#i want bob to take him under his wing

[tothebestofmyabilities]

Im so obsessed with the idea of bob hiring zeke at some point in his later teens

[soaps-mohawk]

The Angel and The Devil

Kyletober Day 17: Double Penetration

Summary: In the back of the bar in a booth just barely visible, they are seated. You’ve been eyeing them since you first caught a glimpse, almost drawn to them in a magnetic haze. You can’t help but look, even if you run the risk of being caught staring. You have yet to be so unlucky, as their attention seems to be on each other the most.

Pairing: Incubus!Kyle x reader x Incubus!Johnny

Word Count: 6,688 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, anal sex, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), munch!Kyle, costumes, demons, symbolism, slight coercion, alcohol, language

A/N: And here we are! We've arrived at the end of Kyletober for what I think is my favorite fic of the month. It's been a fun month and I've had a good time with these fics and seeing everyone's reactions. I hope you've enjoyed the last month as well and Happy Halloween everyone!

MASTERLIST

The bar is full of all sorts of characters and creatures tonight. 

It’s Halloween which means the bar is fuller than usual, even on a weekend. It had been a last minute decision which led you to the bar. After a rough day at work you needed a pick-me-up and so you had gone to the nearest store, grabbed one of the few remaining costumes off the shelf in favor of not sticking out, and then headed to your favorite bar. 

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

You’re beginning to regret not looking closer at the costume you grabbed. The cheap angel wings are too tight, the elastic straps digging into your underarms. The halo bobs precariously on your head with every movement, and you’re half tempted to just take them off and shove them in a bin. 

“Yes, actually.” You say, turning to the Frankenstein that has saddled up to you at the crowded bar. “It means I have to listen to cheesy pickup lines all night.” 

You ignore the jeers of Frankenstein’s friends as you turn back to your drink, casting your gaze around the bar again. You’re just here to numb the sting of a particularly awful day at work, and nothing more. 

At least, until your gaze lands on them again. 

In the back of the bar in a booth just barely visible, they are seated. You’ve been eyeing them since you first caught a glimpse, almost drawn to them in a magnetic haze. You can’t help but look, even if you run the risk of being caught staring. You have yet to be so unlucky, as their attention seems to be on each other the most. 

It’s not fair how beautiful some people are. How blessed others can be with good genetics and decent bone structure. The two at the back of the bar may as well be models. 

They’re...beautiful.

The one with the mohawk is all playful grins and boisterous laughter. There’s a roughness to him, more handsy than the other one, even as his bright blue eyes scan the bar occasionally. The other is softer with near perfect skin, short cropped curls, and the most dazzling smile you think you’ve ever seen. That smile still holds a teasing tilt to it though, but he’s not as blatant with it as mohawk. 

The devil horns on his head don’t fit him. He should be the one dressed as the angel. 

They’re both wearing cheesy devil horns and you suppose the matching tails. There’s a cheap plastic pitchfork leaned against the booth next to mohawk. The look fits him perfectly with his devilish grin, though you suppose the devil is supposed to be beautiful, so perhaps it does fit his partner as well. 

You knew they were together as soon as you laid eyes on them. It’s not hard to tell. How close they sit, the way lips brush ears when they lean in to whisper. Smirks cocking lips in upwards turns as hands move under the table. They’re a beautiful couple. Far out of your league. 

Yet you can’t help but imagine it. Screw the angel and devil on your shoulders, you want two devils. One in front, one in back. You can almost imagine the heat their bodies give off, the push of solid muscle on each side, sandwiching you between them. 

Your teeth sink into your lip at the idea. 

You turn your gaze back to them, nearly jumping as you meet a pair of bright blue eyes. You’re shocked for a moment, not expecting him to be looking right at you. His eyes have passed over you a number of times as he’s looked around the bar, but this is the first time he’s ever looked at you. There’s no mistake. He’s not looking at anyone else. His eyes are locked on yours, almost as if he had read your mind, seen your inner thoughts about the two of them. 

Something holds you there, the magnetic energy that had drawn you to them strengthening. Heat pulses between your thighs as mohawk’s tongue darts out wetting his bottom lip. Those lips lift in a smirk and suddenly the spell is broken. 

You whip back around to face the bar, cheeks blazing. The halo on top of your head bobs at the sudden movement, nearly pulling the headband from your head. You steady it with a hand, taking a deep breath. Shaky fingers curl around your drink and you down the rest of it, ignoring the burning in your throat from the strong liquor. 

Of course eventually you’d get caught staring. It’s not like you were being very inconspicuous, out here eyeballing them blatantly. 

“Can I get you another?” 

The voice makes you jump, the empty glass in your hand nearly clattering onto the bar. Your head whips around, eyes widening as you stare at the angel before you. Well...devil before you.

He’s even more beautiful up close. His skin is perfect aside from the scar on his cheek. His eyes are deep brown, and the longer you stare at them, the more you feel like you’re sinking into their depths. You get a firsthand look at that dazzling smile as he flashes one at you, showing off perfect white teeth. 

There’s an edge to that smile, though, something in the back of your mind starting to itch. 

“Can I buy you another round?” He asks again in that smooth, honeyed tone. It’s captivating, almost floating straight into your ears like a song. 

He’s staring at you, waiting patiently for your response. You clear your throat, nodding before you can even think about it. “Y-Yeah. I could go for another.” Your hand reaches up, steadying the halo again as it bobs back and forth. 

His eyes watch your hand for a moment before he grins, dropping his gaze back to yours. He flags the bartender, giving him your order. You’re too busy staring at him, enraptured by his beauty to wonder how he knew what you were drinking. 

“Would it be too cliche to ask what a pretty angel like you is doing here alone?” He asks, leaning against the side of the bar, blocking you from the werewolf next to you that had been eyeing you as you stared across the bar. 

Your face warms, a laugh leaving your lips. “A little maybe.” You should stop there. “Getting some stress relief from that 9 to 5 grind.” The words leave your lips before you can stop them. You’ve lost complete control of your body and your mind in his presence. 

Something is wrong. 

Alarm bells go off in the back of your mind as he turns to the bartender. He slips a note across the bar, telling the bartender to keep the change. You had glimpsed it before it disappeared in the bartender’s hand. It was far more than two drinks would cost. 

The bad feeling disappears from your mind as he turns back to face you, both of your drinks in hand. “Why don’t you come join us?” 

Say no! 

You nod, almost feeling like you’re in a trance. “Yeah, okay.” 

He grins, his eyes flashing with something too fast for you to tell what it is. “Come on.” He motions with his head. 

You slide off the bar stool, the two words almost feeling like a final signature on a contract, sealing your fate for the evening. 

You won’t be leaving alone. 

Your feet move automatically as you follow him across the bar to the booth where the other is still sitting. A tingle runs down your spine as he continues to stare at you. You feel almost like prey being stared down by a hungry predator. 

Perhaps you are the prey. The angel caught between the claws of a devil.

You slide into the booth without even having to be told to, your body still moving automatically as you wind up between the two. Your drink is set down in front of you, and you don’t bother to notice how the one in front of mohawk hasn’t been touched. 

“Aren’t ye a bonnie little thing.” Mohawk says, draping his arm across the back of the booth. “Call me Johnny. That’s Kyle.” He says, nodding to the one on the other side of you. 

You tell him your name, still feeling like you’re in a daze, trapped under his sharp blue gaze. Your wings move slightly, his fingers playing with the feathers strapped to your back. It feels almost ironic being trapped between them. 

You certainly won’t be feeling much like an angel by the time the night is over. 

“Saw ye lookin�� from the bar.” He continues, a smirk playing on his lips. It sends a shiver down your spine, but you can’t tell why. There’s something dangerous in there, some sort of threat raising alarm bells in the back of your mind. “Pretty little angel hoping to catch the attention of a couple of devils, huh?” He adjusts the twisted elastic strap of your wings. It makes your stomach clench, having his hand so close to you, his knuckles brushing against the side of your breast. 

Something feels off, some primal part of your brain screaming, but you can’t quite hear what it’s saying. You’re too caught up in his magnetic presence to care about much else.  

“Like what ye see, angel?” He asks. 

You nod, still caught under his gaze. Your brain feels foggy, like you’re slipping into a daze. For a moment you panic that someone might have drugged your drink, that Kyle might have slipped something in while you weren’t looking. It’s easily done. All it takes is a second and you let him carry the drink all the way from the bar to the table. 

Hands turn you around, the hazy fog disappearing as you meet Kyle’s brown eyes. Sudden clarity washes over you as you’re turned away from Johnny, almost as if he had been holding you under a spell. There’s still a faint buzzing in the back of your mind as you stare at Kyle and his soft grin. It’s so soft and comforting compared to Johnny’s intensity. 

“Such a pretty thing.” Kyle says, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is electric as his fingers brush against you, your skin tingling all the way down to your toes and he’s barely touched you. He adjusts your halo as it wobbles, still holding your gaze. 

“Been watching ye since you walked in.” Johnny says, suddenly closer behind you, his breath warm on the back of your neck. 

You know that’s not true. 

You don’t care. 

“Knew ye were watchin’ us.” Johnny continues, his lips brushing the back of your ear. “Knew ye were interested.” He chuckles. “A little angel interested in a couple devils.”

A shudder runs through you as he presses a kiss to the skin behind your ear. His lips are warm, almost hot against your skin. 

You feel warm again, your mind starting to go hazy as Johnny’s lips press soft kisses against your skin. Kyle’s hand drops to your thigh, fingers trailing up your jeans. You almost wish he’d slip that hand between your thighs, but instead he skirts it around to the outside, trailing those fingers up to your hip. 

A couple devils indeed. 

“Well?” Kyle asks, snapping you back into awareness. Johnny is pressed fully against your back, now his lips almost lazily brushing your skin. “Are you interested?” 

Say no. 

Some deep part of your brain is screaming, sounding off all the alarms and raising all the flags, yet you can’t bring yourself to listen to it, much less care. You’re in too deep and the only way out is to go deeper. 

You’re not sure you want to stop. 

You nod, your lips parting as Johnny presses a searing kiss to your skin. 

“Need ye to say it, hen.” Johnny says, his hand closing around your side. 

“Yes.” You breathe. The words feel like the fall of a gavel, the stamp of approval on that contract you signed by agreeing to join them in the booth. You’ve sealed your fate for the night. 

There’s no going back now. 

“Good.” Kyle says, leaning forward to kiss you. 

His lips are soft, incredibly soft as they press against yours. He tastes like liquor, whatever sweet cocktail he had been sipping on. A quiet sound leaves your lips as his tongue presses into your mouth, his hand reaching up to grip your chin. You’re lost in the kiss, mind going blank as your body begins to tingle. Your panties are quickly dampening, the fabric sticking to your skin. Another hand drags up your leg, and you begin to curse your decision to wear pants. Who wears pants to a bar? 

Someone who didn’t expect to pick up anyone tonight. 

Or, well...get picked up. 

Johnny’s hand squeezes your thigh, his chuckle vibrating against your back. “Gettin’ her all worked up.” He presses his face against your neck, Kyle tilting your head so he has more room. “Can almost taste it.” 

His lips brush the side of your neck, his hand trailing higher on your leg. For a moment you hope he’ll take pity on you and slip it between your thighs, but instead he slides it higher, slipping it under your shirt. 

You pull away from Kyle’s lips as Johnny’s warm hand meets your skin. It’s electric, his touch like fire against your body. Your head tilts back against his shoulder, a moan slipping from your lips as your pussy begins to throb. Johnny chuckles again, Kyle’s mouth moving to your neck. One of your hands grips the edge of the table as Johnny’s fingers brush the skin of your stomach, holding on for dear life. 

All he’s doing is touching your skin. What is it going to feel like when he finally sinks his fingers between your legs?

You let out another moan as his hand slips higher, skirting dangerously close to your breasts. Reality slams back into you for a moment. Sure, you might be tucked in a back corner of the bar, but there’s still people around you. You’re still in a public place. You cast a nervous glance around the bar as Johnny’s hand cups your breast under your shirt. 

No one is looking at you. 

It’s almost like they can’t see the three of you at all. 

“I think she’s ready.” Johnny says, pulling his face from your neck as his hand squeezes your breast through your bra. 

Kyle hums, pressing one last searing kiss to your throat before he pulls his head away. “I think you’re right.” 

“C’mon kitten. Let’s go somewhere more private.” Johnny all but growls in your ear. 

You don’t remember the taxi ride home. You don’t remember getting up the stairs to your apartment or opening the door. You don’t remember telling them where you live at all. 

They’re on you as soon as you reach your bedroom, sandwiching you between them again. Johnny in the back, Kyle in front. 

You don’t remember telling them where your bedroom is. 

“Look at her.” Kyle coos, holding your jaw in his hand. His thigh is pressed between your legs, the seam of your jeans pushing deliciously against your throbbing slit as you grind against his leg. 

“Needy little thing.” Johnny groans, his hips grinding against your ass. 

“Could say the same about you.” Kyle smirks, his hand sliding down to your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds it there, solidifying the silent agreement. 

They’re in charge. 

You’re just along for the ride. 

“Want to taste her.” Kyle groans against your lips, his thigh pushing harder against your clothed pussy. 

“Always so impatient.” Johnny says, undoing the button and zipper on your pants. “Yer in for a treat, hen.” 

Your feet leave the floor as Johnny picks you up far too easily. You drop on your bed, the mattress creaking as you bounce on it. His hands curl around the waistband of your jeans, tugging them down your legs in one pull. He spreads your legs apart, staring down at your panties. They’re nothing special, certainly nothing you’d wear if you had been expecting something like this. 

You just went in for a quick drink.

Now look at you. 

“Would ye fuckin’ look at that.” Johnny says, whistling quietly as he stares at the damp spot on your panties. 

“I think you were right.” Kyle says, resting his chin on Johnny’s shoulder, staring down at you as well. “She is ready.” 

“Fuck.” Johnny curses, reaching down to tug your panties off too. You suddenly feel exposed, spread open before them. It’s been a long time since you’ve brought a stranger home from the bar, much less two. 

“She’s thinking too much.” Kyle says, pushing Johnny to the side so he can kneel down in front of you. He tugs your hips until they rest right on the edge of the bed, tossing your legs over his shoulders. The halo on your head shifts at the movement, nearly coming off. You’re still wearing your costume. 

So are they. 

“Then ye best fix that.” Johnny says, pulling his shirt over his head. 

You want to stare at his exposed skin, but you’re distracted as Kyle’s tongue drags through your folds. He knows what he’s doing, applying just enough pressure to make your pussy clench. No time is wasted as he dives right in, his mouth closing over your clit as he slurps at your drenched pussy. He’s like a starving man, pushing his tongue into your hole before licking his way back up to your clit, tasting every inch of you that he can. It’s like only you can satiate him and his need, his hands curling around your thighs to keep you pressed up against his face with no fear of suffocation or drowning. That’s a good thing, because with the way you’re gushing on his face, that may be an actual fear. 

The bed dips as Johnny kneels behind you, crawling up so his knees are beside your head. You tilt your head back, expecting a cock in your face but instead you’re surprised to find him still in his briefs. He’s hard and bulging through the fabric, but still covered nonetheless. His hands land on your chest, slowly dragging down to your breasts. He palms them over your shirt, his thumbs circling over your nipples through the fabric. 

“Johnny loves a good pair of tits.” Kyle says, pulling away for just a moment before his lips wrap around your clit again. 

Your hips jerk, another moan leaving your lips as Kyle gets back to work. Johnny finally relieves you of the angel wings, pulling the elastic down your arms before tossing the cheap cardboard and feathers to the side. His hands slide over your breasts again before trailing downward to the bottom of your shirt. His fingers curl around the fabric, yanking it up, somehow managing to pull your bra with it. Your halo comes off with your shirt and you half expect it to hit the floor with the wings, but instead Johnny pushes it back onto your head. Your shirt and bra get tossed to the floor with the rest of your clothes. 

You’re the only one fully naked, and for some reason that leaves you feeling very exposed. 

You don’t get much of a chance to dwell on that tickling still itching in the back of your mind as Johnny’s hands brush your skin again, his palms cupping your breasts. He leans over you, a set of dog tags hanging in your face. You stare up at them as they dangle over you, swinging back and forth as Johnny massages your breasts. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He groans, squeezing them gently. 

You glance down, just catching the look Kyle gives him as he licks another line up your slit. 

A yelp leaves your lips as Johnny’s fingers tug on your nipple, a yelp of surprise more than pain. It feels good, something you’ve never been able to feel there before. Then again, everything feels good right now. 

They play your body like an instrument, Johnny teasing your breasts while Kyle licks and sucks on your pussy. They’re so intune with each other, Johnny’s fingers almost a mirror of Kyle’s mouth. It’s almost eerie how they intuitively seem to know what the other is doing, and how to make you feel the most pleasure. 

They’ve done this before. 

Your slick is soaking your comforter but you don’t care, too busy being caught up in the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You’re just getting started and already your toes are curling, heels digging into Kyle’s back as you get closer and closer to the edge. You’ve never felt this way with anyone else, an energy thrumming beneath your skin. You feel electric, you feel alive. 

“Gonna cum!” You gasp, heels digging harder into Kyle’s back. He offers no complaint, sucking harder on your clit. 

Johnny tugs on your nipples at the same time, intensifying the sensation as your back arches, cumming all over Kyle’s face. He licks up every last drop, pushing you almost to the point of overstimulation. It’s burning deep within you, your fingers curling around the comforter as you pant, sweat starting to bead on your skin. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. 

He finally gives you some relief, pulling away from your pussy before you can reach that point of the uncomfortable sensation becoming pleasurable again. It was right there, right on the edge but you’re denied that feeling as he sits back on his heels. His face is shiny with your slick as he lets your trembling legs drop so they’re hanging over the side of the bed. You can’t move, far too dizzy with pleasure still from your first orgasm. 

