#request for more and give out some more questions!

[nerdlvr]

not so little is it?

(MDNI)

younger jaemin x older reader , small age gap , jaemin is brothers best friend , ur brother is mark lee , big dick jaem , jaem is bigger than reader , size kink if you squint , kinda public sex (ur both in the kitchen & living room and mark is in his room) , harsh blowjob , cowgirl yeehaw , couch missionary , jaemin is cocky and mean , pet names like a lot , light mocking , degradation kinda , jaemin refers to himself and y/n in third person sometimes idk , jaemin knows how to use his dick damn... , requested here !

it  had been the fifth time that night that you had called jaemin baby. and not baby in a i wanna fuck you type of way, baby in a little boy type of way. If only you could go into his brain and see all the things jaemin would do to shut you up. maybe he’d stuff your mouth with his big, hard-

“babyy, are you listening? The popcorns ready!”

jaemin felt his eye twitch, a small fake smile directed at your pretty face. he shook his head softly, turning his head back to focus on the movie.

“dude you need to stop calling him that, we’re not even that much younger than you.”

jaemin could not agree more with your brother.

he was never one to hold grudges, it was childish, unlike him. but for some reason you had been more annoying than usual tonight, the high pitched ‘baby’ and the sweet toned ‘minnie’ only itching him in all the wrong places.

he turned to the clock in mark’s room, 2:00 AM, well shit. had he really laid here for 3 hours straight thinking about your annoying mouth? his eyes drifted down to his now tented boxers, well double shit. maybe thinking about your mouth right next to your sleeping brother wasn’t the best idea. he needed a walk.

.

the cool air from the fridge numbed his senses, his nipples perking up at the soft breeze.

ice cream, butter, cheese, ew. did mark have anything without milk? wait isn’t mark lactose intoler- “his fridge looks like something out of a horror film right?”jaemin felt the hair on his body rise as he jumped, the fridge shutting loudly behind him, a hand coming up to his chest, “jesus you scared me.”

you giggled as you poked his bare chest, "sorry didn't mean to scare you baby. was just coming out for a snack."

baby, did you like to test his patience? he pushed your hand away as he let out a loud huff, "don't call me that."

your soft giggle continued to ring in his ears, your hands now moving to pinch the fabric of his boxers, "call you what, bunny boy?"

his eyes drifted down to his boxers, small bunnies adorning the fabric. he grabbed your wandering hand, smirking as you let out a pained whine. "does your mouth do anything good besides spout nonsense?"

you ripped your hand away from his tightening grasp, your free hand coming up to massage the sensitive skin,"what's your problem jaemin? i'm being nice to you and you're acting like a brat!"

your eyes widened slightlyy as a scoff left his mouth, lips quirking up into a smirk, "nice? you're treating me like a fucking child y/n. i stopped being little years ago. maybe you've been too busy bitching to even notice!"

your heads turned quickly as you heard shuffling from mark's room, his sleepy groans muffled by the thick walls.

"whatever tough guy, i'm leaving, your attitude ruined my appetite."

his arms were quick to stop you, trapping you against the kitchen counter, "where do you think you're going? where's my apology?"

it was your turn to scoff, eyes rolling at his questions. "apology? grow up na jaemin, you're not getting an apology if i did nothing wrong." you pushed at his chest, muscles firm against your hands. when did he get so strong? you mumbled out a low move embarrassed by your lack of strength against him.

he chuckled, breath fanning against your face, "give it one more go baby, maybe this time you might get it."

you bit your lip, head turning to look anywhere besides his bare chest, "this isn't funny, move or i'll-"

"you'll do what y/n?" he licked his lips, smirking down at you.

damn you na jaemin, damn you and those strong muscles, damn you and those plump lips, damn you and this new attitude that is so so hot. you gulped loudly, looking away as you tried to sneakily squeeze your thighs together, heat building between you legs.

"something wrong?"he leaned in closer to you, lips just one breath away. you turned your head further away from him, edge of the counter pressing deep into your back.

"you think being immature is cute jaemin? get off of me!"

he pressed his forehead against the side of your head, breath fanning against your ear. "no-"

he lifted his leg slightly, using his his knee to gently press against your core. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, head lowering just enough to watch his knuckles turn white against the counter. "but you clearly do. been squeezing these pretty thighs together since i started raising my voice at you."

you kept quiet, eyes squeezing shut as his knee pressed further against your heat, "who's the baby now hm?" you ignored him, brain zoning into to light pressure being applied to your clit, only a light hum being your response.

"answer me when i'm talking to you." your eyes fluttered open as he gripped your chin, moving your face so you'd look at him, "m-me jaem."

he tilted his head, smirk growing wider, "what was that?"

you swallowed your pride. there's no way you're gonna miss this opportunity. "i-i'm the baby jaem." he could help but chuckle, leaning in to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, "good girl, you learn quick. now lets put that bratty little mouth to good use."

you sunk onto your knees like your body was possessed, hands coming up to tug at his boxers. his cock sprung free, slapping his toned stomach. he was big, tip flushed and leaking.

his hand was quicker than yours, grabbing onto the base of his length to slap it against your cheek."not so little huh? call me baby again little brat."

"b-bab-" he chuckled as your words came out gargled, his cock being shoved into your mouth to silence you, "you look better with your mouth full." your eyes squeezed shut as you focused on your breathing, jaw relaxing slightly.

he was heavy on your tongue, smooth skin rubbing against the sides of your mouth. you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in further. "shit angel, mouth so good, keep doing that."

you bobbed your head against him, spit threatening to spill past your lips. the sight above you was heavenly, pink hair held up with his hands as his mouth hung open. he let out soft pants as he tried his best not to thrust into your mouth. "let me- fuck- let me do it."

his hands moved into your hair to hold your head steady, hips starting to pick up a rhythm. you batted your lashes up at him, soft moans spilling from your mouth as he pressed deeper into your mouth, "look so pretty like this- just wanna-"

you gagged loudly as he pushed the rest of his length into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. he held you there, your nose pressed against his pubic hair as you swallowed around him.

his groans went straight to your core, thighs squeezing impossibly tighter. he pulled you off in one swift motion, laughing as you gasped for air, eyes watery and lips swollen.

"look at you-" he slapped your face lightly, "acting so grown and can't even take my cock- get up and turn around."

but you remained on your knees, whimpering as you wiped at your mouth. you hadn't noticed you were crying until jaemin leaned down, warms hands rubbing your cheeks, "awe you crybaby, minnie's cock got you all worked up hm?"

you pushed his hands away struggling to get up, legs sore from the kitchen tiles. his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against his chest, "still so stubborn, baby just needs some good dick fucked into her so she'll learn hm?"

he laughed at your weak yelp, his arms lifting you up as he walked towards to living room, "now you're gonna show me how much you need this dick."

he sat on the couch, placing you right on his lap, face to face with you. "go on put it in." your cute pouts did nothing to him as he moved his arms to rest them on the back of the couch, head nodding to urge you to continue.

you whined softly as you hovered your hips over him, hand coming down to push your panties and sleep shorts aside. your cheeks burned as you both looked towards your heat, wetness dripping onto his length. he threw his head back as he let out a soft groan, "fuck baby, what would mark think about me having his big sis dripping all over me hm? like the idea of getting fucked by me that much?"

you nodded quickly shame evaporating from your body as you began to rub his tip along your soaking cunt. he hissed under you, his hands gripping the couch cushions, "don't tease baby, wanna feel you."

you sunk down slightly, hollowly fucking yourself on his tip. your bottom lip was trapped between you teeth, body leaned back as you gripped onto jaemin's thighs. he couldn't help but groan at the sight of you, body covered up by your pjs but your pussy on full display.

he moved his hand to your tummy, fingers slipping under your shirt to pull the fabric over your tits, "fuck, you little minx, look at you dripping on my cock- shit, keep going."

you whined loudly, soft pants leaving your desperate lips as you sunk down on him, the stretch hot against your walls."c-can't jaem, too-"

his hand gripped you breast, rolling your sensitive nipples against his fingers. he pouted up at you, a slight tilt to his head, "can't what baby, hm? minnie's dick to big for my little princess?"

you huffed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as you threw your head back to hide.

"that's okay angel-" his hands traveled down to your hips, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he lifted his hips to meet yours. the loud slap of your hips vibrated against the living room walls, a soft cry leaving your lips as you leaned forward, stuffing your face into jaemin's neck.

"it's okay-" his hips began to move, your slick making it easy for him to slide against your walls, "you can take it baby see? you're so good for me- fuck"

you whined against his neck, walls tightening around his length as he slapped his hips up. "jaem, jaem, please, oh my- feels so good baby, so deep."

he laughed at your small squeak as he suddenly picked you up, placing you in the corner of the couch, your back pressed against the soft cushion,

"i'm gonna need you to be quiet now okay princess? don't want mark to know how good i'm fucking his big sis hm?"

you nodded quickly, mouth hanging open as he slid back into you without warning, a small moan leaving his lips. "fuck jaem i can't- just please, want it so bad jaem, plea-" your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your loud moans, his hips moving to repeatedly slam into you, his length angled in just the right position.

"fuckkk yes bunny, look at you. pretty pussy sucking me in so good." his pace was relentless, one of your hands having to muffle your moans and the other gripping his arm for stability. you sunk into the couch, cushions bouncing under you from each thrust.

he leaned down close to you, body radiating heat against your chest, "want you to cum baby, i'm so close, so clo- fuck yeah baby just like that, so fucking tight shit."

you squeezed around him your stomach tightening as his words filled your ears. all you could think about was jaemin. his strong arms surrounding you, his warm body enveloping you, his soft moans urging you to cream on him and- oh. he hand flew down to your core, finger pressing gently on your clit, "come on angel, cum for me, wanna feel it, need it baby, please."

you squeezed your eyes shut, teeth clamping around your hand as you arched your hips up. the tight feeling in your stomach radiating throughout you, body shaking as you let go.

he stilled inside you, head pressed into your neck to muffle his own moans as he came inside you, whimpers of your name leaving his lips as he panted against you, "fuck, fuck, fuck, so good, so good for me bunny, you did so good."

he kissed around your neck, lips trailing up onto your lips. the kiss was sweet, soft touch of his lips making your body tingle. his grip was warm against you as he held your trembling body.

"shhh, it's okay, you're okay-" he kissed your cheeks, hands rubbing your sides, "minnie's here baby, i got you, everythings-"

you sunk deeper into the couch as you heard the fridge door slam shut, watching as jaemin's eyes landed on the kitchen entrance, "jaem?" mark's sleepy voice broke the silence, "what are you doing out here?"

jaemin stuttered slightly, pink cheeks still evident against the dim lighting,"i- i was just-" you heard mark take a loud sip of something, clearing his throat after, "if this is about my sister- she's, she's just annoying, all that baby stuff is just her being annoying. you know- sometimes i even kinda feel like she might like you or something."

jaemin bit his lip, only a loud mhm being his response as his now soft length slid out of you, "yeah so, don't let it get to you jaem, get to bed alright?"

jaemin nodded, saying a quick goodnight as mark left his sight. he looked down towards you, a scared look on your face, "so you're into younger guys, huh bunny?"

your giggles filled the small space as you rolled your eyes, hand gently slapping his chest. he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, a wide grin on his face, "don't worry, i like bratty older women too."

[baby-yongbok]

Come Back Soon

Bang Chan × afab!reader

✮ Genre: Smut, Sex Worker!Bang Chan ✮ Word count: 5k ✮ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors DNI), sex work (Like a sexy host club kinda?), oral (m rec.), nipple play, unprotected sex, Reader is called pretty (a lot..) ✮ Summary: Who's the cute guy with the white jacket and the thick accent? ✮ A/N: Bang Chan + Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter as requested by this anon! Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✮ Masterlist✮

In your defense, it’s not a brothel. It just kind of operates like one.

You heard about Railway from a friend of a friend. It’s a hole in the wall club that she swears is a gem. You looked it up and found close to nothing. There was only a small reddit community of people in your area asking questions about this mystery place. Here’s what you gathered:

It’s a club where women can meet men and pay for attention. Whether or not that attention includes your clothes being ripped off in a private room or a tongue down your throat is up to you. 

You decided to visit one Thursday when your Tinder match was being flaky and you were sick of waiting for replies from men who were either a catfish or can’t find the clit. 

The place was hard to find. You walked passed it twice before you realized that you needed to go down the sketchy staircase next to the hotpot restaurant. 

You expected a place packed and run down with women all over the men working there. You expected a mess and you were met with the opposite. The space was clean, pretty and not nearly wild enough to be considered a club. There are red curved couches and lounge nooks all around. A fully stocked bar and music playing loudly but not so loud that you need to yell. This is not at all what you imagined. 

You learned that night that the only guys in the club were the ones working there. They come up to you, charm you, and only stay if you want them to. If you decline they’re onto the next. 

You spent some time there, got some attention but it wasn’t until your eyes met his that you really felt like you were getting the attention you desired. He was in a suit, no shirt underneath the jacket and looking damn good while doing it. He walked into the room like he was six foot two even though he’s just about average height, it doesn’t matter to you though - he’s hot. 

Once he saw you he went straight for you, walking over like he had all of the time in the world. You sat pretty on the couch, sitting up a bit straighter and sipping your drink like you didn’t even notice him. He thought that was cute. 

“Excuse me.” Oh? Is that an accent you hear? You hum, looking up at him like he didn’t have your attention from the moment he walked in. “Is this seat taken? Or can I join you?”

That’s how you ended up meeting Chris. 

The two of you sat and spoke for at least thirty minutes before his cautious touches turned into much more and a make-out session in one of the lounge nooks. 

He pulled you into his lap, hands on your hips and pretty sounds clashing with yours. You considered taking it further for a second, just a second before your phone rang and your friend effectively cockblocked you. Chris thought it was funny. He smiled while you pouted about having to leave but he didn’t let you go without another kiss - deep and lingering. His tongue on yours and those pretty hands on your hips.

“Come back soon, yeah?” He smiled up at you, his eyes turning into gleaming crescents and you were hooked. Unfortunately, the soon that you promised him wasn’t as soon as you wanted. 

Work has been hectic, your friends have been messy and you’ve just been busy. Every plan that you had to return got canceled until tonight, Christmas Eve. You threw on a red sheer dress and put your phone on Do Not Disturb. When you get to the club this time there’s a guy at the door, a cute blonde with a deep voice and pretty accent. He gives you a card with some instructions for the night. You look it over and turn to him.

“Wait, how does this work?” He smiles - fuck, he’s hot - and points out the QR code on the card. 

“You can scan this to get the clubs app. Then you go to the event tab, press the holiday party chat and it will match you with a random guy from the club. You chat anonymously and if you like him you can take it further. If you don’t like him you can unmatch the chat and try again.” You nod, half entranced by his voice and half listening. 

You nod at him, smiling sweetly but his smile has got you beat. Is he on the app? Gosh. 

You head over to the bar and order a drink then scan the code. You open the app and it’s surprisingly smooth. You follow the instructions that the hot blonde gave you and go to the holiday party chat. A button pops up with big pretty letters reading “Spin”, so you do. Two seconds pass and the bartender is sliding you your drink while you get connected to a chat. This is interesting. 

So, the guys are nice. Really nice, but there’s no spark. You’re on your second drink and you just unmatched your second chat. You look around the club, the men are dressed in sexy, festive all white outfits with their main charming point on display to lure attention. 

 You scan the room looking for that familiar face you made out with a month ago but there’s no sign of him. You sigh, deciding to try your luck and press the pretty button on your phone again. You get connected to someone new and they start off the conversation just as the others did, sweet.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here alone on Christmas eve?”

You sip your drink, typing a reply and waiting less than a second to get one back. 

- You think I’m pretty? You don’t even know who I am yet. - “Let’s play a game then, yeah? I’ll guess.”

Oh? This is getting interesting.

- And if you guess the wrong pretty girl? - “Then unmatch me.”  - “If I don’t recognize you then I don’t deserve your time.”

