#makes it a pain in the ass when I need to keep readjusting my settings to be visible tho lmfao

[ghostblogging]

I'm so tiiiirrrreeedd but at least I look hot

[tranquilpetrichor]

take a break | ch. 2

synopsis: your ankle injury is a pain in the ass, but you find an unexpected source of comfort in a developing friendship with a teammate.

cast: ni-ki (enhypen) x reader ft. gunwook (zb1), soul (p1harmony), more to come

genre: dancer!au, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, f2l

wc: 2.6k (2,677)

chapter warnings: mentions of injury, cursing, one joke about wanting to shit from fear

a/n: holy shit i'm just as sleepy as yn is here please do not follow our example. praying there aren't many typos. the lesson here? don't write when sleepy.

prev | masterlist | next

finished with another day of school, you sit at home on your computer, attempting to do one more assignment so that you can think about something other than schoolwork.

eventually, you complete the last problem on the paper, and reward yourself by sitting on your bed. time to be lazy, you suppose.

you’re still surprised about your small, but meaningful interaction with ni-ki from the other day. shit, maybe your half-formed impression on his character, mostly formed by anecdotes from friends, was all wrong.

he’d actually texted you a couple times throughout the day, checking up on you and sending various videos (mostly dance ones) he enjoyed.

(of course, you always make sure to respond with texts expressing your gratitude. it was the least you could do for him.)

and you live vicariously through those videos, imagining that you're the one turning and flipping, even though your present physical state limits you from being able to fly like you knew you could.

it's painfully bittersweet to be so close to your craft, and yet so far. having feelings of jealousy seem inevitable.

patience, y/n. injuries don't heal overnight.

despite your sadness, you had to find the good somehow. it wasn't fair to mope around and be sad while everyone else worked hard. you decide to call your friend hikaru (who also happened to be on your dance team) and see how she was doing—hopefully she was available.

unsurprisingly, she took the call in a matter of seconds, her cheery voice ringing through the speaker.

"hi y/n! are you at home right now?"

you sigh. "yeah. just finished a nasty set of math problems, and i needed a break."

"ouch. well, you always know that i'll be here if you need anything! how's your ankle?"

you look over at your theraband, neatly situated next to your dance bag. "eh, i'm doing my best with physical therapy but not being able to dance is such a drag. at least the injury isn't getting worse."

"that's good! just keep resting—and i know you'll be shaking your head at me, i know you too well. but you need rest."

she pauses for a second or two, and then starts speaking again. "oh, yea, i'm curious. was that ni-ki talking with you the other day at practice?"

you readjust your sitting position and respond. "mhm. said he likes my notes and wants to talk to me more. i'm surprised, he's texted me a couple of times in these past 2 days alone and sent me dance videos—it's improved my mood quite a bit."

"ah, that's actually kinda cute," hikaru says.

"maybe he likes you," she adds afterwards, teasingly.

you roll your eyes, that girl always wants to be a matchmaker. "okay, hikaru. and pigs can fly."

even over the phone, you can picture her excited face. "i'm just saying! he really does seem to care about you."

another pause. "look, putting my teasing aside, i'm glad other people support you too, y/n. just don't ever forget it."

if she were here, you know you’d give her a proper hug right about now. "i won't. thanks for everything, bestie."

she laughs. "of course, and you can thank me by paying for a meal sometime."

with the typical banter between you two alive and well, you feel at least some sense of normalcy in your life.

the next day, you go to dance practice wishing you'd packed something for extra energy. you're yawning every few minutes and slapping yourself up to stay awake throughout the car ride to your studio. nevertheless, you show up 10 minutes early, notebook in hand, and prepare to get more work done.

you'd say you have a pretty good idea of everyone's habits when it came to arriving late, early or on the dot.

some people, like gunwook and hikaru, are already present, as you predicted beforehand, while others, like ni-ki, will show up about 2 minutes before practice is set to start. how he's comfortable doing that, you have no idea.

he waves to you shyly when he does come in, greeting you with a small "hi", and you wave back with a smile. almost everyone is present now, doing some pre-warmup stretches or just sitting and talking.

the booming voice of your director interrupts your thoughts. "alright, time for warmups!"

everyone shuffles around the room to find their happy spot as you stretch your arms gently toward the sky.

at one point, gunwook shoots you a concerned look that seems to ask “are you good?". however, you reassure him that you're fine with a thumbs up.

as you figure would be the case, he doesn't believe you and tosses you an extra energy bar during break, saying "you look as energetic as me during english class, go eat," before he goes to your director to ask a question.

you find your head threatening to slump forward, and you reach for your water, hoping it'll alleviate your drowsiness.

it helps a bit, and you just tell yourself that you'll get through this next hour, mostly because you're stubborn.

you watch the rest of the rehearsal without falling asleep, which you consider a win. but now you’re hungry, and a hungry y/n is never a fully productive one. you open your notebook, and realize just how uncharacteristically messy your notes were from today.

i should rewrite those... but that's for later.

after practice ends, you decide to get a snack at a nearby cafe that you like. since you can't drive as of right now (another thing you were annoyed about), it's your mom that takes you there.

you use this time to take a brief power nap, and although it's not the same as getting a proper night of sleep, it's something.

"be careful," your mom says, opening the door as you step out with your crutches. "i'll order something too—ugh. god knows i need a coffee."

you suppress a yawn and cautiously make your way over the curb. "alright, mom."

you enter the cafe, which isn't completely empty but also not too crowded. instinctively your eyes scan around, and you spot ni-ki at a table, already eating some type of dessert. he was here too?

you feel a little shy (mostly because you're with your mom) and avert your gaze, but he notices you, a look of surprise on his face.

"y/n?"

you look back at him, equally as surprised. "what a coincidence, didn't think i'd be seeing you here."

"uh, same. i've been here a couple times."

"you didn't tell me about this friend," your mom whispers, giving you a side eye. "i thought i finally knew about all of them."

you groan. telling your parents about stuff was always one of your least favorite things to do. "well, forgive me, but it was a recent friendship."

"oh, is that your mom?" ni-ki asks you politely.

"yep, it is."

"uh, hi ms. l/n. i'm nishimura riki, but everyone just calls me ni-ki," he says, giving her a small wave of the hand.

she smiles. "ah, nice to meet another friend of y/n's."

you look back and forth between the two. usually, your friends ended up meeting your parents when you already had a well-developed friendship, not when you had just started talking a few days ago.

the counter to order is empty, so you ask your mom if you can go over. "mom, what did you want to order? i can get it for you."

"it's alright. i'll order for you, i'm sure you'd want to talk with your friend, after all!"

your mouth widens slightly in surprise. "okay, then. i'll get the chocolate açaí bowl and a medium peach iced tea."

ah, parents. they lived to embarrass you sometimes, especially in front of people you knew.

well, it's not like you were in a rush to go anywhere. you carefully sit down across from ni-ki, setting your crutches behind your chair.

"so, how was practice for you today?" he asks.

you groan unintentionally. "honestly? i wanted to curl up and sleep. and then now i'm hungry."

he raises a single eyebrow. "bruh. you didn't bring anything to eat?"

"forgot. i usually remember, but i've felt off today."

okay, maybe you had slept a little late yesterday, but you didn't think it would be that much of a problem. it was necessary to prevent a backlog of tasks to do, you couldn't stand going to sleep knowing there were still things to complete.

ni-ki shrugs, and extends a spoon towards you. "i guess we all have our off days. oh yeah, do you want part of this pastry?"

you look at the chocolate-filled treat in front of you, your stomach doing more of the thinking than anything else. it couldn't hurt to eat a lot.

ugh, is there a word for being hungry and sleepy?

"oh," you respond rather abruptly, realizing you'd been thinking for a couple seconds too long. any longer, and you'd be off in dreamland. "sure. thanks again. chocolate is always a guilty pleasure of mine."

"no problem," he says with a tiny grin. "well... i'm curious. you like chocolate, but what do you think about mint chocolate?"

you pause to consider your answer. "it's alright. i wonder if anyone could convince me to order it, though. i usually just go for plain chocolate. why, are you the mint chocolate enjoyer?"

"of course. it's the superior ice cream flavor," he replies with a grin.

you shudder slightly. "people like you scare me."

just then, your mom comes back, setting a tray on the table. she grabs a croissant stored in a paper bag and her coffee, leaving the rest of the food for you.

"i'll be in the car, let me know if you need anything," she says, giving you a knowing glance that seemed to say 'i should leave you kids alone to have fun.'

"got it, i should be fine, but thank you."

you look back at her briefly as she walks towards the door, a sheepish grin on your face. "oh god, that was embarrassing. i didn't think you'd meet her so soon..."

"i know the feeling. whenever my parents asked to meet my friends, i almost wanted to shit in my pants from fear, haha. it's not like my friends are bad people, i didn't know if everyone would get along, you know."

you cackle, hoping the two employees working the counter don't care too much. "damn. that's some descriptive imagery..."

he scratches the back of his neck, probably out of embarrassment. "too much?"

you roll your eyes with a smile. "it was funny, so i'll let you off the hook."

swept up in conversation, you almost forget about the fact that you actually have more food to eat, but as always, your stomach serves as a reminder.

you stare at the bowl in front of you and pick up the spoon beside it. "oh yeah, i'd better dig in. this place has good food."

eager to satisfy your hunger, you start eating. the açaí bowl tastes as good as it usually did, but admittedly, all food seems to taste amazing when you're starving.

in any case, you're certainly in a better state of mind now. if you really thought about it, you could attribute part of it to food, and part of it to being here with a friend. the two of you continue to talk, and that's how you end up learning some more interesting facts about him.

these include things like his favorite color (black), his dog's name (bisco), and favorite season (spring). he even shows you some photos of bisco on his phone.

you can't help but comment. "aww, your dog is so cute! i wish i had one."

he laughs, swiping to a video of him playing with the dog.

"thanks, bisco's a little dumb sometimes, but adorable. he's growing pretty fast... time flies, i guess."

"it really does."

he's smiling at his photo gallery, and unintentionally, you find yourself smiling too. in the back of your mind, you make it your goal to meet bisco one day—you'd like to think you're popular with animals.

only when you finally look at your own phone do you realize how much time you've spent conversing with ni-ki—it's been over half an hour. by now, you've finished your food and drink, and feel ready to leave.

"i'm surprised my mom isn't yelling at me to come out," you say, carefully cleaning up the table. "although, i should probably go home anyways. where's your ride?"

"my sister's coming, she's actually a few minutes away." he holds up an app that you presume it's a location tracker. "yea, everyone in our family has this to keep track of where we are."

you nod, glancing at the moving dot that was indeed on a nearby street. "alright, i see. i just didn't want to leave you here alone."

he looks surprised, which you didn't quite expect, but a second later, his expression is nonchalant. "nah, i'll be fine, no worries."

"well, if you say so."

you stand up slowly, reaching for your crutches and positioning them so that you could start walking. even now, it was frustrating to think about how the smallest things, like a carpet or a slightly slippery floor, could impede your progress.

and usually, you'll power walk everywhere, but of course, you're in no state to do that just yet. you need to learn how to rely on yourself again and adapt to the situation.

ni-ki walks beside you silently, and somehow, you're less worried. of course, you're still cautious about walking, but it's nice to have someone near you in case of an emergency.

by the time you reach the door, ni-ki's already opened it. the act is surprising, but welcome nonetheless, considering how often people don't hold the door open anyways.

"thanks," you say with a smile.

"see you at practice?"

you nod, looking at your mom's car. "yeah, see you there. stay safe!"

"roger that," he says, as you make your way across the pavement.

you open the car door, swinging it as far wide as you can, and situate yourself against the car but facing away from it. like you learned from your physical therapist, you put both crutches in your right hand, holding on tightlyi

you reach out with your left hand, using the dashboard as support, and carefully lower yourself onto the car seat. you swing your left leg into the car, followed by your right.

at least i can do that on my own.

your mom greets you with a smile.

"well, you stayed out longer than i expected you to. but you're talking to people, that's good."

"mom, i'm not a hermit."

she starts up the car and slowly backs out of the parking space.

"i know, honey. but i sleep well at night knowing you have good friends. life's quite harsh sometimes, but you don't have to be alone in that struggle."

you nod in understanding. she definitely understands a lot more about life than you do.

if only you had your mom's wisdom all the time. you've never wanted to burden others with your problems, hoping that you could shoulder them yourself instead of having people take pity on you.

your mother had once said pride was your "double-edged sword". how right she was.

"yeah, ni-ki's been kind to me," you say, recalling all the texts he's sent you, how accommodating of your injury he's been.

although i'm not entirely sure why.

from the time you've spent with him, you see bits and pieces of the easygoing jokester he's known as, but you also have been exposed to his moments of sincerity. you wonder why you haven't tried to befriend him before.

maybe it'll take a while for you to understand him more, but that just made the thought of seeing him at practice all the more exciting.

feeling your eyes start to droop, you drift off to sleep. you'll think more about all this later.

taglist: @luvistqrzzz @restlessmaknae

[cent-scratchnsniff]

ramblings of a mad man that has attempted day 46 mostly for archival purposes? Sploilers obviously. If you do read though Hiii! Thank you for doing so. I'm having so much fun playing this

Includes: Apologizing to the screen for deaths caused by my ineptitude, tembling hands, pie?, apoc bird for some god damned reason it just kinda happens??, body count at 9, my favorite child (abomination) now with 12 ego gifts total, PALE DAMAGE???, and more

It took 2 hours total because of me being nervous. I love coffee

im scared. ive just been stat and gift grinding day 41-45 for the past few hours of the game. everyone is above 100 fortitude. there is three people per department at the least currently (excluding safety and training). about 5 aleph inside my facility but it honestly isnt that bad. two sets of gear for all due to being done with disciplinary's core suppression which ive done all of them so far actually.

WHY THE HELL DID IT MAKE ME PICK TWO. WHY DID IT MAKE ME PICK TWO (soon found out why it made me pick two.) i got big bird and wall gazer. terrified to re extract so i didnt. was thinking of mem rep after just doing apoc bird for that sweet sweet beautiful gear for my favorite little agent (maxim) but decided that i should at least try the day in its enirety.

WHY IS THE DEPARTMENT SO GOD DAMN MASSIVEM FICK. WHY IS THERE 8 SLOTS!!! I DIDNT KNOW THIS!!!! I didnt get any spoilers for mechanics day 45 and onward PLEASE KEEP IT LIKE THAT. SHHH. im honestly so so SO excited. I love feeling challenged. i love feeling the despair that comes up from knowing that it isnt just simply repetition anymore to where it loops back to insane laughter and a blooming joy i havent felt in my body for ages.

... i did not account for the fact architecture team would need agents when training though

Maxim (beloved) and Mary (got the 2% gift from nothing there?? when did that happen. go off girl boss) got moved down to there. I LOVE LOB POINTS!!! RAUGHHHH

twas at this moment i realized the meltdowns were going to be facility wide again. oh god. oh YES!!!

CHRIST THE DEPARTMENT IS MASSIVE WHAT THE HELLLLL it did not go where i thought it would the hallways are so LONG and it was at this moment i also realized big bird was a clerk lover as well. yes. put big bird in the department with the LONGEST HALLWAYS KNOWN TO MAN!!!! Goodness Gracious. Doing typical works, hoping for gifts but at this point everyone is level V (except for melendez his fotitude is V though hes just on train duty (i had the fuck ass train in central since day 27)) and EX on fotitude and most other stats. the newer hires had been positioned in record and Extraction for a bit. record is just alephs. and one teth tool. Blue star, nothing there, the silent orchestra. ow. extraction is actually rather chill? the one painting tool, CENSORED (okay not chill i just dont touch it because its a pain to wait for sanity to get back up and i already got the weapon), little red, and king of greed.

white dawn with dawn WHITE DAWN!!!

WHY THE FUCK IS THERE FIXERS IN MY GOD DAMN FACILITY!!! WHO SENT MERCS ON MY ASS!!!!!

lmao nvmd aint shit

IT CAUSED THE WHOLE DEPARTMENT TO HAVE A MELTDOWN!!!!

bella. bella lobe of my life. please. please get a normal with the pink lamma. PLEASE GET A NORMAL WITH THE LAMMA. BELLA!!!!! BELLLAAA!!!!!!!!

im cooked its getting iut isnt it

YEAHHHHH BELLA SWEEP WE ARE ALL FINE

Was worried about the mirror of readjustment (?) melting down and if there was a new mechanic about it and if i NEEDED to resolve meltdowns like in binah's but nope. its fine. tools arent a problem still.

WHY IS ALL AROUND HELPER OUT? WHAT?? its nota. big problem oj its own BUT HOW!!!! ITS IN SAFETY TEAM ORDEAL SPAWNED INSIDE DISCIPLINARY!?!? almost forgot this was categorized as a core suppression so sephirah communication is down. hold on. looking at logs

??? ??? okay it looks like it was just always normal work. guys. you have attatchment over 100 or 100. why are tou getting NORMAL on ALL AROUND HELPER for REPRESSION WORK. im disappointed. not mad but just a bit disappointed. mods(agents). ban it

thinking about it. if dawn is WAW already . whats going to happen next. what level is going to happen when noons activates

just doin typical works rn. nothing special. gotta get to noon

?!?!?!??! WHO KEEPS SENDING FIXERS INTO THE COMPANY TO KILL ME. but also WAW its okay. ..... What do you mean its immune to white damage. most of central control 1 is WHITE DAMAGE DEALERS

WHY IS THER E TWO OF THEM!!!!! WHY IS THE OTHER ONE RED!!!!

HILT SHIT WHAT. OH MY GOD WHATHF holy shit . uhm. mosb is going to breach. uhhh dubbed mosb bully pair go juggle it for a bit

shit how did they die. im sorry. whatm fffffff ukckk. WHY IS VERA DEAD. oh when the white fixer goes down to pray it. does. red damage.... (my ass thought it was only white) fuckin religious ass.

WHY ARE YOU AIMING UP!! oh okay just go ahead and do a circle. uh huh. mhm. yupm just a god damn circle.

WHAT THE HELL!!! WHAT

okay MY bad it was a PIE.

shittttttt theyre dead. ahh im so sorry my ineptitude caused you all to die... .. .

. . . . Erm. okay. uhm. mosb and little red are out. AND BIG BIRD JUST NOTICED RIGHT AFTER!! christ.

mosb suppressioned. easy as FUCK dude it isnt shit. little red was also done, sent maxim over to help (has mimicry gear so red damage wasnt a problem).

errmmmmmmm game plan. kill all clerks at the start of the day via execution. i feel bad but they will die regardless so its better to get it out of the way

... oh dear.

Big bird is still out. i need to check on train and even tools like train count towards punishing bird's qliphoth going down. I KNOW I MENTIONED TO PEOPLE BEFORE THAT APOC BIRD WOULD BE GREAT. BUT NOT RIGHT NOW!!!! WE HAVE A SITUATION!!!!!

you knowbehay. days fucked anyways. here birdy birdy

ITS STARTING oh god.

didnt type for this but judgement bird egg was dealt with. it spawned in Disciplinary while punishing bird egg is inside extraction and big bird's is inside information. i moved at least one employee per hallway (save for the few like control team only having ppodae or how ever you spell it to escape or info only having fire bird to escape.) going to small bird egg since its closer

.... fuuckkkk burrowing heaven is out i got anxious about everything else i forgot. melendez im sorry . agh i need to send someone else into that hallway. no problems when it comes to meltdowns also happening but i need someone there for train specifically since out resident babysitter is deceased

RED IS ALSO OUT. BTWM AHAHAHAHAH!!! AH. A. RED IS IN EXTRACTION. AHAH. i sent maxim and Courtney (red damage dealers that cant help with the egg) over there to try and help the agent being targeted which was positioned in the hallway. i think they might die (agent targeted) but i donthave any bullets left. im sorry ahh

THEY LIVED!!! THEY LIVED!!!! OH GOOD JOB!!!! SPLENDED WORK . second problem censored had. meltdown twice in a row but the sanity wasnt healed enough to i needed to send someone else it during that scuffle

second egg down!!! no casualties on that part so far (besides burrowing heaven which also got suppressed while the rest were working on the scuffle. im not counting burrowing heaven . . .) possessed are a bit of a problem but other than that everything was covered so far and nothing else got out. yeahhhh!!! nice work so far (i say as im talking to the screen of video game pawns)

APOC BIRD DOWN!! yeah that honestly wasnt bad at all tbh. its just violet midnight but some mechanics moved around so it wasnt hard. just a lot to manage. okay it guess thay counts as 'hard' i think im looking for the word 'overwhelming'? which it hadnt been. .... okay it isnt violent midnight at that point BUT the concept of seperate stationary entities that need to be suppressed while having to dance around aspects that you cant directly attack that does damage still stands. neither are too miserable. i actually like violet midnight over amber midnight. WHEN IT ISMT HOKMA'S SUPPRESSION AND I HAVE PAUSE!!!!

forgot vincent died. sorry vincent. ermm okay hoon go up there for me please

my favorite child. my lovely abomination. i shall have to draw you later. but for now back on track I STILL HAVE WHITE DUSK AND MIDNIGHT TO DO!!!!

well good news all the clerks are dead so we dont need to have a mosb (mountain of smiling bodies), big bird, or black swam problem. bad news. uhm. everything else that happened so far. i dont think ive had an agent casualty rate this high since my first midnight. and i had done mem rep after to bring them back. suprisingly binah wasnt that bad (final successful try at least I HAD MULTIPLE WIPES BEFORE I ACRUALLY WENT IN WITH A PLAN UNDERSTANDING ALL MECHANICS) . we arent even done yet. sighhh (only five are dead so far im scared. im not even done yet. thats screwed up.)

i might continue if it goes well. +7 stats to EVERYONE is super good. greed...

i got reloads on bullets. cleeerrrkkksss pspspsp. thank you for surviving this long but you shall need to die for the good of the group. uhm. why is there more than three. WHY ARE YOU STILL ALIVE. THERES ANOTHER ONE??? WHATVTHEBFHEPL

fusk. dusk. good lord. i hope. i HOPE dusk is still a WAW. if its aleph i will scream in teror and then laugh maniacally in joy. probably not sane at that point but AW HELL YEAH!!?!?! okay it started. WHATBTHEBFUCK WHY ISBTHERE FOUR. four total. four. PALE DAMAGE? why are you PALE.

okay sorry locked in for that its over. four dead the panicked were recovered. big and will be bad wolf got out somehow? i think the black fixer ends up messing with the qliphoth in the hall when still alive as it also sets qliphoth meltdowns after death. so qliphoth mechanics wouldnt be too far off. i sent little red after him though so i just maneuvered the rest of my agents around that fight. happened while still supressing the other four. courtney tanked red fixer. even if she didnt do damage she still took the brunt of the attacks with mimicry so thank you courtney that was very helpful. PALE FIXER CAN JUST FUCKIN TELEPORT PKAY??? went over with white fixer when the ganf was beating the shit of of them. not good. they lived though! the only casualties at thay point was my carelessness with black fixer for one(?) and the rest came from pale fixer. sorry.... 3 dead total then. why is everything i have white damage btw. really bad. really really bad i need to fix that.

refill of bullets for midnight thank you. couldnt find it at first but the odreal (CLAW??? CLAW?????!?!?) is in central command department 2 on the top most floor. grouped everyone up before hand and then sent them in. WHY IS HE RESISTANT TO EVERYTHING. WHY. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DONT BE ANOTHER BINAH I KNOW YOURE BOTH RELATED TO THE HEADBBIT PLEASEE!!!! DONT HAVE A SEXOND PHASE FOR AN ORDEAL THAT WOULD BE SCREWED UP!!!!?!?!

