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adrinktostopyourthirst · 2 years ago

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Bucky Barnes | One Shot | My Queen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Queen!Reader

Plot: The post-battle energy rush needs a release. Suddenly, there’s a willing soldier at your disposal.

Warnings: 18+. Smut and mentions of violence.

Words: 4OOO

“There are guests, Your Majesty,” John tells you with pity in his voice, not mentioning it because he thinks you have forgotten, but because he needs you to be aware of the important fact. If you tried hard enough, it wasn’t too much of a task to remember your duties and who those entailed, but it was a relief to have John around to remind you of such things, since you valued your duties and relations with the outside world dearly.

You glance around nervously and give him a guilty pout, grabbing the last of your belongings.

“I know, I am so sorry, but this is important. Send them a plane and I will get back to them as soon as I can,” you plead and quickly rush out of the room to the main entrance hall, John following you as you make your way to the prepared jet.

Mind occupied by making sure your small legion is armed and ready to go as you walk, you get brought to an abrupt stop when two large men block your path. Raising your head, you glower curiously at the rude interruption. As busy as you have been the past weeks, you study each and every encounter you plan, so you know exactly who the two men are.

“Captain Wilson. Sergeant Barnes.”

“Your Majesty,” Sam’s greeting is curt, yet kind. “I don’t suppose a sudden departure is part of your infamous warm welcome?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You have an awful lot of courage speaking to a queen this way,” you warn him, your tone formal before your features soften towards your guests. “But I apologise. Something important came up and I hardly think sending you into war with me is considered a warm welcome.”

The man you recognise as James Barnes lets out a humoured scoff. “Clearly, you don’t know us very well.”

Your eyes dart between the men suspiciously and a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, hardly able to contain it at the sheer boldness coming from the men. After a pregnant pause and your legion having left the hall to board the jet, you slowly turn to John.

“John. You heard the men. Get them suited and onto the jet.” Sharing one more glance with the men, your eyes lingering on the twinkle of mischief in Bucky’s eyes, you brush past them and step onto the plane without another word.

…

“It’s not often a queen goes into war with her people.”

“Well, unfortunately my legions are struggling on their own,” you explain to Sam calmly.

“What happened?” Bucky asks, brows pulled together in slight worry.

“John? Could you please bring them up to speed while I get ready?”

As John takes over and shows the two heroes what their next mission will be as they serve someone else’s queen, you step over to the side and let one of your generals help you suit up. Slipping into the modern metal, rusted with nano technology, the shimmering suit glides over your body perfectly.

From the corner of your eyes, you notice Bucky Barnes losing interest from John’s briefing and your eyes lock with his. There’s a rush of heat pulsing through your body at the sheer boldness of Bucky not breaking eye contact once he gets caught staring. His eyes rake up and down the sleek suit and lock back onto yours, a knowing smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth before he drags his eyes away and turns back to his previous conversation.

Leaving you absolutely flustered and furious.

Did he just ogle a queen?

…

Bucky is startled enough for it to nearly show on his face when he sees the feral look you have on yours. He knows that look, has worn it plenty of times himself. Battle doesn’t quite leave your body and mind as soon as it is over. Even with your spectacular win, which Bucky knows is mostly because of your reliability and skills as a powerful leader, the raging chaos of adrenaline lingers like you have days worth of battles to fight still.

He came in to check up on you post-battle, easily slipping past your guards, to find you pacing in your blood-splattered gear around the chamber before what he assumes is your bedroom. The hall is large and decorated wonderfully, but so very empty with your restless figure pacing through it. He’s certain he can feel your energy buzzing all the way up to the impossibly high ceilings.

Having enough decency to announce himself, he gently knocks on the door from inside of the room. When you whirl towards him in your frenzy, he finds it amusing enough to plaster a smirk onto his face. “Restless, my queen?”

You huff through your nostrils. “I still have fight in me.” He knows. “I want to kill them for springing that attack on us.” He knows that too, but the gravel in your voice awakens a slumbering beast inside of him and fire starts curling around his bones.

“I think you gave them enough hell for what they did to you,” he assures you and something in your eyes seems to soften at that. You did give them hell. Rightfully so.

“But this energy–” You shake out your trembling hands to rid yourself of that restlessness. Bucky nods and slowly prowls closer, hands gliding into his pockets as he slants his head to the side to observe you.

“I know,” he acknowledges, “it takes a while to wear off.”

“How do you handle it?” you ask him, taking a steadying breath as he crosses the room. “After a fight, how do you get rid of all of that energy?”

Bucky flashes you a grin, his brows raising with intrigue and a mischievous shimmer in his eyes. “I hardly think I could speak about such methods to a sophisticated queen.”

“Sophisticated, my ass,” you snap, narrowing your eyes at the broad soldier. “You hardly felt like you had to be appropriate when you were watching me put on this suit,” you say with a scoff, ushering to the intricate metals you’re wearing.

“In my defence, I hadn’t seen you fight yet. Whereas now,” he shrugs, “I’d prefer staying in your good graces.”

“You fuck it out, don’t you?”

Bucky’s blink is the only sign of his surprise and he cocks his head at you again. “Excuse me?”

“The only way to get rid of the energy after battle is to get your dick wet,” you clarify, “isn’t it?”

Bucky chokes on a laugh, stepping even closer to you now with his hands still in his pockets, close enough to make you have to tilt your chin up. “You have a filthy mouth for a queen,” he breathes and to accentuate his words, his eyes drop to said mouth.

“I didn’t become queen by being prim and proper,” you explain with a little less fire than you intended to say it with.

“No,” he breathes, “you didn’t.”

Another restless shudder up your spine reminds you of your predicament, your thudding heartbeat not coming to a rest. You sigh, searching those blue eyes still trained on your lips. “Care to help a queen out?”

“You want to see me bow for you again, don’t you?” He smirks and finally raises his eyes to meet yours.

You can’t help but smile slightly, giving him a guilty shrug, because yes, you loved seeing him bow for you earlier as you stepped onto the battlefield. Not just that, plenty of pretty men had bowed for you. It was Bucky’s willingness and respect as he took a knee for you that was particularly invigorating. He matches your smile and takes a long second to let you take in what he is about to do, before slowly sinking to his knees in front of you, steady hands moving to rest on your thighs.

