#i feel like they wrote themselves into a corner at the end of the last season

[unnamed-atlas]

Finally finished sweet tooth s3. Having incredibly mixed feelings

[ourdawnishotterthanourday]

RAW [M] — Lee Seokmin

✧ If you're a freak and you know it, clap them cheeks ✧

In which Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend, fucks you raw for the first time, and ends up discovering his kinky side.

✧ Genre: domestic AU; SMUT [18+], established relationship ♥ Pairing: female!reader x boyfriend!Lee Seokmin ✧ Word count: 6.3k+ ✦ Warnings: nsfw warnings under the cut! ✎ Notes: hope y'all enjoy this little seok fic I wrote for you 🤭 was feeling a little feral, so this concept fit my mood perfectly hehe ♕ Shout out:  thanks to my amazing bestie @whipped-for-kpop-fics for making me this masterpiece of a banner AND helping me brainstorm for this one. This one really couldn't have happened without you and your shrexy brain! I love youuuuu 💖 and thank you thank you thank you @wonuvs for beta-reading this for me!! Very much appreciated :3

♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡

nsfw warnings: outdoor/public sex, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, spanking, raw sex (the title is there for a reason hehe), heavy breeding kink, feral seok dirty talk, messy creampie (pls let me know if I missed any!)

You had every intention to hang the wet laundry out to dry on this beautiful sunny day. It was a simple task, really, one you could have completed in less than five minutes had you not let yourself get distracted. 

Said distraction came in the form of Lee Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend of four years, who had decided to take advantage of the nice weather and switch his usual gym session for a home workout in your garden.

It was quite the sight as he sat on the weight bench, his gorgeous sun-kissed arms and legs on full display, toned muscles pulling and coiling with every raise of his arms. His skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, making his brown locks stick messily to his forehead. It was almost as if he was chiseled by the gods themselves with how absolutely breathtaking he looked in the bright and glowy sunlight.

You had to resist looking over every few seconds as you attempted to put the laundry pieces on the clothes line. But as the minutes passed, you quickly discovered that trying to suppress the urge to gawk at your hot boyfriend was a battle you weren’t going to win, especially when he was constantly releasing those sinful grunts that sent your mind into a frenzy. 

Before you knew it, the laundry was long forgotten. The only thing that was going through your mind in that moment was how much you wanted — no, needed — to feel Seokmin’s sweaty body against yours. Thanks to your busy and exhausting schedules, it had been a few days since you and your boyfriend last had sex, which, with a sex drive as high as yours, had driven your need for the man to an all time high. 

It was time to do something about that.

Your legs were already moving on their own accord as your hungry gaze settled on Seokmin’s thick thighs, a mischievous smile overtaking your features as you planned out your next move.

Your boyfriend was completely lost in his own world, totally oblivious to the thirsty thoughts floating around in your head as you crept up on him. The headphones he wore drowned out any distracting sounds as he focused on his reps, and with his eyes fully closed, he did not hear you approach him until it was already too late. 

“What the f— baby?!” Seokmin nearly dropped the two 8kg dumbbells he was holding when you jumped him out of nowhere, trapping him with your arms and legs like a clingy koala. 

“That’s me.” You giggled at the dazed look on your boyfriend’s face as you uncovered his ears.   

“What’s the meaning of this?” he breathed, carefully lowering his arms to place the dumbbells into the grass.

You licked your lips, shifting your hips slightly to get more comfortable. “What does it look like?”

“Like you’re trying to kill me,” he groaned before firmly planting his hands onto your sides to get you to stop rubbing against his crotch. 

A sly grin tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That’s what I was trying to go for.” 

“Oh, were you now?” He raised his eyebrows. “I was almost done with my workout, you know?”

“Hmm, that really sucks then.” You tangled your fingers in his messy hair. 

“Give me five more minutes,” he mumbled, briefly closing his eyes at the feeling of your nails scratching along his sensitive scalp. 

“No,” you whined, immediately stopping all movement, much to your boyfriend's disappointment. “I need attention now. It's been too fucking long already.”

You didn't care how whiney you sounded. You needed him right at this moment, and you sure as hell weren't going to wait another minute, especially not for him to finish his damn workout. 

“But I'm sweaty,” he argued with a scrunch of his nose. 

You smirked at that, tightening your grip on his hair as you moved in closer, your lips now less than an inch apart. 

“Even better,” you whispered before teasingly brushing your lips against his. “You're fucking hot when you're sweaty,” you continued, which was followed by you shifting your hips once again, this time with a little more force. 

Seokmin released a sharp hiss at the throbbing sensation your hips left in their wake. The muscles in his thighs automatically tightened, and so did the grip on your waist, all of which you were more than excited about. You got him right where you wanted, and it was only a matter of time before he would take the bait. 

“You're the devil.”

“Only when I have to be.” You grinned, your big twinkling eyes glued to his face as you slowly began to trail one of your hands down his chest. You only stopped when you reached the now very prominent bulge in his black shorts. 

“Fucking hell,” Seokmin cursed under his breath when you gave him a little experimental squeeze. It was just a simple touch, but he already felt the arousal gradually starting to overtake his mind and body. Just a minute ago, he’d been in full workout mode, but now he suddenly couldn’t stop imagining you stuffed full with his cock, begging him to make you cum again and again until you could no longer move. 

You took advantage of the moment and closed the little bit of distance between you to pull him into a deep kiss. Seokmin didn’t resist, already having decided that he’d much rather spend his time pleasuring his pretty and horny girlfriend instead of finishing the remainder of his stupid arm reps. Besides, you were right. It had been a while since he’d gotten his dick wet, so if you wanted to change that, who was he to object?

It only took a few seconds before Seokmin’s lips were just as hungry and forceful as yours, pulling at your mouth with an eagerness that made your gut clench with anticipation. 

His hands navigated down to the swell of your ass, fingers digging roughly into the soft fabric of the yellow sundress you were wearing to press you into his growing erection. You moaned into the kiss at the sudden shift, your own hands moving to grasp at whatever piece of bare skin you could find as you felt yourself grow hotter by the second. 

Your patience was slowly beginning to run thin the longer you sat in his lap with your panties soaked and your neglected cunt begging to be filled. You honestly hadn't felt this needy in a while, so you really didn't want to deprive yourself of Seokmin’s dick for much longer. And you prayed that he felt the same. 

You knew the man liked to drag the whole thing out with a shit ton of foreplay, which often included endless make out sessions and bringing you to multiple squirting climaxes before he even got to fuck you. It was the whole reason sex with Seokmin had become one of your favorite pastime activities in the first place. 

Your boyfriend was a natural at pleasuring you, and he had been since day one. You quickly learned that faking pleasure and Seokmin could never belong in the same sentence. In fact, more often than not, you’ve had to beg him to stop making you cum for fear of passing out from over stimulation. But even in those moments, he usually still managed to pull another few mind-shattering orgasms out of you like the magician he was, and you were certainly not complaining. 

It was just that right now, in this particular moment, you needed him to skip the long foreplay and fastforward to the part where he fucked you stupid. 

“Min, I need you inside me so bad,” you whimpered in between kisses, hoping your boyfriend would get the hint and give you just that. 

He did not get it. 

All you got out of it was an appreciative grunt and a harsh squeeze to your backside that did nothing to satiate the pulsing ache in your pussy. 

Accepting that you were just going to have to speed things up yourself, your hand sneakily found the waistband of his shorts, fingers already tugging the material out of the way to grab a hold of his hard dick. If everything worked out in your favor, you'd be sitting on it within the next twenty seconds. 

“Fuck, baby,” Seokmin groaned, one of his hands clasping around your wrist before you even had the chance to wiggle your hand inside his shorts. “Why don't we go inside before we start ripping off clothes, hmm?”

“No.” Confusion. That’s the emotion that flashed across your boyfriend’s face at the sound of your outright no. 

“No? But I thought you wanted to…?” He frowned, slightly loosening his hold on you when he thought you didn’t want to continue. 

You quickly wrapped his arms back around your waist before grasping his face in your hands. 

“Oh, I do.” A cheeky grin pulled at your mouth. “Right here. You're fucking me here.”

“Right here? O-outside?” Seokmin stuttered, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he seemed to process your words. 

Although your sex life was pretty active and more than satisfying, you couldn’t exactly call it adventurous. Despite many of your close friends believing that you and Seokmin were a couple of kinky fuckers, your sexual escapades were usually limited to your bedroom and definitely more on the vanilla side of the spectrum. 

Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course. On the contrary, even the most vanilla sex with him felt a hundred times better than the riskier and more experimental sex you’d engaged in with some of your exes, so you didn’t even really miss it. Still, sometimes — like right now — you wished he’d just throw you around and fuck you into the next day for everyone to see. 

You were, however, very much aware that asking him to fuck you in the garden was a complete one-eighty from your usual bedroom adventures, and it could potentially get you caught by your nosy old neighbors, which was definitely a con. But then again, you were feeling unusually risky today, so you honestly couldn't care less who got to see you getting railed. Your only concern right now was soothing the ache in your throbbing cunt. 

All you had to do was convince your lovely, handsome boyfriend to make that happen. 

“Yes, right here.” You nodded and reached up to undo the first two buttons of your dress, taking note of how your boyfriend's eyes automatically gravitated towards your fingers. “Got a problem with that?”

“Well, uh…” Seokmin swallowed thickly as you popped three more buttons, exposing the strapless, lacy, white see-through bra you were wearing underneath. Your hard peaks were poking right through the flimsy material, which made it nearly impossible for him to rip his eyes away from the arousing sight. Your boyfriend was a sucker for your boobs — or any part of your body for that matter — which is exactly why you hoped the next part of your plan would work.

“I think— uh…” He tried to form a coherent sentence, but failed terribly when you popped another three buttons, his eyes following diligently as your action revealed the smooth skin of your stomach. “What I’m trying to s— that…”

By the time you popped the remaining three buttons, Seokmin had completely forgotten what he was going to say. His eyes were practically glued to your body, in particular to the matching see-through panties that left little to the imagination. They gave him a perfect view of your puffy folds and the arousal seeping through the already drenched material. 

Seokmin was — understandably —  having a hard time keeping it all together.

“Well?” You suppressed a grin to hide the fact that you were thoroughly enjoying the effect you had on your handsome boyfriend. “You gonna help me undress or do I have to do everything myself?”

You got your answer when he planted his lips back on yours without another word, hardly giving you a second to breathe as he pushed his tongue past your lips. You instantly melted against him as your body flooded with heat once more, your hands fumbling to grasp onto his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 

Seokmin’s fingers made quick work of your bra, skillfully unclasping the constricting garment and throwing it carelessly in the grass. He took a moment to admire your newly exposed flesh, eyes darting from one nipple to the other before they drifted back down to the drenched panties hugging your cunt. 

He subconsciously licked his lips as he imagined his face buried between your legs, drowning himself in the taste of your sweet juices while you screamed out his name. 

“Stop staring like a creep and do something, please.” Your hand was back in his hair, fingers tightly gripping onto his locks as you pulled at his head, forcing him to rip his eyes away from your pussy and back up to your face. 

“You want me to do something?” An amused smile took over your boyfriend's features as he took in your desperate expression. 

“Yes!” you nearly cried, feeling seconds away completely losing your shit. “I swear to god, Seokmin. If your dick is not inside me within the next twenty seconds I’ll d— ah!”

You didn’t get to finish the rest of your sentence as you were cut off by your own shriek, eyes going wide with shock as you gaped at a smug-looking Seokmin. Just a second ago, you’d been sitting in his lap, but now you suddenly found yourself trapped beneath him, sprawled out on the metal workout bench and completely at his mercy.  

“You'll do what, baby?” Seokmin smirked triumphantly at your stunned face.

“Forget that,” you breathed, using the grip you had on his hair to pull him in for another kiss. “Fuck, that was hot. I want more where that came from.”

“Noted.” His eyes darkened as he pulled back slightly, and you released the grip you had on his head to allow him to lean back further. 

Your belly fluttered with anticipation when he moved the fabric of your dress aside to make contact with your bare skin. His hands teasingly began to trail down your sides, sending a series of tingles down your spine as you let your mind run wild with desire. 

A shaky breath left your mouth when your boyfriend hooked his fingers into your underwear, excitement filling your body instantly. You were already starting to lift your hips, eager to help him get rid of the one thing separating your cunt from his hungry gaze. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to pin you back down and tear your panties right off your body with a single move. You were left speechless once again, watching as your boyfriend proudly held up the torn lace before letting it fall to the ground. 

That was definitely going on your ‘Hottest Lee Seokmin Moments’ list.  

“You’re really trying to drive me insane over here,” you mumbled when you’d finally found your voice again. 

“You ask, I deliver.” Seokmin chuckled and continued to pull his shirt over his head in one smooth movement, revealing a set of mouthwatering glistening abs and a little dark happy trail that disappeared into his black shorts.

“Good.” Your eyes shifted back up to his with a new determination, your legs slightly opening to give him a nice view of your slick cunt. “Then I’m asking you to fuck me next.” 

With one hand, you reached for the waistband of his shorts, fully intent on tugging it down just enough so you could pull his dick out and guide it into your dripping hole. 

But Seokmin had other plans. 

“Now what?” you whined when his hands stopped you mid-move, wrapping themselves around your wrists just like he’d done before.

What would it take for a girl to get some dick from her boyfriend?

“Not so fast, baby. I'm gonna take care of you first.”

You shook your head in protest. “But I don’t want to wait any longer, Min. Please.”

“Do you want my dick or not, baby?” You’d never nodded faster. “Then be a good girl and spread those legs wider for me.”

That little command had you automatically spread your legs wider, a soft moan rolling off your lips as your walls clenched hard around nothing. Never in the time you’d been with Seokmin had he called you a good girl, but you found that you liked it… a lot. And you wouldn’t mind if he called you that more often from now on. 

“Oh? Does my baby like being called a good girl?” Seokmin smirked, his dark orbs burning into your own as he pushed your legs back as far as you could manage.

“Yes, fuck… so hot,” you whimpered, your legs twitching when you felt his hot breath ghost over your glossy cunt. 

“Keep being good and I’ll keep calling you that,” he murmured right before dipping his tongue between your slick folds.  

The debauched moan you released in response was enough to make Seokmin’s cock jerk uncontrollably inside his shorts. In return, he released a deep groan of appreciation, sending a wave of delicious vibrations to your core that automatically had you try to clamp your legs around your boyfriend's head. But Seokmin, who was way ahead of you, had such a tight hold on your thighs that it was nearly impossible to move. 

He used that grip to bury his entire face in your pussy, hardly giving himself room to breathe to completely drown himself in the taste of you, determined to get you to squirt your juices all over his face. 

With his skillful tongue alternating between flicking and sucking on your sensitive clit, applying just the right amount of pleasure in all the right spots to bring you to the edge, it took less than a minute before you were moaning his name like a mad woman.

Seokmin relished in the lewd sounds he pulled from you, and the way you desperately gripped at his hair to steady yourself as he devoured you, completely drunk on the taste of your pussy. His dick was painfully hard, straining against the inside of his shorts, practically begging him to relieve some of that agonizing tension. But in all honesty, chasing his own pleasure was the last thing on his mind right now. All that mattered was you, your climax, and nothing else.

It was even at the point that he'd momentarily forgotten you were doing all of this outside, in the garden, where any neighbor would be able to hear or see the obscene things he was doing to you. Not too long ago, Seokmin would have reeled at the thought of engaging in risky public sex, but now, here he was, eating you out in the garden and enjoying every bit of it, not a single fuck given. 

You found yourself in a similar position, eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body twitching and shuddering from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your nerves. It wasn’t exactly how you’d planned things to go — still no dick — but it certainly helped quench the worst of your sexual cravings. The way the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue said enough. 

“F-fuck that’s gonna make me cum so fast, holy shit!” you whimpered when your boyfriend suddenly slid two of his long fingers inside you, immediately curling them up to press against that sensitive spot he knew would make you lose your mind. 

Seokmin only hummed against your pussy, his eyes catching yours as the corners of his mouth tugged up into a devilish smirk. Then, his hand was speeding up, fingers mercilessly batting against your sweet spot while his tongue lapped at your swollen clit. He watched you succumb to the pleasure with hungry eyes, your face contorted in pure ecstasy as your moans got louder and louder the closer you got. 

“You like that, baby?” your boyfriend rasped, his mouth briefly detaching from your clit. 

Your cunt clenched around his fingers in response, the only sound coming out of your mouth being a needy whine since you couldn’t find it in yourself to come up with a sane response with how scrambled your mind was.

That was met with a sharp nip at your swollen nub.

“Answer me,” Seokmin growled, apparently not satisfied with your lack of words.

You yelped loudly at the unexpected but very welcoming stinging sensation that had your nerves singing with pleasure. “Shit— yes! I fucking do!”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised with a harsh slap to your inner thigh before taking your clit back between his wet lips.

The sound of the pet name unraveled something inside you, drawing every muscle in your body taut as you were abruptly thrown over the edge. The full force of your toe-curling orgasm caused you to cry out your boyfriend’s name, your legs trapping his head between your thighs while drenching his pretty face with your arousal. 

Seokmin was perfectly content like that, groaning into your cunt like a starved man as he tried to catch every last drop of your slick with his mouth. Even when you began pushing at his head to get him away from your overstimulated pussy, it took him another twenty seconds before he finally detached himself, looking up at you with a dopey, satisfied grin and his chin dripping with your arousal. 

“You’re insatiable, Lee Seokmin,” you rasped, chest heaving as you tried to recover from the intense high you’d just experienced. 

Said man leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss right below your belly button.

“Yes,” He moved up slightly, this time placing a kiss right above it, “I am.” His lips trailed over your breast, goosebumps forming along the way, “But…” He nipped at your neck, “you…” he whispered, his lips hovering right above yours, “were so good for me,” he finished, capturing your lips into another heated kiss.

The taste of yourself on your boyfriend’s lips lit a new fire inside your belly, your skin flushing hot with a new surge of desire. It also didn’t help that his hands were back on your thighs, kneading and rubbing at them, making every one of your nerve endings come back to life under his scorching touch. 

“Min, get your dick out and fuck me,” you mumbled against his lips, determined to not take no for an answer this time. 

Seokmin was fully prepared to give into your demands this time, no longer wanting to tease you because he was feeling just as desperate and eager to be inside you. There was, however,  just one little thing he hadn’t thought of before. But now with you sprawled out before him in all your naked glory, begging for his cock, the little voice in the back of his mind decided to make an appearance. 

“Fuck.” He grimaced. “Just hold on, okay? I’ll be right back,” he said, leaning forward to kiss you softly before making a move to get up. 

You quickly grabbed onto his arm to stop him, confusion taking over your features at the sudden switch in mood.  

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Condoms… don’t have any on me. I’ll quickly grab one from inside.”

“We don’t need them,” you blurted out, immediately biting your bottom lip when you realized what you'd said.

Seokmin’s eyes visibly widened at your bold suggestion. “But you're not on any birth control. I could actually get you pregnant.”

“Would it really be that bad?” At that, the man’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. 

The topic of kids was nothing new between the two of you. It had come up on multiple occasions during the span of your relationship, and it was pretty clear that both you and Seokmin loved kids. The both of you always jumped at the chance of babysitting his two year-old nephew whenever Seokmin’s sister and her husband needed someone to watch him, happy to spoil him and play with him as if he was your own. 

It was no secret that you wanted a big family, and so did Seokmin, so that wasn’t the reason he was a little hesitant to fuck you without protection. He just really didn’t want you to regret anything if you did end up pregnant by the end of it, because a child was a big responsibility after all. 

But he also couldn’t deny that he wasn’t tempted by the idea of your warm walls hugging his dick without anything in the way, and being able to empty his load inside your greedy, slick-covered hole like he’d always wanted to do. 

It was hard not to give in to that, especially when you were looking at him with those big, seductive eyes of yours.

“Baby, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” you shot back, a mix of determination and lust adorning your face as you challenged your boyfriend. 

Seokmin frowned, running a hand through his damp hair. “We should think about this…”

“I already did, and I want this. I wanna feel you… all of you… inside me.” You looked up at him with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster. 

“Fuck, you’re not making it easy for me,” your boyfriend sighed, feeling completely torn between doing the responsible thing and giving in to his carnal desires. 

“Then stop thinking and just fill me with cum.”

Seokmin gulped, letting out a shaky breath as he felt himself slowly start to lose the battle.

“Shit. Are you absolutely sure about this? Is this really what you want, baby?” he asked, placing his hands on either side of the bench to cage you in.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up to touch your nose to his. “If you're asking me if I want you to fuck a baby in me then yes, I totally want that,” you breathed, a small smile gracing your face.

Seokmin’s dick twitched in his shorts at your declaration, unlocking a new level of desire that he didn’t know existed. His body was full-on buzzing, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he felt the gears in his mind switch to a whole different setting. 

You noticed the change in your boyfriend the moment the words had left your lips, the uncertain expression that had been on his face just now making way for a much more ominous expression, one you didn’t quite recognize. 

“Min?” 

“Bend over.” 

“O-okay.” The slight edge to his tone had you scrambling to turn around for him, nearly causing you to fall off the bench in the process as your legs got tangled up in your dress. You planned to rip the clothing piece off your body to make your life easier, but the sudden hand pinning your wrist to your back made that impossible.

“Dress stays on,” your boyfriend’s low voice sounded from behind you as you felt him flip up the material to reveal the supple skin of your ass.

You were about to protest, but the harsh slap to your behind that followed made you think twice about opening your mouth. The impact of his hand connecting with your tender skin pulled a soft whine from you, leaving you with a pleasant stinging sensation that sent a hot streak of arousal right down to your pussy. 

There was barely any time to recover from the first slap before he delivered a second one, this one even more intense and brutal than the last one, forcing you to fight down a scream as you jolted forward, barely able to keep your balance since you only had one hand available to steady yourself. 

Your boyfriend was no stranger to delivering the occasional slap to your ass, but it had always been in a loving kind of way and never like this… so rough and thrilling. So if this kind of spanking was your boyfriend’s reaction to seeing you bent over in your half-discarded dress, then you had no problem keeping it on.

“Such a good girl for me,” Seokmin groaned, his cock twitching once again as he watched your ass jiggle for a third time when his hand reconnected with your delicate flesh. You could only moan in response as you felt yourself get wetter with every slap, hand gripping onto the bench for dear life while you let your boyfriend have his way with you. 

Only after the tenth slap or so, when Seokmin noticed your legs were close to giving out on you, he released the wrist he was holding and allowed you to take a breather while he rushed to shove his shorts and underwear down his legs, finally freeing the raging boner he’d been neglecting for the past twenty minutes.

The man didn’t waste any time as he grabbed onto your waist with one hand, lining up his engorged tip with your dripping cunt with the other. 

A shudder ripped through him when he pushed forward, greedy eyes fixed on his cock disappearing between your ass cheeks, slowly getting enveloped by your tight walls as they made room for him. 

It was unlike any feeling Seokmin had ever experienced. Although he was barely halfway inside, he was sure he wasn’t going to last as long as he usually would have. Without the usual barrier in the way, he was able to feel it all, every little sensation — the warmth radiating off your walls as he slid in further, your creamy slick drenching his cock from head to base — it took everything in him to stop himself from bursting as he imagined how good you’d look with your ripe cunt stuffed full of his seed. 

Seokmin’s pupils were fully blown by the time your ass connected with his pelvis, his jaw clenched and the grip on your waist bordering on bruising as he momentarily stilled to let you both get used to the new feeling. 

You weren’t doing much better, trying to deal with the blissful ache whirling in your stomach as you tried to accommodate the familiar stretch. Only this time, you were able to actually feel the bulging veins forking along his length as they throbbed against your inner walls in the most intoxicating way. 

“Shit, Min,” you moaned, tightening your grip on the bench, “Just fuck me already. Feels so damn good like this.”

At your plea, Seokmin pulled his hips back slightly, slowly dragging his throbbing tip along your sensitive walls before abruptly burying his entire girth back inside your warm cunt with a loud groan.

“Yeah? Like that?”

“Yes… harder,” you whined, impatiently wiggling your ass in search of more of that delicious friction. 