It’s only the first and you’re already feeling almost drunk on the sensation. 

“Good?” Kyle asks, pushing himself up to stand. 

You nod, still breathless. “Yeah. Yeah it was.” 

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips for a moment. “Taste good.” He licks his lips. “Sweet like sugar.” 

“I want a taste.” Johnny says, approaching Kyle. 

For a moment you think he’s going to dip down between your legs next, but instead his hand closes around the back of Kyle’s neck, pulling his face close. Johnny’s tongue licks at Kyle’s skin, lapping at your shiny juices still coating his face. Kyle offers no complaint, his lips parted as Johnny licks him. It ends in a kiss, all tongues and teeth as their bodies press tightly together. Your toes curl again, pussy throbbing at the sight of them together. 

You could probably get off just watching them together. 

Kyle’s hands slide down Johnny’s sides to his ass, pulling their bodies closer. They grind against each other, Johnny almost whining into Kyle’s mouth. You’re more than happy to watch them together, leaning up on your elbows so you can see them better. 

“We’re neglecting our date.” Kyle says against Johnny’s lips. 

“That’s not very kind of us.” Johnny responds, pressing another searing kiss to Kyle’s lips before they turn to look at you. 

You gulp, suddenly feeling very small under their gaze as they stare at you like two hungry predators. Excitement thrums under your skin at the promises their eyes hold. The foreplay was exactly that, a warm up for what is to come. 

You’ll certainly be doing a lot of that tonight. 

They break apart, the bulges between their legs prominent as they stand before you. 

“Tell us where ye want us, hen.” Johnny says, stepping up closer so he can drag his fingers over your thigh. Goosebumps form on your skin from the soft drag of his calloused fingers against the sensitive skin. 

Your eyes dart between them a couple times, your pussy fluttering at the ideas flashing through your head. 

One on each shoulder. 

“One in front, one in back.” You stutter out, another rush of arousal coursing through you. 

“Fuck yes!” Johnny cheers, pulling away from you to drop his briefs instantly. 

“You just made his night, love.” Kyle grins, face still shiny from a mix of your cum and Johnny’s saliva. 

Johnny’s briefs land somewhere as Kyle begins to undress, pulling his shirt over his head. You take the opportunity to truly look at them. They’re both fit and muscular, Johnny thicker and broader than Kyle’s lean figure. Kyle’s muscles flex as he reaches down, undoing his belt and jeans, giving you a good look at his abs. You lick your lips, watching his pants fall and then his briefs. 

Both of them are still wearing their devil horns, but neither of them make a move to take them off. 

“Lube?” Johnny asks. 

“Drawer.” You say, pointing with your toes towards the dresser. 

Johnny opens the top drawer, letting out a groan when he sees your panties. 

“You’re going to lose a pair.” Kyle says, maneuvering you on the bed. He’s finally naked, cock hanging heavy between his legs. He’s almost perfectly built, thicker than he is long with a little curve. 

Your pussy gushes at the sight of him. 

He’s perfect. 

He gives you a grin, something shivering down your spine as you stare at him. Warning bells are going off in your head, but they’re too drowned out by the need pulsing in your brain. Kyle lays himself out on the bed, fisting his cock in his hand. He relaxes back against the pillows, slowly pumping his cock as he stares at you with lidded eyes. You kneel between his legs, batting his hand away so you can wrap yours around his length. You lean down, dropping a glob of spit onto the tip of his cock before spreading it on his skin with your hand to lessen the friction. 

You meet his gaze again, a shiver running down your spine as you find yourself captivated in those deep brown eyes. They look almost black in the light of the lamp on your desk behind you. They opted for that light instead of the overhead one. You don’t think too much about it. You always hate the bright fluorescent overhead light anyway. 

The bed dips behind you as Johnny kneels on the mattress, his hands maneuvering you so you’re on your knees, your ass in the air. His hands smooth over your ass as you continue lazily pumping Kyle’s cock. The cool drip of lube on your ass makes you jump, your hand squeezing around Kyle for a moment. He lets out a groan, his head thumping back against the headboard. You keep that pressure as Johnny’s finger circles your hole, spreading the lube around the tight ring of muscle. 

“Fuck,” you breathe, trying not to squeeze your hand any tighter around Kyle’s cock as Johnny pushes the tip of his finger past that ring of muscle. More lube hits your ass as his finger sinks deeper and deeper in. 

You’re going to need more than one finger, from the glimpse you caught of his cock. 

You close your lips around Kyle’s tip as Johnny continues to work you open on his fingers, pushing a second one in with more lube. He’s cautious and gentle, something you wouldn’t have expected from such an eager man. 

Just the fact he’s even prepping you is shocking enough. Then again, they seem more than eager to be the ones giving you pleasure over themselves. 

“Ye like that?” He groans, pushing his fingers into your hole. “Feel good?” 

“Mhm.” You moan around Kyle’s cock, pushing back against his hand as he pushes in a third finger. 

Your pussy continues to drip, your entire body clenching around his fingers as he sinks them in as deep as he can. You take Kyle as deep as you can into your mouth, his back arching up off your pillows as he moans. It’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard, like angels singing. 

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny groans. He pulls his free before slapping a hand down on your ass. “Go sit on Kyle’s cock for me.” 

You release Kyle’s cock, licking your lips before doing what you’re told. You scramble up over Kyle’s hips eagerly, taking his cock in your hand again. 

“Hi, love.” He grins up at you. 

You can only let out a groan in response as you line his cock up, slowly lowering yourself onto him. He’s perfect, stretching you open deliciously. It burns a bit, but you don’t care as you continue to work him into your dripping pussy. Your legs are shaking already by the time you’re seated completely on him, your hands pressing against his lower stomach to keep yourself upright. He’s solid under your hands, but his skin is warm, almost hot under your touch. 

He’s still staring up at you with those lidded eyes, his hands sliding to your thighs. “Good girl.” He grunts as you squeeze around him, his fingers digging into your thighs like he’s trying to hold himself back. 

Maybe he is. 

Johnny’s hand pushes between your shoulder blades, bending you down so you’re resting against Kyle’s chest. It moves his cock inside of you, a breathy moan leaving your lips at the change in position. Kyle releases his grip on your thighs, instead lifting his arms to wrap around your back. It feels intimate, the way he holds you. Far too intimate for just a one night stand. 

Your fingers lift to brush the dog tags around Kyle’s neck. He’s wearing them too, the metal shockingly cold despite the furnace-like warmth of his body. You can’t read what’s on them in the dim light, but you don’t really care to know at the moment. 

Johnny’s hand slides down your spine, smearing lube across your skin but you don’t care. It’s the cool drip of more lube on your ass that pulls you from your daze, the bottle snapping shut before hitting the bed somewhere beside you. Something thicker than fingers presses against your hole, your body clenching in anticipation. Kyle lets out a groan, his hips pushing up against yours as you squeeze around him again. 

“Relax for me.” Johnny groans, pushing the tip of his cock against your hole. 

You let out a long breath, willing your body to relax as much as you can. Johnny’s hand presses against the base of your spine, Kyle’s arms still holding you against his chest. His lips press against your forehead, something tingling against Johnny’s hand as you find yourself relaxing more and more. 

A breathy moan leaves your lips as the head of his cock presses into your ass, stretching you despite the prep he’d given you. He’s so thick, almost spearing you open as he rocks his hips, pushing more and more of his cock into your tight ass. Kyle stays still, holding your body as Johnny continues to work his way in. He’s so thick you can feel every inch of Kyle’s cock inside of your pussy. You can’t do anything but lay there and moan in pleasure from the mix of sensations. 

There’s a moment of silence, a deep breath as Johnny’s hips meet your ass. You’ve never been quite so full before, not like this, not so perfectly. They’re perfect, fitting into you like a glove, hitting every spot you could ever want them to. 

It’s almost too perfect. 

The thought is erased from your mind as Johnny begins to rock his hips, Kyle’s arms tightening around you as you begin to move against his chest. 

“Fucking christ.” Johnny breathes as you squeeze around him, pussy clenching as Kyle begins to move under you. 

“Bloody hell, love.” Kyle groans, pushing his hips up into yours, finding the rhythm of pushing in as Johnny pulls out. 

Your nails bite into the skin of his chest as the pleasure continues to build. You were worked up before they stuck their cocks in you, and now having them both inside of you is almost too much. 

Johnny bends over your back, changing the position of his thrusts. It pushes his cock against Kyle’s inside of you, pushing Kyle against that spot, his cock dragging against it with every movement of his hips. Johnny’s dog tags drag across your skin as he thrusts into you, the metal cool despite the moist heat of your bodies beginning to warm the room. Goosebumps erupt on your skin from the dual sensations, the warmth of their bodies, the cold of the metal against your back, the push and pull of their hips. It’s all so perfect. 

They do the work for you, playing your body like an instrument again with that uncanny understanding of each other. Kyle’s cock pushes in as Johnny’s pulls out, keeping you on the precipice of pleasure as they fill you completely. You’re rendered helpless as you lay there, unable to do anything but moan as your second orgasm of the night continues to build. Your entire body is trembling and twitching, all of your weight resting entirely on Kyle, but he offers no complaint. 

It doesn’t seem to bother him at all. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You squeal as Johnny picks up the pace, thrusting into you so hard your headboard begins to knock against the wall. Kyle’s arms tighten around you, holding you still and using you for leverage as he thrusts up into you. “Please, please, please...” You repeat it like a mantra, your entire body on fire with pleasure. 

Something tickles in the back of your mind, getting stronger and stronger the more you get closer to your orgasm. You can’t place it, you don’t care to, as your body writhes with pleasure. 

“That’s it.” Johnny groans, “Fucking take it!” 

“Gonna cum for us?” Kyle grunts, still thrusting up into you. “Gonna give it to us?” 

“Yes! Yes!” You cry, your back arching as you push yourself up against Kyle’s chest. 

The light behind you on your desk casts your shadows along the wall behind the bed. Your eyes watch the way they move and dance as you push yourself up so your back is against Johnny’s chest. Kyle’s arms drop from around you as you push yourself back, the new angle nearly blinding you with pleasure. 

The halo still on your head rocks forward and backward almost violently as Johnny continues to drive his hips against your ass. His arms wrap around you, holding you up against his chest. 

Perhaps it’s the pleasure numbing your mind, but you swear the room starts to get darker, the shadows lengthening as you stare at the dancing shadows on the wall. Johnny’s hand reaches up, tugging the halo from your head, letting it fall to the floor. 

You’re frozen there, captivated as his shadow almost seems to get bigger, the fake horns still on his head starting to lengthen and twist. Something unfurls from his back, spreading across the wall as the shadows continue to press inward around you. 

Wings. They look like wings. 

White hot pleasure blinds you as Johnny pushes your face down into Kyle’s shoulder, his own body folding over your back. You’re sandwiched between them, unable to do anything but take the pleasure they’re bringing you. Your clit drags against Kyle’s stomach as he gives over control to Johnny, letting Johnny’s thrusts rock you on his cock. Your hand curls around Kyle’s dog tags, the metal still somehow cold against your fingers. They feel bigger now, thicker and wider than what they had looked like. 

No, there’s not two of them anymore. 

It’s one pendant on the chain, some kind of pattern imprinted on the smooth metal. Your fingers trail over the smooth surface, tracing the raised lines. You can’t tell what it is, far too lost in pleasure to rationalize what is happening. Kyle’s hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it from his dog tags. He uses it to pull you up, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. Warmth floods your body at the press of his lips, your mind starting to go fuzzy. 

“That’s it.” Johnny groans, grinding against your ass. “Give it to us.” 

Your ears begin to ring as more and more pleasure builds, drool slipping out from your lips as you pull away from Kyle, your entire body tingling. There’s something coming, something building within you so strong you almost can’t take it. It’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s not coming fast enough. 

“Come on.” Johnny says, pushing himself up just slightly to drive his hips downward against your ass. 

You nearly let out a scream as the pleasure hits you all at once, fluid gushing out of you and soaking Kyle’s lower body. Your entire body writhes and shudders between them, the pleasure never seeming to end as Johnny continues thrusting almost violently against you. Kyle’s hands reach up, gripping your hips as he moans, his head falling back. You’re squeezing around them so tightly you’re shocked at how Johnny is still moving. 

“That’s it.” Johnny groans. “That’s it.” 

You feel like you’re floating, barely registering the way Johnny and Kyle kiss over your shoulder, groaning against each other’s lips. Your body twitches as you get further and further away, almost floating right out of your body. You’re exhausted, the energy and life draining right out of you as you milk their cocks of their own cum. It’s hot as it spurts inside of you, filling you up almost impossibly full. 

Kyle’s hand presses against the back of your head, his voice low in your ear. “Sleep.” 

You’re hungover. 

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes as you lay there on your stomach. Your head is throbbing, body weak as you groan in annoyance. You forgot to close the curtain last night. 

The sun is streaming in, warming your room. It smells like sex, your skin still sticky with sweat. Memories from the previous night begin to fill your mind as you come more and more into awareness. It barely feels real, almost like last night was a dream. Did you really catch the attention of those two beautiful men at the bar? Did you really bring them home and fuck them both? 

It feels like a dream, it might have been a dream. 

You crack your eyes open, letting out a groan. You are alone, the only remnant of the night before the scent of them still lingering in the air. They smelled good, sweet and musky, so strong you could almost taste it. They smelled good, even sweaty from the heat and exertion.

You can still feel their touch like a phantom left behind in your memory. The brush of their lips and fingers, Kyle’s head between your legs, the fullness of your body as they fucked you into one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. It was addicting. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to feel as satisfied as you did last night, even with the way your head is throbbing and your body feels drained of all energy.  

It was all so perfect. 

It must have been a dream. You had too much to drink and fell asleep dreaming about two perfect men fucking you to the point you couldn’t remember your own name. There’s no way two men were such perfect matches for you and for each other. Perfection doesn’t exist. 

You roll over onto your back, your limbs heavy with exhaustion. How long had the three of you gone last night? You can’t remember much past your first orgasm. You’re not even sure you remember your first orgasm. 

It must have been a dream. 

Something catches your eye as you roll over, tugging the blanket up around your chin. You squint through the blurriness and the haze of exhaustion, staring at your nightstand. peripheral vision

No, it wasn't a dream. 

It was very real. 

There's a set of dog tags sitting on your nightstand. 

To be notified about new fics, please follow HERE and turn on notifications

[obae-me]

Happy Birthday to my favorite boy who I love with my whole soul!

He's ostentatious, yes. It's hard to think otherwise with his title of Pride, his extravagant clothes, his dramatic entrances, and his peacock-like aura; always strutting about with his head held high and his metaphorical and oftentimes literal wings held out fluttering behind him.

So, it's easy to forget how much he loves simplicity. How he craves normalcy.

You'll fully admit you had misjudged him when his first birthday with you rolled around. Rumors forced visions of Diavolo putting a screeching halt over the whole kingdom, making everyone come out of their homes and business in droves just to celebrate. He'd have a limo or flying carriage take him to an exclusive five-star restaurant, drinking millennia old Demonus so expensive, one drop could have Mammon rolling in money for months. All the while decked up to the nines- the tens, even.

But, you quickly learned that those symbols of opulence were not what he wanted.

However, this year, you still found doubt clawing at your insides. Was this enough? His brothers assured you that what you all had planned was more than adequate, but it was still difficult to think so. You wanted to give him the world... Now you knew Diavolo's struggles firsthand when it came to the fallen angel.

After he had fallen asleep, you'd rolled over and disabled the timer on his phone. Mammon had already somehow snuck in and stolen Lucifer's alarm clock, eliminating his backup (which might already be sold at this point). He could sleep in now. Diavolo had already given Lucifer the day off, but old habits died hard, and everyone assumed he'd be up before he needed to.

The plan was set. He'd wake up to already-made coffee he could sip in bed before lumbering down to breakfast in his pajamas. There would be no arguing, the house would be clean, and everyone was ready to participate in a historical museum tour that was showcasing demon adaptations of human technologies. One of which was the first magical rendition of an assembly line.

Then you'd head out to have tea and snacks in the Royal Gardens. It would be just you, him, and Diavolo (with Barbatos serving of course) while the others set up a party at the House. The only ones attending would be family and close friends. It would be then that he opened presents, ate his favorite homemade dinner, and drank a little in the company of others while playing different games. Then while the night was fairly young, you'd offer to take him away.

As you rolled over in bed, listening to his light breathing as he slept soundly, you couldn't help but feel both nervous and excited for what you had planned for him. For months, you had tried scouting for the perfect gift. Was this...enough? It deviated from what you would normally plan to get him. It wasn't a cursed record or a set of cufflinks or a tie or anything like that. This year, you'd managed to find a music box. It played a lovely little tune that had the sort of melody that forced you to go quiet, chills running down your spine. But this wasn't just any music box. No. Under certain conditions, it would show the listener the memory that would make them the happiest in that moment. And the conditions were easy, one only needed to turn the winding key exactly six times.

Thinking about presenting it to him made you all giddy inside, knowing that he could use it whenever he felt particularly stressed...but also more anxiety allowed itself to flood your nerves. What if it had somehow broken in the spot you'd hidden the gift in?! Did you check it twice last night? Yes. But stranger things had happened in this house, broken things were actually quite common. So, you'd check on it again...just to be sure.

You eyed Lucifer as you slipped out of bed, keeping the mattress from bobbing too much as you tip-toed your way out of his room. Straight to the planetarium you went, assured by the youngest sibling that he'd keep it safe by shooing Lucifer out of the area if he got too close, which was so common already the eldest shouldn't get suspicious. Slipping your way into the room, you rushed over to the specific chair you had hid it behind. The ground was cold as you sat down on it, your legs crossed over each other as you sighed in relief as the intact music box was pulled into your lap.