Wait… did he say recognize? Like he knows you? Knows what you look like? You look around again, searching for Chris. You’d recognize him in a heartbeat but he’s nowhere to be found. You turn your attention back to the app to see that your match has texted again. 

- “Deal?”

You hesitate but agree. You wait with bated breath as you watch the little chat bubble pop up.

- “By the bar? Sinful little red dress.”

You stare at his answer then look around again. What the hell?

- “You didn’t unmatch. I knew I had the right pretty lady.” - Lucky guess, I’m not the only pretty girl in a red dress. 

You scoff, getting ready to unmatch when he texts back.

- “But you’re the only one here tonight that I was hoping to see again.” - “The only one here that I’ve had my eye on for far longer than I should.” - “The only one I was hoping to match with so I can kiss those pretty lips again.”

Oh fuck, it’s him. Thank the heavens.

- Oh? Is this the guy with the cute accent? - “Pretending that you don’t remember my name? I’m hurt.”

You smile, finishing your drink and texting back. Suddenly you’re having a good time. A very good one. 

- Remind me of it. - “Oh, I plan to”

The chat is ended before you can text back and your heart drops. What happened? Did you actually hurt his feelings? What does he mean he plans to? The bartender interrupts your flurry of wonder before you can go any deeper. He slides you a shot and you furrow your brows. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t order this.” The bartender smiles at you and nods to the other side of the bar. “It’s from him. On his tab.”

You turn around and your heart drops to the center of the earth. Chris is there. White fur jacket, white pants and no shirt. He’s leaning against the bar with a grin that you’d like to kiss off of his stupidly handsome face. How could you forget to look behind you? 

You lock your phone and turn your bar stool to face him. He’s sipping on something while his eyes roam down from yours and over the curve of your neck then the swell of your chest. He’s practically eye fucking you and you have no idea what to do about it. So you take the shot. 

The burn of the alcohol along with the desire bubbling in your core is enough to steel you for the moment that Chris pushes back off of the bar and makes his way over to you. You get a full view of him as he walks over and part of you starts foaming at the mouth while the other part of you has to hold down the fort and act normal about this. 

“Excuse me.” His thick accent rings through your ears and you grin. “Is this seat taken? Or can I join you?” 

“Is that your pick up line or something?” The dopey smile on your face gives Chris all the confirmation he needs to take the empty seat next to you. “You should come up with something new.”

“Is that right? Any suggestions?” Damn it, he’s still as hot as you remember. “I could just tell you how stunning you look in this dress instead.” 

You feel a flush creep up your neck at his compliment. "That's a start," you manage to say, trying to keep your cool. "But I've heard better."

Chris smiles leaning in a tad bit closer. Just enough for you to notice, "Oh? Then I'll have to up my game." His eyes sparkle with mischief. "How about this - I've been waiting to see you again every night for a month. I was starting to worry I'd lost my touch. What good am I if I can’t get the prettiest woman coming back to see me?"

You laugh, the tension easing slightly. "Maybe I was just playing hard to get."

"Were you now?" Chris raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "And here I thought you forgot about me."

"Trust me, it's impossible to forget about you," Your mouth was moving before you could stop yourself. We’ll blame that on the alcohol. 

“You’ve thought about me then?” He asks with a smile that’s much sweeter than any other that you’ve seen tonight.

Fuck it, let loose, It’s Christmas eve. 

“Maybe I have, but the details are classified.” That takes his sweet smile and turns it into a blush real quick. You can’t help but mirror him since you just indirectly admitted to thinking of him while you had some solo play over the past month - which is one hundred percent true.

“Classified, hm?” He speaks up, nodding. “I’ve thought about you too. And those details are free to the public. If you ask for them.”

Your heart races at his bold admission. That was unexpected. You lean in closer, your voice lowering to a sultry whisper. "And what if I did ask?"

Chris' eyes darken ever so slighty. He leans in too, his breath hot against your ear. "Then I'd tell you how I've imagined your soft skin under my hands, the taste of your lips, the sound of your moans as I..."

He trails off, pulling back slightly to gauge your reaction. Your breath catches in your throat, heat pooling low in your belly.

"As you what?" You breathe, unable to look away from his intense gaze.

Chris grins, hoping that he has you hooked. "On second thought, that information is classified. The rest you'll have to find out from experience."

You swallow hard, your mind racing with possibilities. "And how exactly would I do that?"

He reaches out, his fingers trailing lightly over your hand that’s resting on the bar. 

“Come with me downstairs.” There’s a downstairs to this place? “I’ll get you away from the noise and then we can make some of our own.” 

Your heart races as you consider his offer. Every bit of you is screaming at you to take his offer and bring your lingering fantasies to life but you still try to play hard to get. At least you were going to before the alcohol and desire coursing through your veins drowned everything out and had you nodding in a quick second. 

"Lead the way" You say, your voice huskier than intended.

Chris' eyes light up with a mix of surprise and excitement. He stands, offering you his hand before you could even dare to change your mind. You take it, relishing the warmth of his skin against yours. As you slide off the barstool, you take him in and realize just how little justice your memory of him does for his insane body.

He guides you through the semi-crowded club, his hand on the small of your back sending shivers up your spine. You follow him down a narrow staircase, the music fading as you descend. The basement level is dimly lit, with plush velvet sofas and private alcoves tucked away in corners.

He leads you over to one of the private spaces, very few of them are free but he leads you to the one in the corner like it was reserved just for him. “After you.” You step into the cozy space. There’s a couch on one side, a semi-sofa on the other with a small table next to it, then there’s nothing but a bare wall.

Chris slides the door shut behind the two of you as he steps in and it’s almost like you’ve entered your own soundproof barrier.

He almost looks sheepish when he steps forward to close the space between the two of you. His hand finds its way back to the small of your back, his touch gentle and warm. You turn to face him fully, his proximity making your heart race.

"Now where were we?" He whispers, his shy smile turning into a more sly one. You look up at him, unable to tear your gaze away from his. 

"I like your coat." You comment, changing the subject to buy yourself time to calm down but the desire thick in your tone lets you know that there’s little that you can do to calm yourself. "It looks good on you."

He grins, "It would look better on you." Before you can protest he's shrugging the long white fur off of his shoulders, leaving his broad build open on display for you. You stare, taking in each dip and curve of his chest and stomach. How could you not?

He drapes the coat over your shoulders and you smile in a nearly futile attempt to stop the moan clawing up your throat when you realize that the warm fabric smells like him. You slip your arms in the sleeves and Chris hums in approval.

"Now..." He brushes your hair back, his gaze shifting into something more possessive now that you're wearing his coat. "Where were we?"

"Right about here, I think." 

Before he can react your lips are on his in a hungry and demanding kiss. We'll blame this on the alcohol too.

 You melt into him, your hands indulgently taking in the soft skin of his bare shoulders while he returns your passion. His tongue traces along your bottom lip and you part them, allowing him entry. 

He groans into the kiss, his hands finding purchase on your waist for just a second before he lets them trail up under the fabric of his coat and over the sheer of your dress. Every inch of you that he takes in is better than anything he could've imagined in the month that you've been on his mind.

 He pulls you closer, his desire getting the better of him. He has to know what you feel like against him. He just has to.

 You can feel his erection pressing into your hip and a rush of arousal floods between your thighs. 

Your hands explore his chest, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. He pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with need.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his accent sending shivers down your spine. "This is part of those classified details, ya know."

"Mine too." you admit, biting your lip. "So don't stop."

With a growl, Chris captures your lips once more, his hands sliding further up your back just to slide back down to your waist. You press yourself against him, craving every bit of him you can get your hands on. The proximity deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, leaving you breathless.

His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing them through the fabric of your dress. A soft moan escapes you and he swallows it, his lips trail kisses along your jaw and down to the sensitive spot on your neck. You squirm against him, his touch driving you crazy.

"Fuck, Chris," You gasp, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Say my name again," He breathes, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Chris," You whimper, his name slipping from your lips without a second thought.

His hands leave their exploration of your curves and trail their way up the backs of your thighs and over the curve of your ass. He lifts you up, bypassing both sofas to pin you against the wall. Your legs wrap around his bare torso, pushing his pants down lower on his hips. Once he has you settled he begins to work his way down your neck, his lips setting off a blazing trail of fire across your skin.

"So soft," he mumbles, his accent thicker now, betraying his growing desire.

His mouth trails back up to yours, stamping a hot kiss against your lips and pulling away right after. You whine, chasing his lips with yours. 

"Impatient, are we?" He chuckles, his hands pushing the bunched up fabric of your dress further up your thighs. You shiver, goosebumps forming where his fingertips brush against your skin.

"You're doing everything right, how could I not be." 

"Oh? Is that so?" He hums, his lips brush over yours teasingly.

"It is." You breathe, your hands moving over his shoulders to tangle in his hair. This time you kiss him, it’s deep and indulgent but then you break it to kiss over his jaw. 

"You're a fucking tease, you know that?" He groans, his thumbs stroking the smooth skin of your thighs. It’s taking all of his self control not to absolutely rip you apart.

"Me?" You breathe, smiling against his skin as you place another kiss. "I'm not the one whose been flaunting around the club half-naked all night. And now you’re here teasing me."

Your teeth graze over the shell of his ear and his cock jumps in his pants. He moves swiftly yet gently, turning to lay you down on the sofa. 

“Am I being a tease?” He asks, staring down at you with those dark brown eyes while his hands work on his belt. You watch the way his fingers move so strategically. The veins in his hands alone are enough to get you feeling hotter. “How can I make it up to you?”

He’s diving down to attach your lips before you can even answer. His hands smooth over your curves hurriedly until he reminds himself to take his time with you. His hands are back on your breasts, pulling down the red fabric of your dress to expose you to him. He catches himself, stopping and pulling back just a bit.

“Can I see you? Is that alright?” You nod, whimpering a hasty “yes” then crashing your lips back to his. He moans against you, pulling down the last of the fabric containing your breasts until they’re resting in his palms. He groans and you swallow it. 

Chris lighty pinches and pulls at your nipples, the buds rise at the attention and you moan in response. "You like that?"

"Yes," Your fingers tangle in his hair and tug. "How about this?" He rolls one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your head falling back.

"That's it, baby. Let me hear you." He dips his head down and takes one of the stiff peaks into his mouth. The sound it pulls from you is unbecoming but you ignore the embarrassment lingering in your chest and let the pleasure spread further. 

Chris on the other hand, is in love with every sound you make and he’s determined to hear more. His teeth graze over your nipple. Your grip tightens, a louder moan escaping you. "Just like that."

His hands trail down, pulling your dress further up your thighs until the black lace covering your soaked sex is in full view. His hands stroking the underside of your thighs, teasing you further and you nearly fall apart at the seams.

"Chris," You moan, grinding up into him. Begging for him to touch you where you need him most.

"How wet are you, pretty girl?" He coos, his hand slides up between your legs. You gasp and he groans when his fingers trace over the lace of your panties. "Fuck, you're soaked."

"Please," You beg, bucking against his hand. "You’re driving me crazy." His thumb circles over your clit and your hips rock in time with his movements. You're already so close, and he's barely touched you.

His tongue darts out to lick over your neglected nipple. You shudder, your nails dig into his shoulders and he hisses at the sweet sting.

"I want you," you plead, trailing a hand down the expanse of his back. He continues his ministrations, kissing and nipping at your sensitive bud while his fingers work smooth circles over your clit. 

Your legs are practically shaking with desire but your needy whimpers are nothing compared to all that Chris is holding back while he strokes himself on his knees in front of you. You’ve hardly noticed that his hard cock is in his hand, leaking and angry red at the tip but that’s only because he’s swallowing every moan that he possibly can just so that he can hear you clearly. He wants to remember this.  

"Chris," you moan, grinding up against his touch. He pulls back, letting your nipple go with a faint pop.

"What is it, love?" His face is twisted in pleasure as he pants, trying desperately to keep himself in check.

"I need you," You whine, grabbing and rubbing over his bare chest until you grab hold of one of his chains.

"Tell me what you want." He wants to hear you say it. He needs to.

"Fuck me." You breathe, your cheeks flushed. "Please."

Chris doesn't need any further encouragement. In a swift motion, he's standing and lifting you up again. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss and you melt against him.

He turns around and sits down with you straddling him. His bare cock rests against the soaked lace of your panties and he can’t help but to make a sound that he didn’t know was possible. 

His hands grip your hips, digging in like you're the only thing grounding him to reality. "You're sure about this?" 

He asks, his voice low and rough. You nod, reaching between you to move your panties to the side and sit your bare cunt over his length. He hisses, his breath catching in his throat "Oh, fuck." His head falls back against the sofa.

"Let me ride you," You whisper, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his neck. Chris’ face is red, blushed crazy with desperate desire and restraint. You lift up and pump his cock, spreading your dripping slick and getting him nice and wet before you sink down. 

You two are a splitting image of each other. Faces twisted in pleasure, fingers digging into the other and choked moans spilling over your kiss swollen lips. 

"Fuck, you're so wet." He groans, holding his breath just to make sure he doesn’t bust too fast. "So tight."

“You’re fucking big. Oh god.” Your head falls back, eyes shut tight as you take in the stretch of him. 

Chris hisses, his hips instinctively bucking up into you. "Shit, sorry. Are you okay?" 

He holds still, his hands massaging the swell of your ass. You nod, adjusting to his size. "Yeah, just please move. Don’t stop." 

You're impatient, rocking your hips against him. Chris is quick to give in, rocking his hips up slowly until he loses it and starts snapping his hips up into yours. He drives his cock deep and hard into your fluttering cunt and you clench around him wildly, fucking down onto him like he’s the last man you’ll ever touch. 

You can feel every inch of him, his length dragging along your walls and hitting every spot inside you. It's like the two of you are a perfect fit. Chris' hands roam over your body, mapping every inch of exposed skin. 

"So fucking beautiful," he mutters, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he watches the way your tits bounce in his face. "Look at you, taking me so well." He holds your hips still, keeping you in place while he fucks his thick length up into you. You cling to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he fucks into you. 

Chris' eyes flutter shut, a string of curses falling from his lips. His fingers dig into your hips with each bounce of you on his cock. 

"Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?" He grunts and you clench, driving him closer to the edge. “Is that what you thought about?”

The sounds coming from the both of you are filthy. Pornographic in nature and incessant. 

"Y-yes," you manage to gasp, your fingers digging into the muscles of his chest, surely leaving marks to remember you by. "Just like that. Oh, oh fuck, Chris. You're gonna make me cum." 

Your words send him reeling, his thrusts faltering slightly. "Do it, baby," he rasps, his eyes burning into yours. "Cum all over my cock." 

The coil in your belly snaps, his name spilling from your lips as you cum. Your release has his head spinning. The tight squeeze of your cunt and the sounds he has vibrating from your chest drag him closer to his own blinding release. He holds back, fucking you through your high with a sloppy rhythm. 

"Fuck, I'm close." You pry his grip from your hips and lift up off of him, sinking down to your knees. You look prettier than Chris can handle, on your knees with his fur coat pooling around you. Your lips wrap around his throbbing cock and he moans, his hand finding purchase in your hair immediately.

"Shit, yes, oh god." He breathes, his hips rocking forward. "So good, jus’ like that." A deep, guttural moan escapes his lips and his hips stutter. "Fuck, oh fuck." 

His eyes shut tight as you bury his cock deep in your throat, swallowing around him and milking his chest dry of every last ounce of oxygen he possessed.

You hum, reaching down between your legs and rubbing your throbbing pussy while he makes such pretty sounds above you.

"’M gonna cum," He groans, his accent thick and his grip on your hair tightening. You keep your pace, bringing your hand up to stroke what can’t fit into your mouth as you suck and lick him like you know everything that drives him crazy - because somehow, you do.

His jaw clenches, his abs tense and the muscles in his neck strain and suddenly you wish that you were still on top of him, letting him fill you full of his sticky seed but that will have to wait until next time. 

Chris tenses above you, a loud groan erupting from him as the first spurt of hot cum falls against your tongue. 

