#if someone outside the US calls me a yank i will wear the name with pride

[contortionyx]

To me, anyone in the northeast of the US can be called a yank. A YankEE however is a fan of the baseball team.

yank poll incoming

Bonus points if you tag where you're from and your answer. thank you kisskiss

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Bully x Reader x Yan!Freak Pt 2

"Boys Night Plus One."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Bullying, name calling, degradation, violence, non-consensual photos, nonconsensual touching, male pronouns for the yans, mentions of school, general perversion, toxic behaviors, creep behavior, cum, masturbation, male and female genitalia.

Part 1 here

(AN: This one is for you, anon who sent me a bullet-point list of some ideas for Ahmed and Patrick which were better than anything I could have come up with. I love you.)

You groan, struggling to yank off the cotton top you had taken to wearing for PE class. You had been sick for a week or so, and in order to stay up on your grades you had been doing classwork after school. Today, you are making up some time for gym class using the school's exercise facilities. Once you finally get it off, you unlock your locker and put your gym clothes inside, reapplying your deodorant and putting on your school shirt. Just as you shut your locker, you hear the door of the girl's locker room flap shut, and you perk up at the sound. That's odd, after a few days of working out after school, you've never run into anyone else using the facilities.

"Hello?" You call out, peering around the row of lockers. Suddenly, a fist slams into the locker behind you, making you shriek. You whip around, to see Patrick, the schools most notorious bully laughing his ass off at how spooked you got. "Patrick!" You yell, smacking him lightly. "Ooh, feelin' fiery, huh?" He takes a breath, calming himself after laughing so hard. "What's got you so pissed off?" You roll your eyes.

"You scared me, and you're in the girls locker room!" He fakes shock, and looks around. "Really, the girls locker room? Huh, wonder how I wound up here..." He muses, playfully leaning up against the lockers. "If it was the boys locker room, why would I be here?" You ask. He shrugs. "I don't know, maybe you were tryna' sneak a peek at some dudes after football practice." He grins, leaning over you a little more. "Or maybe you wanted one of them to sneak a peek at you." You blush, and push him away. "Go away, Patrick, there's no reason for you to be here right now." You try to quickly gather your things, and make your way to the door.

"Woah, woah, hey, where ya' going? I'm just checking on you. You haven't been to class lately, I was getting worried." He uses your moment of surprise to grip your wrist and gently pull you back over. "I was sick, just needed some time away from class. Why does that matter to you?" You ask, confused. He's always enjoyed tormenting you, and you would think you were special if he didn't also torment everyone else. Of course, Patrick knows where you've been, because he's had Ahmed posted outside your bedroom for the duration of your absence, both to get photos and make sure you aren't hanging out with anybody else. He shrugs again. "I missed seeing you in these." He reaches into your gym bag, gripping one of the pairs of gym shorts and pulling them out. "Y'know, I don't think these follow the dress code..." Admittedly, you needed to get some new shorts. These ones were small, but you just hadn't gotten around to buying new ones. "Gym class is already fuckin' boring, especially when I can't see your sweet little ass bent over, trying to do toe-touches or yoga or whatever the fuck we're supposed to in that sweaty shit-hole."

You only blush and grab the shorts from him, stuffing them back into your bag. "Well, I'm sure you managed fine without me. There's plenty of girls to perv on that aren't me." You whimper. Patrick chuckles, and shakes is head. "Yeah, but I don't want any of them." He pauses, then clicks his tongue. "That reminds me though, I did make a friend while you were gone. I had a lot of free time since you weren't around to play with." You glance up at him. "Another member of your gang?" You ask. The last thing this school needs is even more assholes hanging out with Patrick. "Nope. It's someone I knew before you left, but I've made amends with them. Patched things up, self-improved." He brags. He looks down at you smugly. "You should be proud of me, I'm a changed man."

"What do you mean?" You aren't sure what previous acquaintance he's referring to. Due to Patrick's widespread terror, it could be pretty much anyone. "You know that new kid, Ahmed?" Your mouth opens in shock. You had heard things about the new boy, with dark hair and wide eyes. You had noticed him a few times in English class. He was always quiet, only occasionally speaking when he was being picked on by the other kids, quietly protesting the abuse. You had traded poetry a few times for an assignment. He seemed very creative. You weren't really sure why the other kids picked on him so much, but you suspected it was because Ahmed was Patrick's new favorite. You had heard of the things he'd done to Ahmed, robbing him, beating him, stealing his classwork. You didn't do anything, how could you? Patrick hated when people stood up to him, and you didn't want his attention on you anymore than it was.

"You're... friends with him now." Patrick nods. "That's cruel, Patrick. You can't do all that stuff to somebody, then force them to play friends with you. It's not right!" You exclaim, boldly defying him for a moment. He only exhales lightly, and puts his hands up in surrender. "You got it all wrong, baby. We are friends, me and him. We've made amends. I told you, I'm changing. I'm a reformed juvenile." He looks up to see if you're buying it. He pouts when he notices you still seem skeptical. "Alright, I guess I'm not 'reformed', exactly, but me and him really are friends now." You only nod, hoping he will drop it and go away. This reaction makes him scoff. "You still don't believe me? Fine, I'll tell you what. I'm going over to see Ahmed at his house tonight, to hang out. Why don't you come with me?" He offers.

You shake your head no quickly. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Patrick." You exclaim. "Well, if you do go, and see me and him are friends, you'll know I'm not such a bad guy, and you might like my new friend. If you don't go though..." He chuckles lowly. "Me and this guy may not be friends... and by not going, your risking this kid getting beat up in his own home. Do you want that on your conscience?" You bite your lip, but shake your head. "No, you don't. I could handle that, but you couldn't, pretty thing. So come on, grab your shit and head over there with me, alright?" You make no movements, and Patrick groans, grabbing your gym-bag. "Fine, since I told you I'm changing, and I'm a gentleman, I'll carry your stuff." His free hand grabs your wrist. You both walk out of the school doors towards the bus stop. As you stand waiting for the bus, he leans in, his lips almost brushing your ear. "We're taking the city bus, and it's late enough that it's gonna be crowded." You nod, not sure where he's going with this. "Lots of hard working people want a seat, and we should give it to them. Being good members of the community and all that shit." He sighs. "So whether or not there's a free seat for you, I expect that ass on my lap for the whole ride, you feel me?" You blush, and look at him with wide eyes. He chuckles, leaning back from your ear. "Gotta save some room for everyone else. Besides, I'm plenty comfortable."

Ahmed is sitting on his bed, foot bouncing at a pace so rapidly it practically shakes his whole scrawny form. He stares at the clock, counting the seconds until Patrick shows up. He promised, promised he'd have a way of getting you here. After weeks and weeks of photographing you from a distance, Patrick promised he would finally get to be near you, talk with you. Ahmed wasn't exactly sure how Patrick was going to accomplish this, but he knew given his reputation it would be easier for Patrick to get a hold of you than him. He just hoped whatever Patrick did, it wouldn't be as severe as what he endured before Patrick and him entered a truce. He didn't want you in his house for the first time, scared and unsure why you were brought there. No! He wanted his new house guest to be comfortable. His room was dark, with books, figures, and posters strewn about. He did his best to make it homey though. He opened the curtains, cleaned out any trash, (hid his camera and photo collection). He was sure Patrick was going to laugh at him for all this, seeing as Patrick had seen the state his room was in before. Ahmed shakes his head. He wasn't worried about Patrick right now. No, he was ready to see you, talk with you. Maybe... maybe even get to touch you.

The door creaks, and Ahmed hears footsteps approaching. Heavy boots, followed by the light patter of smaller feet. He bites his lip to the point it almost breaks skin. Patrick had done it. You were waiting just outside his room.

He hops back onto his bed, trying to look as casual as possible as the blonde menace he now called a friend traipsed in, with you behind him. "Ahmed... looks like you cleaned up a little in here. Huh." Patrick looks around, hands in his pockets as he leans against Ahmed's bed frame. "Ahmed, I believe you know my new friend." Patrick motions at you. Ahmed nods quickly. "Uh, yeah. We have an English class together." He says. "It's nice to actually meet you Ahmed, you and Patrick are-" You sigh. "Friends?" Ahmed nods. "Yeah, we actually have a lot in common..." He chuckles, shrugging. "Crazy, huh?" He coughs awkwardly. You nod, still not fully convinced.

"See, baby? I told ya' there's nothing shifty going on here! Me and Ahmed are just best buds." Patrick flops onto Ahmed's bed, bouncing the boy up a little as he wraps an arm around him, his grip rough on Ahmed's shoulder. 'Best buds' wasn't really a term Ahmed would use, especially considering two days ago Patrick was pounding Ahmed into this very bed, making the scrawny outcast cry and beg for his cock to go just a little deeper, just a little faster to give him that relief. Of course, Patrick was a jerk, and didn't let him reach that peak for at least three hours into the session, when Ahmed's parents came home. Patrick enjoyed making the boy finally cum on his cock, while trying to muffle his cries knowing his parents were just downstairs.

"So, w-would you like to watch a movie, or play a game? I've got Mario Kart, and Mortal Kombat-" Ahmed lists off a few more games, hoping something would catch your attention and endear him to you. You smile awkwardly, but shake your head. You hadn't really planned on staying, considering you were so sure that Patrick was just tormenting this poor boy. "I actually should get going, it's a Friday night, I don't want to intrude on your boys time." You move to grab your gym stuff, and Ahmed's face falls. He looks at Patrick, glancing at you and silently begging Patrick to do something. Anything, just to keep you here longer. "Calm down, I'll fuckin' handle it." Patrick whispers, before running a hand through his hair and turning back to you. "C'mon, baby! We don't mind you hanging out. Besides, Ahmed's had kind of a rough time in our school. I'm the only friend he's got." Ahmed blushes, not realizing the strategy was to make him look like a pathetic loser. "Patrick-" Patrick shoves his shoulder and continues. "Don't you wanna help him make at least one more friend?" You hesitate at the door, before sighing. It certainly isn't healthy for someones only friend to be Patrick, so you nod. "Fine, I'll stay..."

Several hours go by, and after two movies, four rounds of Mario Kart, and one two-liter of Sprite later, you are on the verge of passing out. You aren't really sure what happens in the next few minutes, but all you know is you are now laying in Ahmed's bed, with Patrick to your right and Ahmed squished on your other side, between you and the wall. Patrick fell asleep first, oddly enough. For a guy with so much energy, he gets sleepy quick. Now it's just you and Ahmed.

"Sorry about this, I didn't realize it was so late..." Ahmed apologizes. He isn't sorry. He imagined hundreds of ways this evening could go, but none of them ended with you pressed up against him, in his bed. God, you were getting your scent all over his sheets and his t-shirt. "M' never gonna wash these sheets again." He mumbles to himself. "Mm- what?" You ask groggily, making him jolt and blush. "Nothing, sorry." You go back to trying to sleep, and eventually pass out.

Ahmed tries to sleep as well, but just as he closes his eyes, he feels a weight on top of him. He gasps, and opens his eyes to see Patrick on top of him. "Come on, freak. We've got work to do." He sits back on the boys lap, allowing him to sit up. "Wha- I thought you were asleep." Patrick scoffs, and shakes his head. "Nah, just knew she wouldn't want to fall asleep around big bad me if she thought I was awake. But, I am. Now go find your camera." Ahmed looks confused, making Patrick roll his eyes. "Come on, you didn't think we were just gonna have a sleepover, did you? Tell secrets and make friendship bracelets like a fuckin' girl scout troop? We have a chance to get some close-up shots we could never get otherwise right now. Maybe even get a feel of her, now hurry up." The plan now confirmed, Ahmed scrambles as quietly as he can off the bed, practically throwing himself onto the floor as he blindly feels around under his bed for the camera. He knocks some stuff around, making Patrick his. "Shut the fuck up!" He whispers harshly. "M' sorry! It's dark." Ahmed whines. Finally, his fingers close around cold metal the camera, and he climbs back onto the bed beside Patrick.

"I'm ready. Just tell me when to snap a picture, and I'll do it." Patrick nods. "Heh, I've always wanted to see what's under this shirt." Patrick carefully slides the thin cotton up, not removing it from you but placing it just under your chin, exposing your breasts to the two boys. "Why doesn't she have a bra?" Ahmed asks. "She was coming back from the gym, already took off her sports bra, I guess. It's in her back over there, if you wanna smell it or some shit." Ahmed blushes. "S-smell it?" He stammers. "I don't know, you're the freak here. I'm just guessing that's something you're into." He isn't wrong.

"God, she's got a nice little pair, huh?" Patrick motions for Ahmed to snap a few photos. "Get one of my hands on em' too." Patrick's large hands cup your breasts, his thumb barely brushing past the nipple. Once Ahmed get's the photos, Patrick begins to gently rub his thumb and fore-finger over the nipples, watching as the delicate buds harden. "Fuck, I always like them better when there hard n' shit. Seeing them poke through t-shirts. I caught her out in the cold once, took everything in me to not make her pop em' out right there in the alley behind the school." Patrick smiles and the memory. Ahmed squirms, causing his friend to take notice.

"Gimme your camera." Patrick orders. "Wha- no! This, this camera is everything to me!" Patrick just groans at the boys pleading. "I'm not gonna' break it, freak. Just giving you a chance to free up your hands so you can play with her tits too." Ahmed looks between Patrick and your breasts, which are now peaking in arousal at Patrick's teasing. He sighs. "Okay, fine." Patrick takes the camera, and Ahmed places two hands on your breasts, squeezing ever so gently. "Wow, they're really soft, except for her nipples, I guess..." Patrick restrains himself from laughing so loud he'll wake you up. "God, you are such a fuckin' virgin. Do something photo-worthy, for fucks sake." Patrick eggs Ahmed on, and in a moment of boldness, the boy places a kiss on your collarbone, before slowly trailing his way down to your left breast. After a bit of careful kissing and teasing, his chapped lips find your nipple, latching gently.

"Shit... there you go." Ahmed is so lost in the taste of your soft skin that he doesn't register the camera flashing a few times as Patrick snaps some pictures. What he does hear however, is the soft, wanton moan that escapes your lips. He pulls back, eyes wide as he looks at Patrick. Patrick seems just as shocked, but this is quickly replaced with a toothy grin. "C'mon, clearly your making her feel good. Grab at her shorts, I wanna see if she's wet from us just playing with her girls." Patrick insists, and Ahmed obliges. Trembling fingers pull at your shorts, slowly inching them down your relaxed thighs. "Hurry up-' "I'm trying! It's hard when she's asleep, not exactly cooperating." Ahmed eventually gets the thin shorts down your legs, just above your knees in case they need to move them back up in a hurry. To his delight, he managed to hook your underwear down with them, leaving your soft mound exposed to the two boys.

Ahmed's nimble fingers move to spread your lips, the strings of slick breaking apart as he parts them, coating his fingers. He almost finishes right there, seeing the light of the camera as Patrick snaps a picture reflect off of your slick, letting them know just how soaked you are. "Fuckin' soaked... just from a bit of teasing." Patrick groans, making sure to get a picture of both your holes and Ahmed's fingers parting the folds around them. "Is that not normal?" Patrick shrugs. "I don't know, some people are more sensitive than others, I guess. Especially when they haven't been touched." Ahmed's eyes light up at that, and he whips his head towards Patrick.

"You- you think there's a chance she hasn't... y'know..." Ahmed trails off. "We're literally taking nudes of her cunt right now, just say 'had sex', 'fucked', anything. Jesus." The weaker boy shrinks into himself at the blonde's words. "I mean, it's possible. I've never heard of any guy doin' her, and I've never seen her with another guy around school." Patrick continues. "Isn't that your fault?" Ahmed asks, making his new friend chuckle. "Maybe. You're the one who's been outside her window for the past month, ever seen a guy over?" Ahmed shakes his head no. "Then maybe she's just been waiting for the right guy to come and show her a good time." Patrick moves a little closer to Ahmed, pressing himself against the boy's back. For the first time, Ahmed isn't bothered by Patrick towering over his smaller frame. "Well, right guys, y'know." Ahmed doesn't respond, his mind filling with ideas of what might happen, that night when him and Patrick finally get to be your firsts.

Would you be scared? He'd comfort you as best he could, but Patrick wouldn't be much help with that, (though he knows Patrick can be gentle when he really wants something.) Ever the anxious mess, he can't even focus on his fantasies without worrying. He needed to get condoms, and were you on birth control? Patrick should definitely get tested first, who knows what he's got going on. If Patrick takes you first, what should he do? He's content to sit in the corner and play with himself, but he know's Patrick would only make fun of him for 'not getting any'. A final thought strikes him. Would he be jealous? Would you like Patrick better? You've known him longer, and he's definitely more popular. He's pretty, whereas Ahmed is skinny and feral-looking. He's drawn out of his panic by the sound of a zipper.

"Whatcha thinkin' bout, 'Mhed?" Patrick asks. He can tell when his little freak-friend is spiraling. "You wanna touch her, huh?" Ahmed nods. He can feel the rough, calloused hands of Patrick palming his cock through his boxers. He shudders. "So much. I want... god, can I take her first?" Ahmed begs, gasping as Patrick pulls down his waistband, letting his cock stick out. Patrick gently rubs his thumb on Ahmed's tip, collecting a bead of pre-cum. "Maybe. You still' passing science?" Ahmed furrows his brow at the odd question. Why was Patrick asking about classes while he jerks him off over your sleeping form. "Yeah, I'm doing p-pretty well in all my classes..." He replies. He tosses his head back into Patrick's shoulder as the strong delinquent begins to stroke his length with quick, tight strokes. Patrick's free arm wraps around Ahmed's stomach, pinning the boy's back to his broad chest. "Gimme your notes for all your classes then. If you're good for me, n' keep proving you're worth something-" Another harsh stroke. Ahmed is on the verge. "Then maybe I'll let you be the one to break in her sweet little hole." Ropes of white, hot cum spill from Ahmed's cock as he cries out, before quickly biting his lip to try and silence himself. If you woke up now, there would be no way him and Patrick could make an excuse to get out of this. Just the thought of being your first leaves Ahmed so emotional that as his cock twitches in pleasure, he can feel himself tearing up.

"Are you fucking crying?" Patrick presses his lips to Ahmed's cheek, getting a taste. "You get jerked off one time thinking about our pretty girl and you fuckin' cry. Maybe you aren't ready to be her first." Ahmed gags, and turns around. He moves his arms, frantically whispering, begging. "No, no! I won't cry then, I'll be good. I'll make her feel good, please. I- I've gotta be her first, you don't-" Patrick shushes him. "You've got a long way to go. I think you and I will have to practice some more, making sure you last longer than you did just now." Patrick leans to the side, taking in the sight of your nude torso now decorated with Ahmed's cum. He grins. "Alright, here's the deal. You take some photos real quick, make sure we can see the pretty paint-job you gave her." Ahmed blushes as Patrick stands. "Where are you going?"

