#like he’s bathed in golden light and no one knows where the fuck it’s from

[babylonqaf]

listen i know people love the “ghost wears a mask because he has so many scars” headcanon or the “ghost wears a mask because of trauma” headcanon and so do i but i’m also a “ghost wears a mask because he’s so pretty, his face belongs on the body of a cherub, and people don’t take him seriously without the mask” believer and nothing can change my mind

[getoslamb]

Kinktober Day 2 - Vampire! Gojo

contains: nsfw content (mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, biting/marking, blood drinking, oral (reader receiving), fingering, teasing, he calls you 'dove' - for more kinktober here - wc: 4.1k

The room was bathed with golden, warm candlelight dancing across the walls. The air was thick with tension-one brought about by too much pent-up desire. You felt the intensity of Satoru looking at you with those icy blue eyes which pierced through the dim lighting, fixed only on you.

His interest in you had always been apparent, even when you didn't know what he truly was. Now, with full knowledge of him being a vampire, everything fell into place: how observant of you he always had been, keenly aware of your presence. It was in the hunger visible behind his gaze whenever he was near. It wasn't just infatuation.

This ran so much deeper and darker.

You were pinned beneath him now, his body cool against the heat of your skin, his lips grazing your collarbone in teasing, measured touches. Each scrape of his lips sent a shiver down your spine, but the way his teeth skated over your skin was what really got your heart racing.

"Your pulse," Satoru breathed, the low huskiness in his voice sending a thrill through you. "I can hear it. I can feel it." He pressed a cold hand to your chest, over your heart, his lips grazing your neck as he spoke. "It drives me insane."

His mouth trailed down your throat, gently kissing and running his teeth softly along the skin but never breaking it. He left little hickeys in his wake until your breath caught in your throat. The feeling was intoxicating, this threat of pain and pleasure all mixed together into something you couldn't resist. He was always this way: hungry, obsessed, dangerously possessive when it came to you.

And there was no mistaking how badly you wanted him too.

"Satoru…" you whispered, your fingers curling into his hair as you pulled him closer, almost like you were daring him to bite.

He chuckled softly against your neck, the low sound sending chills along your spine. "You want it, don't you, dove?" he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive spot where your pulse thrummed just beneath the surface. "You want me to bite you."

It wasn't a question. He knew. He always knew.

His fangs teased the skin, teasing and taunting with promises of what would be. His hold on you would tighten as his hand slid to the small of your back, pressing against yours, his cold skin so very far away from the growing heat inside.

“You drive me crazy," he whispered huskily, frustration and longing breaking through in his voice. "I just can't get enough of you."

Then, without a second of hesitation, he plunged his fangs into your neck.

The sharpness of the bite had you gasping, your body taut for that instant the pain hit, but it quickly melted into something else-something much darker, a great deal more pleasurable. You let out a small breathy moan with just the sting of his bite. His fangs drove deeper, drinking from you with a hunger that was endless. His other hand held onto your hip, holding you in place possessively while he drank from you, needing it just as much as you wanted it.

The feeling was overwhelming, the pain evident, but the way his mouth moved across your skin, the way his tongue tasted the blood that spilled was nothing short of intoxicating. It had been some sort of drug, the pain and pleasure melting into one another so fluidly that you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

He leaned back an inch or so, his lips red with your blood, his eyes dark with hunger. He looked at you as if you were his, as if no one else could ever have you, and that possessiveness made your pulse quicken.

“You taste so fucking heavenly,” Satoru said softly, his voice thick with desire as he leaned in to press a blood-stained kiss against your lips. The metallic tang mixed with the taste of him, made you dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by the intimacy of it all. “I could do this forever.”

His hands roamed over your body as he kissed you deeply, the primal hunger in him, gently tugging your bottom lip with his fangs, a silent reminder of the power he had over you. But it wasn't just about power; it was about need, a need that was his obsession.

He leaned in and started kissing down your neck, his lips trailing over the bite mark he had left, licking at the blood still trickling from the wound. It was almost too much, the tenderness of his touch, the soothing of his tongue against the pain. Every moment with him was a contradiction, the danger and the ecstasy, the fear and the love-blurred together.

“You are mine” he whispered, his tone low and possessive, before he nipped at your skin once more, this time softer. “No one else can touch you like this.”

His words, laced with dominance, sent a rush of heat through you. Your hands moved almost on their own, slipping under the fabric of his shirt, tracing the firm muscles of his chest. His skin, cold but electrifying, made you crave more, needing to feel him, to pull him closer. 

Your fingers wandered lower, your touch bolder as you ran them over his abdomen, but before you could go lower, Satoru’s hand caught your wrist. A low hum of laughter escaped his lips as he looked down at you, eyes gleaming with mirth. "Ah," he teased softly, smugness laced within the tone. "A bit eager, aren't you, dove?”

His fingers clutched your wrist firmly, yet didn't hurt you, holding you in place as his eyes stared into yours. "I didn't think you'd be this desperate for me already," he whispered, leaning in so close his breath ghosted your lips. “But then again… You always seem to lose yourself when I bite you.”

Your cheeks flushed, but the desire in his eyes mirrored your own. You couldn’t deny how badly you wanted him, especially when his touch made every nerve in your body ignite. Still, you squirmed under his hold, trying to free your hand, and he loosened his grip just enough to let your fingers slide down his body again, tracing the hard lines of muscle. His body tensed slightly at your touch, but that only fueled your need to feel more of him.

Satoru’s smirk widened as he watched you, his eyes darkened with lust. “Tsk, tsk,” he clicked his tongue, his other hand brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “You’re so impatient, darling.”

His teasing voice made you nervous, but it didn't keep you from reaching for him, trying to close the distance between your bodies. Your hand slipped lower and just as your fingers brushed the waistband of his pants, he was on you again pushing you back against the bed with a playful growl.

"So damn needy," he purred. "Do you want me that badly?" You could see the hunger in his eyes, but he was savouring this, relishing the control he has over you.

His hand slid down your waist, tugging your hips against his. "You’re practically begging for me, " he murmured, his lips against your ear.

“I don’t beg,” you managed to say, your voice breathless and defiant, even as your body betrayed you, arching into him.

He chuckled, clearly amused by your attempt at resistance. “No?” he murmured, his lips trailing down to the curve of your neck again. “Then what do you call this?” His fangs scraped lightly along your skin, enough to catch your breath but not to bite-not yet.

Your hands roamed over his back, desperate to pull him closer, feel every inch of him, but he was going at his own pace, teasing with every touch. He was right, you were practically begging for him, but there was something thrilling in the way he made you wait, made you crave each second of it that much more.

His fingers trailed across your skin, torturously slow in their gentleness, deliberate in every way-a show of control over you. “What do you want, hm? Tell me.”

“You know what I want,” you breathed, your voice coming out shakier than you intended, your hand slipping lower, smoothing over his bulge with bold need.

His eyes flared with a mix of amusement and hunger as you touched him, his jaw tightening. “Oh, I know,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “But I want to hear you say it.”

The playful smirk never left his face as he watched you squirm beneath him, your body aching for the release only he could give. He was enjoying every second of this—holding you just at the edge, making you admit how much you craved him.

You tried to hold back, but the way his hips pressed against yours, the friction he was deliberately denying, made it impossible. “I want you,” you whispered, the admission spilling out before you could stop it, your other hand pulling him in closer. “Please.”

Satoru’s lips curled into a triumphant smile, his eyes gleaming with victory as he finally let go of his teasing restraint. “Good girl,” he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. In one swift movement, he closed the remaining distance between you, his mouth crashing against yours in a searing kiss, full of the passion and hunger he had been holding back in the prior one.

His hands moved quickly now, no longer teasing, as they roamed over your body, sliding beneath your dress to explore every inch of you. His touch was electric, sending sparks through your skin as he claimed you completely, his body pressing into yours with a newfound urgency.

Satoru’s lips left yours, his mouth trailing fire down the side of your neck, marks of his claim already showing. Each kiss he pressed to your flesh was filled with hunger and something darker. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice gruff as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs to spread them apart as he settled between them.

The change in him was palpable. The teasing was gone and in its place, a primal need that you could feel in the way his body moved against yours. His fingers danced over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He worked his way down, his lips followed the trail of his hands as he peppered small kisses down your body, taking his time with each touch as he savoured the moment.

The anticipation was nearly unbearable, your body trembling beneath him, craving more of his touch, more of the way he made you feel like nothing else mattered but him. He chuckled darkly when he felt you press into him again, desperate for the friction that only he could give. “So eager,” he murmured, his voice laced with that same smug amusement, even as his own desire became harder to restrain. “Look at you... already falling apart under me.”

His words sent a shiver through you, but before you could respond, he lowered himself between your legs, his lips hovering just above your panties as he licked a stripe along the fabric, “You want me to take you like this, don’t you?” His fingers traced the outline of your folds through the already damp fabric, teasingly light, enough to make you gasp but not enough to satisfy the growing need inside you. “I can feel how badly you want it.”

You nodded, breathless, barely able to form words as his fingers pressed against you more firmly. “Yes… please, toru,” you whispered, your voice a broken plea, your hips bucking up against him.

He growled low in his throat at the sound of your voice, at the way you begged for him, his eyes darkening with raw desire. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, his voice rough and edged with satisfaction as he tugged the cotton fabric to the side, a finger sliding along your slit, drawing a moan from your lips.

He slid a finger inside you, not  facing much resistance as you were already soaked for him. The pleasure was immediate, your body responding to him as though it had been made for him. You gasped as he quickly added another finger, the two working inside you with deliberate precision. He was relentless in the way he touched you, each movement calculated to drive you higher, to make you fall apart under his control.

“You’re divine,” he whispered against your core, his tongue darting out to follow the path his fingers had taken, working through your folds with an intense hunger. “Every part of you… is mine.”

His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes that had you clutching the sheets beneath you. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of his mouth and his fingers driving you wild, each flick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through your body, leaving you aching for more. He momentarily withdrew his fingers to spread your folds and flatten his tongue along your pussy, not daring to miss a single part.

The noises were obscene as he sucked on your clit eagerly, it was the same desire he felt for the blood that ran through your veins but amplified tenfold.

Satoru groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core as he increased the pace, his fingers slipping back inside, moving in tandem with his tongue, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging at the white strands as you arched against him, your moans growing louder with every passing second.

“Satoru,” you whimpered, his name spilling from your lips in a desperate cry as the pressure inside you built to an unbearable level, your body tightening, trembling under his skilled touch.

He chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to look up at you, his mouth slick with your arousal, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. “Not yet,” he teased, his voice low and full of control as he slowed his movements, keeping you on the brink of release without letting you fall over the edge. “You’ll come when I say.”

The frustration mixed with pleasure made you groan, your hands gripping his shoulders as you tried to pull him closer, needing him to push you over the edge. But Satoru wasn’t ready to let you have that release yet, his hands stilling as he kissed his way back up your body, leaving you teetering on the brink of pleasure.

His fingers slid from inside you, and you could feel the loss immediately, your body aching with the need for more.

Before you could whine in frustration, he tugged his boxers down, freeing his cock, the tip looking desperate to be touched. He pressed his hips against yours, his cock, hard and throbbing, grinding against your soaked core. Your body reacted immediately, hips bucking against him as you sought the friction, but Satoru moved at his own pace, teasing you with every slow, deliberate thrust.

He watched you with dark, hungry eyes as you writhed beneath him, completely at his mercy. "Tell me you love me-" he whispered, his voice quiet as he rocked his hips against yours, barely giving you what you needed. "Say it

“I do” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as you tried to pull him closer, needing more of him, needing him to finally give you what you were craving. “I love you, I swear-”

His smirk returned, and with one swift movement, he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pushed his cock inside you, inch by agonising inch. The feeling of him filling you completely made your back arch off the bed, a moan escaping your lips as he buried himself to the hilt.

His lips crashed against yours in a bruising kiss, his hips stilling inside you as he drank in the sound of your moan, swallowing the noise. His hands gripped your waist with a firm grip that you knew would leave a mark, pulling you closer as though he needed you pressed against him in every possible way. 

The pressure of his body, the way he filled you completely, left you gasping for air, desperate and overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. Just as you began to move, trying to create some friction between your bodies, he growled low in his throat, his hands stilling your hips. He wasn’t done with his control, his game of teasing you to the edge. 

His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, trailing slow, deliberate kisses down the side of your neck. You could feel the heat of his breath on your skin, and the anticipation made your pulse quicken, knowing exactly what was coming.

“You’re never leaving me,” he whispered, the words like a dark promise as his fangs brushed your skin. His hips rocked against you slowly, dragging out the pleasure until you were trembling beneath him, your body a mess of need and desire. “And I want to make sure you know that.”

Before you could even respond, his fangs sank into your neck, sharp and deeper than the first time, the sudden bite sending a shock of both pain and pleasure through your body. You cried out, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, the sensation overwhelming. It was almost too much—the feeling of him inside you, his teeth piercing your skin, his tongue lapping at the blood that spilled from the wound—it all blurred together into one, making you dizzy.

His slow, deliberate pace became more frantic, more primal. He thrust into you with a newfound intensity, each movement driving you further toward the edge as he drank from you.

The pain of the bite faded quickly, replaced by a dizzying pleasure as he sucked at the wound as his hips snapped against yours with a ruthless rhythm, his cock hitting all your sweet spots, the pleasure borderline bruising your insides. Your vision blurred as you felt yourself completely lost in him, lost in the way he claimed you so thoroughly, the way he held you.

You moaned his name, your voice breaking as you felt yourself nearing the edge, your body tightening around him as you clung to him for dear life. Every nerve was on fire, the pleasure of him inside you mixing with the lingering sting of the bite.

Satoru’s growl deepened as he felt your body tighten around him, your moan echoing in the room like a melody only he could hear. His hips moved faster now, the once deliberate rhythm replaced by a primal, uncontrollable need. Each thrust was harder, deeper, his pace relentless as he drove into you with an intensity that left you gasping for breath.

The pain from his bite had long faded, replaced by the heady pleasure that coursed through you with every pulse of his hips, every time his fangs dragged against your skin. His mouth never left your neck, his lips stained red with your blood as he licked and sucked at the wound, drinking from you as though he could never get enough.

Your body was completely overwhelmed by the raw, consuming pleasure that left you trembling beneath him. His name spilled from your lips again and again, a broken, desperate sound that only seemed to fuel his desire. He groaned against your skin, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down your spine, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading your legs further apart as he angled deeper, his cock hitting spots you didn’t even know he could.

"That's it," he purred, his voice rough with hunger as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze wild and dark. His eyes, clouded with lust, locked with yours, and there was something almost feral in the way he smirked. "Let go for me."

You could barely speak, the intensity of his pace robbing you of words, but the way you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, was all the answer he needed. Your body moved instinctively with his, meeting his rough, demanding thrusts as he pushed you closer to the edge, every movement making the knot of pleasure inside you coil tighter and tighter.

"Come on, dove" he urged, his voice low and commanding as he felt you trembling beneath him. His lips found your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to feel you fall apart."

The intensity of his words, the way his hips slammed against yours with a ruthless pace, was too much. The pressure inside you finally snapped, pleasure ripping through you like a storm. Your body arched against him, your nails raking down his back as your release consumed you. His name spilled from your lips in a breathless cry, your entire body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Satoru groaned deeply as he felt you clench around him, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you with even more force, chasing his own release. His thrusts became erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants as he lost himself in the feeling of your body, the sound of your moans, the taste of your blood still lingering on his tongue.

With a final, deep thrust, Satoru buried himself inside you, his release hitting him hard as he groaned your name against your neck. His body shuddered against yours, his fingers digging into your hips as he filled you completely, thick ropes of cum shooting as far as they could, his pace finally slowing as the last waves of pleasure coursed through him.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, your bodies still pressed together as the intensity of the moment lingered between you. Satoru’s lips brushed over the bite mark he had left on your neck, soothing the wound with soft, tender kisses, the possessiveness in his touch still palpable even in the aftermath.

