#my boy lost his sight and taste/smell

[yzzart]

YOU'RE RULING THE WAY THAT I MOVE... ── KENJI SATO

── summary: Kenji was insatiable, they say.

── content warnings: F!reader, 18+, nsfw, fiance!kenji, oral (f!receiving), finger marks, petnames, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.

── word count: 1.206!

Oh, Kenji Sato was, unconditionally, insatiable. — Perhaps, mentioned in countless reports and comments and rumors from journalists, a little voracious and avid. — Making it clear that he looked for satisfaction around him, wanting to end this thirst on the court.

Being one of the biggest, and best, baseball stars, he had the reason, and right, to cause this. — Everyone could agree, right?

But this feeling remained in his chest, covertly, off the court; of course, trying not to show it in the public eye. — There was a mixture of need and lack that only Sato could admit; poorly, dramatic.

Kenji felt hungry, needing to be close to you, causing any physical contact, wanting to enjoy every inch of your body; aspiring to press it around you. — He wants to feel, touch and delight you. — And that drove the young boy crazy.

At the same time that you drove him crazy, leaving Sato thirsty, greedy for your smell or just seeing your gaze against his, you also directed him to the light; being a guide on your troubled path. —Kenji was grateful, and, gods, as he was. — The possibly true meaning of walking through heaven and hell in one walk.

He was trapped, connected to you; always keeping, like a magnet, his strong, long arms around your waist, pressing himself against you or fitting his face into the crook of your neck, nudging his nose into the back of your neck. — Sometimes, his teeth run through your skin, a sensitive spot, marking the area and then kissing it; conveying a loving and ironic action when saying “sorry, my love”.

Also, Kenji remained, pleasantly, surrounded between your thighs and holding them, with such precision and rigidity, leaving, in the future, marks of his long fingers; unable to avoid the possessiveness that coursed through his veins. — Delighting, relishing in the taste of your pussy; keeping him even more addicted to you, being certified as a starving animal.

That mouth, so bold and sharp, that responded and argued everything that came to mind, in fact, was smeared with taste and pleasure; sucking, kissing your folds, incredibly wet and mixed with his saliva, in an unruly way. — Attacking your sensitive and pulsating clitoris, his tongue surrounding it with slow circles and tracing lines across the region. — Rarely threatening contact with his teeth.

The damned man knew how to torture you and thought it was funny, he had, unquestionably, a talent for it.

“Ken, holy shit…!” — The environment, unstable, dark and poorly lit by the small bands of light that came from the huge windows, covered by curtains, was filled with the moans and whimpers that came out of your beautiful, dirty mouth. — “Ngh!” — You choked, trying to breathe.

Kenji would like, would love, to live with his face between your thighs; he could forget about baseball, save the city from monsters, everything. — Everything to devour you.

“My little princess with that mouth…” — A pop, made by his mouth, when sucking one of your folds was exclaimed. — “…so dirty.” — Pretends false hurt along with a pout, quickly licks his lips. — "So good…"

Raising his shiny orbs of desire and lasciviousness, Kenji witnessed, or rather, enjoyed your dazed image, hazy of the purest pleasure you received, feeling in a cloud of delight. — The large t-shirt, which belonged to your fiencé, lifted up to your collarbone, showing off your perky breasts and your messy hair spread across the pillow. — A magnificent work of art, somewhat angelic, apollonian.

Your little face manifested the lost between lust and excitement, being a sight for Sato's eyes. — You looked wonderful, as always.

“You know, hmm…” — The heat of his tongue returned, moving, slowly, to your entrance, tasting, ambitious; Sato's name was begged, almost inaudible, landing in his ears. — “I would spend hours eating that pussy.” — He had already confessed to that filthy curse so many times, but that's not a complaint. — “Oh, but, you know, don’t you?” — He growled.

“Hm, hm…” — This was an attempt to state what I had heard. — “Ken, please…” — You didn’t know what, in fact, you were begging, you didn’t care about blurting out disconnected words and things; the older one raised his eyebrows, mocking you.

“Fuck, baby.” — Kenji exclaims, almost breathless, closing his eyes and tracing a line with his tongue to the small, quivering dot, focusing on it; impatiently, wanting to enjoy your orgasm. — "I know, i know." — He babbled, clicking his tongue and increasing the speed of his licks; distributing a messy, clumsy, obscene kiss to your pussy.

A scream, thin and tearful, with a melodic tone, and considered music for the player, broke free from your mouth. — Being caught off guard during the change of promptness. — Without delay, one of your hands fell on Sato's black hair, pulling it sharply. — And you swear you felt a dirty smile, then a giggle, which sent a wave of shock through you.

When you felt a hot, scorching sensation of pleasure and voluptuousness boiling in your stomach, accompanied by the impression of numbness dominating your extremely sensitive little spot, you knew you were close. — Kenji too. — Your chest burned, rose and fell, trying to regulate or catch a breath, and your back arched; whining, immorally, even more so for Ken.

Holding your thighs, feeling a mediocre courage in trying to close them, which were increasingly trembling, Kenji's hands slowly caressed them; wanting to reassure you. — The coldness of his engagement ring ran across your skin, giving you goose bumps. — From the movement made in his mouth, Ken had said something, but, covered with exultation, you was unable to understand; probably words of encouragement.

"Oh, Ken, Kenji...!" — You screamed, frantically, while miserably moving your hips against Kenji's mouth, warning him; even if there is no such need. — Understanding what was going on, a growl came out of the older man's mouth, maintaining his rhythm. — “I’m close, Ken…” — You cried, feeling tears invading your eyes.

Suddenly digging your nails into Sato's scalp, as tears, witnesses of desire, fall from your eyes, you cum in Kenji's mouth; deliciously releasing all your pleasure. — Your head resting on the pillow, your chest rising and falling under pure exhaustion. — Therefore, you continues to be devoured by your lover.

Kenji, by gently opening your thighs a little, gets drunk on your orgasm; persistently tasting, tasting and eating your pussy. — Now, unshakable and extremely high level of sensitivity. — The tongue cleaning, searching and not leaving any drop of your cum with his greed and thirst to be quenched.

You were being adored, worshiped —even ecstatically— and you appreciated it. — Sato never tired of making you feel this way.

“Please,” — As he start to pull away, Kenji lifts his head, to get a clear view of you, and the glow on his chin and mouth, caused by your cum and his saliva, sends butterflies to your stomach. . — "you're so perfect." — He murmured, stunned and swallowed dryly. — “I wanted to stay buried in your thighs, like, forever.”

Your hand, which was still between his locks, immediately messed them up; mercilessly finding his change in personality ridiculous. — Addressing a low "i love you” to him.

“Me too, love” — He took a deep breath. — “But, i’m serious.”

[lovexjoe]

how would Armando react if he misses his girlfriend (the beautiful and sexy reader) while he is in prison? And when he comes out he desperately wants to see her And he's hungry for touch and dying to touch her 🔥🔥

Your 🐱 gonna need the ER when he’s done

Warnings: all the above cause this about to be dutty!!! 18+ cause ngl I wrote some nasty nasty

Y/N and Armando wrote letters back and forth since he’s been locked away

You were secretly happy that Mike and Marcus needed his help on this case because it meant him being free even for a little.

Visits were hard because the kisses and the hand holding could only hold you off for so long

You slipped him some nude Polaroids that he could jack off to when he was alone in his cell.

“Fuck mami when I’m out of here it’s you and me all night”

A few days went by and you haven’t heard anything from Mike or Marcus. You were worried and Kelly suggested you stayed with them just in case. That’s when they popped up on the news. No way…

Within a few hours of you pacing, they popped in through the front door and you immediately wrapped your arms around him. Showering him with kisses all over his face.

“You smell like straight caca but I was so worried” Y/N said causing everyone to laugh. Armando already a lost puppy following you around.

“Oh my god he’s like a dog Mike, tf wrong with your son?!” Marcus says to Mike as they watch Armando kiss on your shoulder.

“That boy in love, let him live”

After explaining the plan, you guys ended up heading back to your house. Armando grabbing and slapping your ass as you open the front door

“You my stinky redneck, need a shower” Shoving a towel to his chest and shooing him away.

“Baby! There’s no more body wash” You could’ve swore you put a new one in this morning, but you honestly couldn’t remember.

“I’m sorry baby here you go” Holding your arm out with the body wash trying not to get wet, Armando smirks as he pulls you into the shower.

The sight of seeing him naked after being in prison for almost 2 years, your pussy immediately clenched. The water cascading down his perfectly fit body. Your eyes welled up with tears, you didn’t think this day would come so soon and you didn’t want it to end it.

“I’m here now baby no need for tears.” He wipes your tears away wanting nothing more to be here in this moment with you for the rest of your lives. You had a beautiful soul that loved all his flaws and my god were you sexy. He wouldn’t admit it but he prayed every day in prison that you were protected and that he’ll see you soon.

You pulled him close as you kissed him. Your tongue slipping into his mouth the taste of toothpaste still lingers. He pulls your shirt off, ripping your bra in half and earning a little moan from you. God you loved when he’s like this. Animalistic. He took what he wanted and made you a moaning whimpering mess.

He made hickeys on all over your neck and breast, playing and biting your nipples. He cups them suspiciously, not use to them overflowing his hand.

“Fuck, they got bigger. Eres perfecta mami” As he sucks on your nipples, you begin to stroke him missing the sounds he use to make for you. You got down on your knees, the water making your skin glisten. Your tongue teasing his tip, causing him to groan. His length is so long and thick, you knew he was gonna stretch you out all night. You slapped his length against your tongue, keeping eye contact with him. He swore he was gonna lose his mind and you barely even done anything.

“Fuck my mouth daddy” You brought his hands up to your head and signal him to grab your hair. He looked into your eyes for reassurance and you nodded your head eagerly: wanting to be his submissive girl for the night. He grips your hair firmly, keeping your head still as he pumps his length in and out your mouth. You took it like a good girl for him, the moans escaping his mouth only encouraged you to deep throat him more. He didn’t want to cum just yet, but your eyes told him it’s okay and he let himself go. His muscles start to flex as he works through his orgasm releasing his warm nut into your mouth. He taste so fucking good. You swallowed, smiling to yourself that you brought him to release so quick. He picked up on that little smile and boy were you in for it.

He pushes you against the shower wall, ripping your leggings open, exposing your red little thong. The same one in a few of those Polaroids you sneaked him. He wanted to hear you beg for him tonight. He pulls on the red material causing it to press up against your clit. You let out a soft gasp.

“Please I’ve been good” Your voice a little sore after that blowjob. You arch your ass out to him more, begging to feel his tongue on you again. He turns the shower off and slaps your ass: picking you up bridal style and carrying you over to the edge of your bed. You threw the remaining of your clothes across the room and he laughs. His eager little princess, legs spread and he starts to admire you. You’ve been taking care of yourself since he’s been locked away. Pulling you closer, he gets down on his knees, wrapping your legs around his shoulder and starts to suck on your clit working his tongue down your wet folds.

Your body completely working against your mind as you came a few times against your will. Oh you missed him so much.

“You taste so fucking sweet mami”

Slipping two fingers into you slowly, you forget touching yourself is completely different from his hands. You felt yourself starting to squirt, you couldn’t even help it. Your mind was mush and you haven’t even had sex yet.

“A-Armando! I need you please” He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you as he hovers over you.

“Beg for me” Whispering against your whimpering lips

“P-please!” He slips a 3rd finger in and you completely lose it. You couldn’t even speak, you lifted your hips slightly to work your pussy on his fingers. What a fucking sight to see.

“Good girl, mi princesa. Such a good fucking girl for me”

You ride out your last orgasm before he aligns himself at your entrance. Something about this moment felt so special, so real. Armando couldn’t believe he found someone like you. No one would ever wait for a man in prison or even talk to him knowing what the fuck he’s done: but here you are. You made him feel safe and loved. That life was worth living after all. He tucks your hair behind your ear and just gazes at everything he’s prayed for.

“Te amo tanto mi vida. ¿Quieres casarte conmigo?" (I love you so much, my life. Will you marry me?)

You couldn’t believe it. You never knew what your future holds with Armando. You hoped that it would be marriage and kids but with everything he’s been through you accepted that maybe that wasn’t meant to be. You put that dream away and lock it up, but now….it was yours.

“Yes. I love you baby. I love you so much.” The kiss alone made your stomach do back flips. You felt him slowly slip the tip in. Both of you gasping at the sensation before he fully thrust his length into you.

“You’re so fucking tight” He holds you close as your pussy clenches with each thrust. You two were not going to last long. He lifts both of your legs on his shoulder to allow himself to get as deep as he could. Your moans the only thing holding him back from cumming again. He wants to talk you through it.

“You’re taking me so well mamita”

“I know it’s big you can take it though”

“Tan hermosa baby” (so beautiful)

“Cum for me, let go I’ve got you”

In that moment you both held each other and let go. The sloppy kisses and thrusts slowed down as he lays on top of you, still inside you. You kissed his forehead.

“Nice job mi jefe” You pinched his cheek causing him to blush for the first time. Mi jefe huh? I think he could get use to that.

[vividxpages]

‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆  the boy with the thick jacket and the cute accent *₊˚🍂୧

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 3700

summary: over time, Jace with his books by the window has become your favorite customer at the coffee shop you work at. The two of you quietly pine for each other, but when someone else tries to flirt with you, Jace’s jealousy finally gets him to make a move.

warnings: coffee shop au, meet-cute, pining, really just wholesome fluff, uncomfortable attempt at getting reader’s number (not Jace), first kiss

a/n: just something short and sweet for the cold weather outside! <3  I hope you’ll like it, let me know your thoughts!

⋆.˚🥧⋆.˚

There were many things you liked about working at the little coffee shop down the small alley overgrown with ivy.

The quiet yet busy atmosphere always made you feel welcome, surrounded all day by the smell of fresh coffee and tea, homemade cakes and biscuits and the steady stream of kind and appreciative customers who happened to stumble upon the little shop. The walls were covered with bookshelves and old-worn paperbacks stacked in them and the wooden boards creaked lovingly underneath your feet when you made your way towards guests by their tables.

There were many things that made you love the job, but none of them brought you as much joy as the curly-haired boy in his usual seat by the window, lost in his books and taking hours to finish his order.

The first time he had come in here, he had stumbled in from a sudden rain shower, his jacket dripping on the floor and his cheeks a rosy red as he stepped towards the counter, rubbing his hands together. You had turned around, rather busy in the usual stream of customers in the afternoon after uni ended, and there he was.

