#either way Autumn makes me happy happy happy

[snimbusjavy]

Against all odds, i'm still alive

[earthtooz]

cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain

my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...

he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.

you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.

aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.

you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.

a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.

during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.

ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.

your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.

the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.

"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.

"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.

"make haste, then," he urges.

during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.

despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.

(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)

he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.

but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.

it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.

ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.

perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.

and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.

he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.

when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.

you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.

[navybrat817]

Within You

Pairing: Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze. Word Count: Over 3.2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, DUBCON, unprotected vaginal sex, semi-public, breeding kink, spooky vibes, established relationship, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Welcome to Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks to @ghotifishreads who suggested soft!dark Bucky with a breeding kink and @tumblin-theworldaway for listening to me (s)cream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @vonalyn ​, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was your first Autumn with Bucky. The two of you had been dating for less than a year, but you were completely enamored with him. Not only was he doting and smart, but he was a man who made your heart flutter in your chest whenever he looked your way. Even thinking about him sets your heart ablaze. He was the one for you.

“Come on,” you smiled as you took his hand and pulled him toward the pumpkin patch entrance.

The two of you took turns regarding date nights and outings. Today, you chose a pumpkin patch. You told him it wouldn’t feel like Fall if you didn’t go and listed off the fun things to do. There was a hayride, pumpkins and apples to pick, a corn maze, and much more. He obliged since he knew it would make you happy. He even gave you a small smile when you told him the website claimed that the maze was tricky, but you knew he’d find his way out easily.

You stopped and inhaled the cool air, the scent of warm apple cider drifting your way from the stand nearby. The temperature dropped just enough that you were comfortable in a sweater and the sun peeked out through the clouds to greet you. It wasn't overly crowded and it was the perfect weather. Even better because you had the perfect man by your side.

It was going to be a good day.

“Where should we start?” You asked, smiling when a small group of kids headed toward one of the tractors. “Hayride? Pick a pumpkin to carve later?”

“Where do you want to start?” Bucky replied, a small breeze blowing some of his dark brown hair back.

Your answer died in your throat as you gazed at him. His hair was the third thing you noticed about him, long enough that it almost touched his shoulders and soft to the touch. You loved running your fingers through it, whether it was to soothe him and pull it when he was between your thighs. The second thing you took notice of was the massive size of your now boyfriend. Over 6’4” with broad shoulders, a puffed out chest, and thighs made for riding, he intimated most while he excited you.

His cool blue eyes, of course, were the first thing. Gazing into them was like swimming in a private sea, ready to ride a gentle wave or get swept away in a storm depending on his mood. You could handle the entire range of emotions because you were his girl. It was that simple.

“You’re staring, doll,” he smiled, your cheeks warm at being caught. If any other guy called you "doll", it would've sounded silly. It was endearing coming from him.

“Well, I can't help it. You’re gorgeous,” you said.

“You are gorgeous,” he argued, the compliment sending more heat to your cheeks.

“You said that this morning,” you teased. The two of you moved in together recently and you had a hard time getting out of bed some days. Waking up beside him was like a dream, but it was your reality.

“And I'll say it again,” he smiled before a girl stopped in front of the two of you with a tray.

“Hi,” she greeted with an ear-to-ear smile. “Would either of you care for a sample of cider? We have warm and chilled.”

“Ooh,” you smiled, glancing between the cups. You loved apple cider. “I'll take warm, please.”

“Same. Thanks,” Bucky said, selecting cups for each of you. He blew on his before he drank it, a weird look crossing his face as he swallowed. “Is something on the bottom of my cup?”

“Nothing on mine,” you said, glancing at his cup once you tried your cider. “I think it's a sticker. Is it a cauldron?”

“Oh! You got the lucky, special sample!” the girl grinned as you and Bucky shared a confused look. She balanced the tray in one hand as she handed your boyfriend an orange coupon and took the empty cups from you. “Free cider for two. Enjoy!”

“Thanks,” Bucky said before she went to give samples to others.

“Lucky guy,” you smiled, raising an eyebrow as he slowly licked his lips. “You okay?”

He blinked and nodded. “Yeah. Was just warmer than I expected.”

“You didn't burn your tongue, did you?”

“No, but you should massage your tongue with mine anyway,” he half joked.

You smiled and nodded toward the maze. “Why don’t we check that out first?”

“So, you’d rather check out a maze instead of soothing your boyfriend's tongue?”

You giggled as you made your way to the start, grabbing a small sheet of paper. There were different sets of “animal tracks” to find throughout the maze. Anyone who found them all got a prize. “Why check out a maze when I can check you out?” You asked, unable to keep a straight face. “That was cheesy.”

“It wasn’t cheesy,” he said before his smile widened. “It was corny.”

“Oh, my god,” you laughed more. One thing about your boyfriend, he could always bring a smile to your face. “You think you’re so…”

A little boy ran out of the maze with a smile before he lost his footing and pitched forward, his sheet of paper floating to the ground as it flew from his hand. You rushed over to help when he began to cry, carefully helping the poor child sit up. “Ouch,” he sniffled.

“Hey. You okay?” you gently asked, making sure to keep your demeanor calm as you brushed some of the dirt away. You also grabbed his sheet before it could blow away. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”

He wiped his face and pointed to his knee once he rolled up his pant leg. “Right here.”

“Okay. Let’s take a look,” you nodded as Bucky joined you, crouching down on the other side of the boy. He looked worried, too. Minus the small scrape, he looked fine overall. “Poor little guy. Scrapes are no fun. But you know what? You’re a strong little boy.”

“I am?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yeah. Very strong,” Bucky agreed. "My girl wouldn't lie to you."

It was sweet how he spoke of you. “And you found all the animals, so you get a prize,” you smiled, showing him his paper where all of them were shaded. “You’re strong and smart,” you added, which brought a smile to his face, too.

“Timmy!” a woman shouted as she jogged out to the maze. “I told you not to run off. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he replied, taking your hand so you could get him to his feet. “Hurts, but I’m strong and smart.”

Timmy’s mom bent down to inspect his knee herself before she gave you a relieved smile. “Thank you for helping him. How can I repay you?”

“That's not necessary. We're glad we could help,” you said, making sure he had his sheet. “You enjoy your prize and listen to your mom, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded, waving as he went with his mom. “Thanks!”

“Cute little guy,” you smiled as Bucky slowly stood up. Your boyfriend had a few expressions that you were used to seeing, but you couldn’t read the current look he gave you. It was as if he was seeing you in a different light. “What?”

“Why haven't I knocked you up yet?"

You opened your mouth to say something, a feverish and unexpected heat moving through your body. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard what I said,” he said, his piercing gaze rooting you to the spot. “Just wondering why I haven't."

Though you knew Bucky was the man for you, the topic of kids hadn’t come up much. Partially because you hadn’t been together a year yet. Wouldn’t it be too soon to have a little one running around when you weren’t even engaged? Not that the two of you had to get married to have kids.

Maybe him seeing me comfort Timmy brought it to the front of his mind.

“I don’t know, Bucky. Why haven’t you knocked me up yet?” you teased. You almost shrank under his gaze a moment later when he didn’t laugh or crack a smile.

“Maybe I should. We can go home and get started right now,” he said. There was no hint of a joke in his tone. “This would be a fun place to bring our kids one day. Don't you think?"

“Why don’t we talk about it after the maze?”

He looked hurt for a split second and you almost assured you weren’t blowing him off. You wouldn't do that. It was merely a serious talk for another time. “Sure. After the maze,” he agreed, taking your hand as you made your way back over.

A chill ran down your spine when you walked through the entrance. It was strange. You weren’t afraid, especially since it wasn’t dark outside. So where did the unexpected chill come from?

“You okay?” Bucky asked, his voice a little rougher than usual as his grip tightened on your hand. Did he feel weird being in here, too? “I didn't freak you out, did I?”

“I'm fine and you didn't freak me out. You know you can tell me anything,” you replied, shaking it off the chill as the two of you began to walk through. The maze took up almost a third of the entire place, the stalks high enough that neither of you could see over them. “I think we should find the werewolf tracks first. Because they're one of your favorite animals.”

Before you could turn right down one of the paths, he brought his mouth close to your face. “That and I wouldn’t mind sinking my teeth in and leaving my mark on you.”

The breath rushed out of your lungs when you turned your head and caught the darkness in his eyes. His pupils were larger than normal as he stepped closer, almost backing you into the corn. “Is that right?”

“And you’ll let me,” he said, your heart racing as he leaned in. His kisses stole the breath from your lungs and your eyes slipped shut just before his lips touched yours. “Won’t you?”

“After we find the first set of tracks,” you whispered, pressing your hands to his chest so he’d back away.

He didn’t budge.

“Seriously, doll. Why haven’t I knocked you up yet?”

This again?

“I thought we were going to talk about that after we got out of here,” you reminded him, stepping to the side to go further down the path. “Where is this coming from anyway?”

“Been thinking about it for some time. I just haven’t said so,” he answered as he followed close behind. Was he afraid to say something before because it was too soon? That admitting it would scare you off? “Now that I'm talking about it, I can't stop.”

You were tempted to make a joke that there was something in his special cider sample making him talk. “You're serious about this?”

“You moved in with me. We love each other. I want a life with you. Of course, I'm serious.”

Glancing over your shoulder to find him watching you, you couldn’t help but smile. “I love you, too, Bucky,” you promised before you focused on the path again. You weren’t sure just how far the two of you had walked through. “But something like that is-”

You shrieked when Bucky spun you around by the shoulder, a wild look in his eyes before his mouth met yours in a persistent kiss. Compelling desire moved through you, but it didn’t matter how much you wanted him. The two of you were still in public. There were families around.

This wasn’t the time or place for this.

He broke the kiss before he shoved you almost painfully to your knees. He was never that forceful. “I’ll lose my mind if I’m not inside you.”

“Bucky, what the hell?!” you asked as he moved behind you and dropped to his knees, too. He yanked your pants and underwear down before you could stop him. Did you want to stop him? “We’re in a maze. What if someone catches us?”

He scoffed as he pushed you forward, forcing you to brace yourself with your hands. The cool breeze touched your exposed pussy, sending another chill down your spine. “You think I care if anyone catches us? I need you and they can’t stop me. They'll see that you're mine.”

The corn seemed to move in closer as you heard him unbuckle his belt, as if to give you some privacy. It had to be your mind playing tricks on you. “I'm already yours. Can you just slow down for a second?”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he swore, clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Bucky sheathed you in one hard thrust, your cry smothered by his hand. You admitted to him once that he was the largest you’d ever had, which he both loved and hated. While it made him feel good that your ex-boyfriends weren’t as big as him, could never stretch you the way he could, he hated thinking of anyone else being inside you. He liked to remind you that no one else ever would be. And because of his size, he usually took great care in prepping you.

His need must’ve clouded him, the burn from the stretch more intense than usual.

“I’m sorry, doll. I don't know what's come over me. I can’t help myself,” he apologized again as if he sensed your discomfort, your cunt gripping his cock like a vice as you breathed through your nose. “But it’s okay. I’ll make you feel good. Just take me.”

You whined as he nearly pulled out completely and shoved himself back in as deep as he could go. That was your only warning before he set a steady pace, your hands fisting the dirt and your ears ringing as blood surged through your veins. It wasn’t long before your wetness coated his cock, the burn fading to pleasure from the friction. He fucked you before, but it was nothing like this. Bucky was like a man possessed. No, not even a man. More like a wild animal rutting into you, claiming you.

Where anyone could stumble along and find you.

“So soft. So warm,” he groaned, leaving sloppy kisses along your neck. “So fucking good.”

You tried to push yourself higher on your hands and knees for better support, but the force of his thrusts surged you forward. Removing his hand from your mouth, he placed it on the back of your neck as your cheek hit the dirt. The hold gave him leverage to fuck you deeper with your ass in the air. The soil felt cool in contrast to the hot palm against your skin.

“Better keep quiet,” he warned you, even as the angle sparked ecstasy within you. All you could do was bite your lip to try and keep the sounds in as much as possible. “Or do you want someone to catch me breeding you?”

“What?” you gasped, unable to lift your head as a new sensation hit you.

“You heard me,” he growled, draping himself over your back and maintaining his harsh pace as he breathed against your ear. “Gonna breed you. Gonna fucking drown your womb with my seed. ‘Cause you’re mine. All. Fucking. Mine.”

The sweet doting boyfriend you were used to was nowhere to be found as his cock wrecked your cunt. Was there something unexplainable causing him to act this way or had he been holding back? You would question him later. For now, you could only go limp as he fucked you into the dirt with vigor. And it felt good. You couldn't deny it.

“Gonna be so full of me. Fuck, you’ll look so beautiful carrying my baby,” he grunted, barely able to make out his words his thrusts increased in speed and strength. The slap of skin on skin filled the air and you almost had to cover your mouth yourself to stop your mewls. “Your belly round. Your tits nice and full. Might keep you knocked up so you remember who you belong to.”

The image of Bucky with his hand on your belly filled your mind, sending jolts of unexpected pleasure down to your toes. “I can’t take it, Bucky,” you gasped, even as you felt the tug of your building climax ready to snap. “It’s too much.”

With a deceptively soft kiss to your neck, followed by a small nuzzle, Bucky let out a deep moan. “You can take it. You always do ‘cause you’re mine. My good girl,” he rambled on as you whined, the wet slide of your pussy squeezing him tighter as you got closer. “Need to pump you full. Need your cunt to milk every drop from me. You want it. I know it. Come.”

You couldn’t hold on any longer, your fingers curling in the dirt again as you came with a cry. You were overwhelmed by the pure bliss, shocked at just how powerful your orgasm was. He hadn’t teased your clit, yet you gushed around him like he had. The squelching sound blended in with your whimpers as he fucked you through it.

Maybe you liked the idea of him breeding you more than you realized.

“That’s it, doll,” he groaned as he chased his release. “Take it. Every. Fucking. Drop.”

Bucky's rhythm faltered as his cock pulsed, spilling inside you with a growl. He kept his hips flush against yours as he breathed raggedly against your neck, keeping your bodies joined together for as long as he could. He didn’t move until he began to soften, making a whimper spill from your lips when he pulled out of you. His fingers quickly replaced his cock to keep his spend from sliding out of you.

“You okay, doll?” he asked, his voice still a touch of gruff mixed with softness. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“Mmm,” was the only response you could give him.

It was like a switch had gone off as he helped you up, keeping you from collapsing as he got your underwear and pants up. He wiped as much of the dirt away with his hands as he could, softness in his eyes once again. Minus his disheveled hair, he looked fine. Like he hadn't just fucked you in the corn maze.

You two were lucky you hadn't gotten caught.

He hugged you as close as he could while you tried to make sense of his behavior. Whatever raging beast was inside him was satisfied for the time being. But what came over him?