Your body was still buzzing, trembling slightly beneath him, but there was a strange sense of peace in the way he cradled you now, in the aftermath of all the intensity. You couldn’t find words, your mind still reeling from the storm he'd unleashed inside you, but your hands moved instinctively to stroke his back, your touch soft and affectionate, grounding yourself in the feeling of his skin beneath your fingers.

Satoru sighed against your neck, his breath warm and soothing as he finally lifted his head to look at you. His pale blue eyes, clouded with the remnants of desire, held a certain tenderness now—something soft and possessive all at once, like you were a treasure he’d keep forever.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, his thumb brushing over the mark he’d left on your neck, as though to remind you of his words. The intensity hadn’t left him; it was there in his gaze, simmering beneath the surface, but there was a sense of devotion too, that made your heart clench.

You gazed over at him, feeling the weight of his claim, not just in his words but in every touch, every kiss he pressed against your skin. You were his, in a way that no one else ever could be, and somehow that possessiveness, that dark obsession of his, made you feel safe in his arms.

Satoru chuckled softly, leaning up to press a final kiss to your forehead. "I’m never letting you go, you know that?" His voice was low, filled with a promise that made your heart race all over again, despite the exhaustion settling into your bones.

You smiled softly, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his lips stained with your blood. "I wouldn’t want you to."

His smirk widened at your words, that cocky confidence returning to his features as he captured your lips in another kiss. "Good," he murmured against your lips, his voice a low purr as he pulled back to meet your gaze again. "Because you’re mine forever."

As he held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you, you realised that there was no going back. You were bound to him, just as much as he was to you, in this endless cycle of obsession, hunger, and love. And with the way his body curled protectively around yours, you knew he would never let you forget it.

taglist:

@waffless-simp-blog @l0v3m3-p13as3 @hishearttohave @crybabysiri

@jays-adventure3 @nctislifue @eeveedvck @needtoloveoutloud

@sweetpo1son @betelgeuse420 @yuhig-blog @psychedellyc @char-35

© getoslamb ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works

[ki-yomii]

down on you | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, hair pulling, standing missionary, rough sex, porn w/ plot, mafia!jk, detective!reader, established relationship, mild angst, mild violence ➥ summary | It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all. ➥ notes | the mafia!jk au no one asked for aka an excuse to write smut w/ feeling lol.

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On his knees staring down the barrel of a loaded gun with a mouthful of blood, he knows this is the end of the line. He’s going to die like a rat in the gutter - no mercy to be found, loopholes to exploit or bribes to be made.

This is the real deal, and there’s no coming back.

Judgement Day comes in the form of a man with dark eyes and a dangerous smirk: Golden, the deadliest guard dog of the underground.

Credited with dozens of hits, you won’t know he’s there until it’s too late. Trying to keep him pinned is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands, or a whisper on the wind.

And you won’t know he’s coming until you feel the breath on the back of your neck, hear the crack of a bullet ringing in your ears.

Belonging to one of the most powerful men in the world: Kim Namjoon, he’s more war machine than man.

“Go ahead, do it!” He spits at Golden’s feet, a mess of blood and drool staining the crisp leather of his combat boots. “Killing me won’t change a goddamn thing.”

A coy smile tugs at Golden’s mouth, his grin all sharp teeth and violence. He stays where he stands, his silhouette haloed by distant streetlights.

Water laps at the docks, the tang of salt heavy in the mid-summer Seoul air. There’s no rush; they both know he’ll be dead and dumped just like all the rest of the garbage in this rotting city.

“Come on, you prick! Pull the fucking trigger already.”

Golden cocks his head, and hums in the back of his throat. 

“Tch! I hope you’ve got a lot of bullets - we’re gonna knock the crown off Kim’s head one way or another.”

Golden thumbs at the safety of his gun, the barrel glinting through the shadows. “Ahh, is that what you think?” He shrugs, a lazy ripple of muscle. “Well, I have to say: I’d love to see you try.”

The night is shattered by the resounding crack of a gunshot and an echoing splash of something heavy dropping into the water below.

You climb out of the nondescript government-issue car. The faintest tremble of your fingers nearly gives you away but you’re able to reign in the impulse to smooth your hands over your clothes at the last second.

Showing weakness is the last thing you need to be doing right now.

Especially here.

Right in front of where you’ve parked - shoved between two looming apartment complexes - sits a quaint, vintage building. The rough brick face is at odds with the sleek surroundings, but tinted windows keep prying eyes at bay while the classy signing hanging above the door reads The Red Bullet written in caps.

If you didn’t know better, it would be hard to believe this otherwise mundane storefront is a cover for one of the most dangerous international organizations based out of South Korea.

Not only do they hold the keys to the kingdom, but their success is largely in part because they spearhead operations from government espionage all the way to simple blackmail.

Even though it’s been several months since you darkened its doorstep, the familiar sight is enough to steal the breath from your lungs. Send your heart galloping into a tailspin as your stomach swoops.

While time away helped clear your head of stolen kisses and promises whispered in dark rooms, it also drove the longing bone deep.

In those quiet moments to yourself, when you have nothing else to distract from how lonely you are, you miss this place like one misses a limb.

You didn’t realize how attached you were to these four walls until it was too late: the hazy air filled with whorls of smoke, the overhead lights that bathe everything in red, the plush chairs you spent many nights sprawled across, the glossy black stages.

You don’t know how, you don’t know when but at some point it (he) started feeling like home. A luxury you can’t afford. Not again. After all, if you give in, any progress you made outside of his gravitational pull will be for naught.

Which puts you in a dangerous position as you find yourself back where it began; feelings at war with duty, mind vs heart. Because even if it leads you to a place you could go a million years without ever seeing again, you have to follow the trail of bodies.

A bouncer grants you access, the heavy door slamming shut behind you like a death knell as he herds you towards the back of the club.

It’s outside of official operating hours but it’s no less busy inside, men and women alike in scattered conversation as you pass through.

“It’s nice to see you again,” the bouncer murmurs, chancing a quick glance at your profile. “Been a while.”

You swallow, gaze darting down to your shoes. “Ah - yeah… Got busy with work. It’s - it’s nice to see you too.”

The small talk fizzles out, a snuffed candle as you arrive at a cordoned off room, “Here we are. Mr Kim is already expecting you.”

Any further pleasantries grow stale on your tongue as you enter the private booth, fighting against the lump in your throat to manage a hoarse ‘thank you’.

And then you find yourself left alone with the man himself, Kim Namjoon. He’s as intimidating as you remember, lounging back into the leather booth with his ankles crossed.

A lukewarm smile stretches across his lips, the slightest hint of a dimple peeking out from the valley of his cheek. Standing at attention on either side of his reposing form are two massive bodyguards. Their hands rest on the butts of their guns, daring any who enter to try and make a move.

“It’s good to see you again. But I gotta ask - what’s the occasion, Detective?” Namjoon hums. “I thought we were past all this.” He waves a nebulous hand between your bodies. “After all, you’re practically family.”

You ignore the hidden barb with a wince. “Mr Kim, you know why I’m here.”

“I used to know why a long time ago.” A well-groomed brow raises, his gaze glacial as it spears you in place. “But now I’m not so sure.”

“Please, Mr Kim. I don’t want to make this more difficult than it is. I just need to know about the man they fished out of the harbor, and then I’ll be on my way. So… who was he?”

Namjoon scoffs. “What makes you think I know more than the police?”

There’s a flash of a smirk, barely noticed, before his face returns to its neutral expression. As calm and cool as a placid river. “A john’s a john. What I do want to know is why you care so much?”

The underlying question is clear; why are you really here?

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss such matters with civillians.”

“Oh? So I’m a civilian now.” His expression is not unlike the cat that caught the canary: vicious and delighting in the discomfort his evasions are causing. “Gotta say that’s a new one for me.”

Sighing in defeat, you say, “Alright, enough. I get it. I’m wasting my time with you. Let me ask this instead: where is he?” 

“He doesn’t know any more about this than I do,” he says, waving a blase hand towards a door off to the left, “But if you insist, you can find him in the office. Oh, and Detective?”

“...Yes?”

“Take your time, I’ll be out on business all afternoon.”

With a curt nod, you flee the room amid low-throated chuckles and enter the office. Standing near the desk, his broad back turned towards the door, you find the man you simultaneously want to see the most and run from the fastest.

He turns around, the muscles of his back rippling with the movement. Your breath stutters in your chest, and you nearly swallow your tongue as your eyes trace over the cut of his body.

The moment your eyes meet, those many months spent cultivating time and distance turn to ash. You forgot how even the mere sight of him affects you, any resistance to his many charms virtually nonexistent as the world falls away.

Rich, coffee dark; his gaze sucks you in until it’s all you can do not to reach out, to brush your fingers over his edges and feel them soften beneath your palms.

Rocking back on your heels, you clear your throat and glance to the side as you remain standing in the entryway, more than a little off-kilter.

Coming back after so long apart, only to find him the same as the day you left… How do you reconcile everything that’s changed with everything that was?

“Well, hello there.” Jungkook croons, leaning his hip against the corner of the desk with a roll of his shoulders. His arms cross over the trunk of his chest, accentuating the bulk of his chest, the flex of inked bicep. “Long time no see.”

Shifting, you gulp. “Ah - yeah…”

The burn of his gaze - a palpable sensation prickling across your skin - tracks a path from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he gives you a thorough once-over.

“You’re looking good,” Jungkook hums in approval, “real good. I’ve missed those pretty eyes of yours.”

“You - you too.”

Your attention doesn’t know where to settle: drifting from the curve of his shoulders to the jut of his bloody knuckles, the tuck of his trim hips to the thick-soled combat boots.

Tiny hairs at the back of your neck stand on end, and your palms slick with sweat.

“I mean, you look… y’know, uh, good too.”

A flash of a crooked smirk, the raising of a pierced brow gets your blood pumping, your heart tattooing a rhythm against your ribs. Emboldens you to reach back with shaky fingers to turn the lock. The sound grates down your spine, bolts of anticipation slicing through you.

It was dumb to think coming here, seeing him again, would end any other way than his taste on your tongue and his cock in your cunt. Hope makes fools of us all.

Should’ve known better but you’d been hopeful those days were long behind you. Now you realize it was inevitable.

After all, Jungkook is magnetic.

The black hole at the center of your universe, consuming everything in its path until he’s what remains in your head, your heart. You’re helpless, ceaselessly drawn to him like a moth to flame.

And try as you might, you can’t say no to a face like that.

Never could, in fact.

Failure to extract yourself from his orbit during your not-relationship is nothing new. That doesn’t mean you can’t make it difficult.

After all, you still have some dignity intact.

So try, try, try again.

“Ahem.” You try to banish the heat from your cheeks, guiding the conversation into the correct territory. “I’m not here on a-a social call, Jeon. I need to know: were you the one that killed and dumped the john in the harbor?”

Stalking closer, a lazy jungle cat on the prowl, Jungkook crosses the distance between you. He only stops once your bodies brush with every labored inhale. Heat radiates from him, and you’re achingly aware of every point of contact.

The light scent of his cologne teases your nose, and his eyes - god, his eyes. They’re shaded and hungry, devouring your expression with single-minded possessiveness. 

“What makes you think I know anything about that?”

“Jeon -- Jungkook.”

He hums.

Your heart thrums, pulse rushing hard through your head until you feel faint, blood surging the longer you stay in close contact. The shameful clench of your cunt makes your cheeks burn all the brighter.

The last time you were looking up at him like this, his hand was on your jaw while his cock thrust balls deep.

“C’mon, you know that isn’t going to work. This is me you’re talking to, not some rookie.”

“Mm,” he purrs, “it is you I’m talking to, isn’t it?”

You manage to bite back the groan but can’t stop your eyes from rolling even if there’s the slightest hint of a stutter when you reply, “Please, I just need to know if you killed him.”

Jungkook looms tall and proud, crowding closer. “And if I did, baby?” he asks.

Instinctively you back up, only to be followed step by step. A game of cat and mouse that finds you pinned against the wall before long. With nowhere to run, you watch, heart in your throat, as Jungkook dips his dark head.

His nose runs along the length of your neck, breath puffing across your sensitive skin as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.

“I - I…”

“Would you see me in handcuffs?” His lips caress the underside of your jaw, a soft groan escaping him. “… C’mon, answer me. Would you?”

“I would - if I had to.”

As much as you wish that was true, you know in your heart of heart's you would do everything in your power to make sure that never happens.

No matter how much you like to think you’d do the right thing when push comes to shove, you’d choose him a thousand times over.

His eyes dance playfully. “Careful, I might like it.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” you say with a snort.

Jungkook chuckles low and warm, using the arm around your waist to tug you into the safety of his body. The softness of your breasts presses into the hard planes of his chest, your nipples pebbling through the thin cotton shirt you wear.

With a deep-throated groan, his hands encircle the curves of your hips as a thickly muscled thigh slots between yours.

An answering quiet sigh gets his blood pumping and his cock twitching.

“Mm, something tells me you’d enjoy it just as much, Detective.”

The use of your title is a rude awakening.

“Jungkook,” You warn, moving to push him away. Only once you start touching him, you can’t stop. His muscles flex beneath your curious fingertips. “We really shouldn’t.”

You’re sure if he could, Jungkook would spend days worshipping between your thighs, velvet heat wrapped around his tongue and hands in his hair as he brings you to peak again and again until you’re a sobbing, sopping, boneless mess beneath him.

“Come on, I know you want me - that you’ve missed me. I can see it in your eyes.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, tongue flickering out for a brief taste before a rough thumb skates across your bottom lip, tugging down to expose your teeth, the glitter of your tongue as it darts out to flick over the pad of his finger..

“I’ve certainly missed you, baby. Want me to show you?”

Even though you refuse to admit anything out loud, you can’t help but angle your throat back and grind into his hips pressed against yours.

Jungkook tsks, “That’s alright. I’ll get that pretty mouth open one way or another.”

Before you can retort, a mouth swoops down to fuse with yours in a fierce, all-consuming kiss. A low, broken moan punches from your chest.

Reaching up, your fingers sink into the mane of dark hair that brushes the cut of Jungkook’s jaw. Soft, thick, and wavy in your grip; you tug at the roots.

Jungkook hisses. 

Teeth nip at your lip, kittenish licks soothing away the string as blood bursts across your tongues. The thigh shoved between yours grinds up with every wet, sloppy pass of your lips.

Thick muscle spreads your pussy open through the thin slacks of your work uniform. Sparks of pleasure dance down your spine with every rock against your swollen clit.

“S-Shit!” Your shoulders curl in, a shudder jerking through you. “K-Kook, I… !”

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” Jungkook growls, rutting his cock against the jut of your hip. The wet patch you’re making on his jeans grows larger with every filthy grind. “You’ve been gone too fucking long. Never again, you hear me?”

You claw at his shoulders, stuttering out, “there’s noth-ing you can do t’stop me.”

“If you don’t come back to me,” his eyes are dark and stormy, voice whiskey rough, “I’ll find you.”

It’s not a threat - it’s a promise.

“Then make sure I never want to leave,” you challenge breathlessly, staring into his blown out pupils, “Make me want to stay.”

Above all else, you think.

The words are barely past your lips when Jungkook accepts your challenge with gusto (just like you knew he would). Without delay, he thumbs open the button on your pants.

Refusing to let you look away, Jungkook yanks them to your feet and swings you up into his arms one-handed. They hang from your ankle like a chain.

Your surprised squeak is quickly swallowed up by a moan when he settles you over the bulge in his pants, your cunt hovering over his erection.

The heat of his skin sinks through the thin cotton of your panties, so, so close to where you need him. Slick soaks into the fabric, and clings to your inner thighs.

Every shift is a smooth, sticky glide of folds that stirs, and stokes the ember of desire smoldering behind your navel.

