â cut down the altar. [eyeless jack x male!reader]
a/n: requested by BlueFox on quotev !! decided to just write a fic of an idea i posted on my old tumblr blog a while ago so. it's that but. fleshed out a bit more. and with a male reader. crossposted on both quotev and ao3, ofc ofc.
premise: your friend was just trying to help you relax, and instead, you almost get sacrificed by a cult.
wc: 4.3k
warnings: male!reader, blood, murder, mild gore, cannibalism, ritual sacrifice, attempted murder against reader, a lot of non-consensual touching, biting, licking.
When you first enrolled in the local college in your town, you really weren't expecting to have a crazy time there.
A few three-day all-nighters, a shitload of energy drinks, and a weekly breakdown? Definitely. Friends who were interested in performing seances and rituals? Absolutely not. That sort of stuff was taboo in your town, with many of the older locals frowning and cursing anyone who even mentions that sort of stuff.
Not without reason, of course.
Forty years ago, during the height of the satanic panic, a ritual had been performed somewhere in the forest surrounding the town that resulted in a local college student's disappearance and the murder of the ritual performers. Apparently, they were part of a cult or something.
It was a really big story, and it still haunts the town even after so many years. Though nowadays people treat it more as an urban legend rather than a fact.
You weren't entirely sure about the little details. You never cared much for those kinds of stories and really just wanted to focus on your studies. You had promised your parents you'd become a doctor, after all. Not exactly your dream job, but⌠you had to make them proud.
The seance-loving friend of yours, Iris, on the other hand? Oh, she loved stories like this. What little you do know about the occult, urban legends, and the like is because of her, and her inability to not rant about whatever topic catches her interest while she's deep diving into it. She's so big into those kinds of topics that she's dragged you into watching her perform stupid seances.
You refused to participate in any of them. While you didn't necessarily believe in the paranormal, or witchcraft, or any sort of mythological thing, it still wasn't something you wanted to mess with. It always left a sick feeling in your stomach, and you just preferred to avoid it. You only watched her do her little rituals because you didn't want her doing anything stupid.
And Iris never tried pressuring you into partaking. She asked once, the very first time she performed a seance after you'd become her friend. When you said no, she never asked again.
You adore Iris. She's your best friend. Your only friend, if we're being honest. You never really had time to make any back when you were younger, too busy pushing yourself in your studies to earn a college scholarship. She was the first friend you made after enrolling here. It's funny, considering she's the total opposite of you.
The only thing you didn't like about her? Her friends.
Most of them were okay, in a⌠always stoned type of way. But some were big in the occult, like her, who are just⌠weird.
Jessie is one of them.
You don't like Jessie. He's creepy. Not in a 'weird goth kid who loves demons and gore movies' kind of way, but a 'cuts himself and says he's offering his blood to the dark lord Zalgo' kind of way. You don't know who this Zalgo being is, and you refuse to ask.
He also stares too much. At you, specifically. He looks at you like you're a piece of meat waiting to be eaten, and you cannot stand being around him.
Whenever Iris asks you to go out somewhere, you always have to ask if he'll be joining the two of you, because you just can't be near him.
For what it's worth, Iris does seem aware of his odd behavior towards you. She's called him out on it a few times, but it's done little to help. You're not even sure why she's friends with him; all he does is talk about doom and gloom. He's the biggest nihilist you've ever seen, and he makes it everyone's problem.
"He's a real sweetheart once you get to know him!" Iris had said when you asked her about it, "I don't know why he's so weird with you. I've tried asking, and he just gets this far-off look goin' on."
It's⌠fine. As fine as it can be.
He's not around often, so you don't have to deal with him. According to Iris, he caught some kind of cold, so he's been stuck in his dorm these past few days. It's wrong of you to think, but you hope that he stays sick for the rest of the semester.
Presently, you sat in your dorm at your desk, struggling to focus on the assignment you were supposed to be writing. It was due at the end of the week, and for some reason, you felt restless. You couldn't focus on anything, no matter what you did. ASMR? Didn't work. Ambient music? You kept skipping every song in your playlist. It was frustrating, because you usually didn't struggle like this.
It was one of the few things about college that was easy. You did your work without any mental fatigue. But it seems that blessing was no longer around, judging from the way it was like pulling teeth just to write a short sentence.
You groan, head falling forward and thumping against the desk. You hear your door open, and you glance up just enough to see Iris. She'd been going on and on about this party happening in the woods, and she'd been pestering you to attend it. Something about making friends and living a little, or whatever.
You'd yet to give her a solid answer on whether or not you were going to go, but it looks like you had to give her one now.
She looks at you, mildly amused, leaning against the frame of the door with her arms crossed, "SoooâŚ" She trails off, head cocking to the side a bit as she smiles, "Is it safe to assume that you're gonna go to the party?"
The sheer sound of careful victory in her words has you rolling your eyes just a bit, because you want to say no. This assignment needed to get done before the end of the week, and you couldn't afford any distractions. But⌠seeing as you couldn't focus⌠maybe some fresh air will do you some good.
Just an hour. A single hour, and you'll come back to your dorm and spend the rest of the night writing. That should be enough time to hopefully get yourself out of whatever mental block you were dealing with, right? Right. It's with great hesitancy that you cave, and tell Iris you'll go to this party she's been so excited over.
And she was thrilled, letting out a quick, 'yay!' before tugging you out of your seat. She barely gave you any time to put on your shoes and grab your jacket, tugging you out of your dorm while going on and on about how much fun you two were going to have. You didn't think you'd have that much fun, but Iris always is the life of the party, so⌠who knows? Maybe you will.