WHY IS THERE MARKERS ON MY EMPLOYEES

nvmd that was. so fucking easy? literally got stun locked after the gang just dog piled him. less than a minute. about 30 seconds on 2x speed. BUT ITS OVER!!!!!!

surprisingly good rating score. body count is at 9 but everyone did a good job. now for the story

AHGHHGEGBGKGIJMENGJGOHORJG

wow. okay. erm. glad i did the core suppressions HAHA ohhh god. that got me teary for a bit for some reason. god i love lob corp so so much

[voltagesmutter]

Obey Me x Heat

Obey Me - Diavolo Head-canon.

Prompt: ‘I’m in heat’

Warning: NSFW, Female MC, Priest Kink.

Diavolo:

‘Beast in heat’ is named after Diavolo. The whole of devildom prepares for his heat due it’s length, almost a month long.

The first signs of his heat about to start is he’s incredibly sensitive to smell, his nose buried in the locks of your hair, your skin or even your clothes if you're not around. He will wait outside the shower for you, hands all over your body just to savour your scent as he licks the trickling water droplets from your skin. The second is he always has bedroom eyes, even across a crowded room he can find you with one glance, shooting you that look. Lust in a glossy wax beneath half-lidded eyes meets yours, sending tingles down your spine and directly to yours core, knowing exactly what he plans on doing to you the minute you're alone. The third, and most obvious, is his sex-drive. He is hard constantly, waiting for any given moment to pounce you. 

“Diavolo, here?” You whisper, not putting up much protest as his fingers push past the band of your panties to stroke your wet folds. “Hush little one, no-one will interrupt us if you keep quiet,” He whispers back between kisses to your mouth, his teeth taking your lower lip and giving it a sharp tug as he pushes a finger inside you. You moan in response, gripping onto the collar of his RAD uniform, spreading your legs slightly so he can add another finger. The ruler of demons woke up alone in bed on the first day of heat, storming out to RAD to find you and whisk you away, no one daring to question the mighty ruler as he pulled you into a empty meeting room and locking the door. Three fingers stretching you, your hand wrapped around his thickness already leaking with pre-cum. Pushing you down on the table, fingers pulled from you as he pulled your panties down your legs until they hung off one ankle. His hands gripping your ankles and pull you to the edge, spreading your legs wide and a thrust of his hips has him buried deep inside you. You cry out his name at the sudden thickness inside you, back arching off the table with finger nails scratching lines into it. He felt bigger than normal, pulsing with heat and need inside you as he ruthlessly thrusted into you. He thrusted in, pulled out, thrusted in harder and felt your walls already tremble around him. The foreplay and the sheer size of him bringing you to climax in seconds as you pulsed over him, legs trembling in his hold as he continued to thrust into you. “Shh little one,” He lets out a lowly chuckle to see you so vocal beneath him in such a public area. Freeing one of your ankles he removed your panties, leaning over you and putting them in my mouth in attempt to silence your moans. The grip on your ankles tighten as his pace only picks up, head thrown back in pure bliss as he brings you to climax once more before finding his own. Only instead of slowing after, he continues to thrust, still standing solid and erect inside you. “D-Diavolo!” You whimper, panties soaked from saliva as you try to open your heavy-lidded eyes, unsure if you could take anymore. “One more, I promise just one more,” He whispers, readjusting his grip and removing one hand to circle your clit. Tears falls from the corner of your eyes at the motion, legs shaking violently as the knot inside you tightens again, your third orgasm hitting you as he pounds into you. He thrusts one last time, groaning as he pushes as far as he can inside your squeezing walls to release himself. After a few breathless minutes, Diavolo still standing solid but finally letting you go back to class. He helps sort out your skirt, smirking to see the slick essence of mixed release spilling atop of your thighs thats leaked from out of you. “Now go be a good girl and finish your classes,” Helping to fix your messy hair and flushed face, “I can keep myself busy for a few hours but I’ll come back to find you at lunch, by then I’ll be quiet starving and you are my main meal,”. You walked out of the room, a heavy sigh of relief to see that it was still the first period and no-one would have heard you, or that that you missed much of class. Just as you made it to the room a hand tugs you back, Diavolo pulling you into an embrace, your panties he’d kept shoved in his hand. “I changed my mind, have the day, no the week (it was the month) off, I’m starving now so come back with me and let me have my breakfast in bed,”.

Can be very sadistic when in heat, he loves nothing more to watch you beg to be fucked. Heat is also when he lets his fantasies come to the surface, wanting to indulge in all of them.

“Again” His words sharp and crisp, ringing through the empty chapel.

“I- Forgive me father… I have sinned,” You repeat, unable to see Diavolo as your bent over the service table. 

“And what have you done as such sin?” The feeing of fabric presses against the back of your thighs, the edge of your skirt being pushed up to expose your laced underwear.

“I had- devious thoughts about you, dirty thoughts, lustful thoughts, sinful thoughts,” You reply, breath hitching to feel his hand curve around the globe of your ass.

“And what do you deem as fitting punishment for these sinful actions, hmm? I think a good spanking would do just fine,” Although asked as a question, it’s a statement.

“Please father,” You whisper, cheek pressed against the flat of the table. 

“Say it properly or you shall receive no help to cleanse your sinful ways,” Words as smooth as the devils bow.

“Spank me father, make me see the error of my ways,” Face glowing to hear the dark chuckle behind you, the palm on you now lifted. The sound of skin on flesh contact followed by a gasp fills the chapel, sharp stinging tingles against your skin. He repeats the action a few more times, each time growing in pleasure rather than pain and before soon your mewling at each one.

“This is supposed to be punishment little one,” He hums in disapproval, his other hand slipping under your underwear to trace along your slip, a low growl to feel you so wet.

“I-“ You start but cut off into a moan, two slender fingers thrusting inside you and twisting, sending your mind blank. He continues to curl his fingers grazing over the sponge patch inside you as he spanks you once more, the sensation matching your thighs tremble as you pant heavily.

“D-Diavolo please,” You whisper, needing more, the aching of needing to be filled with something bigger taking over you.

“Tch, do you forget who you speak to?” He teases, slowing his fingering movement, a teasing slap to the side of your ass that made your skin wobble.

“Father- please… please,” You whine, hands grasping the community sewn cloth beneath you. 

“Please what? I do not understand what you need,” He twists his wrist and you cry out in pleasure, unable to hold in the noises as your eyes screw shut.

“Fuck me, fuck me farther please. Please please, fuck me I need you so bad,” You beg, feeling heat within your stomach rise and tighten. Fingers removed causing a heavy whine from your throat, panties pulled down until they drop at your ankles, your knees wedged further apart by his thigh as you feel his erection pressing against your ass. A small trail of wetness presses against your cheek from his leaking cock, slightly ragged breath as he strokes himself to the glistening on your core in front of him, ready and dripping to be filled. He gives it a few more sharp slaps, humming in appreciation to see a slight mark of a red-hand print forming on your skin.

“Fuck me, please, however you want,” You whimper, trying to raise your ass as an offering to press his head against your core, “Please, please just fuck me-“. You don’t finish the last of the sentence, Diavolo grabbing your hips and mercilessly thrusting into you, fucking you to a greater level of pleasure upon the alter of the empty church. He repents your sins whilst adding a thousand more to the list as he brings you to multiple climaxes in ways that would make his own father blush. “Oh god-” You wither, body curling over as the pressure inside you builds more, tears falling freely like a streaming river. A raspy chuckle followed by the sound of intense sound of slapping skin, you’d came so much already each time he thrusted out and back in wetness collected atop of the altar before dripping onto the floor in a shiny puddle, “God can’t save you now little one, there is only me,”. The devil indeed fucking you to mind-numbing overstimulation.

Something primal is released within him to see your core dripping with his essence. 

“Keep them spread for me,” He coo’s, pushing your trembling thighs apart. “Diavolo… no more please,” You whimper, clit twitching at the air hitting you. Your body ached slightly, muscles set alight from the sheer intensity of Diavolos' heat this evening as he had taken you to the brink of insanity with the sheer amount of orgasms you had had. Over-sensitive wasn’t even close to how you felt. “It’s okay,” He reassures you, taking two fingers to spread your folds, eyes a blaze to see the beady white leaking from out of you, “Just stay like that,”. Still in demon form, his champagne orbs glow, fixated on the sight before him. He nestles between your spread thighs, taking his spare hand to jerk himself off to the sight. His hips bucking, growls spewing from his mouth as his eye’s never leave your velvety fold. The sight is self is purely erotic as you watch with beneath your thick lashes, it can’t help but make you wet, gloss of liquid dripping from you spurring him on more to see you aroused at his actions. You call his name, taking one finger to slowly circle your clit, over sensitivity and hips spasming at the first touch. You whimper highly and it takes only a few circles to bring yourself to climax, his earlier releases flooding from you as you pulse over nothing. He ravels at the sight, groaning louder and louder with his twist of his wrist, before finding his release, pushing the head of his cock against your dripping folds and coaxing them once more. 

Lucifer and Beel - Heat

Satan and Leviathan - Heat

Mammon and Asmodeus - Heat

Belphegor -Heat

Obey Me - Masterlist

[lesbobiwan]

AHHH!! Congratulations my dear💖💕 you fucking deserve them all

Could I ask for 11 with Rex?

<3 <3 thank u my love 🥺

#11: "Bite me." "If you insist." + Rex

501 follower special

You can hear his footsteps following after you.

Stars, that self-righteous, stuck up, cocky little shit just doesn't know when to leave you alone!

"I'm not done with you!" Rex calls after you, picking up the pace until he can reach out and snatch your wrist.

"Hey!"

Rex uses his grip to stop you in your tracks and pull you back towards him.

The strength of his yank has you stumbling backwards, nearly busting your ass on the floor, but you right yourself as quick as possible without his help.

"Listen, Captain," you spit, "you might call the shots out there, but in here I'm in charge. You get hurt, I fix it. Understand?"

Rex nose scrunches as his eyes narrow down at you, "I understand that you're flirting with my men. This is a war," he reminds you, as though you don't deal with shrapnel wounds and the like on a daily basis, "not a nightclub. Do your job, medic."

The nerve of this man!

Hot anger rises up your body, curling around your spinal cord and controlling your every move.

"Flirting?" you repeat, absolutely floored. You can't help but step closer to him, jabbing your finger into his chest plate (ow) with your next words, "I don't know where you get off thinking you can treat me like that, but I do know damn well it'll never happen again. I keep your men alive, so you should be thanking me instead of criticizing me."

Rex's hand snatches your wrist before you can poke at him again, and he pulls you so hard that your front is pressed flush against his armor.

You gasp high in your throat, your other hand coming up to curl around his pauldron to steady yourself.

Rex's hand not around your wrist has found a home on the small of your back, fingers digging in just so in a way that has you arching against him.

"You want me to thank you for flirting with my men?" His voice is low and he's so close that you can feel his hot breath fan across your face. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, and your hand readjusts against his shoulder in a way that has nothing to do with keeping balance anymore. "Is that what I'm hearing?"

His fingers tighten against your back, pulling you even tighter to him.

Your anger is sputtering out now, quickly being replaced by a deep set arousal. It's a last ditch effort to stay mad when you spit out, "Bite me."

"If you insist."

Rex's hand leaves your wrist to frame your jaw and tilt your head up as his lips crash down onto yours.

He swallows down your gasp, nipping at your bottom lip before starting to press scalding kisses down your jawline until he's breathing hot against your neck.

Your moan catches in your throat as you tilt your head back, allowing him as much access as he needs.

Rex's teeth scrape against your neck in a goosebump-bringing warning before he sinks his teeth into the junction where your shoulder meets your neck.

The pain that sings along your nerves has you keening, and the sound echos embarrassingly through the less-than-stellar medcamp. You sag against him before your knees can fail you completely.

"Rex," you gasp, finally tugging your hand free from his grasp and raking it through his short cropped hair.

His own hand in your hair tilts your head this way and that, manipulating your neck into what position he likes best to keep trailing bites up your neck.

The hand at the small of your back urges you closer, and one armored thigh slips between your legs.

It's presumptuous and arrogant, and you open your mouth to tell him so, but all that comes out is a ragged moan as you drag your clothed cunt across his thigh plate.

Rex's lips curl into a smile against your neck, "Was that all you needed, huh? Someone to put you in your place?"

"Fuck you," you breathe, still shamelessly rutting against his thigh.

Rex hums, still against your skin, and the vibrations have you gasping. "I think I'd much rather fuck you." His hand leaves your hair and slips down your front until his fingers toy with your waistband.

All at once both of his hands leave you and he steps back.

You nearly buckle without the support of his body holding you up. "Rex," you whine, eyes fluttery and a little damp.

"Bend over."

"What?"

Rex's eyes flick to your desk behind you. "Bend over."

It only takes you a second. One second to make sure Rex isn't fucking with you before you surge into action, shoving anything not essential off and to the floor before you fold yourself over it.

You feel ridiculously exposed like this, bent over and waiting for something.

Rex murmurs something behind you, something like a prayer, before you hear the thunk of his codpiece hitting the ground.

Your breath hitches as footsteps come closer and you jump completely when a hand drags up the back of your thigh.

"Fuck, you're a sight," Rex breathes, and his earlier anger has vanished and been replaced with a certain reverence.

Your cheeks flush at the intimacy. "Are you actually gonna fuck me, or do you just want to watch?" There isn't any of the bite you had wished for. In fact, you sound embarrassingly needy.

Rex huffs but he hooks both hands into the waistband of your pants and underwear, and you lift your hips up to let him drag them down your legs.

You squirm against the desk, hiding your face in the crook of your neck as Rex curses behind you.

The air conditioning of the room has your exposed cunt clenching against the cold.

"Shit," Rex hisses, dragging two fingers down your slit, "You're soaked, pretty girl."

You cant your hips back into him, too desperate to be ashamed.

Arousal curls your toes and you can feel the slick that coats your thighs.

"Captain, if you don't stick your dick in me now, I'll gladly find someone who will," you spit over your shoulder.

There still isn't any genuine bite in your voice, but you still mean what you said.

You're not in the mood for Rex to take it slow. You want to feel the stretch and the burn of his cock pushing inside you.

A sound, low and guttural, escapes Rex's throat, and almost instantly two fingers spread your lips apart.

"I was gonna make this nice for you," Rex pants, one hand holding you open and exposed while the other pulls his cock out of his blacks. "Take it nice and slow and fuck you like you deserved,"

He presses the tip of his cock to your fluttering hole, and your breath catches in your throat at how big it feels.

"But I don't think you deserve nice," Rex continues, pressing just the head inside of you.

Your forehead drops to the table as he presses himself inside you. Rex is thick, and his cock splits you open like he's trying to tear you apart.

"No, I think you deserve it just like this," Rex thrusts the rest of his cock inside you until he bottoms out with a low grunt.

You sob around his cock, relishing in the stretch and the barely there burn as he sets a punishing pace.

The armor of his thighs smack against your ass until you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you'll have bruises.

Rex's body folds over yours, enveloping you under his weight as he presses hot kisses up your back to the nape of your neck.

One of Rex's hands slide around to your front to rub slow circles into your clit, a complete 180 from the devastating way he fucks you.

Your hand flies behind you, scrambling for any type of purchase as Rex seems damn determined to fuck you through the table.

Rex's free hand snags yours and tangles your fingers together.

"You flirt with my boys like you don't know you're mine," Rex hisses, teeth sinking into the meat of your neck.

He's branding you, you manage to string together a coherent thought, but it makes you tremble around his cock. There will be no doubt by the time he's done with you that you're his and he'll be yours.

"Are you gonna cum for me mesh'la?" Rex asks, picking his head up until his lips brush against your ear.

"Please!" you wail, tightening your grip on his hand as your orgasm builds in your gut. Tears squeak from your eyes, soaking into the chipped wood of the desk.

Rex presses a soft kiss into your jaw, a dizzying juxtaposition to how he fucks you, and finally speeds up his fingers on your clit. "Cum."

You shatter apart around him, soaking his cock and trembling on the desk.

Rex's cock pulls out, and you can't even hear the slick sound of skin on skin over your own panting, but you gasp at the hot streaks of cum that splatter against the small of your back.

Rex's forehead drops to the space between your shoulder blades. His breath is hot against your skin, and the hand still holding yours squeezes twice before he pushes himself off you.

The quiet of the room is disrupted only by both of your heavy breathing. You can't even push yourself onto your elbows, instead deciding to stay sprawled across the desk.

"Yours huh?" you finally say, peering at the captain from over your shoulder.

"Yeah," Rex shrugs and rests a heavy hand over one of the many bite marks littering your body, "mine."

[scarofthewind]

Slashers x Chubby!Reader || Lingerie (NSFW)

A/N: Hello everyone, I hope you are having a good Thanksgiving, if you don’t celebrate it then I hope you are having a good day! I am horrible, I know I need to get out the mini series as finish the Farm Life series for Ushijima as well as do a part 2 for the sad thing I posted the other day. 

Warnings: NSFW, R18+, chubby!reader, fem!reader, praise kink, authority kink

Characters: Thomas, Michael, Jason, Bo, Vincent, and Brahms

word count: 2.2k Tip Jar (every bit helps!)

Thomas Hewitt: 

★ You could tell by the way his shoulders sagged, that Thomas was having a rough day. He’d been busy all day ‘hunting’ and cleaning the mess he had down in the basement and at this point he could barely keep his eyes open.

★ So, being the good little lover you are, you waltz upstairs and prepare for a show. You take a nice hot shower and get yourself all cleaned up before slipping into the lingerie you had saved for a special occasion. 

★ Although, as soon as you put on the baby-doll flowing top and the string of underwear that had came with it, you frowned. The mirror in the corner of the bedroom stared right back at you as you grew more self conscious by the second. Would he even like this? I look terrible - I look like the Pillsbury dough boy. 

★ However, your negative thoughts were soon interrupted when Thomas stepped into the bedroom and froze at the sight of you. 

You chewed your lip nervously as you stood there facing him in all your glory; Thomas’ eyes darkened and you swore you heard a deep grumble from within his chest as he approached you slowly. “And what did I do to deserve this?” He asked with a grin, cupping your face in his hands. 

“You looked stressed so I wanted to make you feel better,” You replied, looking down slightly. “Do you like it? I don’t think it looks right-”

Thomas pressed a finger against your mouth and you closed it, reveling in the feeling of his hands traveling around your body. His large calloused fingers squeezed every bit of flesh they could find and Thomas almost blew a fuse seeing the small covering of underwear you had on under the sheer gown. “I think you look absolutely beautiful,” He said gently, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “The color looks good on you, but,” He trailed off, making your heart beat in anticipation. 

“As much as I would love to sit here and stare at you in this, I’d rather it be on the floor,” Thomas chuckled when you blushed, letting him drag you over to the bed and letting you sit down, his large frame towering in front of you. One hand gripped your chin and you craned your neck to look up at him, “Be a good girl for me and spread those pretty little legs.” You obliged.

Michael Myers:

★ It was your anniversary and you were determined to surprise your bastard of a lover before he returned from terrorizing the town. You made sure to pamper yourself, taking a long shower and relaxing in the tub, using the best perfume and lotions you had.

★ You even went as far as buying lingerie, which you examined on yourself in the bedroom. The straps on the legs were kind of tight but you shrugged and fixed pieces of your hair. 

★ The only thing that annoyed you was the belts around your thighs; they made them look so large, almost as if the belts were about to break. As you went to take them off, you heard the front door slam shut and you bolted to the bed, making yourself look as appealing as possible.

Holding your breath, you made to push your chest forward, exposing more of your breasts to the room and you waited for Michael to come bounding up the stairs. “You will not believe what-” Michael came into the room aggravated, but stopped as soon as he looked at you. He blinked a few times before a large smirk appeared on his face. “Is this my anniversary present from you?” He asked and you beamed in excitement and shock. 

“You remembered our anniversary?” You sat up a bit and his eyes followed the curve of your breasts. 

“Of course I remembered, your presents downstairs,” He replied, advancing towards you and groaning when you spread your legs for him to step between. “What the actual fuck, (Y/N)? Are you trying to kill me?” He growled seeing the small string of fabric that covered your pussy. 