“Kook,” you breathe. “Please.”

Your head rolls back, and you sag into his chest. Your hips twitch in pathetic little attempts, trying to get pressure where you need it. Having him hot and hard and all for you; any distance between you is suddenly unbearable.

He needs to spread you wide and stuff you full with every inch of his thick cock until he’s so deep you won’t be able to walk for days.

“Shh baby, I’ll give you what you want,” he says, gaze heavy and possessive. “I’m gonna ruin you so good, you’ll have no choice but to come back. You’re mine.”

“Says who?”

“Hmm. You don’t think you are?”

Nibbling on your ear, Jungkook slips a finger under the hem of your panties. He smirks when you keen, rubbing his knuckle up and down your sloppy folds with teasing pressure.

“How about I show you what your body already knows?”

Wasting no time, he lifts you off his cock, the scrap of cloth fluttering to the ground. His free hand dives between your bodies. Then comes the clink of a belt, the sound of a zipper pulling down.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, your body coiled with anticipation as your stomach swoops at the brush of his fingers along the underside of your thigh.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” Jungkook twists his wrist, hips arching back. “And it’s all for me. Fuck, I can’t wait to get inside this pretty pussy.”

Any response dies on your tongue, brain short-circuiting as the slick, fat cockhead rubs along your slit. Pressing against your entrance the slightest bit before slipping up to nudge at your clit - coating himself up in your sticky juices.

The ultimate tease - something Jungkook’s always been overly fond of doing until you’re out of your mind with desperation.

“Please, please, please,” you chant, cheeks on fire and eyes half-lidded as you circle your hips. “Stop playing around. I want it - want you, Kook.”

“Oh, baby,” he smiles, ducking down to kiss your forehead. “You’ll take whatever I give you.”

You can’t stifle the broken sob, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Liquid fire surges through your veins, a thousand bolts of lightening crackling beneath the surface of your skin. Your pussy is tender, swollen. Walls fluttering in time with your heartbeat. 

“Ha, you’re so needy for me.”

Jungkook’s lips brush away the moisture around your eyes, his thumb drawing soothing circles into the base of your spine. All the while, his torturous grinding never ceases.

“Aren’t you?”

You croak, “I can’t – Kook, please. Anything, I’ll do anything you want just fuck me.”

The flash of his eyes is your only warning before he’s right there, your walls embracing the girth of his erection inch by inch. Every ridge, every jerk as he seats himself as deep inside your silken heat as he can is absolute heaven.

The stretch as you take him to the hilt sends you careening towards the edge, eyes rolling back and toes curling in your shoes.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” you whimper.

“Shit!” Jungkook grits his teeth, squeezing the base of his cock as you tighten  around him. With every deep inhale, his pelvis brushes your swollen, needy clit. “Forgot how good you feel wrapped around my dick, baby.”

“Me too,” You gasp, tightening your legs around Jungkook’s hips.”Me too, Kook.”

Dropping his forehead to yours, he says gruffly, “‘m not gonna last long.”

Making a noise of acknowledgement, you wiggle your hips. Sinking your teeth into the side of Jungkook’s jaw, you bite and suck at his skin, wanting to leave a mark to remember you by. His reaction is instantaneous, releasing the grip on his shaft to grab a fist full of hair.

He yanks back.

The long, elegant line of your throat is exposed to his butterfly kisses and scolding love bites.

“Now you’ve really asked for it,” Jungkook huffs out with a dirty chuckle.

“Then give it to me.” You lick your puffy lips, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. “Show me who I belong to.”  

The brewing hurricane in his eyes is unleashed. Wide palms and strong fingers grip your hips so tight you feel bones grind together. His stance widens, his unwavering gaze locking onto your face, brow pinched, and mouth slack.

His lip piercing glints in the light, his tongue sliding out to wet his bottom lip. Dark curls tussle about his head, a wild halo that sweeps down into the burning umber of his eyes.

Helpless, you succumb - enchanted by the darkness peering at you from behind those dangerous eyes. He’s ethereal; a siren song that threatens to drown you, swallow you whole.

You’d happily let him, you realize with a shiver.

It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all.

“Hold on tight,” Jungkook says, hooking his hands under your bottom. 

And then, he’s jackhammering into your cunt so hard and fast all you can do is hold on for the ride. Punch drunk and moaning as he manhandles you how he likes, spreads you wide and stuffs you full until you’re panting for breath and clinging to sanity by your fingernails.

“Fuck yes, that’s it. Look how well your pretty pussy always takes my fat cock.”

His low voice whispering filthy praises in your ear makes you whimper, whine, and writhe as the band of pleasure coiling tight in your belly comes close to snapping. It’s the fastest he’s ever fucked an orgasm out of you, and it feels so good you don’t even care.

The pace is brutal, slamming into you so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips come morning. But it’ll be so fucking worth it. You’re going to cum hard and long, you just know it.

About to melt as Jungkook fucks the slick out of you, groaning as you drip down the base of his cock, his balls - his very own pretty little mess.

“Yeah, you gonna cum, baby?” he laughs, pressing a sweaty kiss to the side of your face. “Can feel how - haaah shit - how tight you’re squeezing me.”

“Uh-huh,” you cry, holding onto the tops of his wide shoulders. Every thrust has his cockhead dragging over the spongy patch of your g-spot, sending fissions of pleasure rocketing through your nervous system. “So - so close, baby. Just a little more, I--”

Balancing yourself, you lift up only to slam back down, meeting Jungkook’s thrust with all the force of gravity. “Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

Crashing over you like a tsunami, your orgasm shoots through your limbs and zips down your spine. A warm rush of cum soaks Jungkook’s shaft, the wet and messy sound of your squirt splashing against the floor secondary to the cry that claws its way out of your throat.

“K-Kook!”

Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he helps you keep bouncing up and down on his erection. “Yeah, that’s it - keep going, baby. Wanna feel you keep cumming all over this cock.”

Aftershocks slice through you like lightning, tiny jolts of electricity. As you come down from your high, your gummy walls pulse, milking at Jungkook’s thick shaft.

He groans softly whenever your muscles tense, release; your body a worn-out rubber band as your breath stutters from you.

Then a hand pets down your flank, your skin shivering with hypersensitivity at the tender touch. “S’okay. Just breathe, baby.”

Peeling open your heavy eyes, you look up at his face. Take in the crinkle of his brow and the ravenous expression. Even floating on a sea of bliss, white noise fills your ears, you want more.

You slur, determined, “Kook, baby, please. Cum in me, want you s’bad.”

“Fuck! Can’t just say shit like that to me or I…” Jungkook bites down onto the tender crook of your neck, muffling his grunts in your flesh. “Shit - ’m so --”

You cry out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders, “A-haah, K-Kook!”

Snapping his hips forward one last time, Jungkook grinds as deep as he can get and lets go. The fat head of his cock kisses your cervix, his length throbbing in time with his heartbeat as a rush of cum floods your insides.

“Yeah, just like that,” he grunts, rutting once - twice into the cradle of your body, “take it like a good girl.”

He croons when you whine at the press of his pelvis against your oversensitive clit. Thready sparks of pain shoot down your legs that hang limply over his forearms. Every breath stutters from your lungs, slow and deep.

“No more, can’t - can’t…” Shifting, you arch your spine and burrow your head into his chest, nearly catatonic in his arms. “S’too much.”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Fingers brush over your closed eyelids, smoothing over the arch of your brow. With every kiss dropped to the top of your head, he mumbles in dulcet tones, “I really have missed you, you know.”

You mewl in response as strong fingers knead the backs of your thighs.

“You’re not allowed to go anywhere.”

“Oh,” you can’t muster up enough energy to say anything more, body tender and trembling with little aftershocks, “s’that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.��� He chuckles. “You’re staying here - right where I want you.”

In lieu of a response, you pick your head up off the pillow of his chest and seek out his gaze. Liquid soft; he’s looking at you like you hung the world on a string.

“I’ve missed you too, Kook,” you say with a gentle smile.

You’ll allow yourself this moment of weakness when there’s no space between your bodies or hearts. Titles don’t matter much when he’s cradling you to his chest like a piece of precious china.

Between the two of us, you’re the one who hung the moon and stars, you think while combing back his sweaty bangs.

And I think I love you, you whisper voiceless against his lips.

[berryz-writes]

You're mine, sweetheart

Summary: Theo cheers you up after a shit day

Theodore Nott x reader

Pansy looked me up and down, hate simmering in her eyes. She scoffed "Don't tell me that's what your wearing. You look like an absolute slag"

After being best friends with her for our first few years and realising how toxic she really was I had tried to keep my distance from her but she didn't get the hint and instead liked to comment on each and every thing I did. Of course the comments hurt me but maybe after the years they just didn't hurt as much. Maybe I was immune now. The dress I had chosen for this nights party was a short green dress, something to celebrate our Quidditch win but of course the dress didn't live up to her expectations. What was really annoying was she wore a similar dress just a few weeks back but according to her I was the one who looked like a slag.

"I think it looks nice Pansy"

I turned to my mirror and applied a light pink lip gloss that was almost finished because of the amount of times I had used it. I couldn't be bothered arguing with her tonight. I wasn't about to let her ruin my mood.

"I bet you tried finding the shortest dress in that store"

I rolled my eyes "What are you on about?" I was getting tired of her stupid, annoying comments.

"You know exactly what I'm on about. Don't think Theo's gonna fuck you after this, honey. Your just like all the other desperate bitches at the party"

I gritted my teeth together and put my lip gloss down trying to appear as unaffected as I could. "Fuck off. Jealousy isn't a good look on you"

I walked past her, tears forming in my eyes. Before I could leave she made sure to mutter "Once a whore, always a whore". I let my feet carry me outside to the warm summer evening where the sun was setting. I walked around the lake trying to blink away the tears so my makeup wouldn't be ruined. Was there any point of going to the party? No, probably not.

I sat down on hill, the freshly mowed grass making a soft carpet for me to relax on. Me and Theo had sat hear many times before whether it was to have a late night snack or to miss lessons. It was a comforting place.

I sat there until the sun set and soon it got darker. Almost too dark. My thoughts had cleared now. My tears no longer trying to make an appearance. Maybe I could join the party. Just because one person was being an ass didn't mean everyone else would be.

As I was contemplating on whether I should stand up or not someone cleared their throat behind me. I raised my wand instantly expecting...well something scary I guess.

It was in fact Theo holding a small golden lantern. I didn't bother standing up and instead waited for him to flop down next to me.

"My favourite person isn't going to congratulate me on my performance today?" He placed the lantern between us so we were both bathed in a warm orange light. I could just about make him out, his features looking almost worried.

"You were good." I said. I didn't have the social battery to talk to him right now even if he had done nothing wrong.

He smiled at me "I know. What's up with you? Your usually dragging me to parties but instead your...well from my point of view it looks like your mourning your rabbit"

I let out a small laugh. Even at times like these he could make me laugh. "I just don't understand. Why is it so hard for some people to be nice?"

Theo shrugged "They're probably insecure. Or jealous."

"Yeah. Probably"

We sat in silence for another few minutes before Theo stood up stretching out his hand to me "Come on, sweetheart. Your the life of the party. It's no fun without you"

I stood up and handed him the lantern instead "You can be the life of the party tonight. I'm tired"

"Don't let someone ruin what you want to do. Y/n you love parties. You've never missed one. Unless you really are tired, I'll respect your decision and walk with you to your room"

I contemplated my options. I could do what I really wanted to do which was go to the party and enjoy life with my friends or I could get cosy in my bed and feel like a coward for the next week. He was right. No one got to influence what I wanted to do.

"Your playing truth or drink with me then"

He grinned at me "Whatever you want, sweetheart"

As we walked back inside the castle from a more hidden entrance Theo made sure to hold my hand because apparently he "didn't want me to trip and get hurt". Whatever the reason was it didn't stop butterflies from forming in my stomach.

I had to blink at the sudden brightness of the corridors, the light finally letting me see Theo clearly. He had dropped my hand and instead was surveying me.

Theo's eyes took their time on inspecting my outfit, hungrily devouring the way the dress emphasised my curves. He finally brought his gaze up to look at me, his eyes slightly darker than usual "You look absolutely divine"

I smiled at the compliment "If you weren't my best friend, I'd say you were flirting with me"

He raised an eyebrow "Maybe I am. It's quite hard not to when my best friend is so fucking gorgeous" My cheeks heated at his words, my dress feeling a little too tight all of a sudden. I think I needed to sit down after that.

He extended his arm so I could wrap my hand around it. "I can't wait to tell everyone we're dating"

I paused. What did he say? "If that's ok with you" He added hastily.

I thought about what he said. Had I always imagined what it would be like if Theo asked me out and we weren't just best friends anymore? Of course I did. Every single second of every single day.

"That's fine with me"

He smiled again, a small dimple appearing in his left cheek "Then it's settled. Your mine, sweetheart. And I'm yours" 

[xoamiiren]

SPOILED, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 as expected, you came back

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, as toxic as it may be, Ni-ki has you wrapped around his finger… and you like it. PAIRING. Toxic Rockstar!Ni-ki x Supermodel!Reader GENRE. Suggestive, comedy, fluff (?) WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, toxic relationship, cheating

ren note ୨୧ I actually enjoyed writing this one.

─────────

The morning light spilled through Ni-ki’s floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow.

You lay still, wrapped in tangled sheets, the quiet hum of the city below contrasting the chaotic thoughts in your head. The mattress on the floor gave the place a raw, unfinished feel, much like your relationship with him — if you could even call it that.

Ni-ki was too cocky for his own good. You were no better for stroking his ego. He could say the same thing about you. He liked your attitude, your snap, the way you could flick of paparazzi with no care in the world, the way your smoky eyes pierced the cameras with every runway you stepped onto.

You liked the rush. How unpredictable his behavior could be. The way he found your eyes in the crowed at every concert he had, the way he’d lick his lips as he held your gaze, his fingers still effortlessly working his guitar knowing you wished it were you. The curious pit in your stomach whenever you were escorted backstage without him texting you first…

You’d kiss, rushed and rough, bruising each other and leaving marks for later days to come… only where no one could see of course. Then you’d fight, and you’d go back to your boyfriend leaving Ni-ki wanting more, and also knowing you’d be back to give it to him.

You knew Ni-ki had cut off every other female in the game for you, going from his usual routine of bringing home the hottest idols and actresses for the night, to now blowing up your phone when his jeans got too tight.

Call it magic.

You never asked him to do that though, so you handled him accordingly… like a fan. That was until you quickly realized you wanted him too… so bad.

Leaving you where you are now.

With a sigh, you shifted, your gaze drawn to the skyline. It was moments like this that made everything feel so surreal.

Ni-ki stirred beside you, groaning softly as he rolled over. You glanced at him briefly — his dark bangs fell over his eyes, lips pouting, the edges of his face still carrying the softness of sleep. He looked unfairly pretty in the morning, the kind of pretty that made it hard to think straight.

Before you could get lost in those thoughts, he moved closer, the warmth of his body immediately enveloping yours. You felt his lips press gently to your back, the soft trail of kisses making your skin tingle. He traced the lines of the moon phases that ran down your spine, and you shivered at the intimacy of it.

“Ni-ki,” you whispered, voice heavy with reluctance. “I really need to go soon.”

“Don’t…” His breath was hot against your skin. “Stay here.”

You closed your eyes, heart battling your mind.

“I wish I could. But we had an agreement, Ki. And Jake—”

Ni-ki cut you off, his lips brushing against your shoulder where a cluster of inked flowers lay.

“I don’t give a damn about your boyfriend,” he muttered, voice low and dark. “He can have you when I’m done.”

A weight settled in your chest as you let your head fall forward. You could already feel him pulling you under again, his body pressing you down, the heat between you two simmering, all-consuming. It was too much.

Toxic. You knew that...

