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#twisted metal reality
toomanyf4ndoms7 · 2 years
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Moments on Calypso’s island.
*Axel and Amanda looking at a locked gate into a park*
Axel: Hm. This is a problem. Amanda: You know what they say. Axel: Please don’t- Amanda: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate* Axel: Damn it-
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Amber: Plants are basically the ideal friends. They are quiet, friendly, and easy to please. All they need is a little water and fresh earth, and they are perfectly happy to lie there all day in the sun. And they don’t make increasingly awful life choices, or hide their relationships. They have never, as far as I know, fucked a bee.
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Jamie: *cocks gun* Go to Bed. This is no longer a request, this is now a Threat.
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Chuckie: Do we have any orange juice left? Ken: *pours the remaining juice into their cup* Ken: Sorry, we’re all out.
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Amanda: If I run and leap at Jamie, she will most certainly catch me in her arms.
Amanda, running towards Jamie: Coming in!
Jamie: No! I’m holding coffee!
Jamie: *Drops coffee and catches Amanda*
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Chuckie: Dinosaurs aren't extinct. I mean, Mortimer is walking in this room. Ken: *wheeze*
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downfalldestiny · 10 months
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Right. Well i don't 😂 !.
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anantaru · 3 months
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imagine wriothesley w handcuffs .... wrio nd handcuffs ..... like WRIO AND HANDCUFFS
cw. bondage (handcuffed to the bed), size difference, fem! reader
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it started with a slight ache around your wrists, a couple twists of cold metal inching through your hot flesh and the devilish grin of a certain duke messing with your brain, but when wriothesley pins your hands over your head to add his handcuffs on you, you're salivating at what could happen next.
even the corners of your mouth couldn't hide your excitement as they pull upwards.
immediately you're hit with the syrupy sweet realization that you cannot touch him anymore and will lose the salacious opportunity to run your fingernails over his muscular back, make him groan into your mouth when you scratch him roughly or gently massage his scalp after tugging on his hair.
how can you keep your hands off of him for longer than two minutes?
let alone the entire duration of him fucking you both sweetly and rough, same damn thing to wriothesley, pleasuring your pussy like he hated your guts but utterly worshipped you at the same time.
you cannot see yourself pulling through, not when you're itching to push his head against yours— you're gasping through and through when he digs his cock into you, thirsty to feel his back flex under your palms, thirsty for the control he always let you have, at least a little.
your scorching heat wraps around him tightly as a deep, parched groan sizzles up his throat with lecherous bliss, keeping himself contained as your warm breath fans against his parted mouth.
"feels feels so good," you pant out, arching your back as his hips smack and smack against your warmth, your dear sanity snapping into two big pieces, "but wanna touch you, so baaaad," you pout, barely, eyes half open and head lolled to the side as your boyfriend darts his eyes from the handcuffs to your face.
wriothesley snickers, "try it then," he raises a brow, your tits jerking from each thrust he graced you with, "come on baby, i'm waiting, hm?" he adds when you notice the droplets of sweat slowly racing from his chest to his stomach, bundling up into the sharp rills of his sixpack and making them glow.
he sneaks a kiss on your lips as you messily whine into his mouth, whining his name as more of your hitched pants get caught in your throat the quicker he added on to his tempo and blew all sense of reality off your quivering body.
you roll your eyes into the back of your skull as the cold metal around your wrists made you flinch each and every time you focused on it, the pressure on your cunt simply multiplying as he presses his entire weight against your aching one, splitting your pussy so roughly due to his sheer size always taking your breath away, always making you long for more.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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astraltrickster · 10 months
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This submarine situation is so wild. I'm always morbidly fascinated by industrial disasters and shit, because as much as they're tragic, they're also...usually some incredible monuments to the hubris of the wealthy, and amazing cautionary tales, and this one...this one is one of the best at that purpose I've seen in my LIFE.
Three business moguls including the CEO of the company involved, one of their adult sons, and one researcher who is on the record saying that he'd be at peace dying on a dive, climbed aboard a cobbled-together submarine to go visit the wreckage of the Titanic - a ship all but synonymous with the hubris of man, the ship declared unsinkable, whose maiden voyage was packed with the highest of white high society (and that glamorous side that adorned the papers to drum up excitement was specifically white high society; this came decades before nondiscrimination laws, the first class tickets at the center of all this pomp and circumstance were restricted by racist policies typical of the time (*this has been edited for accuracy and clarity)). Of course, despite all claims to the contrary, this big metal behemoth was, in fact, no match for the might of the icy sea. The contrast of the celebration and the hype of the launch with the severity of the disaster in the end, the broken promises, it all feels almost too poetic to be real.
Someone looked at that wreckage and thought, "there's a market here." Seeing nothing but dollar signs resting on the graves of a thousand, he built a submarine. It looked lovely and polished and refined on the outside. On the inside, it had no seats, was visibly thrown together out of parts from camping stores and big box hardware stores, and was controlled with a video game controller and one button - a duty which was to fall to one of the passengers after a crash course, but today, fell to the CEO himself.
This man fired a whistle-blower during the construction. He complained about safety regulations. He built a submarine that was bolted closed from the outside. He came up with no emergency plans, despite the need being apparent. He charged a quarter of a million dollars to ride it.
He christened this glorified sardine can Titan.
And so, down these 5 went.
And, just like with the wreckage they were going to see, something went wrong.
And so they vanished.
It feels like a plot line that resulted from the writer's strike. It's so on the nose it feels like a story written by scab labor. And yet, and yet, much of this is common of industrial disasters. The Challenger disaster. Alaska Airlines flight 261. The ultra-wealthy choose spectacle and/or profit over safety, time and time again. It's the same story almost every time...though, this one certainly has its own unique twists. The purpose. The name. The man who organized this was not only staring down constant reminders that no man, no matter how wealthy, is any match for the sea - reminders of the awe-inspiring power of nature - and instead of seeing it as something to respect, he saw it as something to conquer, as a trivial matter.
And he, and those who trusted in him, are now paying the price, most likely with their lives.
Reality truly is stranger than fiction.
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praeluxius · 8 days
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Blasé
part 4 of folie à deux. masterlist
male reader x kim minju (ex-iz*one) ft yujin, gaeul and rei of Ive
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
words: 9.15k - a lot of set-up in here for future parts, sorry
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Blasé - indifferent
It’s a far cry from elegance—the way you’re both scooping up pieces of clothing from the ground.
"Trousers?" You’re scanning wall to wall, behind stools and tables until your eyes rest on the woman across the room. "Where did they go?"
Minju's got her hands at her waist, fitting her own trousers. “Over there.” She simply tilts her head in a direction of vague guidance.
Aside from the distant voice from the flickering television in the corner, showing scenes of the news, and the soft sounds of jazz music, there's an uneasy amount of silence for a bar in the mid-afternoon. Another knock at the door—Wonyoung must be getting impatient. No surprise.
You're pulling on your trousers as Minju slides her arms into her blazer, settling it onto her shoulders. As she brushes down her clothes, fixes her hair and steps over to her shoes, she has shifted back into the unassuming young woman you first set your eyes on. Not a trace of the indecency remains. Not even a slight indication that, despite the attempt she made to clean up with a few napkins, there's likely still your cum running from her cunt.
She has spent the past couple of minutes explaining how this will go—how you're going to sit back at the bar and Minju is going to re-open as if nothing happened. She didn't tell you exactly how she plans to deal with the Wonyoung problem, but, ‘just let me handle it’ is somehow enough for you.
You sit where it all started, joining your drink at the bar. The last remnants greet you in a sorry state of neglect. You do what you can to straighten up, a hand through your hair, a smoothing down of the wrinkles in your shirt, and a tug on the sleeves to straighten the cuffs. It is when you start to think you've got yourself somewhat under control that you realise just how bad you must look. There’s the undeniable sign that you can’t ignore—that rising tide of musk and sweat from your body and the discomfort it brings.
Another loud rattle of the door against the frame, vibrating across the hinges and into the metal fixings. A call of your name, but it's not quite how you think it should sound.
Minju flicks a series of locks on the door; three separate bolts—heavy-duty clunking metal. Finally, she drops the latch and unlocks the main lock. She has her hand on the handle of the door and she hesitates, looking over her shoulder to check on you once again. One last look.
Just smile.
She opens the door, standing in the opening, between you and the woman outside.
"Wonyo—" Minju begins. "Sorry, who are you?"
You twist in your seat and watch the scene unfold. You expect anger, an outpouring of venom from a woman so full of ego, arrogance, vanity, and maybe even jealousy.
Reality is far from the expectation.
The woman asks Minju if you're here, and while you're still racking your mind to work out who she is, Minju lets her in and, in a way, you're grateful for seeing her walk into the room and folding her umbrella.
"Gaeul?"
"Finally, I was a minute away from leaving. What were you—" She looks around the room, at the out-of-place stools, and then at you. She scrunches her nose and sniffs, confirming her suspicions through the scent of sex. "Oh."
She turns her eyes to Minju. Gaeul lingers, eyes fixed on the bartender's face.
"We... we were talking." Minju chuckles in amusement.
"With the door locked?" Gaeul is easy to read, even across the room, and you can see the genuine concern on her face. You hear it in her voice too. Suddenly, even being here feels wrong. Discomforting is the silence. Unnerving is the smile that stretches on Minju's face—a much prouder look than you're giving.
"Relax darling, we were just talking, and then…" Minju dismisses and Gaeul rolls her eyes.
"No, no. Please. Don't say another word," Gaeul waves her hands in front of her, a gesture of surrender. "I don't want to know the details."
"You sure you don't want to hear about how he just—?"
"No. Just no." Gaeul turns from the grinning woman and heads to you.
She struts in that same determined way she always does. Steady are her paces. Bag over her shoulder, short hair half-tied up and black jeans hugging her legs. As usual, she dons the casual grace that suits her so well.
“Bro, what the hell happened?”
“You seriously don’t know?” you answer the question with a question.
“You got called away. Wonyoung said she had somewhere to be and the rest of us were left waiting, but nothing ever happened. Then classes end and Wonyoung finally just tells me I could find you here.”
“I’m in a shit-storm, Gaeul.” You say, resigned to your seat.
Figuratively, of course. Though Gaeul looks like she’s been in one herself as she throws her rain-drenched raincoat over a stool. The one outside probably isn’t bad enough to require a name, but you know the one that you’re facing all too well. Storm Wonyoung.
You recount the abridged version for her. Of course, the details of you and Wonyoung and your benefits need little introduction. As for the rest, it’s difficult to explain the parts you still don’t understand, like how this all comes down and you and you alone. It takes two to fuck.
"You can't just hide in here from it all."
You laugh a little and say, "not hiding." An obvious lie, and Gaeul gives you a forced smile that says she's not convinced.
"You had us worried."
“Even Wonyoung?” you ask; it’s a test more than a question. You know the answer. You know that she doesn’t give a shit, but you want to see if Gaeul tries to sell the lie.
"Ha! That would be a first." Minju mocks with a scoff. She walks back to where you first found her, behind the bar, and she's still pulling and tugging at her shirt to get the fit back how she likes it.
"I’m sure she does," Gaeul says, with little confidence in her words. She sits herself down next to you and drops her bag off her shoulder and onto the bar.
"You’re still trying to convince yourself," Minju mutters with a shake of her head. "She really has you all around her little finger."
Gaeul is trying her best to ignore the interruptions. "Wony and Yujin—they can fix this."
"Yujin, huh? Now that's a new name." Minju interjects yet again, looking at you with eyes sharp enough to cut. She has her back to the shelf of alcohol, her arms folded under her chest. The more you think about it—the more the pieces seem to fall into place—the clearer it becomes that Yujin is the best friend who replaced Minju.
You scratch your ear. What a mess.
"Gaeul, there's no way the school let me back in."
"You don't know that."
Minju steps forward, a little closer. Her tongue dances across her lips as she readies herself to speak. "Oh, you think Wonyoung is going to get daddy's money and pay your way out of this mess? What's she going to tell her father? Hey daddy, please can you bribe the school to help this guy who's been fucking your princess silly? Seriously? She’s probably the one who got you kicked out in the first place."
That same laughter. That same mocking, belittling attitude that Minju had toward the idea of Wonyoung earlier. As if Minju sees nothing but weakness. Sure, Wonyoung has her fair share of faults, and sometimes she comes off too entitled, but right now, in this situation, her heart is actually in the right place. Or that's at least what Gaeul is saying.
“She would never do that! Wonyoung takes care of her friends and I’m sure she…” Gaeul gives up on her argument as Minju continues to laugh in the face of it.
Minju holds one elbow in the palm of the other hand and places her index finger on her cheek. She flicks it over to Gaeul and points. “Where are my manners? Drink?”
"Coffee, I guess."
"Come on, we're in a bar, let me pour you a—"
"No." Gaeul snaps. "All that stuff does is tear lives apart." An unexpected sternness in her tone—not one you’re accustomed to. There's a hardness that washes over her features—even her hair seems to have stood up a bit on end.
"Gaeul, it's just a drink—"
"That's how it starts and before you know it—" The door opens and a couple of men walk in, silencing her. They look to choose their seats and Gaeul seems to shrink into her stool.
"Alright. Coffee it is," Minju says before shifting her focus to you. "Anyway, Yujin—you fucking her too?"
"No." It's not a lie. Close call? Sure. Want to? Of course. Fucking her? No.
With Minju it just seems like if you give her any opportunity to fan the flames and she’s there. She’s the type to see you caught in a storm and perform a rain dance.
She laughs. She knows. It’s written on your face. "Of course not. Maybe she will let you one day." Minju laughs again and turns to pour out a coffee from the machine on the back of the bar.
Gaeul leans in close, making sure Minju can't hear you over the sounds of the coffee machine whirring to life. She whispers, "bro, what’s wrong with this girl? And how does she know Wonyoung?"
"High school or something. They go back. Way back."
Minju approaches you, drink in hand, and without a word, places the coffee in front of Gaeul. Her expression speaks a hundred mocking words, and she shows little remorse for how she only seems to have stirred the pot further. Her earlier words ring in your ears—how you should be more selfish and that there's more to life than Wonyoung and Yujin.
But here's the hitch.
The problem.
You can't shake the feeling that you really like those girls. No matter how complex their games get or how hard they play with your emotions. There's some innate charm about the two of them; a kind of charisma that not only attracts but holds. No matter how impossible their demands are, you keep on wanting more. 
You're attracted to their sheer arrogance. Drawn by the magnetism of their utter assurance. Entranced at the depth and certainty of their convictions. And if Minju could read your thoughts right now, she would tell you just how stupid you sound.
As Minju walks away and towards her new patrons, sitting at the other end of the bar, you can only admire her.
Not just physically, but who she is. She doesn't care what other people think. She lives for herself.
"Bro, you gonna keep staring her down like that or you gonna talk to me?"
"Gaeul, I have to ask: why are you here?"
"To save you from doing something stupid. Though I might be too late." Gaeul throws a side-eye down the bar to Minju while she takes a drink.
"Don't take it out on her." You shrug. "She—"
"Hey, I get it, she's hot," Gaeul rests her cup back on the bar and brushes a hair away from her cheek and back behind her ear. "I could tell when I walked in. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together, but what I don’t understand is you. Do you just enjoy being used by anyone with a nice body?" Gaeul put her hand up between you, palm showing, stopping you from replying. “Actually, don't answer that. What I'm saying is, don't you want more?”
Gaeul takes another drink from her coffee, holding you in suspense. The truth is that you don't really have an answer and you're not in any state of mind right now to make one.
"Look, all I'm saying is that we girls talk. About love and relationships and sex and well... Just stop being so naïve, will you? If you get caught up playing the game, you're the one that's going to end up played." She picks the cup up again, cradling the warm mug between her fingers, wrapping her slender digits around it, squeezing gently. A long inhale follows as the aroma rises, the scent strong and enticing.
"I didn't ask for any of this." It's a defence so weak that you don't even support yourself. It's a hard denial of the fact that you have been used. Wonyoung has had you under her thumb from the start. And maybe you have gotten a little too comfortable under there.
"Listen, stop thinking with your cock for one day, bro. Tomorrow morning, go pick Yujin up from her house and take her out to get a dress for the party." She's talking fast, laying out a plan you weren't prepared for.
"She asked you earlier, remember, and don't worry, I already picked out a few that I know she will like. I'll text you the photos and what stores they're in. And for the love of god, just enjoy her company without trying to cum on her."
