#than what you were anticipating based on what the last person who looked at it remembers (let alone was just expecting in general)

[dredshirtroberts]

feeling a lot more stable about everything, i decided to forego keeping a bandaid on because my fucking skin cannot take the adhesives for that long omg itches so bad around them

I have a plan in place to replace the bandaids should i require not needing to see my elbow again about it, but i also wanted to see for myself how bad it was.

BOY HOWDY do I bruise purty. That shit is dark where it's not already going greenyellow. looks like I put a sharpie in a chokehold and barely managed to wrangle it into submission like damn.

[fanaticsnail]

Seat Number Four

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 4,500+

Synopsis: You are stuck on an eight hour flight between two gentlemen you have never met before. Unaware of their prior history and dislike for one another, you attempt to relax and watch a new series your friend recommended. The series was a little more raunchy than you had anticipated, and you become a little uncomfortable in your seat between the two attractive men. Doflamingo reassures you your need is nothing to be ashamed of, and he would be more than willing to help you out if you allowed him to teach the younger blonde how to best please you.

Warnings: Doflamingo x cisfem!reader x Sanji, gendered terms used, Vinsmoke name used, modern au, NSFW, smut, MDNI, 18+, threesome, public sex, fingering, finger sucking, penetration, oral, (dub con masturbation by a guest appearance), Spanish Doflamingo, French Sanji, not very much plot, praise (reader receiving), degradation (Sanji receiving), bisexuality hinted (subtle Sanji x Doffy), Dom Doffy, Sub Sanji, switch reader, voyeurism.

Notes: based on this post by @/shamblespirate (I don't know if they'd like to read this or not, so I thought I'd spare them the debauchery) and the encouragement of @physics-of-one-piece. Sitting between Doffy and Sanji, two unhinged blondes on an 8 hour flight? What could go wrong?

Stumbling through the boarding gates and checking your luggage at the last minute should've been the sign that this eight hour flight was not going to go the way you expected.

This simple trip you needed to take for work was booked at the worst time. The only warning you received from your boss was a quick email stating the fact that you needed to pack your bags to attend a week long conference. No further context, no meetings, no chance for rebuttal, and simply no time.

What made matters worse is the fact that you were meant to be situated on the window seat of the last row of the plane. Closest to the bathroom, furthest from the food, and caged by the bodies of two complete strangers.

However, these strangers seemed to know each other, both sitting in pregnant silence as steam seemed to rise from the younger blonde’s ears in simmering rage. That same younger blonde, who seemed to take your absence from the final call for boarding as your consent, to sit in your assigned seat.

Not one to cause a fuss, you stored your carry on above the taller, tanned blonde in the aisle. His glasses did very little to conceal the heavy eye contact he made with your breasts as you had no choice but to bury him in the chasms of your chest as you stuffed your bag above him.

The first few hours of your early afternoon flight was filled with tension. While the taller man seemed to antagonize the younger blonde in Spanish, the younger would curse at him in French beneath his breath.

Blocking them both out with your headphones, you opened your traveling laptop as soon as the signs indicated it was safe to do so, and listened to music while finishing off your final projects for your boss. Each time you made to adjust your arms more comfortably, you would inadvertently brush your body against either of the two men. Uttering your apologies beneath your breath each time, you were not made privy to the conversation that was being made regarding your persons.

“She looks rather pent up, rubio. Do you think she'd appreciate my fingers stuffing her pretty cunt full-?” the snickers of Doflamingo were cut short by the younger blonde.

“-That is no way to treat a lady!” the hushed tone flew through the air like a kick to the chin, only seeming to draw up the older blonde’s smile wider. Looming over your shoulder as you commenced the beginning of a series, Doflamingo looked through the base of his glasses at you before looking over the rim at Sanji.

“You were the one to take her seat, mi pequeño. How’s that for treating a lady?” Sanji glared at him, offering no retort for the theft of your seat. It's true, he stole it from you the moment he noticed the close proximity to the Don of Quixote. Being an heir to the Vinsmoke dukedom had them both in similar social circles, and each time they met, Doflamingo would tease and torment him regarding his obsession with serving women.

Treating women with respect was a foreign concept for the other heirs, and Doflamingo seemed to enjoy tormenting him about it. In actuality, he admired that in him. Doflamingo loved his mother, and he often thought of her fondly. Sanji made those soirees entertaining and bearable, and Doflamingo wanted to return the favor.

“I think this lady would allow us both to treat her, if you catch my meaning,” Doflamingo chuckled, prompting Sanji to snap his head over at him. Before the younger could speak, Doflamingo halted him with an observation, “The series she seems to be watching has had a fair amount of love scenes and nudity. I don't think she was anticipating that in this series. Just look at her, sitting there all flustered.”

Slowly shifting his eyes over your form in a manner to not startle you, he noticed how flustered your face was. Eyes wide, heat radiating from your face, and slinking your body down into the seat, surely enough, you were fully fixed on the series. Although the screen was darkened, Sanji could clearly make out the shapes of two men and a woman indulging in intimacy on the screen.

Your breathing seemed to both slow and quicken with the elevation of your heartbeat, prompting Sanji’s eyes to darken on your blissfully ignorant form. Doflamingo's grin widened as he gained Sanji’s attention back onto him.

“Once the rest of the aircraft vessel falls asleep, I would love to teach you how to really treat a lady, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo intentionally brushed his chest against your shoulder as he learnt closer to Sanji, “If she's willing, of course.” Hastily darting his eyes down to you and back up to Doflamingo, Sanji reluctantly gave his nod of understanding.

“Only if she's willing. I don't want to make her uncomfortable,” he uttered strictly. Noticing the soft shudder in your form as Doflamingo held himself against you, Sanji felt this wave of protection swirl in the pit of his stomach. As soon as he made to make a move to rally to your defense, you made yourself comfortable in the shroud of Doflamingo’s embrace.

“I think she'll be more than willing,” Doflamingo eyes you dangerously before reaching down to unplug your headphones from your ear. Snapping your head over to him, he hushed you with his voice dripping in smarmy sweetness.

“Easy now, mi querida,” he smiled genuinely, “The dining cart will be by shortly. Just making sure you didn't miss out on a choice.”

“Oh!” You smiled at him reaching down to the bags you stored beneath the seat for your wallet. “Thank you, mister…?”

“Doflamingo,” he gave you a polite nod of his head while closing his eyes at you. Gesturing with his chin, he drew your attention to the younger blonde, “The Frenchy is Sanji.” You turn your smile to the younger one, noticing his fluster seemed to grow and litter his cheeks in a soft blush.

“We couldn't help but notice the series you were watching,” Doflamingo continued, his fingers hooked beneath your chin and turning you to face his much taller body, “And I thought you should know, we're both very interested in seeing how it plays out. Care to remove the headphones from the port so we can hear too?”

“Oh, uh-...” a wave of bashfulness overcomes you at the knowledge that they were both witnessing a particularly graphic depiction of love making over your shoulder, “...a friend recommended the series. I didn't know what to expect, and they absolutely didn't warn me about the content.” Both Doflamingo and Sanji chuckled at you in their own ways, enjoying your company and getting a better read on your character.

“I don't think either of us mind a bit of graphic content in with our plot, do we pequeño,” Doflamingo asked Sanji, his smile quirking up at the corner, “You could use a few pointers on how to please a woman anyhow.”

“Speak for yourself, le vieillard,” Sanji retorted at him in a hastened quip, “I know how to please a woman just fine.” You shook your head and chuckled at the way they balanced one another. As the dining cart approached, Doflamingo placed his order and offered to pay for both yours and Sanji’s in synchrony. Both of you expressed your gratitude, enjoying being treated by the older man.

As the night wore on, your meals lay firstly improved by the younger blonde before consumed. You learnt they were both in high social circles, the younger had aspirations of becoming a chef as depicted in his satchel of spices. The older gentleman was from a reputable family that sold their fortune off to investors without his consent. He had to claw his way back up to the top, leading to an empire he molded for himself.

While they truly should've been in first or business class, both of them seemed to find entertainment in regular seating. You were grateful for their attention and company, and enjoyed being doted and treated by two blonde men who were eager to please in their own ways.

Once under the cover of nightfall, the meal trays left collected and napkins discarded, and the raunchy series had finished, you all spoke in hushed tones and gossiped about the characters. Talks of: “She deserved to find happiness,” or, “The way they filmed that was exceptional. Tasteful nudity with a hint of wanting. Simply beautiful,” and “She could've had both men if she played her cards right.”

Doflamingo’s larger form swooped ever closer, the shroud of his pink, feathered cloak caging your body in your seat as he leant in closer. Asking permission with his eyes, you nodded your head as you felt him press his lips against yours. Tongues darting out, Doflamingo reached forward and grasped at Sanji, tugging his wrists and placing them on your thighs first. Guiding Sanji's chin up to your neck, you felt the younger man latch and lick at your pulse as Doflamingo stole your breath from your lungs with his kiss.

Tilting your chin with his hand, Doflamingo made a trail with his digits down your neck and through the hem of your shirt to grip at your breast. Noseying through the material of your bra, he began softly rolling and lightly pinching your nipples beneath the cups. Consuming your soft gasps needily, he guided one of Sanji's hands to reach beneath your shirt to cup at your other breast.

Hands, lips, tongues and teeth overwhelmed you. Everything was too little and too much all at once. You felt your arousal soak through your panties as both men toyed at your thighs and hemline to your stomach. Simply no longer caring about professionalism and giving into their touch, you allowed them to push aside the material and undo your pants.

Breaking away from the kiss, Doflamingo’s hands brushed over your mound and down to toy at your glistening folds. A gasp was strangled in your throat as you attempted to stifle it. The heavy snores and breathing from the seats in front and beside you indicated you didn't disturb anyone of their slumber, but you didn't want to take the risk of being too loud.

Lowering himself down into your ear Doflamingo purred at you, “I am going to teach Sanji how to please you. I am going to have you cum on my fingers a few times before I let him try.” You gulped back a mouthful of nervous saliva as Sanji shot his attention between you both, “Is that okay with you, mi amor?” You couldn't pull your eyes away from the older man, nodding almost dumbly as if hypnotized by the promise of the pleasure to cum. Chuckling, Doflamingo presses a kiss to your jaw before licking a stripe up to your ear possessively.

“If you can't help yourself from moaning, I'll have Sanji stuff your mouth full of his fingers for you to suck on. Do you want them straight away, or do you want to wait?” He offered you Sanji’s hand raised to your lips, pressing the pads of his digits at your lips just as he sank his own further down to tease at your arousal. Whimpering, you immediately took Sanji’s fingertips in your mouth and swirled your tongue around them.

Sanji gasped, his own moans choking in his throat as he became caught up in the moment. Doflamingo shoots him a warning look, growling out a low order at him.

“And if you can't help but moan at the feeling,” Doflamingo gestured with his chin to your breasts, “Make your mouth useful and flick that silver tongue over her nipples. Let her feel that frenulum piercing you think your daddy hasn't noticed.” Sanji’s eyes went wide, the tension once again rising between them.

“I am not calling you daddy, le vieillard,” Sanji barked in a harsh whisper, prompting Doflamingo to chuckle as he began toying with the border and hood of your clit with his middle and unity fingers.

“I was referring to your biological father, niño. However,” he leans over your shoulder and scrunched his nose at the younger man playfully, “If the mood arises, I prefer ‘Papi’.” Tugging your body flush against his chest, hidden by the shroud of his cloak and broad shoulders, Doflamingo snaked his hand around your waist after drawing up the armrest between the seats.

Sanji pushed up your shirt, physically unable to contain the moan that flew from his lips the moment he noticed the ripple of your breasts bouncing free beneath the fabric. Immediately surging forward, Sanji latched onto your left nipple, swirling and mouthing at your puckered nipple and romancing it with his kisses. Doflamingo chuckled as you offered the same enthusiasm mirrored back to him.

Without further warning, Doflamingo prodded and pressed at your entrance with his fingers, curling and grinding them against your glistening arousal and collecting your slick over his fingers. Stifling your pretty mewls on Sanji’s fingers, Doflamingo curled his digits in you, using the pad of his thumb to roll against your clit as he began beckoning his hooked fingers slowly. Stimulating your clit and your g-spot with his hand, he leaned down to be in earshot of both you and Sanji.

“Look at you both. Both my sweet little ones are doing so well,” Doflamingo purred lightly, “Is mi reina sucking your fingers good, mi príncipe? Is she using her tongue like a good little reina, hm?” You bit back your moan, opening your mouth and demonstrating to Doflamingo how your tongue swirls and grinds against Sanji’s fingers. Sanji couldn't help himself, Stradling your thighs as you were tucked in Doflamingo's lap. Slowly rolling his hips against you, you felt how hard the young blonde was as he bucked his clothed cock into your thigh.

Chuckling, Doflamingo doubled down on his efforts to make you squirm. Holding you flush against his chest, he continued coaxing out soft mewls muffled by Sanji’s fingers in your mouth.

“Stop your petulant rocking, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo whispered his soft tease down at the younger blonde, “This was about pleasing her. You think she wants your precum soaking her pretty thighs through your pants? How's that pleasing her?” Sanji gasped, the cool intake of air causing your body to tremble at the harsh cold. Switching to the other breast, Sanji whimpers against you as he attempts his hardest to not rock his steely cock on your legs. His eyes dart down to where Doflamingo’s larger hands pry open your walls and scissor his fingers in your pussy with expert precision. Doflamingo leans down and nudges Sanji’s fingers away with his forehead before swallowing your moans with his lips covering your own.

Hastening the pace of his fingers and thumb, perfectly coaxing and beckoning your orgasm from you, your body explodes in the quickened lightning of your ecstacy. It felt almost out of the blue, unprompted but not at all unwelcome. The scream from your throat was captured and muffled by Doflamingo’s lips as he chuckled into your mouth. Unintentionally bucking your hips up into his hand, Sanji whimpered as your thigh brushed with his cock. The vibration of his moan shot through your nipple and down to pool more of your glistening arousal over Doflamingo’s palm.

“My, my. That was a big one, mi amor. Is there another? Another one for me?” he uttered against your lips, prompting you to shake your head hastily to not have him stimulate you further. He clicked his tongue in a curt ‘tsk,’ before removing his hand from your pussy. Your walls contracted in the final pulses of your bliss in a bid to keep his digits within you as he pulled out.

“Aw, but she wants more,” Doflamingo purred at you, referring to your cunt twitching and throbbing after coming down from your orgasm. Sanji couldn't help himself, he hastily pushed Doflamingo’s face away from yours with his chin before meeting his lips with your own. He greedily dominated your lips, his desperation coming out in soft pants and barely audible whispers.

“Please. Please, I need you. Please?” Sanji attempted to relay, not entirely certain as to what he was asking. All he knew is that he wanted it, and the ‘it’ in question was ‘you’. Peeling back the button of his pants, the rosy tip of his pretty flushed cock immediately sprung forth. You had never seen such a beautiful cock before: all shiny and throbbing with need, the pearls of precum coating the small slit over the blunt tip. The slender shaft had several veins prompting the swell in desire, your own immediately rising just by his need alone.

He did not set out a plan in motion to fuck you in front of Doflamingo, but he was too far gone to not clothe his cock in the heat of your cunt after witnessing how truly beautiful you looked while keening in bliss. Doflamingo moved to chastise the younger boy, only halting as he witnessed you push your pants over your hips and down to your knees. Rolling onto your stomach to face your enshrouded breasts to Doflamingo, you arched your back and whispered to Sanji.

“Let me sit in your lap like this, sweety?” you moved your ass to sit with your back facing Sanji’s chest. His cock found its home between your legs, the tip brushing with your clit as he rocked into your firmly shut thighs. Each soft drag of his cock prompted him to sign out little gasps of pleasure. Doflamingo arched his brow as he witnessed you huff on Sanji’s lap as a wave of fresh desire swelled within you. Displeasure and unamusement grew over his face the longer you paid attention to the younger blonde.

Turning back your attention to Doflamingo, you motioned with your arms for him to come closer to you. Doing as you asked you reached up and gripped the open collar of his shirt and tug him into you. Lips finding his once more, your tongue sought out his own to perform against it in a sultry dance. Grinding the muscle over his own, you lifted your hips and lined up your slit with Sanji's knob. Just as you were sinking yourself down onto him, you halted your motion and tore your lips away from Doflamingo's.

“Can I suck your cock?” you asked the larger man, “It'll keep me quiet, I promise. Please? I want to please you too. Let me, Mister Doflamingo?” Doflamingo could barely contain the shudder that ran through his spine. With the soft quiver of his jaw, he gulped emphatically before popping open the front of his leather pants.