Dark lovely eyes, a mouth looking so kissable it made your knees weak and an angel-like face that seemed to be just as awe-struck as you were. You had stared at each other as if you were the only two people in the coffee shop, his glossy brown curls dripping rain while you still held an empty mug in your hand.

Hopelessly hit by cupid’s arrow.

“H-hi, what can I get for you?”

“Hi…”

You had to swallow down a giggle, raising your eyebrow at him. “Hi. What would you like to eat or drink?” You stood ready at the cash register, your eyes wandering to his lips as he opened and closed his mouth once again.

“Umm…yeah, I would like a…I’ll just take something hot please, to go.” The cute stranger tore his eyes away from you and fumbled with his wallet. A pretty blush crept up his neck “Whatever you recommend for me to have.”

My number then, you thought to yourself, but nodded in all seriousness as you tipped something into the screen. “The house’s special it is then, coming right up. What’s your name?”

He smiled at you then, nearly blinding you with it. “I’m Jace.”

Jace.

In your chest, little butterflies took flight.

As your colleague took over the line behind Jace, you got to work, giving some extra love into his coffee order as you drizzled some final touches of the good caramel on top and finally pressed a lid to the cup. The whole time, you could feel the boy’s eyes on you, not leaving you out of sight for once as he admired you.

Usually, you called out people’s names for their orders, but it wasn’t particularly full today and you could not deny that you had asked him out of curiosity. Jace still stood close to your side of the counter as you turned to him with a smile.

“Alright, Jace. House’s autumn special, I hope it’ll warm you up right away.” You told him sincerely and handed him the cup, your fingers brushing briefly and sending small lightning through you as he took it from you.

His eyes shifted to the name tag on your blouse before he paid up, sliding a generous tip into the little piggy bank between you. “I’m sure it’s amazing if you made it. Thank you.” He murmured your name as if he tasted every syllable for the first time in his life and as unexpected as he had come, he was gone and you wanted to melt into a puddle right behind the counter.

Ever since that fateful day, Jace had come back for more than just to-go orders. As the trees outside lost their leaves and the world was painted in red, orange and yellow, he mostly spent his free afternoons in the cozy seat by the window, his papers spread out in front of him on the table.

He was your most frequent customer and over time, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to his visits than just the good coffee and the occasional brownie treat he bought, especially when you sometimes caught him gazing at you and ignoring his homework.

By now, you knew what his order would be before he had even fully closed the door behind him or sometimes surprised him with a new little creation of yours in exchange for his honest opinion. (He always loved them.)

You liked the way he talked, a little flustered still but always happy to see you were there and how he always cleared his table so you wouldn’t have to, although it was your job.

You liked the way he could get lost in his books and papers for hours, biting his lip in concentration and absent-mindedly twirling one of his curls around his pointy finger as he took a sip of his warm drink.

You liked to know he was eating and drinking something you made, as if your slowly growing adoration for him could take root in his belly, filling him with warmth from the inside. He made you want to create and bake and become so much more than just his waitress for the rainy afternoons in autumn.

The nature of your timid relationship eventually began to change when he brought you flowers one time. You just had gotten out of the kitchen, a little flour still sticking to your cheek as you were greeted by a big bouquet which he held in front of his face. At your surprised gasp, he slowly lowered it and smiled at you, still blushing as he had on the day of your first meeting.

“I don’t want to hold you up, but the time I spend here is my highlight of the day and...this is for you.” He gingerly handed you the flowers over the counter and you almost walked around it and hugged him, a call from the kitchen stopping you from such impulsive desires.

But after the flowers, you both got a little braver.

You drew little hearts in the foam of his coffee orders and in return, your conversations became longer and longer when you had time in between rush hours. You sometimes recommended him books from the second-hand shelf in the corner and watched fondly when he was absorbed in the story the next day, your chest aching for something more with him outside of your working place.

But Jace seemed to be very polite, almost a little shy if the blush befalling him was any evidence every time you walked up to his table. And while you were desperately pining at this point, you were not brave enough yet to go beyond drawing little hearts on the boy’s coffee… 

One afternoon, you worked quietly behind the counter when a gust of autumn wind rushed into the café and a tall blond woman and two little boys walked in. Jace was sitting by the window, nose buried in a Donna Tartt paperback – he thought you did not notice, but you could feel his eyes on you from time to time – when he suddenly perked up and waved at them.

You watched them silently, nearly spilling milk all over the counter when you didn’t notice the glass for the milkshake was already full to the brim. His mom, you saw the familiarity now, kissed his cheek before he bent down and hugged the kids as they squealed in excitement to see him.

A giddy smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you turned your back towards the shop’s floor and got to work at the coffee machine. With practiced movements, you quickly made two hot chocolates and sprinkled a little cinnamon and chocolate rasps over the creamy foam. You took a deep breath and checked your appearance in the mirror over the big sink, making sure you did not look disheveled from your shift before you made your way over to Jace’s table.

As you got closer, you asked yourself if you were not too impulsive – surely you still had time to turn around? – but just as you were about to lose your bravery, Jace spotted you and his whole face brightened up, the dazzling smile you had grown to adore easing down your nerves.

“Hello.” You smiled shyly into the round and placed the plate in your hands on the table, the two cups steaming and adorned by two bowls of fresh cookies from the counter. “I thought the two gentlemen would like some hot chocolate, maybe? Ma’am, if I can get you anything-“

“Oh, there’s no need for formalities.” She smiled at you, a curious sparkle in her eyes. “I’m Rhaenyra, Jace’s mother. Nice to meet you.”

The little boys, undeniably twins now that you got a closer look at them, eyed you over the rims of their mugs. “Is that her, Jace? The girl you talk about aaall the time?”

“Ooh yes, the pretty girl, aaaall the time…”

Jace and you both froze, his little brother’s words leaving you speechless.

He…talked about you in front of his family? All. The. Time?

Rhaenyra looked between the two of you, noticing the awkward tension in the air and quickly saying: “I’d love to have a coffee with a little milk, thank you, dear.”

Jace still looked at you with wide eyes while his brothers peacefully sipped their chocolates as if they had not just exposed their older brother’s crush right in front of her. You opened and closed your mouth, face burning as you quickly nodded and mumbled: “Coming right up.”

The rest of your shift seemed to pass in a blur, your mind circling around what you had just learned.

Was there really a possibility Jace liked you back? Even his mother had been quick to dissolve the awkward situation and after you had brought her the coffee and Jace seemed to try to catch your eye every now and then, not really concentrating on the conversation at his table.

To get rid of the nervousness coursing through your stomach, you dedicated yourself to the little tarts in front of you, delicately placing small raspberries on the soft dough and decorating the top with small swirls of cream. The end result looked like little clouds and it seemed like your hands weren’t shaking as badly anymore now.

It was starting to get dark outside and there were still twenty minutes until your shift ended. You were the last one behind the counter this evening, only the nice ladies in the kitchen remained with you and most of the customers had left already. You sneaked a look to the window where Jace still sat, alone now again after his family had left, biting his lip and fidgeting as he looked outside into the rain. Would you just move on from this as if nothing happened?

“Hey, could you get me a coffee to go?” A guy you recognized from earlier visits grinned at you, leaning against the counter and a little too much into your personal space.

You nodded politely and grabbed a clean cup from the board behind you.

“And also your number if you’re on it, babe.”

You froze, staring at the cup in your hands. You had never liked this guy, he usually was brash and loud when he came in with his friends and he never left a tip, always demanding and impatient when his order took only a second longer than usual.

You started the coffee machine and looked over your shoulder. “I would rather not, thank you.”

“Aww come on, babe, I’ve been here so often just because you’re pretty, I think I earned it.”

You clenched your fists, the coffee trickling into the cup way too slow for your liking. “There’s nothing to earn, I just work here. And I’m not your babe.”

“Getting bratty now, huh? I think you just wanna-“

“Love, are you ready to go?”

Out of nowhere, Jace had appeared beside the douche, looking between your frozen form and the guy who now raised a confused eyebrow at him. You swallowed thickly, not knowing if you heard correctly. Love?

“Who are you?” The guy asked Jace, ignoring the coffee you now placed in front of him.

“I’m her boyfriend.” Jace said tensely, his dark eyes not leaving him. A warmth rushed through your belly at those words. “Is there a problem here? I don’t like the way you talk to her.”

“Calm down, dude, I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”

Jace glared at him, his jaw set. “You don’t have to know she has a boyfriend to simply respect her. Get your coffee and go.”

Assured by Jace’s presence now, you calmly turned your attention to the guy and opened your hand. “That’s three-fifty. We’re closing now, so don’t have a seat.”

You watched with quiet satisfaction as he fumbled out a five and let it fall on the counter. You took it from him, smiling sweetly before you glimpsed into the cash register. “Sorry, we’re completely out of change. Bye.”

He grumbled to himself, throwing one last look over his shoulder before he left the café and the last bit of tension left your shoulders. Jace looked at you, scratching the back of his neck, grimacing. “I’m sorry. I knew you could handle it, but the way he talked to you made me so angry…”

You shook your head, smiling timidly. “No, thank you, really. He’s been getting on my nerves before. Maybe he won’t come back now, finally. Although it’s sad this was what it takes for him to leave me alone.”

Jace chuckled nervously. “I couldn’t think of anything else, sorry. And I also apologize for my brothers earlier. I didn’t want you to feel awkward…”

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered hopefully. “They were cute.” You said and searched his gaze. He looked at you the way he had on the very first day, awestruck and hopeful and so, so sweet. You bit your lip, adding quietly: “Did they…say the truth?”

Jace let out a shaky breath. “Yeah…” He told you hoarsely. “I…I’ve been thinking of ways to ask you out, but- I’m a hopeless case, it seems. God, I didn’t want you to find out through my toddler brothers.”

You laughed lightly, relieved to have your hopeful guess confirmed. “Well…my shift is over in about five minutes and I don’t have any plans. Do you want to get something to eat maybe?”

“I’d love that.” He smiled at you brightly and it brightened the room.

You made quick work at the counter as Jace gathered his things and the comfy looking jacket he had been wearing since the start of fall. When you were dressed in your long scarf and elegant coat, the two of you were ready to go.

It almost was weird, to walk and talk with Jace outside of the familiar environment of the café, but the two of you had no problem picking up a conversation, comfortably falling into a discussion about the books you had been reading recently and what he was currently up to at uni.

When you reached the big square of the town, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “Wait, where are we even going, I did not even ask.” You laughed, surprised how much time had passed already with him by your side.

Jace looked around the street, his dark eyes shimmering with the warm light the street lamp threw down at him. “Umm…there is a great pizza place nearby. They serve really good slices and also sweet mulled wine when it’s cold. We might be lucky tonight.”

“Sounds perfect.” You sighed, your stomach growling at the thought of some good pizza and followed him, barely resisting the urge to lace your fingers together.

The little booth tucked between two shops that were now closed was buzzing with life, the smell of delicious wine and fresh pizza filling the air and making your mouth water. Jace greeted the two men behind the counter and rested a careful hand on your back so you could step beside him and see what sorts they were offering tonight.

“You’re here often?” You chuckled as he nodded shyly.

“I’m not really good at cooking.” He replied. “The quattro formaggi is really, really good. So is the one with the cherry tomatoes and pesto.”

You nodded eagerly and fumbled with your bag, ready to get your wallet out, but Jace shook his head at you. “My treat, okay? You always get me such good pastries and cakes.”

“But Jace, you pay for them as well!”

“Doesn’t matter.” He grinned. “Why don’t you find us a table and I’ll get us some mulled wine and the pizza?”

Soon, Jace returned to you, two paper plates full with steaming hot pizza slices that were joined quickly by the promised mulled wine. The speakers by the booth played some easy music and over you, the sky had gotten dark and the air cool.

At your first bite, you groaned in delight and Jace cocked his eyebrow at you. “Good?”

“So good.” You agreed, eagerly having another one. “We should have this at the café! All the sugar and cinnamon are nice, but this? Thank you for opening the world of spices and vegetables for me.”

You laughed as he tried to break a cheese string between his mouth and the pizza off and the sweet wine only made you giddier to spend time with him. He asked you about your life as you ate and you told him the job at the café helped you to save for a professional training as a commis pâtisserie you wanted to start in spring. Jace listened to you intently, his eyes not leaving yours once.

“You have a little…” He lost the rest of his sentence, reaching out a hand and softly brushing some small crumbs of your pizza away from your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat at his careful touch, holding very still for him. “There, now it’s gone.”

“Thank you.” You said quietly, a little breathless. It had been some time since you had been close to someone like this and since it was Jace, you found yourself wanting to lean closer, to let his touch linger and blossom. “It’s nice, talking to you. I’m glad your brothers visited you today.”

You laughed together, both of you trying to hide your smitten faces as you took a last sip of the warm beverage. The plates between you had become empty and your heart sank a little when it was time to leave.

“Thank you for tonight, I…I like being with you, too. I’ll walk you home, if you’d like.” Jace offered warmly and looked down the road. He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Will you be at the coffee shop tomorrow?”

You nodded, a warm feeling rushing through you at the thought you’d see him there, now that everything had changed a little. “You might get to have one of my famous chocolate fudge brownies if you’re lucky.”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow as you began to make your way down the street. “Do only your favorite guests get them?”

“Oh yeah.” You teased, trying to stay serious. “Only the ones who save me from annoying guys and invite me out for pizza afterwards.”

You looked at each other underneath the light of a streetlamp, the two of you the only souls still wandering through the night. Jace stared at you, his plump lips slightly agape. He tucked a lost curl behind his ear underneath the hoodie and said sincerely: “Then I will do my best to hold that spot.”

“It’s already yours, Jace.” You said softly and then you could not hold yourself back anymore. You stepped closer and as the boy you had grown to adore so much exhaled shakingly, you held his face between your hands and kissed him.

Jace let out a surprised huff against you, but immediately melted in your embrace as he gently kissed you back, his hands quickly finding their way out of his pockets again to hold on to your waist. You smiled against his lips and sighed happily, your one hand wandering into the curls in his nape as the other grabbed the front of his hoodie.

You had no idea how much time passed as you kissed without a worry in the world. You welcomed his warm embrace as he held you closer, your arms coming to rest around his shoulders as the kiss deepened, his lips tasting of sweet wine and faintly of the waffles he had at the shop today. Your heart threatened to overflow with giddiness as Jace moaned softly into your mouth, cradling you against his chest and touching your soft hair as you kissed and kissed and kissed…

You didn’t know it yet, but tomorrow, he’d bring you another bouquet of flowers, roses this time and you’d spend your lunch break together and kiss some more.