You shouldn’t feel insulted by that, but you do. These girls really share everything.
Gaeul continues her instructions, "and then you turn up at the party on time, take the opportunity to forget everything that's happened and have a fun evening with Yujin, okay?"
It sounds so logical that it's impossible not to follow—even if it's rarely ever that simple. You agree. A silent nod, but enough to assure her that her words have reached you.
"Oh, and one more thing."
"Yes?"
Gaeul places the coffee mug back down on the table, pushes it away, and turns to face you. "Please make sure you dress nice, too. None of this"—she motions to your clothes—"can make an appearance. Seriously.” She smiles to herself as she stands up from the stool.
"Did I hear something about a party?" Minju returns with a renewed smile.
Gaeul rolls her eyes and gives you a slight shake of her head. Her way of letting you know that she has already seen enough of the new addition to your life.
"I think I've spent enough time here already. You should probably get home, too.”
You glance toward your drink, and Gaeul rolls her eyes. She laid out the recipe to success so simply and left you in charge of your future.
She offers Minju no quarter, merely walking toward the door she came through without a word. And she gets none in return, Minju quickly forgetting she was ever here to spoil your fun.
Minju repeats her earlier question. "So, party? Tomorrow? Are you talking about Sakura's?" The name is somewhat familiar. The truth is that you don't know for certain whose party it is, or why it was happening, just a time and a place, but as Minju confirms the details with you, they match up. Not that you have ever met this girl in question, it's just another friend of Wonyoung's.
"I didn't plan to go, but if you're my chaperone, then I could be convinced." Minju's got a glint in her eye and a flirtatious lilt in her tone—the kind a girl pulls out when they're trying to tempt you into doing exactly what you know you shouldn't. 
Gaeul told you just minutes ago to stop thinking with your cock and it’s easier said than done as Minju stares down at you with those eyes that look oh-so-pretty and the desire floods into you once again.
Still, there's some semblance of resistance in you. "It's not a good idea, for more reasons than I can even explain right now."
She stares at you in silence, smiling as she tries to understand, but her hands reach across and her slender fingers stretch over the top of yours. Fingers brushing over your knuckles and her thumb tucking under your palm.
"Don't ruin the fun," she replies. That spark. Flash. That temptation for more is so hard to resist. Gaeul’s words melt away.
"It's just that—"
"Think about the message it will send: I'll wear my sexiest dress and turn up arm-in-arm with you and Wonyoung will never know how close you were to being broken when you turned up here." It’s probably the worst message you could send, but it does sound exciting.
A momentary smile—lost to a sigh at the thought. "That's only going to stir up more trouble, Minju."
"All's fair in love and war. You ever heard of that? Your move.." She smiles at you—the sly, playful smile of someone who's in complete control, and is too willing to show it. Her hand tightens on yours and her eyes are unrelenting, and despite every sensible part of you warning yourself of her dangers, there's a spark that keeps growing inside that draws you back in.
"Are you really getting all proverbial with me right now?" You try to avoid giving her the answer she wants, but the girl is too smart to let you do that.
"Are you really avoiding giving me an answer? Well, it's too late now. We're going. You can come by and pick me up at seven?"
"Seven," you repeat. A resigned affirmation. "Here?"
"Not here, stupid. My apartment. I put my address in your phone notes."
"My phone?" You pat at your pockets, not feeling it anywhere.
"Here." She pulls it from her back pocket and throws you a gentle wink. "Don't forget about me now."
***
Luckily, it seems that news of your expulsion is still under wraps for now. Not only has no one from the class sent you a text about it, being their usual prying selves, but if the news had gone beyond the school and someone like Yujin's father had found out, he wouldn't have let you anywhere near his daughter.
Actually, everything today just feels so... normal. Even Yujin has avoided mentioning it while you have been out with her. 
You're still out now, sitting on one of those chairs outside the changing rooms. You know the ones—placed there for a very specific set of people. The ones for the disgruntled boyfriends who hate this sort of thing and all it entails. With their various bags by their side full of clothes, jewellery and shoes.
That's a lot of guys anyway, but you—
"What do you think?" Yujin calls out as she pulls back the curtain and steps out into the hallway. "It looks nice, right?"
—aren't in their ranks today. You appreciate this ritual for what it is. There is no exasperation. No annoyance. Nothing but the simple delight of watching a beautiful woman twirl in front of you before her reflection.
"Looks great, Yujin," you answer with an honest smile.
She gives you another twirl, arms out, her slim and toned legs shown by the dress's thigh-length cut, her arms bare and the rest of her dress is tight fitting across her flat stomach and rounding her breasts. She's playing gently with the strap on her shoulder, adjusting it against her skin. With another turn and twist, the backless nature of the dress catches your eye.
"You say that about every dress I try."
"Well, they're all gorgeous. It's hard for me to pick one."
Her laughter is sweet and musical, and it hits your heart with a dull thumping, like a heavy drum being struck inside your chest. "You're not as much help as I hoped. What do you really think?"
Yujin drops a hand to her hip, planting it there and posing with a soft pout on her lips. She has her hair held back into a ponytail. "Tell me, am I sexy?" She punctuates the question with a shake of her hips. "Pretty? Cute? Tell me, do I look good enough to eat?"
"Eat?"
Yujin does that thing she always does; where when she finishes laughing after teasing you and she bites her tongue and it pokes through her lips. She drags the curtain back across, obscuring your view again, and you're left with nothing but the plain white corridor. That and the sounds of her carefully undressing on the other side of the draped fabric. You can imagine how she undid the zipper. How it opens from her lower back. The sound the fabric will make as it slides over her naked curves—
Fuck. Stop. Don't fantasise now. Not here.
You rock your head back, resting it against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. The white tiles aren't exactly exciting, but they are preferable to imagining anything Yujin is or isn't currently wearing.
"Can you believe it?" Yujin calls from behind the curtain, wrangling your attention back. "Nine whole days. No warning at all."
"Did I miss something?"
"My dad. He's gone for nine whole days this time. Only one day after momma has gone to visit my aunt. The house is weird without them. It's just me and the staff. It's cold and quiet. You should come over more." It's all so nonchalant for her to ask that. No mention of what happened the last time you were in her house. How you—
Yujin pulls the curtain and steps out. A new dress. It's hard to look away and even harder to look her in the eyes. This is an elegant red one, an alluring warm hue. The dress is cut high up on the thigh, close enough to the line of the panties you're actively not thinking about. Tight on her waist and a neckline that follows the collarbone and frames her neck and shoulders in soft fabric.
"Well?"
"Yes." It's the only word that comes to mind. She's the most beautiful thing. Your favourite image. She is like a perfect portrait, hung there just for your view.
"Yes what?" she asks.
"Yes to this dress. This is the one."
She pulls a look. One you're not exactly sure how to read. "And about coming over?"
"Um..." The old you would have leapt at the chance. Fuck, the current you wants to too, but you still haven't addressed the elephant in the room.
"What's going on with you?" Yujin quizzes. She knows you haven't been your usual self the whole day. Everything weighing on your mind, including a future where you quite literally have no idea what tomorrow will bring. You can feel it—have felt it—holding you back.
"Look..." You run a hand through your hair. "The school thing has been playing on my mind." It's half the truth.
"Is that it? It's only school."
"Yujin. It's my life. I don't have money or assurances or—"
"You have me." Yujin steps forward, looking down at you in your seat, smiling. "Right?"
You look at her all confused. How do you reply to that? What does she even mean by that?
"I've got your back, okay? Always," Yujin assures, her smile so calming and comforting and yet, her words leave something to be desired. "Trust me."
Yujin raises a delicate hand toward your cheek, hovering millimetres from touching, just close enough for you to feel her heat and her draw. For an agonising second, all is silent as the air hangs tense. Then the touch. The smoothness of fingers that have never worked a day in their life against your skin.
"I already called the school. Told them Daddy would cut his funding if they didn't brush it under the rug." It's all so easy for her. How casually she flaunts her money and influence. But as the fingers trace the edge of your jaw, graze across your cheeks and come to rest their pad beneath your chin, tilting your head upward and casting your vision toward the young woman's bright smile, you can’t help but pin your hopes on her.
There's this moment you're stuck in, staring at her smile and wishing you could kiss it. Her fingertips threaten to draw you in but just as you let them, she slips them off you and pulls herself back. "But—" Yujin says with a wink, "you owe me."
She takes three steps back, slipping back into the cubby of a changing room across from you.
Yujin turns to the mirror, admiring the dress, her fingers running flat against her stomach. Her arms trail up along her side and around, stroking and smoothing down the fabric. Her shoulders shift, tugging on the fabric and perfecting the fit as she always does. "You're right. This is the one. You have good taste."
Yujin reaches her hands behind her back, fingers reaching her upper back and to the fabric of the dress. You watch, breathing steadily, as her fingertips begin to work the zipper, sliding it downward ever-so-slowly, exposing an inch of skin, then another, and another…
She tilts her head and gives her hair a subtle shake, exposing the nape of her slender neck. With a gentle roll of her shoulders, the dress falls loose, slipping from the sharpness of her shoulders, and gathering up on her elbow and waist. Her back is bare to you, and when you can drag your eyes to the mirror, a lot more too. That's when you catch her gaze, looking back in the mirror, watching the effect she has as the dress falls further, fully from her arms and waist to the floor.
Now only her underwear hugs her hips, the soft lace of her panties a little sheer, framing her perfectly round ass. Her eyes are fixated on your own, her face almost twisted, so sadistically joyous, revelling in the sight of your torture. Yujin says nothing—how could she say a word to ruin this tension? A laugh slips through her lips, and then she reaches behind her for the curtain. Drawing an end to the act as she conceals herself behind the fabric.
“Take this," she calls through the curtain and you're still trying to settle back into reality when out pops her hand, the dress draped over it. "You still have my card, right? You can go pay."
You take the dress, not knowing how to reply.
Yujin continues, "meet you by the door."
***
"Did you two just—?"
"She's in the changing room, Rei. At the store."
"Oh." Rei sounds out of breath and fatigued, her words come heavy, laced with pants. "Fuck it. You can help me. You're the only person who answered."
"What's wrong Rei?" You're talking with your eyes fixed across the room, waiting to see Yujin emerge.
"What's the best excuse to get out of a guy's apartment?" Rei is hushed a little now.
"Wait. Are you in there right now?"
"In the bathroom, he can't hear me right now, but yeah. I need an out. This guy was texting me about how well he was going to fuck me and he blew in like a minute." There is some disgust in her tone, a clear sense of disillusion. "Dude ended up just watching me get off. Prick."
Trying to keep it on topic, and trying to not imagine Rei masturbating, you say, "family emergency is always a good one. Hang up. Walk back into the bedroom. Then I'll call you pretending to be your uncle."
"A sexy uncle or a creepy uncle?"
"Your choice?"
"I'd say you're more of a sexy uncle."
You try not to indulge her. "Rei. Go."
"Right."
She hangs up. And you give it a minute, counting back from sixty. You call her, and when she answers, you turn up your volume, which grabs the attention of a few people in the store. "Rei! Rei! Where are you?"
"Uncle? What's wrong? Calm down!" She even sounds slightly convincing.
"Your aunt. There's been an accident. You need to hurry." You're quieter now, and the eyes around you go back to whatever they were doing.
"Yes uncle. Right away! I'm on my way now." Then you barely hear her ad she's speaking to the mystery man in the room with her. "Sorry, I have to go. It's my uncle. My auntie... she..."
Wow. She even sounds so genuinely upset. There's probably even a fake tear in there somewhere. There's some more muffled conversation you can't make out, likely Rei's dropped the phone while she dresses. You can imagine it, even if you couldn't make out what's going on in the background. She's feigning a panic, apologising to the guy, quickly pulling on her panties while he's laid there all confused. She's grabbing a shirt, jeans, a coat, and then rushing out the door. All the while maintaining her worry.
"Uncle?" she calls down the phone after some sounds of commotion. "I'm on my way now." There's the sound of a door slamming in the background.
"Rei? You good?" you ask.
"I'm out now. Thank you. Ugh. At least one guy didn't let me down today. Why is it so hard to just get a good fuck?" She lets out the words with a sigh, her tone is annoyed, and the sound in the background has changed. Her steps. The outdoors. The sound of cars.
"Take it as a compliment. Maybe you're just too hot for him."
She laughs a little, "yeah or my pussy is too good. Some people aren't prepared for what my pussy can do." She laughs again, louder this time and it brings a chuckle from yourself.
"Got to go now, Rei. Text me when you're home," you tell her.
"Wait! Before you go, what are you doing in say... an hour?"
"You what now?"
"Come on." She whines in that exaggerated way she can't quite contain. "If you're not busy then..." She trails off and silence follows.
You're not even sure what to think. Not sure what to say. "Rei..."
"Just kidding. Thanks again." She speaks in a hurry and hangs up the phone quickly too, before you can even say goodbye. You bring the phone in front of you, to make sure the call ended. It did.
You look up from the screen just as Yujin appears across the store.
***
Yujin leads you through the mall as you trail just behind her, one arm draped in bags full of clothes worth more than triple the car you drove her here in.
"Trust me. If it's not in a cone, then it's just not right," Yujin insists. You're not sure how you've come down to arguing about the semantics of eating ice cream, but here you are.
"But what if it's in a glass and it has a wafer with it? It's the same taste. The same substance," you contend, trying to reason.
"That's a sundae and sundaes are a whole different thing altogether. Everyone knows that."
"Okay, so what's wrong with that, but in a plastic cup?"
"You mean in a disposable container with not much thought, nor flavour nor creativity?" She stops in place, turning to you and saying, "Ice cream is an experience." She raises her hand to her head, grabbing at it and feigning frustration.
"So, glass okay, cone okay, plastic cup, not okay? Even if it's the same ice cream in all three?"
"Exactly." That's her reasoning, for leading you all the way to the other side of the mall, to the place that puts ice cream in a cone, and not in a little tub.
You hold your tongue for a minute and follow. Waiting for that perfect moment to throw your next question out there. You're slipping through the crowds of people, cutting around groups as they browse and peruse the items on display at the front of each store, and occasionally avoiding the people mindlessly walking on their phones.
Yujin is looking ahead and she doesn't see it coming. Two kids running right across her path. You quickly reach for her arm and pull her out of the way just in time to avoid them running headlong into her. 
"What are you—"
"Careful." You tilt your head towards the kids as they run across in front of you.
"Oh." Yujin flicks her gaze after them and turns it up at you, smiling. "My hero," she says whimsically, almost to the point you feel she's mocking you. Yujin lifts her arm under your grasp until she meets your hand with her own, and then interlocks her fingers into yours. She continues leading as if nothing at all has changed. You're following her again, past countless stores, your hand bound with her all along.
"So, Yujin, soft-serve or—"
"Don't even go there." Yujin laughs, turning to flash you a smile. She pulls on your hand to bring you to a stop. "Here we are."
"But, we didn't even discuss flavours..."
***
It's different, and not entirely comfortable. Usually, Yujin is buried in her phone, scrolling down her feed, flicking through stories or reading all those weird Instagram message requests she gets from her followers. Not this time. No, Yujin is sitting beside you in the passenger seat, her phone nowhere to be seen—enjoying life. Enjoying your company.
She still has her ice cream, in a cone just as she wanted, and she's sharing it with you as you drive. She reaches over between her licks to give you a taste.
It's not just that, it's how talkative she is—now more than ever. Never has she been so willing to discuss her family. She's just finished telling you all about her auntie and how her mother helped her set up a shop overseas, and how she’s visiting her right now. All this talk has led her to her father, who she talks about with much less fervour.
You will never forget the first time you met him; the imposing aura the man commands and his rigorous standards for everything. Her stories though? They seem more like myths.
"He ran a whole rival company into the ground. Pricing them out of deals, cutting shady deals himself. It was ruthless. But effective," Yujin says, pausing before she gives her ice cream another lick. "Hundreds of people lost their jobs; it was all on the news. I was young, so I didn't really understand. Mother tells me it changed him. He was away for a long time. I went years without really spending time with him."
"Yujin... I don't understand. He always seems so..."
"Nice?" Yujin completes the statement for you with a sarcastic laugh. "When he's home, he puts on the act. But when he's away, sometimes mother just wishes he would stay there." She's looking straight ahead now, focusing on the view out the front window as you dip off the highway.
"Can I ask about the scar, then?" It's a topic you're unsure about broaching, but it feels like the kind of chance that won't come again if you leave it.