The drive to the party was filled with Iris going on and on about random things. Her classes, her boyfriends (yes, plural. She bagged two boyfriends, somehow), the weird shit she always seems to end up in.
"Yeah, have I told you about the time this weird clown guy tried killing my baby cousin?"
You just⌠try not to question how she ends up in these situations. As long as you don't get dragged into anything dangerous, you humor her stories.
By the time you two finally pulled up to the party, it was dark outside. The place was already crowded, a bonfire lit up to offer some light as music blared from a speaker, and people drank cheap alcohol while chatting with each other. Your typical college party that you'd expect to see in some shitty coming-of-age romance film.
If you ignore the stone slab right in the middle of the clearing. The same one apparently used in that sacrifice from the 80s. What a macabre place to hold a party.
Already, you could tell this party was going to suck the life out of you. Just from a quick scan of the people as you got out of Iris' truck, you couldn't recognize anybody. Maybe one of her friends dancing in the crowd, but you don't know their name.
Almost as if she could read your thoughts, Iris sighs, leaning against the hood of her truck as she looks at the party, "Yeah⌠honestly, it'd be way more lively if Jackson had been hosting, but he's busy. Next time he throws a party, trust that I'm gonna drag you there so you can see what a real party is like."
You're not really sure who Jackson is, but Iris doesn't give you a chance to ask any questions before she's grabbing your arms and pulling you along, heading to some dude handing out drinks. He's at a makeshift bar and everything, clearly dedicated to the bit.
Iris is more than happy to do all the talking, chatting away with anyone who'll speak to her, while you just awkwardly follow her around. Sure, you could use this as a chance to make new friends and put yourself out there, but⌠there's this weird feeling settling in your chest. Like you were being watched.
Already, you wanted nothing more than to leave.
Your gaze scans the crowd of people, hoping that maybe you'd be able to catch whoever was looking at you, but you couldn't see anybody even remotely looking in your general direction. Everybody was in their own little worlds, dancing to the music and chatting with friends.
"Hey," Iris' voice drags your attention away from the growing unease in your chest, her hand lightly grabbing your arm to tug you to the side, just enough that you could hear her over the awful music blaring through the shitty speakers, "Uh, I just got a text from my boyfriend, and he needs me to pick him up from a friend's place. Would you be okay with being alone? Just for twenty minutes, I swear."
And, to be honest, you wanted to tell Iris no. She dragged you out here; she should either stay with you the entire time or just take you home. But she seemed⌠concerned. It makes you wonder if maybe something had happened, and it would eat you alive if you kept her here because of your own selfish desire not to be alone.
With a sigh, you shoo her off, "But if you're gone for even a second longer than twenty, I'm going to ignore you for the rest of the semester." A lie, you'd never do that to her, but it has her pouting nonetheless.
"I'll be back before you even know I'm gone! Cross my heart, hope to die, needle in my eye." She responds, leaving you alone. It's more awkward being alone than it had been following her around like some dog, but you try your best to make yourself comfortable.
In twenty minutes, she'll be back, and you can have her take you back to the dorms. You seriously doubt anything is going to happen in these twenty minutes, it'll just be⌠painfully boring.
At least, you had hoped it would have been painfully boring. But the universe always seems to have fun messing with you, because not even two minutes after Iris' truck departed down the dirt path, an arm was thrown around your shoulder, and you were being pulled against someone.
"'Sup."
The familiar voice of Jessie hits you, and you physically recoil from the man, taking two steps away from him and wiping your shoulder just to rid yourself of the feeling of him touching you. He's wearing these weird robes, the kind you'd expect to see in some weird ceremony. Definitely not something you'd wear to a college party.
Had he been here the entire time? Did Iris know he was going to be here? Surely not, right? She knows how much you hate him, knows how uncomfortable you get when he's around. He must've been invited by someone else.
"I thought you were sick," You say, already looking around for some kind of way to get out of this conversation. The last time you had a conversation with Jessie that lasted longer than a minute, he tried convincing you to sell your soul to this Zalgo creature he worships so much. It's not the first time someone's tried converting you into believing some kind of religion, but he wasn't exactly respectful about your insistent denial.
Jessie makes this face when you pull away from him, something akin to annoyance, but it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, "I got better. Besides, what kind of host would I be if I didn't show up to my own party?"
Those words have you pausing.
This was his party? No wonder it sucked so much. He must've been the person you felt watching you, too. There's no way Iris knew anything about this, right? You hope she didn't, at least.
"Right, right," You absently murmur, eyes straining the treeline, hoping you'll see the headlights of Iris' truck soon. You're not entirely sure how much time has passed already, but it already feels like an eternity. With Jessie here, you're not sure if you want to wait the twenty minutes any longer, to be honest. You'd rather risk it and just walk your way back. It's dark, sure, but it shouldn't be that difficult to stick to the dirt path.
Just when you step away from him to do just that, Jessie's hand is catching your wrist and dragging you right back.
"Jesus, relax, would you?" Jessie has the audacity to sound annoyed, like you're the problem here, rolling his eyes, "The real party hasn't even begun yet, don't be such a buzzkill."
There were numerous things you wanted to say in response to that, none of which were kind, but Jessie didn't give you a chance to speak as he let go of your wrist in favor of cutting off the music, filling the area with nothing but silence. Unease settles in your chest, and you glance back to the treeline.
The forest is so quiet, even with people murmuring to themselves, wondering what was happening.