"Gotta go get some wipes, and I gotta be quick about it."

[omega-e123]

How would shadow react if you got injured on accident? Recently got injured and had to get stitches and I love your stories so I was wondering what he would do and how he would take care of them 😁

Shadow’s shoes were left unattended by the front door. What psychopath would wear shoes around the house and track dirt?

A short while ago, Shadow excused himself to go to the bathroom. Ever since you two met, you’ve always wanted to try them on. The golden opportunity has finally presented itself.

You plucked them from their spot and proceeded to put them on in the back yard. They were heavy and it’s no wonder why his kicks packed a punch even while not rocket boosted. It took a bit of conscious effort to lift your feet off the ground.

How did he manage to hover in place? On the outside and in, the shoes had a fairly simple and smooth design. No bottons, slides, nothing. Not that you’ve ever seen him do anything in particular to activate them.

Moving to one end of the yard, you break into a sprint. With a little speed it might turn on. It felt as if someone had duck taped 5 pound weights to your feet.

The back door opens with a call of your name. “What are you—,” Shadow was about to ask before being interrupted by a screech combined with rough tumbling into your patio table. In no time at all, bare feet patter against the warm concrete.

Some dirt mixed with blood cakes your palms and knees. With a loud guttural groan, you rolled yourself over to sit on your butt. In front of you, Shadow is knelt down on one knee. His brows knitted together in concern.

The voice that wanted to scold you for your clumsiness is shoved far into the back of his mind. Instead he tenderly takes your hands and brings it closer to his face, inspecting the damage.

A kiss is pressed to your knuckles. “Are you alright? What in the world were you doing?,” he asks, not a speck of anger laced in his words.

“I uhh.. wanted to try out your shoes? I don’t get it. How do they turn on? You usually just start running.

Your legs are next to be checked out. “They work by channeling chaos energy. That’s how I’m able to control the output… Can you stand? Careful not to hit your head.”

Shadow covers the edge of the table with one hand while the other helps you up. A sharp pain is sent to your hip as you rise eliciting a wince and a whine.

“Allow me to help clean your injuries. The last thing we want is to have them get infected.” An arm worms its way around your waist for support. Slow and steady he guides you to the restroom. Of course he’d notice you attempting to hide your limp. A sharp exhale leaves him.

After sitting you down on the toilet seat, he begins to clean the scrapes with a wet towel. Straight to work. Not a single word has been uttered since walking back inside the house. His lips pressed tight, you’re sure Shadow is clenching his jaw.

Guilt of worrying him and possibly damaging his shoes settle in. A mumbled, “I’m sorry” causes Shadow’s ear to flick.

Devoid of emotion he immediately replies, “Next time you want to use my stuff as playthings, ask first.”

His eyes are lasered in at the task at hand. Thankfully, once the blood has been cleaned up, your scrapes don’t look as bad. Nothing a giant bandage can’t fix.

With the final bandage literally slapped on the palm of your hand, he announces ‘done’. Shadow starts to pack up the medical supplies, well aware you’re pouting at him.

“That hurt!”

“Of course it did. That is what happens when you’re not careful,” he deadpans, knowing you had meant the little ‘slap’.

This guy! You’re already in pain and he adds on to it. “Shadow, you put it on wrong. Look, it’s crooked and peeking out.”

Before he puts the kit away, he pulls out one extra bandaid and slips it aside. “Did I?,” Shadow glances at it, “It looks fine to me.”

“No it’s not. Fix it!” You shove your poor aching hand into his face.

Shadow yanks it out of his face. “Alright. Fine.” The old bandage chucked into the trash and the new one replaces its spot with less roughness. He holds your wrist in place while he presses his lips to the bandage. “Is that better?”

“…Yes.”

“Good. I just want to make sure: does anywhere else hurt?”

“Well, I think I busted up my lips earlier too.”

A chuckle escapes him. Smiling, shaking his head, Shadow replies, “I was hoping you would address your limp…” His hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking your bottom lip. “But I don’t mind taking care of this first.”

[cakerybakery]

Lucifer liked the rain. He got to wear his favouritest duck boots, bright yellow with little cheery eyes and a painted on beak. If he hopped, they made a squeaky noise like a quack.

Hop. ‘Quack’. Hop. ‘Quack’. Hop. ‘Quack’.

His mom always let him wear them on rainy days.

Taking a big jump he splashed in the big mud puddle in a dip in the yard.

He giggled as the muddy water washed over his splash suit.

“What are you doing?” Asked a small voice from the other side of the hedge separating his backyard from the neighbour’s just before the fence began.

A boy about his age in a blue rain jacket was watching him.

“Splashing.” He hopped in the puddle to show the new boy. “This puddle is very muddy. It makes big splashes,” Lucifer’s giggled showing off his dirty boots, “the stickiest mud!”

The boy nodded and looked to his own empty backyard with a frown. “I don’t think my new backyard is very good.”

Lucifer waded out of the puddle and went to the hedge to take a look. He shook his head solemnly. “No. You don’t have a mud puddle. Did you want to play in my backyard?”

He pointed to the middle of the yard, “I have a swing slider majigger climber.” He point to the play structure. “We can play on it and splash in my puddle.”

“Okay!” The boy brightened, but he wasn’t sure how to get over the hedge.

Bending down Lucifer showed him a hole in the hedge he used to go over to the other backyard when his ball rolled through.

The other boy was a bit bigger than him though and got a bit stuck. Lucifer grabbed his hand and pulled. As the boy tumbled through the fence and landed on him, Lucifer got a look at his golden eyes.

“Ohh, pretty. Your eyes are the shiniest ever.”

The boy blinked, he tried to cross his eyes and tried to look at his own eyes before laughing, “oh right. I can’t see my eyes.” He crossed them again and stuck his tongue out.

Lucifer laughed and made a face as well.

Not to be out done, the other boy tugged on his ears and made random noises.

Back and forth they made face until Lucifer got bored and grabbed the boy’s hand, dragging him ran off to play on the slide and splash in puddles.

Eventually someone poked their head out of the boy’s house and looked around frantically, calling.

The other boy looked up from the mud pie he was making with a confused look. He stood and looked around. “Oh, I think my mom is calling me. I should go.”

“Okay,” Lucifer’s waved as the boy ran off. “Bye!”

The other boy paused at the hedge and turned around, “I’ll come play tomorrow!”

Lucifer nodded and kept playing with his house until his mom called him in for a snack.

As she helped get him out of his splash clothing he told her all about the boy next door and playing.

“Oh, yes. I saw the moving van outside.” She smiled and dried his hair with a towel. “What’s the boy’s name?”

Lucifer frowned and thought for a moment. “I dunno.”

-

“Adaaaaaam!” Lucifer whined, as he draped himself dramatically over the hedge, ignoring the scratching twigs of the plant. “Come play with me!”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I have to do my piano lessons. I can play with you later.”

“Uuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhhh! Buuuut yooouuuu haaate piaaaano!” Lucifer was so bored! He was grounded from tv and video games for the rest of the week, but he was still allowed to play outside with Adam. And now Adam had to do his piano lesson, it wasn’t fair!

“Then you shouldn’t have called Miss Sera a dumb head.” Adam smirked. He hadn’t been caught calling her a poop head and was giddy about it.

Lucifer stuck his tongue out, “maybe I’ll just get a new best friend then.”

Adam pushed him off the hedge, then ducked down and grabbed Lucifer foot, yanking off the shoe as Lucifer shrieked.

“There. Now you can’t stop being my best friend cause I have your shoe!”

He stalked off to his house and Lucifer looked down at his bare foot.

“What was that about?”

Adam didn’t talk to him for a whole day. Not until Lucifer gave him his cupcake at lunch and apologized for saying he would get a new best friend.

He accepted the cupcake, gave back Lucifer’s shoe, and stalked up to Miss Sera. Adam tapped her on the arm and called her a poopy head.

That night Adam opened the window of his bedroom across from Lucifer’s.

“I’m grounded now too.”

-

Adam held Lucifer’s year book high above his head and shoved Lucifer back as Lucifer pushed on Adam’s face and kicked.

“Fuck off, asshole!” Lucifer yelled.

“Screw you! Girlfriend thief!” Adam yelled back.

Lucifer kicked Adam’s shin and they tumbled to the ground. He shoved Adam’s head into the dirt. “You weren’t even dating her!”

“Why would she ever go for shrimp like you!?” Adam rolled them and pinned Lucifer hands.

“Why would Lilith like a meat head mountain like you?!”

They rolled and screamed and cussed. Either getting the better as they they play wrestled for too many years not to know each other’s moves.

Suddenly, Adam was yanked off and Lucifer was hauled up as well. They were marched from the track field where the fight began, up to the front office and sat in chairs inside the office doors by the gym teacher.

They shot barbed insults under their breath at each other and without the knowledge of the half deaf elderly secretary at the front desk.

Adam pinched Lucifer and Lucifer kicked Adam.

They were seething.

“You know.” A voice drawled from the doorway. Just out of sight of the old bat. “Lilith is a lesbian and doesn’t like either of you.”

“FUCK OFF, MICHAEL!” They both shouted and drew the attention of everyone in the office as Michael took off laughing.

“Go to hell.” Adam hissed.

“Douchebag.” Lucifer leaned up to hiss back.

“You can keep your shoe.” Adam shoved his face into Lucifer’s. “Cause fuck you!”

“Fuck you more!”

-

“Fuck me!” Adam cried out as Lucifer hit his prostate. “Oh GOD!”

Everyone in the whole dorm building could probably hear Adam but they didn’t care. Adam was tight and warm. He tasted like the wine coolers Lucifer had snuck into their dorm room and still smelled like the gym from his workout earlier.

This was the best day of Lucifer’s fucking life.

Better than when Eve gave him head their senior year of high school.

Better than acing his fucking midterm the week before.

They’d been watching some cheesy movie and having a couple of drinks to celebrate passing said midterm when Adam started to mock the movie.

“Pfft, as if anyone falls in love at first sight.” He leaned on Lucifer’s shoulder, placed a hand to his forehead and spoke dramatically. “Oh Lucifer! I have tripped and fallen. As I look into your eyes I can’t help but also fall in looooove with you.”

Lucifer leaned back and caused Adam actually fall into his lap.

He laughed at the surprised look on Adam’s face.

“Well, I don’t know about my eyes, but yours are still as pretty as the first day we met.”

Adam snorted and shoved a hand into Lucifer’s face and pushed him down. “That was like fifteen years ago. I bet you can’t even remember what my eyes look like.”

“Gold. Duh. Even in the rain they shined.” Lucifer licked Adam hand to try and get him to let go. Instead, Adam rolled closer and onto Lucifer’s chest.

“What did you say?” Adam’s brows knitted together and his mouth was a hard line as he looked into Lucifer’s eyes.

“Uhh. That your eyes were gold and shiny?”

Adam’s face turned pink and his honey eyes shimmered in the light of the lamp on the table between their beds.

“They still are.”

Lucifer gasped as Adam pressed his lips to his. He closed his eyes and moaned into the kiss. Electricity surged and he clung to Adam. His fingers twisting in the shirt to keep Adam close.

They tore into each other’s clothing. Perhaps it was the wine coolers lowering their inhibitions. Perhaps it was the feeling of years of memories building to this moment. What it was they wasted no more time.

For a second, as Adam was on top of him, Lucifer wondered what exactly they were going to do. How far? Who would top if they went that far.

Then Adam rolled them, he kicked off his pants and boxers, spread his legs, and nervously ask Lucifer to be gentle.

Lucifer did his best.

He nearly fell off his twin bed yanking his drawer on the bedside table open to grab the lube. Lucifer didn’t know what he was doing, listening to Adam for stops and goes and more lube you bastard!

Then he was losing his virginity to his best friend since they were five years old and Adam moved in next door.

Adam was loud, he cussed and moaned, he called out Lucifer’s name like a prayer.

He clung to Lucifer shoulders, wrapped his legs around Lucifer’s hips, and thank fuck Adam wasn’t a girl cause Adam didn’t let go until Lucifer came in him. Adam own pleasure spilled between them.

Lucifer hoped this wasn’t a one time thing.

-

They stared at the piece of paper together.

Equally stupid grins plastered on each other their faces. It was just a copy, but still, Lucifer wanted to get it framed.

They held hands the whole trip to their new home.

Lucifer unlocked the door and held it open for Adam, “After you, mister Morningstar.”

Adam picked him up bridal style. “How about together, mister Morningstar?” Lucifer held onto his new, as of twenty minutes ago at the courthouse, husband and let himself be carried over the threshold.

They closed on the house a few weeks before and had spent the last few weeks slowly moving as they also planned the wedding which was to take place in the backyard in another month.

Lucifer and Adam had agreed though they wanted to be married when they actually officially moved into their new house, so when the last of their things was loaded into a moving truck they stopped at city hall and got it done.

The wedding was just a ceremony and celebration anyway. The real deal was signing the paperwork.

Lucifer reached up, wrapped his arms around Adam’s neck, and kissed his husband.

As he did the heavens opened up and the began to pour.

The two of them scrambled back out to the van to start bringing in boxes.

Racing from the truck into the house Lucifer slipped on a puddle on the steps. Adam grabbed him and caught the box of dishes.

On the front steps of the their new home Lucifer started to laugh. Adam was on top of him and his eyes shined as warm as honey and as bright as gold. He reached up and pulled Adam down for kiss.

Lucifer loved the rain.

[mlcheely]

It's Just A Game... PROLOGUE. ☆

DATE : ┃JANUARY 16TH, 1998. LOCATION : ┃ RACCOON CITY, MISSOURI. TIME : ┃8:39 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 No one expected such a storm to hit Arklay County. Earlier that day the weather channel predicted a light shower, but it was obvious that that was an understatement. Thunder roared loudly and lightning flashed across the dark sky. The streets were flooded and many citizens hurried to get inside to avoid the rain. Anyone who stepped outside would quickly become soaked, and the harsh rains mixed with strong winds made driving seemingly impossible. Luckily for Jill Valentine, she called shotgun before her close friend and colleague Chris Redfield had the chance. The two S.T.A.R.S. (Special Tactics And Rescue Service) members had just been dispatched from the police department in response to a possible body sighting on the outskirts of town. Something they were only doing to get off of work earlier since most calls from outside of town were false alarms. 

 Chris was famous for looking for ways to get off early. Honestly, if he had known the weather was going to be that horrendous he would’ve played hooky. Maybe he would’ve used the good ole “allergies" excuse; one of many he had up his sleeve. At least when he got home to his apartment he’d have a cold beer and some whiskey to look forward to.

 But for Jill? She’d never been so eager to get home and sleep…even if she knew she wouldn’t get much of it. In fact, she hadn’t been able to sleep since the year started. It was all because of this strange dream she kept having. 

 The dream usually started with someone crying outside of Jill’s apartment door. When she opened it, there was a young woman standing in the hall. The woman was wearing a hospital gown, and she looked scratched and cut up. “Jill…” The woman said with a cracking voice, “…Will you help me?” Jill didn’t know who this woman was or how she knew her name, but Jill chose to spat out a “yes.” “Please let me in…” The woman’s voice cracked again and Jill instinctively opened the door wider to allow the woman entry, but the woman didn’t move. Not even an inch. She simply stared at Jill through her hair with a look of pure fear.

 Although her dream was unnerving, the nightmare she had that very morning was nothing in comparison.

 Jill’s nightmare started with an ear-splitting scream that was so loud she actually thought it had been real at that moment. It sounded like it came from her front door; just like the many times before. When Jill ran to her apartment door to help the woman, the door wouldn’t budge. No matter how hard Jill pulled or pushed the door wouldn’t open. On the other side of the door, the woman's screams became louder and louder. Jill’s eyes began to water as she helplessly yanked the door handle, and she started sobbing once the woman screamed out Jill’s name. “They’re gonna kill me, Jill! HURRY!!” The voice cried for dear life.

 Jill stepped away from the door and looked around. She quickly grabbed a nearby weight and smashed the door knob, pulling the door open. As the door opened the screams stopped, and all became deathly silent. The hallway was pitch black and there was no sign of the distressed woman anywhere. Jill suddenly had woken up drenched in sweat and tears. Needless to say, the nightmare had gotten to her.

 Chris glanced over to Jill who stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts and discomfort. He took notice of her uneasiness, and he cleared his throat. “You uhh…wanna talk about it?” Chris asked. Jill fell out of her train of thought, but she didn’t break eye contact from the window. “About what?” She inquired, poorly pretending that she had no idea what he meant or was talking about. Fortunately for Chris, Jill wasn’t exactly well-versed in hiding her body language. “Anything that might be on your mind.” He responded. Jill couldn’t help but chuckle at this. “Are you trying to play shrink?”

 Chris snorted, “Geez, forget I asked.”

 “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Jill laughed. “No, it’s just…” She paused, suddenly feeling silly. Was she really going to say this? Even if it was Chris, telling someone a nightmare was bothering her was a little embarrassing.

 Jill pursed her lips as she looked at Chris.

 “It sounds stupid, but…it’s just this dream I keep having. I haven’t been able to sleep for a couple of weeks now. It’s about this woman who knocks on my apartment door and keeps asking me for help, but last night was different.” Jill breathed in and out, “Last night she just kept screaming and screaming. I tried to help her, but when I finally got the door opened the screaming had stopped and the woman was gone. I woke up after that. I don’t think a nightmare has made me cry much less sweat in a long time.” 

 Jill went quiet after that, and Chris furrowed his brows in thought. “Hm…sounds pretty intense. I can see why you seemed to be so bothered today.” He remarked. Chris was telling the truth. He had noticed her during their shift earlier that day. She was doing the same now as she did then — just staring blankly into space with a look of deep thought, concern, and…sadness.

 Jill laughed, “It’s not really the dream itself that bothers me. I guess I feel like — I don’t know — that fate is trying to tell me something? I don’t know it’s dumb — ” 

 Chris cut her off. “It’s not dumb. Believe it or not, I’m a little superstitious myself. So if you feel that way, then I’m sure you’ll figure out what it is eventually. You’re good at that kind of thing.” He smiled, and Jill grinned in return. 

 “Thanks.” She said.

 “No problem.” Chris chuckled.

 Jill was glad she had somebody like Chris to confide in. Hopefully this call would be routine and she could repay him with a dream come true: a whole case of beer. 