“And how is that going to keep the one you're sitting on quiet? Or me, for that matter?” he asked you with his brow quirked up. You aided him in releasing his cock from the confines of his pants by fishing it out with your hands. Taking the velvety shaft into your hands, your eyes bulged as you witnessed the sheer size of him. He was a lot larger than you in both height, and the girth of his cock. You were ever grateful that you opted to fuck the younger man as opposed to the giant in front of you.

Circling your hand at the base and peeling back his foreskin, you whispered up at him, “You're smart, I'm sure you'll think of something.”

Doflamingo physically gasped the moment he felt your breath hover over his cock, briefly meeting his eyes over Sanji as you sank your pussy and your mouth over both of them in unison. Sanji’s gaze was focussed on your ass as it rippled in gentle rocks down onto his shaft, while Doflamingo focussed his eyes on Sanji while trying not to give away how truly unraveled he was becoming by your lips.

Pressing soft, kitten licks over his blushing tip, you cleaned away Doflamingo’s first dews of pearlescent precum before swirling your tongue over the sensitive surface. Doflamingo choked on a soft gasp, snapping out of his hypnosis to clap his hand over Sanji's lips as he bottomed out into your gummy walls. The younger blonde couldn't help but moan, the larger hand stifling the majority of it to silence him with a frown.

“Listen, Vinsmoke. I know she feels-... f-fuck…” Doflamingo started, halting as he felt you take more of him into your lips. “...Fuck, mi amor, you take me so well,” he whispered his praise down at you before turning back his attention to Sanji, “You need to keep quiet. Need I remind you, Trafalgar and Eustass are sleeping in front of you? You want to wake them up by whining like a stag in rutt?”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @imveryyellow

Sanji snapped his eyes over at Doflamingo, glaring up at him through his lengthy blonde eyelashes. Instead of biting back or insulting the larger blonde, Sanji couldn't help but roll his eyes in his skull as you began to bob on his cock. Simply unable to control his moans, Doflamingo shook his head at Sanji before huffing out in agitation while plunging his middle and index fingers into the younger blonde's mouth.

An accusatory glare first flew from Sanji to Doflamingo before Sanji used the older man’s fingers as a gag to muffle his whimpers into it. Gently bobbing your ass up and down over Sanji’s lap, the Frenchman's hands grabbed needily at your hips and ass as he bucked up to match your quickened pace. With fistfuls of your ass clutched into his greedy hands, Sanji bounced you with eager and desperate thrusts as he began to chase his high with you on his lap.

Doflamingo arched his brow high at the young Vinsmoke boy, noticing how well he was licking and sucking around his fingers before his attention immediately snapped down to you. Circling your hand at the base of his cock, your fingers expertly began to massage his heavy balls while gently bobbing and sucking his large cock. Flattening your tongue over his frenulum, your saliva pooled from your lips and began to drip down onto his shaft and the chasm between his balls. Using the added lubrication, you kneaded and fisted at the length you couldn't take in your mouth, while drawing up your lips over his cock.

Meeting your eyes with Doflamingo's, you smiled at him while removing your mouth from his cock and using your tongue to rake over him. Doflamingo’s breath shuddered, his nipples hardening beneath the open shirt as he shielded as much of himself as he could from the slumbering Nico Robin and the flight attendants.

“Oh, fuck. Look at you making me blush. Just like that, senorita,” he reached down with his unoccupied hand and cradled and caressed your cheek. Guiding your lips back down to cover his tip and swallow his cock, he began slowly rocking his hips up to meet your pace.

Sanji's thrusts were getting erratic, his rapidly approaching orgasm bound it's way tightly in his stomach. He could barely take the amount of pleasure coursing through his veins. The added suspense of getting caught had his nerves shot and heart skittish, but the sound of your drooling cunt taking his cock so well drowned out any hindrances. He snapped his eyes open, looking panicked at Doflamingo as he felt his balls suck into his stomach, the pucker of his ass warning him that he was nearly past the point of pulling out.

Doflamingo arched his brow at the young man, slowly leaning down to you and whispering, “I think Sanji wants to cum, pretty thing. Can he cum in that beautiful pussy of yours?” Making eye contact with Doflamingo, you nodded while speeding up your bobbing and sucking over the larger man’s throbbing hardness. Giving you a soft wink, Doflamingo sighed out to Sanji.

“If you need to cum, cum, pequeño. But you make sure she does too, you hear me?” Doflamingo pressed his fingers down on Sanji’s tongue to serve as a soft punishment and warning, Sanji gagging over his fingers while chasing his high faster. Nodding, Sanji reached one of his hands down to find your clit and began teasing it with his middle finger. With the added hooking motion of Sanji’s beckoning fingers, you felt yourself whimper on Doflamingo’s cock as he zeroed in on your pleasure.

Gripping the back of your neck, Doflamingo began rocking himself more firmly into your mouth and feeling his own approach tease at the corner of his mind. Soft gasps fell from his lips when he felt you focus more on his cock rather than Sanji's, the blonde behind you using his hands to both lift you and tease at your clit while he fucked you on his lap.

A strangled groan muffled itself onto Doflamingo's hands while Sanji's ecstacy spurted from his cock in pretty ribbons of translucent white. Painting your insides the pearlescent color of his bliss, Sanji bit on Doflamingo’s hand to stifle more of his keening moans. Doflamingo hissed at the pain before his jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back and whispering curses in Spanish under his breath. Without warning, his cum spilled itself in hot waves over your tongue and down your throat. Swallowing through hollowed cheeks, you took his entire release down your throat, which caused Doflamingo to double down in softly singing to your praises.

At the arrival of both of the blonde men’s cum, your walls contracted and milked Sanji's cock of the final waves of his bliss. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave made to capsize a ship, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you buried your throat beneath the girth of Doflamingo’s cock to stifle your cries of pleasure. Doflamingo rode your face through overstimulation, grinding his fingers in and out of Sanji’s mouth while Sanji’s eyes weeped through the intensity of his ecstasy.

“G-Good, mi amor. So good, look at you. F-Fuck, just like that, senorita,” Doflamingo praised you beneath his breath. “F-Fuck, you're such a pretty fuck. So beautiful, baby.” You continued to ride through the waves of your orgasm as Sanji spat Doflamingo's fingers from his mouth to double over and slump over onto your back.

Tilting his head to the side and gazing from the corner of his eyes at the seat in front of him, a shift in movement caught his immediate attention. The rise and fall of an arm over their front, a soft bitten back moan clenched and stifled by the clamp of their teeth, the redheaded Eustass Kid couldn't help but spill his own orgasm into a pre-opened tissue in hot spurts at the knowledge of what was happening behind him.

Only glimpsing over for a moment, and seeing Doflamingo's hand dip beneath the waistband of your pants, was all Captain Kid needed to see before his own hand began to fish out his cock in front of the sleeping Trafalgar Law. Setting up a mirror to witness the situation behind him was easy enough, and rocking his hips to the rhythm you set fucking Sanji was enough to have his eyes darken and jaw shudder. Leaning forward after Kid scrunched up the paper, Doflamingo tapped at his shoulder to bring his attention around.

“Got any spare tissue paper, red head?” Eustass Kid froze in his seat, “I don't particularly want to wake the attendants, and it's the least you could do for enjoying the show.”

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Wing Grooming Part 2

lucifer x gn reader smut

thank you to everyone who liked the last one i didn’t expect it to be as well received as it was eee got me all giddy 🙈 i felt like it was only fair bust out a continuation, hopefully you enjoy this one as well and it’s to your liking. also i have some Alastor, Vox n Adam stuff drafted i may end up finishing since i don’t feel as shit at writing lmao anywayyy thanks again kiss kiss

warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, GN body i��m pretty sure-no language specific anatomy (e.g clit, breasts, pussy), but penatration is what’s written, begging from both parties, possibly switch lucifer, dom reader, breeding kink?, mating press (don’t quote me), no Y/N, written on mobile and once again no mention of or alluding to bodytype/hairtype/or skin colour enjoy :)

"I think if we continue that, type of grooming, I won't be able to control myself." Although still shy about his admission his eyes were half lidded and his smile sly. You felt fire explode in your stomach all innocence out the window as your mind settled on one thought. You were gonna bang your friends divorced dad.

Smiling at the king you cautiously and slowly took his hand. “I think you should just relax and enjoy. Whatever happens, i’m more than willing to serve the king.” You lead him back to a seated position feeling his body slightly tremble as you spoke to him so softly. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Lucifer asked genuinely, worried he may have been crossing the line or putting you in a position which made it hard for you to say no. Now back in the prior position with you behind him, his wings splayed lazily behind him. You thought up your reply. “Lucifer, as much as i appreciate your concern, I’ve been stopping myself from drooling over you since you arrived,” You began speaking, tugging at his suit jacket colar. “That’s not because your the king either, if that’s what you think.” Jacket shedded your hands caressed the back of his neck and traveled down the centre of his back, to the base of all of his wings. Lucifer cleared his throat attempting to cover up the whimper that slipped past him in such a state.

You had him at your mercy, completely slumped posture relaxed, his legs spread out wide, eyes closed, you kept peaking around to catch glimpses of his gorgeous face. Continuing to do the first task at hand, you combed through his last set of wings, and Lord did the God make them sensitive for sure. Lucifer thought you must’ve been the true devil the way your hands worked only at his wings, meanwhile other areas of his body were becoming far more uncomfortable then his wings originally were. “Are you alright hun?” Lucifer chuckled lowly at that, teeth gritted. “Don’t pretend to be an angel.” Humming in response, you brushed his hair behind his ear while you circled around to join him on the bench. Sat beside him now, his eyes lazily met yours, a smile blessing his beautiful face.

Your stomach tightened with anticipation and want, leaning in slightly just to invade his personal space, you pretended not to notice the hump in his suit pants and dragged your hand from his knee, up to his thigh. Lucifers breath hitched meeting your waiting gaze, it was clear to him you’d brought yourself this far, it was his turn to put in some work. Although he found it extremely difficult with your dilated eyes staring at him expectingly while your thumb traced back and forth just inches below where he really wanted you to touch. Swallowing thick saliva he wrapped three wings around you, tugging your body agasint his effectively gaining a little noise from you. “Please,” He whispered to you body now turned toward in your direction, arm snaking behind your hips nestled between your body and his wings keeping their protective position around you.

You felt hungry for him, pure lust clouding your mind as you looked at his face. It held desperation, need, the way his brows knit together and upward, smile fallen into something that almost appeared pained. Moving your hand from his thigh to cupping his neck you pulled him toward you. The king didn’t stutter swiftly taking action to meet you in the middle. The two of you met with a sloppy kiss that held no real rhythm or direction, it was just the two of you breaking the thick tension by finally devouring eachother. Lucifer was no longer hesitant to give into the want he had, falling into your grasp while simultaneously pulling you as close as possible to him.

Your hand moved from his neck and trailed down the front of his chest and to the hem of his pants. Lucifer groaned into your mouth jerking upward into your hand, smiling agasint his mouth you pulled away causing Lucifer to chase your lips, eyes barely open. “C’mon big boy, lead me to your bed where you can comfortably stretch your wings.” Jumping to his feet he pulled you up with him. “Alright! Say no more!” The king excitedly exclaimed smile returning, snapping his fingers the two of you appeared at the side of his king sized bed.

The teleportation was excessive for the short walk to the bed, but Lucifer was excited, and wanted to show off just slightly. Grabbing him by the vest, you pulled him back into you, quickly falling back into the kiss, like it was natural, your tongues twisting and breath intertwined. Lucifer busied his hands with your hotel uniform, unbuttoning the suit jacket and dragging it off your body. You followed his lead unbuttoning his vest and starting on the last layer of cloth. The two of you smashed against one another once bare, the feeling of lucifers hot skin against you made you moan into him, behind him his wings spasmed with every response he got from you. Your finger nails scrapped gently against his scalp, and you pulled him in impossibly closer by his hair. He nearly came in his pants at your subtle displays of dominance and cared less and less each moment about holding back, grinding his hips into your own he was practically humping you.

Since the two of you stood at the side of the bed, making out, you decided it was enough. With mild force you shoved lucifer back on the bed, causing him to yelp. He got up on his forearms watching you upbutton his pants with hunger in your eyes. “How can i serve you, my King?” Already palming his hard on he threw his head back moaning. “Ugh, fuck- please.” He whimpered looking at you through his lashes as you grasped him with light pressure through his boxers, your other hand coming up beside him avoiding leaning on the wings that laid out relaxed.

Slowly you leaned yourself over him biting your lip with a wicked grin. “Help me with my pants Luci?” You whined dragging your crotch up his thigh. It didn’t take long for Lucifer to snap the buttons off and yank them down from where the sat. You giggled at his urgency, you were being a tease you knew. But you wanted to revel in the sight that you had before you, Lucifer the king of hell, beaded sweat along his forehead, messy hair, wings out fully expanded, face flushed and body ever so responsive to any touch you gave. You loved how hot it made you to have him so vulnerable all for you when it wasn’t likely anyone had seen him this way since Lilith.

“You’re so handsome, my king,” You purred kicking off your pants, a little awkwardly, and tugged at his. A quick ‘off’ left your mouth and it was all it took for the king to arch himself up and kick off his own pants leaving you two in nothing but underwear. You sat on top of his bulge making him toss his head back biting his lip, still propped up so he could glance at your devilish form every now and again. Grinding down on him made him jerk up, eyes meeting yours by reflex as you leaned forward threading your arms through his, and past his wings onto the bed, preparing to teasingly grind on him. “No,” Lucifer whimpered against your lips promptly stopping you from connecting again. “I, i can’t, no more teasing, i need to fuck you.” He switched at the end from a breathless begging to an assertion of sorts, making you smile looking into his eyes you could only imagine how dazed and full of desire your own eyes looked.

It’s not like you, yourself wasn’t barely hanging on by a thread, so without anymore teasing you slid your underwear down and lined yourself up to Lucifer. Precum slid down the length making him slick, his eyes traced your form, enchanted by how sinful you looked above him. You had a coy smile on your face as your inched down onto him. His hands flew to your hips gripping at your flesh as he tried to stop himself from ferociously fucking up into you. The devil knew good and well he could have control, could bring you into a state of fucked out bliss that would outdo any future partners, but he much preferred letting you set him ablaze while he relaxed into your electric touch and natural control. Being at your mercy felt good, and he hadn’t had somebody put such attentive care into the way they touched him up until now. Finally sinking fully down, your back naturally arched, mouth opening with silent bliss as the king filled you up to the brim. Lucifer twitched inside you, his tail finally making an appearance by snaking out from under him and around your stomach.

“Holy shit Lucifer,” You whined needily rocking yourself into him rather than properly riding him. Although Lucifer couldn’t care less, feeling you squeeze him tightly your body heat mingling with his own, the frangrance you wore mixed with the natural scent of your body intoxicating him further, he was in bliss. Falling forward into him, your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand going right back to raking through his hair tugging him back into a sloppy french kiss. Bending his legs Lucifer met your thrusts by fucking upward into you, his wings curling up from their rest on the bed effectively coocooning the two of you together. “Lord Luce, please, fuck. You should let me help you more often,” The sentence you said was more needy moaning then words but it wasn’t unexpected with the way Lucifer had kicked up the game; leaving hickeys and bite marks along your shoulders as his hands gripped and massaged any inch of skin they passed. It was all consuming, not to mention he’d covered you almost entirely with his wings making it so you could only be so far from him, it was like he was trying to keep you as close as possible greedy for everything you had.

Swiftly, lucifer switched positioned lifting you like nothing, and placing you on your back, making it so he had the advantage above you. He wasted no time pressing your legs as far up to your shoulders as they could go, loving that same dazed look in your eyes that he had moments ago sinking himself into you at a new angle. It swelled his chest with pride seeing he had the same effect on you as you had on him. Now it was his turn to have a coy smile, looking down at you as you moaned in an octave he hasn’t ever heard from you before. Sandwhiching you down, he caged you with his arms and wings fully blanketing you with himself. You looked up as he kept a slow shallow pace fucking in and out of you. “Ready to feel what heaven has to offer, my sovereign.” Lucifer chuckled darkly lust taking control at your bodys willingness to mold to him and the position he wanted. You kept moaning shamelessly as he tortured you with teasing thrusts, eyes watching him closely like he was all you knew. Finally he amped up the pace, thrusting into you so hard your body jolted back. “Shit Lucifer.” You moaned biting your lip watching as he drank up the sight of you. “Mh you’re so sweet, next time, I’ll have to taste you,” He gritted out, fucking into you rapidly his wings still protectively covering you, keeping eyes closed, and leaning his sweaty forehead against your own.

“Oh-fuck me i’m gonna cum,” You squealed suddenly being hit by waves of pleasure when he hit that spot inside you. Lucifer groaned biting your shoulder, skin slapping lewdly as he jack hammered himself into you, chasing his quick rising orgasm. You mewled unabled to do anything but grip at his hair and back, toes clenching as your wrapped them as tight as possible around him. “Don’t pull out i need it,” You cried out throwing your head back in euphoria, it was almost there but you couldn’t fully cum yet and it was torture.