"Might as well give it a test run," you muttered to no one but yourself as the key clicked six times. Music poured out into the room as you opened the lid. Mist seemed to shimmer a little in the air, a scene projected into the magic. Faint voices played into your mind, syllables almost twinkling in time with the notes.

"You worry too much." A familiar voice had you smile a bit sheepishly, an old memory of Lucifer shaking his head at you being the music box's memory of choice. "I've told you time and time again that you don't need to fret over impressing me, or whatever that silly word you said was." Ah, yes...you remembered this now...it was some time ago, worrying over some kind of RAD gala. Even now you weren't exactly sure what the specific thing you had panicked so grievously over was, but you had been so anxious over letting everyone down, especially the one who you held so close to your heart. In the image, Lucifer grabbed your face, looking so deeply into your eyes, it was as if he were reaching through the haze to assure you all over again. "And if I must, I will continue to tell you time and time and time again, even if my jaw must break from the strain. So take a breath, relax your shoulders, and remember that--"

"I love you," something echoed. You jumped, your arms pulling the music box close to your body instead of launching it in the air. You shut the lid as you glanced over your shoulder.

"L-Luci..."

The demon chuckled a bit as he tucked the fabric of his robe tighter against his body as he came up behind you, getting on his knees and resting his chin sleepily on your shoulder. "Should I be offended or pleased that you're sneaking off in the middle of the night to meet up with another me?"

You audibly sighed. So he saw... "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Answering a question with a question are we?" As he mused he wrapped his arms around your torso.

"Answering my question to your question with another question?" you quipped right back.

Even without fully seeing him you could feel his eyes roll. He gave you a squeeze and pressed his cheek right next to yours. "Am I to assume...perhaps rather selfishly...if all the secrecy is to imply that this interesting little thing is mine?"

A long pause settled between you. Was this...a bit of disappointment bubbling inside you? "It was supposed to be a surprise..."

If anyone knew the tragedy of derailed plans, it would be him. He hummed in apologetic understanding. "I can pretend like I didn't see it."

That actually had you chuckle a bit, shaking your head. You scooted on the floor to turn around to face him. Grabbing one of his hands, you placed the gift inside his palm. "Happy birthday, Lucifer. May this uplift you in those darker moments when I can't be there. May your birthday this year add to the pool of happy memories to choose from. May I be by your side for another birthday, and the birthday after that, and so many more to come." You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, chuckling at his slightly wild bed-hair that you were just now getting a good look at.

He went a bit silent, and you could've sworn as his eyes shut for a moment, a little bit of color came to his cheeks. He set your gift off to the side of himself as his arms wrapped around you once more, pulling you into a tight embrace. "And may I get to tell you time and time and time and time again...how much I love you."

[vixensp1ce]

praise with hsr

fem!reader, rest under the cut

sunday

"go~od girl," sunday purrs, stroking your hair. "taking me so good... mm, yes, right there..."

he guides you in bobbing your head up and down his dick. you kneel before him, your eyes watery with tears each time his tip nudges the back of your throat.

"faster now, yeah? you can take it, i know you can..." he holds your head, gently wiping away the tears with a thumb, then starts thrusting.

you whine and whimper, struggling on instinct, which only serves to please sunday more. he throws his head back, his wings fluttering in pleasure, faster and faster.

"'m gonna cum, angel, so good, you're so go- ah-"

his hips jerk up, forcing his tip into your throat and spilling his hot seed into your mouth. your nose fills with his scent and you can't help but moan around him, lashes fluttering.

you feel him go soft, panting. sunday lets go of your head and pulls out, and you swallow obediently without him telling you to.

"good girl," he whispers, pulling you up onto his lap. "i'll give you a reward..."

aventurine

"trust me," he murmurs in your ear. he blows warm breath over the sensitive flesh behind your ear, purring when you gasp out a moan. "good... just like that."

you can't see him and every nerve ending sparkles because of it. you're tense with anticipation, hearing the sheets rustle and the bed shift, but you can't see him, can't touch him with your hands bound behind your back.

"ven," you plea, though you're not sure what you're pleading for.

he shushes you, kissing the back of your neck, trailing featherlight kisses all the way down your spine, catching you by your hips when he bites down and you lurch forward.

"behave," he purrs teasingly, and you can feel the cool roughness of his gloves spread your inner lips with a wet sound. "aww, did someone miss me?"

you brace your elbows against the pillow, biting back a sound of pleasure as his tip nudges you open, then turn back in confusion when he stops.

long fingers catch your jaw, turning your head forward and pressing onto your tongue so your mouth opens.

"be good for me," he coos. "i want to hear you, darling, every sound... mmmh... like that..."

he slides in a little more. your only warning is hearing his breathing, before he slams into you, sheathing himself fully.

"ven!" a cry of his name isn't enough to cover up his shuddering breath.

"good girl," he sighs. "such pretty sounds for me..."

blade

even praising you he manages to be mean and condescending. your eyes are filled with tears, but not because of his words; you're overstimulated, exhausted, and blade shows no signs of letting up.

"sweet thing," he coos, brushing away a tear with his thumb. "you can take it, hm? just cum one more time. one more."

he fucks you steadily, not fast enough for you to cum but certainly enough for you to feel every inch of his throbbing, hot dick.

"bl~ade," you moan brokenly. "blade- ah, mmph-"

"sweetheart." he rubs a finger over your bruised lips, letting you taste yourself. "use your words."

"please, blade, fuck me- ah, fuck, fuck, fuck-"

he must have been waiting for you to say just that, because he instantly picks up the pace, thrusting twice as quickly as before. you're left babbling nonsense again, chanting words every time he thrusts into you and kisses your sensitive, gummy spot.

[lover-222]

Birthday Boy (JF)

warning: smut 18+

…

y/n had everything planned, she had went earlier in the day to victoria secret. she had found a perfect white lingerie set that she knew joão would love. it was his birthday so she wanted him to feel special. she set lit candles in their room and dimmed the lights.

she took a shower and lathered on her strawberry scented shampoo, she knew that joão secretly loved it. after her shower she dried and styled her hair. y/n already had her lingerie laid out on the bed, all she had to do was put on a little bit of makeup.

she sat down in font of her vanity and started her makeup. she did a simple small wing liner, waterproof mascara, highlighter, and lipstick. after that she changed into her lingerie set, it was a bit cold in their house so she also put on one of joão's white dress shirts that fit her big. she fixed their room since she knew joão was about to come home from training.

she lit the last candle, then heard the door open. he wore grey sweatpants and a white hoodie, his hair was messily done. joão looked beautiful as ever. he looked for y/n, until he spotted her in the entrance of their bedroom.

"hi my angel, what a pretty set you have on" he smirked as he looked her up and down; he wanted to devour her whole.

he wrapped his arms around her body and played with one of her long strands of hair.

"i heard it was a special boys' birthday today" she told him while looking up at his doe eyes. his brown eyes were a deeper shade of brown, lust filled his eyes. she took his hand and led him to their bed, she lightly pushed him on the bed, making him sit down.

joão took off his hoodie, leaving him completely shirtless. he reached out to y/n but she stopped him.

"no no no, not yet." she said as she started to teasingly take of the white dress shirt.

she looked absolutely beautiful to joão, her long black hair was flowy and soft. the white lingerie set hugged her figure, she looked like a doll; small and delicate.

y/n got on top of him making sure to give him small kisses on his abdomen, earning whines from the boy. she trailed kisses all the way to his collarbones, she bit him not too hard but enough to leave a mark. y/n kissed his neck while also leaving a couple of hickey's. joão was a mess under, his eyes were closed and he whined from the simple pleasure.

he was growing hard under her, "fuck my love you're teasing me".

"no i'm taking my time with you pretty boy, i like the way you moan for me" she teased him as she slightly grinded on his hard clothed cock.

y/n attacked his lips, she started making out with him. joão's hands trailed all over body but they settled on her ass. while y/n played and pulled his hair, making him groan.

she pulled away and looked at him, his cheeks were scarlet red and his lips were plump; the most beautiful sight ever. joão sat straight and leaned back on the headboard. he watched y/n's every move, she moved down and pulled down his sweatpants along with his boxers.

she kissed his thighs along with his cock, y/n looked up at him. he'd shut his eyes with the amount of teasing that y/n was doing.

"baby please please" joão whined.

"patience my love" she answered.

she took his cock in her hand and started licking it slowly. she kitty licked his tip and then would slowly twirl her tongue over his slit, that was already covered with precum. she took him into her mouth, while joão reached down to her head and grabbed her hair making a ponytail. he bobbed her head up and down, making her deepthroat him. her eyes were teary eyed but joão loved watching her taking him all in her mouth.

joão felt euphoric in her mouth, he was so close to his climax. the way she gagged on him and continued to spit and suck on his cock turned him on even more. she never lost the eye contact with him, her big eyes looked up at him. watching him come undone and watching him cum was incredibly hot.

he came in her mouth, he took her hand and pulled her up, so she was sitting on top of him. joão's cum was on the corner of her mouth. he reached out and wiped it off with his thumb, then made her open her mouth. she then sucked off his cum off of his thumb while gently sucking on it. y/n looked at the boy who was paying close attention to what she was doing.

at this point y/n's lingerie was on the floor, he was taking her all in. she was divine to him, she was a goddess to him and would do anything to worship her; and that's exactly what he did. he gently bit one of her breast yet still sucking on it, and then would massage the other. he desired her so bad, he was eager to have her.

"tonight's about you baby, my birthday boy" she told him then kissed him again.

she sat on his cock, and started to ride him. he was in pure bliss, he loved every second of it. she looked absolutely beautiful on top of him. the way her moans would synch with his would raised the sexual tension. every thrust into her was filled with so much pleasure.

y/n was reaching her climax as was joão, he swiftly grabbed her and was now topping her. his thrust became sloppier as they were both reaching their high. they came together, and laid next to each other.

"fuck that was amazing babe, i love you" joão said as he kissed her.

"you're welcome birthday boy" she replied then smiled.

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

I wish you would write a fic where Xaden accidently confesses his love to Violet in a casual conversation

Sure, anon! Have a 1k fic!

(some housekeeping: I don't know what "casual conversation" means, and I wrote this on my phone at midnight, so any typos...you don't see them. Set during the latter half of Fourth Wing, post sex scene #1. I don't actually know what else you're supposed to put with fics on tumblr, but!! here she is! Full fic below the cut)

When Xaden Riorson knocks on your door and tells you he’s taking somewhere, you listen. 

At least, Violet listens. She looks at it like doing a favor to the wing: no one likes a grumpy wingleader, and by hanging out with him while he gets tipsy in Chantarra, she’s avoiding just that perilous situation. 

He’s definitely not grumpy now. Not as he sits, whiskey in hand, eyes on Violet’s throwing stance. Not earlier, either, as he’d covered her in his cloak and coaxed her down Basgiath’s halls. It wasn’t even a Chantarra weekend for the upperclassmen who were allowed to go. Violet had zero reason to be here, in this Chantarra pub with Xaden Riorson. Xaden had his own reasons, but he was keeping them close to his chest, like everything else. 

She cocks her hand back, then throws the dart at the board. A perfect bullseye, nestled between her four other throws. 

She appraises her own work with a smile, though she takes care to keep it slight. She doesn’t need to get braggy now. Still, her cheeks are already pink, and they only grow more so when she hears slow clapping coming from Xaden’s seat at the closest table. 

“Excellent work, Violence,” he tells her, somehow sounding smug on her behalf. Under his breath, he continues, “Excellent.” 

He swirls his whiskey. The amber catches the low pub light. Violet’s eyes track his hands as they stretch around the glass, the veins shifting while he raises it to his lips, the bobbing of his throat that signifies his swallow. 

His glass clanks against the table. It’s rickety and sticky and she can’t believe he’s sitting there. The cheap wood doesn’t look right with him beside it. 

“Go on,” he says. “Give me another show.” 

She scoffs, but even as she does so, her feet march towards the board. 

“You’re ridiculous,” she insists, plucking her darts free. “It’s now a show for you.” 

She spins on her heel and backs up from the board once more. Doing so means she catches a glimpse of Xaden’s face, the upturn of his lips. 

“Can’t I enjoy myself?” 

His voice is rich. He doesn’t slur his words, but something in their quality makes it clear to Violet that the alcohol is making him be more honest, even if only slightly. 

She averts her eyes to the board. Heart racing, she throws her first dart. Just shy of a bullseye. 

“This can’t be your idea of an enjoyable night, Riorson.” 

He shuffles in his seat. She shouldn’t look at him—she should keep her eyes glued to the board. She should perfectly plot her next throw. 

She finds him staring at her, brows raised. He’d been awaiting her attention. 

“Can’t I?” 

She scoffs, refocusing on the board. Her next throw is better, but she’s still setting herself up to encircle the bullseye instead of truly hitting it. 

“You can do whatever you want.” Another throw, this one closer. “I just didn’t think you’d like to sit around and watch me play darts.”

Her next throw is her best. With every second, she gets better. Closer. Her heart has not calmed even a fraction.

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have invited you.” He drums his fingers on the table Slowly, her eyes seek out the source of the sound, but Xaden makes a tsk-sound. “Finish your game, Violence. Let me see what you can do.” 

Her cheeks feel flushed beyond pink, and she hadn’t even had a sip to drink tonight. Xaden had offered—egregiously and at length—but she didn’t have a cent to her name, and she didn’t want to give the barkeep a good look at her hair. 

She throws her final two darts without further commentary. Finally, she gets her bullseye. 

She expects to hear Xaden’s voice. If not his voice, his applause, his raucous, ridiculous encouragement. But he’s silent, and because of that silence, she’s forced to look at him. 

He’s grinning, grinning at her. 

Her heart begins to seize in her chest. She feels it thrashing against her breast bone—it’s the only part of her that moves, that reacts in any discernible way. The rest of her is frozen.

Has she ever seen him grin? 

And suddenly, to top it all off, a chuckle slips through his lips. Her jaw drops, and he shakes his head, just as baffled as she is, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop laughing, and he doesn’t stop grinning. 

“What?” she demands “What is it?” 

“Nothing, Violence,” he insists, but she can hear the laughter in his voice, and the evidence is irrefutable. It can’t have been nothing. Not even close. “Go again. Let me watch.” 

She doesn’t go again. She approaches him, head held high, and orders him, “Tell me now.” 

His lips twist, but they stay upturned. She wants to glue her eyes to them, if not her own lips. She still remembers the searing burn of his kiss, how delicious that heat had been 

“I don’t think so, Violence.” He looks around at the pub behind her, the few patrons that line the stools. “Not really the time.” 

Fine, Violet thinks. She’ll make it the right time. 

She pulls out one of her knives from the sheaths at her ribs. A knife Xaden got her. Poetic justice, really. 

She slams it into the table, in the sliver of space between Xaden’s thumb and pointer finger. The blade sinks into the wood, splitting it. 

“You’ll tell me now.” 

Xaden only grins wider. His face practically glows with it, this foreign happiness. 

“You’re going to threaten me into telling you that I lo-”

His unfinished word hangs between them. Violet waits for those final two letters to come. She wants them out in the open so she can snatch at them, swallow them. 

He doesn’t give them to her. He stares at her face, lips parted. Xaden Riorson, who never makes a mistake. 

Of course, if he thinks that was a mistake, he’s completely and utterly wrong. 

Violet pounces on him. She bolsters herself with her dagger, but she doesn’t have to support herself for long. Her lips find Xaden’s and his arms find her waist, slotting her into the space between his legs. They kiss and kiss and kiss. She tastes his whiskey. He must taste her victory. 

When they part, it is only so that Violet can pant, “I am going to threaten you, actually.”  

She feels his laughter against her lips.

[dckweed]

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND, bob floyd

summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.

warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut, reader has anxiety!

this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.

this took quite a bit to get out huh? lol anyway send in requests for bob and sunny if you have any my loves!

series masterlist here, series playlist here, comment on part one for the taglist!

PART THREE: bagman. 

Purple and pink lights covered the dark stage, following your movements as you strode across it dressed in nothing but some white strappy heels with cute little cherries on them and a lacey red lingerie set. You had opted for a short wig that night, a blunt bob and in all honesty it made you feel like a whole new person as you stared out at the slightly crowded seating area next to the stage. Rowdy men were hollering already, slapping bills down onto the black top of the stage before you had even touched the pole yet, they were loving it. 

Music starts and you block out the crowd, moving your body to the beat as you do a routine you’ve been practicing in the couple of weeks you’ve been off, wanting to change up your dances for your regulars a little bit. You dance for nearly five songs, your new routine a big hit amongst the crowd and as you stride off of it, stopping to shake your ass here and there in front of who you deemed as deserving gentlemen, picking up handfuls of bills every time you did. The stage was absolutely covered in them, and you couldn’t have been more thrilled. You were fairly certain that there was enough her for you to be able to call it a night if you wanted to, you knew your boss wouldn’t mind if you went home early, he was still iffy about you coming in with a bruise still showing anyway (even though you perfectly covered it with makeup). A stage hand passes you with a big bag as you make your way off stage, the lights off as they go to clear up the money that you couldn’t grab. 

You were headed to the dressing room, needing a break after 5 songs but you’re stopped by your boss, Edwin. “You looked good out there Sunny,” He says an arm popping around your shoulder as the older gentlemen lead you away from the direction you were trying to go. You lean into him head on his shoulder. “Always a crowd pleaser, you are, you were missed during you time off.” 