Large hands framed your face as you tried to get your shaking under control. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you mumbled.

“I’ll draw us a bath when we get home, okay? Get you cleaned up and make sure you aren't too sore,” he offered with a tender kiss to your lips. “After I throw out your birth control pills. You won’t need those anymore.”

So, how are we feeling? What do we think? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[casuallyimagining]

refuge | xmh

xu minghao x reader

"they're so loud." genre: fluff | wc: 592 | warnings: none

For the briefest of moments, the sound of laughter and old friends reminiscing bubbles up and punctures your quiet little hideaway outside. It’s a little chilly–autumn finally has the early October nights in its clutches–but you managed to turn on the small fire table before settling into a corner of the wicker sofa with your book. The noise dies down with the sound of the patio door sliding shut, and it takes only a moment more for the cause to appear.

Minghao leans down, presses a kiss into your hair, and hums at the warmth that the fire table gives off. “You’re quite cozy out here,” he notes, settling down into the space beside you. “I brought you some tea.”

You take the offered cup gratefully, setting your book down spine-up in your lap. “You lasted far longer in there than I expected.”

“They’re so loud,” he whines, a pained look crossing his face. 

“You love them.”

Just then, as if to punctuate his point, you can hear shouting from inside. Vaguely, you can make out Seungkwan’s voice. Hao looks at you flatly, as if to say ‘see?’

You bat at his chest playfully and you both laugh. It fades to quiet after a moment, and the silence of the night envelops you again. You pick your book back up and lean forward to set your mug on the edge of the fire table before cozying back into the sofa. Hao moves over, almost imperceptibly, but you can feel his body pressing into your side, and you wrap an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer.

Beside you, you can feel Minghao relax, his breathing evening out as he drifts into his thoughts. You let your focus fall back into your book, and for a while, you sit there together, completely at peace.

“We should get one of these for the balcony.” Hao’s voice is soft, and when you look up, he’s staring into the fire.

“Add it to the list.”

And he smiles. A soft, shy little thing that he tries to hide behind his cup of tea. The two of you have been half-joking about moving in together for months. It’s not the right time for either of you–he’s busy and your lease is nowhere near up–but the promise of more keeps you going.

The noise bubbles up again as the door opens, and Soonyoung’s voice punches out into the night. “Minghao! Come back inside and play with us! Vernon went to sleep and we need even teams.”

Hao shoots you a pointed look. “Loud,” he repeats, just loud enough for you to hear. 

You giggle. “Go in and spend time with your friends.” You kiss him quickly, his soft lips moulding against yours for the briefest of moments. “I’ll be in soon. I just want to finish this chapter.”

“Minghao!” Soonyoung yells again, and even without looking at him, you can tell he’s taken a step outside toward the two of you.

Hao rolls his eyes and kisses you quickly before standing. He takes his teacup with him. “I will give you 5 million won to forget my name,” he tells Soonyoung, and the older man giggles like a deranged toddler. 

The ghost of a smile graces your lips as you watch your partner disappear into the house. The night once again goes silent. You know he’s not always up for the raucous energy of his 12 chaotic brothers, but you’re always happy to be here when it gets too much. You’ll never tire of being his refuge.

minghao has really dug himself into the soft spot in my heart recently. I love him a whole lot, and I need more minghao content in my life. if you've got any recs, send them my way, but in the meantime, let me know what you thought of this, maybe?

[luna-azzurra]

Hii I love your blog sm ur an angel 🩷. Could you please do like a list or something with examples of nicknames for friends?

I write fanfics in english but it's not my first language so it's a bit difficult for me, thanks 🩷

Heyyy, I'm glad that my blog helps you! 🩷 I’ve written down a bunch of my favorite nicknames, along with what they mean and the vibes they give off. 

Adorable & Affectionate Nicknames

Sweetie: Simple and cute, it’s like the classic nickname when one friend is always comforting the other.

Pumpkin: It’s got that old-fashioned, “you’re my little ball of sunshine” vibe.

Honeybun: Ultimate cozy nickname. You’d call someone this if they’re the nurturing, always-got-your-back kind of friend.

Snugglebug: It’s for the friend who’s all about giving hugs or being there when you need emotional support.

Cupcake: You know that friend who just makes you smile? That’s your cupcake.

Button: This one’s cute for a friend who’s small or just makes you go “aww” all the time.

Playful & Silly Nicknames

Spud: A potato, but in the best way. Perfect for that lazy but lovable friend.

Bean: It’s random but super cute, especially for a friend who’s quirky and fun.

Squishy: For the friend who’s soft, either physically or emotionally, and just huggable.

Giggles: You know that friend who’s always laughing at literally everything? Yeah, this is for them.

Waffles: No reason. Just waffles. It’s silly, weird, and perfect for a random nickname.

Pipsqueak: For the friend who’s short but feisty, like they’re small but will 100% fight you.

Personality-Based Nicknames

Ace: For the friend who’s always on top of their game, whether it’s in school, sports, or life in general.

Firecracker: You’ve got that one friend who’s all energy and attitude? Yep, this one’s for them.

Tiger: Strong, fierce, and maybe a little protective, this is for a friend who’s bold and confident.

Champ: For the friend who’s always winning at life, no matter what they do.

Professor: You know that super smart friend who’s always dropping random knowledge? This one’s for them.

Rocket: This is for the friend who’s always moving a mile a minute, constantly going somewhere or doing something.

Sparky: For the friend who’s got a quick wit or just a lot of energy. It’s short, fun, and full of personality.

Scout: For that adventurous friend who’s always trying new things or planning cool trips.

Nature-Inspired Nicknames

Rosebud: Cute and delicate, perfect for a friend who’s sweet or still growing into themselves.

Buttercup: It’s soft and nurturing, like the friend who’s always there when you need a shoulder to cry on.

Bluebell: Dreamy and whimsical, like someone who’s got their head in the clouds in a totally charming way.

Clover: Lucky charm vibes. This could be for someone who just brings good things into your life.

Lilac: Soft, calming, and just pretty. It’s for someone who makes everything feel more peaceful.

Maple: This gives cozy autumn vibes. It’s for a friend who feels like home or just brings warmth wherever they go.

Food-Inspired Nicknames

Peach: For someone who’s sweet and sunny. It’s a soft, affectionate name for a friend who just makes everything better.

Cookie: Comforting, dependable, and someone who’s always there when you need them. Total softie vibes.

Marshmallow: Soft, squishy, and maybe a little sensitive, but in a totally lovable way.

Gummy Bear: Cute, bouncy energy.

Dumpling: Another soft, squishy one. It’s perfect for a friend who’s a bit quiet but full of warmth.

If you need even more, I’m happy to help! 😊

[unclassifiedaddict]

—okay okay okay so since Autumn has hectic storms by most of the occasion... FYODOR easily catches common colds every now and then. (Despite how pathetic it was, you couldn't blame him anyway. It's sort of endearing as well so at least that's a plus?)

—Thinking how Fyodor would be rather annoyed by his poor state of health and low immunity... He was never really the type to "cling" but having to be restricted in the bedroom alone does make the man long for your appearance.

—You try, mostly, yet there's never truly enough time for you to completely spend on caring for Fyodor. And by caring, it's more on "showing your face personally to make him happy," kind of caring... Seriously, he's lucky that you love him. Could you even imagine how stupid that sounds?

—anyway.

—Whenever you do indeed have the time, however, you'll make attempts on doing stuff for him. Reason being? Only to make Fyodor feel more special during being sick. (He feels absolutely disgusting in this state, doesn't he?)

—Whether it'd be baking some miniature Russian goods or saccharine drinks — you'd often spot him blankly staring out the window to a scenery cast in reds, yellows, oranges, browns... Blanket draped over his shoulders as he held closely a nutrition drink in hand. Walking over and gently hugging him (while actively ignoring the potential of catching that same illness, who cares about that <3)

—You couldn't tell it exactly but you knew that Fyodor was smiling internally. His body leaning into your touch, how he shifts slightly over the covers to be slightly closer...

—...Either way it's just the way Dostoevsky likes it.

a/n: crying over how I had to rewrite this over seven times until I decided to make this a hc post. save me. please. (not proofread)

2/8 for my mini masterlist -—

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 ✩࿐

pairings: kazuha, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, kissing, mutual pining, pocky game

summary: in which you convince your best friend to play the pocky game with you.

a/n: i don't know why i've suddenly developed an obsession with kissing. either way, please enjoy reading!

“I’m sorry. I must have heard you incorrectly,” KAZUHA says with a smile. A slight dusting of rose pink tints his cheeks a hue reminiscent of bygone sunsets as he shyly glances away from you. “But if I wasn’t mistaken, then I wouldn’t be opposed to your idea,” he whispers.

Your heart skips a beat.

Kazuha is charming beyond measure. His words flow like an autumn breeze, and the way he acts around you never fails to make your heart flutter.

“Then let’s play the Pocky game,” you repeat yourself.

Kazuha’s grin widens. “So my ears weren’t deceiving me,” he says, trailing off towards the end. He meets your gaze, and as you look into his eyes, you swear you can see molten ruby glints of adoration glittering in their depths. However, you don’t want to get your hopes up, so you brush it off as nothing more than your imagination playing tricks on you.

Kazuha gently reaches out for the pack of Pocky you’re holding and opens it. He takes one stick out and sets the rest of the pack down on a nearby table.

“Shall we?” he asks.

He lifts the Pocky up to your lips, and you bite down. You immediately notice that he ended up giving you the side that you prefer. It shocks you how well he remembers the little things. Even though you’re best friends, you didn’t expect Kazuha to recall such an obscure intricacy. It was just something you had offhandedly mentioned once, yet in Kazuha’s mind, it was a statement that remained vivid and bright, akin to the most picturesque of memories.

He must really care about you.

Kazuha bites the other end, and as he does, you feel your skin heating up. He’s so close. It feels like your brain is short-circuiting. Why does your best friend have to be so undeniably handsome? Up close, it is impossible for you to miss his snowy hair, reminiscent of dazzling glacial glimmers of winter, as well as eyes filled with flurries of autumn maple leaves dancing about, mingling with flecks of stardust.

The two of you nibble at your respective ends of the Pocky stick. To your slight dismay, Kazuha takes his time, savouring the moment instead of trying to rush things. You feel yourself getting more flustered by the second. While he had initially appeared slightly shy, he’s now completely calm and composed, and in stark contrast to him, you’re an absolute mess on the inside.

Before you know it, your lips are practically touching Kazuha’s. He’s so close. You can feel his breath fanning your face, and soft strands of platinum hair tickle your skin.

You freeze up. Now your brain has really stopped functioning. You can’t do anything while Kazuha is this close to you, and you doubt you’ll be able to make another move before Kazuha does something. Why did you think this was a good idea again?

Luckily for you, Kazuha takes the initiative of snapping you out of your trance by taking the last bite. Your lips meet for just a split second before both of you pull away, looking anywhere but each other as you immerse yourselves in the afterglow of your actions.

A silence hangs in the atmosphere for what feels like an eternity before Kazuha speaks.

“I’m sorry if I was a bit too bold with my advances,” Kazuha says apologetically. He manages to muster the courage to look at you, and as you scan his face, you notice a whole plethora of emotions swimming through his expression. Your best friend smiles at you sheepishly.

Your heart melts upon seeing his grin.

You shake your head. “No, don’t worry. I actually kind of enjoyed it, even the part where we kissed…” you admit shyly.

Kazuha breathes out a sigh of relief. He seems strangely happy.

“Then in that case, please allow me to request a favour,” Kazuha says. He waits for you to nod before continuing. “This may be a bit presumptuous of me, but please kiss me again — properly, this time.”

“You can’t be serious,” your best friend says without a hint of hesitation lacing his words. SCARAMOUCHE’s eyes narrow as he reciprocates your stare.

“But I am,” you reiterate.

He shakes his head and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Strands of hair spun of the midnight sky fall in front of his eyes as he moves, and his breath hitches for just a moment when he realizes you’re not kidding.

“This is ridiculous,” he mumbles before he takes a packet of Pocky off his bedside table. With a few tugs, the silvery wrapping tears apart. He takes out a singular stick of the sweet treat.

“Will you shut up if I do this for you?” he asks.

“I will,” you promise, although you have no intention of adhering to your agreement.

Scaramouche always acts as if he’s irritated by you, but you know he enjoys your company. On occasions as rare as an appearance of the northern lights, he admits that he cares for you, making your heart glow up with all the colours of the brilliant Aurora Borealis.

You know him better than anyone, but what you’re not sure of is how he’ll react to playing the Pocky game with you. Most of the time, he’s quite stoic — apathetic despite the sentiments and colours of the world that flow on the wind.

But no one would be able to maintain a calm demeanour when they’re practically kissing their best friend, right?

It’s time to find out.

“You can have the side dipped in chocolate,” Scaramouche says. “And don’t you dare think I’m doing this for you. I just happen to hate sweets.”

You giggle. “Sure,” you say playfully. You know that Scaramouche is telling the truth, but it’s always fun to tease him because it elicits the best reactions.

However this time, Scaramouche just groans and holds up a stick of Pocky.

“Get to it before I change my mind,” he tells you.

Scaramouche lifts the treat up to his lips and sinks his teeth into the plain end. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to make a move. You bite down on your end, and you feel your face heat up. You’re too flustered by your proximity to your best friend to notice the sweet taste of chocolate bursting in your mouth.

Gradually, you nibble at the chocolate-coated snack while Scaramouche does the same. It seems like neither of you are feeling too bold at the moment; however, you still inch closer and closer with every passing second.

It’s painfully slow, and as time drags on, the rate of your heartbeat only starts increasing. Each excruciating second undergoes a metamorphosis into a century as your best friend’s blush-tinted face draws closer to your own.

And finally, when only a few centimetres remain between the two of you, he stops. You’re frozen in place too, and as you gaze into his eyes, everything around you becomes irrelevant — mere specks of fading supernovas in a galaxy of wonders.

Your breath hitches.

In all your years of knowing Scaramouche, he has never appeared this shy before. It’s endearing, heart-warming. Who knew that this adorable side to him existed?

One second…

Two seconds…

And three seconds pass.

Before Scaramouche finally decides to make a move. He leans in. Closer and closer.

You tense up, but at the same time, you feel yourself melt into an amalgamation of giddiness. You’re ready for whatever will happen next.

You feel the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, almost anticipating a kiss, but thankfully, your hopes aren’t too high. Because just when Scaramouche’s lips barely ghost yours, causing your heart to flutter like maple leaves in autumn wind, he pulls back, snapping off the last bit of Pocky.

“I win,” Scaramouche says after swallowing the final piece. His face is adorned with a smirk and a proud expression that you just know you’ll be seeing for the next few days.