"Scar? The one on his neck? He wouldn't even tell me or mother how he got it. Probably some ex-employee, or... an ex-lover." That's the one thing you knew about him. Yujin told you before about how he barely even hides his trysts from his wife and the damage it has caused.
"Sometimes I wish the entire company would just burn, and we would all be left with nothing. Have a normal life."
“A normal life isn’t any better, Yujin. Just a different shade of the same colour.”
There's a vulnerability to her now that always seemed so elusive. It's the softness of her tone and the almost timid smile that crosses her face when you look over. Then comes the quiet. The silence as she waits—waits for the world to answer all her unanswered questions. Waits for you to give the reassurance she needs, to know she's not alone.
With one hand still on the wheel, you reach the other over to her lap and find her hand.
"Don't." Yujin pushes back at first. But the harder she pushes, the tighter you squeeze and you let her know that you're going to be here. Her resistance crumbles and the fight subsides. And Yujin entwines her hand back with yours, locking her grip. "Thank you."
You turn the next corner and the molten orange afternoon sun burns ahead of you, threatening to fall below the horizon. Its warm rays burst with vivid colour.
"You never talk about your parents," Yujin asks with a soft curiosity.
"I don't know them. It's just my brother and me. Always has been. Always will be. He raised me," you explain so simply.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I sound so ungrateful now." This might be the first time you have ever heard Yujin utter that word—sorry. She holds a little tighter onto your hand, a returned reassuring squeeze to tell you she cares.
You keep hold of her as you turn into the gated grounds of her house, pull up into her long-cobbled driveway and pull the car over in front of the door.
"You should come in, stay with me until the party," she offers, refusing to let go of your hand.
"I have to go home, I have to wash and change and..." You trail off, omitting the fact you also have to go to Minju's place before the party. Her hold on your hand loosens as you speak but you hold a little tighter and tell her, "but, I'll see you soon."
The warmth of her touch departs your grip. Her face seems more understanding. "You will." She smiles and behind her, through the window, you spot her staff approaching to help with her bags. "Don't be late, okay?"
You give her a firm single nod as she steps out of the car.
***
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You're about to buzz for the third time, but you pause to check your phone. You read the address over and over. You're at the right place. Maybe Minju made a typo? Maybe she did this on purpose just to waste your time? You press the buzzer a third and final time. It rings and rings until eventually the screen lights up.
Minju's face is pressed to the camera. "You're early."
"Actually, I'm right on time."
She turns away from the camera to check the clock on the wall. She leans a little to get a better look, bringing more of her into view. More accurately, bringing her bare shoulders into the camera shot. "Fuck," she says as she turns back to the camera. "Okay, look, just come up."
"But I have a taxi here waiting."
"So wave them away." The camera cuts off and the door buzzes open.
You roll your eyes and open the door, turning to the taxi driver and lazily waving a hand before you enter.
When you make it to Minju's apartment, a surprise awaits. You find the door unlocked—that's not the surprise. What's behind it is what is so unexpected. It looks like the aftermath of a localised apartment tornado.
There are shoes on the floor between strewn-out items of clothing as soon as you enter. There's a pair of her jeans right by the door and next to them a bra. You drag your eyes across the room and things don't get any better. You don't even want to know how that pair of tights ended up hung over her TV. Or why there's one of her bomber jackets hung from the fridge? And you especially don't want to question how the back of her sofa became her de facto underwear drawer—there are six or seven pairs laid out along it.
"Minju, it's me," you call out.
Minju pokes her head from her bathroom door. "Take a seat."
"And where in the world am I supposed to find one?" Even her dining chairs hold two folded stacks of work clothes.
Minju shrugs and scrunches her nose before ducking back into the bathroom. A moment of silence is followed by the blaring of a hair dryer. You navigate the floor like a minefield until you close in on the door she just slipped into. You check your watch, just twenty-five minutes until when you told the girls you would be there. Until when Yujin is expecting you—alone.
"Minju!" You call over the sounds of her drying her hair..
She speaks from within, her voice almost completely muffled. "What's wrong?" The sounds cut to quiet.
"Ten minutes until we need to—" Your voice is caught in your throat as Minju emerges from the bathroom. She's wearing nothing but the scent of her soap and the soft glisten of her damp skin. And, in true Minju style, she doesn't cover herself, she doesn't even shy away.
It’s all so… blasé.
"My eyes are up here." Her giggling is playful and sultry, luring you to her, and there is no place else for your gaze to drift. All you have to do is watch. Follow every drop and curve, every exquisite angle. The wet, raven hair hangs heavy down her back.
"You— we— clothes— where are your clothes?"
"Ummm..." Minju raises her hands in a form of shrug as she twists and scans around the room. "They're somewhere here. Probably." She keeps walking, across your path and into the kitchen. You watch her as she struts all the way to the far counter. She stands for a moment or two in a pose, her weight on one leg and the other propped on her tiptoe.
She finally turns back to you, half a bottle of wine in her hand and a half-cocked smile on her lips.
"Minju, I need to—"
"When was the last time you had a drink? Anything since yesterday afternoon?" she asks as she sweeps two glasses that don't even look clean from the countertop.
"No, nothing, but—"
"How about sex? Fucked anyone else since me?" she's asking so casually as she places the two glasses on the small part of her table that isn't covered in books, papers and boxes. She uncorks the wine bottle and begins to pour.
"What? No, but Minju... it's almost—" Your pointless protests are stilted by the young woman thrusting a glass of wine towards you, which you feel compelled to step closer and take. You stand across from her, glass in hand, staring at a face that's staring back.
"Me neither. Cheers," she says, tilting her glass toward you as an invitation. You clink them together and follow her lead, drinking the wine in one go. “That's the drink out of the way. Now how about a fuck?"
Minju places her glass onto the table and then she approaches, sauntering one foot in front of the other until her bare chest presses against yours.
"Time is ticking, I know." Her mouth is beside your ear, whispering into it and brushing the tip of her nose across your cheek. “But we can be quick."
She slides back a step, her hand taking hold of your collar, tugging you toward her as she takes another step. You pass by the table and you take the chance to place your glass alongside hers before she continues to draw you across the room.
You don't resist. Couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted. You step as she guides you. Follow as she leads until her hips rest against her kitchen counter. There you close the space, pressed together, looking into her dark eyes—tainted with want. There's something about Minju that makes everything simple. All the world, the noise, the games. All the expectations and pressures of normal life are foregone and stripped away, leaving only you, her, and basic instinct.
Your fingers cup her jaw, following the smoothness and warmth of her cheeks. It's a subtle action, a movement slow in motion yet so immediate in meaning. As you make your desires known, the sparkle that plays at the corners of her eyes draws your lips into hers.
You near a kiss until she turns away at the last moment, leaning herself forward and presenting her bare back to you. "What do you see?" she asks, looking back at you.
The soft curve of her spine paths her back all the way to the dimple at the base. You smooth the flat of your palm along her sides, touching gently across the silkiness of her warm, wet skin. Your lips come down, pressed to her shoulder and you brush the tip of your nose along her nape. And just like that, you're intoxicated by her. All sense and rationality abandoned. "You."
"Then fuck me." Her voice is sweetly coarse, a gentle whisper. You hear a faint noise escape, a gentle mewing of want.
And fuck you will. Your hands run over her, squeezing gently as you lower. All the while she presses and writhes herself against you, rubbing and stirring at your building lust, toying it further and further. Minju bends over more, backing herself against you until you're made to take a step back. She keeps her hands against the wood as she lowers her head further and slightly parts her legs. 
You're quick to unbuckle your belt, pop the button, unfasten the zipper and slip your boxers low enough to take out your dick. Hard, ready, wanting, and there's an invitation in front of you. Bare and inviting, warm and moist, enticing and so perfect.
Minju turns to flash her eyes over her shoulder, holding the very image of invitation. So, with only that little cue needed, you slide inside her. One short stroke followed by a deep, stretching push, all the way, your hips crashing to meet her. Slow, sensual motions in and out as you grip her waist.
"Faster. Like you mean it." There it is. The thing you love and hate about Minju—the expectation, the challenge, the attitude, the need for more.
A few deep breaths and you grip a little tighter. Brace your legs a little firmer and with a shift of weight forward you drive harder into her and her mewl of approval spurs you onward. You hit a rhythm that suits you both. Her back arches. She sways forward with each motion before bucking her hips back, pushing you as hard as you're pulling, matching your want with hers.
As you both find comfort in your actions, a rhythm that doesn't chase a high but pleases wholly, Minju looks over her shoulder again with a question on her lips. "Who's Yujin?"
A quick answer leaves you. "Not now," you respond, while you pull at her hips and pull a whine from her.
Minju's voice is barely a whisper. She repeats the name, questioning it a second time and asking, "You didn’t tell me yesterday. Who is she?"
"Can't you let it go?"
"You have your cock in me. Least you can do is answer my question." Minju is smiling when she says it, showing her teeth with a look that just dares you to not do as she says.
"Fine," you reply and then slide your hand up her body, reaching to cup one of her tits while you fuck her. "Yujin is a friend," you say, and you know how unsure you sound. "And she's a friend of Gaeul and Wonyoung too."
"So, really, have you fucked her too?" The question is as blunt as she can possibly make it and Minju emphasises it further with a deliberate shake of her ass into you, driving her hips back to make a point.
"Nope."
"But you want to." This time, a statement, not a question.
"Why do you think that?"
"As soon as I mentioned her name I could feel you twitch inside me. Fuck me a little bit harder. You wish I was her." Minju laughs, a hand moving behind her back, snaking around to grip her own ass.
"I didn't. I just— It was you, I—"
"I don't care. Think about her if you want. As long as you fuck me." Minju is demanding, the statement becomes her prerogative. She bites her lip and plays with herself. She knows exactly the way to tease and taunt. "That's why you're even doing this? Did Yujin not show enough affection? Too high and mighty to put out? Or does she just not like you?"
"It's complicated." You slow your movements to a series of leisurely strokes. It gives you a moment to collect your thoughts and choose your words. "We've had... moments... but I don't really understand her. But fuck she drives me insane. She's this mystery and sometimes a contradiction and you know what, Minju? Sometimes she infuriates me with her teasing." You remember just earlier today, her little show in the changing room and how it led to nothing more. You hold Minju a little firmer with a tight grasp on her waist and her breast. The anger pushes your hips against hers with a little more force.
"Ooohh... someone is frustrated. It's fucking hot when girls play coy, isn't it? Seeing her and the power she has over you. Dangling the prize and not giving it to you." Minju arches her back and looks at you, a curl in the corner of her lips as she asks, "would you rather be inside her?"
"I'm inside you," is all the answer that comes. It is a grunting, panting whisper. You thrust a little deeper and a moan fills the air.
"Fuck me harder then, use me. Fuck me like I'm Yujin. Like I'm the fucking tease that's finally giving you what you want."
There's something about the way she's taunting and coaxing you that awakens this raw, carnal lust. How does she read you this well? She's got your thoughts down to the very emotion in such a perfect moment, in a time of emotional fragility, and in a way that's strangely flattering, a kind of praise in and of itself. And Minju is saying everything that excites you most about the way you think about Yujin. All of the want and the unfulfilled frustration. All of it validated.
So you fuck her. Truly fuck her.
And you try and bury into her how much Yujin affects you. You push Minju's hips against the counter, slamming her against it and she sends a couple of pots flying in her wake. "Yes, you want her like this," she says in between pants as your thrusts speed to new heights. Minju bucks her hips into you to meet your motions, but even as she braces herself as best she can, she cannot quite catch up.
"Take her as you take me," she cries, letting out the mewing moans with a chorus of gasps, one for every time you grind your cock deep within her, you feel a squeeze, the gripping of her walls, the milking, beckoning tightness. "Break her, like she's never been fucked."
"Ahhh Minju..." You grind in deeper.
"Yujin. You're fucking Yujin!" Minju calls.
You are driven to your deepest. One final stroke as Minju clamps her thighs together.
She yells her words in an abrupt, lustful explosion. "What does Yujin like? Does she like this?" Minju teases, trying to sound seductive despite the audible lack of air in her chest and the torrents of orgasmic energy flooding through.
"Fuck," you grunt, clapping your hips against Minju's ass. Your mind is a cocktail of reality and imagination. A beautiful girl in front of you. The image of Yujin taking off her dress in your mind. That fucking tease, showing you and playing with you and taunting you. She's smiling—they're both smiling. Minju and Yujin. Looking back at you. Smiling, goading, taunting, playing.
"Harder! Fucking harder!" Minju squeals with excitement as she throws herself against the surface in front of her, sending more things flying out the way onto the floor. You have a hand in the centre of her back, pinning her down while you slam into her throbbing cunt. Again and again, the slaps and the wet smacks resound with every impact. "Let it out," she squeals.
Her words stir an inferno, building a flame inside and its warmth fans out, spreading and warming every part of you. Its fire melting and burning you in its powerful force. And then with one last plunge, you hold yourself, pressing as deep into her as possible, filling her up and sending yourself bursting and exploding through her.
The rushing wave. Flooding torrent. Thunderous release.
Everything let go.
In her, and held fast, still spasming, still releasing, spilling, and pouring everything. Everything spent, empty, drained. You try and catch the breath that evades your racing heart and heaving chest. Sweaty and slick. Warm and tender. The exhaustion settling in.
It's all so fucking cathartic. A long-suppressed and repressed fire finally unleashed and given its time to burn. Unhindered and unchained, and all under the watchful eye of your own personal confidant, coaxing out what's been buried, releasing its lock, freeing its bounds.
"Now tell me... how long have you wanted that?" Minju asks, and the satisfaction in her voice makes it clear that she already knows.
With your pulse pounding and breath racing, you're not ready to face her just yet. It takes another moment, holding her, pressed against her, feeling the closeness in a way that you could almost say is romantic. Minju wriggles under you and releases a laugh.
She shuffles and slides away from you, forcing your still sensitive, softening dick to slip from her. Now she is facing you and it's a sight worth appreciating, but at the same time, so, so dangerous. Her beauty is special, but your mind is a mess.
"So..." Minju pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, trapping it between her teeth for a second as she dips her head then she laughs. "Did you have any other fantasies with her?"
"Minju." It's the most exhausted warning you can muster as you sink to the floor, sitting back against a kitchen cupboard.
"If it's any consolation. She's missing out. You're a great fuck. Just what I needed."
"Right back at you," you say, leaning back your head, exhausted, to rest on the cold wood. You stare up at the white ceiling, in a strange reminisce. It isn’t exciting but it’s preferable to your thoughts.
"Hmmm, that's cute." Minju is still standing beside you, using a piece of kitchen towel to awkwardly clean herself up. She wipes the thick, slick mess away and asks, "And look. What we just did, it's not weird. I get it. We're two friends just helping each other out. No strings."
You nod slowly, taking her sentiment.
"Don't worry. Yujin will know nothing. Our little secret," Minju says, patting your head. You sit for a moment in silence, Minju still by your side, she's getting herself a bottle of water now from the pack next to her.
"Minju?"
"Yeah?"
"Why is your place such a fucking mess?"
***
A/N: future parts will pick up in a smut sense with the other characters, promise.
also, I have no idea what i'm doing anymore with this part, I feel like this part isn't very good, but trust me, big things are coming.
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Prince Malleus Draconia vs Human Pettiness
So we’ve all heard about the trope of angry humans doing petty stuff to avoid their supernatural s/o’s. Like dating a werewolf and wearing silver, or dating a vampire and eating Italian (or entering a house that they haven’t been invited to) or dating a demon sitting in a salt circle or even dating a fairy and wearing iron.
So let’s say you’ve had an argument with your unfairly handsome fae boyfriend and later, being the stubborn-as-a-mule human you are, realise that even though you’ve somewhat calmed down, you’re still very cross with him so you decide to get back in your own way. You may have come into Twisted Wonderland with no magic but you did possess the stories and folklore of your non-magical world. You grew up with the tales of the men and women of yore that whispered horror stories of curses, kidnappings and enchantments, fairy rings and changeling children - and it’s time to put your childhood fascination of the once-fictional-but-now-part-of-your-reality to shine.
Of course, you started with the iron jewellery; any type of bijouterie in your possession that you could possibly wear, you did. Rings, necklaces, bangles, anklets, earrings, chains, studs on your clothing, the prong of your belt, even the clips in your hair - all made out of pure iron (most of them a gift from Leona for reasons you weren’t too sure you wanted to know). You even managed to replace the buttons of your school blazer for shiny new metallic ones.