You smile at his words, despite his hard appearance Edwin was actually a really kind man and he had taken you under his wing when you first came to town, had given you your job illegally even though you had just barely turned 21 and because of it you had grown close. If Bob hadn’t come to your aid the night that your pice of shit ex boyfriend had gone to town on you, you know that Edwin would have (even though he was in the middle of running the club) and he almost did when you called him the next day to tell him what happened. 

“I know it’s your first night back, and you wanted to take it easy,” He says, stopping you in the doorway just before the main floor of the club, where patrons were milling about as the stage hands finished clearing your set. “But you seemed to have caught the attention of one of those ship boys over there by the bar,” He points towards a group of them and you purse your lips, thanking god that none of them looked like Bobby from this angle. “Requested Ivy Wild for a private dance, told him you’re the boss when it comes to that..”

You sigh at the mention of being requested by name, looking back towards the dressing room. You weren’t sure how much you made from your stage appearance yet, not until you counted it, but you knew that if you did a half hour private dance that you’d walk away with three hundred at the least..you couldn’t say no to that kind of money. 

“I’ll take him, put him in room four.” You say, before turning on your heel to head towards the dressing room. “I’m gonna go freshen up real quick before I head in there.” 

The room is dark when you enter, nothing but a dim blue light around the ceiling to light up the room, casting shadows across the firm leather couches and the man lounging across them. You slink your way into the room, coy smile splaying across your lips. 

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing..” The man says, leaning back against the couch. He spreads his legs slightly as he does. He’s clad in dark jeans and a crisp white button up that is so tight you can practically see the outline of his abs through the fabric. You can’t see his face in the shadows but you can tell from his voice and the way he manspreads that he’s handsome, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little excited. “You gonna dance f’me?” 

If you listened close enough he even sounded a little bit like Bobby and for some reason, that made your face flush. “You gonna follow the rules pretty boy?” You flirt, moving your hips to the music that was playing softly in the room, standing just barely in front of him. “You can look but you can’t touch, got it?”

“Whatever you say, hot stuff..” He seems to sigh almost dreamily as you start putting on a show for him. 

You touch your body, letting your hands travel down it as you swing your hips to the beat, putting on a routine for him. Just as you’re about to give him a lap dance, ready to straddle your lean legs one either side of his thick thighs he reaches out for you, fingertips brushing the bare skin of your midriff. “Aht, Aht-” You say, pushing him back with your foot on his chest, your heel digging into the muscular expanse. “No touching, pretty boy..” 

“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me here..” 

When you leave the room fifteen minutes later, it’s with a self righteous smirk across your lips. You had made the man cum in his pants with your lap dance and you hadn’t even let him touch you, it was a rarity but you loved when it happened, it was quite the ego boost if you were being honest with yourself. You could have done without the three hundred and fifty that he had left for you and just rode the high of a stroked ego for the rest of the night, but you took it anyway and shoved it in the bag that the stage hands had left by your locker. You would count it out when you got home, you were ready to leave and you were positive you already made over a grand tonight, there was no need to stay other than to see to the other girls but they all seemed okay with themselves tonight. 

You poke your head into Edwin’s office and bid him goodbye on your way out, making your way to the employee parking lot afterwards where you parked your car, It’s a surprisingly short drive home given the time, and when you park your car on the side of the street outside of the building, you’re surprised to see Bob out, Cosie’s leash in hand. 

“Hey, Bobby!” You say cheerfully, hopping out of the car with your duffle bag and bag of cash in hand. He turns at hearing your voice, as though he was startled. 

“Sunny, you getting home early or late?” Yeah, the man earlier sounded almost exactly like him, you think and can’t help but smile. He holds the door open for you and lets you walk in ahead of him after you stop and stoop down to pet Cosie. 

“Early, told Edwin I wanted to take it easy..” You say, walking through the lobby of the building to the elevator with him. He hits the button for you too. You notice the way he looks at you when you mention Edwin and you remember that you never told him much about the club. “Edwin is the owner of the club, my boss..and he’s kind of like my dad in a way though thats a little weird to say because he sees me in lingerie all night..” You weren’t sure where the sudden rambling came from, perhaps it was a reaction to him putting his hand against your lower back to usher you into the elevator before him, or maybe it was the smell of his cologne that lingered in your nostrils but damn it made you feel nervous and giddy all at the same time. 

He hums as he punches the button for your guys’ floor, adjusting the leash to his other hand as Cosie rubs against your legs. You were still clad in your strappy heels, feeling too impatient to stop and take them off. He does the thing with his hand again to user you off of the elevator before him and you just about die on the spot, what is it with you? Was gentlemanly behavior really that big of a thing for you?

Within a few moments you’re at your door, his just a few steps farther than yours and he stops, holding your bag without a word as you shove your key into the lock and bully the door open. You open your mouth to say goodnight but find yourself saying something else entirely. “Do you wanna come in? Help me count all this maybe?” You hold up the bag of cash, and he glances down at it, soft smile on his handsome face. 

“Sure.” He finds himself saying, even though he has work in a few hours. You’re just so sweet with your damn eyes and flushed little cheeks that he can’t say no. 

The next few hours are filled with him sitting with you on your living room floor, sprawled out in front of the couch, piles of money in front of the both of you. You had gone and changed into a small pair of pajama shorts with little red hearts on them and a white tank top, but not before having him take photos of your heeled feet for you so you could post it on your instagram. 

“It’s almost four..” You whisper, your head leaned against his shoulder. You guys had stayed on the floor and you found yourself leaning against him as our eyes drooped, tired from you first day back at work but not wanting to fall asleep just yet. You listened to him tell you stories about his job, and you fell in love with how much he loved his job, how happy it made him. 

“You sleepy, Sunny?” He murmurs, that Montana accent thick. He turns his head to look down at you, almost wishing that he hadn’t because from this angle and in this lighting he could pretty much see through your shirt and it was all he could do not to pop a boner right here next to you at the sight of your pert nipples and supple tits. 

You hum in response, already on the cusp of unconsciousness. The last thing you remember is him shifting, his warm arm coming to wrap against your shoulder as if pulling him farther against him. 

By the time you wake the next morning, he’s long gone, though he’s left you in his hoodie that you don’t remember putting on and with Cosie. You can’t help but pout at his absence, having found yourself more comfortable with someone you were fake dating than anyone you had ever actually dated. You were surprised that you had fallen asleep, that you hadn’t woken when he left and when you check your phone, you’re even more surprised to find a text message with a photo of a sleeping you attached, your head against his chest, eyes closed and peaceful..

Navy Dude: thought i would take something for my own instagram..see you tonight..

You couldn’t help but giggle, breathing in his scent as you read the message and immediately going to check his instagram account before making yourself busy for the rest of the day by taking Cosie on a long walk and doing your pilates work out in the living room, practically counting down the hours until he would arrive to take you to meet his friends. Your first official date as a fake couple. 

You’re just struggling into a cute little yellow dress sun dress when you hear your door open and Cosie give a happy yip, with your arms cocked behind you, you glance towards your bedroom door, hearing his footsteps fall down the hallway. “Bobby?” You call out, almost a whine. “I can’t get my dress zipped..” 

He’s in your room in a matter of seconds, his long and lithe body taking up your doorway. He’s in his service uniform, the tan khaki’s littered with different colors of pins that you would have to ask him about later. You thought he looked handsome in his uniform, but he looked downright drool worthy when he wore his flight suit home, though you assumed they hadn’t done any flying today. 

“Let me help,” He murmurs as you stand in front of him. He bats your hands away before gently moving your loose hair over one shoulder, out of the way of the zip. “Dress looks real pretty..” His fingertips trail down the exposed skin of your back and you suck in a breath, chills going down your spine as they go up, up, up, stopping just between your shoulder blades. 

“Do I look okay?” You ask softly, smoothing out the flowy skirt that just barely went past your mid-thigh as you turned to face him, looking up at the taller man. You had put on enough makeup to cover up what was left of your bruises, but not nearly as much as you had worn at work last night. You were meeting friends, there was no need to paint your face like you would at work. You weren’t sure if you should put on more though, you wanted to look okay for him, you wanted him to have his friends’ approval. 

“You look gorgeous,” He murmurs, corners of his lips turning up as he looks down at you. You were practically chest to chest by that point, you would call it an almost intimate moment. His hand comes up from his side, fingertips grazing against the skin of your cheek before brushing your hair behind your ear, you blush as you notice yourself leaning into his touch slightly. “Think you look real pretty in yellow, Sunnygirl..” 

“Thank you..” You breathe, not realizing that you had somehow moved close enough to him that your noses were practically touching, him stopped down towards you. It wouldn’t take much for your lips to brush together now, just lean into him a little farther, and you would have too if Cosie hadn’t barked from your feet, scaring you so badly that you jump about a foot in the air, cheeks flushing as you realize that you had been about to kiss him and he hadn’t even tried to stop you. 

“Right, so,” You clear your throat, turning to go back to your closet for a pair of matching sandals. “Why don’t I go walk Cosie while you change and then I’ll meet you by your truck?”

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah,” He says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he turns, his own cheeks flushing red. “You do that, i’ll be right down..” 

Nearly forty-five minutes later, he’s pulling his silverado into a parking spot near an old Bronco, throwing the shifter into park. You take in a deep breath, looking over at him. “This is it.” You say, the whole scheme that you two had cooked up finally feeling real to you. The man next to you nods, taking his keys from the ignition and shoving them down into his pocket. “Alright Bobby, let’s do this.” 

The parking lot isn’t overly crowded, but the patrons inside the bar are loud as you walk up to it. Your nerves get the better of you the closer you get to the front doors, your hands shaking with anxiety and you try to channel it into smoothing down your dress skirt but it does no good. Bob notices though, and suddenly he’s sliding his much larger hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay, Sunny.” He says, and you smile up at him feeling like a fool. You hadn’t realized that your anxiety was so noticeable, you thought you had been better at hiding it. 

Before you cn respond to him, he’s pushed open the doors of the bar, stepping in first to hold it open for you, his hand not leaving yours once. Almost immediately there’s a call of his name traveling throught he air and the sounds of chairs scraping and before you know it you’re surrounded by a few big, buff dudes and a bubbly girl who looks the most excited to meet you. 

You do your rounds of introductions, Phoenix gives you a big hug, ripping your hand from Bob’s in the process and practically lifting you off of the ground, and though you’re meeting her under the guise of being his girlfriend, you know that you’re going to be good friends.

Rooster gives you a firm handshake, his ginormous hand enveloping yours as he smiles down at you. You take in his features, he’s quite handsome despite the scarring on his face (that you desperately want to ask questions about, though you keep it to yourself) and you notice the lack of a ring on his hand or on the dog tags looped around his neck, peaking out of the top of the white undershirt he had put on under his loose hawaiian shirt. You think he’d be a good match for one of your friends and you make a mental note to ask Bob about it later. 

Coyote is gentle, and quite sweet but he’s a bit of a flirt and you feel yourself leaning more into Bob while you’re talking with him briefly, wanting it to look like you weren’t available (because technically to them, you weren’t). He introduces you to who you realize is one of his best friends next, Hangman, or as you had heard Bob call him, Bagman. He’s still wearing his uniform, and when he shakes your hand he gives you a charmingly sweet smile that you just know makes the girls weak in the knees, but when he talks to you? Your stomach drops to your knees.”Hey there, pretty thing..” He must know it too, because he smirks at you, that accent heavy. 

You swallow thickly, turning to Bob. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink, I’ll be right back, baby..” You say, giving him a kiss on the cheek for show before heading over to the bar. “Shot of tequila, please..” You say to the woman tending bar, leaning against it as you let out a breath. 

Bob’s friend was the man you had given a private dance to last night..the man who you had made cum in his own pants. How fucking bad could this get, you wondered? You hadn’t exactly lied when you told Bob’s friends that you were a dancer, you just hadn’t exactly specified what kind of dancing you did for a living, not expecting that one of his friends would be one of your customers. 

She sets the shot glass down in front of you just as you feel a presence behind you, directly behind you. His body was solid and warm as he put his arms on either side of yours, boxing you in. 

“Does he know?” His voice his quiet in your ear, making your body go stiff. You were uncomfortable, but you knew that he wasn’t going to hurt you or touch you in anyway. 

“That I made you cum in your pants?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow as you turn to face him. His head was right next to yours, eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “No, Bagman, I don’t think he does, and I don’t think he needs to either.” You knock back your shot, the liquid sliding down your throat with ease. “Just like I don’t think your group of friends needs to know that you spent your sunday night getting a lap dance from a stripper, now do they?”

You must win whatever stand off this is because after a moment his moves his arms, letting you brush past him. You hear him ask for a round of beers from the woman, and to put your shot on his tab as you make your way back to Bob who gives you a questioning look, you realize he must have seen the whole encounter. You lean up to kiss his cheek as you come back, his arm going around your waist firmly as you whisper to him that you needed to tell him something when you guys got home. You honestly thought it was funny, but you were sure that he was going to be freaked out. 

taglist:

@mamachasesmayhem @hangmandruigandmav @shotgunhallelujah @shiara04 @3tabbiesandalab @tgmreader @flrboyd @goosterroose @mrspedropascal5683 @sugajar

@dory-98 @justherebecausesafarisucks @eloquentdreamer @sweetwhispersofchaos @pet1t3 @teacupsandtopgun @milkbummm @purplevortexx @silenterosion

[luminouslywriting]

Bob headcannon, they confess there love to you when there drunk ,maybe infront of everyone or maybe not you decide depending on the character ,but at first they don't remember , then they see you walking by a few times and the memory comes back

Hi hon! Great request idea! For this, I just did the men I think this would apply to! So if I’m missing anyone you really want to see, let me know! Requests are open and I don’t mind spam :) Please note though that I don’t write full smut scenes so don’t go requesting anything too crazy haha 😅

More under the cut, cut for length:

Lewis Nixon:

-In private and when he’s drunk, he confesses that he thinks about you ALL of the time and you just have to sit there and listen and try to get him back to his quarters. -No, he doesn’t remember this in the morning. But when he’s starting to get slightly tipsy again and he passes you, he remembers. -He is mortified and goes immediately to Winters to spill tea about said encounter. And Winters just tells him to talk to you??? And figure it out???

-So a conversation is in order and when he finally stops dragging his feet in order to actually speak with you, he’s pleasantly surprised that you reciprocate those feelings. -And now he’s wondering what else you two can get up to when he’s tipsy haha 😉

Ronald Speirs:

-This happens when Easy takes the Eagle’s Nest and they get to relax a little….and Speirs is finally letting loose just a little bit. -He very tipsily and drunkenly admits that he’d been in love with you for a hot minute….right in front of Lipton. It’s a whole moment honestly. -No, he won’t remember it in the morning. And no, Lipton is not about to say anything because it was embarrassing enough having to watch the entire thing haha. -But after realizing that you’re avoiding him, he remembers the encounter and immediately tries to fix things with you. -The conversation quickly takes a turn into a makeout session with mumbled confessions from both of you.

Joe Liebgott:

-Probably takes place in Aldbourne?? Before D-Day and before any of the jumps. It’s a day shortly before all of that and everyone is just trying to have a good time. -He had gotten totally wasted, hit on you, and you figured it was just because you were around when he was drunk. -Please note that that was NOT the reason and he doesn’t even remember it until after D-Day?? It’s the most random memory and he’s suddenly panicking over the thing??

-So it’s a whole panicked conversation and you probably just have to kiss him to shut him up because you’re super chill about the entire thing and he is NOT haha. -Suddenly very grateful that he got drunk and told you way too much.

Bill Guarnere:

-It’s sometime after D-Day and he’s not necessarily drunk but just slightly tipsy and tired enough to spill his feelings. -He doesn’t remember at all but you keep looking at him weird and Toye and Heffron let him know everything he said haha. -He acts super chill about it even though he’s really not…and he avoids talking to you so you have to take the initiative here babe. -Once the conversation starts though, he’s perfectly confident in expressing how he feels. -He asks you out on a date once you get back to England :)

Joe Toye:

-Doesn’t get blackout drunk and isn’t really an embarrassing drunk as much as an honest one. So he’s not acting out of the ordinary, just more honest than normal. -Honestly? He remembers quite fully what he said but if you’re not going to talk about it, then neither is he

-It’s not until you guys are stuck in a foxhole in Bastogne that a real conversation about it is had and he’s surprised to find out that you thought he was just drunk….and he really doesn’t feel that way. -He absolutely tells you how he feels and a kissing/cuddling session begins.

-You two write to each other until the war is over and you can reunite.

George Luz:

-This man gets his jump wings, gets a little drunk, and you think he’s joking when he flirts with you in all honesty. -He remembers on the boat over to England and tries talking to you about it, but you just tell him to stop joking about things. -He gets very serious about the entire thing and confesses how he really feels and it’s a soft, slightly insecure, conversation. -But you two get together before you even reach England and everyone thinks you two are really cute. -He promises that when it comes to you, he’s never going to joke or tease about his feelings.

[cookie-crumblr]

Can I ask for a succubus darling AU?

OFC!!!!! omg yus! i’m assuming for Jasper, if not anny send me another!

MINORS DNI!!!!

CW: NSFW, SUCCUBUS G/N READER (HE STILL CALLS US PRETTY, but in a GN WAY, he thinks you’re beautiful no matter what gender and equipment, so take it 😤✨🥰 /lovingly 😘)

“shiiiiit, Y/N” Jasper groans, one hand tightly gripping one of the beautiful horns that crown you.

Your cheeks are hollow as you bob your head up and down, lips wrapped around his deliciously veiny member.

You moan out around his length, eliciting a sigh from him that sounds like music to your ears.

His other hand fingers your lower half, he loves your mouth, but he really wants to feed you properly.

“Y-Y/N, lemme take care of you, pretty,”

You almost cant stop, mana starved and feral. Usually he keeps you perfectly well fed, but he had just returned from a long trip with Dev, and Issac to “take care” of your previous master.