That was until Lucifer lost the last of his control, horns expanding eyes a dark glowing red. He growled, actually growled something that otherwise would’ve been demonically frightening and pulled you into another firey kiss. This time though it was passionate, like trying to convey through this moment, that he didn’t view this as a one off hook up. He pulled away from the kiss his lips inches away from your own as he moaned, clenching his teeth. “I wantcha to be mine, only.” He stated lowly, pace never faltering as he spoke, you whined eyes pinched close holding on for him. “Say yes,” He demanded rather darkly before pecking you on the lips, you clenched around him at that feeling yourself about to snap. “Yes, i’m yours only,” You whined drawn out as you felt yourself coming undone, bringing you into another kiss, he put all his weight on top of you the bed creaking and possibly sliding against the floor as he fucked you. Once you screamed out his name, crying for him to fuck you, pleading to fill you fully, he was done for. Your name repeatedly fell from his lips as he cried as well gasping and panting as he pumped himself and his seed deeply inside of you, which only dragged out your orgasm longer.

The way you two finished was pornographic and the room was filled with the scent of sex. Lucifer slumped on top of you, the two of you panting violently, entangled in eachother and not in a rush to move away. You brought your hand up playing with his hair as he laid on you. “Stay with me tonight,” He started to say hushed seemingly afraid you’d now reject him. “I don’t want to be alone.” He finished quietly, you hummed continuing to play with his blonde locks, now sticky with sweat. “Of course Luce, I don’t want and never intended to leave you.”

[cece693]

Hi, it's the anonymous who made the first request posted about Ethan. I'm so glad you did; it was great to read and I hope you don't mind me asking for more. I'm thirsty for this character. Anyway, the request is about Ethan and the male reader in a toxic relationship where the reader is controlling and seemingly abusive, which worries his friends, but in reality this behavior is encouraged by Ethan himself, who simply loves his boyfriend's possessiveness, both of them bringing out the worst in each other. PS: watch the last two Scary Movie films when you can. They're really fun!

My Boy (Ethan Landry x M! Reader)

Thanks for the request :) I will definitely try to watch the new Scream movies when I have a chance. All I know about Ethan (with a Google search and reading his Wiki entry) is that he's a dorky and geeky guy so I used that to base this. Also, I mainly focused on how you're toxic, not including Ethan since I don't know him well. Hope you enjoy it!

Ethan’s friends had been worried for months. They’d noticed the changes—the way Ethan slowly isolated himself, the constant presence of his boyfriend, M/N, who always seemed to hover a bit too closely, and the way Ethan would flash a nervous smile whenever M/N’s arm tightened possessively around his waist. To an outsider, it looked like a classic case of an abusive relationship, the kind where one person held all the power, and the other was too scared to leave. His friends whispered behind his back, exchanged concerned glances when they saw the way Ethan always sought permission with his eyes before speaking or the way M/N’s words always seemed to silence him in public.

But what they didn’t know, what they couldn’t possibly understand, was that this was exactly what Ethan wanted. The boy leaned into it, into the rough words, the tight grip on his arm when M/N pulled him away from anyone who dared get too close. His friends thought those marks on his wrist and neck were signs of something dark, something to be feared. But to Ethan, they were marks of love.

M/N’s fierce jealousy, his need to control every little thing—who Ethan spoke to, where he went, what he wore—was intoxicating. Ethan didn’t want soft love or gentle touches. He wanted to feel owned and consumed. Wanted to feel like he couldn't live without M/N because he was the very air needed to breathe. And M/N gave him that in spades.

The possessiveness wasn’t some accident; it was nurtured between them, a game they played. Ethan loved pushing M/N to his limits, seeing the anger flash in his eyes when someone dared talk to him, only for M/N to later drag him into a heated argument, the tension sizzling between them. Their fights were never just fights; they were foreplay, a dance of anger and passion that neither of them could resist.

Behind closed doors, their dynamic took on a whole different life. Ethan didn’t cower when M/N snapped at him; he smiled, relishing every possessive word. When M/N told him to stop talking to certain people, Ethan’s heart raced, not out of fear but out of exhilaration. He loved how it felt to be controlled, to be told what to do, to be pulled back into M/N’s orbit over and over again.

The world saw a victim in Ethan, but in reality, he was the one fanning the flames, drawing out every possessive instinct in M/N. He loved the danger of it, how far they could push before it burned them both alive. And M/N? He was more than happy to oblige, loving how Ethan craved his jealousy, how he’d provoke M/N just to see that flash of rage, knowing it would end with them entangled in each other, lost in the toxicity of their need.

Ethan’s friends just didn’t get it, and it was exhausting. If only they could mind their own business, Ethan would be a lot happier. As he spotted Tara and Sam heading his way, he groaned internally, already anticipating yet another "concerned" conversation. He briefly considered making a run for it, but they were too quick, closing in and cornering him before he could escape.

“Ethan,” Tara’s voice was firm, low, and filled with that frustratingly familiar sense of urgency. “We need to talk. It's about M/N.”

Ethan immediately tensed, his jaw tightening. Of course, it was about M/N. It was always about M/N. He narrowed his eyes at Tara, shifting his weight like a boxer getting ready for a fight. “There’s nothing to talk about, Tara,” he replied sharply, his voice cold. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Sam cut in, stepping closer, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. “We’ve been watching this for months, Ethan. He’s controlling you. You don’t hang out with us anymore, you barely text—hell, you hardly even smile these days. It’s like he’s cut you off from everyone who actually cares about you.”

Ethan’s heart raced with growing anger, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m not cut off from anyone!” His voice came out sharper than he intended, his body rigid with tension. “I’m just busy. You guys wouldn’t understand.”

“Busy?” Tara’s disbelief was evident, her eyes wide as she stepped closer, not letting him wiggle out of the conversation. “Ethan, we’ve seen the way he treats you! You flinch when he’s around. You’re constantly looking over your shoulder, like you’re waiting for him to snap. That’s not normal. That’s not healthy.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shot back, his voice edged with frustration. “You don’t know him. He’s not what you think.”

Sam stepped forward, her tone soft but firm, like she was speaking to a child. “Ethan, listen to me. He’s not good for you. There are other guys—better guys—who’d treat you right. You don’t have to put up with this.”

“I don’t need your help!” Ethan snapped, cutting her off. His voice rose with every word, anger flashing in his eyes. He stepped back, trying to create distance, his frustration boiling over. “You want me to leave him, but I love him. Why can't anyone seem to get that?!”

Tara’s eyes softened as if she could somehow break through his anger. “Ethan, we care about you. We’re only trying to help. I’ve even got someone in mind—he’s sweet, kind, nothing like M/N. You don’t have to settle just because M/N is your first boyfriend. There are people out there who would actually treat you well.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, a flash of offense crossing his face. His lips curled into a bitter, humorless smile as he shook his head in disbelief. “Wow,” he muttered, looking down briefly before fixing Tara with a sharp glare. “I can’t believe you just managed to insult me and overstep every boundary I’ve got in one sentence.”

“That’s not what I—”

“No, I get it,” Ethan cut her off, his voice icy. “You think I’m some pathetic loser who can’t handle his own relationship, that I’m just clinging to M/N because I’m desperate. But you’re wrong. You don’t understand us at all. He’s not controlling me—I want this. I want him. You think he’s bad for me? You don’t know him like I do.”

“Ethan, you’re not seeing clearly,” Sam tried to interject, her voice pleading now. “He’s manipulating you, making you think this is love—.”

“Stop!” Ethan screamed, his fists trembling as he glared at them both. “You have no right to interfere in my life like this. M/N isn’t the problem, you are. You can’t stand that I’m not the same person I was before, that I’m happy in a way you’ll never understand. I don’t need saving—I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Tara’s face fell, her shoulders sagging as the hope of reaching him began to fade. “Ethan…”

“No,” Ethan growled. “I don’t want to hear it. Not again. Stay out of my relationship. If you can’t respect that, maybe we’re not meant to be friends.”

Without another word, Ethan turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving Tara and Sam standing in stunned silence, their concern now tinged with a deep, helpless sadness. To them, Ethan’s anger and defensiveness were just more proof of how deeply M/N had his claws in him, manipulating him into believing that this toxic love was all he deserved. But to Ethan, it wasn’t manipulation at all. It was passion, fierce and raw, the kind of love that consumed you whole—and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He swore he'll fucking kill anyone who tried to step in between you and him.

[anadiasmount]

now it's real - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: continuation of the "is this real?" parts! based on this request i received where jude gets the biggest surprise of all... can be real as a standalone also!!

wc: 1.6k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: hiiii!! when the anon asked me to do this I HAD TOOO!! you can find part one and part two here of the "is this real?" series! the fic has an insta au and story included all in one, like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

ynusername

liked by: judebellingham, gioreyna, jobebellingham, yourbsf, otherbsf, erlinghaaland, others.

ynusername: a one of a kind surprise 🤍

comments:

username290: HIS EARS!!!

judebellingham: family keeps growing, your welcome baby 🤍🙏

↪️ ynusername: best surprise ever :(((

gioreyna: coming over asap. going to teach him how to attack jude when he's being mean 👍👍

↪️ jobebellingham: i second guess this 👍

jobebellingham: 'its a german shepherd dog!' congrats you two! ❤️

user473: STOPP HES SO CUTE AND FLUFFYY

username33: aww :(( what's his name??

↪️ ynusername: his name is duke!!

user22: baby face!! he is so adorableeeeee

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judebellingham

liked by: ynusername, gioreyna, jobebellingham, marcoreus, jadonsancho, and 1,787,230.

judebellingham: when all he knows is how to play, bite, eat, and sleep 🙄🙄

comments:

ynusername: he's just a baby, let him be!! 😡😡

↪️ judebellingham: i wonder who he learns it from?? he's literally attached to you.

gioreyna: #attackingjudetrainingclasses are going very well i seem??

↪️ ynusername: they are indeed 🤭🤭

user44: stop his little floppy ears ❤️

username245: his tongue peeking out white he sleeps 😭😭

↪️ ynusername: just like jude fr 😂🤍

jobebellingham: why does he kinda look like you??

↪️ judebellingham: bc he's my kid obviously 😒

↪️ ynusername: our kid ***

username282: stop he has grown sm since the last time we saw him!!

user485: that second picture looks personal? what did you to do him jude??

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old ynusername stories from "duke's🌎 "

august 21' | september 21'' | december 21'

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old judebellingham stories from "y/n and duke 🤍"

october 22' | january 23' | may 23'

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“you know duke, if this is positive you’ll be a big brother right?” you say biting your nails, sitting in the carpet and scratching behind his ears, your words making him tense and bark. “yep. means you’ll have to protect another human, but it means more treats!” you say excited his tail wagging.

“i’m scared… this is scary duke… if i’m pregnant i don’t know how i’ll tell jude,” you frown, feeling duke set his head on your lap looking up at you. you had been feeling the symptoms for a month. constant nausea and headaches, taking naps earlier than usual, duke following you everywhere when he didn’t need to, or getting protective when someone came near you.

you had also missed your period, realizing that when you look at the box of pads/ tampons under the sink. you felt the random wave of emotions, the tiredness and aching back even after having a nice and relax day. all you needed was the test to confirm it. to confirm your worries and feelings.

as you felt anticipated, something inside you also felt panic. carrying a baby for nine months, the labor and delivery, the long road of recovery and now taking care for two. you’ve wanted to be a mom as long as you could remember, but now that reality was hitting, it made you overthink.

overthinking if you’d be enough for you and your baby, also jude and duke. being supportive even during the hard times especially now with jude. any traceable though ran through your head. but despite that, you were ready. you were young, had a stable job, a perfect relationship, and supportive family and friends. it was the perfect time to go from a family of three to four.

duke huffed and followed you to the restroom, waiting by the door as you took a breath of nervousness and tapped your nails against the marble counter. you needed to be sure, so you took three tests to make sure they all had the same result. tears were already beaming in your eyes, before you could even remove the box on top the tests.

with shaky hands and now shivers running along your body, you saw the plus sign and the double lines. you struggled a laugh and broke into tears excitedly. grabbing three of tests and looking at them closely to ensure you weren’t dreaming or your head playing games with you.

“duke! we’re having a baby! a baby inside me now! now wonder you followed me everywhere,” you say sarcastic, leaning down and placing kisses on his head, tail wagging. “i can’t believe it… me and jude are having a baby,” you say breathless looking out into the room and already picturing a crib and small stand where diapers and baby towels would be.

you pictured jude sitting on the bed, reading a story, kissing their cheeks, tucking them to sleep, making them laugh until they squealed or snorted. you brought a hand to your barely bump, rubbing it smoothly and feeling a wave of confidence and excitement run through you.

“let’s go! we need to find a perfect shirt to tell jude!”

you ended up taking duke to a local pet store, picking out a small bandana that mentioned he was going to be a big brother. then going to a crafts store to get a box and some paint, along with some confeti strips to place inside. the last thing to do was find a small real madrid jersey and baby replicas of jude’s iconic red predator boots he wore for his games.

you decide to wait it along to see if jude could fit the pieces together. not drinking coffee or refusing wine when he offered when eating dinner. declining a sushi date and going out to eat at one of your favorite outdoor spots in the city. saying no to going on a hike because you were afraid of falling or getting hurt before you could see the doctor.

jude couldn’t even see right through it. understanding maybe you were busy or tired after being at work. or giving you a small frown when you had to say no. or give you a confused face when you randomly eat your cravings. if there was one thing about jude, is that he is the slowest person, so of course he didn’t see this coming.

“you got not only an assist but goal as well tonight baby,” you say kissing his hand as you waited in the taxi to go home. to say you were nervous was an understatement. you were absolutely mortified to tell jude but you figured today would be the perfect night. after a special night in the bernabeu, you figured why not tell him.

“i’m feeling very much proud and in the mood for some celebration drinks. what do you say hmm? we open a bottle of wine and cuddle? maybe in time for some celebratory sex?” he teased kissing below your ear making you squirm. “jude!” you say refraining yourself, heat building up your cheeks and chest.

“what? i’d love to celebrate with my beautiful girlfriend tonight, and i will because i not only had an assist but winning goal,” jude smirked reciting your words in a teasing and flirty manner, making you hit his chest shyly. “ok keep the act up… you know you want it too,” he said turning away looking forward where the fans yelled his name and cheered.

you leaned up and kissed his cheek, grabbing his face and whispering an “i love you.” jude was in a daze, completely enamored by your beauty. drowning himself into your eyes and bright smile. you had this new thing shining across you, it looked like a fresh glow of something new along you. "i love you y/n." jude places a kiss on your lips, leaving you lingering and out of breath.

"looks like a package come," jude remarks, grabbing the wooden box and shaking it to see what was inside. "from the stork company," you say with a smile. "stork company? i've never heard of that," jude says dumbfounded, grabbing the keys and opening the door. he set the box down by the kitchen island and brought his bag to the laundry room.

jude return to see you propped on the island swinging your feet excitedly. "what are you hiding?" jude says suspiciously, raising his brow and coming over to you. "nothing... are you gonna open it?" you point to the box, hand running down his box. you look at your phone that was hidden and propped nearby, jude eyeing you againg before going to open it.

the familiar butterflies and adrenaline runs along your veins, your hand coming to your bump, as you bite you lip watching jude fiddle with the opening. jude scrunches his face confusedly, taking out the confeti. "duke!" you call out who was already wearing the bib.

jude stops what he’s doing, seeing the infant jersey and tiny football boots. he lets out a laugh, smiling upside down as he takes the baby jersey and holding it out, doing the same with the red predator boots. he glanced around eyes landing on you. “is this what i think it means?” jude says with tears in his eyes.

you giggle and nod quickly, feeling jude trace his hand on your thigh and the other behind your head. “you’re serious? we’re having a baby, y/n?” jude needs the confirmation before he can cheer outloud. a bubble of joystick trickling down his spine as he sees your eyes glimmering. “yes jude… i’m carrying our baby right now,” you look down a hand on your bump jude intaking a breath of air.

jude doesn’t waste any second, kissing you all over your face, tears running down his face emotional, whispering how much he was grateful and thanking you repeatedly making you cry out harder. “i-i-i can’t believe it… we’re having a baby y/n!” jude cheers wipping his face and looking at duke who wagged his tail.

“and you knew about this duke? and you didn’t tell me?” jude leaned down, scratching his ears and reading his small bandana. “no wonder yo wouldn’t let me get near momma. always barking or growling when i wanted to kiss her. not cool man…” he says playfully looking at you still in a daze.

