#I need to act this out…for science of course

[moonbaby26]

Title: Blood and Feathers

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Pairing: Rosinante/Corazon x Fem!Reader x Doflamingo

Warnings: language, non con, dub con, size difference, reader is cheated on (not by the brothers), reader is stalked/abducted, reader is double teamed, vaginal sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, animal instincts/behaviors, blood, violence, toxic relationships, breeding kink

Synopsis: Set in a modern!AU. You are an avian veterinarian dealing with a recent life upheaval. Years ago, you also had a traumatic experience with creatures mainstream science still denies as even existing. But memories of that night were soon buried, relegated to your dreams alone. Or so you had thought.

A/N: This oneshot was inspired both by @tuquidflamingo‘s gorgeous Harpy!Doffy fanart for Doffytober2024 Day 24:Mythical Here, and @froggiewrites’s terrifyingly sexy Siren!Doffy fic Mating Call Here. I needed more bird!Donquixotes after seeing those works and could not restrain myself. This was originally intended as monster/horror themed for Halloween as well, but I’m way late to the party (as usual 😅).

Fic Masterlist

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“You poor darling. The boys haven’t been very nice to you have they?” You frowned to your newest patient. A female dove, slightly fearful in your grip as you held her gently from behind in a small towel within your hand.

The hallmarks of overbreeding were evident to you in all the missing feathers near the back of her head. 

Some single minded Lotharios within her previous enclosure had plucked her practically raw while doing their overeager business on her from behind no doubt.

“Remember. Men are all the same, sweetheart. They only care about one thing.” You mumbled, not particularly worried of how bitter you still sounded while you felt her chest and keel bone next. That bone’s prominence signaling her being rather underweight to your additional concern. 

Not that you’d been eating much either, or maintaining a healthy mindstate at all. Just like hers, your life had also gone quite to shit recently.

Just two days ago you’d come home early, only to find your boyfriend of the last few years balls deep and moaning within the newest assistant from his law office.

And you’d thought he really was going to have a heart attack when he’d finally seen you standing there.

But his new young lover had only smiled, cool as anything.

“Oops.” She’d said, still on top of your fiancé and almost sweetly staring over her shoulder at you.

Her long fingernails had left trails of raised scratches all over his chest and sides. Which you’d seen so distinctly as he’d sat up in a panic to plea to you.

Of course, there would have been no way he could have hidden that evidence later even if you hadn’t caught them in the act. 

As you’d dragged suitcases out and begun throwing what you could into them, he’d had the gall to swear to you too that it was both his first and last time with her. 

He’d even tried to blame her, as if he’d had no say in it all.

But you’d just taken your engagement ring off and thrown it so hard it’d ricocheted off of the wall and rolled to God knew where.

To whatever void your trust and self confidence had now plummeted into most likely.

Yet the apartment lease had only been in his name. So in just that single afternoon, you’d gone from daydreams of a winter wedding to officially homeless and with mascara running down both sides of your face. All with strangers staring at you on your march of shame back through the parking garage.

You didn’t even tell anyone afterward. Because you’d had no one close enough to you to tell.

You were living out of a hotel room now. Nowhere to land as of yet as you’d still went to your normal veterinary job uptown during the day. And to this volunteer time at the avian rehab center just outside of the city each night. 

The only consistently listening ears for you now were sick and troubled birds. Either domestic seizures from hoarding and animal cruelty cases like this dove, or sometimes just wild raptors and waterfowl that’d had an acute turn of bad luck.

You’d seen it all at one point or another. But every day was different. And yet only more of the same all at once.

Until tonight, when it absolutely wasn’t.

You were here alone. Staying much later than you normally would, because the company of the birds was still better than hearing your neighbors arguing through those thin hotel walls that were now all you had to go back to.

Besides this dove’s occasional cooing, and your own words of continued self pity, you also had a constant rotation of true crime podcasts, murder mysteries, and tales of the supernatural droning on from your phone still on the counter. 

It was very fitting for a rainy, cold night like this one.

And in a bit of a playful holiday segment in between those longer tales, it was then some of those two sentence horror stories.  

The narrator had just read one of your favorites in their best Vincent Price impersonation. 

“The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. 

There was a knock on the door.”

You smirked of course. Your imagination flooding with all that unnamed man’s possible fates and an idea that he may actually deserve them now, before the lights abruptly went out above you.

Both you and the dove had startled with that plunge into darkness. But under the dim glow of the battery backup lights which came on after, around the fire exit signs, you quickly silenced those additional horror teases from your phone.

“Maybe they missed a power bill again.” You’d told the dove softly as you’d returned her to the temporary holding cages. 

Funding was always tight for a non profit like this. People just weren’t as giving when sick vultures and irritable corvids didn’t end up as marketable as sad kittens on the donation commercials.

But, this could also be the universe’s sign for you to give in and go home.

Wherever the hell home was supposed to be now.

You’d pulled your exam gloves inside out, trashing them before washing and drying your hands.

A coat, purse, and umbrella were all you had to gather before walking into that now near pitch black hallway.

There was only the slight squeak of your shoes on the linoleum floor for those few precious seconds of normalcy you’d had left. 

And then came the first metal bang.

Like a knock.

And the next one which followed it. 

Echoing through the darkness before you.

Something heavy and urgent was slamming against the metal door which led to the rear parking lot.

The parking lot that backed up to the woods. Where your car and thereby only way back to the city now was.

Even then, the logic in you still refused to fully slip however. Though your heart did beat far faster in your confusion.

You could hear many birds beginning to rustle in their cages in other rooms, bothered by the new noises as well.

You wanted to comfort them, but you knew they wouldn’t understand.

Did you even understand?

You still had your phone of course. You could call the police and just wait here, locked inside if you were actually that afraid.

But outside of the city limits like this, response time would be awful unless you’d be lucky enough that a random patrol car may be nearby.

You didn’t want some judgmental cop showing up thirty minutes from now, to look at you like you were a complete idiot if you said just being in the dark with strange noises was enough to have you needing rescue.

Your hand was already in your purse though, fingers around the beveled case of your phone as everything went silent again.

And then you heard the door pull open.

That door was an exit only. If another volunteer had forgotten something or come back this late for any other reason, they’d have taken the side path up to the front and unlocked the front door instead just as you had a couple of hours ago.

There was no key to the back door. It was always locked on the outside.

Unless the latch had just been broken off.

Which would explain the banging.

Your heart was moving into your throat by then as you’d sidestepped into the nearest room in the dark.

It was this facility’s single operating room.

And by some grace above you didn’t run into anything. You squatted with your back to the wall as you fumbled to pull your phone fully from your purse.

You couldn’t remember if the emergency dispatch in this area was setup to accept text messages like they could in the city.

If you spoke into this silence to call someone, it’d be the equivalent to screaming though.

Your hands were shaking as you typed instead.

And it was additionally cruel really.

Because your mind hadn’t yet overwritten years worth of habit, even as much as he’d hurt you.

You found yourself texting your ex.

<break in. call police. the rehab. help>

Your fingers moved faster than you thought you’d ever commanded them to then. You’d hit send and watched as that message changed to delivered.

And then…

You heard that stupid trill of his phone from the hallway. 

That custom alert you’d heard far too many times to count as his phone had always gone off at all hours from important clients in the duration you’d been together.

Your brain stuttered.

And you heard a female’s laugh.

“Oh, that is embarrassing…” Said the somehow familiar female voice. It was equal parts amusement and mockery now. “She’s still here alright.”

And then a man whose voice you did not recognize, called your name outright before you could think any further. “Please, (Y/N)…there’s no reason to make this harder than it has to be. Please just come out. We’re not going to hurt you.”

But the woman quickly disagreed with him. “No. He said we could do this however we needed to. We’d still be outside in the rain if it was all up to you.”

“Be silent. I’m trying to listen.” The man retorted, yet with his voice lowering to match her own irritation.

“Hmm…no. Not needed. I already smell her.” Came her even sharper response after just another moment. 

And you heard something clicking on the tile at that, faster than you could believe as it ran closer.

“Monet!” The male voice was right behind it though, dropping into a range more akin to a snarl before a shadow came bursting through that open operating room door towards you.

You knew her name.

In the emergency lighting you only had a moment to see a glimpse of her once beautiful face too, contorted into a ferocity more akin to a rabid animal before she lunged down to meet you at your still crouched position. 

Her slender hand had closed around your airway as if it were all second nature.

Fingernails too sharp to be real dug in as she forced your back onto the ground.

You were choking. And staring up into the now wild eyes of your ex-fiancé’s young assistant.

Monet.

The girl he’d fucked right in front of you just two days ago.

But then she was gone. Swatted away as if she were nothing in one audible hit.

Your throat was still stinging, scratched but not wholly cut as you tried to sit up in a renewed rush of adrenaline.

“Just take her car and go goddammit! You’re going to tear this place apart if you can’t control yourself! This is exactly why I wanted you to wait outside!” That male voice now had a clear source as well. He stood easily over the both of you. Still with his hand that had struck her splayed out like a claw.

What had to be light blond hair hung messily in his angry eyes as he took your purse and threw it at her.

“Take her car back to her hotel! Keep her phone, and make sure she didn’t call anyone!”

It was like he was scolding a child now, as if she had already been told a thousand times how this all should be.

But she was panting, smiling at him even as she did.

“I just want a taste…for all of our trouble.” She breathed.

And he stepped further between the two of you.

“I said no.”

She hissed through her teeth, but you saw him straighten up in response. His lean body seeming to tighten even more in the dark.

“Go!” And that order was truly a snarl from him that time.

Her eyes widened and she clawed the floor, briefly on all fours before scurrying back up. 

You could not see her feet clearly in the shadows, but you heard them.

That same clicking sound that had come from the hall before she’d run in.

Like talons moving across the ground.

You didn’t realize how much you were still shaking either before that man’s rock solid grip had grabbed you next.

You were pulled up by your arm.

And Monet was already gone with your purse, meaning she had your keys and phone as well.

She’d had your ex’s phone too.

Was he even alive any longer?

A sound of desperation left you as this tall man forced you down the hall and to that exit door they’d first broken in through.

You’d known it all had to be purposeful then. 

When the power had been cut, the two outdoor security cameras would have gone down as well.

No one would ever see him dragging you out of this door and into the rainy night.

They’d likely waste days interviewing people at the hotel instead once Monet returned your car there.

People you’d never even made eye contact with long enough for them to remember your face would just shrug and say they hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

No one would ever find your body.

“Walk.” His voice was still harsh as he’d hurried you outside, across the parking lot, and immediately down a muddied path into the woods.

It wasn’t clear which direction he’d even taken you in after just a few minutes.

In the dark, the trails all looked the same. And you could only watch as his clothes hung on him, dripping in the light rain.

The forest had gone silent save for that rain and the two of you. As all animals often quieted when an apex predator moved through.

He was oddly barefoot too, striding across the wet and fallen leaves. Just in pants and a t-shirt which now stuck across his broad chest.

“You really don’t remember me at all, do you?” He asked suddenly.

And you were still floundering mentally, trying to keep up with his long legs in the darkness.

“My real name is Rosinante.” He said in lack of any answer from you though. “We’ve met before.” And his large hand squeezed your arm tighter. 

He sounded like his frustration was only growing. His next words were especially accusatory. “If I’d had any idea you were still this close to the mountains…why didn’t you leave?”

His grip hurt, and you were stumbling often now, just trying to keep up.

“I don’t…I don’t know what you want.” You stammered, sounding so pathetic that it easily could have been a stranger’s voice in your ears then.

“I didn’t want him to find you!” He shot back. And at last his relentless pace began to slow. “I thought you moved away! Why the hell would you come back here!?”

And only then was something finally beginning to click within your memories. 

Because it was that desperation in his voice. 

Even if that tone was so much deeper now than the boy’s it reminded you of.

“…Cora?” You asked, your eyes wide while you stared up at this frightening man.

But he looked like something had just broken within him as you’d called him that. He’d stopped walking entirely, and you saw the true pain which crossed his face.

A lean, handsome face, with messy blond hair and rainwater dripping down in a way that could have easily been mistaken for tears.

Tears just like the young blond you’d found crying alone in the forest one summer.

The teen who’d said he didn’t know what to do any longer. And that he’d missed his parents so much and he just couldn’t keep pretending.

You’d thought he was a runaway. But he’d seemed so close to your own age, you hadn’t ratted him out to your aunt and cousins you’d been staying with in the mountain cabin that summer.

You’d snuck him food instead, and for those few months that summer break, you had hiked out to visit him every day at your and his secret rendezvous spot.

Eventually he’d said you could call him Corazon, or Cora for short. It meant “heart” in Spanish. The native language from wherever he had really fled from. And a nickname his late mother had given him.

Her little heart.

But he had a big one. Because he was so kind to you. Something you hadn’t been used to. And you’d both loved exploring and talking together for hours on end.

He’d even taught you a special whistle and song he’d said had also come from his mother and original home.

And so often at night you would hear that sound as you’d snuck from your bedroom to see him over and over again.

He’d known you loved birds by then. That you had dreams of going to school to learn more to help as many of them as you could someday.

But when you’d follow that special sound to find him at night, he’d also point right to where any owl or other raptor you’d missed during the day was hiding that he had found. 

Just so that you could see them too.

But near the end of that summer, you’d told him you’d have to be going back to the city soon. School would be starting again. You hadn’t finished high school yet. But you’d definitely come back next summer before going to college. You’d promised him that.

He’d seemed so sad regardless though, and that had hurt you too.

He’d even disappeared for a few days. You had gotten worried.

But on one of those last nights, you’d heard that special sound again.

So of course you had rushed to it.

But Corazon hadn’t been there.

A laugh had come from above you instead in the darkness.

One you could never forget just before you’d thought part of a tree had somehow fallen down on you.

Because your breath had been gone, a heavy weight impacting your chest with a crack of your ribs.

You couldn’t even scream. The splayed claws that had first struck your chest, had then spread for thin legs to straddle you as your back had hit the dirt.

And then it had bitten you.

Straight through your shirt and over the top of your shoulder. 

Your arms had come up uselessly as those fangs had sunken in.

Yet one of your hands had raked against thick, soft feathers, while the other had caught into spiked blond hair.

Utterly nonsensical in those contrasting parts between human and animal as its wings had encircled you.

But the creature had groaned at your every touch. With its long tongue then lapping at your blood running from the flesh it had broken.   

All while bony hips in torn capris pants had begun to move purposefully against your pajamas.

You hadn’t known what to do. 

You’d just remembered feeling warm.

But so afraid.

And confused.

And then a furious screech like no bird you had ever heard, came diving down like retribution from the sky. 

Loud enough that your attacker had had to look upward. His young face framed in your blood within the moonlight while he’d grinned to the heavens.

He’d been terrifying.

He’d also been beautiful.

But the two monsters had collided. Wings had scraped the ground, flapping violently while talons had tangled, striking each other’s bare torsos over and over as they’d rolled away from you.

The sounds had been fully inhuman, hissing and screaming with splatters of their blood then mixing with yours already on the ground.

Yet you’d been frozen amongst that raw violence.

“Go!” The one with the solid black wings had called out hoarsely though. While it’d tried to even briefly pin down the other one that had attacked you. That slightly larger creature whose wings had been both a dark pink and black.

The one that had still had pieces of your skin within his scowling maw.

“Please! Go and never come back!” The finality and heartbreak in that plea from your strange protector had also been seared into your memories that night.

The same voice that was now years older, with eyes that much sadder as Corazon still stared down at you in the present day.

“It is you.” You spoke in quiet shock. “You’re okay.”

“Why would you come back!?” He demanded again though, regardless of your sudden realization. “He saw your face in all those damned pictures Monet brought to him! He’s been trying to get leverage on everyone from the district attorney’s office all year. Information about their spouses, their kids, and…”

He sneered. His teeth had grit together. And you’d never seen that expression on Corazon.

He was so angry with you.

“You were really going to marry that spineless piece of shit from the D.A.’s office!? He sold you out in a heartbeat! Where you worked, where you were staying…everything. Doffy didn’t even have to touch him! He works for him now!”

Doffy.

His brother Doflamingo?

Corazon had told you long before the attack back then that he’d had an older brother.

The one he had really been running from when you’d first met.

But Doflamingo had caught up to you both in the end.

Even if you hadn’t fully understood it then.

Because you hadn’t known what Corazon truly was.

“I did move away, Cora. I got sent to freaking therapy because my family thought I was acting out for attention!” You blurted defensively.

They’d blamed you for sneaking out. Everyone had told you over and over that it’d only been a rabid bobcat, or a coyote, something like that that had gotten a hold of you that night.

The rabies shots that followed had been an awful regimen. But the shouts that you were just a delusional teenager making up stories about boys with bird wings had been even worse.

It’d been like being branded somehow. 

A permanent outcast.

And truly, you had been marked. The bite scars on your shoulder were still why you’d never wear a tank top or a swimsuit in public.

Yes, right after veterinary school you’d settled for the first man who hadn’t utterly despised you. Your standards had been that low.

But he’d still wanted to chase money and status, and to take his law degree back to the most populated part of the region to accomplish that.

So it was either break up or follow him back towards this place you’d once run from.

Yet how could you know any of this would ever actually find you again? That had been years ago.

Why would they even still remember you?

“You really don’t get it. Do you?” Corazon answered to that disbelief still on your face. “I swore to Doffy that if he let you go that night, I’d never run from him again. That I’d submit and serve him just the way he’s always expected the whole world to.” But he made another sound of disgust, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I really am. But I can’t stop him again. There’s nothing else he wants that he doesn’t already have this time.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I have everything I want.”

Your eyes had still been trained on Corazon, so you didn’t miss the way he immediately bristled at the new voice.

Cora stood at his full height then too, looking up to the branches above with hatred etched on his face.

And the monster laughed in response.

Just like that night as your insides twisted for the sound.

But also like Cora’s voice, that laugh was deeper now too.

Even more menacing.

They had both grown up. 

And now you were all together again.

You moved behind Corazon instinctively as Doflamingo leapt down from the branches overhead.

He landed, letting those massive wings spread as he straightened up.

It was a purposeful display of power and size you were sure while he grinned wide. 

The whites of his fangs reflected the remaining moonlight almost as much as that single glowing red eye of his. The other eye had been scarred, taken from him long ago.

“Do you know how rare it is for me to come play in the mud with the rest of you any longer?” Doflamingo taunted, crouching a little then to better see you around Corazon’s tall frame. 

Yet just like back then, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on that creature either. It was all tan skin, stretched tight over bones and muscle as you could see his every breath. 

He was only in dark pants that looked as if they were once the bottom of an expensive, tailored suit.

The mockery of the perfect male form really. Almost human in his silhouette, save for those grand wings where arms should have been, the tail feathers which ran out from the small of his back, and the thinner, scaled over legs coming from the bottom of his pants cuffs. With splayed feet ending in razor sharp talons which now sank into the wet ground beneath him.

His weight shifted, as if he didn’t much like that feel of the dirt either. “I’d prefer meeting in my penthouse on East 22nd these days.” Doflamingo taunted as proof of that observation. “But…I thought this reunion might get a bit messy. And we did just have new carpets put in.”

“I told you I’d bring her to the lakehouse though just as you’d asked. Why are you out here already!?” Corazon barked abruptly anyway, yet you could hear that edge of renewed fear already beginning in his voice.

Doflamingo’s head tilted slightly, that amusement only growing in response. “Well, I was feeling nostalgic. How long has it been, Rosi? Since you and I really got to catch prey together?”

“We’re not doing anything like that!” Cora growled immediately.

“Feh. Quit pretending, little brother. And quit hiding who you really are.” He scolded Corazon outright that time. “This is what you want too, and we both know it. You wanted it that night as well. I was only trying to show you where to start.”

“You were going to kill her!” Cora breathed out. His hands had tightened into fists.

“Not necessarily,” Doflamingo still corrected, condescending as anything. “Actually, I doubt I would have. Don’t you remember why?” And an even deeper cruelty began to seep out with those words.

Something Corazon apparently understood that you did not.

“Shut up!” 

“Oh, stop it. We were young, yes. But not in nature’s eyes. She wouldn’t have smelled that way if-“

“I said shut up!”

And Doflamingo laughed again. “You should have been guarding her better then. Instead of running away to hide just because she was ready that night. She came right to me after all…”

“Because you tricked her!”

“You taught her our call…why wouldn’t I use it?”

The special sound.

And Doflamingo did it suddenly then.

His expression changed.

You could mimic it, but not the way they did. It came up from deep within their chests. Like a music note in its pleasantness to you.

You’d ran from your bed many a summer night to find Cora making that sound for you deep within the woods.

And you’d never really wondered why no one else in the cabin had seemed to notice or wake like you did.

Like this song was only meant for you.

It made your body feel warm again. It made you want to follow.

“Stop it!” Cora’s anger snapped you from your daze.

And only then did you realize you had begun to walk towards his brother.