"Fuck, oh, fuck. Just like that, baby. ‘M cumming for you, take it all." He shudders, rambling as his body jerks as he spills himself down your throat. You swallow him greedily, his sweet taste lingering on your tongue. 

Chris' breathing is heavy, his chest rises and falls rapidly while he watches you. You pull up off of him, kissing the head of his twitching dick while his heart races.

You smile at him, "Good?" You ask, wiping the corners of your mouth. “Are you kidding me?” Chris huffs out a breathy laugh. "So fucking good." 

"Come here," He mumbles, lifting you up and bringing you to his lap. His coat drags behind you and he runs his hands up under the furry fabric and over your back. “You look so good in this.”

He fixes your dress, bringing it up to cover your exposed chest and smoothes the fabric over your thighs. “Do you say that to every girl you let borrow your clothes?”

Chris smiles, shaking his head and running his greedy hands up your thighs. 

“You're the only girl I’ve ever let wear something of mine. And I’ll keep it that way under one condition.” You smile, resting your own greedy hands over his chest and leaning into him. 

“What would that be?” He cups your cheek bringing you in for a soft kiss, much softer than what’s in his job description. In his defense, he’s never felt this much chemistry with any other lady who’s walked through the front door of this club.

“Come back soon, okay?” He smiles against your lips and kisses you again, whispering this time. “And I’ll make sure that you’re the only one wearing my clothes both inside and outside of the club.”

You mirror his smile, kissing his lips with a tenderness you didn’t foresee when you first met him. 

“Deal.”

Thank You For Reading! 💕

Divider credit to @bunnysrph

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

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[strwberri-milk]

hi hiii :D

i was hoping you’d take in this request of the lads men at reader’s graduation ceremony/party after she completes a hard degree she’s been studying for all this time :3

like what would the boys reaction be as they see her name being called out to get her degree on stage, and their interaction after the ceremony is over :D pretty pleaseeee

i’m gonna use this as motivation to study hard for my upcoming exam week hahaha

thank you take care <333

ughh tbh i skipped my graduation so i just made stuff up LMAO also i didnt define a degree bc hard degree is v v subjective lolol

He would clear his entire schedule to be there with you. It doesn't matter what he's doing that day - it doesn't matter. You can argue with him all you want, especially if he has an event that comes up you perceive as being more important. Rafayel and Sylus basically make up their own schedules so they've made sure that nothing is planned. Zayne and Xavier have booked the day off months in advance, knowing that they wanted absolutely nothing to get in the way.

He's also got his camera - phone or DSLR in Rafayel's case - to take a bunch of photos. He's going to commemorate this special occasion of course and is more than happy to either stage some photos, or just take dozens of photos of you. He also got a special bouquet just for you.

You can see Zayne in the audience clapping and smiling at you proudly. He doesn't do super big displays of affection, especially since this is an event for you, not him. When you walk the stage he's taking a bunch of photos, both for your reference and his.

He gives you the flowers he bought out to the event, passersby looking a little jealously at how extravagant and luscious they look. You don't notice at all considering all you can focus entirely on his little speeches about how proud he is of you.

Xavier's incredibly excited to be present at your graduation. He's smiling and clapping for you, also not a big cheerer but the happiness in his eyes is pretty obvious. When you finally step off of the stage he opens his arms to you, letting you run at him and hugging you tightly. His bouquet for you is super cute, a slight mess but still adorable. He put together a bouquet of treats - whatever it is you may like - as well as little plush or trinkets that you adore. It's not traditional but the grin you give him is more than worth it.

Rafayel's your personal photographer, nobody questioning the guy with the giant camera as he comes closer to the stage. You're a little embarrassed by how happy he is but you also can see that he's trying to keep things lowkey as much as possible. He showers you in affection once you step off the stage, taking you back to his car where he's got a giant bouquet hiding in the trunk. You stare at it, wide mouth and slack jawed as he just shrugs it off, telling you it's still in there because he couldn't carry it to the auditorium without destroying it.

Sylus sits in the audience, absolutely bored until your name is called. As soon as he hears the first syllable he brings his fingers to his mouth, letting out a sharp whistle that startles everyone, including you. He heard other people doing it and he wanted to outshine them all for the love of his life. His bouquet is very fancy and he's decided not to take it out in public just in case, presenting you with a lavish bouquet of flowers made of hundred dollar bills.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hold My Hand, Part 2

TFW 2.0 & Winchester!sister

Requested by @casmustdiee and Anonymous

Synopsis: Jack tries to get you used to being back in the bunker, but things keep going wrong.

Warnings: angst, some torture, continuity errors, only half proofread

A/N: guys I’m still alive!

“You want anything to eat?”

You had been slowly emerging more and more from within yourself after the boys had brought you back from Asmodeus. Still, you rejected Dean’s offer of food with a tiny shake of your head.

“I’ll take a sandwich,” Jack piped up, and Dean was about to tell him to make his own sandwich when Jack gave him a hard stare. Dean had no clue what the look meant, but given that Jack had been the one to get you out of your room and talking, Dean had no choice but to trust that the kid knew what he was doing around you. So Dean made the sandwich, and he watched as Jack cut it in half, eating one half before very deliberately pushing the plate away—towards you—as if he didn’t want it anymore.

Dean caught on right away.

“What, you’re just gonna let that go to waste?” Dean asked.

Jack shrugged. “You can have it.”

Dean shook his head. “Your taste in sandwiches is crap, you and Y/N are the only ones I know that actually consider peanut butter and banana a delicacy.”

“They’re great, right Y/N?” Jack asked, earning a nod from you.

“Whatever.” Dean through his hands up. “I’m gonna make me a real sandwich.” He purposefully turned his back to you, not wanting you to feel stared at.

“I’m gonna go find Sam,” Jack said. “He might need help with research.” He hopped off his chair and left the room, leaving you almost alone with your half a sandwich.

By the time Dean had finished making his food and turned around, Jack’s sandwich was completely gone, and you looked a little brighter than you had a minute ago.

…

It was Jack’s turn to need help adjusting, and you were there every step of the way—or at least you tried to be. It was hard, since you were also trying to make sure Sam was ok after Michael disappeared, taking Dean with him.

“I thought you were training with Bobby,” you said when Jack all but stumbled into the kitchen.

“I was,” he huffed. “I just…I can’t seem to get it right. It was all so much easier with my powers.” Jack shook his head. “I just feel useless.”

“I know what you mean.” You swallowed.

“What?” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not useless.”

“Lately I am.” When Jack continued to stare at you with that questioning gaze, you seemed to freeze up, unable to finish your thought.

Jack stepped closer to you, taking your hand in his own and giving you a bright smile.

“You’re not useless,” he said again.

You seemed to draw strength from his hand in yours.

“Dean’s always been there for me,” you began. “Always. For anything I’ve ever needed. And now…now he’s being dragged around by some archangel, and I feel like I can’t do anything to help him.”

“It doesn’t just fall on you,” Jack said. “We’re all going to find him. I just know it.”

…

“He’s gonna be ok, right?”

Your brothers couldn’t even look at you as you watched Rowena pack up her bag. You’d finally gotten Dean back, only for it to seem like you were now losing Jack.

“There’s nothing I can do.” Rowena glanced at you for a second before turning away. “I’m sorry.”

“But—but we have to do something—“ you started to follow Rowena as she turned to the door, but Sam stepped in your way. “We can’t let Jack die!” You tried to move around Sam, but he grabbed hold of your arms.

“I’ll talk to Rowena. I think you should stay with Jack,” he said.

A fit of coughing from Jack caught your attention, and you relented, going quickly to his side.

“You’re gonna be ok,” you promised. “We’re gonna fix you.”

Jack smiled at you and squeezed your hand, but he didn’t speak.

Dean followed Sam outside, unable to bear the scene any longer.

…

They couldn’t get you to leave Jack’s side. He’d been dead for hours, but you still wouldn’t leave.

Dean had seen you like this before—you’d been the exact same way when you were only three years old, and Sam had died for the first time.

Sam had seen it too, only a few short years ago, when Dean had died. He’d had to all but drag you away from the body.

“Hey, kid,” Dean began. You didn’t even look at him. “Kid, maybe you should—“

“I’m not leaving him alone.” Your voice was firm, and Dean noticed that your grip on Jack’s cold hand tightened. “He doesn’t like to be alone. I’m not leaving him alone.”

“Sweetheart—“

“Why couldn’t I—“ your voice caught. “Why couldn’t I save him? He needed me, and I couldn’t save him.”

Dean swallowed. “You…we did the best we could, kid.”

“But it wasn’t enough!” You finally tore your gaze away from your dead friend, and Dean’s heart broke all over again at the look in your eyes. “Jack saved me, and I let him die.”

“Hey.” Dean shook his head. “This is not your—“

“Dean.” Cas stepped into the room. “Sam just left. I don’t know why, but—“

“What?” Dean jumped to his feet. “We need to find him.”

He left with Cas on his heels. You could hear Dean arguing with him the whole way out of the bunker, but you still didn’t move.

“Jack—“ you took a deep breath, squeezing Jack’s hand and wishing he would squeeze back. “Jack, I just…I miss you. And I’m so sorry, and…and I just want you to come back, ok?

“I just want you to come back.”

…

You got your wish, even if it wasn’t in the way you expected. Jack was back, but he didn’t dare use his power at the risk of losing his soul.

You didn’t care. Power or no, Jack was your best friend. But things never stayed good for long. You guys still had to fight Michael.

And it wasn’t looking good.

“If I just had my powers, I could beat him. If I could use them—“

“Jack, if you use them you lose your soul.” You shook your head. “I just got you back. And I’ve seen what losing a soul does to people. I can’t go through that again. We don’t need you to fight all our battles, Jack.” You reached out and grabbed his hand. “We’re just glad you’re here with us again.”

Jack squeezed your hand, a fleeting smile crossing his face.

“Me too.”

…

“When I gave up Dean, you didn’t think to question why?”

Jack’s hand was firmly in yours, as if he knew your intentions. You’d just watched Dean go from your big brother back into the archangel that was stealing his body, and Jack knew you wouldn’t take it well. He was right. All you wanted to do was go to him, to shake him around until Dean came back, but Jack wouldn’t let go of your arm.

Michael and Sam were arguing, but Jack ignored them as he leaned forward and whispered in your ear.

“We’ll get Dean back,” he promised. “Just be patient.” Jack’s hand squeezed yours, and it felt like he was dragging you back down to earth and clearing your head from the clouds.

…

The fight was over quickly, although it left all of you bruised. But at least Michael was now in the angel cuffs and back in the bunker. He was surprisingly calm about being captured, but that didn’t keep him from threatening anyone near him.

It didn’t help that monsters would be banging down the door any minute, thanks to Michael’s control over them.

“I’ll watch him,” you told your brother. “You guys secure the bunker.”

“Be careful,” Sam said.

“With the chained up archangel?” You tried to look relaxed. “C’mon Sam, I’ve got the easy job here.”

It would’ve been easier if the archangel wasn’t wearing your brother.

…

“So they send their weakest link to watch the archangel.” Michael was doing your best to faze you, so you did your best to ignore him. “I think I should feel insulted.”

“And you think I care why?” You cursed the subtle way your voice shook, and hoped that Michael couldn’t hear it.

“If Dean was…here…I’m sure it would worry him.” Michael leaned forward as if sharing a secret. “He doesn’t think you’re a very good hunter.”

“And I should listen to you?” You scoffed, but you doubted your voice was as steady as you wanted it.

“Well, I am in Dean’s head. And he doesn’t think you can do it, he never did. After all, it’s not like you’re a real Winchester anyway.”

“Dean thinks that?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it.

A smile crept its way onto Michael’s lips, and he seemed suddenly more interested in you.

“What did you expect him to think? You’re not Mary’s daughter, you’re not his real sister. You’re not like Sam to him, you never have been.”

“I—“ your voice caught in your throat. You wanted to tell Michael that it wasn’t true. You wanted to say “screw you,” you wanted to say “Dean would never,” but your voice wouldn’t work.

“Hey!” Sam’s voice startled you, and his hand was suddenly on your shoulder. “That’s enough,” he barked at Michael. “Hey.” He looked back at you, his voice softening. “Why don’t you go hang out with Jack, I’ve got him for now.”

“Actually, that won’t be necessary,” Michael spoke up. “The plan has changed, and she’ll be going with me.”

“Excuse me?” Sam glared at Michael, unfazed. That is, he was unfazed…

Until Michael stood, dropping the angel cuffs to the ground.

“The rest of you I’ll leave to my friends outside.” Michael threw his hand out, sending Sam flying away from you. “But the girl…” Michael had a hold of your arm before you could back away. “You won’t have to worry about her anymore.”

…

In the blink of an eye, you had been taken from your home; you and Michael weren’t in the bunker anymore. You’d returned to the office building that he’d turned into his personal headquarters, only this time there were half a dozen monsters in the main room. You found yourself leaning away from them, until you realized that that meant you were leaning towards Michael. It was hard to see monsters and not natural gravitate towards Dean.

This isn’t Dean, you told yourself. And you can’t forget that for even a second.

“Sir.” A werewolf stepped closer to Michael. “I thought you were—“

“Just a little change in plans,” Michael said. “Your werewolves are still locked onto my previous location?”

“Yes sir,” he said. “They should be at the bunker any minute.”

“Good.” Michael nodded. “You may go. And take the rest of these—“ he gestured at the other monsters in the room “—with you. I have some things I need to take care of in here. Alone.”

“Is that a Winchester?” Another of the monsters was eyeing you hungrily. “Did you bring us a little snack?” He started to approach, but a single glare from Michael stopped him in his tracks.

“If I wanted you to eat her, I would’ve told you that. She’s mine, understand?” Once the monster nodded, Michael smiled sardonically. “Good. Now go.”

The monsters cleared out quickly, and soon you were left alone with the archangel that taunted you with your big brother’s face.

“What am I doing here?” You tried to force your voice to come out strong, but the self-satisfied smirk that came across Michael’s face as he looked down at you said that you’d done a horrible job at that.

“You know what I’m doing here, right?” Michael asked. You didn’t answer—you could tell it was a rhetorical question—but the pleased look in Michael’s eyes at your silence had you wishing you’d said something sarcastic, like Dean would have. “I’m building a better world,” Michael continued. “Humans have had their time in the sun, but they’ve never amounted to anything. It’s time they got knocked of their pedestal. That’s why I’m having my monsters kill and turn them.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you kept me alive,” you argued. Michael’s eyes flashed in anger at your interruption, but he continued anyway.

“You’re different than your brothers, and from the rest of those fools in the bunker. Jack is too powerful to bother with, and Cas and your brothers…they’re too stubborn. But you…you���re young. Moldable. I have a plan to make this world my own, with the monsters on top. But humans…I’m keeping a few alive. Some for the monsters to feed on. And some…some who I think could be useful to me. You could be useful, with some…modifications.”

“What modifi—“

Michael’s hand shot out and closed around your throat, and before you even knew it was there you felt your breath stop.

“The first improvement I plan to make is to shut. You. Up. You need to learn your place here.” The hand around your throat was pushing down, and you felt yourself fall to your knees under the pressure. “Your life is a privilege, not a right.” The vision of Michael above you was starting to go fuzzy, but you could still make out the coldness in his eyes. “And privileges can be taken away. Do you understand me?”

You nodded mutely, and the pressure on your throat disappeared.

“You are just an example of what all humans will be. Well, all the ones I allow to live. You exist to serve those greater than you. You exist to serve me.”

“My brothers—“ Michael glared at you, but he didn’t stop you, so you continued. “My brothers will stop you. And Cas and Jack, all of them, they can stop you.”

Michael smiled patiently. Mockingly.

“You don’t really believe that,” he said. “You know your little family back in the bunker is as good as dead. And Dean—“ Michael tapped his forehead “—is tucked away quietly. I have him under control.”

“They’re stronger than you think,” you snapped.

Michael smirked and patted your head. “That’s enough out of you.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but when you tried to speak it felt like your lungs caught on fire. You curled in on yourself, rubbing at your chest while the pain slowly faded.