In the following weeks, you indulged in cozy dates at restaurants Jace knew or simply stayed on his couch all night, cuddling and kissing and eventually falling into bed together…

In the next months, you grew closer and closer and you met his family again – “The pretty girl is back, now Jace can stop pining after you like a poet!” – and Jace supported you as you started your training however he could, which mostly meant he got to try all your little perfect creations and praise you endlessly for them.

One year ahead from now on, you moved into a cozy little apartment together, your home always filled with the love you shared and many, many books and baking goods.

You did not know it yet, but oh, how you were going to find out what it meant to love Jacaerys…

my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[lunerabo]

grape juice

cw: sub!Choso, dom!vampire!AFAB!Reader, neck biting, blood drinking, vampire typical behaviors, slight dub-con if you squint, handjob, pet names (‘baby boy’, ‘sweet thing’), p in v, riding, dacryphilia, Choso passes out

You think you’re awake.

It’s not the usual time you leave, far earlier than that. The sun is nowhere near showing itself. It’s not like you to wake before then.

Your nighttime companion slumbers beside you, bare and spent from the fun you had just hours ago. You recall with fondness feeding him fruit from a decorative bowl on your nightstand and tasting it on his tongue when you kissed him. The smell of the candles tucked away in the corners of the room has outlasted the smell of sex.

Your head swims, but unlike how it did earlier, this is far less pleasant. Your vision, superb as it is in the blackness of the room, darkens the blues and greys of the scene before you, blurry around the edges, fading in and out. Your gut twists and growls.

Why now? You weren’t hungry earlier. Sure, it had been some time since you’d fed, but you hadn’t really felt it yet. You thought he was safe tonight. But your pain and fatigue are very real, and there’s no guarantee you’ll find easy prey once you leave. Choso is a lot of fun—as delicious as you’re sure he is in there, you don’t want to go and ruin it by draining him. Your time with him is already temporary.

You drink in the sight of him in the hopes of staying your hunger, battling it with thoughts of your affections, of what you don’t want to see lost.

A mop of black hair. Tired eyes. The distinct mark of a little black horizon across his nose. He’s just so pretty, it makes your mouth water.

You take a grape, fat and ripe, between your fingers. There are plenty more to take from the bowl, but they won’t sate your hunger. You don’t know why you try.

The line between mate and prey blurs before your very eyes, and you do your best to shake that image from your mind. Yet still you stare as he shifts in his sleep, fingers twitching, nose wrinkling. He breathes a little heavier than before, and the thump of his rabbiting heart and the rush of his blood just beneath the bared skin of his neck has you in a haze. Perhaps he knows he is no longer safe. Perhaps he senses the danger he’s in, but has yet to wake.

The fruit is firm between your lips, a promise of a generous reward if you just bite.

Your lover stirs, pulse racing in his warm chest, and you watch, mesmerized.

The skin taut, the flesh swollen.

It takes merely a slow push of your teeth into it to make it burst on your tongue, its nectar rich and plentiful and far sweeter than you remember fruit being. Hunger does have a way of doing that.

Your beloved cries out, eyes wide, and your chin is stained with blood.

You glance at your fingertips, and the half of the fruit you could swear you were holding a second ago has disappeared. Blood paints the place where it sat. Choso’s blood. You reach for words, but find none to grab at.

His breathing shakes, and he nearly leaps out of his skin when you move.

“I didn’t mean to.”

He swallows, and holds his hand to his wound.

“What was that?”

Another period of involuntary silence. You turn on the small nightstand lamp and hesitate to look back at him, licking across the teeth whose purpose now becomes apparent to him. The realization of what exactly it is he’s been sleeping with dawns on him, but he doesn’t show it much.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I’m… I’m just so hungry.”

“Are you going to eat me?” He asks, and his voice is so small, like a little mouse you could frighten away with just a blink. He doesn’t know what a vampire is, you realize. One thing he senses for certain is that you are a predator, and he, very very vulnerable prey. Why you haven’t gotten on with feasting on his flesh with his innards torn out and strewn across the bed is a mystery to him.

“No, I’m not going to eat you. I need blood, I just… I can’t… wait. I can’t wait until I find someone else. My meal isn’t guaranteed if I leave.”

“How many people have you killed?”

“What? I’ve never killed anyone.”

“How can I trust you?”

“I didn’t kill you.”

He at last rises to his knees before you, understandably still apprehensive and flighty. He glances down to find himself a little hard, too, and he’s not sure why, when this is not a situation he’d ever find sexual. He’s never feared for himself quite like this. Did you do that? What is this? Does he have to worry about you hurting him there?

You notice, and he seems to shrink back into himself a little.

“You’re human. That happens sometimes. You’re just scared.”

Human, he reminds himself. He wasn’t aware of the fact that, apparently, that means being prey. For monsters like you.

Tentatively, making sure he knows where you’re moving, you reach for him. Not for his throat, not for his cock, and not for the racing heart that your hunger yearns to rip from his chest—but for his hand, which you place your own over as he trembles.

“I won’t hurt you again. Not without your say-so.”

His wide eyes search yours, as if picking through your thoughts to find a scrap of a lie. Could you really have the self control to stop yourself from draining him dry? And if you did, how would that affect him? How much would you take? What does he risk? But through the myriad of uncertainties that flood his mind, one truth stands out to him, catching his attention; you don’t want to harm him, not really. He doesn’t know what to call it, but it’s a feeling, some small but impossibly strong tug of what he has every reason to believe is delusion imploring him to trust that there really is something more you feel for him beyond base hunger. If you were as much of an animal as he believed, he would have been made your livestock long ago.

“Do I risk dying if I let you?” He breathes, cautious. He really does love you, and he doesn’t want to force you away. Perhaps if he offers that olive branch, even if he’s not entirely certain he wants to, he may not have to let you go.

“… the more I drink, the easier it’ll be to stop myself. I can do that. I don’t need much.”

It’s a little off putting. It may not have been a simple yes or no, but nothing in that statement implied that he would in fact die, and that’s all he needs, really.

“You can, um. If you can’t live without it, and you won’t kill me, you can… have some.”

He’s not sure why he’s doing this. He quivers, but there’s an underlying feeling of delight in his fear. Excitement. Anticipation. Gentle hands reassure him, fingers creeping up his nape and tilting his head as you lean in, wordless and practically drooling on him.

It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the first time. The wound weeps as you close your lips around it, teeth only barely grazing the skin. There is no need to bite again. Warm and coppery, it floods your mouth, and his body reflexively shies away from the dull, throbbing ache blooming in his neck. Tears threaten to fall but his cock jumps, desperate for attention, and yet you deprive him of it. You won’t make a move until he tells you to, but doing that is far too embarrassing. But between the hand in his hair, the sucking at his neck, and the rhythmic, languid, almost erotic dips of your head as you enjoy your midnight meal, he fears he may say it involuntarily. He can’t blame you for the state he’s in, for he clearly tastes good. That, and the fact that he could’ve tasted like bile for all you cared, and you would have enjoyed it purely for sating your hunger.

But you detach yourself at last, licking over the now much more obvious mark, kissing at his jaw in silent apology. You think he understands. He bucks his hips, grabbing at your wrist, and pulling it insistently between his legs. He can’t take it anymore.

“Okay, easy, easy. I’ll take care of it for you.” Your palm smears the pre already pearling at his tip, and the featherlight touch alone elicits a brief, sharp wail. He’s so impossibly aroused, and the abrupt manner in which he turns to mush under your touch has you soaked. He would let you do anything to him when he’s in this state, you’re sure. That’s a dangerous place to be, with you.

“Did my bite make you all sensitive, baby?” You ask him, and sleepy eyes meet yours in confirmation.

His hips stutter and buck into your hand, but he doesn’t try to stop them. He always seems to lose his mind fast, but this is something different. This is something new.

“Can I sit on you? Can I make you cum for me, baby boy?” You ask, and he whines loudly as an affirmative. “Oh, come here.”

You let him taste his own blood on your teeth and tongue, and you can feel in your palm the way he shivers in confused delight. He leaks and pulses in your grip, and his breath becomes shallow and quick, like he’s crying.

Swinging your leg over his waist, you prop yourself up on his chest with your elbow, and he ruts against you, mind driven into messy knots. He nearly goes limp when you do sit on him, rolling your hips over him just enough to make him a little louder for you. He chews his lip, as if that might do much to quiet his noise, and it’s so precious, so adorable, that you simply can’t help yourself.

“Mhh- you said you wouldn’t drink that much.”

“I know what I said, I’m sorry. Just give me a little more.”

And without apprehension, he yields his throat to you as you feed.

A sleepy, numb, almost sick feeling spreads within him, and his vision becomes blurry and black around the edges, and the walls and ceiling swim around him as his rutting against you slows. He struggles to stay awake under you. He shakes violently to keep conscious, willing his hands to move to their favorite place on your hips, but it takes far more effort than anticipated.

The mark you leave is purple and bloody, but no longer leaking. Blunt fingers claw at your back and you know he nears his end, thighs twitching and jerking and chest rising and falling in a series of brief and shallow gasps. It feels too good to have any hope of backing down from that precipice, too far gone already, the only choice to let go and plummet.

And he does—deep inside you, wailing and hiccuping as he does, and you rub furiously at yourself to join him. His crying sends you over the edge, and he yelps once more as you squeeze him. His breath is hot on your shoulder as you descend and bury your head in his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I won’t take that much again. You did so well, and you taste so good…”

Your tongue lashes out at his wound again, but you don’t drink anymore. His hand creeps up into your hair, tangling fingers into it, forearm laid flat across your bare back. He’s unresponsive after that.

“Choso?”

He’s already unconscious. No doubt largely from the loss of fluids, but the rigorous activity certainly didn’t help. His chest still heaves and his heart still races, but there’s no mistaking it. His eyes don’t move under his eyelids, his brow is relaxed, and his arm sits limp and nearly lifeless on your back. You’ll help him get cleaned up in a couple of hours when the sun rises, you figure.

Though you aren’t looking forward to the complaints about the soreness in his neck.

[ch-4-eri]

LOVE POTIONS — Jill Valentine.

best friend’s mom! jill X female reader.

warnings: 18+ mdni!! age gap (don’t say i didn’t warn you) oral, dirty talk, hints at the reader being a virgin if you squint. i don’t know if i’m missing anything let me know.

word count: 1.4k

i’m so sick for this, i’ll go to hell on my own, don’t fuck your friend’s mothers guys. but do enjoy this.

you couldn’t explain it, even if you wanted, the whole thing was messy from the beginning.

it was supposed to be something innocent, completely harmless and has no threat to anyone in your life or yourself.

or your best friend.

if only you never met his mother, Jill Valentine, government agent, and a former RPD S.T.A.R.S member.

but god, you didn’t think it through.

didn’t think your attitude and the way you looked at the woman were entirely calculated, jill knew.

this woman has a love for details and reading you, every time you came over; what you’d say and what’d you do, what you’re wearing.

she’d show you she’s busy, working documents and important things for the BSAA, jill to you was just a best friend’s mother.

but you both had one hell of an unspoken sexual tension.

which you tried to hide, tried to shove in the back of your mind as your age gap is fucking nuts and you always worry someone would read your mind which isn’t even a realistic idea, but still, you were too anxious to act on it, even alone, self awareness preventing you from being able to stay in your head for long.

but jill on the other hand… when every time she analysed you, how you talk, how you act, your ass in your tiny skirts drives her fucking crazy enough she finds herself unable to sleep, her hand inside her shorts as she’s pumping herself up at the thought of you with her hand covering her mouth.

surely she felt ashamed, a woman her age acting and thinking like this, she felt so much guilt and shame for operating like a damn teenage boy riling with hormones over a girls ass in a skirt.

a girl her son’s age.

she knew if he ever found her out, he’d hate her forever and she can’t afford losing him, not after fighting for his custody for many years with her ex husband.

but that’s not what she had in mind that day, when she had you splayed down her bed so late at night, her fingers in your mouth as she ate you out like no tomorrow, your legs on her shoulders, your moans muffled by her thick fingers pressing down your tongue, drooling all over them.

“taste’s so good..” jill groaned against your clit, her mouth engulfing you, sending your back arching, she pulls away and sits up, making you ache at the loss of contact and the warmth you felt between your legs.

jill removed her fingers from your mouth, wiping your saliva off them down her bedsheets, going on her knees to meet your eyes as you were so lost in the feeling of pleasure you never got from anyone else other than this woman, a woman you shouldn’t even be doing this with.

but neither of you were even thinking of that right now.

jill had your chin in her palm as you opened your eyes, your breathing shaky and heavy, drool covering your chin as you smelled like sex and vanilla to the older woman’s nostrils.

“i want you to sit on my face, yeah? can you do that for me?” jill smirked, licking her lips with the tongue you want to be inside you again so badly.

you nodded eagerly, the thought of having her mouth against your pussy again was driving you mad with chills coursing through your body. “mhm.. yes please.” you begged, your eyes staring into hers pleadingly, like a lost puppy. fucked up enough.

jill patted your legs, lying down on the mattress of her huge bed, she wasn’t wearing anything other than her lacey bra and underwear, she was a fucking sight, you’d drool on her looks alone. even for a woman her age, she was damn delicious and you couldn’t get your eyes off her as you went on your knees and crawled to her.

she prepared the seat that was her face you were going to be sitting on for the next many minutes, hopefully hours if it were up to the older woman. moving her short brown hair away from her blue eyes you’d drown in.

as you made it closer to her, you were a bit nervous, a question rolling around your head you had to make sure of, you had to ask, as silly as it made you sound to a woman with so much experience.

“do i sit or hover?” you asked, your voice betraying you, your cheeks rosy and lips red and swollen.

jill chuckled, like she was making fun of you. “sit.” she demands. “i want you to suffocate me.” jill added, taking a hold of your thigh as she brought you closer with her strong grip.

“i want you to cum in my mouth.. am i clear, sweet girl?” she demanded as soon as you gasped, raising an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“y-yes..” you nodded like the puppy you are, you weren’t going to upset her, you hated to refuse jill.

and jill hated it when you refused her.

you finally scooted up to jill’s head, placing a knee next to her head, the other doing the same as you lowered your body so your wet pussy made contact with her nose, both of you let out a sigh while jill’s hands positioned you properly on her face, and as soon as you felt her tongue lick a long stripe up your sopping wet hole you let out a sickeningly pornographic moan, your hands grabbing at the headboard of her bed.