Doflamingo frowned as Corazon had pushed you back behind him once more.

“You are the shining beacon of utter futility, Rosinante. As always.” He tutted, pausing only a moment longer as he readjusted his rain dampened feathers with some frustration.

The weather had changed to more of a hanging mist now. And you knew it was still cold out here. But you didn’t feel it much anymore.

You were still trying to process what Doflamingo had tried to say. 

She wouldn’t have smelled that way if-

Had they been fighting over you because…

“Come on, Rosi. I’ve been more than fair here. Stop stalling and change already.” Doflamingo warned a bit more impatiently then, pulling those pink and black wings back closer towards his bare torso.

As if he was just now noticing the cold himself.

“But why does it have to be her!? You could have anyone…just…pick someone else, Doffy!” 

And even as a grown man now, you could still hear so much of that boy within Corazon.

Doflamingo evidently heard it too. “Quit whining!” Was what he snapped back. “I’m tired of seeing you mope around! Gutless and useless…this isn’t solely for me. Over and over you tell me how selfish I am. How cruel I am. And yet I put something desirable out for you, practically force feed it to you, and still you complain!”

“Because she has a right to choose her own mate!”

“What? Like that coward she was already living with? You’d let a rodent like him usurp what’s yours!?”

“She’s NOT property! She…she’s-”

“She’s tired of listening to this drivel.” Doflamingo sneered.

And it was all begun there in an instant.

In one lunge and kick, the elder brother had cast his physical lesser decisively to the side.

Your shield was gone.

And you were slammed against the then splintering bark of a tree as that wet maw opened right against your face.

The pain of the hit had made your body try to gasp. But it was as if Doflamingo had known that was exactly what you would do, with his tongue ready to make that his invitation as he forced his way in.

That tongue was warm and long as his wings closed around you.

You were trapped against the tree.

With the sheer heat of his body making you hypersensitive for every place he now pressed himself against you.

This was real.

This was going to happen this time.

And you tasted something metallic on his tongue aa well. A mix of blood and earthiness, warm and purposeful as his fangs bumped against your own far duller teeth.

He had made sure your mouth stayed open long enough as you felt something heavier than his spit slide into it.

“Swallow.” Doflamingo whispered, with his wet lips then still against yours while you felt that odd mixture hit the back of your throat.

You knew exactly what that was.

And what it meant to accept it.

Corazon called your name from somewhere so close as he’d stood again. But there was nothing else he could do.

You didn’t want Cora to be hurt either though. You didn’t want to ever have to leave him alone with his brother again.

But this was the price of staying.

And you were finally willing to make that deal.

Even if it now pleased the devil himself.

Doflamingo did growl in satisfaction too, his face briefly nuzzling down against yours once you had breathed in again, signaling your throat was clear.

He’d just fed you for the very first time.

A familial intimacy reserved only for those most dear.

“Change and hold her for me, Rosi.” Came the command to his brother which followed.

But you couldn’t look away from him. 

Doflamingo had straightened his back again. That red eye gleaming down at you.

“My little Corazon has missed you for so long…but I think he still needs convincing to let that out. So let’s help him. Together. You do want to help him…don’t you, my sweet?” And Doflamingo’s voice was taking on a bit of that special resonance again.

As he stepped back away from the tree, you did follow without being stopped this time. His soft wings grazed your sides. 

It felt so very good.

You wanted to bury yourself within the affection of those wings and never rise to see the light again.

But Doflamingo lowered them as he led you further.

Enough that you could now fully see Corazon again.

Corazon with that stricken look of devastation, as if he were watching your death in slow motion right before him. With his eyes even damper now than the weather could possibly be blamed for.

That stab of pain within you for your realization of what he was actually enduring carried even through Doflamingo’s spell on you then.

Your lip quivered. “It’s alright, Cora…” You pleaded softly. “Just do as he says…I’m okay.”

And Doflamingo chuckled.

The heartbreak between the two of you only seemed to fuel him further.

“See? She already forgives you. So show her what you really are. Let’s finish this.” Doflamingo ordered his brother even more darkly.

You both understood the threat behind those words if either of you should dare disobey him. 

Cora’s spirit was visibly crumbling.

Which made you feel all the more desperate to touch him, to comfort him.

You had missed him so much too, almost having started to believe that that part of your life really had been some sort of self induced hallucination over the years.

That you hadn’t experienced your very first feelings of romantic love with some blond, teen runaway in the woods one summer.

That you actually were just crazy.

“It’s okay.” You reiterated to him. And Doflamingo allowed you to reach for Cora.

The younger brother did take your outstretched hand for a moment too. He squeezed it tightly in his larger one as his eyes offered you a last look of misery.

But that grip was already changing. 

He had seemingly accepted your choice.

Corazon’s pale skin began to darken along his arms. The shirt he wore which had already been badly torn from Doflamingo’s earlier kick, he now used his other hand to rip off completely.

That fabric was discarded like trash as he then stood before you in only pants, the same as his brother.

And the prior lack of shoes made all the sense in the world as you saw the skin of his feet scaling over and those talons forming against the ground as well.

But the thing that captured your attention the most were the feathers as they began to bud. Piercing through the then fully darkened skin of his arms one by one as cartilage loudly popped and bones shifted.

Corazon’s arms elongated in time with his legs, that wingspan taking shape as he finally let go of your hand to spread those emerging flight feathers before they could touch the ground.

They were all solid black, yet with a rich shine as each moved into its place. His new tail fanned out behind him as well, hanging over the back top of his pants.

He was gorgeous, like a god even. 

But with glowing red eyes, fangs, and all as you noticed the submissive way he still kept his head down regardless once the transformation was complete.

Like his brother too, Corazon’s bare torso which remained, was all sinew and purpose. Every muscle so clearly defined as he breathed in deeply in his anxiety for your judgment.

But he was no monster to you now.

He was a miracle of nature.

“I like the real you.” You told him gently.

And you saw that true surprise flicker through Corazon’s eyes.

Yet Doflamingo’s impatience had to interrupt. 

With his equally long bird’s legs, the remaining distance was crossed in a single stride by him. Doflamingo pushed your smaller body roughly against his younger brother’s.

“Now, is everyone comfortable here?” Doflamingo grinned once more as Corazon caught you instinctively against his wings.

Both of them had to keep their legs bent, squatted really just to keep from towering over you in their true forms.

But neither seemed to mind the inherent size difference either.

By the predatory gleam in Doflamingo’s eye, he surely didn’t.

And before you could fully acclimate, your back was now against Corazon’s abdomen while Doflamingo pinned you from the front.

You were caught between them as wings flared and you heard Cora’s fangs hitting together above your head as he snapped at his brother in reflex, not wanting him this close.

“Hush.” Doflamingo’s lack of any real anger in response this time only highlighted the implied power difference which still remained between them. “I’ll put you back to the ground in an instant if you wish.” He reminded.

Yet it was all overwhelming to you already. Just the combination of their body heats and scents mixing together even before you felt that first movement of Doflamingo’s hips against yours.

“Put those dextrous little fingers to good use, sweet girl.” He ordered then, shifting his hips again to try and rub the waistband of his pants against your hand. “The stronger male always gets first rights of course.”

And you felt Corazon’s body tense with disgust. As if he was going to try and fight for your sake anyway.

Which you still couldn’t allow.

Because you knew he wouldn’t give up until Doflamingo had made him into a bloody pulp.

Corazon still cared for you that much.

Just as you cared for him enough to prevent that fate. 

“It’s alright. I do want this.” You said as loud as the brief rise of your own bravery would allow.

Corazon took a harsh breath.

But Doflamingo just pushed what was now an obvious bulge harder against your hand in response.

“Smart little thing.” He taunted as your fingers first made it to the button of his pants.

It was all you could do to keep your hands from trembling though as you undid that button and lowered the zipper to free what was growing for you beneath.

You didn’t know what to fully expect of course when dealing with someone that was neither fully man or beast.

Yet your intuition told you not to hesitate. That hesitation would only risk his violence returning. Doflamingo wanted you to touch him immediately as your fingers ran down that muscular V shape which dipped from his navel to his pubic region.

He wore no underwear. But there wasn’t any coarse hair there either to protect him. Just the slightest bit of downy underlayer as the pads of your fingertips found and massaged through it.

It was more wispy fluff than actual feather, soft as anything you’d ever felt as he leaned his head back in clear pleasure.

Of course, you couldn’t avoid the thick base which emerged from that softness either.

Further hardening so quickly as it kept rising up once freed.

His long cock bumped against your stomach in no time, thick and twitching once already.

It looked familiar enough, save for the damn size of it that you didn’t know how the hell you wouldn’t be injured by.

“Everything off. Now.” Doflamingo growled abruptly though. Foreplay not seeming to be a priority for him in this moment as you were then ordered to disrobe.

And Corazon had gone silent now. 

You could still feel the tension of Cora against your back before you began to undress.

Your own humiliation certainly didn’t matter to you by this point though. That would be the least of your problems as pieces of your clothing hit the wet ground one after another.

Coat, shoes, shirt, pants, and underwear were all quickly put out of the way. Until it was just you and all that you were in the cold night air.

“Don’t cover her. I want to see it all.” Doflamingo warned his brother immediately though as Corazon’s wings had tried to shift against you. 

And the little bit of room that Doflamingo had allowed you in order to undress was swiftly taken back as he now pressed you skin to skin as soon as he could.

“Yes…this is what we should have done years ago. If my little brother hadn’t been such a prude with a stick up his ass.”

Corazon growled lowly to that. 

But notably, he made no move to stop his brother this time as Doflamingo kept rubbing his cock against your skin. The head of it had begun to weep. Yet Doflamingo’s gaze had now focused onto that prominent scar on your shoulder.

The one his own fangs had previously given you.

“Did Rosi ever tell you that our kind can’t procreate on their own?” Doflamingo questioned teasingly then, seemingly at random as his tongue ran out over that scar, almost with a reverence while he licked your shoulder until it glistened with his saliva. “You see…if you breed two winged parents together, all they’ll have is miscarriages. But one winged parent and a human…”

“Doffy.” Corazon warned with his own wings still staying protectively close. “That doesn’t matter right now. Just don’t hurt her.”

“It’ll matter eventually.” Doflamingo contested with a lustful smirk.

And your knees were feeling weaker as the boys did this routine again. Falling into that lopsided codependency they had for one another, bickering even with you pressed right between them.

It was a toxic bond they shared and were so determined to now add you to.

Just like Doflamingo had first tried to back then.

But even he had gained some maturity in the time between. Evidenced by the way he first teased the head of himself at your already surprisingly wet entrance instead of just plunging straight inside.

Whether that wetness was your body’s attempt at self preservation or your own willful desire, you weren’t yet sure.

But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. That was clear as he finally began to slowly push his way in.

And when you made that first sound of pain, stretching too much almost immediately, Doflamingo actually paused.

The feathers of his wings ruffled. Somehow the brothers were now tolerating each other enough to not react when their wings bumped one another either.

Yet Corazon’s chest hummed against your back as you felt him bend to put his lips against your neck, near your ear in response to your pain.

“Relax…I’m here.” He promised, even then still trying to protect you.

And you exhaled, feeling that inner warmth once more. Corazon was using that special tone again, resonating through you as you rested your head back against him.

Cora was soothing you as his brother began to push again.

Your were fully walled in too. Corazon’s chest to your back, against him with your thighs spread for his brother. And Doflamingo in front, taking that offering, his legs bent enough for your hips to line up as he slid in deeper and deeper.

And both their wings were to your sides. They were holding you up together as Doflamingo at last bottomed out against your cervix.

You felt like he could have split you in two if he had wanted to.

But Cora’s song just continued, calming and satisfying as you stared up at Doflamingo while he let out a surprising whine with you clenched so tightly around his extraordinary cock.

“Oh…oh, fuck she feels so good.” Doflamingo breathed next. “Keep her calm…I have to move. Keep her just like this.” He was still instructing Corazon even as his sharp hips began to slowly, ever so slowly, slide back and then forward again. The skin of his cock was dragging against your insides.

And you shuddered. Everything felt like more than you could possibly take. 

But Doflamingo’s initial whine soon became moans. He was falling apart even faster than you as his wings closed tighter around you and his movements increased.

His feathers kept shifting, his pupil was dilating.

Yet as he almost grimaced in what appeared to be an abrupt brush with overstimulation, you had your very first inkling that they did not get to use these true forms often.

This was a rare intimacy. 

Maybe even completely unique for them.

The opportunity to be with a partner in their actual bodies. With all the heightened senses and raw feelings that must entail.

You were barely even a participant, and yet you were overwhelming Doflamingo as he slouched forward with his hips still pumping.

His chin was resting on one of your shoulders then, while Corazon’s was resting on your other from the opposite direction.

“I can’t even…hell, I can’t…” Doflamingo nearly laughed in disbelief.

And you felt him tremble all over as he thrust briefly harder, much rougher then as you cried out a little. But only for three or four more deep hits before his hips stilled abruptly.

The heat inside was immediate, spilling out into you as Doflamingo held himself in as close to the hilt as he could be.

But he was too big to be flush against you, just doing his best as he buried his face beside yours and you already felt his excess seed running out down your thighs to drip onto the ground.

The forest was so quiet again. Save for Doflamingo’s uneven breaths.

“Dammit…” He cursed quietly, sounding an odd mix of both placated and highly disappointed. “I need to try again. That wasn’t enough.”

But you were still aching, regardless of Doflamingo already softening within you from what he perceived as a premature release.

“No. You already came. It counts.” Corazon’s voice returned then and there however. His wings were trying to push Doflamingo’s further away.

And those wingtips were far more prehensile than a normal bird’s once Cora decided to just pull you away from his brother instead by your waist not long after. 

It made a lewd sound when Doflamingo’s wet cock slid out of you with that sudden increase in distance. Then hanging soft in a mess of both your fluids between his legs.

He glowered at Corazon as your warmth was removed from his body once more. 

And you feared they would now fight again.

Doflamingo did briefly bare his fangs. 

But Cora had turned you to face only him then as he moved his wings to push against the side of his own pants next.

You weren’t even done dripping from his brother yet. But you saw the full desire now in Corazon’s eyes.

He’d had to watch everything. 

And he had needs too.

Ones you were sure he had been too afraid to ever tell you up until tonight.

“Here.” You reached out, helping Cora as you tugged at his pants to slip them the rest of the way off of his hips.

Fair was fair.

What you did for one brother, you knew you had to do for the other.

Even if Doflamingo was now finding the concept of waiting for his second turn much more difficult than he’d originally envisioned. 

Corazon was wearing boxers. Ones that already looked a bit too tight for him just as you felt Doflamingo step back behind you.

Cora clearly bristled, not appreciating that. But you did your best to deescalate them again.

They had their own hierarchy and rules as all flocks did you were sure.

Doflamingo was the leader of them all without question. But his own neediness and vulnerabilities were far more apparent to you now.

It was a bold risk, and you didn’t move too quickly. But you did reach behind you then to massage your hand along Doflamingo’s hip and thigh. Acknowledging him at your back, and rewarding even his few moments of patience with physical touch.

Maybe that affection had surprised him.

He’d stilled again either way, and that was all the time that Corazon had needed to slide his own underwear down enough to uncover himself.

Your face felt flushed at the sight. 

Because Cora was already rock hard. Perhaps not the full length of his brother, but no less intimidating for you.

With Doflamingo still right there however, Cora didn’t hesitate. He wouldn’t lose this opportunity.

You gasped as Corazon pressed himself right into the wetness his brother had already made within you.

Your insides stretched and filled tight as anything all over again as Cora breathed your name and began immediately rocking his hips.

Doflamingo was then growling behind you in jealous response, so your hand had to move back between his legs to stimulate him too. 

You were fondling the older brother’s still softened shaft as he twitched it wantingly in your palm.

While the younger brother quickly fell into a deep rhythm inside of you, pumping your bodies together as nature had always intended.

It didn’t even feel wrong.

Because they both needed you.

And you needed them.

Or you would now.

And as Corazon scraped inside you just right, steady and sure, your orgasm was quickly building even while Doflamingo began to stiffen again within your hand.

You just stroked him harder in rhythm to his brother’s thrusts.

You could see the future already. 

There would be babies.

Multiple babies.

One mother, two different fathers. 

Nature was like that sometimes. Especially with a rare species that needed all the help it could get.

It’d just be easier to share the resources. To have two strong mates protecting you instead of only one.

Doflamingo was already getting ready to cum again too. You could hear it in his panting as he fucked your hand so roughly then.

But it was the combination of Cora’s steady pumping and Doflamingo’s desperate movements that finally sent you over the edge.

You felt your channel spasm around Cora, who repaid that pleasure immediately with a hard shudder as he released his own seed in powerful shots to mix with what you’d already received from his brother.

Corazon did get it all in, just barely though before those pink wings were grabbing you backward abruptly. 

Yet again you were pulled off of a wet cock that had just finished as Doflamingo slid himself right back into your now fully swollen folds from behind.

His wings pushed you, then making you bend forward at the waist so he could fully mount you from behind this time. You didn’t even have the chance to recover from the orgasm you’d just had before Doflamingo was pounding you so hard against your ass.

You were panting too, trembling for the contrast of his soft wings holding you up on the outside while he utterly wrecked you on the inside.

“Come on…I need you to cum on me too…I’m not stopping this until you do.” Doflamingo threatened you. Evidently not at all missing your visible orgasm had with Corazon inside you moments prior.

Yes, everything was always going to be this way too you were sure. Doflamingo would have to have the final word, the final touch. He might share only with his brother. But everything still had to start and end with him.

He was the dominant male of this territory.

“Doflamingo…” You tried his name in some very minor bid for mercy. You couldn’t think straight enough to will another orgasm back out so soon.

But you had to.

You glanced back up towards Corazon, who still seemed a bit dazed from his own release.

But his eyes did meet yours, even as his brother now fucked you raw from only footsteps away.

Yet, it wasn’t the full sadness from earlier in Cora’s stare any longer. You saw real lust for you still so heavy in those red eyes then. That look which said he would also love to do this to you if you’d only ask him for it.

Corazon would do anything you wanted him to going forward.

And that thought was enough to bring the coil of warmth into your stomach again. 

You were going to be fine. You would survive.

You’d never have to sit in a room alone again either and worry about who or what future awaited you on the other side.

Because your monsters were already here. And they had chosen you.

You moaned loudly. Both of these men in your mind, together again while that pleasure sent your body into ecstasy one more time.

You came with that cry for Doflamingo as he orgasmed gladly in return to flood your poor channel yet again with his seed. 

Your abused cunt was dripping and your body shaking before Doflamingo pulled you fully back against his chest, wrapping his warm wings around you protectively.

His voice was a bit uneven, matching his rough breathing now. “Let’s go home then. All three of us. Tonight and forever.”

And Corazon smiled slightly at last to that rare sentiment. A remarkable expression in its own right. 

Because maybe Cora was finally realizing as you had that the worst was not truly the worst.

Doflamingo wasn’t going to let anything happen to you now.

This deal had been made and the ink was already dry.

Cora used his feathers to awkwardly pull up his underwear and pants before he idly began collecting your clothing for you soon after.

“You’re going to need bigger beds then, Doffy. Both at the lakehouse and the penthouse.” Corazon said quietly as he looked back to the two of you who were still recovering.

Doflamingo smirked, not disagreeing this time. “That’d be much easier than arguing whose bed she’ll get in each night, wouldn’t it?”

You’d lay with them both of course.

But Doflamingo nipped your ear for good measure too as his feathers rubbed more possessively across your abdomen.

“Yes. We’ll have quite a nest going on soon enough.” He grinned wide in anticipation of this truth. “Little ones never like to sleep alone either after all.”

——————————

End.

Thank you for reading! ❤️🎃

A/N: The two sentence horror story quoted in the beginning is “Knock” by Fredric Brown.

[httpvomitello]

Hi would it be okay to request a Rottmnt with a female reader who makes pastries or maybe works a some kind of pastry shop 🍰

Hello, hello! Hope you like a it ~ ♡♡♡♡

Pastry Shop *⁠.⁠✧

Shows up to your pastry shop all the time (not when people are inside, of course)

He’s not even subtle about it—he acts like it’s a casual visit, but everyone knows he’s there for you (and maybe for the pastries)

“Oh, hey, Y/N. Fancy meeting you here… at your workplace… again.” Cue his cheeky grin

Always “samples” whatever you’re baking

He’s the type to ask, “Do you need a taste-tester? Because I’m highly qualified.”

Pretends to have sophisticated taste in desserts. “Hmm, the balance of sweetness in this éclair is truly exquisite.”

But really, he’ll eat anything you make

“For me? Your favorite customer? C’mon, don’t act like I’m not your favorite.”

At first, he’s a little shy about coming by

But once he realizes how much you love baking, he’s all in

He always compliments your creations, even if it’s just a simple cupcake. “This is amazing, Y/N. You’re really talented.”