Jessie starts to speak, going on and on about that stupid urban legend about the cult sacrifice in the 80s. You never paid attention when he went on rambles about it, because it wasn't really something you wanted to hear about. Not to mention the fact he gets so⌠disturbingly passionate about it, like he's praising the alleged murder rather than condemning it.
You're not exactly sure why people treat the murders like an urban legend, when there were records of it actually happening, but you're not even sure why Jessie was bringing this up in the first place. This is a party, people came here to have fun and get drunk and high, not tell cheap ghost stories and kill the mood with doom and gloom.
"Forty years ago, a cult decided to perform a sacrifice at this altar," Jessie says, voice echoing in the silence as he rests his hands atop the stone altar in the center of the crowd.
He traced the stone as if it were something holy, and you could see something dark in his eyes when his gaze momentarily flickered over to you, "Something went wrong, though. The cult members were brutally murdered, their flesh eaten, and their organs missing. The sacrifice? Missing. Never seen again."
It felt like he was looking right through you, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood. Something isn't right.
You'll never really understand the way Jessie thinks, and you don't want to understand. All you want to do is go back to your dorm. You can't wait for Iris any longer.
Moving through the crowd, you can't help but notice there were⌠a lot more people than you had originally thought there'd been. A lot of them were wearing the same weird robes that Jessie wore, and that feeling of unease grew tenfold as you felt eyes on you.
"What better way to celebrate the anniversary of this tragedy than by sacrificing some blood for our fallen friends, right?" There's a smile on Jessie's face as he speaks these words, and a few people in the crowd look a bit uncomfortable, but far too many looked utterly enraptured by the bullshit he's speaking.
Suddenly, it's a lot harder to move through the crowd. You swear you feel some people even trying to force you back, but surely not, right?
"Any volunteers?" His voice echoes, gaze searching the crowd for only a second before he's smiling, "No? Guess I'll choose." Hands were on you before he even chose, and Jessie points directly at you, that smile on his face empty and not reaching his eyes, "Him."
You're being dragged before you can register what was happening, and no amount of fighting helps. You'd manage to fight one person off, and another takes their place. Some people looked on in horror, but they did nothing to stop what was happening. The stone of the slab digs into your back as you're restrained.
Ropes tie you down, digging into your skin until you're bleeding. Jessie stands over you, looking down at you. His hands are shaking as he pulls a ceremonial blade from his robe, but you knew it wasn't from fear or doubt. No, there's a sick excitement in his gaze, like he was finally getting what he wanted.
Someone holds a cloth down against your eyes, preventing you from seeing anything.
"Let go of me, you fucking freaks!" You yell, struggling against the binds. Your skin burns, and your heart races in your chest. You're going to die. You're going to be murdered by a bunch of cultists, apparently, and nobody was stepping in to try and help you.
You can feel the cool steel of the blade pressing against your throat, and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying. You weren't going to beg, no. Something told you that Jessie wanted that reaction from you, and you didn't want to give him that kind of satisfaction.
But you didn't want to die. Certainly not like this.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you feel a sharp sting in your neck. You were expecting your throat to be slit and for blood to pour from the wound.
But death never comes.
Instead, you hear something⌠wrong. Gurgling, followed by something wet and warm dripping down onto your skin.
The cloth falls from your eyes, but you keep them squeezed shut. Screaming starts to fill the silence, along with the sound of flesh tearing and people running. You remain tied to the altar, eyes screwed shut as you will for all of this to be one bad dream.
You don't know how long the chaos lasts. Logically, a few minutes at most. But it feels like an eternity before everything goes silent, save for your choked breaths. Your ears ring, straining to hear anything. The sound of leaves crunching fills the silence in just a few short seconds, the sound growing louder.
Something is approaching you.
You were almost tempted to hold your breath and pretend you had died from fear, or something of the sort, but you knew it wouldn't help any. The only thing you could do was hope that you didn't die, because what else could you possibly do?
There is a slight tug on the ropes binding you, and then they slip off you. You had to stop yourself from jerking up and running the moment you were free. You're glad you did, because not even a second after the ropes were gone, you felt something sharp pressing against your skin. It wasn't like the blade, no. It felt more like⌠nails.
Claws.
Your eyes open before you can think to stop them, and you're not entirely sure what you were expecting to see. Some kind of animal, maybe. A bear, or wolf, or⌠something.
Instead, you were met with someone who looked⌠human, save for the dark grey skin and empty eyes. Dark ink drips from the sockets, landing against your skin. There's blood dripping from his lips as well, like he'd just finished devouring something. The manâmonster?âtilts his head to the side a bit, as if sensing your eyes on him. Locs fall in his face just a bit from the motion, and you swallow.
He leans down, one clawed hand bracing the edge of the altar while the other is digging into your shoulder, keeping you held down. Your entire body tenses up, and you were waiting for some kind of pain.
Instead, he⌠sniffs you?
You can feel his breath against your skin, his nose brushing just beneath your jaw, before you feel something wet touching you. It takes you a moment to register that he's licking you. That's not the weirdest part, either. No, the weird partâaside from the situation as a wholeâwas the fact that you felt not one, not two, but three tongues against your skin.
The feeling of saliva replaces the blood on your skin, and your nails dig into the palms of your hands to keep yourself from doing anything stupid. You don't know who this is. You don't know what he is. But he killed everybody at the party in just a few short minutes. He saved your life, and you don't want to risk doing anything that'll make you his next victim.
So, you stayed as still as possible.
Even when you felt teeth sinking into your neck. You swallowed a pained cry, tears streaming down your face as you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to focus on anything other than the pain. You half expect him to just tear your throat out, but he doesn't. He pulls away and licks at the wound, a deep rumble coming from his chest.