You opened your mouth to protest, your boyfriend’s name barely leaving your lips again until he groaned, rolling off of you and burying his face under a pillow, frustration seeping from him.

“Fuck, (Y/n)… aren’t you bored yet?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, your voice sharper than you intended.

“I never said I was leaving him. You know that…”

Ni-ki sat up, running a hand through his hair, messy bangs falling back into his eyes.

“Alright… fine, I’ll leave you two alone.” His tone was mocking, careless.

You hated how easily he could get under your skin.

As you pulled the sheets tighter around yourself, standing to gather your clothes, he stood too, slipping into his gray sweats.

“Stop it! You always do this, Ni-ki,” you said, frustration boiling over. “Stop acting like you think I’ll choose you—”

He cut you off, wandering the room as his eyes gleamed with that familiar defiance.

“Oh, shut up. Look around, baby. You’re in my apartment, not his.”

The truth stung. You frowned, tugging his oversized shirt over your bare skin, trying to shield yourself from the cold and the reality of his words. You hurried to collect your things, your voice laced with anger.

“You’re such an asshole.”

He smirked, leaning casually against the doorway, watching you with those piercing eyes that always saw through you.

“That’s my shirt.”

“Shut up!” You snapped, pulling on your shorts with an exasperated huff.

The tension in the air was palpable, but as you stormed toward the door, he followed, that smirk never leaving his lips.

“I’ll walk you to the car,” he teased, trailing after you.

You stopped in your tracks, whirling around to glare at him, flipping him off. “No. Fuck off, jerk.”

But before you could reach for the doorknob, Ni-ki caught you, pulling you into a back hug, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

His voice, still rough from sleep, whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll see you this weekend?”

You squirmed, trying to resist the pull he had on you, but your body betrayed you, knees weak under his hold.

“Whatever…” you muttered, already defeated.

Ni-ki grinned against your hair, finally letting you go, the victory clear in his eyes as he watched you leave.

And as you stepped out into the cool morning air, the weight of your choices pressing down on you, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep letting him pull you back in.

Nishimura Ri-ki was too spoiled for his own good.

[allwaswell16]

Happy Fan Fic Writer Appreciation Day 2024!

The first lines of some amazing fics by some of my favorite 1D writers! Since I've done this post for so many years, this year I limited it to fics that were published in the last year or so. Please check out the past years' lists here where you'll find even more incredible writers! Thank you to every writer in our fandom for your gifts of fic to us all!

Louis hung up his keys and coat as his cottage door closed to protect himself from the drizzle.

He’d only given in because he was lonely.

The sun sat low in the sky, bathing the expanse of beach in warm, golden light. 

Louis looked around the room, waiting for the others to laugh and let him know that the last ten minutes had all been an elaborate joke and of course they weren’t serious. 

Harry’s thighs burn.

Harry Styles was a star.

Harry Styles has standards. 

The man in the video was annoyingly chipper in the face of what seemed to Louis to be imminent disaster. 

The first time it happens isn’t even intentional.

Louis Tomlinson strived for perfection in everything he did.

Liam Payne doesn’t know how he got here. 

Standing in front of the second-hand mirror hanging on his closet door, Harry looks himself over. 

If she was being honest, the last thing Harry wanted to do at the moment was get ready to go out.

It had been a good idea when he’d agreed to it.

Louis tilted his head up and took in a deep breath.

Bosworth Academy for the Well-Bred Omega sits upon a hill overlooking the quaint town of Kinsey in county Durwin.

Stumbling through the door, Liam dragged the sweat soaked vest over Zayn's head, pushing him back against the wall.

It’s December first.

He gets sent home.

Life wasn’t supposed to be like this.

All Louis’ life, he’s known he’s been different.

Liam is in the middle of fucking nowhere, the two-lane highway stretching ahead and behind him, as far as the eye can see. 

When Harry first tells him, Zayn isn’t sure what to think.

Spending his Saturday night with an older man who was not his father was never what Harry Styles pictured his mid-twenties to look like.

Louis rolls over on his back, sighing in frustration as he fumbles for his phone on the nightstand.

“Wait! Please don’t go!” 

Waking up from rut is a bleary, confusing experience. 

He knew scrolling through his phone so soon would only end in disaster, and yet he opened Instagram anyway.

There’s music echoing throughout the rink, an instrumental Disney song.

The telly is on when Louis comes home, keys jangling in the lock as he swings the door open and kicks off his shoes into the haphazard pile by the mat. 

“So, what did you have in mind?”

Two essential tips for anyone planning to take a nighttime stroll: don't forget to bring a heavier jacket, and make sure your phone is fully charged.

The large fluorescent lights groan awake high on the ceiling overhead as Harry flips on the light switch.

“You heading home, mate?” Liam asked as the movie ended.

Louis curls his hands around the balcony railing, tilting his head up to let the slanted rays of the evening sun catch on his face.

When Harry opened Niall's door, a combination of warm air and cologne greeted him.

“Harry? Are you home, love?”

It was the first day back after Winter Break, and Louis did not want to be here.

Louis has been single for 369 days, and the last place he wants to be is at a wedding.

Louis had always known Harry was his soulmate.

Even before Louis presented as an omega, he’d dreamed of one day finding his soulmate.

Authors in order of first lines:

@nouies @jaerie @disgruntledkittenface @2tiedships2 @haztobegood

@lululawrence @daggerandrose @homosociallyyours @alwaysxlarrie @thelavendrhaze

@fallinglikethis @kingsofeverything @becomeawendybird @reminiscingintherain @louandhazaf

@thedevilinmybrain @laynefaire @londonfoginacup @ladyaj-13 @jacaranda-bloom

@voulezloux @phdmama @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed @parmahamlarrie @crinkle-eyed-boo

@uhoh-but-yeah-alright @absoloutenonsense @all-these-larrythings @beelou @justanothershadeofblue

@galacticlarry @persephoneflouwers @letthemusicmoveyou28 @enchantedlandcoffee @shimmeringevil

@imogenleewriter @lunarheslwt @red-pandaaa @loveislarryislove @hellolovers13

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the sun

Previous part / Next chapter

a/n: the follow up chapter AND This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨ We have Az pov in this😌

warning: mention of labor, past trauma that's all. I think...

They are of age in this story. Young adults!

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Nyx's POV:

The side lake cabin was where Nyx had taken her. He wasn't sure why that place was the first thing that came to his mind. But it was the furthest place from Velaris and something deep within Nyx screamed that they had to get away. Wrong choices you are making, my boy. Nyx tightened the muscles in his jaw. It was an odd feeling. Having her here was both a relief and a worry.

Zofie was, as Nyx had come to learn, pretty out of it. Most of the time, when her power flared up, she would be left drained and emotionless. Just starting at something ahead of her, till her mind regained enough strength. Nyx still remembered when Rhys brought both her and Axel from the sanctuary. She whined from the pain her body had been in. When Madja and everyone else had left, Nyx had reached up to take her hand. His veins had turned inky black as an overwhelming wave of emotions crashed into him. He had pulled away at first, worried that he had done something wrong, but the frown on Zofie's forehand had eased. It had taken him one look at his palm to know. So he sat there for hours, holding her hand, till his bones ached. Till the light pink sheen returned to her skin.

Nyx had taken her straight to the bathing chamber. With one flick of his wrist, the hot water was pouring out of the installations on the wall. He shrugged his jacket off, not too keen on getting the leather wet. But... Nyx, you're walking on eggshells. But you felt like a cube of ice in his hands. He had tried to keep a conversation going as he flew, but she didn't respond, not even once. So he let her listen to the sound of the wind without any distractions. Now he pushed Zofie backwards carefully. Hands holding her forearms to steady her. The warm water crashed over her. Soaking her hair and body. She let out a deep breath. As if coming up for air. Her hands clasped his biceps. "Nyx," she breathed out, and fuck if it wasn't the prettiest sound. He hated when others called out for him. But not her. He could listen to... Nyx! He carefully brushed some of her black hair away from her face, tilting her head up so he could see her eyes. She blinked up. The black still rimmed the very edges of her golden eyes. "I'm here, Sunny; I've got you," he muttered, bringing her closer to his chest. Zofie's arms snaked around his torso as warm water crashed over them both. Their clothes stuck to their skin. Nyx's shirt cringed to his toned body, leaving very little to the imagination as the white material got translucent. His hands made quick work of Zofie's skirt. Her soaked skirt had to be heavy. So his hands made quick work of the buttons and string before the material hit the floor with a thud. Nyx, for fuck sake... His eyes didn't linger. Well, they did. But only for a moment as her toned legs came into view. Self-induced torture—that's what this was. But he pushed all of his thoughts aside. Letting the water drown it out too.

Neither of them had an idea of how long they stayed there. The room was fogged up and so humid that water was trickling down the walls. Their fingers had grown pruney, and Nyx managed to shift in the meantime, with no wings on display now. Zofie blinked a couple of times, pulling her face back from Nyx's chest. Her findings trailed down his side. Side. She could see the ink covering his ribs. Ink she hasn't seen before... And then the most beautiful golden eyes finally met Nyx's purple ones. "When did you get this?" Zofie's dainty fingers touched the damp material, right where you could just about make out the new tattoo. "Are you checking me out, Zof?" , Nyx teased as his eyes too fell on the new addition. Zofie let out a huff, "I'm not, but..." her eyes didn't leave the somewhat flower-resembling line work. "You used to tell me about things like this." And he did. They talked a lot when they could.

It of course changed a lot when he had to go to the camp so they could train, but... How was he meant to say that he was miserable the second time they had to go back? He was so fed up, and all he could think of was her and Axel had laughed at him and...

"We stole a couple of bottles of wine in the camp and woke up with these," Nyx admitted. Zofie's eyes grew big. "We... Axel and you?", she questioned. Nyx's lips curled upward. Zofie didn't need to hear him say it; she knew that she was right as it was, "Mom would freak out if she knew." Her voice was low as she shook her head. "Hence why you won't say a word," Nyx booed her nose, making Zofie pull back slightly with a scowl. "Are you okay to step out?", Nyx asked softly, his hands still holding her. He watched as Zofie slowly realized where they were. Water. Steam. Her frozen body feels limber. So she simply nodded her head.

They separated to change, but not before Nyx pulled out some of his clothes for Zofie to wear. "We can go back", her soft voice filled the main room of the cabin. This had to be the smallest house his parents owned. All it had was a rather big bathing chamber. A tiny kitchen and the rest of the place was occupied by the bed and huge windows. Nyx said nothing at first as he tossed some more wood into the fire.

"We're not going", his voice was calm and collected. Zofie crossed her arms over her chest and said, "I need to go home. Papa will be mad, and my mom just gave birth; it's not...", she rambled on, clearly getting frustrated by the situation now that her emotions had settled.

"Then why were you by the bank?", Nyx cut in quickly, making the girl in front of him stutter. Her eyes grew wide for a split second before she narrowed them down, "I could ask you the same thing." Here she was. His little flicker. Nyx smirked slightly, "Don't argue with me, darling." Pushing Zofie's buttons was one of his favorite things to do, ever since he learned that he could rile her up enough to make her cheeks heat with crimson he had used it to his advantage. She huffed at the nickname she hated. "Or what? You'll stomp your foot, and your dad will come running," she snarled. That line of frustration took over, but her soft heart was too gentle for this, so the moment the words left her mouth, her palm came up to cover her mouth.

"I'm sorry," Zofie muttered through her fingers. She knew that there were times when the princeling hated his relationship with Rhys. The court. The high lordship had put endless pressure on him while he was left to smile at it all. "My dad has been barking in my head every since I got you here," Nyx admitted as he walked closer to her, "But I ain't bringing you to anyone until you tell me what happened." His tone was soft. It was always soft when he was talking to Zofie. The girl let out a sigh. A deep one. A painful one and Nyx couldn't help but frown.

"Hey, you and I, remember?" The line had been a joke when they were little. The two had plotted to steal the rest of Nyx's birthday cake. It was a ride-or-die kind of deal. But the line stuck. And ever since, it has been Zofie and Nyx. She nodded at his words. But her mother stayed silent - still too exhausted to talk it out.

"Come on, lay down with me," Nyx muttered. He sounded desperate. Zofie shook her head immediately, "We can't. We shouldn't." Nyx knew that she mostly feared his scent mixing with hers. Their parents had lived long enough to catch them if they weren't careful. "Why not, as if I'm going to undress you and kiss you all over?", Nyx muttered with a smirk. Zofie let out a gasp, hitting his chest. "Nyx," she muttered with a chuckle. "I made sure my dad heard that too", he whispered, and Zofie huffed in return. She knew that the high lord's family had mind-to-mind communication. "Nyx, for the love of mother, what sick joy do you have of pissing your uncle off?" She was well aware that both Azriel and Nyx had been snarling at one another for as long as she could remember. But in the past couple of years, it has grown increasingly worse. "Someone needs to keep him on his toes. Uncle Cass and da-Rhys had gone too soft," Nyx shrugged his shoulders as he tugged at Zofie's hand, pulling her closer to the massive bed.

"Come on, I don't bite," he said, urging her to follow him. "I can smell your magic on you," Nyx muttered as she climbed in next to him. She had always been a massive cuddle bug. He had always hated it. His mom had smothered him without stopping. Rhys was no better. The older he got, the more suffocating it became. "Is that bad?", Zofie asked, pushing her long black hair over one shoulder. Nyx loved her hair—not just her hair, but...Nyx, composure tactics?

"You're stressed and sad, so you smell like a rotten grape," he breathed out jokingly. Zofie gaped at him. "Oh, fuck you," she huffed, turning to get out of the bed she had only settled in, but Nyx caught her hand with ease. "I'm kidding, Sunny", he breathed out with a chuckle, she didn't fight him on it. "You're so childish...", "I thought you liked your boys wild," Nyx winked at her, making Zofie shake her head.

"Can you at least let your dad know that we are okay so my mom doesn't have to worry?" His lover girl, aways think of others. Nyx tugged her one more time, enough this time for her to settle against his chest. "Believe me, he knows." Nyx was rather surprised as to why Rhys hadn't shown up. It would take him no effort to winnow here. His wards were triggered when Nyx entered the cabin, so the high lord wouldn't even have to spend time wondering where they went.

"When are you going back?", Nyx drew his attention back to the girl when her voice filled the quiet space. He also knew what she meant. Back to the camp. If not for YN going into labor, they wouldn't have been back at all. They still had a week there before the break. "Not sure; family emergencies can earn you a couple of days," he breathed out. The weight of Zofie against his chest felt so soothing. She nodded against his chest. Her eyes were no longer open. Her body slowly eased, and once her last bits of self-restraint began to fade, Nyx felt that overwhelming pinch, and the emotions that slipped past her shields poured right into him. Nyx closed his own eyes, letting the sensation ease. "That will do," Zofie muttered, her hand moving to lay on his side, right over the tattoo she had discovered today. "It'll have to, sunshine. We will have to make it count," Nyx muttered, leaning to press a loving kiss to her forehead before the two drifted off to sleep.

Azriel's POV:

He had been on edge for a while. You had been laboring for the past two days before the baby was finally here. No one had prepared Azriel for the fear that would be eating him alive while he watched you labor. You were a fighter. Always had been, but even you couldn't hide the agony. The white, cotton-like snow fell heavily on the grass outside. Such a calm season for such madness to be unfolding. Never had he thought that he would have a winter baby.

Azriel felt so fulfilled as he held Novie in his arms. A father. He felt so blessed to be in a position where you two could conceive. You both knew your chances of getting pregnant were higher based on the fact that you both had Illyrian blood running through your bodies. At least partly. Hence practically no trouble doing so, and well, the practice weeks, as Azriel loved to call them, hadn't stretched all that far.