“ah.. jill..” you breathed, your thighs squeezing the older woman’s head, her tongue sucking and licking at your hole as she made it her sole purpose for you to cum in her mouth and if she keeps this up you’re gonna do it more than once, not that jill would complain.

her strong hands gripped your ass so tight, her tongue brutally slamming inside of you, as was her nose, sliding it up and down which drew pathetic moans out of you.

jill was humming, groaning into you, making your legs shake and your thighs closing in on her, and you were worried you were hurting her even though jill was having a fucking blast, she adored those damn thighs, if she suffocateds and dies like this it’ll all be worth it.

“please.. can’t take this anymore.” you cried out, making jill just suck at your clit like a starved woman, her body humming and shivering as she was desperate to get touched as well, rubbing her thighs together while her hands reached your hips in a bruising grip.

you were shuddering and whimpering, your legs so weak as you didn’t want to put your full weight on the woman’s face. “jill..” you moaned as she flicked her tongue against your sopping walls, your thighs filled with goosebumps.

“i’m..” you start, your lower belly so tight with a burning sensation that you were so close to your release, jill positioned you right into her mouth as she knew you were close, drinking you up as you finally gushed your orgasm down her mouth like she wanted.

“mmm..” jill mumbled, swallowing every last bit of what you can give her, you tasted like heaven, fucking delicious.

you were trying to catch your breath, your heart hammering against your rib cage as jill patted your thigh.

you weakly pulled your knee away from her head, your legs were shaking like crazy, your center so sensitive and puffy.

“i bet you can’t walk now, huh?” jill joked, sitting up on her elbows, her cheeks red from the heat of being between your thighs for as long as she just was, her nose and her lips shiny and sticky from your release and you were so sick for thinking she looked so darn good with your cum on her face.

you gulped, heat rushing into your cheeks at her words. “just a little sore.” you mumbled shyly, like you weren’t just seated on her face.

“a little sore hm? come here for me..” jill gestured for you to come closer to her. “you think you can just rest without returning the favour?”

jill smirked and brushed your hair away from your face, brushing two fingers against your hardened nipples.

“i know you can’t handle me sitting on your face… i’m afraid i’d break you entirely… but you have fingers don’t you?”

she says in a suggestive tone, grabbing your nipple into her mouth, your eyes closing at the sensation, your hands going into her hair as a moan escaped you.

jill took your hand and brought it near her panties.

then she pulled away with a pop, her blue eyes staring into yours so intensely. “now be a good girl and touch me.”

oh boy you’re screwed.

[luveternals]

pairing: none (because I don't know who to put since is 5am) rating: mature, MDNI. cw: a bad man tries to do bad things to a minor (or failed attempted SA), don't worry you save the day and there are no details. reader isn't human. incubi (or demons feeding on desire). a/n: I don't know what vibes the warnings give you but it's probably not that bad. probably. It 5am and I slept 3 hours, it's proof read, but I'm out of touch with the world. oh and yeah, this blog isn't dead :) heads up, i'm not gonna be active like at the start. what a surprise! i'd spend my life writing cringe in here if I could, but I need money. ~ ~ ~

It's past midnight, when you find yourself standing deep in the alley; the scent is so strong, you can smell it out here. You breath in and swallow the thick taste of sweet and spice that invades all your senses. Your tail twitches behind you, sharp and lethal, then slaps the floor, showing your growing tension. You step forward and shove back the sudden urge to slam the door open. The scent is stronger now, reaching deep inside your core and promesing a delicious meal.

It makes your skin crawl.

You stab your claws into the door handle and twist your hand, separating the cheap metal from the old wood with a single, smooth flick of your wirst.

The moment you push the door open, it creaks and your stomach growls. Hot desire and sweet arousal dominate the room latching deep into your hunger and pulling you closer, saliva pulling into your mouth. It tempts you to follow your instincts, to let your nature guide your will.

Disgusting.

There's a bang against a wall, on the floor above you, then someone groans. And your body moves before your brain can register the action. You rush up the stairs and bursts in the room at the end of the hallway. The scent is at its strongest here, and you see red.

There, deep in the room, a man stares at you from where he's hunched over a boy. You hiss at the sight and, with only a few quick strides, tear him away from the boy. You throw him across the room and onto the floor and bares your teeth at him. "You dare touch what's mine?" you growl.

He scrambles back, eyes wide in fear. The color has drained from his face, arousal and delight turned into terror and confusion. There's blood dripping on the floor under him. A similar, smaller stain dripping from your claws.

"Get lost! I see you again and I will make you choke on the very joke you have between your legs."

The filth stumbles onto his feet and runs out the door without a single word, pale and sweaty. When you know he's rushing down the stairs, you hope to hear him trip and fall and never get up.

You almost follow to make true of your threat, when a shaky breath from behind you catches your attention.

Your mind clears in an instant and the moment you whip around a thin body crashes into your chest, arms flying around your large body.

"I've got you," you whisper gently. You arms circle around the boy's frail form to pull him closer.

"I didn't mean to," he whimpers as he clings onto you.

"He's gone," you tell him as you caress his back with careful strokes.

"I didn't," he sobs, "mean to!"

"Hush, little one. I know," you pull away, just enough so you can cup his face with your hand, "it's okay, I know."

He lean against your touch, tears wetting your hand.

"Let's go home. Shall we?" you lean down and kiss his forehead.

He nods and, finally, finally, the two of you leave that hell of a place.

The boy is silent for most of the trip back, holding onto your arm for dear life. You arrive home and he climbs in your bed and you only wrap your arms around him and pull him in a tight hug without protest.

From that night on, you don't let him out of your sight. The boy goes on with his days as normally as he can, but his struggle to keep in control is as clear as day.

One morning, you find him hugging tightly at his pillow, squirming against it. He whimpers and humps against the pillow, eyes shining in shame when he notices he's not alone. He scrambles away and hides his face in his hands, when you step in his room and sit at the edge of his bed.

"I'm sorry," he sobs, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

You lean over the bed and reach for him to place a gentle hand on the top of his head. The boy flinched at the touch but doesn't pull away, "no, little one. This is who you are, now," you say. "Come here," you add and pat your leg.

The boy shifts and rubs the back of his hands over his eyes, wiping away the tears. He blinks up at you as you lifts him up and seat him on your lap. He leans against your chest and rest his head under your chin.

You hug him for a short moment, before you feel him shift restlessly. You stroke his hair and plant a kiss on the side of his head, "lay back in your bed," you whispers, "don't fight it. I'll come back in a bit to check on you."

The other shakes his head and grips on the front of your clothes, "I don't want to."

"The more you fight against it, the worst it'll get, child. Are you sure?"

A single sob slips out of his lips and he barely nods his head, "stay."

You try to shift but the other clings onto you with an iron grip. You coo at him and pet his head, then move again to lay down on the bed, with him on your chest.

The boy squirms and trembles against you as you two lay there until his body just gives up and he falls asleep, exhausted.

You cuddle him close, his small form pressed firmly against your chest. His body still has a long way before it stops developing, and you fear he might not get through it.

As an incubus yourself, you know how overwhelming and dangerous the hunger can be, and you can only imagine how it is for him. You were born a demon, while he has only just been turned into one against his will. He lived his life as a simple human and now he's going through his first hunger. Being a teenager doesn't help, the boy's hormones are unstable. You can only guess how his body was affected by it all.

He nuzzles his face against your chest in his slumber, a small whine coming out of his parted lips. You watches him sleep, caress your knuckles against the boy's soft cheek, and think. You know you will have to teach him how to feed on people's lust eventually, but you also know the other won't take it well. The boy is a child with a naive and innocent heart, and the thought of hurting or using people for his psrsonal needs scares him to no end.

The following days go on quietly. His hormones seem to settle and he is able to keep them at bay, for most of the time. You help him through the night, when his hunger grows stronger. You don't do anything but hold him close against your chest, whisper reassurance again his ear and and draw invisible lines against his back, but this, at least, seems to help.

Incubi feed only on human energy so the arousal of another demons doesn't affect them. But, the boy is not a pure-blooded, and this makes things different. He's not as tempting as any other pure human, but you make sure to feed yourself full before getting anywhere close to him, especially at night.

In the worse of the hunger, he would just hump a little against you. It shows you he has better control than you first imagined, so you simply stare at the ceiling and endure it for him. Because this is worse for him than it is for you. It's awkward and it makes you sick in the stomach, neither of you has the strength to face it, but it helps and you're not going to starve him. Human food helps only to a certain point.

During the day, the two of you travel with your heads bowed as you hunt down for the monster that ruined this poor boy's life. You have to keep away from the crowd, hiding in the woods or creeping through dingy alleys. You can see the frown on his face as you stir him away at the sound of people. He doesn't say, but it hurts him. You know. You can see it in the way he throws subtle glances over his shoulder, feel it in the way his feet's stumble when you guide him away from the voices. The loneliness that emanates from him tastes raw and bitter, and the desire in him is sickening sweet.

You slip a hand around his shoulders as you guide him gently to turn the corner, away from the people, away from the world.

Incubi don't hunt solely in the night, some people can't contain themselves even in the brightest of hours. You don't want another innocent person to turn into a lust-hungry leech because of him. You don't think the boy could survive the guilt.

× × ×

You tie a cloak around your neck but stop in the mid of adjusting the hood at the sight of your tiny companion.

"Get ready, child. It's time for us to leave," you say and pull the hood over your head.

"Okay," his soft tone has your full attention on him.

You sit next to him on the bed and place a gentle hand on top of his head, "I know this is more than overwhelming, but we need to be strong if we want to put an end to it."

"I can't do this," the boy whisper with a broken whimper, hands going up to wipe at his eyes.

"We will. I'm here to help you," you say, petting his head, "we'll find them and put an end to this all."

When he looks up at you, you are met with bright green eyes staring up at you. You have to look away for a moment, the sight somehow too overwhelming. When you turn back to him again, his gaze has only gotten more intense and you cup his face in your hands. "I will burn the world for you if I have to"

The smile that spreads across his lips is small and cautious and yet, but the hope that shines in his eyes makes his expression the spit image of the irritating grin his father flashed you the moment your growl meant for him was out of irritation and not of hatred.

You can almost hear his words ringing in your memories, "I know you care for me, pet."

You take the cloak that hangs from the back of the chair and pull it over the child's shoulder. You tie it around his neck and give him the tiniest smile, "remember what I told you the day after the accident?"

The child sighs but nods.

"We'll stop the bad guys from doing this to others and save the kingdom from doom. Make your father proud."

"Was he really a hero?"

You can't help but huff a chuckle. "The stories you hear about your father are not just fairytales. I should know, I was there."

"You fought in the Great War?" the boy blinks, "you never said."

You give him an hesitant nod and stand, your mind rushes with the memories of those days. A dark year for the kingdom. The end a painful millenia for you.

Your eyes fall onto the distracted and fidgety figure sitting on the bed. Your freedom came with a price.

"Hey, uncle," he says when he notices your eyes on him.

"Again with the uncle?" you sigh, exasperated.

"When will you show me it?"

You pause and look at him with an unreadable expression, "no."

"I'm not a child anymore and— and—"

"You're not a monster," you say, with a firm tone, tired of this conversation again, but ready to defend him from his self deprecating mind, again and again and again.

"Neither are you!" he shouts, only to sink in himself, eyes wide with horror at his own outburst. He drops his gaze onto the floor. "Neither are you…" he repeats softly, his voice no louder than an hesitant whisper. "I don't— I've never… I just want to see the real you."

His words render you speechless, but the moment the silence stretches for a minute too long, you turn to hide your money pouch inside the internal pocket of your cloak, only so you don't have to meet his gaze. "No."

He drops the topic as he always does. He's quiet, pensive and slightly pouty, but follows you out the room and out the building without protest.

You fetch your horse from the stables build on the side of the small tavern where you slept the night before, and have him climb on it as soon as you're out the gates.

A soul is like a compass for an incubus. The moment it makes a wish, desire sparks inside it and a demon like you can latch onto it and never let go. This is what made you dangerous during the war, what had people seek you and repel you in equal desperation. When an incubus is free to roam the lands no place is safe to hide.

Unless you can control yourself.

It's a rare skill, but it exists and you grit your teeth when you scent the air. The lead you've been following is faint either from distance of lack of strength. You're loosing them.

"Are you okay, uncle?" the boy asks and reaches as hand to grab the fabric covering your shoulder.

"Again with the uncle?" you ask, but it's soft and you reach up to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. "This way."

You lead his horse westward, the rising sun shining at your backs as you leave it behind.

~ ~ ~ comment, reblog and/or follow. this blog feeds off feedback, don't just like or it'll die again!

[ghoastixx]

Hello!! Do you think you could do a poly!lost boys x male reader, where the reader gets their tonsils removed? Like, he get it done during the day and hadn’t thought to tell the boys so when night falls he doesn’t meet up with them at the boardwalk so they go to his house, thinking he’s finally finished with them, (trust issues galore, I swear) only to find him resting in bed, drugged up and sore.

Fluffy cuddling and a bit of a delirious reader who gets upset a little and cries from the soreness of the surgery. Comfort.

Please and thank you!!

Poly!lost boys x male delirious reader

notes: OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY THAT I WAS AWAY FOR SO LONG. SCHOOL STARTED AGAIN AND MY COLLEGE ASSIGNMENTS ARE BEATING MY ASS!!!!

author's notes: I haven't written anything for the lost boys in a damn hot minute so this will probably be shitty.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything. hurt. That's all you could think of as you lay in your bed, listening to the waves of santa carla luring your pain to sleep. Despite such peacefulness for you, a certain group of boys were..quite restless tonight.

"Where is he?" Paul huffed impatiently, fiddling with one of the bracelets he nicked off a pretty little thing after bleeding her dry a few weeks ago. "Did he say anything about not being here yesterday?"

"I don't think so," Marko responded, bored out of his mind. David was smoking a cigarette, seemingly somewhere else in his mind as Dwayne kept his eyes out for any sign of their human pet boyfriend.

"Do you think he's mad at us?" Paul all but whined,

"For what? We didn't do nuthin'" Marko all but barked back, which caused a sharp glare from Dwayne.

The boys were only so patient, waiting around their bikes for an hour before they came to a conclusion. You didn't love them anymore.

So, jumping onto their bikes, they drove to your place, deciding that you would have to face up to the facts of your loss of love. You should tell them damnit! Besides.. you knew too much... surely you'd taste sweet..

You sat up in bed, thinking you heard approaching bikes and the sound of boots on the wooden floors. A few scrapes at your window, taps on the walls. All it took was a whine coming from your form for the boys to quit their antics, stepping into your bedroom.. god you smelled so sweet.. The sound of you so distressed was unusual, usually you were a bit more tough, something was obviously wrong.