If you weren't so out of it, you swear you'd think he's purring.
"Please don't kill me," You manage, your voice coming out in a choked whisper. Begging seemed so pointless, but you didn't know what else you could do. There were dead bodies all around you, and you were pinned to the altar you were going to be sacrificed on.
The sound of your voice has him pausing. For a moment, you wonder if maybe he couldn't understand what you said, but then he was pulling away from you completely. His hand left your shoulder, no longer keeping you trapped, "âŚYou're safe." He says, a growl in his words.
You don't respond.
He took two steps back, and you watch him approach one of the bodies on the ground as you slowly sit up.
Jessie.
The bastard, even with a gash in his throat, was somehow still alive. Choking on his own blood and weakly trying to crawl away, but alive.
The man approaches Jessie, squatting down next to him. For a moment, nothing happens. But then his hand comes up, and all you hear is a sharp crunch, followed by a choked gasp, before Jessie goes limp. You stare, but you're quick to look away when you realize his hand had torn open Jessie's chest, and he was holding something.
You have to swallow down the bile in your throat when you hear chewing, taking a few deep breaths before standing from the altar, relieved when your legs don't give out on you.
You should've left right then and there. He was distracted; it would've been easy to sneak off without him realizing it.
But⌠he did save your life, at the end of the day. You don't understand why. You don't want to know why. You just need to say a quick 'thank you', and then you can leave.
"Thank you." You force the words out, gaze glued to the ground, trying desperately not to look at any of the bodies surrounding you.
You don't get a response, but you can hear him standing straight, the leaves beneath him crunching as he approaches you. There's a heart held in his hands, and you gaze snaps up just to avoid looking at it. He doesn't have eyes, but you can feel him staring at you.
"I'm⌠gonna leave now." You mutter, taking a few steps away from him, nearly tripping on one of the bodies. You can feel him watching you, and his silence is heavy. You don't know what he's thinking, and that somehow scares you more than anything else.
You don't think he'll say anything, but just as you were about to hurry down the dirt road back to the main road, you hear him speak a quiet, "See you soon."
Those three words send a chill down your spine, and you don't dare to look back. You just rush down the dirt road until nothing but trees and darkness surround you. You don't hear him following you, thankfully.
And like some sick and twisted joke, you see headlights right as you reach the beginning of the dirt road. The familiar sound of Iris' truck fills the silence, and she's quick to stop the truck as the headlights shine on you.
The driver's door opens, and you hear her calling out your name, concern lacing her voice as she approaches you, "What happened?!"
Twenty minutes.
In just twenty short minutes, your life was turned upside down.
You're not even sure what to say. You probably looked as much of a mess as you felt, with blood staining your skin and clothes, and a bite mark on your neck. You just shake your head, "âŚTake me back to the dorms. Please."
It didn't matter. You had an assignment you had to finish.
â â â â â ĚÍĄâ â Promises, promises. Johnny Storm
summary. out of desperation you make a deal with the literal fiery devil. letâs see if you can keep up your end of the bargain.
tags. johnny storm is ooc (based off my interpretation of him in the game & little things i remember from the movies). reader is a healer. mentions of usual game mechanics. not proofread. smut. porn with little plot. face seating. oral sex (fem. recieving). reader is chubby/curvy & black girl coded (all are free to read ofc). attempts dirty talk. like one pet name. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. entire plot is inspired by that one luna snow & human torch comic by; CEO OF MILFS on twitter.
authorâs note. trying to get back into tumblr writing with marvel rivals, iâm sorry for being so mia everyone. i hope you enjoy and as always please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes.
Iâm tired.. The statement was simple running through your mind, jogging closely behind a salivating Venom and your other teammates. Being a hero was a daunting job, one you didnât regretâ but daunting nonetheless. And having to use your abilities to heal wounds was even harder; the concentration that went into itâ nevermind the fact some people were just so demanding at times.
A heavy sigh escaped you, hands caressing the air to heal Venom, hearing his tongue-filled thank you shortly after. The time was ticking, only about a minute and thirty seconds left, with zero progress to the last objective. Your teammates were dropping like flies and it seemed like they took even longer to come back from recovering.
Between the match looking quite bleak and the tiredness running through your body, you wanted nothing more but to find a corner and hide; awaiting that familiar feminine voice to tell you, the team had lost.
Caught up in your thoughts, you jumped in surprise the moment something slammed into the wall beside you; concrete crumbling from the impact. You spun around, gasping as a familiar silhouette came into view.
âJohnny!â His name escaped your lips urgently, rushing over and stepping carefully over the debris. Your eyes scanned his body, noting the fact his skin was back to normal as he laid amongst the rubble. A hiss escaped, lowering to your knees and gently scooping the man closer.
You couldnât deny the level of affection you held for the infamous Human Torch. Despite his frat boyish and overly flirty ways, you knew there was a good heart underneath all that flame.
Not that you would ever admit it anyway.
âI got you, Johnny.â You mummured, hand rising right above him and healing him, the pink glow covering his body like a comforting blanket. You watched happily as his eyebrows undid from his pained crease, watching his own gaze focus on your face.
A boyish grin crossed his features, âHey, thanksâŚâ He spoke, albeit strained. Though soon he coughed, a hand rising to cover his lips. âIâI think you missed a spot with your healing.
Your eyebrows pressed close, eyes scanning up and down his body for a moment. âWhere?â
Like the overgrown child he was, Johnny pointed right to his lips, even making an effort to pucker them in your direction. You gave a loud groan, basically tossing him off you and back into the rubble where pained laughter escaped him.