“As I told you,” Michael began. “You exist to serve me. If you use your abilities in a way I don’t like, I can take them away. And I will make it hurt. Every. Time.”

You stared up at Michael, until suddenly your eyes started to sting.

“Don’t look at me,” Michael snapped. “Keep your eyes down.”

You dropped your eyes down and whimpered as the pain slowly faded away, but Michael had already turned his attention to the opening door.

“Sir.” A vampire was standing in the doorway. “The bunker’s fortifications are stronger than we thought. It may take days to get through.”

Michael gritted his teeth. “Fine. Just get it done.”

Michael noticed the monster staring at you. “I see you’ve noticed my girl. This is how all humans who aren’t killed or turned should behave. Ever silent, ever obedient. Understand?”

The vampire licked his lips.

“Would you mind if I had a taste?” He stepped closer to you. “After all, a Winchester—“

“Yes, I would mind,” Michael snapped. “If you want a human, go get your own. I’ve given you the world as your oyster. But the girl is mine. Now leave me.”

You kept your eyes glued to the floor as the door swung shut. You felt the toe of Michael’s boot push at your chin, tilting your head up and in Michael’s direction.

“You should be thanking me. It would be so easy for me to let them rip you to shreds.” Michael’s eyes flashed blue, and you felt your throat tighten up. “What do you say?”

“Thank…you…” you gasped, and Michael released his magic hold on your throat.

“You’re a fast learner,” he commended. “Keep it that way, and this will be a lot less painful for you.” Michael twisted his hand, and you felt as though your ribs were twisting around and stabbing your lungs, your heart, everything. “But it can’t be completely painless. If you want a good omelet, you have to crack a few eggs. And I’ve been looking forward to breaking you.”

…

You never thought that you’d associate the sight of your big brother with pain. It took less than two days with Michael to change that.

You didn’t know if your family was still alive. You didn’t know if you’d ever see them again. You didn’t even know if Dean was still around in Michael’s head, or if he could see what was happening to you. All you knew now was pain.

“What’s the situation at the bunker?” Michael was talking to one of his many monsters, but you didn’t dare look up; not even at the mention of your family. “Are they dead yet?”

“I’m afraid not sir. But my people have told me that they’re about to break through the door now that they’ve gotten through all the warding.”

“Good. Tell them to wait until I get there.” You felt Michael’s grace tugging at your neck—your cue to look at him. When you did, he grinned at you, flashing all thirty-two pearly white teeth in a way that Dean never would have. “You’re going to come with me to watch the show,” Michael said. “And then you’ll understand just how hopeless you really are.”

…

“Y/N!” Sam’s voice was the first thing you heard when the bunker door slammed shut behind you and Michael; he wanted to do the killing himself now that the monsters had broken in. It took every ounce of strength you had not to look up and run to your big brother. Instead, you stayed obediently by Michael’s side, your eyes trained on the back of his shoes.

“Oh, she’s mine now,” Michael chuckled. “But I’m a moment it won’t matter to any of you.”

“You had your chance to kill us.” Jack stepped suddenly out from the side hallway, effectively trapping Michael between him and Sam. “And you left. Why?”

“I wanted to get things settled with this sweet little sister of yours before the massacre began,” Michael said, a cocky smirk twisting his lips. “No need for her to get killed when she’s making such a good little slave.”

“Leave her alone!” Jack’s eyes flashed yellow as he took a step toward Michael.

“Jack don’t!” Sam shook his head, and Jack stopped.

“It doesn’t matter what you do at this point,” Michael said. “I told you the story ended with your deaths, and I meant it. You can’t stop me.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Sam’s face. “Don’t be so sure about that.”

You hit the ground hard when Jack tackled you out of the way. His place was immediately taken by Castiel, who rushed Michael. Michael, taken aback, rose his hands to fight Cas a split second too late. Cas grabbed hold of Michael’s wrist and slapped the angel cuffs on him.

“They’ve been re-warded,” Sam piped in. “They’re stronger than they’ve ever been. Oh, and that warding that your monsters thought they got through? Cas booted it up again the minute you stepped inside. Your cavalry isn’t coming. At least, not in time.”

Michael scoffed, “In time for what? You still have no way to kill me, or stop me.”

“Actually we do,” Cas said. “We’re gonna get inside your head, and Dean’s gonna kick you out.”

…

“We’re gonna get Dean back,” Sam tried to tell you as Cas started to hook Michael up to one of the Men of Letters’ machines, but you didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the ground.

You could practically feel Michael’s eyes boring into you, reminding you to do as you were told and keep quiet. You didn’t think he could do anything with the angel cuffs on, but you’d learned to never underestimate Michael’s ability to punish you.

And you’d learned to never disobey him.

Sam turned his attention back to Michael—he could only fight one battle at a time, and getting Dean back took precedence for now—but Cas’s attention was suddenly on you. He walked up to you, leaning down in a failed attempt to meet your eye.

“Are you alright little one?” He asked. No answer. “You’re safe now, he can’t use his powers with the cuffs on.” Nothing. Cas sighed. “As soon as we get Dean back, we’re gonna help you, ok? You won’t have to be scared anymore.” When you still didn’t reply, Cas hesitantly turned his back on you to return to Sam and Dean.

“Me and Cas are going in after him,” Sam said. “Jack, we need you to stay here in case those monsters come in. And—“ Sam glanced at you, but you barely seemed to register anything going on in the room. “And make sure she stays safe, understand?”

“Of course. I won’t let anything happen to her…to any of you,” Jack insisted.

…

“Y/N?” Jack waited until he was sure Michael was safely in his own mind with Sam and Cas before he turned his attention to you. “Y/N, you can hear me right?”

You didn’t nod, exactly, but your head noticeably twitched up, so Jack took that as a good sign.

“Ok, ok good. I just wanna make sure you know that you’re safe. Michael isn’t gonna hurt you ever again, ok? Sam and Cas have this plan—they’re gonna talk to Dean up there in his head, and he’s gonna kick Michael out. He’ll be back to regular Dean, just like I said. We’re gonna get him back, Y/N. I promise.” Jack reached forward and wrapped his hand around yours. Your hand was limp in his, your fingers unmoving.

Jack sighed. “I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be, I promise. Remember I helped you after Asmodeus hurt you? I just want to help you again. I want you to feel safe again.”

Jack waited, his breath stagnant as he watched you.

Nothing. Not a hint of movement in your eyes, not a twitch from the limp hand that was still resting in Jack’s. It was like you weren’t even in there.

“I don’t care how long it takes,” Jack said. “I’m gonna help you come back.”

…

“I’ve got him.”

It was Michael’s voice, but it didn’t sound like Michael anymore. Could it be…

“Sammy, I’ve got him. He’s secure, he’s not going anywhere.” Dean. It was Dean. “Y/N?” The sound of that voice calling your name stopped your breath, even though you were almost sure it was your big brother now.

“Hey, wait—“ you heard the scuffling of feet and the sound of Sam’s voice. “Dean, don’t. Michael—he took her. He hurt her. I don’t really know how, or what happened, but…but just go slow with her.”

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice was gentle as he slowly stepped closer to you. “Y/N, it’s Dean. Would you look at me, please?”

This finally got a reaction. You tilted your chin up and lifted your eyes to Dean, but you still didn’t move or speak.

“Hey.” A relieved smile broke out on Dean’s face—at least he knew you were listening now. “Hey kiddo. You doin ok?”

The longer you stared at Dean, the more shallow your breathing became. Dean was just reaching for you, hoping to calm you down, when you suddenly turned on your heel and made a dash for your room.

“Y/N!” Sam called after you. The slam of your door was his answer.

…

You wouldn’t answer the door for anyone, even Jack.

“I’m gonna go in there,” Dean decided.

“Dean, maybe she just needs space,” Sam suggested.

“She’s been in there all day without a word.” Dean shook his head. “I’ve gotta at least check on her.”

‘’Maybe I should try,” Jack suggested.

“I’m doing this alone.” Dean’s voice didn’t leave much room for argument, but Jack tried anyway.

“You still don’t trust me around her?” Jack asked.

“It’s not about that,” Dean huffed. “I’m the one who did this, so I’m the one who needs to fix it.”

“Dean, it wasn’t your—“ Cas’s protests stopped when Dean held up a hand.

“It doesn’t matter. She still sees him every time she looks at me. I need to fix this.”

Sam was the first to relent, and he managed to get Jack and Cas to leave with him to give you and Dean some space.

“Kiddo?” Dean knocked softly, knowing you wouldn’t answer. He was right. “Kiddo, if you don’t say anything I’m just gonna open the door. You ok in there?” After a prolonged silence, Dean went on. “Ok, I’m coming in.” He twisted the handle, glad it wasn’t locked, and slipped through the door.

You were sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, your knees tucked up against your chest. Your whole body stiffened when Dean stepped into the room, but other than that there was no indication that you’d seen him enter; you didn’t look at him, you didn’t move.

“Hey,” Dean greeted. He sat next to you, and you didn’t react. “Would you look at me?”

Your eyes met Dean’s, and something scratched at the back of his mind.

“Are you just gonna do what I tell you to do?” Dean swallowed. “Is…is that what Michael made you do?” You stayed silent, so Dean prompted, “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Kid, you don’t have to do that. I’m not Michael, you know that right?”

“I…” your voice faltered. You took a deep breath. “I know. I’ll—I’m trying.”

“I never wanted him to hurt you,” Dean sighed. “I never meant for—“

“It’s not your fault, De,” you interrupted. “You’re not Michael, and…and nothing he said or did meant anything about you.”

“Ok, I got it.” Dean put his hand on your shoulder. “Now you gotta remember that, too, and stop being so freaked around me. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I told you, I’ll try…Dean?”

“Yeah kid?”

“Are you sure he can’t get out?”

When he saw you shaking, Dean reached out and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m sure. I’m never gonna let that guy hurt you again, ok? Never.”

You finally relaxed in your big brother’s arms.

“Ok.”

“Good. Now let’s go bother Sam and the angel gang.”

You laughed.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[summikomi]

I like the one where y/n is fascinated with Sukuna’s tummy 😂 I just think it’s so cute. Could I request an instance where she gives it some attention.

Like usually y/n will kiss Sukunas face and ignores his stomach but one day she finally notices his tummy mouth pouting because it never gets attention so she asks Sukuna before she starts spoiling his tummy mouth with kisses, sweet words and he blushes around his abs and maybe even purrs and coos at her doting. Sukuna is just stunned by the whole thing because none of his previous consorts/concubines would ever go near his tummy (fear of being bitten/esten) but yeah! That’s my idea 🥰🥰🌷🌷🌷

this is so cute i can't believe i took so long to get to it lolol here u go darling <3 it got totally away from me and also got mildy suggestive at the end, so cw for that!!

".. you're doing this again?" sukuna huffs exasperatedly, playing up his distaste as always, but you're not letting it get to you. with gentle hands you tenderly run your fingers over the lines of his waist, admiring the defined muscle that surrounds that mouth on his stomach. you can see he's scowling over your head, but the blush dusting his prominent cheekbones makes it hard to take his displeasure seriously.

-

you hadn't intended to make a habit of it when it began, but you and sukuna had a schedule. at the end of every week, you'd both settle into his massive bed together, and you would make an evening of worshipping him like he deserved. his large, powerful form would always turn to putty in your hands, basically purring in your hold by the time both you started to get tired. you knew he loved the attention, but there was a part of him you'd been neglecting without noticing.

it came to a head one night, while you were (totally innocently) running your hands over his chest, and you looked down to see the lips on his stomach.. pouting? the view was so surreal that your hands stopped, and sukuna didn't take long to notice and complain.

"mrrh?" he intonated, something like a confused cat, and although it was cute you were too entranced by the view to pay it much mind.

"who said you could stop?" a deep voice murmured, but it was less intimidating with the slightly dazed look on his face and the pout on his tummy.

"oh!" you gasped softly, turning to look up at him again, and resisted the urge to snicker at the almost matching pout he had on the lips of his face, "sorry, it's just, hm.."

with a cautious touch (more because you didn't know if he'd like it, rather than if he would allow it - sukuna liked to act tough, but he'd let you do basically anything) you reached out and splayed your fingers over his stomach, and then gently ran them over the lips there. it was surprisingly soft, but it felt more like the skin of his torso than the one of his lips, and you marveled at the curiosities of his anatomy silently.

"..what..?" his voice was gruff, and if you didn't know him better you might think he was mad - but he was definitely flustered.

"do you like being touched here?" you asked curiously, and he frowned at the question as if you'd just personally insulted him.

rather than answering upfront, because that would obviously be too easy, sukuna answered like this:

"do whatever you want."

-

do whatever you want, you did. if he wanted you to stop it would be more than in his power anyways, so you continued on your quest to spoil that neglected tummy mouth, and sukuna continued to pretend he didn't like it. just as he was today.

a thought popped into your head. hmm.

without much thought, you leaned in and pressed your lips over the ones on his stomach, and giggled softly over the skin when it made him jolt.

"what," sukuna said, a big hand flying over the back of your neck to scruff you like a cat, "are you doing now?"

"kissing you, silly." his grasp was too gentle to restrain you, so you leaned forward and pressed another kiss to the right corner of the mouth, delighting in the way his muscles tensed under you. he was very flustered, indeed.

it was a rare treat to make sukuna speechless, and you enjoyed every moment as you placed kiss after kiss over his stomach, going over his abs and the marks on his skin, including rough scars and a lost freckle or two. sukuna was so cute. not that you would ever tell him that - unless you wanted to see the world burn.

"you can cease this already–" he complained, but before he could finish a loud sound interrupted his speech - and your actions.

for a moment you almost thought his stomach was growling, but then the realization hit you like a brick to the head.

"sukuna," you enunciated, utter delight coating your words in honey, "are you purring right now?"

"it's not me, it's that stupid thing." he tried to defend himself, but his ears were matching the pink of his hair, and you laughed loud enough that you were sure most of the servants around the estate would hear.

"so it has a mind of its own now?"

"shut up," he barked without any bite before pulling you into his arms, one pair coming under your thighs to pull you close and the other wrapping around your shoulders and waist, fully surrounding you.

"i'll find a spot that makes you purr now. i hope you're ready."

"huh? wait, sukuna–"

..you learned a few lessons about your own body that day too.

[takes1]

heyy I must tell you all those tsukishima fics were so good😭 i used to literally log on to tumblr everyday just becausd of yoy😭 can I request a mattsun x oblivious reader?? Where he has tried multiple times to tell her thwt he likes her but something or the other happens and he can't and also thr reader has absolutely no idea that he likes her. Maybe in thr end he can be like do you not like me and stuff snd then she is so confused becsue she did not think thwt he'd like her back snd lmao they go out later

mattsun x oblivious!reader

the sheer quantity of tsukki lovers was a shock when i first started posting that old series lemme tell you. i rlly appreciate that!!

warnings. sfw, fluff

details. libero!reader / girls team!reader / mattsun fluff / aoba johsai fluff / oblivious!reader / platonic?cuddling / mattsun is always warm / giving you his jacket trope / rbf!mattsun / thinking he hates you trope / pda / 2k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN

There was only so much to be done about the bitter cold tonight. The Aoba Johsai teams had their joint biyearly dinner, but thanks to a last-minute close for renovation at your usual spot, you and at least fifteen others were stuck waiting for a reservation outside on the town square.

"Fuck-k!" Oikawa shuddered loudly, teeth chattering as he stepped out from the restaurant you were all barred from.

Somebody whined, "I just wanna sit down!"

Iwa trailed close behind, steam practically coming off of his head as he stared down at his phone. He kept his foot in the door for an older couple, sparing a passive-aggressive look at how easily they were seated.

"It'll be another 20 minutes at least," You overheard him, quiet but frothing with frustration, to your own team captain.

Only a few were properly dressed for the weather outside. It was getting darker fast, and the wind was picking up.

You were able to catch a glimpse of his phone screen. He had the estimated wait time from the restaurant's website; 5 groups were before you, but they were nowhere to be seen.