“Fucking gladly,” he muttered, moving one of his hands to your shoulder before repeating the motion again, only this time with a lot more force and speed, which earned him a series of salacious moans that went straight down to his pulsing cock.  

It didn't take long for Seokmin to completely lose every bit of sanity he possessed as he vigorously drove his hips into your ass, your pussy squelching loudly every time his cock slammed back inside your slippery hole. 

He’d never felt like this before… fully overtaken by this primal need to breed you like the good girl you were, completely set on ruining you with his cock and stuffing load after load of cum inside your hot cunt until you couldn’t fit anymore. 

The regular Seokmin, aka the sweet man who made you breakfast every day and made sure you had absolutely everything you could wish for, would have been a messy blushing puddle with all these nasty thoughts running through his mind. But this Seokmin, the pussy drunk, sex-crazed man who was fucking you as if his life depended on it, only felt himself get more riled up with every new lewd thought that entered his mind, not feeling bashful in the slightest. 

You honestly didn’t know where the hell this Seokmin had come from, but you hoped that this wouldn’t be the last of him. His rough thrusts had you feeling like a complete wreck in the best sense of the word, causing you to release an obscene number of sounds you didn’t even know you could make. It was no doubt the best dicking your boyfriend had ever given you, but too much for your body to keep up — you discovered that when your legs suddenly decided to give out on you mid-thrust. 

Fortunately, your boyfriend was prepared and caught you just in time, firmly wrapping one of his beefy arms around your tits to press you against his bare chest, while his free hand clamped around your neck, forcing you to tilt your head up to the clear blue sky as he continued to pound into your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck, gonna fill this pussy,” Seokmin growled into your ear, his breath hot against the side of your face. “Gonna fill it with my cum, fucking show the world you’re mine… get your pretty belly round with my baby,” he continued, never slowing down his unrelenting pace.

“God, yes!” you moaned, eyes once again rolling to the back of your head as your walls fluttered in response to the filth rolling off your boyfriend’s tongue. 

“Dirty girl. You like the thought of me fucking a baby into you?”

”Y-yes, fuck… want it, want your baby!” 

You didn’t think it was possible but Seokmin’s hips sped up even more after you’d said that, making you cry out loud as you clung onto his forearm to center yourself.

“Gonna fill you up like you deserve, stuff you full till you can’t walk. This pussy is fucking mine… mine to claim.” Seokmin had fully lost himself at this point, spewing all the filth he could think of, completely and utterly enthralled by your sweet raw cunt sucking him in so deliciously.

“Oh god, Min, need you to cum in me,” you rasped, feeling the coil in your stomach start to wind and tighten as your boyfriend continuously battered against your sweet spot. 

“So fucking desperate. Such a good girl.” That was the moment Seokmin released your throat and lowered his hand to attach his fingers to your clit, rubbing sloppy figure eights into it while his dick continued to stretch you out.

“Faster… faster,” you urged, feeling your body tense at the sudden surge of pleasure shooting through you. 

Seokmin listened to your pleas and sped up his fingers.

“Oh, fuck, right there,” you whined, feeling like you couldn’t hold it anymore. “Gonna cum… gonna cum!”

White briefly flashed before your eyes as you came with a choked gargle of your boyfriend’s name, your cunt clenching around his cock as your body shook violently from the overwhelming sensations. 

Seokmin didn’t stop at that, feeling like he was seconds away from reaching his own high. With your fluttering cunt continuing to hold his dick in a chokehold, and you begging for his cum in his ear, it didn’t take him long to get there. 

With one last well-timed thrust, Seokmin buried himself all the way inside you, letting his own orgasm wash over him as he felt the first spurts of cum coat your inner walls. Both of you groaned in delight at the unfamiliar but arousing feeling of Seokmin’s cum filling you up for the first time. 

Heat bloomed inside you as your boyfriend continued to spill inside you, holding tightly onto you as he rode out the remainder of his climax. 

“Fuck, Min, so much cum,” you whimpered when you felt his seed begin to drip out of your swollen cunt and down your thighs. That’s how much there was. It felt like there was no end to it. 

“Pussy feels so fucking good, can’t stop cumming,” he panted against your neck, moving his hands to rest on the smooth skin of your stomach.

You smirked, tightening your walls momentarily to pull a little whine from your boyfriend.

“Well, let’s say that I’m not complaining.”

Only when Seokmin’s cock had fully softened and there really was no more cum to give, he reluctantly pulled out of you, not being able to stop himself from gawking at the big globs of cum dripping out of your pussy with his cock no longer holding it in. 

“Min?”

”Huh?” 

Despite your extremely wobbly legs, you managed to turn around and threw yourself at the man in front of you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stared into his eyes with a cheeky smile on your face. 

“I love you, you know that? You’re a fucking freak!” 

Seokmin’s cheeks began to flush at your exclamation, his eyes quickly averting yours in an attempt to escape your intense gaze. 

“Oh…. uh, that? Well…” he stammered, one of hands coming up to rub at his neck.

“Are you seriously acting all shy on me now when you just fucked my brains out?” You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Well, when you put it like that…” He chuckled, a dopey grin on his face.

“Promise me you’re gonna show this side of you more often.”

Seokmin raised his brows in surprise. “You sure? It wasn’t too much?”

“Fuck no.” You shook your head. “It was definitely some of the best dick you’ve given me.”

“I guess I have no choice then, do I?” He smiled widely.

“Nope. Besides,” You leaned in to kiss him softly before whispering seductively, “if you wanna give me a baby, we better do that many more times, just to be sure.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Then your boyfriend scooped you up without another word, your surprised shriek echoing through the garden as he hurried to rush you inside the house, eager to do it all over again.

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HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS LITTLE SEOK SMUT HEHE! Would be amazing to hear your thoughts on this one 😋 and PLEASE look forward to the next one 👀 I got some good ideas planned for y'all!

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[florencemtrash]

Club Rats and Cigarettes: Part I

Azriel x Modern Reader

Summary: When Azriel stumbles into a new world with his brothers, the last thing he expects to find is a mate. But she has a hell of a way of making a first impression, and Azriel can't help but fall in love with someone who feels familiar in a strange world.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of drug use

Masterlist of Masterlists

Author's note: I had a thought. I wrote it. Here ya go!

Y/n leaned back against the motley wall covered in indie movie and band posters 10-layers deep. Humidity caused the paper to lift away from the brick, curling like steam off coffee before being frozen in place by the next slather of paste. Y/n felt the sharp, glue-soaked edges poke through the mesh of her shirt. 

Looking left and right she saw a few stragglers heading towards the club — three girls huddled in fake-fur coats with freshly-shaved legs trembling in the October air, and a group of college boys dressed in the same jeans, sneakers, and pale collared shirts. They flickered in and out of the darkness as the streetlights hummed with the effort of keeping their failing bulbs alight. A handful of skeletal cars sat beside busted parking meters or half-hidden in the employee parking lots of the closed down street. During the day when the restaurants were open, inoffensive jazz battled it out with the reggaeton blaring from the trendy taco joint at the end of the block, and Kpop dancers pressed themselves against the screens posted by the corn dog restaurant’s windows, neon lights announcing that they were “OPEN!” But right now the neon was just another sad shade of grey. Even the sky’s colors were muted by packed clouds threatening rain. 

Music shook the pavement, but it came up from the sub-basement club deep and muffled. Y/n felt its vibrations pass through the soles of her boots, up her stocking-clad legs, and into her chest where her heart rumbled like a car without a muffler. 

A flash of flame revealed her glitter-coated cheeks and cobalt-blue eyeshadow. The color slipped and slid across her skin still tacky from club sweat until it was a pale wash of blue extending up to her temples and down to her cheekbones. A cloud of smoke covered her soon after as she lit her cigarette between nail-bitten fingers. A fresh coat of black polish glittered like stones, already chipping towards the tips. Menthol crisp bled into her lungs along with a breath of cold air perfumed with car exhaust and day old restaurant grease. She licked her lips and found that she did not mind the taste of lip gloss, mint, and char. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a boy with salt-white hair and shy, bent shoulders slink over to her trying to make himself as small as possible. “Can I bum a cigarette?” He asked, shockingly polite despite the black band t-shirt that read “Anarchy now!” and the careful spikes gelled into his hair and tipped green and black. 

Y/n wordlessly held out her pack and he plucked one out before hesitantly reaching for a second. She held out her lighter next and soon there were two plumes of smoke wafting into the air as music faded in and out with each body that passed through the rusted paint doors. Drunk giggles followed voices hoarse with drink and screaming. Heels clicked down the street, some heavy as a bass drum and others high and piercing like castanets. 

A quick flash of lightning splintered over the sky, followed seconds later by a dull crash like furniture toppling over. 

“One mile,” The boy said, leaning over. He smelled like bleach, aftershave, and surprisingly, cherries. The overly sweet ones that came out of a jar and decorated the tops of ice cream sundaes. 

“What?”

“You can count how far away lightning is from the thunder. Every five seconds between lightning and thunder is one mile.” 

Another flash painted the sky purple followed shortly by crumbled eruptions of noise. 

“That one was close by.” 

Y/n took one last drag before putting out her cigarette on the wall. The paper smoldered and was scarred black, but never burned. “Guess that’s my cue to go back inside then.” 

The boy nodded, smiling and looking her up and down a little too closely. Then his eyes sharpened, red-rimmed and squinting, as he glared into the street beyond her. 

“Do you see that?”  

Y/n twirled around on her heels, staring down the street to where it ended in shadow. It looked… darker than it should, although she couldn’t explain why. Like she stood before the throat of an animal. The darkness seemed to pulse and writhe, muscles clenching down on invisible meat. Then she felt stupid for having listened to him at all. 

“Don’t fuck with me,” she growled, pushing the salt-haired boy aside and slipping back inside the club. 

The music and heady scent of perfumes, cologne, and sweat punched her in the face, and she remembered why she’d chosen to stumble outside to begin with.

She moved in between bodies sparkling like disco balls, stealing body glitter as she went. She felt the tiny particles stick to her skin, tacky with sweat. Someone’s hand brushed against her wrist, but she swatted them off, pressing forward in search of her friends. She didn’t trust them to stay still, not in a place like this, nor did she trust them to check their phones, so she just kept searching the packed dance floor. Raised platforms crowded with plastic couches and spray painted tables hit her at eye level, but none of the platform heels and combat boots looked familiar. She thought a head of red corkscrews might have belonged to Cecelia, but it was only the changing lights reflecting off bleach blond hair. 

She dipped into the corner where a line of scantily clad girls with lanky legs waited for the bathroom. Ducking beneath the overhead speakers helped dull the noise, and if she climbed up two rungs of the barrier surrounding the DJ’s booth like a fighting ring, she could make out more of the crowd. Four stationary spotlights lit up the corners of the club pulsing red, blue, pink, and purple. A man in leopard print briefs was climbing onto one of the poles there, shredding his policeman’s shirt down the center as a woman in a zebra-print coat eagerly shoved a handful of dollar bills into his underwear. A drag king had his hot pink fedora knocked off by a drunk college student stumbling towards the bathrooms with a hand over his mouth. All over there were faint pinpricks of light followed by subtle releases of vape pen air, adding hints of watermelon and strawberry to the air. 

It was because she stood half-hanging off the DJ’s booth that she caught sight of the three men that entered one after another like the mob. Dressed in all black, they were better suited for a funeral than a club, save for one thing… their wings. 

Y/n blinked in confusion. There had been flyers hung up around the library and grocery stores about some anime convention being held in the city, but this place was a little out of the way for hardcore cosplayers. The most severe looking of the three lifted his nose to the air, then stumbled back in shock. As the strobe lights passed over his awe-struck expression, Y/n caught the glint of knives sheathed across his chest and at his side. 

Fuck. She looked up to the booth, but the DJ and the guys in ripped t-shirts bobbing their heads around him didn’t seem to notice. 

“Hey!” She dropped back onto the floor and tapped the shoulder of a barrel-chested man with the word “security” printed over his shirt in all caps. “I think those three guys brought knives in here.” She pointed in their general direction with one chipped, black fingernail. 

“The fuck?!” He gently pushed her aside, shouting something into his earpiece as he shoved his way into the crowd. People took a second to read the sign on his shirt before parting to make way for him. One guy with bright pink hair and studded lips even tried to kiss him on the cheek as he passed. 

Suddenly, this corner of the club didn’t seem so safe anymore. There was a splash of pale light on the floor as a bottle girl in a black leather catsuit slipped out of the kitchens. She swayed her hips back and forth, a bottle of tequila swishing in its frost-rimmed bottle against her hip. She moved up the stairs to the platform where a private bachelor party was going on, heels clicking like beetle wings rubbing together. Y/n slipped into the shadows closer to the kitchens and waited for someone — anyone — to answer the text she’d typed out with shaky fingers. 

Azriel had never heard music like this before. He didn’t even know such a sound could exist. Someone had weaponized the bass tones so it felt like a punch to the gut. A male’s deep voice, grainy and harsh, was indistinguishable from the crashing of cymbals and a strange, high clang that skittered over steady drums like a stone over water. Through layers of sound he could just make out the soft sighs of a female as she tried to tie the chaos together with her voice. 

All around him were sweaty humans decorated in shiny, colorful clothes that sparkled as they spun and jerked about. He stood a head above most, although every so often a male or female in eight-inch heels would pass by at eye level, looking him up and down like he was a meal and they were starving. 

“Hey there handsome.” Someone had found the courage to slink up to Cassian’s side — a male with pupils blown open wide enough to swallow his pale blue irises. There was alcohol on his breath and something else, something sweet and bitter at the same time. The human male smiled, teeth white and straight. Azriel had never seen a human with teeth so perfect. He was handsome — wiry and slim with a flush to his cheeks that accentuated the smattering of freckles across his tan skin. “Did you come here alone?” Rhysand and Azriel’s presence did not seem to deter him. “Did you want to leave here alone?”

Cassian sputtered in surprise. He’d never been propositioned by a male, let alone a human one. 

“I’m-I’m a mated male.” 

The male raised his brow, taking full stock of the skin-tight leathers Cassian wore. He took a deep drag of an oddly shaped pipe that lit up in the dark. “Ok. If that’s what you’re into.” A cloud of smoke spilled from his mouth — the source of the sweet and bitter smell on his lips. His eyes slid over to Rhysand, who only smirked and stuck a hand into his pocket. “And you? It doesn’t look like you’re into the leather stuff.” Then he seemed to reconsider what he’d said, looking between Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel like he’d figured out the final piece of the puzzle. He blinked in surprise, tipped back his head, and laughed. He was still laughing as he turned and walked away into the crowd. 

“What the hell was that?” Cassian asked. Azriel shrugged, shaking his head. 

“It’s a strange place we’ve landed in,” Rhysand remarked, although the comment was unnecessary. “I expect the strangeness touches everything here. Even the people.” He marveled at the scene before him. The only comparable place in Prythian was Rita’s, but even that paled in comparison to the sight before him. 

Rita’s was a pleasure house with music and drinks to spare, but everything here was… more. The music was louder, the smells an assault to the senses, and the lights changed every second and made the dancers flicker in and out of existence. Even the people seemed to have more substance to them, more color. 

Azriel loved it.

He loved the uneven floors that sucked at the bottoms of his shoes, the pulsing lights that made his eyes swim, and the sound blaring in his ears that drowned out all other thoughts. And something in the air smelled crisp and sweet to him, despite all the other competing scents that had Cassian and Rhysand wrinkling their nose in distaste. 

He strained his neck to catch better hold of the scent. His shadows clung to his body like children, hiding in the folds of his leathers. This world was not made for them, and they worried that if they strayed too far they would be left behind. 

Amren had warned them that this world was different, that its magic was different. But she hadn’t been here in thousands upon thousands of years. Who was to say what had changed in her absence and what had stayed the same?

Get in. Find what you need. Get out. Had been Nesta’s command before strumming The Harp. That’s how the three brothers had found themselves at the end of a narrow lane with boxes of metal and brick on either side. The club had been a logical next step — it was the only establishment that still whispered of life in the otherwise dead neighborhood. 

One shadow dared to explore the club, slipping past a broad-shouldered man with a scowling face and sniffing at half-full glasses of liquor with bright umbrellas laying against their salt-coated rims. Then it had caught sight of something that had it scurrying back to its master. 

Mate. The lone shadow hissed into Azriel’s ear. Mate. 

Azriel’s fluttering bird heart dove into his stomach, carrying with it all reason and restraint. There was no possible way… no. No? Right? 

Az? Rhysand steadied his brother as he stumbled back. 

She’s here? Azriel breathed. If it weren’t for his powers, Rhysand would never have heard the soft sigh escape Azriel’s lips as he searched the crowd desperately. Azriel tipped his head back, breathing in the comforting scent that held new meaning. My mate. She’s here.

What?!

Azriel ignored Rhys and dove into the crowd, head swiveling this way and that as he tried to find a familiar face he’d never seen before.

Az! Wait! But his brother was gone, and the crowd closed over the empty space he’d left behind like a healing wound. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Rhysand cursed. 

“Hey man! Where did you get your wings? They’re fucking awesome!” A plump male with cornflower blue hair and matching eyeliner piped up from behind Cassian’s back. Cassian whirled around in anger, feeling the ghost of a finger slide down his spine. No one touched his wings without his say. No one. 

The male startled back in fear. Upon seeing Cassian at his full height, he cowered against the wall, clutching a crinkled red cup against his chest. Cassian blinked in surprise. The male was wearing a black and white dress, the starched apron and collar crisp and clean. 

“Someone call the police. Now!” Someone hissed behind him.

“What seems to be the problem?” Rhysand spoke coolly. At the moment Cassian turned back to Rhysand, the maiden-male scuttled away and upstairs into the cold night. Rhysand examined his fingernails, an action that had the guard’s ruddy face turning white as he saw they were armed to the teeth.

The male’s arms hung loose and ready at his sides like two boulders, fists opening and closing slowly. “You guys need to leave. And before you say anything — I don’t give a shit if those weapons are fake or part of some Halloween costume, you can not bring them here.” 

“What fool would carry fake weapons?” Cassian asked seriously. 

The male’s face lost even more color. “Out. Now.” 

“There’s no need for—” Rhysand’s brows shot towards his hairline, violet eyes flickering up like a cat’s. Cassian, I can’t control him. 

His brother’s eyes widened. What do you mean? 

His mind — I can’t get into it. 

He’s only human!

Clearly.

The male moved forward then to grab at the knife hanging from Cassian’s side and on instinct, Cassian swung. His fist met the corner of the male’s jaw cleanly and he sank like a stone, crumbling to the floor. 

A female with glowing white lips nearby let out a strangled shriek, twisting her ankle as she grabbed her friend and sprinted towards the glowing red exit sign. All around her people began taking notice of the guard’s dark shape on the black floor and the two males that hovered over him, knives sparkling in the ever changing lights. 

I had hoped that the humans would not notice, Cassian explained. More alarmed cries erupted around them. He leaned down, carefully checking the male’s pulse. He was still alive, just knocked out cold. 

The music dimmed and then went out completely leaving an empty hole in the air that blew against the back of Cassian’s neck. Overhead lights turned on shortly after, burning with a fluorescence that had everyone hissing in pain. 

Things looked much better in the dark. In the dark no one noticed the sticky stains littering the floor, or the gum wrappers, and plastic straws, and crushed cups; the dusty strobe lights and haphazard paint jobs that left the walls bubbling with air pockets. They were also less likely to notice the three fae in their midst — 6-foot-everything and looking like they stepped out of the world’s most expensive LARPing tournament. It didn’t help that Cassian was kneeling over the man he just rendered unconscious. 

Confusion led to confused panicking, and then plain panic as people began pushing towards the exits in droves. 

I think they noticed. Rhysand looked over the crowd as they fluttered around him, but try as he might, he couldn’t enter anyone’s minds. Not even one. He didn’t like the oily vulnerability that followed, naked and unnerving. 

Cassian slung the unconscious male over his shoulder before he could be trampled beneath pairs of dusty white sneakers and stripper heels. Then it would seem it’s time for us to leave.

Where are you? Azriel cursed at no god in particular. He didn’t know which of them existed in this realm, if any did at all. 

This way. His shadows whispered, urging him towards the back corner of the club.

A battered door swung open and shut to the rhythms of females in skintight leather carrying chilled bottles in their hands. Thousands of signatures had been scrawled against the door in neon paint, and Azriel watched one of the females sign her name — Ava — in bright orange before kissing the door and slipping inside to grab another bottle. 

Just to the right of the door stood another female in ripped stockings. Bright blue glitter painted her eyes and cheeks. She bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet, playing with a hole in her sleeve as she held a shiny black box up to her ear. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY LEFT?! I’M THE DESIGNATED DRIVER!” She yelled into the box. Her eyes kept shifting over the club. Her lipstick, already blurred from time and dancing, smeared further as she bit her lip. A swipe of her sleeve on her cheek left a faint trail of plum-colored lipstick. She slammed her finger down on the box and for one moment, the glow it let off shot across her eyes. She looked close to tears. 

Azriel froze, feeling a pressure in his chest tighten and then burst apart. He felt her fear — her anger at being abandoned by her so-called friends. It was more overwhelming than the music. If it weren’t for the thin crowd of strangers in front of him blocking his path, he might have dropped to his knees and crawled to her. 

Mate. The bond sang in his chest. Mate. 

Screams broke through the music, high and panicked, and the magic of the moment crashed all around him. The darkness broke, harsh white light colliding with them and rendering the glitters and colors the humans adorned pale and lifeless. But not his mate. She sparkled brighter in the resulting chaos, eyes narrowing in a dare as she caught Azriel staring. She was a prey animal ready to bolt. A worm preparing to turn and reveal its teeth. 

Sharp cracks of plastic on linoleum rattled the ground as leather-clad women sprinted for the kitchen door brandishing empty bottles like weapons. Y/n raced after them. 

The door flapped shut behind her before Azriel had the sense to move his feet and follow, calling out, “Wait! Please!” 

He was doing this very poorly. He knew better than to chase a female like this. Sickness twisted in his stomach as he slammed into metal doors and ran through hallways crowded with glass bottles, aluminum cans, and wrinkly lemons stacked precariously in wooden crates. 

To your right. A shadow whispered in his ear.

Azriel slid to a stop in front of a heavy metal door, its edges frosted over with cold. 

It locks from the outside.

Azriel ripped the door off its hinges and was blasted in the face by a wave of cold. Frigid air curled out of the edges of the room and slithered over the floor like smoke. A young female in a pink tutu yelped in surprise and dove for the corner of the room, hiding behind racks of beer bottles. It wasn’t his mate. 

She was just a frightened female who’d hidden in the fridge, not knowing she was trapping herself in the process. 

“Here.” Azriel said, quickly ripping a coat off the wall hook and tossing it towards her. She reached for it with shaking hands and lips, mumbling out a confused “Thank you?” as Azriel turned and hurried away. The door was no more. She could walk out of the freezer whenever she pleased now. 

Azriel chased after his mate’s scent, stumbling through grey, blank hallways that belonged to the insurance company next door. He strained his ears to hear the tell-tale pounding of her boots, but came up empty. A dull red light told Azriel to “EXIT” as he pushed against a door groaning from rust and disuse. 

He was outside once again, breathing in car exhaust and restaurant refuse.

And something sweet. 

He heard the rush of air a second too late. 

A bottle slammed into the side of his face, cracking and cutting his skin. Tequila washed over the wounds. It burned like a bitch. 

Azriel didn’t let out a groan of pain, but he did stumble, landing on his right knee with a twinge of soreness.

The female — his mate — stared at him in horror as blood began to pool at his temple and drip down the line of his jaw. She held the shattered neck of the bottle in her hands. Her shoes were gone, toes curling against the pavement with cold. 

Gods, she was beautiful. 

Cassian was a blur of movement, knocking the bottle out of her hand and wrapping his arms around her arms. She screamed, squatting down before shooting back up and locking her knees. The top of her head slammed into Cassian’s nose. A brutal, bloody crack had Cassian stumbling back, gripping his nose.

“FUCK!” He swore. 

She whipped around and sprayed a mist in his eyes that had him cursing like a madman and slapping the palms of his hands over his eyes. 