“Your people are awfully lucky to get to serve you every day,” he murmurs, looking up at you with eyes of fire and submission. That manages to make heat surge to your cheeks and ears, swallowing hard as you take in the sight before you. “May I?”

It takes all of your power not to nod too eagerly before he starts working off the buckles and belts of your suit, the nanotechnology wingmanning perfectly as the metal retreats into the hard base of the suit.

Soon, you are in nothing but your underwear. Bones and muscles are trembling beneath your skin in response to forcing your body to be utterly still. Chemical reactions are ricocheting against the barrier of your skin to make you spring apart. So much energy. So much fire and passion and fury still roiling inside of you. A heavy blanket settles over it – desire. But before you can order him to act on it, Bucky comes back to a stand.

“Close your eyes,” he mutters.

“I’m close to fighting you, Sergeant Barnes,” you promise him, showing your active restraint, but deciding to close your eyes anyway.

He huffs a soft laugh and you feel his eyes burning into your skin, a knuckle brazenly trailing over your collarbones and down the centre of your chest. “I will take you up on that another day,” he answers and your blood heats up at the fact that Bucky revels in both of those sides of you. Most men cower at your bloodlust, but not him. He kneels before it.

Speaking of him kneeling–

“I didn’t tell you to get up,” you remind him and his hand pauses.

“I didn’t particularly think it would be fair to leave you standing as I proceed to immobilise your legs, my queen,” he drawls and you snap your mouth shut. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you find him having taken a step back, holding out his hand for you to take.

Carefully taking it with a questioning look in your eyes, Bucky leads you to your bedroom like he has been there a thousand times. Slowly and deliberately, he guides you to your own bed, still fully clothed himself in those black leathers.

“I expected it to be more rough,” you admit steadily. “Fucking out that energy...”

Bucky turns back to you, hands now on your waist as he pivots you with your back to the bed, the backs on your legs touching the foot of it. “Fucking you roughly won’t do the trick,” he explains. “Fucking you thoroughly will.”

If you weren’t quaking before, this would do the trick. Your heartbeat is pulsing between your legs, hammering for attention, the seams of your underwear teasing you more than the man before you. It paralyses you, that desire coursing through your veins like syrup, makes you fall quiet. Only for a short while.

“Then do it.”

Bucky’s brows raise again, not having expected you to fold so fast. “What?”

“Did I fucking stutter?” you hiss at him. “I need you to fuck me before I explode.”

Bucky smirks at you again and you’re so tempted to smother that smirk – you have your ways. “I am not yours to give orders to.”

You restrain from rolling your eyes at him, the close proximity making you prone to holding your breath and making your words coming out strained. “I’m not going to beg for it.”

“You already have,” he reminds you, not an inch of him giving away that he might be unravelling. “And I think you will, sweetheart. I think you are seconds away from begging for it.”

As if in answer to his outrageous insinuation, a shudder racks through your bones and flashes of that wild battle make your nervous system rush to life again. It’s so frustrating, to have so much energy begging to be released.

His solid eyes and steady hands on your waist make you want to sink into him for relief. You want Bucky to tear you apart, almost similar to the way he tore apart those monsters earlier. Calculated, precise and only slightly unhinged. His fighting earlier was like a choreography your body wanted to study and practice until it can memorise nothing else. The way his muscles moved, the precise strikes of his metal arm, the focused crinkles in his handsome face, his thick thighs planting him firmly onto the ground – your ground. Fighting for your lands. For you.

My queen, he had called you. You suppose he does answer to your commands, then. But you might just beg for it. If only because it feels so tempting. To whine for his pleasure, sob for it and make him serve you like he wanted to do earlier. How awful, for a queen to want to beg for it.

“Please,” you almost gasp from holding your breath for too long.

He hums, low and deadly, his finger kneading gently and appreciatively into your soft flesh. “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs and before you can shout in outrage, he slowly dips down and presses his pillowy soft lips to your collarbone, instantly making your head tilt backwards.

His hands pull you close enough for your front to be pressed to his and your hands automatically grab his shoulders. His lips part and his tongue traces a singular line over the thinnest piece of skin on your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His mouth moves up, tongue dipping in and out to raise your pulse as he suckles at your skin. Your fingers curl slightly and your body starts to nearly shake with jitters at the adrenaline coursing through you like an electrical charge.

Bucky bites down on the tense skin beneath your ear where he hums against you, the sound ringing in your head like a gong. His hands have travelled to your back, stroking up and down the bare skin until your bra pops loose with you barely noticing. You tremble with need when all you are left in are your panties and Bucky pulls away to once again sink down to his knees.

You swallow hard at his stare from below you and follow his silent command to sit down at the edge of the bed. Hooking his hands around your knees, he presses them apart and lifts one leg over his shoulder. Your fingers dig into the soft sheets with anticipation and you only break the intense eye contact to watch his tongue trace his bottom lip. He hooks your other leg over his shoulder and drags you to the very edge of the bed, getting comfortable on his knees.

“Is this where you want me?” he asks, but you don’t deign to answer him. “Kneeling before my queen.”

“Something tells me you don’t mind being there at all,” you answer tightly and his hands stroke up and down your calves lovingly. Bucky presses one kiss to your inner thighs, taking in a big whiff of air and groaning at the smell of your arousal.

“There is something about eating a meal on my knees that speaks to me,” he drawls, his eyes settling on said meal, only covered by the thin fabric of your panties. He presses another kiss, right over the damp fabric. You shudder.

“Then eat,” you bite back, scrambling to hang onto your power as a queen.

Bucky gives a wide grin, keeping his eyes on your soaking core. His hand lifts and his finger loops into the fabric, making you bite your lip painfully hard at the brief touch. He pulls the fabric to the side, spreading your legs enough for him to dive in, but not doing so yet. “That is no way to speak to your soldiers.”

Your soldier, Bucky supposes after today he is. You’re torture. Your smell, your voice, your body, the sheer power you have over him – over everyone.

Your hand finds his hair and you rake your fingers through the thick, brown tresses. Your eyes are soft when Bucky looks up to find them. “Will you take the honour of being my soldier?”

You’re genuine, he’s sure of it. Bucky can tell you’re asking him for so much more than just this. And considering his current predicament, he will consider his duties as your soldier later. Right now, he can only nod, entranced by the queen who has her legs wrapped around his head. He can only think of one duty right now and that is to rid you of all of that devastating warrior energy the only way he knows how.