“Do you like it?” You asked shyly and his eyes flew to yours as he grabbed your face in his hands. 

“I love it so much that I almost hate to take it off,” You giggled at his statement and his hands ran down your body, snapping the straps on your thighs, earning a whimper from you to which he grinned at. “We are keeping these on.” 

Jason Voorhees:

★ There was no particular reason as to why you stood in the doorway of your bedroom in nothing but lingerie you had covered with a bath robe. Your eyes wandered over Jason’s figure at the kitchen table, his back to you as he continued piecing together his mask that he’d accidentally broke.

★ You slipped the robe off, letting it fall to the ground before walking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. 

★ You didn’t say anything, but the minute Jason’s hand traveled up your arm and to your shoulder in a loving manner, he shot up out of the chair and turned to you with a flustered expression. 

He had known from the second that his fingers couldn’t find any article of clothing that you were naked; he just wasn’t expecting the strapless lingerie you wore, framing your body so nicely. His eyes raked over your body a mile a minute, trying to take in all of what was standing in front of him. “Do you like it?” You asked meekly and blushed as Jason nodded his head quickly, moving you both to the couch, sitting you in his lap. 

His rough hands gripped the skin on your sides and you grimaced, knowing he’d probably hate the fat poking out beneath the top of the lingerie. However, Jason only nuzzled his face against your neck as a sign of assurance, his hands continuing to move all over your body. You couldn’t deny the feeling of arousal sweeping over you the more you were being felt up by him and you could already feel his cock hard beneath you. 

When his hands cupped your breasts you let out a soft moan and Jason’s eyes locked with yours, realizing that you had been waiting patiently for him to take you. He could cum from the thought alone of you dressed up for him like this; only for his eyes to see and his hands to touch. “Jason please,” You whined, letting out a small gasp when his hand traveled down to your aching cunt, his eyes widening when he realized you were wearing a thong. He groaned as he moved the fabric to the side, exposing your bare pussy to him. There was something about the small piece of clothing that turned him on; he kept those on you for the rest of the night. 

Bo Sinclair:

★ You could hear Bo torturing someone from across the street in the house you were in and by the sounds of pain coming from the female he had locked up, he was in a mood.

★ So you decided to cheer him up by sorting through your clothes and finding the nicest set of lingerie you had, slipping it on and preparing your trap. You called him on the phone as told him that there was something you had to show him immediately.

★ You watched him run across the street and you waited in the lounge chair by the window; you caught your reflection in the mirror in the corner of the room and you frowned, readjusting your position a few times and growing more and more self conscious by the second. 

Before you had time to change your mind about your plan, Bo flew through the door, making you jump a bit in your spot before his eyes met your figure and he let out a low whistle. “I thought you might need a break,” You smiled sheepishly and he raised an eyebrow at your statement, making his way towards you. “I know it’s a little small, when I bought it I was-”

“Shut your mouth,” Bo snapped at your words, knowing very well what you were trying to say. Resting his hands on the arm rests of the chair, he leaned above you, pressing his forehead against yours, “You look beautiful. I don’t want to hear another self degrading comment come out of that pretty little mouth, do I make myself clear?” He titled his head slightly as he examined your flushed face as you blushed in embarrassment. 

“Yes sir,” You replied and he hummed in approval, his eyes darkening as he pressed his lips to yours, his hands starting their journey in caressing your body. His lips moved along yours heatedly and you let out a gasp when his fingers dipped down between your legs; Bo let out a surprised sound and backed up, looking at your spread legs and smiling to himself at the sight before him. 

“Crotch-less panties? Aren’t you a naughty little girl,” He grinned ear to ear when you blushed deeper, a loud moan coming from your throat as he dove in.

Vincent Sinclair:

★ You don’t expect to get such a rise out of him when you walk into the room wearing a beautiful set of lingerie, covered by a satin robe. 

★ Vincent barely looks up from the book he’s reading, and when he does, you drop the robe and lean against the door frame. You grimace slightly when you feel your back crease, creating what some people call ‘rolls’. 

★ Vincent slams the book shut before making his way over towards you with a heavy look of desire in his eyes.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask,” He teased, pressing an open mouth kiss against your neck as he pressed you against the wall. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you let out a small moan from the feeling, his loose strands of hair that had fallen from it’s messy man bun, tickling your arm. 

“D-Do you like it?” You asked between moans as his hands cupped the swell of your ass, groping the flesh there like a cat kneading a blanket. You could feel his cock twitch against your stomach, his pants did nothing to hide it at this point. A shiver ran through you when he groaned against your neck, pulling back and resting his head against yours, looking you in the eyes. 

“I love it, you look breathtaking,” He cooed, moving some hair from your face, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. “I love you in everything, especially your birthday suit.” He grinned when you let out a small laugh from his statement. “Don’t let those negative thoughts ruin the moment; forget about all of them and just focus on us okay?” Vincent pressed another kiss to your lips, letting out a sigh of relief when you kissed him back in agreement.

Brahms Heelshire:

★ You fiddled nervously in the lingerie you had on, trying on different pieces to see what would look the best. You’d already been through half the drawer and you were sure Brahms would come looking for you if you didn’t hurry back soon.

★ Both of you had been working hard lately to keep the house in utmost perfection and you decided to make a nice dinner and spend quality time together as a break.

★ However, nothing looked appealing to you, especially not anything that didn’t cover your stomach or backside. Groaning in frustration, you bent down and rummaged through the drawer again, not noticing the man behind you. 

Brahms watched you with eager eyes, taking in your beautiful form before him and slowly coming up behind you. “I don’t like this.” His voice grumbled from behind you and you nearly jumped out of your skin, feeling his fingers trace along the thong you were wearing. As if not bothered by it, Brahms looked through the drawer and picked out a nice pair of lace panties and held them out to you. “Put these on.”

You stared at him for a moment before obliging, slipping out of the thong and putting the lace underwear on. As soon as you did, Brahms hummed to himself in approval. “You look quite ravishing, my love.” He cooed, his hands tracing over your exposed skin and his eyes watching your face as you blushed. “Have I ever told you why I prefer women with more on them than those twig women out there?” His hands traced along the underside of your breasts. 

“I don’t think you have,” You replied and he let out a noise of surprise before stepping closer to you so that there was barely and inch between your bodies and faces. 

“The more there is, the more I can claim,” His eyes gleamed as they stared down at you, your body trembling with arousal as his fingers dipped into the lace panties he’d chosen for you, the pads of his digits finding your clit and rubbing it gently. “You like it when I leave marks on you, isn’t that right pretty girl?” He smirked and you nodded. “Good, because tonight I’m going to remind you why you are perfect just the way you are.”

[kashimos-hajime]

the shakes | p.d.

summary: “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.” Or, you’re experiencing the terrible side effects of being horny and Poe Dameron knows just how to fix it.

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+), oral (fem!receiving) and just a whole lot of banter, bruh poe is just feastin TONIGHT, sprinkle of plot pairing: poe dameron x fem!reader word count: 5.1k

a/n: uhhh so,,, heh,,, enjoy. bc smut. 

“Ow, fuck.”

“You’re stepping on my foot.”

“My bad. It’s not like we’re stuck in a fucking closet.”

“Who’s fault is that?”

“Yours.”

You breathe out through your nose, struggling to contain your annoyance as you try to back up away from man but no dice. Instead, your back jams awkwardly against the busted control panel.

Said control panel is one of the reasons why you’re stuck in a closet with a man you met only twenty minutes before. Other reasons may or may not include you, the man mentioned, and a certain droid both of you are supposedly waiting on.

“You said that droid is coming?” you grunt as he lets out a heavy sigh against your collarbone. You’ve been squished in a four by four foot supply closet for the past twenty minutes at least and there’s barely enough room as he reaches around to jam the button again. “That’s not going to work,” you say pointedly and he scowls at you, pressing the button again.

“BB-8’s coming,” he growls. “He’ll know I’m missing.”

“Oh, thank the Maker for that!”

“Do you have a problem?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re breathing in my air, in my general vicinity.” A pause, and then: “Can you breathe in any other direction?”

In response, he sucks in a huge breath and lets it out in one big exhale towards the vent above them before glancing down again and arching a brow as if to say, Happy now?

You are most certainly not.

“At least this gives us a moment to breathe. It’s better than being arrested,” he says as if offering a ceasefire. The man leans away from you and you sigh, readjusting the strap of your short dress. His eyes are determinedly staying on yours but even you know they’ve dipped the few times your back was turned. “We can get to know each other.”

Not that you haven’t been thinking about his ass all day either. You spotted him earlier in the markets today, even if he hadn’t noticed you, with that orange and white droid rolling around behind him. Cute and memorable.

What can you say? A good looking guy tends to stick out in a crowd.

“I think I’d rather be arrested,” you say as you lean against your own wall and tug at your dress where you think it doesn’t fit too well. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?”

“You mean, you don’t lock lips with any random handsome stranger?” he fires back. “I’m hurt.”

“Right. You know what I meant.” You nod to the chip in his pocket. “What do you wanna do with that?”

“Top secret, Snatch.”

“Snatch?” you repeat, frowning. “Never mind. I’m sure it’s a secret you can share with me.” At this, you push off the wall and, by the limitations of the closet, stand in his space. Dameron straightens up, an unimpressed smirk printed on his face. “So?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“It could be.”

“It really couldn’t.” His nose brushes against yours and his soft breath tickling at your lips makes a hot spear shoot into your gut. You can taste the sunfruit on his breath, the sweet swipe of his tongue across his lips and your eyes narrow as his chest presses against yours. You don’t budge from your spot as a curl of his dark hair falls into his eyes. Almost automatically and before you can register what you’re doing, you reach up to brush it back and he catches your wrist before you can, grin growing. “I knew I recognized you.”

“I’m so happy for you,” you reply dryly. You shake his hand free from your wrist and back up against the wall, crossing your arms. “I’ve seen you in the markets a few times. The only eye-candy way out here,” you admit grudgingly, thinking of the weird fantasies you had about the guy you dubbed ‘The Man from the Market.’

Not your most graceful or catchy nickname, or your most dignified moment, waking up to soaked panties and a flustered sensation glossing over your skin, but you also didn’t expect to see him again. At this party, no less, of some merc bastard and his friends.

“Likewise,” he says, eyes dropping from yours to your lips and then darting up again. He chews on his lip, as if fighting back that cocky smile before he adds, “You’re the only thing that’s caught my eye in the past two days.”

“Charming.”

“Hm. Poe Dameron.”

You glance at the unopened door, sighing out a, “Good for you,” as you cross your legs at your ankles. Dameron only frowns, turning to the door and you observe the darkness around you. You can’t really make out anything but the solid shape of your fellow closet companion. You can’t even make out his features too well unless he’s extremely close to you, and even then, it’s a guesstimate.

You’re going to kill Yvonna. If she wants the intel, she’s going to have to pay you double the credits.

The darkness seems to crowd in on you and you take a deep breath, the heat of the room getting to you. You feel sweat gather underneath your arms, in the creases of your thighs, and maybe it’s the alcohol getting to you, but you swear your feet aren’t attached anymore. They’ve been strapped to some stupidly high heels to accentuate your legs and it's gathered in a trembling pain in your calves now that you’ve a moment to stop moving. You want to keep moving. It’s the dancing in your stomach, the strange flutter in your lungs, the involuntary clenching between your legs.

Normally, you’d be fine but right now…

God, it might’ve been something you ate. You don’t know, but right now, you feel like you’re a hollowed out piece of scrap.

“C’mon, BB-8,” Dameron murmurs as you let your head drop back against the wall. Your eyes slip shut and it’s not too different from the darkness surrounding.

Maybe it’s cause you haven’t seen Krieg in a moment which is part of the reason you’re here. Hasn’t given you a chance to take the edge off and you’re so full of this energy that needs to be spent or you’re going to die in this closet, in that ship…

You needed to do something.

Your eyes open and see the shape of Dameron’s head.

Or, someone.

Yes, you had kissed him first, pushed him into this closet, let his hands wander, but that was because a guard was coming and you weren’t about to get caught red-handed.

This fucking sucks.

“My friends call me Y/N,” you say glumly, your fingers gingerly tugging at the hem of your skirt. An uncomfortable slickening is occurring down there just thinking about that kiss that occurred in a time when you weren’t stuck in a closet, and you can’t help but think that Dameron was a good kisser.

Give credit where credit is due, all that bullshit.

“Y/N, huh?”

“I said my friends,” you reply pointedly. “Associates and otherwise know me by my callsign.”

“Which is?”

“Bandit.”

“How original,” he mutters almost under his breath and you roll your eyes. The burning in your gut spreads like a fan of fire, following where your knuckles press against your thighs as you try to adjust your dress to fit comfortably, but it’s too damn hot and you shift again, catching his attention. “You okay? Not afraid of the dark, are you?”

“No. It’s just… it’s just hot in here,” you mumble with a scowl directed at your own body betraying the way his arm bracketing you on one side of your head is radiating a heat you want to choke on. “When did it get so hot?”

“When they started serving spiced whiskey?” he tries and, this time, your scowl is directed at him with another poison to kill a small snake. “Maybe you’re having the Shakes.”

“The…” You blink, and you’re not sure if your eyes are adjusting to the blinding darkness or if you can actually see him clear as day when he bends his arm and leans against the wall by his elbow. You don’t move away and his breath, searing, tingles at your sweating neck. The drawling exhales only serve to send more thigh-clenching spasms into your stomach and you shoot him a weak glare. “The what now?”

“The Shakes,” he repeats as if he’s totally unaware of what he’s doing to your body. Maker, he must be able to smell it. There’s no way he can’t because you can feel just the effect of him being so close to you has done and— “You know.”

“I, uh, I really don’t.” If he knew a fraction of what his voice did to your panties, he would not be talking right now. Or he’d be talking more. You don’t know which one you want more.

“Oh, you know, when you haven’t had sex in a long time. I call it the Shakes. Every little thing sets you off, you get cranky and flustered, you’re all wired up and your gut feels like the first time you go into hyperspace.” He sighs, and you hear the quiet thump of his head resting against the wall. Y’know, darling?”

“Hm?” you hum, distracted by the index knuckle running over your cheek.

“It makes you distracted.” You can hear his smirk and you roll your eyes with a scoff. “It’s why I call ‘em the Shakes. Throws everything off, doesn’t it?”

“Stars, you love hearing yourself talk, don’t you?”

“You know, I see the it often enough that I can recognize any poor soul suffering from a mile away,” he says, ignoring you. “And you’re sick with it, Snatch.” Casually as if he isn’t lazily tracing the shell of your ear with his hand now, he chuckles. You close your eyes as if you’re not critically aware of every desire to pull him into another hard kiss, every little movement of his body from the way he leans to the way his fingers flutter around the curve of your jaw.

You’re a fucking fighter, though. You’re not about to hook up with some random motherfucker in a closet.

Even if the random motherfucker is the hottest thing you’ve seen in who knows how long.

Holy shit, you think your gut might explode with how hard you’re trying to keep it together so you say the first thing you can think of related.

“I didn’t get sick the first time I flew into hyperspace. I didn’t get sick the first time I did an aileron. I, uh, I really don’t get sick when I fly at all,” you say, eyebrows rising skeptically. “Do you?” Confused: “No. I’m a pilot.”

“Oh. And you get the Shakes often, then? Wedged in the seat for hours on end,” you ask conversationally, managing to keep your tone in check. Dameron chuckles at your question, but he pulls back. Your thighs press together and something lurches at his withdrawal, wanting him near again but you silently push those urges down. “If you’re so wise to depart your knowledge with me, that is.”

“You’re a funny girl. Nah, you just get used to it when you’re busy doing other things.”

“Other things?”

“Hm, well, let’s say I have a busy job, and that’s pretty much my whole twenty-four-seven schedule.” He comes close again, close enough that his lips brush against the delicate skin before your ear and shivers shoot down your spine like waves of electricity and you stiffen. You know he hears you suck in your breath, the tiny hitch of your chest and he chuckles again, almost amused.  

“I think… it’s…” Maker, please forgive me for my utterly hedonistic will that has the strength of melted bantha cheese. “Fuck, I think it’s physically impossible to ignore that you’re horny.”

“I didn’t say that,” he corrects, lips whispering over your skin. He tilts his head. “I said you get used to it.”

“Well… n-normally, I’m pretty fucking good at that.” You bite your lip and lift your head to the ceiling, thighs pressing together and straightening up but the sound of your dress dragging against the wall gives you away. “When... people aren’t around.”

“People?” he echoes. “You alright, Snatch?” Fuck him. He is definitely enjoying this.

Well, fuck. Might as well, right?

“The Shakes,” you say in a very steady tone that is betrayed by the absolute ocean swimming between your thighs, “may have found residence here.”

“Hm.”

“That funny to you?” you ask, feeling his smug fucking smirk against your cheek and turning to look at him. His dark eyes glint somehow in the non-existent light. You just know it’s there. A cocky spark.

“Explains why you kiss like I’d melt away between your fingers. It was a good kiss, by the way. You’re a good kisser,” he adds, “but more passionate than I thought you’d go for, considering all we were trying to do was evade the guards and that fact that up until that point, you were trying to pickpocket me.”

“I was trying to get the chip. And I think the pushing into the closet was a good touch,” you defend as he rotates around and cages you against the wall. You stare defiantly back. “He went away, didn’t he?”

“But that just implies something.” His elbows are on either side of your head and he leans in, low enough that you can feel the sound of his voice, his sweet breath against your aching mouth. It’s one thing to admit it but another thing to act on it. Maker, are you really about to—

You know what?

Fuck it. Your panties are ruined, you need this fucking annoying heat out of your system and he’s fucking right about one thing: you’re hornier than a Lucrusian fengrill in heat.

What do you have to lose?

“Why just imply something?” you ask innocently as his lips brush against the corner of your mouth. You sigh in relief when the heat seems to sink, spreads through your body instead, and his shadow brushes against your skin as he moves lower, lips finding your chin, the curve of your jawbone. “Oh, fuck…” you choke out, your hands finding his hair automatically, threading through the dry locks and his name slips out in a breathless moan. “Fuck, Dameron.”

His body jerks at the sound of his name coming from you and your eyes widen when his hips press flush against your thigh. His bulge is hot and hard, the fabric of his pants silky against your bare skin and you let out a soft sound when he nudges your head up. His hands run over the walls, find your shoulders, your waist, tugging at fabric that sticks to your skin before continuing elsewhere, and you’re not even breathing as he licks at the pulse point, the sweat, the alcohol glazing your skin.

“Shit,” he breathes against your neck, teeth running along the vein as his hand sneaks underneath the hem of your dress, skirts around the edge of your panties and it’s the brush across the absolutely soaked spot that does him in, does you in because you know he felt you clench around nothing. “Fuck, I can feel it—”

“Shut up,” you groan, wrenching his head up and smashing your lips against his. He sighs into your mouth, hips grinding against yours as you take a handful of his curls. You yank him back, your lungs seizing for air. Everything tastes like sugar and starfruit as you push him down to his knees, your calves burning. “My feet. Ow. Fuck these heels, honestly.”

“I got ‘em.” His hands immediately find your ankles, running smooth circles into your skin but before you can tell him the strap is on the outer side of your leg, he lifts your foot up. A protest stammers in your throat as he reaches up and presses you against the wall with a large hand flat against your tummy, but he merely smirks against your thigh, letting your knee hang off his broad shoulder. “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.”

“Dameron—”

“Relax,” he drawls as your back meets the wall flush and cold. You grab onto the handle of one of the mechanical drawers, wincing when his hand digs into the sore muscle on its way up to stabilize your thigh just as the other on your stomach travels down. “Got a nice view, don’t you?”

“Would be better,” you grit out, “if I could see.”

“Need me to pull out my glow-in-the-dark condoms for you?”

“Dameron.”

“Kidding. Well, only half. I do have some back on the ship.”

“Dameron.”

“Alright, alright. Next time.”

You can’t even see the silhouette of his face anymore, gone underneath the hem of your dress, but you shake your head anyway, lip caught between your teeth as you feel his hand slide up and down the one calf still planted firmly on the ground.

You take a breath and let your head fall back, your ravaged neck pulsing, your entire world spinning.

It happens all at once. When his grip on the thigh resting on his shoulder tightens, when he lifts your other leg over his shoulder, when he surges forward, his lips finding your soaked panties immediately, teeth nipping lightly at the fabric.

Your entire system shuts down.

He noses up higher and your thighs wrap around his head, ankles hooking. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, clutches at your ass really, and your fingers in his hair tighten when the dress begins to ride up higher, revealing more of the gorgeous man between your legs.

Oh, how you wish there was some sort of light in here so you can just—

There’s one shaky breath, then another, and there’s no movement which you’re only painfully aware of and your eyes open—when did you even close them?—as you look down. “What’s wrong?”

“I just wish I could see you, darling,” he breathes, kissing the top of your slit and sending a warm shiver through your gut. “Fuck. The way you’d look when I finally chase the Shakes out of you—I’d ruin you. Ruin you and then some. Eat for days.��� And then his teeth return, barely skimming the soft flesh of your navel as they hook on the waistband of your panties and tug, his breath following down your thigh as he works on pulling it down, slowly, luxuriously, his lips soft as they press teasing kisses in the crease of your thighs, land tiny nips to the juncture of your hips. You spasm at every turn, wiggle and squeeze until you’re sure you’re cutting off the circulation in his neck, but he doesn’t give any indication that he cares.

No, he just holds you against the wall, your legs tossed over his shoulders, and grins.

You don’t know how you know.

You just do so you don’t know why you stutter out, “You g-good?” anyway.

“Fucking perfect.”

Maybe it’s so you can hear that voice, low and deep in his chest, between your legs.

He leans forward and his nose bumps into your clit, and, as if on reflex, a warm, strong tongue darts out and licks a solid stripe through your heat. “Fuck, darlin’.”