“I guess so,” you sigh, admitting defeat. “But don’t act like you weren’t blushing like crazy a few seconds ago!”

Scaramouche freezes for a second before crossing his arms. “I did no such thing.”

“Oh, really?” you question.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groans. He narrows his eyes at you, refusing to admit that he had allowed you to glimpse into his heart and learn the true nature of his feelings.

However, as your conversation continues, shades of sunset begin to dust his cheeks once more, dawning on his pale complexion like the most serene instances of carefree days bleeding into vivid nightfalls.

“This is foolish,” XIAO says bluntly, staring at you intently with eyes full of honeyed sunlight as you open a pack of Pocky.

He’s not impressed, and you can tell. However, you know that even though Xiao acts as though he’s unwilling to partake in the little game you proposed, he’s not actually against it. He’s your best friend, and after years of growing up together, you’re sure that he’ll do anything to make you happy, especially if it’s something as trivial as this.

“I know,” you respond nonchalantly. You’ve learned how to deal with Xiao’s tough-on-the-outside attitude by now. Deep down, you know that first of all, as a more reserved person, he doesn’t have the most profound understanding of others, so he might find some of their games rather absurd. Secondly, he’s not great at expressing his emotions, so even though he sounds angry or irritated at times, you understand him well enough to read him like a book.

Xiao merely sighs quietly in response. “Let’s get this over with.” He looks down at the ground, and for a second, you swear you can see the beginnings of a blush coming to life on his face.

You nod and take out a stick of Pocky. You put one end in your mouth and soon enough, Xiao follows your lead.

At first, he stares at you with uncertainty swimming within the daffodil hues of his irises. He’s a little confused, and you don’t blame him. Xiao isn’t someone who usually spends a lot of time with others, so he’s not familiar with things like the latest trends and popular games.

However, he quickly picks up on what he’s supposed to do when you take a bite of the chocolate-coated treat. Xiao follows in your lead, and although each nibble he takes seems slightly hesitant, you note that he’s still trying his best for you. It nearly makes your heart melt into an amalgamation of butterflies.

Xiao seems to be getting more and more flustered by the second. As you inch closer to him, you almost feel as though you can sense the rapid beating of his heart sending reverberations through the air, creating echoes that tell tales of unspoken emotions and unexplored sentiments.

And before you know it, his face is barely an inch away from yours. You can feel his breath tickling your skin and the heat radiating off his face.

The sight of Xiao acting endearingly shy is something you barely ever see. Sure he’s proven to you that he cares for you multiple times, but he’s never been this flustered before. Most of the time, you’re the one who ends up like that around him. Whether it’s a situation where Xiao walks by the side of the road, keeping you as far away from danger as possible whenever you go out for strolls or a scenario where he awkwardly hugs you after a bad day, you can’t help but blush in his presence.

This time, things are the same yet so, so, different. As always, your heart feels as though it’s reeling and on the verge of exploding due to your proximity to Xiao. The only thing that’s changed is the look on Xiao’s face — eyes shining with affection and cheeks tinted with a hue reminiscent of cherry blossoms in the spring divulge feelings that you have long been waiting to see.

The world around you freezes, and for a paradoxical second in a universe where time is infinite, Xiao is the only one in your thoughts, and you’re sure that it’s the same on his end. Everything is nonsensical for a moment, and you don’t know who makes the first move, but soon enough, your lips meet, shattering the perfect dimension you and Xiao have crafted.

For a brief flash of time, you feel yourself kissing Xiao. It’s everything you had imagined and more. Your heart skips a beat, and stars seem to illuminate your world as you relish in the soft feelings that spring from the contact. But to your dismay, the whole experience is over just as quickly as it had begun.

Both you and Xiao pull away when you realize what you’ve done. You both avoid eye contact, shyly averting your gazes so that you can’t see the other. For a few awkward moments, silence hangs in the air.

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you say, mustering up the courage to take a peek at Xiao.

He nods in agreement, looking back at you.

But deep down, the two of you know that there’s nothing you long for more than another kiss.

thank you for reading! i'm sorry if this wasn’t that good. i’ve been really busy with finals and assignments, so i don’t have quite as much time to write. please consider commenting/reblogging if you enjoyed this!

[hellsenthero]

A Brothers Mate

Azriel X FemReader X Cassian

You knew there was more between Azriel and Cassian, despite others' opinions of the two. You were okay with that, their relationship, but seeing your mate's happy without you was killing you.

Warnings/Themes: Smut, Language, (2.7K Words.)

MASTERLIST

-----

You knew the Illyrians were closer than they let on. Others said that the two were raised as brothers, and that may be true, but the sentiment of brotherhood had clearly changed over the centuries. Brothers didn’t look at each other like that.

Azriel leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a few of his shadows gently swirling around him. Rhys and Mor were talking about some wine and who'd drank more of it the night before. Cassian was sitting comfortably in an armchair adjacent to Mor. One hand hung limp over the side, the other clasped around a glass of amber liquid. You sat on the couch, beside Rhys, listening to the heated debate. You listened, but your gaze was focused on the Shadowsinger and the War Lord. It was small, casual–the glances they shared, but you didn't fail to notice the rosy tint to Cassian’s cheeks or the shy little uptilt of Azriel’s lips.

It was sweet to see the love the two shared. You supported it, you wanted the best for them, but Mother above, it was heartbreaking. It was heartbreaking because you knew they didn't feel the same about you.

“Well,” you drawled, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “I'd hate to cut this riveting debate short, but I'm headed home.” You stood from your seat with a stretch and a small smile. “And it was me, by the way, that drank all the wine.” Mor and Rhys shot daggers at you with their eyes as Cassian let out a boisterous laugh.

“Should've known,” he said with a knowing look your way.

“Night all,” you said as you grabbed your things before leaving out the front door.

The air was crisp. You could smell the beginning of autumn in the air, a soft, smokey undertone that was pleasant to your senses. Your steps echoed in the night as you strolled along the paved pathways of the city. You didn't make it far before a gust of shadow swept wind brushed past you, tickling the tips of your ears.

“You don't have to walk me home.” You told the shadowsinger.

“I want to,” came Azriel's deep reply as he materialized by your side.

“I thought you'd be with Cassian right about now.” Another gust of wind picked up before a second voice answered you.

“Who says he isn't?”

You rolled your eyes at the two over protective illyrians that walked on either side of you. “Hello, Cassian.”

“Hello, sweets,”

“So you two bats are that determined to walk me home?”

“Well,” Cassian begun, nudging his shoulder against your side. “You left too soon sweets, we just wanna spend time together.”

You let out a small laugh. “Right.”

Azriel stopped you with a hand to your shoulder, his grasp was firm, but gentle.

“He's right, Y/N.”

You stepped forward and turned around to face the two males. In the low moonlight they looked even more mysterious and handsome than ever. Their wings appeared darker, more intimidating as they rose above them. You wanted to lean forward and touch the leathery membrane of their wings. You wanted to watch them shudder with pleasure from your touch, listen to their heavy breathing and deep moans. You wanted to taste them, drink their…

You breathed out and took another step back. Your wants didn't matter, the males before you weren't yours.

“You two can move on to whatever you had planned for tonight. I'll tell the others you walked me home and we had a late nightcap, if they want to know why the two of you didn't return right away.” The two males shared a look between themselves and you took that as your cue to continue on your way. You only got a few feet down the street before the males were at your side once more.

“You're more observant than you let on.” Cassian said softly.

“I'm more surprised the others haven't figured it out.” You answered.

“We've been careful. We didn't want them to know anything before you.” Azriel replied.

That comment had you pausing. “Why?”

Cassian ruffled his wings uneasily.

“Isn't it obvious?”

You wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that they felt the same about you than you did them, but you couldn't, wouldn't let yourself entertain the thought.

“No,” you said softly. You knew Cassian and Azriel could hear it for the lie it was.

Azriel stepped forward, close enough that you had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Try again.” He ordered.

You swallowed. “Yes,” you breathed.

“Say it,” Cassian begged. His signature smirk was back on his face.

“I can't,” you admitted.

“C'mon sweets, say it.”

You paused, taking the moment to cherish what was possibly the last moment of your relationship with the males before you, because if you were wrong… Cauldron, if you were wrong, you think you might break. “Because,” you began, “I'm your mate.”

The males before you smiled, even Azriel, who was always very careful with hiding his emotions.

“There you go,” Azriel said, “we've been waiting for you to admit it.”

“How long have you known?” You asked.

“Long enough,” Cassian groaned. “We thought you might say something, that you felt how we did-”

“I do.” You admitted.

“Good,” Cassian breathed. “Then let’s continue home, shall we?” Cassian swept his hand out before him, motioning to continue onwards to your little apartment in the city.

The silence that followed the three of you through the night was comfortable, more comfortable than it perhaps had ever been, now that things were out in the open.

“You don’t mind sharing?” You blurted, disrupting the silence.

Cassian chuckled. “No. Do you?”

“No,” you answered truthfully.

“This bond,” Azriel began softly, “goes three ways, Y/N. It’s not a thread that branches off between us, it’s a continuous circle.”

“A continuous circle,” you murmured. It made sense, the way they looked at each other along with the way the males spoke to you. This wasn’t just some ill fated love triangle, it was the reality you had hoped it would be.

“The snake that eats its own tail.” Cassian said as he threw his arm over your shoulder.

“We don’t want to force you to accept anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know.” You answered as you finally reached the front door of your apartment. You stopped on your front steps, pausing for a moment before facing the males just a few steps behind you. “Do you want to come in?”

Their grins were answer enough.

The War Lord and the Spymaster had envisioned this moment many times, many ways, but living it out was something entirely different.

You led them to the living room, waving a hand to the black couch that sat against the far wall. As the males took a seat you busied yourself at the bar cart. “Drink?” You asked, already pouring out a helping for yourself.

“Yes, please.” The males answered in unison.

You made quick work of getting their drinks, pouring each a generous hand of amber liquid before facing them. “When did it click for you?” You asked.

Cassian and Azriel shared a look amongst themselves before looking back at you. “Do you-” Cassian cut himself off as you straddled his lap. His breathing stuttered as Azriel adjusted himself beside the two of you. “Do you remember that party Mor threw a few months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Azriel took over for Cassian. “It clicked for both of us that night.” Your brows rose in surprise. Up until now, you had thought the two males had separate experiences with the bond.

Azriel chuckled at your look of surprise. He layed a scarred hand on your leg before continuing on and you found yourself wishing he'd trail it up higher, closer to where you needed him.

“It was when we were dancing.” Cassian admitted. “Remember when I stumbled and stepped on your toes?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled at the memory. The War Lord who was usually so balanced on his feet, stumbling on the dance floor to the point of crushing your toes. “I recall being quite upset with you for nearly breaking my toes.”

“Yes well, I was stumbling like a fool because the bond had just snapped for me.”

“I suppose in that case I can forgive you.” You purred, leaning in closer to the male. Cassian set his glass down in favour of holding onto your hips. “And you?” You asked, turning to face Azriel.

“It was when the two of you approached me at the bar that it snapped,” Azriel paused for a brief moment. “For the both of you.”

You debated asking your next question, but figured that no matter the answer, you wouldn't mind. “Have you two…”

“Fucked?” Cassian finished for you boldly.

“Very eloquent, Cas.” Azriel muttered.

“I mean, I figured you have.” You continued. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”

The males shared a look before Azriel answered. “No, we haven’t.”

“We wanted to wait for you, to at least tell you about our feelings before anything happened.” Cassian supplied.

You paused, a slow, knowing smile creeping up on your face. “You romantic fucking bastards.” The males laughed–Azriel’s hand traveled further up your leg. He was so, so close to where you wanted him. “Go higher, Shadowsinger.”

The Shadowsinger complied.

“Mother above the two of you are making me fucking hard.” Cassian groaned.

“Join in.” You demanded as you ground your hips down on his hardening length. Cassian laid one hand on top of Azriels own, right on your hip. The other hand raised to the side of your breast, caressing you over your clothing as he leaned in and began kissing up your neck.

You tilted your head to the side, giving the War Lord better access to your neck as Azriel dipped his fingers under the band of your underwear. His scar covered hand teased your slit, sliding through your wetness to find your bundle of nerves.

“Yes!” You gasped in pleasure as Azriel toyed with you.

Azriel’s warm breath ghosted over you as he chuckled. “So wet.” He murmured.

“Let me taste.” Cassian ordered.

Azriel brought his hand away from your heat and over to Cassian's open mouth. Cassian hummed around Azriels two fingers. If the moment weren’t so intimate, you would ask Feyre to paint a picture of the look in Cassian’s eyes as he licked your juices off of the Shadowsingers fingers. “My turn.” Azriel said. You expected him to dip his fingers back down into your core. Instead, Azriel pulled his fingers free from Cassian’s mouth and leaned in, kissing him.

That, was what you would get Feyre to paint if you could. The two males clung onto you as they devoured each other. Cassian’s hips shifted up, grinding into your core. “She likes it, Az.”

Azriel pulled away with a chuckle. “Of course she does.” The Shadowsingers hazel eyes met your own. “I think it’s time we move this to the bedroom.”

You didn’t take your time going to the bedroom. The three of you were a rushed mess of scattered clothes, heavy breathing and tangled limbs by the time you found yourself spread out on your sheets. “Need you,” you panted. The males in the room knew it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular.

“Need this?” Azriel asked as he slid two of his fingers inside of you.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

“That’s not an answer, sweets.” Cassian said. The War Lord was kneeling beside you, tugging at his cock as he watched Azriel pleasure you.

“Yes,” you answered. “I need this, please, don’t stop.”

“I don’t plan on it.” Azriel answered before he leaned over you. The hand that wasn’t inside you gently grabbed hold of your throat, securing you to the bed as he kissed you. His shadows caressed your body. Cool, dark tendrils that were both an extension of him and their own being entirely. Cassian’s free hand followed the shadows path along you body, bringing warmth back into your body after the shadows cool touches.

“I need more.” You demanded from the males above you. Cassian and Azriel shared a look, both pausing in their movements.

“Who do you want first?” Azriel asked.

You paused, thinking. “You,” you answered back to the Shadowsinger.

Azriel crept off your body and stood at the end of the bed. “As you wish.” He rasped as he shucked his clothing off. With each layer that fell to the floor you wanted to devour the male more and more.

You sat up in interest as Cassian moved away from your side and over to Azriel, lowering himself to his knees. “Gotta make sure you’re ready too.” Cassian said before taking Azriels length into his open mouth. You gasped at the sight of the Spymasters scarred hand clutching onto the other males hair, pulling at his locks as he fucked himself into his mouth. You couldn’t help but find the sight of Cassian on his knees to be natural. Alluring, and natural. With a gasp and a line of saliva, Cassian pulled himself off of Azriel once he deemed him ready. “Go fuck our girl.” He ordered.