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” 

Rhysand stepped forward and cornered her against the wall. Violet eyes glittered with something bordering fury and amusement. 

“No.” Azriel moved between Rhys and his mate before she could spray him too. “No one touches her.” 

Rhys backed up immediately. This is her?

It’s her. 

He could hear her heartbeat quicker than a rabbit as she flattened herself against the wall, holding her spray out in warning. Cassian moaned in annoyance, wiping the tears that kept leaking out of his eyes.

I do not like the humans in this world. Cassian complained, sniffling. Even his nose burned.

As if Nesta wouldn’t have done this given the chance. Rhysand said. 

…I see your point. Cassian muttered. 

Be careful around this one. 

Because she’s a menace?

Rhysand smirked, flicking dust off the sleeve of his jacket. Because she’s Azriel’s mate.

Cassian straightened. His eyes darted back and forth between Rhysand, the blood dripping from Azriel’s head, and the human female. 

Oh. Cassian thought, suddenly embarrassed. We have… not made a good first impression. 

You think?! Azriel all but growled. 

Her fight or flight response was running out — her energy draining. She could feel it in her leaden limbs and the faint slowing of her heartbeat as the three men kept looking around like they were seeing each other for the first time. 

And they kept looking at her in mixtures of shock, concern, and — surprisingly — affection. 

What sick fuckery is this? She dug her fingernails into the brick, searching for cracks like she might be able to pull out a piece and throw it at them, or find some hidden portal through the wall and back into the safety of the inside. 

Were they going to kidnap her? Was she about to be shoved into a bag and tossed into some dingy trunk? But then why the wings? It was too dark to see them in their entirety, but they looked meticulous and expensive and very memorable — not ideal for kidnapping. Was this a LARPING thing? Were they Satanists? Was that how this worked?

The one in front turned. The one she’d attacked with a bargain bottle of tequila. The blood had stopped flowing and darkened against his tan skin. Hazel eyes, bright and piercing as a copper penny, looked out from a face made of elegant, serious lines. His was not a face that smiled often, beautiful as it was. The burly, rugged one looked like he was made for laughing. Smile lines gently graced his cheeks and temples. But maybe those were scars. He sported many of them, like pale whiskers over his skin. The third was the most put together of the three. Instead of strange, leather armor, he wore a suit of velvet over something stiff and protective that hugged his trim waist and broad shoulders, and his eyes were violet, not hazel. 

The elegant, unsmiling one coughed awkwardly, shifting to hide his wings. Shockingly, they slid closed behind his back, the movement so smooth it looked real. 

“I am…” His voice was a deep, gentle caress. “I am so very sorry. I did not mean to frighten you as I did. Please, forgive me.” He was… alarmingly polite, and his accent was… pleasant, although impossible to place — all soft rolls of the tongue complimented by the rich timbre of his voice. “ Please.” He spoke the last word quietly, urgently. 

Y/n said nothing. Her arm was beginning to get sore from holding out the bottle of pepper spray. Although, it can’t have been that effective if the rugged one was already recovered. Maybe it had expired without her realizing? 

“My name is Azriel,” the man spoke again quickly and gently. Even his name sounded odd. “And this is Cassian—” He pointed to the burly one,“And Rhysand.” The last of the men tilted his head in a mock bow. 

“A pleasure.” The violet-eyed one said. Rhysand’s voice was weighed down with sultry charm. He purred the words more than spoke them. 

“Pleasure,” Cassian copied, gruff but kind. 

Y/n remained silent. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed. The pretty one — Azriel — stepped forward and pulled out a sleek, small blade from the belt about his waist. Y/n was about to spray him in the face when he twisted the blade so that the handle faced her.

“This will do more damage than the little bottle you carry,” he promised. “I hope this will make you more trusting of me. I swear to do you no harm. I’ll even make a bargain, if it would make you trust me long enough to explain.” His wings twitched nervously and Y/n found she couldn’t draw her eyes away from them and how real they looked. 

The three men kept looking at each other furtively. Conversations, complex and unknowable, hide in every twitch of their eyes.

“Speak out loud,” Azriel snarled at them finally. “You’re frightening her.” 

Rhysand smiled apologetically at the female. “We need to leave. Now. You can hear the humans coming as well as I can.” 

Y/n bristled at that, and a detached feeling of horror came over her. “Are you not… are you not human?” 

Cassian gawked at her, speaking his wings out far and wide. “Do the humans of this world have wings?” 

She sputtered to answer, fear giving way to curiosity. Azriel took advantage of that, moving close enough that he slid the blade into her hand. It was a cool, welcome weight against her hot, sweaty skin. Up close she saw he had freckles dotting the high corners of his cheeks and that his hair came alive with dark tendrils of smoke that wafted off his skin like steam. They wrapped around her and she heard their strange whispers in her ears like white noise. 

“We’re not human. We’re not even from this world.” The sirens were only a block away now and Azriel swore beneath his breath. More of those dark tendrils shot out like shadows and dulled the noises of incoming fire trucks, cop cars, and EMTs. “I swear to you that I will explain more, but we must go. Please.” He took hold of her wrist, angling the blade he’d given her right beneath his last rib. 

It was a dramatic declaration — if she wanted to kill him and run away, he would let her. 

Y/n swallowed thickly, her mind thick with fog and the dying embers of adrenaline. “I—I parked a few blocks down that way. I can take us somewhere else.” 

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief and she pulled away from him, taking with her any shred of comfort he’d felt since coming to this world. 

Somehow they managed to walk the quarter of a mile to her car without being stopped once by another living soul. She suspected it had to do with the shadows that now poured off of Azriel’s skin and trailed after her. She could feel them licking at her heels like curious dogs… or blood thirsty wolves. 

She gripped the knife tightly in her hand, stretching her fingers to wrap around the steering wheel as she drove through familiar roads on autopilot. Azriel watched her curiously as she stopped at a red light and clicked her blinker on. 

None of the men looked comfortable squished into her tiny sedan, wings tucked in so tight they cramped. Cassian’s boot was stretched out on the center console, almost reaching the gear shift. Rhysand was hunched over in the back seat, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the headrest in front of him to keep from getting sick. 

“What is this cursed thing?” He grumbled, then promptly shut up when Y/n took them down a local road with craters that had them jolting and jerking for a mile. “This metal box… I do not like it.” 

Azriel and Cassian ignored their brother. Az was too busy paying attention to his mate and politely explaining the complexity of their situation, and Cassian was too busy looking out the window at the houses that passed by. He could hear the unfamiliar hum of electricity like a dragonfly's wings. 

By the time she pulled the sedan down a beaten road to a quiet, homely one-bedroom house, her mind was swimming with words and phrases she could barely string together — Koschei, fae, Illyrians, seers. It was worse than when she’d spent two all-nighters cramming for an exam in college fueled by nothing but Red Bull and desperation. 

Before the keys were even out of the ignition, Rhysand was spilling out of the car and breathing in gasps of clean, woodsy air. Gravel crunched under his feet. Once this road had been paved, but time and weather had broken up the asphalt until only chunky black rocks remained. Green grass, not yet killed off by Autumn frost, grew in uneven tufts up to Y/n’s squat, brown-sided house, skirting around the makeshift garden in the backyard before disappearing into the woods beyond. Neighboring homes inched as close as they could to the main road, half-submerged in golden brown trees that trembled in the wind. 

The porch steps creaked, flexing in the center like backs ready to break, but they’d recently been cleaned and painted over with a fresh coat of white. The front door had been given similar treatment, although it was painted green. A small Autumn wreath hung from a nail. 

Y/n fumbled with the keys, fingers shaking and numb from the cold. 

“Here,” Azriel murmured, gently taking them from her. His shadows could have unlocked the front door in less than a second, but he was in no mood to test his mate’s patience and understanding. The fact that she’d driven them to her home in the dead of night was testament to the uneasy trust she’d placed in them. 

A disgruntled meow greeted them as they filed into the short and narrow entryway. Cassian bumped into the entry dresser with his wings and nearly jumped out of his skin when the dark monstrosity that sat by a ceramic dish full of rings hissed. 

It was the fattest cat Cassian had ever seen. 

Acidic yellow-green eyes narrowed at him, as if sensing his judgment, and the cat’s whiskers twitched along with its pink button nose. 

“Jefferson, be nice.” Y/n reprimanded the cat, scooping up its rotund body into her arms. The cat swatted her shoulder once, then consented to being held. He did not like strangers in his house, even if they were Y/n’s guests. “This is Jefferson.” She looked behind her back to the rest of the house. “And this is my home.” 

She busied herself preparing for her unexpected guests. She scoured the bathroom closet for spare toothbrushes, towels, and lotions, and pulled out the thickest blankets she could find. One person could sleep on the pull out couch, the other two would have to fight for the best spot on the floor. 

Azriel watched her as she moved. It was not a large house — it was barely even a cottage — and it took his shadows a short time to familiarize themselves with your home. 

A lumpy couch, wicker armchair, and coffee table made up the living room, tied together by a retro rug that may have once been white, but was now a respectable beige. Four mismatched chairs huddled around a scratched wooden table near the kitchen, one of which carried a stuffy cushion that held the imprint of Jefferson’s soft body. 

The cat watched them from the kitchen counter with its piercing eyes, and did not seem at all concerned when a stray shadow wound around its tail. 

Pathetic. All of them! Were the cat’s thoughts. Master will not like this.

His eyes did soften when Y/n returned from her bedroom, arms heavy with blankets and sheets and pillows. Azriel quickly relieved her of her burden, promising that they’d spent nights in worse conditions than a heated house with bedding and clean floors. 

She seemed charmed by that and almost smiled. Almost.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry, and the bathroom’s by the front door. I’ve already put some toothbrushes and towels in there if you need them.”

“Thank you,” Azriel said softly, tilting his head in a faint bow. His brothers followed suit before busying themselves laying out blankets and pillows like they’d done this a thousand times before — which they had. 

Y/n nodded curtly and swept a judgmental Jefferson into her arms before disappearing into her room. Azriel heard the lock click into place and the rummaging of drawers as she pulled out an extra can of pepper spray, a pair of scissors, and the three knives she’d taken from the kitchen. She bolted her windows and drew the curtains closed and even stuffed a towel into the space beneath her doors just in case.  

She was meticulous and careful despite her generosity, and Azriel found himself smitten at her resourcefulness. 

Stop thinking about her and go the fuck to sleep, Az. Cassian grumbled. He could feel the longing dripping off of Azriel’s shoulders. She’ll feel more comfortable if she knows we’re asleep. 

How much would you like to bet she kills us in the night? Rhysand asked, and then seemed amused by the prospect of it. 

I’d worry more about the cat. Cassian chuckled. Then he turned over onto his stomach and was out like a light. Centuries spent in war camp barracks and makeshift battlefield tents had taught him to steal sleep wherever and whenever he could. 

Rhysand was quick to follow suit, although centuries as a High Lord had pampered him just a little. 

Azriel stayed awake, waiting to hear your heartbeat and breathing slow to a comfortable pace. But it never happened. Not even as the sunlight trickled in and touched the light-bleached floors. 

[sams-sass]

Remembrance of Things Past

Hi!!

I actually wrote a Dean fic...like what? I hope you enjoy! Special shout out to all my bunker babes for the confidence boost!!

Warnings: Langauge, smut, a wee bit of heartbreak?

Summary: You and Dean find each other again.

_____________________________

The motel door slammed shut behind Dean’s back, loud and heavy. He turned to face you; his eyes were emotionless, and his jaw tightened. 

“So you’re not coming?” He asked you. 

“Please, Dean…I can’t,” You said softly. 

He ran his hand down his face and nodded, looking at the wall before connecting his eyes to yours again. 

“Well, that’s just great, Y/N.” His voice was like venom. 

“Try to understand…I just…I can’t watch…” Your voice betrayed you, breaking as the lump in your throat grew. 

You stepped toward him, taking his leather jacket into your fists as you pressed your body against his. You leaned your forehead against his cheek, inhaling his intoxicating scent. He pushed your hands off him, shaking his head and stepping away. 

“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to fuck with my head.” He spat. 

“It’s too much.” You whispered, crossing your arms over your chest and squeezing yourself. 

“And how the fuck do you think I feel? It’s too much for you? I’m the one who made the deal. I’m the one who's gonna-” Dean stopped, leaning on the small desk in the corner and hanging his head. 

You stepped toward him again, raising your hands to lay on his back. Dean instinctively moved away from you, jolting his body to the side to avoid your touch. You held your hands up for a moment before lowering them again, and this time, Dean let you touch him. Swallowing thickly, you ran your hands over his jacket, trying to calm the situation as best you could. 

“I’m sorry.” You said finally, speaking loud enough to know he would hear you. 

“I would stay for you.” He mumbled. 

At that moment of rare fragility, you knew you had broken down at least one of his walls. The truth was, you didn’t care about him opening up to you. You didn’t need to hear him say how he would stick it out until the end or move heaven and earth to be by your side when the time came. You knew this. You knew he would extend a devotion to you that you weren't giving him, and you hated yourself for it. Your hands slipped under his jacket and the fabric of his shirt. His back was warm as you ran your touch over his freckled skin. A ragged and heavy breath left his lungs. He glanced up at you, making eye contact in the mirror. His body turned to face you, your hands now resting against his bare stomach. Placing his forehead against yours, he closed his eyes. 

“Please stay.” He whispered. 

“I love you…so much. But I can’t watch you die.” You answered, feeling him pull away again. 

Dean took both of your hands into one of his, yanking them from under his shirt but keeping you close to him. He looked deep into your eyes, his sage ones glassy and red. 

“Thanks a lot, kid.” He said, his voice coming from low within his chest. 

He walked away from you, pulled the door open, and stopped in the doorframe. You watched as his shoulders moved with heavy breaths before he turned back around. He crossed the motel room in three giant steps and grabbed your face between his hands. His lips attached themselves to yours before you could even breathe. His kiss was full of passion and fear. You could feel the vulnerability in every swipe of his tongue. He dug his hands into your hair, scratching your scalp with his fingertips. You wrapped yourself around him and clung onto the last thing you would carry of him. Committing every breath, taste, and moan to memory as you let yourself fall into him just one last time. 

Suddenly, he stopped. Leaning his head against yours once again. You both held each other in the silent space momentarily before his broken, husky voice whispered. 

“Don’t forget me.” 

You nodded your head, feeling your chin begin to quiver. He was gone just as fast as he had come back to you. The door slammed on its hinges, and you were utterly alone. 

Two Years Later

The warehouse was void of life as you expertly moved around the halls. You rounded the corner, pulling the gun closer to your chest and breathing. A soft shuffle made your hair stand on edge. Leaning against the wall, you ventured a peak into the next room. A tall man stood with a gun of his own, his brown jacket grazing against his jeans as he crept around toward the back of the room. You held in the gasp that filled your lungs, closing your eyes and mentally cursing yourself. You could run for it. Fly as fast as your feet could take you towards the exit. You could wait him out. Or you could…and before you knew what you were doing, you walked into the room.

“Sam?” You said, disbelief in your voice. 

He whipped his head around, aiming his gun perfectly at you. A look of shock, confusion, and anger crossed his face. 

“Y/N?” He asked, lowering his gun quickly. 

You smiled at him, feeling years worth of memories swarm you in an instant. Your eyes began to fill with water when you heard the cocking of a gun. A cold shiver ran down your spine, your palms suddenly getting clammy. You let out all the air in your lungs. Every fiber of your being told you not to turn around. Don’t look. You held Sam’s eyes with your wide stare for a beat too long. Don’t you dare look. For the love of god, just run away. If you look at him, it’s all over. You turned slowly. 

Dean’s chiseled face sat emotionless, his gun mere inches from your head. You felt your mouth go dry, desperately trying to swallow saliva to keep yourself from coughing. Sage eyes locking with yours for the first time in so long. You almost cried out in joy. Your mouth opened and closed again. Eyes blinking and heart racing, you wrapped your hand around the gun as well, stepping towards him as he lowered it to his side. You were so close to him, his face impassive as he looked down at you. Your chest was just a breath away from his. His body was stiff and unmoving. Slowly, you tilted your head back to look at him better. He glared down at you with hard eyes.  

“Dean.” You said, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. 

“Y/N.” His voice was low and rough. 

You let go of the gun and stepped back, nervously scratching behind your ear. The awkward feeling settled over the three of you thickly. 

“So…you’re also after the ghoul,” Sam said, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah, been trailing it for a few days now,” You said, keeping your eyes on Sam. 

You missed him—sweet and soft, Sammy. You missed how he would gently knock on your door in the morning. You missed his warm scent when he placed his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close after one too many beers. You missed how he always remembered to put precisely 2 and 1/2 teaspoons of sugar into your coffee. While researching, you would look up and swear you saw him sitting on the end of your bed with his nose in a book. You had almost forgotten how tall he was or how his dimpled smile could make you forget about the world momentarily. You missed your friend. 

“Well, we’ll take it from here. Thanks for the interruption.” His voice spoke. Your eyes slowly shifted to Dean. His angular face was stoic and harsh, the sporadic lighting of the warehouse casting shadows on the deep contours of his cheeks and nose. 

To say that you had missed Dean in the same way that you had missed Sam would practically be an insult. It was more than just missing him. It was a deep and guttural longing that had you curled under the covers, unmoving and unfeeling for days after he left. There was no way to decide what you missed most. Was it his warm breath against your back on slow mornings after a hunt? Lips and hands drawing an absent pattern across your sore muscles and tired skin. Was it his long fingers intertwining through yours as the Impala tore down a dirt road, the sunlight bouncing off its black paint? Or perhaps it was how his expressive jade eyes would always find yours first. On every case. Every hunt. Every monster. Those earthy pools of warm waters full of lilypads and speckled flowers holding your gaze, reading your mind, and drowning your sorrows. Or it could be when he smiled with his eyes—saying your name and touching your face with the tips of his fingers? Maybe it was the nights where you gave yourself to him and he you? Minds fold to the intensity of the body's pleasure. Arms and legs wrapped around each other so tight, as if the other person would explode into a thousand pieces at any moment. With hungry lips and a thirsty tongue. Allowing all to be explored. All to be sacrificed and exposed. Although you couldn't pinpoint it, you knew it was when he told you he loved you. When he dropped the act and let himself feel the world. In those moments, he could choose to feel the bad. The ache. The hurt. But he would choose to feel you. To tell you he loved you. The soft words in your ear, his breath playing with your hair gently. His hands circling your wrists, feeling your quickening pulse against his skin. 

“I-” You started, not knowing where you were going with your sentence. 

“You what?” Dean cut you off. “You wanna work this together? Like old times?” He asked, his voice full of anger and hurt. 

“Dean…” Sam tried to calm his brother down. 

“No, Sammy. I want to hear what she has to say after all this time.” Dean's voice shifted to one of controlled arrogance. But you knew him. You knew how much pain he was trying to mask. 

“Look, I know you hate me. To be honest, I hate me too sometimes…I had no idea you were going to be here. Honest.” You said, holding up your hands and stepping back when Dean approached you. 

“Right. So, like I said, we’ll take it from here.” Dean said, pointing his finger between him and Sam. 

Suddenly, you felt angry. You didn't know where it was coming from, but you saw red, and your “calm, cool, and collected” attitude began slipping away. 

“What? No! I was here first. I was the one who found this place by myself, might I add. The only reason I even got distracted was because of Sam’s huge, clunking feet.” You argued. 

Sam tilted his head, letting his face fall into one you had seen so many times before. The bitch face. 

“You know, you could always be a brat when you wanted to,” Dean said, stepping towards you. 

“I recall you liking that, Winchester.” You countered, stepping towards him, too. 

“Funny.” He said, his voice dropping deep within his chest. “I don’t recall much.” 

“Neither do I.” You practically whispered. 

“I thought I told you not to forget.” He said with authority. 

“And I thought you would have learned a long time ago. I don’t always follow your orders.” You retorted. 

In that moment, you saw something pass through his eyes. A memory long forgotten and put away resurfaced. His cheeks flushed slightly. His eyes lowered to your breasts, holding his gaze there for a beat before following the curves of your neck to your mouth. Your lips parted, allowing a small breath to escape. Dean sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth across the plump flesh before it popped back out. Pink and wet. 

“Come on, Sam. I could use the sleep anyway.” And with that, they were gone again. 

Because of your little production with Dean, the ghoul was long gone by the time you found its hideout. You repacked your car and slammed the trunk, throwing out every curse word you knew into the windshield as you drove away. You rolled your window down and let the night air cool your heated flesh. The moonlight couldn't hide the memories that saturated your mind. It was as if double doors opened, and everything you had put behind you came raging into focus. Hearing his thick voice say your name made your time with the Winchesters play out in front of your eyes. You and Sam reading over books at a diner table, plates and cups littering the space. You and Dean counting down before jumping into the swarm of vamps together. Sam’s hair blowing in the passenger seat. Dean’s groggy voice in the morning. Dean holding Sam’s shoulders as he has yet another vision. Dean smiling at you, a smear of blood covering his freckles. Dean clanking his beer against yours. Sam laughing over the jukebox of some dive bar. Dean pulling you close and burying his face into your hair after a particularly long hunt. Sam pushing you behind him as the wendigo approached. Dean slipping his fingers under your shirt, tickling your skin. Dean sneaking into the shower with you when you were trying to keep your relationship a secret. Dean whispering “I love you” for the first time in an empty field under the stars. Dean running his fingers through your hair while a movie played on the T.V. Dean giving your hand a squeeze before charging at a ghost. Dean holding your face in his hands, blood spattered across your skin. Dean pulling you into him in his sleep. Dean stitching up your wounds in the motel room. Dean kissing you in the back of the impala. Dean. Dean. Dean. 

Fuck! You slammed your car into park and charged into your motel room. Your fingers ran through your hair frantically as your heart rate picked up. Your feet paced quickly across the room, heavy breaths pulling in and out of your lungs. Just as you were about to collapse, a knock on the door stopped you. You knew it was him. You closed your eyes and swallowed down your anxieties. 

You opened the door to his angry face. 

“How did you find me?”

“I remembered you liked the nicer things.” Dean pointed to the motel sign. 

You nodded, pursing your lips together.  

“Tell me what happened,” Dean instructed. 

“You know what happened.” You said around a sigh. 

“Ya know…I thought I did.” His arrogant voice was back. “But the more I think about it, the more it doesn't make sense,” Dean said, coming close to you. 

“I think you and I have had enough for one night.” You said, trying to close the door. 

Dean’s open palm stopped the door from moving further, “I’ll say when I have had enough.” 

“Dean-” You began to protest again. 

He pushed into the door, crowding your space and entering your room. 

“Come on in.” You mumbled sarcastically. 

“I don’t know what you think you are going to solve by bothering me.” You tried to play annoyed. 

“How about the fact that it came out of fucking nowhere?” Dean said, holding his arms out to his sides. “I mean really. One day you are telling me you love me and that you can’t imagine your life without me, and the next-” Dean stopped himself. 

“I’m breaking your heart.” You filled in the rest. He nodded, holding your gaze as he did. 

“It’s like I said, I couldn’t watch you die.” You responded as emotionless as you could. 

“Bullshit. I gave you an out in Lincoln. I told you to go. I told you to get as far away from me as possible. To live your life and leave me to suffer the consequences of my actions. And you stayed. You said you would never leave me. And not two weeks later…your fucking gone.” He dropped the arrogance, his voice now full of confusion and anguish.  

He was right. That is precisely how it played out. 

“Tell me what happened.” He asked again. 

“I did.” 

“You didn’t,” 

“Dean” 

“Y/N.”

There he goes again. Saying your name with that wicked tongue. 

“Please-” Your voice breaking. 

“So there is more?” Dean asked, stunned. 

“I can’t.” You whispered. 

“You can.” There was no anger now. His shoulders dropped, and his face was left full of despair. 

Dean crossed over to you, took your wrists within his hands, and pinned you against the wall. He looked deeply into your eyes, searching for an answer. 

“Baby, tell me what happened.” He said one last time. 

“It was the angels.” You finally relented. 

“What?” His brow furrowed, and his eyes moved quickly between yours. 

“Well, one angel. Zachariah. He spoke to me.” You felt the tears fill your eyes. “He told me they would save you if I left. They said you would be spared from hell, but I had to leave. I had to get away from you.” You let the truth lay in front of him for the first time. 