Definitely so you can hear that voice between your legs.

“You’re heaven, y’know that?” he mumbles but you can’t quite focus, your hands gripping at anything you can—one in his hair, the other on that handle and your back arches when he just goes for it, mouth to clit contact, tongue probing and licking and stroking all at once. “Think ‘m gonna die if you don’t drown me first.”

“W-way to i-inflate a girl’s—fuck…” Your voice goes hoarse midway, as if he sucks it out of you, and you can feel the air in your lungs going with it as your back arches off the steel wall. You can feel his jaw, sharp and strong and warm, flexing against your thighs as he works, tongue velvet, lips teasing and he inhales deeply as your legs tighten around his head.

His fingers dig deeper into your ass and you choke back a pathetic moan when his teeth raze your swollen bud lightly, just enough to tease you and keep you on edge. Everything is cotton. The shadows, his hair, his rough hands that are full of calluses you don’t know the meanings of.

Your nails scratch his scalp, tug him impossibly closer and you’re biting through your lip right now, your moans bundling in your chest as he pushes deeper, pushes you closer against the wall as if he wants more of you but can’t quite reach and you want to just let him continue, let him have his fun because you’re sure he can go down on you for hours but—

You’re only human, and the tide comes so quickly you fucking know for sure two things: Dameron knows what he’s doing and Dameron knows what the fuck the Shakes are.

A slight brush of his tongue at your clit and you’re gone. You’re on that downhill slope that sends a spiral of chain events through your body. Your thighs lock around his head and your fingers tighten as lightning shivers and lances through your limbs, sending your heart up into your throat and pulsing between your legs. Your gut clenches, so desperate to hold on that you can’t even breathe, that the only thing you can stutter out is some bare semblance to his name followed by ramblings of “fuck” slewn with more “close… close… so, so close…”

Your eyes are screwed shut, your mind scrambling to concoct an image—an image that would be reality if the lights were on and you can almost see it. Poe Dameron, with his dark eyes, raven hair, plush lips and a beard that scratches against your skin, on his knees with your legs thrown over his shoulders, his hands, huge and veined and strong, grabbing at what flesh he can, head gone underneath the hem of your dress and you can only feel what he’s doing—

You don’t even recognize him chuckling until you can feel the vibration of it through your knees, against your leg.

“Darlin’,” he pants, drawing back just enough to breathe and he tilts his chin just enough to press a sloppy, slick kiss against the soft flesh of your inner thigh and he laughs again, entertained at the desperate little whine that comes outta your throat because the image would’ve been just enough if he kept going for a second more, “gotta let me fuckin’ breathe if you want me to stay down here.”

“That’s…” You struggle for words because you’re heaving so hard, so out of breath because you didn’t even know you weren’t breathing for several seconds. “That’s—it’s, oh, shit.” Your thought process is disturbed by another teasing lick at your swollen folds. “Dameron, if you don’t let me just fucking—”

He nips at the juncture between your thigh and your soaking, swollen cunt.

“Watch it.” You retaliate with a sharp tug of his hair and he only laughs again, soothing the bite mark with a few gentle kisses.

“Just keeping you on edge, darling,” he whispers, peeking up from underneath your dress for the first time in what feels like hours. You run your hand blindly down his face and feel the slickness on his chin, swiping it off but his teeth catch your thumb, and then it’s his tongue wrapping around your fingers, too, sending fluttering shivers through your stomach. He licks them dry before he lets go and your hand finds his hair again as he sighs, disappearing between your legs again, and you barely hear it, a nearly indecipherable mumble that sounds more like it’s coming from inside your head that his own mouth, “Anyone ever told you… you taste like heaven?”

“And how would you know?” you gasp, feeling a little giggly yourself as the crest begins to rise, your chin tilted up as his tongue flattens against your slit. He hums to himself, the curve of his jaw brushing against your tender thigh as he pulls back just enough to speak.

“‘Cause I just tasted it, darling. And I know I could just feast on you for days.” Your entire body tenses as he laughs into your cunt, the ripples of it against your sensitive skin shooting through your spine and you’re on that downward spiral again as his smiling mouth attaches to your bud and his tongue dips into you again.

You’re dripping. The sounds are obscene, filthy to the nth degree, and you’re so close that it aches. You want to thrust but you can’t risk toppling the man you’re resting on the shoulders of, but at the same time, you know he’s teasing the ever loving shit out of you with his shallow passes, his fluttering kisses.

Taking his sweet time, indulging in it. You’re pretty sure if he could make do on his promise to eat you out for however long you’d let him, he would, but you’re half-aware of where you are, that the droid is supposedly coming, and having half-a-brain is half-a-brain too much to lose all common sense.

“Dameron,” you whisper, and he pauses, looking up and you wish you could see his face, the face of a man who stopped at the mere utterance of his name that it sends a thrill through your overstimulated system. “Please.”

There are no further words needed.

He works you up to it slowly, until your fingers are clamped so hard and you’re seeing stars despite there being nothing but shadows around you. The only sound is the wet slop of his mouth working against your drenched pussy, your moans and his heavy breathing that fans out across your navel.

It’s when his tongue pushes so much deeper, and curls, that your thighs clamp down around his head and your fingers are gripping so hard you’re not sure you’re going to make it without a few nail cuts in your palms that you know the Shakes are gone.

Your entire world flips as your vision goes black. Your fingers curl tighter, your thighs begin to quiver, and everything snaps inside you. Your back arches off the wall and you feel like you scream but it’s because your voice is so utterly broken that it seems so as he continues to drink through the floods, drawing out the aftershocks for as long as possible and the euphoria that shoots through you like a blaster is both molten and cool as spring water.

Your vocabulary is nothing but his name, soft breathes of “fuck” and “shit”, and the unrelenting “thank you”.

Your heart rattles against your ribs, beating so quickly you think it might burst from your chest and you feel another quivering sigh escape your lips as Dameron gives you a few more gentle sucks to your messy centre before he’s slowly running his hands up your thighs, to your knees, and gently sliding your legs off back to the floor.

Your body is trembling so hard that your knees nearly give in immediately, but, luckily, Dameron’s hands find your waist and ease you to the ground just as you let go of the handle of the drawer.

“Fuck,” you croak ungracefully once your ass is on solid ground and you gulp down nothing but air as you try to open your eyes. It’s not that different from your closed vision and there are a few white stars blinding you in the dark, but you can still make out the shape of your partner, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand before he’s leaning over your leg to check the control panel. It’s then that you can feel it, pressed against your shin. He’s hard as a fucking rock. “Y-you need—” But your voice is a garbled mess, exhausted from the alcohol and the Shakes, and he turns to you, fingers dancing up your calves before slowly pulling your ruined panties back up your thighs.

“Up,” he orders quietly, and you lift your hips up enough for him to slip them firmly back onto your hips. “And it’s fine. I told you. I’m good with the Shakes.”

“Yeah, but, y’know…” you mumble, “could be good.” You can feel him smiling as he leans over to kiss your neck blindly, still finding that tender juncture of your shoulder. You grin, your hands finding his shoulders and roaming his back, feeling the curved muscle of a military man. You know his type.

Continuing downward, down his sides…

“You do owe me,” he murmurs and you nod as he pulls back just as the sound of beeping on the other end of the door.

“Mhm, don’t wanna stay in debt,” you say just as the sound of whirring fills the heated silence and your grin grows as you expectedly raise one of your hands to shield the light about to fill their little closet. You pull your other hand away and you begin pulling the loops out on your heels, sliding your aching feet out of those torture shoes. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again in the future, huh? Pay you back then.”

The door slides open and you stand as he scrambles to his feet as well. At least, you can see his features clearly, and you grin because he’s just as handsome as the first time you saw him.

Absolute score.

With your fingers hooked on your shoes, you wipe the bit of slick he missed on the corner of his mouth. He grabs your hand before it drops, pressing a cheeky kiss to the center of your palm and you roll your eyes.

“That’s fine with me,” he replies, squinting against the light and you tap his cheek. “See you around, Flyboy.” You flash him one last smile before leaving the closet first and walking down the hall. Your knees are still trembling and you feel like you’re a complete mess as you stagger through the metal hallway. Exhaustion is telling you to just go the fuck to sleep right then and there, but you can’t. Not until you get back to your ship and get into hyperspace.

As soon as you’ve rounded a corner, you run with everything you have.

It’s only a matter of time before Poe Dameron realizes that the chip that was in his pocket is making its way to another buyer.

Yvonna totally owes you.

[egcdeath]

unwinding

summary: On Valentine’s Day, you receive a bit of a surprise.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2.2k

author’s note: valentine’s day came early this year. like... over a month early i’m actually pretty proud of this! i hope you all enjoy :) 

p.s. this is part of @syntheticavenger​‘s lyric challenge, my prompt was: So let me take away your pain, give me all of your emotions (Victoria Monet ‘Moment’)

warnings: so much fluff. before you read this, ask yourself (and your dentist) if you’re okay with getting a few cavities.

Being engaged to a fugitive from the law meant a few things.

For starters, your fiancé was almost never home, and when he was home, he wasn’t there for long. Whether it be a 3 AM knock on the door from Natasha, or soft and apologetic eyes bidding you farewell after a 4 day tryst, everything always seemed to end too soon.

The second being that you often had little to no warning when he was coming home, leaving you to go on a mad dash to put on something nice before your partner arrived at your front door. Between random messages from burner phones, and random deliveries of local goods to your door, you were often given short notice of when you’d be able to see Steve again.

Finally, despite his best efforts, Steve was frequently absent from holidays that you used to gleefully celebrate together.

As the soft clicks of the clock increased, and night drew nearer, you feared that your Valentine’s Day would end the same as the aforementioned days, yet, after hearing the chime of your doorbell reverberate through your home, you were filled with a semblance of hope.

You all but skipped down to your door to see what (or who) had arrived, and lit up with glee when you were handed a bouquet of yellow roses with a printed note attached to it.

You didn’t think I forgot about my best girl, did you? Happy Valentine’s Day, Dear. I’ll see you in an hour.

p.s. I just learned that yellow roses represent welcoming someone back, isn’t that nifty?

-S

You couldn’t help but to grin at the note, quickly thanking the delivery person, then bolting upstairs to prepare for Steve’s homecoming.

——

After debating with yourself about which candle scent Steve would enjoy smelling most, and filling up your oversized bathtub with a cocktail of soap, essential oils, and an overpriced bath bomb, you heard the door ring once again. This time, you had a good idea of who you’d be seeing. Upon opening the door, you were far from disappointed.

In the doorway stood your greek god of a fiancé, a lopsided grin on his face despite the scratches, bruises, and dried blood that seemed to litter his body. You immediately reached up to wrap him in a tight embrace and he gladly accepted it.

“Steve!” You cheered, burying your face into his chest, “I missed you so much.” Your words were muffled, and you felt tear stains begin to latch onto his suit. He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, before lightly pushing you further into the house.

“You have no idea of how much I missed you too,” said Steve in response. “I never wanna leave you again.”

At this, you somehow managed to squeeze him tighter, and he let out a soft grunt, screwing his face up. “Are you okay?” You asked before letting him go completely. “Take off the suit, let me take care of you.”

----

That’s how you ended up soaking in a bathtub with Steve, running your hands up and down his chest while he leaned his head back and rested his eyes. It became more and more apparent with every second that he was completely exhausted, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

Now usually, you liked to spoil your man when he came back home, but after seeing his pure exhaustion, you decided to go all out. If anyone deserved a few hours of pure relaxation, it was certainly Steve.

You stirred and sat up, sloshing around the purple water that had been dyed by the aforementioned bath bomb, and attempted to readjust yourself so that you could at least make eye contact with Steve, who had now opened his eyes from your sudden movement.

“What’s up?” He asked, breaking the prior comfortable silence, and running a large hand through your hair.

“How about we unwind. Like, really, really unwind. The whole nine yards. I completely meant it when I said I wanted to take care of you, and as much as I’m enjoying this, I don’t think that just a bath is gonna cut it,” you hummed while wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, attempting to bring your faces closer together.

“Hmm,” Steve attempted to look pensive, “Only if you insist.” At that, he gave you a toothy smile, then leaned in to close the gap between the two of you, and peck your lips.

Boy, was Steve in for it.

----

Sometime after the bath water eventually became unbearably cold, and your skin was so pruny that you swore it’d slip off, the two of you exited the bath.

The next task you set out to complete was a deep clean of your faces, which could only be accomplished with the help of a peel off face mask. You stood at your bathroom countertop and plugged in a facial steamer after filling the bottom opening.

“What’s that for?” Steve asked with a slight lisp, as he was currently flossing his pearly teeth.

“It’s a facial steaming thing. It’ll be good for your pores before the face mask, or some shit like that,” you stood back and allowed the small machine to make some strange noises as it started up.

Steve tossed the string into a trashcan before leaning over the counter and examining it, giving you the opportunity to press a button and turn the device on.

“What the hell was that?” He immediately recoiled at the sudden puff of steam, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can’t believe thee Captain America, who fights aliens and takes down governments on the regular is afraid of a little steam machine.”

“Hey, everyone gets startled sometimes,” he turned his head to give you a little pout. “How ‘bout you do it first, and show me how it’s done,” Steve stepped aside at this.

You shrugged a bit and nodded, then took his place at the sink to demonstrate how exactly to steam your face. After observing you for a few minutes, Steve motioned for you to move, and as you did, he made sure to give you a little ass squeeze, gaining him a side eye from you as a response.

“Just put your head right…. there,” you gently pushed his head down, then once his head was in the proper position, you pressed the button that turned the machine on.

“This feels kinda weird. It’s like, tickling me,” he mumbled into the machine while you reached into your medicine cabinet to grab a peel off face mask. Steve began to move his face back, but you shook your head and tutted.

“I mean, that’s kind of the point. Your pores need this. So keep that head down, big boy,” you giggled, beginning to apply the charcoal goop to your face while examining yourself in the mirror.

“Do they, though?”

“Yes! Those poor cells have probably been through hell and back with all of that fighting and… avenging you do.”

“You’re lucky that I love you. But know that I expect something in return for this hard work.”

You lovingly scoffed at this, but were pleased that Steve had found a reason to finally stop complaining.

Once a decent amount of time passed, Steve lifted his face and used the back of his hand to attempt to wipe away some of the dampness.

“Here,” you said softly, grabbing a towel, and softly patting his face with it. “Now the fun part,” you began to apply the facemask to Steve’s face, and he seemed to have no complaints.

“Hey, this feels pretty nice!” He exclaimed.

“Unless you want me to get this all over your beard, I suggest you move your face a little less,” you commented while putting the last of the mask on his left cheek.

He opened his mouth to respond, but decided it wasn’t exactly worth the risk of getting a strange substance in his sensitive facial hair. You finished up putting on the mask, then rinsed your hands in the sink while Steve checked his face out. “Ooo, I can feel it exfoliating already. Are you tingling too?”

You smiled fondly at him, then shook your head and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Since you were such a good sport, I think you deserve a little treat.” You all but dragged him out of the ensuite, grabbing a fresh towel on your way out, and setting it down on the bed.

“Take your clothes off,” you demanded. “Then lay on the bed face down. Ass up. I’ll be back in a minute.” You winked suggestively at him, then went back into your bathroom to search for the lavender scented body oil hiding in a cabinet.

When you arrived back in the bedroom, you were not disappointed by the sight of Steve with his sculpted back and perky ass out. You allowed yourself a moment to check him out before you spoke. “Hey honey…” you drawled out in a faux sultry tone. “A little birdy told me that you’ve got some sore muscles from all that crime fighting you’re doing…” You ran your hand up and down Steve’s back, and you felt his back heave as he attempted to hold back his laughter.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” He asked, not even trying to hide his chortling.

“Shhh, don’t think. Just let me take away your pain, give me all of your emotions,” you poured a bit of the oil in your hands, warmed it up, then placed your hands on his back. Steve involuntarily let out a full body shudder, and you couldn’t help but to smile at yourself with satisfaction. “Seriously though, try to relax,” you began to knead his upper back.

Steve let out a shaky sigh, and relaxed into your soft mattress. Although the tone of the massage started as a joke, he was feeling more relaxed by the second. Then those seconds seemed to turn into minutes, then… hours? Maybe even days. The point is, Steve fell asleep. Then woke up to the familiar tone of a phone alarm, and a gentle shaking on his shoulder.

“Hey, you can sleep later. It’s time to take off our masks.” You reminded him. “Meet me in the bathroom, but get somewhat decent first.” You gave a little squeeze to his shoulder before walking off.

Once Steve met you in the bathroom, he made a beeline to the toilet and sat down on top of the lid. “Will you take it off for me? I’m too tired to do it myself.”

“Fine, but only ‘cause I love you,” you teased, referencing his words from earlier before you leaned down to his level. You picked at a piece of the mask on his forehead, and began to peel it back, watching Steve screw his face and squeeze his eyes shut.

“Ow, what the fuck, Y/N,” he whined, giving you a little pout.

“I’m sorry. Just think of how fresh your skin will be after this, though. You’ll look so dewy, people will think you just came out of the ice.” You moved to remove the piece on his nose, and gained a similar response.

“Ouch! Double ouch. That was way too soon. Why can’t you be nice to me while you’re peeling off my face?” Steve looked deep into your soul while you peeled around the rest of his face, and you couldn’t help but internally melt a little.

“I only tease because I care. And I’m pulling your skin off because I care even more,” you finished up pulling the last of the mask off, then pressed the back of your hand up to some red parts of his face. “All done. You look like a whole new man, Stevie.”

You stepped back so he could stand up and look at himself in the mirror, and he rotated his face back and forth so he could examine himself.

“You’re so right, Y/N. Stark and the government will never catch me when I look like this,” he teased.

“I’m just a miracle worker, I guess.”

“Well is this miracle worker ready to head to bed? All this self care has been fun and all, but…”

“Say less,” you grabbed Steve’s hand once again, and paraded him out to your bedroom, before flopping on the bed theatrically, and grinning when Steve followed suit.

You rolled on top of your starfished fiancé, and kissed him passionately, threading your fingers through his long, sandy hair and sighing contentedly. He turned his head slightly for breath, then began to speak again.

“What I was saying was,” he said breathlessly, “All of this self care has been fun and all, but now I think it’s time that I show you how I unwind.”

[makeadealwithdean]

can’t touch us (dom!sam winchester x fem! reader) -- part 2 of ftfuwc

Hi everyone!! I’m back faster than usual with Part 2 of the Sam Winchester Valentine’s Day fic, fueling the fire until we combust! To the anon who requested this: again, I’m so sorry it’s later than I wanted it to be, but I do hope you read and enjoy it! Feedback is always appreciated, and if you like reading on AO3 better, you can find mine here :)

Word Count: 4946

Request: "Sam Winchester Valentine’s Day smut? Is that too vague for a request lmao" "I’m up to anything happening before the fun, but I was thinking they’re dating already and are both hunters and they were on separate hunts and now they’re happy just to be back together. I’m a sucker for reuniting -Sam valentine anon"

Warnings: SMUT, like for real this time, dom/sub, spanking, face slapping (a little bit), dirty talk, sir kink, daddy kink, soft dom!sam, less soft dom!sam, fingering, slight degradation (name calling, i guess), general rough sex, fluffy aftercare, i think that’s it

Part 1

My Masterlist

You set the box on the counter, untied the ribbon, and opened the lid. Inside was a strappy black bra made of sheer lace, matching panties, and garter set nestled in the middle of red tissue paper. You held the pieces up, and felt your cheeks flush at the thought of Sam’s eyes on you in that. You dropped it back into the box and began wiggling out of your tight little red dress. Finally, your dress hit the floor, along with the bra and panties you’d been wearing. You put on the new outfit Sam had given you and checked your hair and makeup in the mirror. After a deep breath to calm your nerves, you opened the door and stepped back into the bedroom.

Sam was sitting in your armchair over by the wall across from the end of your bed, leaning back, legs spread wide as he waited for you to finish changing. He looked up as you stepped out of the bathroom, and his lips curved into a wicked smile. Sometime since ditching his jacket in his room, he had rolled up the sleeves of his white button-up; you knew he was well aware of what that did to you. His hand resting on the arm of the chair lazily beckoned you closer. You took small timid steps towards him.

“C’mere, kitten,” he said, readjusting himself in the chair. You came closer, and he reached out his arm and gestured for you to sit on his right knee. You perched softly on him, still holding up most of your weight with your legs in between his legs. His big hands grabbed around your waist, picking you up and guiding you further onto his lap, so that your toes barely touched the ground. You looked down and saw the outline of his thick cock visible through his black dress pants, and all you wanted to do was touch it. But you knew that would get you in more trouble, so you placed the heel of your hand on the end of his knee to steady yourself instead.

“Now,” Sam said in a low voice, “would you like to tell me what you’ve done wrong tonight?” He leaned forward to look at you and placed his arm over your lap to grasp your thigh.

You swallowed, and your voice was shaky when you spoke, “Umm, I… talked back to you…”

“And?”

“And I touched you--” you had stopped speaking, but Sam’s hand around your waist squeezed hard, and you squeaked out “--even when you’d already told me not to.”

“Right,” Sam said sternly, turning your head towards him with his hand. “And why did you think that was okay to do? You know better.”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, sir,” you said in a voice just barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know isn’t an answer, Y/n,” Sam said, looking you in the eye and threading his fingers up your neck and into your hair to hold you still. He repeated a little more forcefully, “Why did you do what you did? Do not make me ask again.”

“I wanted to tease you, because I didn’t think I’d get in trouble today,” you said in a rush, wanting to get it over with.

Sam raised his eyebrow and huffed in surprise, “Didn’t think you’d get in trouble? Well, babygirl, guess you were wrong about that.” He hooked his left arm under your knees, right arm around your back, and lifted you as he stood up. “I think you need to be reminded who’s in charge here. That’s okay, princess. We’re gonna fix that right now.”