And by the Caldron, did Azriel listen.

“Fuck!” You cried out as Azriel thrust relentlessly into you.

“You feel so good.” Azriel breathed.

“So, so good,” you babbled.

“Cas, help her out.” Azriel ordered.

Without removing himself from your breasts, Cassian reached a hand down and circled your bundle of nerves.

“Yes!” You screeched. Your climax came hurtling through you at the hands of your mates and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Azriel reached his end along with you, spilling himself into you with heavy breathes. Cassian ran his hands along both of your bodies with light kisses and whispered words of affection.

“Do you have enough energy to ride Cas?” Azriel asked you with a wicked grin.

“Absolutely.”

Azriel pulled himself free from you with a groan, his spend slipping out after him. Cassian was ready and waiting for you at your side, laying flat on his back. As you prepared to sink down on his length Cassian stopped you with a firm grip around the waist and a light chuckle. “Not my cock, Y/N. I want you to ride my face.” He said as he guided you to sit above him. You knew that if Azriel hadn’t just pulled an orgasm from you then Cassian’s words alone would have.

“Cas,” you gasped as he sat you right where he wanted you.

“Perfect,” Cassian murmured before licking up your core.

The War Lords mouth was absolutely sinful against your already abused core. Azriels shadows wrapped around you, holding you in place for Cassian to devour and Azriel to tease with his mouth and hands. Cassian slurped, sucked, licked and played with every part of you as you sat above him, fucking his face.

“I’m close,” you warned the males. Whether it was minutes or hours after your first orgasm, you couldn’t tell, all you knew was that you had been filled with pleasure for longer than you could contain. “Cas!” You cried. “I’m-close! I, I…” you broke off in a moan as you came over your mates face.

Behind you, Azriel fisted Cassian to completion, working him through his own climax with his hand.

After a few deep breaths you slid off of Cassian and into the sheets beside him, throwing an arm over his naked torso as Azriel stood and made his way to your bathroom. The Spymaster was gone for less than a minute before he returned with a damp cloth and cleaned the two of you up, ridding of it somewhere else in your room before sliding into bed with the two of you.

—-

It was later in the night, or perhaps early morning, that you broke the silence between yourself and your mates. “Tell Rhys you can’t go on any missions for a while.” You said to the males that laid on either side of you.

“Why?” Azriel asked.

“Because,” you admitted, “in the morning I plan on making the two of you breakfast.”

[gladiatorcunt]

Literally begging you to please write more Patrick Zweig x Reader fics 🥵🥵

cw: 18+ MDNI, afab reader, hints of patrick x art / patrick x reader x art, consensual and accidental somno, gross patrick, hint of breeding kink, college era ish, mention of ass play, unedited

Tired Loser Bf!Patrick who hikes one of your thighs over his, pressing up against you and sinking back into your already wet pussy. It’s so early in the morning, but sometimes he gets in a mood where he just needs to go lose himself in your cunt even if you’re not contributing. You hum and snuggle further into the silk pillowcase, relishing in the too tight grip of your plush love handles and the sloppy sounds his balls make against your ass. You hardly spend any time together due to his career rhat’s been on a bit of a decline, so you’re more than happy to be his toy if that’s what makes him feel like he’s worth anything. Like he can only find meaning in the warm walls of your pussy, and ass, on occasion.

It’s either this or quick fucks on the counter or kitchen table, both of you nearly clawing at each other in desperation to all but consume the other. Sometimes it’s softer, slow thrusts angled to perfectly hit the right spot every time as he trails open mouthed kisses along your collarbone. Patrick offers to take a shower after coming home sweaty and disgusting but you always say that you prefer him like that anyway. He whines pathetically for a kiss for you and for him from a best friend you’ve never met into your neck and pounds you harder. Your eyes flutter half open at the impact, the grunts behind you and the thick weight moving in and out of you being the only things you can comprehend.

“Glided right in, didn’t even have to finger you or anything.” He moans too loudly for sleepy sex at 5 in the monring. “Always so ready for me, just how i like you.”

“Uh! Uh huh-“

You sigh and nod into the pillow, lazily throwing your ass back on his cock as he fucks you. His pace is so fast that you’re worried he might throw his back out, it’s so frantic and desperate, like he’s trying to stab your guts and leave a permanent mark on you from the inside. You zone in on his heavy breathing, he grinds his length deeper inside and lifts one of your ass cheeks just to watch it fall and jiggle back into place. It’s almost like he’s on the court, eyes watching the ball like a hawk and giving you the most toe curling punched out sounds when he hits it. His precision and raw enthusiasm has you gasping.

The sun’s not far off from rising, so you give up on getting anymore meaningful rest and drown in the intense smell around you. Sweat, slick, old almost acidic cum from when he bred you in his sleep, take out containers from last night that haven’t been thrown away, sharp and piercing autumn air, Patrick’s horrific axe body spray, your much more pleasant cherry blossom body wash. His thrusts send you rocking up the bed, tits swaying back and forth in the mess of tangled thin sheets. Your still half concious but he fucks you like he’s been awake for hours, eyes wide and crazed and brow furrowed like he needs so much more of you than he thought. He moans two names after quick sucks to both of your nipples, one for each. Yours and that same best friend’s.

The red cap Patrick has stashed away in the nighstand collects dust like a skeleton in a closet. There are sessions where he won’t, or maybe can’t, cum unless you cry and whine for that best friend too. You don’t even know who you’re begging for another cock to steal your voice and ravage your throat, but you do it and take note of the euphoric shout that rattles all the way out of Patrick’s chest, the all too pleased sigh into the valley of your breasts. You don’t ask in the shower or in bed, the buried sadness he carries like a chain gives the impression that the abscence is not his choice. Might be a nice birthday present, a reunion.

You wake up more as he goes insane with his fucking, his arm restrains your thigh and pulls it up so high you can feel the muscle stretching. He doesn’t communicate beyond feral grunts and something primal between a growl and a whimper, making sure you can really feel his thick cock bullying your poor pussy beyond repair. You never mind, in fact some days it’s you who wakes Patrick up by bouncing on him like a cock starved slut. You like when you can’t forget what he’s done to you, when you can raise your head to admire the new necklace of bruises. It’s not like he’s never gentle with you, but you don’t feel ashamed for loving him how he is. The jagged edges and aching need to belong somewhere, to someone.

Sometimes all a relationship needs to work is for the people involved to be the same, deep down or surface level. You take whiffs of his pubes that are too deep to be normal apprection for your partner’s body and he eats his own tangy cum out of your puffy pussy like it’s God’s gift to humanity, spitting the left over jizz and additional saliva into your ass hole and slurping that up too. But in the here and now, he’s fucking you without a goal or an end in sight, heavy balls wetly kissing your lower body with no assurance of being emptied. It could be hours before Patrick lets either of you cum, like it’s one of his games that more closely resembles a heated battle to something that looks and acts like death. Evenly matched, no one being stronger than the other.

So you give him the point and drift off, messily tongue kissing him back and lulling yourself to the chaotic rhythm of his thrusts. Outside, it starts to softly rain, the ambience of the moment softening both of your hearts. You put effort in a real kiss, only for a second, whisper an ‘I love you’ and wait for a resounding ‘I love you too’ before shutting off your brain for the time being.

[howisjoostfanfictionforfree]

Twice as Many Shadows

Joost Klein x Vampire!reader

Real person fiction!

CW: 18+, MDNI, RPF, getting roofied, attempted sexual assault, body horror, reference to violence against animals, cannibalism, no smut yet sorry (that’s in part 3 heehee), obligatory club scenes, countless other cliches, please let me know if I’ve forgotten anything

Reader: vampire!reader, female!reader, not descriptive with reader’s appearance but I did give them a bit of personality and a backstory that I hope does not detract from the ability to self insert,,,, yeah I may have gone too hard on backstory

Other notes: Story takes place Fall of 2022,,,,Also big thanks to my irl bestie for his help identifying stray plot bunnies and big thanks to @joosthead for always encouraging me and giving me so much advice over time when it comes to writing! You’re amazing!!!

Word count: ~5,900

Real person fiction! Beware! 👻

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been so many places over the past few years but Amsterdam is a first.

The Netherlands club scene tickles you and Amsterdam is the center of it all. Bouncing from city to city and country to country has kept you sane but this place has you pausing for the first time in what feels like forever.

The energy of summer saturated the nightlife when you arrived and parties raged until the dawn. Festival season was loud and unignorable but even the mainstay clubs and bars were full to bursting for months on end. Anywhere a body could fit there was a party to accommodate.

Even now as long warm nights turn crisper and darker as summer turns to autumn, the Dutch party on and you find yourself carried away by the momentum they never seem to lose.

It’s easy to stay. Maybe it's just been long enough since you started all this that you feel like you can breathe normally. Maybe you're just far enough away.

Maybe it really is just something about Amsterdam.

You’re growing attached to this place. You dread the day you will have to leave.

He catches your eye at the club. You notice him first, of course. Can hear him from clear across the room despite the bone-rattling music and a hundred other people.

It’s a Friday night and you itch to be among the crowd. Close enough to feel like one of them and share in their moment. You wish it were yours. You will make it yours too, just like always. 

Something about the exact way he looks and the exact way he speaks to his group of friends is so striking you couldn't ignore him if you tried. He jokes with an open affection that just shouldn't be possible in words chosen so crass and shouted so loud. Never have you heard ‘cancer dick’ sound like an endearment. 

He is so yellow and pink and blue. Your three new favorite colors. Golden hair almost luminescent under the black lights. Cheeks as pink as his flashy jacket. Eyes bluer than the toxic looking drink in his hand.

You couldn't say whether or not he is conventionally handsome. The sight of him immediately fills a space in your brain you didn't know existed like a lock and key and bowls over your pre-existing notions of the word.

Every part of his face fits in perfect proportion to the rest in a way you have never seen and it has you floored.

There's nothing unusual about it, nothing you can put your finger on, just something absolutely entrancing. 

He isn't just beautiful either. That perfect face is radiating an attitude like no one else in the room. No one else looks as happy, as carefree, as genuinely joyous. You can hear it in his words, see it in how he dances like he doesn't care who is watching. You can tell he doesn't. 

How long has it been since you felt such strong attraction? It makes you stupidly nostalgic for how simple things like this might have been when you were human.

You could have flirted with him, danced with him, maybe even taken him home, gotten his number in the morning.

Now, he is everything you want, everything you want to be, and most definitely everything you can't have. 

Not like that at least. He wouldn't have you. 

He catches your gaze from across the floor. Yeah, you probably are staring aren’t you. But you don’t look away. One perk of your creature status is a much increased ability to not give a fuck. Even when you really really should. His eyes rove over you and his face breaks into what you would call a smirk. 

You want to see it fall as you bite a chunk out of him. 

Okay, time to leave. Better get out of here before you do something weird. Turning away, you weave through the crowd. You feel his eyes on you the whole way out.

Literally. Vampires can do that. 

The itch of his gaze evaporates as you step out the door and reach for a cigarette. Disgusting but necessary. Perfect for blotting out all the people-smells that you’re suddenly having a harder time than usual ignoring.

The first drag is fucking toxic but it’s immediately easier not to focus on the cocktail of male sex hormones the club atmosphere provided. You wonder which are his of the dozens dancing on your tongue. 

The overlap between sexual attraction and the urge to hold someone between your jaws still surprises you sometimes. Of course it isn’t always about sex. You could want to eat someone you hated just as bad. Most often it’s a complete stranger.

It’s like squares and rectangles. You might not think about fucking someone every time you need blood, but every time you do want to fuck, you also want to sink your teeth in. 

If you’re being honest though, this observation is based on fairly brief encounters with fairly drunk men. In reality, you haven’t gotten any in a while. Years in fact. Literal monster behavior seems to be a bit of a turn off for most men and sexy encounters always end the moment you get a good few gulps in and their struggling makes you start to feel guilty. 

You sigh. This is far from the first time you’ve wondered at this particular predicament. Why can’t a girl get some?

You flick the butt to the ground and grind it out with your heel. It’s about time to head home. You came out to have fun and you don’t actually need to feed right now. Even if you did, it would probably go poorly given the mood you’re in. 

You don’t have the archetypical problem of killing people when you feed, not that you’ve never killed anyone, but the trauma level for whichever poor person you choose on a given night can vary greatly depending on your state of mind and right now you’re feeling a little worked up. It might be more bloody than usual. 

Ideally, it’s always drunk people you feed on, as fucked up as that sounds, in the end they usually remember less. That or sleeping people.

God. So much noncon. 

But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Blood banks actually ask a lot of questions and you’ve never felt like trying to intimidate a doctor into faking a condition for you, too afraid of catching their interest and becoming a science experiment.

There aren’t any vampires you've met yet that could point you in a helpful direction either. You never even got to know the vampire that turned you. 

The exact circumstances of your metamorphosis were actually a bit of a mystery. You had no memory of being bitten.

One night you came-to in the middle of the street, blocks away from where you should have been, shoulder bloody, and within the hour you were crawling out of your skin as you transformed. 

Outwardly, you looked no different, but that night your senses shifted and heightened and your bones and muscle tore apart and regrew stronger in far too short a time. 

It was a good thing you had been alone. You had been with your friends before. It was a girls night out catching the newest Spiderman in theaters.

Sitting there on the pavement, blood seeping into your shirt, you knew there was something off and you stumbled home without finding them. 

When you arrived you realized you were more than just in shock. It hurt. Everything hurt. You should have gone to the hospital. But how could you have known?

It came on fast.

By the time you knew there was something really wrong, you were too weak to make it anywhere in your agony. Too weak to even make it to your phone in your coat pocket hanging on the door. 

In the end, you are glad no one got to witness what happened. What you are sure would have been beyond explanation. The sight of your own flesh writhing under your skin is unforgettable. The tiles of the kitchen floor where you collapsed took days to clean. 

The only thing that kept you from totally freaking out in the moments afterward was the insane thought that maybe you had become Spiderman. As stupid as that sounds.

Not that you were a hero or anything.

That much was clear from the beginning when you stumbled outside to rip into the dog in the yard across the street after realizing you could hear your neighbors through the wall and it was making your mouth water. 

Dogs are disgusting. At least it didn’t die. 

You still watch Spiderman now and then on the days you're feeling a tad existential. Honestly, you wish you could be Spiderman. You don’t really know what you are.

Your heart still beats and you definitely don't sparkle, but your canines are extendable and people really do look delicious sometimes. You feel the need to feed on people but no one you've ever fed on has turned. You checked.

It would be nice if whoever bit you had stuck around to talk it out. In the end, vampire just seemed like the best word for it. 

Never mind the flesh eating part. 