Next, you fortified your stronghold to ensure that any pesky fairies wouldn’t be able to enter. You hung up an iron horseshoe onto the door of Ramshackle and sprinkled salt all around its perimeter. You found some of your old clothes that were no longer in use and turned them inside out before placing them both inside Ramshackle and outside. Next you hung up bells and deep-toned wind chimes on as many places on Ramshackle’s exterior you could find. Then, after marvelling at your handiwork, you went to your bedroom and relaxed.
*Insert a pouting Malleus sulking ten feet away from you, physically unable to come closer, mentally debating whether or not he should be impressed by your commitment*
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Moonlight & Masks
Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: Newly turned Death Eater Theodore Nott is tasked with hunting down Harry Potter and the Order Operative protecting him. Only to discover the person he hunts happens to be the one he loves.
Length: 1.8k
Notes: Back from the dead (I am so sorry things are hectic and I don’t want to release a chapter I’m not feeling) with this little one from @thatdammchickennugget’s Hogmarch Challenge! Death Eater Theo. Use of the killing curse. Angst as always because we know I live for the drama. For those of you wanting more Veleveteen, in my head this occurs in the same story universe (which I know isn’t the same as an update pls forgive my sins). Not proofread, we have deadlines to meet.
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The sting of lightning hung in the air as she weaved through the trees. The thundering footfall still pressing behind her. Lungs burning with need, she pressed on. Dizzied from the turbulent descent she and Mad Eye had suffered.
Alastor. He was dead.
She hadn’t even been able to take his body from the dirt where it had fallen. And the Death Eaters certainly wouldn’t afford him the dignity of a proper burial.
Tears clawed at her cheeks as she bounded over the tree roots twisting across the forest floor. Thinking only of Mad Eye, the way his voice had simply ceased when the curse had hit him. No cry of pain, no strangled wail. Only silence.
Her grip on her wand tightened as her tears ran hot. The taunting laugh of one of her pursuers echoing through the trees as they crashed after her. The darkness spinning endlessly around her. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Gone were the rules they had been taught to play by. Humanity sacrificed for power. Thoughtless with rage, she cast back her wand into the leering shadows. Letting the words fall from her lips before her heart could catch them.
Avada Kedavra
The green light felt as though it tore right through her as it ricocheted from her wand. Scattering through the trees and hitting its mark with a crack. Ripping at her chest with blistering heat, forcing her ribs apart until the spell dissipated. The laughter ceased. That same absence that had followed earlier resting through the trees. She was dragged to a still.
The force of the spell brought her to her knees. Bark breaking the skin of her palms, blood blooming as she fell forward in agony. She felt it being torn from her throat just now; some vital piece of herself. What she had given to cast the curse. The crack rung through her ears. Trailing her even as its ringing grew soft, faded into the background of the forest’s creaks and stutters. She could feel the heaving of her chest, dizzied by the absence that had been dug into her.
Before she could break upon the forest floor completely, the snap of a twig behind her brought reality rearing back. Whipping to face the darkness, she searched the teasing shadows that surrounded her. Nothing answered but the wind. She pushed herself up on bloody palms, staggering towards the nearest tree. Catching the glint of a metal smile hit by moonlight as she turned. But it was too late.
The Death Eater was on her in a second, wand jammed to her throat. One hand wrenching her head back by the hair. A mutilated snarl coming from the unmoving mask.
“Potter.”
She still had Harry’s face.
The figure towered before her, gloved hand pulling harshly at her hair as she strained against their grip. More tears pricking at her eyes as she faced the smooth and indifferent wall between them. Both of them were wearing masks really. But the thought brought little comfort to the nausea biting at her.
She was going to die someone else.
Wand to her throat, she closed her eyes. Preparing for the flurry of hot green light. Perhaps it was what she deserved, it could be a mercy. This way she would never have to truly face what she had done. There was no doubt in her mind that the person before her would finish the job. And yet she waited, but nothing came.
Opening her eyes once again she found him watching her carefully. Blue eyes clouded with something foreign, his silver mask lodged in the dirt at their feet. Looking at her with nothing but quiet restraint. She felt her throat close at the sight of him, all defences leaving her as she stared up at the boy before her.
“I asked something of you, when I saw you last,” Theo spoke lowly, wand still jammed to her throat as though he didn’t fully trust the person he saw before him. “Do you have an answer for me?” His voice fell flat against the forest air, low and heavy as his empty eyes.
His words sent another wave of dizziness crashing through her. The events of the past ten minutes threatening to bring everything up from her stomach. She wanted to fall into his chest and let his robes soak up her tears. To slice her palm clean across his cheek. Fall to the forest floor and not get up. Beg him to finish the job.
But instead, she did as she was told; she stayed quiet. Like the good little soldier they had taught her to be. Counting the freckles and moles that dotted the skin of his cheeks like they were her favourite constellations.
“Answer the question,” Theo snarled again, shoving her back forcefully. Back hitting the jagged edges of bark with an audible crack as a groan left her. Still she didn’t speak, blinking up at him as her head spun from when it had made contact with the tree.
“I’ll do it Potter,” he hissed lowly. His wand cutting further into her throat as she struggled to breathe under its pressure. He barely seemed to notice, staring down at her with empty eyes. “Don’t think I won’t just because you have something I want.”
She only watched him carefully, trying not to let herself give it away as she watched him. Staving off the clouds of memory that threatened to consume her at the sight of him.
“No?” He chimed, a sharp edge to his warm voice, “Very well.”
He drew a breathe, anger taking him in its burning grip. But just as the curse he had planned to cast was forming a whisper of air on his lips; she felt it. The rippling beneath her skin. Pulling and tugging and melting at the fibres of her. She bit her tongue as the pain of it ripped through her. Reforming beneath the skin as everything cracked and popped in and out of place. Until only she remained, swimming in Harry’s ridiculous hoodie.
Theo still had her pressed against the tree, all colour drained from his face as he watched the skin seem to melt and reform on her bones. His hands began to shake. She watched him with distant eyes, trying to hold onto what little restraint remained.
“What’s wrong?” She asked hoarsely, her throat aching from the potion’s due course. Theo’s wand still hesitantly pressed to the delicate skin of her throat. “Can’t do it anymore?”
It happened like the break of a dam. Her name fell from his lips in a rush of credence. Lips falling apart at the sight of her before him, what he’d almost done without realising. His wand dropped in a stagger, as though she had struck him. The darkness of the forest enclosing around them.
“You left me there,” he breathed suddenly, as though it hadn’t meant to come out. She blinked up at him as confusion swept her. But the lost look he carried only washed away as his eyes hardened.
“What?” she breathed.
“You left me there alone,” he spoke again, ignited with a sudden rage. His words were like kindling to her own. Her brow cracking with anger.
“No, Theo,” her voice shook, “you left me.” Theo looked to the ground, shaking his head gently in denial. He took a hesitant step forwards, as though to reach for her. But she stepped back, her spine hitting the tree. “Do you know how much I had to go through alone before I got out of there? Because you were too busy running off with Draco, or-”
He closed the distance between them with a blistering intensity.
“Do you know what it’s been like since? Without you?” It came out in a boiling whisper. “He wants your head almost as much as he wants Potter’s,” Theo’s eyes softened at the words, swept up in whatever memory they procured. “And I just have to sit there and take it, listening to the vile things they plan to do to you. Knowing there’s not a single fucking thing I can do about any of it, except for-”
He didn’t have to say it, the break of his voice said enough. The way his eyes fled from her own. He had meant to kill her.
“Why don’t you do it then?” She whispered, eyes brimming with more tears. Looking to the boy she had loved since she was too young to understand the word. “It would save me the-”
“Stop it.”
“I deserve it, don’t I? For leaving you. You said so yourself, in your letter. I read it you know.”
“No, I didn’t mean-”
“I know you’ve cast it before-”
“I said stop,” he bellowed, pressing himself against her in a flash of pent up fury. His body flush against hers as his chest heaved with the weight of his rage. “Even if I wanted to,” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against her ear, “I can’t.” His hands tightened into fists, “He wants to do it himself.”
He peeled himself away from her, as though every inch of his skin that couldn’t feel hers was the worst form of torture. Drinking in every part of her except for her eyes, which he couldn’t bring himself to meet. She searched his, begging him to pull himself to meet hers.
“Is it that?” She breathed, fearful eyes rounded as she looked up to him. Searching for that thread that had always hung between them. His eyes grew tense as he saw what thoughts lay in hers, “Or is it because-”
“Stop.”
-you love me.
“Don’t,” he snapped, but even the sharp edge of his voice couldn’t distract from the despair swimming in his eyes. “Please,” he breathed, his head dipping towards her neck in defeat, but not daring to brush the skin, “don’t.”
He wanted to hold her, let his fingers trail across her cheeks, brush his thumb over her eyelashes. Just to make sure it was really her. Not some cruel trick made out to test his loyalty. But instead he let his breath fan across the bare skin of her neck. Knowing it was the only way he could allow himself to touch her.
“It was you I asked after,” his confession fell dead against the skin of her neck. He heard the breath she drew as though it was taken from him. Felt himself unravelling being so close to her now, after months of waiting and silence and searching.
Fuck it.
He’d be flayed for it, but everything could be damned. None of it mattered if he could feel her lips on his again. His hands flew to the delicate skin of her cheeks. Palms soaking in the remainder of her tears as his lips met hers. They parted effortlessly for him, welcoming him in as though she had been waiting just as he had. The softness of her lips balancing against his hunger. Her head tilted towards him, completely at his mercy beneath his calloused palms. Just as she should have been all this time.
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bby-deerling · 5 months
Note
Omg i need to read something where law gets jealous (there’s too much pining/tension) because I dont see it enough!!!! who is it x law pretty pleaseeee or I’ll take any similar recommendation 😩💛
thank you galaxy brained anon for this request!!!!!!! happy laws fingers friday for those who celebrate (posting this at 11:59 it still counts)!
law + who is it (nsfw, afab!reader)
18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 1.6k masterlist
cw: jealousy, oral sex (law receiving), pining and yearning, law is an idiot sometimes, no pronouns used but reader is loosely implied to be wearing a kimono (or something else easy access)
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Grip harsh on the sheath of his sword, Trafalgar Law was more than eager for this festival to be over so he could be done with this alliance and leave Wano behind forever.  Selfishly, the throbbing of his head from Luffy and Kid’s antics and his palpable frustration at the chaos that surrounded them paled in comparison to the pain from the twisted green thorns impaling his heart as he lurked in the shadows, eavesdropping on Kid making his move on you.
It wasn’t the first time either—both Kid and Killer had taken an interest in you on the docks last night.  Despite your rejection of their brazen advances, the sight was enough to make Law storm back aboard the Polar Tang and nearly claw his own eyes out, frustrated at the way the feelings he harbored for you were causing him to become completely unglued and far removed from his usual, collected self.
By no means did you belong to him, other than as a subordinate and a close friend, but the reality of the situation did nothing to soothe the possessiveness boiling in his veins.  He had spent years pining over you, engaging in a delicate back and forth of pushing the envelope with you, and prior to recent events, he thought these crumbs of affection and teasing would be enough for him to subsist on.  Relationships were tricky work, especially at sea where one’s life is a string, constantly dangling between the blades of a pair of scissors and ready to be cut short at a moment’s notice; in truth, Law had never experienced feelings like these before and wasn’t sure he knew how to be in a relationship, but seeing the tentative, unlabeled connection between you become threatened by that hot-headed brute made his brain go haywire.
Soft yellow light from the lanterns illuminating the street frames your face; you were as gorgeous tonight as you were any other, eyes shining bright with the mischief and sharp wit that he adored, and Law finds himself getting lost in your face until the harsh, unpleasant rumble of Kid’s voice reaches his eardrums.
“What’s your deal?  Got anyone you’re fooling around with?” Kid asks you, lips curled into a sneer as he eyes you up and down.
You shake your head.  “Nope, but if I did, they’d probably have eyebrows.” you tease, crossing your arms and leaning back against the wall behind you. 
Law watches cautiously, prepared for an explosion from the emotionally immature giant who hated nothing more than to be poked fun at.  Surprisingly, Kid simply chuckles and continues to banter with you, making Law grit his teeth in annoyance.
“But you’ve got someone you’re waiting around for, don’t you?  You wouldn’t be playing so hard to get with me if you weren’t holding out for someone else.” he says, taking a step forward and placing his good hand on the wall behind you.
You roll your eyes—Law hopes it’s because you’re annoyed at the presumption that you were playing hard to get in the first place. “Why do you care so much about what’s going on with me?”
“Because I think you can do better than Trafalgar.  Don’t you think he’s compensating for something with that sword?” Kid teases; you wince at the chill of his metal finger tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.
“And you aren’t?” you ask, moving your face out of his grip and tapping his prosthetic arm.  “The way to my heart isn’t by speaking poorly about Law.”
Not directly having told him to buzz off yet, Kid continues to take your resistance as a challenge.  “Fine.  He’s not worth the breath anyways.  Let’s talk about you instead.  You’re smoking hot, and Killer and I want to show you what a good time looks like with real pirates worth their salt.  Simple as that.”  The look on your face is difficult to read at a distance, and Law’s heartbeat quickly starts to get out of control, mind spiraling at the possibility that you were even remotely considering the offer.
A passerby lingers in Law’s line of sight and blocks his view, and he’s overcome by dread; blood running cold, he feels damned and wretched as he desperately cranes his neck to try to get a glimpse of you.  All he can see is Kid’s head leaning in closer to your face, and he finally snaps and allows himself to act on impulse, running into a nearby alley and bringing you towards him with a whisper of the word shambles.
His rational mind immediately regrets his decision to not think things through further and formulate a plan.   Using his devil fruit to pull you away from Kid confirmed that Law was weak for you—something that could be used as ammunition against him later if your crews met again on less peaceful terms.  More urgently, Law was not in any way emotionally prepared to have the conversation that he had summoned you here for, all of his words drying up on his tongue as he watches you adjust to your new surroundings and stare at him with wide-eyed gratitude.
His stuttering heartbeat quickens to the point of hurting as you throw your arms around him and bury your head into his chest. “Thanks for getting me out of that, Law.  You know how I freeze up when I get uncomfortable.” you mumble, glad to be free from Kid caging you against the wall and propositioning you.
Drowning in the feeling of you pressed against him, he holds you tight and allows his head to rest on top of yours.  The silence that settles in the air as you squeeze him lasts long enough for him to form a tentative plan of his next few moves to gently tell you how he feels—a plan that completely falls apart when you break the embrace and trace your fingers along the sheath of Kikoku.
“So, Captain,” you murmur with a teasing smile, “is it true you’re compensating for something?”  Law swallows hard, knowing you’re simply messing around, but something about hearing Kid’s words echoed back at him spurs him to act.  Blood running hot with irritation, envy, and lust, he can’t help but revert to acting on impulse.
“Why don’t you get on your knees and find out?” he shoots back without thinking, crossing his arms as he leans back.
“Out here?” you choke out, face burning; Law doesn’t miss the way your thighs rub against each other, confidence rising with the knowledge that you were craving him too.
“If you want me in my bed too, I can indulge you later.” he replies.  He watches your reaction carefully; for a moment he considers stopping here and playing this off as a bit and pushing things off to another day as he always did, but his heart catches in his throat as you drop to your knees and gaze up at him expectantly.
He shoots you a look to confirm you’re serious—an affirmative nod is all it takes for him to unbutton his jeans and free his cock.  You inhale sharply at the sight; he’s long with medium girth, and truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how you were going to fit all of him down your throat.
“Satisfied?” he taunts, amused at your reaction and staring down at you with darkened eyes.
“Very.” you reply, reaching one of your hands up to stroke him experimentally, softly sighing at the sinful sight of him in your grasp.
Law lets out a quiet groan as you stroke him, mind abuzz at the sensation, but still unable to curb his smart mouth.  “Quit staring and suck it, then.” he rasps, dragging his thumb down your cheek.  A chuckle escapes your lips as you take him in your mouth; he gasps at how warm and wet you are around his cock, and his hand tangles itself in your hair, desperate to feel as much of you at once as he can.
He guides your head but doesn’t push, letting you adjust to his length at your own pace.  Your hand pumps him at an even rhythm, timed with the circular drag of your tongue along his shaft as you bob your head.  Lewd chokes and muffled gasps fill the air as you take more of him in your mouth; the sounds you make are heavenly enough to make him want to lose control, but he holds out, wanting to feel every bit of what you had to give him.