He threw you onto the bed on your back, but before you could get comfortable, he grabbed your legs and dragged you to the edge of the bed, flipping your body over so that your legs hung off the side, toes resting on the ground. You could feel Sam standing behind you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He yanked you backwards, just a bit more until your feet were flat on the floor, and his hips were flush against your ass. His cock strained against the fabric of his pants, and he let a sigh of relief as he grinded against you. You let out a quiet moan and turned your head to look back at him.

“Uh uh,” Sam snapped, and his hand smacked the side of your ass sharply. You yelped, and Sam said, “Eyes forward.” You turned back around, your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. He shouldn’t have had to tell you to face the front, you knew better.

“Do you know your colors, little girl?” Sam asked you, slightly softer now, and you knew this was his way of making sure you were okay with everything that was about to happen. You nodded your head, and Sam said, “No, use your words, baby.”

“Red, yellow, green, sir,” you listed off quickly.

“Good, and what’s your color right now?” Sam asked gently, hands now rubbing your ass over the lace of the new panties he’d given you.

“Green, sir,” you whimpered, voice laced with anticipation. As soon as the word left your lips, you felt Sam step back, his hands leaving you, and you whined again at the loss of contact, but stayed where he’d put you. You heard Sam move somewhere behind you and felt a rush of air as the first smack came down on the sensitive skin of your ass. Your body jolted forward as the force of his hand pushed you up the bed, and you yelped in surprise. 

His hand grabbed your waist and pulled you back to where you’d been a second ago. This time he kept his hand pressing firmly down on your lower back, keeping you in place while he yanked your panties down and off. He crouched down and blew a long, cool breath onto your exposed cunt. You whined and thrashed a little, already so sensitive for him. He chuckled darkly, and you felt his presence leave you as he stood a few steps away.

 The second smack was even harder than the first, and you closed your eyes tightly, burying your face in the comforter. Your hands moved from resting beside your head to fisting the sheets. You struggled not to let out a cry and held on as the swats got faster and harder.

Yeah, it hurt, and it stung, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the burn. With his big hands, Sam could inflict a hell of a lot of pain, but somehow with you, he was always loving, even when he spanked you until tears ran down your cheeks. 

Like now, it was physically impossible for you not to cry out with every smack of his hand. You couldn’t tell which was worse, the burning on your ass or the heat in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t your fault that being punished for bad behavior turned you on like nothing else. And the heat became more and more intense with every slap. 

You could hear Sam grunting with effort, and even as he stopped, he was breathing hard. He stood behind you again, both hands on your now red ass, feeling the heat rise off of it. He ran one finger delicately up the slit of your pussy and hummed his approval.

“Oh, you’re soaked for me, aren’t you baby?” He rasped, his voice low and gruff, loving the way you sounded so desperate for him. “Bet you like that, huh? Listen to yourself, my little slut can’t help but cry for me.”

He let his finger hover over your dripping hole, teasing you, and your hips involuntarily moved back, searching for more. You heard the smack before you felt it this time, his hand coming down loud on your ass, forcing a whimper from you.

“Behave, kitten,” Sam growled. You went limp again under his hands, too tired already to resist his commands, and he wasn’t even close to finished with you. He ran the tips of his fingers over your ass and up your back, light soothing touches that he knew you liked to help ground you. “Now, do you think you’ve learned your lesson, baby? Not to disobey me again, especially in public, when I’m trying to take you out for a nice date?”

“Mhmm,” you whined into the comforter. Sam answered with another several hard smacks on both sides of your ass. You hissed at the contact. The familiar burn that had faded slightly came rushing back, causing your legs to twitch and heat to shoot straight to your core.

“Nope,” He said, popping the “p” and twisting his fingers into the roots of your hair, pulling you upward and causing you to arch your back. You could see his snarl out of the corner of your eye. “You’re gonna answer me out loud or I’m gonna put you over my knee, and believe me, that’ll be a lot worse for you. Let’s try this again: have you learned your lesson?” 

“Yes, sir!” You cried, much louder than before. “Yes, I promise I have. Please!” The waiting was getting too much for you to bear, and your voice slipped into the tone you only used for begging.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me, princess?” he sneered, turning your face towards him and coming much closer. God, he’s intimidating, you thought as more tears welled in your eyes, and at least you knew he’d never truly hurt you. Wouldn’t wanna be his enemy. No way. 

“Yes, sir! I’ll be good for you! Just-- please-- please--” you paused, panting, almost sobbing now, not entirely sure what you were begging for. You just needed him, desperately. His light touch, his scent-- it was all too much without fully having him. You wanted him inside you, now.

“Please what, little girl?” Sam’s gravelly voice hissed. He let go of your hair, pushing off like he was disgusted with you so that you dropped back down, hard, onto the mattress.

“Please, sir,” you gasped, taking deep breaths, fists clenching beside your head. “Please, please, fuck me! I swear, I’ll never disobey you again!” You both knew that probably wasn’t true, but your desperate begging seemed to satisfy Sam because he groaned at your words. His big hands grabbed your waist, flipping you quickly over onto your back. You hissed as your sore backside came in contact with the comforter, but Sam didn’t appear at all sympathetic. 

His hands landed on either side of your head as he hovered over you, slamming his lips into yours harshly, all technique flying completely out the window. It was all teeth and tongue and passion, and you loved it. You moaned into his mouth as he bit your lower lip, drawing back slightly, dragging it with him for a moment before letting go, all the while rutting his cloth-covered cock on your sensitive pussy. 

He threw your arms around his neck, having you hold on so you sat up slightly, while his nimble fingers swiftly undid the clasp of your bra. He pushed your shoulders back down onto the bed, and you released his neck as he dragged the lace from your arms, throwing it somewhere behind him onto the floor. It had served its purpose for the night.

You lay on the bed, a little further up so your legs weren’t hanging off the side, and now completely naked as he stood over you, still completely clothed. You’d always sworn Sam could read your mind, and now was no different clearly, because his fingers flew down the front of his shirt, undoing all the buttons as quickly as possible. He yanked off the button-up, along with his white undershirt. Next to go were his dress shoes and socks. He kicked them off before undoing the clasp of his black leather belt and his dress pants and shoving them and his boxers down his legs. He stepped out of them and was back on top of you in a heartbeat. 

Sam kissed you again, hand fisted in your hair before moving his kisses to your jaw, then your neck, travelling downward, nipping and biting until he reached your chest. His tongue flicked over each of your now hard and pointy nipples. He took one point in his mouth, lightly sucking and licking until you were arching up into him. He rolled your other nipple in between his fingers, before his mouth moved to cover that one instead. He kept dragging the edge of his teeth along your sensitive points until you were practically crying under him.

With Sam, you never felt unbalanced. He gave each of your tits an equal amount of attention, whether it was his hand palming and grabbing and pulling, or his warm tongue lightly teasing the sensitive skin until you practically sang his praises. You’d never understood the importance of nipple play until Sam, but he’d helped you to branch out, and at this point, you’d try almost anything if he suggested it. You highly doubted that Sam Winchester could be “bad” at anything in the bedroom. 

His mouth travelled downward still, leaving gentle kisses on your stomach, hands caressing your sides, until he knelt in between your legs, pushing you thighs open, giving him a full view of your dripping entrance. The way he looked at you was downright predatory, and you whimpered under the intensity of his gaze. “So sexy,” he whispered in a raspy voice, tongue poking out to wet his lips, “and all mine.” 

As the last word left his lips, he thrust two of his thick fingers inside of you with no warning. You gasped and moaned, arching your back up off the bed, much to Sam’s delight. He groaned loudly and fisted his cock, now dripping with pre-cum, with his other hand. He swiped his thumb over the slit, collecting the liquid on the tip of his finger.

“Look what you’ve done to me, kitten,” he said, his voice full of lust, as he stuck his thumb onto your tongue, letting you lick it clean before hooking his thumb into the side of your cheek and jerking your head to the side, watching as you sucked on his thumb. Sam had once said that he could tell just from looking at you that you had an oral fixation, and he was definitely correct. You were so desperate for something in your mouth that almost anything would do at this point, and Sam loved to watch the way your mouth moved around his fingers. 

He fucked in and out of your pussy roughly, watching as you keened with every drag of his fingers. He yanked his other hand away from your mouth so he could press one of your thighs down flat onto the bed, effectively changing the angle of his shallow thrusts. Pressing his fingers inside of you as far as they could go,  he fluttered them up and down, watching your face as your jaw dropped and you cried out in pleasure. 

“Please, sir,” you begged. “Please, I’m getting close! Can I— can I come, please, Sam?” You felt the faded heat from before come surging back, much faster than before. The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you fought to push it back down. 

“No.” Sam slapped your cheek with the hand that had been in your mouth, still wet from your saliva. “And what did you call me? Whose are you?”

“Yours, Sam! Yours, sir!” you cried loudly, gasping from the smack he’d given you, the slight sting giving you a brief high. “Only ever yours, sir!”

He grabbed your jaw in one hand forcing you to look at him, mascara and tears running down your face, just like he liked you, “You already won’t be able to sit for a week,” he growled, “and now, you won’t be able to walk either.”

Pushing your thighs up and back, he pulled his fingers from your soaked and trembling pussy, lined himself up with your slick entrance, and thrust completely into you in one motion, forcing a guttural noise from you at the impact. Sam grunted as your walls tightened around him, and without pausing to give you time to adjust, he picked up a brutal pace. Your legs tightened around his waist, hooked over his hip bones as he practically folded you in half. He groaned at the feeling of you and intertwined his fingers with yours, pinning your wrists flat to the comforter on either side of your head. He held himself up over your body as he fucked into you, supporting most of his weight on his forearms. His teeth nipped at your shoulder, as his head dropped to plant bruising kisses all over your neck and collarbone. 

Loving the noises he drew from you, Sam had no intentions of slowing down anytime soon, and you were hurling towards your climax faster than ever. As your pussy tightened around him, he made a noise halfway between a moan and a growl, thrusting in as deep as he could, trusting you could take it. Soon enough, your cries of pain turned to whimpers of pleasure, nearly drowned out by the sound of skin on skin as his hips slapped repeatedly against your ass. Fresh tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, but you were helpless to do anything, except lie there and take it. 

“Fuck, sir! Please— I’m about to come!” you cried. “It’s so so good— Please, can I come, sir?”

“Oh, fuck, babygirl. You’re doing so well for me. You can hold it just a bit longer, princess,” Sam moaned in your ear, holding you down still so you wouldn’t slide around from the force of his hips pistoning into you. 

“I— I can’t! Please, sir!” you were sobbing again, gasping for breath. “I just need to— Please— let me, please!” You were panting now, eyes closed tight, and every word was bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Not yet, little girl,” Sam let go of your hands and pushed up off you, pulling out of you at the same time. You whined pitifully at the loss of his touch, your walls now clenching around nothing. You looked up at him and saw his brow glistening with sweat, pieces of hair clinging to his forehead. His chest rose and fell as he sucked in deep breaths. His huge hands grabbed around your waist, flipping you over onto your stomach. He yanked your hips back, pulling your ass into the air and slamming into you again, with no regard for the heat still burning in your stomach.

“Sam, I—” he cut you off with a harsh smack on your ass, and you cried out loudly. 

“I know you didn’t just call me that again, princess,” Sam practically spat the words at you, his already low voice made even lower as he grabbed your arms, yanking you up against his chest. With that leverage, his thrusts slowed considerably, but it hardly mattered, because the new angle allowed him to hit the parts of you that only he could. You moaned desperately, recalling how before him, you hadn’t even known it was possible to feel that much that deep. You felt your walls clench again, and you were sure he felt you tighten around his thick length. 

“Tell me,” he demanded, calmer this time, reaching down to rub circles around your clit in time with his thrusts, eliciting several much higher pitched noises from your throat. “Who fucks you so good every damn time? Who owns this pussy?” His hand moved from your shoulder to your throat, not yet squeezing your airway, but pinning you to him, and effectively cutting off any other movements you’d tried to make.

You could only moan in response. He was hitting so deep, and you couldn’t focus on anything else except his thrusts and his hands holding you against him, his hot breath panting in your ear. When you didn’t give him a sufficient answer Sam’s fingers on your sensitive clit stilled. You barely had time to register the loss before his hand came down with a smack, right where his fingers had just been. You bit back a scream, but when his hand came down on your pussy for a second time, you couldn’t help the high-pitched yelp that fell from your lips.

“Tell me whose this is! Now.” Sam’s hand on your throat tightened quickly with the last word before loosening again to allow you to speak, or as much as you could with him pounding into you relentlessly. This time you gasped and managed to speak, your voice sounding like the words had been dragged out of you.

“Yours, sir! It’s yours-- only ever yours! You own it, ruined me for anyone else! You fuck me so good, please-- Please, can I come, sir? Please, Daddy!” Your orgasm was so close now, it was becoming physically impossible to hold off, so you pleaded with him one last time. Using the nickname you knew he couldn’t resist, you let go of the last bit of your pride, completely submitting to the man behind you.

Sam made a guttural noise, as his dull teeth bit into your shoulder, and you felt him start to twitch inside you. He must’ve been painfully close, too. He raised his head, rasping, “Yes, baby. You can come, been so good for me--”

His fingers began to stroke your clit again, faster and harder, and his hand slowly tightened around your neck. You closed your eyes as you felt the overwhelming sensation begin to wash over you.

“Yes, baby-- That’s it, kitten. Come on my cock-- lemme feel you, sweet girl. So pretty, baby… Oh--” he cut himself off with a moan as your walls constricted around him, and he let go off your throat. With the sudden intake of oxygen, your orgasm hit you like a truck, and your mouth fell open as your head dropped back on his shoulder. It was a good thing Sam was still holding you up, because had you been standing or supporting your own weight, you would’ve collapsed immediately.

Once you found your voice, you screamed so loudly, you were positive the whole bunker knew how good Sam was to you. You cried out again as your pussy spasmed in waves, “Daddyyy-- Ohh, fuck! So good--”

Sam groaned deeply, his hands squeezing harshly at your tits, and as your orgasm began to fade, you felt his dick twitch violently. Seconds later, he was spilling hot ropes of cum deep inside you, and you moaned again at the feeling of him. He hugged your body tightly to his front, gasping against your neck as he rode out his high. With one last push of his cock, he collapsed, on top of you, careful as always not to crush you. He lingered there for a few seconds more before gently pulling out of you, sucking in a gasp of air as he did. 

He rolled over on his back next to you, and his green eyes met your droopy ones. “How ya doin’, darling? You with me?” You whined pitifully, and he pulled you into his strong arms, holding you tightly, grounding you. “Shh, shh, shh,” he petted your hair gently as the noises from you gradually ceased. 

He held you like that for a while, letting you recover a bit before murmuring, “You’re okay, princess. My good girl, did such a good job for me, baby. My perfect, precious little girl. You wanna go get cleaned up, so we can sleep, kitten?”

You whined again, burying your face tightly into his chest, not wanting to move or leave his arms, even for a second. Sam kissed the top of your head gently, pushing your hair back from your forehead and sighed, recognizing you were still pretty far under, “Oh, I knoww sweetheart. I promise we’ll be quick, and then we’ll come right back to bed. And I’ll put lotion on you, so you won’t be as sore tomorrow. Come on.” 

He grunted as he got up from the bed, lifting you to his chest and carrying you to the bathroom. He set you down on the toilet, making sure you went pee, before carefully lifting you into the hot bathwater he’d just prepared. You cried out for him, hands opening and closing as you reached for him.

“It’s okay, honey,” he shushed you gently. “Daddy’s coming.” He stepped into the warm bath and settled down behind you, pulling you flush against his chest, calming you down instantly with his touch. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s get you all cleaned up.”

His big hands cupped the water, gently pouring it on your head, careful to avoid getting soap in your eyes as he gently washed your hair, rinsing until the bubbles disappeared. He wiped away the remnants of your makeup with a washcloth, mascara smudged with tears and glittery bits of eyeshadow. You leaned against him the whole time, feeling dazed still from your post-sex haze, and unwilling to part from him, his very touch soothing you. Tucked into his chest, eyes closed, you let Sam’s hands wash all over your body, massaging most of the tightness and soreness from your tired muscles.

Once he was finished, he pulled on the drain, letting all the soapy water start to slowly spiral away. He stepped out first onto the bath mat, grabbing several fluffy towels from the rack near the tub and drying off quickly, before taking your hand and helping you stand. You held onto his strong arms as you climbed over the tall edge of the tub. Once you were standing steadily on the bath mat, Sam wrapped the soft, warm towel around your shoulders, rubbing down your legs with another to help you dry off. 

You sniffled and rubbed your eyes as Sam helped you into a bathrobe. He cupped your face in his hands, looking into your eyes, and kissing you on the forehead. Sam tugged the robe tighter around you before tying it closed. He slipped on a clean pair of boxers and took your hand, leading you back into the bedroom. He helped you climb up onto the bed and lie down. 

You hissed as the fabric of the bed came in contact with your sore and tingling ass and the bruised backs of your thighs. You whimpered and rolled over quickly onto your stomach to relieve the pressure, looking up at Sam pitifully from under long eyelashes. Sam looked down at you sympathetically, stroking your hair. 

“Oh, my poor sweet baby,” he fussed over you, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your back. “Let me go get your smell-good lotion, so I can help some of those bruises not hurt so much, okay?”

“Uh-uh,” you said, shaking your head. Sam looked at you, confused. “Your lotion, please? Smells like you,” you explained shyly, staring down down at the comforter. 

Sam smiled, nodding, “Of course, baby. I’ll be right back.” He slipped into his room to find his lotion while you waited for him on the bed. He tried to move as quickly as possible, knowing you hated being without him in your current fragile state of mind. He snatched the lotion from his nightstand. It wasn’t like he was in his room often anymore; he always slept with you in your room, but he still kept most of his stuff here.

He jogged back down the hall to where you were waiting on the bed. “Okay, little love, do you wanna keep the robe on or take it off?” You began shrugging off the robe as an answer, and Sam helped you untangle yourself from it before laying it over the back of the chair near your bed. He knelt on the bed next to you and pumped some of the lotion into his hands.

“This might be a little cold, darling,” he murmured before rubbing the lotion gingerly onto the backs of your thighs. You whimpered a little because of the cold lotion and Sam’s hands moving up to soothe the skin on your ass. He looked at the bright red skin where he’d left handprints a little while ago. He winced as you did when his hands passed over it, questioning if he’d gone a little too far. He rubbed the lotion in gently until your skin felt smooth and no longer as hot as it had been before.

He looked at your face, turned towards him, resting on the comforter. Your eyes were closed peacefully, and he knew you were ready to go to sleep. He turned off all the lights, and whispered gently to you, “C’mon, honey. Let’s get you under the covers so you can get some rest, huh?” 

You nodded sleepily and yawned as he lifted you up to his chest, pulled back the covers, and tucked you in, your head now resting on the pillow. You looked at him with droopy eyes and reached towards him, opening and closing your hands, wanting him to cuddle you.

He did the gesture back before walking to the other side of the bed and climbing under the blankets himself. He pulled you gently into his arms, and you let your head rest on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, allowing it to soothe you. Sam stroked your hair, kissed the top of your head, and hummed, “Was everything okay tonight, my little Valentine? I wasn’t too rough on you, was I?”

You shook your head barely, exhausted, but wanting him to know how much you’d enjoyed it, “Nuh-uh, it was perfect, Sam. You’re always perfect.”

“I don’t know about always perfect,” he chuckled softly, hugging you tightly to him. “But I do love you, princess.”

“I love you, too,” you sighed happily, nuzzling your cheek against him. 

He kissed your head once more, “Go to sleep, lovey. Got lots of time together to catch up on tomorrow, hmm?”

You didn’t answer. Your breath had deepened and steadied as you slipped off into sleep. Sam smiled to himself at how peaceful you looked. Yeah, no more separate hunts for a while, he thought, before he too drifted into a dreamless sleep.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! if you made it this far, you literally have my heart. please consider leaving me a comment or a reblog :))

Forever Tags: @downanddirtydean @klinenovakwinchester @deanwanddamons​

send an ask to be tagged!!

[noisyalmonddreamer]

We meet again

Character: Jason Grace

It had been a few days after your encounter with Praetor Jason Grace. You would have liked to see him again but understood that being Praetor came with lots of duties

You were sat on the hill next to the shrine to Jupiter. It had been quite a stressful day for you. Your schedule seemed almost 3 times longer than normal. So sitting down and watching the sun set, breathing in fresh air felt nice.

You laid down on the grass just relaxing when you heard someone talking.

You looked over to see a very agitated looking Jason leaving the Jupiter temple mumbling something about "Octavian" and "annoying auger" (Highkey love Octavian though so shhhh)

As he walked he re adjusted his robes and trying to flatten his hair, which looked like he had run his hands through multiple times.

"Hey! Praetor Grace!" He looked up at you for a second irritation dusted his face before relaxing slightly. "Hello (y/n) how are you? Are you adjusted well?"

"As well as I can be I guess. Everyone in my legion is pretty nice, but what was that? You seemed pretty pissed just now."

Jason sighed before rubbing the bridged of his nose. "It's nothing Octavian is upset about a bear shipment not making it here on time and then started complaining about his robes or whatever. I've just had a long day and an Octavian whining is making it worse."

You were about to try and sympathize with him when he seemed to realize what he had said "I am so sorry I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't really professional of me was it?"

You stood up, dusting of your legs. "No it wasn't but I think you deserve the right to not be professional. He's a big pain in the ass. He took my stuffy the other day! Mr Quak may never look the same!" You sighed dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. Jason laughed, readjusting his glasses again.

"I'm really sorry about that. But I should really get going I have some work to get done, see you later." Jason began to walk off when you grabbed his hand.

"Wait you deserve a break! Why don't we go on a walk or something. Just to keep your mind off some things?" Jason thought for a moment before sighing "sure I guess that would be fine. I need to head to the stables anyways."