⋆

LOCATION : ┃ OUTSKIRTS OF RACCOON CITY, MISSOURI. TIME : ┃8:57 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ☆ ⋆ . ⸺

 A dimly lit street lamp was the only source of light found for miles once Chris and Jill pulled up to the address they had been given. Chris put the car in park while Jill grabbed two flashlights from the glove compartment. She handed one to Chris with a smile. “I’ll go search to the left, you search the right.” Jill said. “10 - 4.” He answered. They exited the vehicle and were soaked in seconds, straining to see through the rain as they split up. As time passed by, Jill thought they might need to resume search once the rain let up, but her thought was cut off when she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. She shined her flashlight over to the area, and she saw a naked woman laying unconscious in the middle of some thorny brush. Thorns stabbed into the woman's skin while some of them had instead scraped and caused bloody scratches and cuts. Her long, wet hair covered her face and breasts, untouched by the thorns. Her body was straight and her arms were sprawled outwards, almost as if she had just held out her arms and fallen backwards. 

 However, it wouldn’t have been so horrifying if it wasn’t for the fact she was still alive…

 Jill quickly noticed the rise and fall of the woman’s chest. She pressed her fingers to the woman’s neck to feel for a pulse and to make sure she wasn’t just seeing things. Jill breathed out a “thank God” and grabbed her radio from her waist band. “Chris — hurry! I found a woman here — she’s alive!”

 “C — h..ris — . f - o.. —und… ——.. A —  — ive…”

 “Jill?!” He called, hitting his radio. “Ugh, stupid thing! Hang on Jill, I’m coming!” He said to himself, turning around and heading in the direction of his colleague.

 Jill placed her radio back onto her waist band when she didn’t get a response, and she shined her light back onto the woman. Jill’s hand reached up to move the woman’s hair from her face, and she felt her stomach drop. ‘No, no — that’s not possible. It couldn’t be possible, but…’ She thought to herself, but she was interrupted once Chris approached.

 As Chris ran up to the two women, he frowned. “Is she — ?!”

 “No, she’s alive!” Jill called out, but Chris knew that wasn’t the only thing on Jill’s mind. “What’s wrong?! Do you recognize her?!” He questioned, but Jill didn’t respond right away. She just stared at the poor woman, and Chris put his hand on her shoulder. He looked at her with sincerity, and she swallowed hard. “It’s the woman from my dream!” Jill exclaimed, “I’d know that face anywhere!” 

 Chris stared at his friend for a few moments, contemplating on what to do next. He would never discredit Jill, but he also thought her lack of sleep might have been causing hallucinations. He looked over to the woman, and he patted his hand on Jill’s shoulder. “Help me get her out, yeah?!”

 Jill didn’t respond for a few moments, instead a thought sparked in her mind. She must have finally snapped and lost her mind — but she had an idea. A really stupid idea.

 Chris looked to Jill. He knew that look. 

 “What are you thinking?!”

 “What do you mean?!”

“Come on Jill, don’t play coy with me!” He sighed, “Look, let’s get her out and we’ll talk about it in the car!”

 As Jill looked to Chris and nodded, the two of them moved to either side of the woman and began to lift her body from the thorns and greenery. Some thorns dislodged themselves from her wounds while a few broke off from the bush, and Chris lifted the woman into his arms. He looked forward to Jill, “Let’s go heat up the car and call for a paramedic!” Chris set off in the direction of the vehicle, and Jill followed closely. 

 She felt unsure about all this. The two of them were supposed to call this in, fill out a report, and go home — but none of those things felt like the right thing to do. Why did they feel…wrong?

 Once they approached the car, Jill opened the back door before lifting the trunk’s hood. She reached in and grabbed a thermal blanket and slammed the hood closed. Chris had placed the woman into the back seat, and Jill covered the woman after he stepped back. He closed the door and headed towards the driver’s side while Jill entered the passenger’s side. They both leaned back into their seats after Chris started the engine, igniting a heat wave of air to wash over all three of them. He reached towards the car’s radio. However, Jill stopped him.

 Chris immediately looked to Jill in concern. “What’s wrong?”

 Jill was quiet again. Would he help her? Would he report her to the department? She knew he must’ve thought she was just tired. She was tired, but this stranger’s face had been so embedded into her brain that she could never forget it. She didn’t know the woman’s name, but she was sure it was the same person from her dream. Even if Chris didn’t believe her, she had faith in him to have faith in her — why wouldn’t he help her?

 The thing is, Jill wasn’t exactly sure what she needed help with. She had an inkling or two that had been lingering in the back of her mind since the discovery. 1. Help this woman get to the hospital. 2. Do not inform the department. She would worry about the rest later.

 As for not informing the department — no one would believe her. How would she sound saying her dream predicted a murder? Or in this case an attempted one…if Jill even knew that. Who’s to say someone wouldn’t come for this woman? Jill had so many questions she felt only the unconscious woman in the back seat could answer, but then what? What if the woman didn’t even know what Jill was talking about and Jill had just been slowly losing her sanity?  She swallowed hard and looked into the back seat. The woman was shaking from the cold but was seemingly fine. Jill lifted the blanket up to the woman’s neck in an attempt to cover her more. After a few seconds, Jill broke the silence.

 “Do you remember earlier when you said I’ll ‘figure out what it is eventually’?”

 Chris slowly raised a brow. “Yeah?”

 “I think I figured it out,” She sighed, “but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

 Chris felt slightly anxious. What did Jill plan on doing exactly? And why was she saying he wouldn’t like it? Her just saying that made him not like it.

 “What does it have to do with me? Am I becoming an accomplice or something?” Chris joked, and Jill’s face straightened. “I’m serious, Chris,” She said, staring intently at his face and he frowned. “What are you asking me to do?”

 “I’m asking you to back me up…” She stated, and Chris quirked a brow. “Listen, all I’m asking you to do is radio in to the department and say it was a dead animal or something. Just something…” She fumbled with her hands, “and after that I am asking you to drive to the hospital and drop us off.” 

 “Us?”

 Jill motioned towards the back seat, and Chris gave it some thought.

 It felt weird for Jill to ask him something like that, so Chris was obviously skeptical. 

 “Can I at least get a reason why before I help you?”

 Jill shot a look of surprise at Chris, “You’re gonna help me?” She felt elated.

 “Yes, but why are you asking me to do this? What’s gotten into you?” Jill looked at Chris with sincerity as he asked this, unable to lie to her cherished friend. “I…” She started, “Have you ever been told the right thing to do, but once you’re in the moment it feels wrong?”

 “I have before, yes. Why do you ask?”

 “That’s how I’ve been feeling since I recognized her. Deep down I feel that if we report this we might be accidentally putting her in danger…I-I know it sounds so stupid but — ” 

 Chris cut Jill off.

 “It doesn’t sound stupid at all.” He paused, “Look Jill, if it really means that much to you…I’ll cover you, but on one condition.” 

 “Name your price.” 

 “Keep me updated. Don’t ask me for help at this moment and then use the excuse you can handle it on your own. Okay?”

 Jill formed a straight smile. “Okay.”

 Chris then grabbed the radio from the dash, informing the department that they had only come across a dead animal and it was nothing to fret about. Jill grinned at Chris as he put the radio back onto its latch and began to pull the car away from the area. “I owe you one.” Jill stated.

 “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Chris waved his hand, “You can repay me with a drink next time we go to Black Jack’s.”

 Once they turned back onto the main road, Jill turned around to the woman behind her and she pursed her lips. ‘I hope I really am doing the right thing.’ She thought to herself before resuming position in her seat.

 Chris stared into the asphalt as he drove, wondering the same as they headed back into Raccoon City.

 Meanwhile, a group of armored men approached the scene the S.T.A.R.S. had left behind. One of them noticed the bloody bushes and called for his captain who walked up and examined it himself. He turned around and called in to report. “There’s nothing here, but something left behind a bunch of blood. Nothing fatal.”

 “Were there any witnesses?” The captain heard from the other line.

 “A police car was seen leaving the scene. Do we need to pursue it?” There was a pause before the captain received an answer.

 “No need. Clear the area and return to base.”

 “Affirmative.” He confirmed, staring in the direction of Raccoon before turning and leaving the area.

[vampirelover890]

The Blue Knight (2/?)

Deep within the recesses of the Ynsdryth Capital lived a weapon. That's all they were considered, at least. A person sat behind those empty eyes, forgotten by the world, labeled only by her misdeeds. A knock came from her cell door, calm and steady. The door opened, and from the light she'd been so exiled from for ages, extended a hand of blue steel.

The prisoner reached back, grasping firmly the harsh metal, allowing herself to be yanked into the underarm of a large knight. Despite the gentleness of the knock, what was outside her prison door seemed hectic. The knight which she'd trusted her life to was barreling through the grown men and women who were to stop her. Finally, they'd turned a corner and ran up a flight of stairs into the blinding sun.

The knight set down it's spoils, as the blue encasing slid away from it's head, as if it were melting. The prisoner finally got a look at her savior or perhaps her captor. In front of her stood tall a pale elf-like humanoid, with long black hair and yellow eyes. It spoke softly.

"You are the Heathen, yes?"

The prisoner nodded.

"I am Mirage, born of abominations, and for war; cursed to forever wear the metal forged within the flame of Sky; and you?"

Mirage got her good look at the Heathen. They were a white and red Dragon-Blood, only coming up to about her own shoulder, and wore not but tattered clothes and a piece of jewelry around their neck. While looking at their neck, Mirage noticed what she perhaps should have when she first set the Heathen down. There was a large, see-through hole in the middle of her throat. Looking up, Mirage also noticed that their mouth was sewn shut.

"Why don't we leave town and take a walk through the nearby woods. I'd love to get to know you."

The Heathen didn't have much say in the matter, and so they followed the large, blue knight through the back alleys of the town she'd been locked in for years on end.

Mirage had shrunken down to about the Heathen's height, as they both walked peacefully amongst the shade of the trees. You'd barely be able to tell that they were the most dangerous weapons of the Great War, and had both recently participated in a jail break. Mirage stopped at a rock, and found a reasonably long stick. She tossed it to the Heathen.

"Alrighty, 'The Heathen,' I figure since you've got a bit of something going on... y'know... here," said Mirage, gesturing to her own throat, "you can write in the dirt instead. Let start with something simple. I'm not gonna call you 'The Heathen' all day; you have a different name?"

The Heathen took the stick thrust upon themself, and wrote out the word "Heather" in the dirt.

"Heath- sorry, you're Heather the Heathen?"

Heather wrote out the words, "Guards call me," before her original message. Tapping at it a couple of times, to make clear to Mirage, she got the message.

"Ok, I'm sorry Heather. Next question, how old are you?"

Heather wrote within the dirt, "Was 20 when locked away"

"That makes you near 70 today. About my age. Heather, I was one of the Queen's weapons, too. That's why I got you out of there. She's gone now. We're gonna be alright."

Heather heard how Mirage talked to her, and quickly wrote, "Not child. They treat me like child too long."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. Heather, why did they lock you away?"

Heather wrote one word. "Gone." She pointed to the hole in their throat.

"Someone took your throat? Did you breathe fire?"

Heather shook her head and began writing. 10 minutes later, Heather's tale was scribbled upon the dirt. It read, "When I was born, I didn't worship the water god. I had no mom or dad to teach me why they did. They called me a heathen. No one taught me to speak either. One day, I tried to apologise for being different. I walked into the water god's church, made my way up to the stand, closed my eyes, and said, 'I'm sorry.' When I opened my eyes, the church and the people were gone. I sat in a crater where it used to be. Then the Queen came. She took me in and raised me. She would take me to the enemies forts and towns, where I would act innocent, and then I'd sing. I was the banshee, the siren, the Heathen. Then one day, a lady came up to me, and she punched me in the face, and with one hand held my mouth open as she sliced out my tounge, then held my mouth shut with one hand as she sewed my lips together forever. Finally, she clawed out my larynx with her bare hands. The Queen had no use for me, and so she locked me up. Here I sit now, 50 yrs later."

"Holy shit, Heather. That's a lot. Y'know what, I came to grab you because I knew we'd be able to bond over something like shared grief about the Queen, but I've decided. We're going to go find your tongue and throat, and we'll take em back and bring sweet music to everyone who tries to stop us."

Heather stood up and nodded, conviction in her eyes, determined to take back what rightfully belonged to her.

"Do you know the name of the woman who took your voice?"

Heather grabbed her stick and scribbled upon the rich forest slil they stood on, the name, "Rene Cathbriggs."

[blueicequeen19]

went on a spree of a nine hour drive of reading just your blogs. what about dark!rafe x dark!jj x bestfriend kook!fem reader. where she’s best friends with rafe, jj hates her with a passion after she rejected him two years ago. she’s a virgin and one night where she’s home after the hurricane rafe is over to keep her company & jj was hired to clean up the mess. when he catches sight of rafe and reader laughing and being lovey towards one another he snaps. he waits until she’s alone and takes her (just teasing. he hasn’t actually taken her virginity yet). rafe comes & watches, calling her all kind of degrading names. both take her, you can decide who takes her actual virginity and who takes her anal virginity. (CNC , fingering, oral (m & f receiving) , cockwarming (in her throat), spanking, and degrading.)

You flatter me ❤️ thank you! I hope I do your dream justice 😏

Lead You On

Trigger Warning: NON-CON, CNC, MMF, swords crossing - read with caution!

It’s been a few days since the latest hurricane and clean up crews are still all over the property. Needing some fresh air and sunshine, I grab my sketch pad and pencils before heading outside to sit next to pool. This area has already been cleaned up and the pool is back to its beautiful clear blue color.

Movement further in the yard draws my attention to someone wearing a neon yellow shirt, indicating he is part of the storm clean up crew. I can’t help the way my body immediately heats in the cool spring air as I check out his body from behind. The muscles in his back bulged with each movement as he dragged tree limbs to a large pile to be hauled off.

It’s not until he turns around and I tear my eyes away from his massive biceps that I realize who I’ve been gawking at. His blonde locks are concealed by his ball cap and I almost feel sick realizing what I’d done.

It’s JJ. JJ Maybank.

The ruthless, impulsive, greedy Pogue who is known for having sticky fingers when it comes to valuables. I make a mental note to not let him inside the house. He eyes me with the same level of disgust I feel for him now that I can see his face. A face that is still handsome but no less belonging to a Pogue. I turn away, crossing my legs and letting my mind tell me what to draw.

I get lost in my sketch after turning on pandora, settling on some 90s pop to try and tune everything else out. I jump when my phone is suddenly snatched up off the table and JJ stands there fuming.

“If I’m going to be here all day cleaning up your fucking yard, I’m not going to do it listening to your shitty taste in music.” He silences my phone before tossing it into the yard.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I jump to my feet but he shakes his head with a snarl, turning away from me as I hear the back door shut. I turn to see Rafe walk over like he owns the place, casting a shitty look JJ’s way as he sits down at the table.

“What was that about?” Rafe asks, turning my sketch pad to examine my work. I march over to the yard and snatch up my phone, looking eyes with JJ as I sit back down next to Rafe.

“I don’t know what his problem is.” I grumble, yanking my sketch book away from Rafe and shutting it. I hated when people looked at my work.

“I think he’s got a thing for you.” Rafe shrugs, scrolling through his phone. My mind flashes back two years ago when I went to my first party and JJ was there. He was sweet and funny whereas I was awkward and shy. He’d been my first kiss and when he’d slipped his hand down my shorts, I’d panicked. I pushed him away and he’d been a dick ever since.

“He’s a Pogue.” I murmured in disgust. Rafe chuckled, meeting my eyes in agreement.

“Pogues know how to fuck. I’ve been around a few Pogue girls before.” Rafe shrugs and I bust out laughing at how vulgar he is.

“Jesus Rafe.” I mumble, glancing over to see JJ glaring at us like we were the ones who didn’t belong.

“Come on, Y/N. Live a little. Do you want to die a virgin?” Rafe smirks, wiggling his brows at me.

“No but I want to lose it to someone who’s not JJ Maybank.” I counter but Rafe only laughs with a shake of his head. Like he had more to say but he kept his mouth shut.

A few hours go by and Rafe leaves, leaving me alone with the angry Pogue. Part of me wanted to demand to know what his problem was. We didn’t even hardly know each other but he was shitty towards me every chance he got. I felt like he was one of those people that wore a mask. He had everyone fooled into thinking he was this great, charming guy when really, he was just as fucked up as everyone else.

The yard was starting to come back together and I could see the sweat dripping down JJ’s face. Part of me wanted to offer him a bottle of water. The other part hoped he’d die of a heat stroke. The nicer part of me wins and I go inside to the fridge. I shut the fridge and bite back a scream, finding JJ standing there angry as ever. He grabs me by the throat, slamming me into the counter and slapping the bottle out of my hands.

“You stupid little cunt.” JJ grabs the front of my dress and rips it down the middle. I push him but he spins me around, bending me over the island. I look up to see Rafe walk in. I thought he’d left?

He takes in my tattered clothes but doesn’t say anything. Just leans against the fridge like I’m not being assaulted.

“Her parents are gone for the day.” Rafe says to JJ, dread creeping in. Rafe played me. I throw my elbow back, connecting with something of JJ’s. He howls in pain and I know I’ve drawn blood but Rafe jumps in, grabbing my arms and holding me in place stretched over the counter.

“Fucking bitch.” I hear JJ groan as I kick and thrash. Rafe quickly removes his belt, JJ helping him secure my hands behind my back. Then JJ removes the rest of my clothes as I fight to calm my racing heart.

“What the fuck is going on?” I spat, tensing when I feel JJ’s fingers slide between my legs. I can’t help but moan when he finds my clit, forcing my legs open wider as he trades his fingers for his tongue.

“I owe JJ money so I agreed to help him teach you a lesson.” Rafe says casually, forcing two of his fingers in my mouth before I can argue. What the fuck did that mean? Teach me a lesson?

“Someone has to knock you off your high horse.” Rafe smirks, forcing his fingers down my throat until I gag then withdrawing just a enough so I don’t vomit. His thumb presses down under my tongue when I have the idea to bite his fingers off and it immobilizes me. Like a damn dog.

“She tastes like heaven.” I hear JJ groan between my thighs, one of his fingers slipping inside me. I whine around Rafe’s hold, my body growing hotter than I’d ever felt before.

“Not stuck up bitch?” Rafe chuckles, earning a glare from me. JJ laughs too, his fingers pumping inside me harder until I feel like I’m going to explode. I can’t stop the choked moans that leave my mouth, the tears running down my face and all the while I’m thinking.. more.. please.. I need more.

I flinch when JJ’s bare body comes down on mine, his mouth finding every inch of my skin and he turns my face from Rafe, capturing my lips in a hard kiss. He bites my lips hard enough to draw blood and I cry out, spotting what’s leftover of his bloody nose.

“Aren’t you going to beg?” JJ asks, reaching between us and I suddenly feel his dick pressing against my opening.

“For what?” I growl, spitting my blood in his face but he only smiles, not even blinking.