“You’re taking me so good.” he praises; you moan softly in reply and swipe your tongue along his tip as your head retracts, making his breath hitch.  Shameless and messy, your thigh twitches as your drool splatters across it; your pupils are blown out with lust, and Law runs his thumb along your jawline reassuringly as you sharply inhale and take him as far as you can, head of his cock dipping down into your throat.
“Fuck, you feel good.  Just for me...” he whimpers, legs beginning to tremble as he feels himself getting close.  The sight of your doe-eyes staring up at him, tears running down your cheeks from your choking and spit in your hair is enough to make him spill down your throat, breathing ragged as waves of ecstasy take over his body, making him a slave to the pleasure you’re supplying him.  As he comes down from his high and catches his breath, the smile you give him is dripping with pride, and nearly springs his cock into action all over again.
“C’mere.” he purrs, pulling you to your feet and capturing your lips with his own as he pins you against the wall.  Inked fingers creep up your legs and rub circles into your inner thighs as his tongue pushes into your mouth, desperate to deepen the kiss. Pushing your panties to the side, he swipes two fingers along your slit, making you gasp and leaving him smirking at how wet you were for him.
“Your turn.  I’ve got to prove I’m worth my salt, after all.”
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ddarker-dreams · 5 months
Text
play wrestling — scaramouche.
Occasionally, there are instances in one’s life where regret embeds itself too deep to safely remove. 
Standing here, your back against the literal and proverbial wall, you’re reacquainted with this humbling reality. A reminder of your mortality. What a delicate substance it is, easily extinguishable like a candle to some. 
Violet eyes piercing enough to sever metal regard you, unamused and faintly malicious. You can’t say you didn’t bring this upon yourself. He pins your wrists above you with one hand. His grip is tight yet falls short of being painful. As much as you want to look away, he won’t permit it, so you maintain unflinching eye contact to prevent ruffling him further. 
“Well?” There’s a sardonic lilt to his voice that makes you shiver. “I’m waiting.” 
You part and close your lips in the same breath. Asking him for clarification won’t do you much good, he delights in watching you piece together his dubious intentions. The satisfaction he derives from it is a bit worrisome. Nonetheless, he offers you one saving grace he’d extend to no one else — patience.
What led up to this unfortunate development? Ah, yes, you saw fit to poke a slumbering beast with a stick. Scaramouche had been too preoccupied to entertain your whims. So, you being the genius that you are, offhandedly remarked that if he didn’t want to wrestle around with you, Tartaglia would certainly be up for it. 
No sooner had his junior Harbinger’s name left your lips did you find yourself pinned against a wall. 
He sighs, long and drawn out, as if you’re the source of all his woes. 
“You’re the one who proposed this insipid game, the least you can do is see it through.” 
One of the best boons from being in Scaramouche’s orbit is how many insults he adds to your vocabulary. His lexicon is vast and impressive. 
Now that you understand what he’s getting at, you push back against your restraints, gauging how effective this method would be. He doesn’t cede any ground. His lithe body belies the immense strength he can wield. He restricts your writhing without overexerting himself in the slightest. Realizing a battle of physical prowess won’t end in your favor, you employ a new tactic. 
The corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile at him softly. 
“Kuni,” you speak the nickname he weakly claims to abhor, “Won’t you go easy on me?” 
The tips of the Harbinger’s ears turn red. He scoffs, turning his head to hide how effortlessly you fluster him. “Of course not. If I always indulged you, you’d become more insufferable than you already are.” 
“That’s rude.” 
“The truth often is.” 
While he’s preoccupied with your exchange, you twist your body, placing your best on the element of surprise. He’d need to quickly readjust the angle at which he’s holding your wrist to stop you. For half a second, you think you have him beat, but he leans in, using his torso to block your escape. A wicked grin spreads on his face at your little underhanded tactic. 
You swallow thickly. 
“Awe, don’t look so defeated! The effort was there,” he snickers. “Maybe next time?” 
“Don’t you have things to do? It’s not like you can hold me here all day, right?” 
He stares at you blankly. 
“... Right?” You repeat, chuckling weakly. 
“Hm, I don’t know. I’m starting to see the appeal to this game of yours. Let’s play a while longer.” 
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shitpostingkats · 4 months
Text
Riz Gukgak and his bloody hands
SUCH a metal visual and motif. Kalina, Baron, they tease him for it, they twist it into one of his worst qualities, just as they belittle that he his heart, leverage his fear that he cannot love anyone enough.
Riz Gukgak loves. He will claw himself to shreds on love. He will dig through reality, lacerating himself on crystal, just to help his childhood friend. He will hiss at the devil, he will bite out eyes, he will do anything to help his friends feel safe. He will attempt to eat an entire dragon. Out of love for a father he barely knew.
"That’s you saying “I love you” to the people who matter to you the most."
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toomanyf4ndoms7 · 2 years
Text
I think I have an idea for the first challenge.
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winterarmyy · 10 months
Text
Around My Scars
Glimpses of mafia!bucky and his wife's arranged married life.
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Summary: A careless decision leads to Bucky almost losing his wife.
Note: Read 《 Plot Twist 》 for backstory of the couple.
Words: 5.1k++
Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, physical assault (not from bucky), sexual assault (not from bucky), graphic violence, reader is lowkey a badass, pussyjob, reader on top but bucky in control, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, extra soft!bucky, fluff, tiny angst, etc.
P/S: If you have not read the original story yet. You can read it first for backstory. If not, you still can read it as standalone. And for those who came from plot twist series, I noticed there's a lot of you wanting more from this couple. So here's one of the glimpses of what happen somewhere in the future. Enjoy ♡
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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All her life, she never thought a kiss could be this gentle. In fact every time Bucky's lips graced on her skin, it was impossibly tender. His kisses trailed along her bare back, from the center of her waist up to the back of her shoulder.
His lips followed the surrounding shape of her scarring wounds, as if he was tracing the shadows of them. His hot breath fanning against her cold skin and the deep, and subtle hum of his voice lulled her to near slumber.
Unlike his soft pillowy lips, his hands however were the opposite. His right was calloused and warm while the other was smooth and cold. Yet both of them were cupping her bare breasts perfectly; they felt so good on her skin.
It felt good like this; nothing in between them. Not even a single piece of clothing separating them apart. Bare and naked.
"Bucky..." a quiet moan was drawn from her lips as his hands squeeze her softness before they roamed around her frame.
Bucky only tightens his hold on her upon hearing her voice. It was if he was afraid that she was not real. As if she was just an illusion he was despretely holding onto.
He pulled her impossibly closer, his metal arm wrapped around her waist, gripping on the side while his right hand palming her chest, right above where her heart was beating.
She's real. She's here.
His own voice reassured his doubtful mind.
However, Y/N was getting nothing from her husband. Only grunts and growl and him snuggling into her, "Bucky, baby? What's wrong, honey?" she coaxed him softly as her hand reached back to played with his hair.
It took a few moments of silence before Bucky finally replied, his voice sounded like regret, "It's my fault, y/n."
~ ~ Flashback ~ ~
It was a normal day for the couple. A lovely day, in fact. They were on one of their 'undercover' dates. At least, that what Y/N called it. A name she came up with that makes Bucky rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Apparently, after the diner date they had before, they find themselves wanting more of it. The normality of life outside of the reality they lived in. And they surely made it a weekly schedule. Not that it was chore for them though, it never was, never will be.
After visiting the Brooklyn Book Festival and basically almost hauling the displays, they were planning to eat the new cafe near the location. But, as soon as they find the seats, Bucky got a call.
He was not supposed to even received any call.
That was one of the rules he set himself; no business during their dates. For whatever reason, this one got through him.
"Probably something huge." Y/N guessed as she watched Bucky excuses himself to pickup the call.
And her hunch was true. It was a huge deal. Especially when she saw his expression when he was approaching their table.
"I'm sorry, sweets. I really hate to leave you like this." He apologized when Y/N said she was okay to eat lunch alone.
"It's okay, I'm already here so it'd be a waste to completely cancel the plan." She continued to justify her decision for the reasons that the new café was hard to book a table, as if Bucky couldn't just book the whole goddamn café everyday for the rest of their life for her.
But, in the end, she did managed to persuade him. Bucky gentlely pulled her by the chin, before placing a soft kiss on her lips; whispering promises to make it up for her.
As his promises were laced with sweetness and sin, Y/N couldn't help but to smile against his lips, humming in agreement before watching him jog to the car.
She waved him a final goodbye and smiled at Steve who came to pick him up. The car drove away, leaving two of Bucky's men behind to look after Y/N.
If only Bucky knew how careless his decision was to leave those particular men in charge of his wife. Both were high on drugs and was not in a condition to be on duty. Especially a duty as important as protecting the lady of mansion.
At first it wasn't clear why she felt a little out after her lunch. She thought she would be fine after a little walk at the nearby park but she was wrong. Utterly wrong; especially when her vision went dark all of the sudden.
When she woke up in that basement, it clicked her. Her drink or food must have been spiked.
How long has it been since? How far away is she now from Bucky? Y/N woke up knowing nothing. Not knowing the place she was in nor the duration she had passed out.
Her heart was pumping fast, all the while her body was deadly cold. She was expecting to be tied up on a chair, at least she could try wiggle herself out of it but luck wasn't on her side.
Metal chains securely cuffed around her wrists as well as her ankles. Her movement was limited as the end of the chains were attached to the wall behind here. Anxiety threatens her to cry but she tried to stay calm.
Y/N looked at her surroundings. It seems to be a run down basement. There's lack of natural light source; the very little lighting were coming from the dim fluorescent lamp right above her head and another two in different location.
Clearly some empty bottles of alcohol were scattering all over the place. But none of those items were close enough for her to reach out to. Y/N heard laughs from behind the rusty metal door. It had two distinct voices; one deep and another was rather squeaky.
A clacking sound seemed to indicate that someone was unlocking the door. As the door opened, a man in his mid 30s walked in with a cruel smile.
He walked closer followed by two other man behind him; both were armed. Y/N frantically crawled back to meet her back to the walls behind her, the metal chains rubbed with each other, breaking the silence in the room.
"Stay back!" she warned.
The brutal man took a chair and sat in front of her. He looked like that type of person who would do anything for power. He had nothing but fiery eyes.
He look down and said "What's your name, sweetheart?" his voice demand nothing but a clear answer.
Y/N glared up to him, "I'd tell you, but I don't like being labelled." If hatred was visible the air would have been scarlet. The man could see she was not afraid to bite if he reach his hands out.
He chuckled darkly, "You're funny..." But unfortunately, he wasn't the type to reach out, he's more likely to; lash out.
The silenced room was once again tainted with sound, but this it wasn't just the moving chains but there was also the sound created from the impact of the harsh slap across Y/N's face.
The back of his hand hit and she fell with the force of it, "Urghh.." she groaned as she fall flat on the ground. The man continued, "... but not funny enough."
She can taste the coppery liquid on her tongue; she must have injured herself. Her cheeks stings as hell but Y/N was never the type to stay quiet and cry in front of people, especially to her enemies.
She giggled eerily as she sat back up, the undying flames in her eyes burn brighter, "Well that was fucking weak." she spat out the blood right on his shiny black shoes.
The man slipped out hysterical laugh, "I see why he like to keep you around." he smirked and stood from the chair. He dragged the rickety wooden chair away and threw it farther away than the original position.
Y/N had her gaze as strong as her will to live. The man look back to the tiny woman on the dusty floor before walking away. "Sir, what do we do with the girl?" One of the guards asked.
The man stopped midway through the door and stay silence for awhile, a wicked thought came through him, "Do whatever you want to do. As long as she remains alive." he snapped his head back to display a meaningful malicious grin and closed the doors behind him.
It was just a second of a glimpse, but the man clearly saw Y/N's despair in her expression. Too bad he had to go so soon.
As the doors closed, the two man look at each other and back to Y/N. A person doesn't need be a genius to read the mood. She knew exactly what's going to happen and for the first time a long time, she was petrified. For the first time in forever, she was scared for her life.
She couldn't breathe, it felt as if someone was choking her. Her heart was racing and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save her. But no one would, no one was there.
A choked cry for help forced itself up her throat, "Get away! Don't come any closer!" she felt a drop run down her cheek. It seemed as if this was the end of the road for her.
"Get the fuck away from me!" Y/N roared hoping the two man had a little bit fear but considering her position, that obviously not going to happen.
The man fearless and shamelessly grabbed her despite she was crying out pleads. "Come now, sweets. Make this easy for us."
Sweets. It sounds so disgusting coming from another man.
One of the man grabbed a hold of her wrists while another took his time feasting her with his eyes.
"P-please don't d-do this..." she sniffled as her strength were getting weaker, despite all of the quarrels and battle she had gone through before, she should be fearless.
But, when one is looking into eyes that lurked with such dark lust as those she was seeing right now; fear is bound to creep in. No matter how strong-willed a person see themselves as.
"Don't worry, we'll be gentle if you behave." he licked his upper lips as he run his hand along her waist up to her chest.
It was disgusting, every cells on Y/N's body was rejecting his touch; her throats seemed like it was trying to force her to puke something out but there's nothing but the nausea.
Tears kept falling down as they escape from the corner of her eyes. She was beyond terrified, even with her struggling; it seemed to be useless.
The man grabbed on the fabric of her sundress that was framing her collarbone and forcibly ripped them apart, exposing Y/N in her bra. The man scanned her body once more, cock straining in his pants.
Damn, she looked like sin.
He managed to gripped her hands together in one hand before she could protest even more. His other hand reaching to her breast.
No.
His rough grip on her breast was only bringing her pain than pleasure. But he was rather enjoying the tenderness of her body.
No.
He dipped in closer; he stuck his tongue out to lick the valley of her breasts, leaving trails of his disgusting stickiness behind.
Stop.
He hummed in satisfaction, approving the way she tasted. His bulge rubbing against her clothed core, humping for pleasure. Y/N couldn't look at him.
Please, stop.
But the moment she looked away, she made eye contact to the other man behind him. He had his cock in his hand, lazy strokes and a wicked smile when the tears fell down from her eyes.
"So pretty, baby" he mouthed.
For a moment there Y/N stopped struggling. She sat still like a doll who loses its' battery power, the man's statement rang in her head in an infinite loop.
"You're beautiful, y/n" Bucky's voice resurfaced in her mind.
"You're always going to be mine." the voice continued.
"I'm always going to be there to protect you, sweets."
The flashbacks run through her head faster than a bullet train.
Seeing how Y/N stopped moving, they thought she gave up. But then again, some people never learn. Don't ever underestimate your opponent.
She get the hold of herself, pulled her head back and headbutt the man in front of her. She didn't even care if she could get a concussion herself from the impact. The man ended up falling back on his ass as he grunts in pain.
"Stay. The Fuck. Away. From Me." She threatened.
Though her defiant only spark anger from the man, rather than fear. When he regained his balance, he slipped the leather belt from his pants, "You asked for this little girl. So be it." he grunts as he pulled a hand back.
His palm strikes her on already stinging cheeks, making her fall on her chest. Before she could pushed herself up, she was forced to stay down as the man pressed his boots at the back of her head.
"You need to be trained like a bitch. And I'm gonna give you exactly that." His words only sounded like a warning to her.
Which was exactly it, when she felt the first strike of his belt across her back. It was one of many mean and harsh whipping on her delicate skin. Until she was aching, bleeding.
As sick as he was, enjoying the thrill of torturing a defenseless girl, the other man was much more twisted, as he kept stroking himself as he watched Y/N bleed and whimpered.
It was disgusting, it was painful; And at one point her hands were reaching around only to clung on the man's other foot.
Surprisingly he stopped, "Learnt your lessons yet, mutt?"
Y/N can hear his sinister smile despite her face planted on the floor. She didn't reply, the only sound can be heard from her, is her unstable breathing.
Wanting as answer, he foolishly pulled his foot away from her head, "Are you deaf? Answer me!" He pushed.
Foolish he was.
Y/N fought against the agonizing pain on her back and took the advantage to pull his leg as hard as she could, making his fall on the floor. She was swift with her next move; she hit the man's groin with her elbow, automatically lower the protection his other part of his body.
As he was busy tending his wounded balls, Y/N slide behind him and wrapped the chains around his neck, she yanked the man as she tighten the crossover metal chains.
"You better stay the fuck away from me or he's dead." She warned the other man who was trying to get to her, he called her bluff. He took a step closer, still pushing his luck.