Though the walk to the stables weren't normally that long it felt like it took twice as long as normal. You both laughing probably way to loud, disturbing others. It was nice to see Jason laugh. It proved he was an actual teenager and not a robot.

"So...when are you gonna tell me where you got that scar?" Jason shook his head laughing "not any time soon. I'm not trying to embarrass myself in front of you!"

"I'm sure it's not that bad!" He gave you a deadpan look which made you giggle more "oh so it must huge been something really stupid!"

After arriving at the stables you stayed and watched Jason work, then walked with him to dinner.

"You know I could walk myself to dinner right?" He asked you, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Oh yeah I know. I just think it's fun to talk to you, plus you're pretty cute."

Jason blushed, looking down before clearing his throat. "Well this was fun. Thanks for hanging out with me. I actually really needed it."

You nodded, smiling at him "you can't work yourself into the ground now can you Grace? I'm gonna make it my own personal goal to make sure you're taking breaks!"

Jason groaned sarcastically, smiling at you. "Well I guess that means we'll have to take more walks huh?"

[darkimaginarydesires]

Tease Me - Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

《 star wars fandom • din djarin x reader • mandalorian x reader 》

☆ you are responsible for your media consumption. this content has extreme warnings / triggers. this content may make some people uncomfortable. please be safe and take warnings seriously. if you need help or need to talk to someone, i am available for anyone ☆

♡ warnings: teasing, punishment, cunnilingus, p in the v, all is consensual this time  ♡

《 summary: a job requires you to play the role of the Mandalorian’s slave. when you decide to have a little fun, he decides to show you where teasing will get you. 》

「 Side Note: Reader and the Mandalorian have an understood arrangement regarding his helmet. Reader knows to not look at him when he takes it off, and he tells her when he puts it back on. Let's just say, they've done this many times, so they are used to it... enjoy! 」

-

“She’s my slave,” Din announced. “She goes where I go.”

The bouncer and you matched a reaction of shock, but both quickly concealed.

“Is that so?” He asked, looking you over once again. “How did you get a sexy little thing like her so indebted to you? I’d pay for the night, if you’re willing.”

You fought all urges to kill the man where he stood, and even through the thick coat of beskar, the Mandalorian could sense this tension rising. You retreated into the side of your master, knowing if you did not hide your growingly agitated demeanor you would break the false formalities and blow your cover. His arm reaching out to cover you further, which made you feel admittedly protected and at ease, the Mandalorian denied the man’s request.

“This one is not for sharing. I’ve grown quite attached to the way her tongue works.”

The man laughed obnoxiously and you could feel Din’s amusement despite his facade. You boosted forward, but you were stopped suddenly by an arm of beskar holding you back. The helmeted Mando looked down at you with a warning you knew translated to behave.

“Oh, I understand, I understand. If you ever change your mind, you know where I’ll be.”

You passed by the bouncer, Din’s gloved hand on the curve of your back to guide you. His thumb brushed under the hem of your shirt as he knew you liked - an attempt to calm you, and in his way, apologize for the necessary disrespectful tone.

You made your way over to the bar, sitting next to each other in the rather uncomfortable high tops. The Mandalorian signaled for two drinks. Sipping from his, he whispered the apology.

“You know I had to say something.”

“I know you won’t be appreciating my tongue any time soon.”

Din leaned in closer to you, if it wasn’t for the helmet, you could have felt his hot breath on your neck.

“That’s fine. I’ll make it up to you with mine.”

You looked up at him before taking a drink to hide your fluster. The effect he had on you was immense and he knew it.

“Mandalorian,” A man approached, his presence alone expressing his distaste. “You made it. Please, come join me, and bring your-“

“slave, working off a debt to me,” Mando finished, a little too enthusiastically for your liking.

Din’s hand brushed your skin again as he lead you to the secluded table set for two.

“I apologize, I did not expect you to be traveling in a pair, but certainly she can-“

“Sit.” The Mandalorian finished his sentence while commanding you by motioning with his hand. You placed yourself across his lap, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“I like the way you think, Mandalorian.”

The man motioned for one of his women to come over. She took similar position to you.

The men talked, but you were focused on another game. Your hand trailed across the areas of his chest not protected with armor. Your fingers found there way to his shirt collar and pulled down slightly to expose the skin of his neck.

“My turn to play,” you whispered, low enough only he could hear you over the bustling establishment. He tensed and gripped your thigh as your lips connected. You left love bites, licking and sucking sensually as you moved along. His grip on your thigh became instantly painful as you began grinding against him, feeling him harden.

“I want you, Mando,” you teased. “I need you to fuck me good.”

Your hand slipped underneath the table, out of sight, and massaged him gently. He grew harder by the moment as you played with him. He dug his hands into your thighs harshly again - a warning you ignored. You reached for his hand and guided it inside of your pants.

“I’m so wet for you, Mando.”

His gloved fingers naturally moved their way around your folds, the harsh fabric hitting your clit in an unexpectedly pleasurable way. You continued to palm him, mimicking his motions.

“I need you so bad,” you moaned. “Please, daddy, fuck me.”

To your surprise and the man across the table, your Mandalorian stood, tossing you over his shoulder with ease.

“Excuse me,” he announced before making his way over to the bathroom of the establishment.

He locked the door behind him and immediately pinned you against the wall.

“Do you think you’re funny?”

“A little,” you replied. “What? Did you not like that?”

“I’m going to show you how much I liked that.”

“Don’t you have more important business to handle than fucking a slave in a bathroom?”

“No.”

He spun you around and pressed your face into the wall roughly. He jerked your pants down and brought himself to his knees. You could hear the clang of his helmet against the floor as he took it off and buried his face into you, his tongue playing with your folds before focusing on sucking your clit.

“You’re going to regret teasing me, little one.”

His hands rubbed your thighs and backside roughly, spreading you apart for easy access. Your moans filled the small space. You reached behind and ran your fingers through his curls, tugging at him as he picked up his pace. Your legs nearly buckled as he ate you like he hadn’t eaten in days.

As his mouth disconnected, you immediately felt the wind down in your stomach and disappointment wave over you. He stood, wrapping his arms around your frame and nuzzling his face in your neck before burying himself deep inside of you. You cried out as he pounded you, the pressure in your stomach building again, but this time harder. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to silent your moans. He grabbed your hand and pulled it away.

“No, let them hear you. I want everyone to know you’re in here being fucked like the dirty little slut you are.”

His cock filled you harshly until it was pleasantly painful. You could not hold back your moans. His now ungloved hand reached around you to play with your clit, moving in circular motions. Your head fell back against his chest. You no longer cared about who heard you. You cried out as you inched closer and closer to finishing. Your legs began to shake.

“You didn’t think I’d let you come just like that, did you? After all you did out there?”

He pulled out and away from you all at once. You immediately felt the lack of his presence.

“Please,” you begged. “Please let me come. Please, daddy.”

The head of his cock pressed against your folds. He moved slowly, pressing it against your aching clit. You jerked back into him needing more. His hand connected with your ass with a sharp pain.

“Be a good girl now. Don’t you think you need to be punished?”

His hand connected with your ass again, and again, and again until the mere gentle touch of his hand hurt. He brought you away from the wall and moved you into all fours in the middle of the room. He grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled you back into him.

“Now, I want to hear you. If you hold your pretty sounds back, I’ll have to punish you again. Do you understand?”

You nodded as much as your head would allow.

“Yes, sir. Please, I need you.”

He filled you again, spreading you open as he pounded you. He pressed your face against the ground and nailed you so hard you were going numb. You moaned for him, not holding back. Each thrust sent you crying out again. His hand reached around, and played with your sore clit again. Instead of sensual circular motions, this time it was raw back and forth movement. You bucked away from him at the intensity, but he held you in place. You shook under him as you released, your walls clenching around his cock. He buried himself as deep inside of you as he could to fill you with his come. You both rode your orgasms together before he collapsed over you, both of you breathless and sore.

He sat back against the wall of the bathroom, pulling you into his chest. You were careful to keep your gaze down as you rested against him, your skin against the chest armor he was still wearing.

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before teasing me,” he warned. He kissed your cheek sweetly and then kissed down your jaw. You looked forward, but appreciated the limited beauty you could see out of the corner of your eye, the way his sweaty hair fell into his face. You closed your eyes and turned your face to connect your lips with his. You brought your hands to his cheeks and his curls, taking full advantage of his helmet being removed.

“If it means you fucking me like that, you can call me your slave anytime, and I’ll happily tease you in public.”

He pressed his lips against yours again and you could feel his smile. He pulled your hands away from his face gently, which you knew meant he was returning the helmet.

“You can open your eyes, darling.”

You did. You were unable to suppress the ping of disappointment you felt in your chest as you stared into the blackened screen, but you hid it from him as you always did. You both stood, readjusting your clothing to look presentable again.

“Ready, love?” He asked, unlocking the door.

You walked toward him - or tried to walk toward him, despite the aching pain you felt with each step. His intoxicating laugh filled the room.

“Do you need help?”

“No,” you responded quickly. “Maybe.”

“If they didn’t know you were fucked good before, they will now.”

He picked you up bridal style, your arms wrapping around his neck. As you left the bathroom, you could feel the peering eyes on you and your Mandalorian. You buried your face into his neck, avoiding the stares as best you could.

“Can we please get out of here soon?” You muttered.

“Oh no, this is still part of your punishment, pretty girl. Let them look and imagine all the ways I fucked you.”

You returned to the table, sitting over his lap the same way you had before, but this time you knew better than you play your games.

“So,” the Mandalorian began. “Where were we?”

[buckybarnesdollface]

Is This A Bad Time?

Summary:  Bucky's so desperate to see his girl after a long mission, he rushes to her place without stopping at the compound to debrief. Poor Steve ends up on the end of a phone call he most definitely didn't want to be on.   

Warnings: Smut, fluff, f/m, embarrassed Steve Rogers, Bucky and reader are both cheeky little shits   

           “Honey, I’m home!”

            I let the dishcloth fall into the sink and then I was running out to the hallway as my heart beat erratically in excitement. He stood in the doorway, still in full tactical gear, dark circles under his blue eyes and a few scrapes on his stubbled face, but a wide grin curved his lips upward when I skidded into the hallway to greet him.

            “Bucky…” I breathed, and when he held open his arms I threw myself into them and pressed my face into his chest. He smelled like smoke and sweat and leather but after three weeks of not seeing him while he was on mission in Lisbon all I cared about was that he was warm and solid and here.

            “Missed you, doll,” he murmured into my hair, arms tightening around me.

            “I missed you, too. Three weeks is too long.”

            Bucky pulled away from me, blue eyes sparkling. “Aw, baby girl, did ya miss me lovin’ on ya every night?” he teased, and I gave him a wicked smirk.

            “Maybe a little,” I taunted. “Good thing I kept that vibrator Nat gave me for the secret Santa last year; it got me through more than a few lonely nights.”

            Just as I’d hoped, I struck the right nerve. Bucky’s eyes narrowed as a low growl rumbled in his chest. “You tellin’ me you’ve been gettin’ yourself off without me, doll?” he said in a low voice, and I shrugged.

            “Like I said, soldier; three weeks is too long.” I winked at him. “Don’t worry; I still screamed your name if that makes you feel better.”

            The next thing I knew, I was pushed up against the wall and his body was pressed against mine. I couldn’t help the little whimper that escaped my lips when he fitted a thick thigh between my legs, and a devilish grin stretched his lips slowly.

            “Oh, baby girl,” he breathed. “I missed the pretty sounds that you make.”

            I fought to keep my composure, but three weeks of living without his touch had me melting against him now. “When did you get back?” I asked him, and he grinned.

            “Just now.”

            My eyes widened. “You didn’t even check in at the compound? Buck, you’re supposed to debrief after every mission, or at least let someone know you’re back,” I scolded.

            “I did let someone know,” he murmured, nose skimming along my jaw as his hands slipped under my shirt and gripped the flesh of my hips. “As soon as I landed I came right to your place to tell you I’m back.”

            I wanted to scold him more, but oh, his hands on me felt so good and his words had my heart fluttering. “Bucky…” I breathed, and he ducked his head to pepper kisses along my throat.

            “Had to see my best girl before I did anything else,” Bucky mumbled into my skin. “Had to show her just how much I’ve missed her the past few weeks.”

            Losing the last of my resolve, I crashed my lips to his, hands fumbling to unzip his leather jacket and slide it from his shoulders. It hit the floor with a soft thud, and then Bucky’s hands were sliding under my thighs and lifting me up as he kissed me hungrily. He carried me to the bedroom and dropped me onto the bed.

            Deft fingers made quick work of the laces of his combat boots, and then he was kicking them off and climbing onto the bed after me. His lips reattached to mine as his hands massaged my breasts over the thin cotton of my t-shirt.

            “Mmm, no bra,” he murmured. “It’s like you knew I was coming home, doll.” I keened when he pinched my nipples between his fingers and thumbs, back arching off the mattress. “So responsive. Can’t believe I went three weeks without this.”

            “Need you, Buck,” I whined shamelessly.

            “Not near as bad as I need you, doll.” Bucky was quick to rid me of my shirt, mouth latching onto a nipple, and I gasped. His flesh hand slid down my body to slip under the waistband of my leggings, and he groaned as his fingers swept through my folds. “Already drippin’ for me, baby doll. Can’t wait to get a taste of this.”

            I shook my head, fingers curling around the front of his Henley. “Later,” I panted. “Right now I just need to feel you inside me.”

            The smug look on Bucky’s face transformed into something darker, and then he was practically tearing the rest of our clothes from our bodies. Lining himself up with my entrance, he slid into me in one forceful thrust. I cried out, nails scratching down his back as his length filled me completely, stretching me until it was almost painful. Bucky groaned, face pressed into my neck as he held still to give me time to readjust to him, his flesh hand kneading the flesh of my hip.

            “Fuck, doll,” he grunted. “You good? ‘Cause I don’t know how much longer I can hold still.”

            In answer I rolled my hips up into his and his fingers on me tightened. I whimpered as he pulled out of me and then thrust back in, slow but forceful, unable to focus on anything but how good it felt to finally have him inside me again after three weeks apart. He didn’t miss a beat, hitting all the spots in me that had me a whiny mess for him in no time.

            “Bucky…” I keened as he delivered a particularly hard thrust, and his lips curved up into a grin.

            “That’s it, baby girl,” he praised. “Let me hear you. God, I missed the pretty noises that mouth of yours makes when I’m inside you.”

            His words sent a fresh flood of arousal to my core, and I had just pulled him in for a searing kiss when all of a sudden his phone began to ring, the sound shrill and harsh in a room that was silent save for our sharp breaths and flesh against flesh.

            I paused, but Bucky’s thrusts didn’t cease. “Aren’t you gonna answer that?” I asked.

            “Nope.”

            “But it could be important –”

            Bucky cut me off as he lifted my hips off the mattress to hook my legs around him, hitting me at a new angle that left me breathless.

            “This is what’s important,” he growled, one hand snaking up my torso to pinch a nipple. I squeaked and he smirked. “I haven’t seen my best girl in three weeks. My top priority right now is making up for those three weeks.”

            Eventually the phone stopped ringing, and with a grin Bucky resumed his movements with more vigor.

            “So good, doll,” he grunted a couple of minutes later, after we’d both fallen back into the previous pace we’d set. My head fell back into the pillows, eyes squeezed shut as I felt the coil tightening in my belly. I was so close…

            The phone ringing sounded even more shrill and annoying the second time. I opened my eyes to give Bucky a pointed look. He pursed his lips and then reached over to the bedside table to pick it up and check the screen.

            “Who is it?” I asked.

            “Steve,” he replied, and then to my shock he shut the phone off and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed with a dull thud on the pile of our discarded clothes on the floor. My eyes widened.

            “Bucky!” I cried. “You can’t just do that!”

            “I can,” he murmured, trailing open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, “and I did.” His hands roamed my curves as he rutted into me. “Like I said, doll; you’re my priority right now. Everything else can wait until later.”

            I wanted to argue with him – I had told myself when we’d first started seeing each other that I wouldn’t let myself get between him and his work. Being an Avenger meant he had responsibilities that often had to come before anything else, and I respected that. But god, the way he felt on top of me and inside me right now…He could tell me he planned on stealing the Mona Lisa and I wouldn’t care as long as he kept making me feel this good.

            In one swift move Bucky rolled over, putting me on top. His hands on my hips were firm as he rocked me against him, and the moan that escaped my lips was obscene. Bucky smirked, but that smirk quickly turned into a sinful groan when I bent down to suck lightly on the pulse point at his throat. His hands slid from my hips to my ass, kneading the flesh and then delivering a quick but sharp slap that had me crying out his name and adding more heat to my already-flooded core. Just a few more well-placed thrusts and I would be…

            “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bucky snarled as we were interrupted for a third time. This time it was my phone, and for a second Bucky looked like he was contemplating throwing it against the wall across the room.

            “Don’t even think about it, Barnes,” I warned, and with a roll of his eyes and an exaggerated sigh he reached across the bed to answer the call and put it on speakerphone. I made to slide off of him, but the vibranium hand still on my hip held me firmly in place.

            “I swear to god, Rogers, the world better be fucking ending right now or I’m gonna kill you,” Bucky growled, and I arched an eyebrow at him, which he only returned with a shrug.

            “I knew you were at (Y/N)’s,” Steve replied accusingly over the speaker. “That explains why you’ve been ignoring my calls.”

            “Yeah, of course I’m at (Y/N)’s,” Bucky retorted. “I haven’t seen my girl in three weeks; where else would I be?”

            “How about in your debriefing meeting? You know the protocol, Buck. We debrief before we do anything else. Tony is pissed.”

            “Tony can suck it,” Bucky muttered. I stifled a snort and Steve sighed.

            “Not to mention the fact that you didn’t even let anyone know you had returned. What if something had happened to you, jerk? We’d have no idea.”

            “Stop being such a punk, Steve. The quinjets all have GPS on them, you knew I was back in New York.”

            “Can you just get to the compound ASAP so we can do this debriefing? If you hurry up, we can get it done and over with.”

            “Can’t, Stevie, I’m a little busy right now. The debriefing can wait till later; nothing’s gonna change.” As he said this, his fingertips traced the dips and swells of my body with the lightest of touches, raising goosebumps on my skin and having me involuntarily rocking my hips against his. Caught off-guard, Bucky let out a grunt and we both froze, our eyes wide.

            “What was that?” Steve asked, and I watched as the flush crept up Bucky’s neck to his cheeks.

            “I, uh…tripped,” Bucky lied, “over (Y/N)’s cat.”

            I had to bite down on my hand to keep from laughing. Bucky glared at me, but there was a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

            “You tripped over a cat,” Steve deadpanned, clearly not buying it. “Mhmm. Since when are you clumsy enough to trip over a cat?”

            “Since I just spent three weeks on a mission in Lisbon,” Bucky replied. “I’m exhausted.”

            His voice was tight, but not because he was annoyed with Steve. I had started rolling my hips against his, growing impatient with this phone call. Bucky’s eyes widened, and his jaw clenched as he fought to control his breathing. He narrowed his eyes at me, but I only smiled sweetly.

            “I get that you’re tired, Bucky,” Steve sighed on the other end of the line, “but we’ve got responsibilities. Let’s just get this debriefing over with. It’ll take twenty minutes, and then you can spend the next two weeks with (Y/N) if you want to.”

            A wicked grin on my face, I traded in grinding my hips into his for bouncing up and down, his cock sliding in and out of me deliciously. Bucky’s jaw went slack, and then he was sucking in a deep breath before speaking. “I told you, Steve, I’m…Fuck.” His eyes fluttered shut and his head hit the pillows as I picked up the pace. He waited until his breathing evened out before continuing. “I’m busy,” he finished, and I smirked as he shot me a look that screamed, “You’re in trouble.”

            “Busy doing what?” Steve demanded, his voice rising. “What the hell is going on over there that has you disregarding protocol?”

            With a devilish grin, Bucky lifted his vibranium hand to where we were joined and pressed his thumb to my clit. He began to rub circles on it with increasing pressure, and even though I fought hard to contain myself I was so tightly wound by this point that even the slightest pressure had me wrecked. I let out a sound between a whine and a moan, and Bucky looked triumphant as I fell forward until our chests were pressed together. He thrusted up into me slowly and I held my breath, knowing there was no way Steve hadn’t heard me.

            Things were silent for a moment, and then a cough came from Steve’s end. “Are you…Are you guys…?” he choked, unable to finish the question. My cheeks were flaming and I buried my face against Bucky’s shoulder; to hide my embarrassment or to keep from laughing I wasn’t even sure. Bucky was full-on laughing, his chest rumbling beneath me.

            “I told you I was busy, Stevie,” he chuckled pointedly. “Maybe you should have just left me alone.”

            Just imagining the flustered look on Steve’s face was enough to send me into a fit of giggles, and then Bucky and I were both laughing. Steve finally cut us off, his tone clipped.

            “You two are both disturbed individuals,” he said. “Just…” He stopped, as if to shake his head. “I expect you to be here in an hour.”

            Bucky smirked. “Aye, aye, Captain,” he taunted, and then he hung up the phone before Steve could say anything else. We both burst into fresh fits of laughter.

            “Poor Stevie,” I breathed. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to face him again.”

            “Maybe he should have minded his own business, then.” Bucky’s hands grabbed onto my ass and squeezed playfully. “Now, where were we? We still have at least half an hour before I have to leave and there are so many things I want to do to you in that time.”

            As he spoke, he thrusted up into me hard, and my gasp quickly turned into a wicked grin. I was so glad to have him home.

[potentialproblem01]

More Padre!Domingo coming right up aka Daddy Sunday pt. 2

As per usual, all my immense love to @creme-bruhlee and my Daniel server for being a sounding board and to @gwaciechang cheering me on to the finish of this one. 