“now you have to protect her from gio and jobe okay? if you do that it means more treats,” jude says teasingly making the german shepherd bark and jump. “oh god,” you chuckle, hand coming to your forehead already picturing the banter and training sessions.

“our family is getting bigger,” jude approaches you and leans down, kneeling and raising his jersey up. jude places delicate kisses in your tummy, making you squirm and hold the back of his head, watching with a huge grin. “my baby in there… i’ll protect you with my life. i love you already, and i can’t wait to meet you,” jude whispered lovingly, hugging your waist.

jude holds your bump, looking into your eyes and feeling your smaller hand interlock with his. “the greatest gift you could ever give me is this, thank you y/n,” jude says wiping a small streak from your cheek with his free hand. “i want to hold our baby now,” jude says along your lips. “patience jude, we have forever to cherish and hold our little one,” you peck his cheek and nose. “love you so much jude,” you kiss his lips slowly, relishing the memory that will forever hold your heart.

“also where did you find those small predator boots?”

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ynusername

liked by: judebellingham, gioreyna, jobebellingham, vinijr, tchuameli, brahimdiaz, audreylunin, yourbsf, yourbestie, others.

ynusername: yes rumors are true… patiently waiting for you angel 🥹🤍

comments:

judebellingham: couldn’t hold it in longer, you’re stunning baby 🤍

gioreyna: ❤️

jobebellingham: IM GOING TO BE AN UNCLE??? WHAT?? THIS IS HOW IM FINDING OUT?? 👎👎

↪️ ynusername: to be fair you’d probably spill the beans 😂🤍

yourbestie: BSJDJDJDUJD IM SO EXCITEDD 😣😣

username383: they’re going to be parents?? WERE GETTING DAD! JUDE???

user29: oh lord… i love this pregnancy announcement 🩷

sophiaamelia: congratulations beautiful! will be rooting for a boy!! how is duke taking it?? 😂💙

ynusername: ohh goshh he follows me everywhere i go 😭😂

↪️ judebellingham: he refuses to leave her side, i can’t even hug or kiss her without him barking at me 😒😒

↪️ gioreyna: LFMOAOSOS 😭

username1092: ISNDDNKSKSBBD HELLO WHAT?? THIS IS ONE WAY TO CONFIRM IT!!

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judebellingham

liked by: yourusername, realmadrid, gioreyna, jobebellingham, brahimdiaz, thiboutcortois, yourfriend, vinijr, aurelitchuameli, camavinga, 3,904,999 others.

judebellingham: not only have i been gifted with the most unforgettable gift, but i get to do this along such a strong and beautiful woman. y/n i love you so much 🤍

comments:

yourusername: JUDEEEEE 😣😣 stop i’ll cry and my hormones all over the place 💔

camavinga: congratulations bro ❤️

vinijr: HERMANOOO FELICIDADES!! ❤️

brahimdiaz: UN BEBÉ?? HERMANOOOOO FELICIDADES 🤍

gioreyna: so happy for you bro ❤️

user453: the way he holds her ☹️☹️

jobebellingham: i still can’t believe this is how i’m finding out??

↪️ judebellingham: you’re shit at keeping secrets jobe 😭😒

danicarvajal: enhorabuena jude! el regalo mas hermoso es esto ❤️

lukamodric: jude you’re so young 😂 congratulations golden boy! 😂🤍

↪️ judebellingham: thank you luka 😂🤍

nachofernandez: enhorabuena judey y y/n ❤️ nueva adición al equipo y familia!

username234: OMGG SHES SO BEAUTIFUL?? 😍

user49384: JUDE YOURE SO LUCKY 😣

userreee23423: she looks so stunning… like i will never get over this 😣😣😣

username9579: THEIR ANNOUNCEMENT HAS BEEN MY FAVORITE OUT OF EVERYONE!!! so happy for you two!!

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ynusername added to their stories!

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judebellingham added to their insta stories!

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ynusername & judeballingham

liked by: ynusername, judebellingham, gioreyna, jobebellingham, vinijr, brahimdiaz, camavinga, england, realmadrid, others!

ynusername & judeballingham: our bundle of joy has joined us and we couldn’t be anymore happier 🤍

comments are restricted!

realmadrid: enhorabuena jude y y/n!

england: congratualtions you two!

camavinga: congratulations! ❤️

vinijr: hermanoo felicidades !!! 🤩

gioreyna: you’re going to be great parents! congratulations you two! can’t wait to meet baby ❤️

jobebellingham: proud uncle! very happy! 💙

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[spurbleu]

mouth, reprieves ♛︎

[ken sato x afab reader]

S. Ken Sato is a bitter loser. And you are patient- if not a little giving.

warnings: mdni, blowjob

word count: 2k

࿓༚︎︎‧⁎︎✳︎⁎︎‧︎༚︎࿓︎

A pity bloated between your lungs.

The loss wasn’t significant, only by a point. But you supposed that’s what made it sting - the stain of ‘so close’ and ‘almost’ near wicked in the grooves of the bat hold, or the home plate- plastic patched in rifts of dust and dirt (hard to swallow, all of it). Its grief was visible- slumped shoulders and buckling knees stuck to the grime on their uniforms, the announcer’s voice coming in- static and lame.

“And that is a wrap for the Giants 3rd game of the season. First loss this year- what does it mean for the future?”

It rattled the stadium- the echoing disappointment. It folded in the gaps of the chairs, salting the air in a bitter, frustrated sigh. You were unsure if you wanted to join the chorus or curse it.

The memories seeped through- distinct. The pull of his lips when they met yours. The twitch of his knuckles when he held his liquor. His light heels after his last physical therapy session (when magnified- wings. Stamped on the bone of his ankle- fluttering- impatient). The thrum of his snore, thick with anticipation- and expectations (never met).

Kenji’s first game of the season- a loss.

You didn’t take the frigidity personally. You knew the clouds in his iris, the roll of thunder from the back of his throat and off his tongue, was just an indication he cared. The breakage of his indifference, esteem cracking through its steel walls. He had learned to remove blame from his teammates- but as a result the weight on the breadth of his own shoulders grew immense.

It simmered- his insecurities. Boiling beneath the thin patches of skin where he slid on his knees- tender and spiteful. Drives home were borderline silent, aside from the heavy breath against his philtrum and the shifting of his shirt as you rubbed the tense muscles connecting his shoulders. Sometimes, it felt like talking to a wall- resistant to reassurance- as if the letters in ‘you did just fine’ and ‘I’m proud of you’  were venomous (fearful of the gentleness in cyanide).

But it was how he was. Equally as accepting of praise as he was averse to it. A paradox at home base.

You stood on the balls of your feet, swallowing dry air in timid gulps, watching the entrance to the locker room doors. Other wives and girlfriends- some children- and family members stood there in tense guilt- hands itching to embrace the men in a hug that promise ‘next time’.

Eventually, the belly of the stadium spit the players out, slick in its drooly chagrin.

There was a drop to the regular sharpness of his cheeks, ending at the base of his lips- dry and cracked. His hair stuck to his forehead- wet with outlines from the notches of his helmet- which was tucked under his arm (it looked more like a burden than a prize- its frequent glimmer dimmed by dust). The valley under his eyes a depressing shade of plum- his eyes dimmer yet festering.

But it was his brows that exposed the loss of immunity. Pleats in the center of his face, furrowing so low, that if you weren’t close enough, they would have looked joint with the shadow they caused.

When he found you amongst the hushed comfort, the rigidity in his shoulders collapsed into a softer word, striding towards you like a kid who broke a window (baseball myth, but maybe you’ll let him live in it for now).

“H-“

He curled into in gap of your shoulder and your neck, arms lazily embracing the small of your back and pulling you into his chest. You felt the hairs of his brows sink deeper into your shoulder, his breath fanning on your collar bone.

Your hand came to fill its gaps with the tangle of his hair, palming his temples. This embrace was familiar- not because he lost often, but because you found it somewhere in every day. The mornings during breakfast, pillow talk under plains of insomnia, the after-sex glow. Touch tugged a heart string in you both, and although there was no proof, you swear you could feel his heart slow when it kissed yours.

(He made you a romantic, and even after years the shoe still feels too big)

You pull away, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He didn’t kiss you back, but you didn’t mind. It was more of a reminder anyway- a way for you to say I’m here.

“Let’s go home.”

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

Looking from a doorway in the movies always appears more tranquil than it actually is.

There is nothing peaceful about watching your partner blister under their own defeat. The bounce of his knee, a desperate attempt to relax the tension that mends his muscles to the bone. You, left in your own uncertainty, bit the bumpy flesh behind your bottom lip, legs flinching with the impulse to do.  

Comfort, rally, motivate. Your mind searched for a better plan of action in the rise and fall of his shoulders, as he scrutinized the recordings of the game in dim light under a magnifying glass (ants in summer heat).

The body talks. Yours was saying thousands of things at once- none resonating. Dry hands, calloused by hourglass sand and the gruff reality of your own exhaustion, would do nothing but stir him from his own brood then bring him deeper into it. Your mouth would say filtered words with little connotation, leaving you both in a spell that felt purposefully blundering.

Then a spark, somewhere lower than your hips. A blushing growth- spoke in deep tones of arousal and charity.

Alone, your hands and mouth proved useless.

But together…

You pushed yourself off the wide wall, shuffling over in your pajama set loud enough that he could hear you coming. He didn’t move, eyes still trained in silent remorse as he watched his tapes. Your heart dragged on the surface of your ribs- pity.

You came to stand in front of the television, reaching behind you and grabbing the remote before forcing his chin up with your other hand. His jaw rested on your curled fingers, vulnerable. His eyes looked burned at both ends, the wick of his iris without fire, or rebuttal.

You took a seat on his lap, wrapping your arms on his slumped shoulders. A beat, before he caved into you, pulling you into the crook of his hips. You molded into him, taking a moment to turn the television off, dowsing you both in a dark, somnolent ease.

You familiarized yourself with every version of this pose. In his lap, drowse eating at both of your guts, limbs pulling each other closer still. It wasn’t a planned routine- just comfortable. You’d heard the line ‘we were made for each other’ about a dozen times in different movies and books- and although you found it cliché- there was a truth to it.

Good love can be cliché. Done over and over because it feels right. Kenji- his arms and his heart- feel right to you and they always have.

(Again, he makes you a romantic).

“You were amazing today, baby.” You said into his ear. He huffed- but you took his grip on your thighs as encouragement.

You kissed his cheek, then his jaw, and with each purse of your lips you tried to make a point. “You are the best baseball player in the league,” you continued down to his neck, hands coming to rest on his collar bone, “one game doesn’t change that…”

You felt his throat rumble, and it took you a few kisses to realize he had spoken.

“Keep…going.”

Fuck.

It was embarrassing to be aroused when you’re supposed to be comforting someone, but God. The timbres of his voice, their effortless depth and coon, pleading you of all people to do more was enough to make you start riding his thigh.

You reminded yourself that tonight was about his pleasure, and your own would have to be on the back burner.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, cool flesh meeting his hot abdominal, twitching under your nails. You traced the shadows of his muscle, enjoying the mumble that shook his adams apple as you kissed under his jaw.

“You’re talented and everyone knows it,” down the dip between his collarbones, “you’ve carried the team and brought them together…” your hands made your way to his chest, where you could feel his heart beating under the grooves of your palm. Good. You tapped his shoulder from underneath his shirt, and he understood, immediately shedding the shirt and throwing it carelessly into the dark.

You continued down his stomach, sending occasionally glances up. His face was veiled in something rounder now- the earlier layers of woe and its harsh lines drawn by the furrow of his brow replaced by something a little more sanguine. It peaked from behind the whites of his eyes and glowed under the plush of his cheeks in a blooming pink.

You dragged your lips further down, navigating the narrow of his waist, “You’ve got a handsome face to match your wit,” you kissed the band of his sweats, before you curled the digits of your fingers over, peeling it back to reveal the near painful tent spring from the cotton of his boxers, “and…fuck your big…”

You swallowed, massaging the cusp of his cock, feeling as he curved his hips into your palm, a soft moan breaching the clench of his teeth. You looked up at him- beautiful in the light of his own rousing. His throat bobbled; words caught in his tonsils.

You didn’t need him to speak- you knew what they were.

You brought back to his boxers, cock slapping the underside of his stomach. He sucked a breath through his teeth above you- desperation in the discoloration of his bottom lip- bruised. The shroom cap was weeping your name in a pearl of pre-cum, which you massaged with your thumb. You slowly pumped his length in your hands, hand moving in slow, tight swells at the base of it.

You knew it well- you had felt it a dozen times over. The vein that crawled from its root on the right side- thick- spelling your name in morse. The deepened pink as it ran up to his tip, the glans warm in hot colors of desire. The velvet that patched its stiff underside was particularly memorized- molded in the walls of your cunt.

But there would always be that stutter in your breath- your body talking in haphazard beats- a need he fills to the brim. It wasn’t shock, it wasn’t admiration, but you settle for somewhere in between.

“You’re so strong- from your injury, to protecting the city,” if felt somewhat strange- authentic compliments paired with the pumping of his cock, the tip of his jaw and buck of his hips begged your fruition in low moans, “there is no other man like Kenji Sato…”

A gruff groan from the pit of his lungs made your own sex thrum with a familiar density, and you let a soft moan escape your own lips as you slipped them down his cock.

Hypoxia bloomed in the back of your throat- bright purple capturing oxygen. You let your maw clench and reel at the pressure- familiar but desperate for accommodation. Your breath came out in a single syllable against the base of him, nostrils flaring.

He moaned above you, the tremble of his ecstasy rolling down his shoulders and to the bridge of his cock, rattling your tonsils with an unflattering gag. His hands came to hold your hair, grip massaging the back of your scalp with a needy grip.

“Hah…shit…you’re too good to me…”

You bobbed your head in protest, tongue flattening to cup his front. Your fingers worked what your mouth couldn’t, fondling the sensitive bonds of his groin- slick in saliva. He let out a gruff growl, holding your head with a fatal grip- pushing you down to swallow more of him.

You held his thighs for balance you kneeled between them- tears pricking your eyes. You swear you feel him at the ends of your tongue as he rolled his hips into your mouth- hollowed cheeks to take the grit of him- avoiding grazing teeth.

You glanced up at him- met with the bend of his jaw- mouth open as he moaned your name like a mantra. It was so melodic- and for something so lewd it was sweet. Honied in the places that we were taught filthy- buried beneath the stickiness of arousal and sex was something warmer.

You sped up your pace- promising a song from him as you pushed your tongue to the roof of your mouth, tightening the plunge of your throat.

“Ohshit- fucking hell you feel so good baby…so good to me,” His ruts were becoming sloppy, breaking under the weight of his own overstimulation, “I’m gonna cum down that perfect mouth of yours…”

You loved him like this. Goo in your hands, the sharper edges of his jaw and his tongue softened when laid next to you. Saying your name like he’d forget it- hoping it brands into his flesh, maybe his bones. It brought your own weeping hole thrilling pleasure- the puff of your heart rapid.

Lost in rapture- the smaller moments and the forgotten words- somewhere in the craters of your bodies. You’d accepted it- becoming idyllic- eased into a life where love could mean so many things at once and all be right.

As in- the kiss goodnight is just as important as the blowjob after a loss.

You were made ugly- snot drippling down your lips in blunt weeps, tears wetting your lashes in asphyxiation. You were positive the round of your cheeks was rosed- glossed by the precum and spit that wetted your lips as you slipped up and down, tandem rhythm with his hips.

You could feel strands of your hair being ripped from the sensitivity of your scalp- his hands gripping hard enough it felt as though he’s trying to hold your skull. His moans were restless now, a wet and sickening chorus to the hymn of your nose hitting his stomach.

“Shit-shitshitshit oh fuck I’m cu-cummm uhmm…”

It painted the cave of your throat, the cap of your tongue, the roof of your mouth- ruthless. Filled your throat in hues of stress, lost to the compassion of your molars and the crest of your mouth. You could feel the excess ropes peel back the corners of your lips as it bubbled to meet his pelvis, which was still fucking your mouth in a noisy, orgasmic frenzy.

It slid from your fissure with a quiet pop, and you took his wrists, pulling them limply from your head as you stood, sitting back on his lap, softening cock resting behind your ass. You kissed his throat, feeling the shuddering breaths that fogged the air around you, catching his expression- knotted brows and tight nose- compressed in a vague expression of lust- and thanks.

You ran your fingers through his hair- kissing up to his ear, “I meant everything I said, earlier, y'know.”

You felt him nod shakily. “I know…sometimes I just like to hear you say it.”

You snorted- there he was. “Cocky bastard.”

He chucked, pulling you into his chest, smile soft against the indent of your shoulder. “Well, you had it down your throat.”