Y/N strengthen her grip as well as pulling the chain as hard as she could, practically strangling and knocking out the breath out of his throat. "S-Stop. S-stay there." the dying man stuttered.
The other obliged and had his hand up in the air as a sign of surrender. Y/N glared up to the man, "Lay your filthy hands on me again, I won't hold back." she growled in his ears before drifting his head towards the wall, knocking him unconscious.
Upon seeing his accomplice slouched to the floor with a bleeding head, the other man tried to grabbed and hold her down. But she quickly grabbed the gun from the unconscious man, and pulled the trigger.
Her aim was off but enough to disarm him. His right shoulder now had a hole through it. He grunted to agonizing pain on his shoulder, but he should've known to not let his guard down. Then, it hits him. Another hole through the shins of his left leg.
He screamed and wailed, sucking air in and out of his mouth, holding on to the last cliff of his life as he fell into his knees and down to the floor.
Despite the lack of protest from the man, Y/N didn't let her guard down as she still holding on the gun in her grip.
At this point, Y/N was losing more than just her blood, but her strength and vision too. She blinked slowly, waiting for glimpse of threat from the entrance.
Even if the two men were rendered immobilized, however she knew gunshot will alert the others. Anyone could barge in at any point of time. And she needed to be ready for them.
The door was getting blurry in her point of view and the cracking headache greeted as painful as the other wounds all over her back.
The dark silence didn't last long as Y/N can clearly heard a lot of movements from the level above her. One time she heard multiple footsteps running around and another she heard loud cracks much resembles a sound of a "Gun shots..." she breathed.
It took a single kick on the rusty old metal door; Y/N's body jumped out of reflex to the sound of the door fall from it's frame. As the door fell down, it revealed the face of a man who Y/N thought she could never see ever again.
His face were painted with the colour of crimson, almost covering half of his beautiful features; but his sapphire eyes shines the same. Even if her hearts was pumping fast, it seemed like the man was more desperate for air than she herself.
A sense of relief hit her like the crashing wave as she called out his name, "Bucky..."
Bucky stood there,dark and dangerous; just a few steps away from the woman he claimed as his. His heart seemed to stop for a split second; there she was — crawled in the corner of the dim lit room, both hands and legs chained to the wall behind her.
It's not that Bucky couldn't see there were others in the basement besides her; he knew that, he could see them but the nudity of his wife's chest caught his attention and he could see the pieces of her torn clothes were near her wounded ankles and wrists.
The cuts on around her skin, cause by the metal cuffs symbolizes her struggles. The bright pair of eyes that Bucky had always admired; they glint, however, in pain and tears.
A sight that Bucky never wanted to see.
Frozen in his spot, Y/N gathered all the strength she had left, to shout his name once again, "Come here, Bucky..." the sound of the strained metal chain echoed along with her shaky plead, as she reach her arms out towards her husband.
Pleading for his touch, his warmth.
It took less than a second after hearing her calling, for Bucky to sprint towards her. Completely ignoring the riot of bullets echoed from above them, even stepping on the men on the floor.
He had lost her for less than seven hours, but it felt like forever. Bucky fell down to his knees as he wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her head to his chest. He hold onto her tightly, as if someone was trying to rip her away from his grasps.
It was slight, but Bucky could clearly feel her body shivering body in his embrace as she cried to his chest, a piercing pain struck his heart, "I'm here. I'm here." he whispered softly.
His hand found it's way to her back, wanting to give her a tender stroke of reassurance but he found himself frozen to the sensation on his palm.
At first he felt it; wet and sticky. But when he brought his hands up to the light, he finally saw how his whole palm were covered in blood. Her blood. His wife's blood.
A wave of pure rage reigned his whole being and what happen that day had become one of the things Bucky's men will never forget.
Bucky made sure it rain blood that day.
And it was truly a gruesome sight to see.
~ ~ End of Flashback ~ ~
Since the day Y/N woke up in their bed, Bucky never left her side. Not even for his business, for weeks now Bucky had temporarily place the authority to Steve and he had spend his day tending his wife as he should.
Now, weeks later from that day, Bucky is claiming that it was his fault that she was kidnapped?
No, it absolutely was not. Far from it. How is y/n getting kidnapped is his fault? How is y/n getting tortured is his blunder? That does not make any sense. Not in any universe.
"I should've been there with you." He explained.
Bucky's kisses took a halt in the crook of her neck, he relishes the sweet scent emitting from her as his lips rested on her weak spot. Where does the scent coming from? Was it from her body lotion or from her shampoo. Eitherway, it was intoxicating.
He almost felt guilty for finding a calming relief from it. He wasn't nearly worthy enough to find peace in her. And yet here he was; selfish and greedy for the friction of her touch, the influence of her scent, the melody of her moans, all of her.
Y/N release herself from his embrace and swiftly changed her position to straddling him. His eyes searched her face, wondering if she was uncomfortable and how can he please her.
She run her hands through his hair as she chooses her words carefully, "Yes, you should. But that doesn't justify why you blame yourself for it." She leaned into him, brushing the tip of her nose on his.
Before Bucky can protest, Y/N shuts him up with a kiss on his lips, "It was not your fault. No one knew that they going to spike my drink. No one knew that they managed to drug up your men. Honey, it was an accident. It was not your fault, it never was and never will be." She was only speaking the truth, even Bucky couldn't argue.
He leaned his forehead on her before speaking up, "I just hate seeing you get hurt, sweets." Bucky sighed, as a frown formed on his face.
Y/N does not want Bucky to dwell in this darkness again. He kept doing it for the past weeks, and though some days she managed to pull him out, some other she failed. This worries her; it scared her.
Bucky might not notice it right now since his mind was blurry with worry; but if he was more aware of his surroundings he might just notice how Y/N was slowly leaking on his cock. His girth was slotted perfectly between her pussy and the sight of it turns her on.
It's been awhile since they feel each other; due to her injuries Bucky was constantly worrying about hurting her during sex.
And she was desperate for him, she want him to remove all the bad memories of that day. Douse her with his touch, mark her body so the traces of the man will no longer bear any meaning to her.
Her cunt twitches to the thought, she couldn't help but to grind her hips. Letting his cock glides through her folds; getting it wet from her fluids, "Then love on me, Bucky." It was an instant respond from Bucky, his cock was growing hard on command.
His gaze briefly fell on where his cock was buried between, before looking up to her hazy eyes. "...If you don't want to see me hurt. Then make love to me, let me show you how good you make me feel." She coaxed as her hips continues to grind on him.
Each movement causing throbs of need on her clit. She kept brushing it along his length, presses a little force when it reached to the tip of cock. Bucky moaned in sheer pleasure everytime she did that.
"Please, Bucky I miss you..” She mumbled softly, rolling her hips a bit, making him groan as he melted, "I miss you too, babydoll." He breathes out deeply before placing a sweet kiss on lips.
Bucky held her by the side of her hips and pushes her down further, as he slowly thrusted his hard throbbing cock in between the wet slit of her pussy.
The immense sensation on her was beyond words to describe. She thought she knew pleasure before but turn out she was wrong. Unable to even utter a single coherent word, Bucky on the other hand wasn't planning disappoint her.
Bucky's thrusts get faster and rougher by time until he started to hump her almost uncontrollably, letting out these little desperate groans.
"Feel so good, Buck-- ah shit--" Y/N moaned, her face flushed pink, mouth hanging open as her pussy throbbed against his drenched cock. Every time he push forward, he could feel himself spreading the lips of her pussy apart.
His pace did not drop as his goal is to make her cum just by him fucking through her folds alone. He want see her feeling good. And sure enough, she began to whimper, "I'mma cum. Bucky, please don't stop. I'm cumming."
Bucky leaned into her ears and whispered, "Go ahead, babydoll. Cum for me. Let me see your face when I make you cum. That's it baby, hmmm, so pretty. Can feel ya clenching. Feels good doesn't it, sweets. Yeah you do." He held her still as he thrusted against her slick again and again, letting her ride her high; his pace was faster and maybe a bit more desperate than before while she from her orgasm.
Bucky caught her from falling back into the mattress, he leaned her body towards himself. Letting her rest on his chest. Slow drag of his cock on her pussy felt so good, she might have had a mini orgasm from it.
"Babydoll, gonna make you feel even more better. Gonna stuff your pussy full. Can I? Promise it'll make you feel so good. Want that, sweets?" Bucky coaxed her with sinful temptation that she couldn't resist.
"Yes please. Wanna be stuffed and full of you and your cum. Please?" She didn't need to beg like that for Bucky to comply.
His hand searched for hers before he interlock her fingers with him. He sit her up on her knee, using one of his free hand to line the tip of his cock at her entrance. 
Y/N's whole body trembled when he thrust himself up into her one swift movement. He watch as her eyes are furrowed shut, lips parted in pleasure. Her knuckles whiten as they grip the sheets and his hand.
Oh she was so full. So full of him.
Bucky bite his lip at the feeling of being inside her, the clenching her walls around his needy cock. He lift her up off him slowly, ceating a slow but deep pace, she let the sounds of his deep groans fill her ears. He’s not noisy, but just very vocal, every breath coming out as moan of pleasure.
"You’re so good for me, Bucky."  She praise breathlessly. "So good".
His hips buck up and she hiss as he inadvertently thrusts into her deeper than before. "God," he almost whined, lost at the feel of her warm cunt.
Y/N was also feeling as good. The sting of the stretch was amazing. She bite back her moan as he rubbed all over her favourite spots inside, "Hmmpph! Buck- ahh. please, ahh-- fuck me so good." She let out a breathy mumbling noises as he continue drill his cock in and out of her.
"Feels amazing being inside you, sweets. So warm, so wet. Fuck-- yeah just that, milk me like that yeahh" Bucky's hips moved upwards and downward as he fucks her rough and messy, holding her tightly against his body as he bounces her up and down on his cock.
Both of the pair of eyes never left each other. Eyes roaming to stare either at each others fucked-out face or to where their sex was connected.
How lewd it was; the way he languidly pumps himself in and out of her. How her small little hole could swallow his cock perfectly in each of his hips thrusts. How beautiful the sweat glistens across her skin;
The way Bucky dips his head into her to pepper kisses on her neck, the way his brows furrow when he gives a particularly deep thrust. Every single thing about it was beautiful.
Bucky felt so thick inside of her and he's hitting so deep, it felt fucking incredible. She can feel the pressure building inside of her, "i'm gonna cum again... oh god, bucky baby,-- ahh fuck-- "
Bucky encouraged her with with low growl and she moaned raggedly as she came on his cock; squeezing him tight, and his thrusts become even wilder, "fuck yes, squeezing me so nice. Gonna cum inside ya, sweets. Will have my load leaking from your pussy baby." his groan were starting to sound more desprete.
Still high on orgasm, she nods in agreement, "yes, Bucky. Wanna feel you leaking please" She pleaded as she felt another wave of pleasure was trying to burst.
Bucky's thrusts loses it's pattern as he chased his high, "oh fuck, i'm cummin' inside ya, sweets! Fuck fuck fuck" strings of curses spilled before he let out a long moan as his cock burst on his high, filling her to the brim with his thick hot cum.
Naturally, she came as well, accompanied by a sweet mewl as her walls pulsed around him while he empties ropes and ropes of his cum inside her, whimpering into her ear.
When he's finally finished he gives a long, contented sigh he slowly lay on the bed, gently bringing her along as he rested her head on his chest. With his cock still resting in her throbbing pussy, Bucky thought of going for round two.
But when he heard the soft snores coming from his wife, he put that thought in a backlog, and instead decided to help clean his babydoll up so she could get a better rest as she deserved.
By the time she was well taken care of, Bucky scrolled through his text messages with Steve. The 'temporary in charge' was apparently also in charge of depriving life out of the two men who had assaulted Y/N.
"Are they dead yet?" Bucky prompted.
"No. They beg to though." Steve replied.
"Then, let them beg to death." Bucky ended the conversation, before placing his phone aside.
Though he takes pleasure in torturing his prey with his own bare hands however nothing is more important than being by his wife's side when she needed him the most.
Besides, those scum will live long enough for Bucky to come down there and bring hell to them himself. He will make sure of that. But until then, nothing matters to Bucky than being here for his babydoll.
End.
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Text
The Farmer's Daughter 15
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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Walter sighs as he shuts the hood of the truck. He tuts and faces you, keeping his hand on the metal, his other going to his hip. He looks at you then the sky behind you. The rain has stirred the scent of mud and grass and left a glaze over everything. 
“You’re lucky the thing didn’t blow up in your face,” he says. “Maybe the rain saved you.” 
“Oh, I... didn’t know,” you utter nervously. “Timothy said it was fine--” 
“Yeah, well, shows how much he knows,” Walter stands straight and pushes back his curls, “he’s not ready. He’s too young. I’ll make sure he learns. Be sad if he through away all your dad’s hard work, huh?” 
“Y-yeah, I guess,” you swallow. His words remind you of the imbalance. You need him. That’s the reality that brought you all the way up here. 
“Right, well, I’ll deal with it later. I got some chains I can use to get it up to the house but we should head into town then go see your mother. Make sure she isn’t worried sick,” he steps towards you and brings his hand up under your chin. You fight not to shy away, “what were you thinking? Putting yourself in danger like that?” 
“I... I had to come see you--” 
He smiles, “that’s sweet but I’d rather you wait and have you in one piece, sweetheart.” 
You nod into his hand and wince as he leans in. His thumb rubs your chin as he tilts your head up and he presses his lips to yours. Your surprised by his gentleness, though his beard grazes your roughly. You let him kiss you as he swoops an arm around to wrap you up. 
When he parts, your breathless and dizzy. His eyes gleam down at you, “wife,” he rasps out, “we’re almost there.” 
The shift in his mood puts you off. It’s just like back in the kitchen, one moment he’s terse and short, almost disappointed, the next he’s almost delicate and content. He releases you and takes you by the hand. You follow him back up towards the house. 
You wait outside as he runs in to get his keys. As he comes back out, you open the door of the truck and brace the interior. You put your foot on the small metal step to pull yourself up and gasp as you’re lifted from behind. Walter helps you into the seat and you wriggle free with a meek ‘thank you’. 
He kisses your cheek before he shuts the door. You focus on buckling the belt as he rounds the front of the truck. He climbs into the driver’s side and turns the engine. He sets off, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the corner of your seat. 
You sit quietly, watching the hills roll by. This is it. This is your life. You’re going to married and a wife and you’re going to be tied to this man and these lands forever. You never really thought it out, you just expected life to unfold before you. 
He pulls up to the bank and turns into the lot. He steers into one of the angled spots and kills the engine. You tap your fingers on your legs before you regain your bearings. As he opens his door, you do the same. You get out, hopping down with a small oof. You catch yourself on the door. 
Walt stomps around, “hey, hey, careful. Don’t hurt yourself.” 
“I’m fine,” you smile, “really, I can manage.” 
“I just don’t want you twisting your ankle,” he says. 
“Um, okay, all good,” you show him your foot, “really.” 
He stares at you. His cheek ticks. He takes your hand and shuts the passenger door. He tugs you away towards the front of the building. As you follow the sidewalk down to the entrance, you pass a few other curious pedestrians. You don’t miss there gazes and the low whispers between them. 
You go inside and find the bank empty. Walter drags you to the counter and taps the bell on it. You stand on your toes to see over the high desk and see a head pop out of a back office. The woman looks unimpressed as she goes to bang on the door next to hers, “customers.” 
She quickly retreats as you wait. The next door opens and another woman emerges. She’s taller than the other one, slimmer too. She struts over as she tugs straight the collar of her blouse. Her pretty pink lipstick clings to one lip as the other is faded to its natural hue. 
“Hello, folks, how can I help you today.” 
“I’d like to speak with an advisor about a mortgage,” Walter says as he lets go of your hand, instead hovering his large one along your lower back. 
“That’s exciting,” she chimes, “you and... I didn’t know you married?” 
“Not yet,” Walter exhales, “anyway, do you got someone available? I don’t really have time to sit around.” 
“Sure, sure, Pete should be able to help you out. I’ll just take you to an office.” 
The woman, Marska, comes around the desk and waves you down the hall. She takes you into an office and leaves you there. You and Walter lower yourself into the stiff chairs. He reaches between to offer his hand. You take it and nervously stare at the empty desk. 
There’s a tap on the doorframe and a man enters. Pete. You’ve seen him before when you came to the bank with your mother. 