“For me to stop.” JJ presses inside me and I bite back a scream as I feel like I’m split in two. The pain is excruciating as he breaks my virgin walls.

He doesn’t waste anytime slamming inside me as Rafe jerks my chin up, pressing his dick to my lips.

“You bite me and it goes in your ass.” Rafe warns before shoving in past my teeth. I gag as he forces his way down my throat, holding me there as JJ takes what he wants. I can’t help it. I feel myself reach my high over and over again. I can’t stop cumming. I can’t control how wet I am. And I can’t get over the feeling of being absolutely used like I’m not but a set of holes. My body loves it. While the rest of me hates myself.

Droll is dripping down my chin and the corners of my mouth as Rafe forces me to warm his cock, the counter top digging into my hips with every hard thrust from JJ as he fucked me like a man possessed. Like he’d die if he didn’t.

Just when I think I can’t take anymore, JJ stills with a loud moan making me involuntarily clench around him because it was the hottest thing I’d ever heard in my life. Both boys pull out at the same time and I sob for the terrible ache of being.. empty.

“Let me go.” I whisper, unable to pull myself off the counter.

“I have an idea.” Rafe says, rubbing my cheeks like he’s trying to take the soreness out. I can’t see JJ but I assume he agrees because they both maneuver me on top of the counter, securing my legs against my chest using smooth rope. Where did that even come from?

I was bent in half like a pretzel, giving them access to everything they wanted. I’m turned on my side and brought to the edge of the counter. I look up to see JJ and he wipes my hair off my face, plucking my sore lip with his thumb as he smiles down at me like a hungry animal. I feel his cock press against me again then he’s slipping inside. I moan loudly, the angle felt weird but it was still amazing. A soreness I’d never experienced before plagued my whole body.

“Don’t tense up.” JJ says and I look up at him in confusion. I suddenly feel something probing my.. other hole and I quickly try to move away as Rafe slaps my ass with a laugh. I hear Rafe spit, lubing me up.

“Come on, it’ll feel good. Eventually.” Rafe presses inside me, knocking the wind from my lungs as they both fill me completely. God, it burns. I thought I was being split open before but now.. even my stomach hurt.

“I-It.. JJ.. please.” I can’t form a single sentence as they start to move, one in and one out, setting a quick rhythm that wrecks me so hard I swear my soul leaves my body. They take turns slapping my ass as they use me like a sex toy, pounding into me without remorse, overwhelming me with pleasure until tears stream down my face.

“Fuck, she feels so good. I’m gonna cum.” Rafe chants, their motions quickening as they chased their highs. My body had turned to mush. I could no longer tell where I ended and they began as I fought to keep my eyes open. Rafe groans as he cums, slipping from my ass a moment later and JJ quickly follows.

“Such a nasty little slut. Letting us fuck all your holes. I’d think you were lying about being a virgin if I hadn’t seen you bleed.” JJ sneers, pulling free of me as Rafe unties me. I groan as the feeling quickly returns to my limbs. I think they’re done but Rafe rolls me onto my back, burying his face in my pussy, lapping up the cum that drips from me.

“No, no, Rafe. Please.” I cry, trying to fist his hair but he quickly secured my wrists in one of his hands. I lift my head off the counter when I see JJ move behind Rafe, thrusting his dick into Rafe’s ass with no warning. Rafe moans loudly into my flesh and I choke on a sob. I’d never seen two guys fuck before - even if my only experience was porn but it was hot. Seeing an alpha male like Rafe let JJ use him in such an animalistic way.

“You like this? Like watching me fuck his ass?” JJ growls, pushing Rafe’s head harder into my pussy. “You tell anybody and I’ll make you regret it.” JJ snarls, his movements growing harder as Rafe grew louder. I dropped back down on the counter as another powerful orgasm hit me like a freight train.

“Jerk your cock. I know you can cum again.” I hear JJ say and Rafe answers with a moan. I try to scoot away but Rafe doesn’t let me. JJ moans loudly, releasing inside of Rafe and quickly pulling away. Rafe straightens, jerking his cock hard and fast until it shoots out all over my stomach. My eyes fall closed just as JJ fists Rafe’s hair and brings him in for a hard kiss as my world turns black.

My eyes slowly open as I try to find my bearings. My body felt like it’d been hit by a bus as I try to wake myself up. Where was I? This wasn’t my bed? Movement to my left has me glancing over, finding Rafe face down in the bed as JJ hovers over him, slamming into his ass over and over again.

“There she is.” JJ grunts and Rafe shoots his hand out, grabbing my breast harshly as he pants. I can’t help the wave of need that washes over me as I watch them. I watch them until they’re both cumming, my body feeling like a live wire as arousal pools between my thighs.

JJ slips off Rafe, allowing Rafe to scoot over to me and kiss me passionately, his lips much softer than JJ’s. My toes curl as his hand slips between my thighs.

“Careful. We might start to think you want this.” Rafe says against my sore lips, toying with my clit. I feel my legs being spread then a mouth closes around my clit, sucking harshly as Rafe swallows my sounds. I turn away from him as I try to catch my breath meanwhile JJ is fucking me with his tongue.

“Rafe.. I thought we were friends.” I murmur, my body ready to explode as JJ tastes me so expertly. Rafe smiles, running his hands up and down my body and pinching my nipples.

“We are friends. Best friends, actually. Why do you think I’m taking such good care of you?” Rafe jerks my head back to kiss me again as JJ slips two fingers inside my abused hole. “You wouldn’t want anyone else to claim your virginity, would you?” I can’t answer as JJ curls his fingers, forcing an orgasm from me so rapidly.

“It’s funny, really. JJ has been pining after you for years. Meanwhile all you did was lead him on, never giving him the time of day.” JJ suddenly flips me over onto my stomach, pressing his cock against my other hole without warning. It slips in and I cry out into the blanket as Rafe tries to soothe me with gentle touches.

“I never led him on.” I bite out, the sound of JJ’s pleasured grunts having me close again already.

“Yea? You didn’t kiss him, making him think you wanted him just to turn around and kick him to the curb? You didn’t use your friendship with me to try and make him jealous? You didn’t give him fuck-me eyes every time you saw him? I’ve seen the way you look at him.” Rafe taunts, forcing his hand between me and the bed to stroke my clit. I bite back a scream as I cum violently, JJ’s skin slapping against mine faster and harder.

I’m suddenly flipped over and JJ shoots white hot cum all over my stomach, his face scrunched in a snarl as he looks at me, jerking his cock hard, getting every last drop. Rafe runs his hand through JJ’s spunk, rubbing it into my skin like lotion all the way up to my neck.

“So that’s what your problem is? Your ego couldn’t handle rejection?” I spat at JJ, slapping him in the chest as he stays straddling my waist.

“I had that first taste of you after you pushed my hand away and I’ve been obsessed since. Even after you treated me like garbage.” JJ growls, leaning down so we’re almost nose to nose. I felt like I was being cornered by two hungry lions. There was no escape.

“And now that I’ve had you, I’m never letting you go.”

Tag list: @lovedetlost @hoebx @strokesofstokes @alizabethcs @carnisidi @famousdestinygarden @i-always-come-back-xoxo @pankowforlife @my-baexht-ls @onmykneesforrafe @slutforsmutsstuff @bethoconnor @hellosexxxysalvatore @mrsjakeseresin @belcalis9503 @maybanks-luver @i-always-come-back-xoxo @adventuresinobx @hopebaker @drewbooooo @itsmytimetoodream @houseofperfecttaste @harlowsgirl @wh0reforstefansalvatore @urmommas Let me know if I missed anyone! 💕

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)

Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.

It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.

... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.

“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.

“He was just being nice.”

“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”

I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.  

“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.

Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”

“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.

“Stop! It’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not.”

Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.

“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.

I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.

Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.

“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”

But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.

“Okay ­– good.”

My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.

“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”

The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.

“You said you didn’t mind!”

In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”

When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.

As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.

“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.  

“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.

The man beside him, however, was quick to question.

“Who’s this?”

As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.

“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.

“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.

I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.

“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”

“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.

There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.

“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.  

Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.

“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”

With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.

“Ooh, is there a party?”

Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.

“No, it’s nothing.”

It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.

“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”

And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.

“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”

My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.

“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”

His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.

“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.

But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.

“Uhh...”

“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”

Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).

“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.

The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.

Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”

It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.

“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“I’m very motivated?”

Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”

I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.

“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.  

Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”

But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.

I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.

With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”  

Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.

Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.

Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.

Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.

“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.

I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.

“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”

I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.

“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”

Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn’t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.

Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”

“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”

The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.

“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.  

Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”

It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.

I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.

Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.

“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”

Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.

“Double promise. Promise squared.”

“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”

I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.

“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”

I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.

“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”

“For what?” he also said through laughter.

“I— don’t know.”

Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.

Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”

So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.

Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.

I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.

 ——————————————————

 There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.

That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.

No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.

“So... Bunny.”

“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.

“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.  

“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”

But that time, it was me who issued the warning.

“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”

“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”

The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.

Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”

“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.

“She’s a virgin.”

Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.

“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.

But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”

It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.

“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”

“Cut it out.”

Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”  

“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”

The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.

“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”

“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”

“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”

I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.

But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.

A fucking tease.

“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.

“Are you done?”

As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.

“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”

I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.

“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.

“Goodnight!”

Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.

But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.

Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.

As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.

Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.

“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”

I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.

It was a set of pictures.

Pictures of her.

“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”

How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.

I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.

They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.

“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”

As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.

I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.

But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.

But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.

Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.

Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.

I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.

That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.

I wanted it. I wanted her.

My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.

If I stole it from her, would it be mine?

Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?

If I ruined her, would she be mine?

I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.

She would be mine.

That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.

She would be mine.

The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.

She was already mine.

 ——————————————————

| Part Four |

[tamakishoochie]

Mina’s Body

18+

MDNI

CW: NSFW, Gore (eventual smut in part 2)

Word Count: 1112

Based off of Jennifer’s Body, this is a Succubus!Mina x Reader fic

“Hey, braceface!”

Mina called out as she approached you with her posse right behind her. Looking up from the book you were reading, you push your glasses back up on your nose with a small, shy smile.

You roll your eyes at the nickname, though.

“The braces are coming off next week, so you won’t get to call me that anymore, dweeb.” You responded as she giggled at your comeback.

“What’s up?” You set your book aside to give Mina your undivided attention.

If you were to shout to the world telling everyone that Mina Ashido was your best friend, no one would believe you. The two of you were very close ever since you were little girls, but she grew up to be the college campus favorite.

Everyone loved her.

And You?

Well, you were just a common outsider, a geek as some would put it but Mina NEVER treated you differently and that's probably why you developed a crush some time ago.

You just never told her because you didn’t want to ruin the friendship.

“Me and the gang are gonna kick it at a bar later, you wanna tag along?” Mina asked while looking down at you as collective groans could be heard from behind her.

She was quick to give her little group an icy death glare before flipping her pink braids out of the way and shoving her hands into the pockets of her tracksuit jacket, eagerly waiting for your response.

“Uh–yeah, sure. I'm free tonight.” You trailed off in your reply, mesmerized by Mina’s beauty. Any other day she would go all out with makeup, but today she went with a simple, natural look.

Lips lined and glossed over, mink lashes, a waist chain that spelled out her name, and an all-pink matching tracksuit that mostly likely read ‘Juicy’ on the back of her pants.

She was perfect and you knew you needed to be chastized for idolizing her so much.

Mina’s eyes lit up from your answer and a smile spread across her brown face, revealing the tooth gems decorated on her canines.

She holds her hand out to you and helps you to your feet before yanking you closer to her with a hand placed on your lower back. You feel your brown cheeks heating up.

“See you there~..”

A little while later, you find yourself in your dorm room contemplating on which outfit you should wear tonight. Nothing too bland and nothing that would make you stand out more than Mina.

You didn’t enjoy a lot of attention on you anyway.

After a few minutes of trying to figure out what to put on, you finally end up wearing a simple black jacket with a white tee underneath and a pair of leggings that make your butt look good.

Since Mina was all about tits, she’d most likely wear something that would reveal a lot of cleavage in hopes to get free drinks from the bartender.

Grabbing your sling purse and keys, you make your way through the door, locking it behind you.

Mina had previously sent the location of the bar to your phone and DAMN was it a long walk! If you knew it’d take this long you would’ve called an Uber.

Not only that, but the stupid GPS on your phone was really shitty.

“I should’ve said no..” you sucked your teeth, stopping in front of an alleyway to call Mina. To your surprise, it went straight to voicemail which was strange because that girl was always on her phone.

“Oh come on, Mina..” You dial her number three more times before finally giving up. Kirishima was a friend of both you and Mina, so you decide to call him instead.

After a few rings, he finally picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Kiri! Um, this is y/n. Can you tell Mina I got lost on my way to the bar. I’m at-”

He interrupts you,

“Mina left like an hour ago, y/n.”

Confused, you asked him why but he couldn’t give you a straight answer.

“I don’t know. She had a few drinks with us before leaving with some guy. Sorry.”

Sighing, you tell him that it was alright and that you’d see him in class tomorrow before hanging up.

Who the hell invites someone to hang out then bails before the guest even gets there?

Mumbling underneath your breath, you pull your hood up on your head as the air gets cooler. It was already dark and you didn’t want to stay out here any longer.

You dial Mina’s number again, hoping she’d pick up this time, but stop once you hear wet and weird squelching noises coming from behind you. You turn around to face the dark alleyway and listen closely to make sure it wasn’t your imagination.

The unfamiliar slurping sounds made a shiver run up and down your spine. Things were starting to get eerie and you didn’t like it.

You didn’t know why, but your legs made you move closer to the sound.

You squint your eyes to try and see better since there wasn’t much of a light source anywhere besides the dim light poles that were further down the street.

With a trembling hand, you switch on the flashlight from your phone and shine the light on whatever it was that was making those god

awful noises.

You wish you hadn’t because what you saw horrified ou.

It was Mina, but her back was facing you and it looked like she was eating something, which explained the noise. You were about to say something until you felt your stomach drop from what you assumed she was snacking on.

There, on the ground in front of her, was a dead man with half of his face eaten. One of his eyeballs was missing and the other was hanging out of its socket.

His lifeless body shook and jolted from how violently Mina ripped pieces of his flesh from his corpse that was surrounded by a pool of his own blood.

“M….M-M-Mina…? W-what...?”

Your body froze after she slowly turned to you. It was Mina alright, but her mouth…

The sides of her mouth were ripped open and she had long, sharp teeth that were covered in blood. The entire front part of her outfit was drenched in blood and the whites of her eyes were pitch black.

She looked demonic

“Y/n..?”

You shriek in terror at the sight, dropping your phone and turning on your heel before booking it right back to your dorm room. You didn’t know WHAT you saw, but you weren’t gonna stay and ask questions.

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hey!! I love your writing. Can you do a Yandere! Ranboo, Tommy , and tubbo. where they are all in love with the reader and they kidnapped her to ‘keep her safe’ and the reader doesn’t know at first, then she slow realized they are obsessed with her. she like them back but she also want to live her life, so she tries to make agreement? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.

The Ranboo gif is just beautiful and I love it. Lemme see what I can do for ya! I wrote a bullet point Platonic fic if that's fine? I'm still worried about writing the minors in romantic relationships, even if it's the characters.

Sorry, it took so long... My burnout got really bad and I refused to even write basic stuff. But I'm back now! Well. Mostly.

Safe Behind Glass (Yandere!Plat!C!Bench Trio x GN!Reader)

You were a little groggier than normal when you awoke, but it was nothing to alarm you immediately.

Just simply brushing it off as you weren't feeling the best that day, you rolled over to fall back to sleep, but quickly noticed something wrong.

It didn't feel... Right?

The blankets... The mattress... The pillow... They weren't yours...

You peeled your eyes open and your expression went blank with fear.

The room was beautiful mind you.

But it wasn't yours either.

You were laying on a fluffy (f/c) canopy bed, surrounded by quartz walls that were dimly lit soul lanterns that prevented you from being completely swallowed by darkness.

Slowly dragging yourself off the bed, you heard a metal 'clunk' that hit the cold quartz flooring below you.

Turning your head to face downwards, you saw that a decently thick metal chain was cuffed to your ankle.

Somehow, your panic became worse as you immediately grabbed onto it and started to yank on the solid metal, but it refused to budge.

You had no idea how many minutes or hours you spent in that room. Reaching at the iron door desperately, yanking at the chain around your ankle that kept you from reaching the exit, searching the blue lanterns for anything...

But then, the white metallic door slowly swung open, revealing Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy.

You weren't that close to them, save for a couple interactions here and there, but hey, they came to save you! That didn't matter in the slightest!

You almost cried upon seeing them and moved to walk over, but the chain stopped you from reaching them, and you noticed that they weren't moving to help you.

"You're awake!" Tubbo chirped softly, his tan goat ears wiggling with joy, "I'm glad the potion didn't stick for too long... You could've wound up starving if you stayed asleep."

Horror slowly began to set into your heart as Ranboo nodded and walked over to the dark oak table in the corner of the room and set down a basket of food.

"Ran...Boo...?" You whispered, watching as the monochrome male turned and curiously tilted his head in your direction, "Why... Am I here?"

Instead, Tommy stepped in front of you with a bright cheesy smile, the same one that resembled when he would find a new disc or start a new adventure, "For your safety, (N/n)!"

"Safety?" You choked out softly, Ranboo quickly guiding you to sit in the oak chair, "But... I'm one of the richest people on the server... I have god armour... Nothing could kill m-"

"Techno and Dream can." Tubbo interrupted sharply, halting you mid-sentence.

Right... That masked man... Or whatever he was... He was extremely dangerous, as well as Techno. They could likely pierce your netherite chest plate without even flinching at the number of thorns you had enchanted.

"We don't want anyone to bring you any harm... There's no problem with that, right, (Y/n)?" Ranboo smiled, flashing his sharpened teeth unthreateningly.

No... You wanted to say, but you wanted freedom! You wanted to expand your house to the size of a mansion! You wanted to bicker with Quackity about the stupidest of things! You wanted to get building advice from Phil!

Not be locked away because your safety was a tiny bit compromised!

"Tommy... Tubbo... Ranboo... Please, I'm not going to just stay locked away because I-"

"You'll see things our way soon... Eat up, get your rest." Tubbo smiled and gave you a hug, ignoring how you froze suddenly, before turning and skipping out of the room with the taller two following behind him.

Despite... How screwed up the three were with their methods of making you be their friend, it was working...

They were actually incredibly friendly and funny. It made life in capture bearable! Even though you were incredibly snappy and cruel to them in the beginning, they never held it against you.

Although... Despite their kindness and your quickly blooming friendship, you still had a craving to go outside. Even if what the three told you about everyone forgetting you existed was true.

"You look sad, (N/n)..." Tubbo murmured softly, watching you stare off into the blank quartz wall, "Are you okay?"