âBe serious for once, weâre about to lose.â You huffed, slowly dragging your body to standing whilst patting your bodysuit free of rocks and debris. You glanced down at your watch spotting the fact you had forty seconds left. Forty, and your teammates progress wasnât far at all.
You gritted your teeth, glancing down at Johnny who seemed all too comfy on a bed of rocks.
âJohnnyâ come on! We have to help the others.â
Johnny gave an unenthused expression, tucking his hands behind his head. âLet the time run out, we canât do much like this anyway.â
You crossed your arms, struggling not to strangle him right then and there. âI thought the Fantastic Four always fought to the end. I wonder what Reed would think of this..â
The threat went unnoticed, Johnny seemingly tuning you out. Now with only twenty seconds left, it seemed the anxiety began to stir within you, debating on whether to leave him behind and go back to your team.
It would be best, even without some extra firepower you going back to healing would help expeditiously.
Still..
With nothing left to lose, and clenched fists, you stared down at the man with a serious expression. One he caught quickly.
âWhaââ
âIf you get up right now, help, and we somehow win this; Iâll sit on your face for however long you want.â
All was silent for a moment, Johnny slowly removing his hands from behind his head, staring at you with an unreadable expression. Suddenly, the air around you was getting hotâ way too hot.
A loud flame on! thundered from Johnnyâs throat, skin coated in flame as he blasted from the debris and back to the fighting area. You didnât actually expect that to work, at all. You expected some laughter and him continuing to ride the time out. Not the sudden burst of energy.
But you couldnât complain.
You chased close behind, hands rising to heal your teammates as they came into view. Sweat trickled down your body, eyes flickering between the time and the objective. It was reaching overtime, it growing closer and closerâ more stressful as the seconds passed.
Your team was pushing though, whether with the extra fire or not you couldnât tellâ nor was it a main concern right now. You just needed to keep healing, even when your eyes grew blurry and body ached; you had to keep healing.
Flame began to consume your opponents, their numbers dwindling as you pushed and pushed, the seconds draining but oh so fulfilling.
Finally you made it , the objective clearing as a triumphant you win! echoed around you.
As this reality set you couldnât help but smile, feeling your body relax slowly. Only to tense the moment you remembered.
You made a promise. And unfortunately for you. Johnny didnât seem like the type to forget those so easily.
. . .
You dragged the towel along your body, drying your skin completely whilst standing in the middle of your bedroom. After the match you made your way quickly to your quarters, far too excited to wash off the sweat and grime that accumulated from the battle. The water was way too soothing, you nearly extending your shower but not wishing for your skin to get pruny.
With a heavy sigh you placed your towel off to the side, sliding on some panties first before going for your night gown; a pale pink cami style night gown that hung at your ankles, silky and soft against your fresh skin.
You lowered to your bed, legs crossed as you slid some shea butter along them. Focused on smoothing the lotion evenly, you jumped the moment someone knocked on your door, eyebrows creasing in slight concern.
It was getting late, and you werenât exactly prepared for guests nor were you in the mood to hold any ounce of conversation.
But with another knock you were rising, lips curling into a grimace as you waltzed over to the door in lazy strides. Soon enough you were infront of it, fingers locking around the knob as you turned and pulled, opening the door to reveal the one and only Johnny Storm.
He was dressed in a simple pair of sweatpants and a black tshirt, hair tousled yet still neat enough. Johnnyâs gaze traced your attire, smiling to himself.
âNice gown.â
You rolled your eyes, arms crossing. âWhat do you want, Johnny? I wanna some sleep after today.â
The man wore a disgruntled expression and despite your best efforts â which really werenât any â he crept into your room, busying himself with picking up some random knick knack upon your vanity.
âSo soon? What about your promise?â
You rose a single eyebrow, trying to make sense of what he said. Silently you stood, arms crossed and staring straight ahead in thoughtâ Johnny waiting ever so patiently, his own gaze settled on your form.
Finally it hit you, like a train, all at onceâ the stupid promise you made in the heat of battle.
You began to sputter, instinctively shutting the door behind you in fear of what someone might hear;
âArâare you seriously going to hold me to that? For what I said in the heat of the momentâ that wasnât a pun.â You added quickly the moment you noticed that damned smirk creep onto his face.
Johnny placed your random item off to the side, shrugging a little as he took you in.
âI mean.. you sounded pretty serious back there..â He hummed, eyes rising from you up to the ceiling. âAnd I did..â The man stretched the word to really get his point across;
âHold up my end of the bargain.â Again, Johnny shrugged as if it was no big deal, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed.
âSo how about it [Name]? Looking to keep your promise?â
You couldnât handle the way he was staring at you, your gaze quickly looking at anything but him. From your vanity to your ceiling, your eyes danced about as if the answer was written plainly in the air. You expected to be in bed by now, cuddled up under blankets and sleeping away the stress of the day.
Not being propositioned for a statement you said randomly without a single thought.
As your eyes flicked back to the man, you noticed how he stood patientlyâ for once. Fully waiting for your reply. Maybe even a hint of excitement resting in his eyes.
Your teeth dragged across the inside of your cheek, rising a single hand and pointing towards your bed.
âLay down..â You tried to sound much more confident than you were letting on, but you were sure your voice wavered with each word. Though it didnât seem to faze the man, as Johnny was more than ready to abide your command; basically running over to the bed and dropping to his backâ bouncing a little from the impact.
You took in a sharp breath, bending as your hands ran across your thighs for a moment, under your dress, and hooking onto your panties. All under his watchful gaze you slid them down, the fabric bundling before landing against your floor.