“The angels? Why?” He was wide-eyed and horrified. 

“I don’t know. They said that if I left, you would be saved. I was so desperate, Dean. I was so scared you were going to die. I didn’t know what to do. So I left. I left like a coward, and I knew the only way you wouldn't come after me was if I broke you.” You breathed. Although it killed you to tell him, there was a sense of relief finally telling the truth after all this time. 

Dean stared at you, his face difficult to read. You let your eyes fall on his lips, plump and slightly agape. You felt his hands tighten around your wrists, and it shot you back to the last time he held you like this. You could hear the soft rain on the window and smell the coffee going cold on the nightstand. The skin of your neck tickled, remembering his hot breath groaning in your ear. Your fingers could practically feel the cheap comforter, his hands holding them down just like they were now. You bit down on your lip as you remembered the way he pushed into you, slow enough to tease but fast enough to make your legs shake. 

“Why didn't you come back after?” He finally asked, breaking you out of your memory.

“Because they lied to me. You still went to hell. How could I ever face you? How could I ever expect you to look me in the eyes again after I abandoned you? I can barely look at myself. I left you, Dean. I loved you so much. You were the air that I breathed. And I just fucking left. I could never ask you to understand.” You explained, your voice sounded wet from the tears. 

“Y/N…” He spoke, his body pressing into yours harder. 

You inhaled sharply, arching your back and allowing your head to loll back on your shoulders. Dean licked his lips, leaving a wet sheen on them. 

“I don't understand.” He said softly. 

“Understand what?”

“Why would they want you to leave? Why would it matter if you were with me or not?” He asked with a furrowed brow. 

“Because we knew you would never say ‘yes’ to Michael if you were clamored on to some chick.” A voice suddenly spoke. 

You and Dean broke apart, both clenching when startled. A man with balding grey hair stood in a black suit, a smile that made your mouth curl sat on his face. 

“Zachariah,” Dean practically growled. 

“Good to see you, Dean.” 

“Wish I could say the same.” 

“Well, now you know the big secret.” He said, shrugging his shoulders and turning down the corners of his mouth. 

“I always knew you were a son of a bitch, but now you’ve gone too far.” Dean stepped toward him, you could feel the hate in his voice. 

“You lied to me! He died anyway!” You screamed, coming to stand next to Dean. 

“No. No. I never lied. I said we would save him from hell, which we did. You simply heard what you wanted.” He said nonchalantly, as if he was describing what he ate for breakfast.

“That’s called manipulation, dick.” You shot back.

“Oh! Fiesty.” He held up his hand, pretending it was a claw. 

“I am going to say this one time.” Dean started, his arms pushed you slightly behind him as he moved toward Zachariah. “If you ever step foot near her again, I am going to rain down a world of hurt on you that you cant even imagine. You do not come near her again, do you understand me? Whatever you want to do to me is fine, but you leave her alone. All this bullshit, Michael, Lucifer, angels, demons, that’s your shit to clean. Not hers! And since Michael still wants to wear me like a fucking sock puppet, I suggest you listen to me and back the fuck off!” Dean thundered. 

You stared with eide eyes as he got closer and closer to the angel. Your breathing quickened and you nervously swallowed. You sat in a silent panic for his safety. 

“I may not have much in this world. Nothing but left overs from my father and his neverending crusade. But I have her. And I will die before I let you or any other winged bastard breathe near her again.” Dean’s voice was unnerving and low. 

“Jeez, give it a rest. When did we put on lifetime?” Zachariah asked without trying to hide his disdain. 

“Make your jokes, but don’t forget that I specialized in torture.” Dean practically whispered. 

Your heart skipped a beat, what? 

“Well, I do not pretend to know about coitus as I find it repulsive, but I have heard make up is the best!” Zachariah said with a gross mocking tone. 

“Don’t you fucking-” 

Zachariah was gone before Dean could finish his sentence. 

“Shit!” Dean yelled. 

His back was still to you. The air in the room was so thick it felt difficult to breathe. Your skin warmed under the tension. Just as you were about to speak, he turned. His face was hard and determined. You both stared at each other for a moment, trying to read the other person's mind. Dean acted first. He practically flew across the room back to you. His hands dug into your hair harshly, pulling your head back as a shocked moan left your mouth. Your mouth opened to his before he even kissed you. All teeth and tongue. Both relinquishing control and fighting for it at the same time. 

You and Dean had shared many kisses in your relationship: passionate, quick, raw, emotional, fast, and slow. This was different. It felt like an ache. It felt familiar and foreign at the same time. He kissed you like the ocean raged when a storm descended upon the land. His lips were out of rhythm and timing, but they still hit exactly where they needed to be. And like the warmed waters fueling the storm, you found yourself trying to grind your pelvis desperately into his, seeking any friction. 

Keeping one hand on the back of your head, he hooked his other around your thigh, yanking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grabbing onto a fistful of his hair for yourself. He groaned into your mouth, twisting his tongue around yours. 

“I missed you so much.” You mumbled against his lips. 

“You’re the only thing I want.” He answered, pushing your back against the wall. 

His head dipped down. You squeezed your thighs around his waist as his teeth nipped at your neck and breasts. Using his hips and the wall to hold you in place, he undid the buttons of your shirt, opening it before taking your breasts in his hands. His thumbs stroked just above your bra while his mouth continued to suck and nip at your neck. He grabbed onto your hips again, his fingers digging into the globes of your ass. He threw you down on the bed, quickly crawling on top of you and reattaching his lips to yours. You undid the button on his jeans, hearing the sharp hiss as you palmed him through his boxers. He grabbed your hand and pulled it out of his pants, grabbing your other hand and pinning both above your head. His mouth found yours again, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip, pulling on it harshly.

“Don’t move.” He commanded. 

He left your hands above your head as his body lowered down yours. Teasing you by keeping his lips just hovering over your skin. His pointer finger dipped below the waist of your jeans, running it across your belly slowly. Your body was almost squirming as the anticipation built within your core. Your fingers twisted together when he opened the button on your jeans and yanked them down your legs. His mouth moved over your thighs, his hot breath fanning your skin. His teeth playfully pulled on your panties. His tongue teased you through the fabric. You lifted your head to look at him. God, you had missed this. That soft brown hair is just asking to be pulled. Those green eyes rolled back in his head as he decided he couldn't wait anymore, yanking your panties off you and taking you into his mouth. His freckled nose scrunched when he knew he had found a particularly good spot. And, of course, that mouth. Those lips and tongue, tasting every part of you. Dean ravaged you. Hooking your legs over his shoulders and lapping at your entrance, sucking and licking your clit. His breath was heavy, and his eyes closed. You were sure no one could paint a more beautiful image than Dean Winchester between your legs. 

Your first orgasm came quickly, taking both of you by surprise. Dean held you down with one forearm across your hips as he continued. Your hands were wrung together. You wanted to touch him so badly. Your body rapidly built up another orgasm. Dean kept you on the edge for this one, extending the pleasure but building the tension. By the time he let you tumble, you were covered in sweat and practically begging him. You couldn’t stand it anymore, and your hands flew to his head, yanking on his hair as your orgasm released throughout your body. He held you through it, moaning around your cries of pleasure. 

He came back to you, face to face. “I’ll let you have that one.” He said with a crooked smile. 

The tone shifted then, and a new reality settled over the two of you. Dean’s eyes softened to your favorite shade of them, the green grass of the first cold morning in fall. Fresh dew lay in a wet blanket over young blades, their mossy color diffused by clouds against the low-hanging sun. 

“You know I never stopped loving you, right?” You asked, running your fingers over his arm. 

“I do now.” He answered, pushing your hair away from your forehead to kiss your hairline. 

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you. When you were gone, no matter how hard I tried to deny it or how much I shoved it down, it was always there. You were always my girl.” His voice was thick with need and emotion. 

From that moment on, the night felt different. It was more than a reunion. It was more than hashing out old times. It was a vow. You both knew that marriage was not exactly in the cards for hunters, but this night was as close as the two of you would ever come. Words that should have been exchanged in a ceremony were written on each other's naked flesh with wet tongues and eager lips. Names that should have been signed on a document were inked onto each of your hearts through the whispered pleasure filling the air. And oaths that should have been pledged for all to hear were found in the dilating pupils of your locked eyes. 

Slow and passionate kisses turned heavy and deep as you recommitted yourselves to each other and your relationship. Dean's hands touched every part of you, dipping into all your crevices, tracing every scar and freckle. You tasted him, feeling the thick drag of him through your mouth, holding onto his deep groans of ecstasy. He pushed into you, spreading your legs with his before looking you in the eye as he filled you completely. His perfect rhythm brought you to your peak, grasping at his back and shoulders. You found yourself on top, rolling your hips over his, watching his teeth bite into his tongue to keep himself from crying out. His eyes open, showing his blown-out pupils, all traces of morning dew gone. Dean’s hands pressed into your hips so hard, moving you with him as he neared his own peak. Face to face, his fingers dragging down your back, you both fell together. 

Tangled in limbs and sheets, you let your beating heart slow to an average pace. Dean dreamily traced a pattern over your arm, occasionally kissing your forehead as dawn began to break. You didn’t say it and he didn’t ask, but you were never leaving his side again. Finally feeling safe in the arms of the man you loved, you let your eyes drift closed for a moment. You heard his breathing become slow and even, knowing he was also falling asleep. You smiled, healing yourself in the light of a new day before closing your eyes and sailing into a restful sleep.

Tagging: @thinkinghardhardlythinking @watermelonlipstick

[eshieslovemaze]

𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 | kth

summary: you only wanted to get wasted at a club after getting dumped, but ended up fucking a total stranger.

𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉.

pairing: taehyung × fem!reader

genre: smut, one night stand, one shot, fluff but tiny

rating: 18+

word count: 4k

warnings/includes: smut, drinking, lots of kissing and making out, boob play, fingering, penetrative sex (protected), and that's all, i guess..?

note: hi! first ever post here, so kinda nervous. added to that, it's literally the first smut i wrote, so i am sorry if it's cringey. also, english is not my first language, so please ignore my mistakes. hope you guys like it! ^^

🎀🥂✨️

it takes you a lot to accept that you got dumped in your first ever relationship attempt. not like you were attached to the guy, but it is disheartening and embarrassing. needless to mention, it is also a direct attack on your ego. whatever, it happened, and you should move on from the incident.

and that is how you found yourself in front of one of the popular clubs of the city. it has been a while since you last visited a club, and whatever incident happened today is the perfect excuse for you to be here.

for the first time in a while, you dolled up like you never had before. also chose the dress which you never thought would actually wear - a beige, spaghetti strap, satin short dress, which hugged all the right places. you also did some makeup and decided to leave your hair open for the night. you decide to check your face in the front camera of your phone before getting in. quite obviously, you look gorgeous.

not wanting to tire your feet anymore with those long, white heels, you finally walk into the club after adjusting your dress.

the pink, purple, and blue lights reflect every spot your eyes could see, and the smell of freshly brewed alcoholic cocktails hits your nose. you see a crowd swaying themselves to the beats of the pop song that is playing in the club, excited groans and drunk bodies grinding on each other, as if the people turned blind eye to whatever that was happening except themselves and are completely chained to the rhythm.

the major part of the people inside are seated in the tables, and some are in the private booths; waiters and waitresses scurrying everywhere to meet their demands.

sighing, you make your way to the bar, and sit on one of the tall stools, immediately ordering a vodka. the bartender gets it with a sweet smile, serving it while showing some of his tricks. you get the drink after muttering a 'thank you' to him with a polite smile. you finally take a sip, feeling the liquid rush down your throat with a slight burning sensation. you let your eyes stare into the void, swirling the glass of vodka in your hand and occasionally taking a glance or two at your surroundings. your eyes catch a couple making out at a corner. you sigh, feeling down yet again.

you feel lonely. in this city, in this club, at your workplace, and even at home. most would say that it's normal, and it takes time for one to get habituated in the city they just moved in. while that is true, you couldn't help but feel loneliness crippling your insides more as the days go by.

shaking your head, you decide to not think about it anymore and just get wasted for the night. you chunk the rest of the vodka in one go and order another shot right away. this week was probably the shittiest of your career. of course, you deserve to enjoy and spoil yourself this weekend with no sappy thoughts. you grab the second shot of vodka and make your way to the dance floor after gulping it down in a few sips.

you sway your hips to the beats, already feeling several eyes on you, on the parts where the dress hugs your body tightly. maybe it was the vodka, but you're really enjoying the attention you are getting.

you know you're doing great when several heads turn to look at you.

taking that as a boost to your confidence, you move myself with the rhythm, running your hands through your throat, chest, and stomach to enhance your performance. you feel someone sneak up to your back and circle his arms around your waist, but mindful that he isn't touching you too much to make you uncomfortable. you turn to face the man, and to say you are shocked would be an understatement.

he has to be Aphrodite's son to be this handsome and breathtaking. you take your sweet time studying his face, slowing your movements to do so. his sharp eyes - one monolid and the other doublelid - seem to be staring right at your soul. his nose was high and slender, skin flawless. he has got wide lips with the perfect cupid's bow to ever exist, and you had to control every bit of yourself to not pull him in and kiss those. he sported a black see-through shirt with white abstract designs all over, pairing it with simple, black jeans; which was tight enough to highlight his muscular thighs.

it feels mesmerising. the way he towers over you and looks right in your eyes made you feel too naked under him. you try to get a hold of your mind, trying to push the gush of unholy thoughts away as he is a total stranger to you. his movements are now slowing, matching the beats of the song slowing down as it nears to the end.

"done checking me out?" his voice, naturally baritone and husky, sends shivers down your spine. it fuelled the growing sensuality inside you, which lit the moment you saw him. flushing quite a bit, you chuckle breathily before giving him a reply.

"i can ask you the same," you say. yes, you can notice the way his eyes move practically all over you, lingering longer at those places. while his hands around you itch to hold you closer. even now, it feels like he is resisting the urge to press you to himself and feel you up.

the song ceases, and the speakers are quiet for a while. you two take this moment to scurry yourselves through the crowd to the bar. you both sit down on the stools and look at each other deeply. your gazes are dark, and words are not necessary to understand what you both want.

"kim taehyung," he speaks, extending his right hand for you to shake. he now has a very alluring smile on his velvety lips, openly checking you out under the comparatively brighter lights of the bar. you take his hand and introduce yourself, using your tipsy and sultry voice, letting your eyes do talking for the desires that arose.

you have the hots for each other, and you both know it.

he smirks, seemingly getting your point. "wanna have a talk over some soju?"

"i don't see why not", you reply as he unclasps your palm and casually places his on your knee. that little ounce of hesitation flies away when he sees you being fine with it. he chuckles as he sees the tint of blush on your cheeks deepen, turning to the bartender to get your drinks.

sipping on the soju, you talk and also flirt quite obviously, his hand never leaving your knee, thumb even making little circles over the skin from time to time. by this time, you were both quite tipsy but not drunk enough to be out of your senses.

"would you like to get out of here?" he finally suggests, making your heart do several somersaults with his low, husky voice. his eyes are now anthracite dark, as if hypnotising you to get drowned in them.

"surely, it's quite cramped in here now," your reply made him smirk instantly.

he gets up and extends his hand for you to take, which you gladly do, and guides you to the stairs leading to the rooms on the next floor.

just as you reach the dimly lit corner of the staircase, he pushes you to the wall, caging you between his arms. you feel your heartbeat pick-up since he leans his face to yours, lips almost brushing. from this closeup, you notice all the tiny details of his face, the mole under his eye, the one on his cheek, one right above his nostril, and lastly, the one on his lips.

somehow, the mole makes his lips look more kissable than they already are.

not having the strength to control the pulsating urge any longer, you pull his collar and kiss him hungrily. you feel him smile through your lips, kissing you back with the same desire. when the kiss grows hotter, he bites your lower lip slightly, making you gasp. instantly, he pushes in his tongue, tasting every inch of your mouth.

he pulls away only to drop his head to your neck, placing open-mouthed butterfly kisses all over on your shoulders and collarbones. you couldn't help but pant and slightly moan with how he is making you feel. your heart is on fire, butterflies in the stomach, and you start to feel very light-headed from the excitement.

he licks a spot under your ear before hurriedly latching his mouth on the spot, sucking it like his life depended on it. you throw your head backwards with a gasp, completely leaning on the wall for support as your legs are already so wobbly. your hands automatically snake to his nape, fingers clutching the roots of his hair. he lets out a groan, and you shudder when the warm breath hits your skin.

he moves one of his hands to grip your waist, his thumb circling the skin from above the fabric of the dress. his other hand holds your jaw, angling it in a way that would provide him the perfect spot for his lips to do their job on your neck, throat, and collarbones. you already feel too addicted to his lips; he read well how well your body reacts to him, and he was enjoying every bit of it. suddenly, having the urge to kiss his petal-like lips, you softly hold his face and make him face you, moulding your lips with his in a passionate kiss. his grip on your waist becomes tighter, deepening the kiss even more.

you two pull away after a few moments, trying to stabilize your ragged breaths when he picks you up in bridal style and enters the nearest room. he puts you down, presses your back against the now locked door, and continues leaving love bites on your collarbones. sinful sounds erupt from your throat, and you lost all your self-control as your fingers begin to unbutton his shirt hurriedly. he groans, feeling your fingers on his skin, and you feel even more excited to understand that you make him feel this good.

the next few moments are a blur, your clothes messily lying on the floor in a pile and both of you naked, skin-to-skin on the bed, having the most intense make-out session of your lives. by now, most of the skin on your neck, throat, collarbones, and chest are filled with the reddish-purple marks of his hickeys. you also keep leaving a fair number of love-bites on his shoulders.

his kisses get lower, finally attending to one of your breasts. his mouth do wonders there, lightly tugging and sucking the nipple while his fingers kneaded the other one. you whimper, desperately moaning, wanting to feel more of his touch, more of him.

your fingers occupy themselves by nestling into the roots of his hair and tugging on the locks, making him grunt. he looks up to see your face, and fuck, you're beautiful.

he felt himself twitch, too needy to be one with you. however, he decided to stretch the foreplay longer, wanting to see how long you both could go on.

he pinched your bud, wet with his saliva. you roll your eyes to the back of your head with pleasure, moaning like you never had before. he is extremely good at what he is doing. you inhale sharply when he licked the middle of your bosom and immediately goes to the unattended boob, mercilessly sucking and leaving marks on the soft flesh.

your breaths were becoming shorter, and you could feel the wetness between your thighs grow, impatiently pressing them together to get some sort of friction.

taehyung notices and looks up to your eyes, smirking.

"shall we move on with the next part, princess? do you feel ready?"

he comes back to your neck, burying his face in its crook as he speaks, and he can feel your skin shiver when his hot breath hits it.

you nodded, eyes closed and chest heaving.

"words, princess."

you never knew getting immensely turned on by just words was possible, until tonight.

"mhm, y-yes."

you hear his husky chuckle, which is something you have heard countless times since the last few hours, and yet feel your breath hitch. you look up to his eyes when she feel the weight on your neck evaporate, only to see him smirk a bit as he throws his body weight to his right side.

"spread your legs for me, princess."

it is as if you are charmed by his dark, lusty eyes since you spread your legs instantly.

trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach due to the pet-name, you focus on his large veiny hands as they pull apart her thighs wider, exposing you bare for himself.

"now, just lay back and relax, princess."

saying so he starts rubbing his thumb over your clit, in an agonisingly slow pace, yet you have to bite back a moan.

his eyes move back and forth, from your wet folds and your face, not wanting to miss any expression you make for him.

"already this wet for me, huh?"

"who w-wouldn't be?"

an amused chuckle vibrates from his throat, enjoying what you just uttered.

"you turn me on so bad darling", he says with mischief dripping from his voice, holding that steamy eye contact.

"you do the same to me," you say in a breath, not trying to stutter more and just drown in the pool of euphoria he is giving you.

his index finger now begins making a line to the wet slit, finally stopping at your entrance. ever so slowly and teasingly he pushed his finger in, your back arching against the mattress due to the feeling.

"fuck, you are so beautiful", he says, unaware of the butterflies he just erupted in your stomach.

heart drumming in your ears, you loudly moan as he fingers faster, rhythmically moving his finger in and out as he adds another of his long fingers in, stretching your lower lips wider, now dripping wet from arousal slick. he began pushing his fingers into you even more, exploring most of your inner walls. he slightly curls one finger while moving the another one slightly, discovering a new spot. you suddenly writhe, becoming a moaning mess. one of your hands holds onto his bicep that supports his body, and the other fists the sheets like your life depends on it. he stimulates that spot even more, adding another finger into your folds swiftly. almost immediately, you start to feel a knot that begins forming in the pit of your lower abdomen.

"taehyung, i t-think i-i'm close," you already feel lightheaded from what is yet to come.

"oh, princess, you shouldn't be," saying so, he pulls out his fingers, very wet from your juices. you miss the feeling of his fingers inside you and shamelessly want to feel more of him.

"fuck," you curse loudly, choking on your own breath when he licks your juices clean from his fingers, sensually putting them in his mouth, eyes looking into your soul.

he lowers to your lips to press a searing kiss, making you taste yourself in it; hovering above you by the support of his hands beside your head as both groan into the kiss. you unhesitatingly buckle your hips towards his bare groin, not being able to contain your excitement when his hardened tip brushes against your stimulated clit. you shudder, feeling it press on your sensitive spots down there.

"i'll get the condom," he informs you before moving to the edge of the bed, hand finding his wallet from his discarded clothing. he pulls out the silver packaging, casually throwing his wallet over the pile of clothes after. he comes back to you, eyeing your naked form as you take his sizzling presence in. he is not too muscular but has a lean and strong looking physique, which makes him desirable in so many ways. he is undeniably handsome, attractive, and everything a woman would want her ideal man to be. his honey skin shone from the thin layer of sweat under the dim lights, making the sexiness in his aura increase, if it was even possible; by now you honestly wondered where he has been until tonight.

you are pulled away from your trace of thoughts about the person before you when he rips the silver packaging open with his teeth, with a squeaky noise. you watch him pumping his already hardened dick a few times before slipping it in the condom, precum dripping from the head as it twitches while he covers it. you do not fail to notice how prominent the excited veins look, making it appear thicker and longer than it already is. your breath quickens with the visual, veins full of adrenaline, as he brings himself back to you.

He lifts himself up on his knees, biceps bulging as he hoists your legs above his shoulders in prompt movements, strong palms on your lower thighs to hold you in position.

aligning his dick with your entrance, he pushes his tip into your folds, groaning in the process as you breaks into a loud moaning mess for the nth time the night. your drenched folds welcomes his girth as he slides in halfway.

"aghh, taehyung!"

"right, princess, scream my name."

he just loved  how vocal you are. his calculative eyes read every movement and every body language of yours with ease, satisfied for both giving and having a good time.

as the two of you breathe heavily, he gives you some moments to adjust to his size. even though he did a wonderful job at stretching you during the foreplay, you are still tight, and it is good; it felt good.

he tries to go as deep as possible, actions sending you over to the edge. he rests for a few seconds when he found your deepest spot, and drags his dick back to the tip only to slam it back again, in a pace you had never imagined of ever before, your pelvises pressing together.

the room seems to fog up with the smell of sex and sweat, also filling up with the unholy sounds released with every breath they exhale.

it was oddly exhilarating.

neither of them thought that they would get laid tonight, but they don't regret it at all. it's their best night of their lives.

the hands that supported your lower body as he is ramming into your insides, now start to itch, to touch more of those places of your curves; the places he couldn't seem to get enough of.

he squeezes the arch of your waist and then dips his head to place more hickeys on your collarbones. he gladly admits that he is addicted to them, to the high feeling that comes when he sees his marks blooming in dark shades on your skin.

he slows his pace a little, focusing on the skin of your collarbones for the time being. you mewl, your fingers almost digging into his shoulders to anchor yourself. he goes above to lick a stripe on your jaw.

he keeps going slow, hitting the spot he found the most enigmatic response on, while you tighten your grip on him, running your fingers through his glistening skin.

he then uses a thumb to fondle with her clit, teasing the sensitive bud as he increases the pace with every thrust.