Now she was here, and she was perfect. Another perfect girl. Her tiny, black-feathered wings were tucked against her back. She was a perfect mix of you both. Azriel had held her for hours before he made his way downstairs. With you asleep and the baby in Axel's arms, he needed a moment to breathe and eat, considering that he hadn't swallowed a single bite in quite a while. That's when he found his mother with troubled eyes. Cassian was standing there too. The protector within the spymaster stirred. And all hell broke loose when Cassian finally spoke.

"Rhys, I swear to fucking holy mother," Azriel had winnowed straight to the river house. "Pour yourself some scotch," Rhys pushed the glass bottle toward his brother. He would celebrate the birth of his daughter if his first daughter wasn't missing. "Fuck yourself with your scotch," Azriel growled, leaning forward. Rhys held his gaze before bursting into fits of giggles, "Well, aren't you a walking ray of sunshine?"

Azriel growled. He wondered how he would cover up the murder of the high lord if he had to and who would side with him when his last straw would break. "Tell him to bring her back," Azriel pointed a warning finger at Rhys. His nephew had gone too far. Way too far. It was one thing to bump into Zofie. Another thing was to kidnap her. Well, he hadn't kidnapped her exactly, but it was close to it. Semantics.

"Azriel," Rhys breathed out. "They are safe," the high lord said reassuringly. "She's safest with me," Azriel bit back, feeling the anger simmer. Zofie had never done something like this. Hasn't just taken off running. What if she couldn't control her powers? What if something bad had happened? And what had happened to make her do something like this?

"Well, considering that she ran away," like a bull's eye, Rhy's words hit the target. "Don't you give me shit for it," Azriel growled every word in a warning, his wings spreading behind him, and Rhys instantly stood to match him. God, if you were here, you would call them fucking peacocks.

"Yn is asleep; she won't know that Zofie isn't spending a night in the house," Rhys said firmly. And fucking thankfully, you were asleep because there was no way Azriel was going to let you worry about this. This had to be fixed. Fixed before you felt that something seemed off.

"Rhys," Azriel pleaded this time. "Azriel, Nyx will never do anything to hurt her, and you know it," Rhys said in his deep, high-lord tone. No more games; he was just as pissed. "They are too young," Azriel muttered. Yes, they were almost certain the two of them were mates. Rhys had said that he saw the bond flicker a couple of times. But they were too young. This was moving too fast. Zofie had just had her first bleed. No way was Azriel letting that boy toy snatch her off like that. And who even knew if he was serious enough about her?

"They are young, yes, but they are both of age to start exploring," Rhys muttered, "Or are you planning on keeping that poor girl in a cage?" The room died down in a heartbeat. Azriel could see that Rhys regretted the last words as soon as they left his mouth. That topic was always gonna be painful for him. The way you were raised. The way you were hurt was always gonna be painful him. And to know that Rhys. Rhys of all people was referring to him in that way. Suggesting that Azriel was off doing the same thing... "Azriel, I'm", but before Rhys could even start to apologize, Azriel was gone.

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Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi if you asked to be tagged and I forgot do let me know. ✨🤍

[iheartnerdz]

💬 About Last Night (Miguel O’Hara x f!reader)

Summary: You and Miguel seemed to had a fun night last night, you storm out, and avoid him at all costs. However, you can’t find your phone, but you can’t face him yet; so you sneak back to his dorm hoping he’s not there to get your phone back

Content warning: 18+ and mentions of sex

A/N: First fanfic! I hope you guys enjoy ♡

Next chapter

— Chapter 1

Sunlight filtered through unfamiliar curtains, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow. You stirred, blinking against the light, a dull ache in your head reminding you of last night's festivities. Groaning, you rolled over, expecting to feel the familiar embrace of your dorm bed, only to find yourself in a much less familiar bed.

Panic began to set in as you took in your surroundings: a neat, minimalistic room with posters of various scientific formulas and bands pinned to the walls, and faint smell of expensive cologne. This was definitely not your dorm room. You tried to recall how you got here, but the details of last night were fuzzy.

A deep voice broke the silence, causing you to jump. "Morning, sunshine." You turned to see Miguel O'Hara, one of the star students in the biochemistry program, leaning casually against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips. "You were great last night."

Your eyes widened in horror as his words sank in. Great last night? What did that mean? Before you could process further, a scream erupted from your throat. The scream seemed to echo in the room, and you scrambled out of bed, your limbs tangling in the sheets.

Grabbing your shoes from the floor, you bolted past him, muttering incoherent words. You raced down the hall of the dorm building, your heart pounding in your chest, cheeks burning with embarrassment. The few students who were awake at this hour gave you curious glances as you darted past, but you paid them no mind, focusing solely on getting back to the safety of your own room.

Slamming the door behind you, you leaned against it, trying to catch your breath. Your roommate, Lily, looked up from her laptop, her eyebrows raising in surprise. "Where have you been? And why do you look like you just ran a marathon?"

"Do you remember anything from last night?" you asked, your voice shaky.

Lily frowned, closing her laptop. "Not really. We went to that party at Sigma Chi, and you were with me until you went to get another drink. After that, you kind of disappeared. Why? What happened?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the bizarre situation. "I woke up in Miguel’s bed."

Lily's eyes widened. "Miguel? As in Miguel O'Hara, the guy who fucks anyone in sight? What happened?"

"I don't know!" you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exasperation. "I have no idea how I got there or what happened. He said something about me being great last night, but I don't remember anything!"

Lily's expression turned serious. "Okay, let's think this through. Did he seem...I don't know, weird or anything?"

You shook your head, trying to recall the brief encounter. "He seemed amused, like he found the whole thing funny."

Lily stood up, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We need to get to the bottom of this. Maybe he can explain what happened. You should talk to him."

The thought of facing Miguel again made your stomach churn. “Absolutely not.” You aspirated as you headed to the bathroom.

“Y/N!” Lily exclaimed.

“No! Screw him!” You slammed the bathroom door.

You undressed and looked in the mirror. Seriously? How did I manage to mess up this bad? You step into the shower and turned on the water.

The hot water did little to wash away the anxiety swirling in your mind, but it did help you feel slightly more human. Once you were dressed in fresh clothes, you felt marginally better, but the prospect of running into Miguel still loomed over you.

Chemistry class that you have with Miguel has ended, and you successfully avoided him like the plague. However, your relief was short-lived. As you reached for your phone to check the time, your stomach dropped. Your phone wasn’t in your backpack. In your hurry to escape Miguel’s dorm this morning, you must have left it there. The thought of going back filled you with dread, but you couldn’t just leave it.

That evening, you decided to sneak into Miguel’s dorm while he was likely to be out. You waited until it was late enough that most people would be at the dining hall or hanging out with friends. With a deep breath, you made your way to Miguel’s dorm, praying he wasn’t there.

The door was unlocked, much to your relief, but not surprised either. Easy access for girls, I guess. You slipped inside, closing it quietly behind you. The room looked the same as you remembered, and you quickly began searching for your phone. It wasn’t on the desk or the bedside table. You checked under the pillows and around the bed, but it was nowhere to be found.

Just as you were about to give up, you heard the doorknob jiggle. Panic surged through you, and you dived under the bed, holding your breath. The door opened, and you saw Miguel’s shoes step into the room, followed by another pair of shoes—strappy heels. Your heart sank.

“Nice room,” the girl said, her voice light and flirtatious.

“Thanks,” Miguel replied. “Make yourself comfortable.”

You could see their feet moving around, and then suddenly, the bed above you dipped as the girl slammed him down.

“Easy there,” Miguel chuckled.

But the movement had startled you, and you let out an involuntary yelp. The room fell silent.

“What was that?” the girl asked, her voice tense.

Miguel’s voice was cautious. “Sounded like something from under my bed.”

You froze as you saw Miguel’s shoes approach the side of the bed. He crouched down, peering under it, and his eyes met yours. You gave him a cheeky smile, despite your racing heart.

“Oh hey there, lovely weather we’re having here, huh?”

[cockslutpadalecki]

I’m so desperate for a Rafe smut where he says “I’ll only put the tip in.” And I have a feeling that you’re the one that could write it😂 just putting that out there

Gimme An Inch

Characters: Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader.

Words: 1.1K.

Warnings: dub-con, drug taking, vaginal sex, cream pie, intoxicated reader (not drugged), 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: This has been sitting in my inbox for almost a year, and it’s all because of my rewatch of Outer Banks that I finally got inspired. So here it is, to celebrate season three dropping this week! Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

“C’mon baby,” Rafe grits out into the column of your throat. His voice is heavy, split through with lust. His fingers roam beneath your skirt, plucking at the hem of your panties.

“Not here,” you husk back, pathetically pushing against his chest. Marginal effort is all you manage. It’s not like you want Rafe to stop what he’s doing… you just don’t want to do it here. 

The bass of the music from the party shakes the ground beneath you, lights from the front porch of Topper’s house flooding the immediate vicinity around it. Rafe’s car is parked just out of the light’s reach, keeping you bathed in darkness, but you’re still worried someone might see. In the open doorway of his truck, he stands in between your spread legs, the cool but contradicting sticky night air swirling around the cab. 

You glance out of the windscreen as he places heavy kisses against your collarbone, trying to suss out whether anyone is watching you. Scattered crowds of people hang around outside, smoking god knows what and the occasional outburst of laughter pulls your attention further from Rafe. Yet it’s quickly dragged back by him pulling your panties down and you focus on him as he stuffs them into the pocket of his shorts.

“Don’t worry, they can’t see us,” he assures thickly, lips hot against your jaw.

“How d’you know?” you reply with skepticism, hands covering his as they delve back under your skirt. He doesn’t even look up to reassure you face to face— merely mutters into your ear that it’s fine. 

Nobody’s gonna care. Loosen up, it’s a party. Everyone’s hooking up.

His words do little to ease your anxiety, but the warmth of his cockhead skimming through your pussy lips divert your thoughts elsewhere. The fear of being caught by Rafe’s friends is suddenly overshadowed by the elephant in the room.

“We can’t,” you protest again, but it lacks the proper sincerity. Your body buzzes with coke and alcohol, veins alight with heat. You want to, fuck, you really want to.

“What’re you so afraid of?” Rafe sighs, impatient. 

“Getting pregnant,” you hiss back. “Have you got any protection with you?”

“Left them at home,” he shrugs like it’s not a big deal. You scoff, but he’s quick to reassure you. “It’s fine, I’ll pull out.” 

“Remember when you said that last time?” you remind him sharply. “I had to take a pill.” 

Rafe smirks. “You don’t normally mind takin’ pills.” 

“Asshole,” you smirk back, familiar heat coiling in your gut as you feel the head of his cock press against your entrance, teasing. You open your legs a little wider to let him move closer, the warmth between your legs now almost scorching.

“Hey.” He leans in, kissing you. Messy and full of intent. “I’ll only put the tip in, promise.”

“K,” you comply. Without a moment to allow you to reconsider, Rafe slides in. Just the tip— like he promised. “Oh god.” 

“You like that, huh?” He licks and nips at your mouth, encouraging you to let him in. Your tongue slides over his, moaning as he pulls out, the head of his cock keeping your pussy gaping. 

He slowly slides back inside you— keeping his promise, just the tip. He pauses briefly, then he goes in a little deeper. 

“Rafe,” you chastise and he apologises into your lips, pulling back his hips until he’s nestled just inside your entrance. In a haze, you flop back onto the front seat, your head swirling with dangerous levels of potent arousal. 

He repeats his movements— shallow thrusts in and out. But it leaves the rest of you wanting more, your core aching for fullness. You keep the plea for him to go deeper behind your lips. You don’t want to go back on your word, knowing that if you do, Rafe will hold you to it for future reference. 

But you let me do it last time. 

You’re spacing out— the drugs and alcohol slowing your reaction time before you realise he’s sliding in deeper. Deeper. Deeper. 

“Noo,” you whine thickly, “you said just the tip.” You try to wriggle up the seat, but Rafe grips your hips too tight. 

“Oh shit baby, I’m sorry,” he apologises on a hazy loop, yet he makes no attempt to stop. You push against his chest, urging him to pull out but he doesn’t. Instead he rattles off, “Fuck baby, I can’t, I’m sorry, you just feel so good.” 

He’s fucking you to the root now. Deep, stomach-aching thrusts that make your eyes roll up to the roof. Stars dance in your vision, but you can’t be sure if it’s actually the night sky you’re seeing through the gap in Rafe’s windscreen. 

“R-Rafe,” you stutter, “you gotta pu-pull out.”

Sparks of electricity short out all over your body, making you forget your train of thought. Why would you want him to sto—oh.

“C’mon baby, don’t make me stop now,” he grunts above you. “Not when you’re so close.” 

His thumb swirls over your clit, pressing gently down on it. Your hips cant towards him, sliding him in deeper and you cry out, coming until stray tears run into your hairline. 

“Oh shit. See.” His tone reeks of I-told-you-so. “Why would you want me to stop when I can make you come like that, huh?”

“C-can’t come inside,” you beg, flutters of heat from your climax still making you dizzy. 

“I promise I’ll pull out,” he tells you again. He readjusts his grip, practically tugging you off the seat and onto his cock. 

“Fuck,” you repeat in a stupor, Rafe fucking you to the point where you think you might pass out. 

“Yes, that’s it, baby.” You hear him say, but he sounds so far away. Somewhere off in the distance, out of reach. The only sensation tethering him back to you is the ripples of his cock as he thrusts back into your gaping pussy. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so close.”

“R-af-pull-ou,” you garble, your tongue too thick for your mouth.

“But I’m so fuckin’ close, fuck right there, oh shit, I’m gonna-” 

His thrusts slow, deepening to the point where he holds himself inside you, hips bruising against the backs of your thighs, before barely pulling out. You don’t have time or the energy to stop him, the sudden heat of his cum warming you from the inside out.

Rafe slumps over you, pressing wet kisses to the curve of your breast as he apologises heavily over and over into your skin.

Just felt so good. 

Couldn’t help myself.

And like an idiot, you take it as a compliment.

***

RC: @infatuatedjanes @mugi-chwan95 @mysweetpoisons @weasleytwinsexpert

4EVS: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @chibijusstuff @callsignrambam @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @labella420 @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2writes @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @sage-writing @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @stoneyggirl2 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @unfortunate-brat @wayward-dreamer @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox

[leathfaic]

Ghost is a man who never needed to do much to draw attention when he goes clubbing. His impressive frame ensures he gets plenty of attention. That natural air of authority honed over years as a commanding officer ensuring he has his space if he wants it, unwanted approaches stopped before they even begin.

Still lots of eyes stick to him casually leaning against the bar. Always had an easy pick of those brave enough to approach him. Even before the scars in his face he attracted a certain type, the twinks that wanted to be thrown around, bears wanting to play with someone in their own weight class they weren't sure they could out-wrestle and everyone in between who just likes tall, strong blondes. Ever since the scars that has only intensified, might be that he loses out on some vain types, but the daredevils flock to him even more now.

So really he can't complain. He's not the biggest fan of the places, avoids scrungy punky ones altogether for very personal reasons, but they serve their purpose. Finding a quick lay mostly. Sometimes just enjoying a space where he's not the only gay man for miles and miles.

When he starts to go clubs with Soap though, it becomes a very different experience.

First of all he's not looking to take anyone home or to a convenient dark corner.

No, he's here because Johnny likes dancing and what Johnny wants he usually gets. Simon could never deny him anything.

So there is no one Ghost is looking at but Soap. And bloody fucking hell it is worth looking.

Johnny's easy confidence bleeds off of him and mixed with his natural charm he commands the entire rooms attention. His body helps, sure, sculpted muscles barely hidden by a mesh shirt and jeans so tight there's nothing left to the imagination, but there's plenty of good looking men around.

None of them carry themselves like Soap does though.

He watches as Soap enters the dance floor, seeming to melt into the beat. Dancing as effortlessly as he cleans an entire building of hostiles. A fucking vision in strobing lights as he let's the rhythm dictate his movements. Wide fucking smile painted on his face.