Bucky buries his face between your legs and begins his feasting. Nudging his nose against your clit and prodding his tongue in and out of you. Licking every inch of your warm, wet, lovely cunt as if it’ll guarantee a place in your kingdom for him.

Sam will kill him for never returning home, but by the heavens, he can’t find it in him to care enough. Not with you tasting so heavenly and– fuck, those goddamn moans.

…

He was right, he was so fucking right. The slow and steady and longs thrusts make your body hiss in delight. The thorough swivel of his hips when he’s buried into you as far as possible, releases every bit of pent up energy that suffocates you. The sharp snap of his hips right as he’s about to hit home makes you shudder and sob, clenching around him every time as if you feel every thrust like the very first one.

Bucky strikes your deepest spot with each one, your hair between his fingers, your back arched to meet him and your cheek pressed into the mattress. Your eyes flutter painfully against your will, your toes curling when pleasure wraps around every abdominal muscle, your pussy spasming around him in need for release as the pressure between your hips grows to be unbearable.

The sounds that slip from your parted mouth sound inhumane. Soft and pitiful whimpers between huffs of breath. Oh God, oh God. You need him to slow down for a second, except he’s not going fast at all. He’s slow and deep and oh God, he’s so fucking deep.

You grapple for a grip in the sheets, any tether to reality slipping from your mind after every move he has already made. The last of your control, your power as a queen, slips away from you on a phantom wind, desire clouding every piece of domination inside of you. It’s all his now, you are all his now.

Within a short second, you get hauled up by your hair, arched against his heaving, sweaty chest until his mouth nips at your earlobe. Your hands grab his hips behind you, nails digging into his firm skin.

“You still there, my queen?” he coos, and you feel his grin as his mouth grazes over your neck possessively. Your answer is the harsh tightening of your nails into him and the groan he lets out makes you clench around him wantonly. “Oh, somewhere. You’re somewhere in that sex-riddled brain of yours. Losing your mind a little, are you?”

You swear you mean to speak a sentence – a word, at least – but the sound that comes out sounds like another garbled moan and Bucky laughs at your demise. He quickly presses a loving kiss to your shoulder, a deep thrust settling him so deep inside of you, you flutter helplessly around him.

“Don’t worry,” he hums, another deep thrust following as the hand in your hair slips to securely grip your throat and move your ear back to his mouth. “Next time, I will let you take the reigns. You can tie me to the bed and use me to make yourself come. I’m looking forward to it, actually.” You pulse around him and he snickers. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Prefer to have control and use the ones that serve you.” He bites your ear softly and squeezes your throat. “Oh, but you look so pretty like this. Don’t take this away from me, sweetheart.”

It's a whirlwind of emotions that rush through you at his words. You feel his desperation to have you like this seep through his ignorant confidence having you exactly like he wants you. The last of your working brain cells are screaming yes, yes, yes at his request. You’ll let him have you like this every day for the rest of your life. And it flashes before your eyes, him waking you up by slowly fucking you, hand back in your hair and lazy mouth muttering filthy things against your skin. God, he’s filthy.

Your vision is swirling as his pace picks up and blood flow to your brain is slightly limited by his grip. Ecstasy is rushing through your head and limbs with heavy tingles, and your moans raise in pitch. The metal hand bruising your hips with its possessive grip, slides between your legs and messily toys with your clit, the feeling making you want to buckle over.

“Shit!” you gasp and throw your head back into his shoulder, thighs quaking at the stimulation. Too much, it’s too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel every inch of him glide in and out of you with an ease and precision that feels degrading and embarrassing. Bucky’s breath is equally laboured now and his grip on you turns from possessive to desperate, like he cannot get enough of you into his hands.

“Come for me again, my queen,” he purrs in your ear, knowing what that term now does to you, and you nod blindly. Following his command blindly, unable to resist the feeling of his deep thrusts and his firm circles on your clit any longer, you let the warmth of your orgasm consume you. You tremble and shake and stiffen at his touch and he doesn’t stop. “Come on, keep coming. Keep fucking coming, baby.”

You choke out a sob, surely drawing blood with your nails as you gasp for air, for any word to make him ease up on you, but he only stops when you buckle over and your trembling form succumbs to the sheets below you. Curled up on the sheets, bearing the waves of pleasure that haunt your every nerve, you feel Bucky’s exhausted and sex-glazed eyes watching you carefully. You faintly feel the trickle of him come pulsing out of you and it nearly makes you smile.

Two hands, one scorching with heat and one a welcome cool, gently stroke up the sides of your thighs, cooing sounds coming from Bucky as he watches you come back to your senses. Lips follow his soothing touches, warm kisses being pressed to your quickly cooling skin.

“How’s that post-fight energy?” he asks softly and your eyes finally flutter open to meet his curious ones, the blue shimmering with… Pride.

“Fuck,” you pant, “you.”

He laughs, “Again?”

You breathe a soft laugh and he at last presses a kiss to your lips. If you had the energy, you know your body would betray you by lifting your head to chase his lips.

You finally let out a defeated sigh, letting the corners of your mouth lift to a lazy smile. “Thank you.”

“At your disposal,” he mutters back with slight amusement and you open your eyes again to look at him. God, he’s beautiful.

“Are you,” you dare to ask, earnest in your eyes, “at my disposal…?”

“It would be an honour.”

“Likewise.”

“That is more than I’ve ever had before.”

“The honour?”

He nods. And then leans in, his mouth brushing your ear as your eyes flutter closed again, goosebumps rising over your skin. “I will bow for you any day,” he breathes softly, “my queen.”

#Oh my god #i did it jfc this took me forever to finally get to i apologise #i have genuinely NO idea if this is good i am in a daze i actually finished something #im trying my hardest to stay original and I'm sorry if its not what you expected #i wanted a simp bucky though sorry not sorry #please tell me what you think?#bucky barnes #writing #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshot #IT DELETED THE LAST TWO LINES SO I ADDED THEM NOW

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were-changing-cake-vaults · 9 months ago

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Doc is really, really, really tired of getting dragged into things.

That’s the problem with this server: he tries to do his own thing, but people cannot leave him alone. No matter what he does to deter them, whether that be harmless threat or psychological warfare, they always come back to dance on his metaphorical lawn. Or actual lawn. Or precious one-of-a-kind bush.