Tommy straightened up from his handmade scribble of a map, turning his head towards you in confusion. Ranboo stopped writing mid-word likely and looked in your direction as well.

They never liked it when you were upset.

You pursed your lips silently for a moment, clearly unsettling the males around you, "I just... Haven't been feeling too great... Both mentally and physically I mean... I need sunlight..."

"Yeah... I was reading about that earlier..." Ranboo hummed softly, adjusting his crown as he looked up at the ceiling, "But the issue is..."

"My safety... Yes, I know. What if, I wear my full netherite armour and keep a totem AND a Rapple on me? And also not leave your sides?" You bargained nervously.

That hadn't worked before. But then again, You weren't as close to them before...

The silence that fell upon the room was unsettling and caused your heart to race quickly. If they didn't like what you said, you would be alone for a few straight days... You didn't like it...

"Okay."

What.

That worked?

You just had to ask?!

You watched as Tubbo stood up and pulled the small ender chest from his pocket and set it on the ground, causing it to grow to normal size.

Standing aside, he made a gesture for you to open it and get your stuff.

Hesitantly, You walked over and kneeled down in front of the ender chest. Looking to Tubbo and the others for confirmation, you slowly opened it once they nodded.

Carefully, you began pulling out your armour but paused seeing the lack of golden apples and totems.

Right... Before you had gotten kidnapped by the group, you had used a totem when you fell into the L'Manhole where L'Manberg once was.

That what caused them to kidnap you...

"I-I used... My totem... And Fundy stole my Rapple..." You murmured hesitantly, feeling ready to cry.

Your only chance to escape and you couldn't grab it...

"Hey! Hey! Don't cry! Here!" Ranboo eagerly held the two golden items out towards you at the first sight of tears gathering under your eyes.

"What...?"

"(Y/n)! We want you to be happy! If being outside, even with god armour, rapples and totems, makes you happy, then damn well we're bringing you outside!" Tommy grinned.

After a few tears and lots of hugs, Tubbo helped you hop into your armour while Ranboo unlocked the chain cuff from around your ankle. Tommy had left, leaving the door open for once, going to scout the area for any dangerous mobs.

"Ready?" Ranboo smiled, linking one of his arms with yours, the one that you held the totem in to be more specific. Tubbo happily linked his arm with the other one.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat as they began to walk you out the door, Ranboo had to duck down a lot, before leading you to the quartz stairway.

Once up the stairs, Tubbo pressed in a code to the iron door and it slid open quickly, causing you to flinch and pinch your eyes shut at the bright painful light of the sun.

It took about twenty minutes of trying to adjust to the sunlight with the two males encouraging you before you were able to look around.

It was everything you had missed...

The sunlight...

The trees...

God, it was perfect...

Tommy eventually came out of the tree line and sat down beside you as you took it all in...

Months, you were down there. And sure, they gave you plenty of decorations to prevent you from experiencing sensory deprivation, nothing could ever compare to the beauty of the outside world.

A voice cut through the air -calling for someone or something named Fran?- and you almost didn't recognize it. But then the owner came out of the trees, almost a similar direction that Tommy came from earlier.

Sam? He looked so... Different now...

The creeper hybrid slowly lowered his gas mask to show his mouth dropped in shock, "(Y/n)...? You're alive...?"

Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo were freaking out, trying to bring you back into the bunker, as they called it, but you weren't budging. You hadn't seen another being in ages... And while you did platonically love the three boys, you enjoyed hearing a new voice.

"You... Remember me? But... Tubbo you said-" You frowned at the goat hybrid as they stopped suddenly, realizing that you weren't moving.

"You three... Kept them locked away... For almost an entire year?" Sam's voice was getting a little bit scary now, but it wasn't directed at you, instead, at your best friends...

"Sam! It was to protect them! Please!" Ranboo tried, but he wasn't making it better.

"You made Quackity believe they ran away... Made Philza wake up every morning and walk through the SMP for any signs of them... Gave Puffy false information on where you have last seen them... lied to everyone... Only to be the reason that they were gone." Sam growled out, gripping his trident, "Then you proceeded to make them think we all forgot about them..."

"S-Sam... You've got this all wrong big man..." Tubbo tried next...

The warden wasn't listening as he pointed his trident at them, his communicator in his other hand next to his mouth, then he started speaking, causing his voice to come out of Ranboo's, Tubbo's and Tommy's pockets. He was speaking on the public channel.

"Tommy Innit, Tubbo Underscore, Ranboo Beloved... You are being placed in the prison, Pandora's Vault, for keeping (Y/n) (L/n) imprisoned in a bunker and lying about their whereabouts."

It felt like someone splashed you with cold water...

[mandos-sluts]

The Visit

This is Part One of a three-part series

The Visit Part Two

The Visit Part Three

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, dubious consent, fingering, dirty talk, mentions of sex work

Summary: You are Luke Skywalker’s Padawan, training directly under him at his Jedi Academy. Din Djarin is staying at the compound for a few days to visit Grogu.

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!! Also we love feedback <3

“What does he look like?”

“He’s a Mandalorian. Big silver shiny armor. Can’t miss him.”

*************************************

Boy was he right. You spot Din as soon as you step into the cantina. He’s standing at the bar, leaning over it slightly. His visor catches your eye from across the room, and he stares at you for a while, looking you up and down, before turning his head back to the bar. He’s never seen someone so beautiful in this parsec before.

Your Master, Luke Skywalker, told you to meet Din at the cantina and escort him to the Jedi Academy. Luke had similarly informed Din that he was sending his Padawan to rendezvous.

You know all about Din Djarin. You know his whole deal with Grogu and the Darksaber, and his run-ins with the Empire and the Guild. The story of his miraculous rescue of Grogu made its way around the school after Luke brought the child back to the Academy.

The cantina that you’re at is located in the town that lies right outside the Jedi Academy compound. It’s a place that many students go to blow off steam and hang out.

You find yourself surprisingly nervous as you walk up to the tall intimating Mandalorian. “Excuse me.” You say.

“Not interested.” He says shortly without even looking at you.

”What?” You asked, confused.

“I said I’m not interested.”

“Not interested in what?”

”Your services.”

”My services?” You don’t understand. Is he wanting to travel to the grounds by himself? That’s not an option....he wouldn’t be permitted on the estate without an escort. Didn’t Luke tell him of this arrangement?

Din exhales, clearly annoyed, and finally turns to look at you. “Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not looking for a whore.”

You stand there, completely dumbfounded, your mouth slightly open from shock. A whore? What the fuck?!!

In his defense, you are wearing a rather skimpy-looking outfit. You have on what is essentially a tennis skirt and a bandeau; it’s the hot season on the planet. Even so, this guy is an asshole.

You take a breath and put a fake smile on your face. “My apologies….Din Djarin.” You say in a suggestive manner. Turning around to leave, Din whips around and grabs your upper arm tightly, yanking you closer to him.

“How do you know that name?” Din loudly whispers in a demanding, low voice.

You’re not stupid, you know that his name is known only by a few. “My industry has very skilled people.” You respond, hoping he will get the hint that you are in fact not a sex worker, but actually the person he’s supposed be meeting.

”Are you telling me your brothel somehow got a hold of my name?” Din is pretty pissed. Is this what he gets from doing dealings with Jedi? His name gets leaked to brothels?

You let out a sigh as your eyes roll. You snatch your arm out of his grasp and move swiftly out the door into the street. What a jerk. This guy can find his own way to the compound.

Din tries to follow you, needing to know how a random whore got his name, but the streets are pretty crowded.

”Oh, Mr. Djarin!” Din hears someone say. He looks over his shoulder and sees Luke Skywalker approaching him.

“H-hi, Master Skywalker.” Din says, deciding to give up on his pursuit of you, after all, that’s not the reason he’s here.

“I’m surprised to see you here, did my Padawan not pick you up?” Luke asks.

“No. He never showed.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that. Let me take you to the Jedi Temple.”

************************************* You hear your Master’s voice and footsteps nearing the empty lounge you’re sitting in. It’s a pretty big, dark lit room. There’s a conference table on one end, and an arrangement of couches and chairs spread across the place. It’s always empty, and you often use the area to meditate or exercise or just hang out. You pretend to look busy, eager for what’s about to occur.

“It is strange that my Padawan did not show up to greet you.” You hear Luke say behind the wall. He pokes his head around the door. “Ah, here she is.” He says walking into the lounge.

She? Din walks a few feet behind Luke. He turns the corner and walks through the door, freezing in his footsteps as soon as he lays eyes on you. There you are, the woman who approached him at the cantina….Luke’s Padawan.

You stare into his visor with a smug half smile on your face and slowly rise from your seat. You’re reveling in how taken aback he clearly is.

“Y/n, this is Din Djarin. I thought we discussed that you’d meet him at the cantina and escort him to the Academy? He says you didn’t show.” Luke says innocently as he stands between you and Din.

“Oh. I did go to the cantina. I guess I missed you.” You say slowly with your eyes locked on his helmet. “My apologies, Din Djarin.”

Din clears his throat. “Um n-no worries at all.” He chokes out. Shit! Din can’t believe he called you a whore. How did he not see the laser sword on your hip?

“Alright, well I’m gonna get to my meeting. Y/n, show Din around, alright?” Luke says.

“Of course Master.” You say with a slight bow of your head. You plant your gaze back on Din’s helmet as it rotates to watch Luke exit.

He slowly turns his look back to you, staring at him confidently with your hands on your hips.

“I’m sorry.” He says flatly through his modulator.

“For being such an asshole?” You say tilting your head.

“Yes. And assuming you were a prostitute.”

“There’s nothing wrong with sex workers. I’m not offended that you mistook me for one.” You say. But….why does it kind of turn you on that he thought you were a whore? Ugh and why does it turn you on that he is such a jerk??

There’s an awkward pause as you both stand there examining each other.

“So, you’re also a…Pawa-don?” Din asks, trying to fill the quiet. He has never been uncomfortable with silence before, in fact, he more often than not preferred it. But right now for some reason he feels different.

“Padawan.” You correct him. “And yes.”

“So are you doing the same training as the kid?” He further probes.

“Kind of. Grogu is more in the elementary stages of training. His focus is mainly on developing and fine-tuning his sensation with the Force. Most of my training nowadays centers around my lightsaber mastery and combat.” You inform him.

“Hm. Wonder when you’ll be good enough to battle me.” Din says casually as he takes a breath.

“What?” You ask.

“I said I wonder when you’ll be good enough in combat to put up a fight against me.”

Is he serious? Is he trying to provoke you? Even after the predicament he just found himself in with you? “Ha….um….I was good enough to fight you years ago.” You declare

Din looks at you for a moment. “I’m a Mandalorian.” He says simply.

“.....”

“The Mandalorian who wields the Darksaber. So you’re either overestimating your own ability or underestimating mine.”

You take a deep breath and take a step closer to him. “I know most people think that Mandalorians are the greatest warriors in the galaxy, but that’s because they don’t know of the Jedi Order. My connection with the force gives me strength that you will never know, that you will never be able to comprehend.”

Din takes a step closer to you. “That may be, but I have decades of combat experience that is simply unmatched by you, not to mention the most imperishable armour in the galaxy.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you would like to duel.” You say as you remove your saber from its holster and activate its blade. It’s a light lavender color, thin and sleek.

“That’s cute.” Din says. “Just a reminder, little girl. You were given that light saber. I won mine in battle.” He proclaims as he detaches his saber from his belt. *see gif*

“I made it. But fair point. Now enough talk, Mandalorian, are you ready to duel or what?” You say as you get into a battle stance.

Din holds his hand out. “If, by some miracle, you do happen to overpower me, don’t touch the saber. Bo-Katan is already mad enough that I have it, I can’t imagine what she’d do if a non-Mandalorian gets their hands on it again.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m well aware of the bizarre way that the ruler of Mandalore is chosen.”

“Alright then, princess, I won’t hold back.”

You feel heat rush through your core at those words. Princess. He won’t hold back. Uggh... focus! This guy has been demeaning you since the moment you met him, show him how powerful you are!

*************************************

You and Din battle for a good seven minutes, the two of you are pretty evenly matched, neither one of you gains the upper hand for very long. Just as you’re feeling your strength falter, you’re able to knock his saber out of his hands, and you push him onto the ground. Din tries to get up and reach for his saber but you plant yourself on top of him, straddling him. He looks up at you in defeat.

He takes a deep breath as you stare down at him. That’s when you notice the tent in his pants. You’re sitting on his legs so that his bulge is right above your crotch.

Adrenaline is pumping through your veins from your victory and a smile stretches across your face. “I have another quality that puts me at an advantage that I forgot to mention: your attraction to me and your primal desire to fuck me.” You say as you slowly place your hand on top of his clothed erection. You lean down and bring your face close to his helmet. “I bet your face is just bright red underneath this helmet of yours. Not only did you lose the battle, but your urges got the best of you.” You say in a condescending tone.

Din stares up at you, his chest moving up and down as he breathes.

“That’s where you and I differ.” You say. “A real warrior has self-control and self-restraint.”

Din moves his hands to your thighs and runs them up to your hips. “Who said I was trying to restrain myself?” He says in a raspy voice.

You’re a little caught off guard. You were teasing him, and this was not the reaction you were expecting. You thought he’d be embarrassed, you thought he’d want to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

“Face it.” You say after a pause. “You can’t repress your arousal, and your lack of self-control is a disadvantage to you.”

Din’s hands are still on your hips, and he pulls you up his body ever so slightly. “So since you have such great self-control, your panties wouldn’t happen to be wet right now, would they?” He inquires in a low, sultry voice.

You’re taken aback at his shameless words. “O-of course not.” You stutter as your confidence recedes.

“Let me see.” He demands flatly.

“What?” Did you hear him right? Your heart beat is pounding, you can’t tell if he’s joking around with you or not like you were doing with him.

“I said let me see.” Din says moving his gloved hands to the bottom of your skirt. “C’mon, pull this short little skirt up just a tad more and show me that your panties are dry.”

“N-no I–”

“Fine.” Din cuts you off. “I’ll do it myself.” He says as he removes one of his gloves. He then moves his bare hand under your skirt up to your pussy, easily pushing the thin panties you're wearing aside and planting two fingers inside your sopping wet folds.

You jerk at the contact of his soft skin on your sensitive pussy. “Din!” You exclaim. You grab his hand, but don’t move it.

Din chuckles. “Looks like you don’t have as much self-discipline as you claim.” He brings his other hand and cups your cheek. “Awwww, your face is just bright red right now.” Din mocks.

“W-whatever, you still lost.” You say out as you’re overcome with humiliation.

“Mmmmm. Congratulations.” Din says lazily as he removes his hand from your cunt and grabs your hips once again. “So, y/n. You showed me how Jedi fight. Let me show you how Mandalorians fuck.” He says as he pulls your hips and grinds you against his bulge.

Your panties are still pulled aside and the friction of his clothed erection against your clit makes you whimper.

“You– you wanna fuck me?” You ask hesitantly.

“Ha. Of course I wanna fuck you. Look at you.” He says as he lifts you off of him to stand up. Standing tall, he towers over you and brings his non-gloved hand to your chin, pulling it up gently to meet his gaze.

The unexpected and prompt shift in the power dynamic has you all turned around. Just moments ago, your confidence was through the roof. You were giddy claiming your victory against him, making fun of him for getting a boner during a duel. But the tone between the two of you has completely changed. He has you weak and timid, he’s looking down at your wide doe eyes as if you’re his prey.

“Come on, little Padawan. Practicing self-control is great, but let me show you what it’s like to lose all control over yourself.” Mando says as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. “Cuz I would just love to tie you up and have my way with you.” He mutters. Dins hands slide down to your butt as he gropes your flesh, pulling you flat against him. “Let down your guard for just a moment and let me show you how rewarding it can be.” Din slips his bare hand back under your skirt to find your cunt even wetter than before. You let out a whimper and bat your eyes at him.

He starts slowly circling your clit, and moves his other hand up to caress your cheek softly. “Come on.” He whispers in your ear. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

High-pitched breaths are escaping your lips as he gently runs his thumb up and down your cheek bone.

“Can– can you not–” you breathe, sliding your hands up his chest.

“What. What is it?”

You pause for a moment. “Can you not be so gentle with me?” You say with slight embarrassment.

Din scoffs, “Oh baby girl, you’re gonna regret saying that.” He says as he grabs a fist full of your hair and roughly pulls your head back, exposing your delicate neck to him.

This harsh action sends shocks to your pussy. “Didn’t you say something about tying me up?” You purr with a slight smile, looking up into his visor.

“So I was right about you being a filthy fuckin whore.” Din spits as he shoves a finger inside of you, his thumb rubbing against your clit.

“Y-yeah, but only for you.” You whine as your eyes fall closed and high-pitched moans begin escaping your lips.

“Ohh that’s right baby.” Din praises. He’s so turned on by the way you’re speaking and responding to his touch, and he loves the impact he has on you. How you so quickly went from a confident fighter when he lost to you, to a shy little girl when he started teasing you, to a dirty slut once he got his hands in your panties.

He starts pumping his finger faster and you can hear the lewd noises your obscenely wet pussy is making. Your mouth opens even more with your moans becoming more pronounced and your back arches. You’re standing pressed flat up against him, he’s basically holding you up on your toes with one arm as his other hand drives into your cunt.

You can feel your orgasm just beginning to climb when you suddenly hear a beep on your watch’s intercom. It jolts you back to reality.

“Y/n, are you at the lounge? I’m heading back there now.” Your Master says through the intercom.

“Shit.” You say as you push Din’s chest, pulling yourself off of him. “I should have shown you to your accommodation by now.” You say as you frantically start looking around your feet for your saber. By the time you grab it and look up for Din, he has already made his way out the back exit.

You attach your saber to your hip as you try to steady your breathing, disoriented from the abrupt conclusion of whatever it was you were doing with Din. You hear Luke’s footsteps approaching as you quickly try to put your panties back in place, growling at how soaked they are. You’re praying that your Master doesn’t notice the wetness that has been smudged on your inner thighs.

*************************************

You cannot believe what you did with Din. No one has ever done anything like that to you before. You get hit on all the time— you’re gorgeous— but you are almost never interested enough to give them the time of day. But Din? He had his fingers in your pussy after knowing you for ten minutes. How did he do that!?

It’s the early evening. You lie in your bed visualizing the events over and over again, heat pooling in your core as you replay the dirty things he said to you.

While it fuels your arousal, you also feel uneasy about the interaction. He left so quickly, and he left without saying a word to you, almost like nothing had happened. You hope that Din doesn’t think less of you, that he doesn’t think you’re some hussy who is easily persuaded into letting guys she just met finger fuck her.