What were you saying? Oh yeah, if you try and find someone drunk enough to not notice a little bite right now, you might accidentally decapitate them. A slight exaggeration, but still. 

The worn cobblestones glitter under the amber lamplights as you make your way down the street towards the tram stop, still thinking about that perfect face.

The breeze carries a real hint of chill now, letting go of the last traces of your favorite summer since you started all this.

The shadows on the water are deeper than you remember ever seeing them. They creep up over the edges of the canals to fill the street and swallow the alley you turn down. 

You make it only a few feet before a group of guys round the opposite corner and take up the entire width of the passage.

Even with the knowledge that they would ultimately move to the side, you don’t want to deal with the urges they might inspire in such a tight space. Not right now.

Somehow you’re only feeling more and more keyed up.

Making a quick decision, you turn around to head back the way you came. The thumping of the bass becomes detectable as you near the club again, rattling you physically to match your internal agitation. 

You round the corner to try going up the other street this time and collide harshly with the exact person you had been looking to get away from. 

What was even the point of being a vampire if you couldn’t avoid clumsy moments like these?

 You take a step back as you raise your hands up slightly in a placating gesture. 

“Het spijt me,” you say trying to dodge around him quickly as his scent absolutely floods your senses. 

Fuck, he smells good. 

The general mixed smells of horny male in the club had been enough when looking at him before, but here and now, you realize you are in real trouble. The way he smells itches something deep in you. You want to fuck him. You also want to bite him. Hard.

Go now. Leave.

He spins as if to follow you as you skirt around him. 

“No problem! Hey I saw you earlier, are you leaving already?” He says in perfect English. He must think you’re a tourist. Technically, you kind of are. 

“Is my accent that bad?” you say, pausing in step to look at him. 

What the fuck are you thinking. You need to go right now. 

He grins. ”Haha, yes a little.” 

You can’t help yourself. You can tell he’s teasing. He was charming before from all the way across the room and he’s just as charming right now. All blond fluff and cheekbones and effortless charisma. You turn to face him fully.

“Well, yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” you say carefully. 

He leans in a little, opens his mouth to say something else, but stops dead when he sees what must be your eyes turning pitch black. 

You feel the subtle tug as it happens. The proximity to something so fucking potent as he leans forward pushes you over an edge you didnt even know was there. You’re literally engaging night vision like you’re going to hunt him or something. Ridiculous. You haven't had this problem in years. 

“Fuck!” he stumbles back. “Your eyes! A-Are you…….What!?” 

You’re still just standing there and you can tell he doesn’t know what to say. For as much as pop culture loves the supernatural, no one is ever actually prepared to encounter it.

You can tell he isn’t drunk enough to forget what he’s seeing right now but once again you don’t care like you probably should.

You allow your gaze to flit from his shocked stare down to his lips and then, after a moment, to his throat. When you look up again, it’s obvious he’s blushing. His eyes have become so dark they could rival your own if it weren't for the sclera.

Less than a second later, the smell of his arousal hits you.

What the fuck?

It stirs you more intensely than you thought possible and you know it's now or never. Leave or absolutely traumatize this beautiful stranger. 

You summon all your willpower and turn tail and run.

You don’t even try to conceal your speed. It's dark enough and the risk has to be taken if you stand any chance of getting far enough away to save the situation by the time that willpower runs out. 

Besides, he’s already seen you. 

By the time you reach your street you’re panting. God, that was like four kilometers. Whatever fresh Twilight bullshit that says vampires never run out of stamina is just wrong. You may have done it in a nice neat ten minutes but still, that was rough.

The burning in your chest has you feeling decidedly less sexy and you walk the rest of the way home. 

Home was a small apartment you had found on the edge of the city where you could afford to not have a roommate and the landlady let you pay month by month instead of signing on for a whole year. It was always hard finding places like that.

In the few months you had been there not one of your neighbors was especially loud or smelly or nosey and you counted it a lucky find. It was a perfect spot really, and you were glad it was within your budget.

You had been working remote for the duration of your worldly travels. Even if things got tight sometimes, it was a good enough paying job and you wouldn't trade it for anything since it allowed you to move around when you wanted.

After your great murderous fuck-up, you had found it was very soothing to be out of country, even if you were sure no one was onto you. 

It would be pretty hard to pin anything on you with no body.

As far as you know, the poor guy is still considered missing. Well, you say ‘poor guy,’ but the guy was kind of an asshole. You had never been drugged before, but you could tell for him it was a practiced routine.

The horror of the night started at the bar at the local theater. Not a place you had thought to be on your guard. You were there with a few friends in full costume to catch this month's performance of Rocky Horror.

It was intermission and you were all milling about refilling drinks and stretching your legs and fighting to fit as many people at once into the lone photo booth in the corner. The bar was small and you did not expect to stop there for longer than it took to get a new beer. 

He came up next to you, too close from the get-go considering there was no one else standing there, and made conversation while he had you captive waiting for your drink.

He wasn’t from around there, was visiting he said, and wanted to know what people do for fun. You could tell he really meant he wanted to know what fun he could have with you.

As forward as he was, it wasn't unusually pushy and you were ultimately unbothered when you broke away to find your friends. You never even saw how he managed to dose you. 

You never found your friends.

You don’t even remember how you made it to his car. 

One minute you were walking back to your seat and the next, you were outside. It was cold. Someone was carrying you bridal style.

You were pretty out of it for a good minute. Not sure how long exactly, but long enough that when you started processing things again, you were pulling up by the side of the road near a cow pasture.

He clearly thought you were still out of it because he removed his hand from your thigh, cut the engine, and got out to go around to open your door without a word. 

God knows what he had in mind for you that night, but you never found out because as it happens, he was right, you were still kind of out of it. Not like he had intended, your metabolism already working through a dose surely meant to incapacitate, but you were still loopy enough that logic was miles away and a cold and creeping dread began to fill you as you realized your situation.

The inability to think clearly, though it was getting better with each second, was only more agitating. 

It didn't even occur to you at the time that he stood no chance, that this was all ridiculous. You had been different for too short a time back then.

He was a threat, and one way or another you were about to respond. 

He opened your door. 

You had never felt the kind of fear-panic-rage before that you did in that moment. 

You were up in a flash as soon as he opened it wide enough and dragged him with you into the field.

Your strength was unexpected and his last words were no more than a surprised shout before you ripped his throat out and drank.

Each time he thrashed, the panic fought to overwhelm you and you drank faster to quiet him. He couldn't hurt you if you made him stop moving. 

When he ran dry, the panic-rage still burned and it seemed only natural to take a bite. A real bite. You had to make sure he stopped. 

So you did. 

And then another bite. 

And another and another and before you knew it, he had no head. 

Then, he had no arm and then soon, he only had a leg. 

The only thing you didn’t eat was his clothes. 

When light started to creep over the horizon, you finally came out of your state. You felt both calm and horrified. The threat was gone, but you also didn’t know you could do that. Where did it all go? Forget the size of your stomach, your entire body couldn’t have fit his inside of it. 

It was a little startling at the time. 

You burned his clothes and drove his car to the bottom of a lake. It might have been enough, probably was, but after that you didn’t stick around long to find out.

All this was to say that you enjoyed where you were now. It had been a good couple of years and you were now only vaguely disturbed about your latent abilities. You had even gotten back to the point where you were going back to bars and clubs again!

There was a time when you stayed away after that. You had been slow to return to enjoying nightlife, but Berlin had done wonders in that department and Amsterdam only solidified it. There was something about the Dutch brand of party that made you feel alive.

Tonight put a slight damper on that feeling of progress though. You’re not sure what you would have done to that guy if you hadn't left that very second.

Even if the situation was entirely different, it was the first time since that disastrous night that you have felt so out of control.

You can’t say you felt particularly murderous but you did want to hurt him in ways that make you blush a little now as you trudge up the steps to your door and wrestle with your keys. 

Ugh. You can never repeat that night. 

You will have self control. 

You do have self control. 

Mostly. 

You should just calm down already. As you bolt the door and slip off your shoes, you resolve to make tea and forget about it. Besides, you didn’t really do anything and no one will ever believe him. 

The next day finds you completely normal and you spend your time working. You had a good night's sleep all things considered.

It’s such a good thing that vampires can sleep. Sure, maybe you would get more done if you didn’t, but honestly you think you would go crazy. You love your comfy little nest and you love turning your brain off. It needed to be turned off after that encounter. 

By next week, the entire thing is forgotten (filthy lie) and you feel like it is high time for another visit to the club. Boredom is killer and you can't resist anyways. Last time was surely a one-off.

You do yourself up and make your way downtown. 

The street lamps reflect off the water and the countless neon signs of bars and restaurants give the streets an ethereal glow despite the shadows, deep as ever.

They scatter in in every direction, multiplying in protest of the city lights and gathering themselves to obscure every corner.

The pounding bass spills out the door of every club you pass and the carefree Friday night energy of every person wandering the streets is tangible. 

Amsterdam is so awesome. 

You purposefully choose a new spot you found on Instagram, hoping to avoid running into him again.

You’ve never been big on social media, but ever since your life took you on the road it became critical to your navigation of the world. It took some getting used to, especially with no one in your life to ask more than superficial questions, but you figured it out. 

It still startles you occasionally just how non tech-savvy you can be. It’s not usually an issue but when you forget how to convert file types or struggle to navigate online forums you can't deny you’re a little behind the curve. Honestly, you might as well be a vampire from the 17th century not the 21st. One hidden away in a decaying manor far from modern technology. 

An exaggeration, but it really feels that way sometimes. 

You often pat yourself on the back for learning how to use the software necessary to do your job. Your career hadn’t required it of you before and it was only due to the fuckass pandemic that it had become an option. Now that you had the tech down it was very convenient to be able to do your job virtually.

That had been one of your biggest concerns in the beginning. How were you gonna fund your life on the run if you had to constantly search for new employment? 

When you get to the club it is delightfully similar to the photos and you spend your evening rotating between dancing your ass off and people-watching from the side when the smells and jostling get a little too exciting.

Yes, the club is exciting. The right amount this time around. You feel like a real young adult. You give yourself another pat on the back for your foray into normalcy.

It’s a smaller club on Lange Leidsedwarsstraat. By no means tucked away, but far enough from Leidseplein main square that there are far fewer tourists.

The ice is starting to melt in your drink. You can’t be bothered with it when there is so much to look at.

There can't be more than fifty people crammed in this tiny renovated warehouse but they manage to sport a variety of fashion and dance styles. Inevitably, you spot hakken amongst them. The tangle of decks and mixers on the small raised stage is huge and the lone DJ operating it all glows in alternating colors as lights strobe from behind to scatter over the crowd.

You work your way out of the corner and back onto the dance floor again. The upbeat song playing now hits just the right vibe for how you’re feeling. 

Doe de Fryslân bop

Wist je niet dat ik van Fryslân kom?

Dude, doe de Fryslân bop

Blaas het op als een fietsbandpomp

You bop along for a minute as the song demands and notice a group of several people shouting along much louder than everyone else. They seem to know every word.

One of them facing away from you turns in place as he dances and suddenly you’re locking eyes with the exact same guy. 

Jesus Christ, what are the odds. 

Well, maybe not terrible odds if you consider he’s probably a local. 

But still. Goddammit. 

His face instantly lights up and it would be kind of cute if you weren’t panicking. Those baby blues pack a punch. What happened to not giving a fuck?

Before you can move a single muscle to make your retreat, he is surging towards you through the crowd and  o h   s h i t   you did not expect that.

You thought he’d be running too. Even if he had been surprisingly horny in the face of inhuman eyes, you figured the freakish speed there at the end would have been enough to spook him.

Shocked, you fail to stop him from grabbing your wrist like he can tell you’re gonna make a break for it again. Vampire reflexes who? You open your mouth to protest but before you can say anything he leans in and bites your shoulder.  

What.

WHAT?

You realize you’re shouting it as he pulls away laughing. 

“Fancy seeing you here!” He is way too happy.

“You bit me!”

“Are you gonna bite me back?” 

“What!?”

“C’mon, I know you want to.” The way he waggles his eyebrows should not be attractive. It is.

“Excuse me?!”

“I’ve watched enough tv to know a bloodsucker when I see one.” He looks stupidly smug.

“Yeah, tv. You should probably stop watching so much.”

“Your eyes were beautiful y’know.” You feel your own heart stutter.

“I think you had too much to drink.”

“Please, that was not drunk at all, you should have seen how we ended the night!”

“Yeah, you definitely were. But you’re joking, right? You should know most girls aren’t into roleplay right off the bat.” Maybe you can embarrass him into leaving you be. 

He scoffs and brings his other hand to the back of your head so he can pull you in as he leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“Why did you run?”

You can tell he’s deliberately holding your face close to his throat and god damn him, you know what he is trying to achieve and it works. This close to the source, the other smells of the club can’t run interference.

His presence is just as overwhelming as the first time and the smell of his skin and the thump of his heart is so close now you can’t help your reaction once again.

You feel the familiar tug behind your eyes and the shadows of the room start to melt away. The little silver chain sitting against his clavicles snaps into perfect definition.

He pulls away to gauge your reaction, the sly motherfucker, but his grin melts into stupefied wonder when he sees exactly what he had hoped for. 

“There it is.” He whispers. His heart is beating harder than ever and his scent rushes forward to envelop you even though you are no longer pressed to his neck. He smells like adrenaline. He smells like arousal.

You pout as he drinks you in. He pulled a fast one on you. 

Realizing he’s still holding your wrist, you flex in warning. He grips tighter like he’s afraid to let you go.

“C’mon, I’m not gonna go around gathering a mob with torches and pitchforks, what’s the big deal?”

You hold his gaze. You remember very well what the big deal is. What you are capable of when emotions are this high. He has you feeling something, alright.

But, you have to admit, even though everything about his presence is sending you into the stratosphere, it is nothing like that night. This feeling, albeit intense, is a good one. 

When was the last time someone talked to you like this? After seeing what you were? Never. Maybe you overreacted before. Maybe you can control yourself. As much as you want to rip into his shoulder you're not doing it. You‘re enjoying looking at him too much.

He really is beautiful.

Right now it doesn't feel like you're in danger of a big deal 2.0. Just maybe something equally stupid.

“You know I’ll have to kill you if you out me right?” You look over at the rest of his group where they are still dancing. 

His eyes widen at your indirect confirmation- you are a vampire. His grip becomes stiff and you finally get a whiff of fear. Good. Even if you’re lying, he should know who he’s dealing with. 

He stutters a bit, “I-I told some of my friends I saw something crazy, but they don’t believe me I swear! They just think I was drunk! Like you said!” 

God, he’s outing himself already. He’s so lucky you’re not actually evil. You just laugh and begin swaying to the beat again. You break his hold on your wrist effortlessly now, just a hint of real strength, so you can grab his hand instead. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just teasing. Dance with me?”