A harsh wind howled through the street and inspired you to jump behind the nearest body. You and the other liberos were lucky to have your faces protected by the gathered group of shoulders and chests, but that's where your blessings ended. Your cardigan could've been made of tissue paper, how thin it was.

The wind settled and you glanced to see who you had nestled up to- you jumped back with a muffled yelp. It went ignored because of the symphony of complaints, curses to the weather.

Matsukawa was glowering down at you. God, was he warm, but he was so mean.

He was the most unsettling member of the guys' team by far. You got along fine with everyone else, but there was some unspoken hatred in his eyes every time you had to interact with him.

He often tried to speak with you after practice, about receiving of all things, quizzing you about your methods from the games he watched or practices he caught. You didn't like how his questions were made to make you feel stupid, so you tended to keep it short with him and run away as soon as you could.

His stare was harsh and judgmental, his frown deep and unforgiving. It gave the impression that he was tearing you apart in his mind.

"Awww, (Y/n)," Your captain, whom you had backed into, put her arms around you at once.

She didn't offer as much heat as him, but it helped to make you feel safer, and wanted. You turned and pressed your face against her chest as she pulled her jacket around the both of you.

Most of the girls were huddled similarly, choice of attire more of an issue than the heavy-coated guys.

Matsukawa wore a thick, black work hoodie, nice thick pants, boots, and a utility jacket over that. You squinted, jealous and bitter, at how he wasn't shivering at all.

"Tw- t-twenty- minutes?" You shuddered against her, sniffling.

She hummed, her cold, dead fingers no help against your sides.

The wind was so strong that it stole your breath with every gust. Your ears were throbbing, your nose numb, even when another teammate joined the huddle.

Not only had you not dressed for the cold, but you didn't expect to be standing so much, so your heels were killing your feet. Another twenty minutes wasn't doable.

"Hey! There's some benches over here!" Somebody called from down the sidewalk and around the corner.

Those that knew it would take longer, especially in uncomfortable shoes, instantly started to migrate away from the door of the restaurant.

The benches were a little wet from the light drizzle earlier. It made most of your teammates hesitate to sit down, including you. You gave a dismal sniffle, completely exhausted from shivering, unable to get any colder or more glum. You peeled off your cardigan.

"Hey, wait wait-!"

"Noo!"

Your teammates gasped, grabbing at you, as you used it to wipe the bench dry.

You turned, offering them a seat, your ferocious shaking in direct contrast to the point you were trying to make.

"It- was-wasn't keeping me warm-- anyway," You struggled to declare.

The three of you sat down on the freezing metal. At least it was dry now. You stared, twitching hard, at the soggy ball in your numb fingers and tried to zone out.

Your eyes had been closed when someone big squeezed in next to you, at the end of the bench. It was too much energy to open them to see who it was.

But a heavy, warm, and cozy presence over you shocked you to open your eyes again.

"Put this on before you pass out," Matsukawa muttered, hands grabbing at the back of his own hoodie, too.

Your face would've felt warm if not for the conditions. It was already stinging, but it stung some more.

"Thank you," You shivered.

His lowered, studied stare at you as you struggled to put on his hoodie with numbed limbs made you feel like a dumbass. He probably thought you were an idiot.

His arm was so solid as he took his outer jacket back, to put it on over his long sleeve shirt. You quickly put up the plush hood and pulled the drawstrings, ears pounding at the relief of some heat.

Then his arm was back, around your shoulders, rubbing firm to get you warmed up faster.

"Thank you," You repeated, better now, and all you could possibly think to say.

When you glanced at him, you found him looking around. There was a protective air to him, like he was busy watching for something while he took care of you. He wore it well.

His hoodie smelled distinctly like him and you found that you did not mind it in the slightest. You were subtle, pulling it over your nose -breathing deep now that you weren't struggling to filter this icy cold air-, letting your body get wracked by his strong rubbing, your head steadied a little on the inside of his big shoulder. It slowly fell, heavier, on him as you learned to trust that he was being helpful.

The wind picked up again- this time you felt invulnerable to its brutality, but he squeezed his working arm into your waist and pulled you, shockingly easy, into his side with no space left between your bodies.

At this point, you were feeling guilty for enjoying it so much. There was no ounce of softness in his angry face to indicate he wanted to hold you. His nose crunched more at the wind, now that he had less layers to protect him. You could only assume he was just being chivalrous.

It made the remainder of the wait harder, in a different way.

"Oh," Iwa raised his brow at you as you passed him to go inside.

He didn't look at you for long, because he referred his gaze to Matsukawa and exchanged a smirk you couldn't see.

When you were all seated, nobody went to sit right next to you. The table was full except for the one seat while everyone filed in. At first, Watari pulled the chair out, but took one look at you and also said, "Ooh," before sitting elsewhere.

Matsukawa sat down without so much as a look at you.

Every guy at the table was looking at him, so you knew you were right about something. You just didn't know what, yet.

The whole evening, he was quiet and only spoke a few times when directly referred to. Otherwise, you felt the weight of his subtle, unwavering gaze anytime you mustered up the courage to contribute to the conversation at the table.

Surely he just wanted his hoodie back. He wore it so often, so it must have been how pitiful you looked outside to make him give it up like that.

Bellies full, bill paid, and a little more relaxed after a fun dinner out with friends despite his presence, you were all starting to leave to go home.

You stood still outside for a moment, sniffling but content, pulling up a route on your phone to walk back to the bus stop. It was a subtle way to wait for him to come out, so you could give him back his hoodie and brave the freezing journey back.

"You got somebody to walk you back?"

He leaned down to speak quietly, just to you. You watched his hand close the distance and rest on your shoulder. It made you stutter.

"Not- not officially."

Then he was walking you back to the bus stop, making a silent trek more difficult than it had to be if you had just gone by yourself. When you spared some meager glances at him, he had that same vibe about him- like he was preoccupied, displeased, and would be unpleasant if you tried to say anything.

It would be another five minutes for the bus.

He stood close to you, his arm against yours, because this bench was wet and you weren't going to repeat that mistake.

"Do you- uh," He rocked a little on his heels when you looked at him, "Do you not... like me?"

It was a staggering question. You held yourself, painfully aware that you were only standing because of his hoodie around you.

"Sure, I like you," You said in a stilted tone.

It wasn't enough and you knew it as it rolled off your tongue.

You cleared your throat. He looked away.

"I mean- I thought you hated me before today, so," You gave an empty laugh to help ease the tension.

"Hate you?" He turned towards you, hands in his pockets. It was the most emotion you had ever seen on his face.

Clearly, something was off. You squinted at him but only could hold it for a second, "Well, yeah, you're kinda... mean-,"

The shock on his face made you stumble over your words.

"But- uh, today you were so nice! Thank you, for your hoodie, that was very sweet-," You glanced around his face, confused, trailing off, "-of, you..."

He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, eyes closed, pained at your words. You felt astoundingly guilty, more cold than ever, in a way.

"I gave you my hoodie because I like you."

He put the hand back in his pocket, turning to face the street, watching the lamp posts with a forlorn air about him, "I've been tryin' to ask you out for months."

Your mouth hung open. You covered it, after a few seconds, with your hand.

Was that what all the looks meant? Was that seriously what he was getting at every time he spoke to you? Your face warmed- a welcome sensation.

"I... didn't know," You said simply, pressing up to his side.

It worked, thank god, and though it took him a second, he put a hefty arm around you.

"You were really that clueless?" He muttered, rubbing his warm face with his other hand.

The truth did feel pretty obvious in hindsight, but you reminded him, "You're more intimidating than you think."

In the quiet, the bus sighed around the corner.

"So... I can keep the hoodie?"

You looked up at him, excited at what you could see now as his nervousness. He pressed a hasty kiss to the top of your head as the bus rolled to a stop in front of you.

"Hell, yeah."

VIP

@integers @yuchacco

my masterlist. my request box.

[n0vazsq]

Close to me | Hector Fort x Reader

pairing . . . hector fort x gf!reader

summary . . . When someone attacks you while you're out with Hector, he doesn't think twice about defending you

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.2k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . this legit might be one of my fav fics ive ever written. anon ilysm pls dont stop with these amazing ideas

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @ann6ella ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . The streets outside the venue had become a catastrophic warzone of flashing cameras, pushing bodies, and shouting voices. The crowd surged like a tidal wave, making it nearly impossible to move.

Hector’s hand had a firm grip on yours, his fingers wrapped protectively around yours as he navigated through the swarm.

"Stay close to me," he muttered, his voice rough but steady. He pulled you tighter to his side, his broad shoulders blocking some of the relentless paparazzi who pushed in closer with every step.

The questions and shouts came fast, punctuated by the endless bursts of camera flashes.

"Hector! Look this way!"

"Who’s the girl? Is this serious?"

"Over here! Are you engaged?"

You flinched at the invasive questions, ducking slightly as someone thrust a microphone too close for comfort. Hector noticed immediately.

His hand slid from yours to your waist, his body shifting in front of yours like a shield. His dark eyes burned with irritation, his jaw clenched so tightly it could’ve cracked under the pressure.

"She’s not answering any questions," he snapped, his voice like a blade cutting through the noise. "Leave her alone!"

The crowd only grew more aggressive, sensing the tension as an opportunity to stir more drama. They surged closer, the air thick with shouts and shoves. And then, just as you thought it couldn’t get worse, you felt it; a hand grabbing your arm, pulling you back with startling force.

You gasped, stumbling as your balance wavered. The touch wasn’t rough, but it was unwelcome and jarring, panic instantly flaring in your chest.

"Hey! Let me go!" you cried out, struggling to twist free.

Hector’s reaction was immediate, instinctual, and furious. He whipped around, his eyes locking onto the man who had grabbed you. In an instant, the calm, collected Hector you knew was gone. Replaced by someone seething with protective rage.

"Get your hands off her!" he yelled, his voice louder and sharper than you’d ever heard. He stepped forward, his body bristling with barely contained anger.

The man raised his hands defensively, mumbling something about 'just trying to get her attention,' but Hector wasn’t hearing any of it.

"You think that’s okay?" Hector said roughly, his tone dark, each word laced with venom. He took another step closer, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "Touch her again, and I swear-"

"Hector!" one of his teammates called out, suddenly appearing by his side. "Hey, hey, calm down."

But Hector wasn’t calm. His eyes stayed locked on the man as though daring him to make another move. His chest heaved with the effort to restrain himself, but his fists remained balled, ready to strike if provoked.

"Don’t touch her!" Hector shouted again, his voice cutting through the chaos. He gestured toward you, his anger protective rather than violent. "She’s not a zoo animal for you to do this, and you have no right to lay a hand on her!"

His teammates rushed forward then, one of them gripping his arm while another stepped in front of him, trying to break his line of sight to the man. "Hector, come on," one of them urged. "Not here. Let it go."

"Let it go?" Hector snapped, his voice incredulous. "He grabbed her!"

The teammate tightened his grip on Hector’s arm, pulling him back slightly. "I know, but you’ve got cameras everywhere. Don’t give them more to work with. Let’s go."

"Hector, please," you managed to call out, your voice shaky and strained.

Hearing your voice snapped him out of his anger like a bucket of cold water. He turned to look at you, and his expression immediately softened, concern overtaking the fury. But the chaos didn’t relent.

Security was already stepping in to move you both, and in the confusion, Hector’s teammates began pulling him toward the side entrance while another ushered you in a different direction.

"No, wait- she’s with me!" Hector protested, his voice rising in panic as he realized they were separating you.

"It’s just for a second!" one of his teammates reassured him, though Hector’s anxious expression didn’t ease.

Your heart sank as you lost sight of him, the crowd closing in again despite the security barrier. The noise, the flashes, and the sheer weight of the moment were too much.

By the time you were inside, your legs were shaking, and your chest felt tight. You found yourself in a quiet corner of the building, but the calm of the space did little to ease your nerves.

Tears welled in your eyes as you scanned the room, desperately searching for Hector. You didn’t care about the cameras or the chaos outside. You just needed him.

The minutes stretched unbearably long, but then, finally, you saw him. Hector came rushing through the door, his eyes scanning the room with a panicked focus. The moment he spotted you, he crossed the space in seconds, his long strides urgent and hurried.

"Amor," he breathed, his voice cracking slightly as he reached you. He cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had spilled over. "Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?"

You shook your head, but your lip trembled. "I’m fine. I just…I was so scared, Hector."

His arms were around you in an instant, pulling you into his chest. "I’m so sorry," he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with guilt. "I should’ve stayed closer. I should’ve kept you with me."

You clung to him tightly, the fabric of his shirt bunched in your fists. "It’s not your fault. You were protecting me. You always do."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes filled with regret and something deeper, an unspoken promise. "I swear to you, I’ll never let anything like that happen again. I don’t care if I have to fight through a thousand crowds; I’ll protect you, always."

His teammates had followed him inside, lingering a few steps away, their expressions a mix of relief and curiosity. The entire interaction was being filmed by someone nearby, but neither of you noticed. All that mattered was him.

"You’re all I care about," Hector continued, his voice low but steady. "Nothing else matters. Not the cameras, not the headlines. Just you."

You nodded, your hands still gripping his shirt as though letting go might cause the world to collapse. "I just want to go home," you whispered.

He kissed your forehead gently, his lips lingering as he whispered, "We’ll go. Right now. I’ve got you."

He kept his arm securely around you as he led you toward a private exit, the noise of the outside world fading with each step.

But even as the chaos diminished, the cameras had already captured everything; the protective fury in Hector’s eyes, the way he held you like you were his entire world, and the soft reassurances that followed.

By morning, the internet would be flooded with clips and photos, fans and media alike praising the way he protected you so fiercely. 'Boyfriend of the Year' some would call him. Others would gush over how deeply he cared, how obvious his love for you was.

But in that moment, as the two of you slipped into the quiet sanctuary of his car, none of it mattered. Hector held your hand tightly, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin, and whispered, "I’m never letting you go again. You’re mine to protect, always."

And for the first time that night, you felt safe.

[midnightwind]

I'm making the almost kiss messier, for me (okay technically this is a few days after, but close enough) if you don't like the idea of Spite being into the Rookanis relationship, maybe don't read this lol

Summary: Spite tries to help. Things might be worse now. (just kissing and little touches, very pg, lot of yearning tho)

Word Count: 1705

She stood numbly before the pantry door, her heart in her throat. An air of guilt hung heavy around her shoulders. She had tried to give him space, busying herself by helping Taash and Bellara outside the Lighthouse. Things had felt so fragile and she was almost petrified that she had egged him into doing something he didn't want. But she wanted to visit Treviso and it felt wrong to go without at least inviting him. So she tentatively raised her hand and knocked gingerly on the door.

“Lucanis?”

There was a quiet shuffle from inside, but it was brief. She cracked the door slightly, unsure. If he was properly resting, she didn't want to ruin that. He was perched on the cot, slumped back against the wall. A cup was cradled in his lap, fingers slack. Had he fallen asleep halfway through a cup of coffee? She couldn't help the fond smile that tugged at her lips. He'd make a mess if he startled awake. She slipped silently inside, the door closing quietly behind her. With soft steps, she padded to his side and paused.

She had reasoned the intrusion with the idea of moving the cup then seeing herself out, but now that she was close she seemed to freeze. His shoulders rose with each breath, slow and peaceful. The heavy bags under his eyes were more obvious from this close and even though he was finally, finally sleeping, the exhaustion hung heavily from his features. She wanted to ghost feather touches along his jaw, card her fingers through his hair, press gentle kisses to his skin, anything to coax the stress from him. Her hand started to reach for his cheek, unbidden, before she caught herself. Grinding her teeth in frustration at the desire, she turned the motion to the cup. Her fingers had barely brushed the dish when his hand suddenly wrapped tightly around her wrist. He moved so quickly she almost screamed, her instinct to jump backwards halted only by his iron grip.

“Rook.” Her moniker curled from his mouth with Spite's low voice.