“Morning,” he says as he swaggers around to sit behind the desk, “lovely to see you folks bright and early.” He offers his hand across the desk and Walter reluctantly lets go of yours to shake it. Pete looks at you and you hesitantly shake his hand. The man beside you shifts and huffs. “So, we’re looking into a mortgage, huh?” 
The manager smiles as he leans back nonchalantly in his chair. He looks between you and Walter, “gone and snagged yourself a young one, huh, Marshall?” 
Walter growls and crosses his arms, “I have a down payment.” 
“Uh, yeah, of course,” Pete rolls his chair closer to the desk, “just making some small chat. Big news, the two of you.” 
“Is it?” Walter challenges. 
“Marriage is a big deal, isn’t it?” Peter chuckles nervously. 
“You would know,” Walter sneers as he sniffs, “you got something on your cheek.” 
You only notice at the mention of it. Your eyes retreat from the window to Pete’s face, the smear of pink along his cheek. You look away, embarrassed for him. It must be true what they say about him and Marska. 
“Uh, thanks,” Pete wipes his face with his sleeve, “let’s just jump in then.” He puts his hands over the keyboard and clears his throat. You can see a trickle of sweat along his hairline as Walter’s disapproval burns through the small office.  
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crow-raven-crow · 4 months
Note
hi this is a very simple and kinda vague request, but i'd luv a larissa x fem reader fic involving feet or hand play? either that or something involving the reader realizing she really likes how larissa smells when she comes home from work and larissa starts to tease her and encourages her to smell her while they're fucking because of that. maybe both! hope this isn't too weird lol
𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡
𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]
✧・.☽˚。・゚✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧・゚。˚☾.・✧
𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~3k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff !! teasing, NSFW, Reader receiving, g!p Larissa, hand kink, choking kink, slight marking, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, begging, praise kink, mommy kink, shape shifted dick, what a way to come back ohmygods
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see above
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
AO3 link in title ✧・.☽˚。・゚✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧・゚。˚☾.・✧
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✧・.☽˚。・゚✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧・゚。˚☾.・✧
The crackling fireplace painted dancing shadows against the dark walls, creating a show of golden hues just feet before you. The warmth emanating from the soft flames filled you with a peaceful comfort with each bursting ember. Soft, worn pages of a book sat in your hands, the universe that it created in your mind was almost impossible to keep up with, as it kept clouding over with thoughts of her.
The mere thought of her name casted a spell over your senses, making your heart swell and your stomach fill with butterflies. Images of her echoed through your mind, your heart quickening in pace as you did so. You were so consumed with the show of her in your mind, that the book had become long forgotten, as your eyes focused on the flickering firelight.
You felt the rumble of her laughter echo in the chambers of your mind, the softness of her touch as though it was tracing invisible patterns against your skin, the tenderness of her lips as they kissed along your body as though it was a masterpiece, the pleasure of her tongue as though she-
The metallic sound of a key turning in the lock cut through the quiet of your quarters, closing all previous thoughts and jolting you back into reality. The world outside your thoughts immediately rushed back in, leaving only the lingering emotions of them in their place. Your chest heaved slightly, a noticeable heat rushing to your face and making your whole body hot as you caught onto your most recent thoughts.
You quickly composed yourself, inhaling deeply in attempt to settle the small heat igniting within you. Standing slowly as you let out the breath, you placed your book onto the side table, the pages neglected as the fire still roared on and danced behind you. You stepped closer as the door slowly swung open, an excitement filling your chest knowing that she stood behind it. The sight of her stilled the air in your lungs, your lips parting ever so slightly as you took in her beauty.
Her white hair, almost glowing with the light of the flames behind you, was perfectly pinned in her flawless updo, each strand falling together perfectly with each other in every twist she pinned. The pin at the back of her head concealed the length of the silvery locks, but came together to show her grace and elegance all the same. The dress she wore clung onto her every curve, the sleek grey becoming a canvas to her form, allowing her sapphire eyes to pop with the cool tones. The collar of the dress flared out just enough to draw attention to her neck and the delicate lines of her collarbones. The belt that tied around her waist framed her hips in a way that made your mouth water. Gold accents adorned her wrists and neck, being the final touch of warmth that brought out the beauty of her tall frame.
As she entered the room, it was as though all the gods worked in her favor. The light from the flames lighting up her features, yet the dark colors of the room giving her command over it all if she were to say a word.
You must have been staring for too long, your eyes moving up and down along her form to drink in every detail that it snapped you back to the present when you felt her hand trace along your jawline. Her delicate fingers smoothed up the features of your face, cupping your cheek in her palm before laying a gentle kiss against your lips. It was warm, tender as though it was translating a million unsaid words: perfect.
"Hello, my dear.." Her voice was just as serene, overflowing with the happiness and love as though it were day one all over again. Her lips shadowed over your own as she spoke, delicate in all her movements as though she would break you like porcelain. The scent of her perfume overtook your senses, the intoxicating smell of her being so strong that it made your eyes roll back slightly and a deep breath of it fill your lungs.
"Hi, my love.." Your voice was just above a whisper, but running deep with the effect that she had on you. She had known for a while just how drunk you could get on the smell of her alone, and since then she made it a point to wear a little more every so often.
You allowed her to settle into your quarters, her heels quickly coming off with a distinct click of each heel. As she moved deeper into the room, all her items found their familiar homes, making your heart swell knowing this was a place of home to her. Your gaze lingered on her form, watching as comfort seemed to overtake her, her shoulders relaxing and her face coming to a content calm. It was hard not to fall in love with her all over again just at the simplest of things.
You followed behind her with two wine glasses and her favorite bottle, as she moved to sit on the couch in front of the fire. This was one of your favorite ways to unwind with her, and relishing in each others company was something that you would always cherish.
Though.. your thoughts from earlier always had a way of coming back in, especially now that she was even more of a delicious distraction being in front of you.
She spoke about her day, going through the details of her meetings and any particularly interesting emails she had to deal with today. The way she spoke with her hand was mesmerizing, easily capturing you in a trance due to your already heated thoughts about her, as your eyes devoured every detail of her long fingers. You felt your eyelids grow heavy, your breathing hitch and your mouth water as you remembered just what those fingers could do to you.. How she could so easily have you at her mercy.. digging into your flesh and leaving crescent marks in their wake, trailing along your skin and rising goosebumps with each pass, have your back arching and your hips swaying with one simple touch-
"Y/n.. Could you repeat what I just said, my dear?" Her voice shocked you back into your body, the rapid blinking of your eyes and the small jump when she had said your name giving you away immediately. She seemed amused at your blush, the pink hue only making a smirk come to her red painted lips as she caught on to where your thoughts were.
"I- U-Um.. You-" As you spoke, her fingers trailed up your arm, smoothly tracing against your skin and leaving electricity in her path. The rest of your words were cut off when her fingers made it to your collarbones, eventually curling their way around your throat and squeezing oh so gently.
The sensation made your eyes roll back as they fluttered shut, your fingertips gripping onto the hem of your skirt as you felt her move closer to your form, her breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. "What exactly is floating through the pretty head of yours, darling?"
You could feel your heart rate pick up, especially with her fingers resting just above your pulse point, and you were sure she could feel it too. The way your thighs clenched together and how a small whimper left your throat as she squeezed harder were all signs of how the night would go.
"Your- mmph.. your fingers.." Your chest heaved in pleasureful desperation as her lips moved down your neck, her fingers pushing against your jaw and allowing her room to flatten her tongue against your skin. Arousal shot right through to your core, and she'd barely even touched you.
She pushed you down slightly, your hair sprawling out against the cushion as she shifted perfectly between you legs. Her lips met yours in a hungry kiss, her tongue smoothing over your bottom lip as she pushed her hips against your core. Your gasp gave her the opportunity to explore your mouth, the opportunity to start to devour you..
Her fingers worked on the buttons of your collared shirt, quickly exposing more of your skin to her. When she reached the last button, she pulled the garment off completely and took a moment to trace over your skin, her lips gently pulling away from yours as her hands met the skin of your torso. Her fingers lightly scratched against your sides before smoothing their way up to beneath your breasts. Her thumbs worked their way under your bra, her fingertips smoothing over your nipples and causing a whimper to leave your throat.
Before long, your bra was discarded as well, her lips making their way down against your skin and leaving deep marks against it. One of your hands tangled into her hair, disrupting the perfect curls with each tug of pleasure you gave her. Once her tongue smoothed over your right bud, any hopes of staying quiet had left, the need for her building within you even before she was present. She worked on both buds, forming both into hard peaks and giving them both attention before she was satisfied.
When she moved up to capture your lips again, her gaze met blown pupils swirling with lust. You crashed your lips into hers, one hand pulling her in from the back of her neck while the other rested behind you for balance. She was quick to move you into her arms, carrying you to your bed with ease.
She sat down on the edge, placing you onto her lap after getting rid of the rest of your clothes, though slight confusion came over you when your back was to her front.
It didn't take you long to realize why, when she rested one hand back against your throat while the other toyed with your breasts. Your eyes darkened at the sight in front of you - you welcoming her fingers into your mouth with a deep moan, your legs spread open and showing your glistening folds - for the mirror in front of you gave you the best view of what was would come.
"Mmm.. you like Mommy's fingers, hmm?" You felt your brain short circuit at the sound of her voice, at the sound of her title making its way through your ears and building a home inside your rapidly beating heart. You felt the heat course through you as your tongue swirled around her digits, and it showed in the reflection that it was getting increasingly harder for you to wait the more you got drunk on her.
She pulled her fingers from your mouth with a trail of your saliva attached to the ends of them, your breathing labored and filled with lust as you looked into her eyes through the reflection. She nipped the skin of your shoulder, while her other hand traced over the marks she had already painted against you. You were so focused on her lips, that you didn't notice her hand trail down to your core, until she teased against your slit, running her fingers through your folds and making your back arch as a gasp left your lips.
You threw your head back as her fingers began circling your clit, but it didn't last long as her other hand moved your gaze back to the mirror, making you watch her fingers get coated in your slick, how they toyed with the sensitive bud with just enough pressure to make you beg for more, how they circled your entrance soon after, making you clench around nothing.
"Ple- Please- mmn gods please.." Your voice was desperate, full of lust and the undying need to feel her inside of you. It wasn't something that didn't go unnoticed, two of her fingers thrusting into you soon after and making your hips buck into her touch.
"Watch the mirror, sweet girl.. You think you can do that for Mommy?" Her voice took over your senses and felt as though it was consuming you whole. It rang out like a low, velvety rumble with promises of more as each one of her hot breaths trailed against your skin.
Fuck..
"Yes- mm~ yes.." Your half-lidded eyes turned back to the reflection, your breasts rising and falling with each of your heavy breaths as more and more pleasure ran through your body. You watched as she thrusted in and out of you, her fingers curling in just the right spot to have moans flooding out from your mouth and into the dark evening.
"Such a good girl for me.. Taking Mommy's fingers so well.. Oh, look at you.." You could tell with how dark her eyes got, how husky her voice was that this was doing something to her as well. Your body at her mercy as she brought moan after moan to escape your lips. "Good girl.."
Each of her thrusts grew rougher, quicker in pace, and your thighs began to tremble with your impending orgasm. You did your best to watch the way her fingers fucked into you, disappearing with pleasure and watching them come all the way out again, only for the motion to repeat over and over.
Her fingers curled with precision, her other hand toying with your nipples and sending your body rushing towards a peak. You clenched around her fingers hard with each thrust, loving how they felt inside of you. It was all consuming, building up the coil in your abdomen until your peak crashed into you, wrecking through your body as her ministrations didn't stop.
Your body shook with pleasure, taking every new thrust she gave you as you turned into putty in her arms.. but you couldn't help but want.. crave.. need more.. And it seemed as though she had the same thoughts.
The sight of you coming undone in front of her was too much to bare, her own heat building itself up in her body and causing her desire for you to push itself forward. She shifted you onto the mattress, watching as she discarded her clothes after licking her fingers clean. The sight made a moan escape your lips, your own cum disappearing from the actions of her tongue and her pale skin becoming completely exposed to you made your mouth water.
She settled herself between your legs and you couldn't help but pull her down, crashing your lips into hers for an all consuming kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue. Your tongues danced together as you both nearly begged to be impossibly closer.
You pulled away, your lips centimeters away from hers. Your voice was a whisper, but translated so much urgency, so much desire that you knew she would fold when the words left your lips. "Please, Mommy.. I need you.."
Any resolve that Larissa had left faded as you watched her eyes grow impossibly darker, swirling with a hunger that was near insatiable. A growl left her throat before her lips were on yours again, though the kiss didn't last long, a gasp leaving your lips as you felt her hard member press against your core.
You immediately rolled your hips against her, earning a broken moan from the tall blonde. She moved to position herself, then slowly pushed into your entrance. Loud, unadulterated groans left you both as she pushed herself deeper and deeper into you, the stretch quickly becoming a delicious addiction.
As she started to move, it was as though all that existed was her. Each breath you took filled your lungs with her perfume, quickly making you intoxicated and full of her. Each thrust rocked your body with a deep hunger, the sound of your skin slapping together and your moans filling the room only seemed to serve you pleasure in tenfold.
"Please, please, please- I-I need-" A moan tearing through your throat had cut off your next words, her pace growing faster with each beg you were able to shoot out. Each thrust took you to new heights as she pulled nearly all the way out of you before pushing back in all the way.
"You feel so good.. Look at you taking me so well.." Her breathing was labored, her words paired with moans as her own pleasure was building itself up. Your peaks were close, her nails digging into your hips to leave crescent marks there, both of your moans growing louder.
Your mind grew hazy with the feeling of her so deep inside you, the pleasure building the coil up again as a chase towards euphoria. With a few more thrusts, you came hard, your body shuddering as you clenched around her. Her actions only continued as she chased her own high, soon letting out a deep, loud moan and filling you up, just moments later.
Your heavy breaths filled the room, your skin coated in a layer of sweat as you both focused on coming down from your highs.
She shuffled and moved to lay next to you, pulling you into her arms and tracing invisible patterns along your back. After your breathing settled, you slowly opened your eyes to meet deep sapphire ones, a smile coming to both of your lips as only love was reflected back at you.
You shuffled closer, burying your head in the crook of her neck to place soft kisses against her neck and jawline before resting completely against your lover. Your hands found their home against her skin, and the darkness of night mixed with the comfort of your lover made sleep an easy world for the both of you to slip into.
~~
✧・.☽˚。・゚✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧・゚。˚☾.・✧
𝐚/𝐧: IMMMMM BACCCCCKK!!!!
YO IM ACTUALLY SO SORRY I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG- the traveling got to me, and then finals season started, and then more traveling and a lot of other life things happened !!
BUT IM BACK AAHAHHAHHHH
this genuinely felt so good to write because i haven't even touched my writing in so long other that organizing everything in my notes to look better lmao
i know you all understand, and i couldnt be more grateful for that fact
here you go anon :,,,,))) im sosososo sorry for how long this took like holy fuck- i hope you enjoyed it
xx,
~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰
✧・.☽˚。・゚✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧・゚。˚☾.・✧
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)
as always, feel free to ask to be added <3
@autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @kimiinou @ladybathoryy
✧・.☽˚。・゚✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧・゚。˚☾.・✧
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adrinktostopyourthirst · 11 months
Note
How do you think Bucky would react to the reader admitting that she has a think for his metal arm?
I feel like he would be cocky about it
Oh, you see. Bucky Barnes is by no means a stupid man. At all…
Being trained as an assassin with quite a sensitive core, he knows which traits work for and against him. Yes, the army taught him plenty and Hydra taught him more. How to use weapons; how to properly use each and every one of them, to sharp shoot and count his ammo while he’s at it. How to abuse technology; how to hack into anything, photoshop a new reality and if he really had to, completely disable a traffic system and lay a country down flat.
But lying, manipulating and intimidating – that he learned on his own. Out of pure necessity. He knows what tone of voice will elicit which response, knows body language to a fault, knows how to ask which question to get the information he needs (or simply just wants) and how to stay quiet until the other person has dug themselves their own fucking grave. He knows how to use himself as his most lethal weapon and has had to.
So he knows damn well what his arm does to people. Yes, he can make it seem dangerous and intimidating. Knows exactly how to make people fear that arm. However, he certainly knows how to work it to his benefit. People’s unashamed curiosity with his arm and… Well, there have been plenty of men and women eyeing the appendage with a little too much interest. Bucky knows his sexuality well and the fluidity within it.