Even in the low lighting of the club, you can tell with your shifted vision how hard he’s blushing. In spite of his fear, he smells like he’s ready to fuck you pregnant. 

God, he’s a freak. 

You love it.

He acquiesces after a stunned moment and begins to bounce along with you. After a minute, you see him start mouthing the lyrics and it strikes you again how well he seems to know them. 

“A favorite of yours?” you say. 

”I wrote it!” he exclaims, leaning in. “You like?” 

“Did you really?” You are genuinely skeptical.

He scoffs. “I did! I am huge Netherlands artiest, don’t you know Joost Klein? Also, I know the DJ so he plays my stuff.” You hear humor in his voice but you don’t know what part is a joke.

Joost Klein. Huh. You have never heard that name in your life.

“Wow, I feel so lucky to meet a celebrity.” You bat your eyes at him.

He clocks your bullshit immediately.

“Really! I can show you my stuff! Come to my studio and I’ll show you what I’m working on!” 

You smirk. You are really dancing quite closely now. 

“Wow I dunno, I never usually let boys show me their stuff on the first date.”

He chokes out a laugh “So this is a date huh?” his hands are on your waist now.

“I don’t know yet” You say. “Dance with me some more.” 

Because you are insane, you turn around and lean up against him. The music is a little slower and heavier now than the alt-pop rap playing before. Joost gets the message immediately and soon you’re grinding to the beat. Already, you can feel his bulge against your ass.

You let yourself get lost in the rhythm of the music and the feeling of him against you. It's easy to lose time when his scent and his touch surround you like this. You could almost forget the itch in your canines. 

His head bows and his lips skim your shoulder where he bit you. What a strange sensation. A role reversal. You still can't believe he did that. For a minute, you feel strikingly human.

You arch up into him and let your head fall back against his chest. His lips move up to your ear and he asks, “Can I have your number?” You twist yourself back around to face him. 

It’s getting harder not to just kiss him. 

You maintain eye contact for a minute, his gaze searching yours.

Without breaking the stare-down, you reach into his pocket oh-so-slowly and pull out his phone, offering it to him.

He is starting to look a little crazed but he breaks the eye contact to look down and open it for you. You punch in your number when he turns it to you and slide it back into his pocket, just as slowly. 

Hooking a finger into his belt loop, you look up at him under your lashes. Joost looks like he doesn’t know whether to fuck you now or fuck you later. If he can wait to get you home.

You don’t let him deliberate. 

Leaning up, you ghost your lips over his. “See you soon.” 

And with all the stupid supernatural guile you can muster, you sink backwards into the crowd and disappear. The last glimpse you catch of his face is one of outrage. 

You laugh all the way down the street. 

A side street without lamps lends the shadows you need for cover as you give it just a bit of a speed boost in case he gets the idea to go looking for you again. Lord knows you’ve bumped into him enough times now that he might think to try it. 

You aren’t even to the end of the street before you get a text.

        +31 06 5337496:  y r u so mean to me ( ｰ̀εｰ́ )

          +31 06 5337496:  when will you come to my studio?

          +31 06 5337496: ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

You're still not sure what he really means by studio. Maybe it was a joke for his apartment. A studio apartment? Or maybe he really does make music. That would be fun. Not that you know much about Dutch music. Or Dutch. You sigh. It’s a process. 

Saving his number you write back.

        cap

          I am not mean

          had to get out of there before you turned full blood-                 

          sucker on me biting my shoulder like that

          Tuesday? 

The dot-dot-dot pops up and goes away no less than seven times before he finally replies.

          Joost:  (/>w<)/ yayyyy can’t wait!!

           Joost:  meet me at 16 Schimmelstraat at 14:00 :333

You can't help but snort at the way he texts. Definitely a funny guy. You have such good taste. 

It took him quite a while to respond compared to the speed at which he first texted you. You might be technologically illiterate, but even you know that means Joost had to think about something a little harder.

He does seem to get flustered by everything vampiric. Oh this was going to be so much fun.

On the other hand, Joost might just be a slow texter. 

You know where you would place your bet. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading!! Sorry for the atrocious amount of backstory. I didn't realize what I’d done until it was too late (and I didn’t want to rewrite). I promise the next one will be more Joost-centric interaction and less boring exposition. Btw this series will include smut! Yay!!

[vividxpages]

Hi, could you possibly do either 12 or 29 with smut ? 💙 pls.

a/n: I kind of combined these two, I hope you'll like them! <3

vivid's little autumn writing: If you want, you can now send me a number (or two combined!) from this list of visual prompts and I'll write a little drabble (fluffy and/or smutty, you decide) for it.🧸

🍂

Jace stepped into the apartment with an exhausted sigh on his lips.

Today had not been easy, but so was no day when his mother’s side of the family spent time with his grandfather’s second wife’s side. Jace despised those tense dinners, so unlike the ones he shared with you and his family, and by the end of it, he always felt ready to push one of his asshole uncles in front of a cars outside the restaurant.

All these awkward and double-sided conversations were reason enough for him to spare you and although you didn’t like to leave him alone in such bad company, you had let him go alone tonight. Jace pulled off his shoes eagerly before taking a quick look in the mirror. Now, this long-awaited evening with you began and he could shake it all off, your company enough to soothe the dark clouds away.

He could hear the quiet sound of the record player coming from the living room, your favorite album playing softly on its needle, but he willed himself to step into the bathroom quickly, to wash his hands and splash some water on his face.

He turned the lights on and stopped, looking at the small red heart drawn onto the mirror over the sink. He recognized the shade of your lipstick instantly, the color often adorning his neck if you had your way, and smiled as he washed his hands and looked at it. A warmth filled his chest at your attentiveness, the way you always knew he needed a little cheering-up after a family meeting like tonight.

With his steps already a little lighter, Jace walked down the hallway and melted once again at the sight greeting him. The living room was lit with dozens of candles, their warm light flickering over the walls and painting you in a golden glow.

You had curled up underneath a fluffy blanket on the couch, two half-filled white wine glasses on the table in front of you. At his entrance, you looked up from the book in your lap and beamed, lifting yourself up on your knees as Jace approached you. The blanket pooled down your body, only hidden by one of his sleeping shirts you liked to claim for yourself.

Without a word, Jace cupped the sides of your face and bent down, kissing you hungrily as if you two had not seen each other for days instead of just a few hours. You smiled into the kiss, happy to be reunited with him as one of his hands slid down your spine and pressed you closer against his chest.

“How was your evening?” You asked a little out of breath when you eventually separated, playing with his big hand in yours as he still towered over you.

Jace sighed, giving you a smile back. “Better now that I’m with you. I’ve seen your little message on the mirror.”

You chuckled as he sank down on the couch beside you, pulling your legs to rest in his lap as you handed him a glass. “If you can even call that a message.”

“Nonetheless, it made me happy.” Jace pointed out, his free hand drifting over your calf as he clinked glasses with you and took a sip. “Everything you do makes me happy.”

You watched him softly, your lips still tingling from his passionate kiss. “I can always see your exhaustion when you crossed ways with your uncles. Is there something else I can do? There’s still some dinner on the stove, if you want.”

Jace couldn’t believe he really had to ditch your homemade dinner for unpleasant company and bad jokes from his drunk uncle for a moment, his heart belonging to you aching to make it up to you, although he knew you’d never fault him for it.

He put down his wine glass and lovingly squeezed your knee. “Right now, I only need you, my love.”

You sighed happily as he leaned over to you and kissed you again, your back arching to meet his searching hands on you as they drifted over your back and down the sides of your waist. Shivers followed where he went and soon, you moaned quietly as his lips began to travel down your neck, suckling gently on the spots he knew were sensitive. The smell of your sweet shampoo and perfume made Jace all dizzy as he sunk down between your spread legs, the fluffy blankets having carelessly landed on the carpet in the process.

He felt the little shudders going through you when his hand snuck underneath your (his) shirt, ghosting over your warm belly until he could tease the band of your panties.

“Do you want to…” He whispered against your lips and you nodded eagerly, your foreheads pressing together and hot breath mingling as his hand disappeared inside of your underwear, a broken gasp leaving your kiss-bruised lips at the brush of his fingertip against your sensitive core.

“Jace…please…” You held on to his curls as he covered your body with his own, wanting nothing more to keep you underneath him all night and make love in the glow of the candlelight.

“You don’t have to beg for me, my love.” He mumbled, his hot gaze never leaving yours as he drew slow and tantalizing circles around your clit. “I’ve been wanting you all night long…now, let me enjoy you, baby.”

You melted into the pillows behind you, drawing your head back at his skilled hand in your panties, his hand playing with the edge of your shirt and lifting it higher and higher until he could touch your warm boob and groan at the taste of your bud around his lips.

You had been so good for him all night, had given him the warmest welcome he could’ve dreamed of…and now it was time to reward his sweet girl for it…

[weird-is-life]

hi lovely! a p vague request if you’re up for it!! remus x fem!/gn! reader fluff<3 he’s just painfully pining for her, getting a bit jealous when she’s hit on by other guys. they’re hanging out one night and it gets cold, so he gives her his jacket thinking the jacket could not look better on anyone else!

take the fic wherever you want babes! i’m just obsessed w your writing & the idea of lupin pining

Hii lovely, ty you so much for this cute request and I'm so so glad you enjoy my writing🥹🥹🥹. Warnings: fluff, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of pub,(0.8k)

It's Friday night, so of course the pub is stuffed with people. But Remus wasn't expecting, that you'd be getting hit on by so many guys, even if the pub is overcrowded.

He thinks, that if one more guy comes up to you and invites you for a drink, he won't be able to stop himself from beating him up.

To your credit tho, you've sent the guys running to the other side of the pub with your rejections. You are not even slightest bit interested in anybody, other than Remus.

The cheeky smirks, that Sirius and James keep sending his way aren't helping one bit either. They obviously know of Remus's crush on you and they keep pulling his leg about not making a move on you yet.

"You okay?" you nudge him with your elbow. Another thing that isn't helping with his intense feelings for you right now, is that you've been sitting next to him the whole night.

He breaks out of his thoughts and smiles at you, " of course. I'm perfect," he lies, but he can't tell you the truth. He's not ready for a rejection from you, he doesn't think he'll ever be ready for it.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I'm okay, I promise," he's not, but he doesn't tell you that. You seem happy with his answer, because you smile at him sweetly as you always do.

"Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure, before I left," you say as you start to gather your things to leave.

"You're leaving?" Remus asks quickly,  making a poor job of masking his disappointment.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I'd love to stay, but I have to get up early tomorrow," you say very apologetic.

"Don't be," he replies and adds without thinking, " I'll go with you. I'm feeling tired, too."

It's not exactly a lie, he feels a bit tired, but also he wants to spend some more time with you and more importantly, he doesn't want you to go home alone.

"Oh, okay." You don't question it and just nod. You say your goodbyes to everyone and leave. The boys wink teasingly at him to which Remus only rolls his eyes.

You walk side by side outside and Remus is quick to a hail a taxi for you two. In the meantime, you start to get cold. You didnt't realise, when you were dressing up, how much the temperature lowers after it gets dark in the autumn.

Finally, Remus manages to get a taxi and you eagerly get inside of it, thinking the heat is on, but you're wrong. The driver doesn't seem to mind the cold, because inside the taxi, the temperature is the same as outside.

Remus, attentive as always, notices you shivering.

"Here," he shrugs off his jacket and puts in around your shoulders, before you can even protest.

"Rem, thank you, but are you sure, you won't mind? I don't want you to be cold, too," you frown at him worriedly.

"I'm not cold, don't worry, dove. Just keep it," he smiles warmly at you, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. And fuck, the pet name almost makes you pass out.

The sight of you in his jacket is doing no good for Remus either, he feels like he's been hit by a hammer over and over again, making him dizzy.

"Besides, you might as well keep it. It looks like hundred times better on you," he bravely compliments you and your heart almost does a flip from it.

Your cheeks go embarrassingly red and you both stay quiet with little smiles on, until it's your time to get out of the car.

"Goodnight, Remus, thank you for seeing me off," you give him a quick hug and get out.

You are hallway up the stairs to your apartment, when you hear his voice.

"Y/N, please wait," he catches up to you, his hand gently grabs yours.

"What is it-" your questions gets interrupted by his lips on yours. The only thought on your mind is that how soft they feel, but from the surprise of it, you don't kiss him back.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have, I'm sorry-" he worriedly spills out and swiftly turns around to leave. You don't let him, it's your turn to grab his arm and kiss him.

Remus handles the shock of it better than you and kisses you back hard.

When you finally pull away, you are both smiling like some crazy idiots.

"I wanted do this for so long," he confesses, sheepishly. Running his hands through your hair, putting some loose strands away from your pretty face.

"Me, too," you say, " I guess, we are both stupidly oblivious, huh?"

You and Remus laugh," yeah, we are. But not anymore."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. I like you, like a lot, if you haven't realised it by now," Remus whispers as he caresses your cheek softly.

"I like you too," you grin at him, very happy from the not so new information. It feels so good to finally be able to say it to him.

"Good." He says, smiling and leans in to kiss you warmly again.

[inkedroplets]

Leaves

The nights had grown long but Lena hadn't noticed. Her nights were already long. She spent them shuttered away in her office. Working. Immersing herself so deeply that when she finally left the office it felt like coming up for air after a very long time underwater. 

What hadn't escaped her notice was the nip in the air or the crunch of leaves beneath her feet. Autumn cold and autumn sounds that surrounded her as she walked the last few blocks to her penthouse. October had come which meant that she had been back in Metropolis for three months now. 

There had been a peculiar roundness in how her return to Metropolis so neatly mirrored her initial departure from it. How spontaneously the idea had seized her and how quickly she had made up her mind. She woke up with the idea of leaving National City already half-formed in her head and was on a plane that very evening.  She had spent the last two months dealing with the ramifications of once more pulling up stakes and moving L-Corp back to Metropolis. A headache, to be sure, but one she almost welcomed. It had kept her busy when she needed it most. Too occupied to dwell on things she would rather not think about, on people she would rather not think about. 

Each day it got a little easier to do both. And now? Things were better. Lena approached this realization with careful trepidation. As if she expected it to grow teeth or for the universe to enact its will upon her to prove her wrong. But it was true. Things were better. It wasn’t enough to bring a smile to her lips, she was too tired for that, but it was something. Like glimpsing light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel.

A wind gusted past her, sending a shiver through her. She drew her pea coat around her (for all the good that would do). She thrust her hand into her pocket fishing around for keys when she heard the scrape of a footstep behind her. “Luthor.” She bristled as she always did when addressed in such a manner. Hello universe… “Yeah, it’s you,” he spat when she turned around and was able to get a better look at her. “Afraid so,” Lena said drolly. “Can I help you with something?” Or would you just like to call me a bitch and I can be on my way? 