Her heart skipped a beat, wincing as the demon pulled her closer. “Hello Spite.” She smiled nervously. “Your grip hurts a little, could you… be gentler, maybe?”

Their eyes narrowed, mulling over the suggestion just long enough for her to worry he'd leave bruises on her skin. And then the pressure lightened, still firm, but measured now. “Rook is. Trespassing.”

“I…” Her mind raced to find an excuse before she sighed. “Yup. Sure am.”

A wide, toothy grin spread across their lips. “Good. We can talk.” And then he was scowling, an annoyed growl rumbling free. “Lucanis has been. Hiding. Avoiding. Won’t explain anything.”

She could feel heat rushing to her cheeks. “O-oh, I don't know if I…”

“Rook will explain.” 

It didn't sound like a request, but neither did it feel like a demand. It was more just… an expectation. An understanding that she was simply someone who would answer his questions. It left her a little dumbstruck. Explaining to the demon the intricacies of messy mortal relationships didn't thrill her, but it would be a bigger fight to try and escape. And maybe she'd get some answers herself.

“I can try.” She offered slowly. “Emotions are complicated.”

“Rook will know.” His words had more bite to them this time, grip squeezing. “You will. Stay close. Need to show.”

A thrill of alarm shot through her, heart hammering against her ribs. It felt like a bad idea. “Alright, but… let me find something to sit on. Being hunched like this is uncomfortable.” When he didn't move she offered up a wane smile. “I won't run. I promise.”

He let out a displeased hum, but let her go. She did snatch the cup as she stepped back, placing it on the little side table before she turned to assess the pantry. With only a little sigh, she dragged a crate to the cot and sat down primly. Spite closed the distance in an instant, face close and eyes bright. Nerves had set her hands to trembling, unease curling in her stomach, but she kept her face placid. 

“Why does Lucanis. Refuse himself?” He asked suddenly, voice low. When she only offered him baffled blinks he almost snarled, bringing their hand to caress her cheek. “He thinks. Of touching Rook. Like this.” Their thumb traced the line of her jaw, a little rougher than she would have expected, but it set her heart fluttering all the same. “Always wants to touch. So many different ways.” The wandering motion dragged their palm across her cheek, leaving a trail of warmth before their fingers tangled in her hair, holding her in place. “Wants to be close. Thinks of it. Constantly. So why does he not?”

She could feel the flush creeping up to her cheeks. “Only Lucanis can really answer that. I'll only have guesses.”

That did earn her a frustrated growl. Her heart was back in her throat at the noise and Spite was narrowing their eyes again. A dangerous grin slowly crawled across their face. Spite brought their free hand up to tug her hair free from the pins that held it in place. She didn't dare move as it cascaded to her shoulders, barely daring to breathe. He dragged their fingers through her hair, trapping a lock and pulling it to their lips.

“Like fresh blood. Fire dancing in the hearth. Warmth in the bones.” He purred. 

A strangled noise was all she could offer. Both hands cupped her face, trapping her gaze with his purple blaze. They were so, so close again. Her breath hitched.

“Storms at sea. Sun through glass. Sharp edge of knives.”

He bent their face to the crook of her neck, beard ghosting along her skin. She shivered. Their breath was warm and it felt like the ground disappeared from under her feet. The world reduced to the space between them, a sliver of distance barely maintained.

“Red berries and jasmine. Dizzyingly sweet. Smells of desire.”

That sent an electric spark through her veins, her pulse jumping. She shouldn't be hearing this. The urge to run screamed through her, but Spite had placed a hand on the side of her throat. Their fingers were tangled again in her hair, their wrist pressing down on her shoulder, and that single weight felt crushing. She couldn't move. Their free hand traced the pointed edge of her ear.

“Lucanis wants. So does Rook. Can smell it. Hear it. Feel it.” He brought their face back to hers, head tilted, lips hovering over hers. “Yet you both. Refuse. Why?”

She swallowed thickly, her voice hoarse and wavering. “Fear.”

That seemed to give him pause, though he didn't retreat an inch. “Of what?”

“Expectations.” The words fell unbidden, rasping whispers. “Disappointment. Pain. Misunderstanding. There's… so much that surrounds feelings like this.”

Their brow furrowed as he digested the idea. The moment felt like it stretched on forever under their caging grasp. And then she watched as he dismissed the thought. “Needless. Solution is simple.”

The distance disappeared before the alarm could settle in her bones. Spite's kiss was a hungry need, clumsy but forceful. He moved their other hand from her ear to her cheek, trapping her completely. It would have made her laugh if she had been able to form a thought. Part of her was screaming to run, of course, but the other part simply felt relief. A need finally answered, content to exist in the bruising kiss for eternity. She clawed at their chest, grabbing a fistful of their shirt, but wasn't able to bring herself to push them away or pull them closer. The sharp bite of teeth ripped a gasp from her, more surprise than anything, and Spite finally relented. When he leaned back, he had a wolfish grin as he licked blood from their lips.

“Simple.” He purred.

And then his presence vanished like smoke in the wind and she was left being held by a Lucanis who was struggling to take it all in. His eyes staggered over her loose hair, the deep flush to her skin, and her wide eyes. Her breaths were too fast, shoulders shivering. He could taste iron on his tongue and something else, something new. They stared at each other, both petrified, before the curse finally slipped from his lips, quiet and wondering.

“Mierda.”

It seemed to startle them both, his hands leaping away from her as if he had been burned. She stumbled backwards off the crate, pushing her bangs out of her eyes just to have something to do with her hands. Her gaze was focusing anywhere but on him, unwilling to see the look on his face. Would it be horror, or want? It felt like both would break her heart right now.

“Rook,” his voice was staggering, uncertain, “I-”

“Sorry,” she cut in sharply, a nervous laugh coloring her words. “I just- Spite had questions and I- Sorry.” She took a clumsy step towards the door. “I think… I need air.”

It was her turn to run, stumbling past the tables and chairs. She didn't stop until the dining room doors were closed firmly behind her. Pressing her back to them, she slid to a crouch. Head in hands, she took gulping, shivering breaths. There was a knot in her chest, a confusion of emotions. She had wanted that from Lucanis, but she liked it from Spite, too. That caused a worrying flip in her stomach. She did not want to pick that feeling apart right now. Shaking fingers dabbed at her lips, feeling the shallow cut the demon had made. The bastard left a reminder for her. It caused her to groan, pressing her palms against her eyes.

“Rook?”

Her head shot up in alarm at Bellara’s voice. The elf was paused at the bottom of the walkway to Neve’s room, a bundle of papers clutched to her chest. She took a tentative step forward as Rook shot to her feet.

“Are you okay? You look… Did Lucanis do-”

“No!” She cut in sharply, launching herself from the doors and almost running past the Jumper. “That was not Lucanis.”

[dood-itsradical]

Same Difference.

Pairing: Jake Kim x F!Reader

Summary: Never the one to speak of your father, Jake beat you up to it. Finding the irony of the situation.

Genre/Trope: Fluff, established relationship, friends to lovers.

Details: 1.1k words, tomboy!reader, f/name stands for father's name, reader's dad is gen 0 hotshot.

A/n: It's only been two days since I last posted. I'm just itching to write/post and not doing it actually makes me tweak. I love feeding y'all 😔 As always I don't do requests.

Masterlist

"Hellooo...! Earth to (Name)."

The snapping finger finally released yourself from your daydream.

"Huh?" You turned to Jake. "Oh, sup J." You brushed your hair back.

"You alright? How far are you?" He leaned on the desk to your side. You shake you head, ignoring his question. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Right." He nodded, decided not to pry on you further. He gestured the boxes and files, "You were helping me getting rid of these junks?"

Giving him a weird look as you put two and two together since it's obvious that he could've just given this task to anyone.

"If you wanna hang you could've just said so, you know." You deadpanned.

He shrugged innocently, "Guilty but I wanna be careful. See if there's some stuff I might wanna keep."

You grimaced, pulling a grin. "Might."

"Might." He cringed. "Because see this." He pulled out old photos to you. Most of them were Gapryong Kim, no doubt. Few were him with other folks.

You took them from his hand, looking closely for yourself, "What are you hoping to find? I thought you hated the guy."

"Can't a guy look around without feeling bitter? I ain't a sissy."

His casual reply made you rolled your eyes. But you get him. And good for him for getting over the grudge. Or not. It's no rocket science that he's just hiding it for the sake of his image. Especially to you. To anyone, really.

"Huh."

"What?" You turned at him.

"Didn't know he and (F/Name) knew each other. Not surprised but, damn."

Your brows lit up but luckily he didn't notice. You leaned closer towards him to take a good look at what he meant. And well what'd you know? His old man and your old man standing together.

"You...know him?" Jake nodded, "Not much. But I heard enough. I always wanna learn (F/Name) fighting style. That fist. I just couldn't get it right." He formed his own fist, demonstrating his failed attempt.

Your gaze trailed at his body posture curiosity. You take notes to what he lack. Almost as if you're be able to scan him right here and then.

"Like this." You instead automatically showed him how it's done without feeling like you're showing off. You aren't. You're just show what you know. So forming a fist of your own, you leaned your upper body forward slightly and push the air, mimicking a subtle punch.

"This?" He followed you, again still getting it wrong. You shook your head, scratching your neck, "It's a bit complicated. I don't know how to explain."

Jake grinned and relaxed his body once more. "Don't be like that. Teach me. You know didn't you? I've never seen you kick ass up close before, it's not fair."

You only chuckled and continue with the junks. But does he stop talking about (F/Name) after that? No. And it confuses you. What did he see in your father that you don't? To you, he was just a guy with knowledge to pass down before he grow old. But an old fashioned influencer? You legit thought the guy was a nobody. He was an isolated man. Respect or feared by many. Never in your life thinking he'd get out there. Let alone having friends. Friends are too generous. Colleagues are more like it.

"Does he...have any kid?" You didn't know why you asked that, but you were mindful enough be vague about it. You were quite curious now that you know your pop was, or still is a big shot. Might as well use the privilege by hearing it from Jake.

He nodded, tossing the papers into the burning barrel. "One. A son. Never seen him. People said he's good too. His first kill was when he was nine."

Your face hardened. First kill. Nine years old. You really didn't wanna hear about that. Seems like words do come around here. And a son. People refer you as 'the son'. It makes you wonder if that's what your father rather see you as or you just look like one. Besides, you hardly get by proper friends back then. Son or daughter, same difference. They were all afraid of him. The thought still makes you slightly somber. Your movement slowed.

Jake notices but continue, "Got something you wanna share? I won't bite. I'll get it if you have a bitter pasts with him. Consider how knowledgeable you are." He tossed the last one in his hands then sit down on a portable chair. "But I'm curious about what you've learnt. Hell, I'm not gonna lie, I'm very curious. So...why not be a doll and share it? With your favourite boy Jakey?"

Your solemnity faded, replaced with a snicker, "'Jakey'? You really know how to persuade me. You persuade better than girls do."

"Yes, well, it's part of the big deal." He lays out his one-liner like winning an award. You laughed, tossing the papers towards him but missed completely as they flew to the opposite direction. "Oh my God. You're not gonna stop using that, are you?"

He laughed with you, leaning back only to lose his balance and landed his back on the ground. You both shared another round of laughter.

"Okay but seriously. I can't know?" He kept himself laying on the ground for a bit, eyes stayed on you.

"I never said that. I'll be honoured to teach you." You sighed, stretching your arms. "Besides, I hate to keep you in the dark. We're friends-"

"Boyfriend and girlfriend." He quickly corrects you.

"Right, sorry. And I'm too guilty for not telling you that (F/Name) is actually my dad."

He nodded, "Yeah, I totally get that. I'd be to- wait." He paused, "...What??" now standing up to look at you properly. He comes forward and grasps your shoulder firmly with intense eyes. "Please. Teach me."

Save to say he took it pretty well. And as promised during your spare time you spar with him by teaching him what your father had taught you. Seeing him so concentrate surely piqued your interest. You have so much to focus on. From fixing his postures and techniques to his constant shirtless, sweaty, covered-in-tattooed self.

"That's it for today." You exhaled, wiping your sweat with a cloth.

"You go ahead, I'll meet you inside later." He insisted. But you didn't leave yet. "You could use the break too. I hate to...hit the shower alone." You muttered, hoping he didn't hear that part. But he did, now staring at you like a deer caught in a headlight. Now you feel embarrassed. You're no better than him. Flustered as he is.

"Nevermind, um, forget I said that." You turn your head sheepishly. He was quick to catch up with you. "No, no. I'll come too."

"No, it's fine-"

"I'm coming, no take backs. You, me, shower. Yes? Yes. Okay." He fastened his pace, pulling you by his arm effortlessly. He's totally gonna be the death of you.

[soldearestsoulmate]

Character + Prompt/Request:

Hyugo and GN!Reader, Sol x GN!Reader (Sol is mainly just mentioned here fyi. This is more Hyugo centered.)

Have some small angst. 🩵💔 (Hyugo fans I'm sorry lol)

"How many times has he told you he doesn't love you?"

The question took you off guard, made you grow silent as you thought back over it...

"Rarely...Never..." You muttered.

"Exactly! Then you have nothing to worry about! Sunny loves you, Y/n! With his whole heart and soul! Never forget that okay?" Hyugo said with a smile and wink, though you didn't notice it wasn't genuine. If anything, Hyugo was hiding back a frown, or more than just that.

As much as he supported his friend Sol being in love with you, supported his mission to win your heart, to be together. He also couldn't deny, he hated it.

He didn't know when it happened, how, but he couldn't ignore the fact he was crushing on you...No...It was far more than a crush now. Hyugo was in love with you. But he dared not to say it, show it, because of Sol...Because of his best friend.

But if Sol wasn't his friend, wasn't someone special and important to him...

He would of ridded of him already and did everything in his power to make you his.

Yet he forced himself back, helped support Sol get closer to you, to get farther away from Crowe, his rival.

Though Sol was unaware of the many times Hyugo would watch you and him leave together. Usually hand in hand now...Smiling, laughing together. As he felt jealousy over seeing you smile and show joy because of Sol...

But same time, seeing you smile and look happy, it was all he wanted and needed to see too. Even if it wasn't with him.

Yet he still wished, wishes...He could be the one to make that happen for you, make you feel that happiness, joy and love with and around him.

"Hyugo?" You snapped Hyugo out of his thoughts, as you reached a hand out to touch his face. "Why are you crying?"

"What?" Hyugo didn't even realize he was shedding tears as he was so lost in his thoughts over what he was feeling...

Then felt his panic rise over this slip up, a huge one, scared he'll ruin it all for Sol. "O-oh! I just...I'm just so happy for you and Sunny! Who wouldn't tear up over such a cute lovely couple! God you two make me so proud." Hyugo tried to play with the tears now, making a silly show of wiping them away like he was in some drama play.

You couldn't help but lightly laugh at his act and then give him a playful light shove. "C'mon! I was really scared you were upset there! But really...If...anything is bothering you. You can tell me you know? You're a good friend to me Hyugo...One of the best ones I have I feel now."

That hurt. He knew he was just seen as a friend to you, but still, hearing that, it hurt. He should still be happy, yet he struggled. Struggled to smile, but did his best to force it, look convincing.

"You're my best friend too, Y/n. Which is why I only want the best for you, always." He felt his heart ache with every word he spilled, then he heard Sol calling out for you.

You turned away to see him coming, your attention completely on Sol like always now. But that gave Hyugo enough time to turn around and wipe his tears away that were escaping his eyes again. Then took a deep breath to compose himself before Sol arrived over.

For Sunny... Hyugo thought. It's all for Sunny...

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Eager Transaction (Chuck Bass x gn reader)

Summary: you give Chuck a blowjob in order to get him to buy you something

Warnings: SMUT, blowjob (Chuck receiving), light praise kink, swearing, cum swallowing, could be seen as sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics if you look at it in a certain light

A/N: I feel like Chuck would adore lavishing his partner with all kinds of gifts in general but there are probably certain things you can do to guarantee you'll get what you want quicker if you catch my drift 👀

You were lounging on your bed in the penthouse you shared with your boyfriend, spending the evening by doing some last minute holiday shopping (for both your friends and yourself). Every time you found the perfect gift for them, you looked at getting another for you as a job well done. Who said the season of giving couldn't involve giving a few things to yourself?