And at this point, he thought he had gotten used to all the shenanigans. He doesn’t want to be the grumpy old man amongst his friends and colleagues, so Doc tries to laugh it off, not take it so seriously. Occasionally, he’ll even join in on the jokes and put a little extra pizzazz into his mannerisms. Doc has his limits, of course, everyone does, but he’s been working on pushing those limits further for the past while.

So when Beef makes the joke about Big Salmon on day one, he joins in on it for the moment. It’s a good joke, really. It gets a hearty laugh out of him more than once. The joke is made, people laugh, Doc is included, he moves on and goes back to doing his own thing.

Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. The joke should’ve been a one-and-done, forgotten after a week’s time. Whatever he said should’ve been inconsequential. Should be. Beef’s not one to drag out a bit for that long, usually, but here he is, dressed as a salmon and saying he got emails from a fish. Doc is utterly clueless throughout most of it- he doesn’t even understand what constituted him getting dragged in this time. And the way Beef and Skizz are talking is scaring him, just a little bit. Skizz is too aggressive, Beef is laying down the charmspeak, and both of their eyes are glossy and strange. There’s a hollow echo in the room.

But Doc, absurd as this is, plays along. Watches as one of his villagers gets killed. Lets nervous laughter through as he’s given 10 salmon heads, and leaves. When he gets back to his base out in the middle of nowhere, he realizes that these aren’t normal salmon heads, they’re worse: deformed, many-eyed, slimy and reeking of rot. And while this isn’t the strangest thing Doc has seen, as far as he knows, Beef isn’t one for game-breaking like he is. The deformities on the heads don’t even look player made. Whatever this is, it’s bizaarre, and it’s not something Doc wants to be involved in.

Then the whispers start.

He doesn’t do what he’s asked—build a shrine for whatever Big Salmon is—initially. He lets it be for a bit, shrugs it off, and keeps building. But it’s hard to focus when you can’t sleep—in his dreams he’s drowning, sinking deeper and deeper, sea life surrounding him and screaming and he’s screaming too as a pair of eyes stare him down—and when you can’t get a moment of quiet. He keeps hearing that damn slapping sound and little nothings about shrine schematics, block pallets, glorious statues. The air starts reeking of rot, far more than a swamp should. Strange slime crawls up the scaffolding that he keeps slipping on.

And this is why Doc is tired: Big Salmon is not his first rodeo. This isn’t the first time something has grabbed hold of his soul and tried to puppeteer it to his own demise. This isn’t even the scariest thing he’s come across- he still dreams of watching himself rip his own arm off. He knows gods and entities like he knows redstone, all the intricacies of magic that weave through the universe. They want to be satisfied, satiated. Doc will not give whatever Big Salmon is that satisfaction, not for long.

So he puts up with the rot, the slime, the dreams. Keeps the salmon heads, perpetually grotesque, in a chest where he can see them. Gives them a minuscule in: blueprints are crafted of the shrine he is meant to build, dying leaves are placed and waterlogged, copper is bent and formed into a worthless statue. The sky is cloudy. The sky has been cloudy all week, swamp air thick with the smell of rotting fish. He gives Beef a call, tells him to bring Skizz along.

When what should be Doc’s friend arrives, he is more fish than man. The tinnitus-like whisper of the thing trying to get him reaches a roar as he gives Beef a look over- there is no telling where the suit ends and the skin begins, all scaled, slimy and opalescent. Skizz, on the contrary, is looking relatively normal; the only strange thing about him are his glazed over eyes. Something about that makes Doc queasy about his plan, but he swallows the bile rising in his throat and steels himself, forces himself to be calm. This is not his first rodeo.

Doc’s faked smile doesn’t fail him as he leads Beef and Skizz to the statue. It doesn’t fail him as he hands the last rotting head to Beef for him to place, on top of an over-polished button. His grin only widens as Skizz counts down his boss pressing the button.

With a single button press, the voices that have taken residence in Doc’s head are wiped out, as are Skizz and Beef: bloody…fish…bits fly high into the sky when they fall into the exploding trap. There is a deafening boom, and then there is Doc, unscathed, laughing wickedly, organic eye sparkling with mania. Gods never win against him. There is no winning against the goat.

And finally, with the threat of Big Salmon defeated, Doc can finally rest. After all, he is incredibly tired.

#woosh writes #oceans calling au #docm77 #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft #FINALLY! ITS FUCKING DONE!!!!#HOLY FUCK THIS TOOK ME FOREVER #I am so sorry this took as long as it did- a bajillion irl things happened and that delayed my writing significantly #ANYWAYS. [SCREAMS]

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kaereth · 1 year ago

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#mushdeer from requests!#i am drawing some sorry it took forever to post jsjs #muchroom #deer #character design #artists on tumblr

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raz-writes-the-thing · 1 year ago

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Demon's Blood

Aziraphale x Crowley x Fem!Vampire!Reader - 18+ ONLY

Summary: Part two to Angel's Blood. You've tried Aziraphale. It's high time you tried Crowley, too.

CW: blood, bloodplay, knifeplay (only a smidge and it's barely play), wrist cutting (for snack purposes), choking, p in v, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, Dom!Crowley, Switch!Aziraphale, degradation.

Requests are: open and encouraged

Gomens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

Vamp!Reader tag list: @purplefrog1sblog (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You’re not sure, but you think they may have planned this, not by starving you, of course- or removing your food sources, but, by just… waiting for the right moment to strike.

And it would be a blatant lie if you had said that you hadn’t been thinking about the way you ground an orgasm out on Aziraphale’s thigh while drinking down his blood (it would also be a lie to say Aziraphale and Crowley hadn’t been thinking about the same with regularity) more often than you should. Thinking about it late at night when you couldn’t sleep (not that you needed to sleep at all, of course) you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of it more than once. A lot more than once if you were completely honest with yourself.

Since you’d fed from Aziraphale, your relationship with the Angel and Demon had changed quite a lot. Gone were the days of quiet platonic contemplation in each others’ presence. Now there were days of stolen kisses, picnics in the park, and theatre shows. Days of mind-blowing sex, too. That was also now a regular occurrence- and one you were not going to complain about any time soon and neither were they, just quietly.

You hadn’t fed from him since, as you hadn’t really needed to. That was changing, though. You were beginning to grow hungry again, beginning to feel your cells fizzling and dying. At least this time you were in the early stages of hunger and not leaving it until the brink of desperation to actually do something about it.