You pulled back, giving him his first real kiss of the night. Admittedly, it was to shut him up, but when he pulled you closer still, lips molding to yours in the way they always do, you both knew it was because you wanted to.

You pulled away, eyes opening to his face- lips pursed and eyes closed (adorably stupid, stupidly adorable- somewhere between the two) you laughed, pressing a kiss between his brows.

“Okay Mr. Romance let’s get you to bed.”

You began to slide off his waist before he pulled you back down, eyes open and revealing something much more earnest. The harsher edges of his face seemed to smooth over (rock eroded, calmed), and he leaned his head to your chin.

“Thank you.”

You sighed into his hair- deep down you wanted to say he didn’t need to thank you. But he had enough about him tonight.

“You’re welcome- my throat is going to be sore because of you.”

His head came up to meet yours, and you knew he was back when you saw his classic smirk pull at the corners of his lips. “Should I loosen it up again?”

You rolled your eyes, sliding off his waist before grabbing his hand and pulling him up. You wrapped your arms up to base of his shoulder blades and he returned the embrace, body molding to the shape of your front.

The sensitive part of you wanted to stay like this forever- pushing into him- held- safe. If you closed your eyes, you could, and somewhere in your forever you heard,

“I love you.”

[nhlclover]

𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: you return to your small hometown for the winter holidays, encountering your high school boyfriend, luke.

warnings: maybe the tiniest bit of angst, kissing

a/n: based on ‘tis the damn season’ by taylor swift. genuinely one of my favourite things i've written

word count: 1.49k

In your small hometown, the snow fell softly, blanketing the streets and rooftops in a pristine white. It was that time of the year when the air was filled with the scent of pine and the merry sound of classic Christmas carols came from every small shop that lined the streets. Among the locals, there was a sense of anticipation and excitement, but for you, returning to your hometown for the holidays brought a mix of emotions.

You had moved away right after high school, desiring more in life than what your hometown could’ve offered you. When summer had ended, you moved to LA, finding your way in the busy city. The fast-paced lifestyle and bright city lights drew you in and you knew that this was the place for you.

Being in school as well as working a job there, you found yourself not coming home throughout your four years of undergrad, but rather your parents coming to visit a couple of times throughout the years. There wasn’t much of a reason to come to your hometown. The only reason you ever liked home was a non-factor now. You hadn’t heard from him since the day you left.

But now, freshly graduated and working as a freelance photographer, you’re finding yourself overcome with a sudden wave of nostalgia, pining for the comfort of a small town. You let your parents know, booking a flight home for the winter holidays.

Now that you’re back home, you feel a bittersweet sentiment about it. Every familiar spot in town carried a memory that you unconsciously buried long ago.

Walking down the main street, you window shopped, admiring all the festive decorations and knick-knacks they were selling. You dipped into the familiar coffee shop, a small business run by the family of one of your former classmates. You go to the front counter, admiring the case of pastries in front of you.

The bell above the door rings as someone steps in, letting in a cold burst of air. You shiver as it hits it, pulling your coat tighter around your body.

“Hey Corey, how’s it going?”

The voice was unmistakable, as your gaze shifted to the right, revealing Luke's tall silhouette. While the years had subtly etched maturity into his features, his voice retained its distinctive cadence. The unexpected reunion prompted a shiver, exacerbated by the cold burst of air coming from the door opening.

Luke looked at the figure next to him staring at him, surprised to see your face. You were possibly the last person he would’ve expected to see. He would’ve been less surprised to see the Pope standing next to him.

“Y-y/n.” Luke says.

“Hey, Luke,” you replied, a genuine smile on your lips. The exchange hung momentarily in the air, both of you acknowledging the unexpected nature of the encounter. “It’s good to see you.”

It took Luke a second to respond, still a little stunned by seeing you back home. “Yeah, yeah it’s good to see you too.” He says, eyeing your outfit. “You look good.”

Your clothing was an indication of the years that had gone by, now wearing clothing he never would’ve imagined being in your closet. The only semblance of the girl he once knew was in your scarf. The rainbow colour block scarf was a familiar garment for Luke as he was the one who had bought it for you, long ago when you celebrated Christmas together.

“Thank you, so do you.” You smile. “You’re not a teenager anymore, you’re actually like a man now.”

Luke chuckles, the smile on your face sends a rush of warmth through his veins. Even though he'd told himself and others that he had moved on, seeing you now it was clear that you never quite move on from your first love.

“You got a minute to spare? I’d love to sit down and catch up.” You say.

Luke doesn’t hesitate to agree, even paying for your peppermint hot chocolate as he remembered how much you loved it. The two of you sit down by the window, Luke asking the first question.

“What are you doing back here?” He asks you.

You furrowed your brows, chuckling lightly. “It is the holidays, Luke.” You say.

“That hasn’t been a reason for you before.” He shrugs.

You let his somewhat spiteful comment roll off your shoulders, instead choosing to reply sincerely. “Missed home. Wanted to come back and visit for a bit.”

Sitting here, across from your high school boyfriend, the memories flood back. You remember being attached at the hip, spending as much time together as your parents would let you. You would go to nearly every home game, sitting with his parents and cheering from the stands.

He was nearly constant made occupied by hockey, but he still managed to make time for the two of you, staying up till the early hours of the morning talking on the phone if that was the only option.

As the minutes passed, the years faded, and for a moment you felt like you were back in high school, navigating the awkwardness of young love. The conversation unfolded, revealing the divergent paths taken since your last encounter.

“Now I’m playing in New Jersey with Jack.” He tells you.

“No way!” You say. When you and Luke were in high school, he always told you it was his dream to eventually play with at least one of his brothers. Seeing that one of his dreams had become a reality, you feel a rush of pride for him.

“Yeah.” Luke smiles. “It’s such a cool city. And the guys are great. Once upon a time, you would’ve gotten along so well with one of the guys Dawson.”

You scoff. “What do you mean once upon a time?”

“Well, I think high school you would’ve gotten along with Dawson. You guys are both goofy and make jokes at inappropriate times… But now I’m not so sure.” Luke explains. “I think you’ve changed.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh. You hadn’t changed…had you?

“I have not changed.” You argue. “Plus, it’s been four years since we last saw each other. You don’t know me anymore.”

A confident smile forms on Luke’s face. “Oh please. I can still read you like an open book.”

You shake your head, although you know that’s probably true.

“C’mon, I wanna take you somewhere.” Luke says, getting up and putting his jacket back on.

You don’t question him, instead putting your coat and scarf back on, the scarf you’d come to remember had in fact been a gift from Luke long ago. You get in his car, a fancy new BMW he’d purchased with his new contract, and head down the backroads of your hometown.

Eventually, Luke pulls into the familiar parking lot of the Methodist church that sits right beside your high school, disturbing the pristine blanket of white snow that covered it.

“Prove to me you haven’t changed.” Luke says.

He gets out, standing in the headlights of the car. You question what he’s doing as he’s suddenly down on the ground and you can no longer see him. You get out and go to the front of the car, seeing Luke on the ground making a snow angel.

You let out a hearty laugh at the 6’2” boy making a snow angel in front of you, snow flying around him as he swiped it away.

“The old y/n would’ve beat me to it.” He teases, sweeping the snow aside using his limbs.

You get down to the ground, beginning to copy Luke's motions. You ignore your leggings beginning to become drenched from the snow, as well as the possible damage beginning to develop on your leather jacket. A giggle escapes your lips as the falling snowflakes land on your cheeks. Luke joins in on your laughter, the joint melodic sound echoing in the parking lot.

A few moments later, the pair of you stand up to admire your snow angels, although you realize they don’t look much like anything. You spin and face Luke who is now only inches away.

“I haven’t changed at all.” You say softly.

Luke turns to you, admiring the way snowflakes sat delicately on your hair and eyelashes. Your rosy cheeks were a sign of the cold that Luke had yet to really notice he was feeling. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of your shared past and the beauty of the falling snow, Luke instinctively leans in.

His lips are so familiar to you, it’s as if the last four years of separation had never happened. Luke's cold fingers find your face, gently cupping it as yours grip onto his coat, holding him for balance.

As they stood there, back in each other's embrace beneath the gentle snowfall, it became clear that some things, no matter how much time had passed, were meant to find their way back to each other.

[devildom-moss]

April poll story

NSFW - Leviathan (yandere + degradation)

(Leviathan x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (slightly sub!Leviathan / dom!MC) (mutual masturbation; degradation for Levi; underwear stealing; pillow humping; no penetration; voyeurism; exhibitionism; olfactophilia; slight dacryphilia; jealous/possessive; slightly cruel MC) (yandere!Levi - but kinda light on the yandere)

Word Count: +2,600

Leviathan’s social battery had lucked out; he didn’t have any in-person classes to attend. He had some coursework to do online, but Levi had diligently completed it the night before in anticipation of getting to indulge in one of his favorite pastimes when he had the house to himself. And he was certainly in need of indulging himself today.

Usually, Levi was happy to not have to go to school, but the image of you walking to school with Asmo and Belphegor clinging to your arms while Mammon whined about it from close behind burned in his mind. Levi slammed the door shut behind him, seething with jealousy, as you all disappeared down the road.

Maybe his fantasies were too strong. Maybe it was all in his head, but it felt like you were supposed to belong to him – to be all his. No one else should touch you but him. He considered himself a gross shut-in, sure, but that only fed into his fantasies. Maybe he was so disgusting that his touch alone could taint you so that no one else would ever want you. Then, you’d have no choices left. You’d have to be his and his alone.

As the jealousy raged, Levi grew increasingly pent up. He quickly snuck into your room and located your hamper of dirty clothes. Right where it usually is, thank goodness. It was an awful habit of his: sneaking into your bedroom when no one was home and stealing a pair of your dirty underwear. He would always return them to the hamper after he was done with them – often slightly cleaner than when he had taken them – before you would do your laundry, so he had never been caught. Sometimes, when Levi wanted to get carried away, he would sink to his knees at your bedside and sniff your sheets, imagining all the things you might get up to in the middle of the night. Did you touch yourself often? Did you think about him at all when you did? Would you hate it if you knew how much he wanted you to use him to get yourself off? Other times, he would touch your personal items: innocent caresses over your pillows, holding your favorite shirt in his hands, tracing over the spine of the book you were reading last week. When he was feeling especially depraved, he might run his tongue along your toothbrush or grind his hips against your bath towel.

But today, he had only invaded your privacy to steal your underwear. I need this, he growled under his breath as he escaped to his room – too eager to even shut his door behind him. No one was going to be home for hours. Who was going to care?

Leviathan grabbed his body pillow and slipped your underwear onto them before tossing the pillow to the floor. The curve of his pillow was nothing compared to your body, but it would have to do. He sunk to the floor, hovering just over your underwear at the base of his pillow. A low growl left his lips as he picked up your scent. He couldn’t contain himself anymore.

Levi’s long tongue lolled out of his mouth and licked a slow, wet stripe along the crotch of your underwear as if he was trying to taste you. His tongue slipped beneath the fabric, licking and searching for any morsel of you he could get. Saliva coated the crotch on both sides, and Levi had spent nearly an hour and a half just licking and smelling your used underwear before he finally sat up. His jaw was starting to ache and the scent of you mixed with his saliva was intoxicating. He wanted – needed – more.

A stupid grin was plastered on Levi’s face as he bent back over, pressing his cheek to your underwear, and quickly slid his pants down just enough to expose his own underwear. He was hard and aching, with a prominent damp stain.

“Look. Look at what you’re doing to me, MC,” Levi whined against your underwear before placing a kiss over the fabric. He sat up and inched closer until he could rub his clothed cock over your underwear. It was almost as if he was dry humping you – or at least that was what he wanted to imagine. Each thrust of his hips was slow, deliberate, and needy.

Leviathan wasn’t known for his physical stamina, and yet, when he imagined fucking you, he could keep going – anything to savor the fantasy he had spend countless hours building up in his head. He could have easily dry humped that pillow for another half an hour, thinking about all the noises you might make if he was humping you instead. But his desperation was growing, especially as he imagined you enjoying your day without him. He needed to feel like he was claiming you even more, or he was sure he’d go mad with envy. So, he stopped – just long enough to discard his pants and underwear in the general direction of his gaming chair. Levi stared down at your underwear below him, admiring the way his saliva and the precum had managed to make a mess of them. He slid his cock beneath the fabric and started to thrust again.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, over and over as his thrusts picked up pace. He growled and moaned, rolling his head back. “I fucking own you.”

Unfortunately for Leviathan, his leisurely fantasizing was not going to go uninterrupted. You had been dismissed from school early – after your art professor had to cancel classes because “some cheeky bird-man had hell to pay.” Within minutes of the class beginning, every art supply in the room came flying at the professor. He had managed to dodge everything except for an old jar of dirty paint water that someone from a previous class had forgotten to dump out earlier. He was fuming and in desperate need of a change of clothes and an opportunity for revenge, so your class was cut short.

With little else to do at school, you returned home before the others and decided to head upstairs to shower – only to be stopped short at the top of the staircase by strange noises. It took a second to realize it was Levi. He was moaning, and you could hear creaking.

As you approached, you noticed that his door was open ajar. Against your better judgment, you peeked in through the crack to watch. His pillow was on the floor, and Levi was bucking his hips against it furiously, sweat dripping down his chest and the back of his neck. His movements were erratic – a sign of his desperation. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“So fucking good. You’re so tight for me. Take it. Take me inside of you, please. Please? Let me cum inside. Let me mark you. I’ll be yours forever. Fuck, MC, please?” Levi moaned.

You gasped at the sound of your name leaving his lips, and it was just enough to startle Levi and ruin his orgasm. He jumped up and covered himself with a nearby blanket. Only then were you able to see the underwear – your underwear, wrapped around his pillow and covered in pre-cum. Levi curled up on the floor, whimpering and hiding his face. This was it. Surely you were going to hate him now.

With a cruelly slow gait, you walked over to him, bent down, and whispered in his ear, “you fucking perverted creep. Were you thinking about cumming inside me? You’re sick.”

“Don’t hate me, please!” Tears pricked the corners of Levi’s eyes as a shiver ran up his spine. He looked up at you, fearful and desperate. Like an animal backed into a corner, he sprang into action, rushing up and slithering around you. He stood between you and the door, shutting and locking it behind him. “P-please hear me out. Listen. I – I’m so sorry. I just got jealous after seeing you with the others this morning. I won’t do it again.”

You had no reason to believe him – which would have been for the best, as he was lying. Still, something about the fear and desire in his eyes was getting to you, and it only made you meaner. You tilted your head and asked, “How many times have you stolen my underwear?”

“What?”

“You heard me: how many times have you done this?”

“I – MC, I . . .” Levi started, wondering if he could bring himself to lie again. A threat of hatred loomed in the air – so terrifying that it forced him towards honesty. He muttered, ashamed, “too many to count.”

“Dirty fucking slut,” you scoffed. “You disgusting shut-in, you can’t even tell me you want to fuck me? You just sneak around – slithering behind my back, stealing my things, and humping your pillow like a bitch in heat? You’re pathetic – lower than any snake in the deepest pits of hell.”

“I’m so sorry,” Leviathan whimpered in a tone aimed to prove your accusation that he was pathetic. He couldn’t even look at you. Instead, he stared down at your stained underwear. As ashamed as he was, he couldn’t help but get excited at how you degraded him. The fear and arousal stirred in his bloodstream, only to be overcome by his intense jealousy – a desperate need to cling to the idea of making you his. “I, uhm – I understand if you hate me, but please. I can’t let you leave until you forgive me.”

“Forgive you?” you laughed – cruel and mocking.

“Yes. I need you to forgive me.” You could see the shame tinting his cheeks a bright pink.

“Who said I was mad?” you laughed again – this time playful and sweet.

Leviathan’s eyes widened – shocked at your forgiving nature. He always knew you were an angel. Tears welled at the corner of his eyes again, and you took a second to admire how pretty he looked, crying and relieved to not be despised by you. Then, you grabbed another pillow from Levi’s tub and tossed it on the floor in front of the body pillow. Levi’s brows knit together in confusion, trying to understand what was happening as you stripped down to your underwear and straddled the pillow.

“Wh-what are you . . .?” He watched on cautiously.

“This is as close as you’re going to get to fucking me today, you sick little pervert. So, go back to what you were doing before.” You glanced between him and the body pillow. He hesitated. “Now, you disgusting creep.”

Levi nodded enthusiastically and quickly joined you on the floor. His movements were slow and nervous; you could tell that he was anxious to have you watch him. Even as he twitched in pleasure and leaked all over your used underwear, he was filled with inhibition. Instead of admitting that he looked adorable, shyly humping his pillow and trying not to stare at you, you aimed to embarrass him even more.

“Tell me what you thought about while you were using my underwear to get off,” you demanded, still rocking your hips into his other pillow.