Stepping out of them, you glanced up spotting the excited smile practically glued to his face. Slowly you stepped closer, approaching your bed and going knee first onto the comfy blankets. Carefully you crawled up and over him, soon standing right over his torso, collecting your night gown in both hands.
Johnny stared up at you, hands going to glide across your exposed legs, awaiting your next move.
You clenched your dress, lips pursing as you spoke, âDo you even know what youâre doing?â
âSit and find out.â
Johnny spoke far too quickly, voice devoid of his usual playfulness. You couldnât deny his words sent a shiver down to the right places, your anxiety simply churning even more.
But, you couldnât turn back now. Or rather, you didnât want to. So with a careful step, you inched until you were directly standing right above his head, slowly bending your knees.
Just when you were an inch above his face, strong arms suddenly locked around your waist, quickly pulling you down the rest of the way. You couldnât help but gasp, face flushed with warmth the moment you felt his gentle breathing right against your center.
âIâIâm not too heavyâŚright?â
You jumped the moment his annoyed grunt tickled against you, deciding it may be best to shut up right then and there instead of focusing on such trivial things. Rather you began to focus on his lips, and how they gently pressed against you.
Your own parted as the softest oh escaped. The feeling foreign but not at all unwanted. Your eyes fluttered closed, breathing softly as the gentle ministrations continued, Johnny purposely warming you up, slowly.
And when it seemed like you would get enough of just his lips, his tongue poked through, prodding at your lips before sliding them open with a slow lick.
You shook, clenching your night gown tight as those licks continued. His tongue was thick and long, slithering from your entrance right to your clit; paying special attention to that little bud. You were growing hot, eyebrows creasing closer as the pleasure grew. You werenât experienced in this sort of thing; no one has ever gifted you the pleasure of cunninglingus, yet here you were; with a fellow hero nonetheless.
Your coworker, really, one whose tongue was doing wonders.
âJohnny..â His name fell from your lips in a soft moan, it etching into a groan the moment you felt a hand of his move towards your ass, a warm palm gripping a handful. There, Johnnyâs rhythm sped up, his tongue twirling, creating a sloppy mess of your cunt.
Filthy sounds echoed from between your legs, a combination of your pussy and the downright sexy groans that the man was humming right into you. His fingers gripped your skin tightly, assuring you didnât move an inch as he kept up his treatment.
Your legs began to shake, his hair tickling your thighs as your stomach tightened. A hand released your nightgown to instead grip your headboard, even leaning forward to rest your forehead against the cool wood. The pleasure was clouding your mind, hips slowly moving; grinding right down on his faceâ without a care if he could breathe anymore.
Johnnyâs enjoyment was clear in the way his tongue went flat, gifting you a perfect surface to ride upon. The man was in pure heaven, having such a pretty thing right on his face, unable to move unless he says so. And albeit muffled because of your thick thighs, your moans were the perfectly melody to his already splendid front row seats.
The Human Torch wondered how loud he could get you with just his mouth. Maybe enough that someone bangs on the wall, begging for some peace within the night. Johnny couldnât help but grin to himself, lips slowly circling your swollen bud, sucking eagerly.
âFuâfuckâŚJohnny, Johâjohnny please!â
Thatâs it.. The man thought to himself, far too happy. He wish he could speak properly, muttering sweet praises and teases; wishing to mock you for being so loud yet encourage it in the safe breath. For now though, Johnny settled on humming along to your moans; the action causing the sweetest vibration.
Your hips increased in ferocity, chasing that high as the band within your stomach continued to tighten. Your eyes were going hazy, struggling to keep your voice at bay. It seemed your night gown went completely forgot, pushed up on your waist whilst your free hand went for his hair, tugging at the perfect locks; feeling the man grunt in response.
The harshest moan escaped you, hips grinding to a stop as you came; a sticky mess painting his face. Your chest rose and fell, heavy breaths escaping as your eyes shut close in an effort to relax.
Which, proved useless the moment you realized Johnny hadnât stopped. At all. Not for a second. His tongue remained on your cunt, licking you clean of your orgasm and then some.
The pleasure bordered on torture now, quickly turning into overstimulation that had you babbling for mercy;
âJâjohnny..! Ple..please I need a break..!ââ You reached for his forehead, pushing weakly at the space. The man didnât move an inch, him even making an effort to snake a tight arm around your leg so you didnât move off him.
Tears sprung to your eyes, using the headboard to steady yourself as tremors ran through your body. You could only sit there, paying the price for your poor choice of words in sobs and moans, the tears now streaming right down your warm cheeks.
Johnny was somehow able to peek at you, something he instantly regretted the moment he saw your features. So beautiful, face flushed, eyes glossy, and with the tiniest pout. He felt himself getting harder right in his boxers, struggling not to use a hand to stroke against the growing bulge. But the man knew if given the opportunity you would probably jump right off, so instead he settled on moving his hips uselessly in the airâ hoping the friction would relieve even an ounce of tension.
âSo fucking wetâŚI might drown.â Johnny managed to say right into your pussy, a loopy chuckle escaping him; as if drunk off your taste. But with the way his eyes were rolling back, he just might be.
âJo..johnny, Johnny, please..â
âFu..fuck..â The man muttered, sucking you up with such vigor as if his jaw was made of metal. âKeep.. saying my name, baby. Let me hear you.â
You obeyed his request easily, his name falling from your lips in a desperate mantra. With each call it pitched, your eyes going blurrierâ possibly even rolling to the back of your skull. That familiar feeling broached your stomach, only harsher than before; a feeling that nearly scared you if it wasnât for the pleasure that quickly washed over.