You are pulled away from your anxious thoughts when you hear your intercom going off. It’s your friends talking about what they’re doing tonight. You don’t really care to pay attention, but you sit straight up in your bed when you hear something about that “Mandalorian who’s visiting the Academy,” and how he’s “at the cantina in town.”

You jump out of bed and without even thinking, you grab a sweater and head toward the parlor.

Your heart is beating on the chilly walk there. You hope he’s surprised to see you, you hope he’s excited to see you. You’re gonna act casual, yeah, like you didn’t even know he was there. No big deal! You’re just going to the cantina to hang with your friends. And then you see eachother, and bing bang boom, you guys are back in your room fucking while he calls you his little slut. Yes. This is gonna go great.

It’s a Friday night and the cantina is bustling. People are dancing, drinking, and gambling. It’s so loud that you can barely hear yourself think. As you make your way through the rowdy crowd, you spot Din’s helmet over the hordes of people. He is sitting in a somewhat secluded booth in the corner of the restaurant.

You proceed a few steps forward, lightly pushing people to get through the crowd, and then, your heart drops. He’s not sitting alone. There’s a girl, a woman, a sex worker, wrapped in his arm.

You stand there for a moment as everything goes quiet, you stare at Din and the beautiful woman in a tight short dress sitting beside him. She’s talking to him, saying things into the side of his helmet as he sits there looking forward with his arm casually draped around her, man spreading and all.

Din’s head turns and that’s when he notices you, standing there among the crowd of people in that same short high waisted skirt and a cropped sweater of the same color.

You feel something fall deep in your chest as you realize that he sees you. You blink a few times as the rest of your senses come back, humiliation and embarrassment overcoming you as you quickly turn around and stumble out of the bar.

You make your way into the dark street and take a few deep breaths before running back to the Academy. You're fighting off tears as you feel the cold air pinching every bit of your exposed skin.

You can’t believe that you let yourself become smitten by someone who was such an asshole. He mistook you for a whore, he insulted your combat skills, he pressed you to let him fuck you! You should have expected this.

A tear rolls down your cheek. Why did you think he liked you? He didn’t. He didn’t like you. And he didn’t want to fuck you, he just wanted to fuck someone, and you were the closest one to him. You let him use you. He must do this kind of shit all the time with women, you were nothing special.

You get back to your room and bury yourself under your covers, wanting to escape so badly from this reality.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Visit Part Two

The Visit Part Three

*************************************

Masterlist

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Taglist:

@pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75 @tacticalsparkles @kenoobiwan @shark-s @theamuz @blackrose8425 @beskarboobs @beskarboobs @smutslutz @princess-djarinn @spideysimpossiblegirl @riot-rotten

[crysalita]

Brahms the Boy

Brahms Heelshire x reader

Word Count: 3097

Warnings: Violence, Death, Cole

When I was asked to accompany Greta with her new babysitting job, the last thing I expected was to find a doll that we would be looking after.

I didn’t dare question why we had to look after a porcelain doll because I felt it would be rude to ask, and besides, this just makes everything easier for us.

The house was lovely, slightly creepy, but lovely none of the less. It was a big house for an elderly couple and sometimes I felt so alone, minus the constant feeling of someone watching me.

Every now and then I would here creaks in the walls, but I would brush them off being the fact that the house was quite old.

We were given a set of rules that we were to follow, most of them were okay. I didn’t know how I felt about rule number 4 and rule number 10, never cover Brahms’ face and kiss goodnight.

After finding out that Brahms was capable of moving on his own, I was beginning to be more cautious on the things I did, always keeping an eye out.

*

“Tell Greta to think about us getting back together.” Cole pleads. I was pulled aside so Cole could convince me to talk to Greta about their, long gone, relationship. “I love her, I really do.”

“She doesn’t want to be with you. She’s moved on.” I reply calmly. I noticed that the more I denied his pleas, the more he was getting angry.

I wince as he grabs a hold of my arm and pulls me close. “You better hope that she wants to get back with me, because if not, she’ll be saying good-bye to you too.” He threatens.

He lets go of my arm and allows me to walk away.

Greta was standing outside of the room, holding onto Brahms. “He wants to talk with you.” I mumbled. I covered my arm behind my back before reaching for Brahms.

I hold onto Brahms tightly as I wait for Greta and Cole to finish their conversation. “Why can’t he just leave her alone.” I whisper to Brahms. “I just wish he would leave.”

Cole was never a personal favourite, for obvious reasons, but I never had the heart to tell Greta all the horrible things he would say to me. She always seemed so in love, and I didn’t want to ruin that for her.

I walk up the stairs and into Brahms room where I lay him down on his bed. I do the usual routine where I tuck Brahms into his bed and left with a goodnight kiss before I walked back to my own room and went to bed.

*

I was awoken when I heard calls from downstairs, I instantly shot out of bed and ran down. “Greta!” Greta was ahead of me as she entered the room that Cole was staying in. “Get in here.” Cole grabs Greta by the arm and pulls her into the room, me following behind her. “What is this?” We were met with the words ‘get out’ written in, what I could only assume, was blood. “Was this you?”

“I didn’t do that.” My eyes land on Brahms sitting in a chair, directly underneath the message.

“Brahms.” I mutter. I rush over to Brahms where I pick him up and keep him close to me, making sure Cole can’t get to him.

“The doll wrote this? How do we know it wasn’t your psycho bitch friend?” Cole points a finger at me as he scowls. This doesn’t work in his favour as Greta comes over to me and stands beside me. “Ok, fine. It wasn’t either of you. It was the doll.”

With each word, Cole takes a step forward until he’s directly in front of us. “Give me the doll.” I shake my head at his demand and the second he takes another step, I take off running out of the room, tugging Greta to follow along.

“It was me; I swear. Just don’t touch Brahms.”

My lack of direction caused me to end up cornering us in a room as Cole blocked the door. “Give me the doll!” He launches himself forward and grabs Brahms by the legs, shoving me backwards to I hit Greta.

I fall to the ground from the shove, and Malcolm comes running in. “Hey! Get your things and get out of here!” He shouts at Cole.

With the help of Greta, I am able to get back onto my feet and my eyes lock onto Brahms who was being swung around carelessly by Cole. “You know, everyone just seems to be in a big hurry for me to leave. Maybe-” He turns to Malcolm. “Maybe you left that message for me. Huh? Or are you gonna say it was the doll too?”

“Just put Brahms down and we can talk about this.” I attempt to get Cole to leave Brahms alone, but it’s no use.

“Cole, you don’t understand-”

“No, I think I understand exactly what’s going on here. What’s so special about this doll?”

As I go to take a step towards Cole and reach for Brahms, Cole raises Brahms up and swings him back down, causing the doll to hit the edge of a chair and shatter into pieces. The ashes from the doll fly up and I am left in shock. “Brahms.” I mumble.

Suddenly, from inside the walls, we could hear the sound of movement. There were creaks and bangs as well as the lights beginning to flicker. “We need to leave.”

It was as if someone was walking through the walls as everything stopped when it reached a mirror. Cole approaches the mirror and puts his ear to it, in order to hear what’s inside. “We should really go.” Malcolm places a hand on both Greta and me.

“There’s something-” The glass smashes in Cole’s face as he is sent flying back, hitting the ground right in front of us, but that wasn’t what I was focused on.

I was focused on the figure that stood behind the mirror. “Y/n?” My eyes widen as I hear my name being called. “Y/n? Are you okay?” A hand comes out from the mirror followed by the person behind it.

The man hidden behind a mask comes out from the mirror and stands to his full height, towering over Cole who was on the floor in front of him. “Is that-” I begin, but I am cut off by Malcolm.

“It’s Brahms.”

“It can’t be.”

Malcolm runs forward to block Brahms from getting to Cole, but he shoved a way and instead takes a hit to the side of the head with a broken stick of wood.

The man then turns his attention back to Cole and gets on top of him. “Brahms!” I try to stop Brahms from hitting Cole, but once again I find myself on the floor. “Brahms, stop it!” I cry.

Brahms then proceeds to pick up a broken piece from the doll and stabs it straight into Cole’s neck. Blood spills out from the wound and my ears are filled with a chocking sound from Cole.

I stare in shock at the sight in front of me. “Y/n!” My head snaps towards where Greta was standing as she calls me over. This gains Brahms’ attention as he wraps his arms around me and holds me back.

“No!’ I hear his childlike voice whimper. A bit of me broke when I heard him say that, but he also just killed a man right in front of me. "Please, no.”

“Brahms, let her go!” Brahms’ arms tighten around me as he pulls me close.

Brahms’ turn us around and walks us towards the open spot in the wall.

I hear the sound of someone getting hit and then Brahms’ arms loosen around me, and I yanked out of his grip.

Greta holds on as we run up the stairs and into her room that she was staying in. By now I was breathing heavily, whether it was from the amount of running I have done today, or because of how terrified I am, I wasn’t too sure.

Malcolm frantically runs around the room as he looks for a way of escaping. “Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt us.” The door handle then begins to rattle as Brahms tries to get in.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he just killed Cole.” Greta replies. The rattling stops and we start hearing the creaking from inside the wall. “The closet!” Greta runs over to the door and slams it shut. I assist Greta in holding the door shut as Malcolm looks around the room.

A plank from the door is smashed in and Brahms’ arm comes through, grabbing a hold of me again. My hand reaches up to release myself from the hold, and as my hand connects with Brahms, I feel him go tense.

The door opens and Brahms is met with a hit in the face, or mask, from Malcolm who was holding a telephone.

We are, once again, running out of the room and heading into another. “Look.” I point over to the hole in the wall. “We can go through there.” I take the lead as we run through the inside of the wall.

We dodge past pipes and chunks in of the wall that is sticking out.

We find ourselves in a whole new room that looks to be where Brahms has been staying. It was messy and the room smelt foul.

I recognise some things in the room that were once mine, for example, bits of jewellery, notes, and even some clothes. “Y/n, over here.” Greta was standing by a bed, and it was then that I saw the makeshift doll that was wearing a dress of mine that I had lost. The had been decorated with all things that I had lost over the time that I was staying here, and I didn’t miss the magazines and tissues that were scrunched up around the doll.

Beside the bed, and on the nightstand, was a piece of paper. On the paper had the words 'I love you Y/n.’ I didn’t know how to feel about that. Whether I should be flattered, or absolutely mortified at how creepy this all was.

“We will not be back, the girl is yours now, to love and keep.” Greta was reading another piece of paper that she had found. “They were never coming back. He’s been living in the walls this whole time, watching us, or more Y/n. They knew.” Malcolm comes down and guides us to the exit.

I take one last look back at the room before I leave.

We climb down the ladder and quietly make our way out, the only source of light being from the gaps between the wooden planks.

We are stopped when the wall comes caving in and Brahms falls down on top of Malcolm. Brahms is kicked in the face causing him to fall backwards, this way we could drag Malcolm up to his feet.

I feel an ounce of excitement when we end up finding a door that would take us outside, but I also felt sad. I didn’t want to leave this house; I grew attached in such little amount of time.

“It’s locked.” Greta shoves herself into the door in order to open it, but I am too distracted by what is about to come.

Malcolm shoves past me and is tackled to the ground by Brahms.

Fists are swung left to right, but in the end Brahms is the one that comes out on top as he smashes Malcolm’s head into the ground.

“Y/n!” The child voice breaks through. “Y/n!” Brahms’ head turns towards me as I watch his eyes behind the mask. They light up when we make eye contact, something that made me melt inside. “I’ll be good, I promise.” He peers through the pipes.

I look back at Greta who was still desperately trying to make an escape. “Please, Y/n. Don’t leave me.” Brahms begs. Greta shakes her head at me, and I send her a small smile.

“Go, I’ll stay.”

“What? Y/n, no!” I keep my eyes locked with her, but I don’t bother saying anything. “Okay but be safe.” Greta gets the door unlocked and runs out.

I turn back to Brahms who held his hand out towards me. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” He says innocently. I hesitantly place my hand in his and he gently helps me out.

My eyes stray everywhere else but Brahms and Malcolm, who I wasn’t even sure if he was alive at this point. “Thank you, Y/n. You’re the only person that wouldn’t leave me.” Brahms speaks.

I didn’t know if he’s child voice made the situation better or worse, when he spoke, I felt as if he wouldn’t hurt me, or anyone for that matter, but by the two bodies lying on the ground, I knew that I was far from right.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave you.” I remember all the times where I had whispered to the doll Brahms, that I would never leave him alone. “But it’s bedtime, and you know the rules.” His shoulders drop as he nods his head.

Brahms guides me through the confined space in the walls and even helps me step over bits that are sticking out of the floor. “I love you, Y/n. You will never leave me.” Brahms whispers. I silently nod along in agreement and then we are finally out of the small gap and are in Brahms’ room.

I walk over to the bed and lift the covers. “Lay down.” I order. He follows along with what I say and keeps his arms tucked underneath the blanket. Behind the mask, his eyes follow my every movement. “Good boy Brahms, now go to sleep.”

“Kiss?” He mumbles.

I debate on whether I should actually do what he says, but since he was following the rules, the most I could do was follow them too, even if he didn’t necessarily deserve it.

I slowly lean down until I am right above Brahms’, his eyes were piercing through me. I place a gentle kiss right beside the lips of his mask before I pull away, only to be stopped when Brahms’ sits up.

He doesn’t say anything, but instead releases his arms out from underneath the covers and pulls me back down to him in an awkward kiss.

The porcelain lips were cold against my own, and I was unsure of what to do.

I place my hands on Brahms’ shoulders and push him down. “Go to sleep Brahms.” I smile. I watch as his eyes close and then I walk out of the room, flicking the light off along the way.

I walk back downstairs to see Greta walking back in. “Y/n!” She runs towards me and pulls me in for a hug. “You’re okay.” She checks over my body.

“I’m fine but listen. I’m gonna stay.” I tell Greta. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at me with confusion.

“No, Y/n. You’ll-”

“Get Malcolm and leave. I’ll be okay, I promise.” Her eyes held a sense of sadness in them as they glossed over with tears. “He won’t hurt me; he just wants someone to stay with him. I’ll call you often, don’t worry about me, and don’t go to the police about this, please.” I explain.

It took Greta some time, but she eventually ended up giving in. “Okay, I won’t go to the police, but as soon as I feel that something has happened, I will be storming up that footpath, with murder on my mind, you hear me?” I nod my head at her threat.

“Let’s go get Malcolm, and check if he’s fine, I’m not even sure if he’s alive.” I lead Greta up to the room that I knew would lead us down to Malcolm, the only problem is that that was the same room that Brahms was in. I peak my head in the room to see that he was now sitting up right, staring over at us.

As soon as he sees Greta he stands up and reaches for a weapon. “Wait, Brahms!” I run forward and stop him from grabbing something. “She’s going to get Malcolm and then she’s going to leave.” Brahms eyes Greta with a look of anger. “They won’t bother us any longer.” His eyes snap down to mine and then he nods his head, pointing over at the trap door that leads us to the wall. “I will stay, I promise.” Brahms gets back into his bed, and I take Greta with me through the walls.

When we stumble across Malcolm, he was just waking up as he rubs the back of his head. “Malcolm!” Greta greets Malcolm with a hug as she checks his wounds.

“Are you girls alright? Where’s Brahms?”

“We’re fine, but Y/n, she’s going to stay here, with Brahms.” Greta tells Malcolm. He looks over at me like I was some crazy girl, which I couldn’t blame him for.

“Are you out of your mind? He’ll hurt you.”

“Then I’ll be the only one to blame. Look, I don’t want to leave him alone again, he doesn’t have his parents anymore. He needs someone.”

“That’s not your job to keep him company, he is a sick person who needs help-” I interrupt Malcolm before he can continue with his insults.

“I want to stay, Malcolm, and that’s that. Leave while you still have a chance.” The door to the outside was still left wide open from when Greta had run through, leaving them with the perfect opportunity to make their escape. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Greta.”

“Yeah, if you’re still alive.” Malcolm mumbles. He crawls out the door leaving myself and Greta alone.

“Be safe Y/n, please.” We exchange a hug before she takes off behind Malcolm and I shut the door, letting out a sigh as I do so.

I take my time walking back and when I finally reach Brahms’ room, he was standing up and waiting. “You took too long, I got scared.” He whimpers.

Brahms’ fiddles with his hands as he stands across the room from me. “How about you sleep in my bed tonight?” I’m not sure why I decided to say that, but the look in Brahms’ eyes was enough to make me not regret the offer.

He was happy, so, so was I.

[bloodycassian]

COLD NIGHTS - Cassian x Azriel x Reader - Prompt: 

hi i love your work so much!!! I was thinking a cassian x azriel x reader (i just love them sm, why have one when you can have two ) where the reader is sister of a high lord maybe day or winter court, and reader goes missing (kinda angsty) and her brother (a high lord) panics and goes to the night court for help (bc if her two bat boys can’t find her who will)  and az and cassian go full on panic mode and search for the reader, i was also thinking a fluffy cute ending where reader is just cuddling with azriel and cassian while her wounds heal take as much time as you need to write this, don’t pressure yourself. Take care lovely

Kallis would never forget the screams. The terror and panic that rushed through him when he realised that you were gone.  He sent half the city to search for you. He called upon Helion to inspect the magic. He was frantic in finding you. But it was like you had just disappeared out of nowhere. No sign of struggle, not a drop of blood spilled. The offender was sloppy in their ways, but their magic was strong. Helion could sense it.  They had a deathwish from Kallis himself if he ever found them. +  The first thing you saw were your cracked and bloody hands. They were split open from the dry cold wind. Sea air drifted into the cave. The cold brutal howling outside mixed with the roar of waves breaking confirmed your nightmares. Cape Tragedy. 

The islands off the coast of winter were known for their unforgiving nature to ships. Hence their name, Cape Tragedy. Also known as the Tragic coast, no stories were ever heard of any survivors of those crashes. If they had managed to survive the churning water, then the false salvation of the islands would kill them. It happened often enough that there were lighthouses set atop many of the bigger islands for ships to avoid on stormy days.

You coughed from the dry air, earning a pair of yellow eyes to dart to you. One of the three lesser fae males noticed you were awake and clapped. "She wakes! We've been waiting for you, sweetheart." His green skin was pale in the overcast light streaming in from the mouth of the cave. Snow Bear pelts lay all around. A disgrace in your culture. No citizen of Winter court would do such a thing. You looked to the walls to find weapons, and strange markings along the stone. Sailors from far away lands. 

Not even sailors. Pirates. A chill ran through you.  

"We're going to get your weight in gold, pretty one." The scaled male curled a piece of your hair behind you ear. Your stomach turned, and you tried to scoot away. "My brother will kill you first. And he'll take a long time doing it." You promised, trying to make your voice sound strong. Terror had you by it's grip though, and it was hard to do anything other than panic

. "Your brother? The pretty one that shears the Elk?" The green one asked. You laughed, and then were hissing in pain when the scaled male yanked on your hair. "What's so funny?" 