Clicking out of your previous tab after another successful order, you scrolled through site after site until your eyes caught onto it. There it was. You'd finally found the one thing you'd been searching for all week.

It had unfortunately been out of stock every time you'd previously checked, but now it was back in. You didn't want to risk waiting to purchase it, but you also couldn't afford to buy something else on top of all the other stuff you'd bought so far, which left you with only one choice left: you'd have to ask Chuck to get it for you.

Picking up your laptop, you left the bedroom and headed into the lounging area of the penthouse where he was looking over some forms for one of the hotels he owned. He didn't even look up when you entered, already suspecting that you wanted something from him. "Yes?"

"Buy this for me," you demanded while placing your laptop down in front of him so he could see the website you had pulled up, not even bothering to say hello first.

The thing that you wanted wasn't really expensive compared to the outrageous amount of wealth he had, but you knew if you made an order and not a request it was a lot more likely he'd comply. You'd learned that the hard way after the last time he strung you along for two weeks straight because you wouldn't stop begging for him to buy you something (hearing you beg was one of his favorite past times so naturally he couldn't resist).

He didn't seem fazed in the slightest by your tone, though you knew if anyone else spoke to him that way they'd be on thin ice immediately. "What for?" He questioned just to mess with you and not out of any real interest, an amused smirk toying with his lips as he glanced up at you.

Not in the mood for his teasing, you blurted out the very first thing you could think of that would definitely sway him in your favor. "Buy this for me and I'll give you head."

When you spoke, it was at the exact same time he'd chosen to take a sip from his glass of whiskey, causing him to nearly choke as he allowed your words to fully sink in. His eyes were wide with shock, but the second it registered in his mind exactly what you'd just said they narrowed with a look of oncoming lust. "Get on your knees," he practically growled.

You didn't need to be told twice, dropping down to the floor on your knees as soon as he told you to. Your hands moved out to unbuckle his belt, but he lightly smacked them away, needing to be in full control of the situation.

"Wait a second first."

A pout formed on your face at his words, but you knew better than to act bratty. He set the laptop off to the side, balancing it on the armrest of his chair before moving his hands to undo his pants and push them down far enough to pull out his length. You could feel yourself already beginning to salivate at the sight of it.

"You know what to do," he lazily drawled before turning his attention back to the laptop so he could view the other things you currently had in your cart. Maybe if you were good he'd decide to get them all at once.

Licking your lips, you leaned forward until your head was level with his crotch and slowly took his cock into your mouth, letting out an eager moan for good measure. Your hands moved to rest on his knees as you began to bob your head up and down, growing a little smug at the groans he was already starting to let out at your current actions.

"Fuck, sweetheart-" he swore under his breath as his legs spread a little further apart, giving you the space to move in closer as your hands traveled from his knees up to his thighs.

You could already taste the salty precum in your mouth, which caused you to moan again, taking him in a bit deeper. One of his hands moved to rest on top of your head, gently guiding your movements.

"That's it, baby, there you go, just like that-" he muttered in a slightly breathless voice, clearly affected by the way your mouth was moving around him.

That wasn't enough for you, though, as you noticed him still glancing at the laptop every now and then. Call you an attention whore, but you wanted him to be focused on you and you alone, so you gripped onto his thighs and dug your fingers into the sides of them to get his attention.

A soft grunt escaped him at the action from you, and he looked down with a stern gaze. "Behave, or I'm not getting you anything at all," he lightly warned, evidently not too fond of what you did.

You whined around his length, the vibrations coming from your mouth causing his head to tilt back some. Once he was distracted again, you took the opportunity to suck a bit harder, your hands gently rubbing his thighs where you'd dug your fingers in as a form of an apology.

"God, baby- Don't stop-" His voice was a bit lower than usual, his hand moving from your head to clutch onto the chair's armrest as he tried to contain himself. You knew from that he was getting close, so you took him in a bit deeper and teased his cock with your tongue, trying to get him to finish.

Your plan worked, because he came not long after that, his hot seed erupting into the back of your throat without any warning other than him letting out a quiet string of swears. Not wanting to waste a single bit of it, you greedily swallowed down every single drop before pulling your mouth off him with a pop.

"Open and let me see," he commanded while reaching his hand down to hold onto your chin so you couldn't move away just yet. You obediently opened your mouth in response to his words and stuck your tongue out, proudly displaying that you'd swallowed it all. He let out a hum in acknowledgement. "Good job."

Beaming at his praise, you simply observed as he tucked his now softening cock back into his pants and zipped them back up. You turned your head and pressed your face into his thigh, giving it an affectionate nuzzle.

"It'll be here sometime next week," he suddenly spoke while helping you up from off the floor and handing you the laptop back, referring to the thing you'd wanted him to buy for you. Somehow he'd managed to purchase it even while you were giving him a blowjob.

You leaned down and gave him a tender kiss, smirking somewhat as you were certain he'd be able to taste himself on your tongue. "Thank you for the gift," you purred out in appreciation before taking the laptop and turning to head back into the bedroom.

His eyes wandered down to your ass as he watched you go, letting out a low whistle that caused your face to heat up slightly. There was definitely going to be a round two later once he was done looking over the hotel forms, he was sure of it.

End notes: this was written purely because I'm a whore for chuck and that's it lmao

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[brokenpieces-72]

Christmas Visit

CoD Gangster AU | Navigation

TW: Some sad stuff

The holidays are often rough for you. Not getting to spend them with your dad isn’t fun, but you use the days as a chance to visit him. Usually that involves some cookies and a thermos brought to his grave. It was a tradition you’d had with Graves as well, so it was a little awkward to go with him now.

“Could always go Christmas Eve.” Laswell suggested.

“Was thinking of doing that instead. Could take Alex with me.” You suggested.

“What about Price?” She asked. That couldn’t hurt. Maybe it could be a nice gesture. Then again, Price didn’t strike you as the most sentimental person. Doesn’t stop you from asking him.

“Hey boss?” You asked poking your head into his room.

“Yes?” He replied.

“Could I ask a sort of favour or rather I had an offer I guess, you don’t have to say yes-“

“What would you like?” Price asked, stopping your ramble before it started.

“Would you come with me to visit my dad? On Christmas Eve?” You asked. Price doesn’t answer right away and you start to panic a little again. “You don’t have to, it’s just-“

“I was planning on going.” Price answered. “I’ve gone every other year. Hoped to see you there, but Graves made sure to take you Christmas Day. Said it was for privacy.”

“Okay.” You nodded. Okay why did that feel so awkward?

Christmas Eve came and you told the rest of the guys that the visit was more personal, and they understood you wanted it to just be you and Price. They wouldn’t bother you, and had plans made of their own. You walked with Price, carrying a thermos of cocoa and a bundle of cookies in your pocket. Price noticed you were wearing darker colours, with the only contrast being your red scarf. Still kept in good condition despite everything that had happened. You were still limping, which wasn’t great when it came to icy patches. Price offered you his arm, which was certainly helpful.

“Should’ve taken a car.” You muttered as you kept walking.

“Cars have more risk when they’re not driven by someone you trust.” Price told you. “After what’s been happening, it’s safer to walk, and lay low.”

“Hence the awkward route.” You said, Price nodding.

“Precisely.”

You make it to the graveyard by the afternoon, but the gate is locked. You can’t easily hoist yourself over it like you usually would if Graves forgot the key. You do make the effort, giving Price your thermos to hold on to.

“What are y- Y/N, stop.” Price took hold of your wrist as soon as it took hold of one of the design pieces on the gate. You flinched and pulled away immediately. You didn’t look at him, but he looked at you. “Shouldn’t have grabbed at you.” Price said.

“S’fine.” You said. Price did a quick look around, before stepping closer. You were facing the gate, almost pressed right against it. Price just places a hand on your back, trying to gauge your state. If you shrugged him off or flinched it meant you need more time. You just take a deep breath, welcoming his presence. Price then backed up, inspecting the gate, and then the stone walls. Price removed his jacket and asked you to hold it for him. You took it, and stepped back at his request.

Price tried your original idea. He's able to scale the gate pretty well, despite his age and the fact he too had been shot recently. By now he was probably used to getting shot, so the after effects probably didn't bother him anymore. He gets to the other side dropping down with hardly any issue, making a thud against the frozen ground. Thankfully, the gate could be unlocked from the other side, letting you in. Price out his jacket back on, before you continued on.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked.

“Go on.” Price said.

“Why didn’t you come to the wake?” You asked. Price sighed, knowing it was a heavy question.

“Your father was a good friend, but he insisted on maintaining the cover. He still had me in the will, but it was kept private from you. I also knew if I went to the wake Graves would be there and the last thing I wanted was for you to see him get into a fight with me.” He explained.

“You weren’t mentioned in the will.” You pointed out.

“Not to you.” Price said. “I was in the will but it was kept in the form of a letter, there was one for each of us, including Laswell. It was another way your father tried to keep you safe.”

“So…” you slowed your pace letting Price walk ahead of you, before you both stopped. “Why wait?”

“Hm?”

“Why didn’t you ever to me? You waited until I was on a case to track you down and arrest you, why not say something sooner?” You asked. You weren’t upset or offended. It was genuine curiosity. Price closed the distance between the two of you.

“When I saw you the day of the funeral… I blamed myself. I dragged your father out there, I wasn’t as careful as I should have been. He died. I let it happen, knowing his child was waiting for their dad to come home.” Price explained. “Imagine your father’s killer coming to his funeral and introducing himself to you.”

You started walking again, taking a sip of the thermos. “You didn’t kill him.”

“I know.” Price said walking beside you again, hands in his pockets. “I didn’t at the time, and I didn’t know if you did.”

“I didn’t know until I sat down at the pub.” You admitted. “He’s still out there.”

“Sitting where your father should be.” Price said.

“And vice versa.” You added.

You found your father’s grave stone. Every step closer after that last turn in the path had you feeling waves of emotion. There was plenty you wanted to say, plenty you had to tell him. You take a sip from the thermos, half wishing you’d put some Bailey’s in it or something.

You stood in front of the stone with Price not sure what to say. Where should you start? You sniffled and felt the tears coming. Just the cold, you tell yourself.

“Hi dad.” You started. “Merry Christmas. I brought someone different this time. A lot has happened lately.”

Deep breathes, you’re doing great so far. Take it in steps. You’ve painted the base layer, now paint the shapes. You can add details as you go. You sat down on the cold snowy ground, removing your coat to use as a cushion. Good thing you had layers. Price followed your lead, taking off his jacket to do the same.

“I’ve met the others as well. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz. They’re keeping me safe. Trying to at least.” You said, keeping your voice steady. “Graves um… he told me some of what happened to you, and Price told me the rest. That’s kind of why he isn’t here, I… I don’t want to see him right now.”

You took breaks in between, trying to think of what to say next. Your jaw clenched, before speaking. “I know about Makarov. I know about the 141 and what you used to do. I know how you died. I know… I know why you didn’t tell me but…”

You couldn’t finish the sentence, your emotions getting the better of you. Price sat there watching you, as you pawed at your eyes. He put an arm around you, wanting to remind you he was there.

“I’ll take over for a bit.” He said softly. Price turned his attention to silent grave stone.

“L/N. Sorry I haven’t been around, been busy and all that.” Price started. “Plenty to tell you about. Pub is going well, the rest of the men are getting along fine. And of course we have a new one.”

A moment of silence, as if he was letting your father have a chance to respond. Then he said, “You raised a good one. Maybe a little naive, but we all were once. Still learning to be their own person. Graves is being his usual stubborn self, I think he passed it on to them.”

You chuckled. “Got it from my dad.”

“That’s for sure.” Price said. The rest of your question still hung in the air. You already had your answer.

“…I know why you didn’t tell me dad. Safety reasons. I… I wish you had told me sooner. Might’ve made life a bit easier…get beat up less.” You said.

“They did very well.” Price told your father.

There was silence again. Both you and Price stared at the stone. Price snuck a glance at you, thinking. Should he tell you? No. It was Christmas Eve, you were visiting your dad, and already trying to just talk without bursting into tears. There wouldn’t be an easy time to tell you that story. If you ever asked him, he would tell you, but you hadn’t so he wouldn’t. Instead Price took the cookies out of his pocket, unwrapping them for you.

“Was waiting for those.” You admitted. Price smiled. You took one and he took the other. You both tapped cookies, in a sort of toast. Another swig from the thermos, and deep breaths. The sweetness helped with the comfort.

“Should tell him the good stuff.” Price told you.

“I’m a glorified tagger dad.” You said giggling, trying to laugh through the emotions. Price shook his head, smiling at your silliness. “I’ve been doing art again. People like the murals I’ve been making. The one for Los Vacqueros is my favourite. Been sketching in my book still. Oh! And I got a cat, or rather Simon picked up a stray and I’ve been helping with the kittens. I’ve started hanging out with Alex more, I mentioned him to you before.”

Price sat with you and continued to listen to your stories, and recounts of everything that had happened in the past year or so. He told his own tales as well that you got to hear for the first time. You probably sat there with him for hours. It didn’t take long for the night to come around. The cold setting into your bones.

You knelt down and gave your father a final good bye, pressing your forehead to the stone. “I love you dad… Say hi to mom for me.”

You got back up, as Price placed a hand on the stone. “Who dares, wins.”

Price offered his arm and you took it, as he led you out of the grave yard.

Price takes you to the pub afterward, and you’re met with a familiar face opening the door. Nikolai smiles and wishes you a Merry Christmas. As you step inside, the stop a surprise you realize it’s more than a stop. You see the 141 at a pool table, with some drinks, and not just them. Farah and Alex were talking to Alejandro, and Rudy was on a team with Soap against Gaz and Ghost. Laswell sat and watched the game play out. Price joined her at the bar, as you walked in.

The black outfit felt a little out of place now. As you looked on at the people who had taken you in you quietly thank your dad. Your father had protected them. Now they protected you.

"Aye, ya gonna stand there or join us?" Soap asked. You smiled and came over getting yourself a drink from behind the bar. As soon as you took a swig and set your drink down, Gaz placed an empty bottle on the pool table.

"Testing my aim still?" You asked, getting offered a pool cue.

"We'll see how they are after a few too many." Kyle commented. You gave him a side look. Rudy put the balls in the rack, while you got the cue ball set up.

"Bet." You said, taking the cue and setting up your shot. You bounced the ball of the bottle, getting a decent break.

Kate and John sat at the bar, watching the game. Both of them kept their voices low, to keep the conversation to themselves.

"You didn't tell them about the scarf." Kate commented.

"Nope." John said, taking a sip of his drink. Kate turned her head to him, while he watched on.

"You have to tell them eventually." Kate said, sighing. "There won't be a right time."

"Not tonight... not tomorrow either." Price said. Kate didn't often see this side of John, the sentimental side. You deserved to know after everything, but John was right. It was Christmas Eve, and tomorrow was Christmas. There was no telling how you would react. Kate would continue to keep John's secret until he came froward with it himself.

For now it was Christmas. You had good drinks, good aim and, a good family. You weren't always going to have that. Now was the time to relax and enjoy what you had.

"Boss, you're being challenged." Simon called over.

"Am I now?" Price asked, seeing you look over to him. He set down his drink and got up from the bar. Farah came over to Laswell, to offer another cue.

"That's playing with fire." She told Farah. Farah shrugged, willing to take that risk. Kate accepted the challenge. As snow fell outside, there was no time for worries, no issues to worry about. Simply good food, good drinks and a good family.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit

[acidblum]

— Яitual ²

Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Vampire!Reader (w/c: 2.5k)

DO NOT BUY TLOU

AO3 PART ¹/SERIES MAS.

⚠︎ WARNINGS +18 MINORS/MEN DNI, blood consumption, angst (kinda), mentions of infidelity, backstory chapter in a way, less dialogue, less ellie, vampire!abby anderson, references, sex, death, weapons, mentions of religion no mentions of readers skin colour or hair texture.