The boys felt relieved whenever you eased up at the sight of them. "Boys? What're you doing here?" You murmured, a bit sleepy. David spoke up before anyone else could, still a bit skeptical.

"You didn't show. We got worried about you." You tilted your head a bit which Paul found adorable, he strolled right over to your bed and sat his pretty little ass down onto it, he always adored your "nest."

"Did I not tell you guys?"

"Tell us what?" Dwayne asked, he could all but sense the pain that was zipping through your body.

"Got my tonsils out today, wasn't gonna come out tonight."

"Your tonsils out?" Marko questioned,

"No puppy, you didn't tell us." David spoke a bit gruffly, coming off a bit more blunt than intended.

"Had us worried about you." Dwayne backed him up.

What none of the boys expected was for you to start...sniffling? Paul instantly perked up.

"oh no no no, baby- what's got you so upset?"

"I'm sorry," your words slurred, "didn't mean to make you guys upset- don't want you mad at me-"

Marko, frowning, went and joined Paul in your bed, flopping down onto it and playing with your hair. Dwayne walked over, touching your cheek.

"How many drugs do they have you on?" He all but mumbled.

"Hurts-" was all you had to say for David to finally cave, coming over to your bed with the others, sitting down on the side of it.

"I know, bub, just lay down, we'll make it go away."

The waves of santa carla's beaches were quiet against the sound of four purring vampires and one sleepy human sandwiched between them. When you woke up the next morning, a note from Dwayne was left on your bedside table.

"Don't strain yourself. Be back tonight,"

[charliedawn]

The Yule Ball

You were nicely dressed for the occasion and looked around you, but all the people present were wearing masks and you couldn't find any familiar faces..However then, someone that you didn't know took your wrist and you frowned at him. He was smelling like alcohol and he looked at you like a free coursed meal..

" Are you going to dance with me, little bird ?" 

You frowned and were about to answer that he could go elsewhere to have his dance when someone else interrupted you.

Severus Snape

"I believe she asked you to leave her alone. Can't you understand English ?" 

​​​​​​You both turned around in the direction of the voice and the boy nearly laughed at the boy who had spoken up. 

"You should probably watch your mouth, creep..I swear you give me the creeps even with your mask on. Besides, I'm sure the lady will probably choose me over you, isn't that right little bird ?!" 

He asked you loudly and a new determination filled you when you saw the crushed expression on the other boy's face. You got out of the other brute’s grip and punched him in the face so hard that you're sure he would feel it for days to come. You then spat angrily at him. 

​​​​​​"I would prefer his sweet company over yours any day, you oaf ! Now, get lost !"

The boy started crying and ran away with a bloody nose. You watched him leave and suddenly grimaced in pain at your injured wrist. The oaf had a hard face to punch…The nice boy who had tried to save you looked around shyly and you extended your hand with a kind smile. 

"I'm sorry..I'm usually not so violent but, enough is enough and sometimes, a punch in the face is all that they need to get on the right path..Will you dance with me ?"

He looked at your hand and your face multiple times over in shock before finally nodding. 

"But…But your hand ?"

You took out your wand and used a spell to make it brand as new and smiled reassuringly at him. 

"See ? As good as new."

He didn’t seem that convinced but, decided to take your hand anyway. You then started dancing slowly and you even caught a smile or two coming from your partner.

A few days later, you would learn that the nice young man’s name was Severus. Severus Snape.

James Potter

"I'm sorry but, where did you read on my forehead "Little Bird"? Because that's not my name and I sure as Hell am not dancing with you..ever."

The mean boy frowned at you before tightening his grip on your arm. 

​​​​​​"Who do you think you are ?!"

You were about to answer when someone did it for you.

"A classy woman with taste. And you are trash..Now that the presentations are done, could you please get away from my date ?" 

You turned around, surprised to see another boy standing there with his hands in his pockets and smiling forcefully at the one who had gripped your arm. 

​​​​​​"I don't like repeating myself..So, either you will have disappeared from my sight in the remaining 5 seconds or I’ll get out my wand and give you a little lesson on manners.."

The mean boy—fortunately for you—did not want to fight and ran away when he understood that the threat was real. The boy who defended you then tsskd and whispered angrily. 

​​​​​​"Coward.."

You smiled and put your hands on your hips. 

​​​​​​"Thanks for the help…But, I could have managed.."

He snorted mockingly at you and you frowned. 

"Like Hell you could. The guy was practically dragging you to the exit.."

You humphed unhappily at his reply and was about to get going when he gently took your hand. 

"Okay. I'm sorry. I tend to be a bit rude when I see things that pisses me off. And this guy definitely pissed me off. But, I would really like a..?!"

He didn’t have time to finish the end of his sentence that you were already dragging him on the dance floor. You started dancing and he smirked teasingly down at you. 

​​​​​​"I was gonna ask for a kiss…but that's nice too."

You blushed a little but replied with another humph. 

"Don't push your luck, Potter.."

But, you couldn’t hide your smile and he noticed it. He smiled back at you and whispered in your ear. 

"In all honesty, I was kinda jealous..I was not gonna leave that guy take your first dance..After all, you are my date, Y/N.."

Peter Pettigrew

You smiled politely but still insisted on the fact that you didn't want to dance, especially since you didn't know how, but the mean boy was persistent and you started raising your voice at him. 

"Hey ! Stop it ! I already have a date and I'm sure he'll be there soon !" 

The boy snorted mockingly at you before replying. 

"Sorry, sweetcheeks, but if anyone was coming, they would have been there already. Especially after seeing such a piece of work.."

He eyed you up and down suggestively and you blushed in embarrassment—with tears in your eyes. You were about to scream for help when someone suddenly took the hand of the boy and twisted it painfully, making the boy scream in pain. 

​​​​​​"The girl said she didn't want to dance. You should have taken the hint the first time around. By the way, sorry for the wait—darling—I took too much time to get prepared.."

Peter looked at you with a smile and winked playfully at you while the pervert got out of his grip and screamed. 

​​​​​​"You're crazy !"

He then ran away and you watched him go with a sigh of relief. But then, your savior took a step towards you and extended his hand forward. 

"I'm not a good dancer either…but it's better than being harassed by jerks like him all night, right ?"

You hesitated to take his hand, but finally did with a small smile. 

"Yes. Thank you, Peter."

He nodded understandingly before finding a corner where you would be far enough from any unrequited attention. He then started to dance with you and you felt safe in his arms.

Lucius Malfoy

You ignored the mean boy and politely asked him to move his hand away, but he only tightened his grip on you. 

"Come on. A girl like you should not be alone at a party like this one."

He whispered in your ear and you repeated firmly. 

"I was perfectly fine until you came along, sir..And now you're hurting me, so please stop and remove your hand from my person ?" 

He frowned at you but, as he was about to say something else, a hand gripped his wrist and you both turned towards the gentleman who was exceptionally well-dressed. There was only one person with such lovely blond hair and splendid fashion style. Lucius. He was frowning at the boy and said in a rather calm but threatening tone. 

​​​​​​"I think the lady was clear enough. You are hurting her and she does not want to dance with you.."

The boy glared at him but, let you go and walked away. Your savior glared at the boy until he was out of view and then, he looked back at you with a gentle smile. 

"Are you alright, my dear ?" 

​​​​​​You smiled back and nodded. 

​​​​​​"Yes, thank you.."

He nodded back and to his surprise, you were the one extending your hand towards him. 

"I know I just turned him down but, I really want to dance with you. You seem kind and I want to thank you for your help. But, if you don't want to dance, I'll understand and leave you be.."

​​​​​He looked down at your hand for a second before smiling and taking it. 

​​​​​​"It would be my pleasure.." He lead you to the dance floor and you started waltzing together. Then, he bent down and whispered in your ear. 

​​​​​​"You are lovely tonight, and as endearingly honest as the first time I met you…Y/N."

You smiled as he uttered your name and pulled him closer.

Sirius Black

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a dance with me ? See, the lady and I are a duo kind of deal and if you want to get into her pants..You shall also have to get into mine..Unfortunately, you're not really my type, so, I'll ask you kindly to bugger off, buddy." You looked at your mysterious savior with widened eyes and started laughing as he winked at you playfully. 

​​​​​​"Ugh ! Weirdos !" The boy said before walking away, surely to search for another young girl who wasn't protected by a nutcase. You looked up at him and he looked down at you with a knowing smirk. 

"Well ? Don't I get a dance after my brave attempt to save you ?" 

You arked an eyebrow at him before smirking too. 

"Would that not ruin our "duo" ? And brave ? Really ? You just made the both of us look like fools.."

He rolled his eyes playfully before extending his hand forward towards you. 

​​​​​​"For you ? I'll take the chance. And I don't really care what they all think, I saved a pretty lady and if you accept to dance with me ? It would have been worth it.."

You chuckled before putting your hand in his and answering. 

"Lead the way !" 

He then made you both break a path through the many dancers, searching for the spot with the most light and you arked an eyebrow. 

​​​​​​"Narcissistic much ?"

He pretended to be offended and gasped dramatically. 

"Me ?! Never.."

You both laughed together before starting dancing until the end of the song. You then looked up at him and he smiled down at you. 

"Anything on your mind, Y/N ?"

Your eyes widened in surprise.

"You know me ?" 

He chuckled before gently running his hand in your hair. 

"Of course I know you. Don't you recognize me ? After nearly one year in the same transfiguration class. I thought you would at least have learned my name."

It then clicked and you laughed.

"Well…I’ll be damned. The infamous Sirius Black. McGonagall’s worst nightmare. The prank master. Dancing with little old me. I feel humbled."

Sirius grinned wildly before pulling you closer.

"Yeah…But, tonight. Sirius will do just fine."

You were momentarily stunned before smiling back and accepting his hug wholeheartedly.

"Alright, Sirius."

Remus Lupin

"I'm sorry gentleman but, this lady is already taken."

The mean boy turned towards the boy who had just spoken—ready to protest—but finding that he was at least two heads taller than him and smiled awkwardly. 

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

He then quickly let go of you and walked away without adding anything. You smiled gratefully at the other boy while gently trying to soothe your wrist by massaging it. 

"Thank you. I thought he would never leave."

But then, he frowned at you and you felt scared for a second, only to be reassured when he extended his hand forward and asked. 

"Your wrist…May I see it ?" 

You showed it to him and he gently ran his thumb over the bruise already forming. He then surprised you by kissing it gently and you blushed multiple shades of red at the intimate gesture. He then guided you away to the part of Hogwarts where you could see the stars and you followed him, as if hypnotised…

He took out a chocolate bar from his pocket and handed it to you. 

"It will help with the pain. Trust me."

You took it with a grateful smile. 

" Thank you. You are very kind."

He smiled back at you and took off his mask. He then took a deep breath with his eyes closed.

"Finally…I hate masks." He then turned towards you and extended his hand towards you with a smile. "Remus. Remus Lupin."

You looked down at his hand before smiling and shaking it.

"…Y/N. Pleasure."

The Twins

"Hey ! That's no way to treat someone, especially a lady ! And sorry big boy but, she already promised me that dance..." 

A ginger-headed boy said while wrapping his arm around your waist. But the mean boy only snickered at him. 

"What are you gonna do about it, carrots ?" 

Suddenly, another arm wrapped itself around your waist on the other side of you and you were surprised to see the exact same boy who smiled cheekily at him. 

"Actually, she promised us that dance, Fred. And it's what we're gonna do to you that you should be worried about. And carrots ?! Really ?! Find some originality at least !"

The boy who was bothering you—outnumbered—ran off while the two boys looked at each other and laughed as they threw the same insults at him. 

"Chicken ! Ape ! Gorilla ! Cat-fish !…"

The one called Fred then added. 

​​​​​​"See ?! That's originality and talent in one swing ! Take some notes next time !" 

You smiled gratefully at them both, recognising your favorite twin brothers and kissed them both on the cheeks. 

"Thank you. You're my heroes."

They both blushed wildly and smiled widely at you before answering at the same time. 

"No problem !" 

You faked trying to remember before asking with a teasing grin. 

"Now…who’s my date again ?"

…They started arguing with each other before you decided to give each of them a dance.

[jasonsknight3]

Alright, it is time for chapter two! Enjoy!

⚠️warning⚠️ violence, mentions of gore, gun, and drugs.

The longest night

Chapter two

Fear Begins Now

Ever since you lost Jason it felt like a piece of you was missing. In its place was a deep hole that was filled back up with loneliness, sadness, and emptiness. Sure, you picked yourself back up but you have never loved another since Jason. You tried but. O filled that void. That loss. However, picking yourself up doesn’t mean that you are completely healed. In fact, you weren’t. You knew that. Sometimes you still have nightmares about that film. The film Joker sent Batman.

Your presence wasn’t known to Alfred, Batman, or Nightwing. All of them watched the film. Jason was so…broken, dead eyes, empty. He was empty. His body, broken and hurt. Misshapen, pieces missing, cuts, burns. A horrid sight. He was tied to a chair with barbed wire. Joker's voice came through the video. “Have you got something to tell the nice man Jason?” Joker questioned. Jason’s voice was rough and barely audible. “My name…is Jason Todd.” He said without looking at the camera recording him. Joker walked into the camera view and circled around Jason. “And who do ya hate?” Joker asked with an edge of humor in his voice as if trying to not laugh at a cruel joke. “Batman.” Jason answered quietly. “Excellent, of course you do.” Joker turned back to the camera, his face taking up most of it. “Here that Bats? Kidd not yours anymore. He’s mine. Mine to do with as I wish.” Joker walked away from the camera screen and spoke in a “hey I just got an idea” kind of way. “Hey, I never asked, what’s the big secret?” Joker curled around Jason leaning down to him. “Who is the big bad Bats name?” He cooed. “Tell me?” Joker walked away standing a little bit away from Jason. “Of course sir, it’s…” before Jason could even say a word Joker pulled out his ace of spades. His 15-3 revolver and shot Jason knocking him over. Seeing that you screamed in pain. It felt as if you had been shot too. Except there was no freedom of death. The bullet leaving you with pain, loss, and suffering. Bruce had you dragged out of the room by nightwing. Everyone mourned, everyone except Bruce. He never openly cried and you didn’t forgive him for that.

Currently you work at a business office as a “coffee girl” is what they call you. However, you really just work the front desk answering calls, organizing documents, and running errands. Surprisingly, you made good money but were treated poorly. Your second job was a bit more secretive. You still stayed in the loop with Batman and the rest of the crew. Often you walk the streets dressed in dark clothes and eavesdrop on criminals. Most of the time you find a nice spot to sit. Listen. When you listen you hear plans. Hear information on criminal activity. Your second job was slipping information to the vigilantes.