Your partners had also clearly started to notice the way your eyes would dilate at the scent of blood. The little sharp gasps you’d make when someone would get a papercut across the street, or when someone scraped their knee. You would never feed from someone innocent, you all knew that. But it didn’t change the visceral reaction you had to the smell either.

Tonight, however, blood was the last thing you had on your mind. Sure, the need was always lingering under the surface, waiting for you to snap and feed to your undead heart's content- but it was also extremely hard to focus when you were laying on top of Aziraphale with his cock rubbing up against the crack of your ass and his thick, warm fingers prying your legs up and apart.

Aziraphale was peppering kisses all over your neck, whispering sweet nothings as his grip tightened on the meat of your thighs. Crowley was currently in the midst of burying his fingers as deep into your cunt as he possibly could. In and out, twisting and stretching your hole without mercy.

You’re doing your best not to snap your hips up off the bed, and Aziraphale is whispering sweet and filthy praise into your ears as a reward. When his tongue rakes up the shell of your ear you whine loudly.

“What’s the matter, Pet?” Crowley asks, slinking over you to nip at your jaw. “This not enough for you?”

Your face screws up with pleasure as Aziraphale grinds his heavy cock against the small of your spine. You know he’s loving this, the little shit. Aziraphale, you had figured out- liked the teasing. He loved to make himself wait, to get just enough pleasure to keep him going before being able to truly let go.

“Mm- please?” You ask, forcing your eyes to open and focus on the Demon currently paying deft attention to your nipples with his forked tongue.

“Actually, dear-” Aziraphale pipes up softly, giving your thighs a yank when he notices that they’re starting to slip closed again. “We rather thought we might try something new tonight.”

Crowley’s brow arches deviously. “If you’re interested, of course,” the Demon says innocently, forcing himself to quit tonguing your nipple.

“What did you- oh- have in mind?” You ask, jumping when Crowley gives your nipple a harsh pinch just for the fun of it.

The Demon’s lips curl into a knowing grin. A grin you’ve come to know quite well over the last few centuries, although not something you’re entirely familiar with in this current scenario. Your pussy clenches around nothing, and you wiggle back against Aziraphale’s cock, who gasps behind you.

Crowley leans over you to the bedside table, giving you the perfect opportunity to press a sharp bite into his side. He chuckles, and Aziraphale gives your thigh a vaguely scolding pat. When he returns to sit back on his haunches, he hides what he has behind his back.

“Toys aren’t something you need to hide from me, Crowley, dear. I may have been born in the sixteenth century, but that doesn’t mean I’m a sixteenth-century prude either.” You bat your eyes at him for emphasis and he just ignores you, launching right into a new question.

“Mm, right- are you hungry?”

Now this does confuse you. Hungry? Yes, always, and quite frankly the reminder of your current lack of blood supply is not helping the intimate mood as much as you’d like it to.

“Y-yes?” You supply. Zira noses at your ear, making dark and heated eye contact with the Demon over your shoulder.

“Well, see- the Angel and I were thinking,” Crowley said, twiddling the item behind his back in his hands for a moment. “If you wanted to try, erm, the other side of the Canal, so to speak.”

One of Aziraphale’s hands slides down from where he’s holding you open to rub as best he can at your clit from that angle. Your eyes flutter and the muscles in your now free leg groan in protest as you stretch it back out.

“Not too far, dearest,” Aziraphale interjects. “We’re going to need that back there in a moment.”

You’re not sure what to make of this, but you can’t deny the way your pussy clenches at the thought of trying Demon’s blood. Particularly after knowing how Angel’s blood had worked on you.

“What have you got behind your back, Crowley?”

He pulls the object out and into view. You recognise it immediately. A blade. A delicate little thing, curved at the tip. It looks like something Crowley’s taken good care of for quite some time.

“You like it?” He asks, twirling the sharp thing in his fingers. “They don’t make ‘em like this anymore, do they?”

You shake your head. They definitely didn’t.

Crowley took the blade and set it aside for a moment, shuffling forward to sit closer between your legs. You eye his cock as he takes it in hand. He nudges Zira’s fingers away from your clit, who splutters at the ridiculousness of the act and Crowley replaces them with the head of his cock.

He’s still holding it in place as he rubs himself against your clit, little gasps escaping you both. Your thighs twitch with pleasure and pain as Aziraphale goes back to holding them both in place.

The Angel can’t help but rock himself against you, pre-cum leaking onto your skin. The slide of his cock against your arse, and Crowley’s cock against your clit makes you shiver, head falling back onto Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“Oh, she likes that,” Aziraphale pants, fingers leaving red marks on your skin. You can’t help but let the little shy whimper out. Crowley snickers mockingly, slapping the head of his cock against your clit a few times.

“Be a dear,” Crowley said, reaching for your hand and placing it above his length. “Hold that there, eh, love?”

You blush at the request, placing the flat of your hand over him so he can continue to rub his cock into your clit while he reaches once again for the blade. The feel of his cock sliding against your folds and your hand has you writhing.

Crowley takes the blade and trails it down your chest, hips stuttering just a little when you swell with intrigue. Oh, this was looking interesting indeed.

“Didn’t fail to notice, Pet,” he emphasises the ‘t’. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Didn’t I?” You pant back, rolling your hips against his cock. Aziraphale groans at the friction. Crowley hums a ‘no’ at you, and you grin. “Yes, dear- I’m hungry.”

Your Angel and Demon take this as word enough, and Crowley takes his blade and his wrist and raises it above your body. He gives you one more heated look before slicing the skin there softly, a little ‘oh’ as fat drops of blood slither down his skin and drip off onto your body.

Pat. A drop lands on your chin. Pat. Another on your chest. Pat, pat. More down your tummy and then- pat, pat, pat. Drips landing on the hand keeping Crowley in place. You can smell it, sweet notes of cedar. You feel out the points of your fangs with your tongue. Crowley clocks the motion and grins, allowing some more of his blood to drip onto your fingertips. Pat, pat.

He moves your hand, raising it to your lips.

“Go on,” he tempts. “Have a taste, hey?”

You glance between your bloodied fingers and Crowley’s heated smirk. Not breaking eye contact, you slide your fingers to your mouth. The first taste of his blood on your tongue feels charged, almost electric. Oh, this was definitely different from Angel’s blood.