“Why?” he squeaked out, humiliated. There was no way he could admit anything so embarrassing.

“Because I said so. What? Afraid I’ll find out what a sick, depraved slut you really are?”

Levi’s face flushed pink up to his ears as he mentally conceded. The words fell from him in excited whimpers, “I was – I think about making you mine – just mine. And – and that I could trap you in my room for days, fucking you, letting you use my useless cock for your pleasure until – until I’ve stained you. I-I don’t want anyone else to touch you. Every realm. I want them all to be repulsed by you so that you only have me. Just be mine. Be a shut-in with me forever.”

It was so easy to tell that Leviathan had read and written so many fanfics over the years. He had a mixture of desperation and yearning – as if it was the only thing sustaining his desires. Between his embarrassment and the feeling of grinding on his pillow, even you were starting to make a mess.

“What else did you imagine? Surely that’s not the only thing that horny, needy little head imagined, is it?” You encouraged him.

“No. I – I imagined what it must feel like to be inside you. I licked up your underwear, craving you, thinking about how good my tongue could make you feel. I like to smell it, imagining how hot your skin feels when you get aroused and – and what it would taste like. Please, I-I thought about uhm, kissing your ass and thighs until – ‘til you’re all marked up and staining all your clothes with my cum and not having to wash it out.”

You were getting close, and the submissive little moans that peppered Levi’s confessions only brought you closer. Somehow, Levi could sense it, and it made him jealous of his pillow.

“It’s not fair,” he whined. “Fucking my pillow right in front of me. I-I know I’m useless, but fuck. It makes me so mad and jealous, knowing you’d rather hump a pillow than let me fuck you or use my mouth to please you. Am I really that pathetic?”

“Yes,” you groaned, picking up your pace – half in response to his question and half in response to chasing your orgasm. The sad little whimper that left Levi as he arched his back and pumped his cum all over his pillow and your underwear pushed you over the edge. You continued to grind your hips through your orgasm before coming to a stop.

You were both left panting. After a few seconds, you gathered the strength to stand up. You got completely naked before grabbing your uniform and draping it over your arm. Levi watched you, eyes still glazed over with lust, but cautious, nonetheless.

“Well, I need to shower. Can I leave now?” You glanced over at the locked door, wondering if Levi was actually such a creep that he intended to keep you locked in his room.

“Y-yes. Sorry!” Levi scrambled up to unlock the door for you, stumbling through his first few steps. “Thank you. I’m sorry. Thank you!”

You laughed as Levi stood at the door, holding it open for you, naked and embarrassed, but polite all the same. He looked strangely refreshed in his humiliation, so you decided to push him further. “And just in case I’m wrong about how horny and disgusting you are, don’t wash those pillows tonight. You deserve to sleep with a pillow as dirty as you are.”

Levi’s blush deepened and he tried to hide the smile threatening to form on his lips. “Y-yes, MC. Th-thank you.”

“You fucking pervert.” You handed him your newly soiled underwear on your way out the door. Levi was too stunned to speak as you walked off into the bathroom. Tears formed in his eyes again as he shut the door behind him and brought the new underwear up to his nose. MC came in these. I bet I could taste it. Levi kissed and licked over the wet spot you had left, cleaning it with his mouth. He was already hard again.

But, as if you could read him like a cliché +18 manga, Levi’s phone buzzed. You had sent him a message.

MC: Don’t you dare start touching yourself again. Be good and stay hard all night, and maybe I’ll let you touch me in the morning.

Anticipation grew in Leviathan. He was almost jealous of tomorrow’s version of himself – the one who might get the opportunity to finally fuck you.

tag request: @denpa-dere

A/N: Sorry. It's a little late, but I hope you all will like it. I don't really know how I feel about it, so comments would be nice. I'm sorry I've been gone most of the month. I'll keep trying, but I don't know. I feel like I got my summer depression a little too early this year? Who knows. I'm trying not to force it too much.

That said, I did put up a poll for May. I love Asmo, so hopefully that helps a little. I'm not really sure.

[wood-white-writer]

"We Shall Be Monsters" [One-Shot]

— Enver Gortash x F!Durge!Reader (Baldur's Gate 3)

Pairing: Enver Gortash x F!Durge!Reader

Summary: Long before you became the Savior of Baldur's Gate, you were the Chosen of Bhaal; his unholy offspring. More than that, you were the Chosen of Bane's. There are memories beyond you grasp, forever lost in the oblivion of your mind, but he never forgot, as much as he yearned to.

Warnings: Explicit 18+ | Enver Gortash's POV | F!Durge!Reader (unspecified race or appearance) | Bhaalist-typical acts of violence and gore | Implied loss of virginity | Soft/Dom Gortash | Religious Themes | Bhaal Ideology | Self-flagellation | Gortash is whipped for Durge from the get-go | Gortash is a Freak | Pre-lobotomy Durgetash | Post-lobotomy Durgestarion (brief hint)

Wordcount: 7k

A/N: Guess who spent the last three weeks playing Resist!Durge, only to fall for this raccoon of a man? Apologies for grammatical errors, will correct them later. English is not my first language.

Enver Gortash had a revelation, presenting itself as a dream.

He was surrounded by darkness, wholly alone, when a deep and otherworldly voice spoke from the shadows. Whether it was instinct that compelled him or something else, he knew almost instantaneously that it was his God that spoke.

The Lord of Tyranny granted the mortal soul the title as his Chosen One; an honor beyond the kind the mortal world could ever hope to provide with. At the moment, it was far too grand for the mortal to properly acknowledge – a pinnacle of shame he would come to live with for years to come.

Just before the dream faded and the newly appointed Chosen of Bane returned to the material plane, he recalled his God’s parting words:

“Seek out the One whose path is paved with Corpses. The one who’s Who will build her castle with bones.

Seek out the Chosen of my Sworn Foe; his unholy offspring. Make an ally of her.

Do what is necessary to make the world bow before you, and when the time comes, do what must be done to ensure that my rule remains unchallenged.”

---

As it turned out, he had no need to spend any coin trying to scourge you out.

You sought him out instead.

The first time he laid eyes upon you, he found you almost disappointingly unremarkable.

Not in the sense that you were hideous to look upon. No, quite the opposite.

You looked normal.

Normal in a way that, had he crossed paths with you elsewhere – be it at a gala or across the streets of Baldur’s Gate – he wouldn’t have paid you much notice. Maybe offered you a drink and some pretty words, but little more.

Unsurprisingly, he had his reservations about whether you were truly the one he expected.

A Bhaalspawn– No, The Bhaalspawn.

The God of Murder’s very own Chosen Child – his flesh and unholy blood comprised into one singular being.

He had heard tales of you long before he met you.

He had anticipated to come face to face with a monster sprouting tentacles and rows of razor-sharp teeth, blood leaking from every orifice, and a wicked smile stretched across her lips.

Every bit the beast the stories and cautionary tales circling Baldur’s Gate portrayed your kind as.

Not this – someone who looked like they had simply wandered into the completely wrong place.

You were no monster - not at first glance, but he didn't quite know what to make of you. Even in the darkness, it was hour to make out your shape, and you didn't provide him anything to go by.

You were as silent as the evening itself.

Enver considered himself a perceptive man, taking every advantage he could reap whenever an opportunity presented itself. Whenever he happened to come across a potential ally or a new associate, his first instinct was always to read them; figure out the kind of person they were.

He could tell a lot from a person based on their initial demeanor. Were they the worrisome kind? The arrogant type? Self-assured in their position, or meek and subservient to those they considered their superiors?

Lickspittles or servants; equals or subordinates.

He believed he had come to know them all.

You, however, were a blank canvas.

There wasn’t a trace of blood on your clothes, not that he could tell. Not a wayward piece of flesh stuck between the white of your teeth, peeking out past your lips.

He couldn't even see something as menial as a smile.

Hardly the stuff of nightmares.

He couldn’t tell if it disappointed him or not.

However, the Archduke-to-be would come to realize his mistake the moment your eyes met, and all he saw gazing back at him was darkness.

Complete and utter blackness. Absence of light; of life.

Not even the depths of the Hells could compare, nor the shadows which made up Shar's domain. A black whole circling the universe.

You possessed the eyes of a killer, angled in a way that reminded him of knives searching for skin to sever, and they were aimed straight at him.

A shiver ran up and down his skin.

Oh, you were the real deal, all right.

He found that the smile that stretched across his lips was a genuine one for once, unlike the kind he typically displayed when first meeting a potential associate.

He clapped his hands together, suddenly eager to proceed with the introductions. “The Chosen of Bhaal, it seems we finally have the pleasure to speak.”

He took a few steps closer, mindful that you could probably mince him without any effort if he got too close. It was only then that he noticed the blade you kept strapped to your hips. Crimson as the blood it had undoubtedly spilled.

Your eyes maintained direct contact with his for a moment longer before they shifted to the window, not a smidgen of interest or … much of anything, really.

He tried to scrutinize you for any thoughts or feelings, desperate for some reprieve in the enigma that was your character. The moon would not permit him any clues, even as a blade of her light diagonally cut your face.

You were a blank slate, cold even from a distance; wholly indecipherable.

Finally, you spoke: “Chosen of Bane, Enver Gortash.”

He could not hope to conceal his intrigue. “Ah, it seems you already know who I am, then?”

You nodded, only once, like the conversation had already lost all appeal.

“And may I have your name in turn?”

“You have my title. It will suffice."

For now.

Ah, quick and precise. A lady after his own heart.

Just as he was about to offer you a glass of wine - for curtesy’s sake, of course – he looked back only to find your piercing gaze suddenly less than inches away from him, the Lash of Bhaal tilted dangerously close to his jugular vein.

It didn’t cut through him, though he could already tell it was a tempting thought on your part. Still, that didn’t keep you from allowing the blade to dance across his skin, cold and hot at the same time.

Sharp indeed.

A dance of death, with only a moment keeping him from Death’s cold embrace.

Enver fleetingly wondered what it would feel like to have his life claimed by Bhaal’s offspring. Would it hurt? Most likely, but it didn’t frighten him even half as much as it should have.

He had heard the reports of what remained of those who were unfortunate enough to find themselves on the receiving end of Bhaal's knives.

He had seen the detailed drawings and read in-depth descriptions Baldur's Mouth publicized, and while he was a skeptic towards the media's reliability, he had no doubt that they had spared no details when it came to your crimes. Children, women, men, it mattered not. Anyone with blood pumping through their veins could become a target, and he was no exception.

What would the headlines be?

"Aspiring Military Advisor found dead in his own chambers - The Cult of Bhaal strikes again!"

He imagined his blood would run warm down his skin, soak the imported fabric of his clothing, forever staining the expensive carpets beneath his feet.

Oh, what a sight it would be, should he be fortunate enough to remain conscious for only a few seconds long to see his execution through.

He instinctively held his breath, but all sense of fear and self-preservation evaded him, as it had done numerous times already. He could feel your breath upon his skin, scorching and acidic, yet he could find no trace of repulsion within himself. Instead, all he could focus on were your eyes.

So deep and hollow, like the expanses of Shar, but tenfold as captivating.

Oh, how the goddess would’ve wept upon being usurped.

Patiently, the Follower of Bane awaited your verdict. Truthfully, he had no interest in dying before this alliance came to fruition, however brief. Perhaps he could make an exception this once, if only to die gazing into those eyes of yours.

They contained a beauty meant only to be beheld by the dead or the dying, he discovered.

You tilted your head to each side as you studied him, like a cat inspecting the prey caught between their claws. The blade followed your as though it possessed sentience of its own, scraping against his neck in a manner he almost mistook for fondness.

Then, a sharp sting reverberated across his skin.

He suppressed the urge to wince.

A drop of his warm blood escaped through the cut you had inflicted on his chin. Not fatal by any means, but it would undoubtedly scar.

A scar worthy of a story.

Your eyes trailed down to the crimson liquid gathering on the collar of his shirt, and he could’ve sworn your pupils expanded to the edges of your irises. You took a deep breath through your nose, and upon releasing it, he found your face changing into something … thoughtful.

“You’re not afraid.”

There was no disappointment laced between your words. A hint of surprise, perhaps, but not disappointment.

Enver tilted his head to get a better view of you, the edge of his lip tugging slightly. “Does that offend you?”

You didn’t answer and withdrew the blade.

He might have said something else, but never got the chance to speak up.

In the blink of an eye, you were gone, like a wraith having returned back to their grave.

All that remained of your presence was the opened window that allowed the evening breeze to ruffle his curtains and the lingering scent of death he had grown intimately acquainted with.

As he drew his fingers over the fresh cut down his chin, feeling the warmth of his own life coat the digits, he could not keep a smile at bay.

---

It wasn’t until weeks later that he saw you again, in your natural habitat – for a lack of better description.

You were kneeling on the ground, covered in blood, viscera, and gore, like a devoted monk in the temple of their deity – begging for recognition.

Barely an inch of your skin was visibly underneath the many layers of blood that coated your flesh.

In a way, it felt like he was intruding.

When your eyes snapped to address him, it was like an animal seeing a potential threat. He couldn’t help but feel something stir in the depth of his chest, lodged between his ribcages like a raven yearning to break free of its chains.

Once more, it was in the confines of his chambers. He had retired for the evening, more or less hoping to catch a glimpse of his enigmatic new associate, when Lord Bane apparently saw fit to grant his loyal Follower the visage of his sworn foe’s daughter – completely naked at that.

You were beautiful.

Covered in blood from head to toe, the individual strands of your previously maintained hair separated by layers upon layers of bodily fluids, your clothing cast aside as if to merge yourself completely with the remnants of your prey.

It was like he was witnessing something he had no right to, but still being granted permission. This might have been sacred on your part, meant to be a private affair.

If you wanted to, you could kill him for this slight – if you considered it as such. You could strip him of his teeth, separate the layers of his skin, pull apart his bones, and place his corpse alongside the one you currently had positioned in front of you.

One of his servants, he realized shortly after. A young lady named Serah Lancastor, daughter of a nouveau riche lord who had entered his services not long ago.  

Whatever blood remained of her corpse had been spent drawing the Symbol of Bhaal. A tribute, perfected in the chambers of the Child of Bhaal’s adversary. It would have been the perfect sacrifice – an insult to Bane and a gift to your Father.

The Banite in him certainly would’ve considered this an insult of the gravest sort, deserving nothing short of a lifetime in Wyrm’s Rock, but Enver himself was more eager to finally get more than a few sentences out of you if he could.

“And here I was under the impression that our respective Lords were at a truce, or have I been misinformed?” He asked as he assessed her, arms crossing over his chest in a way that would’ve come across as self-assured.

You did not reply at first. As you got up to your feet, he could not help but notice that your movements were unsteady, like a foal fresh out of the mare’s womb.

“You were not mistaken,” you answered, your voice hoarse, and the Lash of Bhaal clutched tightly in your grip as you marveled at your masterpiece.

“Oh? Then, pray tell, what reason could you have for killing one of my servants – in my chambers, no less?”

You regarded him stoically. “The woman poisoned your wine.”

An assassination attempt? How ambitious. “So, you killed her for my sake? Considerate for a Bhaalist, wouldn’t you say?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Your usefulness would expire upon your premature death, Banite. The servant maintained hers after.”

His gaze flickers between you and the corpse for a few moments, thoughts washing over his head. It would seem that – despite your inherent nature – your urges were not without cause. Not wholly, at least.

This meant, for the time being, you would have no reason to kill him unless you saw any benefit from it. He would live for as long as the alliance between your Gods did.

Did it vex you, knowing you could not satiate your hunger for blood just yet?

Did it intrigue you? Did you sleep at night, dreaming of the day you could finally add his name to the long list of your victims?

So many questions and only one knew the answers. Only one could answer them.

But he was in no hurry to receive them.

“There’s a bath in the back, should you feel the need to use it.”

“Does the blood disturb you?” you asked, almost hopeful.

“No," he admits truthfully. "but I imagine it would be difficult leaving this place like that. The servants would be frightened – as they should be – and the guards would be on your trail in an instant. Why not spare yourself trouble when you can afford it?”

You continued to stare at him like he was a puzzle to be solved, and he granted you all the time you required before you finally reached your verdict. With the flick of your blade, and drops of blood splattering across his floor, you turned around and made your way to the bathroom.

Enver was not a salacious man by nature, despite what the Baldur’s Mouth would imply, but even he had to admit – it was a lovely view.

Alas, there was the matter of explaining the unfortunate fate of poor Serah to the cleaning staff …

---

He didn’t see you again for quite sometime after that, and although he’d never admit it to anyone in person, he’d grown accustomed to the way each of your previous visits had left his adrenaline surging through his veins.

To be without it was proving … tedious.

There were reports of various murders committed in the Lower City, some more grotesque and messy than the rest, but he could already discern yours from anyone else’s.