People flock to him, wind themselves around him in more or less proficient dance moves, probably hoping to leave an impression over the gaggle of obvious suitors.

Soap toys with them, dancing with those he finds entertaining, neatly sidestepping those he doesn't. Bathing in the attention of wandering hands and lips.

Ghost wonders if they can feel how dangerous of a man he really is. If they can smell the slight hint of sulfur from the demolitions workshop he's been crammed in all day. If they can see the edge in his eyes, that predatory glint of a man trained to kill walking through a crowd of unaware civilians.

Most probably can't.

Some who can probably find it exciting.

In the end none of it matters anyways.

Because it is Ghost's gaze that Johnny seeks when another man winds around him, littering his neck with kisses. And it's on Ghost's wordless command that he abandons the crowd of hopefuls. Meandering over to him, well aware of all the looks following him as he sprawls himself in Simon's lap unabashedly.

It's a unique rush of power having the man they all want at his beck and call. To take a sip of whisky and shamelessly kiss it into his mouth. Making sure just a little spills over painting a golden line for him to lick up.

Keeping his eyes on the crowd and bathing in their envy, their hunger and their shock.

He indulges for a few minutes, let's Soap shower him in affection while keeping him and the room in check with his dominance over the situation.

It's a game they both know Ghost will lose down the line, will drag Soap out of the club like his life depends on it. Maybe throw him over his shoulder just to make a point.

But not yet. Now he makes sure Soap drinks some water and sends him off again with a well aimed slap to his arse.

And Johnny smiles bright and wide. Drifting into the crowd, the crowd that is apprehensive at first but before long they can't help themselves. There's some wary glances shot at Simon, but his ongoing indifference seems to embolden them. Crowding Soap like moths would a light.

And Ghost finds himself suddenly enjoying clubs a whole lot more. Revelling in Soap's obvious bliss and the knowledge that the man who drives the whole dance floor senseless will follow him in the blink of an eye.

Let them get their hopes up, he's got nothing to fear, to be jealous over because he knows the only thing that matters:

Soap commands the whole room without even trying, but Ghost is the only one who commands his attention.

[familyvideostevie]

“needing to use the restroom but they're clinging onto you like a koala and you don't want to wake them up” that is so James Potter I cry my snuggly boy

thank you for your request! <3 | needing to use the restroom but they're clinging to onto you like a koala and you don't want to wake them up ---

You're not totally sure what wakes you -- James's quiet snores or your need to pee. Probably a mix of both, since his face is smushed into your neck and thus you ear is rather close to the rumbling breaths. The sun has almost set, evening light bathing the room in a warm golden glow. James had gotten home from an early shift a few hours ago and declared today "a wash" and begged you to nap with him on the couch.

Naps, in your relationship, mean you sprawled across the cushions and James gently but firmly positioned on top of you, arms wrapped around you like the world's coziest and most handsome blanket. There is nowhere you feel safer than his embrace.

You know that he likes sleeping like this, too. Getting James to slow down is like coaxing an excited puppy to sit -- he's always on the go, always moving, always talking. You love it about him, his lust for life. His commitment to trying new things and to making sure that you're as happy as possible. But he tires himself out often and you know that one of the few places he feels able to rest fully, to remind himself that the world will wait, is in your arms.

The sleep slowly fades from your vision and you rub a hand up and down his back. He inhales deeply, lips pressed to your pulse, before letting out another small snore. You grin. His unruly black hair tickles your nose, your cheeks. He smells like coconuts and grass.

You could stay here forever, probably, but you remember the other reason you woke up: bathroom. You run your fingers through his curls gently, teasing out a few knots, and hope it'll rouse him.

"James," you whisper. "James, wake up. I need to pee."

Snore.

"C'mon you lump," you say, still whispering, your voice rough with sleep. "Jamie, move."

You could shove him off, you know that. But he is rather heavy and you don't totally want this moment to end. The flat is so cold and he's so warm.

But, as he snores again, a little louder this time, you decide that romance can take a backseat for a second. You do need to go to the bathroom and someone needs to start dinner sooner rather than later. So, you decide to employ a trick Sirius taught you from their school days. You gently push his hair back so that you can bring your lips to one of his ears and suck in a breath before blowing sharply into his ear canal.

James startles, yelping and jerking so wildly that he rolls right off of you and onto the floor with a thump.

"Fuck me," he says, voice groggy. You can't contain your laughter as it bubbles out of you and you sit up. "Could've just shaken me, you evil woman."

"But that's so much less fun!" You stand and move to step over him, dodging his hand where he tries to grab your ankle.

"I could've hit my head!" he moans.

"Good thing you've got a thick skull."

"Brutal. What time is it?" he mumbles, eyes closing again right there on the carpet.

"Time for you to start dinner!" you call over your shoulder. James groans and you laugh.

request a prompt here!

[wolftoken]

Rabbit Hunting • IV x Reader

a/n: this was @pastlives-pastlie ‘s idea blame them

word count: 2085 • tags: gn reader, use of the petname “bunny,” predator/prey kink (all consensual), oral (reader receiving), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, biting, unprotected penetrative sex, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie

• masterlist •

Every curtain is shut tight to ensure no light can penetrate the shadows. Not even a candle is lit somewhere so you can keep an eye on your surroundings - you have to rely completely on your other senses. The pouring rain outside makes it difficult to hear the quiet yet determined footsteps of IV, no doubt stalking the hallway like a big cat in search of a meal. You’re going to be too easy of a meal if you can’t keep your breathing in check, or your limbs from twitching with anticipation. It’s all you can do not to let out a squeal when you hear the door opening and the sound of him stepping into the room.

You’re under the bed, wearing PJ shorts and a tank top, with your hands plastered over your mouth to limit the sounds of your breathing lest you give yourself away. Your boyfriend’s determined and heavy breaths seem to be getting louder and louder and it’s making you want to rut your hips against the floor with how turned on it gets you, and you try your best not to let your toes curl in case he somehow hears them.

You can’t tell where IV is in the room but you heard some shuffling about, most likely him moving things out of his way to try and catch you. You want to crawl out and touch him, sink into his arms and let him have his way with you, but you know he’ll be so thrilled with hunting you down when he does find you that he’ll fuck you until he can’t go any longer and, frankly, you cannot wait.

A quiet growl cuts through the silence like a knife and causes your face to heat up beneath your hands. You think he’s done searching in here as his footsteps begin to recede and eventually come to a stop. Taking a chance, you let out a breath and place your hands back on the floor. Now he’s out of the room, you think about what to do next - it would be a fun challenge to try and sneak off to a new hiding place while he’s lurking around the house but there’s not much time to think of ideas because you’re being snatched out from under the bed by your ankles and you feel IV’s hips settle against your ass.

Of course, you scream - and he laughs mockingly. Your heart beats a million miles a minute and you feel such a rush from the adrenaline and the way he feels pressing down on you so nicely.

“Aww, I caught a little bunny,” he coos, stroking your hair gently with one hand until he grabs at your waist to pull you up and hoist you onto the bed. You land with a slight jump, pressing your thighs together in desperate search of relief. He can’t see you, but he knows you. He knows how much you’re dripping wet for him because he’s the same way - ever since you ran off to go hide, his cock had been twitching and leaking precum, leaving a wet patch on his black boxers that was getting bigger by the minute. The thought of him stalking through the house wearing nothing but his underwear and sporting a hefty tent was enough to make you moan out loud and catch his attention, and his hands carefully came down to run up your sides, the cool hair causing goosebumps in its wake.

“Did you have fun hiding from me? Were you trembling under the bed just waiting for to come and find you?” he asks, his tone dark yet playful. All you can do is whine and nod your head even though you know he can’t see it. The light of the bedside lamp suddenly fills your eyes, even thought it’s dim. It bathes IV in golden light that makes his eyes glint with what you have come to realise is hunger. Desperate, starving hunger and you know you’ll be the meal that satisfies his needs.

He lowers himself to settle on his knees on the floor in front of you, bringing his big hands up to take a hold of your thighs and pull them apart abruptly. The sudden movement makes you blush and it amuses him, how you hide your flustered face in the duvet while he’s got his mouth so close to your aching core you’re almost begging him to taste you.

Grabbing your hips, he pulls you so you’re almost hanging off the edge of the bed with your legs on his shoulders and moves the crotch of your shorts to the side so he can lick a long wet stripe over your underwear. It makes you twitch and whine for more and he can’t resist such pretty noises for long since he’s taking your shorts and undies off and throwing them somewhere on the floor in the darkness.

The feel of his hot wet tongue tracing his spit over your skin makes you shudder and writhe in his arms, relishing in the way his strong hands grip your thighs and bring them close to his face. He doesn’t waist any time with teasing or trying to make you beg for it because he wants it just as much as you do - he wants to have his mouth full with the taste of you and feel the way your thighs clamp down around his head when he makes you cum. He’s hunted down his meal and now he will devour it accordingly.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the coil inside you tightening, not when you’re so messy with his spit and your wetness, covering the inside of your thighs and the lower half of IV’s face. His lips glisten as they work over you with his incessant tongue as your hand flies down to gently grip at his hair. It makes his fingers tighten their hold on you as he practically growls into your skin and it’s primal and hungry and it’s making you cum in his mouth.

You’re moaning loudly and trying to grab for any piece of him you can reach but he doesn’t let up his ministrations - in fact, he snaps his fingers at you which you know means ‘look at me,” and when you meet his eyes they’re half-lidded and drunk on the taste of you and you can’t look away, not when he’s so clearly as lost in the feeling of it as you are. Your second orgasm comes quickly, and you arch your back off the bed and whine when it becomes too much to handle and IV mercifully takes his mouth off you so you can recover. He’s breathing heavily and watching you, making sure you’re all right but also noting how pretty and used you look, all wet and messy and with your thighs still quivering slightly and your hands flexing at your sides in search of him.

When you’re coherent enough to sit up and take a look at him you remember how achingly hard he is. You want to help him out, relieve his stiff cock and make him feel good, so you sit up on your knees in front of him like a good little bunny and await your orders. He knows you want to suck him off and to feel him cum down your throat and as much as he would love that, he’d much rather fuck you right now. But the temptation of you looking so soft and obedient for him is too hard to resist, so he takes a hold of your hair to pull your face to press against his bulge.

You try to open your mouth but he uses his other hand to gently shut your jaw as he holds you. You can tell he doesn’t want to get off like this, he just wants to feel you and use you a little - since he hunted you down fair and square he thinks he should be able to do what he likes with his prey.

After just feeling the warmth of your skin for a minute, IV pushes your shoulders to make you fall back on the bed with a squeak. He’s shucking his boxers off to free his hard and leaking cock, hissing when he takes it in his hand to give himself a couple of strokes. Absentmindedly, you open your legs for him and he leans down to rub his cock head over your dripping hole, grinning as you plead for him to fuck you properly with glazed over and cock drunk eyes.

“Aww, you need it that bad, little bunny? You need me to fuck my cum into you over and over again? Tell me,” he says, his tone condescending tone making you whine in frustration, especially with the tantalising feeling of him almost inside you, almost giving you what you want. Though it’s a short lived misery, because he pushes his cock into you with one hand while the other comes to rest on your thigh. He lets out a strained groan at the feeling of you so warm and tight on him, struggling to thrust himself all the way in with how you clench around him.

A slew of breathless curses spill from his mouth when he bottoms out, both hands grabbing at your thighs to pull you back against him as he slowly fucks you and stares down at your core, watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, angling his hips in slightly different ways to find that spot that makes you scream for him.

Its not difficult for him and soon you’re moaning in tandem with him about how bad you want to cum, how much you love his thick cock, how desperate you are for him to cum inside you. Of course, he’s heard you tell him all this before - but it never makes it any less thrilling for him. It spurs him on like nothing else and he’s pounding into you hard enough to shift you up the mattress and he has to pull you back down to him by your waist.

He leans down and his arms wrap around you completely as he fucks you even deeper than before, with his head buried in your neck to muffle his deep moans and to let his teeth sink into your soft skin. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your throat and his cock pushing so deep inside you, you swear you can almost feel it in your throat and it makes the coil inside you snap and you’re cumming hard for him.

“Oh my god, baby, feel so fucking perfect - fucking gushing around me, bunny, you’re so good…”

He can’t seem to find any words to add onto his praise when he cums inside you, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his orgasm and the way you’re still pulsing around his dick and prolonging his pleasure to an almost painful degree. Of course, you’re feeling the same, squeezing him with your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders holding on for dear life as he grinds himself into you.

He can never resist the temptation to overstimulate both of you, as well as the feeling of his cum spilling out of you and dripping down onto the sheets to make a mess of you - one that he’ll gladly clean up with his tongue, if you let him. But he stops eventually, letting you catch your breath as he presses gentle kisses over your neck and shoulder where his face is still pressed into you.

“Mmph, was that worth the chase, bunny?” he grins. You roll your eyes affectionately and let your legs and arms fall back to your side as he stands up, his hands smoothing over your waist and hips as he looks down at the mess between the two of you. Both of you are glistening with cum and sweat and before IV can get worked up and hard again you sit up and tell him to go run a bath. He pouts playfully but presses a few soft kisses to your cheeks before making his way to the en suite bathroom.

You feel a little bad that you got to cum three times and he only got one orgasm, but hopefully the bath together can provide another excuse to wrap your fingers around his cock and make a whole new mess with him.

[lets-just-daydream]

Hi hello!

Can I request some gothic angsty romance about ascended astarion years after tav left him and lives on their own? Idk if that’s up your alley or not ><

YESSSSS OMG alsooooo i kinda got carried away LOL

*

Astarion never wanted to be a brooding vampire. He'd read stories all about them in his countless years and just found it a little embarrassing if he was honest. He supposed he didn't see the need to brood in the darkness anyway. He made the decision to ascend with your help a few years ago and he could bask in the sun, he could make an army that bent to his every whim, he could feed on whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted. And yet, he sat in front of his fireplace, curtains drawn shut with a golden goblet of wine in his hand, brooding.

He had everything he ever wanted. Well, almost everything but he could hardly be blamed for that. Well, you did blame him and he was displeased to say the least you would ever dare to defy him. How could you? After everything. He devoted everything to you, worshipped you and granted you the gift of eternal life so you could spend it by his side. But after some time into your relationship with him after he had ascended you had just… left. He remembered it so clearly.

"Good morning, my treasure," Astarion whispered against your skin as the sunlight beamed in through the window.

It bathed you both in a soft light and you turned to admire his alabaster skin. He rubbed his nose against your neck and inhaled. He would never get enough of your musk, and he made sure he laid claim over you by making sure he bathed you in his own scent, so no one would ever dare to try to make a move on you.

You had noticed Astarion had become more… possessive of you lately. At first you found it endearing and butterflies would flutter in your stomach when he'd wrap a protective arm around your waist, or when he'd hover nearby. But once, one of his spawn had sought you out to ask a question and Astarion was displeased. He came up next to you while you were mid-conversation and pressed a hot, urgent kiss to your lips, coming close to undressing and claiming you in front of his spawn.

"Astarion," you said, trying to pull away. He held onto you and you pushed him away, heaving heavy breaths from the embarrassment. "What in the hells are you doing?!"

The fact that you were so… insubordinate in front of someone else caused him to glare down at you. He growled and pulled you by the arm up to the bedroom and fucked you loud enough that the entire palace heard you screaming his name. He owned you and he needed you, his spawn and anyone else who might hear to remember that.

"You're mine," he whispered in to your ear as he fucked you.

The next time Astarion had made you feel uneasy was when he decided he wanted to host a party. You were excited, now that the two of you could just enjoy your lives after all the shit you'd been through. And because of that, you thought you deserved a nice, new outfit to wear for the party. You grabbed your gold pouch and left the palace to wander through the high-end shops. You had such a fun afternoon trying on what felt like hundreds of outfits before you finally landed on a beautiful piece with gold trimmings and gorgeous threadwork. You hoped Astarion would like it and you were excited to show him your new purchase.