Buys way more pastries than he can eat, just to support you(he started saving money just for that)

His brothers constantly find random boxes of cookies and cakes in the lair

Always offers to help you carry heavy supplies, like bags of flour or crates of ingredients

“No way you’re lifting that on your own. Let me.”

You caught him sneaking one of your pastries into his pocket for later, and now he’s forever known as “the pastry thief.”

Doesn’t understand the appeal of pastries at first

He’s more of a “function over flavor” kind of guy, but he’s fascinated by the science behind baking

Spends a whole afternoon in your kitchen asking questions about how different ingredients work. “Wait, so gluten development affects the structure of bread? Fascinating.”

Invents gadgets to make your life easier, like a faster mixer or a temperature-controlled rolling pin

“With this, you’ll have the most consistent dough in the city!”

You catch him sneaking into your shop late at night to try and reverse-engineer your recipes

When you confront him, he denies everything. “I was… conducting research!”

His favorite thing to order is whatever you made just for him

He insists it’s purely because of your skill, but you know he loves the personal touch.

The biggest hype man for your baking

Every time he tries something you’ve made, it’s “THE BEST THING I’VE EVER TASTED.”

Wants to help in the kitchen but always makes a mess

Flour ends up everywhere, and you have to shoo him out before he burns something

Calls you “his personal pastry chef,” even if you’ve told him a million times that you bake for everyone, not just him

Has a massive sweet tooth and keeps begging you to make custom desserts based on his wild ideas

“Okay, hear me out—pizza-flavored cupcakes!”

Brings your pastries back to the lair and brags to his brothers about how talented you are. “Y/N’s the best baker in the world! You guys are missing out.”

[thinking1bee]

The absolute worst part about writing smut and being single is that there’s no one there to help you act out the scene you’re writing…

[obsessedwhyyes]

A Sound Hypothesis

Part 1 of The Scientific Method series.

Summary: Inexperienced in the ways of love, you often find yourself labelled an overthinker. But then again, you are a scientist. When your incredibly beautiful travelling companion proposes a night you'll never forget, suddenly you're left wondering, are you really ready for this? Ever the scientist, you propose an experiment, and get more than you bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4762 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader Content: Act 1, smut with plot, inexperienced nerd reader, making out, oral sex (giving and receiving), hand job, cock worship, blowjob and handjob instruction (ie. Astarion teaches you how to pleasure him).

A/N: Can't believe this got to nearly 5k words, good lord. Actual smut comes in half way through, but it's still rather spicy before then. Also, writing handjobs is hard.

The events of the night prior felt like a dream, yet you remembered each moment vividly.

“I’m beginning to like the whole package, honestly,” he had purred, “and you clearly like me too, so I was thinking…”

You looked into his eyes as he gazed confidently, hungrily into yours. There was only him in this moment. Well, him and the quickened pulse of your heart pounding in your ears. You were certain he could hear it.

“We could take an evening to ourselves. Get to know each other a little more intimately.”

But you were struck with a hit of nerves then. You had lived a sheltered life before your abduction. A wizard and a scholar, your pursuits had been in the sciences and that of perfecting your craft, rather than in stolen moments of lust with beautiful strangers. Not to say you hadn’t experienced a few stolen kisses, however. But to give oneself entirely to another - that was a very different, much more intimidating affair. Yet there was no denying the spark that flickered between the two of you as you spent your days and evenings together, and that spark ignited a growing ache within you that lingered each night you retreated to your bedroll.

“I want to, Astarion. Gods, I really want to, but I’m…”

You hesitated and tore your eyes from him; fiddled with your fingers for a moment.

“You’ve never done this before,” he finished, causing you to look up suddenly from your busying hands.

“I had my suspicions. I’d have already bedded you twice over otherwise.”

You could only laugh, not only at the sheer audacity of his remark, but because of course he knew. Gods, he could probably smell the inexperience on you from a mile away.

“It’s your decision, of course. Should you wish to keep things light between us, we’ll end our evenings together as friends. If you decide you want a little more, however–”

He stepped closer to you - close enough to feel his cool breath on your skin and smell the freshness of his cologne.

“I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering delicately where your neck meets the line of your jaw. He was playing you like a fiddle, and you knew it. But gods, if his tune wasn��t a siren’s song in the night. You wanted nothing more than to dance to it.

And then he kissed you.

Gods, the way he kissed you.

There was need, yes; a hunger not unknown to you even in your limited experience. But it was a hunger wrapped in a velvet blanket of familiarity, as though he had known your lips as long as his own. He was certainly skilled, there was no denying that.

The chill of the night air felt like a splash of cold water to your senses once his lips left yours, and you found yourself mourning the loss of his touch.

“Think about it,” he had said that night, before retreating back to his tent.

–

And here you are, wrapped in your bedroll, thinking about it. Ceaselessly.

About his voice, laced with the sweetest honey, speaking promises of nights wanton and dripping with ecstasy. About his smile, teasing and rakish, and the feel of his lips against yours which you missed like home.

You think about the times you let him feed from you; the gentle way he held you, one hand cradling your head. The soft, pleasured noises that would rumble from his chest as he grazed over the soft flesh of your throat - and sunk his teeth into it. Then, greedy, he would begin to pull you close, your chest flush against his own. Every time he fed, it was as though the gates holding back the flood of every primal vampiric instinct within him were unleashed at the taste of you; the ambrosia that is your life essence which you willingly gift to him. And every time he fed, before you reached the point of no return, you would break him out of his trance - a simple series of taps on his shoulder - and he would release you from his predatorial embrace.

It was in those moments, you would see the look in his eyes: ravenous, pupils blown, boring down into you as you lay there beneath him, vulnerable. Your gazes would linger and gods, how you imagined what it would feel like to be entangled with him; for him to take his pleasure from you.

No, you tell yourself. This has been going so fast. Your time together has been so short in the grand scheme of things yet, with the threat of ceremorphosis looming over you, your time on this mortal plane may be fleeting. One might argue that now is surely the time to experience that which you have not… isn’t it? 

But what if this isn’t what you actually want and this aching need within you is simply a manifestation of the stress your increasingly bizarre situation has brought you? It is not unknown for one to develop bouts of hypersexuality in times of stress, or so you have read in books detailing such occurrences.

Suddenly, an idea presents itself. A scientist such as yourself requires a chance to gather all available evidence before coming to a conclusion. A little experimentation, perhaps. Then, you’ll know for certain if your attraction runs deeper than you give your body credit for. Your honed mind will not be governed by a set of primitive bodily urges - you’re better than that. You won’t allow it.

For now, sleep beckons. Tomorrow, you shall put your idea into practice.

– 

The next day passes as swiftly as you had hoped. You’re eager to welcome the night. You and your companions had seemingly settled into a predictable routine when it came to your evening endeavours: your fellow wizard and friendly rival, Gale, would slave over the cook pot with the limited items you had procured over your journey, while the Blade of Frontiers himself regaled your group with stories of his adventures, punctuated with commentary from your remaining companions, ranging from crude to complimentary. Food would be eaten and domestic duties fulfilled, after which, everyone would begin their journeys to their bedrolls. Well, everyone bar you and Astarion. As the resident elves, you require far less rest than that of your travelling companions. It was in these moments, where the camp lay dormant and the two of you sit against a fallen log by the campfire, that you had developed something resembling a rapport with Astarion. You have become rather fond of your night time talks.

Tonight, however, you have plans beyond repartee.

You feel emboldened by your plan. Where before, you were thrown into territory unknown, unprepared and anxious, now you have the comfort of scientific method on your side. You know exactly what to say - you’ve thought of every possibility after all.

Sitting side-by-side, you turn to him, determined.

“I was thinking about your little proposition last night.”

“Were you now?” Astarion replies with a smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet. I always imagined that the first time I, um…”

“Did the horizontal dance with an esteemed companion? Engaged in amorous congress? Fucked?”

“Had sex,” you quickly correct, halting his attempts to fluster you further. “I always imagined the first time I had sex would be under slightly less unusual circumstances. We’ve been under nothing but stress ever since we got off that damned Nautiloid. I can’t tell if this desire I’m feeling is because I truly want to spend the night with you, or because my body just wants a distraction.”

“Is that such a bad thing? We’ve worms in our brains and danger is lurking around every corner. Our time is short, darling. If I can provide our dear leader a little respite in these tumultuous times; offer up my services in her time of need, that sounds like time well spent, does it not?”

He shuffles closer to you, resting his arm behind you on the log which you both lean against.

“Besides,” he continues, his voice low and close to your ear, “you’ve been so good to me, offering up your neck for me to savour. It’s only fitting that I offer you a little distraction in return.”

“I don’t want to just… use you as a distraction, Astarion. Gods, I offered you my blood because I wanted to help you, not because I expected a favour.”

For a fleeting moment, his expression shifts. And just as quickly, his smirk returns, embodying a practised sultriness that has surely wrapped many a soul around his fingers.

“No,” you continue, “if I have sex, it will be because it’s something I truly want to do; that I’m ready for. Not just a fanciful distraction. I hope you feel the same.”

That expression again, barely noticeable. You can’t quite decipher it.

“So, darling,” he purrs, “what do you suggest?”

“I was wondering if I could kiss you.”

“Ha! Can’t get enough, eh?”

“I just think that, with a little more evidence, I might be able to see if this is something I’m truly ready for; to discern whether this desire is real, or simply a physical response to this gods-awful situation we find ourselves in.”

He laughs, seemingly amused by your reasoning, and your heart flutters at the sound. Unexpected.

“Gods, are you always such an overthinker?”

“I just think it would help me come to a decision.”

“Is that what this is then? Your little experiment?”

“I’m nothing if not a scientist,” you tease back.

“Alright, my dear. Your terms are acceptable. A kiss, for scientific reasons, of course.”

Of course, you say to yourself. That… is what this is, isn’t it? Simple evidence gathering?

You have no time to consider this as Astarion places a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze fully to his, and suddenly, you hear your pulse pounding loudly in your ears once more. Gods, his eyes are beautiful.

An easy smile, a tilt of his head, and he presses his lips to yours, delicate and familiar. He’s gentle, at first: his lips linger on yours a moment before kissing you again, a tender sensation. As you close your eyes and immerse yourself in the feeling, the world around you quietens. No longer do you hear the crackling of the fire as it dies, the chirps of insects, or the rustle of leaves in the breeze. 

At this moment, all you know is him.

You succumb to the coolness of his touch, the smoothness of his skin, the freshness of his scent - sensations so overwhelming that your body responds of its own accord, letting free a soft moan into his mouth.

As though in response, Astarion’s hand lowers from your cheek and trails from your neck, your shoulder, to your waist, as though committing each dip of your body to memory, before pulling you closer to him. Your hands, in return, plant themselves against his chest. His body feels hard and angular against the softness of your own.

As his tongue seeks permission to dance with yours, there is a hunger; a fieriness that threatens to engulf you. The kiss deepens, and you realise with a start that your legs have entangled themselves with his.

Pull yourself together, your mind screams. You’re meant to be in control of your body, not the other way around.

Or so you think, when suddenly, Astarion’s hand moves to your arse - the cheeky sod - and he skillfully, seamlessly rolls you onto his lap, taking advantage of your entangled legs, purposefully positioning you so that you’re straddling him.

Shit.

You gasp. You had forgotten to breathe. He notices and, gods, the smug look on his face. He knows he’s taken you off guard, and worse still…

He knows the effect he’s having on you.

The wall you had carefully constructed between your mind and body begins to collapse, brick by brick. As you kiss, the final fragments fall away, and everything that was once separated threatens to come together in a powerful, unified surge of desire if not for the final threads of your self-restraint.

His body desires this as much as yours, it would seem. As you straddle him, his hands caressing you as they drag up and down your back, you notice a distinct hardness digging into you, oh so close to your core. It takes more willpower than you’ve ever known to not grind into that hardness, seeking the release which you ache for. You are a tautly drawn bow, the tension between your mental focus and physical yearning almost unbearable.

Noticing how stiff you become, Astarion retreats from your lips, tilting his head in playful curiosity.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, darling?”

“I… I…” You barely recognise your own voice as it strains to come out of you.

The bowstring snaps.

You yield.

Your mind and body merge into a mess of lust and desire, and you kiss him hard and greedily. He returns the enthusiasm in kind, releasing a groan into your mouth as he does so. You want this. You want him.

Astarion pulls himself from your lips and turns his attentions to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses where, other nights, he had sunk his fangs. As he does so, you hear his voice, husky in lust.

“You know, if you still need a little more “experimentation,” I have a couple more ideas for you…”

His voice gives you goosebumps.

“... I’m particularly skilled with my tongue, after all.”

You nod.

“Your tent or mine?”

–

As you’re pushed against the bedroll within the privacy of your tent, you’re overwhelmed by a desire to feel every inch of Astarion’s cool, hard body on yours. It was such a primal need, to be enveloped by him; an urge beyond anything you’ve experienced, causing you to wrap your arms greedily behind his neck as you kiss each other, pulling him closer, but never close enough. His hips grind against you slowly, deliberately, granting you a brief, delicious friction which sends shivers up your body and fuels the incredible ache between your legs.

Astarion sits back up on his knees, admiring the mess of you, a smile on his pretty lips. You can only imagine the state you must be in: hair wild, eyes wide and hungry, clothes dishevelled. But your appearance is a distant notion in the back of your mind as Astarion lifts the hem of your skirt and removes your undergarments, sopping wet from your arousal.

You feel vulnerable, exposed to him like this, your desire on full display in front of the very man who you spent nights dreaming about. While his lustful gaze lights a flush of red across your cheeks, it doesn’t cause you to recoil; instead, you find yourself emboldened as he lowers himself between your legs, holding your gaze with eyes hungry and hooded.

He drags his lips up your thighs, leaving kisses so teasing that brings forth the neediest of sounds from your chest. When he reaches your core, he slides a tongue up the slit of you, agonisingly slowly, painfully gently.

Head rolling back, you anticipate the feeling of his tongue within you, but then…

He diverts his attention back to your thighs.

Bastard.

“Astarion..!”

“Eager little pup, aren’t you? Don’t you worry, darling - you’ll get what you desire. Once I have my fun with you, of course.”

He shifts, propping your legs over his shoulders as he grants you an audacious glance and grazes his tongue over you once more, sending a wave of tingles radiating across your body.

You begin to pout at his teasing action, and–

His tongue enters you.

He glides it firmly from your entrance to your clit, lapping you up in one motion, releasing the most wondrous groan, as though the nectar of your arousal is sweeter than any honey.

And so, like a man starved, he devours you, gauging quickly the sensations you prefer, alternating skillfully between firm strokes of his tongue, and the most teasing of flickers across your clit.

Your back arches, and you can do nothing but grasp at the edges of your bedroll as he works at you, leaving you in a state so blissful that you don’t notice the wanton sounds being cried from your lips.

“Easy, love,” he purrs, the loss of his tongue against you causing you to whimper. “As much as I enjoy hearing those delectable sounds of yours, let’s not wake the others, hm?”

You can only cover your mouth with your hands in a feeble attempt to hush yourself as he continues his ministrations. As your eyes meet and the pleasant ache in your core begins to swell into an all-encompassing warmth across your body, you wonder if this is what it feels to be revered as a deity would, your every sensation treated with the kind of awe that only a god might know.

It is when he enters you with his fingers - first one, then two, thrusting in rhythm with his tongue - that the warmth, now an inferno, reaches its peak. It surges through you like a divine crescendo, each wave of your climax a new blessing that floods your senses with a celestial rapture, singing his name like the sweetest hymn.

He caresses your thighs as he brings you down slowly from your high, grounding you.

As you return once again to this mortal plane, the lingering euphoria elicits a fit of giggles from you.

“Well,” Astarion smiles in return, removing himself from the home he has made between your legs, “you certainly seemed to enjoy yourself.”

“I did. I really did. Thank you.”

As you both sit yourselves upright once more, he presses another kiss to your lips. You taste yourself on him.

“I hope our little experiment was very informative for you,” he says with a wink. His words are teasing, but spoken with a gentleness that surprises you.

The truth is, you do have one more idea.

“Can I, um… Can I do the same for you?”

“What?” He says a little too quickly. Noticing this, he brushes his hair back with his hand to a more presentable condition, regains his composure, and continues. “I mean, you don’t have to. To see you squirm under my touch, that’s pleasure enough for me.”

“I want to make you feel good too.”

“You want to?”

That same indecipherable expression. A man with as many notches on his bedpost as he claims must have had some less than favourable conquests every now and then… Perhaps he’s had some bad experiences when receiving too? You suddenly find yourself cursing your lack of experience in these matters. You’re not exactly brimming with social expertise either.

“I probably won’t be the best - not as good as you - but I want to try. I always find that the best way to develop one’s skills is to practise under the guidance of a trusted expert. So… could you teach me how to make you feel good?”

Your gazes linger for a moment as he seems to assess your resolve.

Seemingly satisfied, he smirks, a well-practised aura of sultriness fitting back into place once more. All traces of that mysterious expression dissipate before your eyes.

“Well, darling, if you’re so eager to please me, who am I to stop you?”

You slide up to sit next to him as he begins to unlace his trousers, and suddenly you find yourself unsure of where to look. You’ve a scholar’s knowledge of the physical form; men’s anatomy is no stranger to you from an analytical perspective. And yes, you’ve fantasised about Astarion’s… parts before, as much as you have tried to deceive yourself into believing it was nothing more than a passing, intrusive thought. Yet, now that you’re here, about to perform the most intimate of acts to your beautiful travelling companion for the first time, you become bashful. You can’t quite believe the situation you’ve gotten yourself into tonight.

Yet, as he lowers his trousers and underwear to his thighs, revealing himself to you, all thoughts of bashfulness, of anxiety, cease to be for a moment.

“Hells, Astarion.” You look upon his hardened member with disbelief, measuring its girth against your arm. “How is that going to fit inside me, exactly?”

A slip of the tongue.

He grins, very pleased with himself. “Getting ahead of ourselves, are we?”

… And there returns that familiar flush of heat to your cheeks. Shit.

His chuckling lets you know that he has, in fact, noticed your embarrassment.

Seeking to swiftly change the subject to the much more pressing matter at hand, you ask, “can I touch you?”

In wordless agreement, Astarion guides your hand to his cock, which glistens slightly from the beads of precum elicited from the head. As you hold it, his hand remains over yours, coaxing you to move up and down the shaft.

His cock isn’t warm as you would imagine a regular man’s to be, owing to his vampiric nature, but you note its hardness; the way it pulses beneath your touch; the way his foreskin glides over the head so seamlessly. You squeeze him, fascinated.

“Gently, love. Like this.” He demonstrates by applying a light pressure to your hand and twisting ever so slightly as you both reach the tip, then loosening his grip as he slides you back down his length. You repeat the motion, tentatively. Gods, you hope you're doing this right. He made you feel incredible. You want him to feel incredible too. But oh, what if you hurt him, what if you–

“A-ah…”

The softest sigh of pleasure from your companion interrupts your thoughts. It sends wonderful shivers throughout your body. You find yourself eager to coax more of those little sounds from him.

A newfound confidence flares within you, and you gradually increase your pace, up and down and up and down the shaft, squeezing and twisting lightly as your beautiful instructor taught. In a sudden bout of curiosity, you glide your thumb over the head on your way back down and–

“Ah!”

There it is again. That most delicious sound.

“Exactly like that, darling. Exactly like that.”

He removes his hand from yours as you continue to pump him - you are a fast learner, it would seem - and moves it to reach your cheek, turning you to face him. As he leans his forehead against yours, you notice his breathing has become heavier, just ever so slightly. Instinctively, your breathing begins to match his, and you feel an intensity in the air that gives you goosebumps. Then he kisses you, and it is hungry. Ravenous. Greedy. His hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, gripping your hair lightly, pressing your lips firmly against his.

As you continue to pleasure him, you find yourself becoming greedy too.

You want to taste him.

Between gasps for air, you ask him, “can I use my mouth on you? The way you did for me?”

“Mmhm,” he says into your kiss. It feels almost a shame to remove yourself from his lips, but you have greater plans yet. 

You both reposition yourselves. He turns to lie himself back on the bedroll, and you crawl down his body to position yourself between his legs. So close to his cock, you find yourself admiring it, taking in every detail: the thick vein on the underside of the shaft, the way the head throbs a colour darker than the rest, eager for release.

You're overwhelmed with a primal desire - a need - to please, to give.

To worship.

“Gods, it's beautiful,” you think aloud.

“I know,” he remarks confidently in return. You roll your eyes at his arrogance, but in this moment, in your eyes, even you can't deny that his cock is perfection. Your mouth waters at what is to come.

You hold his member delicately, like a jewel most precious, planting kisses up his length. A soft sound escapes from Astarion’s lips and suddenly you are emboldened, determined to gift him with bliss as he had gifted you. To do so, however, you would need a little instruction.