ⓘ A/N: i’m so sorry pretty people the second part is coming out this late :(, luv yall pls enjoy and share with me your thoughts and ideas about our cuckoo gals<3 also if there's any warning i failed to mention tell me.

The two infamous covens, a divine picture drawn to the naked eye, a unity, somewhere you could belong-at least that’s what they told everyone when they preached their sermons. Although the consequences included losing your soul for a higher connection..some might claim it was worth it.

All the pain and all the agony started with Selene for Aaron questioned why she bit into the snake when she was asked to not give into the temptation by Kanchelsis—the god of the underworld. It wasn't the apple hanging high from up the tree she was after, she had her eyes set on the shimmering green snake, she smelled the blood and tasted the flesh before she even pierced her canines into the flailing reptile.

What everyone failed to know is that the highest mother was carrying a child when she started feeding on her mortal dutiful husband for he was the only one she was allowed to feed on—as demanded by kanchelsis. bringing forth the mankind of vampires and the formation of the first ever coven to go down in the books, The Ancients. They were and still are known for their reserved nature, never seeking or raising their children to be anything other than thankful and graceful with the humankind.

Selene’s pregnancy went as smooth as it could but it was naught without losses, it seemed that her feeding off of her husband wasn’t the safest option for she killed him whilst giving birth in a moment of utter fury, she sat in the water tub in total shock and distress whilst she was encouraged to push by her maker and the servants surrounding her thrashing body in a circle

Tears well up in her eyes “i cannot bear his child..orphaned, i beg of you my lord”

He ignores her pleas, focusing on the task at hand of making her deliver a healthy child. “Push my lady” squeezing her hand in his long clawed one, her agonizing scream reverberating off the walls of the chamber and into the dark night, awakening all types of demons and creatures alike.

“I can see this head! Come on push my highest mother! Push” the shrill cries of the fragile babe with the tiniest of canines for teeth can be heard by everyone in the chamber prompting them to sigh in relief including the mother who is drenched in sweat with red emerald tears streaming down her face.

and it flew right over their heads, the intensity this child could bring and what his uproar did. Elijah grew into the most rebellious vampire known all over the world, word got out that he is a wanted man for being the deadliest of the whole lineage. That's when the second and last coven was made, in the First Republic of France.

They call themselves the La Brumes, 10 vampires always gloating about their agility and power to vanish through thin air, facing no consequences whatsoever regarding their relation to the french revolution. Elijah made sure to be close to every nobility he could ever get to know including Louis XVI. It is heard around the streets of good ol France that Louis died at the hand of a creature that tore him apart and threw him all around his humble abode..in pieces might i add. And of course the servants and whoever found his pieces had to say that he was found dead in his bed.

He rebelled against his mother Selene and shunned her to a locked palace under an alias. putting her on trial simply for refusing his request to turn even more mortals into vampires around the world—talking all about the “tremendous power” it’ll give the covens. With the help of Kanchelsis, he ensured the highest and the mother of his kind doesn’t see the sun ever again. Stupid was he for he still yet has to face you.

𓃭

The candle lit room seemed to have seen better days, clothes and undergarments strewn all over the floor and around, where your naked form is laying on the lounge chair with nothing covering your lower intimate area but a light satin shawl.

Your observer for the day who is just as equally naked as you was your companion, or maybe lover? Not quite that..even though the both of you were really really close and she was one of the few people who managed to give you a bone thrashing orgasm. not to forget that the entanglements among the coven's members were a bit frowned upon by the higher ups—and all you replied with after making love to her was..fuck the higher ups, your coven or hers can suck it just how she does on a sunday morning.

“What ails your mind now? Do we need to go for a third round??” she questions, chuckling when you snort from your place with your arm under your head. “Now wouldn’t you love that Anderson?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

You shrug “and let’s not get this twisted, I'm always the one that dominates you.”

she tuts with a sly smile etched on her cheeks “you read me like an open book mon cher” her brush cladded hand moving in calculated strokes against the canvas, focusing on painting your crimson glinting irises.

A smug look graces your face before you exclaim. “But we’re not lovers Abigail..remember?”

she shakes her head “And do you ever let me forget”

Abigail Anderson, the history you’ve had with her extends far back into your teenagehood, when her dad was your dad’s right hand. At first she saw you as a very smug, fragile, mommy dearest type of person, waltzing around in her mothers french garden with your Ted Lapidus glasses on and a red scarf that compliments your eyes around your neck, your figure cladded in a black on black suit. you’ve kept to yourself that day—until your younger brother decided it was a good day to throw you into the Anderson’s gigantic fish pool.

and oh boy was she ready to dunk in and save your poor self from the little fishies. holding your body close to hers where she was wearing a white simple shirt with nothing underneath and some grey trousers, her nipples hardening against the shirt and her eyes never leaving yours—the intensity of her stare definitely left you aching for something more.

she carries you out where your brother snickers and laughs at your sticky and wet form with a nod. shooting him a death glare, eyes shining in pure red, he closes his mouth not uttering a word when you pass him by the door with the water dripping down your back and forming a trail behind you.

“Good luck sister” he whispers.

that day she lent you her clothes—you never returned them. which was a little bit big on your frame. “Hopefully the stench will come out when you shower, there’s a towel behind the door for you, and plenty of hot water.”

“oh you’re not coming with?” you ask, feigning innocence.

she chuckles in amusement, fangs shining underneath her pink luscious lips. taking two steps towards you. “I don't think you’re ready for this” cold icy hand reaching to cradle your equally cold chin, she rubs it once before walking out of the door, leaving you to watch her wet shirt cladded back retort into the hallway.

“you know i really wanted you” you look up at her with glossy eyes and a downturned smile. prompting her hands movement on the canvas to pause, her back going rigid from her place in front of the aisle. shaking her head, inhaling hard “you know i would’ve never been able to hold you down”

you snorted in mockery “oh yeah i was the literal face of Studio 54 wasn’t i? Still I wouldn't have minded if you showed me around instead of gawking from the other side of the dance floor.” a manic laugh spurts out of you uncontrollably “i’ve searched for your face in every mortal i could find..man or woman, i wanted them big, hard, french with a mean streak..but they never were all of that. They were never that perfect, not like you at least.”

standing up, she rests the palette and the brush on the stool beside her. stretching out her back you can hear a few cracks bellow in defiance. walking up to you in slow calculated steps before kneeling down to your level, her big body creating a shadow that looked like it could engulf yours.

“and how can I make it up to you..hm?”

“Does anyone in your coven even know that you’re here? Your partner??” a look of disdain..confusion crossing your face when she holds out the palm of your hand to her lips, light feathery kiss after the other getting plastered all over your lightly held arm. Holding her dead stare you make no effort of moving or reciprocating her advances.

“Isn’t mommy dearest gonna get upset if she knows that i've been between these lush thighs for years?? Day in and night out you’ll have me right here, ravishing you and getting ravished by you and your heavenly sex” she points out looking up at you from her kneeling spot, a vision of art that she is, maybe you should’ve been the one who made her pose for you, you’ll probably end up hanging the portrait on the wall facing your bed..and maybe using it to relieve yourself while you whisper her name, knowing that she can hear you even with thousands of miles between the both of you.

“Bite me” a knowing look crosses her face, almost proud before she does exactly that without uttering any other words. Sinking her teeth into your forearm gulping down your sweet blood, abby’s loud throaty sounds and her humming into your skin sends pure vibrations urging your back to arch in immense pleasure. “Do you know the amount of people who’d love for me to tell them that? Bite me?” you push her teeth off with a low snarl. blood gushing and then trickling down your forearm, the veins around your eyes more prominent than ever.

Sparing her a scrutinizing look while you rise to your feet, the shawl sliding down your body and onto the floor beside her thigh. “And yet you’re the one asking your supposedly sworn enemy to do it” she retorts.

You can’t help but snicker at her whilst you put on your robe “says the one sitting knees down on my floor like a good kitten” words spitting out of your mouth like venom you failed to notice that in a fast whiff of air she appears in front of you, nails digging into your waist, the shine of her eyes speaking a foreign language to you, nose flaring uncontrollably with a lustful look gracing her face. She bites into your neck after a low growl, taking slow calculated strides until your back hits the wall of your room in a loud thud, swallowing your soft moan.

𓃭

“I need my sister gone”

“Here we fucking go again, i told you i am not that capable, i can’t kill your sister. Can’t you find a Cerbera Odollam stake or whatever your kind uses to kill each other and pierce it through her heart if the idea of her walking amongst the living haunts you still? It’s been two decades and you won’t let it rest.”

Not liking what she was hearing—the harsh and painful truth from her dear witch friend she mutters. “Your great grandmother did it once on my deranged uncle”

“You said it..deranged, your dear sister is eccentric..but not like him, he went on a killing rampage and it’s literally written down in history which was exactly what he dreamt of achieving and your coven gave it to him on a golden platter when your dad wrote a ‘fictional book’ about him”

Before getting executed by order of the two covens. Your uncle, David, claimed he saw god and that the almighty asked him to form a cult, your mother tried talking him out of it but it just resulted in him killing nearly ten vampires of which are his own including his own child and thousands of humans without hiding his tracks well. He wrote in blood on every concrete wall in the streets of every country he ever stepped foot on including Persia ‘if we burn you burn with us’.

A hunt had to be put in place for him, you were the one who brought him in, bruised and hungry. “I’m sorry uncle but you gave us no choice, who do you think you are? The prophet? What. a. Joke.” a baseball bat wrapped in silver wire swinging left and right in your hand, taking calculated steps towards him.

He was dragging himself on the wet muddy ground, clothes torn, hair matted with blood, reciting verses upon verses in prayer. A sight for sore eyes. not even bearing you a look, the poor man was trying to save himself. little did he know that in front of him was you. “have mercy on me, niece! the lord will save us all through my body”

you look around “i don’t see him saving you right now”

“b-but he is with us! i can see h-“ not taking your chances you swing the bat right at the side of his head, silver wires piercing his skull, hard enough to hurt but not enough to kill his immortal corpse. “Now you’ll get to meet the lord and have some tea together. tell him i said hello.”

𓃭

Ellie’s sleepless nights persisted after that dream she had, rehearsing, eating and writing for their new album had one being in mind…she thought it was very childish, but she couldn’t shake off the presence of it, of her, the vampire.

something she never believed in and never will—that’s what she keeps telling herself. in her young years she and her sister alongside their dad used to watch horror movies of which involved vampires and other monsters. Sarah would cling to their dad whilst Ellie would snicker at her older sister.

“you’re such a pussy”

“language Ellie” Joel would retort without a glance making her sister stick her tongue out from her place cuddled up against Joel. “tch it’s not even that scary..these types of things don’t even exist and if they did they’ll get killed in seconds in the sun” she shrugs.

Ellie continued with conveying her distaste about the paranormal, even when people started accusing them of selling their soul to the devil over their written lyrics and sudden spring into the metal and nu metal scene. interviewers found it funny and had to bring it up every. single. time. she was extremely fed up, she'd nod and and shrug cause why was it surprising that a so called satanist didn't believe in all of that??.

Dina on the other side leaned into it, often times than not taking weird pictures with a drawing of 'punk jesus' that she made, facing extreme backlash on her socials while Jesse posted verses about kindness—their PR team never catches a break that's for certain.

taglist🗞️: @winkybun

© 2024 acidblum, All Rights Reserved.

[penguin--person]

Do you think they neuter mutants at the facility

you sent this ask to the wrong blog ❤️ the pafl confessions blog is here ❤️live laugh love

[gingersnapwolves]

So today I want to talk about puberty blockers for transgender kids, because despite being cisgender, this is a subject I’m actually well-versed in. Specifically, I want to talk about how far backwards things have gone.

This story starts almost 20 years ago, and it’s kind of long, but I think it’s important to give you the full history. At the time, I was working as an administrative assistant for a pediatric endocrinologist in a red state. Not a deep deep red state like Alabama, we had a little bit of a purple trend, but still very much red. (I don’t want to say the state at the risk of doxxing myself.) And I took a phone call from a woman who said, “My son is transgender. Does your doctor do hormone therapy?”

I said, “Good question! Let me find out.”

I went into the back and found the doctor playing Solitaire on his computer and said, “Do you do hormone therapy for transgender kids?” It had literally never come up before. He had opened his practice there in the early 2000s. This was roughly 2006, and the first time someone asked. Without looking up from his game of Solitaire, the doctor said, “I’ve never done it before, but I know how it works, so sure.”

I got back on the phone and told the mom, who was overjoyed, and scheduled an appointment for her son. He was the first transgender child we treated with puberty blockers. But not, by far, the first child we treated with puberty blockers, period. Because puberty blockers are used very commonly for children with precocious puberty (early-onset puberty). I would say about twenty percent of the kids our doctor treated were for precocious puberty and were on puberty blockers. They have been well studied and are widely used, safe, and effective.

Well. It turned out, the doctor I worked for was the only doctor in the state who was willing to do this. And word spread pretty fast in the tight-knit community of ‘parents of transgender children in a red state’. We started seeing more kids. A better drug came out. We saw some kids who were at the age where they were past puberty, and prescribed them estrogen or testosterone. Our doctor became, I’m fairly sure, a small folk hero to this community. 

Insurance coverage was a struggle. I remember copying articles and pages out of the Endocrine Society Manual to submit with prior authorization requests for the medications. Insurance coverage was a struggle for a lot of what we did, though. Growth hormone for kids with severe idiopathic short stature. Insulin pumps, which weren’t as common at the time, and then continuous glucose monitoring, when that came out. Insurance struggles were just part and parcel of the job.

I remember vividly when CVS Caremark, a pharmaceutical management company, changed their criteria and included gender dysphoria as a covered diagnosis for puberty blockers. I thought they had put the option on the questionnaire to trigger an automatic denial. But no - it triggered an approval. Medicaid started to cover it. I got so good at getting approvals with my by then tidy packet of articles and documentation that I actually had people in other states calling me to see what I was submitting (the pharmaceutical rep gave them my number because they wanted more people on their drug, which, shady, but sure. He did ask me if it was okay first).

And here’s the key point of this story:

At no point, during any of this, did it ever even occur to any of us that we might have to worry about whether or not what we were doing was legal.

It just never even came up. It was the medically recommended treatment so we did it. And seeing what’s happening in the UK and certain states in America is both terrifying and genuinely shocking to me, as someone who did this for almost fifteen years, without ever even wondering about the legality of it.

The doctor retired some years ago, at which point there were two other doctors in the state who were willing to prescribe the medications for transgender kids. I truly think that he would still be working if nobody else had been willing to take those kids on as patients. He was, by the way, a white cisgender heterosexual Boomer. I remember when he was introduced to the concept of ‘genderfluid’ because one of our patients on HRT wanted to go off. He said ‘that’s so interesting!’ and immediately went to Google to learn more about it. 

I watched these kids transform. I saw them come into the office the first time, sometimes anxious and uncertain, sometimes sullen and angry. I saw them come in the subsequent times, once they were on hormone therapy, how they gradually became happy and confident in themselves. I saw the smiles on their faces when I gave them a gender marker letter for the DMV. I heard them cheer when I called to tell them I’d gotten HRT approved by insurance and we were calling in a prescription. It was honestly amazing and I will always consider the work I did in that red state with those kids to be something I am incredibly proud of. I was honored to be a part of it.

When I see all this transgender backlash, it’s horrifying, because it was well on the way to become standard and accepted treatment. Insurances started to cover it. Other doctors were learning to prescribe it. And now … it’s fucking illegal? Like what the actual fuck. We have gone so far backwards that it makes me want to cry. I don’t know how to stop this slide. But I wrote this so people would understand exactly how steep the slide is.

[cuteniarose]

Me: *creates an OC*

Me: *heavily implies OC will meet a bad fate*

OC: *meets bad fate*

Me:

(Alternatively, I may have started it, but @katkastrofa enabled me and now I’m losing my mind)