You need his cum, no matter where. Your body feels like a drug addict’s when they are going through withdrawls.

Violent shaking, with cold sweats, fatigue and dizziness plague you.

Your body is telling you to suck harder. You NEED to suck harder.

*pop* “haaa haaa” you gasp, your face covered in a glistening sheen of sweat and drool, “P-please Jasperr, hu-hurry, I need you s’bad!”

You grab the arm of the sofa and present yourself like a bitch in heat. Your spade tipped tail wraps around his arm and pulls weakly in attempt to bring him closer.

Your little wings flap in solid frustration. You’re so close, but it feels so far.

He doesn’t make you wait.

Pushing himself into your sopping hole, you wail out in ecstasy.

He’s holding your ass up by your tail, and keeps your head down by pushing on your horn.

Your nails rip the fabric under you as squelching slaps bounce off the walls and fill the room.

“F-Fuck Ja-s-perrr hah!”

“You take me s’well, pretty,” His voice is so filled with love and adoration even while he’s using his full strength to ruthlessly fuck you.

You squeeze his dick with everything you’ve got as he pumps in and out of you.

With a few twitches he dumps his thick load into you, and your body practically glows.

Your strength returns in an instant and you slip his grasp, and flip you both over.

You’re on top now, and you feel yourself up while continuing to bounce on his dick and milk him.

He’s always a little sleepy after you sap some of his energy for the first time in a while.

His smile is dreamy and practically fucked out, but his cock remains hard.

“Please! More! Jasper, moreee!!” You whine and twirl your hips while grinding down into his lap.

“Of course, pretty~ take as much as you need fro’me~”

[ithinkabouttzu]

hello! I love the reactions you write about Band of Brothers!, I would like to know how they would react if they knew they were their s/o's first boyfriend? I don't speak English, so sorry if it's bad 💕

Of course hon!!! Thank you so much for your request! Hope you enjoy!! 💌

Easy co.’s reaction to being their s/o’s first boyfriend!

Genre: Romance; fluff

Warnings: Kissing? I think that’s about it! (reader is gn)

Description: The Easy co. boys’ reaction to being their s/o’s first boyfriend!!

Taglist: @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl @samwinchesterslostshoe @ronsenthal @sweetxvanixlla (If you want to be on this list, let me know!! :))

BoB Masterlist

Dick Winters: Knowing how caring Dick is, he would make it his mission to be the best partner possible for you. (he would even if he wasn’t your first boyfriend btw) He wants you to have the best experience possible, going on fun dates, surprising you with flowers, he wants to make sure that you feel loved no matter what. That true romance does exist. He would do all the little romantic stuff you haven’t really experienced before. He hopes to be your first boyfriend and last.

Lewis Nixon: I think Nix would find it particularly interesting that you haven’t had a boyfriend before him. Because literally how? You are the most attractive person this guy has ever met? He wouldn’t be surprised if you said you had guys lining down the block to take you out. I think he also gets a good kick out of the fact that he would be your first kiss (if you already haven’t had it) and your first everything really. He would let you in on everything you need to know relationship wise.

Carwood Lipton: He makes sure to set a high standard for you. He’s also like Dick, bringing you flowers and opening the door for you, holding your hands and being the sweetest guy ever. He reminds you that, even though most first relationships don’t always have the reputation to succeed, he can promise that he won’t leave, no matter what. He wants to make a relationship with him feel good and special. He’s determined to make you feel like a princess/prince at all times.

Joe Toye: When you tell him that he is your first boyfriend, he gets very protective. He genuinely wants to give a great experience with relationships in general, and swears to never hurt you in any way. He knows that this is special to you, so he takes dates and any sort of one-on-one time with you very seriously. Planning all kinds of stuff for y’all to go do. He really makes sure to take care of you and keep you safe from harm's way.

Joe Liebgott: When you tell Lieb that he’s your first boyfriend, he kinda feels a pressure from himself to be the best boyfriend to you. He wants for you to experience all of the young puppy love stuff with him, even if that means you two act like complete fools, it doesn’t matter to him. He wants to be your comfort and confidante during this new thing with you. But he’s so patient and considerate too, if you’re not ready to kiss or say “I love you” he’s very understanding and will wait until you feel comfortable.

Bill Guarnere: Bill really wants to be your first and best s/o. He is very set on making a good impression on you of what a good boyfriend should be like. He would love to show how great and fun romantic relationships can be. He really considers how fragile first relationships can be and really cares about your feelings, like figuring out what all of your boundaries, what you like and don’t like dating wise, he really protects you and takes you under his wing in a way.

George Luz: He figures the best way to be your boyfriend is to be your best friend first. He really tries to make you laugh and smile any chance he gets, he wants you to be happy no matter what, when you guys are dating and you tell him that he’s your first bf, he wants to meet all of the expectations you’d have for your partner, literally be the perfect, cheesy little boyfriend you’ve always wished for (be ready for lots and lots of flowers and sweet treats if you’re with him.)

Bull Randleman: When you tell Bull that he’d be your first boyfriend, he honestly feels honored to be your first partner. He truly thinks that the only reason you haven’t had a boyfriend before is because you have super high standards. He’s very gentle with you the first couple months you guys are dating, almost a bit reserved because he just wants to be respectful to you. Anytime he’s about to do anything romantic with you he’ll ask over and over again, “Is this okay?”

Eugene Roe: He’s so, so attentive and patient. Just the kindest boyfriend you could ever ask for. He knows that he’s your first boyfriend, and is willing to do whatever it is so that you don’t ever have to worry in a relationship with him. He will make sure to give you the best hugs and kisses and remind you that he’ll be the best boyfriend possible for you. And I can’t forget about all of the sweetest little dates he would take you on. He literally proves to you that chivalry is in fact, not dead.

Floyd Talbert: Tab’s honestly kind of nervous to be your first boyfriend. He wants to be the best guy for you. He understands how special a relationship is for you, so he makes sure to cherish and handle it as if it’s the most precious gift he’s ever had. He’s also very flattered to know that he’s your first everything. He can’t wait to experience all of the little romantic couple things you want to do with him eventually in the relationship.

Skip Muck: He takes it as a compliment that he’s your first boyfriend. He kinda goes over the top in the first couple weeks in y’all’s relationship. Sweet boy just wants to make a great impression on you, that he can be the perfect boyfriend for you. Like buying you all of your favorite things, surprising you with gifts, going on all kinds of dates. He wants to show you that he’s a great guy that is more than willing to love you and be in love with you.

Don Malarkey: He really has the sweetest intentions with you as your partner. He wants to make you happy and safe no matter what, whether he’s your first boyfriend or last. He is such a cute gentleman when it comes to your relationship with him, like coming up to your place with flowers, lowkey freaking out like a kid on his first date with you. He makes sure you are always comfortable and feel loved 24/7. He just adores you so much.

Shifty Powers: He doesn’t really mind that much, he thinks it’s kinda cute actually. He feels so special that you would want him to be your first boyfriend. He wants to make sure that you have such a nice experience with him. He does feel a bit of responsibility to make sure this relationship is the best. He prioritizes communication so much in y’all’s relationship because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable in anything relationship wise.

Babe Heffron: Don’t take this the wrong way, but he’s so happy that he gets to be your first boyfriend, that he gets to be your first everything. He’s so excited to be youthful and do young-love things with you. He’s kinda like Bill, very set on being your first and best. He will make sure that you know he’s there to stay no matter what. When you’re dating him just remember that he will annoy you with silly little dates and stuff like that.

Frank Perconte: He wouldn’t really care if he had been your first boyfriend, or your 100th, he just wants you to be happy and make you feel like the best partner in the world. He does want to make sure that he’s providing all you need so that you feel perfect in your relationship with him. If there’s something in particular that you’d really like for him to do, he would go all out for it!! He just really wants to see you happy and safe.

Ronald Speirs: He finds it quite amusing that he’s your first boyfriend. A little shocked at first because he genuinely couldn’t tell you hadn’t had a boyfriend yet. He finds the need to protect you even more, considering that he would hold such a special part in your life. He makes sure to take the relationship as slow or as fast as you like. He has such a hidden soft side for you and it’s so cute, even before he knew he was your first.

Johnny Martin: He’s very shocked. “Are you sure? You know high school relationships count too, right?” Lol he just finds it very hard to believe that you’ve never been with any other guy until now. He honestly feels kinda proud that you would want him to be your first boyfriend if he does say so himself. Any kinda cheesy little first relationship stuff you want, he’ll do it. Just don’t ask him to sing you a song and you’ll be alright.

Skinny Sisk: “Really? No joking?” He gets really soft with you when he figures out that you’ve never been with another person before him. Like he understands how important it can be to you so he does all the little sweet things a first boyfriend should do. Having the “talk” with your parents, taking you to the movies, holding your hand when you’re scared. He’s the best gentleman with you and he promises to you that he will never misuse or hurt your heart in any way. (like ron he’s also so soft for you lol)

Chuck Grant: He gets happy when you tell him that he’s your first boyfriend, not because you haven’t had a guy before, but because you chose him to be in a relationship with. He’s very understanding and patient with you if there’s some things you don’t really have a clue on in relationship stuff, he honestly finds it cute. He immediately takes responsibility as your boyfriend and makes sure to keep you happy and safe no matter what.

David Webster: Honestly is a bit nervous at first, just because he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way and wants for you to have the best first relationship possible. He has a lot of self doubt that he can be the best guy for you at first, but when you let him know that he’s all you want, he makes sure to be there for you in any way possible. He’d do so many sweet things for you, one I could see him do is like write you sweet little love poems and stick them in your bag before work or school.

Buck Compton: Ahhh where do I start? This hot shot thinks it’s adorable. You haven’t had a boyfriend yet? Well you got one now. He’d be more than happy to do a bunch of mushy couple stuff with you, he would love it actually. He just wants to make you happy at all costs, so he’s willing to do just about everything. As long as you're safe and happy then he’s fine. Get ready for him to be such a sweet guy whenever you’re around, like soft as can he.

Thank you for your request again, anon!!! I hope you all enjoyed! 🤍🩷🤍🩷🤍🩷

[motleycrueobsessed]

I need something where you go backstage dressed up in lingerie for Nikki

Ily anon

Warnings: Smut, p n v, Oral (Both receiving) Teasing, Nikki slaps reader, AFAB reader but i dont think i used any pronouns, degrading, praising.. lmk if i missed any!!!

MDNI.

Smut under the cut!!!

———————————————————————

You and Nikki had been dating for a little over a year. It was 1985, and this was the first tour he’s taken you on, because it was hitting up a lot of the places on your bucket list. Nikki loved to see you smile, and he knew you wanted to go to these places pretty badly.

So why not take you with him?

Mötley Crüe was on stage right now, performing the last song of the night. They were finishing strong with Shout At The Devil, and they sounded particularly good tonight.

Nikki was clearly tired and sweaty, you could see the sweat on his skin from the wing.

You decided it would be a good idea to surprise Nikki. So you went into his dressing room and slid off your clothes, revealing a nice, black, lacy set of lingerie.

You knew he loved seeing you in black or red lingerie, it did things to him. You laid down on the red leather couch in his dressing room, waiting for him to finish.

After a few minutes, he came through the door.

“Baby? Where ar- oh.” He interrupted himself when he saw you.

“The fuck are you doing?” He said, a glint of lust in his eyes. “You just couldn’t wait, could you? Fucking whore. Such a little slut for me.” He walks towards you. “You told me you liked surprises.” You said, acting innocent. “And you clearly understood what i meant.. christ, you look so hot..”

Even if you weren’t quite a model.. Nikki didn’t care. He loved you, and your imperfections. Thighs didn’t have a gap? More to mark. Hip dips? They were cute. Pudge? Again, more to mark. Scars? Showed a story.

Your body mixed with your sweet personality drove him insane. Especially when you wore that lacy lingerie for him. He knew he was the only one who got to see you like this. The bulge in his black leather pants was growing more and more prominent.

“See what you do to me, baby girl? I bet you’re so wet.” He whispers into your ear, now bent down to your level. He sat down next to you on the couch, already unlacing his pants. He got them off and tossed them to the side.

“Undress and suck it, whore.” He demanded with a rough tone.

You quickly got off the couch, undressed then got onto your knees, and started giving his tip little kitten licks before taking him into your mouth. You let him hit the back of your throat and you let out a low hum, the vibration making him groan.

You began bobbing your head up and down, his hand tangling in your hair and guiding you. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, batting your eyes at him. He groaned again, and you felt him get closer and closer to releasing.

You felt a warm liquid go down your throat, and you swallowed it all with a hum.

“Get up slut.” He ordered, and you got off your knees. “On my lap.” You sat on his lap, his hard cock teasing your entrance. “Good girl.” He whispered. “You wanna fucking be a whore? I’ll treat you like a fucking whore then.” He delivered a hard slap across your face, eliciting a moan from you.

He pushed into you, giving you a second to adjust. He put his hands on your hips and you began to ride him. “Thats it slut, you’re doing so well.” You loved how he would degrade and praise you at the same time. It made you so needy for him.

He began to pound into you, noticing you get tired. You let out loud moans. He felt your walls tighten around him. “Don’t you dare cum before i do.” He warned. “Y-yes sir.” You whimpered. “Good girl.”

He soon came inside of you, and then did some lazy thrusts, riding his high out.

“Cum honey.” He demanded gently. You soon did as he said with a whimper, burying your face in his neck. He pulled your face away from his neck by your hair and kissed you roughly, soon pulling away.

He slid you off of him and he quickly got off the couch. He got onto his knees and forced your legs apart. He buried your cunt in his face, tongue diving into your entrance.

You let out some whimpers, burying your hands in his hair. One of his hands came up and rubbed your clit hard and fast, until you came all over his face. He licked it all up and licked one last stripe up your pussy.

He got up off his knees and kissed you lazily, and you could taste yourself on his lips.

“You taste divine, sweetheart.” He whispered sweetly. He helped you get dressed again and then dressed himself. He sat you on his lap once more, holding you tightly.

“You did so well, pretty baby.” Was the last thing you heard before you fell asleep in his arms.

————————————————

Wait are my fics getting longer?? Ohmygod!!!!

I think this is my favorite fic i’ve ever written

Sorry for disappearing btw im so unmotivated

[thisblogisaboutabook]

The Sprite and the Shifter

Tamlin x Original Character/Sprite - Fluff - Smut

After rescuing a sprite from the paws of a predator, Tamlin finds a friend in the most unlikely of fae. The only problem is, he’s a grump and she’s sunshine personified. Well, that and the very big (very little) problem - she’s less than a foot tall - and he might be falling in love with her.

A/n: This is one of my favorite stories I’ve written yet 🥹

Warnings: Contains Crescent City lore that could be spoilery if you think too much on it, Smut, a few little size difference innuendos sprinkled in, language, alcohol, mental health struggles, MDNI.

A tickle brushed against the nape of its neck as the beast prowled through his forest. The hitchhiker he’d begrudgingly picked up marveling at the world around her.

He’d found her under the paw of a bob-tailed forest cat, trying her best to reason with the hungry creature. It was said that sprites could wield power quite larger than their size would suggest, but this tiny, stubborn creature simply crossed her arms with brows drawn and a pointed finger, lecturing it and refusing to harm the cat that surely saw her as its lunch. With a half-hearted growl from the beast, the forest cat ran at the sight of him to which the Sprite tapped her petite foot in irritation, “I could have handled it!”

The beast only gave what appeared to be a roll of its eyes and wandered on, leaving the little fae be.

“Wait!” She squeaked. “My wing!” He glanced back spotting her through the brush, running with all her might on legs barely longer than the height of one his paws.

He thought about leaving the ungrateful female behind but… well, the guilt of leaving the it behind to fend for itself was likely more inconvenient than taking her somewhere to have her bent wing tended to.

“Please! I can’t fly like this!”

An image flashed through his mind of a fae dying on a table, wings cut off by a witch, and an act of kindness in its final moments. Not today. Today his heart wouldn’t dwell on it, but he could offer kindness to the sprite. So he lowered himself on his haunches and waited for her to catch up, giving an irritated flick of his tail as he waited for her to climb on.

The beast was beginning to regret his kindness as he let out a displeasured rumble from his throat when her small, barely perceptible voice sighed in wonder, “Look! Those flowers are almost as tall as you! Can we smell them? Please please please.”

He wanted to ignore her, he really did, but the awe in that voice made him pause. In this court now overrun by thorns and weeds, she still found beauty. It wouldn’t be long before she’d see it for what it was - a wasteland squandered by its own High Lord.

Letting out a huff through flared nostrils the beast hung its head low in reluctant deference to the tiny fae’s command, grimacing as she grabbed fistfuls of his fur, tugging herself on top of his head, an eager wing twitching with excitement brushing along the shell of his ear, with an exclaimed “oops, sorry!” as it twitched at the tickling sensation.

Apparently hauling her body up on top of his head wasn’t enough as he felt weight distributing to the right side of his head as she pulled herself up an antler, and steadied her feet on a tine halfway up. “I can smell it from here! It’s amazing! I’ve never seen one like this.”

The beast thought to itself that she’d said that about the last four flowers they’d had to stop and investigate but kept it to himself.

Hours later they stumbled out of brush into the fields leading to the Spring Court manor. Excitedly she jumped up and down with glee, pushing down on the brow of her savior. He really should have left her somewhere but there was no turning back now.

“Is it safe here? Will you be hunted?” She asked wearily.

The beast finally spoke, “I am not prey.”

Whether she was shocked to realize the beast could speak or not, she didn’t let on. Scurrying down his snout and nearly tumbling as she dropped to her knees, she pulled a corner of his lip up to inspect his sharpened teeth. “With canines like THAT, I suppose not.”