“Tell me how to please you,” you plead, and you feel him twitch at your words.

“You are eager,” he purrs, propping himself up with his hands to gaze down at you. You notice a shiver and a sigh, ever so slight, when you trail a line of wetness from base to tip with your tongue.

“In that case,” he continues, brushing a strand of hair from your face, granting him a better view of you, “lick your lips and hold it at the base. Then I want you to get to know it a little, so to speak. Use your mouth around the head and start slowly - there's no point in rushing in, eh?”

You obey, shaking off the lingering feelings of bashfulness at the directness of his words, and wrap your lips around him. Out of curiosity, you swirl a flattened tongue around the head and gods, his skin is so smooth, still slightly salty from precum. His cock twitches and you hear him gasp above you - he’s especially sensitive there, it would seem. 

Where are his other sensitive spots, you wonder.

Time to experiment. You are nothing if not a scientist.

You bob your head and relax your jaw to the best of your abilities, taking in just a little bit more of him each time your mouth glides up and down, keeping your tongue flat against him to flick against the sensitive tip each time you glide back up the length. The sounds he makes - oh, those sounds. His moans are like velvet, a soft, deep timbre that caresses your senses and makes your loins ache once more. Every murmur seeps into your being, igniting your senses and fuelling your need to explore every inch of him. You continue your journey down and down his length, savouring the taste and the texture and–

You gag as his cock touches your throat.

Astarion recomposes himself. “Easy, darling. Use your hand where your mouth can’t reach.”

“Like this?” Your hand pumps the shaft in rhythm with the motions of your mouth and tongue, and Astarion’s head rolls back for a moment.

“Like that,” he exhales heavily, “and suck gently.”

There’s a certain sense of empowerment, unravelling him like this. You relish in every moan that escapes his lips, every twitch and pulse of his cock as you attend to him. The lewd, wet sounds emitted as your hollowed cheeks suck his length. His hand finds its way to your hair, fingers weaving through the strands with a gentle authority, pushing you hard enough to guide you to an ever-quickening rhythm, but gentle enough not to force himself down your throat.

“Use your other hand,” he says between breaths, “hold the balls softly.”

You do as he says, giving them the gentlest of squeezes as you attend to him, and his breaths grow deeper, uneven. You sense the rising tension in him, a tide gathering strength beneath the surface.

He gives one final instruction.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes meet with a stormy intensity and, as you pump up and down with your lips and fingers at a dizzying pace, the intensity seems to surge through him with the force of an ocean swell, powerful and all-encompassing.

With a tremor and a groan so delicious that you find yourself moaning instinctively in response, his cum fills your mouth. Your eyes water, taken by surprise by the force of his release, but you do your best to swallow each wave, releasing him with a wet pop as his climax subsides.

Some moments pass and, in the afterglow, the tent is filled with a comfortable, profound stillness, and only the sounds of heavy breathing - yours and his - as you both return to your senses.

“Did you just..?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“I did,” you reply with a grin, showing him your tongue to reveal that not a drop went to waste.

He laughs warmly, and your heart flutters.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He kisses you deeply as he sits up, seemingly undeterred by the taste of himself.

“I think I’ve gathered enough evidence to consider your proposition,” you say teasingly.

“Tomorrow night then, darling?”

Bastard.

But yes, you think to yourself. Tomorrow night. You’re ready.

Part 2, An Empirical Study, can be found here!

Masterlist can be found here.

[hemlock-dreams]

Not me absolutely frothing at the mouth about this AU. Can we get an info dump on the Lore? It's making me want to abandon my current Spideypool WIP for this. Absolutely terminal brainrot for this boy

BEHOLD: MASSIVE LORE DUMP!

Peter B. Parker is a young troublemaker who has a problem with authority. He also has a knack for picking tech apart and putting it back together, which puts him on the radar for a small-time gang that needs someone to act as their alarm system breaker for a big score.

Unfortunately, said score had bad intel and what was supposed to be a simple robbery turns out to be manslaughter when the resulting fire that was supposed to cover up their tracks ends up killing two guards.

Peter is tried as an adult with the rest of the gang and sentenced to Rykers for 5 years.

Check out the full page HERE.

At Rykers, Peter meets Marko Flint, who takes Peter under his wing. and teaches him how to survive and thrive when wearing the orange.

Life goes on for 5 years. He learns the trade, gets some tats, learns how to make some great shivs, and becomes a better criminal all around. Yay prison!

Peter gets out at 21, and reunites with Uncle Ben and Aunt May. He does his best to clean up his act, but normal life is hard for someone who spent their formative years in prison.

(He also makes questionable hair and fashion choices. What can I say, he's catching up!)

He goes from job to job, trying to pay back his aunt and uncle for all their support but is completely unequipped for the 'real world.' After a few months working/getting fired from soul-crushing menial jobs (HS dropout!), he agrees to take 'one last job' with Marko that is 'guaranteed to set them up for life'.

*cough*

This robbery goes off without a hitch! No one is hurt and they make off after hitting a heavily armored Oscorp Transport with a ton of documents/tech that they aim to sell to the highest bidder.

The biggest mystery is that one glowing vial of untested, experimental serum they found...

Unfortunately, Oscorp doesn't take robbery lightly. Marko finds out through contacts that the serum (whatever it is) is too hot to sell on the market, so he instructs Peter to get rid of it so it can't be traced back to them.

Peter, a rational 22-year-old ex-con, 'gets rid of it' by mixing the serum into ink and tattooing it onto his wrist, triggering the start of his mutations.

It takes a bit, but Peter get's all the regular spiderman benefits (webs are organic), plus one more. The serum was created from the venom of the Portia Spider, a hunting/jumping spider known to be uniquely intelligent among arachnids.

Alongside the speed/strength/spideysense, Peter also grows some fangs that secrete a powerful venom.

The venom speeds up the body's processes, working almost like an insane performance booster and enhancing an injected person's strength, speed, and senses for a few hours.

Unfortunately, repeated doses also eventually induce shock, paralysis, and, later, death.

He gives a few samples of it to Marko as an exit fee.

Uncle Ben was suspicious of how Peter suddenly got so much money, but took him on good faith. But, while he was watching the news that covered the Oscorp robbery, connected the dots and had a blowout fight with Peter that ended with him having a cardiac event.

Unfortunately, he did not survive.

Aunt May and Peter were estranged over this for several years.

This event crushes Peter, sobering him up immediately. He goes back and gets his HS diploma, and works on night courses in college.

However, he spends much of his days wandering, angry at himself and what he did. He beats up a mugger one day and realizes that he could be using his powers to back up the faith Ben had in him.

Spiderman is born!

Eventually, he and Aunt May reunite, and their relationship is slowly healing.

A few years later, Peter is on the up. He and Aunt May are close again! He's got a bachelor's in computer science, has a (semi) steady job, and is well-liked as Spiderman by the populace at large. His rogue's gallery is roguing- etc.

Unfortunately, a variant of his venom (developed by Kingpin) hits the streets as a drug. It's favored by both criminals for its performance-enhancing strength, as well as civilians, for the time-slowing sensation/high it gives them.

His girlfriend, Mary Jane, who has been sober for a few years, relapses. Peter, knowing that he can't stop her from getting it on her own, reveals his identity and becomes her main source.

At least, this way, he can control the dosage.

Marko (who sold Peter's venom to Kingpin) manages to fire off his only two brain cells and realizes that Spiderman IS Peter Parker.

Then he outs him to the world because Spiderman made it personal.

Peter's life catches on fire. The entire world is after him. His loved ones have to go into hiding because there's no shortage of criminals and psychopaths who want to get their hands on MJ and Aunt May to get to Spiderman.

Peter ceases to exist. It's not safe anymore. He spends days (weeks? months?) in the suit. Eventually, on the run and burnt out, he pleads his case to Dr. Strange in desperation. (Ala No Way Home)

"Everyone deserves a clean start."

Dr. Strange agrees, but the spell can't work with Peter still existing as part of the equation. So it fires him off into a reality where Peter B. Parker, and by extension Spiderman, never existed.

So how's an ex-con/ex-superhero (for now) supposed to carve a space in a world that never knew him? By finding somewhere that doesn't ask any questions.

And it just so happens, that St. Margaret's School for Wayward Children has a reputation for both being a bar of questionable repute and looking the other way.

Might as well start there.

~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for this lovely, lovely ask! I hope this massive lore dump wasn't overkill, but I'm having a lot of fun with this world and wanted to share.

And I offer this lore dump ONLY on the condition that you do not drop whatever you're working on. There is always space for more spideypool in the world, don't deprive us!!!

[mecub-writes]

A while ago I had an idea for a fanfic for @somerandomdudelmao’s Marble Sky, and I finally wrote it! This is probably all gonna be proven wrong at some point, but whatever! It was fun to write!

Ward is five when he decides he’s going to be an astronaut. His teacher shows the class a video of space– stars and galaxies and planets and rockets– and his eyes light up and he thinks, I’m gonna do that. He announces it to his teacher after class, and she smiles and tells him he’ll have to get really good at math and science if he wants to go to space, and he nods. He can do that. 

That Halloween, Ward makes an astronaut costume out of paper mache and an old painter's suit. It’s messy, but he wins the class costume competition, and he gets a ton of candy from trick-or-treating because everyone thinks he’s adorable.

That night, he stands on his bed in his costume holding a roll of tape and his award from the costume competition: a little box of glow in the dark stars and rockets. It’s a long way up to the ceiling, but if he climbs the headboard just right he can get onto his shelves, and from there it’s just a balancing act. Usually it’s scary getting up there, but now he’s an astronaut. He can do anything!

He scampers up the shelves and holds on with one hand as he tapes a star to the ceiling above his bed. Then another star, and then a rocket, and then a galaxy (A spiral nebula! He knows this one!) for good measure. He’s struggling to tear off another piece of tape for a shooting star when his mom clears her throat from the doorway and he nearly falls off the shelf.

When he gets his balance and turns towards her, she’s watching him with her usual smile: small, tired around the eyes, but affectionate.

Ward waves. Technically, he’s not supposed to be up there, but it’s Halloween and he won these stars fair and square.

“It’s past your bedtime, kiddo,” his mom says.

“But mom, look!” He holds up a big green star. “I have to put these up.”

“Hmmm,” she says, but she’s smiling in a way that Ward knows means she’s gonna let him stay up. “Okay. Just be careful, and make sure your lights are out soon.”

“Yes!”

His mom says, “G’night,” and turns to go. Her voice sounds kinda flat but kinda wobbly, which is how it gets when she’s really tired and needs a hug.

“Wait!” Ward calls after her. She turns. “Can you sit with me while I put up the rest of these? You could even help!”

She stares for a moment, then shakes her head. “I’m too tired tonight, kid. Can I help you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Of course, mom,” Ward says, even though he knows she has work tomorrow and he’s going to put all of the stars up tonight. But she smiles again, bigger this time, so it’s worth it. They have to take care of each other, and this is him taking care of her. She’s not happy all the time, but she’s smiling now, so Ward knows he’s doing something right.

He makes sure to be quiet putting the rest of the stars up. His mom needs to sleep.

—

Ward joins science club in sixth grade. It meets every Tuesday after school, and they spend the hour doing experiments or talking about new advancements in different fields. Students can sign up to present, so he signs up and gives a presentation on the mirrors on space telescopes. The teacher who runs the club, Ms. P, tells him afterwards that it’s one of the best researched presentations she’s ever seen. Ward beams.

After his presentation, someone starts a conversation about the possibility of alien life, and the club spends the rest of the hour arguing. Sources are pulled. Theories are made. Two of the seventh graders nearly get into a fistfight over whether or not there was ever liquid water on Mars. It’s the most fun Ward’s had in a long time, and he leaves in the middle of a group of friends all teasing each other and laughing.

It’s raining when they get outside. Ward sighs and sits down under the awning in front of the school, waving goodbye to friends who run off laughing and shrieking through the rain to their parents' cars. 

His mom is picking him up. She told him she’d be a bit late, but she promised to be there.

Ward waits. He does some of his history homework. He walks in tiny circles. He thinks about his telescope presentation. The rain drums on the ground and on the awning, steadily getting heavier. 

Ms. P leaves the school building, shouting a  goodbye over the downpour. Ward waves back, a sinking feeling in his gut. It’s been half an hour since school ended, and there’s no sign of his mom.

He does some of his math homework. It’s interesting enough.

The rain doesn’t let up.

Finally, after an hour has gone by, Ward gives up on waiting. No one is coming for him, and if he sits out here in the cold he’ll just get sick. He pulls up his hood, tucks his backpack under his jacket, and heads out into the rain with his head down. 

It’s a mile and a half to his house. Usually it takes forty five minutes, but in the rain without an umbrella it’s longer. Ward loses track of the time around the same time he starts shivering, and by the time he reaches the front door he’s just glad to be home.

He changes into dry clothes and makes himself tea and soup. He can feel himself getting sick, but he doesn’t call his mom. It’s fine. He knows that even if he did, her job wouldn’t let her off.

No one is coming for him. 

—

In his junior year of high school, Ward takes AP physics, AP calculus BC, and AP biology. Everyone, including his counselor, tells him he’s crazy, (although the counselor phrases it as “doing something highly inadvisable”) but he doesn’t care. He does his homework under the glow in the dark stars he put up when he was a kid, and he dreams of space. His dreams are different from when he was five, more I’m-gonna-discover-an-exoplanet and less I’m-gonna-discover-intelligent-alien-life, but the goal is still there. He’s going to go to space, no matter what. That’s what he reminds himself of when physics and bio have a test on the same day, or when his calc teacher announces that missed tests cannot be made up.

It’s what he reminds himself of on the days he comes home exhausted from school and finds that his mom hasn’t gotten out of bed all day. It’s what he reminds himself of the day he has to check her pulse to see if she’s alive or just sleeping. (She’s still breathing, but Ward has to spend the day checking up on her and making sure it stays that way. He emails his teachers. The biology and physics teachers understand. The calc one does not.) He’s bone-tired, but it’s going to be worth it some day. 

Ward gets through that year, and the next, and he graduates. He gets into every college he applied to. His mom hugs him tight, looking more alive than she has in months.

The night before Ward leaves for college, he stares up at the stars he put up years ago. They’ve been with him every night since he was five, and now he won’t have them. 

The idea is suddenly unbearable. Before Ward can think, he flips on the lights and climbs up on his bed and peels off the glow in the dark stars. He can reach the ceiling without climbing the shelves now. The stars go back in their original box, preserved on the top shelf for years, and he tucks them into a box along with his bedding.

A knock sounds on the door of his room. He opens it and sees his mom standing there, giving him the watery smile she’s been giving him for years.

“It’s past your bedtime, kiddo,” she says.

Ward tucks her into a hug, and they stay like that for a long time.

—

Ward smiles at the cockpit of his plane. It’s perfect, but it’s missing one thing.

He tapes a little glow in the dark star to the dashboard. There.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 6

Bruce's eye twitched as he forced the well-worn grin on his face.

It was a subtle thing, one that Tim would have thought he had imagined if he didnt know better, but he did.

Across from the both of them was Vlad Masters, he was a tall man, taller than Tim but still shorter than Bruce, all of him screamed rich villian, that is other than the way the second Bruce made a comment off hand about the Gotham Knights football team.

It was then the cruel looking man melted away, and Vlad Masters devolved into a chattering 40 something that knows far too much about the Green Bay Packers.

"Oh if I could go back in time and see that touch down again I could die a happy man" Vlad said with a wistful looking smile on his face, eyes glazed over in memories before he seemed to snap out of it and shake his head, a light dusting of pink came across his cheeks, lighting up his papery skin.

"Ah...do please forgive me...I seem to have gotten a tad bit carried away..." Tim bit back a scoff as he leaned back into his chair, they had been talking for almost a full hour and nearly all of it was Vlad ranting.

Bruce let out a small chuckle that sounded fake even to Tim, "No worry Mister Masters! Perhaps next time the Knights go against the Packers we can share a box!"

Tim knew this was to help sell the whole 'Brucie' act, but he still couldn't keep the cringe on his face, "B? Um...the Knights are a minor leauge team they...ugh forget it." Rubbing at his eyes, Tim cut off the words that Masters looked ready to say, "What was it again that you asked for a meeting Mister Masters? Something about..."

Looking down to his tablet, Tim sent a check in timer, if Vlad was to strike it would be soon "some sort of collaboration? With your subsidiary Axion Labs?"

Masters seemed a little taken back from Tim's thinly vailed bluntness but pushed onward, "Of course, my dear employees at the labs have been working on an interesting new energy source! You see it's fully green and has a positive net energy production." He paused for a moment and a sneer like condescending grin got plastered on his face, "That is Mister Wayne, meaning it produces more energy then we put in it."

Bruce's eyes crinkled as his cheesy grin could only grew more, "Thank you! I was just about to ask, my dear boy Tim here is far better at understanding all that...wiggley wobbly science things!"

(Liar) Tim thought before sending Masters a bashful smile, "I know enough that what your saying is astounding to hear...why come to Wanye Enterprises with this?"

Masters grin was predatory as he spoke smoothly "Well~ Lex and I have a...bit of a history so I couldn't possibly be able to work this with him, Queen Industries are more biotechincal in nature, while WE is far more wide spread! Not only do you have a tech division, but also medical, defense and mechanical divisions!"

Things were clicking in Tims mind, Masters wanted to use WE to distribute, make them stake their own reputation for what Masters was peddling.

Bruce's persona was slipping slightly, his blue eyes steely as he looked Masters down, "We will need a working concept before we can press onward for anything else."

Masters kept the grin on for a second longer before it slipped, "Of course, I will go above that and even send my two top scientists here to demonstrate-"

He was cut off by a shrill ringing coming from Tim's tablet, making him wince as he rushed to imput the code for the check in timer, sending the man a small smile Tim spoke, "So sorry about that, I thought I put that on silent...but do look at the time Bruce, We have a meeting with Lucius in twenty minutes, did you get those slides done?"

Sending Bruce a sideways glance, Tim watched as the man stiffened but shook his head, "I did not. I am sorry Vladdie, but we will have to cut this short, I am sure you know how many meetings it takes to run a company...but please, do meet with Maddie my receptionist to schedule those scientists of yours to come over yes?"

Tim could have sworn he saw a blood vessel pop as Masters hissed a little before he gave a terse nod, "Of course...Maddie you said? Yes...I do think I will speak to her." The man seemed to calm rapidly at the name, and seemed to almost float out of the meeting room.

---

Bruce let his persona fall the same time his head fell into his hands, the heels of his palms rubbing at his eyes.

There was silence in the meeting room, he could hear Tim's fingers pattering against the tempered glass of his tablet, and the soft chatter of the office from the outside and the ever faint sound of wind whipping around the high rise tower.

Picking his head up, he looked to Tim, doing a few hand motions, "DO. BUG. SWEEP" Getting a nod in response, Bruce went over the meeting.

Something was definitely strange about Masters, he was only 48 and yet fully gray, his skin was waxy and looked translucent, deathly pale, he had a cain but didn't have a limp.

Not to mention a seemingly tense history with Lex Luthor, to the point he would seek out WE instead of Lex for his seemingly miracle energy source and-

"Clear B, not a bug in place. "

"Hn" Bruce grunted in response, trying to get his brain back on track.

The energy source was another thing that was sticking out to Bruce, it sounded far too good to be true, it broke the laws of physics to-

"Bruce? What do you think of him? Suspect or...?" Tim spoke again, and Bruce let out a small sigh, his deductions would have to wait till later.

"I think we will need to monitor him closely, I have Drs Fentons are his lead researchers..."

---

Scrunching up his face, Danny stuffed his face into his elbow before sneezing thrice, groaning for a moment before he straightened up, rubbing at his nose, the Halfa came over to the sink in the kitchen of the Diner.

It was his second day as an over night chef and he was honestly having fun? Like cooking is so much cooler when the food wasn't actively reanimated and trying to kill him.

The diner was at a new place, now it was on the old rail ways that ran through Park Row, or how the people that lived there called it Crime Alley.

He had been nervous at first, because he had felt the familiar shiver of entering another beings haunt, but thankfully the diner was stationed just out of the haunts bounds.

Biting back a little yawn, Danny flipped a page in Lunch Ladys, only to see the recipe shift and change, going from a tuna casserole to one for a classic chili.

Blinking a few times at the book, he sighed, "Well alright then." Taking note of the ingredients, Danny drummed his fingers in the book, it was obviously more than just a simple cook book, with it, you know, actually shifting and changing each page.

Shaking his head, Danny straightened up and stopped leaning over the counter, "So...Spooktastical Chili? No that sounds dumb...Cursed Cauldron Chili? Closer..." thinking out loud, Danny set a massive pot over the stove, flipping the flame on as he work shopped cheesy names for his new dish.

---

Jason had an itch.

The kind that just wouldn't go away no matter how hard you scratched at it.