Your lips wrap around your fingers and you begin to suck them clean. Crowley places one hand around the base of his cock and slaps your clit a few more times, groaning as pre-cum beads at the tip.

While Aziraphale tasted of peonies and ink, Crowley tasted of grapes and smoke with the obligatory iron that followed. God, they both tasted divine. Your tongue wrapped around your fingers and cleaned off the last traces. Your eyes flicked to the drop on your chest, which you swipe onto your forefinger and promptly suck clean.

“Oh, Crowley,” you moan. He’s got a wicked grin plastered across his features.

“Good, then, I take it?”

You nod, already starting to feel the effects of the blood in your system. Cells coming back alive, energy returning but there’s something else too. You’ve only had a few drops so you can’t be sure yet, but it almost feels like your blood is heating under your skin.

Your eyes flick to his dripping wrist, and you allow a soft “more, please?” to convey just how much you desired to taste him. Crowley acquiesces, presenting you with his slick wrist. You take it softly with both hands, pressing your lips to the cut and laving your tongue over it to collect any and all of the blood that has leaked out.

Once you’ve done this, you brush your fangs over the soft skin, completely lost to anything else at that moment other than the fact that you were finally feeding.

It’s as you begin sucking anew on the cut and properly feeding that Crowley sinks his cock inside you. You gap, eyes fluttering shut as he sinks all the way to the hilt. Aziraphale lets out a few breathy moans at the sight and adjusts himself so that it is now his knees and thighs locking yours open for your Demon.

This leaves Aziraphale’s hands free. He stretches them to get the ache out before caressing up and down your thighs and sides. He squeezes at your hips and whispers in your ear about how gorgeous you look like this.

All of a sudden it hits you- Crowley’s blood. Demon’s blood. Demon blood which was once Angel’s blood. You moan wantonly as the effects start to pile up. Crowley’s blood was an aphrodisiac just like Aziraphale’s, yes, but there was something different about it. The way it was electrically charged, singeing your nerves and setting them alight at the same time. The way it felt as though the blood might be roiling with heat in your veins. Oh, this was definitely new. It was like… Crowley’s blood was just laced with pure sin. Or perhaps it was just pure unadulterated sin. Period.

All you knew was that your thoughts were fading into lustful madness, and you forced yourself to break away from his wrist long enough to let out a dangerously needy growl. Crowley arched his brow and pulled his hips back so he could slam them inside again.

Your mouth dropped open in pleasure, and the force of the thrust pressed you back against your Angel, who moaned loudly in your ear. You reached behind you with one hand to pull at Aziraphale’s hair. You couldn’t see it, but given the look Crowley had on his face, the Angel was making an expression that could easily have been branded as pure lust. The whimper that followed also gave you that impression.

Once the shock of Crowley’s movements had passed, you pulled his wrist back to your lips. You grazed your fangs over a section of skin that was unharmed and waited for Crowley’s permission. Sure, the cut was there, but there was nothing quite like the feeling of flesh splitting beneath your fangs. It satisfied that primal urge like no other.

Crowley nodded and his hips stuttered with pleasure as you bit down. He moaned, his other arm wobbling as he tried to keep himself up as you started feeding in earnest. That might have something to do with the venom that is secreted from your fangs when you feed. Nothing toxic, of course. It was just meant for numbing the pain felt from feeding and replacing it with pleasure, changing what the nerves picked up so that your prey wouldn’t struggle to get away.

After all, why would they if your bite was blinding ecstasy?

Crowley thrust his hips again and set a harsh pace, grunting with pleasure as you fed off him and clenched your pussy around him. You were growing more desperate the more of his blood you drank, blood fizzing in your veins, crackling at your nerves.

“You’re both so gorgeous like this, my darlings,” Aziraphale said softly, skating the tips of his fingers over your hips to squeeze at the bone there possessively. You whined around Crowley’s arm.

Aziraphale’s fingers trailed further along your skin, coming to rest on your clit. He could feel where the two of you were connected and felt around Crowley’s cock as he pounded inside you. That coil was winding tighter in your core, and as Aziraphale began to circle your bundle of nerves, you wondered just how long you were going to last.

Crowley’s blood was sparking inside you, and every tight rub of Aziraphale’s fingers on your clit felt like it was almost too much. It felt as though the raw endings of your nerves were exposed and exploding with every touch.

Without warning, you came screaming, loud wails of pleasure as your body jerked between them. Aziraphale’s legs tightened on yours, keeping you from snapping them closed from the overstimulation.

“Oh, fuck-” Crowley grunted as you clenched down tight on him. He fucked you through the orgasm, not letting up for a moment. And you realised with horror that it had done nothing to quell the ache inside you. In fact, if nothing else, you were desperate for more.

“Harder-” you grunted, abandoning Crowley’s wrist to reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The Demon complied, snapping his hips up against you harder, setting a rougher pace than before. With his other hand free, he was now able to balance himself properly on the bed and get a more comfortable rhythm going. “Fuck, please- harder-”

Crowley chuckled breathily in your ear, nipping at the skin just below it. Aziraphale then slapped your clit without warning, causing you to arch off the bed by the hips and shriek. The Angel laughed lovingly from behind your other ear.

“Oh dear, I rather think she likes that too, don’t you, Crowley?”

Crowley groaned as you clenched down on him once again as Aziraphale repeated the motion.

“Fuck, Pet,” Crowley managed. “Oh, you love being between us like this, don’t you?”

You whimpered, mouth dropping open as you got closer to another orgasm. Your thighs were twitching under Aziraphale’s almost uncontrollably.

“Oh, you do,” Crowley mocked. “You’re so full up on the taste of me that you can’t stand anything other than our cocks on you, fucking you-” You were nodding desperately, scratching your fingers down his back. Crowley was a little bit of a masochist and made sure to never miracle away or let the marks heal for a day or so after you’d given him some so he could enjoy the sting a while longer. He was going to enjoy seeing these in the morning, that was for sure.

“Are you goi-nngh- fuck, going to cum, darling? Already? Poor little thing. Go on, then- cum for us again.”

Your back arches as another orgasm rips its way out of you, more powerful than the one before. You don’t know how to function as the pleasure tears through your nerves like wildfire. You cry out before biting down on the junction of Crowley’s neck. Not to feed, but just to stifle yourself.

Crowley shouts, hips stuttering forward as he finally finishes too, ropes of cum painting your inner walls. He’s panting and burying himself as deeply as he can inside you. The Demon rocks his hips softly against your hips, riding out his pleasure.