Standing on the rooftop the night sky was cloudy tonight as usual. The air smelled of rain to come. Rain would feel nice on a night like this. “Hey little birdie.” The sudden sound of Nightwing’s voice scared a small yelp out of you before you punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t scare me like that Dick!” He just laughed, “Ow, you didn’t have to hit me.” Sick rubbed his shoulder with a smile. Dick changed as he grew older and more mature. He grew up becoming a Boy Scout. A happy go lucky kind of guy. Sometimes it was nice and refreshing. Even better, sometimes his attitude was infectious in the moment. Let g out a small laugh and your body relaxes. “So, got any info for me little birdie?” He asked, leaning on the roof railing. “Yea actually, heard about some possible two-face activity. Harley Quinn may be coming back. Her heavy mourning stage is over….” The words catch in your throat. “Joker's death.” The name left a foul taste in your mouth. “I think she’s going to make a comeback.” You say quietly. Dick nodded “Okay, got any specific information on the Two-face activity?” He inquired. “Bank heists in old Gotham. Other than those two it’s been quiet. The bad kind that makes your stomach twist.” You explained finally leaning against the railing as well. “Thanks for the info.” He paused “How are you (y/n)?” The question threw you off. “Huh?” Was all you said as your eyebrows knit together. Dick frowned “well, I just know that…” Dick but his lip trying to find a way to word it. Even though you knew exactly what was coming. “His death anniversary is tomorrow.”

The words made your body feel heavy all of the sudden. Science says that women have heart strings. Those heart strings can break when really hurt. Could lead to early death even from not properly being able to pump blood. You know for a fact the day he died one heartstring broke, but every year when his anniversary comes back around it feels like another heart string begins to break. Hurts but doesn’t break. “I…” you start your sentence if you couldn't finish it before the tears start slipping down your cheeks. Dick pulled you to him so fast and wrapped his arms around you tight. “It will get easier.” Dick cooed. “I know.” You reply. You say those words but you didn’t honestly believe them. Not now anyway.

Eventually he let go and smiled at you to which you retired the smile. “Well, thanks for the information. You’ve always been a good help. Just as he wasn’t about to leave he turned back to face you on his heel. “And little birdie, tomorrow's Halloween, please, please, please, stay inside. Tonight and tomorrow night are some of the most dangerous nights of the year. When you go home stay safe, don’t be out tonight. Okay?” Before you could speak a loud screeching sound echoed throughout the whole city. All the screens began showing a scene, Paula’s dinner. I adore people screaming and tearing each other apart. A real blood bath, a scary sight to see. Even gunshots echo through the scene. “What is this? What’s happening?” You asked Dick. “I don’t know, I’m calling B.” As Dick walked off and began talking to Batman there screens all changed to a familiar face. “Scarecrow….” You breathe. He began to speak, his voice refined and calm. “This demonstration used just 5 ounces of my latest toxin.” That was only 5 ounces used? That small amount just caused over ten deaths. You picked up on the conversation Dick was having. “Only one survivor? What are we doing? What’s the plan B?” The scarecrow spoke once more. “Tomorrow, this will seem like child’s play.” That made your heart sink to your feet. “Gotham, this is your only warning.” Was the last thing scarecrow said before the recording cut out and played again. You look over at Nightwing who was off the call with Batman. “Dick?” He approached you, true uncertainty in his eyes.

“They are evacuating the city.”

Close up of scarecrow

[ddymarie]

☀︎ Bakugo x reader

OPACAROPHILE

☀(n) A Person Who Loves The Sunsets

☀You had a rare weekend with katsuki and you both decided to spend it with a beach date

☀includes: kissing, rubbing, water, body worship, use of good girl, car sex (back shots) .

☀ a/n : I haven't uploaded in a while ik but I have so many fics in my drafts ready to made! Also some song suggestions are scattered throughout the fiction from my 'random' writing playlist! Speaking of music I haven't been able to get bad by wale outta my head

The sky was filled with orange reds and yellows. The setting sun adding a glow to your brown skin. Katsuki eyes looked as if they glowed from the way the sun had affected them, as he towered overed you, even sitting down.

"Katsu~ " he mocked holding your face in his hands "katsu~, let's go to the beach" he mimicked your voice.

Rolling your eyes lying back on the towel. Black bathing suit (design of your choice) highlighting your curves. Your pretty jewelry added a glow to you. You looked like a goddess.

Your Bluetooth playing partynextdoor. The smirk on your face was quickly wiped away when your boyfriend suddenly picked you up " katsuki! " you screamed giggling "ahh! " the loud splash you caused-caused katsuki to laugh.

" you son of-" swimming back to the surface looking around for your petty ass boyfriend-only to not find him anywhere in sight. Just then you were lifted up from underneath. Katsuki arose from the water with you on his shoulders "look not so bad right, pretty?" he teased looking up at you.

The water dripping off him had you hot and bothered. Fuck he looked like he tasted better then he smelled in this moment. And your favorite thing about him was his caramel scent. It drove you crazy when he sweated.

Retreating from your position on his shoulders. Standing in the water. It came just up to your neck. Paddling your hands on the water as you splashed him. Your small smile soon grew bigger once he began to splash you back " oh, pretty it's on! " he looked into your eye's with a glare hinted with a bit playfulness.

Hours passed before you both decided to call quits on the water fun.

The sky had shined bright even during the night. Stars causing nothing but your silhouettes to appear. Together you both looked like Greeks God's. Especially with your arms around his neck and his on your waist kissing away like you would loose each other to the deep, dark depths of the water. It was majestic.

The sound of your bracelets jingling as you allowed him to lift you up by your thighs. Escorting you outta of the water. Lips just now breaking apart. You both gasped catching breaths you hadn't realized you'd lost.

" you look beautiful in that bathing suit. Might have to buy you more " he said squeezing what he could of your plump ass before smacking it,french kissing you.

Lying you you both down on the singular orange towel. Orange and black the same color of his trunks. Your glasses that once sat on top of your head now falling on the the tip of your nose.

Removing them off your face and setting the black shades a side.

Bakugo began trailing his hands down your body. Lifting a leg of yours over his waist. Licking his lips as he dove in stealing another kiss from you

"Uh-uh" you said looking at the blonded lover in the eyes waving a finger in his face 'no' was what it symbolized " wait til we get home, play boy" you said pushing the muscular man from a top of you

Getting up, taking the blue tooth with you to the car. Katsuki sat there for a moment mesmerized by your jiggling ass before abruptly getting up snatching the towel and your shades up with him trailing behind you...

Laughing as you jumped into your shared foreign car. Katsuki pulling outta the now empty parking lot.

Driving on the empty road one hand on the steering wheel the other on your thigh. It was a small simple gesture of his until it started to trail up your thigh. The car slowed down... Pulling into yet another empty parking lot...it was 10:30 pm

Unbuckling his seat belt while leaning over the the arm rest grabbing your face and kissing you causing you to drop what ever treat you had in your hand. You two had been on the breezy road for about 27 minutes. The large shirt that pulled over your bathing suit. Was now being lifted. The shirt was off within seconds along with your top... And panties.

In this foreign car let it go

You went from kissing in the front seat to receiving back shots in the back of your truck.

" mm~ " you whimpered this man was knocking the air outta your lungs. Leaving you breathless "fuck" he growled throwing his head back. Hands gripping tightly on your waist which was sure to bruise later. Your hips collided. You throwing your ass back meeting his hard forward thrust. " ah-ah ahh~" you moaned as he pulled your hair, Leg up on the seat spanking your ass leaving a visible hand print on your brown skined ass. " fuck, pretty, just like that " he said removing his hand off your ass and onto your neck.

You cried out begging.. Pleading " please~" what were you begging for? Shit you ain't even know. His thrust slowed as he tilted your head down putting you in a face down ass up position and he lurched forward " love this body, baby" he worshipped hands roaming with no destination in sight. The feel of your skin. Your curves. Had this man on his knees everytime he seen em. Whether at home or on the feild. As his thrusts slowed they got deeper. He drew his hips back further it was torture to you. But it felt "soo good~". The pleasure he was giving to you made you arch your back more. You stopped throwing your hips back letting him do his thing. And from there it was nothing but praise~

"Mm~" you whined at his words " ass so soft. " he said gripping your soft ass spreading your cheeks. Slipping a thumb in your butt "ahhh, katsu~" "yea thats right say my name, good girl~"

Take the time to find you out

You love when a young n! go down on it

"Say it baby" he groaned.

" in this foreign car, let it go" he whispered in your ear.

That was all you needed to hear before you let go. " I'M COMING,KATSUKI!" you moaned his name Cumming all over the seats. You both sat there in silence for a couple of moments.

"Guess someone couldn't wait til we got home" you said looking back with a smirk before passing out.

You woke up to the car pulling into your shared pent house parking lot.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

[i-am-a-l0st-gh0st]

Good morning, as promised, my first of two Gaming requests. Please kindly consider this Gaming fluff request: Gaming with a childhood best friend Reader whose mother used to be a dim sum chef at Liuli Pavilion. Growing up, Gaming becomes Reader's test-taster for their creative dishes (much like Xiangling but nothing too over-the-top). So, imagine both Gaming's and Reader's surprise when both Gaming's and Reader's father announce their betrothal on Gaming's tenth birthday.

Please also kindly take as long as you need with this request; I have no qualms in waiting. Furthermore, by no means feel obligated to prioritize this request over your other requests.

If you're lost you can look and find me- Gaminx Gn!reader

Time after time T/w- Old memories summary- AS shown above

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The sun burned brightly in the sky and the smell of dim sums filled the air. You were cooking away humming lyrics while you gracefully moved around like in a dance. Gaming was sitting at a table near you thinking back to the memories of when they were younger. You had been married to each other for about 3 years now and the love had only grown stronger. He was remembering the day your parents told you, you would get married to get other, you were both only 10 at the time.

“Why would I marry him? Ew.” You pulled a face at your mum, you just wanted to help her cook and now you had to get married when you were 18?

Gaming on the other hand had taken the news quite well. He may have been young but It didn't take a genius to figure out he had more than just platonic feelings from y/n.

“Dad? Why do we have to get married?” He said trying to match your tone.

“Well, it's good for both the families Gaming.”

He felt himself smile at you, seeing how cute you looked with your face all squished in concentration. “Hey, can you come try this?”

Gaming snapped out of his trance and walked over to you, and wrapped his arms around your waist. You handed him a new flavour of dim sum and he took it gratefully. His eyes widened as he remembered the flavour.

“Hey Gaming can you come try this.” Gaming’s mum called out.

The small boy bounced around the corner bursting with excitement. He was always so excited to try what she had made.

“It's very yummy mum!” Gaming's bright smile couldn’t be contained.

“I think your mum gave me that recipe.”

“It tastes exactly like hers. It's beautiful.” Tears almost started welling up in his eyes. These dumplings were one of the last things Gaming had left of her.

You saw the tears forming in his eyes and offered to make more if he wanted them. He just nodded at you with the puppy dog eyes.

“Gaming Gaming! Look what I made!” You came running out of the kitchen holding a plate of… sad… looking dim sums.

He tried not to grimace at the sight of them, He still wanted to make you happy so he slowly reached out and grabbed one. The dim sum was almost at his mouth. It touched his lips. Then went into his mouth,

He was very surprised that they tasted good, by the way they were presented.

“They’re amazing y/n!” He smiled the brightest smile you’d ever seen.

Taglist

@kpopmenace143

[kscheibles]

congratulations (college bf! au)

content warnings: f! reader, fluff

word count: 0.8k

dedication: to my sweet, sweet friend, mads (@toomuchracket), who earned her master’s degree today 🫰🏼

You sit on a stool at the countertop of your and Matty’s tiny NYC apartment, crowded with books, plants, and shoes you couldn’t quite give up in the move. You chuckle to yourself as you recall countless conversations with Matty as you packed up your dorm room – him “just checking again, sweetheart” that you needed a second pair of black heels. Boys never understand. You touch your steaming mug of tea gingerly, sipping it and letting the sweet, herbal taste melt on your tongue. Years ago, you would have made fun of him for having tea in the morning. Now, everything in your life is colored by him, and all the better for it. He makes the colors richer.

Matty is in the kitchen, donning a pair of grey sweatshorts and a graphic t-shirt making breakfast. You feast your eyes on the sight of him being so domestic. The past year, he’s been working while you’re still studying and completing your integrated master's program. As of a few months ago, you’re officially at the mercy of your dissertation committee to see if you’ll be awarded the degree. You’ve been feeling lost – like your life is on hold until you know the result. Stuck in a limbo between being accomplished and a total failure (not to mention broke from grad school tuition costs). Matty’s noticed a change in your disposition and adjusted well given the circumstances. He makes coffee, cleans the apartment, and plans dates like it’s his job. Right now, he’s standing in your shared kitchen, flipping pancakes with surprising agility, and doing a happy dance each time they turn out okay. 

He makes a show of bringing you your pancakes, speckled with chocolate chips and stacked uniformly on your nicest plate. Butter melts off of them and the smell of chocolate fills your nose. Matty sits beside you, his plate a shockingly different sight. On his plate are amorphous pancakes, lopsided and deformed. 

“What happened to yours?” you tease, pouring some maple syrup onto your plate and offering him the carafe. 

“Wanted you to have the pretty ones,” he says softly, accepting the syrup and kissing you on the forehead. You smile into his touch. 

You’re a few bites into your delicious pancakes when you get a call from one of your schoolmates. You look at Matty silently questioning if he’ll be mad if you take it and he waves you off. You pad into the bedroom, answering the phone calmly.

“Get your laptop out, bitch,” she states, curtly.

“What?” you ask, reeling. 

“Get your laptop out. They’ve released our dissertation grades. I want to find out the same time you do.”

You grab your laptop and bring it out to the kitchen counter, putting your phone down.

“You’re on speaker, Matty’s here so be nice,” you almost shout, simultaneously logging into your student portal.

“Matty, I’m always nice about you, she’s just being a dick,” your friend clarifies. 

“I know you too well to believe that for a second, darling,” he muses, fitting more pancakes into his mouth and washing it down with his tea, “What’s this about?”

“Are you on the page?” you ask into the phone.

“Yes, ready?” comes the staticky response, “Refresh on three.”

“Okay.”

“One…two…three!”

As the page reloads, you see the familiar crest of your school with the word ‘Congratulations’ juxtaposed over it. 

“Oh my god!!” you squeal, jumping up and down. Your friend cries excitedly on the other line.

“Babe, what on earth is going on, you haven’t told me a thing,” whines Matty to your left.