The problem he couldn't get even a second of relief since the itch was in his chest, right dab in the middle.

Rubbing at it as he groaned, Jason rolled off his bed and stood, it was late, he had finished patrol an hour ago and he just...

Felt the itch to do something, to go see something that was just right out of reach.

Sighing as he stumbled around his room, grabbing discarded jeans and an old hoodie with the arms cut off, slipping them on as he left the small bedroom of the safe house.

Stopping in the tiny kitchen, Jason did his best Bat glare (tm) at the empty refrigerator, letting out a grumble as he slammed the door closed.

"Fuckin...shit." flipping the cabinet doors open he glared at the small tub of mostly empty peanut butter and sleeve of crackers that were clearly ripped into by a rat.

"Fuckity fuck fuck..." sure there were spices, so many spices, but he wanted to eat, not cook, Alfred had spoiled that feeling into him through many years.

Slamming them closed as well, Jason growled as he stomped over to his boots, toeing them on before he stormed out of his safe house, fumbling with his keys to lock it behind him.

And with that he set out on the Alley, letting his feet carry him through the streets, he waved at some of the friendlier working girls and boys, but kept walking.

It took a moment for him to realize where he was going, to that little mom and pop diner that closed years ago, they used to give him left overs when he was still one of the dirty street rats trying to live...

"Since fucking when did the lights in that place turn on?" Stopping outside of what he had thought was a clossed down diner, Jason squinted at the banner stretched above the doorway.

"Big C's diner? No...old guys name was like Tony, so ain't their kids that wanted to take over..."

Before Jason could stop himself, his hand was already around the door handle, and he was pulling it open.

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) ch3

“So, what’s your deal?” Jason asked, when Danny’s mouth was full of food. “You’re dead, I notice.”

Danny choked. He gave Jason a betrayed look with big blue eyes, a hand clapped over his mouth to contain any mess.

Jason smirked back, unrepentant. “I died once,” he shared. “Got better though.”

“You got be-”

“You were surprised about what it’s like to fight humans,” Jason continued. It was hard not to laugh at the confused outrage on his date’s face. “So that implies you fight someone else? You’re fighting ghosts or something? Or do ghosts have some kinda natural enemy? Vampires or some shit?” He might have been a bit flippant but sue him, it sounded a lot more magical than his daily life.

Danny opened his mouth and no words came out. He looked like he was in pain when he grudgingly admitted, “I do have a lot of beef with this one vampire guy, Vlad.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. That was such a vampire guy name, what the hell?

“No, no, it’s not funny,” Danny protested. He waved his hands wildly, flinging a bit of bean from his burrito across the roof they were perched on. “He’s also a ghost- well, he’s a half of a ghost, but that’s a long story from when he was in college.”

“The half-ghost vampire has an undergraduate degree?” Jason interrupted. He needed to know what this fucker studied. Was it like, social science? Literature? Theater? That might explain Danny’s implied belief that a theme was an inherent rogue thing. No, wait, business administration?

Danny gave him a withering look. “He’s got a Doctorate.”

Jason flung his hands up in defeat against the world. That made more sense than an undergraduate degree somehow. There was just something about the type of person who got a Doctorate that made them, you know, creeps.

‘Or maybe they’ve just got enough specialized knowledge to act on latent creepiness,’ he mused. ‘...Shit, am I developing an anti education stance? Can I blame this on Crane and Quinn?’

Danny was continuing with his explanation of the vampire’s background. Every word made it nuttier. “He’s a scientist, actually, and the mayor of a small town. And he lives in a cheese mansion.”

This was a sharp divergence from vampire stereotypes and he needed to know everything.

“Is the mansion made of cheese?” Jason interrupted. He was leaning in, intent on every word. Why was this vampire the most interesting man in the world?

He got a weird look for that. “No, it just belonged to the Dairy King,” Danny said, like it was everyday knowledge that you could expect a layperson to have.

“Of course, the Dairy King,” Jason said wisely.

"Enough about me though!" Danny flailed a bit. "How did you get my uh, number?"

Ah. Jason took a big bite to delay while he chose his words.

There was no point in trying to hide his vigilante identity from Danny. The guy probably didn't even understand the concept.

So he might as well top whatever story Danny had.

"The bat guy who taught me all about being a child soldier got grabbed by this group of loser cultists, right?" He gestured in a way that did absolutely nothing to illustrate the situation.

Danny cocked his head. "This is off to a good start."

"They tried to sacrifice him. You gotta remember him - big ugly guy, dressed in black and gray, underwear on the outside of his pants in a way that's never been cool?"

Danny didn't seem to have words, but he lifted his hands to make two ears on top of his head.

He pointed with both hands. "That's the guy," Jason agreed. "At the time, we didn't know what kind of sacrifice it was. We were thinking more along the lines of blood sacrifice?" He shrugged as if the idea of B biting it meant nothing to him.

Danny made a pffft sound of air escaping between his lips. "I tossed him back." He flailed in place. "I- isn't- wasn't that- that was a while ago," he stuttered. "I kinda forgot about him."

"...You got offered a cape, then a few weeks later a bunch of others, and you didn't make a mental connection?" Jason checked.

Danny flushed. "Time doesn't match up between the realms and anyway, I'm really busy!" He crossed his arms and accidentally knocked over his drink. "I've got a lot going on in my life. Anyway, for a ghost?" Danny blew a raspberry. "I'm sorry to break your heart, but none of you dress wild enough to stand out in the Infinite Realms. We've got robot dudes and child pirates and giant eyeballs and stuff." He gave Jason a smug look. It was cute.

Jason acted on impulse and reached out to ruffle Danny's hair. He realized what he was doing too late. His hand froze above Danny's head.

Danny tilted his face up and made an inquisitive sound.

"There was a bug." Jason pulled his hand back. What was wrong with him? He didn't go touching other people just because they were cute. "It flew off."

"...Right," Danny said. "You're being very normal." He seemed delighted by this, the little gremlin. "So. You were a child soldier too?"

Jason nearly fell off his perch.

Danny shrieked a laugh and pointed. "Ha!" He crowed. "I win! I shocked you first!"

"There wasn't a competition!" Jason lied. His face was bright red. It was too late to save face. "What do you mean too?" He demanded. "Were you a child?"

"Somewhat recently," Danny said. He gave Jason a catlike smile. "Adults come from teenagers, teenagers come from kids, kids come from babies. Do you need to know-"

"I know where babies come from." Jason cut him off. He tried to look off put at the way Danny laughed at him but fuck it, it was funny, in a dumb way. "Of course you were a kid, that was silly of me," he admitted. "Ghosts are made from humans, right?"

"Well yes, but actually no," Danny said, philosophical. "Some of us. I was. Other ghosts are made from like, vultures, or ideas."

It kinda seemed like ghost taxonomy was more complicated than he was ready to get into at the moment. Those two things were pretty fuckin disparate.

Jason sighed heavily and picked up his food again, just to have something to do with his hands.

A thought occurred. He didn't let it show on his face but he felt sick to his stomach.

Danny was dead. Danny said he'd been a child recently, and a child soldier.

Someone needed their ass kicked.

Danny: we are having such a whimsical time!

Jason: sirens screaming

[magicdustsworld]

𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 (𝟐)

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: A guide on how to properly date your tattooed, big, bad boyfriend.

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒: Established relationship, slice of life

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟐 : 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐌

A/N: Thanking y'all so much for all the love in episode 1, so here episode 2.

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏 (optional)

Both of you stare at the blank TV screen.

Then, from his peripheral he sees your eyes flicker to him.

You chew on your lips, "Well..."

"What?"

"I can't choose!" The exasperate confession follows a mild frown to settle on your brows.  Sukuna slightly turns his face to you as well. You flip the remote—missing the catch before picking it up and passing it to him. "You choose."

He glances at the remote for a second then back at you, raising an eyebrow at your out of the ordinary offer.

"I will watch whatever you choose."

As if. He rolls his eyes, "Both of us know that's not going to happen."

"I am serious," You hold up your left hand. "Whatever you choose, I will watch it.

Of course, he isn't convinced; gracing you with a incredulous scowl. One which incites a Cheshire grin from you as you jerk the remote towards him again.

He sighs heavily, reaching for the object in your hand, "Fine–"

"Except science fiction."

With fingertips only inches away from the device, he halts. Irritation pricks his forehead as he glares looks at you with lips curling into a frown.

"And action," You continue. "And any historical drama and–"

"What happened to whatever I choose?"

You pause, tipping your head up, "Exceptions need to be made." 

What a brat. He grumbles under his breath, careful enough to let you hear him. Yanking the remote away from you, he turns himself to the TV—surfing through all the movies when, all of a sudden a rather devilish idea crops up in his head.

He spares you a partial glance, the very same smirk curled up on his lips which always said trouble. He hums, "We are watching horror."

In an instant, your eyebrows scrunch up, eyes widening and lips parting in disbelief. "Excuse me–"

"You're excused, sweetheart." The mocking nickname rolls off his lips, easily. In an attempt to pass you a grin, he is met with a flying cushion.

Yet, his arm goes up and the material hits the surface before falling down. This time, his grin widens, upper pair of teeth revealed as the fang like canines almost makes him seem like a demon. (Like c'mon, his reflexes are on another level)

You scowl, picking another cushion–warning him that this one wold be thrown as well. A warning to which Sukuna can only snort.

"I hate horror."

"Too bad," He muses, selecting the first film that shows up in the category. "You are watching whatever I choose."

You huff, turning to face the other way while Sukuna starts the movie. The eerie music starts accompanied by the dark background as the disposable characters navigate the terrain.

Same old shit.

Fifteen minutes into the movie and Sukuna hears some rustling on his side.

Sooner than he can comprehend, another figure—you, lean on him. Head resting on his shoulder, knees touching his and when he looks down, you are scowling at him.

"Hold me."

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that an order?"

"Yes."

He snorts under his breath. Despite the mock amusement swirling in his mind, he loops an arm around your waist and pulls you close. You release a breath of contentment, placing your head on his chest and Sukuna lets out a curse for letting the act relax his muscles.

An hour into the film and Sukuna... is unamused.

The plot is so predictable that he can guess it in his dream and the characters are so pathetic that he is tempted to spit out the snide remarks resting on the tip of his tongue. It's the snacks that forces him to stay put for the remainder and well... you.

Its impossible for him to not notice the slight tremors of your body or the soft squeak you'd let out whenever a jumpscare would come up. Shifting his attention on you, he is met with your wide eyed expression as you stare at the screen ahead, the almost empty popcorn bowl in your hand as you fiddle with the contents. So engrossed in the film that you don't even notice that he is staring.

And you were telling him that you hate it. Yet, you didn't profess any annoyance or dislike to it after the film started. Neither making the effort to leave him. Well, in case you did leave– Sukuna finds himself contemplating– In case you did leave, would he have surrendered and chosen something else? Maybe.

He reasons it's the fact that the movie night idea had been initially yours that's why he would. Nothing else. He can't bring himself to sit down and watch some mundane movie all alone. That's it.

While this reverie is playing in his head, a jumpscare comes in the scene and due to your 100% attention on the movie, you let out a light squeal. The bowl jerks in your hand, causing a few popcorn to drop on the couch and only for seconds you cling onto him a bit more.

He snickers. Now this is amusing. He doesn't register how he starts to rub absent minded circles on your back.

The end credits play and Sukuna is about to get up and stretch his limbs until... he doesn't.

Greeted by the sound of snores, Sukuna finds you to be fast asleep. Your head on his chest, one arm over his torso and the empty popcorn bowl initially in your hand, now rests on the rug.

Great. You offer to watch a movie with him, be all focused in the middle and then end up falling asleep on him. That should be vexing. But it isn't. What indeed, annoys him is just how endearing you seem right now. With the slow rise and fall of your chest and your lips parted– he doesn't know why but it infuriates him more than he'd let on.

He doesn't know what comes over him but he is reaching out to you and before he is knows it, he is pinching your cheek.

As a result, you wake up with a jerk and he instantly retracts his hand.

"Excuse me?"

He blinks and you're giving him the look.

He clears his throat, "The movie's over."

"And?"

"You were sleeping."

A scowl plasters itself on your face, "There are better ways to wake me up, you know. What were you trying to do?"

Exactly. What was he trying to do? In his defense, he doesn't know either. You were just looking so adorable and for reasons unknown, he found himself tempted to... he doesn't know what.

You are still scowling at him– waiting for him to reason– one which he doesn't have. Therefore, he only shrugs. "Don't know."

Your lips twist into a pout and you shift in your position before reaching out to him as well. He just needs to be served with the same medicine. Yet, Sukuna's fast and before you can pinch him in return, he has your wrist in his grasp. You try again with the free hand which ends up in his grasp as well.

"Oh no, you don't." He smirks, a reaction which only incites a huff from you and you try to escape from his hold. A try which proves to be futile.

"I hate you." You concede.

"You don't."

Said so, Sukuna releases your wrists but before you have the time to move away, he is sliding one arm under your knees, another behind your back as he scoops you up. You yelp and on instinct to not fall, you latch your arms around his neck.

"I do," You say, not trying to wiggle out as a strange numbness settles in your legs. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

He still has the know-it-all smugness in him as he walks to the bedroom to show you exactly why you don't hate him.

.

Bonus

"Did both of them die in the end?"

"The pathetic excuse of the main guy lived."

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 3

Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @o-ikawaii

[doofsevilinc]

Let Me?

Art Donaldson x reader

Notes: suggestive, fwb-ish, non-tennis AU, university AU, polisci mentioned 😬 first ever work, comments/feedback appreciated 🗣️

Word count: 1k

A/N: sorry for blueballing mike faist call me

Summary: Political science can be a hard major. Everyone needs a distraction sometimes.

Now playing: Play Date - Melanie Martinez

“I’m walkin’ to your house, nobody’s home,

just me and you and you and me alone.”

——————————————————————

Art was so polite. When you first met through your polisci study group friends, he was the perfect gentleman. When you all would go out together, he’d hold the door for you, always pull out your chair when you came back to the table with drinks. You figured he was like that with every girl, your typical midwestern sweetheart.

You couldn’t have caught how his eyes lingered on you when you’d walk past him through the door, or how they drifted downward while you chatted and passed out drinks. No one could. No one suspected it of him. He was too slick about it.

So when the rest of the group wasn’t available and he asked you to help him study for an upcoming test, you thought nothing of it. His roommate would be right next door anyway.

And it really was nice. It was enough to make learning about congressional oversight over the bureaucracy less excruciating. You two laughed a lot (he did at all of your jokes) and he’d smile so sweetly at you that it sort of gave you butterflies. Of course you wouldn’t object when he started only asking for you to study with. You figured it was because you were good at the subject anyway. It’s not like you weren’t getting something out of it too. You had to admit that you liked how he acted like your puppy. He’d do anything you asked, get you whatever snacks you wanted, ever the knight in shining armor. He really was a cutie, especially when got that embarrassed blush on his face hearing his roommate outside the door with the girls he brought back, or the constant EDM blasting from his room.

Midterms were coming up, and you were stressed. You were a high achiever, but studying for 5 classes was a lot to juggle. So of course you took up Art’s offer of a study/chill sesh at his dorm. You knocked, and he opened, wearing his red cap backward, another thing you thought was cute on him. You looked a little past him, noticing the silence. His roommate wasn’t there. Your eyes fell back on him and you noticed that this time he looked more… pensive. He looked tired, his lips looked bitten on. You chalked it up to the time of year. You probably looked out of sorts too. As he held the door and you brushed past him, though, you could feel his eyes on you, stalking you like prey.

You were sat on his bed, and the lack of technobeats in the background made the air feel heavy. Things were more quiet this time as you two once again went through the motions of flipping through flashcards detailing factors affecting political efficacy. It almost felt tense. You weren’t so sure his roommate’s absence was entirely at fault. At some point you put them down and sighed, slumping against the wall.

“I can’t do this anymore. I just wish midterms were over. I feel like I haven’t relaxed in weeks.”

He was still upright, looking at you keenly.

“Yeah. Me neither.”

He put his cards down without taking his eyes off of you.

“I need a distraction. Just for a little. I just wanna stop thinking.”

He huffed in agreement, then paused. Now he looked down. Started biting his lips again. He swallowed.

“I could…help you with that.”

Maybe you were reading too far into the tension in the room, but your mind quickly darted to something…uncivil. Your stomach jumped before you regained your composure. …He was cute. It’s not like in your horny hellscape of a university you hadn’t thought about it before. You had no time for a relationship that could relieve your frustrations, something your major was known for, and which you and your single friends complained about often. It was starting to take a toll. Still, you took the thought out of your head. You just had a dirty mind. That’s not what he meant. He was gonna pull playing cards out of his pocket or something. You laughed a little, lightly, cautiously.

“What do you mean?”

He looked back up, eyes shining, piercing. His face grave, like when you’d came in. It made you feel almost too seen…almost naked. Almost like your minds had gone to the same place.

His eyes went down again, landing on his fingertips, which you hadn’t noticed had reached the edge of your thigh. In fact, you couldn’t focus on much outside of your heart beating in your ears.

“I just…I’ve been really stressed too. Really busy. I mean, the way we all are. Too busy to…you know…” He trailed off a little, his eyes crinkling in an embarrassed huff, softening his features. “And…you know what a good stress reliever is?”

He was hesitant, but the question was rhetorical. The way he said it was enough to give the answer. Your peers talked about their sexual frustrations enough that you knew it was on their minds too.

It was so still that you feared he could hear your heart beating out of your chest. You both being on the same page had caught you off guard.

Your silence caused him to backtrack, trying to read your face. “I mean, we always talk about not having time for dating and wanting hookups and stuff… I just figured since we know each other we could…I don’t know…lend each other a hand.”

You could feel your face getting hot, giddiness rising inside you. Seeing the small smile on your face, and how you watched his fingertips on their trail up your thigh, he seemed to relax.

You felt cheeky. He was into you. “So you wanna help me out?”

“…please?” His eyes turned pleading. “No one’s here.” He said softly, suggestively.

Your face turned even hotter. He was right. You were alone. No one would hear him putting you through the mattress like you’d tried not to imagine before. God, you were getting ahead of yourself. You nodded. He pulled away from you, and the vacant space he left on your thigh felt cold. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he got off the bed, kneeling, and settled between your legs.

He gazed up at you, looking more puppy-like than ever, his wide, desirous eyes a question — a desperate plea.

“Let me?”

[ghouldump]

hi i love your writing unfortunately there aren't many fics for the iwtv so tysm!!

i was wondering if you could write something about louis lestat and claudia with a (vamp?) reader that accidently timetraveld

Back In My Arms | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ time traveling accidentally and you're able to relive bittersweet memories.

thank you and I agree, especially the amc version compared to the movie. The other posts are coming, but I had to rush and get this one out because it was so gut wrenching for me 😭 LOL

“What do you think? The blue or the purple,” you held the dresses to your body.

“I prefer your birthday suit,” Lestat said over the classical music, making you roll your eyes at him. Could he ever be serious when you needed him to be?

“Louis,” you called out, wanting a real opinion.

“Hm? Oh, the purple” he was hardly listening, more focused on the pages of the book.

“So the blue, got it,” you grumbled, storming away, to finish packing your things.

“Ma chèrie, why are you leaving again? It truly makes no sense to me why you remain friends with this mortal,” Lestat said.

“I don't see why you care, it's not like either of you will notice I’m away,” you said, as you closed the bag.

“Don't say that, we do notice,” Louis said, defensively.

“I'll only be away for a night,” you mumbled, checking your appearance in the mirror, and slinging the bag over your shoulder.

“Stay, you can give us a more detailed visual representation of the dresses,” Lestat said, straightening his posture when you scoffed.

“Sex doesn't fix everything”

“It is a start”

“And maybe that's why we’re in the situation we’re in, now, if you'll excuse me, I’m going hang with my mortal friend, who communicates with me and doesn't want to block out our problems with Mozart, books, and sex,” you said, storming out of the townhouse, making sure to slam the door.

Getting into your car, you began to drive to your close friend, George, or Georgie, you called him both. He was middle-aged, although he was closing in on becoming elderly. He'd oftentimes been told he resembled Bill Nye, but those comments usually only made him red in the face, before he sent a storm of swear words at the person, in his thick Cajun accent. Divorced and cut out of his kid's lives, he was lonely, but so were you. Georgie was the only mortal to ever know that you were a vampire, and he made you feel normal.

Although having a few questions at first, he eventually let the matter go, and hardly ever brought it up. The two of you had been friends for nearly a decade now, and you planned to hold on until the bitter end. He wasn't too keen on being turned, scorned by his wife leaving him and his children siding with her. Lestat and Louis weren't comfortable with your friendship at all, but after realizing your relationship was completely platonic and you weren't cutting him out of your life, they grungily accepted him.