“Yeah, you can get the hell out of Metropolis. You never should have come back. We don't want you here.” He jabbed a finger at her and Lena couldn't help but think of an angry parent sending their child off to timeout. 

“I think there's a petition being passed around to that effect,” Lena said. “I'm certain they'd be happy to add your signature to what I assume is already a very long list.” 

“Yeah, I bet there is,” he sneered. “So why did you come back?” 

“Well, everyone here is so friendly,” Lena said, “how could I stay away?” She spared him a glance before she turned to go, not that she expected him to simply let her walk away. At the very least he would want the last word and she would only need a couple guesses as to what that word would be. 

Words were of little consequence. What did put her on guard was the slim chance he might try and actually hurt her. Her baton (which she sometimes kept stashed in one of her heels) was in her purse. She slipped the same hand she had been rooting around for her keys just moments before into her purse and found what she was looking for at once. 

Small favors, she thought when she realized he had fallen into step behind her. She closed her hand over it, thinking she might be able to catch him on the chin with it if she were quick enough. At the very least even a wild swing would allow her some distance and perhaps make him rethink trying again. 

“Go home. Now.”

Lena turned just in time to see the man step backward so quickly that he nearly fell over, his arms pinwheeling out to keep him upright. His gaze was tipped skyward and he opened his mouth to offer what Lena had to assume was either an apology or an explanation. 

She's a Luthor, she thought, feeling that would be reason enough for some people. 

But the only thing that came spilling out of his mouth was a mess of unintelligible sounds before he did an about face and began to retreat at a brisk jog, turning back occasionally. Lena watched him go, resisting the urge to raise her middle finger as he did. “You probably saved him a hospital trip.” “I might have saved you one…” “I liked my chances.” Lena slipped her baton from her purse and tapped it against the cement. “You’re a long way from National City.” “So are you, Lena.” “I moved,” Lena said, as if this was something that she had already forgot to mention. “Surely the DEO took notice.” “I noticed,” Kara said grimly. She landed on the sidewalk behind her, cape fluttering weakly as another bitterly cold wind passed over them. “Are you keeping tabs on me?” Lena asked. “There has to be better things Supergirl can be doing on a Friday night.” “Not keeping tabs,” Kara said evasively. “I just happened to be—” “In the neighborhood?” She shrugged before Kara had a chance to answer, not much caring to what the truth might be. The silence that followed went on so long that Lena almost convinced herself that Kara had flown off, only to be proven wrong when she heard the heavy flutter of her cape sounding almost ominous in the semi-darkness.

“You just left,” Kara said, sounding as if each word was one she weighed heavily before speaking. “I did,” Lena said and before Kara could fumble her way to her next point, Lena continued. “Was I supposed to tell you?" she asked, genuinely curious. "No," Kara said, clearly stung. "We're not friends anymore, Kara," Lena said, speaking slowly. She wasn't eager to open up old wounds, especially ones just so freshly healed but felt it needed to be said. It needed to end. "I don't think we ever were." She let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding in. "What else is there for either of us to say?" Lena stood there a while longer, shivering in the dark before she began to walk again, once more digging in her pocket for her keys, eager to get home. Another wind gusted over her, this one warmer, the force of Kara's takeoff sending red and orange leaves swirling into the air.

[cambion-companion]

BG3 Companions on a Halloween Date

YES I was itching to do something for the BG3 gang for the season. You could say it's been bugging me. Hah. Ok sorry it's the influence of my pfp.

Let's start with

You want a cozy night in under the covers, watching scary movies (or puppet shows or whatever the heck is the equivalent in Faerun) but he's not sold on the idea. "I've seen enough horror to last me several lifetimes, darling."

Instead Astarion would take you out in the crisp Autumn air, under the distant sun, for a walk crunching through the dried leaves of brown and red.

He'd want to go to the pumpkin patch to find the perfect gourd for a Jack-o-Lantern.

When the sun set so very early in the afternoon, you'd retire back to your cozy abode and set to carving faces into your pumpkins.

Astarion of course would make short work of his, dexterous as ever with those knives, and he would do his best to shape the face into what he hopes he looks like.

Either that or, depending on where you're at in his character arc, he'd remake Cazador BEFORE gutting it and making a whole show of utterly eviscerating the poor Halloween decoration. "Astarion, this is supposed to be relaxing." "This IS my ideal downtime."

You want someone who will snuggle under the covers and watch Hocus Pocus with you? Wyll is your man. But sorry I'm trying to keep to a less modern AU.

Wyll seems like the kind of guy who would put on some fitting music as you two cooked together, dancing in the kitchen intermittently and almost forgetting to check on the cookies before they burned.

He's such a sweetheart, checking to make sure you're happy with just spending an evening indoors with him. "We can go out on the town if you desire, sweetheart." "No, Wyll, I've told you this is absolutely perfect."

Depending on the choices you've made with him thus far, Mizora might pop in to dip her finger in the batter and bamf out again, giving ya'll a cheeky wink. "Ta ta, love imps. You make me physically ill."

Sigh, you're back for more bones hm?

Alright I'll entertain you.

You ask Withers to dance to Spooky Scary Skeletons. He looks at you, unimpressed. "Get thee hence." "Wilt thou harass someone else?"

Ideally I would propose and she'd say "yes". Oh what? Sorry, I was miles away.

For a Halloween date. Hm. A corn maze. Definitely.

She'd be all about her tutelage under Shar's freaks followers and want to show off her sneaking skills.

It would turn into a game of hide-and-go-seek and then it'd get a little creepy before she'd inevitably pounce on you and you'd end of in a fit of laughter together.

"I wasn't going to hurt you!" "Well, Shaddy, sometimes I wonder." "Good to keep you on your toes, then." "Careful, I saw a pond on the way in."

Then you two would go and get some candied apples and chat about memories and flowers that bloom in the gloaming.

Oh Gale.

He'd love to read to you out of a classic gothic novel (cough cough Dracula cough cough) while you two cozy up under some blankets.

He'd probably get fresh with you and run a hand up your leg or something, OH SORRY this is post the patch that fixed that? OK. He'd wait an extra hour.

Tara would curl up next to you and listen as he read from the book, the firelight crackling and warming your bodies as the night grows dark outside.

Afterward he would ask if you'd like to be guided into the Astral plane where you can look down on the All Hallow's Eve festivities below.

yeah, gotta give Tiefling daddy some love. Especially since I still feel bad for massacring them all my last playthru.

Zevlor is another who has seen his fair share of horror, and he would opt to do something more lighthearted with you for a Halloween date.

He seems like a family kind of man, so I expect he would invite the whole gang over for a delicious dinner. Mol and her friends, Arabella and her parents. Rolan and Zorru and maybe even Auntie Ethel will sneak in there. Then it really WOULD be a Halloween experience.

After the dinner and the guests are snoozing or already left he'd wrap an arm around you and pull you close. "Would you accompany me outside? I would like to show you the stars and tell their tales. It's been so long since I've gotten to properly admire them. Or you."

Of course I have to include the daddy devil, who do you think I am?

Raphael would take you to a haunted house, of course. OF COURSE.

Hell, what better house that is haunted than the House of Hope?

It would be horrifying for you, since the no touching rules don't apply there, and most amusing for him.

You'd practically climb the cambion in your efforts to avoid the ghosties, especially that one who constantly says "huuuurt meeee, pleeeaaase."

Raphael would enjoy watching you squirm, and remind you such a fate would not be yours only IF you followed his rules.

Oh yeah, and maybe if you're lucky, or perhaps very unlucky, he'll invite you to his Boudoir.

Oak Father frowns on dissecting pumpkins for the sake of creating superfluous lanterns (or something...I heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend, ok)

Instead, Halsin would druid craft you vines and harvest fruits in whatever shapes, sizes, and colors you desired.

He'd also want to go trick or treating so BADLY. "But Halsin, you're eight feet tall and built like a linebacker. No one is going to mistake you for a kid." Then he'd cast Disguise Self and you'd be forced to take him out on the town in hunt of candy.

Poor guy didn't have much of a childhood and wants to experience the finer things in life. Get those king sized candy bars...just once.

You are a bit huffy, having expected a more...romantic evening than this. But he'll make it up to you later winkwonk , till you can bearly stand it.

Aw

You guys would get all CUTE and gussied up together.

Go out on the town.

Pick the best looking victim to be a sacrifice to Lolth.

Wait...what?

[lesbiankimdahyun]

Karina(g!p) meeting at a Halloween party(she’s dressed as a slutty vampire) and reader is dressed as an angel. They’ve been eyeing each other all night and eventually end up in the bathroom with reader bent over the sink and Karina fucking her from behind

happy halloween, anon!!

Corrupting an angel

2.6k words

CW: g!p, alcohol

[GP!Karina x F!Reader]

You could hear the steady pounding of bass from outside of the large brownstone apartment complex. There was no need to double check to make sure you had the right address— the music and shadows of partygoers in the fourth story windows confirmed you had arrived. 

You hesitated for a moment, but then your roommate Ryujin tugged at your arm and you followed her up to the door. She hit the buzzer so you two could be let in, finally out of the cold, late autumn air. 

As the two of you bounded up the steps, your nerves got the best of you. 

“Ryujin, promise me you won’t abandon me in there?” you asked.

Your short-haired friend laughed. “Of course not,” she said, turning to smile reassuringly at you. “Don’t worry too much, you’ve actually met some of the people here! And I’ll introduce you to anyone you don’t know.”

Ryujin was right— once inside, you realized you did recognize a few faces. Her closest friends Lia, Yeji, Yuna and Chaeryeong were already there. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at Lia’s costume. She was a big, bright red strawberry. She looked absolutely adorable, even when she accidentally bumped into people and walls. The rest were dressed as matching skeletons. 

The two of you made your way over to the group, and before either one of you could ask, Chaeryeong sighed. “We tried to get Lia to go in on the skeleton costumes with us,” she said, “but she insisted on being a goofy, oversized strawberry.” 

Lia rolled her eyes. She tried to cross her arms, but the costume was too bulky and she couldn’t. It only made her look cuter. 

“Hey! I didn’t know the costume was going to be this big! Can we drop it already?”

The rest of the group broke out into conversation, but you couldn’t really focus on it, distracted by the sights of the party. 

You’d forgotten to ask whose apartment this even was, but whoever was renting it, it looked stunning. The large space, complete with crown moulding, rounded arch hallways and exposed brick walls, was perfectly decorated for Halloween. Orange and purple string lights lined the perimeter of the ceiling, fake cobwebs were meticulously placed along the corners of windows, and there were jack-o-lanterns, real ones with tiny candles inside illuminating them, on the living room coffee table along with fake skull caps full of candy. Tall, skinny black candles lined bookshelves, a string of black paper bats shared wall space with fake, bloody claw marks running along them. 

Lia bumped into you suddenly, bringing you back to earth. 

“Sorry!” she said to you and the other girl she’d accidentally collided with. 

You glanced over to see the other girl pat Lia’s costume reassuringly. She was dressed as a vampire. Not the Nosferatu kind, though. You felt a wave of warmth rush over you. She was hot, stupidly hot, as was her costume. 

Your eyes wandered slowly over her deep red sequined corset and its revealingly low sweetheart neckline. A pair of black booty shorts covered hardly anything other than her ass, but the simple black cloak she wore over her corset helped a little. A pair of fishnets and knee high, lace up platform boots completed the look. The ends of her hair were dyed a similar deep red color, and her long acrylics were stunning– black coffin shaped nails for the occasion.

The vampire’s eyes only registered Lia for a fraction of a second. The next moment, they were on you. 

You swallowed hard, quickly looking back up to meet her eye. Her gaze was intense, and so was the brief onceover she gave you before she finally turned around and walked back to her friend group without saying a word. 

By the time you recovered from the vampire, the conversation happening around you had already picked back up. 

“I’ll be right back,” you said to Ryujin, excusing yourself. 

You made your way down the hall into the kitchen. Some of the drink options were Halloween themed, like the cauldrons full of spiked spider cider and dark purple witches brew punch, swirling with edible silver glitter. A few handles of hard liquor and mixers, as well as beer were available, but you weren’t really in the mood to taste your alcohol.

After pouring yourself a cup full of the witches brew punch, you paused for a moment to glance around at the rest of the people at the party. 

The attendees had gone all out in their costumes, too. Ryujin had warned you beforehand that anyone who wasn’t in costume wouldn’t be let in, so as much as you didn’t care for dressing up, you had to admit, the costume rule made for an even better party. You hoped some of the more impressive costumes would distract from your own. You’d felt confident in it before you left, but now felt exposed.

It was Ryujin who suggested you go as an angel when you fretted about finding a costume. “Keep it simple,” she had said. “It’s just one color.” 

“I don’t know,” you had said once you tried on the pieces she’d found for you. “This feels damn near like, genuinely sacrilegious.” 

The halo headband was cute. It was the rest of your costume that definitely wouldn’t be allowed in any real church: white thigh high stockings with chunky white heels, white satin shorts, a matching satin halter top with a white mesh bell sleeve shrug over it, and a small pair of angel wings. Those were white too, of course. 

Later, Ryujin, keeping her word, introduced you to a few of her other friends. All of them were pretty to begin with, but the fact that their costumes were a little tighter against their bodies made you unsure of where to look as you shyly said hi to a Wednesday Addams who went by Winter, a workout Barbie who introduced herself as NingNing, and a Spider-Girl named Giselle. 

You had seen a fourth girl with them earlier, that incredibly hot vampire, actually, but now she was nowhere to be seen. Ugh. You craned your neck to look for her, hoping to be introduced, but you couldn’t find her. 

Just as you and Ryujin had said bye to the other girls and turned around, you spotted her out of the corner of your eye, rejoining her friends. Damn.

You almost asked Ryujin to go back and introduce you. The punch was stronger than you thought it’d be, and you were beyond buzzed now, feeling a little more confident and sociable. You were watching the vampire flip her long, dark hair over one shoulder when Ryujin interrupted you.

“Hey, where did you get that punch?” Ryujin asked, flipping up her pirate’s eye patch for a moment to get a better look at it. “I gotta get rid of this shitty beer.” 

“I can go get you some,” you said. “I need a refill anyway.” 

In the kitchen, your back was turned to the rest of the party while you scooped up ladlefuls of punch for you and Ryujin. Suddenly you heard a voice behind you. 

“How’d an angel like you wind up in such a sinful party?” 

You were about to scoff at whoever had just spoken to you when you paused– it wasn’t a man’s voice. You were used to cocky, suggestive comments from men, but the voice that had just addressed you was feminine.

You turned around to see the girl you’d been glancing at all night long– the hot vampire. 