With shaky legs you were riding his face, your own a complete mess with tears, pressed against the cool wood of your headboard. Your eyes pinched closed, broken gasps and heavy moans escaping youâ voice going raw the moment it all came crashing down.
Heavier than before, surely soaking Johnny completely with your mess. You struggled to breathe, eyes pinched closed as the hold on his hair and your headboard loosened.
You whined the moment you felt movement, worrying he would pick back up but pleasantly surprised to feel the man gently pushing you down to rest on his chest, hearing a sharp breath escape him.
Your head went slack, eyes opening to land on his face. Johnny was a mess, skin coated with your arousal and his saliva, marking up his lips and cheeks. Along with that, he was a little red, hair even messier than before.
Yet he still grinned easily, gliding his hands up and down your thighs, soothing you a little.
âSee? I knew you could do it.â
You rolled your eyes slowly, shifting a little and moving in an attempt to crawl off. Yet you didnât move an inch as his arms tightened, refusing to let you go.
You caught his gaze, Johnny chuckling softly at the look of confusion painting your features. His hand rose, thumb curling to your waist.
âYou said for as long as I like..â
âJohnââ
The man gave a playful pout, head tilting up at you.
I have spotted a nigga!! He sounds like a nigga, hes voiced by a nigga, he looks like a nigga. I declare Jabber Wonger from Gachiakuta a certified nigga!!
Soooooooo.... Do my Melaninated Queens want a story orrrrr?
thinking about onyankapon playing with collegestudent!readerâs pussy while driving her home from the clubâŚhmmmm..
cw: onyankapon x fem!black reader, smut (mdni), p!link included, established relationship, clit play, fingering while driving, dom!ony, reader is drunk, mention of liquor, lowk just foreplay, use of papa, not proofread (ignore typos)
visual
Ony was really planning on lecturing the whole ride home when you called him to come pick you up because youâd been slacking lately. He sighed when he answered the phone, your voice slurring but still understandable enough for him to hear you the first time.
He was quiet at first, but that silence wasnât peaceâit was tense. One hand on the wheel, the other resting heavy on your thigh almost immediately after you stumbled in the car like it belonged there, his thumb tapping like he was counting down before he snapped.
The second you slid into the passenger seat, the smell of liquor clinging to your skin, you leaned across the console with a sloppy grin. âHiii, papa,â you dragged it out, plump lips puckered as you tried to press a kiss to his lips. Your words were all syrupy and sweet, but your body was clumsy, damn near falling into his lap. Onyankapon caught you with one hand on your shoulder, jaw tight. âSit back.â His voice was flat, firm, as he guided you into the seat like you were a child who couldnât stay still. You back hit the cold leather as you looked at him, âWhy you dont wanâ kiss mââ
âYou not actinâ right.â he cut you off, shifting gears and putting his foot on the gas. You didnât even question it, the corners of your glossed lips dipped into a frown as you turned your head to look out the window. That look he always caught you making when he wasnât kissing your ass.
He looked over at you real quick before putting his eyes back on the road. âYou out here actinâ like you grown, but canât handle your responsibilities. Think everything a joke till itâs not. Skipping class, not pickinâ up when I call, drinkinâ like you ainât got shit to do tomorrowâŚyou think thatâs responsible? Thatâs childish, mama. I ainât raise no little girl, I got a woman sittinâ next to me, right?â
You and Onyankapon had only been dating for four -ish years, and he always said that to you when you needed to be checkedâeven though heâs just a few years older than you. Still, he loved reminding you how disorganized and all over the place you were before him, like he took pride in being the one who steadied you.
As much as you shouldnât, you always got turned on when he talked to you like this. When you were sober, you usually would hide it and let him have lecture you but since youâre not you werenât hiding it as well (the fact that you were already thinking about him while you were out wasnât helping at all.)
You slouched in the passenger seat, hiccuping softly, braids falling across your face. âMmm⌠you always so serious,â you murmured, tilting your head just enough to lock eyes with him. Your voice was thick with the shots you took before you left.
Without warning, you shifted in the seat, turning your body toward him. Your hand reached to drag slow across his chest, down his torso, fingers pressing into him like you needed something to hold onto. He always looked good but he looks extra good tonight for some reason, you just wanted to be in his skin.
ââŚyou donât wanna love on me?â you slurred, lips curling into a drunk grin. âYou look sâgood right now. I was thinkinâ âbout you the whooole time⌠look.â
You fully turned to him so your back was to the door, spread your legs, slid your dress up over your thighs, bare pussy on display, slick already glistening, dripping down your entrance.
Onyâs grip on the wheel twitched when he seen you just spread yourself open without a second thought while he was driving. He was a little taken-aback because you didnât even hesitate to expose yourself to him in a public space, which was unlike you. It was also a late Saturday night so itâs not like there was nobody on the road, you just didnât give a fuck.
âYouââ he mumbled as he stared at your drooling pussy, visibly pulsing like it was begging for him before he even touched you. His hand dragging down his face before it landed heavy on your inner thigh, palm caressing your skin, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you watched his hand moving dangerously close to where you need him. âYou sittinâ here wet as fuck while iâm tryna talk to you.â
But instead of pulling away, his thumb pressed down, lazily circling your clit. The wheel stayed steady in his other hand, but his voice dropped lower, teeth gritted. âGot me riskinâ our life âcause you donât know how to behave.â The sudden stimulation youâve been waiting for all night made you let out a soft moan, close your eyes and your head loll back, hitting the tinted window behind you.