You arrived home and were greeted by Astarion near the front door. He heard you enter the house and stalked over to you, grabbing you by the shoulders.

"Where the hell have you been?" He asked, his fingers gripping your tightly.

"I was out at the shops," you faltered, gesturing to the cloth clothing bag in your hand.

"And you didn't think to tell me you were going out?!"

Your brows furrowed. "I didn't think I needed to update you on my every movement. Would you like you know the next time I need to scratch my ass?"

At your taunt, Astarion's expression darkened and one of his hands slid to your throat, squeezing lightly. His voice dropped and you shivered slightly as he seethed. "I have half a mind to lock you away in the bedroom and only let you out at my own leisure."

You gasped slightly and pulled away from him, his hands dropping as he glared down at you.

"You'd do well to remember your place, pet," he said as he reached out and caressed your cheek. He tutted at your scared expression and leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead before he stalked away, leaving you visibly shaken.

You still stayed by his side, however. You figured he was still getting used to the new power he had and figured he wouldn't know better if you didn't say so. So you decided to pull him aside one day, asking if you could talk.

"You want to talk? That's cute," he said condescendingly.

You frowned and sat in the armchair opposite his, the fire crackled as the silence between you stretched. You tried to find the words but you weren't sure how he was going to take it no matter how delicately you put it.

"Well, my little treat?"

You sighed and looked up at Astarion. He was so beautiful, the shadows cast over his face from the fire made him look ethereal almost.

"Astarion, I don't know how to put this. I don't want you to get upset but… I don't think I can stay here anymore. With you," you whispered.

His brows furrowed and for a moment, you weren't sure he heard you but his expression turned steely after a moment. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his voice devoid of any warmth.

He stood and walked over in front of your chair, glaring down at you. You could only stare back, slightly afraid as you watched his nose flair in displeasure. He corrected himself and softened his expression, one of his hands coming down to rub your cheek softly, as if he might break you if he held you too tight.

"You don't want to stay here with me anymore, is that right pet?" He asked.

You slowly nodded your head, your eyes never leaving his.

"Would you like to tell me why?"

You gulped and took a deep breath as you tried to piece together an explanation that wouldn't make him too angry. You had had a taste of his bouts of anger and you were on very shaky ground right now.

"Do you remember when you first ascended and the night we spent together?" You gave him a soft, hopefully reassuring smile. "You said that you'd take of me forever, that I would want for nothing and you would never let anything happen to me?"

Astarion nodded wordlessly.

"Well, I don't feel very well taken care of," you said slowly. "I feel like you're… controlling me. I miss the person you were before you became the ascendant."

Astarion scoffed and dropped his hand from your face. "You miss the weak, pathetic little spawn I was?"

His words stung slightly and you looked down at your hands in your lap. "Is that how you see me?" You faltered. "A weak, pathetic little spawn?"

Astarion dropped to his knees and knelt in front of you. You looked at him and had trouble reading his expression, but he looked at you with adoration.

"Little love," he murmured, his face so close to yours that your noses were almost touching. "When I was a spawn, I was a scared and controlled pawn in whatever Cazador told me to do. I was locked away in dungeons. Do I lock you away?"

You shook your head.

"He forced me to sleep with thousands of strangers and bring them to him. Do I make you sleep with the disgusting vermin of this city to bring them to me?"

You shook your head again.

He cupped your jaw in his hand and rubbed your skin with his thumb. "When I disobeyed him one time, he locked me in a casket for a year and let me starve, begging for death for months on end. When you've upset me, have I ever done such an abhorrent thing to you?"

"No," you whispered.

"No," Astarion repeated. "I love and cherish you so much, my treasure. I only want to keep you within my reach and in my arms to ensure your safety. How could I ever do to you what he did to me? I've never heard of a vampire spawn treated as well as you are."

He gave you a soft, loving smile and you returned it, unaware that he had just played you like a fiddle. You were so easily manipulated now, just like you were when he first met you. Exactly how he wanted you.

After your conversation with Astarion, he had actually calmed down a little bit which was surprising to you. But he seemed stiffer than usual and you found yourself walking around eggshells near him anyway. Most spawn did of course, he was the ultimate vampire. The vampire ascendant. But the fact that he had become softer and you still didn't feel completely comfortable around him anymore set a pit in your stomach.

You weren't like normal lovers who had simply had a quarrel and would work it out. You were fantastic beings who could live forever, and Astarion had total control over you. This could last forever if you let it. So you figured, what was the harm in another talk? He had been reasonable last time and corrected himself, he loved you and you were completely devoted to one another.

You entered his study where he sat in a plush armchair, reading a book of some sort. The curtains were open and sunlight was streaming in through the windows, bathing him in sunlight. It was lucky he could withstand the sun, he looked gorgeous basking in its glow. He glanced up to see who was intruding and a smile spread on his lips when he saw you approach.

"Ah, my sweet," he said as he placed the book on the table beside him. "I've missed you today."

He patted his hands in his lap and gestured for you to come sit, which you obliged. You sat with either knee straddling his hips and he looked up at you with soft, red eyes before gripping your hips and nuzzling his face in your neck.

"You smell divine as always," he whispered against your skin, pressing a kiss to your neck.

He seemed like he was in a pretty good mood so you figured now was as good a time as any.

"My love…" you began, placing your hands over his.

Astarion pulled back from your skin and gazed into your eyes with a look that said he knew something was coming. "Yes my sweet?"

"Maybe I'm just being silly but… I'm worried that you've been distancing yourself from me."

You watched as he raised a brow, his mouth hardening into a line. "Distancing myself? I'm not sure I know what you mean."

You sucked in a breath. "Since that day we talked, when I said I wasn't happy… I don't know, things feel different."

Astarion scoffed and gripped your hips tighter. "First, I give you eternal life with some of my own power sprinkled in. Then, you wanted to leave me because," he raised his fingers in air quotes. "I don't treat you well. So I relaxed and have given you extra freedom, you've even talked to some men and I haven't killed them. Now, you're not happy with that, either."

His expression darkened and he wrapped his fingers around your chin and cheeks, holding you in place. "What more could I give you that you don't already have?"

You trembled slightly and studied Astarion's face. You caught a glimpse of something you saw the day he turned you… Something demeaning and possessive that you didn't understand at the time but you do now. He doesn't see you as an equal, he sees you as his object. Truly a pathetic, little spawn.

Tears brimmed in your eyes and you shut them as the tears rolled down your cheeks and onto Astarion's fingers. A choked sob left you and while Astarion's eyes stayed steely, he pulled you into a hug and patted your hair. You sobbed into his shoulder and you weren't even sure what you were crying for. Many thoughts raced through your mind that caused you to sob harder. You remembered the first time you ever met Astarion, the first night you had ever spent together, when he had confessed his love to you in spite of himself and a moment you wish you could take back. The moment you decided to let him ascend. That one made you cry the most.

"There, there, my love," Astarion comforted. "We'll fix this."

His words were soft but you heard the strain in his voice when he spoke. You couldn't know that he was so incredibly frustrated. He had never seen anyone behave like this when he was a spawn under Cazador. The vampire master never stood for it, but also, Cazador didn't have someone like you. Maybe Astarion needed to try a different approach. He'd tried what just came naturally and then he tried being more like what you wanted him to be. Clearly you weren't happy with either of these so he decided he would do what he wanted to do.

Whether he was going to lock you up somewhere or chain you to the bed he wasn't sure but he'd had enough of trying to please you and having it thrown back in his face.

You, on the other hand, weren't sure how he was going to react after this and worried that Astarion's patience was only so limited. You could only handle so many of his different ways of showing his love for you before it turned into something completely unsavoury. You would never say it to him but… he was starting to remind you of Cazador. Only a little bit, but enough that it scared you.

You weren't sure if dealing with Astarion's new way of love and life or leaving and starting a new life on your own was scarier. But you had to make a choice and you didn't really want to stick around to see how Astarion was going to "fix" this one.

After your moment in the study, Astarion retired to the bedroom to rest. You told him you would join him soon but instead you waited until all the spawn had either turned in or gone out for the night. You stood at the bottom of the stairs and heard nothing from your bedroom. You quickly and quietly made your way to the front doors before slipping out with a gold pouch and some possessions in your pack you had stowed away earlier.

You ran your hand fondly over the pack. It was travel-worn and had served you well during your adventures since the nautiloid crash. Your eyes became misty as you recalled memories with Astarion over those weeks. You glanced at the door behind you before taking off into the night to hide yourself away.

Whilst you weren't sure how long your immunity to the sun would last, hopefully forever, you were grateful to Astarion for granting you that at least. You wouldn't have to hide away in the Underdark. But… you would have to seek out your own sustenance now which you weren't sure you could stomach. But this was your decision for now, whether you'd end up crawling back to Astarion or not.

The following morning, Astarion woke and reached out for you, feeling nothing but cold, empty bed. He sat up with a start and looked around the room but you were nowhere to be found. He jumped out of bed and pulled some pants on before storming through the palace in search of you. As he checked each room and you weren't there, his anger and worry increased. Had someone kidnapped you? He hadn't found any random notes, plus no one would be foolish enough to do that. His brow furrowed and he bit down on his lip in frustration.

Oh! Perhaps you'd gone to the shops for the morning. He felt relieved at this thought. You'd done this before and you'd be back in no time. With a relieved sigh, he turned to one of his spawn and asked him to draw a bath. He wandered back to the bedroom and set out his clothes for the day. He smiled as he ran his fingers over your dresses and possessions, each one of them was so… you. Perhaps he'd come and join you at the shops when he was done.

He picked some clothes out but paused on his way out of the closet. His eyes narrowed to a spot on the floor that looked strangely empty. Racking his brain to think about what could be missing, he dropped his clothes with a gasp as the penny dropped. He let out an angry cry when he realised your travel pack was gone. He dressed quickly and stormed through the palace once again, this time angrier and with more urgency.

The spawn approached to tell him his bath was ready, but Astarion pushed him to the side as he descended the stairs and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. He stepped outside and as he looked around at all the people who milled around and did their shopping, he had no idea where you could be. His first thought was that you'd be hiding someplace dark and well-hidden but you had his own blood in your system. You could be anywhere.

In reality you weren't that far away. You had become so familiar with every nook and cranny of Baldur's Gate whilst you and your merry band had been on your quest. So you were pretty certain you could keep off Astarion's radar, for now at least. But gods, you were going to miss him.

You'd managed to stay hidden for a while, dodging his spawn and keeping out trouble. You did miss him something fierce and you'd been tempted to go crawling back to him a few times but to what end? But could you last eternity like this without him?

Astarion had the answer to that. The answer was decidedly no. He had no idea where you had disappeared to but he was never going to give up on searching for you. Other spawn had tried to view for his affections but none could hold a candle to you. None could ever begin to even compare to you. It was you he wanted and it was you he would search for, forever if he needed to.

[the-black-manor]

The Little Moments

Summary: You enjoy a good fucking in the tub with your master.

Warnings: Cervix fucking, unprotected sex, cnc.

Kinks: Vampire, oversized cock, excessive cum, cum inflation, breeding, shower/bath, master/pet, dom/sub.

Characters: You and your loving Master.

Words: 2,632

More writing on Patreon.

Soft classical music draws you subconsciously to your master's bedroom, where you pad silently on bare feet across the dark wood floor to the bathroom door. You don't bother knocking before you turn the brass knob and step inside. Within the dimly lit room sits your master in a large, black claw-foot tub, whose golden accents have worn and faded through the many years it's belonged to him. If you didn't know any better, you might think that your master was sleeping. His pale skin seemed almost to glow as the moonlight filtered in through the tall window opposite you to light upon his face. He looked like a statue, chiseled expertly from marble by the deft hands of a master sculptor.

You were suddenly very aware of your own presence in the room and how much of a blemish you seemed to be amidst this picturesque scene. For the briefest moment, you wanted to sneak out of the bathroom without your master knowing you were ever there. But you stayed. He already knew you were there. He always knew when you were there.

"Master?" you called quietly.

He didn't respond, only lifted his hand out of the water and held it out toward you. He liked to wear gloves, your master, and while no one else knew why, you did. His hands bore the sign of his age. They were a roadmap through the many centuries he had been alive. Deep lines crossed his wide palms like canyons, and his fingers were thick and long, tipped with crimson nails. You padded forward and rested your hand in his. His skin was gray, almost translucent here, thin, and pulled too tightly over pronounced tendons and bone, like a corpse. He is a corpse. You knew this, and yet, despite the lack of a heartbeat, the absence of breath in his lungs, and the cool of his skin, he always seemed so very alive to you. Warm, despite no blood to flow through his veins, with bright eyes and a smile that could bring gods to their knees. Alive, dead, undead, it didn't matter. These were just words to you; they held no weight. He was perfect.

His fingers curled around yours, firmly, but not tightly. Pink peonies floated on the surface of the water, and the faint aroma of vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, and other warm spices drifted into the air, carried by the steam. He liked to use oils in his baths to keep his skin from becoming leathery, and this one was one of your favorites. The water was so still, it looked like glass, and didn't obscure any of what your master had to offer. Long legs with strong thighs, a thin waist and stomach with just the barest definition of abs partially hidden by dark hair leading down to his crotch, where his cock rested, always semi-firm, between his legs. His chest was covered in the same dark hair as his belly, strong and toned, and he had muscular arms that he, unfortunately, liked to keep hidden beneath dress shirts made of expensive fabrics.

Your gaze wandered toward his, where he peeked at you through one half-open eye, a smirk on his delicate lips. Your face heat up in embarrassment, and you looked away. He only chuckled, a deep reverberation through the room akin to the first rumbles of thunder that precede a storm.

"Are you going to get in, or not?" he asked, and your heart skipped a beat. His voice was music.

He gave your hand a squeeze and you looked back at him. No matter how many times you had slept together, how many times he had touched you, how many times he had looked at you with those pale green eyes, it always felt like the first time, and you felt how David must have felt when he stood before Goliath. You were so small in comparison to this man, this creature, that stood taller than life.

All the same, you nodded, then lifted a foot over the edge of the tub. Your master took very hot baths, but a dip of your toe confirmed that it had cooled enough for you to enjoy the water comfortably.

"Can I sit on your cock?' you asked sheepishly, like a child asking for a second cookie.

"Of course," he smiled, and sharp teeth glinted in the moonlight.

He knew you would ask. You always do.

He scooted back to make room for you and helped you keep your balance as you stepped into the tub. You settled between his legs. The water reached well past your chest, and you could feel the weight of his manhood on your lower back. You knew he would need a moment to get himself ready, so you sat upright, making sure not to obstruct his access to himself. His fingers brushed against you, sending a chill up your spine, as he curled them around his cock. The stillness of the water was broken as he began to stroke himself, creating little waves, one of which carried a fluffy peony right to you. You cupped the flower gently in your hands, and lifted it to your nose, where you breathed deeply, picking its scent out from the rest. You closed your eyes, enjoying the heat of the water and the soft melody drifting through the air.

Your master groaned behind you, and his legs tensed around yours. It never took him long to get ready. You imagined it wouldn't take you long either, if you were always ready to breed someone like he was. Sometimes you wished you had the ability to have sex for hours on end and still be aroused when the session was over. Other times, you saw the look on his face, and knew that he was only barely winning the fight with his instincts. You saw how he would shift throughout the day to try and get comfortable, how he would squeeze his legs together to try and give his greedy cock some friction. In those times, you pitied him. You wished you could give him more of what he needed. You'd told him that you would never say no to him, that he could do whatever he wanted to you, but still he held back. If he didn't, he would break you, and so he was never truly satisfied.

You felt his cock throb against your back, and your own legs clenched in response.

"You can sit in my lap now," he said.