“Wh-what?” Shit. You forgot to think about what you were going to say before turning around. 

The vampire smirked, merely raising an eyebrow in response to your question. “Do I… know you?” she asked. 

You shook your head. “I’m Ryujin’s roommate. I’m Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you,” the girl replied. “I’m Karina.”

“Karina,” you repeated with a little nod. “Nice to meet you, too. I like your costume,” you said. 

The vampire’s smirk grew bigger. “I know you do,” she said. “Unless that wasn’t you leering at me earlier tonight?” 

You blushed, eyes widening. “Oh, I- I’m sorry–”

Karina moved in, pressing herself against you lightly as she took your drink out of your hand and set it down on the countertop next to Ryujin’s. “It’s okay,” she said, taking your hand. “Can’t seem to keep my eyes off you, either.” 

The next thing you knew, you were being pushed up against the bathroom sink with Karina’s lips kissing a trail down the back of your neck. Ryujin and the rest of the party had completely faded from your brain. You were soaked now, clit throbbing in anticipation. 

The vampire looked up at you for a moment, making eye contact with you in the mirror before pulling your shorts and underwear down in one fell swoop. Your wings were the next to go, and she took a moment to admire you before continuing on. 

Karina palmed your ass with one hand while she used her other to slide her shorts down, freeing her hardening cock. 

She held your waist steady as she slipped it between your legs, rubbing her cock against your wet folds. 

“A condom..?” she breathed, reaching up past you toward the medicine cabinet behind the large bathroom mirror. 

“I-I’m on the pill,” you replied a little too eagerly. Karina let out an amused huff. 

“Well then,” she said, bending you over farther, “be a good little lamb for me.”

The pet name and the sensation of her sliding into you made your legs nearly give out. She let you take a few moments to adjust to her. You hadn’t even gotten a good look at her cock but the way you pulsed around her let you know she was plenty big. 

The vampire let out a soft moan. 

“That’s it, there you go,” she cooed in your ear as she slid deeper inside you. You whimpered and she rewarded you with a kiss against your neck. 

You felt every bit as good around her cock as she thought you would. Karina closed her eyes, lost for a moment in the pleasure she felt being sheathed inside your warm, wet pussy. 

When you could finally let her move inside you, she started gently, her hands gripping your waist to support you. You were absolutely soaked, and the sounds of her thrusting became even more lewd as your wetness added to them. 

“Fuck,” she groaned. The vampire picked up her pace and it left you nearly breathless, unable to do anything but take her pounding and let out small, humiliating repetitive cries with each stroke. 

Your added slick allowed her to fuck you at an even faster pace. She leaned down over you, making you bend over further for her. At this new angle, you fell apart while she split you open. 

Gone were your soft cries, replaced with more raw, desperate moans. She felt so good inside of you; it had been ages since you felt this full and sated. 

Karina laughed as your cries grew louder. “Does it feel that good, angel? So good you want everyone to know how much you like being fucked right now?”

You could only moan in response, too focused on keeping the vampire inside of you to worry about the rest of your surroundings. You arched your back as much as you could, trying to entice her more. 

It worked. “Jesus,” Karina murmured. “You look just as good as you feel…” her eyes closed for a moment, losing her pace. When she resumed though, you knew you were really in for it. 

Karina’s thrusts became harsher, deeper, but also sloppier. She panted in your ear; her breath on your neck made you shiver. 

“Gonna cum,” she grunted. “You feel too fucking good.”

“I-In me,” you pleaded, knowing you must’ve looked as desperate as you sounded. “You can cum in me.”

Karina looked up at your reflection, catching your eye in the mirror. “Yeah?” she asked. You gulped. Her eyes were wild with desire. You nodded, and when she grinned in response, it sent an excited chill down your spine. 

The vampire took off again, plowing into you at a brutal, desperate pace that thrilled you. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” she cursed, and then her hips slammed against you the hardest they ever had. You gasped when you felt it— Karina spilling her load in you. She continued to fuck into you as she came, bringing you closer to reaching your own release. 

Hearing your pants and whines get breathier, Karina snaked one hand around in front of you to tease your clit. 

You cried out, eyes squeezing shut as her fingers and your body fumbled for a few moments, both of you trying to find just the right angle that would— 

“Right there,” you rasped, your cunt clenching around her cock. “I’m gonna cum,” you cried, head tilting back a bit. 

Karina tsked in response. While one hand continued to circle your soaked clit, she used her other to yank your hair, making you tilt your head back up to look at the two of you in the mirror. Her thrusting hips held you in place. 

“Look at me when you cum,” she murmured, and you fought to hold her gaze. The moment you locked eyes with her, it sent you over the edge and you came around her. 

A satisfied smile crossed her lips, and then she released her hold on you. 

Catching your breath, the two of you stayed still for a minute until she could finally pull out. 

Some of her load spilled out of you, splattering beneath you on the bathroom’s tiled floor. 

You were slightly disappointed you couldn’t keep her full load in you, but Karina watched with great satisfaction. She gave your ass an appreciative slap, then squeezed your cheek in her hand.

The air was thick with more sexual tension as the two of you began to clean yourselves and the rest of the space up. The vampire helped you back into your costume, making sure your clothing was still in pristine condition. 

You tried not to look, but couldn’t help yourself from sneaking a glance at Karina while she tucked her softening cock back into her shorts. 

“Are you ready?” the vampire’s voice made you look up quickly.

“Yeah,” you said, not moving. Your nerves had returned. The music from the party outside was still just as loud, as were the conversations and laughter of partygoers, but you were anxious to see who was on the other side of the door– who, and how many, had heard you. 

“Hey, relax,” Karina said, sensing your mood shift. “It’s my party, no one’s going to say anything.”

You looked up at her curiously. “Wait— so you live here?” 

Karina unlocked the bathroom door and opened it. She led you out quickly. 

“Yeah,” she said casually, keeping your attention on her and away from some of the people nearby who definitely knew what had just happened between the two of you in there. “It’s a four bedroom. Ryujin didn’t tell you?” 

“N-no,” you stammered. You were going to say more but she was already leading you back to the main party space. Her warm hand held yours securely, but not tightly, as you weaved through the blur of people. 

She dropped your hand shortly after. You looked down, wondering why, when a familiar voice called out. 

“YN!” Ryujin said, approaching the two of you. “There you are!” Your roommate beamed at you, clearly having forgotten about the drink she asked you to get her. Instead, she held two tiny shot glasses in each hand. “Yeji and I were about to do some shots. I see you’ve met Karina.” 

You blushed. “Uh, yeah,” was all you could manage. 

“You didn’t tell me your roommate was so pretty, Ryujin,” the vampire said, stepping away. “I’m glad you came.” She winked at you, making your blush deepen. “See you around, angel.” 

[coco-loco-nut]

Touchdown

pairing: logan x reader

summary: Logan finally gets the college experience through his girlfriend

masterlist requests open

—————————————

The cool autumn breeze greets you as you exit your class. With a shiver, you wish that you grabbed the jacket like Logan suggested. In your defense, the sun was going down at 4pm now, and it was warmer when you left for your class.

“How was class?” Logan asks from your couch as you walk into your house.

“Boring, stupidest requirement ever,” you groan, heading up the stairs to your room. Logan has taken over the house you rent with your friends, and somehow they love him being here.

Since he got dropped from Williams, he kicked around the idea of staying with you rather than going back and forth between Florida and you.

You change into pajama pants and an old Purdue hoodie that you got on a visit during your senior year of high school. As you head back down the stairs with your laptop, you see Logan looking at you from the couch with a smile.

“How was your trip to Ohio?” You ask as you take a seat beside him. He got back from the Meyer Shank Racing headquarters on your way out the door, so you didn’t have a chance to ask earlier.

“It was good. If they bring me on you might have to transfer to Ohio State,” Logan pulls you close, burying his head into your shoulder. You immediately lean away in disgust. The only thing worse would be suggesting you transfer to Indiana.

“Don’t ever say that again,” your voice is firm as Logan raises his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles, pulling you back close to him.

“I will take back your ticket for Saturday,” you threaten, not letting him soothe the bristles. He loves how stubborn you are though, calls it part of your charm.

“Mhmm, who else will be there to listen to you complain about poor coaching decisions?”

“Lo, the team is one and eight. That one win came from an FCS team. Plenty of people in the stadium would love to complain with me,” you snort.

“See, I’m going because I love you. Should I show up in Penn State gear? Start a ‘We Are’ chant? Make myself look better for the fans?” Logan’s shit-eating grin somehow makes you smile despite part of you wanting to roll your eyes.

“Shut up,” you laugh, gently shoving him. “But yeah, you may want to do that. The chances of us winning against a playoff team is highly unlikely,”

“I’ll see what I can do then,” Logan kisses the side of your head as you open your laptop. “I’ll make dinner while you work on that,”

“Thanks, Lo,” you smile, watching him walk to your kitchen.

As much as you hate to admit it, a small part of you is happy that Logan was dropped. Every part of you wants him to succeed and be happy, but you cannot deny that is nice having him in America and close more than when he was with Williams. Even if it means him going to Ohio every once in a while for a test drive, you are happy.

Logan won’t admit it out loud either, but he loves the change of pace. He really hated the end of his time with Williams, and the fans were kind of right about his frat energy. He loves living college life through you and your roommates, and he likes that his talents can still be utilized through Indycar.

He peeks around the corner, watching as you concentrate on a math problem. The way you bite your lip, run a hand through your hair as you rack your brain for the right formula, he wouldn’t trade these small moments for anything.

Logan dutifully buys you food and hot chocolate at the game as you hold your seats with the girls. He did wear one of your hoodies, but jokingly joined a nearby tailgate of Penn State fans just to antagonize you. You found it funny, or else it is a break up worthy offense in your book. You don’t mess around your sports fandoms.

“Let’s go!” Logan cheers, turning to look at you. Your face has a mix of disbelief, but also disappointment in your expression. “Why aren’t you cheering, they scored a touchdown?”

“It’s double lined,” you groan, angered at the field design. “He was outside the end zone, the pylon marking the corner was right in front of him when he caught the ball,” you aren’t surprised that the situation is happening, but you didn’t expect it to be so silly.

“That’s so stupid,” Logan pouts for you, watching as the team kicks a field goal instead.

“At least it isn’t a shutout now,” you sigh.

“What’s worse, watching a tractor of a Williams or that team?” Logan asks as you leave, ready to hit the bars to drown the pain of staying the entire game.

“Williams, but only because I had to watch you suffer,” you lean into him, your friends having abandoned you in the middle of the second quarter.

“Well, I’m glad your suffering is over,” Logan chuckles, helping you expertly navigate the crowd.

“I’m really excited for your test drive. Your seat fitting made everything more real,” you smoothly change the topic.

“One step at a time,” Logan plays it down as you head to Harry’s. Luckily for you, you know a bartender well who happens to also be a huge motorsport fan. Every time you bring Logan with you, you immediately get in without paying cover.

“Y/n, come here,” Luke calls out as you pretend to not see him.

“Hey! Are the girls inside?” you ask, knowing he has a crush on your roommate. You and Logan are taking bets on when they get together or hook up.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Luke lets you in, both of you getting engulfed by the crowd as you find the table your roommates are at.

“I’ll get drinks, go ahead and order us food,” Logan says as you reach the table, going back into the crowd.

“How was the rest of the game?” Millie asks, sipping her almost empty cup.

“Cold and miserable,” you plop into one of the two saved seats.

“Maybe next week against Michigan State?” Lainey tries to add hope.

“We couldn’t even beat Northwestern, it’s time to turn our focus to basketball,” Valerie counters.

“We should’ve left when you did,” you sigh.

“It could be worse, you could be home sick like Kristen is,” Millie offers.

“True, should we bring her back some food?” you ask, looking at the menu despite knowing what you will order.

“Already ordered soup on Doordash for her,”

“Thanks Val, I’ll pay you back since it was my turn,” you pull up Venmo. You take turns doordashing food for each other when sick, a silly tradition you started as Freshmen.

You discuss the upcoming season for basketball until Logan returns.

“Perfect timing, the waitress is walking over now,” you smile, handing him the menu as you take your drink.

“To forgetting today’s game,” Lainey toasts once the waitress is gone, earning a round of cheers from your table.

As you continue drinking, the air feels light with laughter. Logan’s arm around your chair, you leaning into him, and the voices of your roommates ringing out as they playfully argue. Logan joins in, adding to what he thinks the best Barbie movie is.

That’s how you all find yourselves stumbling home, curling up in the living room, and watching what was decided as the best one.

“You guys are so loud,” Kristen groans from the couch, sounding very congested.

“Sorry K,” Millie practically yells, causing everyone to wince.

Logan leaves relatively early the next morning to fly out to California for his test, making sure there is coffee brewed to help your hangovers.

“You know, I’ve always been against boyfriends as an extra roommate, but I think Logan’s an exception,” Valerie says as she nurses her coffee.

“He said he’d help with the Christmas party,” Lainey adds, earning a nod of approval from Valerie.

“I’m glad you guys approve, it’s been hard with him being dropped,” you admit.

Logan has been living for the college life. He joins in on girls nights when invited, eagerly joining in on gossip and buying wine. He even wears face masks sometimes.

One day after Thanksgiving, you all return from classes to find the house decorated, even a tree in the living room.

“What the hell?” you ask, shocked at the decorations. Logan appears from the kitchen, a santa hat on his head as he carries a box of lights.

“I’m about to hang these on the porch, butter for tonight is set out,” Logan smiles, walking past your group.

“If you don’t marry him I will,” Kristen says, dropping her backpack.

“Ditto,” Lainey laughs.

“Shush,” you blush, heading to the kitchen to see the recipe cards pulled out as well as most of the ingredients you need for your cookie baking night.

The small things like that continue throughout the spring semester, so much so that the girls insist that he joins in one of your graduation pictures. Logan offers to use his connections to get you a job, but you refuse. You want to try different sectors and apply to them before utilizing his motorsport contacts.

“Congratulations,” Logan kisses you once he finds you and the girls.

“Thanks, Lo” you smile, full of pride.

He meets you and your parents back at the house the next day, a pang of sadness hitting both of you.

The house feels empty. You have been packing and moving boxes all week, preparing for graduation and moving on from Purdue. Only the essentials remain, a stark contrast from how Logan first came to know you and your roommates. For you and the girls, it’s the end of an era. You are all going your separate ways, spreading across the country.

“I’m going to miss this place,” Logan says, holding a box of your things. He stands beside you on the porch, looking inside. There is no sign that anyone actively lives in it other than a couple lights on and a fan running.

“Me too. I can’t wait to spend the summer following you though,” you smile, shifting the weight of a box in your arms.

“We will come back soon. Maybe Purdue will have a winning football record this year,” Logan says, eliciting a snort from you.

“Doubt it.”