Contained herein is 1.7k of somnophilia, unprotected sex, ambiguously negotiated kink, and further disrespect to Spanish Catholicism. If you’d prefer ao3 and Part One. Stands alone. 

Rahab

Exodus 34, Joshua 6

You and Padre have been seeing each other for a while now, you’ve got a key to his place in the attic above the church. It’s a shame he’s an early riser since waking to the midmorning light above the city is one of the warmest things you’ve ever felt. 

Padre always gets up early for work and you always come in late from classes and there’s always so little time for the both of you. What little time you get to yourselves is used for fucking and sleeping, not that you really complain about it, it’s just how things are. 

It’s verging on summer, sticky heat tagging along to the end of the wet season. You’d gone out the night before and when you came in, he’d already been asleep. You were quiet, careful not to disturb his night before Mass beauty sleep. You had peeled off your boots by the door, yanked your socks and panties off and dived into bed still half clothed. He’d slung an arm around you, pulling you close, nuzzling into your sweat lank hair. The last uppers were worming their way through your system in a heady buzz as you snuggled into him like a second skin before conking out.

You woke when he got up for work the next morning, watching him dress lazily from the bed. Your head was cottony but you forced yourself up to hydrate and pull the rest of your clothes off. He watched you unzip your skirt, giving you a swat to the ass as you pulled it down. You gave him a filthy kiss before he headed out the door. 

You left your clothes on the floor and went to shower, scrubbing the grime from the club off. You towel off preliminarily, the heat of the day will dry you the rest of the way as you collapse back on top of the bed sheets to sleep the rest of the morning away.

---

The late spring sun rises through the upper windows, casting the afternoon in stained glass tinted light, not enough to wake you but enough that when Daniel comes in, your skin is painted in the most delicious colors. 

He undressed quietly, hanging his shirt up and dropping his slacks in the laundry basket before quietly coming up to where you’re sprawled face down on the bed, ankle twisted in the white sheets. He sits gently on the edge of the bed, sliding a hand from your ankle to knee, skin soft in sleep, clean of glitter and sweat. He traces the lax tendons on the back of your knee before travelling up, lingering on the inside of your thigh but you don’t wake. 

He watches you for a few minutes, tracing sigils into your thigh before nudging them apart, dipping into the crease of your thigh, rubbing smoothly. He keeps watch over your face, looking for signs of consciousness. All you do is readjust your head against the pillows. 

His finger gets more adventurous, skimming over your folds to tease at the other side, picking up a hint of damp. He smirks to himself before leaning over you, whispering into your ear “Good dreams, Princess?”

He shifts himself between your legs, careful not to disturb you before stroking himself as he dances fingers across your entrance before slowly inserting one, waiting for a reaction. When none comes he grows bolder, adding a second and gently pumping them, drawing out your wetness. 

You’re wet enough for him to not have to worry about lube but he goes for some anyway, wanting you to wake to his cock being fully seated in you and not a second before. He slicks himself generously before crawling up the bed with the grace of a polar bear on thin ice. He’s vigilant in positioning himself over your thighs to get the easy angle. He approaches haltingly, adjusting himself with one hand around the base of his cock to guide and the other holding your lips apart. 

He checks that you’re still sound asleep before he breaches you, hands falling to the sheets by your shoulders to avoid further stimuli that could wake you. It takes immeasurable self control on his part not to thrust in all at once. It’s smooth and a self-inflicted torture so severe it cancels out the sin of committing it. 

He comes to be fully sheathed in you. He lowers himself to his elbows, rosary falling against your back in a warm cascade of beads, his hot breath fanning over you. You twitch in your sleep but don’t wake. He breathes through another quirk of his lips, you were always such a sound sleeper, secure enough in your position with God to never worry if you’ll wake again. 

He straightens his back, moving to lay more fully over your back, dragging his rosary through your hair, shifting on his elbows to box in your head, pulling back a hand to loop his overly large heirloom rosary around your throat too. 

He pulls out and thrusts all the way back in with all the violence of a man trying to earn his place with a personal God. This is what wakes you with a disoriented moan, dreams blurring with reality. You go to push yourself up only to be restrained by the sharp scent of myrrh and smoke all around you, warm skin pressing you down, beard hair scratching at the side of your face. 

“Do you know what I preached about today, mi cielito?” A thrust, “Of course you don’t. Are you familiar with Rahab?”

You shake your head as he thrusts into you at a leisurely pace, soft and sleepy moans spilling from deep in your chest compressed between the pure sheets and his ribcage.

“The righteous harlot.” 

You roll your eyes and try to wiggle some space to stretch your staticky limbs but are restricted by his beads chaining you to him. He feels you pull on them and shifts his weight again, freeing a hand to put his first bead and cross in your hand. 

“Pray for me, Princess. Contemplate our sins for me.”

You make a half hearted sign of the cross, earning you a thrust and a kiss to the side of your neck. You begin to recite the Apostles Creed, each line earning you half a thrust. “Was crucified, died, and was buried- Fuck!” He pulled all the way out and proceeded to thrust back in with a rough surety, grinding down into you, digging his teeth into your shoulder. 

“I don’t think that’s part of it. Start over.”

You let out a sob as you start the Creed over, trying to hurry through as he resumes his half thrusts. You close with a slightly hysterical ‘amen,’ the last of the sleep warmth leaving you for the heat of passion. The blood flow is no longer sluggish but concentrated in your core, flaring out in need. You make it through the Our Father before another sob makes you deviate from the script. 

Daniel tuts in your ear, “Do you need to start over?”

“No, please. I’ll be good.”

“Are you sure? You keep messing up. Do you need a corrective hand, Princess?”

“No, no. I can do it.”

“Prove it.”

You struggle through the Hail Marys’ and pull in a shaking breath, really hoping he took Charity to heart. He hasn’t let up on his thrusts, he intentionally holds you in the limbo of regularity and almost but not enough. You know better than to beg, he’s given you an instruction and you have to thread the beads through your hand and pray. 

He nuzzles into your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him. You make it through the first Glory Be and go to announce the first Mystery before you can’t take it anymore and struggle under him, trying to force yourself back on his cock. He pulls out, worming a hand under you to paw at your breast, pull at your nipple, “Bad girl. You still have an Our Father.” He presses you up into his chest, kneading at your breast, “Be a good girl for me.”

You struggle, feeling empty without is cock but you make it, begging to be delivered from evil. When you finish, he mutters an ‘amen’ against your throat as he stuffs his cock back in you, pulling the rosary from his neck to leave on you as he sets his weight against your lower back, pinning you down. He widens his stance and drives into you without delay. 

The power in his momentum shakes the bed, causing the headboard to knock against the wall, a rhythmic tempo to accompany you being crushed into the mattress. 

The sheets stick to your clean sweat as you edge closer, breathing hard and inadequately through your pillow. You whimper with the strength he’s using, bending your spine, wetly slamming into you. 

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, shuddering through you in one violent motion before you go limp under him; underwhelming and way too much.

He nudges your legs closed and you let him, creating a tighter channel for him to fuck into. He rebalances, one hand planted on your back, the other climbing up into your hair, yanking it back on the knife’s edge of pain. 

His nails bite into your skin and the grip on your hair tightens before he lets out a long and low growl as he comes. He lets go of your hair but not before, “You’re my blessed whore aren’t you?”

“God, yes.” For that blasphemy he slaps the side of your face he can reach, the angle is awkward but the point is made, you wiggle your hips, clench around his spent cock, “But I’m still in your bed.”

He huffs out a derisive laugh, pulls out, “That you are.” 

The mess of come and lube starts to cool between your legs, sweat growing tacky. You pull the beads through your fingers again, suck the bottom of the cross into your mouth and give him a half lidded stare before rolling over into a dry spot. 

He leans down and licks a stripe up your stomach before latching onto a nipple before you swat at his head and he lets up, coming up to kiss you. He nips at your lips but you deny him, pushing his face away. 

He doesn’t listen, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table to wipe himself off with before laying down next to you, pulling you into an embrace and throwing an arm over his eyes, ready to fall asleep on a Sunday afternoon with you. 

Part 3

[mellowswriting]

Meaning Found

pairing || Poe Dameron x Reader

summary || Sometimes it takes a crash and the fear that your best friend is dead to finally admit that you love his stupid ass.

word count || 3,466

warnings || language, allusions to sex, minor injuries, lots of teenage makeout sessions lmao

a/n || I rewatched the sequel trilogy and was reminded of my intense love of Poe Dameron, so this kind of just... happened. My first Poe fic, too, so I tried to nail his sarcastic, teasing personality but I don’t know how well I did. Let me know what you think!

Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

“Poe?” You called out, your hands cupped around your mouth in a vain attempt to amplify your voice through the trees. “Poe, where are you?!”

It had been hours since you crashed on this godforsaken planet, the smell of smoke and overheated metal rousing you from your unconscious state. The first thing you noticed after the awful smell was pain. Your calf was killing you, the pain radiating up through your entire leg from a long gash that thankfully wasn’t bleeding too badly. It just hurt like a bitch.  

Panic lanced through you when you realized your hot-headed pilot was nowhere to be seen. There wasn’t a single trace of him. No blood, no tattered clothes, no nothing. He was just gone. Fear thickened in your throat like glue, your lungs seizing under the weight of it. Still, you busied yourself with fixing what was left of the radio. Poe would be pissy if he came back and you hadn’t at the very least gotten a distress signal to the Resistance.

When he came back.

Poe would be back.

But then the radio was repaired and you managed to salvage some supplies from the wreckage of your precious ship - and Poe still wasn’t back. Enough was enough, you decided. Forget your fucked up leg, your pilot was out there somewhere, possibly in worse shape than you and in desperate need of help. So you found a branch that had been ripped from its tree when your ship met its untimely demise and tucked it under your arm in a makeshift crutch and got to hiking.

It was way more painful than you had expected. Each step had a sharp stab of fire-like pain bringing a wince to your face, but it seemed like the longer you walked, the more your body grew acquainted with the wound. It still hurt like hell, but the worry for Poe was far greater. The further you went, the more you really began regretting the choice to come on this mission. Your presence wasn't even entirely necessary - it was a damn supply drop for Maker’s sake. But when Leia herself asked you to have Poe’s back (and keep his pretty little ass out of trouble), you couldn’t very well say no.

Boy, was she going to get an earful if you got back.

When. When you got back.

“Poe, you shithead!” You screamed, your voice echoing off of the trees even through the rain. “I’m gonna leave your ass here, I swear! Where are you?!”

You barely heard it, the sound of his voice calling out your name. Hope lit in your chest, burning hotter than the pain that was now entirely forgotten as you took off through the trees, expertly dodging branches and raised roots as you went. His name fell from your lips over and over, hope falling away into relief when you realized his voice was growing closer.

The sight of Poe Dameron always took your breath away - not that you would ever admit that. It didn't matter when, it didn't matter the circumstance. He was too pretty for his own good, all sharp angles and dashing smiles. Even when you were at your grumpiest, usually as you sipped your coffee during morning briefings that always felt earlier than the last, his presence eased the heaviness that plagued your shoulders.

This time, it was infinitely more intense. Maybe it was the desperate way he crashed through the treeline. Maybe it was the huge grin that broke out across his face when he locked eyes with you. Maybe it was the way his arms immediately opened to embrace you and lift you from the ground, disbelieving laughter rumbling through his chest. Whatever it was, it had tears building in your eyes. For a moment, everything else was forgotten. The two of you weren’t stranded without a functional ship, you weren’t filled with fear and adrenaline, there wasn’t a painful gash in your leg. You were just in the arms of the one person who could make this whole shitshow a little bit better.

Out of nowhere, your relief gave way to fear. Sharp, debilitating, all-encompassing fear. You could have lost him. Poe could have died, or you could have died, and you wouldn’t have told him - fuck, he never would have known. Holy shit.

“Did you really have to call me a shithead, though?” Poe laughed as he put you down, his eyes sparkling with amusement. The gasp you let out when your feet touched the ground had that amusement disappearing, though. “Shit, what happened? How bad is it?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” You managed through the heaviness that clamped around your throat. Poe didn’t believe a single word that came out of your mouth, obvious by the way he sighed and shook his head. He ignored your protests and the way you slapped at his shoulders when he quite literally scooped you up. “Fuck, Poe, I said I’m fine -”

“You’re bleeding, you aren’t fine.” He gruffed out, readjusting his grip at your knees carefully. “Which way is the ship?”

The standoff only lasted a few moments, the both of you glaring at each other and waiting - Poe waiting for you to at least nod in a direction and you waiting for Poe’s dramatic ass to put you down. Of course, Poe won. When didn’t he? All it took was the jerk of your chin and Poe set off, grunting every now and then with the effort.

“You aren’t hurt, are you?” You whispered a few moments later. That fear was still rolling in your stomach. No matter how hard you tried to swallow it down, it still threatened to choke you up.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you know me. I’m tough as nails.” Poe laughed. He cleared his throat quietly when he saw the tears still gathered in your eyes. “Seriously, I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”

The endearing term made your heart flutter. Pet names fell from Poe’s lips like second nature, you were used to it. Blame the leftover adrenaline, but this time it hit differently, right in your chest. Without thinking, you reached up and brushed his sweat-dampened curls back from his forehead gently, careful not to accidentally tug with all the jostling as he carried you. Your lower lip trembled. “We could’ve died.”

“I know.” Poe’s eyes hardened. “I know, I’m so sorry.”

“Poe, it wasn’t your fault.” You chastised gently, your fingers automatically carding through his hair and gently untangling it. He leaned into your touch slightly and a small smile graced your lips. “You couldn’t have known this would happen.”

“You told me to take the northern route, I should’ve listened -”

“Come on.” You sighed. Always so hard on himself, this one. “I literally argue with you about everything. That’s what we do, you dork. There’s no actual difference between the north route and the west route and we both know that.”  

“Yeah, yeah.” Poe smiled softly down at you and your breath caught in your throat again. Damn it. The man really was gorgeous, even with the guilt that still lingered on his face.

“I wasn’t bitching at you or trying to say you got us into this, okay? I… I just realized that you… fuck, Poe.” Words failed you. Or rather, you failed your words. They were there. They had been there from the very beginning, but the overwhelming fear of losing his friendship choked the words from you time and time again.

You didn’t even realize you were back at the wreckage of your ship, too in your head to pay attention to the world around you. Poe set you down gently in the grass, apologizing quietly when you hissed in pain. Now that you weren’t adrenaline soaked and desperate to find him, your body was all too happy to let the pain flare back up.

“Let me get the bacta from the med kit,” Poe murmured, leaving your side for just a moment. He seemed just as anxious as you were, the idea of being apart making both your stomachs turn. Even just a few moments, even just a few feet of distance, it was too much. Poe kneeled at your side and easily tore the remainder of your pants from your calf, the comfortable material now only reaching just above your knee.

Cleaning the gash was no walk in the park, but the moment the bacta touched your inflamed, angry skin, you sighed. That shit was magic, no doubt about it. Nonetheless, Poe was still careful as he wrapped your calf, his every touch slow and gentle and the memory of the last time the two of you were like this bubbled to the forefront on your mind. The roles were reversed, of course, because it was almost always Poe making daringly stupid choices and ending up wounded, but you had been so scared of making the blaster wound to his shoulder worse that your hands shook.

There had been a gentle trust in his eyes when Poe reassured you that he was okay, that you would do just great. His normally confident voice became meek as he whispered that you were the only one he trusted to fix him up, so you better get to it. That was Poe. Always trying to cover up vulnerable moments with humor. But that sparkle of humor was nowhere to be found as he settled himself next to you. Hell, he could barely keep eye contact with you.

“What...what did you realize?” Poe whispered. Something in the way he was looking at you told you that he knew already, fear and hope and anticipation all plain on his face. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, something you had come to recognize as a nervous habit.

You drew in a deep breath, steadying yourself against the racing of your heart and the excitement that buzzed through your veins. It lit you up from the inside out, the very idea of finally, fucking finally, saying the words you had been itching to say for far too long. “I realized that we could’ve died before I told you how much I love you.”

Poe let out a shaky breath, those full lips parting and closing around words that couldn't seem to find their way into existence. A fleeting moment of panic wound its way through your chest at the idea that you had misread this whole thing, constricting your lungs in a vice-hold that threatened to choke the life out of you, but it was washed away by the sudden press of his lips against yours. On the many occasions you imagined what it would be like to kiss Poe Dameron, you envisioned it to be all teeth and gasping passion, but the reality was so much better than anything else your brain could have dreamed up.

Poe kissed you like you were the most precious thing he had ever had the privilege of holding in his hands. Your eyes fluttered closed the moment his lips brushed yours, a soft and reverent touch that pulled a wrecked sound from him. He leaned back, breaking the gentle embrace of your lips to study your face. There was a small crease between his eyebrows where he had them furrowed and you couldn't help but reach up to rub at the space with your thumb.

The smile that broke across his face was brighter than any sun in the galaxy and he pulled you to him. The second kiss was more confident, something you never thought Poe Dameron could be more of. The warmth of his tongue sliding along your bottom lip made a rough shudder slither down your spine and his hand at your cheek buried itself in your hair to tilt your head. The new angle let him press even closer to you and the quiet moan it drew from him had you practically giddy, excitement singing through your entire body. Somehow your hands found the collar of his shirt, your body moving instinctually as if it was commonplace, as if your body knew exactly how to move with his.

“I love you.” Poe whispered against your lips, pulling away just far enough to rest his forehead against yours. He kissed you again, a short one just shy of a peck. “I guess we’re both idiots, huh? Could’ve had you for so long if I had just said something.”

“You can have me now if you stop talking.” You teased and Poe grinned. It was a grin you had seen countless times, but this time it felt almost new. Like you were able to appreciate that pretty smile of his in a new light. “Kiss me again, flyboy.”

An almost wild groan rumbled through Poe’s chest and he did just that. Poe kissed and kissed and kissed you until you were both left with swollen lips and goofy grins. Neither of you could get enough, like you had been drowning and were finally up for air. There was nothing else that mattered. Not the slow establishment of peace and control that Leia had managed to bestow upon the galaxy. Not the sudden shifting of goals after the success of the Resistance. Not the sudden floundering for meaning.

Everything you were searching for, the meaning of it all post-war…

It was found in each other.

“Wait, did you radio anyone?” Poe asked suddenly, those pretty brown eyes blinking up at you inquisitively.

“What?” You were a bit dazed from the feeling of his tongue expertly taking you apart. It took your mind a second to remember how to process words.  “Uh, yeah, Leia sent Rey out to get us.”

“How long ago?”

“...Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking about right now.” You motioned between your chests, an eyebrow raised. Poe just stared at you expectantly and you sighed. He would wait there until the Falcon landed right next to you with his stubbornness. “Like three hours ago. Why?”

That devilish smirk reappeared like it never left. “Just wanted to know how much longer I get to have you like this.”

Heat creeped up your neck at the implication. “Maker, you are so annoying.”

Poe bit at his bottom lip and for a mere second you were distracted, wanting nothing more to be the one nibbling at him. But then he had to open his mouth again. “Yeah, and you love me. Says more about you than it does about me.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” You demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.” The words were whispered against your lips as he leaned in, once again dragging you into a makeout session that could rival any other. Like teenagers, the two of you, all wandering hands and teasing nibbles.

It wasn’t long until the telltale sound of the Millennium Falcon approaching pulled you apart - a good thing, too, because both of you were writhing for more than could happen in a field in the middle of nowhere. Besides, it was growing darker and being stuck any longer without shelter when the creatures of the night would begin creeping out to prowl wasn’t the best of ideas. You weren’t surprised that the little orange and white droid was the first down the ramp when the ship had settled on its landing gear.

“Hey, buddy!” The excitement in Poe’s was unmistakable as he crouched down to greet BB-8, the impact of his droid crashing into him knocking him right onto his ass. A series of inquisitive beeps made Poe sigh almost exasperatedly. “No, she’s fine, I took care of her leg.”

BB-8 rolled over and bumped at your legs affectionately, completely ignoring Poe’s indignant, “I’m fine, too, by the way!”

Rey appeared a moment later when you were kneeling to pat the droid and look him over, ensuring he hadn’t been harmed since the last you saw him. It felt a bit strange to care so much for the little guy but he was practically a little kid to you. You had started calling him Poe’s son as a joke long ago when you first met, but you had come to realize just how right you were.

“What the hell happened to you two? Did you forget how to pilot, Poe?” Rey called out as she walked up and immediately a loud bout of bickering began. To an outsider, it would look like these two hated each other but you knew better. Your little friend group would do anything for each other, especially after all you had been through together. All that was missing was -

“Finn!” Poe smiled and embraced his friend in a tight hug before slapping him on the shoulder. “I didn’t know you were coming, too.”

“You think I would miss seeing you two stranded together? Nah,” Finn asked as he pulled you in for a hug as well, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “I figured the two of you would’ve ripped each other's heads off by now.”

“Ha, ha.” You intoned sarcastically. “It’s nice to know that you two have careers in comedy now that the war is over.”

The playful jabs continued as the five of you settled into the Falcon, Poe keeping a hand on you at practically all times. On your lower back, on your hip, settled on your thigh. It seemed like now that he had the ability to touch you like he always wanted to, he couldn’t stop himself. It wasn’t long until his little game became obvious - seeing how long it would take for either of your human companions to realize something was different.

It didn’t take long for it to escalate. A hand on your thigh quickly became tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, which became affectionately rubbing the tension from your neck. Within fifteen minutes of flying through hyperspace, you had to leave the cockpit with some bullshit excuse just to keep yourself from curling up in his lap right then and there. You busied yourself in repairing the wiring you had been working on the last time you were on the Falcon, a simple job that was practically finished already save for untangling and reconnecting the wires and replacing the panel that covered it. Of course it took no time at all for Poe to wander off and find you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Hey,” Poe murmured before kissing your neck gently, swiping your hair out of the way to give him even more access. The scrape of his stubble against your sensitive skin made you shiver against him and you could tell Poe felt it by the way he smiled against your neck. “Love how responsive you are...you’re never getting rid of me now, sweetheart.”  