"i t-think i'm gonna c-cum," you stumble on your words through the overstimulation.

he only replies to you with a breathy chuckle, a little nod, and by thrusting harder.

the knot in the pit of your stomach finally comes undone, your orgasm rippling out in waves as you break out into a loud, shaky moan. he keeps slamming into you through it, chasing his own orgasm as his seed fills the condom. he groans, pulling out himself out of you and pausing for a moment to catch his breath.

he takes the condom out, makes a knot by the opening, and disposes it off in the trashcan before dropping on the bed right beside you.

you both pant heavily for a few moments. he then gets up, drinks some water from the bottle on the nightstand and also helps you drink from the bottle, supporting your shoulders.

"we should get cleaned up," he speaks, baritone voice soft, a total opposite of the voice from before.

"too tired, just wanna sleep," you mumble, eyes drooping, and he almost cooes. he places a peck on your forehead smilingly, deciding to let it go as he lies on the sheets next to you. just as he covered both of them with the duvet, you snuggle into his side and hug his arm in a cuddling position.

he feels the warmth that bubbled in his heart with your action and brings an arm around your back, now both facing each other and cuddling into each other.

tired from the prior activities, you drifted to sleep almost immediately, finding comfort in each others' arms.

you stirr awake when it seemed like it has been a few hours into the morning already. the faint sunrays that filtered through the curtains were the only source of light in the room.

feeling the hand encircled around your bare waist, the chest pressed against your back and the breaths on your neck, you remembered all that happened last night.

now that the alcohol and hormones wore off, you felt incredibly shy and attempted to curl to yourself from the giddy feeling of having a good sex the night before. you aren't at all horrified. you both knew that you wanted it.

sensing your movements, he wakes. e pulls you closer to him and buries his face on the crook of your neck, breathing my scent.

he's making you feel things.

"good morning, princess. had a nice sleep?" his morning voice is dangerously husky and very pleasing to listen to first thing in the morning, making your breath hitch.

"i did, you?" you ask, still not facing him, timid to show him the blushed up face.

"best I've ever slept in a while, since i had you to hold on to."

not being able to hold yourself, you turned around and placed an innocent peck on his lips. but what he does next shocks you, in a good way, though.

lightly snaking his fingers around your nape, he pulls you forward and kisses you softly, your lips stretching in a grin as you feel him smile through it.

when you part and face each other, he holds eye contact for a bit before speaking.

"we should get going, i think it's around nine already," he gets up, pulling you up as he did. you rummage through the pile of clothes for your phone, and indeed, it was five minutes to nine.

you suddenly remember that you were still naked, the thought making heat rush to your cheeks.

"we should get dressed," i shyly speak, fingers playing with the duvet.

"why? is all the boldness from last night gone now?" he smirks.

you lightly hit his arm, "shut up," but he only laughs.

by the time you get washed up and dressed, it got awkward all of a sudden.

'does it end here?'

'will we be just acquaintances who fucked one night now?'

'will it be okay to start from here?'

'is it weird to want to be close just after a night of casual fucking?'

these were your thoughts. you yearned for more, but did not know how to address it.

"uhm taehyung, would you be free for lunch later?" you are the first one to initiate, hoping with everything that he doesn't deny, and you don't end up embarrassing yourself.

"sure, put your number in, i'd pick you up," he says with his wide boxy grin, handing his phone to you, his eyes showing how much he appreciates you for bringing it up.

"of course."

— copyright: © @eshieslovemaze 0924.

[iidgm]

a little something i wrote at 1 am

word count: 1065

—

You sighed heavily, your limbs giving out under you without prior warning.

These chases are exhausting you, and you have no idea for how much longer you’ll be able to keep up with these toys without dying in the process.

Not like you stayed dead, anyways.

Strange voices in your mind ordering you to get up, and somehow waking up moments before your death… You’ve learned to not question it. At least not for now.

You check your surroundings carefully, trying your best to keep your heavy breathing as silent as possible as to not attract any more toys.

Dried pool, giant rubber ducks…

Ominous looking cell doors.

Ah shit, those are the only way forward, aren’t they?

You groan as you lift yourself up with your fists, your GrabPack feeling more like a hindrance than a helping tool at the moment. Damn designers.

You drag your heavy legs towards the cell doors, dread creeping up your spine.

Why are there CELLS on the POOL?!

You enter a dimly candle-lit corridor with a huge hole in a corner. You decide to not approach it, instead you keep going forward.

The putrid, rotting flesh and gore assaults your senses. The smell being unbearable, the sounds it made against your shoes as you walked disgusted you and the dried remains visible made your stomach churn.

But the only way is forward.

You look into the each cell individually, searching for something to help you open the doors at the end of the corridor—

“You… You’re Poppy’s Angel. Come to save us!”

You jump at the sudden deep voice behind you, turning around in panic with flare gun ready to shoot. Then you see it.

See him.

Dogday.

“Nothing left to save, not here…” He continues. “You’re in Catnap’s home, Angel. Their home.”

You try to swallow back the lump in your throat.

Or what’s left of Dogday.

His bottom half is ripped off, only a tight belt acting as a tourniquet preventing his insides to spill out completely. You want to throw up.

“A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry.” He sounds so defeated. “They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin– And eat away at you bit by little bit, fill what feels empty inside themselves.”

Your body moves without your input towards the canine, slowly as to not startle or scare him. Not like anything would achieve that at this point, you think.

“That... thing... CatNap. The Prototype is his God, and this is what he does to heretics.” He moves his arms, secured by shackles to emphasize this. “These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate– and in return, they are fed.”

Your hands slowly move towards Dogday’s face. He doesn’t react.

“We tried to fight it, The Prototype's control.” He takes a deep breath. “I'm... the last of the Smiling Critters.” His voice shakes a little, looking away from you. Your heart breaks further for him.

“I–” You try to start, but he interrupts you.

“Listen to me, you need to get out of this place. You need to live!” He looks at you, his dark voids for eyes locking on your face. His voice cracks again, but he sounds determined. You make up your mind in that second.

“I’m not leaving without you.” You say firmly, before working your way through his shackles as fast as you can. He makes a sound of shock as his arm drops, followed by the other. He falls into your arms, limp and dirty.

“Wh– Angel, I’m a lost cause! You must flee!” He pleads, his hand closing around your forearm with the little strength he has.

“I’m sick and tired of people telling me who I can and cannot save. So strap in, Doggy boy, I’m getting you out of here.” You say with finality, shifting him on your back in a way he can hold himself up somewhat comfortably.

He doesn’t protest any further.

You look around, trying to find a way out of the cellar. The doors you came through somehow closed, so that option is discarded.

“Oh no... OH NO!” You hear Dogday cry out, and you turn your head to see what he’s on about.

Oh shit.

A mass of ruined critters start to crawl their way out of the walls towards you. Before you can react, the floor gives in beneath you, falling through a hole in front of the closed gates.

“Hold on tight!” You warn before running your way through the narrow foam tunnels. Your flare gun manages to scare the little toys that come across your away and gives you a dim light source in the abyssal darkness the Playground was.

You slide down one of the three slides you are offered, and keep running as you can.

And then you see it.

A platform to the surface.

You only have to make a purple hand jump to get there.

The GrabPack was made for only one person, though. Would you be able to make it?

Only one way to find out.

“Be ready!” You shout as you run at full speed, gaining momentum.

'Wait— nononO ANGEL WAIT—' You hear him yell in a panicked tone, but you don't slow down.

With a leap of faith, you press the pressure plate with the purple hand and the world slows down.

For a second, you’re suspended in the air with Dogday’s arms around you firmly, and on the next, you and your companion crash on the platform so hard it knocks the air out of both of you.

You quickly press the button for it to go up before collapsing. Seems like Dogday had let go of you once he saw you’d make it.

You pant in exhaustion, the adrenaline washing off now that you’re somewhat safe. The back of your hand rests on your forehead, your eyes closed to prevent the artificial light from entering your retinas.

You did it.

You hear a deep, husky laugh not far away from you, and you laugh along with him.

You did it!

You managed to save someone!

You two laugh together in a manic manner as the platform lifts you two to the surface level of Playcare.

You’d think what to tell the others once you’re there. For now, you’ll enjoy this short moment of bliss with your new friend.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

hello hello! i saw that your request are open soo here i go i guess? 👀 so - for context - something funny has been happening to me: ever since i got my first barbatos card, which makes him appear as a surprise guest, ive tried to get all the different reactions out of him. however nothing i do actually works?? i ALWAYS!! get the stars or the hearts and i just can’t get him to be upset even a little bit!! not once!! no matter what i do skdhsk SO! may i please request a cute funny drabble where mc tries to be a bit mischievous/prank barbatos a lot of times because they want to get more reactions out of him that isn’t that super polite smile on his face but it sorta? backfires because instead of pissing him off or scaring him or something like that he’s genuinely amused and totally enamored by mc and their behavior? thank you so much in advance <3

Hello!! Im sorry for the delay but I've been in a writer's block lately which is why I don't post as often but as soon as I got an idea for your request I wrote it down and I genuinely like it. Enjoy!

Summary: MC tries to prank Barbatos but instead of being mad or annoyed the demon finds it amusing and endearing.

Contains: Fluff

GN!MC x Barbatos

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

---

A Devilish Attempt

MC peeked around the corner, eyeing the pristine kitchen with gleaming counters and perfectly arranged ingredients. They knew Barbatos would be there any second to check on the afternoon tea preparations. Today, they’d be testing out their newest prank.

The idea was simple: they had swapped his tea leaves with the spicy demon realm “dragon’s tongue” herb. It looked the same, smelled similar… but the taste? A fiery, eye-watering kick that could surprise even the most seasoned demon.

As soon as Barbatos stepped in, MC grinned and slid into place, pretending to “help” near the teapot.

“Oh, hello, MC,” Barbatos greeted, that signature polite smile already in place.

“Hey, Barbatos! Care for a cup of tea?” they asked, barely able to keep from grinning. They expected shock, maybe a flicker of irritation something that wasn’t his unruffled calm.

Barbatos poured himself a cup, and MC watched, their eyes wide as saucers, waiting for his reaction. He took a sip and…

“Oh! Quite an interesting choice, MC,” Barbatos said, barely a blink of surprise in his expression. “A little spice can truly awaken the senses. You have such a… creative taste.”

MC was baffled. “Wait, you actually liked it?”

He smiled that calm, unfazed smile, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Not what I would typically choose, but if you wanted me to try something new, I would happily indulge.”

Undeterred, MC decided they’d have to try something bigger. Over the next few days, they went all out, each plan more elaborate than the last. They swapped out all the sugar in his cakes with salt, set up a harmless spell that made glitter burst out when he opened his recipe book, even snuck in a little toy snake to “surprise” him in the storage room.

Each time, Barbatos barely batted an eye. He’d even chuckle or offer a sincere compliment, like, “How clever you are, MC,” or, “It’s refreshing to have a little unexpected sparkle.”

MC was beside themselves. “How do you keep your cool, Barbatos? I’ve tried everything!”

Barbatos’s eyes softened as he looked at them, amusement sparkling in his gaze. “You’re quite tenacious, MC. I admire that about you.”

MC blinked, feeling their cheeks heat up slightly under his warm gaze.

He leaned in just a little, his voice low. “If it helps, I’ve been thoroughly entertained. The effort you put in to try and surprise me… I find it charming.”

Caught between laughing and blushing, MC finally threw their hands up. “Fine! I give up. You win, Barbatos!”

Barbatos chuckled softly, watching them with a gentle expression. “Thank you for the fun, MC. You’ve made each day a little brighter… and a lot more interesting.”

As he walked away, MC realized they might not have succeeded in flustering him—but in the end, Barbatos had somehow turned the tables on them completely. And maybe… they didn’t mind that one bit.

[nuggetofthesea]

Iris and Animal HRT Part 2

EDIT: Part 1 is Ashe's comic linked below. Sorry for any confusion. I wrote this as a sequel to that comic.

Content Warning: Mentions of Death and heavy themes.

The doc closes the door, his last patient having left again. He looks discouraged as he had to sign off on a bunch more "crossroads" patients. He is tired, and as he closes the door he lets out a long sigh.

"You know… I have a door for a reason." He says before turning around.

A clear distress in his voice. He looks over to the back of the room. There he sees the witch, hat as big ever and looking through her notes. Her name is Iris.

Iris previously visited Dr. Erian in regards to her notes. Warning the doc to not tamper with the spells used for animal HRT.

Iris continues to read the notes. Not looking up at the doc or even giving any form of acknowledgement.

The doc speaks up again, saying "So what, here to threaten me again?"

Iris barely looks up at Dr. Erian. Her expression unchanging. And answers "No."

The calmness in her voice sending chills down the doc's spine. But the lack of acknowledgement and clarity get to the doc. He starts to get angry and shouts at Iris.

"Your friends… They are losing years of their life to your spells! I know as a medical professional you need me to distribute them. But I also have to follow procedure! And you keep threatening me if I don't sign off on this for them!"

The anger rising in his voice as he continues

"Do you even care about the harm this is causing to them!? How many years are being taken away from them? Do you even-"

"OF COURSE I DO!" Iris interrupts. Shouting furiously back at him and scaring the doc into silence.

"How do you think you found my notes in the first place, Doc? I needed you for this. I knew the risks of introducing this system." Iris proceeds to calm down, taking a deep breath as she continues.

"In the case of some of my friends, it literally saved their lives." As she thinks of Sophie's conditions that led to her taking mouse HRT. "And this isn't without hardship. I know it is hard for them. I know it means potentially losing them…" Considering Eris and Sabine's directions.

Iris begins to choke up a bit.

"…But you should have seen how it was before. They weren't happy. They came to us at wits end not feeling like they were where they wanted."

Iris closes the book slamming it on the table next to her.

"They wanted me to do a transformation spell on them. But I couldn't. My transformation spells are superficial at best. Mind stays the same, and is no different from putting on a suit. It doesn't fix the problem. So, I wrote the formula for the tablets."

She looks at the notebook with a sadness on her face.

"But the city deemed that that was a magic induced medicine, so I needed a licensed doctor to distribute them. So left the notes here. With THAT supply of charged crystals."

Iris points to a storage crate filled with glowing gemstones and crystals illuminating a corner of the room, but slightly faded. And losing their charge, slowly.

Iris speaks up again.

"I know it isn't a perfect solution. I know they still suffer so much with trying to adjust, and with JERKS that feel they can look down on them for this choice." As she slams her fist on top of the book. An injury previously unnoticed on her hand. Bruised knuckles, looking like she had punched someone or something on the way over.

A deep breath again as she collects herself and calmly states

"But you should see when they leave this office. Some of them the very idea has them smiling for the first time in a while. First time I've seen a genuine smile from them in a long time.

And besides…"

She begins to visibly calm down as she reassures herself.

"…most stop before the point of cutting down their life. And even the ones that go the full way, the tablets are designed so that as long as they keep up taking care of themselves, once the changes are far enough their health will be peak for the species they've chosen. While there are complications in the transformation process, even if they go all the way and end up with a shorter life span, they'll be able to live that remaining life to the fullest."

Dr. Erian begins to show concern, but has calmed down. Hearing the witch out this whole time, and taking her words to heart.

"So why then are you here now? I haven't experimented with the quick versions, and haven't gone against your notes."

"Though I do wish people would stop breaking into my office" He grumbles under his breath.

Iris points back to the crystals required to charge her spells.

"Those crystals are losing charge. I'm here to help resupply. You're going to need it."

Iris begins walking over to the crystals.

"And hey, let's keep this chat between us. I don't want to jeopardize the progress My friends have been making towards their happiness. You understand?" Dr. Erian nods, a little nervously.

Iris holds her book and holds out her hand in front of her. Magic then spreading from her fingers into the crystals below. The crystals react by bursting with light once again.

-Part 2 End-

This is my first piece of writing and it was based on all the Animal HRT. I was seeing others comics on it, but all I can do is write and Ashe said she was stuck on how to continue. This was fun to write as a sequel to Ashe's comic involving Iris. (@iristhedarkwitch comic by @darkmagenugget)

Outside of this, I am probably going to do more transformation, cyberpunk, and fantasy stories. But just wanted to test write something. Feedback is appreciated. Glad to exist. ^-^

[storyteller-28]

OBX Season 4 Thoughts PART ONE

Maybe if I get all my thoughts out I can move on from this show.

One Word: Disappointment

PROFOUND disappointment.

Disappointment in the writers, disappointment in Rudy, disappointment in Madison (though much less than the others), disappointment in Netflix and marketing.

Starting with the writers. Before I start I do want preface a few things I haven’t seen discussed when debriefing the writing of the season that does warrant some grace to the writers. The largest pro of the 10 episode slate over the 22 slate of dramas of old is that the writers and creators really get to map out their entire season from start to finish, they aren’t having to write ENTIRE scripts and story lines from scratch during production. So there is a more seamless arch in 10 episodes and stronger continuity. OBX is also a treasure hunting show with clues that requires this pre planning. The writers have to know how they are getting to the treasure in order to build the season, and to be able to leave bread crumbs for the NEXT season. Foreshadowing is a HUGE plot device for the story telling method of OBX because of this.

But this season felt disjointed. Plot points brought up that lead no wear with no pay off, loose threads left and right. So many but here are the highlights

Genrette curse (Groff killed Larissa and her father but hundreds of years this family had tragic deaths- end family line with Groff killing his own son the last Genrette ending the line. And giving JJ who already thought he was cursed an ACTUAL family curse and it WINS!!!)

Groff being JJ’s dad in general

The camera pan in to JJ taking the ring for no reason

Kie and her parents dynamic. They need space then next they’re all fine?

Cleo is angry and wants revenge but only intermittently until she makes pope kill for her

3 years of John B and Sarah having complex and traumatic fathers - finally have the time to address trauma but let’s make them parents instead

WHEEZIE

Now that we’ve been given a little more context to the situation, Rudy telling them during the strike after production started/ stopped he wasn’t returning. Requesting toned down scenes etc. I truly wish we could see the version of season 4 the writers originally wrote. What their original plan for season 4,5,6 was because when season 3 aired they described the next 3 as another trilogy.

Once Rudy told them he wasn’t renewing his contract all that went out the window. We know they shot a lot of the original hoping he would change his mind. We know that they are telling us this was the plan from the beginning (more on that later) but due to the disjointed nature of the writing and show it is CLEAR that was not the case. Having to work in JJ dying completely altered their plan whatever that may have been. I think all of the JJ/ Kie separate and Jiara story lines were sacrificed because of this, like the examples above.

Seeds planted woven into story that they couldn’t fully extract, like the ring scene, or having to remove scenes completely that now lead no where- moving toward a goal post that no longer exists. Which is part of the reason why the season feels so disjointed. With Part 1 shot, in Part 2 they take the approach that to soften the blow of his impending death, they’re going to try to make the audience like JJ less. The result is character assassination.

That is where the empathy I have for the writers ends. They’re backed into a corner in a time crunch but the way they chose to get out of it, and the writing problems they created themselves are egregious.

At the end of season 3 JJ’s come to “nothing to lose”. He lost his father in season 2 when he sailed off on the boat. He’s lost his home, when they returned from the island it’s been foreclosed. And as stated many times before the pogues are his family, he has no possessions or future to lose. Nothing to lose has never referred to each other but of normal life left behind, choosing each other.

But instead of developing off that, what does JJ look like with something to lose? He has Kie now, how does he mature, which is the direction even in press we thought it was going to go. We see him lose all of the progress from season 3 and the arch becomes, how does JJ process know he is what he hates - a kook. He’s following blindly a man who CLEARLY has no care in the world for him. See my other post for more in depth but Groff is no complicated father character like Ward. We don’t see him struggle with fatherly love for his child and greed. At every chance we as an audience see his little regard for JJ. Which is another cheapening of JJ’s death in the end. Most of the JJ we saw in season 4 did not resemble season 1-3. JJ before wouldn’t have trusted Groff so implicitly, not the boy who rebels against authority. JJ season 4 wanted nothing to do with Kie, you’re telling me the guy who was giving pope date advice had never taken her out before? Or who had no concept of personal space keeps 6 inches or chooses the other side of the room away from Kie? They did not honor his character for where they forced him to go this season, they didn’t honor the storyline for abuse victims, they didn’t honor the qualities of JJ we came to know and love, and they didn’t honor him in his ending.

The writers abandoned their characters this season.

Instead of enriching and deepening the relationships to expand the world of OBX that way, they wasted time throwing in dead end characters. People are talking about how Heyward doesn’t know JJ is dead, but have we seen them talk since season 2? Has Heyward show any affection toward him since season 1? They abandoned that relationship.

Kiara’s parents, what a complicated dynamic for a couple. They DO NOT want her to end up with a pogue or to be one, what happened to Mike to make him hate pogues so much he was one. In the beginning Anna had the issue, did she resent being with Mike, the fall from grace and having Kie? But then they portray them as so in love. Is Mike insecure about how he changed Anna’s life? Is that why he hates that Kie is a pogue?

Was the scene at the beach a peek into Kie’s kook year and what the bullying was like? Could have expanded on her history with Ruthie. We’ve glazed over the impact of her kook year and THIS IS WHY she is so loyal to the pogues. Because she’s left them before and knows who she is, what she stands for, and who has her back but this isn’t the nuanced narrative with her parents.

Where is the writing for the women?

Who is Kiara in part 2? She spends all of part 2 just screaming “JJ!!” Kie is loyal, she gave up her whole life so that this time around (1st round was kook year) she is there for the only people that truly love her for who she is. Play on that. They’re limited in options because season 3 set up that JJ is Kies person but if you’re honoring a request to tone down their scenes, you’re slicing through Kie’s character that she wouldn’t have been right there with him.

Next there is no time spent getting to know Cleo, you give her the revenge plotline only to abandon it and have her egg Pope into doing it.

Have we run out of other things for Sarah so she needs to be a pregnant 19 year old on the run after saying she doesn’t want kids yet? The perfect story line for Sarah this season is whilst mourning her father she’s desperate to get ahold of her sister again. Wheezie hates Rose! Sarah knows this, so Wheezie is currently stuck in Guatemala with Rose viciously uprooted from her home and friends, father never comes home, stuck with a step mom she hates all alone in a foreign country taking refuge with NO contact from her siblings? there’s no doubt in my mind Sarah would be doing everything to get her back. Make THIS Sarah’s purpose, not motherhood.

If the writers felt like they had no choice but to kill JJ with Rudy leaving, they did have a choice in how he died. OBX has had a crazy history of injuries with miraculous healings: John B being bit by a gator, Sarah getting shot, JJ jumping off a boat wasted to save a drowning Sarah in a storm, JJ getting a 10 inch gash to the abdomen and almost drowning, JJ’s bike accident slide off an overpass, Pope full body wasp bites, the list goes on. But JJ dies of a 2 inch knife wound within 30 seconds??? Could we not have been more disrespectful? He saves Kie yes, but leaves his back to Groff in such lose proximity, why? And Groff kills him purely out of spite? There were so many other ways to do it if it had to be done.

So the question is where do we go from here? We know next season focuses on Kiara and the theme will be revenge. I don’t have faith in the writers to be able to write out of this creatively and with dignity to the characters. Does the sunshine activist girl, go full dark, paired with Rafe as a partner in crime or worse a relationship, and out for murder? AGAIN abandoning everything we know her to be. How tragic a season to watch her grieve. But if she isn’t devastated and hardened it cheapens their whole relationship, again destroying who we know her to be. What does her happy ending look like? If you pair her with someone else for the last season you continue this trope of passing her between guys and diminishes jiara but did she go through all this to be the 5th wheel? Alone while everyone else gets their happy ending?

We know this wasn’t the original plan. Regardless how often they try to tell us otherwise, it’s disrespectful to the audience that has supported them so long to lie to our faces. They don’t understand it’s making them look worse, because if this truly was the plan to begin with. To put it politely, what an awful journey you have brought us on.

This has become much to long already and I could continue to give thoughts and examples. So here is part 1 - to the writers.

[oceansssblue]

Can I request a Hunter x reader fic where they have a knife throwing contest? (You can choose who wins)

cool request! I'm down!