“You’re officially dating a girl with a master’s, Healy,” comes the voice from the phone. Matty's face brightens in every possible way: his eyebrows raise, mouth widens, eyes light up and squint in total contentedness. He comes up to you, hugging you tight and kissing your lips softly, unflinchingly. 

You pick up the phone, turning it off speaker and pressing it to your ear. 

“Congratulations, babe,” you muse. Matty looks at you with total adoration that’s morphing into hunger by the second. You meet his eyes as his eyebrows quirk suggestively. You smile and Matty leans down, kissing your collarbone and creeping up slowly towards your exposed neck.

“I have to go,” you nearly moan into the receiver, “drinks soon?”

“Yeah yeah whatever blow me off to be with your boyfriend,” she teases, “Love you.”

“Love you,” you make a kissing noise and click the phone off.

“Hey, I love you too,” Matty whines into your skin. You touch his hair once your hands are free.

“I know baby, I love you, too.”

“Yeah?” he meets your eyes, “Well I’m about to show you exactly how much. My perfect, smart, sweet girl,” he punctuates each word with a kiss below your ear.

He whispers “congratulations” one more time before lowering himself to his knees.

[johaerys-writes]

Chapter 4: and i'm still so blue

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

“...Three, two, one… Happy New Year!”

The cheers and applause from the party reach Patroclus distantly. His senses are dull and muddled, as if he’s in a dream or underwater. A firework goes off somewhere; then another, and another. Achilles sighs, tongue licking inside Patroclus’ mouth to kiss him deeper.

“Achilles,” Patroclus gasps, almost completely out of breath. His lips ache; they’ve been kissing for so long he’s lost track of time. “We need to go back. People will be looking for us.”

“I don’t care.” Achilles doesn’t pause in kissing him even for a second as he hooks his leg over Patroclus’ waist, pressing himself flush between Patroclus’ body and the bathroom door. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Patroclus groans a muffled protest, but it’s half hearted. He's dizzy from the alcohol and the lack of air, but still the thought of pulling away from Achilles is unbearable. His fingers slither beneath the hem of Achilles’ shirt, as if on their own, and the feel of bare skin is enough to make his head spin. Achilles moans loudly, urging him on, uncaring of who might be walking past the other side of the door.

“Be quiet, someone might hear us,” Patroclus begs him, though he knows he’s only fooling himself. Even if no one hears them now, plenty of people must have seen them kissing back at the party. One moment, Patroclus was talking with Briseis, Iphis and a couple of their friends; the next, Achilles was advancing across the crowded room towards him still in his winter jacket, snowflakes melting on his hair and his eyelashes, before all but throwing himself at Patroclus without so much as a ‘hello’. He had just stepped foot in the party yet he already smelled like smoke and his lips tasted of strong alcohol, and God knows what else.

Patroclus knows that what they’re doing is wrong. They’re both drunk—Achilles surely more than that, judging by how dilated his pupils are—and they’ve barely seen each other in months, besides. In the time Achilles has spent abroad for his masters degree, their communication has been sporadic, marked primarily by their many arguments. They should ease back, take it slow, talk about all this. It would be the right and sensible thing to do.

“Fuck me,” Achilles rasps against his lips, and virtually all of Patroclus’ sense flies out the window. “Fuck me right fucking now.”

“What— now ? Here?”

“Yes, here and now.” He reaches down to take his own shirt off. Patroclus only barely manages to grab his wrists when his shirt is already halfway off him, leaving his stomach and chest bare.

“Achilles, no,” Patroclus says, mouth dry and throat tight.

“Come oooon, Pat,” Achilles insists petulantly, “I know you want this too, don’t fucking tease me.”

“Not here,” Patroclus says, desperately grabbing Achilles’ hands again when they try to evade him. His resolve is hanging by a thread as it is; with Achilles naked, there’ll be no saving it. “Let’s go to my place first, at least. Please.”

Achilles rolls his eyes. He leans forward to kiss him again, but Patroclus edges back. At the sight of his disappointed frown, Patroclus’ heart flops and rolls over like a good boy. He can’t bear to see him frown at him like that, not for any reason.

So he does what he knows from experience will make that frown go away: he threads his fingers through Achilles’ luscious hair and gathers it in his fist; Achilles gasps in pleasure when Patroclus tugs his head back to kiss a path along his jaw. “I can’t do the things I want to do to you in this bathroom,” he whispers in his ear. “You know that as well as I do.”

Achilles trembles all over, a choked moan catching in his throat. “Okay, shit, let’s go,” he breathes out shakily, then finally lets them peel off each other and opens the door. “My car or yours?”

“I’m driving,” Patroclus says. He’s not sober, but at least he’s more sober than Achilles.

Achilles nods and agrees without bringing up any resistance, for which Patroclus is grateful. He gives Achilles his keys and tells him to wait for him in the car while he goes to pick up their jackets from the clothes room.

The party is still going strong when he makes it across Idomeneus’ expansive villa to the main room. The bass from the large speakers vibrates through the walls and the floor, and each smaller room and corner is taken up by people talking, dancing, making out, getting high. At least twice he opens the wrong door to find people sniffing neat white lines or popping back pills, and each time he’s offered some, which he graciously declines. It’s a relief when he finally finds the closet and grabs his and Achilles’ jackets, then hurriedly makes his way towards the exit.

He’s halfway down the stairs when he bumps into Briseis.

“Where were you?” she demands hotly. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Oh—sorry, I was just—” Patroclus stumbles over his own words. His face is hot, and he realises he actually never even bothered to come up with a believable excuse should he walk into someone he knows. “I’m tired,” he says finally. “I’m heading home.”

“Really.” Briseis quirks her brow, unconvinced. “And where is Achilles?”

“He’s…” Patroclus swallows thickly. “He—I don’t know, still at the party, probably.”

“You don’t know.” Briseis shakes her head and crosses her arms before her chest. She glances down at his hand where he's holding the two jackets. “You’re leaving with him, aren’t you?”

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Persephone's Devotee (Hello, Mr. Monster AU, II)

Master List

Summary: In the age of Spiritualists and magicians, wyrd winds in different ways to link Dream of the Endless and Aisling Hunt. AU of Hello, Mr. Monster beginning in the 1920s.

Warnings: Implied child abuse/neglect, manipulating children for profit (non-sexual trafficking)

IT'S BIRTHDAY MONTH, BABY. LET'S GET POSTING. My inbox is always open, so drop by with your questions, concerns, and convos.

Men ever failed.

Dream waited for a guard to sleep. For Roderick Burgess to scratch the golden border with his heel in a fit of pique. Someday, someone would make a mistake. It was the truth of humanity, and nothing, even a prison of magic, iron, and glass could last forever.

Years gathered in his keeper’s faces, and his outrage cooled into sharper forms. Intent. Disgust. Hatred even. Wrath brewed behind closed lips. He gave his captors nothing so long as they held him, but new nightmares twisted in his heart, ready to breathe and shriek to life.

The hours of the day made no change in his windowless hold, and he only judged the turning of the seasons by the weight of the coats his guards draped over the backs of their chairs. Their rolled shirt sleeves and the gleam of half-dried perspiration on their brows told him it was summer. Or near it. Persephone had returned to her mother’s sight and the sun glowed warm on the earth for another year.

He’d once pitied the queen of the underworld, especially when she was first forced below the earth, before her mother’s dogged pursuit of justice gave the goddess power and agency in her marriage. Now, he envied her. If only he had family who so cared for his freedom he would not languish in some paltry magician’s lesser hell.

As Dream of the Endless mulled over the injustices gathering like dust in the crevices of his prison, the door to his Underworld swung open. Though he couldn’t see the door itself, the light behind the gate’s bars turned golden, motes glittered like his sand in the beam as Roderick Burgess’s boy – well on his way to becoming a man – stumbled down the steps. His father’s shouts echoed down with him, and Dream’s posture straightened, buoyed by his captor’s distress even as the sun’s distant bloom pricked his heart with mournful hope.

In his rush, the child hadn’t even brought the key, and he pressed his face against the wrought iron, fingers twisting through to keep himself steady.

“Quick,” he panted. “Sykes is out, and the new ward collapsed. I’m calling a doctor, but one of you need to help the Magus move her…”

“Close the bloody door, you fool!” The distant roar cut off with a slam. Alex Burgess flinched away from his father’s temper, and the budding hope in Dream’s chest withered into an invisible wound, leaving an aching pit he rushed to fill with rage.

They so rarely visited him at this hour, on such a bright day. He wondered if he might’ve smelled the breeze if not for the glass, tasted yellow pollen and the ghost of ripening berries were he not locked behind magic and iron.

In truth… perhaps he did feel the heat, the touch of fresh air, a fraction of the world beyond. He sensed the whispered suggestion of wyrd pulling at him, plucking along the tattered place hope left when Burgess slammed the door.

Something waited for him beyond his prison. A step. A link unmade. It itched in the back of his mind like a phantom limb, and he nearly followed the call to move. To find and see. But his pride held him back from pressing his hands to the glass.

The elder of Dream’s two day guards turned to the other and scoffed. “Not here an hour and already causin’ problems. You owe me a pound.”

“There isn’t time for this,” the boy insisted. “She’s not well. Hurry! Please.”

He ran back the way he’d come, and barely a flicker of gilding touched the gate before it shattered behind the door again.

The guard who’d lost the bet rose with a groan, fetched the key from the table, and pounded off to answer his master’s call, closing each layer of security as he went.

Another burst of light and sound as the man left the cellar. Another tantalizing hint of the world above.

Dream did not move as his remaining guard straightened in his seat, twice as wary now that he’d been left alone with his charge. The Endless’s thoughts, however, groped after the phantom sensations he’d stolen with his gasp of light. He chased the thread of his wyrd through memory, looking for something to compare the moment to, but it slipped through his fingers, unraveling before he could reach the solution to his riddle.

He had little to do besides toy with the frayed ends of his story, and he refused to let the question lie, even when the second guard returned, the men ended their shift, the night guards arrived, and the guards of the day came back to sit in the same tableau.

------------------------------------------------------------

She woke to golden sun and dark wood, all warm and clean and entirely different from what she remembered. Someone had changed her into a nightgown, and she drifted back to herself in a small bed in a room with a slanting ceiling. An attic, maybe. She’d slept in those before. But this one was finished, with plaster on the walls and a window with proper glass and all.

And a boy was sitting by the bed in a rickety chair that creaked even when he wasn’t moving. Alex. He’d said he was Alex, and he’d taken her suitcase and asked if she was alright.

“How are you feeling?”

She pushed up to her elbows, peering around the room, and Alex poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table.

“Here,” he said, “you should drink something. The doctor said it was heat exhaustion.”

It took a moment to poke at the empty gap in her memory, like examining a canker sore with the tip of her tongue. “What doctor?”

The boy wrapped her hands around the glass and guided it to her face until she relented and started sipping. It was as nice and cold as the lemonade had been.

“You fainted. The Magus called a doctor. The doctor said you had heat exhaustion.” He laid out the facts the way she spread her cards. Careful and direct. “Are you feeling any better? You’ve been resting here a few hours now.”

“I feel fine.” She didn’t feel well. She felt unsteady and ill, but not like she had before, when her mind grew knuckles just so they could turn white with the effort of holding onto her goal: reaching Fawney Rig and making a good impression on her new guardian.

She wouldn’t make things worse. She wouldn’t complain. She was well enough.

“If you’re feeling up to it, the Magus would like to speak with you. I’ll step out into the hall while you get dressed unless you need my help, and then I’ll take you to him. Alright?”

Aisling scowled. “I’m not a baby. I can get dressed by myself.”

A smile fluttered through a quick life and death across his face. “Of course you can. I’m sorry. We’ve just been very worried. You looked so small and fragile when you dropped in the hall…”

The Fosters liked to tell Aisling she was too proud. She looked too many people in the eye that she shouldn’t, and she didn’t like to apologize when someone took offense to the truths they asked from her cards. Maybe she was. She’d learned she couldn’t trust people to be kind for very long, but she could rely on herself.

Sitting up straight as she could and lifting her chin, she said, “I am not fragile. It was a very long walk, and a hot day, and I am not tall.”

A ghost of the earlier smile echoed in Alex’s expression, which was better than the pained look of concern he wore before. But Aisling wouldn’t accept any softness if she couldn’t have respect first. Sitting just wasn’t cutting it, so she moved up onto her knees to see more eye-to-eye and held out her hand for a second attempt at good manners.

“We didn’t properly finish our introduction,” she said. “I’m Aisling Hunt.”

Alex adopted a – clearly false – somber expression, but he buried his mirth well enough to at least feign respect. More importantly, he accepted the handshake this time.

“Alex Burgess. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Hunt.”

The last name nearly shocked her out of her dignified pose. He wasn’t at all what she’d thought a child of the Magus would look or behave like. Not that there was anything wrong with Alex. He was an improvement on the pomaded princeling she might’ve expected.

She knew better than to ask questions. Open ears and closed lips. She hated whenever the Fosters told her to do that, but damn if it wasn’t a useful habit in new places with unknown faces. Find what was wanted, what was hated, before committing to a path. People would always tell her what they wanted, one way or another.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Burgess.”

“Just Alex, remember?”

“Aisling, then.”

“Aisling.” Another little smile. This one less condescending. Maybe even fond. “I’ll be outside.”

“Alright.”

The boy left the creaky chair and closed an equally creaky door. Aisling found her suitcase in the corner and put on a fresh dress that didn’t smell and tidied her sweat-stiff hair. Too late to make a good impression, but she’d arrived where she was meant to be. She went where she was told, and the Fosters couldn’t call her back even if they wanted. She was no longer theirs – their burden or their cash cow.

She didn’t waste time, barely pausing to sip a little more water to help her swallow down her unsteady stomach before reaching for the doorknob.

Her future waited downstairs, and the Magus expected her.

[annawritesblog]

Matchmaker (m.s.)

Summary: Angie loves walks but also books apparently. Her playfulness results in a matchmaking.

A/N: hey lovelies. Sorry for the long wait, but here’s my second imagine, this time with Mick. It’s missing Mick hours here, so I thought this would be cute. Also, English is not my first language and I do NOT speak German, all the bold texts were translated with google translate, so excuse me if something’s not correct. Enjoy🤍

Today is an exceptionally beautiful day in Switzerland. After days of rain, the beauty of fall is finally showing. The park is covered with leaves and families are spending quality time with each other.

Turning a page in my new book, I inhale the fresh smell of my cappuccino that I couldn't manage to drink in an hour. I'm just so caught up in this book, that I cannot concentrate on anything else. Earlier today, I decided to walk to the nearest park, find a bench and get lost in my book. And that's exactly what I did.