The lighthearted remark on the tip of your tongue melted away at the feeling of his tongue tracing that sweet spot just under your ear. You couldn’t help but lean back into his chest, one of his hands leaving your hips to brace against the wall. A low hum fell from your lips when Poe bit at your shoulder teasingly and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching back to run your fingers through his hair and hold him against you, your attempted repair completely forgotten in front of you.

Every touch had pleasure curling around your body, lighting up your every nerve with need and excitement. The man was a god, but if you told him that, it would pump up his ego to an insufferable level. Maybe you could handle it, the ridiculous amount of pride, if he would just touch you…

“Please,” You whispered, your eyes closing as your head fell back onto his shoulder, and you didn’t miss the hungry way he hummed against you. The arm that was wrapped around your waist shifted and his hand slid under your shirt, the shock of his warm skin against your stomach forced a gasp from you. His fingers dipped below your pants, just barely teasing at the hem of your underwear, and -

“I knew it!” Finn’s deep voice echoed harshly through the metal walls of the Falcon and you both jumped, damn near cracking heads in your surprise.

“No you did not!” Poe scoffed, letting you bury your face into his neck to hide your embarrassed face. Poe’s dismissal did nothing to curb Finn’s excited sprint back to the cockpit, screaming something about Rey owing him credits all the while. A short, huffed laugh fell from his lips as he pushed you back against the wall, facing him this time. “We can’t go back up there, they’ll be impossible.”

You set your chin against his chest with an agreeing hum. “We could just go to the bunks… carry on where we left off.”

Poe grinned at you. “Hell yes.”

[rodeoxqueen]

Of Lacking Spectacle(s)-Vergil/Reader

Summary: Vergil is a lot of things. Vergil is the Dark Slayer, The Alpha and The Omega, and the eldest son of Sparda. Vergil is also….in need of glasses?

Tags/Warnings: Suggestive Ending, Gender-Neutral Reader, Dante Read The Lord Of The Flies, Inspired By Vergil’s Buddy Holly Glasses Mod

Read It On AO3

Thank you @drusoona​ for sending me the pictures of Vergil that inspired this. The title is a reference to Gus Dapperton’s song Of Lacking Spectacle.

-Rodeo

(Picture Credits: @drusoona​) 

Vergil was always so precise and capable, sensing demons from distances away and predicting attacks with pinpoint accuracy. 

He was intense, his eyes purely focused on the task ahead of himself. A man of pure drive and prowess. And he was your man. 

It came gradually, something he tried to ignore. A few sentences of blurred lines would quickly flicker back to clarity. A small pain that flashed behind his eyes after reading in a room too dark. 

It didn’t look obvious to anyone. Even to his ever-doting beloved. He was the son of Sparda, a demon that surpassed Death multiple times. There was no way he could have failing vision. Impossible, he would scoff to himself as he rubbed his eyes. 

This statement soon turned from ignorance to denial of a very real problem Vergil avoided showing. His always narrowed stare hid it quite well. 

An anthill turned into a mountain he could no longer stamp down. And his beloved had already watched it build up for some time, waiting for the stubborn devil to say something about it. 

Which he didn’t. 

So when you were cooking some mac and cheese from a recipe you found from a friend who knew a friend who knew a friend who asked her son for the recipe, you decided to strike up the question. 

“Vergil.” 

“That is my name, yes,” Vergil said from the couch, enraptured in a new book you bought him. You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Are you having vision problems?” 

“Of course not.” Hand on your hip, you pointed your rue-covered spatula at him. 

“Then why is your nose literally in that book?” Vergil used to always be found with his book at arms-length as he would silently recite the words. 

He stilled. He quickly readjusted himself and coughed. 

Jackpot. 

“I haven’t a clue what you mean.” 

“Don’t lie to me in front of my macaroni.” You threaten, stirring the pot. He sighs. 

“My vision is just fine.” Vergil insists, squinting at the blurred words. 

“Vergil, I think you have vision problems.” 

“That’s foolishness.” 

“Why so?” 

“My father was a powerful demon, bad vision should not run in our family-” 

“Didn’t your dad wear a monocle?” 

His mouth dries and his eyes widen in realization. Oh god it was genetic. You have won the tirade and you puff your chest out. 

“How about I take you to the eye doctor? I can call later and set up an appointment.” Vergil has closed the book and chosen instead to look at you. 

The macaroni is boiling, a u-shaped pasta you are rather fond of. Your apron is speckled with flour and you twiddle the spoon in your hand. 

“Come on, it’ll be super quick. Just read some letters off a wall.” You say as you add burrata into the cheese blend. Vergil always liked that kind of cheese. 

When you went grocery shopping, he really thought you wouldn’t notice him taking more than three samples of it when no one was looking before walking off like a successful sample thief. 

Upon the sound of a bag of his favorite cheese opening, Vergil got up. You smile. You go to offer him a bit before quickly snatching it away from his hand. He tuts at you. 

“You can have some if you agree.” 

“Agree to what?” You sigh. 

“Eye doctor.” 

“No need. I am fine.” 

You turn to stir the pot of delicious pasta before going back to lecturing this stubborn devil. 

“I’ve noticed you’ve been squinting more and having headaches.” You state. Vergil scolds himself, thinking he was much more hidden about his new problem. 

He is quiet as he stares off into the pot of macaroni. 

“Please? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” You put your other hand on his cheek. He looks at you finally, ice-blue glaciers warming at your loving and concerned expression. 

God, his mate was so soft. He pulls your non-occupied hand to his other cheek-

And snatches the bit of burrata out of your fingers with his mouth. You make an offended noise at his trickery. 

“Very well.” He muses. 

You call up a local eye doctor after a hearty bowl of mac and cheese.  

Taking Vergil to the doctor was like taking a cat to the vet. He sat in the waiting room with his arms crossed and eyes intensely out-alphaing everyone in his general proximity.  

When they finally call your names, the ice was broken and people finally felt safe to breathe in his absence. 

The eye doctor guides Vergil to the examination room. Vergil does not like it already. Why would you do this to him? 

He waits at the door, waiting for you to come in with him. 

“Sir, this is more of a personal test.” You shrug and blow him a kiss as he is ushered into the room

“How long has it been since you’ve had an eye test?” The doctor asks, Vergil taking a seat with a strange contraption before him. 

“I have never had an eye test.” Vergil declares. The doctor laughs and swings the phoropter down. Vergil flinches slightly. 

“Whoa now. Just set your chin here and look into the eye holes. This isn’t some medieval torture device.” He growls at the humiliation before doing so. 

A series of lenses swiping through and the repeating question “which one looks clearer” later, Vergil is liberated from the examination room. He is greeted to you sitting and waiting for him. 

“It wasn’t too bad, right?” You ask. Vergil nods. You turn to the doctor. 

“So how is his vision?” The doctor flips through a few notes. 

“Well, the letter Z was on the board and I asked him what he saw and he said triangle.” The doctor flips through a few notes. 

“Your husband is in dire need of glasses.” Vergil raises an eyebrow at that statement. 

Your husband, he likes that. You don’t even correct him. 

Luckily, this clinic also sold frames and Vergil is able to pick out a few while you do the paperwork. 

You remember Vergil has no taste and quickly go to help him. 

“No, no, well maybe, no, ew.” You respond as Vergil swaps various frames about. 

“My love, I simply need the lenses. These materials mean nothing.” He argues as you deny the tenth pair of frames. 

“Well, you’re very handsome and I’d like you to get a nice pair that matches.” You say. You go to make a smug face at him when you realize he has finally walked away to pick out his own. 

You immediately drop the frames you were holding when Vergil places a certain pair of thick black-colored glasses upon his nose. 

“We’ll take them.” 

Several weeks later, Vergil is bestowed his new reading glasses. He finds his problem vanishes quickly and he can now read at a decent distance away. You seem to greatly appreciate them. Strange. On jobs, he usually takes them off and stores them in the little case he was given. 

He thought of it as weakness. If his own body was failing to maintain 20/20 vision, he should be ashamed. In the demon world, any bit of weakness meant imminent death. 

Yet, he told himself he wasn’t in Hell anymore. He was having breakfast with his beloved and he was safe. And he was privileged to be allowed for his body to take a break and age as it should have, his vision waning as a normal man would have at his age. 

You kiss him goodbye for another day of work and you push his glasses up as they tip slightly down. His nose does the little scrunch you love so much. So much, you kiss him on the bridge of the nose. He purrs and promptly cuts a portal to work. 

He walks into Devil May Cry to work with his brother. Dante is upstairs, the sounds of a shower happening. 

Vergil takes to the paperwork his brother has ditched doing once more, typing on a clunky keyboard. You had insisted to pay extra for blue-light protection and he finds it is so much easier to see the computer screen. 

Finally, the water is shut off. His idiot brother is done wasting work hours. Well, when is he not? 

Vergil continues looking through yellowed documents as Dante passes by, smelling like strawberry soap marketed for children. 

Dante walks forward but then puts himself in reverse to see Vergil with glasses on again. 

“Yes?” Vergil grits his teeth. 

“Those are glasses.” Dante starts. 

“Yes, yes they are.” 

Dante snorts and points at him. 

“Buddy Holly looking ass bitch.” Vergil stops and glares at his brother.  

“I don’t even know who that is.” 

 Dante wheezes at he keeps looking at Vergil. 

“Of course you don’t, you bag of bones! You look like a college RA.” 

“Dante, get to work-”

“What are you going to do? Tell the dean on me? Is that why you were gone a couple weeks ago?” 

“I had an appointment-”

“I hAd aN aPpOiNtMeNt.” Dante mocks. 

“That’s rich coming from someone without insurance coverage-” 

His spectacles are snatched from his face. Dante puts them on. 

“How do you see with these on? Damn, you’re legally blind.” 

“That’s why they’re mine-hand them over!” 

“You sound like Piggy from Lord of the Flies. My specs! My specs!” Dante mocks in a terrible English accent. 

Vergil growls in anger. 

When Vergil comes home with his glasses off, you wonder why. The blue devil comes behind you while you make some soup, hands on your waist and breathing in the scent of your shampoo. 

He’s quiet and in a way that is not his usual silence. He seems to have something on his mind. This time, you choose not to push it and let him be. 

It isn’t until you’re both in bed, the lamp on as Vergil goes to take out a new novel. He hesitates when he reaches for his black glasses. 

“My love?” 

“Yes, Vergil?” 

“Who’s Buddy Holly?” 

Weird question but okay. 

You search up the name on your phone and show him a picture. He puts on his glasses. 

“Why would Dante think I look like that?” He asks himself with a frown. Upon realization, you put your hand on your mouth and fight back a laugh. 

“Did Dante say that?” Vergil rolls his eyes. 

“Of course he did, amongst other things.” 

“Well, I think you look very nice. Like a very sexy college professor.” Vergil smugly looks at your bedroom eyes. The novel is long abandoned on the table. 

 Before he can pounce on you, he goes to take off his spectacles. You snatch them and place them back on his face. 

“Keep them on this time.” You bite your bottom lip teasingly. 

Vergil purrs. 

He might get used to this. 

[More Photos Of Vergil’s Mod-Credited To @drusoona​]

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 3) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2]

hello sorry for the wait my brain just be straight up farting sometimes

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

the president and the troublemaker (part 3)

When Lumine woke up, she was back in her bed at home, with Aether taking a damp towel off her head. The morning sunlight shined in through the window. 

“Did I sleep through the entire night?” Lumine asked, her voice hoarse. 

Aether hummed out a ‘yes.’ “I think your body was absolutely exhausted.” He sighed sitting down next to the bed. “Sis, you have to stop overworking yourself; I worry—we all worry.”

She gave a small nod. “I know. And I’m sorry.” 

“Just take the day off to relax, okay? I promise the whole world isn’t going to blow up.” He stood up. “Also, mind telling me why Childe of all people brought you back here?” he asked, eyeing Lumine’s hands. 

She hadn’t even realized it; her hands were set atop a red scarf—Childe’s red scarf—and only then did she vaguely remember him wrapping it around her as he carried her home. Clutching it, she answered, “About that...he may or may not have found out I’m Outlander.” 

Aether’s eyes widened. “He found out? And he didn’t tell the whole school?” 

“I’m surprised as well. He actually seems...nicer ever since he found out.”

“Maybe he’s trying to mooch off your earnings. Or blackmail you.”

“See, I thought that too, but he hasn’t done any of those things.” She gripped the scarf again. “In fact, he offered to be my coach.”

“Your coach? What, he does the underground fighting too?”

Lumine shrugged. “I don’t know. Apparently he has ‘connections.’”

“Are you going to accept?”

She looked out the window. “I told him, ‘no.’”

Aether silently regarded her, looking like he wanted to say something, but then shook his head. “Well, remember to relax today. Your work has been taken care of, so just take it easy, okay?”

He left the room, and Lumine turned onto her side, eyes cast out the window. Without thinking, she brought Childe’s scarf up to her nose, breathing in. She was caught off guard as the scent of salty beach shores filled her senses. 

Her face flushed and she thought, How do I even pay him back?

* * *

Lumine pushed open the door to the school’s rooftop, taking in a breath of the gentle breeze floating by. Sitting near the edge of the roof was Childe, his orange hair ruffling slightly in the wind. Lumine took a moment to observe him; he looked so serene, and suddenly Xiangling’s words intruded into her mind: He’s so handsome. 

“So, Pres, did you call me up here just to stare at me, or did you actually want something?” he asked, not even turning towards her.

Lumine felt a vein pop out on her forehead, and she proceeded to stomp towards him. “I was not staring,” she argued. “Here.” She harshly held out a little paper bag which contained Childe’s red scarf. 

His eyebrow raised an inch, and he took the bag. “You could have just left this in my locker, you know?” 

“Why do you have to make everything I do so difficult?” 

A chuckle. “I’m just teasing you, Pres. Thank you for returning it.” 

She gave him a stiff nod, then sat down next to him. “I...I also wanted to say thank you. For helping me.”

Childe tilted his head, regarding her curiously. 

Before he could say anything, she continued, gazing out at the city. “And thank you for not telling anyone. I don’t know why, but really—thank you for not saying anything.” 

From the corner of her eye, she saw his lips turn upwards in a small smile. “Of course. Wouldn’t want anyone else enjoying our little secret, now would I?” 

“This is fun to you?” she grumbled. 

“Very much so.” 

Lumine sighed. “Anyways, I don’t like to be indebted to people, and I couldn’t think of a way to pay you back—so please think of something.”

“In that case…,” he said almost instantaneously.

“You already have something in mind?”

He leaned towards her. “Let me be your coach.” 

...

...Of course he would say that. 

* * *

“And you’re sure Childe is trustworthy?” Aether asked Lumine as they walked through the bustling city of Snezhnaya, located in the next city over from their hometown of Mondstadt. 

Lumine readjusted the strap of her gym bag on her shoulder. “I mean...he hasn’t said anything yet, right? And anyways,” she muttered, “I owe him for saving me.” 

Aether frowned, crossing his arms. “I guess you’re right…It’s just...He’s been a constant pain in your ass for the better part of your council career, and now he just suddenly wants to be your best friend?” 

“He’s not going to be my best friend. Maybe he just felt sorry that I have to do all this for the sake of money, so he’s helping us out,” Lumine tried to reason. “If he’s my coach, we’ll get better conditions and pay.” 

Her twin nodded, looking around at the modern, high-rise buildings surrounding them. “Snezhnaya is really a rich city, isn’t it?” 

“I guess that’s a good sign.” Lumine stopped in front of a building labeled “Zapolyarny Palace.” She glanced down at the business card Childe had given her. “I think this is it: the gym he told me to go to.” 

The two of them took in the building before them: a gym with large windows through which they could see many members training intensely within. The building itself was made of sleek, silver materials, making the gym look like a glittering gem in the sunlight. Definitely an upgrade from the concrete basement of Kaeya’s establishment. 

Lumine was first to climb the steps, Aether following closely behind her. She pushed open the heavy glass doors, and immediately noticed everyone inside watching her from the corner of their eyes. 

“Lumi, these are some real scary looking people,” her twin whispered. 

She nodded, but continued walking forward to the front desk. The receptionist looked up at her; her name tag read Ekaterina. 

“How can I help you?” she asked. Her tone wasn’t friendly, but Lumine suspected that was the nicest the woman would sound. 

“I was told to come here by a friend,” Lumine answered. “By, uhm, Tartaglia?” 

Ekaterina looked her up and down, then stood. “Follow me.” 

The three of them walked through the gym, heels clicking against the dark slate flooring. The gym was huge, all of the high-tech equipment greatly spaced out, machines Lumine hadn’t ever seen before. 

The group made their way towards a boxing ring, elevated off the ground, and even from far away, Lumine could tell it was made from very expensive materials. 

“Tartaglia is up ahead,” Ekaterina said, gesturing towards the boxing ring, then went back to her desk.

Currently, there were two people sparring in the ring. To her surprise, Lumine recognized them both. 

“Is that...Kaeya? And Childe?” Aether asked.  

Lumine didn’t even answer, finding herself speeding up to get closer and watch the fight. 

She had only heard of Kaeya fighting from others in his arena, and that he was a fierce opponent due to his training in the military where he had actually been a high ranking captain. Childe, on the other hand, she had only seen in schoolyard scuffles, and never as an actual fighter in the ring. She was mesmerized by the two. 

Kaeya’s moves were very sharp and sneaky, while Childe’s style was lighter and much faster—until he struck, which he did so with great force, like the sudden crashing of a powerful ocean wave. Despite the huge gap in years of experience, it seemed like Childe actually had the upper hand in the fight. 

Childe threw a jab at Kaeya’s face, which the captain easily blocked. But then, Childe quickly switched his footing, twisting his body around to prep for a spinning heel kick to Kaeya’s unprotected side. As he turned, Lumine made eye contact with him for a split second. 

His foot would have slammed into Kaeya’s face, but suddenly, Childe stopped short, his leg still in the air, foot hovering right by Kaeya’s face, who regarded the near hit with wide eyes. Stopping a powerful kick like that took a lot of strength, Lumine knew, and she could see it in the way the muscles were flexed in Childe’s leg. 

“It was fun, captain, but it seems our guest is here,” Childe said, relaxing his leg and setting it down. 

Kaeya let out a shaky laugh. “It was indeed fun. Though, it seems like I need to get back into proper shape; it’s been a while.” 

Childe ducked under the ropes, sliding out onto the ground. “I look forward to that rematch then.” He picked up his water bottle and looked at Lumine. “You made it! Good job not getting lost.” 

As he drank his water, Lumine couldn’t help but look him over, at his exceptionally well-toned body. Usually his long limbs were covered by their school uniforms, but now he wore a gray tank top with gray sports shorts. It didn’t help that he was practically glistening in sweat. 

She cleared her throat. “So can you tell me why Kaeya is here?”

Her manager walked up to them, offering his signature smile. “Why wouldn’t I follow my dear Lumine to the next step in her career?” 

“I invited him,” Childe said. “I figured you’d want to keep him around.” 

He wasn’t wrong; it was nice that Kaeya was there as another familiar face. She wasn’t really sure what to expect from Childe now.

“I see you brought a guest as well,” Childe noted, his blue eyes on Aether. 

Aether subtly put his hands on his hips, defensively. “I’m Aether. Her twin.” 

The ginger tilted his head. “Ah, the Vice-President. How cute.” 

“Okay, so you’re my coach,” Lumine said. “Now what?” 

He held out his hand. “Where’s your Outlander mask?”

Lumine blinked at him, but then pulled the mask out, handing it over. He flipped it over in his hands, then chucked it behind him. Both her and Aether gasped. 

“You won’t need it anymore,” Childe said. 

Lumine glared at him. “What do you mean, I won’t need it anymore?” 

“Are you trying to get her arrested?” Aether spat. 

Childe held up his hands. “Relax. The reason I wanted you to join me is because we’re no longer going to have you fighting illegally. So no need for the mask.”

Kaeya nodded. “Yup. We’re bringing you into the world of legitimacy.” 

Lumine crossed her arms. “Kaeya, you know the reason I came to you in the first place. You get me way more money, much faster, than any legitimate competition. Especially at the beginner levels.” 

“And that’s why you’re here now,” Childe interjected. “Fighting here will give you even more money without having to worry about the cops busting in and arresting you one day.” 

“What if people from school find out?”

“No one from our school is going to come here to Snezhaya, much less to a gym.” 

Lumine and Childe stared at each other, unyielding. 

“Excuse us,” Kaeya said, pulling Lumine and Aether away from Childe. 

“Kaeya, you know it’s dangerous for her not to be in a disguise,” Aether hissed. 

“It was dangerous when she was fighting in my arena,” Kaeya said. He put a hand on Lumine’s shoulder. “Look, Childe is trying to help you, not hurt you. He knows you need that money, and that you’re good at this. He, like the rest of us, doesn’t want to see you get arrested for just trying to help your family out.” 

Lumine bit her lip. “What makes him so qualified though?” She turned towards Kaeya. “You guys are always talking about his ‘connections,’ but you haven’t really talked about who he is in this community.” 

“All you have to know is that, despite you guys being close in age, he is a known professional in this field. He’s fought and won many competitions.” He sighed. “I mean you saw him earlier: he almost handed my ass to me in that little spar. And I was a captain in the military.”

Aether sighed as well. “Lumi...as much as I dislike Childe...I think they’re right. I’ve always worried about you in those illegal fights. You’ll be safer here.”

As scary as it was that she was no longer concealing her identity, a part of her relished at the freedom. And they were all right. It was safer here, down this road. 

Lumine nodded before leading them back to Childe. She stood in front of him, arms crossed. “When do we start?”

* * *

[part 4]