Decided to do a little flirty thing between a badass female reader and our sexy sargent. Note for everyone that requests me something; if you want speficically a female male or neutral reader do tell me! If not I'll jump to whatever I feel.

Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"A SHARP SMILE"

TBB REQUESTS –HUNTER/F READER 📩💖🔥

WARNINGS: PUBLIC KNIFE THROWING CONTEST, SEXUAL TENSION&SUGESTIVE (BUT NO SMUT), FLEETING MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL AND A SINGLE FLEETING REFERENCE TO PROSTITUTION.

Hunter carefully watched another round of the knife throwing contest develop in front of his eyes. Cid's Salon had been experiencing a drop in it's sales for quite a few weeks now; and after Tech's comment on how announcing special shows or activities could be an adecuate solution to such a problem, the Trandoshan had oficially inaugurated "Friday's Knife night". Tech had pointed out he had been alluding more to a special drink's discount or karaoke night; but Cid had waved an impatient hand at that, and claimed Ord Mantell didn't catter to the same "Coruscant's sweethearts". Hunter could only agree. The idea of the citizens in Ord Mantell singing a ballad was... Something.

The contestants were good for normal everyday people standards. Most of the knifes always ended up properly stuck to the wood board; though only a few of the participants were skilled enough to hit the borders of the –one round human, another round twi'lek, and so on– black siluete. He could tell who tried just for fun and who had had to use knifes before to defend themselves. None were good enough to match Hunter's seasoned abilities, though; which was the reason why he had comformed himself to remain a silent spectator instead of an active participant.

Almost an hour later, Cid announced the last contest of the night. Hunter studied everyone who payed the fee and wrote their names –and identifications– down on the list; wondering if he should just play in this last chance. There was nothing that ruled him out. He could inscribe himself and win the price; Omega could do with a new set of clothes, as she was outgrowing her current one quite fast. Hunter gulped down the leftover of his drink and patted Echo's shoulder; making his way towards the line.

Upon seing him, Cid rolled her eyes.

"Gonna double that bet, Broody?" she tempted him.

Hunter nodded with a shrug.

"That way I might be able to pay the exagerated fee you'll probably request from us next time" he smiled falsely sweetly, signing his name and turning to walk away towards the wood board.

Cid glanced at you waiting patiently on the line and smirked. Oh, was Broody in for a surprise.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You silently studied your competition. You needed to repair your bike and you were confident on winning that price. The bet was higher than the rounds before as well; the first place just had your name written on it. Plus, half of the participants were already embriagated at this point of the night. It wouldn't be too difficult, or so you hoped.

There were some new faces and some regulars. Your mind quickly divided the participants into three groups; real competition, like Raak –a duros you have had the bad luck to fight against with more than once in the past–, complete drunk disasters, and strangers you weren't really sure were to place that could be a potencial surprise. Like the male human clad up with heavy looking armour as if he was ready to jump on on an open battlefield anytime now; your eyes quickly detecting a vibroblade hidding in a compartment on his thigh. The guy certainly cut an intimidating figure; broad shoulders and trained muscles moving under his armour. His long hair –pushed back and away from his tattood face with a red bandanna across his forehead– didn't sweeten his looks; he still looked... A spicy kind of dangerous.

The corner of your lips inevitably tugged upwards. You've always had a nick for this kind of men; men who could ruin you but who you quickly put into place.

Right then and there, his eyes flickered over the room; quickly landing on yours, almost as if he could feel your stare.

You arched an eyebrow in half surprise, half amusement, and half defiance. Well, wasn't he some kind of well trained soldier or mercenary perfectly aware of his surroundings... You almost wished he could make you a run for your money; give the night some exciting real competition.

Your perspective on such a handsome attractive man would forever be tainted if he just made a dissapointing mess of his knife throws. Just in case he didn't, you threw him a quiet side smile.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hunter's eyes couldn't help but bore into the female stranger; watching without missing a beat how the woman carefully picked up a knife from the table of possibilities offered by Cid. She slowly examined the weapon, turning it around in her hand patiently; studying it's shape and weight while ignoring the muttering and impatient calls from the crowd around them.

She seemed to nod to herself and he took in the way she positioned herself in front of the wood board; stance impecable with her body slightly turned to the right side, fingers gripping the shiny end with just the needed amount of strength. With just that and the way she concentrated on the siluete –not her hand–, and how she retracted her right arm back before quickly throwing her knife forward, Hunter already knew she had done an good job. Still, he couldn't help but feel surprised at the precision with which the knife got stuck to the center of the chest markings on the twi'lek black siluete; and how she swiftly and calmly abandoned her stance as if it was nothing.

For the second time that night, the pretty woman catched his eye and arched her eyebrow towards him; as if she were asking him a silent "there, that's my shot. What about yours?".

Hunter's hand confidently grabbed a sturdier knife from the table and got into position. He was... Intrigued, for now; but he'd show her how it was done.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You couldn't help but feel a tingle of excitement and arousal at such a sight. The man –you have discovered his name was Hunter, appropiate for the way he moved and watched– is definitely not a dissapointment of any kind. Round after round, he had matched you outstandingly well; all of his knifes hitting the exact center of the targets, not letting you stand ahead of him for a single point. He glances at you each time he finishes a throw now too; indulging in your little game and warming up the blood in your veins. It has been a while since you felt this attracted to someone; more so with him being a total stranger.

When it's the other participants time to throw –Raak following the two of you closely behind– he casually stops besides you; his eyes never leaving the contest in front of you.

"How' you learnt to throw like that?"

His voice is deep and slightly husky. Oh, this couldn't get any better.

You keep your wits together regardless of your thoughts and reply just as nochalant.

"Life has a strange way of throwing shit at you" you answer, arms crossed in front of your chest, eyes on the board. "I prefer to throw my shit back at her".

He glances down at you, and you can't help but smirk quietly. You know it's vague, but you're not about to spill all your secrets. He'll have to work with that.

"What about you?" You ask back, this time letting your eyes drive up to his dark amber ones. "You gonna tell me you know your way around a knife like that just by being a model Ord Mantell citizen?"

He hums non-comitally, eyes boring into yours. You have to force yourself not to fidget at such intensity. He really is something.

"Thought my outfit gave it a way" he humours you.

It pulls a smile on your face. Yeah, he's not giving away unnecessary information to potencially dangerous strangers either. Well, at least he's smart and has a sense of humour; you'll give him that.

"Last round, handsome" you push your luck and teasingly move your very fingertips along his shoulder and down to his arm. He squints his eyes at you and you grin up to him innocently. "Better not get distracted".

Hunter hums and moves to pick up his last knife.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The man has, once more, impecably hit all of his knifes on each center of the human siluete target. You only have to repeat the same and you'll both split the price; it's not ideal, but you'll have just enough to fix your bike with the savings you've been keeping this past month.

After picking your knife up, you glance at him one last time. Maybe as a way of saying goodbye. If he's a sore looser, or if he simply doesn't want anything else to do with you, this would probably be your last time of enjoying the sight of such a specimen.

You don't expect to see him with his... Daugther, though. It's obvious the way they're related with how the blonde kid looks up at him; chatting up excitedly and the love and admiration she holds for him bright in her wide eyes. He chuckles quietly, slightly bent down towards her, and pats her shoulder affectionately. Behind the girl, three other men have approached the scene too; perhaps equally interested in watching the final wrap up. Perhaps to support Hunter. They're all wearing the same kind of armour; minor alterations, but it's obvious they're a squad of some sort. A family. And they all look at the kid exactly the same way.

You glance at her, and then down at the knife in your hand, a million thoughts speeding through your head. You haven't had the easiest of childhoods. War is all you remember for a big part of your life; your teens spent running away. You had been forced to adapt to the cruel ways of the galaxy very quickly; and with the options being either becoming a prostitute or an assassin, you had made the choice that finished moulding the person you are today. You're not proud; but you're not exactly regretful either. There are a few deaths you always carry in your conscience; but you mostly only accepted the requests you hand-picked yourself, so you've kinda done your part wiping your corner of the galaxy from scum. Not the prettiest of jobs, and certainly not one you would go proudly announcing around; but life's life. You'd like this kid to have an easier one; and by the way her family are head to toes covered in armour, ready to fight ay any given second, you're guessing it hasn't been going exactly that way til this point in time.

You catch Hunter's eyes staring at you. Your heart beats faster inside your chest. Your hand tingles.

You turn towards the target. You calmly position yourself. You take a deep breath; and then, your last knife flies to the target.

Laughs and cheers errupt around you. The blonde kid smiles.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Here you go, Broody" grumbles Cid, reluctantly pushing the pile of credits into Hunter's opened hands.

Hunter smirks.

"Bet all against me, huh?" he asks, inevitably happy.

Cid gives him the side eye.

"Well, my pockets would be full if my girl there didn't succumb to your supposedly good looks" she quotes with her hands, then roles her eyes. "I never quite understood the hype for humans anyway".

The Trandoshan walks away, still muttering a hundred of insults and dissapointed comments. Hunter doesn't feel a tad of guiltyness; Cid might not have won the bet, but she had definitely made good money on Tech's idea. The salon had been to the brim, drinks flowing around constantly. She really can't complain.

Hunter leaves the earned credits with his brothers and then turns to scan the lingering crowd. He quickly finds you talking to another participant near the entrance of the Salon. He excuses himself from his family and walks towards you.

You quickly wrap up your conversation with Raak with a forced smile, and once the Duros has reluctantly walked away, you turn to the approaching figure with a honest one.

"Ah, the man of the night" you chirp, roaming your eyes ever him quickly. "Got all those credits in a safe place?

Hunter glances back at Wrecker.

"Don't think anyone's gonna try to steal from him" he answers in good humour, and you nod in agreement.

You've never seen a human that big.

Hunter studies you quietly for a pair of seconds; then tilts his head.

"I admit the knife in the crotch was a good dramatic ending" he comments, then asks genuinely "Why did you let me win?".

You hum and take a look back at his family.

"Kid's cute. She yours?" You directly ask in return.

Hunter smiles.

"Sister" he explains. "More like an adopted daugther, now, though".

You can see the love he holds for her as well in the way he speaks and his features soften.

"Well, I've done some bad things in the past, but I still got a heart" you explain, trying to sound casual. Vulnerability is not often showed in planets like this. "You probably need those credits more than me".

Hunter is surprised; both by your reasoning and the fact that you're admiting it out loud to him. People aren't usually that honest and... considerate here. Or in the majority of places in the galaxy. This... Doesn't really match the idea of this dangerous –though sexy– woman he has in his head. This suddenly makes you more... human.

"What were you going to do with the price?" He asks, curiously.

You shrug.

"Repair my bike. I can usually do it myself, but I can't seem to find the problem this time".

Hunter hums. He doesn't take his eyes off of you.

"One of my brothers knows his way around mechanics pretty well. Maybe he could take a look at it, no need for extra payment."

That's sweet. You nod and smile up at him.

"I'd appreciate it".

You fill yourself with courage and take a tempting step towards him; right hand gently travelling upwards to rest in his chest plate.

"Now, why don't you follow me home for the night, mm? We can take a look at my bike tomorrow. Whatcha say?".

Hunter's turned on just by the fact you have been the one to ask. He has certainly had his fair number of situationships in the past; but he usually always have to be the one to make the first move. This time, however, he seemed to have catched your eye since the start; and you're decided to see this attraction through. He likes that, a woman that is self-assured and knows what she wants. He's happy it's him for this night.

He exchanges a glance with one of his brother's –the one with the headseat and the scomp– and then makes a polite gesture with his hand. He smirks playfully. You already know you'll be having a good time.

"Lead the way, mesh'la".

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Wohooo! This spicy little one was so much FUN to write! I hope you all liked it as well, specially the user that requested it.

I'll publish a Tech Mermay long oneshot TODAY AS WELL; and the next one planned will be a Wolffe one.

Stay tunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to my main masterlist here:

[partially-controlled-chaos]

When We Were Young

Pairing: Halsin x f!Tav (Tavriel) Rating: G (General) Warnings: None, really. Little bit of smoochin' at the end. Just completely self-indulgent fluff for my own sanity. Summary: Deep in the autumn forest, Halsin and Tavriel share a sweet, if not awkward, moment to themselves. Pre-tattoo, pre-scar, love-lorn 90 year old druid initiate Halsin being completely inexperienced with anything romantic. Word Count: 3.7K A/N: A hurricane knocked out my power for a few days last weekend, so without access to my other WIPs or electronics, I hand wrote a complete self-indulgent fic for young Halsin and my original Tav. Once I started typing it out to post, I fluffed it up a little bit so it ended up being a good bit longer than my original drabble, but shorter than what I normally write. I recently revamped the backstory for my original Tav after seeing young Halsin art from @ozumii-fucking-wizard (thank you for blessing this site with your young Halsin art, it's amazing and for absolutely rotting my brain with young Halsin). I've never been a huge fan of "companions knowing Tav before the events of the game", but I played around with this idea and I've ended up loving it for Tavriel. I have stories previously posted for her that are a complete 180 from what I'm going with now, but I'm very please with the new lore I have for her. Might make a lore sheet or mini fic at some point, but I haven't completely decided. I do have a handful of more small ideas for Halsin and Tavriel so I'll probably sprinkle them in between my normal stuff. Also, hi hello @thoughts-of-bear , it's the fic I'd mentioned like a week ago that I finally posted

Read on AO3 here!

Masterlist

The sun hung low in the sky, casting the surrounding forest in a rich orange glow. Leaves of nearby oak trees turned shades of yellow and red, gently falling from their branches with each gust of wind, swirling in the air before softly landing on the ground. Acorns and pinecones littered the forest floor as autumn approached, sprinkled amongst small patches of mushrooms that grew in shaded spots. Bare feet darted against the ground in rapid succession, barely making a sound before lifting and leaping to the next patch of hard dirt or sun-kissed grass. Tavriel moved quickly through the trees, weaving through towering oaks and over fallen logs with an ethereal grace and swiftness as she sprinted away from the darkened thicket she called home and towards an open field.

She left the area practically untouched as she traversed the land of her home, simply stirring freshly fallen leaves with the wisps of air that that flowed from the ends of her linen robes. With each step she took, she could hear the heavy footsteps of those following her grow fainter, leaving the forest in a gradual silence. As a final obstacle, Tavriel crossed a small stream, gracefully leaping from one wet river stone to another, lifting her robes above her ankles to keep them dry. Cold water soaked her toes as she crossed, sending a chill through her legs until she made contact with land once more. 

Tavriel began to slow, her full blown sprint having tapered off to a slow trot before finally coming to a stop in the middle of a field of golden wheat grass. Her lungs burned from the exertion, chest heaving as she took in sucking breaths of the warm, late afternoon air. An earthy scent filled the area, picked up by the wind as it wove its way through the tall grass and to her nose. A pleasant smile graced her lips, tugging the corners of her mouth towards the sky as her eyelids softly closed and her head tilted back to face the sky. Warm wisps of wind blew through the long, fiery orange tresses that adorned her head, drying the light layer of sweat that had formed against her face from her run. Time had slowed as she took in the serenity of the moment, simply basking in the warmth the sun offered. 

The earth hummed beneath her feet, strong and loud enough to feel in her bones. The soft points of the grass licked at the ends of her fingers as her arms came down beside her, the gentle wind blowing causing the blades to tickle her fingertips. Songs of birds that thrived in the evenings began to sound off in the distance, signaling the end of another day. If she focused hard enough, Tavriel could swear she could hear the hushed voice of the forest calling to her, beckoning her back into the safety the trees and bushes offered. 

A large branch cracked in the distance and her eyes snapped open at the sound, breath hitching in her throat as she focused her hearing. Tavriel felt the muscles of her legs tighten and coil, ready to snap and spring her forward in a quick escape if needed. She silently cursed herself for becoming distracted; a dangerous game to play for someone who was undoubtedly being hunted. Instinct made her want to flee in an instant; to simply dart away and never be seen again. Tavriel wanted hide somewhere deep within the forest, curling in on herself and tucking her limbs close by and hide amongst the brush and foliage until the brightness of her hair was darkened from shadow and her scent was covered by moisture covered foliage. However, pure curiosity made her stay, waiting to see just what was coming from the forest.

Moments later, Halsin stepped from the tree line, taking a brief pause by the streams edge to regain his breath, hunching over slightly to rest his hands atop his knees. He was young and fit, having just celebrated his ninetieth birthday, but after such an extended amount of time swatting away tree limbs and stumbling over bushes, even he needed a break. His bright green eyes were locked on to Tavriel from across the river, who returned his gaze with a twinkle in her eyes and a smirk across her lips. He returned her smile, a cocky look on his face as he used the back of his hand to wipe beads of sweat from his upper lip.

It had been years, decades even, since they had played this game with each other. Running from one another to see who could be caught first before reversing roles, playing for hours at a time until they were both collapsed on the ground next to one another, too exhausted to move. They’d first started playing together as young children, having met by chance on a warm summers day. Being the secluded elf that she was, Tavriel was skittish and wary of strangers, even now, and each time he’d come across her in the woods, she’d dart off before he could make friends. It had taken a great deal of patience on Halsin’s part, and a few fresh honeyed buns he’d snatched white his mother’s back was turned, to finally persuade her to stay for a spell. Once they’d gotten comfortable with each other, Halsin and Tavriel had quickly become the best of friends. They would spend each day together, filling their days with laughter and fun from sunrise to sunset, always eager to see each other again the next morning. 

As they grew older, their usual playtime gradually decreased and instead they spent their spare time simply in each others company as friends and learning the ways of the natural world together. Halsin’s druidic studies often took him away from Tavriel’s realm of wood, which was the thickest and deepest portion of the local forest, and instead placing him with elder druids with a book in his hands. While he enjoyed learning from the other druids and discovering their wonders of nature, he preferred to experience them firsthand with his friend at his side.

Tavriel spent her days roaming the forests she called home, ensuring her safety and solitude all while strengthening her own skills. She was graced with a magical prowess that she had yet to fully understand. She had never been formally taught magic, but learned what she knew mostly from aged tomes that had supposedly been left behind from her unknown mother and pure curiosity. She knew how to heal small wounds and speak with animals like many magic casters, but could also control aspects of nature. With a snap of her fingers she could summon a flame or with a wave of her hand she could call forth a gust of wind. The flow of water could change to her will and, depending on her mood and the season, small flowers would bloom in the wake of her foot prints. She didn’t fully understand the magic she had been born with, but each time she discovered something new was exhilarating. Her talents were not without its dangers. Many of her powers stemmed from her emotions, which opened the door for wither and decay if she was frightened or angry. 

Tavriel was incredibly skilled with a bow, having learned the craft from her father before his passing, and used much of her spare time to fine tune her abilities. Overall she was a pacifist, so she spent most of her target practice on high hanging fruits and billowing leaves, but would occasionally hunt when she required sustenance other than what she could forage. Although she loved her solitude, she admittedly was fond of spending her time with Halsin and frequently missed him when he didn’t come striding into her realm of the woods each morning.

“It’s barely been a week since you’ve been in these woods and you’re already tired?” Tavriel teased from across the river, “The bear must be preparing for hibernation.”

“And the fox should know better than to taunt a bear on the hunt.” Halsin shouted back, straightening has back as he spoke.

Without another word, Halsin lunged forward, quickly crossing the river before sprinting as fast as he could towards the elf. Tavriel took off once again, her feet carrying her just as quickly as before, but not quite fast enough to outrun the young man on her heels. Tavriel held the advantage when deep in a thicket, her stature and almost other worldly sense of nature gave her an advantage over the aspiring young druid. She could tuck herself into the smallest of spaces and weave her way through dense foliage like a gentle breeze, letting her slip away and remain undetected if the needed was ever present. 

Halsin, on the other hand, was certainly at a disadvantage. He was a broad young man, much taller and broader than any of the other elves in his clan, making it much more difficult for him to maneuver his way through a forest when compared to Tavriel. He frequently became snagged on low hanging branches or thorny vines, forcing him to take the time to remove himself from natures sudden embrace before continuing. However, he held the advantage when it came to open land. His long legs allowing him to close long distances easily with little exertion. 

It didn’t take long for him to catch up, closing the distance between them in mere moments, and if he were to reach out, he could almost touch the flowing ends of her hair. Sensing the larger man on her heels, she gathered her strength and pushed on, creating a very small gap between herself and Halsin, although it wouldn’t be enough to insure her freedom. Tavriel made a split second decision to change her path and cut to the side, hoping the tactic would allow her to slip right past druid and back into the tree line not too far away. Unfortunately for Tavriel, it was a trick she’d used many times before to evade Halsin’s grasp and it was one he was anticipating. With her change in direction, she inadvertently stepped closer to the druid, allowing him to simply reach out and grab her.

Halsin’s hands suddenly gripped her sides, squeezing firmly enough to lift her partially into the air mid stride without dropping her, but not enough to bruise her delicate skin. A quick yelp of surprise slipped from Tavriel’s lips before erupting in a flurry of giggles. In an attempt to slow down, Halsin spun slightly, bringing Tavriel with him, but lost his footing in the process. He tumbled backwards, his back hitting the ground as a grunt left his chest. He still held the elf in his hands, who’s back had landed on his chest and she was suddenly staring up at an orange sky.

They paused momentarily where they lay, catching their breath and getting familiar with their sudden change of view. Tavriel saw this as an opportunity to escape by prying Halsin’s grasp from her waist and rolling her body off him and onto the dirt below. She found her footing beneath her as her hands dug into the dirt, ready to launch herself forward. Before she was able to start another mad sprint towards the tree line, she felt a set of large hands grab at her waist once more, pulling her back to the ground. With a triumphant smile and quick movements, Halsin pinned Tavriel into the dirt by her hips after pushing her onto her back. He rested the weight of his large frame atop her much smaller one, effectively trapping her for good.

“That’s cheating.” Tavriel managed to say between fits of laughter, smacking Halsin’s bicep with a playful hit.

“Had you not stopped,” Halsin panted as he came down to rest on his forearms, caging the young woman beneath him, “you might have slipped away, dearest fox.”

“Can you blame me?” She asked breathlessly, “It’s only natural to stop and take in something so beautiful.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Halsin said softly, bringing his fingers over to tuck a wayward piece of orange hair behind her ear. He brushed her freckled cheek with the back of his fingers, marveling at just how soft her skin was, considering she lived in nature and forewent any sense of shelter from a structure not built from a canopy of leaves. 

Tavriel had been one of his closest friends for years, eventually becoming a confidant and someone he felt safe with, but nothing had ever progressed from the companionship. Their relationship had never been anything more than platonic, but Halsin’s feelings had begun to shift as of late. He found himself stealing more glances than normal, a new and exciting flutter rippling across his chest each time he could look more than a few seconds and he could properly take in her features. Tavriel’s copper colored hair was as bright as the autumn sun and was often braided to keep her face clear of her locks while the rest cascaded down her back, resting neatly between her shoulder blades. Her eyes were as deep and green as the forest she called home, flecked with bits of gold that almost glowed if the sun caught her at the right angle. Her sun-kissed skin was littered with freckles from head to toe, the darkest ones sitting atop her shoulders and across the bridge of her nose.

Her scent had become intoxicating lately, making the would-be druid’s head spin if he stood too close. She smelled of the forest, as earthy and hardy as the deepest part of the woodlands where she dwelled. But there was also a hint of something he couldn’t quite describe, yet equally enchanting. She smelled of an otherworldly celestial magic, something ancient and almost forgotten that clung to her skin like moss on a damp rock. He’d never met another mortal soul capable of that kind of magic; the only other instance that came to mind was the power the land spirit Thaniel possessed. Growing up, Halsin had been told stories of a race of deep wood elves that lived in the thickest parts of the land, preferring a life of seclusion and isolation all while worshipping the goddess of the forest, Mielikki, instead of Silvanus. He had also heard how the last remaining deep forest elves had died off long ago, leaving the forest silent and forgotten, yet Halsin couldn’t help but wonder if Tavriel was one of the last remaining of that clan. She lived alone in a hidden spot deep in the brush, the location itself was a mystery even to him, and she’d had no family or clan to call her own for decades now.