“Do you know if anyone lives there? It looks abandoned.”

The beast only prowled toward the manor the tiny fae nervously grasping onto its fur, little fingers tugging tight clumps into her grasp as if that would protect her from any dangers within.

Prowling next to a velvet lounge the beast dipped low. “Off.”

“But-“ she shrieked.

“You’re safe. Get off.” tone leaving no room for objection.

“O-okay.”

And with that the beast shifted into a rugged, beautiful male. He waited for the realization, the shock, the hate to cross her features but it never came.

No, the pixie jumped up and down shrieking with glee. “Shapeshifter! Eeeeek! I’ve never met one of you before!”

The male almost let a corner of his mouth tug upward. When was the last time he’d smiled? It felt unnatural and he kept his features neutral.

He squatted down, extending a palm. She felt lecherous admiring the muscles of his exposed chest but it was right there before her. “Wow.” she let slip, her eyes blown wide.

And he couldn’t help it, he let out a small sound of amusement. He wasn’t quite sure anyone viewed him as anything less than a male who’d let himself go at this point.

At least he had pants on. She wondered how the magic worked considering he had no clothing as a beast. “Let’s get your wing fixed.”

She took a step into his palm, grasping onto a calloused finger for balance as he carried her to a small infirmary within the manor.

Sitting on a small table back turned toward the male, he assessed the delicate structure of her iridescent wings, up close he noted that they were membranous with pearlescent veins throughout. He couldn’t help but marvel at them, wondering what colors of paint it would take to recreate such a spectrum of color. He wondered if Fey- no, he wouldn’t think of her today. He couldn’t allow himself to spiral, he’d brought the sprite all this way and her wing needed tending to.

It took much longer than anticipated but with guidance from the little faerie and his own knowledge, they were able to set the wing. Unfortunately, it could take a few days to heal. The light filtering through the windows had since become a blend of oranges and reds, night would be upon them soon.

“You may stay the night in a guest room.” his tone impassive in hopes she wouldn’t notice the shame hidden within. The rooms were hardly fit for prisoners, let alone a guest - but it was better than sending her flightless into the darkened forests. There were threats far worse than bobtail cats on the hunt under the cover of night.

“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

He only grumbled in dismissal of the thank you’s. Surely the manor would feel like a prison to her by the time she’d leave. “It’s nothing. Find a place to sleep and it’s yours for the night and- what exactly is it that you eat?”

The male wasn’t exactly prepared to host but surely there was something that could be provided - though he doubted his usual meal of venison would be appetizing to her.

“Do you have sugar and water? Or perhaps honey?”

With a nod, he led her to the kitchen, she sat on a counter, ankles crossed as he let a pot of tea steep, pulling out sugar cubes to melt into it and providing honey in the smallest dish he could find.

She let out a sigh of contentment as she sipped the tea - an herbal blend that would ease the aching of her healing wing and hopefully help her rest. With genuine gratitude, the faerie expressed her thanks. “Oh!” She gasped. “Oh, I’ve been so very rude. What is your name?”

Something pulled at him with the question, she truly didn’t realize who he was. “Tamlin.” he spoke curtly. “And what is your name?”

“Fleur” she smiled.

“Fleur” he repeated - a lovely flower in his palace of thorns and decay.

An oddly adorable yawn spilled from her as she began to drift off. The tea clearly doing its job. He carried her to the least objectionable room in his manor and laid her carefully on a pillow, placing a silken kerchief over her delicate form.

“Goodnight, flower.” He whispered.

————

Tamlin awoke before dawn, sleep evading him as usual, but today he felt a little lighter. Certainly it had nothing to do with actually interacting with another being, with reveling in the way she experienced the world with such joy.

As he wandered through the halls, he found himself pulled toward the room he’d left her in, his heart sinking slightly when the fae was no longer there. No note or sign of her presence aside from the missing kerchief.

Very well. Best to leave before the walls come crashing in on her. Yet Tamlin found his shoulders dropping slightly as he carried himself back to his chamber, the energy to press through the day no longer tangible.

Falling back into bed, he lay quietly as the sun began to peek over the hills, casting rays into his room. A slight shimmer glinting in the dawn. That’s when Tamlin noticed - curled up on a shredded chaise by the long burnt-out fire place lay the little sprite, sound asleep under his kerchief.

The corners of Tamlin’s lips rose slightly as he drifted back to sleep.

Smile be damned as tiny hands pinched his cheeks two hours later. “Hello! Are you alive in there? You’re sleeping the day away!”

Letting out a sigh, Tamlin sat himself up hearing an “oof!” as she tumbled off of his face.

Placing her hands on the curvature of her hips, she scowled at him. “A little warning next time, please!”

“Apologies. Perhaps you could find a gentler way of waking someone. Why are you in here anyway?”

She flushed. “Oh, I- well I got tired of waiting for you and didn’t know my way around the manor so I just came in to wake you up.”

“No you didn’t” he tsk’d.

She flushed, knowing she’d been caught.

“Oh….” She rubbed the back of her neck the rosey tint of embarrassment lingering across her delicate features.

“Well, there was a spider in my room and- well, they’re not all bad but this one was rather insistent that I was intruding in its space.”

Whatever he’d expected her to reply with was not that.

“-and, well, this house is so big and I knew I would be safe with you.”

Safe. She felt safe with him. She’d sought him out and found comfort in his presence. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, that instinct to protect roiling beneath his surface. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke.

“Show me where it is and I’ll eliminate the problem.”

“No!” She cried. “It wasn’t hurting anyone - it was just displeasured and I was a stranger in its space.”

Tamlin thought. Apparently he’d brought a pacifist into his home - first refusing to use her power on the cat and now, a spider? What an interesting little creature.

“Fine. I’ll ward the house against spiders.”

“But that’s its home! And I’m only a guest.” She retorted.

He dragged a hand across his face. Good grief, this little thing. “This is my home, not a spiders.”

“You don’t need all of this space! I have seen no others here. Surely it can take up space in your residence without putting you out.”

He should have left her in the wood where he found her. Truly. But he admired her kind heart.

“Fine, how about this? I will ward the house with the exception of that room so your spider will not be evicted. I, for one, would prefer not to have my manor overrun by the things.”

He couldn’t hear it but by the way her cheeks puffed and deflated he assumed the sigh she let out was her giving in to his solution for now.

————-

After another breakfast of tea and honey, the pixie sat straight, looking to her wings with an attempt to flutter the damaged one. “I should go and make the most of the daylight.”

A slight pang of disappointment rang through the male. Worry for her? Guilt for sending her away when he had room to spare? Sadness for the lack of her company, regardless of how pesky she was? He wasn’t sure but the words fell from his lips. “Stay.”

She jumped to her feet with glee. “Really? Oh thank you, thank you!” Springing forward, she flung herself against his wrist, hugging him. “I would kiss your cheek but… well, my wings.” Her eyes shone as she stared into his. “Thank you.” She repeated earnestly.

—————-

Tamlin had to admit that he didn’t mind her company. He carried her through his gardens, expecting her to frown at the weed-infested, malnourished state of it but she only smiled. “It’s beautiful!”

How she found beauty in such a place, he was unsure. “You should have seen it in its prime.” He didn’t mean for the words to escape him but they fell off of his lips with sadness.

“I like it now.” She hummed. “Maybe when Calanmai comes, the garden will grow further.”

He stiffened, blinking. “Calanmai has not been celebrated by the High Lord in several years.”

“Oh.. Why not?” She puzzled.

Distrust crossed his features. Was this a scheme? Had someone sent her to coax him into partaking in the Great Rite once again? His heart sunk. “I need to go take care of some things. You can find your way back into the manor.”

“Wait!” She cried but he only pivoted, taking long strides back to the house.

Tamlin sat in his study an hour later, eyes glazed as thoughts of the past spiraled. Would he ever feel better? The urge to rip the study to shreds that once would have clawed its way out of him wasn’t there, just an ache in his chest. Empty. Void.

A shadow flew across his desk overlooking the garden and again moments later, and suddenly a falcon swooped from the sky, straight toward where he’d left Fleur.

Fear ripped through Tamlin, he ran like he’d never run before shifting into his beast form to amplify his pace. He wouldn’t make it to her in time. Oh gods- he’d left her out there just for her to die.

“Fleur!” Tamlin roared as he bound into the garden, tearing through the briars, ignoring how they barbed into the pads of his paws. Exposing his teeth he launched toward the large bird of prey.

Screeching to a stop, nearly taking out the sprite and the falcon as he slowed, falling into a seated position from the velocity of halting.

“Are you okay??” She asked, concern etching her tone.

“Me!?” He asked. “I saw this falcon come swooping out of the sky to grab you.”

Fleur brought a hand to cover her mouth as she snickered. “No, silly! She came to find me. This is Perrey. I live with her and her hatchlings.” The bird clicked its beak affectionately brushing the top of its head against the faerie.

Tamlin’s jaw dropped. “How?”

“That’s a story for another time” she smiled sadly, scratching the feathers of the falcons neck.

“Perrey says she can fly me back to her nest. So I suppose this is goodbye.”

Tamlin looked to the sky, gray in the distance, grasping at straws for a reason to have her stay, regardless of her motives for being in his court. A lonely male, indeed.

With an awkward scratch to the back of his neck, and insecurity in his voice he replied. “It’s going to storm soon. I know it’s safe for Perrey but with your healing wing, it would be best to keep your wings in a dry, temperate controlled environment.”

She looked to the bird and Tamlin could have sworn the bird gave a nod of the head. After a long pause, it extended a wing and all but pushed her toward Tamlin.

With a disgruntled humph and a scowl to her supposed “friend” she looked back to Tamlin. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You are in no way a burden.” He meant it.

“Okay, I think that would be good. Thank you, Tamlin.”

Letting out a high pitched whistle-cry, the falcon looked to him and then back to her and Fleur whirred around looking at the bird. “What!?”

The bird looked to him again with - yes, that was definitely a nod - “Oh gods, Perrey! I’m mortified!” The bird let out a huff and shook her head, leaving the Sprite behind before she could change her mind.

“I’m so sorry.” Fleur blurt out. “I didn’t know! No wonder you left me out here.”

Tamlin cocked his head. “You didn’t tell me you were the High Lord! I would never have asked why you didn’t partake had I known.”

Recognizing this as his opportunity to apologize he bent down to pick her up. “Come, little one. It seems we both have stories to tell.”

———————————

The pair sat by the fire. Tamlin in a large armchair and Fleur cross legged tucked into the crook of his arm. He’d added a small drop of whiskey to her sugar concoction knowing they’d likely both need it if they were to get to know eachother.

“Would you like to go first? Or me?” She asked.

Tamlin’s heartbeat picked up. She would likely hate him after this and if she left - he wasn’t sure he wanted to know her further, to have that much more reason to mourn the loss of her companionship. Now she was a pleasant stranger and knowing her? Well, that would feel a lot like friendship.

With a sigh, he muttered. “I’ll go first.”

To her credit, she only stared starry eyed at him as he spoke, never looking at him with disgust - only empathy and perhaps a bit of sadness.

He told her of love squandered and how he’d come to be the broken High Lord of the Spring Court, how he’d failed his court and mourned the male he had once been, the male he could have become.

When he’d finished she looked to him. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that. I’m sure it was hard. Maybe what happened wasn’t all right, but people can learn and grow. You could even love again if you wished.”

He appreciated her effort in consoling him but mostly that she didn’t flee or reprimand him, when he’d already spent so long berating himself.

In fact, getting it all off of his chest felt good. He felt a slight relief to that ancient ache within his heart.

“Well, your turn little flower. How does a Sprite end up in the care of a falcon? Where do the Sprites hide? Truthfully, I always thought you were a myth.”

She flushed. “I- I don’t remember everything. I remember, I think, or maybe dreamed of a burst of flame, a wave of water, a flash of white light, a mother’s hands picking me up gently, and whispering.” She hugged her arms around her waist. “Her voice was a breath of life, changing and moulding, whispering of growing flowers in the darkest places. It felt like love, like a gift for a sacrifice that I cannot remember.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t told anyone because I know it sounds crazy but it’s all I know. The next thing I remember was being carried in Perrey’s talons, thinking she would kill me only for her to provide me with protection.”

She blinked rapidly looking up into the emerald- eyed male’s gaze, met with only kindness. “Do you believe me?” She whispered, averting her gaze before she could be crushed beneath the weight of judgement.

He lowered his palm. A silent offering. She took a step onto it, standing straight and he raised her with a steady, fluid motion, careful not to let her fall over. “Of course I do. I don’t know your past but I know you have a place here - if you’d like.”

She was right. He did have plenty of room in his manor. And a friend - it would be nice to have one.

——————————

Fleur - A month later

Time flew by as she reveled in warm spring days, basking her now healed wings in the rays of sun filtering down through puffy white clouds. When arriving to the manor, Fleur wasn’t familiar with her own power beyond her ability to fly, but Tamlin had taken to working with her and she discovered she had the ability to revive various flora.

In fact, after the past month of hard-work and practice, the gardens around the manor flourished.

Fleur adored Tamlin and smiled to herself one day as she watched him in the gardens. She thought he was beautiful when she met him but she hadn’t realized how much of a physical toll his grief had taken on him until he started to gain a healthy complexion, his eyes were no longer hallowed out with purple underneath, his hair was lush and shiny - she’d spent countless nights running her hands through it as they chatted.

Today he donned a flower crown she’d begged him to let her weave into his hair. He was patient with her as she did it, and she blushed at the result. She couldn’t ignore the feeling in her chest as she admired her work. This strong, powerful male who didn’t balk from the softness and beauty of the world. The male who allowed the smallest of his denizens to play dress-up with his hair, and donned the crown proudly as they tended the garden.

Perrey - the meddling buzzard - had stopped to check in several times, teasing her for having a crush. She only scoffed at such a suggestion, things would never work between them. Based on his hands and feet his… appendage was likely as tall as she was. She blushed at the thought, pushing it far back into her mind. She’d taken to sleeping on a pillow in his room. She’d continued sleeping on the chaise for a week after her first night spent in the manor, but Tamlin sometimes had bad dreams and she’d use her powers to soothe him with the sweetest scents of spring and gentle breezes, humming soft tunes until he’d settle.

She, too, would have ocasional nightmares, those images of fire, water, and ash. They felt so real, like another life. Another world. But she’d hear a voice on those nights, when the dreams would become whimpers, not the Mother she’d once dreamed of but Tamlin’s voice. “I am here. You are safe. I will protect you.”

One night she’d woken to that voice to find that it truly was Tamlin soothing her through the nightmare. She didn’t want to embarrass him and selfishly, she ached to hear his unfiltered words. He’d told her of his days writing limericks during a war and she didn’t know what to expect - truly she’d never even heard a limerick before - that she could remember anyway. But even if she had, this one would be her favorite.

“Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.

Take heed when things get hard and don't you ever turn around.

You'll find someone, someday, somewhere that grows you to the clouds.

Sweetest of the sunflowers, you're the sun to me.”

“Little flower?” Tamlin’s voice drew her from her daydreaming. “Calanmai is coming.”

Her heart lurched. They’d discussed the holiday and the potential of the Spring Court High Lord partaking this year. They’d surveyed the land together and while she thought the Spring Court to be a lovely place, she now understood the whisperings she’d heard from the pollinators during her time in the forest. The flowers were dwindling, the harvests no longer plenty.

She understood his hesitance to partake and would never push him to join if it was not comfortable.

An ugly part of her that she tried to push down deep tugged at her. Jealousy. She would be thrilled for all the creatures, all the residents of the Spring Court, but she would never have the opportunity to partake. As far as she knew, she was the only Sprite within this kingdom and while Tamlin was a shapeshifter, how would one approach the topic? But she was still a being, she still felt urges and desire, and Tamlin, something glowed within her when she thought of the male.

Perhaps he saw her as no more than a pest but, she had a hard time finding that to be true. She had little to no experience in romantic affairs but she had enough sense to realize that people didn’t whisper words like “you’re the sun to me” into the ears of someone they didn’t care for.

Remembering that he likely anticipated her response she forced a smile. “Oh?”

His lips pressed into a firm line. “I’ve been thinking and I have been failing my people. I have been failing my people for quite some time and need to partake for the greater good of my Court.”

An ache filled her, not the bitter ache of jealousy, but that of concern for a friend. “Are you comfortable in doing so?”

He gave a half-smile. “I’ve participated in centuries worth of Calanmai nights. I will be fine.” She looked to her feet shyly before looking back to him. “Just don’t force yourself to participate if you’re not willing. Duties be damned, your consent is important too.”

He gave a nod to her. “I appreciate your concern, little one.”

He sat in silent contemplation, words forming on his lips before pressing them into a line again.

“Fleur.”

Her heart fluttered at her name on his lips. “Yes?”

He hesitated for another moment. “Just- Please be careful on the night of Calanmai. I cannot and will not force you to do anything against your will, but perhaps you should stay here. The magic of the night is wild, primal. And you’re….”

Small. Fragile. Breakable.

She was well aware.

“You’re lovely and I don’t know how I would react if someone hurt you.”

He cares about me.

She closed her eyes, letting the thought float away. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He could never be hers.

“Oh, okay.” She whispered.

———————————-

Calanmai - Tamlin

His heart raced as he bound away from the manor. He’d reminded Fleur of the dangers. He wouldn’t lock her away or force her to stay in but he prayed that his reasoning was enough for her to do so.

A bitter thought passed through him, he didn’t want whatever maiden the basest version of himself would chose. He wanted Fleur. Fuck- he felt like a degenerate for it too.