"You think my brother is an elk herder?" You spat "You must be dumber than you look." The males glanced between each other, then to the one who hadn't said anything yet.

"Who ye think you are then?" The male holding your hair stammered, trying to keep his panic under wraps. 

"Kallis' sister." You said with deadly calm. "And the high lord does not negotiate." 

"If you're so noble why you got such a mouth on ye?" The third male finally spoke.

They laughed.

"Maybe we will see just how much of a mouth-" He started again. He didnt have a chance to finish his disgusting words. You kicked, bending an ice spear straight up from the rocky ice floor and through the third male's body. Then the beating from the other two came. 

They bound your wrists and ankles in rope and tar. Their hands shook when they did it. It gave you a small bit of satisfaction. The potion they gave you to knock you out was just barely strong enough. You fought it as best you could, but it won. You could only hear the faint sounds of arguing then a crash of glass, then the cold winds whipping around you. And when you woke, your body ached.  The cold bit into your limbs. Your fingers were pale. Far too pale to be healthy. You knew frostbite when you saw it. Your body refused to move under your own power. Your blood was frozen to the icy ground. They had used a potion and transported you to a peninsula, and you could only faintly hear the ocean below. You could feel the potion wearing off, but you knew you weren't healing. Not yet. You reached down into your own mind, picking up the fading tendrils of power. Of your bond to the two you knew could save you. And you pulled as hard as you could manage.  --- "Fuck." The roaring thought shook Cassian awake. Bleary eyed, he glanced about the room as if there was someone actually shouting at him.  Then he felt it. The weak tug that had been silent for so long. And he knew it was nothing good. Frenzied, he met Azriel at the dining area. Where they spent the rest of the night planning, deducing a probable reason for you to be calling so weakly. They sent their worries to Rhys, but they were shooed away. "I'm researching. Meet me in the library at dawn." The two males tried to comfort each other. But the worry pulsating through the bond was too much to focus on. So they waited. Kallis appeared that morning. He spat his story and begged for help, practically in tears as he spoke to the three Illyrians. Cassian and Az knew something was wrong the moment you were attacked. Court laws forbade them interfering on Winter Court territory though.  As soon as the approval was given, the brothers winnowed to the border of Winter and started flying. + You were coming to terms that you would die in the cold. You had imagined death differently. Battle was the primary way you thought you'd die. Or at the end of a High Lord's magic for being too much of an advisor. Smiling at the memory of putting Tamlin in his place, you gave another tug down the bonds to your mates. And like a snap, they both tugged back. Almost in unison. It was hard to tell. You closed your eyes, listening to the soft waves below. They lulled you into a cold sleep yet again.  + Despite the cold, the Illyrians flew as fast as they could. They could sense your light fading, and chased it for mile after mile. Their wings cut through the harsh winter winds, fueled by rage and desperation. Then they spotted the dark figure frozen to the snow below. Cassian landed first, a few feet away. The ice cracked beneath him. "Get us out of here." He growled to Azriel.  "We need to make sure she's okay before we move."  Cassian growled, but didn't protest. Azriel understood. He felt the anguish and frustration through the shared bond. Az's hands pressed gently to your neck, checking your pulse. He swore. "Baby, we need you to wake up for us. We're here. We got you." Cassian put a hand to your cheek and fought back the tears that threatened.  You groaned in response. They both sighed in relief, their breath making clouds in front of them. "I'm stuck..." You managed through your stiff jaw.  Cassian stroked a thumb over your cheek. "Stuck? Honey you're-"  "Cas..." Azriel nodded to your side, to the ice that crept its way up your damp clothes. Azriel could have taken a very very long time torturing the beasts that did this to his mate. The rage coiled in his gut at the sight of your injuries. The only reason you hadn't bled out was the blood and water mix turning your wounds to ice.  Cassian pulled at the ice web that encapsulated you. Under the heat of his rage it broke, and broke and broke. Azriel placed small patches of his shield over your frostbitten fingers. "We're gonna get you out of here. Just stay still." Azriel smoothed back your hair, and darkness swirled over you. The change from the harsh overcast light of Winter court to the soft sun of Night court was jarring.  Madja put her hands on you and you were asleep in an instant. Her warm hands were a blessing from the Mother.  +  "She's lucky she has that Winter blood in her or she'd be dead." Madja wiped her hands off and handed both the Illyrians a small vial. "That is the scrap from a poisoned sword that broke off in her shoulder. I got all the pieces out, but the poison lingers. It may heal slowly, but it should get better."  Anguish burned both of their stomachs. Azriel's throat tightened and he looked away, but gripped the vial tightly. Cassian stared at it, his eyes murderous. Madja left without another word. "She was almost killed. And we couldn't do anything." Cassians' voice was low, with violence dripping from it. "We need her here. In Velaris where we can... watch her." He didn't know what he was saying, but the instinct to protect was overriding every other logical thought he had. Anger burned and burned in his stomach, swallowing him with rage. He could feel Az mirroring the same feeling, but with a cold deadliness that begged to simmer out of him.  "You know she wont go for that. She loves her home too much. Her brother." Azriel whispered back. "We're her mates. She should be with us." Cassian was looking for a fight. All the tension and anger of the day had to be worked out. Azriel felt it too. His shadows ran anxiously through the room.

The wind outside howled. It shifted the dark clouds that covered the moon. It seemed to be a cold day in all of Prythian. A cold day in your mates hearts to the pirates that had taken you. They spoke their rage mind to mind, imagining the ways to torture the bastards. 

How to find them would be the first priority. Azriel kept circling back to that part. + The healer cleared his throat at the door. "She's asking for you." He nodded to Rhys' brothers. They left Rhys behind in unison, walking in perfect step with each other. Their minds hummed together over that bond they shared with you. "Protect protect protect." They both seemed to demand.  Azriel knocked softly, his heart flipping when he heard your voice again. "Get in here." You demanded, giving them a broad smile when they practically shoved each other out of the way. 

"Come keep me warm." You weakly folded the blanket back, exposing some of the bruising on your skin. 

They complied with enthusiasm. Azriel's hands were cold at first, but they got better when he reached around you to hold Cassian closer. They worked in tandem to keep you covered, making sure that you weren't too crowded or too warm. Azriel summoned his cool shadows when you got too warm and had to kick the blankets off. Cassian's warm breath would keep you warm when they became too much. You traced Azriel's cheekbones, the sharp edge of his jaw while falling alseep. Cassian's muscled forearms hugging you from behind were like a heavy pillow. 

"Rest now, we can have more fun later." Az winked, making your stomach flutter. Cassian groaned and pulled you further to his lap. You tried not to think of the hardness that pressed to you now.  "Goodnight." The shadowsinger kissed your forehead and like a light, you were out. Finally resting peacefully wrapped between your two mates and their warm bond you all shared. 

[obeymeluv]

QUICK! KISS ME! [Bros x Reader]

A lead-up blurb before I go to bed.

School is killing me. This has been in the drafts far longer than I wanted.

No offense if your name is Bethany. It’s a name I picked at random.

The follow-up piece will have the kiss scenarios.

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Some of Asmo’s friends may have used you to get into a special makeup event, but it’s okay! They bought you a lip gloss as a thank you! The shade ‘Sealed with a Kiss’ was not what you thought it’d be

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Being one of the first humans in the Devildom could be uncomfortable and sometimes down-right dangerous! It also had its perks. To you, that meant being close with the Seven Lords of Hell (and Diavolo). To other lesser demons and classmates, you were kind of a ‘get out of jail’ free card.

Were they late to class? Oh, just helping the human out!

Caught sneaking in food or drink when they weren’t supposed to? It’s to split with the human, of course! They thought you’d love to try it!

Everyone was keen not to overuse it and you’d actually made good friends this way. It was starting to feel less like an excuse and more of a way to be included. You were the friendly, reliable human that had won hearts and saved some asses. As a thank you, one of your closer friends (a repeat offender for lateness), invited you out to an exclusive makeup release. She was a VIP member and had early access an hour before the store opened to the Devildom public. 

The fact that she chose you, a human, over some LITERAL century-old friends caused a bit of tension but she could care less. “I’ve seen them every day for over a hundred years. You get one year, and we’re going to make it awesome!” Bethany breezed through the store at a dizzying pace, picking through concealers and opening a box of mascara to look at the packaging. She moved at a pace only demons could manage; you thought you saw her by the nail polish display but when you looked again she was throwing sheet masks in her basket. Hooking her arm with yours, she picked up some foundation on the way back to the coveted display of lip glosses and lipsticks.

You weren’t totally versed in the differences between Devildom makeup and human world makeup. In all honesty, there didn’t seem to be a difference. Bethany swatched powdery cream lipsticks on her wrist and followed with ribbons of liquid lipstick. Every now and then she dotted them on your arm; she was adamant about finding a shade the both of you could wear as your thing.  

“This one,” she decided, waving the tube at you and booping your nose with it carefully. “This is our color!” she took you by the hand and joined the checkout line. She had two in her hand but refused to let you so much as hold one, wanting to pay for it first. It wasn’t technically breaking the purchase limit rule; if they tried to nag her she’d just say she was holding onto it so another demon didn’t bully you out of it. You didn’t know if it was her VIP status or the fact that her defense made sense, but you were able to check out without a problem.

A few sour faces and mean glares met you outside but Bethany ignored it all, eager to have a Devilgram-worthy celebratory snack break (snack victory? You know, since you got the makeup?) The plan was to eat, hold down a table at the nearby cafe while her other friends shopped, and have group makeovers (or try-ons) before calling it a day. That plan was interrupted three bites into a croissant sandwich when Lucifer summoned you back to the House of Lamentation. He’d gotten wind of all the girls you’d be with and didn’t feel totally comfortable letting you hang out with them,

Had Barbatos seen something? Did Lucifer feel spurned that you weren’t hanging out with the Seven Lords of the Devildom? He gave no answer, simply asking you to stay put while someone came to escort you back to the house. Bethany was put off by the turn of events but few people dared to complain about the Seven Lords due to their connections with Diavolo (she was no exception). “If we can’t get the full makeover, we’re getting the selfie!” she declared, deftly breaking the seal to her Sealed with a Kiss gloss and swiping it on with help from the front-facing camera on her D.D.D

You busied yourself with opening your tube. Before you could ask for her phone (since the camera was already open), she took the tube from you and tilted your chin up. She dabbed the center of your lips playfully before carefully tracing your lips with the color. The heat rose in your cheeks and she smirked. Being part succubus, she could draw energy from emotions like embarrassment and the feeling of being flattered. Her fingertips pulsed under your chin as she drew on that energy. 

Getting energy sucked could feel like a lot of things -- being light-headed, getting a rush of excitement, all prickly and tingly like your whole body was pins and needles. Whatever it was, it usually faded into drowsiness and kittenish contentment. She probably only touched your chin for seconds but the wash of coziness had you melting against your chair, your cheek cradled in her palm. 

Did she take the pic? What was happening? It felt like Asmodeus had materialized out of thin air, helping you stand and making small-talk with Bethany before pulling you away, out of her aura that was trying to suckle the vestiges of happy energy you offered.

“And what shade did you get on those pretty lips, hm?” the cotton fell out of your head and ears, allowing you to really hear Asmo now that the aura effects had worn off.

“Uh,” you fished around in your bag and looked at the packaging. “Sealed with a Kiss.”

Asmodeus stopped so abruptly it’d almost yanked you back to him. The two of you were barely tangled at the pinkies and now he’d completely laced your hands together. He held your hands captive, drawing them up in surprise and basically dragging you into his torso. You were forced to look up into glittering pink eyes and if you didn’t know any better, they looked a little panicked.

“How long ago did you apply it?”

“I don’t know.” you blinked helplessly at him. That energy suck thing had a way of making your brain tune out and turn to pudding. That aside, who knows how long Asmo stood there and talked to Bethany while you were being siphoned?! “Bethany applied it, not me.”

Asmo clicked his tongue, huffed, resigned himself to only holding one hand. and started scrolling on his D.D.D to find that selfie Bethany posted. You were being dragged along like a child as Asmo’s shoes clicked towards the House of Lamentation. It amazed you how well he could navigate his D.D.D with his long, painted nails. 

Whatever he was looking for, he found it.

Asmodeus tucked his D.D.D into his pants pocket, scooped you up in a way that terrified and amazed you (two people being supported by one set of heels?), and flew to the House of Lamentation. He didn’t always use his wings, as he preferred to decorate them and maintain them with oils, but the fact that he was flying made you nervous.

What had he found? What was the deal?

“Asmo--” you started nervously, the flapping of his wings nearly drowning you out as he pushed himself. Flying against the wind didn’t help. Your hair was a mess and the wind was in your face; the Devildom was always a little chilly but now it was enough to make your face tingly.

“She gave you enchanted makeup. There is a reason humans don’t use enchanted makeup.” Asmo’s pretty brows furrowed as he cut a hard angle and glided over a portion of the square. The tell-tale thicket of trees that lined the winding path back to the House of Lamentation were on the edge of the horizon.

“What’s going to happen?” should you ask that? Did you really want to know?

“You’ll feel something in your lips--some people felt tingling, some people felt pulsing, it can be anything, I think--and then they’ll seal shut.”

“SHUT?!” you yelped. It was enough to make Asmo wince. The startle carried over to his wings; they shuddered and locked; the two of you dropped for a heartbeat or two before he corrected himself.

“If I can’t get some makeup remover on it first.” Asmo panted, tucking his wings in and preparing for a quick descent. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought to teleport first--the panic? Trying to one-up Bethany by walking home and being extra cute with hand-holding?--but a quick touch down could roll into a simple skip teleportation and everything should work out!

“But my lips are already tingly!”

“Ugh, Bethany! I can’t believe you! I mean, I can because it’s you, but really, Bethany?”

“Asmo, focus!” you’d already skipped several feet ahead, clearing the front yard in two teleports. The third put you in the foyer. “I don’t want my lips to seal shut!”

The House of Lamentation was huge but when the occupants had supernatural hearing, that exclamation turned heads. 

“What’s this about your lips sealing shut?” Lucifer appeared at the top of his stairs, his head already shaking.

“DID YOU MAKE A PACT WITH A WITCH?!” Mammon screamed down the hall, clearly not far behind.

Asmo scoffed, lowering his D.D.D with a pout. He was halfway up the main stairs, fingers working at lightning speed. “It’s the lip color!” he explained, stomping his foot. Noisy people were just so annoying! If everyone was talking he couldn’t explain! How rude! 

“All this over some makeup?” skeptical Satan peered over the banister, book and arm casually propped up on it.

“If two people apply the color and kiss, they’re locked in a makeout session until it dries down. When one person applies the lip color, they can use it like a cheat sheet to see who secretly wants to kiss them,” his words tapered out from authoritatively informed to quiet and shy. “It’s from their ‘Liquid Love’ collection.” he muttered into the stunned silence of the room.

You were trying to open your lips and ask why. The magic had already taken hold. Asmodeus could see you trying to move your lips and strain your chin. Luckily, demons could read minds. “It’s because Bethany is stupid.” Asmodeus rolled his eyes. “Ambitious, but stupid.”

“Please explain, Asmo.” even when using the dear nickname Lucifer couldn’t hide the demand. His demon aura was creeping up his body and slowly becoming jagged and suffocating.

“Bethany has had a HUGE crush on our little human here, and wanted to seal it with a kiss, so to speak.” Asmo’s cheeks got pinker and pinker as he explained. Mostly because he was mad he didn’t think about it. His heart did something funny at the thought of you kissing someone else. Lucifer also looked like he wanted to murder someone about now, and Asmo had to remind himself that he was being looked through, not looked at.   

“Just grab a napkin and wipe it off.” Mammon shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Asmodeus shook his head angrily. “It’s too late now. We need to find someone for them to kiss! Someone’s lips will break the seal on theirs...that’s kind of the point of the enchantment.”

“So they just pick someone to kiss?” Levi’s face was turning tomato red. Would it be him?! It would at least be one of them, right? What if your person wasn’t in the House of Lamentation and you NEVER SPOKE AGAIN?!

“Sort of.” Asmo patted your shoulders with his gentle, smooth hands. He started to rub them like he was trying to warm you up. Partly in encouragement and partly to get your attention because he could feel your brain spiraling down into panic. “They basically follow their mouth.”

“So that lip color is like a crush detector?” Satan abandoned his book at the top of the stairs and was now perusing articles on his D.D.D as he sauntered down the steps. It sounded like he’d found the one that sent Asmo flying to the House of Lamentation.

“Basically.” Asmo sighed. It was the stupidest way to confess to someone, he thought. Demon to demon, it was fine. Demon to human?! NO! The whole thing gave him a headache. The fact that Bethany thought she could just steal your little lips and be greedy with them was the biggest annoyance of it all.

“So,” Satan’s green eyes cut sharply from his phone to you. The corner of his lips curled up in a smart little smirk. He knew it was wrong to find your predicament so funny, but this was a very human thing to get mixed up in. “Who do your lips want? Who do you feel yourself being drawn to?”

[1kook]

commercial break ; EIGHT

this is part of my netflix & chill series! takes place a little after part 7 :)

SUMMARY You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same.�� WARNINGS unprotected sex, nipple clamps, overstimulation, pretty pet names for jk, oc is so fckin horNEE, both have a high sex drive, oc is obsessed with the koobies MISC flashbacks to jk’s ex gf yes you read right!, there’s backstory yuck, taehyung the bestie, jk is just so happy where he is now <3 RATING m (18+) WC 1.9k

NOTES finally after six months..... we get a glimpse of jk’s life pre-netflix n chill 🥶 also i just rlly wanted to write jk wearing the nipple clamps hehe 

Taehyung had warned him about this. 

“As hard as it is to believe,” he had said one night during their first year of university, haphazardly parked outside of a Wendy’s at three in the morning. Jungkook was trying to finish an assignment— early, always early —when he had been abruptly hauled to fulfill Taehyung’s spicy chicken sandwich craving. “Girls are hornier than guys.”

Jungkook remembers it so clearly. 

He had chuckled, had harbored this feeling of contentment, of belonging, with his best friend beside him, talking about the most mundane things. “No way,” he had said. He had only broken up with Haerim last month; his first girlfriend, his first heartbreak, all in his first year of college. So he wasn’t particularly bothered with women at the moment, and he probably wouldn’t be for a long time. He quite liked this life of solitude, the peaceful waves brought upon by the comfort of being alone, the occasional break in the water when Taehyung or Namjoon checked in on him. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, had always been concerned with women. A furious nod, huge eyes. “Dude, I swear,” he had exclaimed, and then had launched into a full feature recapture of how horny his then-girlfriend always was. Jungkook had simply listened— it’s what he does best —and nodded along when Taehyung continued his silly ramblings. 