I put my book down and look at my surroundings: happy couples, dogs, trees, babies and older people. Everybody’s chatting and enjoying the last bit of sunshine. The picture is so calming, I could sit here and observe things all day. I wonder if there’s a job like- what the hell?

"Angie, was tast du?" I look down, where I find a dog playing with...my book? When has that fallen out of my lap? I must've been lost in my thoughts again. I should really focus more on what’s happening around me.

"Das tut mir leid." A tall, blonde guy approaches me and takes my book out of what I suppose his dog's mouth. Only if I'd understand what he's saying.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak german." I pause the guy who was still talking to me I guess.

"I-I was just apologising. I'm so sorry, she usually doesn't do things like that. I guess she got excited?" He hands me over my book that's a bit wet, but it salvageable. "I- let me buy you a new one, this one's a bit...damaged."

"No, no. You really don't have to do that. It's completely fine, I actually like it better this way. It's unique." I smile to the very attractive blonde in front of me.

He runs a hand through his short hair and looks to his left, where his dog is, looking all innocent and cute. "Can't be mad at such an angel, right?" He asks while putting the leash on the puppy.

"No, you really can't." I giggle and scratch behind the dog's ear. "What's her name?"

"Angie." He looks at the animal then flashes his blue eyes on me. "And yours? What is your name?"

"Y/n” I answer shyly. "Yours?"

"I'm Mick, nice to meet you." He shakes my hand and instead of feeling uncomfortable, I actually feel chills running up my spine. "Mind if I sit?"

“Not at all.” He sits pretty close to me and the smell of cologne hits me. I take a second to examine Mick: his short blond hair is somewhat messy, but it actually suits him. He has an Under Armour jogging set on, which shows off his massive arms. Before I know it, I’m blushing at the sight of that.

"You have a really pretty accent, Y/n. I like it a lot." Mick looks into my eyes and smiles widely.

"Thank you." Just as he wants to say something,his dog jumps on the bench, just between us. I pet the fluffy animal and coo at her just like a baby. I can feel Mick’s eyes on me, his stare burning holes in my body. God he’s attractive.

“So hey, I really do feel bad about the book. It’s not acceptable.” He says and fumbles with one of his many bracelets.

“It’s totally fine. Now it has a story.” I smile at the blue eyed boy but he just doesn’t let this matter to rest.

“Still, I would like to rebuy that. Or any book really.” Now he seems eager almost. Although, not gonna lie, a book shopping date doesn’t sound half bad.

“Okay, alright. You can buy me a new book.” He smiles at this and nods. The dog between us starts barking so Mick takes her by the leash and stands up.

“I think someone’s hungry.” He pets Angie’s head and the cutie starts to shake her tail. “I think we need to get going, but can I have your number? You know for the book?” He asks and I feel my face turning red.

“Yeah, sure.” I try to act naturally as he hands me his phone and I type in my number. I save the number alongside with my name and hand him back the device.

“Thank you. So, I guess I’ll see you later?” He scratches the back of his neck and I nod. He will see me again for sure. “Well then, have a nice day Y/n.”

“You too, Mick.” I smile as he walks away. The leash however was twister around his feet so he almost fell over.

“Get it together, Mick.”

[t4tvampireisms]

Now, You Feel So Alive

||Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester|| ||Post-Break Up Blues|| ||Flirting|| ||Bars|| ||Bikers|| ||Basically: DeanBenny, But Benny Is Like David From “Lost Boys”|| ||Kissing|| ||Handjobs|| ||Blood Drinking|| ||Of Course, What Did You Expect?||

Insanity brought to me by @boykingscourt . I hope you like it bestie. 😫🫶🏾❤️✨

—

This isn’t his normal haunt. But Charlie had insisted it’d be a good time, something to get his mind off of someone she’d cleverly labeled “He Who Must Not Be Named”. Aka, Dean’s latest heartbreak and most recent failed attempt at a relationship.

Her indignation and rage on his behalf at He Who Must Not Be Named’s tryst was something he was all for, but Dean hadn’t known that “getting him back out there” came with it as some sort of package deal.

Hence, now he was parked on a barstool nursing a lukewarm beer at some neon-lit dive called “The Dirty Dog”, a place that apparently catered to large hairy dudes clad in leather and denim-wearing barfly’s pouring their welfare checks down the drain alike. Charlie was somewhere off in a dark corner making out with a blonde grunge chick with spiked studs in her eyebrows, so Dean was left to fend off roving hands all on his lonesome.

The sounds of a jukebox rattling off classic rock and the heavy stench of sweat and tobacco provided background noise to the sudden wave of emotion sweeping through Dean’s body, surrounding and enveloping him like tar.

Moving to California was supposed to be a fresh start, and at first it kinda was; Dad had a good job, Sam was making friends with the local geeks down at the comic book store by the boardwalk, and Dean had even entered into a tentative relationship with a sweet Pastor’s boy by the name of Castiel.

Well, maybe a fresh start for everyone but him then, because Cas, as it turned out, had a particular taste for thorny brunette women named Meg, women who didn’t mind blowing him at parties with red lipstick smeared all over their faces like some sort of boring cliche.

Dean’s thumb caresses the side of his beer bottle, snorting derisively to himself at the memory of Castiel’s eyes going comically wide when he was caught; maybe Dean had just been apart of some sort of side quest to piss off a preacher, but since he’d blocked and removed the boy from his life in every way that mattered he’d most likely never know.

“Y’alright there, darlin’?”

Dean turns to his right, meeting the ice blue and calculating gaze of whoever had just decided to sit by him. He was handsome, Dean noted, features sharp and rugged with a healthy amount of stubble covering his chin and cheeks, hair dyed a platinum blonde that was almost white, teased at the top and fanned down at the sides into an almost death hawk; at this close proximity Dean could make out the smell of Marlboro’s, confirmed by the one tucked snugly behind the strangers ear.

He was alluring, beautiful, and after all the shit Dean has been through the past couple of days, he thinks he’s earned the right to a bit of flirting. Not breaking eye contact, he takes a long and slow swig from his earthy beer, licking the residue from his bottom lip afterwards. “Fine, now that you’re here.”

The stranger laughs, melodic in the way a church bell rings during a quiet Sunday morning after service. “I’m Benny. Y’got a name, handsome?”

“Dean.” He takes another pull from his beer. “You usually hang around places like this?” He asks, tilting the neck of his beer towards the sight of a grizzled older man pawing at the skirt of a girl who could’ve passed as his daughter.

“Do you?” Benny asks, watching the scene briefly before flicking his gaze back towards Dean.

A snort. “I asked you first.”

A smile, white and dazzling; a flash of what Dean thinks are unusually sharp canines glinting under the low light. “Mm. Sometimes; me and my gang, we just kinda wander. Try not to get kicked out.”

“Gang?” Dean repeats, raising a brow. “What, you in a biker gang or something?”

“Or something.” Benny smirks, eyes boring into Deans, as if he could see down to his very soul; it should’ve been unsettling, unnerving, but all Dean felt was an inexplicable magnetic pull. Like a trout on bait, waiting to be reeled in to the mouth of the consumer.

Dean’s own eyes are drawn to Benny’s hands, large hands wrapped up in worn-in leather gloves that looked fit for bike riding. The thought makes him feel warm; he’s always had a thing for bikers, especially bikers with pretty blue eyes and witty smiles.

Benny’s eyes don’t leave Dean’s as he lights up the cigarette behind his ear, the lighter itself silver and emblazoned with what looked like a skull and crossbones, only the skull itself had elongated teeth resembling those of a vampires. His lips purse as he inhales from the filter, chest rising and falling in a relaxed motion as he blows out thick clouds of smoke through his nostrils. “You feel like getting outta here?”

Dean looks around, spots Charlie tugging her latest catch towards the ladies restroom and realizes she ain’t leaving anytime soon. Any other time he’d feel bad about leaving his best friend behind, but right about now all he could focus on was the way Benny’s teeth tugged at his bottom lip, tongue poking out from between the pearly whites. “Yeah alright. Lead the way, gorgeous.”

Benny grins broadly, pushing away from the bar top as he grabs Dean’s hand and fluidly drags him through the crowd, as though they were moving to accommodate him and his movements rather than the other way around. Once the boys are outside Benny leads him towards the side of the bar not illuminated by neon signs, pressing him against the bare brick wall a moment later and capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

His stubble rakes against Dean’s skin, tongue probing and swiping inside his mouth as one gloved hand places itself by Dean’s head, the other going to cup his jaw with the thumb almost hooking into his mouth.

The leather is warm, smooth and thick, something his lips immediately latch onto when Benny’s pull away, sucking at the material and leaving it glistening with saliva. The aftertaste of cinnamon and clove from Benny still lingers on his breath, an ambrosia that leaks into his skin to leave him feeling scent-drunk and almost airy.

Benny watches him hungrily, ice blue obscured by the inky blackness of his blown-out pupils, and maybe it was just his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, but Dean could’ve swore he saw a flash of yellow in that predatory stare just a second ago.

“Beautiful.” He hears Benny murmur, pulling his fingers away to reclaim his mouth, feels as his lips travel from his jaw to his pulse point, sucking what would no doubt be bruises by morning into his skin. Dean groans, low and throaty, tilting his head back against the wall to further bare his throat to Benny, who hums appreciatively as he marks his neck.

So lost in a sea of bliss he almost doesn’t notice as the sucking becomes biting, the feeling of teeth puncturing Dean’s neck causing him to gasp and open his eyes; what he sees is Benny, still latched onto his neck, only his lips are now shiny with a mixture of saliva and blood, tongue gently and insistently lapping at the small wound he had created. He should be afraid, should pull back and shove the other boy away and tell him to fuck off. It wouldn’t be the first time a potential tango partner had gotten a bit too kinky for comfort.

But the thing was, Dean wasn’t afraid. He was enjoying every single zap and zing of pain mixed pleasure, endorphins and ecstasy flooding his body much like the first few seconds after ingesting the sugary sweet high of ecstasy.

Benny pulls away from Dean’s neck, his eyes hooded and almost completely clouded over; he looked just as high as Dean felt, lips swollen and tinged pink with ruby red liquid dripping down his chin. He looked almost animalistic, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, the jut of his cheekbones more prominent, the tips of his ears pointed in a way Dean hadn’t taken stock of until now. Whoever, or whatever, this boy was didn’t matter; Dean wanted to be destroyed by him.

“You taste so sweet, darling.” Benny cooes, leaning in with a kiss that was more an exchange of tongue, of taste, and Dean realizes with a jolt that he is currently tasting his own blood. He couldn’t taste anything apart from copper, but nonetheless it was still new and exciting. Kissing with Cas had been nice, but they’d never gotten beyond the stage of heavy petting. Maybe it was wrong to compare his ex to a boy he’d only known for less than an hour, but it seems as though Dean was neglecting all other rational thought and feeling in exchange for hedonism tonight.

Had he already mentioned how intoxicating Benny tasted? It was as though the boy himself was a drug, tasting of spices, herbs, and sweetness, settling into his bones and bloodstream like a warm and tingly alcoholic beverage; a talisman in a (semi) human form.

The hand not braced on the wall behind Dean travels down his side, weightless and featherlight, grazing his hip and the sliver of skin exposed by a shirt most likely one size too small for him. Nimble fingers trail along the waistband of his pants, dipping ever so slightly past the elastic of his boxers before continuing their journey. Dean can feel himself straining against the denim of his bleach-washed jeans, achingly hard and begging for any sort of reprieve; Benny, thankfully possessing the ability to seemingly read minds, takes mercy on him and splays his palm on the prominent bulge it finds, removing his hand from the wall to deftly undo Dean’s buckle and unzip his fly.

Once his underwear is tugged down and out of the way, exposing his flushed skin to the otherwise chilly night air, Benny wraps his gloved hand around his cock, stroking and twisting, pressing his thumb against the tightly stretched frenulum under his head, chuckling deeply as Dean’s hips stutter and buck further into his touch.

Benny strokes a little faster, swallowing Dean’s moans with deeper and deeper kisses, whispering all sorts of dirty things into his ear in that carefree drawl of his. His thumb swipes over the head once again, smearing pearly drops of pre-come over his erection, the sounds slick and obscene and downright filthy. It’s not long before Dean is coming with a choked off groan, spilling hot and sticky all over Benny’s hands and fingers. He nearly collapses, Benny’s arms steadying him as his limbs decide to take a last minute vacation without informing the boss.

“Fuck.” Dean voices, almost embarrassed at how wrecked and hoarse his voice sounded.

“Mm.” Benny licks at the sticky white fluid coating his gloves, making hot and heady eye contact the entire time. Dean’s already-spent cock gives a half hearted throb at the sight, but he doesn’t think he could go a second round even if his legs weren’t currently made of jelly.

After tucking his soiled gloves into the pockets of his wool duster coat, Benny leans against the same wall Dean was currently using as a support beam to light up another cigarette, relaxed and nonchalant in a way that would’ve been infuriating if it wasn’t so damn attractive; it only made Dean wanna work twice as hard to get him worked up in the future.

“Need a ride home?” He asks, keeping his eyes trained on the inky black darkness above as he hands the cigarette over.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.” Dean nods, accepting the offered vice and taking a deep drag of it himself. Tonight had certainly been one for the books.

—

Dean’s head is buried in his pillows when a heavy weight suddenly throws itself on his bed, jostling his body weight and forcing him to open his eyes to scowl at whatever had just disrupted his sleep. A floppy haired boy of sixteen glares down at him, bangs falling into his eyes and yet somehow he’s still able to pull off the pissed-off-parent look.

“Whatddya want, Sam?” Dean groans, squinting against the bright light filtering into their shared bedroom.

“Charlie said you ditched her; she saw you walking off with some punk, and she also said she didn’t see you return. Were you doing drugs? Was he your dealer?”

Dean groans again, grabbing a pillow and draping it over his head. “Since when did you become Dad?”

“Since you started sneaking off with blonde punks to do drugs.”

“I wasn’t doing drugs, idiot.” Dean tries and fails to aim a kick at Sam’s shins, which only causes him to move his aching muscles more than they clearly wanted or were capable of. “Just go away. I’m fine.”

Sam hmphs but ultimately decides to leave it be, for once, bouncing off of Dean’s bed with the sound of his footsteps departing for the door following soon after. “Dad made breakfast. You should get up.”

Dean’s hand grazes over the mark on his neck after Sam leaves, fingers hovering over raised and jagged skin.

Killer hangover aside, being with Benny was the most fun he had in weeks; if he was planning on seeing the beautiful boy again, and soon, no one else had to know.

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