She deserved better and they could never truly work anyway, aside from perhaps grinding against his pinky, there was no anatomical way to be with her. He knew she was an adult, that despite her lack of memories, she was mature enough and understood herself enough to know that she was a grown female with desires of her own. Hell, he’d even scented her arousal a time or two. It killed him. Why couldn’t she be his? It was a sick trick of fate to put someone so perfect in his grasp, just for it to never work.

He wanted to know what sweet sounds she would make as she came on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. He ached for it. He could make himself small but- his magic only went so far. He couldn’t constantly be at her size. Was he sick for wondering if there was a way to make it work? He’d never want to push her into a relationship. What they had was too precious.

He had shrunk down to her size one day and she shared with him all the details of her world, the way the sun created prisms off the orbs of dew on blades of grass, the way she could curl up in a larger flower and nap, the pollen feeling silken against exposed skin. And that day, all he wanted to do as he watched her marvel was to take her into his arms - hold her, kiss her, submit himself wholly to her. His heart longed for it.

He knew he couldn’t shift to her size again without taking their friendship to a point of no return. He couldn’t fathom losing her companionship.

The drums rang out and he began his routine. He found the stag with ease. His bare chest covered with swirls of paint heaved as the urge to find the maiden took over. He wandered the crowd, women reached for him, caressing his arms and exposed chest with grabby fingers. He didn’t want them, the magic didn’t want them.

His body began to move on its own accord, the initial sign of setting its target, he wandered again through the crowd, closer and closer to the edge. His legs began sprinting across the field, further and further from the crowd, right toward - the manor.

Gods - no. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He began to sweat, the beast warring within. He was in pain, warring against it. He couldn’t go to her. She deserved so much more than this.

He begged to the mother, anyone who would listen to hold him back. Finally, through much disdain, he found himself in the stables, using any tethers he could find to bind himself to a post. He hoped it was enough to keep him away. He was strong willed but the beast inside was strong. Perhaps his will and the additional measures would be enough to hold him back. The horses chuffed at his intrusion, doing nothing to hide the irritation of his disruption to their rest, one going as far as to let out a loud neigh.

Tamlin fought and fought, sweat now drenching him, letting out pathetic whimpers and pleas. To whom? He didn’t know. The desire within him was so strong. Images of the day he’d shrunk down to her size flashing across his mind. She was everything. Perfect. Anyone who saw her would agree, with beauty and luscious curves that would bring kingdoms to their knees.

“She could be yours.” The beast in his mind roared. “She wants you. Take her. Just shift.”

“No!!!” He cried out, tears brimming his eyes as the lust burned through him.

His pupils blew wide at the sound of a tiny voice, sweeter than any nectar. “Tamlin?”

“Fleur” he heaved. “You can’t be here. You have to go!”

“What’s wrong? Who tied you here?” She flew to him, frantic, concerned.

She cared for him.

“Fleur, please.” Tamlin whimpered. The beast requested. One begging her to leave, the other begging her to relieve him of his lust.

She sniffed the air and he knew it wasn’t the horse shit she was smelling. “Oh, Tamlin. The magic. It chose me, didn’t it?”

“Fleur, I can’t.”

“Look at me.” She placed her delicate hands on his chin. “Do you want this?”

“No! I mean, yes. Fleur, there’s nothing more in this world I want but I can’t.”

She paused, deep in thought. “Why can’t you? And not because of the difference in size, why can’t your heart?”

The silver threatened to spill over his lashes. “Because you’re everything, Fleur. I can’t ruin us, ruin you.”

“Then don’t.” She stated plainly.

He took pause at the response. The simplicity of it.

“Ask me what I want, Tam.” Her eyes searched his, wings now fluttering to hover directly in front of his face.

Through heavy breaths he rasped. “What? What is it you want?”

“I want you, Tamlin. I want your friendship. I want your love, your touch. I want to know the electricity of your fingers tracing down my spine, the feel of your lips against mine, to know your body as well as my own. I want you to feel how much I care for you in every way, not just the emotional, the physical too. I want to know what the connection between our souls feels like when you’re buried inside of me, claiming me as yours. Because that is what I am Tamlin, I am yours - if you want me.”

“You’re all I want.” He growled.

“Then have me.”

—————————-

Fuck, she was beautiful - bare before him, spread on his bed like a delicacy, his to feast upon. And he was going to, and he would take a long time reveling in the sweet nectar currently dripping before him. They’d barely made it to his room, his magic cleaning the dirt of the stables off of him and spiriting away their clothes. He’d broken through his reigns at her command, and before shifting to her size, she begged him to shift her to his size, wanting to experience the world as he does.

He wasn’t prepared for the way the shift amplified her already unattainable beauty. Her hair normally appearing a shade so blonde it was nearly light now refracted under the soft fae lights with pastel shades of aqua, pink, and purple. Her skin practically glowed with radiance and her wings, they laid spread beneath her like a stained glass blown by the finest artisan. Forget the ethereal beauty of the High Fae, she was truly otherworldly, a goddess of spring. And he was hers, prepared to worship at her altar.

Her breasts heaved with anticipation as he admired her. The base instinct in him seemed to settle now, as if even it submitted to her.

He watched her with both predatory intent and awe as her round breasts and pert nipples rose and fell with each desperate breath of anticipation.

Stopping him from his final question of “are you sure?” she raised a hand up, the other falling to the apex of her thighs. “Please.” She whispered. “Tamlin, I need you.”

He lost any semblance of control, halting her as she began bringing those luxurious thighs of silken skin together in an attempt to create friction between them. His muscled grip holding them apart. “I’m going to taste you now.”

And taste her he did, he swiped up her center with a broad, flattened maneuver of his tongue. Her essence coated him and he’d never reveled in anything so delicious. He could die a happy male knowing he’d tasted the nectar of the gods. With expert precision his tongue circled her clit in teasing motions, and the moans that fell from her lips were sinful, a siren’s song of lust and temptation, a sound he would play on repeat long after this night.

A hand flew to his hair, tugging on it, her legs falling over his shoulders as he knelt at the edge of the bed. He ran a finger, collecting her essence to ease the slide into her. He groaned at the tight feel of her as his finger slid in, sending vibrations to her clit.

He worked her open with careful diligence, her moans pulling the strings of his ministrations into her core, whatever pulled those sweet songs from her, he paid rapt attention to. He knew she’d never been with anyone and his heart selfishly swelled at the idea of being her first and last, because that’s what this was. Not a one night stand, not just a “rite”, but a claiming of body and soul.

He puffed up with male pride, reveling at the grip of her sex as he slid another lubricated finger into her, this time curling in a way that elicited louder moans from her plush lips. With the next curl of his fingers, he sucked the swollen bud of her clit, humming with satisfaction at the way her body was responding to him. The hand that wasn’t currently wringing delicious whimpers from the female, gripped onto a supple thigh tensing around his shoulders.

A low growl escaped him, vibrating through her core and she shot up, trying to push away from him. He pulled his head back in worry, “What is it? Are you okay?”

Fleur gave a wicked smile. “Yes! I’ve never been better but, when I come at the touch of another for the first time, when I come for you - I don’t want it to be alone. I want to come together. Can we?

And if he hadn’t already been so riled up by the divine female splayed before him, this would have done him in. His eyes rolled back in bliss at the sentiment, “Gods, you are truly a gift.”

With that he scooped her up in a quick motion, depositing her further back on the silken sheets of his bed. There were so many ways he wanted to take her but this first time it would be gentle, he could leash that inner beast and savor this moment with the reverence it deserved.

Purple irises peered up at him filled with adoration, trust, hope, anticipation, so many emotions swirling in those eyes. She propped up on elbows to watch as he reached down once more, filling her with three fingers, so fucking wet and ready for him.

She let out his name in a gasp when he withdrew his fingers, his arm disappearing from between her legs to cradle her neck. She gaped at where his cock stood erect and throbbing, pre-cum leaking from the slit of it.

Leaning down he kissed her forehead and then taking her chin with his thumb and forefinger, emotion dancing in his eyes. “It’s okay, love. I promise I’ll take care of you. Do you trust me?”

She bit her lower lip, the corners tilting up as her eyes raked over the gorgeous muscled male above her, taking all of him in, committing him to memory. Flashing a soft, genuine smile she nodded her head eagerly. “Always.”

With that he gripped his cock with one hand, sliding the head through her slick, and carefully pushed in.

The combined sounds of pleasure emanating from the two could have shaken the walls of the manor. The stretch of his cock against her tight cunt sending waves of bliss through them.

“Please” she whimpered, offering permission for him to sink deeper into her heat.

“Fuck, Flower. I never dreamed you’d be so tight.”

She quirked an eyebrow, simultaneously letting out a moan as he pushed into her inch by inch. “You thought about this?”

He dropped his head to the crook of her neck, his cock now completely enveloped by her - warm, silken walls gripping fitting him like they were custom fit for eachother.

“Oh, gods!” Fleur cried out. “Tamlin, it’s too, it’s so-“

“Shhh baby. You’re doing so good for me.” He praised with soothing coos. And oh, by the flutter he felt around his cock his baby liked to be praised. He tucked that away mentally for safe keeping.

He held still, fighting the primal urge to fuck into her until she was screaming his name. No, there would be time for that later.

He let out a soft chuckle as she shifted her hips, canting them off the bed in a desperate attempt for friction.

“You ready?” He grinned, canines flashing like a fiend.

“I’ve been ready for this. You’re not the only one with a- ooooh” she let out a moan at a slight buck of his hips.

“What was that?” He mocked.

“Mmm” she hummed. “You’re not the only one with an active imagination.”

“Hmm” he feigned consideration. “Well, let me enlighten you, little flower.”

With that he pulled back and thrust into her gently, groaning as her breasts bounced with the motion. “These-“ He rolled a nipple between his fingers, leaning down to suckle at one, pulling back to release it with a pop “are delectable”

She gasped at the sensation and before she could speak further he began moving in a gentle rhythm, her moans reverberated off the walls, a chorus for his own enjoyment.

“There are so many things I want to do to you, do with you, Fleur.” He whispered and she could read in the expression, the way he took her in with such warmth that he meant more than just sexually.

She could only manage another sweet sigh as he pushed into her, increasing his pace and the weight of his thrusts. The way he stretched her and filled her in ways she never dreamed was sending her so close to the edge. “I’m gonna come.” She cried, lips forming that telltale “O”.

“Cum with me, Fleur.” He whispered into the shell of her ear. She shook her head in a “yes”, creases forming across her brow as her face contorted with pleasure.

Tamlin placed a thumb to her clit adding just the pressure she needed to fall over the edge, causing her to shatter around him in squeezing waves as she climaxed. She looked so fucking beautiful coming on him.

Tamlin came as she fell apart around him, with a deep cry of ecstasy he found his release, the heat of him filling her. Tamlin’s eyes screwed shut at the shock running through him with his orgasm, behind his eyelids golden vines swirled and wound from the once darkened depths of his soul into… he opened his eyes to find hers blown wide, not from the magnitude of their climax but from the snap.

“Mate?” He asked.

“Yes!” She cried out. “Mate.”

Fleur didn’t know a lot about mates but she’d heard whisperings of it, a bond so rare and precious. She refused to ruin the moment by contemplating the logistics of it, they may be able to carry out the act of mating but the actual prospect of carrying a child - which seemed to be a key facet of the bond. No, instead of considering she crashed her lips into his, kissing the mate she was blessed with until he dropped his weight off of her, falling to her side and pulling her onto his chest, her wings fluttering joyously with the motion.

“My little flower.” He beamed, pressing a kiss to the top of her pastel hair. “My perfect mate.”

———————————

Epilogue

The morning after their first coupling, Fleur found herself once again tiny, curled up into the warmth of Tamlin’s neck. They found that it took considerable power to shift her size and he could only shift his for specific periods of time, though it was easier. They accepted the bond right away and never looked back. The year’s harvest was the most fruitful in Spring’s history and Tamlin took time rebuilding his court, with his little mate by his side. He was so proud of her, so enamored by the kind, joyous soul he’d fallen so hopelessly in love with. He never minded their difference in sizes and quite honestly, they had fun exploring the various way they could enjoy each other regardless of size. Everything was wonderful. Until the day Lucien and Elain visited, with the sweetest baby one could dream of in tow.

Fleur doted over the child with such wonder. The joy Tamlin so often remembered filling her eyes as she took in his court, and he also felt longing flowing from her through the bond. Tamlin always wanted children and had accepted that it wouldn’t be feasible for them, the shifting being potentially dangerous to a developing child. He could shift to her size but there was always a small chance that the pregnancy could hurt her given that he wasn’t truly a Sprite. Neither were comfortable risking it.

Fleur hid the longing so well, the slight sadness she carried. He knew the sadness had nothing to do with him and that she was otherwise overjoyed with their life but he could understand the pang of grief. He felt it sometimes too, which led him to his study late one night. He’d felt her grief and refused to let his pride hold them back.

One morning, Tamlin woke Fleur early. “We have company coming today.”

She rubbed her bleary eyes as she propped up from her spot against his neck. “What? Who? Are Lucien and Elain back from the continent?”

He gave a smile. “No love, get ready and meet me in the study in an hour. Does that work? I’ll have tea ready for you.”

She gave a curious second look to him but knew her efforts to pry the information from him would be futile.

So an hour later she found herself sitting in the study with Tamlin; his ex-lover, now High Lady of the Night Court, and her mate. Feyre glanced anxiously around the room, placing a hand on her mate’s thigh and giving a soft smile, he returned it in kind. She looked back to Tamlin and Fleur with a smile, eyes alight with hope. “We think we found it. Helion helped, granting us access to dated tomes regarding shifting and ancient High Lords.”

Tamlin gave a small smile and Fleur could feel a huge wave of hope and nervousness down their bond. “Found what?” She asked, not unkindly.

Tamlin looked to her softly. “You don’t have to say yes, and you have plenty of time to think on this if you wish, but…”

Fleur’s legs bounced with excitement, anticipating the next words to fall from her mate’s lips. “We can shift you permanently to the size of a High Fae.” He looked to her cautiously, “I could try to shift to your size permanently but for the purpose of-“

She interrupted him with a squeal, flying to press a kiss to his cheek and then to Feyre and Rhysand as well. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She cried.

The High Lady and High Lord of the Night Court gave her soft smiles before Rhysand asked, “I assume that’s a yes then?”

“Yes!” She squealed. With that Tamlin used his powers to shift her to her High Fae height. Feyre marveling at her wings, studying them with awe. “You’re lovely.” She spoke with nothing but kindness. “Are you sure you want this?” Tamlin asked. She shook her head eagerly. “Yes! I’m positive!”

With that, Tamlin, Feyre, and Rhysand each dropped a kernel of light onto Fleur.

The moment felt magical but nothing felt different afterward. Tamlin and Feyre looked to eachother. “Now,” Feyre spoke. “Try to shift to your Sprite form. Will it into your mind.”

Fleur fought for a moment. “Take a few breaths, love.” Tamlin whispered. So she did, willing the image into her mind once again. And suddenly, she was small. “Oh…” she frowned. “Does this mean it didn’t work?”

“The opposite!” Feyre spoke with glee. “It worked! Can you shift yourself back?”

Understanding fell upon Fleur and she followed the same process, imagining her larger form and taking breaths. To her absolute joy, she grew large again. “You-“ she spoke through broken sobs. “You gave me the ability to shift! I can be this size all the time and shift back into my Sprite form when I wish?”

“Yes.” Tamlin spoke gently, placing his arms around her waist. “You can be whatever you want, flower.”

“I can’t believe this. Thank you all for this gift. How can I ever repay you?”

Rhysand nodded toward Tamlin. “The debt has already been paid.”

Tamlin gave an unreadable look to the High Lord and then to his former lover. “There was never a debt.”

“Congratulations to you both.” Feyre spoke, Rhysand mirroring the sentiment before winnowing away. Tamlin paused finding a note on the chair that Feyre had vacated.

I am happy. Now, it’s your turn.

Tamlin took his mate’s hand in his, discarding the note into a wastebasket. “Shall we begin?”

He laughed as he caught his footing, barely bracing himself for his mate to jump into his arms. Between kisses, she challenged, “Give me all you’ve got, my love.”

————————

Tag: @tamlinweek for the shapeshifter theme

General ACOTAR tag: @lilah-asteria

[justiceforanders]

A Recipe for Disaster

Part of the "Wings and Blades" Lucanis x Rook Stories

Pairing: Lucanis x Rook (she/her)

Rating: G

Words: 1.3k

Available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61026115

Summary: Lucanis attempts to teach Rook how to bake the hazelnut torte. "Attempts" is the keyword.

A Recipe for Disaster is a story written for @meowzilla93, as part of my "Wings and Blades" series exploring the romance between Lucanis and different Rooks.

The Lighthouse kitchen was a wreck. Flour dusted every surface like a fresh snowfall, and smudges of apricot preserves streaked the wooden table. The sink overflowed with bowls, spatulas, and one forlorn whisk leaned precariously over the edge. It was a battlefield of culinary chaos, and at the center stood Delphine de Riva, cheeks dusted with flour, triumphantly holding a mixing bowl in one hand and her dagger in the other.

“Do not move,” she declared, pointing the dagger at Lucanis Dellamorte, who was crouched behind the dining table, clutching a half-empty bag of sugar like it was his most prized possession.

Lucanis peered over the counter, his brown eyes crinkling with amusement. A streak of batter clung to his moustache. “Rook, if I recall correctly, I’m not the one who started this war.”

“You threw the flour first!” Del accused, though the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her delight.

“You were aiming for my head with the eggs. What was I supposed to do?” He stood and sat on the edge of the table, feigning innocence, the sugar still firmly in his grasp.

Del planted the bowl down with a flourish, sending a puff of flour into the air. She sheathed her dagger with casual precision and crossed her arms. “If you wanted me to take you seriously, you wouldn’t have that batter moustache.”