He can still remember his thought process. 

Of course girls are horny. But Jungkook doubts they’re as horny as him or any of the guys he knew. Speaking for himself, Jungkook knows his sex drive is too high; too high for someone who’s only lost his virginity earlier that year. 

Haerim had once told him he asked for too much. And Jungkook understood, really; she was his first, and maybe he got a little too excited in his conquest to try everything, a conquest she wasn’t too keen on joining. “Do you even like me?” she had asked the night they broke up. “Or do you just want to have sex?”

Both, he remembers thinking, but that thought had felt like the wrong answer to give her. Her words had made him squirm, had made him feel so small. Was he asking her for too much? Was Jungkook too much— a handful for her to deal with? Jungkook’s love language had always been physical touch. He thought she understood that. 

They parted ways in the most mature way possible. A simple break-up, no hard feelings. Jungkook felt terrible. He had pushed her too far, had asked for too much. They aren’t as horny as guys, he remembers thinking. Or at least, not as horny as Jungkook. 

In the end, Jungkook remembers politely disagreeing with Taehyung on the matter. 

Until now, nearly four years later, with your hands circling his bare waist. 

He’d just finished nailing you into the mattress not even ten minutes ago, had fucked his cock into you until you were screaming so loud your neighbor had banged on your shared wall. Your lips are soft against his shoulder, the prettiest little giggle slipping past them. It’s pitch black outside, your room enveloped in shadows, but the warmth you press against his back is akin to that of the sun’s; Jungkook can’t think of a more fitting comparison. “I was thinking,” you purr, voice like warm honey down his throat. It makes him melt, has his eyes fluttering shut as your hands trace feathery lines against the waistband of his boxers. 

“That’s not good,” he manages to murmur, trapping your hand over his belly button. You make this sound, something between a satisfied hum and a moan; Jungkook wants nothing more than to spread your legs far apart and lick you down the middle. You shuffle closer behind him. He can feel your tits against his back, the hardened nub of your nipples. 

But it appears Jungkook isn’t the only one interested in nipples tonight. 

“The clamps,” you whisper, voice nearly lost under the thrum of the air conditioning, the steady beat of his heart in his chest. 

And in that moment, Jungkook truly understands what Taehyung had meant that night. 

They sting, terribly so, make him feel like someone is going to rip his nipples out of his chest at any moment. But at the same time, they make his toes curl, make Jungkook grind his teeth together in a feeble attempt to dismiss the pleasure. 

On top of that, the look on your face when Jungkook leans over you, the thin metal chain of the nipple clamps touching your chin, is enough to fuel his solo sessions for years to come. “Oh,” you gasp, trembling hand reaching up for the glittering chain. 

Jungkook hisses at the tug, accidentally bucks forward into the warm cradle between your legs. It makes you whimper, hand on his shoulder, the other holding onto the cruel device on his chest. “Fuck,” he bites, brows furrowed together as he glares down at you. 

“S- So pretty,” you slur, delirious. Jungkook’s not even inside of you, just has his cock resting on your hip. He thinks there might be a droplet of drool clinging to your lips. “Jungkook,” you breathe, finally lifting the other hand to his chest, thumb caressing the pretty gold clamp that is squeezing the life out of his nipple. It feels so good, and Jungkook is so embarrassed. 

You let him in soon enough, eyes trained on his flushed chest as he sinks into you. You’re still so loose, so wet and tender from the fucking he gave you earlier, from the two orgasms from before. He can’t comprehend how you’re still asking for more, capable of more, after he had spit in your mouth, bent you like a pretzel, and all but consumed your entire being in his earlier lust. 

He reaches the hilt and you tug at Jungkook’s clamps, make his chest jerk forward in surprise. “Fuck!” he chokes, hand on the back of your thigh around him. “Don’t f- fucking do that,” he begs, but it feels so good and you’re so entranced, he hardly thinks you hear him. 

It’s like you’re stuck in a daze, tiny mouth opening to release the sweetest little moans, eyes scarily trained on his chest. It’s like you don’t see him, don’t see Jungkook right before you, and for some reason… he adores the feeling. “Look at me,” he whispers, testing the waters. 

You spare him a glance, a supportive smile, and then it’s back to staring at his nipples. 

It makes Jungkook awfully hard. 

In a weird, roundabout sort of way, it’s like he’s being used. Like he’s nothing but a pawn in your lustful schemes, just a visual stimulus to help get you off; in short, it’s a teensy bit degrading. Dismissive. Whatever you want to call it. 

His dick twitches at the thought. 

And, like always, you’re in perfect step with him. Another tug at the chain, another moan torn from his lips. “So pretty for me,” you croon. It’s his line, you know it’s always been his line. Jungkook pushes deeper into you, but aside from a sinful cry, it doesn’t deter you. A wicked grin crosses your features, hand crawling around his neck to tangle in his locks again. “Tits all pink,” you shiver, tapping the pad of a finger against his nipple. Jungkook’s eyes roll to the back of his head, bucks forward suddenly. 

“N- Not pretty,” he growls, pushing you down deeper against the sheets, like maybe they’ll swallow you up and he’ll be saved from your lewd ways. “You’re pretty.”

You chuckle, and then contradict the sweet tone of your voice with a harsh tug against his clamps. Jungkook all but howls, pistons into you until he feels your cervix kiss his tip, call him forward, practically beg for him to fill you whole. “Prettiest boy,” you whimper, tracing his swollen nipple with your finger as if it’ll soothe the prickling sensations that shoot down his spine, makes him rut deeper into you. 

Jungkook wants to cum so badly, wants to spill his seed down your insides until it paints every wall, kisses every inch, until it’s physically impossible for you to not be pregnant. 

But the worst thing is, Jungkook is so terribly spent from the early events of that night, that the mere thought of coming again sounds like it would be painful. Of course, Jungkook immediately realizes the hypocrisy in his statement— he frequently makes you come various times in one night, sometimes in the span of a few minutes —but he never thought he’d be on the receiving end of this— this— overstimulation. 

Your walls squeeze around him, your fingers playfully tugging at the chain in intervals until Jungkook’s back arches forward, hips grinding against your quivering opening. “Cum inside,” you pant, curling one finger around the wretched contraption that seems intent on killing him slowly. He groans, hips snapping at your offer. He wants to so badly, but his toes curl, stomach tightens almost ominously. “Maybe if you do it a second time I’ll get p—“

“Shut up,” he begs, gasping for breath. You manage to laugh through a moan, harshly yanking your fist towards you in a motion that nearly has him crashing down on top of you. “I can’t—“ he shudders, forearms trembling. 

“You can,” you encourage, ankles locking together at the base of his spine. His every being feels overwhelmed, head like TV static. His dick throbs, practically begs for another orgasm that Jungkook fears will tear him apart, leave him a boneless pile of limbs for days. And his chest— “look, Jungkook,” you purr, pinching the already tortured nub between your fingers, “look at your fucking tits” —feels like heaven. 

It only takes a few more rushed thrusts, your stuttering moans like music to his ears, and a particularly brutal pull of the clamps on his chest, before Jungkook is bursting. And it’s painful, just as he thought, makes him release the most airy, fluttery whine. It’s so embarrassing, and frankly surprising, how high his voice can get, but it makes you beam beneath him. “Oh, such a good boy,” you coo, catching him in your arms when he slumps forward, chest against yours. 

He’s as boneless as he predicted, jaw twitching as he tries to gather himself into an acceptable state again. “Fuck you,” he groans, hips jerking with the after shocks of such a stimulated orgasm. 

You laugh, carding your hands through his hair. “You were made to wear cute things like that,” you mumble, lips pressed against his temple. 

Before he can speak (not that he knows what he’d say), you’re tugging him back by his hair, looking like you’ll eat him alive. He wants you to. “The cuffs,” you murmur, nose knocking against his. “Let’s try those on you next.” 

You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. 

But Jungkook is the same. You match him so well, fill the gaps when he’s too shy, lay yourself out when he needs more. 

(“You ask for too much,” Haerim had confessed, staring him down from the doorway of his dormitory. The room had always felt small, but today it feels miniature. Like the walls are closing in on him; he can’t breathe. “I don’t think anyone in this world can keep you satisfied, Jeon Jungkook.”)

Your heel knocks against the back of his thigh, and he is suddenly made aware of the trembling lips of your cunt around his cock, still so wet— still so horny. “Again?” you ask so sweetly, fingers dancing across his back. 

Jungkook shivers. “Again.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[johnsamericano]

Can do a fic about dilf doyoung is your Father's friend but u have a secret relationship with him them one day he got you preggo so u moved in with him plsssss also put a lot of smut shshshhshsh pls I hope you read this.

Hi there! My requests are currently closed but I can never resist writing dilf!Doyoung so you’re lucky. There's not THAT much smut in this because I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. Hope you like it!

warnings: dirty talking, sex, language, use of the name daddy, spanking, unexpected pregnancy, age gap.

“What’s the meaning of this invitation, Mr. Kim?” You inquired, walking past the front door with a gym bag hanging from your shoulder. “It's not every day you invite me to a private swimming party.”

“Very funny.” He welcomed you with a hug, his warm, naked chest pressed against your covered one. “Jeno’s out with his friends. He won't come back until tomorrow.”

“Aw, but where's the fun in that? I wanted to be with him.” That response earned you a slap in the ass, hard enough to serve as a warning not to keep testing his patience.

“Get changed. I'll wait for you in the hot tub.”

You locked yourself in the nearest bathroom, quickly yanking off your clothes to replace them with a baby blue bikini. You knew how much he loved the matching set, not as much as taking it off you, of course.

Wanting to make him wait for a while longer, you neatly folded your clothes and placed them over your sleeping wear inside the bag you'd brought with you.

“Took you long enough.” He was sitting inside the water, his arms spread wide as he gave you a less than amused look. “Come here.”

Despite how dominant he might look on the outside, he never managed to fool you. As soon as you were between his arms, your face was guaranteed to be covered with kisses from his soft lips.

“I missed you this past few weeks.” His wet thumb traced figures over your arm, avoiding looking into your eyes. “Why haven't you visited?”

Your fingers played with the small, grey hairs covering the nape of his neck.

“It's getting harder to hide it from Jeno, and I know if he ever found out, our friendship would be over. I don't wanna lose him.”

“He’ll find out, better sooner than later.” The look on your face must've given away your thoughts. “What? Did you think this was just something casual?”

“I mean...” His jaw dropped, arms falling into the water with a splash. “Look, you have to understand me. We started right after your wife left, I thought you were using me to forget her. And I didn't mind-”

“Using you?” Just a few millimeters and his eyebrows would be touching. “Have you always thought so low of me?”

“Doyoung...”

“I want a future with you, y/n. Not just an occasional fuck but an actual relationship, and if you don't feel the same about me, then we might as well end things here.” This was the first time you'd seen him mad, with his whole face red from anger and the warmth of the jacuzzi, he looked as if he were about to explode.

“Of course I do. But it's complicated.” The red shade tinting his cheeks and ears, slowly faded. “No one would accept our relationship, for starters.”

“I couldn't care less about other’s opinions.”

In less than a second, his lips crashed against yours, hard. But there was a hint of sweetness in his wild movements, the way his hands caressed your back while his tongue worked its way inside your mouth aggressively.

“Already so eager?” He asked as your heat rubbed itself against his clothed cock. “Not here.”

“What...?”

The muscles in his legs tensed as he stood up with you still between his arms. He was strong, for a man of his age, of course.

“I’m afraid that I've been fucking you the wrong way, which might have been the reason for you to have the wrong idea about us.” Leaving a trail of water drops behind you, you climbed up the stairs leading to the second floor, where his room was located. “Scratch that. No more fucking, from now on, I'm gonna make love to you.”

“Have you always been this cheesy?” Your feet touched the floor as he removed his hands from below your thighs, slightly pushing you until the back of your knees touched the mattress.

“Don’t make me change my mind and spank that pretty ass.”

“Rude.” You let yourself fall on the fresh comforter, dragging him down with you.

“Take your clothes off for me, won't you?” He busied himself pulling down his swimming trunks while you struggled with the knot keeping your bra in place. “Such a silly, little girl. Can't do anything without her daddy, can her?”

“Please.” Even though you hated being humiliated, your core didn't seem to bother. His degrading words only caused your essence to form an even larger patch on your bikini. “Doyoung...”

“Fine.” His cock was standing proudly, his tip dripping with small beads of precum. “On your knees and turn around.”

He worked through the knots as fast as his trembling fingers allowed him to. His mouth was aching to say the special words he'd been keeping to himself for a while now, but he didn't have enough courage yet.

“Ready.” The straps fell down your arms, tickling the skin as they slid.

You took the last piece of your suit off, finally allowing your body to be consumed by the humidity of the summer evening. Doyoung was quicker to enter you than usual. No teasing, just lovemaking as he’d promised earlier.

“You’re so warm.” His lips were attached to your collarbone, sucking to leave a mark big enough for everyone to see. “Your little cunt takes me so well. No one else could make me feel as good as you do.”

With his hips pistoning your hole, your fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, dancing over the tender skin. The way you were looking at each other, so intimate and full of affection, had the words he'd been wanting to say rushing out of his lips.

“I love you.” His movements faltered as if waiting for you to give him any type of answer.

“What’s with that scared face?” You giggled, every inch of your skin flushed with embarrassment and desire. “I love you too.” He loved how young you made him feel, like a silly teenager confessing to his crush only to find out his feelings were reciprocated.

His thrusts resumed, this time slower, deeper, making sure you felt every single ridge and vein of his cock. His length caressed your walls oh so deliciously, bringing you closer and closer to your high. Until someone had to ruin it.

“Dad, where are you?” In a rush, Doyoung pulled out, not even noticing how his seed spilled out of your hole. Fear had taken over the pleasure.

“Get in the bathroom, he probably just forgot something. Don't worry.”

As he'd said, Jeno was quick to leave. Not even ten minutes later, Doyoung was back in his room, announcing Jeno’s little getaway got extended.

“So that means, you can stay for a while longer. Only if you want of course.” The bathtub was filling with warm water and bubbles he'd added. “Or we can go on our own trip, whatever you want.” You felt at ease between his arms, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

Who would've thought you'd be losing your mind a few weeks later because of the same man that had given you so much peace before.

“How could you forget to wear protection?!”

“Don't treat me as if I were the only one responsible for this situation.” You hid your face between the warmth of your palms, supporting the side of your head against the window. “Look at me, baby.”

You shook your head, tears starting to slip between your fingers.

“I’m here for you, darling. Whatever you want to do, I'll fully support you.” His thumb traced the shape of the shell of your ear.

“I don't know what I want to do.”

“We still have time to help you figure things out, okay?” There was a certain sadness to his tone, almost as if his hopes were vanishing.

He didn't want to get rid of it, but being pregnant was a burden that you'd have to carry alone as much as he tried to help. It was your choice and only yours.

“I want to have it, but I don't even have a job or economical support. My parents would kill me if they found out. And Jeno, oh boy, he'd have a heart attack.”

“You have me, y/n. And even though I can't do anything about other people's reactions, I'll always be by your side.”

Doyoung wasn't lying. He walked you through every step, even assumed part of the responsibility when talking to your parents, who didn't react as badly as you'd foreseen.

“Just make sure you're making the right choice.” They'd said.

Jeno was the last person to find out.

“Oh, hey y/n. Were you waiting for me?” He dropped the sports bag right in front of de door.

“We have to tell you something.”

“We?” The look on his face was almost comical as if life had been sucked out of his handsome features.

“Yes, we.” Doyoung laced his fingers with yours, tightly locking your hands together.

His father explained the situation calmly, making sure to use the right words to avoid scaring him away. By the time he was done, Jeno was just staring at you with an emotionless face.

“Jeno?” Your heart dropped at the thought of losing your friend. “Say something, please.”

“You want me to say something?”

There was a small, dramatic pause to add some tension to his words. But the mood lightened as soon as his eyes became crescent moons.

“Bold of you to assume I wasn't aware of your little relationship.” He giggled. “It's okay, guys. You're both adults and I trust you know what you're doing.”

“What the hell is going on?” Your thoughts slipped out of your mouth.

“Thank you, Jeno.” Doyoung mouthed, squeezing your shoulder.

“Man, I always wanted a little brother.” He walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you and his father's neck.

“I rather have a girl this time.”

“Should I call you mom?” Jeno teasingly asked, poking the back of your head.

“Try me.”

(...)

As you folded your clothes and placed them in your new closet, the sun started setting. The light sound of sizzling could be heard from the room, probably Doyoung cooking dinner.

“Y/n!” He shouted from downstairs. “Come help me set the table.”

“Coming!” You set aside the remaining boxes. There were not many clothes left to unpack, so you could finish after eating.

You tiptoed on your way downstairs, accomplishing to scare him with a surprise back hug.

“Stop, you could've burnt yourself.” He scolded, undoing your hug only to quickly pull you by his side moments later.

“Is it me or are you getting a little too overprotective?”

“Am not!” His eyebrows quivered like they did every time he lied.

“Really? Then why haven't we had sex ever since you found out I was pregnant?” Your hand teasingly traced figures on his lower abdomen, a little too close to the stove he was using.

“You’re gonna get burnt.” Once again, he tried to push you away, but your hand remained in the same position. “Baby...”

“Uh-uh, you're not gonna sweet-talk your way out. Why won't you touch me anymore? Have I lost my charm or something?”

“What? No!” He turned off the stove, completely turning to his side to face you. “I just don't wanna hurt the baby.”

“Bullshit. You know it's still safe to do it, you already had one son, for god's sake.” Your arms were crossed over your slightly swollen mounds. “I want the truth.”

“I’m telling you the truth...” There was no nervous quiver from his eyebrows, but his tone was less than convincing.

“The whole truth, Doyoung.”

There was no way out, he had to tell you what he'd been trying to hurry at the back of his head for weeks now.

“I can't stop thinking that the only reason we became official is because of this baby, and I'm afraid if you lose it, I'll lose you as well.” It seemed as if your roles had reversed, as if he was the youngest, the most immature.

“Idiot.” You flicked his forehead with anger, later pulling him into a bear hug. “Get those stupid ideas out of your little head or I'll have to slap them out of you.”

“Rude much.”

“I told you once before we found out about the baby...” Your lips were achingly close to his, ready to kiss those soft, pink pillows. “I love you.”

Your eyes were stuck on his lips, too busy to notice how his eyes started sparkling, the edge of them trying to contain his tears. After a while, you looked up, his nostalgic expression puzzling you.

“I’m sorry, it's the hormones.” He sniffled.

“That's not how pregnancy works, honey.”