Onyâs thumb dipped lower, brushing against the wetness pooling at your entrance, then slid back up in a slow, calculated stroke. Soft, breathy moans spilling from your lips, louder this time, messy and unrestrained.
âYou wasnât paying attention to shit I said when you sat your ass in here. You need to listen to me,â he demanded, voice firm, even while his thumb worked your clit slow, steady, making your thigh tremble uncontrollably. Your nails dug into the leather seat, your pussy clenching around nothing.
ââŚI am papa,â you breathed, voice breaking into a whine, head tipping back against the window, eyes glassy and unfocused, your mind hazy with nothing but him.
Onyankaponâs lips curved into the smallest smirk, like he had heard something funny. âMhmâŚyou always say that when Iâm makinâ you feel good. You not listeninâ.â
You werenât, you could only look down at his finger as gradually sped up, shivering, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.
âY-yeaahhh I ammm⌠ohhh fffuckâŚâ you moaned, your back arching off the door behind you.
The streetlights flashed past the windshield, casting sharp shadows over his face as he drove like it was nothing, smooth and steady, yet his pace never faltered.
His thumb pressed tighter, sliding down again to gather more of your slick before dragging it back up, spreading it slow over your swollen clit. He started shaking his head, eyes locked on the road, knuckles flexing on the wheel.
Your body jolted at the sharper stroke, thighs twitching, a high-pitched whimper slipping out before you could bite it back. âP-please, I am, Iâm listeninâ, I swearââ
âNo,â he cut you off, voice steady but edged with heat. âYou hearinâ me, but you not takinâ it in. Always gotta have shit my way before you learn.â His words were calm, but the pressure of his thumb contradicted every ounce of patience in his tone, circling faster, harder, dragging sounds out of you that filled the car louder than the engine.
Your hands flying to his forearm, clinging like you needed him to slow down, but your hips betrayed youâgrinding, chasing more of what he gave. Your voice cracked around a moan, incoherent.
Onyâs had a look in his eyes like he was contemplating stopping the car in the middle of the street and just fucking you right there as you were moaning his name like its all you knew. Your slick dripping down his seat, moans spilling out with no rhythm or restraint. He tried to keep it light to keep his focus on the road, but the sound of you, the heat rolling off your body, the way you were damn near crying for himâit pushed him over that line.
âMan, fuck thisâŚâ he growled under his breath, his hand left the wheel for half a second, snapping your thighs open wider before two of his thick fingers slid inside you without warning. The wet squelch filled the car, your gasp ripping through the air, sharp and needy.
Your body jerked, nails clawing deeper at the leather, eyes rolling back as your walls clenched tight around him. âOhnnnyyyâahhh! Ohmygodââ
Ony started dragging it out, fucking you on his fingers slow, thumb barely grazing your clit just enough to keep you twitching but not enough to push you over. Your little whines and the way your hips chased his hand had him twitching in his pants, but he kept that same steady paceâuntil he felt your walls start to grip down around him. Thatâs when he switched it up.
âMhm, greedy ass pussyâtryna milk my fingers like itâs dick.â his tone covered in heat, almost a growl as his fingers drove into you harder, faster, curling with every pump, thumb pressing into your clit in rough, tight circles. The sloppy sounds of your pussy filled the car, wetness spilling down his knuckles, making the leather under you damp. The sudden pace had you crying out, body jumping, thighs clamping around his wrist as cream started coating his fingers thick. âWaitwaitwait!⌠Iâm⌠Iâm gonna⌠ohhh, shiiitttâŚ!â you cried as your eyebrows furrowed, eyes rolling back.
âYeah, there you go,â he grunted, never slowing down while you gushed around him, messy and loud, your release dripping down to his palm. Your head fell back, mouth open on a broken moan, body jerking helplessly as he worked you through it, thumb grinding mercilessly into your clit until you were damn near sobbing, shaking under his hand.
Onyâs smirk tuned into a lazy smile as he looked at the way your legs still twitched after he slowed. He eased his fingers out slow, coated in creamy release, before suddenly shoving them in your mouth while you were try to catch your breath.
His fingers stayed in your mouth, heavy on your tongue while you sucked them clean, eyes hazy and cheeks hollowing around his knuckles. The taste of yourself coated your tongue, making your thighs press tight together as he drove like nothing was happening.
The car slowed to a stop at a red light. Ony finally dragged his fingers from between your lips, slick glistening in the passing glow of the streetlamps.
âSit up,â he ordered, voice low and rough. His hand curled in a lazy âcome hereâ motion.
You obeyed instantly, chest rising fast as you pushed yourself off the window. He wrapped his fingers around your throat, his still-wet fingers cold against your skin.
The pressure made your breath hitch, but before you could melt all the way into it, Ony leaned in, catching your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slid past your lips, tasting the sweetness of your slick still lingering on your tongue, swallowing the soft whimper that left your throat.
The glow turned green, and he pulled back, dragging a thumb slow over your spit slicked plump bottom lip. âMessy ass girl. Keep it together till we get home,â he uttered, the tone in his voice let you know that he wasnât just gonna let you doze off until the morning.
Š fayesarchive â do not repost, reupload, or copy my work. reblogs are appreciated :)
(a/n): this was supposed to be a drabble but i always get carried away LMFAOOO & im too lazy to add visuals its 2am. spare me.
Today's breakdown: I adore the "weird ones." The characters everyone labels as strange â the authentic, the theatrical, the over-the-top. Especially those with a rocker, outsider vibe, so stylish it hurts. Dark aura? Accused of witchcraft? Satanism? Branded as "freaks" by puritans? YES, PLEASE!
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
origamiaround
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl
pixelskylines