Your kills were methodical; and pragmatic. You didn’t waste time decorating your victims with their innards or putting them up to become a spectacle for the rest of the poor denizens in Baldur’s Gate to find the following morning.

Whoever was responsible for those murders was… wasteful.

It couldn’t have been you.

While Enver was parading about to the many lickspittles and politicians, his mind always shifted back to whether he would open his chamber doors and be greeted by you standing there in the dark. He could care less if you were covered in blood or not, as long as you were there.

What would you do?

Finally make an attempt on his life?

Kill another one of his servants?

He'd give you ten of them.

He had enough at his disposal, he’d be more than willing to pay the cost if it meant getting another chance to peer into those acute eyes of yours one more time.

But when he retired once more to his chambers that night, he was disappointed to find it vacant. Not even a corpse was there to greet him.

---

He sent a letter.

Not a long one, but one he was sure would reach you, and sure to pique your interest if his mere presence failed at that.

It regarded the House of Wonders – more specifically, what the House itself contained.

He had waltzed through the halls there on several occasions – attended galas and gatherings hosted by the city’s elite, and he’d seen what rested behind their meager display cases.

Remnants of your history: Bones of fellow Bhaalspawn, ancestral instruments that deserved more than to be poised up for show. The people of this city exploited these instruments as a sign of peace. To know that – if one Bhaalspawn could be felled, they all could.

But you were not the kind to fall so easily as your brethren did.

At first, he was doubtful his message would reach you, but when he found you standing in the corner of his room not even two nights later with the messenger’s severed head positioned on top of his work desk and his letter tucked between what remained of the boy’s teeth, he grinned.

You, however, were evidently not in the mood for idle chatter.

The moment he shut the door, your eyes were once more on him. “Speak.”

And so, Enver did.

He had already planned the groundwork: how to get in and out without alerting the guards, and successfully make away with the torture racks using a Scroll of Dimension Door. It was child’s play, really. The House’s security had dwindled in the last couple of years, and for once, it served him well.

As he laid out his plan for you, taking out the House’s blueprints to further emphasize the brilliance of his mind, he maintained your attention long enough for him to deduce that you were interested.

When he was finished, he turned back to you, patiently awaiting your verdict.

Your eyes flickered between him and the blueprints before they finally settled on him with the same sharpness he had grown to appreciate.

“Tomorrow, at 11 o’clock,” you answered, shortly. “Do not keep me waiting.”

At that moment, Enver could’ve wept with joy.

---

The Heist was a success.

Truly, only the damned Devil’s death could’ve surpassed the satisfaction Enver felt the moment they escaped.

Not only had you two been successful in infiltrating the House of Wonders and making away with the instruments unscathed, but he got to watch you doing what you did best from the front rows.

There were guards there, more than a few, but not even five seconds after they made their debut, screams were reverberating through the halls of the House to the point where the Banite could feel the tremors through his very bones.

There were possibly ten or fifteen guards in total, and you killed them all.

Killed them?

No, that’s too undignified of a word to apply to your craft.

You remade them entirely.

There was so much blood, screaming, and bones being pulled apart from the stems, that he didn’t have the capacity to focus on it all at once.

Blood rained wherever you went.

The One whose path is paved with Corpses.

They were dead long before you ever touched them, he knew as much. One after the other, they all fell until all that remained was a pool of blood gathering under the soles of his shoes.

It was like you were dancing.

You were a monster.

Oh, but what a beautiful monster you were.

In the end, there were no more screams. You stood there in the middle of the circle of death you had just made, blade in hand, clothes soaked thoroughly and clutching to your skin. It seemed like you were on another plane of existence entirely, your mind not your own for a moment, no word brushing past your lips.

All he could hear was your shallow breathing in the aftermath of the chaos you had created.

And when you finally glanced over your shoulder to look at him, your face smeared with the liquid life of those around you, eyes lifeless and cold, Enver could deny it no longer.

Not to himself, not to you, not even to Bane.

“You’re beautiful.”

The way in which he said it was unbefitting of an Archduke-to-be, much less a Banite, but damn it if his pride was not worth this moment of admiration.

For just a moment, he detected a glimpse of something different in your eyes when he spoke that confession. Something he had never seen before. For once, it was not hidden underneath layers of indifference or antipathy, not even perverse satisfaction. It was bare and vulnerable like a snake having shed their most recent skin.

You looked… Surprised. Shocked.

Flustered?

You opened your mouth to say something, but then for some reason, you shut it just as quickly. He had never seen this manner of indecisiveness with you before, and it felt like he wasn’t supposed to.

Still, he couldn’t will himself to look away, to be denied the view of you being anything other than Bhaal’s Chosen.

Then, you finally spoke, and it was so hushed that he almost strained to hear it.

“Enver Gortash … You’re something else.”

He caught the glimpse of something tugging on the edge of your lips. Not quite wide enough to qualify as a smile, but the closest thing he had seen thus far on your countenance. He expected it to be of the perverse kind – the smile of a killer, satisfied with their recent excursion in the name of their Father and Lord.

But it wasn’t.

At least, it didn’t seem so.

Whether it truly was the amount of deaths surrounding you or what he’d said, he didn’t have time to deduce before the bells began to ring in the distance, and their heist came to an end.

Even so, he could not shake off the mental picture he took of that moment.

It was scorched into his brain forevermore. He could try to scrub it as much as he wanted, it would never leave.

Nor did he want it to.

The Heist was indeed a success – but not for the reasons he initially believed in.

It signified the night he finally got to see you, if only a brief glimpse of it.

---

It was as if the Heist with the House of Wonders further cemented your respective alliances, for better or for worse.

On one hand, you began to seek him out more, as he oftentimes found you already waiting for him in the dark of his chambers as per usual. The two of you spent the majority of your time discussing how to advance your plot, while simultaneously attempting to avoid the missteps of your predecessors.

After all, you aimed towards a fruitful alliance, and to sully its potential too early would be a waste on both accounts.

Fortunately, it seemed like you had decided to keep the number of deaths in his quarters at a minimum, for the most part. Whether it was for your inconvenience or his own (his servants had begun to grow disturbed by the piling numbers of deceased in his room), he could not tell.

On the other hand, there was the matter of both Ketheric Thorm – the Chosen of Myrkul – and your second-in-command – Orin the Red.

The geriatric and the child, as he mentally preferred to refer to them as.

Ketheric was at least useful to some extent. His obsession with reviving deceased family members was a thorn in Enver’s side, but not without its advantages.

Orin, on the other hand, was a migraine from the moment he was introduced to her. Admittedly, she looked more the part of the Bhaalspawn he had expected to encounter before being introduced to you. Stained in blood, colorless eyes akin to a corpse, giggling and shouting at the turn of a coin while waving around a blade much like a child would their precious toy.

In the name of Bane, he was fortunate it was you he had had the pleasure of meeting instead of her that night. Having Orin as the Leader of the Cult of Bhaal would’ve made eventually cutting this alliance much easier.

You knew how to dance hand-to-hand with your blade.

Orin merely toyed with hers.

---

With how often you frequented his office nowadays, Enver began to suspect that you were neglecting your Cult in your absence. Not that he ever brought it to your attention, he simply pointed it out to himself.

For the most part, you would stay and discuss his plans with him, still never speaking more words than you deemed necessary. If there was something you didn’t agree with, silence would remain your answer until he figured out the source of the problem. You were incredibly smart, he’d be a fool to deny that.

But with more time, he discovered that your brilliance was not the only reason he wanted you to stay.

With every session you partook in together, he swore he could see your face softening ever so slightly. Every gesture became more relaxed, and you ceased to pull away from his proximity. There were times when he could put a hand on your shoulder, even brush a wayward piece of hair away from your face without you threatening to spill his innards.

He took his victories in small measures.

Then one evening, he found you inside his chambers, only that you weren’t making standing now as you usually were when awaiting him.

Instead, you were perched in the alcove of his window. While your blade was clutched tightly in your grip, your eyes were closed, and the manner in which you sat seemed almost … peaceful.

Were you resting?

The second he closed the door, your eyes shot open, and he quickly found your blade pressed against his neck. It likely would’ve killed him had your eyes not fallen onto him in time.

He blinked. “… Good evening?”

You blinked again, recognition falling over your features, and sheathed your weapon.

Unperturbed by the most recent attempt at his life, Enver proceeded over to his desk. “Apologies for disturbing your rest,” he said, and what surprised him was that he meant every word of it.

It sounded like you were struggling to come up with a proper response. “I wasn’t resting.”

“Oh?” He glanced over to where you were previously not-resting, intending to make a subliminal point, when he noticed something.

Your previous seat – the layers in his window alcove – were drenched with blood. He initially suspected you had a corpse stowed away somewhere for him to find, but with a quick glance across his rooms, he found none. You never hid your kills, not from him, and upon turning back to you, that’s when he discovered that it was the back of your clothing that was drenched.

It wasn’t anyone else’s blood.

Just yours.

And no shortage in amount, either. It was dripping from the edge of your coat, staining the expensive carpets he as of five seconds ago couldn’t care less about.

His first instinct compelled him to investigate, all while maintaining the façade of complete composure. You were no mere person. You were a Child of Bhaal, you had no equal on the battlefield as far as he knew. Even the mightiest foes fell victim to your blade, regardless of their race, height, or armor.

The only one who could prove strong enough to even get close and inflict this amount of damage on you would be …

You.

A warmth encompassed him, foreign to his inherent nature. Warmer than the fires of hell, twice as scorching; twisting and clawing under his skin like desperate souls in search of freedom, but not even all the gold in Raphael's vault could tempt him to be rid of it.

“You’re injured,” he concluded.

“I heal fast. My Father’s blood ensures it.”

“An admirable and useful trait, but judging by how much you’ve already lost, I would say you’re still at risk until you’re healed.”

“Of dying?”

“Nothing as dramatic, I doubt. My furniture, however, is at risk of being stained beyond repair at this rate. Do your friend a favor and let me assess the damage, then.”

Your body stiffened.

“Is that what we are? Friends?” you asked, one eye looking over your shoulder to pinpoint his exact location.

He looked at you in turn. “Do you wish to be?”

You said nothing in return, but there was no sharpness to your gaze. No perceived slight at the casual words he permitted to come out of him. It felt like you didn’t know what to make of this, and he was in no hurry to make his meaning plainer.

Rather than waiting for a verbal response, he gestured to the stool by his bedside and headed to his bathroom to retrieve what little he possessed of healing balms, a washing bin full of water, and bandages. He usually had people for this kind of matter, but he doubted you would feel inclined to accept help from strangers when you scarcely permitted it of him.

He returned to find you seated, your upper clothing already discarded on his bed, with your bare back presented to him.

Enver Gortash had seen his fair share of the grotesque, whether it was from the Hells or in the city. He believed himself numb and desensitized to such; he never had a problem dishing it out himself.

Yet somehow, the sight of your back – borderline skinless with how marred your flesh was, blood already starting to coagulate across the edges of each cavern, made him pause for a moment. Anyone else would’ve died had they suffered the same injuries, but you were not anyone else.

If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Hells, he wouldn’t have allowed them the liberty to sit here, partially naked like a disgraced courtesan, and offered them his assistance. He had seen you naked already, but not like this.

But with you … He’d be willing to make an exception.

He discovered that he would be willing to make a lot of exceptions.

Folding up the hems of his sleeves, he began the process of wiping off the excess blood. He imagined that the salve in the water would sting, possibly hurt, but he warranted no reaction from you. Not a wince, not a moan, not a single sound. Your skin was cold, like the corpses you created, but soft in spite of the state you were in.

The basin soon turned red with the remnants of your life’s essence, and he imagined that – were it true that Bhaal was in your blood – the God of Murder would’ve surely found it affronting to have drops of him wasted in a washing basin.

As he began to dry the jagged edges of your self-inflicted wounds, he couldn’t keep the question that was nagging him at bay.

“Why?” he asked quietly.

“Repentance.”

His eyes furrowed. Why would Bhaal’s favorite child – the one he had personally witnessed commit massacres in the name of her Lord – be required to repent? What could someone as devoted as yourself have to repent for? “For what?”

He received no answer in turn. All he gained was a look over your shoulder, one that quietly requested that he didn’t delve deeper into the matter.

You could’ve demanded his submission with pain.

You could’ve turned around and forced his head into the blood-mixed water, held him down until he was all but begging for the sweet relief of death.

But you didn’t.

So, he didn’t delve deeper.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend,” you murmured.

Enver smiled as he applied the balm to your skin. “Then I would be honored to be your first.”

---

He began to make note of the things you liked.

---

You liked blackberry, he discovered that when he left a bowl of them unattended on his desk - a gift from an associate overseas.

He returned to find the bowl near-empty, and the window open.

After that, he made a public announcement that blackberries were his favorite flavor, and although he received plenty of gifts from admirers and lickspittles alike, he never indulged himself.

The gifts were always gone from his chambers come morning.

———

You preferred the sound of the violin to the piano.

Whenever he hosted gatherings, he would insist on having the violinists perform the longest, if only to catch a glimpse of you hiding somewhere no one could spot you.

———

You never slept - you claimed to have no need for it

But every so often, while he was working on his desk, he would catch you closing your eyes and rest with your back against the wall.

———

“So, what do you think?” He swirled the wine in his glass before taking an appreciative sip. Imported recently from Neverwinter, a batch from 1359. Perfectly aged, and perfect for an evening such as this.

You looked skeptical at the drink in your hand from the opposite side of the table, internally weighing the pros and cons before finally taking a tentative sip. To his delight, you did not look disgusted, which meant that you were pleased.

He knew you would like it.

“Your verdict?”

“It’s sweet.”

“It’s composed of Blackberry syrup, quite popular in the region and a personal favorite of mine. Unfortunately, not many of my associates seem to share my taste for the beverage, so I’m fortunate that you do.”

“Do you wish me to kill them?” you asked, completely serious.

He grinned and rested his cheek atop the knuckles of his free hand. “While I can appreciate the gesture, I’m afraid that I need these particular associates alive for now. When their usefulness eventually expires, I’ll be sure to send word for you.”

You nodded in acquiescence and took another sip of your glass.

The both of you drank for a while longer, and while your conversations felt rather one-sided on his part, you listened and supplemented when you saw fit to it.

At first, the subject varied from different aspects of your plan regarding the Absolute, who to kill, and so forth. Then, when the liquor seemed to loosen both of your tongues, the subjects delved deeper. Deeper than they ought to have, but none of you felt the need to correct this error.

“What is your name?” he finally asked. He had wanted to ask that question for a while now – since the moment you first met – but you had never indulged him.

Maybe now, you finally would?

You tilted your head slightly to the side as you assessed him. “Does my title not suffice?”

“A title is one thing, but a name is another,” he explained, releasing his glass on top of the table to focus completely on you. “There have been other Bhaalspawn before, though never one such as yourself. I believe that requires a designation on your own.”

The way you peered at him, sent a warmth to his cheeks that he could not credit the alcohol for. Those eyes, the very ones who looked so hollow and lifeless, now had a certain glow about them that captivated him like a moth to the moon.

You glanced out the window for a moment, and he could faintly hear you whisper something he doubted was meant for his ears.

(“Forgive me, Father…”)

Then, you gave him your name; ushered it like a secret that was meant for him, and only him.

At that moment, Enver Gortash realized that he was willing to forsake it all.

Forsake Bane.

Forsake his work.

He would gladly toss it all away, if only he could keep your eyes on him at all times, to speak your names as many times as he desired.

At that moment, there was nothing more he desired.

Well, almost nothing more.

There was one thing.

As if all effects of the liquor had abandoned him, he got up to his feet and walked over to your side. The blade you had previously put aside found its way back to your hand with his guidance, and he helped up get up to your feet.

With little care, he buttoned his shirt down, exposing his chest to you; his skin, his flesh, all bare for you to indulge in as you pleased.

There were question marks aligned in your eyes at the gesture.

“Cut me.” His words were soft enough to be perceived as a request, but there was no room for negotiations, not this time. You had displayed painful self-control in his presence, never harming him since you first met.

Now, he was permitting you to do what you had undoubtedly denied yourself all this time.

You could kill him – sever his link to the mortal plane, dig out his heart, and eat it if you wished to. You had his permission, if only you could make him last long enough to see you smile once again.

You had only smiled once in the time he’d known you, and it was because of him.

Maybe his death would bring you a greater joy?

He’d hope you would smile for him one last time.

He felt the blade pierce his skin, but not deep enough for it to leave lethal consequences. A prolonged line from the right side of his abdomen up to his left shoulder. That’s all it left, hardly enough to be considered a tribute to your father’s name, but your pupils grew wide all the same.

With his hand circling your waist and pulling you closer, Enver forced your face into his blood-stained chest. “You have my scent,” he whispered into your ear. “Now have my taste.”