You’re whimpering and keening, desperate for more. Crowley must give the Angel a suggestive look, who softly unhooks your legs from his own and starts pressing kisses down your neck, hand coming up to squeeze at your breast.

“My dear, would you be ever so kind as to allow me up?” Aziraphale asks you. You groan with the effort of removing yourself from his chest. It’s a lot of work after having been fucked so thoroughly, but you do it happily for him.

Aziraphale slides out from behind you and Crowley takes his place. You settle back against the Demon and smile tiredly as he places his bony chin down on the top of your head.

Aziraphale spends a moment admiring the view before him before kneeling back down on the bed and positioning himself against your entrance.

“Can I?” He asks, knowing how exhausted and overstimulated you were. You nodded, gasping as Crowley pinches a nipple harshly. You may be tired, but the effects of his blood were still active in your veins.

Aziraphale spends his sweet time sinking inside you. He’s much thicker than Crowley, and the stretch burns pleasurably as he slowly rocks his hips forward. You’re struggling not to squirm under him as he finally bottoms out.

“Crowley, be a dear-” Aziraphale swallows thickly as you clench around him, swollen walls making you feel even tighter than usual. “Wrap that pretty hand around her neck for me?”

“Oh, as you wish, Angel-” Crowley replies, bringing the hand that wasn’t pinching and tugging at your abused nipples to rest on your throat. You whimper and raise your jaw to give him more space. He chuckles knowingly and gives you a quick squeeze.

Aziraphale must like the way that makes you twitch if the way he whimpered was anything to go by.

“Please- Zira, I need you,” you pant, hips now beginning to attempt to rock against him. He moans and thrusts his hips shallowly into you. You gasp, though the intake of air is stolen from you as Crowley tightens his hand once again, cutting off any and all airflow.

Aziraphale can’t hold out any more and begins to snap his hips back and forth, delighting in the way your tummy twitches with the motion. You swear you can feel your clit throbbing and twitching too.

Crowley loosens his grip to allow you to suck half a breath in before taking the choice away again. Now, as a vampire, you don’t technically need to breathe, but old habits die hard, and breathing was still second nature to you, even after all this time.

“Oh, that’s it, Pet,” Crowley says, squeezing your breast with the other hand. “Looking so edible for us, aren’t you?” Aziraphale moans at the Demon’s words, and Crowley tuts.

“Don’t worry, Angel- I haven’t forgotten about you. Pretty thing, isn’t he? Likes to think he’s so innocent, doesn’t he? Did you know,” he pauses for effect, and you can feel the wicked grin from behind you. “This whole thing was his idea. Oh, I know- doesn’t seem like our dear old ‘Ziraphale.”

Aziraphale blushes dark pink, grabbing onto your hip to fuck into you harder. You’re watching him with rapt attention. He does look so pretty like this, so perfect. Angelic. Not that this is a surprise, of course.

“Crowley-” Aziraphale warns halfheartedly. “Please-”

Crowley releases your throat. You suck a deep breath in and reach down to rub at your clit, feeling pressure starting to build once again.

“Please what, Angel? You know you love the praise. Did you know,” he trails off in your ear. “Managed to make him cum untouched from praise once.”

You chuckle airily, though it breaks off into a long moan at the way Aziraphale squeaks and his hips snap forward. You would have to see if that particular event could be replicated.

“Mm, that was a fun day,” Crowley says almost conversationally. “Angel, are you close?”

Aziraphale nods jerkily, fingers leaving red marks on your skin as he begins to chase his orgasm. You know it won’t be long, given how much he had been denied and teased before. You rub your clit faster, in time with his thrusts.

Crowley laughs darkly and tightens his fingers on your throat again. Your head jerks back. A whine attempts to escape you, but can’t do so with the grip Crowley had on you. Aziraphale moans loudly as he reaches ever closer to that peak.

“Alright, now, Pet,” Crowley growls when he can tell the both of you are getting close. You can feel his cum inside you being forced out around Aziraphale’s cock as he fucks you ever deeper. “You’d better cum soon because I won’t be letting go until you do.”

If you had still been human, you might have had bruises on your skin where his fingers pressed into you. You moaned, hips jerking and thighs twitching. There was pressure building in your belly, though it didn’t quite feel as it had before. This was different- oh. Oh.

Your legs jerked as the pressure built up and burst. Liquid gushed out as you squirted onto Aziraphale’s cock and thighs. The Angel let out a sound of surprise before thrusting once, twice ore and cumming, mixing his cum with the Demons’ inside your hole.

You realised that Crowley had let your throat go and was trailing his fingers up and down your cheek comfortingly. This was definitely new. You had never squirted before, and when you managed to open your eyes to look at the Angel, he looked at you with dark, lustful reverence.

“That- you- that was glorious,” he managed to supply. You chuckled tiredly and pulled him in for a kiss. The Angel pushed his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours and you whimpered as the act made your clit twitch with interest.

“My, my,” Crowley said, tilting your head to give him a chaste kiss too when you were done kissing Aziraphale. “You are a dirty thing.”

You sagged against him, muscles giving out. Oh, you were going to sleep well after this.

“I think,” Aziraphale panted, pulling a miracle down from above to clean up the three of you and the bed. “We ought to do that again at some point.”

You groaned and pulled the Angel down on top of you, who let out a startled ‘oof’ sound. You giggled and encouraged the two of them to snuggle with you.

“Mm- sometime,” you agreed, already feeling yourself giving in to the very human impulse of sleep. “Later.”

“Get some sleep, dear,” Aziraphale said softly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Mm- we’ll be here,” Crowley added, pressing another kiss to the top of your head.

And you did, and they were.

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yuri-is-online · 1 year ago

Text

There's Mud in Your Eye (Leona and Deuce x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, i am out of creative ways to describe these: it's Cheka and Mamma Spade. Slight references to the White Rabbit event. If you liked this please check out the previous parts on my master list here.

Leona

A very confused, very important looking little lion is standing in front of you, attempting to mimic Leona's judgey thinking face. Five year olds lack the smarmy bitterness required to truly pull off the look, but you have to admit, it is pretty cute.