As you finally parked in front of Georgie’s house, approaching the door, you shook your head, discovering it was unlocked. Letting yourself in, you locked the door, going to where you'd both hang out for hours, his basement.

“You need to keep your door locked old man, anyone could just walk in here,” you said, going down the stairs. Tossing your bag onto the couch you'd usually sleep on, in the windowless room.

“Nobody comes here but you,” he said, making you laugh.

“So how is it going?” you asked, sitting in a nearby chair.

“A little more progress than last time, how are things at home?”

“Lestat is…well Lestat and Louis will always act like our issues aren't there,” you shrugged.

“Have you tried talking to them?”

“Of course, Lestat doesn't take anything seriously enough, and Louis wants to brush over it all,” you said.

“Hopefully, this is a success, because then we can fix everything,” Georgie smiled.

“Maybe you, but I don't see my problems being fixed”

“Don't underestimate science,” he told you.

Georgie had been working on an actual time-machine portal. He believed if he could go back in time, undo his mistakes, could prioritize his family over work, maybe that would stop his wife from having an affair with the neighbor, from leaving him and draining his wallet, and taking his children who he couldn't even get a happy birthday from.

He insisted that you would be able to use it, to repair your companionship. A long time had passed since 1910 and much tragedy and heartbreak happened. Separating from each other and eventually reconnecting, recently everything had been so stagnant and bland. No energy to argue about obvious conflicts, but unwilling to leave each other again and be forced to deal with the pain.

“Oh, my goodness,” Georgie stood up, his hand going to his chest. Your eyes widened, worried that he would croak.

“What is it?” you asked, you couldn't sense any internal issues, noticing his thoughts were jumping for joy.

“I think…I think it works,” he said, as he began to type on the nearby computer. The pod he'd spent years building, lit up, the white light faint.

“It turns on, how will you know if it works for real?” you asked.

“Could you maybe catch a few raccoons, rats, birds, anything, we can try on them,” he asked. Standing up, you went outside, quickly grabbing a rat from near the drainage, bringing it to him.

“Done,” you smiled, holding it firm, tossing it in the pod, as he opened the door. The rat squeaked a bit, running in circles, as Georgie typed.

The machine began to make a noise before the rat burst. It’s guts splattering on the door.

“Ew, what happened?” you asked him, pressing against the door, to look inside in disgust.

“It seems like it is releasing some sort of radiation, too strong for animals and people, I'll have to keep working on it,” he grumbled disappointedly.

“I could try it if you want,” you offered.

“The radiation will be damaging-

“In case you forgot, I’m hardly human anymore, I am a bit intrigued, the worst thing that could honesty happen is I get burned up, and I’ll heal,” you said, as he faced you.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to do this, Y/n,” he said, but you brushed him off.

“Trust me, I don't, but you've put so much time into this, almost as long as I've known you, I want this to work out for you,” you said.

“Okay, let me get suited up, to clean it first,” he said, changing into the nbc suit to clean the inside of the pod. While waiting for him, you checked your phone, seeing a message from Louis.

“Sending a picture of the dress, I’m sure you look beautiful as always”

Smiling softly, you set your phone on the counter, taking your shoes off, watching as Georgie scrubbed the blood away. Little did Louis know, you wouldn't be wearing the dress to go hunting tonight. As soon as he finished cleaning, he was back at your side, typing on the monitor.

“We’ll do, let's say 5 minutes into the future, I’ll think of a number and when you come back, tell me the number, and time it to see if there is a significant change in time,” he said, as you nodded in agreement, accepting the small stopwatch, stepping into the pod.

Your arms at your sides, you briefly gave him a thumbs up, hoping to reassure his anxious thoughts. Typing on the computer, the pod began to light up again, the noise leaking out before it started to shake. Standing up, Georgie stood with his eyes wide, his jaw dropping as you vanished.

“Oh my Lord, it's working,” he said, his hand shakily went to his mouth.

Back at home, Louis and Lestat were relaxing, leisurely lounging around when it happened. A sudden feeling of dread washed over them as if you were gone. Glancing at each other, both of them stood up, rushing from the house to your friend, George's home. Bursting through the door, they went downstairs.

George looked back, gasping, surprised to see the elder vampires. However, before he could say anything or move, Lestat had him pressed against the wall, his hand around his neck.

“What did you do?”

“M-machine,” he choked out, looking over at the pod.

“Lestat, look,” Louis said, staring at the pod, fog seeping from the bottom.

“What is this?” he continued, looking to George.

“Time machine,” he struggled to say, before Lestat dropped him.

“You didn't put her into your experiment,” Louis said out loud, shaking his head, already pacing the floor.

“She offered, and it was only five minutes into the fut-

Suddenly, within the fog, you could be seen, smiling in excitement from the exhilaration of the atoms passing through your body. Your smile quickly faltered, seeing your lovers and a nervous Georgie.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Get her out of it, now,” Lestat told Georgie.

“Leave him alone,” you argued.

“This isn't safe, Y/n, we thought you were gone,” Louis told you.

“Don't parent me, Louis”

“Get her out of it now, or it will be destroyed,” Lestat said, shoving George into the computer, his hands smashing against the keyboard.

“Stop it, Lestat,” you yelled.

“What did you do?” George stressed, as the machine lit up. Typing as quickly as possible, he couldn't see the results that he needed.

“Y/n, he made me press a few buttons, it is going to the past, I don't know how far, but I’m going to fix it,” Georgie said apologetic.

“What?” Lestat and Louis said at the same time.

“Do not kill him, fucking asshole,” you said before vanishing.

“Can you bring her right back?” Louis asked.

“I don't even know how far it has brought her”

“Well figure it out,” Lestat snapped.

“This is your fault, she told me all about you and your ugly ways,” George said. Tilting his head, Lestat was about to reach for him, but Louis grabbed his arm.

“He has to bring her back to us,” he reminded him.

“She is going somewhere in the 19th century, I can't pinpoint where and when. Time should be a little longer through the pod, so I’d estimate a few hours for us if it is a success”

“For us?” Louis asked.

“IF it is a success?” Lestat screamed at the same time as him. George truly didn't understand what you saw in the dramatic man, other than his good looks.

“I've been studying this for some time now and with time travel, it could feel like days, or even longer, but in reality, it should only be a few hours, and I say if because we haven't tried going to the past. The pod isn't sustainable for the undead and Y/n getting in was the first actual progress of real-time travel,” he explained.

“Maybe one of us could go in and-

“No, that is the worst solution, we don't know where she went, so I wouldn't know where to send you and it is only one pod, and overloading the database is the last thing that needs to happen, we’ll give it a few hours,” George said, standing.

“Where are you going?” Lestat asked him.

“Have a glass of wine, if it could take a few hours, I’m going to relax for a while, you're free to make yourselves comfortable,” he said, stepping out of the NBC suit, before going up the stairs.

“We just have to wait,” Louis reassured Lestat, who stood staring at the pod, unable to believe this was happening.

As the pod finally stopped shaking, you peered outside at the change of setting. You were outside, Georgie nowhere to be seen. Turning on the stopwatch, you muttered an apology to him, before punching the thick glass and pushing the door open. Immediately, you recognized the familiarly different environment.

Your bare feet touching the dirt, you recognized the small, poorly built houses. You hadn't seen these houses in ages after Katrina wiped the remaining pieces away.

“Hey, what are you doing-

“You saw no one here, and you won't let anyone get near this precious contraption, now go on inside,” you glamoured the man, watching as he went back up the stairs, into the house.

Sighing, you began to leave the area, ignoring the strange stares. From the way everyone dressed, you were somewhere between the first three decades of the 19th century, and you were sticking out like a sore wearing the knee-length sundress. There was only one place you knew to go, to be sure of the date.

Coming to a complete stop in front of your home, you could see the lights on. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that if they were here, this wasn't the same Louis and Lestat you were having issues with, and so you'd have to act accordingly.

Opening the door, you could hear the shuffling of feet and the sound of furniture being torn apart. Furrowing your eyebrows, you went upstairs, surprised to see them in that room. Making eye contact with Louis, he did a double take.

“Y/n,” he said, taken away by your beautiful, he hadn't seen a dress made in such a way before, shorter than average, but still classy.

Hearing your name, Lestat opened that lovely pink coffin, climbing out, and tossing the diary to the side.

“Ma chérie, you stopped for shopping?” he asked, a small smirk in place.

“Did you see her?” Louis finally asked. At a loss of words, you struggled to speak for a moment.

“I'm sorry, I'm not feeling like myself, what year is it?” you asked.

“1920, you alright?” Louis asked, approaching you.

“Look who finally decided to crawl home to her coffin and write about her psychosexual behavior,” Lestat spat.

“You read my diary?” hearing that beloved voice, your eyes began to sting.

“Only a little bit,” Louis confessed.

“I read all of it and you are a little deviant brat,” Lestat said, as you slowly turned around. The bloody tears began trickling down your cheeks, as you stared into her eyes. She was real, in the flesh, not a figment from your dreams or old photos, but was here in front of you.

“Claudia,” you said, her name flowing from your lips caused you to visibly tremble.

“Mama,” she started, concerned, her eyes widening as you rushed over, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.

Weeping bitterly, you held her close, unwilling to let her slip away this time, whispering sweet words of love to her. Confusedly, she hugged you back, as you both sat on the floor, holding her in your arms.

While the two men were originally set on disciplining their wild daughter, their concern now shifted to you.

“Claudia, you've been reckless-

“They're buried in Chalmette,” you interrupted, Lestat, your hand comfortingly brushing over her curls.

“How do you know that?” Louis asked, but you ignored him.

“My beautiful girl,” you whispered, hugging her one last time tightly, before letting her go.

“Are you okay, mama?”

“I couldn't be better at this moment,” you reassured her, kissing her forehead.

“Let her off this time, please, for me, she's still a child, and there will be a time when we wish we still had our beautiful girl staying here with us,” you said, facing them, seeing your blood-stained face, they were beyond concerned.

“It's still a little early for bed, perhaps you'd like to play a game of chess?” you asked her, wiping your eyes and accepting her hand, as she stood up.

Going into the living room, Claudia couldn't help but think about how unusually attentive you were being. Sure, she was just as spoiled as other children, but you never stopped her from being disciplined when you all agreed she needed to be.

“Claudia, you know I love you, right?” you asked her, watching as she set up the game.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Without you, an eternity isn't the same,” you admitted, as Lestat and Louis came downstairs, joining the two of you.

Your lovers watched you intentively, as you played the game with Claudia. Lestat noticed how you were letting her win, purposely moving to the wrong places, as she took your pieces while showering her with praises.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the interaction seemed different. Any other time you played chess with her, you gave her a challenge, expressing where she was improving or where she needed work. This time, you were treating her like a little child, like you hadn't seen her in forever, or would never see her again.

Time flew and after two long rounds, Louis stood, announcing Claudia needed to go to bed. Groaning, she stood, wanting to stay longer, but you shook your head.

“It's okay, you need your beauty rest, I love you so much, sleep well,” you told her, hugging her firmly once more.

“Love you too,” she mumbled before she was stomping up the stairs.

“Are you sure you are okay, ma chérie?” Lestat asked, as soon as her bedroom door shut.

“I am, I just, the thought of one day losing her, or being apart hurts my soul, our relationship would probably never be the same,” you said, smiling sadly at him.

“Why would we never be the same?”

“Because she's our daughter, and it would take losing her to see how much she is loved, even you, she's so much like you and that's why you clash so much,” you laughed.

“Wouldn't that make us stronger?”

“I wish that was the case, but holding onto the past makes you unable to communicate like you're supposed to-

“Where is all this coming from? Talk to us, what's on your heart?” Louis asked.

“Please don't question me, but there will be a time when we are so weirdly uninterested in each other, and we try to block out our issues with reading, music, and sex,” you said.

“Why though?”

“Holding onto the past”

“Then you'd have to remind us of what is ahead and not behind,” Lestat said, leaning down, pecking your lips.

Feeling your face burn from the passionate kiss, you looked down, your eyes widening noticing your fingers faded. You have watched enough sci-fi movies with Georgie to know it was time for you to leave.

“I need to make a quick run-

“The sun will be up in another hour,” Louis told you.

“I know, I won't be long, love you both,” you said, pecking both of their lips, before running out of the house.

As you ran back to the backyard, you were surprised to see the man back outside.

“What are you doing?” you asked him, seeing as he sat on the steps, watching the pod.

“I saw some kids run back here, so I’m just watching this contraption,” he shrugged. Staring at the man, you recognized him, Georgie’s grandfather, but much younger. You had seen the few photos hanging up on the house and you identified the face quickly.

“If you had advice for a future relative, a son or grandson, what would you tell him?”

“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. I get divorced, but I was able to experience a beautiful marriage, same with children, I was fortunate to experience fatherhood”

“Beautifully said, go get some rest,” you said, glamouring him, watching as he nodded, going inside.

Carefully stepping over the broken glass, you cautiously stepped inside, shutting the door, as the fog came back, the machine lighting up, before you were gone.

“Anything?”

“You just asked me that a few minutes ago, please, have some damn patience,” George said to Lestat, who was pestering him about you. The man was trying as hard as he could and Lestat did not care one bit.

Suddenly, the pod lit up, the fog coming back. Typing on the computer the door opened, before you stepped out, your feet dirty.

“I was away 6 hours and 40 minutes, how long has it been?” you asked, tossing Georgie the stopwatch.

“2 long hours, you've been crying,” Louis said, going to pull you into a hug.

“I saw her, our girl, she was perfect,” you said, feeling him stiffen in your arms before his shoulders shuttered from crying.

“What was she doing?” he asked.

“She had gotten in trouble, but I convinced you both to let it go, and we spent time together,” you said, as he smiled, nodding.

“You told her you loved her?” he asked, hopeful.

“Yes,” you nodded, as the hug tightened before he pulled away.

“And you told me something, so valuable,” you said, shifting to Lestat.

“Of course I did,” he smirked.

“You told me to remind you both of what is ahead of us and not our past,” you said, watching as he dabbed his eyes, stopping any tears on his part.

“Sounds like something I’d say, I guess,” he grinned.

“Are you ready to come home? I know you're probably exhausted from all of this?” Louis asked, grabbing your bag when you nodded.

Glancing at Georgie, who stood awkwardly waiting for you to finish with your reunion. Moving away from Lestat, you stood in front of your good friend, before pulling into a hug.

“Someone dear to you told me some valuable advice I want to share with you,” you smiled.

“Okay”

“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. Our past isn't meant to be changed, but rather we embrace the experience, both good and bad, because it shapes us into who we are. You might not be able to get your marriage back, but you could try to reach out to your children, Georgie,” you said, smiling as he teared up, agreeing with you.

“We have our own affairs to handle,” Lestat groaned, ready to leave the tiny basement.

“Shh,” Louis nudged him before you followed the two out of the house.

“Now that I think about Lestat was more charming back then, but now it's you, Louis,” you said, both of you laughing as Lestat scoffed, going on a rant about his greatness.

You missed Claudia greatly, but you had to keep moving, you all did. You still had an eternity of life, but maybe one day, just maybe, when you're reunited, she'll be where she belongs, back in your arms.

[princessbrunette]

pogue!rafe who you call over to fix every minor inconveniences.. theres a cockroach bothering you or your ac’s acting up and rafe is the first guy you call 🙂‍↕️ he acts all nonchalant being “you could literally call the ac guy or your neighbor or someone. youre saying i come all the way here for this?” but you js go “but you’re the only one i trust rafey!!” and he eats that shit UP 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

perhaps you have strict kook parents who don’t let you bring men into the house — but rafe has worked on the house, they trust him — so he’s allowed right? he really doesn’t wanna come all that way just to press a few buttons on your ac that he knows you could do yourself — but he can’t help it, he’s just a man and you’re feeding his ego when you say stuff like “i’m not good at this kinda thing rafe, you’re all smart n’know how to fix things. oh, and my parents like you so they wouldn’t mind if you come here whilst they’re not home!” which makes his ears perk up like a rabbit of course. he reluctantly agrees and heads straight out.

it’s a specifically hot day, so when he turns up you’re walking around in just the tightest tiniest bikini because the ac is broken and you just couldn’t bring yourself to put clothes on.

he’s being his usual mean self, telling you to stay out of his way whilst he figures out the problem, and then once he figures it out starts telling you that you could have done it yourself — but you’re just smiling, barely listening, staring up at him looking all soft and grabbable which makes it hard for him to concentrate. you’re finding ways to get him to stay longer, offering him iced tea and food to which he declines every offer. before he leaves you get all upset, brow furrowed and pouty and he can’t stand it.

“what, huh? why are you looking at me like that?” he throws his arms up from the doorway to your bedroom, watching you sit on the bed sulking.

“why do you wanna leave so bad?” you mewl, genuinely sounding like you’re on the verge of tears and he sighs, scratching behind his ear.

“doin’ my job, kid. you’re not payin’ me to hang out and besides — m’not taking your money today.” he waves a hand and for a second you lose focus of your goal.

“wh— why?”

“i came over n’pressed a few buttons. s’not rocket science.”

“i’m still gonna pay you.” you cross your arms stubbornly and he spreads his palms carelessly, looking around.

“well uh, i’ll send it back.” he sarks and you huff, staring at your feet. he watches you for a moment, before giving in just a little and leaning on the door frame. “still upset? huh?”

“yes.” you pout.

“whats the problem now? you kook girls have got plenty’a shit to entertain yourself with alright you— you don’t need me for that. not a god damn babysitter.”

“you’re not babysitting. not even that much older than me, anyways.” you whine, only seemingly proving his point and he huffs out a laugh.

“jeeeesus christ.” he drawls under his breath before he strolls over to stand infront of you. you don’t look up at him, pointedly, so he taps beneath your chin twice. “hey.”

looking up, you look so sweet — he couldn’t deny it. “whats the issue?” he reiterates, and from his clipped tone you can tell he’s not gonna ask again if you refuse, he’ll just leave.

“want you…” you murmur, eyes getting hazy and low, pupils dilating before his very eyes like you’d flipped a switch. it’s tempting, very tempting but he backs off anyway.

“nah, nah you want a toy. go fuck on a dildo, m’not your slave.” he huffs tiredly as he drags his big body over to the doorway again. in almost a panic you let out a devastated noise, tears welling up.

“no i want you. rafey, c’mon… you have no idea. s’hurting.” you complain, and now his interest is piqued, turning around once more he licks his lips irritably at the back and forth, blinking at you.

“you think that shits not gonna hurt with me? huh?” he tilts his head, reaching down and boyishly grasping at the shape of himself through his jeans. “this shits bigger than any of the other suckers you’ve had. trust me, you don’t want this kid. go back to playing with kook boys.”

fed up and whiny, you bring your feet up onto the bed, spreading your thighs as you pull your bikini bottoms aside. he freezes on the spot, eyes locked in to the sight, only just taking in the pained look on your face. you weren’t lying, your cunt is a mess of slick, practically pulsating and clenching around nothing infront of him.

“i can take it. make me take it.” you request quietly, peering up at him. he exhales hard out his nose, looking around the room helplessly before storming towards you.

“yeah? alright. i’ll make you fuckin’ take it.”

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

[steddiealltheway]

(Set right before season 4)

Steve rushes over to the Henderson house after an ominous call from Dustin saying, "Come over as soon as you can, it's an emergency," before hanging up dramatically.

He can hear his nail bat rolling around in his trunk every turn he takes as he gets there in record time. He grabs the bat out of the trunk and rushes to the door, not bothering to knock before he barges in.

He's met with the sight of Eddie Munson staring at him with wide eyes as Dustin yells, "No! No! Don't swing! Not a code red!"

Steve sets down the bat and lets out a deep breath. "What the hell, Henderson?! I could've seriously taken you out with this thing!" He hears Dustin give him a half-assed apology as he tries to get his heartbeat to slow down. "Next time, don't leave such a cryptic message, okay?"

"Okay," Dustin says, holding his hands up.

"What the fuck is that?" Munson asks, staring at the bat.

Steve points at him and says, "Language," before turning to Dustin and asking, "What's he doing here?"

Dustin sighs and gestures them toward his couch. Steve shoots Eddie a look before taking a seat right against the arm of the couch. It's not that he hates him, hell, he's pretty sure he's gotten weed from him before. It's just that he doesn't like sharing this older brother role with another guy - especially one who likes to make dramatic speeches on top of lunch tables.

Based on the way Eddie is similarly leaning away from him and uncomfortably fidgeting with his rings, he can tell there's a mutual tension between them. Dustin doesn't pick up on it as he sits across from them, acting like he's about to deliver the worst news ever.

Steve leans forward a little trying to get Dustin to finally spill and tries not to lean back immediately when he sees that Eddie is doing the same thing.

"Okay, Suzie and I were talking, and her family is considering visiting Hawkins."

Steve smiles. "That's great, but why-"

"Why are you acting like that's bad news?" Eddie asks, finishing Steve's sentence. The two glance at each other, and Steve tries not to size him up.