You set the flower back in the water, then used both sides of the tub to lift yourself up just enough for him to position himself beneath you. His hands found your hips and he pulled you backward. Your arms shook as you held your position, waiting for him to line up. His cockhead found its way between your folds and prodded at your entrance. He wiggled, only ever so slightly, but his knee collided with your leg, and you lost your grip on the tub.

You collapsed onto him with your full weight, and his cock slid inside without warning. You cried out and tried to stand, but his arms snaked around your torso like prison bars. He laid back and pulled you with him, holding you firmly against his chest. Your eyes watered and you clenched around him in pain. He rested his chin on your shoulder, and gently rubbed your stomach.

"Hush, love, hush. Stay still. The pain will pass."

You relaxed as best you could and let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Almost instantly, the pain began to subside. Your master insisted over and over that whatever magic or powers he had weren't for healing, but you knew that his touch could relieve pain at the very least. You had experienced it more than once.

You whined and turned your head to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. His soft beard, neatly trimmed and shaped, brushed against your forehead.

"There, that's it," he purred.

One of his hands traveled up your body to play with your nipples, pinching and rolling them around between his fingers, while his other hand found its way between your legs and gave your clit the same attention. Just when you began to think that you were getting used to the size of him, you were reminded just how big he really was. His cock alone made you feel full. He stretched you well, and even while his cockhead was pressed hard against your cervix, he wasn't completely inside of you. You could feel the thick vein beneath his girth massaging your g-spot as he adjusted to get comfortable.

You hummed and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into him, to give yourself to him fully. You were limp in his arms, a toy to be played with, nothing more, and he took full advantage of that. His nails were more akin to claws, but he kept them filed down for you, and you were silently grateful for it as he worked your clit. He moved his fingers just right, and the pleasure that traveled up your spine was like lightning, causing your back to arch involuntarily..

You whined as he pulled you back down with a strong arm and a chuckle.

"Already so sensitive to my touch, and I've only just begun."

You knew he was grinning without needing to see it. He liked to tease you, and he was very good at it, and you had come to know exactly how he responded to certain things. In this case, a grin was predictable. You only wished you could see it, see those fangs that he cared so diligently for.

You buried your face further into the crook of his neck, breathing him in as he rubbed your stomach, massaged your clit, and began moving gently in and out of you. Pain came first, as it always did, but quickly gave way to pleasure as his cockhead kissed your cervix with each thrust, and the girth of his cock filled you deliciously. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and nuzzled against you with a content hum. When you finally managed to contain your squirming to the occasional buck of hips and tensing of abs, he released his hold around you and brought his hand up to card his fingers through your hair. He took a fistful and pulled gently, and you moaned in reply.

He found a comfortable pace for you and settled into it, moving quickly, but gently, providing just the right amount of friction inside of you. Paired with the slow, almost lazy attention to your clit, it took no time at all for the embers of arousal to ignite in your core, burning low, but hot.

You closed your eyes and released a small whine, to which he responded with a groan of pleasure.

“You always feel so good… You hold me just right, pet.”

“Master…” you breathed as your walls clenched around him tightly. “I’m close… Please fill me. Please, Master.”

He pressed his lips to your temple and you felt him smirk as he placed a gentle kiss there. Wordlessly, he picked up the pace, and water splashed over the edge of the tub. Strong waves carried the peonies over as well, until it was just you and your master in the tub, with him thrusting into you hard. Your breathing picked up as the coil in your stomach tightened and tightened ready to spring. Your master groaned again, and his cock was hot inside of you. With each growl he let past his teeth, your climax came closer and closer, with each moan and whine, the spring tightened, until he was panting in your ear as he fucked you and you were milking his cock with your walls. 

“Oh god… Master… I’m gonna cum. Please can I cum?”

“Fuck, yes…” he breathed. “Cum for me sweetheart. Milk me.”

His breath was hot on the shell of your ear, and you cried out as your climax tore through your body. You tried to arch your back, but his arms were wound tightly around you, holding you fast.

“Fuck… fuck,” you swore as you felt him still, pushing hard against your cervix. 

Pleasure clouded your vision as he thrust farther inside, forcing his cockhead to open your cervix and push into your womb. The edges of your vision darkened as his cock throbbed, unloading thick ribbons of hot cum directly into your thirsty uterus. He growled loudly as his climax overtook him, and he held you so tightly you almost couldn’t breathe. Still you came, waves of pleasure washing over you in time with the throbbing of his thick cock. 

You could feel it moving inside of you, pulsing, and the warmth of his cum seemed almost hotter than the water around you. You squeezed your eyes shut to stop the room from spinning and rested a hand over your stomach. It began to grow beneath your palm as your womb filled with his seed, stretching to accommodate as he filled you with more and more, until you were bulging and braindead. All you could think was “Yes, Daddy, yes!” as your stomach swelled like a balloon, spurring your orgasm on.

After what seemed like ages, your master let out a whine and sucked in a deep breath. He relaxed back and you fell, limp, on top of him. Your hand slid from your stomach, which was so large, the top of it sat well above water-level. One of his strong hands replaced your own, and he rubbed soft, comforting circles over your swollen belly, soothing the taut skin there and bringing you down from your orgasm.

You couldn’t move, and as you gasped for air, you became very aware of his cock still nestled firmly inside of your cervix. 

“M-master…” you whined. 

“Hush, darling.”

A moan escaped your lips when he shifted to get more comfortable, and he chuckled.

“I know, darling. Doesn’t it feel nice?”

You nodded. “Mmm… feels nice…”

“Good, we’re going to stay here for a while, okay?”

You nodded again and he kissed your temple once more. 

“My good pet. My sweet little cum-hungry toy,” he purred. “You and I are firmly knotted together, aren’t we?” he mused. “Well, that’s no trouble to me. It looks like we’re just going to have to stay here until I soften enough to pull out of you.”

You whined.

“B-but..”

“But I’m never soft?” he smirked. “Yes, I suppose that could be a problem… for you.”

He settled in, holding you and stroking your big belly with a smile on his red lips as you clenched around him. Each movement he made was a mix of agony and ecstasy, and you couldn’t stop your walls from reacting in kind. It wasn’t long until he was hard again, filling you full with his cock, stretching you wonderfully. He was inside of you fully, every last inch of him, and he used this rare opportunity to his advantage, rutting into you gently.

While your eyes drooped and sleep tugged at the back of your mind, he used your body to pleasure himself. You didn’t complain. He felt amazing, and the spring in your core was tightening again. You would do anything for your master, including remaining thoroughly stuck on him so that he could use and fill you as he pleased. You sighed and relaxed back. There was no fight in you, not that you wanted to fight it anyway. You smiled as he moved inside of you. It was your purpose in life to please him. You were, after all, his good pet.

His sweet little cum-hungry toy.

[natalievoncatte]

Content/Trigger Warning: Violence and blood

They must have used chloroform or some other trick to knock her out. Lena almost got away. Flickers of sorcerous power -raw, unrefined, deadly in their chaotic wrath- sparked between her fingers and screamed in her bones. If she’d been more alert, if she hadn’t been be checking her phone because Kara hasn’t answered about seventeen calls and half again many texts, Lena might have blown her attacker through a wall, electrocuted the flesh from their bones, or boiled their brain in its box.

Instead they snapped a black bag over her head and she woke up here. She instantly knew that she was below ground; the magical currents in the earth were frustratingly close but cut off somehow. Reaching for them was like grabbing at a wriggling fish coated in oil.

As awareness flooded back in, she knew why: the heavy iron collar around her neck, a Luthor family relic for which one of her ancestors had paid a deathly price. A witch-collar, inscribed with hellish runes.

The bag came away from her head and she looked around. She was in a chair in a basement room, in a disused part of the family wine cellar. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision.

Everything was red. It took her a moment to realize the room was bathed in red light from banks of lamps all around her, all around them.

Kara lay a few yards away, curled up on the floor, bundled up in a ball. She was in her cheer uniform, her golden hair turned bronze in the strange light and her skin bruised and filthy from the rough stone floor.

That shouldn’t be… how…

Lena jumped when a nearby speaker on a table chirped with Lex’s voice.

“Hello, Lena.”

“Lex?” she snapped. “What is this? What the hell are you doing?”

“Teaching you a hard lesson,” he said. “You’ve been rolling in the dirt long enough. Father won’t have it, and he left it to me to put a stop to it.”

“Put a stop to what?”

“You’ve been rutting… if you can call it that… with that thing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lena lied, her desperation betraying her. “Take this collar off and I’ll heal her and we’ll hope she keeps quiet about…”

“She killed one of the men I sent to take her,” said Lex. “Ripped his throat right out.”

Lena froze. “It’s not… she’s not…”

“Like that?” said Lex. “Like all the other ones? No, she’s not. At first I couldn’t fathom how she walks in daylight… but it was a simple matter to discern what wavelengths she’s sensitive to. Once I did, all I had to do was lock her up with a little of her home ambiance.”

Oh God. The lamps.

Lena rushed to where Kara lay, almost scraping her knees in the process. She rolled the other girl over and found Kara emaciated and corpselike, her skin waxy and sallow and her eyes sunken, her beauty somehow undiminished.

“I hate you,” Lena choked out “I hate you, Lex. You fucking bastard.”

“I know. You’ll get over it. Look there.”

A few feet away, a sharpened wooden stake lay on the stone tiles.

Oh no. Oh God no, not this.

“Kill her. Destroy this creature and affirm your loyalty and the collar comes off. You may think you’re powerful, but you’re not, Lena. Father has the true power here.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m going to turn off the lamps. She’s wounded and blood-starved. It’s kill her or be killed.”

“I’d rather die.”

“So be it.”

The lamps went out with a thump, others coming on in the same instant, in the normal, cold light of the old lamps that glowed down here beneath the mansion.

Kara stirred. She rolled onto her side, then her hands and knees, and rose up to kneel. A long, rasping sound escaped her lips, half sigh and half death rattle. She looked at Lena.

“He’s right. I don’t think I can control it.”

The words came out malformed around the retractable fangs jutting from her gums. The soft red glow of her eyes swallowed the blue of her irises and she seemed lost, staring.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’d never.”

Kara swallowed, rasping against a dry throat.

“Take it.”

“No.”

Kara looked at her plaintively, then darted across the cellar on all fours, grabbing the stake herself.

“Kara, don’t!”

“This is the only way.”

Lena bolted, crashing into Kara, heedless of impaling herself on the jagged wood. Kara forced her back, holding the stake in one hand.

“Not much time left,” Kara rasped. “Mind fading. Hunger always wins. Love you, Lee. Love you always.”

“DON’T,” Lena screamed. Kara pressed a kiss to her lips, soft, cold, her lips as dry as paper and seemingly as brittle.

The stake bit through her chest with a sickening dry crack as she shoved with both hands, groaning. She toppled beside Lena, both of them lying on the floor, and went still.

Lena felt as if it had pierced her own chest, as though her own heart were torn out. The wild magic in her surged and churned, longing to make a connection with the ancient power in the stones beneath her body, but the collar refused her. She wailed, shaking Kara’s limp, emaciated form as if to wake her up.

The next thing she heard was the heels of Lex’s shoes on the stones as he walked into the room.

“How tragic. I suppose she had actual feelings for you, after all.”

Lena threw herself at him, fingers hooked for his eyes, but he shoved her aside and she fell to the ground with a grunt.

“If you’d been more cooperative about all this, I might have let you keep her as a pet. No matter. After you’ve finished your training, love will have about as much meaning to you as it does to me.”

“I’ll never be like you.”

Lex stood over her, grinning. “Oh, you will.”

He reached down and took hold of the collar, and Lena cried out in agony as he pulled, using the cold iron to drag her to her feet. Then she went still.

With an abrupt jerk, Kara sat up, her movements strangely sharp and inhuman. She rose to her feet, the stake still embedded in her chest, impaled through the Midvale High Ranger on the chest of her leotard. She looked at Lex and smiled.

“What the fuck,” he snarled, immediately turning for the door. “Otis! Otis get in here! Kill it!”

Kara dragged him back, throwing him to the floor. She grasped the stake and pulled, dragging it from her chest and casting it to the floor.

“I am Kryptonian,” she hissed. “I am as far beyond your weakling Terran vampires as they are beyond you. Did you really think I could be killed with a stick?”

“Otis!” Lex screamed, “Otis, get in here!”

“Otis won’t be joining us,” Alex said. Kara’s sister strode into the room, Otis’s blood still on her chin and hands. “I’m afraid he had a prior engagement. My family and I had him for dinner.”

“Oh fuck,” Lex muttered.

Feral and lean and predatory, Kara stalked towards him.

“You hurt my Lena,” she said, her voice barely a breathless whisper.

Then she stopped and looked at Lena.

Lena stood there for a broken moment, staring at her brother, expecting to feel pity or confusion or at least some kind of conflict, but she felt as empty as he always said she would.

“Do it,” said Lena. “Then get this fucking thing off me. I’m going to kill his father tonight.”

Fangs bared, Kara lunged. Lena turned away. Alex didn’t.

When it was over, Kara smeared the last dregs of Lex on the back of her arm, and when she tore apart the collar, Lena seized from her a feral kiss, savoring the prick of fangs on her burning lips.

[gabessquishytum]

Ive been lurking for a long time just eating other peoples ideas but i cant get over sleazy pickup artist hob having this religious pussy experience from this weird goth he met at a bar just standing there silently like a mannequin. I would love it if dream was only this unearthly beauty to HOB. Literally NOBODY ELSE gets why this crying wet cat bewitched him body and soul... hob is a total conman on the internet manosphere bc he looks like Alpha Male and he just says some bullshit he makes up on the fly and starts pyramid schemes. He stumbles out of that hookup dazed and confused but feeling like he needs to buy a ring and perhaps commission a golden statue. Hes Different after. Like his accounts drop off activity for a good long while as he tries so desperately to find this Weird Fucking Guy hes not quite sure was human at this point and when people start noticing what hes doing hes an absolute laughing stock but hes too busy pulling all nighters red strings on the corkboard to care hes like an obsessed mad scientist in a monster movie. He goes to that bar EVERY NIGHT. For 100 days. Then his magnificent stranger walks back in and orders a glass of milk at the bar and hob is ready to simp for the rest of his fucking LIFE. Morpheus is this guys Actual Name and hob realizes he could have just like,, looked him up online if he believed morpheus when he told him the next morning then left while hob was in the shower. But dream shares that he doesn't have social media. Or a computer. Or a phone. He pulls out this ancient flip phone held together with scotch tape and willpower so hob can enter his number. He types with one index finger on hobs screen to enter his own. Hob is gifted his presence for another night of insane sex where he almost dies like twice and comes more times in a row than he has in his life. Dream is completely unaffected by literally any media attention and No One Gets The Appeal. Hes like a cryptid and everyone knows who HOB is seemingly BUT dream and he really doesnt care about any of the questions he gets. Usually just responds with some shit like "you could be learning a new hobby right now. Try oil painting, perhaps the clarinet." Its not even beer goggles bc hob is following after this freak like a puppy in the middle of the afternoon wearing all black and a long jacket in August while he picks out the specific peanuts from a big barrel he would like to feed the birds at the park today.

-🔪

Yeah I absolutely love the idea that Dream is a weird skinny gremlin to EVERYONE. Except for Hob. Hob thinks he's an angel, a beautiful ethereal creature, Dream has literally saved Hob’s soul from the torments of cringey redpill internet content. Hob walks around with heart eyes 24/7, basically waits on Dream hand and foot. He doesn't give a shit if he gets ripped on online - he doesn't go online anymore, he's way too busy staring at the way the light filters into Dream’s eyes.

He's so down bad for Dream’s pussy it's almost comedic. He'll get on his knees and bed to be allowed just a sniff, just a moment with his nose between Dream’s legs. He'd buy Dream’s bath water but he's so lucky he doesn't even have to!!! He gets it for free!!!

All this to say: they're both freaks, no body gets why they're Like That but true love finds a way!