Lucanis wiped at his face, smearing the batter further before realizing his mistake. He gave her a mock glare, and she burst into laughter so loud it filled the entire kitchen. Lucanis’ eyes softened immediately at the sound, his fondness for the other Crow clear as day.

“Fine,” Lucanis sighed dramatically, setting the sugar down. He stepped around the mess toward Del, his boots crunching against what might have been eggshells at some point. “You’ve won,” he added, a small smile on his lips. “Do your worst.”

Del tilted her head, pretending to ponder, her short grey bob bouncing with the movement. “Oh, I’ll do my worst,” she said, reaching for the chocolate icing she’d been attempting to make for the dessert. Before Lucanis could react, she swiped a generous dollop of it onto her fingers and smudged it across his cheek.

Lucanis froze, blinking. Then, slowly, a wicked grin spread across his face. “Oh, amor. You shouldn’t have done that.”

The next few seconds were a blur. Lucanis lunged for the frosting, and Del ducked under his arm with the grace of an assassin, darting to the other side of the table. She grabbed the bag of flour, brandishing it like a weapon.

“One step closer and I’ll…”

She never finished the threat.

Lucanis, faster than she expected, grabbed a handful of frosting and leaped across the table to smear it across her arm.

Del gasped in mock outrage, then hurled the bag of flour at him. It burst open mid-throw, raining down on them like a cloud. When the dust settled, they were both covered in white, their hair powdered, their dark clothes barely visible.

Lucanis coughed, shaking his head like a wet mabari. “You are impossible,” he said, his voice laced with laughter.

“And you’re terrible at dodging. You sure you can handle being the First Talon?” Del shot back with a giggle, wiping her face with the back of her hand, though it only smeared the mess further, mixing with her heavy makeup.

For a moment, they stood there, catching their breath amidst the wreckage of their baking attempt. Del leaned back against the table, blue eyes shining with mirth as she looked at Lucanis. His frame, now thoroughly dusted in flour, still carried that undeniable charm. Even covered in icing and chaos, he managed to look like he belonged on a recruitment poster for the Crows.

“What are we even making?” Del asked finally, gesturing to the disaster around them.

“You wanted to learn how to make the hazelnut torte, no?” Lucanis replied, straightening up and attempting to brush off some of the flour. “At least, that’s what it was supposed to be before you declared war on your First Talon.”

Del snorted, reaching for a damp cloth to wipe her hands. “You started it when you wouldn’t let me mix the batter.”

“You were eating half of it!” he countered, though there was no heat in his words.

“And you weren’t?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Lucanis didn’t deny it. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “Alright, Rook. Let’s finish this before the others come in and decide we’re unfit to use the kitchen ever again. We can’t have Harding taking over our kitchen rotations. Truce?”

Del gave him a mock suspicious look but finally nodded. “Truce. But if you throw anything else at me, I swear I’ll…”

“Relax, Rook.” He reached past her, grabbing a clean bowl. Their hands brushed, and for a brief moment, the playful energy between them shifted. Del’s heart skipped a beat as Lucanis’ fingers lingered just a second too long against hers.

Clearing her throat, she stepped back. “Right. Let’s bake this... Whatever this mess is.”

They worked together, surprisingly well despite the mess. Del handled the frosting while Lucanis focused on finishing the batter. Their banter continued, light and easy, though every so often their eyes met, and the horrors of the world outside the Lighthouse seemed to fade.

Finally, the torte was assembled, though it looked nothing like the one Lucanis had made for Del when they’d decided to give this whole dating thing a try. Still… It was better than anything Del could’ve made on her own.

She slid it onto a plate with a flourish. “Not bad for two assassins who’ve probably spent more time stabbing people than baking.”

Lucanis chuckled, pouring two cups of black coffee and setting them on the table. “Not bad at all. Though, I think you might have used salt instead of sugar for the cake.”

Del’s eyes widened. “You’re joking.”

He smirked. “Only one way to find out.”

She took a tentative bite. Immediately, her nose scrunched. “It’s definitely salt.”

Lucanis burst into laughter, and despite herself, Del joined in, the sound echoing through the messy kitchen.

As they sat at the table sipping their coffee, the torte abandoned, Lucanis glanced at Del, his expression softening. In the dim firelight of the kitchen, surrounded by the chaos they had created, she looked like a masterpiece.

“You know,” he said, his voice quiet, “I think I’ll remember this disaster more fondly than any flawless mission we’ve ever pulled off.”

Del looked up, startled by the tenderness in his tone. Her blue eyes searched his face for a moment before a soft smile curved her lips. “Careful, Lucanis. If you keep saying things like that, I might think you enjoy my company.”

“I do,” he replied simply, the sincerity in his voice making her heart stumble.

Del blinked, her smile growing a little wider. “Well, you’re alright too,” she teased, though the warmth in her tone betrayed her affection. She nudged the abandoned torte in the center of the table with a finger. “Even if you’re a terrible teacher.”

Lucanis chuckled, reaching out to place his hand over hers. “And you, Rook, are a terrible student.” His fingers squeezed hers gently. “But I wouldn’t trade this mess for anything.”

Del glanced at their joined hands, warmth creeping into her cheeks. The playfulness of their earlier battle still lingered in the air, but now it was underpinned with something softer – something unspoken but deeply felt. She tilted her head and quirked a brow. “Not even for a proper hazelnut torte?”

“Not even for that,” Lucanis said, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Black Light 4

Warnings: namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You check yourself in the mirror. The black bob isn’t a bad look. You tilt your head back and forth making the sleek strands wiggles back and forth. The sunglasses complete the look and you ponder overhauling your usual style. You look dangerous.

You resist scratching under the wig and give yourself a smile. You look almost devilish in the get up but you can’t chance being recognised on your mission. No, this is very important. This is revenge. Served tepid.

You sneak out the backdoor and check your phone. You have another message from your new friend. She texted you earlier that she had a new cell already. You hang onto yours like gold, you’re not really sure what you would do if you lost it. Probably turn to the primitive lifestyle.

‘I’m headed to the club, meet you at the cafe.’

‘Sure thing, 🐔💸’ You text.

She texts back a simple question mark.

‘Chicken wing’ you clarify and smack your forehead. You’re such a dweeb. You follow up quickly; I’ll be there.

You head downtown, catching a bus halfway and tossing the transfer. You could use the walk as your nerves are starting to flurry. You approach the cafe and see your friend. She wears a denim skirt and an off-the-shoulder red shirt. Her shoes are the same shade as her top. She looks towards you then the other way, not acknowledging your approach.

You near and give a short ‘psst’. She whips around and sneers in your direction before blanching and saying your name.

“Like it?” You pull down your sunglasses. “I feel like Sandy from Grease. Well, more like Rizzo.”

“Uh, sure, why are you dressed like that?”

“Oh, I didn’t want that guy to recognize me so I figure I could sneak in like this.”

“Ah,” she nods and lets out a sigh, “right. Well, try going to the other one when they card ya.”

“That works too. You’re so clever.”

“Thanks,” she says dully, “come on.”

You give a bounce and follow her down the street. She marches on, set on her path as you skip to keep up. She’s a lot more graceful in her heels. And angry. You worry about Cole, he might not be ready for what she has in store.

“Hopefully that jackass is there but those types usually don’t have anything else going on,” she snarls as if reading your mind.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You make sure you point him out when you see him. And don’t get to close, I’ll take care of him. No drinks, either. Let’s not take that chance.”

“Sounds like a plan. Well, kind of.”

“Don’t worry, I can slip this guy something. Don’t you worry. Men are stupid, he gets distracted by his next mark and I’ll strike first,” she turns the corner and you flutter along with her, joining the queue outside the club.

“You’re so brave,” you admire.

“No, I’m pissed,” she insists as she crosses her arms, slowly shifting with the line.

You peek out around the bodies. You see that man, Auggy. He’s scowling at an ID. You watch him and his eyes flick up as if he can sense you. You recoil quickly and put your chin down.

“Hey, be cool,” your friend touches your elbow, “busy tonight, you just gotta blend in.”

“Mmm, yeah,” you murmur, “I just… I don’t know what I did. I was nice–”

“He’s an old grump,” she scoffs, “who cares how he feels.”

You approach the front of the line and make sure to veer towards the other bouncer, the one with the pudgy belly. He barely looks at your card as he waves you inside. The two of you enter to the buzz of the crowd and blare of speakers. 

“Now, we hunt,” she says, “keep your phone on you. You get close to him, let me know. Oh, and take a picture if you can.”

“Right, uh…”

“I’ll get upstairs, you stay down here,” she directs, “we’ll meet back up in half an hour if we can’t find him.”

“Sure.”

“Look, I got you. Anyone gives you trouble, text me. And give em a punch like I showed you.”

You put your fist up and pat your elbow as you reenact the brief lesson she gave you earlier. She smiles and squeezes your arm.

“Good,” she praises, “now, let’s do this.”

She turns and struts off. You admire her from afar. She’s so cool. And she likes you, you think. She’s a lot nicer than Amanda or Kam. You frown and spin around, looking around at the dancing figures and the bar shining at the far end of the room.

Where to begin…

You twiddle your fingers and give a huff. You have to get in the mindset. The grindset. The findset. Find him. Hmm, you’re not great with faces…

You go to take a step forward and you're suddenly hauled back by your arm. You yipe. No one around you reacts as you’re slammed against the wall, a shadow towering over you. You look up as your sunglasses are torn away and a light is shone in your face. The bouncer lets out a gravelly growl as the small bulb of the flashlight glares in your eyes.

“I knew it was you,” he grits.

“Oh, hi, Auggy!” You chime, “how are you?”

“Don’t act like you fucking know me,” he clicks off the light and leans down until your encased in the blackness of his silhouette. “You don’t want to know me.”

[tothebestofmyabilities]

@seemoreseymoursbay day 3! OC day

So in the episode 'Bad Tina' Zeke mentions that his dads girlfriend just had a baby, assuming that the dads gf he talks about in early seasons is Cheryl his step mom and that the father of that baby is Zekes dad we can also assume that Zeke has a very young half sibling. And I did go ahead and assume all those things so this is Zekes baby sister Cherish (Cherry for short).

Used the prompt wonder wharf

Im gonna talk some more about her under the cut bc im sure that will devolve into infodumping zeke lore/headcanons and i dont want anyone to get stuck scrolling past a wall of text

Interestingly she's the only oc i have that's part of a different piece of media rather than one of my own projects.

She's a spunky little toddler for sure she's always got tons of energy, she's extremely confident and fearless constantly running off when she sees something that excites her or to ask strangers questions. She has a big sweet tooth but also loves spicy foods, off the top of my head I don't think its been discussed in canon where Zeke is from originally but recently I've been thinking of him and his bio mom as being from louisiana (projection on my part my mom is from louisiana and bc I like Zeke as a chef and the food there is soo good) I love the idea that his mom taught him to cook the local dishes and that he makes them for Cherry. She dresses in a chaotic mix of her own love of bright, clashing rainbow colors and dingey hand-me-downs from Zekes childhood and from their other cousins. I definitely think Zeke has adhd and Cherry does as well.

I tend to draw her/think of her around age 2 1/2- 3 (so when zeke is 16ish) but in canon time she'd still be a newborn. I love the idea of Zeke with a young sibling he's portrayed in the show as being super caring, protective of and loyal to the people be cares about, and good with younger kids all of which read as big brother qualities to me and he's also mentioned wanting siblings hes closer too. (He mentioned having a 44 year old brother in Presto Tina-o but also has said his bio mom was pregnant with him at her prom which is probably just a continuity error with his throway lines but taken at face value makes his dad out to be a gross old creep which is my personal headcanon idk if there's anyone out there who are big fans of Zeke's dad and step mom but my headcanons do not paint them in a nice light so beware of that)

Based on pretty much everything Zeke has ever said about his family I get the impression that the adults in his life are pretty neglectful and irresponsible and definitely not super present (he rarely ever speaks about his dad I hc him having a job that keeps him away from the family most of the time probably something like trucking and Zeke has mentioned Cheryl being an alcoholic I also hc her as much younger than the dad maybe she's a bartender? I definitely see her having a nightlife kind of job also for reference picture her as a redhead with blue eyes and a lot of tattoos that's where cherry gets her eyes and freckles)

I believe with Cherry a lot of parenting responsibilities would be placed on Zeke and while i think he has qualities that are really well suited to that the parentification of an older sibling is not ok and would negatively impact him, I like the idea of him applying for a job at Bob's Burgers bc he needs a more stable way to provide financially than doing odd jobs around town and not only getting a job but also getting a support system and adults who care about him and his sister and their wellbeing. I think Bob would take Zeke under his wing and help him make himself and his education a priority (the belchers helping out with Cherry when they can so he can focus more on school and extra curriculars) and help him get into a culinary school after graduation. Linda would fall completely in love with her (we know how much she loves babies) and basically treat Cherry like she's her own grandbaby. They all babysit her when needed but Louise is her favorite babysitter and maybe person also she really looks up to Louise and likes to imitate her fashion style and the way she speaks, Louise would pretend that this annoys her but not so secretly finds it adorable.

Anyways clearly i could go on and on but ill just cut myself off there hope y'all like her!

[green-eyedfirework]

“Anyone ever tell you that dragons are possessive, little thief?” Slade asks conversationally, as though he hasn’t got the human pinned under one clawed hand, towering above him with wings flared.  His cave is alight with merrily dancing flames and even with one eye, Slade’s eyesight is good enough to see the way they flicker in the thief’s wide blue eyes.

“I—I wasn’t—I’m not,” the little thief stutters, breaking off with a gasp as Slade presses him flat against the stone.  “I’m sorry!” comes out higher-pitched, “I—I apologize, I didn't mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to steal from a dragon?” Slade finishes helpfully.  Watching the impertinent little shit sneak through his cave had been almost entertaining enough to excuse being woken from a nap.  Especially his squeak when he saw Slade staring straight at him.

The little thief tried to run before Slade’s tail cut him off from the entrance and Slade’s claws trapped him in a cage.

“What were you looking for, anyway?”

“...Dragon scales,” the quiet voice admits hesitantly.

Bold little thief.  Dragon scales are very valuable.  Slade’s seen them used in jewelry and in metal-working and for magic.  It also explains why the little thief ignored the piles of gold and jewels and finery to creep towards the dry, cracking patch of scales on Slade’s back foot.

“And you thought you could waltz right in here and take them, little thief?”

“I’m not—” the human starts before he cuts himself off.  “I’m sorry.  I—I really need those scales.  Please.”

Slade hums consideringly.  This is truly an interesting diversion—and a pretty prize.

Usually Slade’s prey doesn’t wander right into his den, but he’s not complaining.

“What’s your name, little thief?” Slade asks.  Desperation is a good look on him.  His dark hair is ruffled, his skin gleams in the firelight, and those blue eyes shine like sapphires.

The thief swallows before replying and Slade watches his throat bob.  “Dick,” he says, “Dick Grayson.”

“And what would you do in return for my scales?” Slade asks.  Dick’s expression flits to relief as he inhales sharply.  Slade doesn’t let himself grin, not yet.  Lull the little thief into thinking he’ll get what he wants, let him taste the fruits of his greed, and he won’t let go.

“You’ll give them to me?” the thief’s voice cracks with hope.

“I’m sure we can work out a deal,” Slade lets himself show each and every one of his fangs.  The little thief shivers.  “Depends on how badly you want those scales.”

“What’s the deal?” Dick asks bravely.

Slade lowers his head until he’s looking at the little thief from a distance close enough to devour him.  “I’ve been looking for a bedwarmer,” Slade says, voice low and deep, “Satisfy me, little thief, and I’ll give you your scales.”

Dick’s eyes widen to the size of saucers.  He stops breathing, literally, looking up at Slade like he’s expecting Slade to take him like this, and Slade allows himself the chuckle as he shifts forms.  When the transformation ends, Slade’s straddling the little thief, human-sized hands keeping him pinned to the ground.

Dick takes a shaky, trembling breath.  His heart is thrumming like a hummingbird’s.  His expression is close to relief, though still too desperate to qualify, and Slade grins.  This form may be smaller but it is by no means small.

“Well?” Slade asks.  It’s been a long time since he’s had some stress relief.

“Alright,” the human’s voice is hoarse, “I agree to the deal.”

“Fantastic,” Slade purrs, leaning over Dick, “Let’s get started.”

~#~

Dick has to fight to not back himself all the way until he tumbles out of the nest he’s been led to.  It’s lined with soft furs and pillows, sinfully decadent, and Dick has never felt more terrified as he edges away from the dragon stalking in.

Slade, he introduced himself, after Dick was able to calm down from the near panic attack of a dragon wanting to fuck him, and even in human form the dragon is nearly twice the size of him.  Silver hair, a dark eyepatch, a dark orange-and-black scaled suit that ripples above his skin.

Dick’s gaze wanders to his crotch, and he swallows thickly.  The bulge is…large.

“Here, little thief.”  The dragon tosses something at him and Dick nearly fumbles the catch.  “Prepare yourself.”

It’s a bottle of oil.  Dick stares at it, heart thundering in his ears.  He can’t believe this is happening.  But he needs those scales, and this is the only way.

“Or do you want me to do it for you?”  Dick snaps his gaze up and Slade’s grin is wicked as he flexes a claw-tipped hand.  Dick can’t entirely suppress the shudder as he sits up hastily and gets to removing his clothes.  He doesn’t want those claws anywhere near him, human-sized or not.

He can still feel the crushing weight on his chest, the surging terror when he realized he was caught, he failed, the dragon had him and wasn’t going to let him go—

“A better prize than I imagined,” the dragon says, low and heated and Dick looks up from the pile of his clothes to see Slade eyeing his naked body like it’s something to be devoured.  He shivers, and Slade’s gaze grows more intense.