Dustin groans, "Because I need to take her on a proper date! We weren't able to go on dates during science camp, so I want this to be special. Of course, this is all contingent on whether she can convince her dad to give us alone time..."

"I could be your chaperone, but I'd ditch you once you got to the movie theater," Steve offers.

Eddie scoffs, "Yeah, a date with Suzie will not be at a movie theater."

Steve crosses his legs and turns toward Eddie. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you knew something about dating. Wait a minute." He directs his attention back to Dustin, utterly horrified. "You asked me and Munson for girl help?"

"Don't sound so shocked," Eddie says, but Steve ignores him.

"Yes," Dustin states simply. He sighs and gestures between the two of them. "Steve, you're a lady's man and you know exactly what to say and where the best date spots are, but you pick up the worst girls. Except Robin who you refuse to date." Steve doesn't have time to argue before Dustin points at Eddie, "And Eddie understands all the cool nerd stuff that Suzie and I like, and he's super charismatic. So, I thought we could combine your abilities to create the most epic date in the history of dates."

"No," Steve and Eddie both say at once.

"Guys-"

Steve turns to Eddie and raises an eyebrow. "Why are you protesting my help?"

"Because try as he might, Dustin can't convince me that you aren't an asshole that has never actually wooed a girl. You get by with your pretty looks and think that's enough."

Steve's mind lingers a bit on the "pretty looks" for some reason, but he pushes past it to say, "Please, you're telling me you know a single thing about wooing a girl?"

Eddie leans in with a bright smile. "You heard it from Henderson, I'm charming."

"Charismatic," Steve corrects him, "But I haven't seen a shred of that yet."

Eddie tosses an arm over the back of the couch and scoots in until Steve is trapped against the arm of the couch. Steve tries not to show Eddie how much the sudden closeness is affecting him.

"I could easily charm your pants off, big boy," Eddie says with a wink.

Steve's eyes betray him and flicker down to Eddie's lips. "Please, I'd easily beat you to it."

Eddie tilts his head and looks at him through his lashes. "Are you saying you want to charm my pants off, Harrington? I'm flattered, but I'm not that kind of girl."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Is that a bet?"

"Do you want it to be? Because it kind of sounds like it."

Steve blames his series of bad dates, the meaningless sex with girls with no substance, and the weird tension between them for his response. "It's a date, Munson."

"So, I'm going to assume that was the weirdest way of you two agreeing to help me," Dustin says, startling Steve away from Eddie who he was definitely not just about to kiss.

"Jesus H. Christ," Eddie mumbles under his breath as he moves away, seeming to have also forgotten where they were.

"Sure, we'll create a date for you two and trial-run it for issues," Steve says.

Dustin smiles wide and giggles, "See, I knew you two would help if you just put your dumb differences aside!"

"Something like that," Eddie mutters. "But hey, what does your gut say? Where do you want to take her?"

Dustin shrugs. "I like the idea of the movies."

Steve slowly looks over at Eddie and gives him a cocky smile. Eddie's mouth twitches momentarily into a frown, but he ignores him. "I'll think of something special to do after, but Harrington can fill you in on a movie date."

"I thought you were the expert on wooing," Steve snarkily replies.

Eddie huffs, "Movie dates just aren't my thing."

If they're actually trial-running this, Steve will make it a point to make movie dates Eddie's thing.

"That sounds great. Thank you both!" Dustin says, still ignoring the obvious tension.

"Well, I've got to head out, but it was good seeing you," Eddie says with a genuine smile that Steve thinks he would like to see more often.

"I do, too. Hey, I'm glad I could help. Next time maybe don't make it sound like a nail-bat emergency though," Steve says lowering his voice before grabbing the bat.

He follows Eddie toward the front, but they both stop and turn to mess up Dustin's hair simultaneously. Steve pulls his hand back when Eddie's hand runs on top of his. He looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed.

"I told you you guys are similar."

Steve thinks that Dustin's right, but maybe they're only similar in the way they both obviously care for him.

They finish their goodbyes and head out into the cold January weather. Steve clutches his jacket tighter around himself - he had forgotten to grab a heavier coat in his rush over. He turns to Eddie and says, "Hey."

Eddie turns to him and raises his eyebrows.

"Want to trial-run that date tonight?"

Eddie frowns at him. "I thought you were joking."

With that, Steve should take the clear out given to him and agree. Yes, it was just a joke. Instead, he says, "It doesn't have to be."

It's a long few seconds of Eddie staring at him before he gets a quiet response of, "Yeah, sure. Uh, let's go to my place though. I don't want your reputation to be tainted if you're seen in public with me."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve says sincerely. He's not sure why he's so adamant about this date, but maybe he just wants to see where that moment on the couch could truly lead. "But hey, your reputation would also be tainted if you're associating with me."

"And we wouldn't want that," Eddie says with a small smile. "The freak and the king. What would people say?"

This surprises a laugh out of Steve before he says, "I think your place would probably be a little more intimate than a movie theater."

He can't tell if Eddie's cheeks suddenly flush a little pinker from the cold or a blush. "I told you, I'm not that kind of guy."

"More intimate doesn't always mean sex. You know this."

Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "Why don't we continue this conversation at my place so you don't freeze to death?"

"I like the sound of that," Steve says, making his way to his car and trying to hide the huge smile that's trying to split across his face all because of Eddie Munson.

He rushes to shove his bat into the trunk, hoping that he won't have to further explain that to Eddie. But based on the way his eyes linger on it, he's thinking he won't get away from questioning too easily.

Luckily, he has prepared his Harrington charm for this moment. And boy, he's going to be using it as often as he can to prove Eddie wrong.

Part Two (aka the final part)

[starniolosposts]

invite (1)

part one, part two

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: the popular frat boy, chris sturniolo, unexpectedly invites you, the shy and quiet girl, to his frat party.

warnings: shy/unpopular reader, confident/frat boy chris (but he’s still sweet), chris defends you 🤩, pretty long and will have a part two which is the final part

notes: SMUT IS IN THE NEXT PART (you could just read the next part for the smut but this one has all the tension leading up to it hehe;) )

not proofread/edited

“hey.”

you practically jump out of your seat from the voice in front of you, interrupting your study time in the silent library. you shrink into yourself in embarrassment at your reaction, and are even more mortified when its chris sturniolo standing in front of you.

chris grins and leans over the table, hair falling into his face as he scans the study page your on. “seems hard. whats your major again?”

you gulp, throat suddenly turning dry. you don’t answer, honestly kind of scared of saying the wrong or humiliating thing to the one boy you’ve been admiring from afar since college started.

he tilts his head and locks eyes with you, “so you don’t really speak, do you? i’ve never heard you talk before.” he observes, and you bit your lip.

“…i do talk.” you finally manage to say, avoiding anymore eye contact.

chris chuckles before pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down.

your heart rate picks up and you pray that he wont be staying for long. not because of him, but because then you have less of a chance of embarrassing yourself in front of him.

“so, whats your major?” he asks again, and he actually seems interested.

“oh, its animal science. i also minor in biology.” you whisper, seeing the librarian glance over at you both. chris obviously doesn’t care if he’s loud, since he responds with his normal volume.

“oh shit, so you’re smart smart.”

you blush and shrug, tapping your pencil on your notebook. “not really.”

chris smirks. “how humble of you. anyway, i have another question. what are you doing this saturday?”

your eyes widen as you glance up at him, stomach tingling with butterflies. why did that sound like he was asking you out? you bit the inside of your cheek in thought. you should study for an upcoming exam… you shake your head, “i don’t have anything on saturday.”

“perfect. i have a frat party that starts at 7 pm, but show up whenever you want.” chris exclaims, seemingly very pleased as he leans back in his chair.

you blink and then feel a sense of dread in your stomach instead of butterflies. “oh—uhm… i don’t really do parties.” you sheepishly mutter. what you didn’t want to admit was how you have never even gone to a party, nor have been invited to one.

chris smiles charmingly as he looks at you, and you feel so exposed and flustered. “i can tell. its alright if you don’t want to go, i just thought it’d invite you. you seem to study to much, your big brain needs a break.” he taps your study book as he tries to act unbothered.

you think for a moment, then blush blossoms your cheeks. “if i go, uhm, will i be able to stick by you then? i know i won’t really know anyone there.”

chris stares at you with an unreadable expression, his jaw squared and his eyes gleam. he finally nods. “of course. you can follow me around.”

you sigh through your nose and nod, the nerves already flowing through you. “okay.”

“you’ll go?”

“yeah, i think.”

saturday comes faster than normal, the anticipation of the frat party buzzing through you, and it even floats around the lectures you have. apparently a lot of people were going and it was going to be a huge party, everyone was looking forward to it.

while people were excited, you were kind of dreading it. what if chris abandons you and you’re left alone in a group of strangers? what if you trip and face-plant and everyone laughs at you? you shake your head, knowing you were overthinking.

you take a deep breath as you look at yourself in the mirror. this is the most you’ve ever dressed up, and you thought you looked okay. you wore a short, sparkly, black dress and your hair was curly down your back. no one had ever seen you with your hair down, so this was a big step. in the back of your mind you knew you were just trying to capture chris’ attention at least a little bit.

gathering up the courage, you grab your phone and make your way across campus and to the frat house. you can hear the music from a mile away and the flashing lights are prominent the more you get closer.

you glance at the time on your phone, 8 pm. you thought it was weird to show up exactly when the party started at 7, so you waited around for a while.

you tried not to think about how skin tight your dress was, or how short it was, or how your makeup looked. you pushed down your anxiety and tried to convince yourself you would have a good night. you walked inside, wincing slightly as the music was now clear and blaring in your ears.

your number one objective was to find chris, and fast. you looked around swiftly, dodging drunk people and catty girls side-eyeing you.

“y/n!”

you spun around and nervously wrung your wrists behind you, staring at chris as he walked up to you. “hi.”

chris’ jaw clenched as his eyes darted all over you. your hair, your face, your body. he blinked, wondering how you were the same person at the library a couple days ago. “you look great.” he finally says.

you smile shyly and look at his outfit. he wears baggy camo pants with a black long sleeve, a chain, and doesn’t wear his signature hat, so his hair is out and fluffy. he looks handsome as always, but you cant say that. “you too.” you meek out.

“i thought you skipped out, i was worried i would have to go to your dorm and drag you here.” he jokes and smiles, gesturing you to follow him.

you laugh softly and nod, following him into the kitchen with less people and muffled music. he grabs two red solo cups and fills both of them with something. he hands you one, then takes a sip of his.

you look at the contents inside the cup suspiciously, hesitate to try it.

chris looks down at you staring into your cup and chuckles. “don’t worry, i figured you don’t drink so its just lemonade.” he reassured, and you sigh in relief as you sip on it.

“thank you.”

“mhm. what made you agree to come?” chris asks suddenly, leaning against the counter, arms crossed with his cup still in his hand.

you gulp nervously, flustered as you stare at him. “can i be honest?” you ask, doing the same thing as him beside him.

he grins down at you and nods, “yeah.”

you fidget with your cup. “i’ve never been to a party, or invited to one. so when you asked i was nervous, but knowing i had you i was okay.” you blurt out, and you mentally slap yourself for saying so much.

chris is silent for a moment, and you want to run away and go back to your dorm, but then he nudges your shoulder with his elbow.

you look up at him and he smiles warmly. “hey, now that we talked and you came to my party, we’re best friends now. no need to be nervous when i’m here.”

you both stare at each other, and you swore he was leaning closer and glancing at your lips. unfortunately, a voice spoke up.

“chris, i love this party! beer pong was so much fun!” a girl strides in, b-lining straight towards him. she then looks at you weirdly, glancing at how close you were standing next to him.

chris nods at her and looks a little irritated, “good, it’s supposed to be fun.”

you awkwardly look down at your aching feet as they continue talking, this was your first time wearing heals for a long period of time.

the girl glances at you and then looks at chris with a look. “so, who’s she?” she asks as if your not there and she can ask you.

chris sighs and puts an arm around your back and his hand on your arm, making your eyes widen as heat filled you and goosebumps rise on your exposed skin. his hands are rough, but they are gentle with you. “this is y/n l/n, shes in our biology lecture. i convinced her to come.” your face feels hot as he says your full name, did you ever even tell him your last name? how did he know?

the girl hums and looks at you with a confused expression, “oh, i don’t remember ever seeing her. anywhere. but alright, i’m tory.” she smiles concededly. you try and smile back and nod at her in acknowledgment, “nice to meet you, tory. i like your dress.” you say. socializing and making friends is a little difficult for you, but you try your hardest. it didn’t seem to work as she looks you up and down and doesn’t say anything.

chris clears his throat and recognizes the tense situation and dislike from tory towards you, “tory, maybe we could ease off of her, yeah?” his eyes narrow at her, and you see his hand gripping onto his cup harder. you feel embarrassed, but at the same time you feel grateful and appreciated by chris, and its nice.

tory stares at chris in shock before scoffing under her breath, “whatever.” she walks away after that, going into the living room where the party is at.

chris finally takes his hand off of your arm, and you both don’t realize it but you think the same thing.

i miss his touch.

i miss touching her.

“…thanks for that.” you mutter, swirling your lemonade in your cup. chris nods and glares in the direction that tory walked off in. “i never liked her.” he explains, “in high school she dated my brother, matt. totally broke his heart and was so mentally draining towards everyone.”

you furrow your brows and frown, now wishing you weren’t nice to her in the first place. “i’m sorry.”

chris shakes his head and smirks down at you, making you slightly flush. “oh, don’t you worry. we got her back. pranked her for years on end and held blackmail against her.”

your eyes widen and then you laugh, an actual belly laugh. chris stares at you and then starts laughing as well. its just easy when it comes to you.

“its so bad, but i love it.” you giggle, then you ask, “you have a brother? does he go here?”

chris is ecstatic and proud, since he can tell your coming out of your shell around him. he likes it… he likes you. “kind of, i’m a triplet. both of them chose different colleges though.”

you tilt your head in shock, “really? thats so cool, are you all identical?”

his heart skips a beat at the sparkle in your eye and the curiosity in your voice. “sure are. they look exactly like me, but we all have our differences.”

you nod, “i understand.”

suddenly a guy shouts into the kitchen, “hey chris! come play a game with us!”

chris looks at you, and you shrug even if your freaking out inside. you liked hanging out and talking with chris, but with a huge group of people? not your thing.

chris scrutinizes you and states, “you don’t want to, i can tell.”

you silently nod but then shrug again, “i’m fine with playing, only if its with you though.” you look away from him to hide your blush.

he grins and nods before pushing off of the counter, setting his cup down. you do the same and closely follow behind him into the living room. the music is low now, and a group of people are in a circle on the ground or sitting in chairs/couches.

chris dabs people up and nods in acknowledgment at others, and you feel like everyone is staring at you as you follow him like a lost puppy. no one says hi to you.

you sit down next to chris on a loveseat, scooting down your dress uncomfortably. chris notices and swiftly gets up, goes to the front door, grabs his jacket off the hook, and then walks back over. you look at him confused until he laid his jacket over your legs and sat back down like he didn’t just do the nicest thing ever for you.

you feel your heart pumping fast and your veins turn hot. the little gesture made your thighs clench underneath the jacket that smelled like his cologne. glancing over at chris, it only makes you more aware of your attraction towards him. his arm is over the back of the loveseat, his legs spread slightly open as he leans back comfortably.

you feel dirty and flustered thinking about him like this, then snap out of it when someone speaks up from the group.

“alright, lets play the classic truth or dare.” a guy grins. everyone agrees and they start going around in a circle, asking random people. some of them do dares, but they aren’t regular dares, they are sexual. there was a three way kiss, stripping, and licking whip cream off of someones stomach.

your lower stomach only got hotter, the undeniable ache between your legs getting stronger. your mind always went back to chris for some reason, wondering what kissing him felt like, or how his tongue would feel licking whip cream off your skin. you shift, and your thankful for the jacket covering your legs since it blocked the view of your thighs clenching.

chris notices though . he always notices the little things about you. believe or not, he had been admiring you from afar as well. he couldn’t help it, he was drawn to you, the quiet girl in the back of the class. whenever he was in lecture, his eyes would drift to you and observe. he knows you bite your lip when your nervous or thinking, and he knows your leg bounces when your anxious. he knows that you secretly laugh at his jokes behind your hand and that you feed the stray cat that roams around campus. yeah, it was safe to say he liked you a lot, and he notices you.

“the girl beside chris.”

your head snaps up and you gulp nervously. its a blonde guy that smirks at you. “y-yeah?”

“truth or dare?”

“uhm, truth?” you say, but its more like a question. you really prayed it wasn’t anything embarrassing.

he thinks for a moment. “whats the worst thing that has happened to you during sex.”

chris clenched his jaw at the thought of you having sex with someone. its a weird thought, thinking of you with someone else other than himself.

your face immediately is red as you look down at chris’ jacket. you pick at the thread on it and clear your throat. “u-uhm… thats a little personal?”

“come on, don’t be a buzzkill!”

chris glared at the guy, “cut it out, clayton. if she doesn’t feel comfortable saying then don’t pressure her.” he glowers slightly, making clayton raise his eyebrows.

“its truth or dare, man. no outs. she has to answer.”

chris furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “i’ve never had sex, so i can’t answer.” your eyes are squeezed shut in embarrassment as you grip onto the jacket for comfort. everyone goes silent and you think this is the moment you want the ground to swallow you whole.

chris blinks at you with wide eyes then his jaw is set and his eyes turn dark. his pants are starting to get tighter than before and his hand clutches onto the back of the loveseat. “fuck.” he hisses out, but he made sure he was quiet.

“wait, so you’re a virgin in college? have you even had your first kiss?” tory asks, crossing her arms in amusement. she was milking your humiliation for all its worth.

you tilt your head down and dont answer, which makes her laugh slightly. “wow, so your really inexperienced. how are you even here at this party?”

“tory, stop. i’m serious. i still have those screenshots in my hard drive.” chris speaks up and threatens, looking her straight in the eyes. it makes you peak your eyes open to look over at him. he smiled reassuringly at you, and it makes you feel a lot better, and a lot more needy.

“…lets just move on.” a random girl says, chuckling nervously.

the game continues, and chris lowers his voice to speak to you with no one listening. “are you okay? im sorry that was pressured out of you, ill kill clayton.”

you shake your head, “its fine.” you whisper.

“no, its not. especially with what tory said.” he grunts out then sighs. “i’m sorry.”

you hesitate, but scoot closer to him and smile gently. “its alright. thank you for defending me, not a lot of people do.” you hadn’t meant for it to come out so sad and lonely sounding.

chris bites his lip before nodding, “yeah, of course.” he breaths out.

your eyes dart to his, and you catch a glimpse of desire you had been looking for. your chest heaves slightly harder, your stomach burns, and your eyes glance to his lips.

“…follow me.” he abruptly stands and holds out his hand for you. you knew what would happen if you took his hand and followed him, but you wanted it too happen. you’ve never felt such an easy and instant connection as you have with him, so you don’t hesitate to grab his hand and leave his jacket behind.

some people stare in shock as he takes you up the stairs, but you can only stare at him.

chris quickly takes you to a bedroom and closed/locks the door behind the both of you. he backs you into the wall, hands coming up to slowly grip onto your hips. you nervously look up at him, not knowing what to say or do. you’ve never been touched like this by someone you liked, and it was building up a fire in you that burned your core. the desire for him was too much, you wanted him now.

he gazes down at you with dark eyes. “i’m so glad you came to this party.” he sighs out, his hands slithering around to rest on your lower back, sinfully close to your ass.

your breathing heavily, your hands clenching onto his biceps as you lean into his touch. “me too.” you whisper, your head tilted back onto the wall to look up at him.

it silent for a moment, letting you feel his hands travel over your dress and to your waist. "i really like you, you know?" he whispers, and for the first time you see him slightly bashful but still confident, and your stomach tingles in the best way.

your heart jumps to your throat at his confession and your legs tremble, a shaky but content smile reaches your lips, "really?"

chris nods slightly before leaning into your neck and lowly muttering into your skin, "and i really want to fuck you, too." his lips come into contact with your neck, pressing feather light kisses onto your sensitive spots. he moved closer to you, caging you against the wall.

your heavy gasps and panting mixed together, and the bedroom got hotter by the second. then, he hiked your dress up to your hips and traced his fingertips on the lace of your panties, getting closer and closer to where you were desperate for him.

you gasped and clung onto him, whimpering as his fingers lightly brushed your clothed clit, but then teasingly moved back to tracing the edge of your panties. “chris…”

“hm? what is it, baby?” chris smirked into your neck, his tone teasing and amused. he loved your needy little gasp and wanton whimpers flowing from your lips. his cock was pressing against his jeans at how sensitive you were, knowing that you were this way because he was the first to ever touch you like this.