You are no exception. He catches you looking at his arm the same way he catches you looking at his lips. With the same hunger. Catches your heating face, too. Though he wouldn’t be the insufferable, broody, quiet man if he called you out on it instantly. Oh no. If anything, Bucky is a relentless tease, who doesn’t like it when people can’t ask for what they want or need.
When you started fooling around with him, you were already overwhelmed plenty by the unimaginable possibilities with him. Because he is a God. He knows his body perfectly and knows how to put it to good use. On top of that, it feels destructive, the way he can listen to your body and figure it out in a matter of minutes. He’s not only trained – he’s intuitive.
He had gone relatively easy on you in the beginning, only urging you a few times to verbally communicate to him what it was exactly that you were whining for. “Come on, baby,” he’d whispered in your ear with his flesh fingers slowly pulling out of you. “Can’t make you come if you don’t ask me to.”
He has melted your stubborn persona down to a begging, pleading, whimpering core more times than you can count. Relentless with his teasing, and sometimes going as far as to claim that he is a soldier after all, he ‘only takes orders’. Which is something you’ll get back to another time.
Right now though, you have reached your limit. It has been weeks of Bucky teasing something you cannot get yourself to admit. His metal arm. You want him to choke you with it, finger you with it, pull your hair with it– fuck it, you want to suck on his metal fingers until his jeans pop open at the sight.
And it is like he knows (because of course he fucking knows), because all he will do is stroke his fingers lightly over your pulse. Or brush the cold metal over your folds when he admires his next meal. He’s slid the hand into your hair, only to slide it down your back again without twisting his fist into your locks.
Prick.
“What has got you so worked up?” he asks when you writhe in the sheets uncomfortably. His metal fingers tease the apex of your thighs, mindless shapes burning into your skin. Your breathing is heavy and no amount of orgasms in the world could settle this need for that hand.
You bite your lip to keep from blurting out. Maybe it started with you being a bit shy and apprehensive about it, but honestly, now you’re just pissed. Weeks. Weeks he has been torturing you with absolutely fucking nothing at all.
“Bucky,” you breathe, exasperated.
“What, darling?”
You want to fucking scream at him. Honestly, you might.
Taking a deep breath, you swallow your frustrations and open your mouth to say something. But it is his metal, middle finger that dips into your dripping core that has you stutter on your breath. Yet it’s gone before you can moan out your relief.
“Fuck,” you rasp and swallow thickly.
“Hm?” he hums innocently and you want to throttle him.
“Do– ” you swallow again, ”Do that again…”
He forces a confused frown on his face and moves his flesh hand to your cunt, pushing in his middle finger. His flesh middle finger.
You squirm again.
“Bucky,” you grit out through your teeth, jaw clenching.
Suddenly, he’s there, his face inches from yours. Lips brushing your cheek and warm breath fanning your skin.
“Ask for it, baby,” he whispers, refraining from kissing your flushed skin. “Ask for what you want.”
You feel like you’re a child being told off and huff out your frustrations, making Bucky bite back a smile. Silence drags on and on and on. You try desperately to get your scrambled brain in order, especially since his orders – his voice – is another weakness of yours.
“Bucky, please…”
“Please what?”
“I want– ” you pause, quieting your pride like pinching out a candle, “I want your hand.”
“Say it,” he orders, waiting for the elaboration he knows is coming.
“The metal hand, Bucky,” you mutter breathlessly. “Finger me with your metal hand and I will do anything for you.”
Oh, and it is everything Bucky can do to keep his eyes from rolling back at the sound of those words, of that need in your voice. He might be a bit of a sadist, mentally rewarding himself for teasing you to the point of ordering your needs so sweetly. And he might be a secret sub for wanting to drop everything he is to give it to you the instant you ask for it.
His metal fingers are back at your cunt. Playing. Teasing. “Anything, huh?”
You can only let out a strangled whimper, your sweaty back arching when he brushes your clit. Bucky dips down again, brushing a soft kiss right below your ear that triggers a wave of goosebumps over your skin. “I only need you to do one thing for me. I’ll give it to you, I promise.”
You almost sigh in relief, until you realise who you’re dealing with. And you grit your teeth to the point of grinding them to dust, the metal fingers playing with you driving you to the brink of absolute insanity and dangling your release in front of you like chocolate.
“What,” you bite out. “What do I do.”
Bucky smirks and pushes two metal fingers into you, curling them into your spot with so much precision, you see only white.
“Come.”
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strawbeerossi · 11 months
Text
Practice Makes Perfect
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18+ Content. Minors DNI.
Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Spencer insists on helping reader perfect the party trick that she was trying to master when he came over. This time, there is a twist to it.
Content Warning: Coarse language, porn with little plot, restraints, soft dom Spencer, sub reader, teasing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), facesitting, spitting, hair pulling, degradation (use of whore and slut), pretty mild breeding kink, unprotected vaginal sex, pretty entertaining ending.
Word count: 2.6K
Part one
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The words had Y/N taken aback when Spencer mentioned it being her turn to wear the metal cuffs if they were to go again.
“Don’t look shocked. I mean, this is your trick, right? We gotta make sure that you get it down for Rossi’s next dinner party.” He explained as he let his arms cross.
God dammit, he looked good while pleading his case, the way his tousled hair was falling over his face, the way the light shine of sweat radiated off his body. He looked delectable.
“Fine. Only for the greater good of me learning this trick though.” She spoke, as if she wasn’t already clenching her thighs together from the sheer thought of being restrained, being able to be used at Spencer’s heart's content. The way he lit up at her agreeing to the idea was enough to make her head spin.
“First thing's first though..” He frowned, eyeing her up and down before his fingers were working fast to pull her shirt over her head, mouth practically watering at the sight of her bare chest, his hands coming up her hips before he was resting them just below her breasts.
The way he was ogling her body was enough to make Y/N’s face turn a light shade of pink. He’d just watched his cock plunge in and out of her pussy while she was focused on riding him, yet she was nervous over him seeing her naked torso. 
Sounded about right.
“Gonna put them on you again,” The male’s voice brought her out of her thoughts as her head nodded slowly. “Okay.” She spoke, watching him spin the cuffs around his finger while awaiting her verbal consent to being bound. 
He made her stand up so it would be easier, walking behind her as one hand ran down the smooth flesh of Y/N’s arm. He brought her wrists together before the cool metal was on her skin, the sound of the restraints closing around her wrists filling the quiet room.
Y/N’s heart was beating fast, so hard that she feared it would burst from her chest. He surprised her the moment she was being pushed forward, bent over the bed while she yelped in surprise. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt her, yet she wasn’t expecting to be shoved down similarly that an unsub would be pushed down against the table when being detained at the scene.
The feeling of his large hands running down her back had goosebumps spreading across her skin, her eyes closing as her cheek rested against the unkempt sheets and duvet from their previous activity.
The tender approach was enough to relax her.
It was the sharp smack to her ass that jolted her back to reality.
“You look like such a whore, bent over your bed for me while you have no power in the situation.” He spoke while reaching over on her bedside table, grabbing a paperclip before unravelling it and placing it in her dominant hand. 
“You aren’t cumming until you take them off.” Spencer spoke, a boost of confidence washing over him as his hand was moving to slick back his messy hair that was falling in his face. “I suggest you get to it,” He snickered softly, hands running down her hips before coming down to her ass.
Y/N had to admit that this sudden burst of confidence was wildly sexy coming from the usually awkward and downright submissive Dr. Spencer Reid that she knew from work. The man who she just had whimpering and restrained in her bed was reducing her to a puddle of goo.
While her hand was shaking and trying to get the paperclip in the keyhole of the handcuffs, Spencer was thoroughly enjoying himself for a moment watching her actually try to free herself. 
His hands pushed her asscheeks apart, a low groan leaving his lips as he got a full view of her beautiful, wet, pink pussy. It was swollen, used from before and Spencer could feel his cock hardening at the residue of his cum that was painting the back of her inner thighs. “You know, statistically, 20% of sexual partners get pregnant within the first time they have sex?” He asked, that 187 IQ appearing when he wasn’t being distracted by his cock being sucked. 
“Now, that means that technically, you could already be at risk of pregnancy from the first time?” His fingers were coming down to her labia, now pushing the lips apart before his thumb found its way to her clit. 
The thought of her being pregnant with his baby elicited an animalistic growl from Spencer. “You’re really wet from the thought of that?” He asked, a smirk on his face as her slick wasn’t unnoticed against his fingers. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to pump you full of my cum and paint that pretty uterus? Have you swollen with a baby? Fuck.” His words were already influencing himself.
“Everyone would know you like being used as a cocksleeve and being desperate for all the cum you can milk out of me.” The explicit nature of his words had Y/N letting out a moan, her head fully in the clouds as her hips were rocking against his hand, desperate to get more than his thumb on her clit. 
“You look like a desperate slut, you need more?” He asked, thumb putting pressure on her clit and eliciting another cry. That was when he was letting his middle finger run over her slit, collecting the slick of arousal from her puffy cunt. 
There were no words shared between the two, instead he was letting his finger delve into her tight heat, making the woman below him moan out as her pussy was clenching around his finger.
The feeling of her walls closing around his finger and trying to pull him in for more made the man groan lowly, curling his finger just to get a reaction, which the muffled moan against the sheets was enough encouragement to add a second finger.
The long digits were nestled knuckle deep inside the inviting warmth, watching as Y/N attempted to fuck herself against his fingers. “You’ve stopped trying to get the cuffs off.” He pointed out the obvious, almost like an indirect order for her to continue trying or he would stop his movements.
This stupid fucking trick idea would be the end of her, her fingers clenching around the paperclip while her shaking hand was in search of the keyhole, finding it this time.
Spencer was satisfied, granting her the gift of his fingers scissoring her open as they was fucking her at a fast pace, his fingertips brushing against the spongy button inside of her that had her crying and begging for more. 
His fingers just weren’t cutting it anymore.
“Spence please, need more.” Her words were muffled into the mattress, almost inaudible. To fix that problem though, one of the male’s wrists was tangling in her hair before he roughly tugged her hair towards, lifting her head up.
“Say it one more time. It’s rude to mumble.” 
“P-Please. More.” She choked out.
“That’s more like it.”
His fingers were being pulled from her soaked cunt, chuckling as he looked over his glistening fingers, his hand still in her hair as he tugged her head up once more, the covered fingers going to her lips. He was pleasantly surprised whenever she was letting her lips close over the digits, her tongue cleaning her arousal off of his fingers.
“Good to see that the whore knows what someone wants.” He mused while letting her hair go as he was pulling his fingers from her mouth, watching as a string of saliva came with them. He’d just gotten started, and she already looked blissfully fucked out.
“More?” He asked, watching as the woman’s head was nodding quickly, feeling the strong grasp on her hips while he was moving her to sit on her knees for a moment, getting comfortable on the bed as he was lying on his back. “Come here.” He spoke, watching as she was doing her best to shuffle over on her knees. 
She started by straddling his waist, though the male was shaking his head. “Farther.” He chuckled, this time gesturing to his face while Y/N’s mouth was agape. “Will be easier for you to get the cuffs off while sitting up.” He pointed out, his hands hooking around her thighs as soon as she was quickly making her way up his body.
 “W-wait. What if you can’t suffocate? I don’t wanna end up killing you.” She spoke as she could feel his strong arms tug her body down, pressing a kiss to her clit. 
“What a way to go out.” He commented, causing the two to let out a giggle before his tongue was licking over her clit. “Don’t worry, I can easily move you if I need to.” He assured her in a moment of seriousness. 
Their words were soon replaced by the sound of moans as Spencer’s tongue was delving into her dripping pussy with no warning, the woman working on those damn handcuffs, which were a pain in her ass at this point.
She’d never do something dumb like that again. She’d just learn how to do a backflip or something as a trick to impress the entire team.
He had gotten greedy, his hands clutching tightly to her thighs as he was drinking all the arousal he could, eyes fluttered shut as he groaned lowly against her cunt. 
His cock was rock hard at this point, his tip red and angry as beads of precum were pooling. It was throbbing, twitching at the moans that were falling from her lips coupled with the sweet, intoxicating taste that was on his tongue. Truthfully, he could probably cum untouched from this.
However, the only thing that stopped him was the feeling of metal hitting his stomach along with a little cheer.
She got the fucking handcuffs off. 
Y/N looked just as surprised as the two were now making eye contact. “You actually did it.” Spencer spoke, shock dripping from his tone. “I did it!” She grinned, her fingers now coming down to tangle in his hair as she was raising an eyebrow. “You said that I could cum when I got them off. Get back to it.”
With a soft laugh, Spencer was nodding. “Yes, ma’am.” He obliged, now diving right back in as if he were a man starved.
With freedom to grab anything to support herself, her hands were coming to grip the headboard while she let her hips roll against his face, head tilting forward as a moan left her lips while was riding his face. At the position they were in, his nose was brushing against her clit with each roll of her lips.
The feeling of her thighs clenching around his head and the feeling of the fluttering in her pussy, Spencer knew she was ready to make a mess of his face. 
With cries and moans of his name filling the room, it wasn’t long until she was soaking his face, which the male was licking up everything he could to avoid wasting even a drop of cum that she’d graced him with.
“Fuck.” 
This was Spencer’s breaking point, now lifting her from his face before he was tossing her on her back, the woman letting out a yelp of surprise before watching as the clumsy male was nearly falling off the bed while pushing himself up. 
“Are we gonna increase our odds of me being pregnant?” She probably meant it to be a joke but dear god, Spencer wanted to cum right then and there. “You better watch your mouth,” He warned with a chuckle, hand coming between them to give his cock a few tugs for relief before letting his tip tease her slit. 
“Hey, I’m not against the idea! I think you should definitely give me a little genius baby.” She mused, voice shaky as he was tapping his cock against her pussy, her legs spreading more. 
“You are gonna be the death of me, fuck.” He groaned, their lips smearing against one another's as he was tired of teasing, cock pushing inside of her. There were muffled moans against each other’s lips, one of his hands on her hip while the other was resting on either side of her head.
As he was bottoming out inside of her, Y/N was pulling away to let her head loll back as her arms were loosely around his shoulders. It was always the skinny, nerdy guys who were well endowed, enough to have anyone’s head spin with little movement.
Spencer’s thrusts started slow, an easement for both of them. There was soft kisses shared, the two whispering and even laughing softly together over whatever they discussed. It was sweet, soft.
Until Spencer slammed into her and cause her body to bounce upon impact. “Fuck, Dr. Reid, calm down. You’re gonna make me hit my head on the headboard.” She squeaked, though the way he was smiling and bracing herself while grasping his shoulders was an open invitation.
It wasn't long until the room was filled with the sinful sounds of his cock slamming into her, along with the sounds of the bed squeaking like crazy and both of their moans. Thank god the apartment to the right of her was empty, cause with the way her headboard was banging against the wall, she’d have a million complaints.
The woman to the left of her would have plenty of noise complaints for her though.
“Fuck- I’m gonna-” Her nails were dragging down Spencer’s back, head thrown back as her eyes were screwed shut. The warning came seconds before her walls were spasming around his cock, her body shaking from the sensitivity as Spencer’s rough thrusts were growing sloppy. 
Spencer was reduced to a groaning, moaning mess as his cock twitched inside her clenched pussy before he was approaching his peak, his spent spilling inside of Y/N as his head was falling on her shoulder, his hips slowing their thrusts. 
***
“How the hell did you do that?” Emily asked, eyes widened with amusement as Y/N dropped the handcuffs to the ground while she smirked triumphantly. “A girl never reveals her secrets.” She spoke.
Penelope was already letting all those conspiracy theories wrack up in her brain. “Do it again! Let me close them this time because I know you have to be cheating somehow.” The bubbly blonde spoke while quickly grabbing the metal cuffs before hooking them just a bit tighter around Y/N’s back.
“I’m telling you, I can get out of these.” She continued, using the paperclip in her hand. It took her a max of ten seconds to get them unlocked, the sound of metal hitting the floor soon after.
“You need to teach me how to do that.” Emily spoke again, now picking up the metal while placing the once dreaded object on Y/N’s desk. 
“As impressive as it is, I feel like I have to give a warning that the first time any of you are trying to do a trick like that and you get stuck, you’re to come to work like that as a punishment.” Aaron spoke from where he stood outside of his office door.
“How did you even learn to do that, mama?” Derek was asking, an eyebrow raised as he leaned back against the desk behind him.
Spencer was already going red, thankfully everyone too focused on Y/N to notice, even when the two shared a knowing glance. 
“Practice makes perfect!”
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