"Um, do you think he ran away from his guards again?" Grim whispers, painfully loud and without nearly enough concern. "Do you think we'll get in trouble if we can't get him back to his retainers?" The scenario feels completely unreal, but then again so does standing in front of royalty. Who are you again anyway? Just some weirdo who is going to have to apologize to their loved ones for taking so long to come home because you couldn't sneeze in another world without bumping into royalty. While you are busy considering whether or not it would be considered child neglect to sprint away from the little guy, Cheka finally finishes his thought process, letting out a contented "hmmm" as he points decisively at you.

"You," he says with all the authority of an extra on a children's tv show "are not Unca."

Well.

That was not what you were expecting. Your mind draws a lengthy blank as Cheka grins up at you in a surprisingly catlike manner seemingly very pleased with himself.

"How did it take ya so long to figure that out?" It has to be a truly stupid question to get Grim's voice to crack.

"Well I decided I was gonna sneak up on Unca." A terrible idea really but who are you to refute royalty. "So instead of running around and askin I decided to just focus on his scent! But I found two places he could be so I just decided to go to the closer one."

"Whatdya mean?" Grim takes a deep breath and interrupts his train of thought with a hard gag you really hope is dramatic. "Oh wow he ain't wrong, you really smell like that lazy bi-" You manage to muzzle him before he can teach Checka too many bad words. You wonder if it would be rude to sniff yourself in front of a literal prince, Cheka's pleased little tail swish doesn't help.

"Can you please take me to Unca?" he asks, so very sweetly looking up at you like you're the shiniest star in the night sky. It hurts to disappoint him.

"Uh I'd love to little guy but I'm not too sure where he is..." you really hope Cheka can't tell just how nervous you are. Crowley did give you a schedule, but it wasn't super detailed, just a vague set of notes about the various events going on.

"Then I'll just stay here with you!" He says, with a surprising degree of authority. "Unca's scent is really strong so I'm sure he'll show up soon!"

''I don't think that's a good idea little guy." You just called the Crown Prince of the Sunset Savannah a little guy. Which he is but you are pretty sure there's a time period where that would have gotten you executed, and you can only pray it's not now. The intense look of what you assume are Cheka's guards running up the main street is not helping with that.

"Your highness! Please don't run off like that." The man seems wary of scolding the prince, but he has no qualms about staring you down. "You! What is your name and who do you think you are to be speaking so casually to-" He cuts himself off, bluster fading as he takes a deep breath and starts staggering away from you. Well not you per se, you realize as you turn around and see an extremely intense looking Leona behind you.

"Stop blamin' your inability to do your job on other people." Leona's voice is slow, authoritative enough that you almost forget he's supposed to be the second prince. The guards do too, until Cheka jumps away from them onto Leona's shoulders and shatters the illusion just a bit.

"Unca! Unca! You're gonna show me the spelldive fields right?" Cheka nuzzles his Uncle's cheek while Leona tries his best to get away.

"I thought you were gonna stay with Prefect." He grumbles.

"We can come with." You say before you fully realize what you're saying surprised at how ok you are with the offer. Cheka lights up, jumping away from his Uncle to nuzzle up to you. Leona's gaze softens ever so slightly, even if he immediately breaks eye contact and starts walking away from you.

"You're welcome to come if you can keep up." You try to convince yourself you follow him just to get away from the guards, but there's a spring in both your steps no one is brave enough to act like they notice.

Deuce

"Yuu! And Grim too! Lucky me I thought I was going to be stuck looking for my kids for at least another hour." Dilla Spade cheerfully says, her decision to refer to you as her child momentarily distracting you from the fact Deuce is nowhere to be seen. She seems to have been granted a day off from work, her usual delivery uniform ditched in favor of a very mom like set of old sweatpants and an old athletic jacket with a logo you assumed belonged to Deuce's middle school.

"Mama Spade!" Strange feelings aside you are extremely happy to see Dilla, and happier still when she perks up just a bit at your calling her mom. "Did Deuce forget to text you again?"

"Not exactly," she says with an affectionate sigh "I caught up with him a bit earlier but he ran off to find his Housewarden. He really wanted to introduce us but said it might be a bit difficult to make that happen."

"Yeah..." Grim says as you exchange a look "Riddle's a really busy guy."

"Well never mind then." She says with a shrug. "What's up with you? Deucey tells me all sorts of things, but it's never the full truth." You shouldn't be surprised Dilla knows something is up. Honestly it's a wonder any of the students with a half way decent relationship with their parents hasn't been yanked out of this school already.

"Nothing too bad I hope?" You say, hopeful that Dilla will give you something to work with so you don't confess to something too wild. She laughs.

"I'm a mom, worrying's part of the territory." You breathe a sigh of relief, though you can't help but wonder just what Dilla's reaction would be to knowing Deuce had fought four overblot phantoms. Would she be proud? You hope so, he deserves it. "I keep telling Deuce to invite you to spend summer with us but he's really hung up on doing things the 'honorable way.'" You try your best not to fluster.

"What's that even mean?" Whines Grim, probably thinking more about the donuts you had while visiting Clock Town more than the implications kicking around in your mind. "offerin' to help me and my hench human out is honorable enough!"

"It really is," you try not to come off as too eager, it would be really nice to spend the Summer somewhere that wasn't Ramshackle, even if it would hurt the ghost's feelin-

"Is Deuce waitin' till he can afford a ring or somethin'?" Grim says, crossing his little paws and sticking your words in your throat. Dilla winking at the little monster with a conspiratorial grin makes you choke. "He is isn't he! Hmph, figures. Well he knows he won't get the Great Grim's permission!"

"Grim!" You squeak.

"Well you are a bit young," Dilla says "but you have my blessing prefect."

"I- I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding-" you don't want to get anyone's hopes up, you aren't even dating Deuce, you want to say that you don't like him that way, but the lie dies on your lips as a familiar duo comes into view just behind Dilla.

"MOM! oh and PREFECT!!!" The overwhelming joy in Deuce's eyes contrasting with the smug amusement of Ace makes you feel just a bit more at home, despite the awkwardness of the situation. You can almost convince yourself that he's running up the road on the double just to see you.

"Think of it this way," whispers Dilla, firmly placing a hand on your shoulder in a comforting and not forceful way "you're family, and you always will be no matter what label gets slapped on things. Though I am pretty sure you can guess Deuce's preference."

You can, or at least you can hope.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #deuce spade x reader #i am so sorry this took forever i have been playing baldur's gate #i had one for epel but i didn't like it so it's getting re written

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