“i’m nervous.” you murmur, shivering as hands go to your hips to softly grip them. you look up at him and bite your lip.

chris glances at your plump, wet lips and wishes he could ravish them. but then he reminds himself that he has to go slow and teach you some things. “no need to be nervous, i’m right here.” his thumbs massage right beneath your lace on your hips.

you gulp and look to the side, contemplating what you were about to do. “…are you just saying all of this so you can have sex with me?” you blurt out your insecure thoughts, and frown at the silence heavy in the air. did you ruin the mood?

“hey, look at me.” chris demands gently, hooking your chin and making you lock eyes with him. “i never say anything i don’t mean. i know we only met a couple days ago, but i’ve always noticed you.”

your face flushes even more than it already was, your hands hesitantly running up his stomach to his chest. “i noticed you too.” you whisper. he shivers at your touch and words before sighing contently, “i know, i see you staring.” he teases, chuckling as you look away in embarrassment once again.

“on a serious note, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. but if you want to continue, i wanna set a rule first.”

your eyes dart to him, searching for any sign on him lying about anything. there is none, only lust and fondness in his blue eyes as he looks at you. you nod, “alright, what is the rule?” you ask curiously, getting more bold and sliding your hands up his shoulders and around to his nape. you play with his hair slightly and see that he holds back a groan, which you save for later use.

“if you say yes, you’re mine.” his tone is serious and low, it makes your thighs clench and the burning in your stomach feelings like molten. “no dating, fucking, or seeing other guys. we would be exclusively only seeing each other, i don’t just do random hookups on a saturday night.”

you softly smile and nod, “me neither, obviously.” you mutter with slight embarrassment. he laughs and grins at you, “so, do you want to continue, baby?” he asks teasingly, leaning down closer to your lips.

you lick your lips and nod shyly, “yeah. i really do.”

chris hums and one of his rough hands travels to the top of your panties. his fingertips dip into the fabric, trailing across your lower stomach slowly. his eyes stare into yours, savoring your reactions and small noises.

your pussy clenched as his lips suddenly grazed your ear and he lowly whispered, “do you want my fingers, y/n?”

you whine shamelessly and nod, too worked up from a simple whisper and some light touching.

“yeah? then beg.”

holy fuck.

to be continued with actual smut… sorry its so long! i cant help but like the tension leading up to it

[vmpivory]

UNSCRiPTED ── yang jungwon

★ ——  ‎𝓲N WHICH `⠀◌  rivals l/n y/n and yang jungwon are cast as romantic leads in their school play. with no chemistry and lots of arguing, their teacher suggests fake dating. as they spend more time together, they start to wonder if their feelings are real or just for the play.

✶ - 𝓰𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : rivals to lovers , fake dating , fluff , comfort (?) ✶ - 𝓹𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : yang jungwon x fem reader ✶ - 𝓯𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : minji and hyein ✶ - 𝔀𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝓬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 : 2.7k

꒰ ⠀ !  ꒱ . .⠀ 𝔀ARNINGS vulgar language (only used 2-3 times), skinship in some scenes, arguments, bad attempt at humor ( lmk if there are more! ) ..

❪ reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! <3 ❫

L/N Y/N STOOD frozen in front of the cast list, eyes narrowing as she scanned it for the third time.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she muttered under her breath.

Beside her, a voice snickered. "What’s the matter, y/n? Can't handle the pressure?"

She didn’t need to look to know who it was. The familiar annoying tone belonged to none other than Yang Jungwon, her rival in almost everything. Of course, she would get to play romantic leads with him.

Y/N whipped her head around, glaring at him. "You have to be joking. There’s no way we’re playing the romantic leads. That has to be a mistake."

Jungwon shrugged casually, his lips curving into an annoying smile. "I don’t know. Looks pretty official to me."

"PARK Y/N, YANG Jungwon—my star-crossed lovers! How do you feel about your roles and the script?" Ms. Choi’s smile was wide, far too pleased with herself.

Y/N’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Jungwon, ever the smooth talker, crossed his arms over his chest and fake smiled. "Oh we love it!" Y/N rolled her eyes and elbowed him before answering, "Ma'am there must be a mistake because I really can't pretend I love him. Please, can you change the roles? I'm sure someone else would love to be the male lead." "Hey, if you don't like it why don't you give up your role! I'm staying as the male lead and your role is gonna get changed." Ms. Choi raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. "Now, now, there's no mistake. You two are perfect for the roles." "Ms. Choi, with all due respect, we have zero chemistry. And this script... it's all about chemistry." Jungwon snorted. "Yeah, negative chemistry. Like me and math." "Well, if we were a science experiment, we’d definitely be a total failure." She rolled her eyes. Ms. Choi chuckled, clearly unbothered by their protests. "Ah, but that's the beauty of acting, my dears. Chemistry can be built, just like any good relationship."

Y/N shot Jungwon a death glare. "There's no way I can 'build chemistry' with him." "You guys, look. I had this same situation two years ago. The main leads couldn't even stay in the same room with each other but you know what they did? Fake dating. It helped a lot and the play was amazing. I suggest you two give it a try." Y/N’s eyes widened. "Fake dating? Are you serious?"

Ms. Choi nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. It’s a proven method. It’ll help you both get into character and build that on-stage chemistry." Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued despite himself. "You think that’ll actually work?" Ms. Choi just nodded with a smile.

Y/N groaned, crossing her arms. "This is ridiculous. But fine, if it means we can avoid turning this play into a disaster, I’ll do it." Jungwon’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. "Great. Looks like you're now.. my fake girlfriend." Y/N glared at him, feeling the familiar spark of rivalry flare up. "Don't think this means I’m going easy on you. I’ll be the best fake girlfriend you’ve ever had. And probably you ever will." As Ms. Choi walked away before smiling, Jungwon turned to y/n with a grin. "Guess we better get used to it. You ready for our first 'date,' sweetheart?"

"Don't push your luck, Yang Jungwon."

Y/N FIDGETED WITH the edge of her jacket as she walked into the small café at the corner of their neighborhood. It wasn’t exactly a romantic spot, more of a hangout place for high schoolers trying to avoid homework. But here she was, on her first fake date with Yang Jungwon, of all people.

Jungwon was already seated at a booth near the window, scrolling through his phone as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He looked up when he noticed her standing awkwardly at the entrance, smirking as he waved her over.

"Right on time, girlfriend," he teased as she sat down, emphasizing the last word in a way that annoyed y/n. She plastered on a fake smile. "Let’s just get this over with. What’s the plan?"

Jungwon shrugged, leaning back in his seat with that same annoyingly calm attitude. "We’re supposed to build chemistry, right? Let’s just act natural. Pretend like we actually, you know, like each other."

Y/N scoffed. "Like that’s even possible."

"Hey, it’s called acting for a reason." "My acting skills are not good enough to pretend I like you." She rolled her eyes. Jungwon grinned, leaning forward on the table. "Come on, it can’t be that hard. I’m pretty likable when you try."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Really? I must’ve missed that version of you." He chuckled, completely unbothered by her sarcasm. "Alright, if pretending to like me is nearly impossible for you, let's start with something easier. Like having a normal conversation. Without insults." "Impossible." "I'm starting to think you are not that good at acting." "Okay fine," She sighed in frustration. "I'll try to be less insulting." Jungwon leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. "Now that’s progress. See? We’re already improving."

Y/N shot him a pointed glare. "Don't get too comfortable. This is for the play, not for you. Plus, this play is super important for me." He raised an eyebrow. "I wanted auditioned for an acting agency and they will be watching the play to decide if I'm good enough or not. So I'm gonna be blaming you if I don't pass." Jungwon’s smirk faltered slightly as he processed her words. "Wait, you’re serious? You’re auditioning for an agency?"

Y/N nodded, her expression firm. "Yeah. I’ve wanted this for a long time. This play is my chance to prove I can actually do this, and I can’t afford to mess it up. So, if you screw this up for me, I swear—" Jungwon raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, relax. I know we clash, but I genuinely want you to succeed too. This isn’t just about me." She blinked, surprised at his sincerity. "You better." Jungwon leaned forward, his expression getting serious. "Look, I know we don't really get along. But this play is important is important for both of us, especially you. I'm not trying to mess up your chances. In fact, I hope you get accepted." Y/N frowned, unsure of how to response to his unexpected support. "Why are you being suddenly so.. nice?" "Hey, I have a heart too."

"SO," JUNGWON STARTED, breaking the silence as they walked side by side to home, "We survived our first fake date. Not too bad, right?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Speak for yourself."

He chuckled. "Ouch. Harsh but fair."

They continued walking in the silence, not having any eye contact.

As they approached a fork in the path where their ways would divide, Jungwon cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, I guess I’ll see you at rehearsal?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment that the evening was coming to an end. "Yeah. Rehearsal, right."

With a nod, Jungwon turned around and started walking the other way, down the street. 

Maybe pretending to be Jungwon's girlfriend wasn't so bad.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. "What am I thinking?" she muttered to herself, quickening her pace home.

Y/N TRIED TO focus on her lines, but her mind kept wandering back to Jungwon. He was across the stage, laughing with some of the other cast members, looking so effortlessly charming.

"Earth to y/n!" Minji, her friend and fellow cast member, waved a hand in front of her face. "You good?"

Y/N blinked, snapping back to reality. "Yeah, totally. Just... lost in thought."

"About Jungwon?" Minji teased, nudging her playfully.

Y/N shot her a look. "I mean, we’re just... acting. It’s complicated. It feels like I should hate him, but deep down, it’s not that simple."

"CUT!" MS. CHOI called out. "Jungwon and y/n," She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before continuing. "I still don't see the chemistry. This is our 7th try!"

Y/N shot Jungwon a look, half-exasperated and half-amused. “Sorry, Ms. Choi. We’re really working on it.”

Jungwon leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for y/n to hear. “Maybe we should try to actually like each other for a moment?” She rolled her eyes but felt a smile creeping in despite herself. “Yeah, because that’s so easy right?” “Okay, everyone, let’s take five,” Ms. Choi announced, her tone softer now. “Grab some water and reset your minds.” As the cast split up, y/n turned to Jungwon, crossing her arms. "Can you at least try a bit more? This is important for me, you know!" "I know, I know. I'm trying my best but you should too." Y/N snorted. "I'm already giving my best!" "You are clearly not!" Jungwon shot back. "Maybe if you tried to hide your face expressions, it would be better!" "Or maybe, you are not good at acting as you think you are!" She paused, the air thick with tension. “What did you just say?” Y/N demanded, her voice low. Jungwon took a step back, realizing he had crossed a line. "I meant—" "No, you don’t get to take it back now," Y/N interrupted, her heart pounding. "You think I’m not trying hard enough? I’ve been working my ass off for this role! You know this is important to me!" "Maybe if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own expectations, you’d see that it’s not all on me!" Jungwon shot back. "This isn’t just about you, y/n!" “Alright, let's start again!” Ms. Choi called, her voice cutting through the thick tension in the air. Their five minute break was wasted in a stupid argument, great. Y/N and Jungwon took their positions. “Why can’t you just trust me?” Jungwon said, following the script. “Trust? You’re the last person I’d trust!” Ms. Choi watched intently, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. “Yes! Keep that energy!” She mumbled to herself. For a moment, it felt like they were really connecting. Y/N could see the flicker of something genuine in Jungwon’s expression, and she felt herself relaxing into the performance. But then, as the scene reached its climax, the lines began to blur between acting and reality. “Maybe if you weren’t so self-absorbed, you’d see what’s really happening!” Jungwon snapped, his tone rising, the frustration from their earlier argument spilling over. Y/N's eyes widened slightly. What the hell was he thinking? That was not in the script. She didn't know why and how but she also got out of her character. "Self-absorbed? Says the one with a big fat ego!" Jungwon’s eyes flashed with annoyance, and he took a step closer, his voice lowering dangerously. "You think I have a big ego? You’re so focused on your own expectations that you’re missing the bigger picture—we both want this to succeed." Y/N's heart pounded as the tension between them mounted. This wasn’t acting anymore. Their real feelings—the frustration, the rivalry—were bleeding into the scene. Y/N’s hands clenched at her sides, and for a moment, she forgot they were on stage, with everyone’s eyes on them. "Oh, I’m the one acting like that? Maybe if you weren’t so busy pretending to be cool all the time, you’d realize you're not the center of the universe either!" Jungwon scoffed, taking another step forward, closing the gap between them. "Pretending? I’m not pretending anyt—" “Enough!” Ms. Choi’s voice rang out, breaking the intensity of the moment. She stood up from her chair, clapping slowly, her expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

Y/N STARED AT her reflection in the mirror backstage, adjusting her costume for the big ballroom scene. She smoothed down the soft fabric of her dress, trying to calm her racing heart. Tonight was the first full rehearsal with the whole cast, and everything needed to be perfect. The play was tomorrow and this was her chance to prove herself.

But as usual, her mind drifted back to Jungwon.

After the little argument, they went on a few fake dates again. But their chemistry didn't seem to be there, let alone improve. 

"Why do you look so stressed?" Hyein asked, popping her head around the corner. "It’s just rehearsal."

"I know, I know but.. I don't think I'm gonna do well," Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples as the nerves crept in again. "I just feel like something's off. And if I mess this up, I’ll probably never get the chance to be a real actress again."

Hyein stepped into the dressing room, offering her a reassuring smile. "You’ve been doing great so far. Everyone's seen how much effort you've put into this role. You’ll be fine."

Y/N forced a smile but still felt the unease bubbling under the surface. "Thanks, but it’s not just the play. It’s Jungwon."

Hyein raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"

"Since the little argument... nothing’s been the same. We’ve gone on these fake dates, just like Ms. Choi suggested, but it’s not helping. If anything, it’s made everything more awkward. We can barely look at each other without the tension ruining the scene. And—"

"Hey," a familiar voice called out, making them both look away. "Can we talk?"

It was Jungwon.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as Jungwon stood at the doorway, his expression unreadable. Hyein glanced between them, giving y/n a knowing look before excusing herself.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the whirlwind of emotions that surfaced whenever Jungwon was around. "What is it?" she asked, her voice a little sharper than she intended.

Jungwon stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "I just... I wanted to talk before we go out there. This is the last rehearsal you know, it's important." Y/N crossed her arms, feeling the tension immediately creep back in. "About what? If you're gonna tell me I'm not good at acting again, no thank you."

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck—a gesture she’d come to recognize as his way of stalling. "Look, I know we don't really get along and you hate me, I hate you.."

She nodded slightly as he continued.

"..and I know we’re supposed to be faking this whole... 'dating' thing for the play, but I think that’s the problem. We are forcing it a little too much. Just... think of me as the guy you like or something, okay?"

Y/N blinked, her heart racing at Jungwon’s unexpected suggestion. "You mean, just act like we actually really really like each other? You think that's easy?"

"Hey, you're a good actress. You said it yourself." He smiled and chuckled faintly before leaving the dressing room.

Y/N AND JUNGWON stood under a starlit sky, the backdrop of a cozy rooftop terrace adorned with fairy lights and soft cushions. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, creating a serene atmosphere for their characters.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Y/N’s character, Liv, gazed out over the city, her voice a soft whisper. “Sometimes, I forget how lovely the world can be.”

Jungwon, playing the charming yet mysterious Johnny, stepped closer. “It is,” he replied, his tone warm. “But it’s even more beautiful when shared with someone special.” Y/N turned to him, her heart racing. "Someone special, huh? You mean like a star-crossed lover?"

"Exactly," Jungwon said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Someone who makes the ordinary feel extraordinary."

"Do you really believe in love like that?” Y/N asked, tilting her head as she searched his face for answers. "What if that star is too far away to reach?" Jungwon took her hands, his gaze intense. “Then I’ll climb every mountain, cross every ocean, and travel the whole universe just to be with that star. Which is you.” "Me?" Without breaking character, Jungwon closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers. He was still holding her hand, gently squeezing it. Despite her irritation, a flutter of excitement raced through her as their lips met, leaving her speechless. As they broke apart, the audience erupted in applause. The curtains closed, signaling the end of the play.

"WHAT THE HELL Jungwon?! That was not in the script!"

Jungwon chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I know, dumbass. I did it on purpose."

“On purpose? Are you trying to ruin everything?” Y/N crossed her arms, torn between annoyance and the thrill of what had just happened.

“Come on, Y/N! We’re supposed to sell the romance. That kiss? It was the spark the audience needed! Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it!” Jungwon leaned closer, grinning.

Y/N's expression softened, a soft smile lighting up in her face. "Yeah, I guess I did."

.vmpivory    ©    all rights reserved    ━    2024

AUTHOR's NOTE i've been thinking about this for a while now and i am so excited that finally wrote this !! this is my first work on here so i hope ygs enjoyed it ! so like.. this sucks. but i tried my best TT and yes, i named the girl liv ( WHICH IS ME ) bc i'm delulu like that eheh :D

PERM TAGLiST: @wonsprincess

[shizuturnspages]

Hello, can I ask you for the headcannons of yandere Kinich and Sethos? (separately)

Of course!!!

I searched for some good pictures of them, but there aren't enough T^T

I don't know much about Sethos' character, but I tried my best to write his headcannons. Forgive me if they're inaccurate.

Anyways, here they are. Hope you enjoy <3

Yandere Kinich

❥ Kinich isn’t the loud, in-your-face type. He’s the silent, calculating motherfucker who keeps his obsession locked up tight behind that calm exterior. He’ll act all chill, but behind those eyes? He’s fucking burning with possessive desire. You won’t even know you’re trapped until it’s too late, because he’s got that smooth manipulation down to a fucking science.

❥ Kinich isn’t the type to make his presence obvious, but trust me, he’s always watching. Every move you make, every word you say—it’s all logged in his mind. He knows your habits better than you do, and he’ll use that knowledge to keep you in check. You think you’re doing something out of free will, but it’s all part of his plan. You’re playing his game, and he’s already won.

❥ Kinich is smooth as fuck with his words, always calm, always saying the right thing. He’ll comfort you, make you feel safe, but if anyone crosses him or tries to take you away? That calm turns to fucking ruthlessness. He’ll deal with threats swiftly, efficiently, and with no remorse. And the scariest part? He’ll make it seem like it was all for your benefit, like he’s protecting you from the world.

❥ This guy doesn’t need to be aggressive to control you. He’ll use that sharp mind of his to manipulate you into thinking you need him. Every conversation, every interaction is carefully crafted to pull you closer, make you more dependent on him. You’ll start to believe that he’s the only one who understands you, the only one who can keep you safe. It’s fucking terrifying how easily he’ll twist your mind without you even realizing it.

❥ Kinich won’t come off as possessive at first. No, he’s too smart for that shit. He’ll wrap his obsession in concern, in care. He’ll say he’s just looking out for you, that he wants what’s best for you. But underneath all that sweetness? He’s fucking claiming you, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left that’s yours. Your thoughts, your actions, your fucking soul—it all belongs to him. And the worst part? He’ll make you thank him for it.

Yandere Sethos

❥ Sethos is smooth as hell. He’s got that charm, that charisma that pulls you in like a moth to a flame. But underneath that charming innocent smile is a fucking storm of obsession. He’ll make you feel like the most important person in the world, but once you’re in his grasp? That charm turns into a weapon. He’ll use it to manipulate you, to keep you close, and to make sure you never, ever leave his side.

❥ Sethos doesn’t fuck around when it comes to control. He’ll make sure every aspect of your life revolves around him. You won’t even notice it at first—he’s too fucking smart for that. He’ll slowly weave himself into everything you do, until he’s the one pulling all the strings. You’ll feel like you can’t breathe without him, and that’s exactly how he wants it. Every move you make is under his watchful gaze, and good luck trying to slip away. You can’t escape the fucking web he’s spun around you.

❥ Sethos doesn’t just love—he consumes. His affection is all-encompassing, and he’ll make sure you know that you’re the center of his world. But here’s the fucking twist: his love is dangerous as hell. Anyone who gets too close to you? They’re fucking gone. He’ll smile through the bloodshed, making sure you know that no one is allowed to take his place by your side. His love comes with a body count, and he’s not afraid to add to it if anyone even thinks about touching you.

❥ You think you can run? Fucking think again. Sethos is relentless when it comes to keeping you close. He’s not just physically strong—he’s fucking brilliant. He’ll always be one step ahead, knowing your plans before you even make them. Try to leave him, and you’ll find every door closed, every path blocked. You’re not getting away, no matter how hard you try. And the worst part? He’ll make you feel like there’s no place safer than right by his side, even though he’s the danger you should be running from.

❥ To Sethos, his obsession isn’t just love—it’s fucking devotion. He’ll worship you in his own twisted way, making sure you know you’re his entire world. But that devotion comes with chains. You’ll never be free, because in his mind, you belong to him, completely. And he won’t let anyone, not even you, change that. His eyes will always be on you, filled with a fierce, terrifying love that burns hotter than anything you’ve ever experienced. You’re his, and he’ll make damn sure you never forget it.