His thumb slowly traced along her bottom lip, which was supple and rose tinted, as his forefinger slipped under her chin, slowly tilting her head to the side. Despite his age, Halsin had never kissed, aside from the kiss to the cheek he would get from his mother each morning, and the urge to feel Tavriel’s lips against his own was becoming overwhelming. His stomach twisted into knots as he considered leaning forward to close the gap between them, unsure of how his dearest friend would react. Despite their bond, Tavriel was prone to secrecy and mystery. Halsin often had times deciphering her feelings if she didn’t outright say what was on her mind, which made her difficult to read. He could feel her heart beating in her chest, the vibrations echoing against his own frame. His own heart fluttered as her tongue poked out lightly and wet her tinted lips, her eyes half-lidded in an unspoken expectation of what was to come.

Being the impatient and overeager young man that he was, Halsin dipped his head down, hoping to take Tavriel’s lips with his own in one sweeping, fairytale romantic gesture. It was something he’d played over and over in his mind for days now. Then when and where were something he couldn’t pin, but the how was certainly within his realm of control. He could see it in his mind’s eye, his lips pressing against her in a brief, yet meaningful kiss. Nothing too forward or abrupt, just the beginning notes of a young love. She then, of course, would kiss him back after he pulled away from her, pulling him down to her by the collar of his druid initiate outfit and wrap her arms around his neck. In turn, he would tangle his fingers in her soft hair, smiling against her lips as they lay together in their golden field of wheat, sharing quick, loving kisses until nightfall.

Instead, in his excitement, he rushed forward too quickly, bashing his front teeth against Tavriel’s before their lips could properly connect, filling the space with an audible clack. Halsin felt his chest seize with fear as Tavriel made an audible gasp and could taste a sudden rush of something warm, wet, and metallic against his lips. Her upper lip had gotten caught between their teeth, the delicate skin tearing and bleeding at the sudden force. She could taste the blood on her tongue, instinctively running the appendage over the wound, which was rather small.

Without hesitation, Halsin lifted himself from atop her frame, sitting back on his knees before gently taking the elf by the shoulders and helping her sit up. Before she could speak, Halsin’s hands were on her cheeks, tilting her head towards the remaining light of the fading sun as his thumbs came to her lips, pulling the skin taught so he could inspect the wound. The cut itself was difficult to see, given the smeared blood and saliva that now lingered on her skin. 

“Please, Tavriel,” Halsin said frantically, “f-forgive me I didn’t— I-I was over eager.” Halsin’s mind raced as he tried to remember the incantation for a healing spell, suddenly regretting skipping a few of his medicinal lessons. 

Tavriel brought her fingertips to her bleeding lip, wiping away the blood that had already stopped dripping. Her lip was a little tender, but nothing a short test couldn't fix. She couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the moment. Greater things were happening in the world, yet all that seemed to matter was landing a perfect first kiss. She wiped the remaining blood from her mouth with her sleeve, fully prepared to brush lips with him again. 

“Halsin,” she said softly, “it’s all right.” Halsin simply shook his head, refusing to believe his friend wasn’t angry with him, especially when he was furious with himself. Of all the times to blunder and show his inexperience, of course it had to be this moment. Although, he wasn’t the only one who was inexperienced. Given her life of solitude and a significant lack of other to socialize with, Tavriel had never experienced any sort of intimacy. When she first found herself conflicted with flutters of the stomach and heat in her cheeks, she first assumed she was ill or coming down with a sickness. It wasn’t until she connected these feelings to being in Halsin’s presence did she realize that it was no illness she was afflicted with, but the beginning stages of a young love.

Despite Tavriel’s protests, the young druid was practically beside himself with shame, still babbling away with apologizes and promises of making things right. With a slight roll of her eyes and a light chuckle, Tavriel took Halsin’s cheeks in her hands, pulling his gaze towards her long enough to keep him still. She pressed her lips to his gently, silencing his stammering and uncertainty with one fluid movement. Her eyes closed as she lingered, her body practically melting into Halsin’s chest, waiting for his embrace. She drug her hands down from the sides of his face and nestled them against the center of his chest, fingers latching into the leather bands of his outfit. 

Relief washed over Halsin as Tavriel’s soft, if not slightly swollen, lips caressed his own. He was convinced that she would run off at his blunder; just disappear into the forest and refuse to see him, perhaps forever. Of course, it was his own youthful embarrassment causing these thoughts, especially when considering that he wasn’t fully sure that Tavriel felt the same way. One of his hands caressed her cheek while the other found purchase along the braids resting behind her head, pulling her close to him as he deepened the kiss. 

When they finally pulled their lips from each other, they met the others gaze with a soft smile and a flush to their cheeks. Halsin bumped the tip of his nose against Tavriel’s, who returned the favor. She let out a light and airy giggle as she felt him nuzzle into her cheek moments later, pressing another light kiss to the light blush that had formed there. Their foreheads touched in a warm embrace, simply staying like that together until the sun was well below the horizon and the stars had begun to shine.  

Once they parted, Halsin leaned forward to take her lips with his again, only to find that she had pulled away. He tilted his head to the side just slightly, his brows having knitted together as she came to her feet once again. His hands lingered on her body for as long as possible, savoring the warmth she brought until she had completely stepped away from his grasp. Initially, he thought he had perhaps done something wrong; been too forward of lingered too long.

“If you want another, dear bear,” she said softly, “you’ll have to go on the hunt again.” Her usual playful smirk returned to her lightly bruised lips. Halsin’s eyes flashed a light shimmer of gold as he watched her take off once again, bouncing into the forest at a pace that was anything but a hurry. Tavriel turned to face Halsin once her hand ran across the rough bark of an oak, her heart fluttering as she disappeared into the moon lit depths of the forest, Halsin having already made it more than halfway to her. 

[ticklygiggles]

Miya&Mia's 12 days of Tickles Day 6: Singing

WangXian

A/N: this fic turned out a little different from how I usually write, but I hope y'all enjoy it hehe

During each change of season, a delightful melody from Lan WangJi’s Guqin would fill their small space in the Cloud Recesses. Each of these melodies so different from one another and also different from those of past years, but each and every one of them had something in common: the unconditional and undying love Lan WangJi felt towards Wei WuXian. 

Lan WangJi thought that Wei WuXian hadn't noticed this, but Wei WuXian was no idiot, of course he noticed and he had to admit it, He looked forward with excitement to each change of season. 

He simply couldn't wait to hear the beautiful melodies Lan WangJi wrote and his exquisite voice filling his ears, warm and deep. So when one particularly cold night, Lan WangJi sat upon his Guqin, Wei Wuxian knew he was about to hear his husband's new masterpiece. 

He immediately sat down beside Lan WangJi and smiled from ear to ear, almost vibrating with excitement like WangJi's strings. 

After a sigh, the notes began to flow, softly and slowly like snow falling lazily from the sky. The melody was melancholic, an almost sad, nostalgic tone. The Guqin sounded like the wind whispering through the trees, creating an atmosphere of tranquility and beauty.

Soon after, Lan WangJi’s voice filled his ears and pleasant chills ran through Wei WuXian’s body as his husband sang about the winter arriving again and the hope of walking hand by hand through the snow again this year. 

Wei WuXian's heart was pounding with excitement inside his chest, focused on Lan's beautiful music, so he was very shocked when they suddenly found themselves surrounded by Lan WangJi's qi, little orbs of energy dropping to the ground like actual snow while little blue energy bursts stirred their long hair. 

Wei WuXian saw with amazement the beautiful spectacle Lan WangJi had for him while he sang and played his instrument with light fingers. At some point the blue energy entangled around Wei WuXian's body, warm and gentle and quiet ticklish.

Wei WuXian gasped, feeling his skin cover in goosebumps as the energy filtered through the openings of his clothes and caressed his weak spots playfully. A silly smile pulled at his lips, he wanted to laugh, to ask Lan WangJi what was he trying to do, but he couldn't, he just couldn't stop his beautiful play like that! 

However, the energy was relentless, it brushed against his ribs and under his arms. Across his stomach and circled around his hips, nearly making him buck. The corners of his mouth turned upwards, showing his perfect teeth as he tried to keep himself from laughing, but as the music reached its crescendo, the tickling became more intense, as if light fingers or a bunch of feathers were gently tracing his sensitive skin. 

He couldn't take it anymore and fell back on the wooden floor laughing loudly, kicking and wrapping his arms around his torso, as if that would stop the tickling. As his laughter became more chaotic and vibrant, the melody accompanied him, sounding cheerful and bright, but warm at the same time. 

Wei WuXian couldn't even say his husband's name as he laughed wildly, sweet tears of laughter shining on his eyelashes. He couldn't believe he was being tickled silly like this!

When the melody reached its outro, the tickling started to slowly fade, causing Wei WuXian's loud guffaws to turn into soft giggles and then cute chuckles and so the beautiful song came to an end. 

The only sound in the room now was Wei WuXian's rapid breathing and the last vibrations of the Guqin strings. 

“Lan Zhan~,” Wei WuXian said softly and Lan WangJi laid beside him. “Husband, that was such a pretty melody, but was it really necessary to tickle me like that?!” 

His eyes widened when the sweetest of smiles curved Lan WangJi's lips; if Wei hadn't been breathless in that moment, that smile would've left him gasping. 

“Mn. It was part of the song.” 

Wei WuXian blinked, feeling his cheeks flushing. How could his husband say such things with such a straight face? 

“You're so mean, Lan Zhan!” Wei WuXian whined, but he was smiling, wrapping his arms around Lan WangJi's neck and pressing a loving kiss to his lips. “Thank you for the song, Lan Zhan. For all of them,” he grinned playfully, giggling when Lan WangJi widened his eyes slightly and his ears turned bright pink. 

Lan WangJi, “did you… know they were for you?” 

Wei WuXian, “of course I did, husband! Please write them all for me so I can keep them forever, okay?” 

“Mn. If that is what Wei Ying wants.” 

Wei WuXian giggled happily, hugging Lan WangJi tightly and kissing him deeply. Was it too soon to be excited about Spring?

[cosyvelvetorchid]

If you are still taking prompts “say it again” “i love you” “ah- again” “i love you” “i- i love you too”

Sorry for the delay. I finished writing it them promptly fell asleep lol. Anyway here it is. Enjoy!

As always you can send me bucktommy or saltommy prompts, fluff or smut, and I'll wrote something.

Thanks 🩶

*****

Sal and Tommy had been ordered to sit in the engine. They were two grown ass men, in their mid thirties and Cap had put them on a fucking time out. It was the right call, from Cap's perspective - he was tired of hearing them both snipe at eachother all morning. He gave them the option of a time out to work things out or get written up. Sal was already 2 strikes deep and a 3rd would mean a firing.

The 118 were on standby at a festival. 122 and 147 were primary so the 118's engine was parked at the back of the parking lot just in case. Everyone else had left them alone to work their shit out.

They sat at opposite corners in the back of the engine. Both sat solid with their arms folded across their chests. The silence that hung between them was heavy.

"What were you thinking mouthing off to Cap?" Tommy snapped, breaking the silence.

"Go fuck yourself, Tommy." Sal sniped back. Tommy scoffed.

"Yeah typical Sal - throwing his toys put of the stroller when he's in the wrong."

"As apposed to typical Tommy, who thinks he always knows best?" He threw back.

"Whats that supposed to mean?"

"You always make decisions for other people because you think they're too dumb to make decisions for themselves."

"That is not true." Tommy argued.

"Yes it is! You did it with me. You ended things with me because you decided I wasn't ready. You decided I was too stupid to know what I wanted."

"I.. that's not.. " For once Sal was actually wrong. Sal wasn't the reason Tommy ended things. Tommy was.

"You wanna know what I think?" Stupid question, really, because it wouldn't matter if Tommy didn't want to know, Sal would always give his opinion anyway. "I think that this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you. I think that your scared. I think you're sacred that this has turned into something real and your default is to run. But because you can't admit that, you have to make out that I'm the problem so you can feel better about bailing." He slid across the seats so he was sitting directly opposite Tommy. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"I..." Sal was right. Annoyingly, frustratingly right. Tommy was terrified. He'd never let anybody in has much as he had with Sal over the last 6 months and it scared the shit out of him. Sal sighed and his face softened.

"Tommy, I don't know how many times I have to tell you than I'm in this before you believe me. Yes, it's new for me, and half the time, I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm not a child - I know what I want. You. But you have to decide what you want. Not what you think I need."

Tommy didn't need to think about what he wanted. He leaned forward grabbing at Sals face and planting his lips firmly on his. Sal responded immediately my opening his mouth allowing their tongues to massage eachothers. His hands were all over Tommy. A low grunt came from Tommys throat as Sals hands quickly unbuttoned his turnouts and reached inside to feel Tommy beneath his underwear. Sal pulled him out entirely and began fisting up and and down quickly.

Tommy had spent the last 3 weeks trying not to think about Sal. Trying not to think about how he handled his dick, how he kissed Tommy like he was the first person he'd ever kissed and yet somehow the last person he would ever kiss. How just the thought of Sal being at his place when he walked through the door made his entire soul feel warm. And how that feeling in his stomach when they had first crossed the line of their friendship had slowly spread upwards to his heart and taken root deep inside.

As Sal was kissing and touching him within an inch of his life, those feelings were working their up from his chest to his throat and mouth and now lay delicately on the tip of his tongue.

"God I've missed you." Sal panted into his ear as he kissed down Tommy's neck.

"I.. fuck Sal.. I.." He couldn't hold it in any longer. The words tumbled out of his mouth full force. "I love you."

Sal stopped moving his hand. He lifted his head to meet Tommys gaze. Tommy's stomach filled with utter terror and his mind scrambled to think of a way to get out of this. To somehow take back the words that Sal would more than likely not reciprocate. Sals eyes confidenltly bore into Tommys.

"Say it again." He whispered firmly not moving his eyes from Tommy's.

"I love you." Tommy repeated feeling like all his organs were vibrating. Sal began moving his hand again causing Tommy to catch his breath.

"Ah-again." Sal demanded.

"I love you."

"I-i love you too." He pressed his lips so unbelievably gently onto Tommy's that it was enough for Tommy to tumble over the edge, coating sals hand and his own chest with everything he had inside of him.

[gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley]

love. [g.w. x reader] (blurb, kinda)

a/n: this is gonna be an au where the wizarding war doesn’t take place. doesn’t affect much but at least george and you get to graduate from 7th year. dumbly-dorr is alive. everyone is alive.

a/n 2: i highlyyy recommend listening to love by wte or seasons (whichever works) while listening to this :'))) I wrote this while listening to love !!

--

december snow, final farewells, bitter-sweet hugs that seem to last for centuries before painfully pulling away.

hogwarts class of 1995 stood in the great hall with their pointed caps on. students were wiping away at their eyes, trying to compose themselves as they waited for the headmaster to give his speech. the air was thick with sentiment. parents were seated in another column of seats watching their children in their final moments before they step into adulthood.

your eyes scanned the room, looking for a particular face. a face you’d be seeing for the last time before moving back to muggle london.

the graduation procession went by smoothly as students flung their pointed caps into the air, shouting with rejoice. you couldn’t help but tear up knowing you’d be leaving behind the wizarding world and him. just then, a warm pair of hands held on to yours.

“y/n.” said george as he tugged at it, leading you out of the hall.

he led you up the moving staircases, through the corridors and into a room that appeared before your eyes; the room of requirement.

“george? what’s happening?” you asked, still trying to process everything.

he led you into the room, letting his actions answer the question instead. it looked like a ballroom, decorated with jewelled chandeliers that sparkled and enchanted candelabras that seemed to sway. a little vinyl player stood in the corner of the room, and with a flick of a wand, george turned it on. it made scratching noises at first, but then slowly faded into a sweet tune. it was the song you two first listened to together in fourth year.

then, he held you by the waist, waltzing your bodies towards the centre of the room. he guided you through the steps, easing your uncertainty. his eyes looked deeply into yours, as if he were savouring this last dance. you saw how his eyes seemed to glisten with tears, and you wondered if yours were too.

a look of sadness flickered on his face. his head dove into the crook of your neck and his arms slithered around your waist, now enveloping you in a tight, desperate hug.

“please, don’t leave,” he said, voice breaking, “don’t leave me.”

your body stiffened, no longer swaying to the rhythm of the music. the candelabras seemed to lean in, now curious. your face softened and returned the embrace, tiptoeing slightly to lean into his neck. his hand made its way up, raking fingers through your hair.

“i’ll visit you, always.” you whispered into his ear reassuringly, rubbing circles into his back.

“every month?” 

“yes, every month.”

“and a letter every week?”

“yes, darling. every week, every day, every hour.” you could hear his sobs reduce to sniffles.

content, he swayed your bodies side to side as the song was nearing its end, head still deep in your neck. you could feel his tears wet your skin. you pressed a long kiss onto his shoulder, as your eyes stared at the floor.

the swaying of bodies went on until the song finally ended, leaving the two of you in complete silence.

“y/n?” george said.

“yes, george?”

“do you know what i’m feeling right now?”

the room then turned dim. yellow butterflies started to swirl around your bodies, bewitching you with the fluidity of their movement as if they were one unit.

“what are you feeling?”

he finally pulled away, allowing you to take one final look at him. his face was red and glistening with tears. you wiped away at his face with the sleeve of your robes and cupped his face in your hands. then, he leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours. 

“loved.”

--

[senkusimper]

circles - bakugou x reader

pov: a villain attacks and you rush into a building to save people, but said building collapses.

i wrote this while listening to "circles" by pierce the veil ,, now be sad like i was <3 i don't know if i wanna do a pt 2 to this so take the ending however you'd like

The rain pounded mercilessly on the crumbling cityscape, each drop adding to the sense of urgency. The sky was a dark shroud, lightning occasionally illuminating the chaos below. You were in the thick of it, a hero in your own right, focused on saving as many civilians as possible from the collapsing building.

RUMBLE!

The training grounds at U.A. High School were bustling with activity. Students were honing their skills, pushing themselves to their limits. You and Bakugou were no different. "Y/N, don't just stand there! Move!" Bakugou barked, his explosive palms crackling with energy. You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at your lips. "Relax, Bakugou. I've got this." You activated your quirk, effortlessly dodging his blasts. "Tch. Showoff," he muttered, but there was a hint of pride in his eyes as he watched you move. You didn't notice, too focused on the training.

"Everyone, stay calm!" you shouted, your voice barely audible over the sounds of destruction. Your quirk flared, lifting heavy beams and debris off trapped individuals. The building groaned ominously, its structure weakened by the relentless assault.

A child cried out from beneath a pile of rubble. Without hesitation, you sprinted towards the sound, your heart racing. You used your quirk to lift the debris, revealing a terrified little girl. "It's okay, I’ve got you," you said soothingly, lifting her into your arms. "We’re getting out of here."

You handed the girl to a nearby civilian who was able to run, urging them both towards the exit. The building shook violently again, causing more debris to fall. You spotted an elderly man struggling to move, his leg trapped under a fallen beam.

CRACK!

The cafeteria was buzzing with chatter, but Bakugou and you were in your own world. You sat across from him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "So, BK, what do you think of the new training regimen?" you asked, poking at your food. He grunted, not looking up from his meal. "It's tough, but we need it. Can't be weak if we want to be pro heroes." You laughed, the sound making his chest feel tight. "Always so serious. Lighten up a bit, will you?" He finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the noise of the cafeteria faded, and it was just the two of you. "You talk too much," he said, but his tone was softer than usual.

The ceiling above you started to give way. You gritted your teeth, pushing through the exhaustion as you used your quirk to lift the beam and free the man. "Go! Now!" you urged him, helping him to his feet and directing him to the exit.

As he hobbled away, you heard another cry for help. A young woman was trapped in a corner, surrounded by flames and falling debris. The ceiling above her was moments from collapsing. You took a deep breath, summoning the last of your strength. "I can do this," you whispered to yourself.

You dashed towards her, using your quirk to blast away the flames and debris. "Come on, we need to move!" you shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her to safety. Just as you reached the exit, the building shuddered violently. The ceiling gave a final, deafening creak before collapsing entirely.

CRASH!

The training grounds were empty, the moon casting long shadows across the field. You and Bakugou stayed late, determined to get stronger. "You don't have to stay, you know," you said, wiping sweat from your brow. He scoffed. "As if I'd let you get ahead of me. Dream on." You smirked, launching a playful attack with your quirk. He dodged effortlessly, countering with a blast that made your hair stand on end. "Nice try, BK," you teased, breathless but exhilarated. "You're not half bad," he admitted, a rare compliment. You blinked in surprise, but before you could respond, he turned away, hiding the faint blush on his cheeks.

Outside, Bakugou was locked in a fierce battle with a villain. Explosions lit up the night as he fought with every ounce of his strength. He heard the deafening crash of the building collapsing and felt a cold dread settle in his chest. "No... please no," he whispered, blasting the villain away with a powerful explosion.

After a particularly grueling training session, you both lay on the grass, staring up at the sky. The silence was comfortable. "You ever think about the future, Kats?" you asked quietly. He was quiet for a moment before responding. "Yeah. 'm gonna be the number one hero." You smiled softly. "Of course you are. And I'll be right there, too." He turned his head to look at you, his expression unreadable. "Don't go getting yourself killed," he said, the words heavier than they seemed. "Same to you," you replied, your voice equally serious.

Without wasting a second, he sprinted towards the wreckage, his heart pounding in his chest. As he neared the building, a flash of movement caught his eye. A civilian, struggling to free themselves from the debris. Bakugou didn't hesitate. He blasted the rubble away, pulling the terrified person to safety. "Get out of here!" he barked, shoving them towards safety.

Without wasting another second, he prepared to charge into the unstable building. "Shit..." he muttered, his voice barely reaching his own ears. He was about to enter when a firm grip tightened around him, yanking him back.

"Hey!" Bakugou growled, struggling against the capture weapon wrapped around him. "Let me go! She’s- Y/N is still in there!"

Aizawa's eyes were stern and unwavering. "The building isn't stable, Bakugou. If you go in now, you'll just get yourself killed."

Bakugou thrashed, trying to break free. "I don't care! Let me go!"

"You need to calm down," Aizawa said firmly. "We can't afford to lose you too. Rescue teams are on their way. We have to wait."

Bakugou's eyes blazed with fury and desperation. "I can't just stand here and do nothing! Y/N is in there!"

Aizawa's grip didn't falter. "I understand how you feel, but this is the only way to ensure the safety of everyone involved. You have to trust the rescue teams."

The simulated city was eerily quiet, the perfect setting for the latest training exercise. Aizawa had planned for a building to collapse during the exercise, adding an element of urgency and danger. Bakugou and you were paired together, tasked with finding and rescuing a dummy representing a civilian. "Let's make this quick," Bakugou grumbled, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "I don't want to waste time here." You nodded, equally focused. "Agreed. The dummy should be somewhere in that building." The two of you moved with precision, entering the building and locating the dummy within minutes. Just as you lifted it, the ground beneath you shuddered. Aizawa's voice crackled over the intercom. "Building collapse simulation initiated. Evacuate immediately." The walls began to creak and groan, debris falling around you. Bakugou's eyes widened in realization. "Shit, we need to move!" Before he could react further, you grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Come on!" you urged, your voice steady despite the chaos. You started running, pulling him along with you, the dummy secured under your arm. The building continued to crumble, large chunks of debris crashing down around you. Bakugou kept pace with you, his grip on your hand tightening as you navigated through the collapsing structure. He could feel the heat of the explosions he was ready to use to clear a path if necessary. As you neared the exit, you glanced back at him, a determined smile on your face. Bakugou felt a surge of something unfamiliar but powerful – trust, maybe, or a deep-seated respect for your unwavering courage. He smiled back for a moment. Just one moment. With a final sprint, the two of you burst out of the building just as it fully collapsed behind you. The rush of escaping in the nick of time left both of you breathless, but the adrenaline made it feel exhilarating.

Bakugou's body trembled with rage and helplessness. His mind was a whirlwind of memories – your laugh, your determination, your smile. He couldn't lose you, not like this.

As the minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity, he watched the rescue teams work tirelessly, pulling civilians from the wreckage. Every person they saved brought a flicker of hope, but you were still nowhere to be seen.

[conchcronch]

Making a Mess Part 3

Sanji x Zoro

Sanji’s vow to stave off drinking comes to a swift end when he finds himself in the red light district being handed free drinks. Yet another night of drinking with Zoro leads to them repeating their first night together.

If you haven’t already, please read part 1 and 2 before continuing, otherwise it won’t make much sense.

NSFW below the cut.

Spotify Playlist for the Vibes

“Sanji, you’re gonna’ come ashore with us right?” Nami asked him as he collected the empty glasses he had served the girls’ drinks in.

”How could I turn down an invitation from such a beautiful lady, my sweet Nami,” He smiled.

”Even if you’re still taking a break from drinking it’ll still be fun to have you!” Franky added from where he was playing volleyball with Usopp, Chopper and Luffy on the deck of the Sunny.

”I was thinking of stopping at the night market, I’ve heard it’s got some rare ingredients I’d like to try to get my hands on.”

“Get me more sake, Curly,” Zoro called as he climbed down from the crow’s nest.

”Get it yourself Moss-For-Brains!” Sanji bit back, his demeanor immediately changing at the swordsman’s words.

“At least I’ve got brains, all you think about are tits and-“ Zoro expertly dodged Sanji’s first kick before grabbing his second one. He held it tightly, finally meeting the cook’s rage filled gaze, smirking for a second before lifting the leg he held as high as Sanji’s muscles would allow it. Clearly not expecting Zoro’s attempt at a counter, a gasp slipping past his lips as Zoro winked before letting his leg go with a slight shove to push him off balance, giving him time to walk away before Sanji could get another kick in.

Frustration built in Sanji but he opted to let Zoro be, choosing to silently collect the last few cups from his crewmates and hoping no one noticed the wink…or how flushed his cheeks were after.

They avoided each other like two positively charged magnets until they all went ashore. Avoiding each other wasn’t new, it had been a daily occurrence but after that night, things had changed. Sanji found Zoro sitting in his kitchen, sometimes even napping in the booth while he prepped in between meals. They hadn’t talked about that night, but it was apparent they both remembered it, the wink made that very clear.

Once everyone got to town, people began walking in pairs. As Sanji walked in the direction he was told the night market was, he felt someone close at his heels, turning to see Zoro. He shouldn’t have been surprised but he was, even more so when the man spoke “Want help?” They kept walking, now side by side as they maneuvered the growing crowds of this town’s tavern scene.

“N-No I’m alright, don’t let me get in the way of your drinking.” Sanji waved him off but Zoro’s pace never faltered.

“I’ll drink after, figured you’d need someone to carry your bags since you’re so dainty.” Sanji felt his brow twitch in annoyance but before he could come up with a retort they noticed the crowd thin. Zoro looked around, pulling Sanji to the side while he pulled a small notebook from his back pocket to look at the directions he had hastily wrote when someone a few islands over had told him about it.

“Says it should be around here,” Sanji looks up from the pages and scans the surrounding area. “I guess we’ll keep looking.” Sanji grabs Zoro’s forearm, knowing that if he let go now, Zoro would surely get lost. The swordsman didn’t fight this, not agreeing that he would get lost, but the feeling of Sanji’s hand wrapped around his exposed arm had his blood pumping more than he’d want to admit.

They kept walking, turning down an ally when Sanji thought he smelled meat being cooked. As the sun finally dipped under the horizon they turned a few corners and found themselves on the edge of town. The streets were lined with dim lanterns that cast a flickering red glow as they walked under them. Sanji still had his nose in his notebook, as though the directions would appear only for a second and he’d miss it if he looked away. A smile spread across Zoro’s lips slowly as he looked around at the bars and the people who were along the paths, taking special interest in anyone who would make eye contact with them. Zoro hastily wrapped his arm around Sanji’s waist, forcibly pulling him to the side of the path and coming to a stop. “Okay, not that I’m complaining, but this definitely isn’t the kind of night market you’re looking for.” Sanji looked around, it took a bit for it to sink in, but when it did his face flushed. “Come on Curly, we walked all the way here, might as well take in the sights.” Zoro smirked, grabbing the cook’s tie and pulling him towards the nearest bar. Sanji managed to wrench his tie from the other man’s hand, stopping just outside the threshold. There were a few scantily clad women walking along the building, trying to make eyes at Zoro who paid them no mind.

“I’m not sure I wa-“ Zoro grabbed the tie again.

”Stop doing that!” Sanji groaned, trying to pry the larger hands off the fabric while being led into the crowded bar. Zoro stopped and pulled enough Berries from his pocket to pay the cover for the both of them before tugging on the tie again. “I’m not a dog!” Sanji had to yell over the music, finally ripping the tie out of Zoro’s grasp and tucking it back into his buttoned blazer. They quickly found a pair of stools at the bar, Zoro immediately ordered two shots as Sanji was looking around the bar, but he didn’t know what or who for. He just wanted to look busy even though he could feel Zoro’s eyes burning holes into his back. Sanji’s gaze fell on a small stage that he could just barely see over the crowd that had gathered there, it wasn’t until he watched a woman wearing a dress that left very very little to the imagination that he realized the type of club this was. He watched as she dragged herself along the single golden pole before spinning around it as she ran her free hand up and down her body.

“Oi, Curly,” Zoro said close enough to his ear that he felt his lips brush along his lobe for a fraction of a second. He turned to look at the man who handed him a shot.

“So much for not drinking for awhile,” Sanji attempted to yell over the music that had suddenly gotten even louder. The drink burned the entire way down his throat as he tried to recall the last time he had done a shot…if ever. He hadn’t even been holding the empty shot glass for 10 seconds before Zoro replaced it with another full one before tossing back his own. “What’re you, made of money?” Sanji had to yell over the music but Zoro couldn’t hear. Just as Sanji was about to repeat himself, louder this time, Zoro pulled Sanji’s stool as close to his own as he could before leaning so close he could feel his breath on his neck. That, paired with the alcohol rushing through his system, was a problematic combo.

“They’re free,” Zoro yelled, voice gravelly. Sanji could just furrow his brow in response. Zoro nodded over his shoulder towards a guy sitting at the end of the bar, he had been staring since the two sat down. “Don’t put too much thought into it, just take it and say thanks.” Zoro put another glass in Sanji’s hand before holding his up towards the stranger even going as far as to shoot him a wink before tossing it back. Sanji mimicked him, minus the wink.

Sanji could feel the alcohol warm his thighs, his cheeks felt hot as he watched the woman spin around the pole. Zoro said something but Sanji didn’t catch it so he leaned into him, feeling his body sway into the other man’s who slung an arm around his shoulders and brought his lips right against his ear. “You wanna go somewhere quieter?” He nodded, forcing himself up, Zoro’s arm slipping down to his waist.

“Where would that be?” Zoro tugged him, leading him away from the bar and up some stairs. “How do you know where we’re going?” They got to another floor and the swordsman started peaking into rooms, ignoring the closed doors. The music thumped downstairs while moans could barely be heard from the closed doors.

“These places are all the same,” He muttered, finding an empty room and tugging Sanji inside, closing the door behind them. Both men flopped on the curved couch, Sanji’s eyes glued to the silver pole in the middle.

“You come to these places a lot?” Zoro picked up an abandoned glass of clear liquid, sniffed it before drinking it.

“Gotta’ blow off some steam sometimes, y’know,” Sanji nodded. “No you don’t.”

“The hell do you mean I don’t?”

“You never blow off steam.” Zoro leaned back against the couch before stretching his arms above his head, his shirt pulling up enough to show off his treasure trail.

“You don’t know what I do.” Sanji began digging through his pockets until he pulled out a cigarette from one and his lighter from the other, taking no time at all to light it and inhale deeply. Exhaling directly in Zoro’s face.

“I know that you popped a boner the moment I held you against that wall.” Zoro beamed with a cocky grin. If it hadn’t been for the alcohol coursing through his veins he would have been beyond flustered, but instead he felt a competitive burst.

“I had drank a lot.” Zoro reached both arms back, resting them on the top of the couch back, his knees spread wide as he smirked at the other man.

“Yeah, like it wouldn’t happen again.” He said sarcastically, Sanji opted to stay quiet knowing that Zoro was probably right. Sanji inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with smoke, holding it for a few seconds before pushing it out his nostrils. When a few more seconds went by Sanji finally met Zoro’s eyes,

“Why’re we here?” Sanji asked, resisting the urge to crunch the cigarette between his front teeth in frustration. The urge only growing when he watched Zoro shrug.

“You’re the one that dragged me across this town, I’m just trying to make the most of it.” Sanji’s eyes scanned over the other man, taking in the way his white shirt was stretched across his large chest, the fabric struggling to hold when his chest was at the apex of an inhale.

Zoro could barely handle the way Sanji’s eyes slid over his body, lingering on his thighs before slowly making their way back up to his chest. He watched as Sanji unconsciously ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip leaving a shine over them. It was becoming too much for the Swordsman who pushed himself up, the alcohol tingling in his loins as he used his foot to nudge the blonde’s knees apart enough to be able to stand between them.

Sanji would be lying to himself if he tried to say he didn’t love the way the other man towered over him. If he had a few more drinks in him, he’s fairly certain he would have leaned over and mouthed at his covered semi but thankfully for his ego he maintained his relaxed posture, puffing a cloud of smoke up at Zoro who remained unmoving. “What’re you waiting for? Or did you forget what you were doing?”

“Big talk from someone who can’t admit that they want me.” Sanji rolled his eyes, leaning forward and around Zoro to tap the ash from his cigarette in the ashtray before leaning back again, a smirk playing across his lips.

“Like you said, it’s just blowing off steam.” He knew it was probably more than that, he knew that it was something to do with who he was dealing with that made him keep putting himself in positions to repeat their first night together. But he would rather never cook again than admit that to anyone.

Something in Zoro changed but Sanji was too dumb to notice. Zoro reached out and grabbed the cigarette, pulling it from his lips and snuffing it out on the table before handing Sanji one of the shots that had been on the table when they got here. “Smoke tastes terrible.” Sanji begrudgingly did what was silently instructed to him before putting the shot back on the table. Zoro still didn’t move.

“Jesus Marimo, are you waiting for an invitation?!” Sanji was getting frustrated, his dick was half hard in anticipation and Zoro was fully aware of that, that was part of the reason he wasn’t going to give in so quick.

“I want you to say it.” He bent his leg just slightly so it could ghost over the bulge.

“Say what,” Sanji knew exactly what Zoro wanted, he wasn’t a complex person and even less of a complex lover. But Sanji wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be so free with his words, especially when it involved him admitting how much he craved the swordsman he swore to kill one day.

“Say you want me.” Sanji huffed out a laugh.

“I don’t need to say shit, I could go downstairs and find 5 people that do what you did ten times better.”

“That may be true but at least I won’t infect you with something that would give our poor doctor a heart attack.” Zoro reached behind him for the other glass of unknown alcohol and knocked it back. “Just say it and I’ll give you what we both want,” he reached his hand forward to grab Sanji’s tie, tugging him forward a bit.

When Sanji stayed silent Zoro shrugged as he stepped away from Sanji, letting the tie slip from between his thick fingers before walking around the table in the center of the room towards the door. “Have fun jerking off in a private room, I’m gonna go find a good fuck.” And just like that, Sanji was alone with his half hard dick and alcohol clouded brain.

He couldn’t force himself to get up yet, practically praying his dick would go down enough that it wasn’t noticeable so he could get out of the bar and back to the ship without risking unwanted attention. He carded his fingers through his hair, silently cursing himself for not being able to just swallow his pride and say something.

After a few minutes Sanji had finally deflated enough to start heading back to the ship, only half concerned about whether Zoro would find his way back or not.

But before he could even make it to the exit he saw Zoro with the guy who had been buying them shots earlier. The man was still sitting on the bar stool and Zoro was standing between his knees, arms thrown around his neck, eye staring at the stairs where Sanji now stood. He could tell Zoro saw him by the corners of his lips turning up in a smirk as he kissed the man.

“Fuck.” Sanji grumbled, balling his fists as he cleared the distance between them in a few long strides, he grabbed the front of Zoro’s shirt and yanked him away from the stranger. Zoro smiled the biggest Sanji had ever seen, knowing he had gotten exactly what he wanted. Sanji pulled him back up the stairs, but only made it to the landing before he slammed Zoro into the wall like the swordsman had done all those nights ago.

“Say it.” Zoro said, hands already on Sanji’s chest and snaking around to the back pockets of his pants.

“You’re a lot of work”

“Not what I meant.” Sanji used his height to his advantage and lowered his head so he could smell the gin on Zoro’s breath. Zoro’s hands on Sanji’s ass pulled him close, so their crotches were pressed together, neither of them surprised by the other’s hard on. “It’s fine,” Zoro nipped at what little of Sanji’s neck was exposed under his one undone button. “I’m sick of waiting, I’ll have you begging in a few minutes,” Zoro pushed him back with one hand before using the other to grab the front of his shirt and pulling him back to the room they had been in moments earlier. Zoro slammed the door shut and all but threw Sanji into the couch. He landed sprawled out, barely having a second to get his bearings before Zoro straddled his lap.

“Sounds like a challenge,” Sanji smirked, his bangs pushed out of the way of his eye so he could see Zoro in his full glory.

“Not a challenge, a promise.” Zoro leaned down and started to mouth at his neck, one hand gripping the back of the couch to hold himself up while the other worked on unbuttoning Sanji’s shirt. One of the lower buttons got stuck and instead of pulling back from Sanji’s neck, Zoro tore the fabric apart.

“What the fuck!” Sanji went to push him off but before he could, Zoro’s hands were all over his chest. They slide painfully slow up his chest, they were wide enough to almost wrap around Sanji’s sides. Zoro was sitting watching the cook’s expression as his thumbs brushed experimentally over each of his nipples, watching the way Sanji’s lips parted before he caught his lower lip between his teeth just in time to stifle a moan that was about to slip out. He kept his left hand where it was, lazily teasing the cook’s nipple while the other hand slid up to his neck as he admired the hickies from their first encounter that were just barely there. “If you think this will get me begging, you’re sorely mistaken.” Sanji managed to say without his voice wavering as much as he expected. Zoro huffed a cocky laugh.

“If you think this is me trying then you’re sorely mistaken. I’m just thinking.”

“Oh god, don’t strain yourself Marimo,” Sanji smirked half a second before Zoro’s grip in his neck tightened, his thumb biting into the chef’s windpipe just enough for him to feel it.

“God, it’s like you want me to leave you again.” Zoro adjusted himself on Sanji’s lap, making sure he was still painfully hard, earning a whimper from the man under him was just a bonus. Zoro leaned over Sanji, his lips a few millimeters away from the other’s and slowly began grinding against him. Zoro was quickly getting irritated the longer Sanji managed to keep his mouth shut. He could tell that he was enjoying this, he even felt his cock twitch every so often. Zoro dragged his lips along the chef’s cheek, along his jaw and down to his neck, hoping he would get some sort of reaction.

He began sucking the skin roughly, surly turning it red and purple. He could feel Sanji’s jaw clench and as Zoro shifted his weight and moved his leg from beside Sanji’s to between them, pushing his knee as high as it could go he heard the whisper of a moan. He kept going, doubling down with some moans of his own which worked wonderfully.

Sanji was moaning and whimpering like a whore, even when Zoro pulled away to look at him he kept whining, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “Please,” Zoro grinned.

“Please what, Curly?” He asked while grinding more against him, groaning a bit while doing it.

“You know what.” He pleaded.

“I really don’t, remember I’ve got moss for brains.” He could hear Sanji whine a bit and just as he opened his mouth to speak, Zoro slipped his hand into his pants as if it were something he had done a thousand times. His hand was immediately covered in precum, he wrapped his calloused hand around Sanji’s burning hot cock and began to stroke him. Sanji all but cried at the contact before Zoro felt two sweaty hands grab his forearm, bringing his attention up to the other man’s face. His eyes were glassy, lips red from him biting them and he shook his head slightly. “You don’t want me to?” Sanji shook his head again but then swallowed hard and in a very raw voice said,

“I want nothing more than you to, but I’m gonna’ cum if you don’t stop,” his voice was shaky and cracked as he spoke. His grip loosened as Zoro pulled his hand from his slacks and sat up. There was a heavy silence as both men were trying to figure out what to do next, neither wanting to look at the other.

After a few minutes, just before Zoro was about to get up, Sanji sat up. He slowly pulled his legs from between Zoro’s thighs, unbuckling his pants and feeling relieved at the lessened pressure. He looked over, seeing the last of the abandoned shot glasses left by someone before them. He reached over, knocked one back before turning his attention back to Zoro who had become very invested in the cracks and dents on the wall behind Sanji.

It wasn’t until he felt Sanji’s hand on his chest, applying just enough pressure to tell Zoro that he wanted him to lay back. “I…I didn’t like the thought of you making me…and never offering anything in return.” His face was burning up but it was impossible to tell if it was from the alcohol or the sentence that left his bitten lips.

“You don’t have to…” Sanji was on top of him now, looking down at him. Zoro so rarely saw both of Sanji’s eyes that when he did he couldn’t look away.

“I want to, I know you’re dumb but you can’t be that dumb, right Marimo.” For some reason that name, that name that had always pissed Zoro off didn’t this time. The way he said it was different, the gentle touch of his hand in Zoro’s hair and the way his lips felt pressed against the Swordsman’s. It was sloppy, sure, it tasted of nicotine and gin but Zoro didn’t think he had ever been kissed like this.

At first, Zoro grabbed his waist, pushing his dress shirt up enough to feel skin. But as Sanji continued the kiss, the swordsman found himself wrapping his arms around the smaller man and pulling him flush against him. His hands went from his waist to his ass, loving the way the muscle fit into his palms. Zoro barely registered Sanji’s hands pulling at the bottom of his T-shirt, signaling that he wanted it off. Zoro reluctantly let go of his ass so he could sit up, straddling his hips like Zoro had done only a bit ago to him. Sanji pulled his shirt off of him then struggled off the tattered remains of his own. While he was doing that, Zoro unzipped his cargo pants but didn’t take them fully off. Sanji reached into the open pants and only a bit clumsily groped Zoro’s aching bulge. Even though it was clear Sanji was unsure of himself a heavy groan fell from Zoro’s lips as his head fell back against the crusty cushion.

Feeling emblazoned, Sanji awkwardly tries to wrap his hand around Zoro’s cock through his underwear. He fiddled, hoping for it to feel right in his hand but without much overthinking he yanked the underwear down and under his balls so it would stay. His hand wrapped slowly around Zoro’s shaft, stroking it with unsure hands, trying to get used to the feeling. Zoro on the other hand, was trying to control himself. He wanted nothing more than to tell Sanji how to do it, tell him to tighten his fist, cup his balls and for the love of god go faster. But he resisted, knowing that Sanji was still getting used to this and was going at his own pace.

Sanji was quickly getting more accustomed to the feeling, deciding he wanted more than this, he crawled up from between Zoro’s thick sun kissed thighs. He moved up along his sculpted form, leaving a trail of wet kisses that turned into him dragging his tongue along the man’s salty skin. Without so much as a first, second or third thought, he latched onto the swordsman’s nipple, flicking it with his tongue and feeling Zoro’s cock twitch in his grasp. He looked up through his lashes at Zoro, pleased to see his head was thrown back and a heavy sigh left his parted lips.

While Sanji was distracted by teasing Zoro, his hand had slowed to barely stroking his aching cock and Zoro was boardering on feral the longer it went without any motion. Sanji detached his lips from Zoro’s nipple and nibbled his way up to Zoro’s chin, loving the way he could feel his laboured breath against his face. “Jesus, Curly,” Zoro all but grunted, causing Sanji to pull back and look at him with a slightly concerned expression. “You’re fuckin’ killing me.” Zoro reached down both of his hands, leaning forward a bit to reach, he covered Sanji’s hand with his own and started guiding him to a pace that was less frustrating. “Need you to go faster.” Sanji sat back on his haunches, giving the other man’s cock his full attention now. Loving the way the girthy cock looked wrapped in three hands. Zoro watched Sanji who’s breathing was quick and his cheeks flushed, when he noticed Sanji nod, he let go and leaned back. A long groan left his lips as Sanji maintained the exact speed and pressure Zoro had set, he couldn’t help but blindly reach out for contact of any kind. He managed to find Sanji’s face, pulling his attention up to his face he sighed out a “Fuck, just like that.” Sanji moved his head so he could catch Zoro’s thumb between his teeth before closing his lips around it and sucking, his eyes fluttering closed. “Such a good boy,” In any other situation, Zoro would never have said something like that so early in their sexual relationship, but when he saw Sanji’s clothed cock noticeably jump he made a mental note to call him that more often.

As Sanji kept jerking Zoro’s cock with one hand, he reached into his briefs pushing them down so he could finally give his dick the attention it so desperately craved. Zoro quickly notices, grabs the waist of Sanji’s now open slacks and tugs him a bit. “Come ‘ere,” He says, wanting Sanji to straddle him.

Once Sanji resumes his position on Zoro, Zoro bats away Sanji’s hand that was still on his cock and replaces it with his, encircling both of their dicks and holding them tightly against one another. With one hand occupied, he uses his free hand to grab Sanji by the throat again, pulling him down until their lips are smashed together.

Zoro’s pace is fast and rough, and the kiss mirrors that. It’s all teeth, tongue, and moans which normally Sanji would be against but he is reveling in it. “P-Please don’t st-stop,” Sanji whines into Zoro’s mouth, biting the swordsman's bottom lip instead of his own.

“Told ya’ I could make you beg.” Zoro grunted, the corners of his mouth upturned in a cocky grin.

“Fuck you,” Sanji says, his tone was meant to be harsh but it came out as a whine.

“Would love it if you did” Zoro growls out, his pace on their cocks increasing until Sanji finally snaps, his cock spilling on Zoro’s stomach. He goes as limp as he can without getting his stomach covered in their cum, Zoro lets go of his neck and very subtly moves over so Sanji can collapse onto Zoro’s side to avoid the puddle. Zoro loosens his hand enough that Sanji’s cock is freed from the feverish pace he is going at to try to reach his own peak. It isn’t until he feels Sanji’s hand replace his own, mimicking his pace bringing him closer to his edge. Zoro can feel Sanji’s warm breath on his neck, and paired with the attention his cock is getting he doesn’t last much longer, cumming with a groan from far back in his throat.

They both laid there for a bit, enjoying their afterglow together. Zoro fidgets enough that he can wrap his arm around Sanji, pulling him even closer than they already were, given how narrow the couch is. Neither of them commented on this intimate gesture, both chalking it up to the post cum fog.

Zoro gropes the sticky floor blindly until he manages to find his forgotten t-shirt, using it to wipe up the cooling mess on his abs. Sanji took this as a signal to squirm out of the cramped spot he had between the back of the couch and the larger man, sitting up and watching Zoro, taking him in for a few seconds. Loving the way he could see his tan chest, minty treasure trail that was now slightly crusty with dried cum.He could even see some prominent veins leading down to his cock. “You always leave your cock out after sex?” Zoro joked, lifting his ass up enough that he could pull his pants back into place before stuffing his deflating cock back in.

“Do you always use your clothes to sop up your cum?” Sanji countered as he sorted himself out, watching as Zoro stuffed his soiled shirt in his back pocket so it dangled as he walked.

They both made their way out of the bar, Zoro pulling Sanji through the crowd towards the exit. The moment they were out in the cool sea air, Sanji fished around his pocket for a cigarette, lighting it before having to quickly grab Zoro as he started off in the opposite direction of the boat. They walked silently back to the ship, neither of them bringing up the fact that their hands had been intertwined since they had left the bar.

The silence was broken by Sanji just as Zoro was about to start climbing the ladder onto the Sunny, “They’re gonna know.” His gaze following the trail of hickies he had left all over Zoro’s chest and neck, some even going down to his hips and below the waist of his pants. Zoro managed to catch the slight shake in Sanji’s voice, squeezing his hand ever so slightly before letting it go and shrugging.

“We’ll just tell ‘em we found a set of twins or some shit. No one will ask you, and if someone asks me, I’ll make up something.” He started climbing the ladder, looking back at the blonde man who’s fingers were seconds away from getting burnt by the ash gathering at the end of his cigarette. “It’ll be fine, Curly” He winked and climbed the rest of the way up once he felt the other man begin to climb behind him.