He did not have long to wait before he felt your nails piercing holes through the fabric of his coat, leaving crescent-shaped indents on the skin of his back as you pushed yourself tighter into him. It was near-suffocating, but Hells, if it wasn’t euphoric.

Your teeth on his chest came next, sharp and merciless – predator tearing into the carcass, like you wanted to devour all of him. Your tongue slid across the length of his scar, drinking in every drop of blood he could offer at the moment. It hurt, it stung, and it ached, but whatever blood his body could afford to spare went south on record speed.

It all dawned on him, then, in a moment of euphoric ecstasy

Why you were always covered in fresh wounds of your own making whenever you went to see him.

Why you were always murmuring prayers when you thought he couldn’t hear.

Begging for forgiveness from your Father – For your God.

It was all because of him.

For all the troubles he had unintentionally caused you, it was only fitting that he compensate for it, right?

When you finally pulled back, lips drenched with his blood, you looked absolutely beautiful.

“Tell me,” He clasped his hand to the side of your face, his voice hoarse with pure, unadulterated want. “How do I taste?”

In your dazed state, so content and so nourished by the essence of him, only one word pushed past your lips:

“Sweet.”

He claimed your lips in an instant, tasting himself on your tongue – Harsh and unyielding, and you matched him with equal vigor. To anyone else, the two of you would’ve resembled two animals in the midst of a fight, or a rut.

What others would say if they knew, he cared little for. His God could cast him aside for this wicked sin, and he’d accept it with a self-satisfied smile as he walked backward to the Hells. He wanted to taste every part of you, savor every piece you would grant him, and let you taste him in turn.

You bit and you clawed, shedding his blood, tearing at it skin.

A lesser man would have found it repulsing.

A lesser man would have pushed you away, redressed himself, and left.

But Enver Gortash was not a lesser man, and all you did to him, it only added to his eventual undoing.

Your skin was surprisingly soft against his, for all your scars from years of service to your God. The sounds you made as you came undone, be it by his fingers or his tongue, he could never hope to tire of it. For someone who never spoke much, you sure compensated for that with the unholy moans and snarls he earned.

Just before he entered you, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, he could detect the faintest flicker of … fear? Hesitation? He did not have an estimated answer to the cause of this, but he did have his suspicions.

Before establishing the foundation of your friendship, he had noticed how you would go out of your way to avoid physical touch unless it was you who initiated it.

Of course, that boundary was cast aside when it came to reaping lives, but it seemed that in this particular instance, it was different.

Had you never known such pleasure?

Never allowed yourself to feed? To indulge?

Did your God only permit you to touch something - someone - as long as it resulted in death?

A gnawing began to tug at his bones.

He did not think you would care much for gentleness, nor did he ask you to clarify, but he was still measured with his intrusion and quickly discovered that you were tight. You left him breathless, and he in turn provided the same.

His suspicions were correct.

What a slight Bhaal would consider this; to know his precious offspring was defiled by no other than the Chosen of his Sworn Foe.

Enver was not a petty character - he was more dignified than that, but just this once, he was willing to spite the God of Murder.

Not that it’s was a point of focus to him.

With some adjustment, he searched your face for hints and signs that he could proceed. Where your voice fell short, your eyes provided. If you had objections, you did not voice them, but he made sure to commit to every act necessary for you to call out to him - not Bhaal, but Enver Gortash.

He learned what place made you sing to him. Made you scream his name.

And you did – several times.

He made sure of it.

And he called out yours.

---

By the time you were done, the bed was a mess, and you both looked like you had just narrowly escaped a chance encounter with death.

In a way, he had.

“Enver,” you called into his chest, your arm wrapped in a bruising hold around his stomach.

“Hmmm?”

“A friendship with you … has its uses.”

He almost laughed and wrapped his arms around you in return. “Care to elaborate?”

“You do not taste foul.”

He could live with that.

In fact, he wanted to live with that.

With you.

You would leave for Moonrise Towers soon, and your plan would come to fruition. Ketheric would fall – Orin could too for all he cared. The world would be at your feet, and you would both reign as Gods over the rest. There was no other he would rather share it with, save for the only one he considered his Equal.

Nor would there ever be anyone else.

This he swore to all the gods that would listen, - to Bhaal, to Bane, to Myrkul.

Enver swore it.

If the world considered you monsters, then you could be monsters together.

---

The next time he sees you, it’s months later, and you’ve changed.

You’re not alone this time, as much as he preferred it so.

A vampire stands beside you, looking awfully grateful and smug about being in your proximity – a hand on your hip for emphasis, unintentional with the spite aimed towards the Archduke. Gortash finds that he wants to squeeze out whatever blood is left in him just for breathing the same air as you.

There’s Duke Ravengaard’s wayward son, looking a little devilish as of late with the addition of two horns glued to his head.

Then there’s Karlach. He makes it a point to ignore her glare.

He has no interest in your companions.

What he does have is an interest in you, even if he can tell the feeling is not mutual. Not anymore. There’s that sharpness in your eyes, the one you always harbored before towards him, then ceased to.

Now it has returned, only it feels tenfold as cold compared to before.

“Shall we be allies?” he asks after making his proposition.

Shall we be friends again?

Silence, once more, remains his only answer.

It seems you were the only one who received the benefit of forgetting.

He never did.

Not once.

[kindasleepywriter]

The way to a droid's heart (Cal Kestis x BountyHunter!Reader)

Based on this wonderful request. Always open to hearing more ideas!

Summary: Cal demonstrates what happens to those who mess with you. Warnings: Implied and explicit threats, that's about it Word count: 2.9k

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never understood how Cal Kestis was still alive. When you had met him 6 years ago, you’d been just as idealistic and adventure-seeking as he was. The years that followed, however, had changed you and shaped you for survival. Dreams didn’t get you very far, not in the galaxy like this one.

You’d quickly lost hope of ever becoming a fighter pilot when you’d realized the few rebel cells were dropping like flies, all at the Empire’s hand. One lone pilot wouldn’t make a difference out there, you’d concluded, and from that moment you’d just tried not to end up as space rubble like your parents. You’d ended up as a bounty hunter instead, a damned-good one, and you took what joy you could while chasing bounties all over space.

Cal, on the other hand, never seemed to lose his ambition of defeating the Empire. Not that he’d ever told you that’s what he was doing, of course, but only a space slug could’ve been so blind as to not see it. He wasn’t exactly being subtle, making no effort to conceal the weapon at his side and giving his real name to anyone who might have asked. His ever-growing collection of scars didn’t portray him as a man who sat around waiting for change, either.

Perhaps you’d ask about them, one day.

--

You watched from the far end of a bar you’d never tried learning the name of, as a stoned-faced Pantoran you didn’t recognize spoke with Cal. You couldn’t quite hear their conversation but, with the way BD-1 had whizzed in boredom for a good 10 minutes before scurrying off to scan whatever he could find, you could deduce they weren’t exactly talking about their latest game of holo-chess.

You turned back to your drink, flipping up your hood and shaking your head softly at the man’s persistence. On the move, as always.

You were starting to come to terms with the fact that your contact wouldn’t be showing up. You’d already sighed watching your watch more times than you could count, annoyed at the inconvenience of flying so far into the outer rim for nothing. It had been a pain negotiating your meeting too, the contact insisting on you being alone with no weapons. You’d eventually faked giving in, choosing to keep your rifle and pistol on board your currently broken down S40K and instead hiding vibro-blades inside your boots.

The ship was already on its last legs when you got it, the only reason why you’d been able to pay, but the years had caught up with it in the last two months. You spent almost all of your money on maintaining it in the air, and you were running out of funds fast.  The anticipated need to buy another cheap but more reliable hunk of metal was what had caused you to pick up another bounty only a few days after your last.

Normally, you liked to spread out jobs over a few weeks to enjoy the credits you made, but the sputtering of your engines when you’d crash landed into this city’s landing dock had made clear you couldn’t afford the luxury this time.

You were nearing the bottom of your drink, trying to plan a way off this planet without mounting any more personal debts to anyone, when you felt a small nudge at your right foot. You looked down, expecting to see some rodent or pest trying to eat through your sole, but were instead met with a little red and white hyperactive droid.

You scanned the room quickly to make sure no one was looking, and stretched a hand in his direction so he could haul himself up onto the cushioned booth. He didn’t hesitate to scramble up your arm, emitting a few whizzes and beeps of thanks on the way.

“Hey, beedee,” you greeted him flatly. “Thought I finally managed to evade your scans this time; guess I was wrong.”

A low whistle and a trill.

“I know, I know, you see everything. It’s hard to forget when you always choose to remind me at least twenty times every time you find me.”

He emitted a series of approving noises, and you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. Where he’d gotten that attitude wasn’t a great mystery. He jumped on one foot, nudging at your coat’s pockets with the other, his eyes going in and out of focus audibly as he searched for god-knows-what.

You tsked. “Will you stop that!” you chided and swatted him away like you would a cat. “Yes, I brought you something from my last job, stop assaulting me for a minute and let me find the damn thing. And you better not tell your dad, I’m not letting him think I’m a softie just because I keep entertaining your crow tendencies.”

Suddenly the picture of good manners, the droid sat and wiggled his legs as he sent you a sweet melody. Manipulative little shit, you thought affectionately. He was annoying as could be, but the little guy was cute.

You fished out a shiny piece of silver metal from your breast pocket. You had made sure not to lose the small leaf-shaped brooch, the perfect gift for BD-1. Your last bounty had necessitated infiltrating an Imperial event, and you’d found the piece while snooping through an officer’s desk. You’d never been so happy to have preemptively messed with the camera feeds.

The droid whistled in excitement and bathed your hand in a green light. You tried and failed to fight the smile that braced your lips as you watched him dance around your palm. He scanned the object from every angle he could find.

Too focused on his reaction, you failed to notice the individual looking over your shoulder until his shadow dimmed the wall you were facing. Too late to react properly, you shut your hand as quick as you could and turned to look at the man. Kin Fobam. Another bounty hunter, a Pau’an, one that always found a new way to piss you off. Today would apparently be no exception. BD beeped in annoyance at your movement before noticing you had company.

“Well, well. It would seem our little bounty hunter has a penchant for jewels after all.” the man sneered at you.

You rolled your eyes and did your best not to flinch at the lack of personal space, his two-meter height trapping you without much breathing room. You could smell the alcohol he had consumed, but you didn’t need it to know he was intoxicated. At this time of night, he always was. You were already almost pressed to the wall of your booth with only enough space to keep BD behind you, so you stood your ground and straightened up as best you could. You kept the droid in place as he spat angry threats at Kin, unwilling to let him make the situation worse.

“Kin, don’t you know women love shiny things?” you mocked with an arched brow, “Maybe if you’d known that earlier, that lovely Iridonian wouldn’t have spat at you again for your advances last week. How’s your attempt at courting her going, by the way?”

You subtly held the metal pin in pinched fingers behind your back as his white face somehow turned even paler in anger, desperately hoping BD-1 would understand what you were trying to tell him. You almost sighed in relief when you felt him swiftly slide it out of your hands into his stim container.

Kin moved even closer to you, forcing you to lean over BD in a desperate attempt to gain some personal space. Your free hand instinctively reached for your hip but only found the weathered leather of your empty holster. Shit, you’d left your guns on the ship! You didn’t have the space to reach for your blades either, so you had no choice but to do it the old way.

You tensed, ready to headbutt the towering Pau’an out of your space, but you stilled when you felt cold metal brush against your skin in the small gap where your shirt and pants met. A blaster. Fuck. This is why you never left without a firearm.

“I wonder, if that piece of metal is worth so much to someone like you,” he growled, “then maybe you’d accept payment in other forms… as thanks for sparing your life today, hm?”

You cringed at the implication of his words but took a steadying breath. You’d insulted this guy in more ways than you could count over the years and you knew he could pull that trigger without a second thought, but you’d fought bounties that were bigger, angrier, and certainly more skilled. He wasn’t the first to try and extort sexual favors from you, nor would he be the last.

Your brain spun in circles, trying to come up with a plan that didn’t involve blaster fire passing through your right kidney and BD-1 in one fell swoop. You didn’t have to think for long, though.

Before you could make a move, a blinding orange light flashed between you and Kin, floating just underneath his chin. You could feel the heat from where you were, could imagine the pain its power wielded. The way the man’s white flesh turned pink at its proximity didn’t go unnoticed.

“How about I gift her with the loss of your life as an apology for letting her endure your dirty ass, Kin?” a smooth voice drawled, the speaker invisible to you with your still-focusing eyes, but you didn’t need to see him to know who it was. As if the lightsaber wasn’t already enough to identify him, but you’d know that voice anywhere too. You weren’t the only one, if the cheering beeps you heard behind you were any indications.

A smirk braced your features as the Pau’an gritted his sharp teeth, hesitating a second before raising his hands in a defeated manner. He demonstratively holstered his pistol to make sure his head wasn’t cut off at the movement and he slowly stepped back a few feet away. The lightsaber didn’t stray a single millimeter from him. His brows pinched in anger, and he looked expectantly towards you. “It was just a little bit of fun, right?” he said as he hissed in pain. “Nothing to get upset about.”

You chuckled at the attempt. “I don’t know, I’m thinking your head on a platter sounds pretty great right about now. Maybe I can find someone out here who’d enjoy some barbecued Pau’an. What do you think, Cal?”

Your heart skipped a beat when your gaze met amused grey eyes over Kin’s hunched shoulders. He winked at you, and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip.

“I’m pretty sure that violates too many health codes,” he said, “you know, quality standards and such.”

BD whistled in agreement, scampering up onto your back and nudging the side of your head when you got up to lean against the side of your table.

“Too bad,” you sighed, crossing your arms, “maybe it could’ve bought me some new earrings.”

Cal laughed loudly, warmth spreading through your chest at the lovely sound before he closed a hand on the sweaty neck before him and brought his blade even closer to his chin. “The next time you even come within 20 feet of her,” he stated casually, loudly enough for the entire bar to hear and turn the heads of the few who weren’t already watching, “you won’t live long enough to say ‘womp rat’. Are we clear?”

Well, if your heart hadn’t been beating fast before, it sure was now. Never had a threat sounded so attractive before. You diverted your gaze. Get a grip, you reprimanded yourself.

BD-1 only encouraged him, a crackling sound buzzing entirely too close to your ear for your liking. When did he get a taser? You didn’t even want to know what he used it for, finding trouble with his new gadgets was a special talent of his.

Kin, now wide eyed, muttered an affirmative and a long line of fearful apologies, eager to escape the Jedi. Cal flicked off his saber and forcefully shoved him away. The Pau’an bolted out the door of the bar, running for his life, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his fear. BD reprimanded Cal for acting so late, beeps and squeals echoing through the room after the patrons returned to their usual business, but the red-haired man was only focused on you. Your skin heated at the attention.

“I could’ve dealt with him myself.”

He gave you a wide smile and stepped closer, no Pau’an separating you anymore. “Oh, I know. Wasn’t this much more fun though?”

The corner of your lips twitched, and you shrugged, softly shaking your head at his ever-lasting upbeat attitude. You uncrossed your arms, placing them behind you on the rusty table to comfortably lean back. “Still could’ve knocked him out faster without alerting every possible person of a Jedi’s presence here.”

“Give me a break,” he said almost sheepishly, reaching up a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “is a guy not allowed to show off to a pretty girl every once in a while?”

Your breath hitched on a single breath, caught off-guard. Sure, the two of you joked around all the time, but he’d never gone so far as to straight up flirt with you. You tried not to react, probably failing miserably at doing so.

“Smooth.”

He threw his head back in laughter, his reddened freckled cheeks showing more embarrassment that he let on. “I try.”

“Next time,” you said, striding past him, “if you really want to show off, perhaps you shouldn’t wait until there’s a blaster pointed at me before making your move.”  You had no idea how you kept your voice steady, and you couldn’t help but hear the rare softness of it. You were thankful that he couldn’t see how wide of a smile you currently wore.

He jogged to catch up, keeping pace with you as you headed for the docking bay. “I’ll keep that in mind” he chuckled.

You glanced back at the bar over your shoulder, and BD started emitting alarm noises from your other side, indignant at still being ignored. You patted his head, quieting him for a moment. “Where did your informant go?” you asked Cal. “Wouldn’t want to hinder your next side quest.”

“That was anything but a quest,” he said, “Just a boring old trade. Wouldn’t be so boring if you were there, though.”

A loud whistle of approval sounded above your shoulder.

“Hey, calm it, up there!” you exclaimed, using another opportunity to escape from answering. “I’ve only got two eardrums, let’s not break one of them.”

BD whistled again at a lower volume, followed by a barely audible series of sounds.

“Yeah, weak organics my ass,” you muttered. “We’ll talk about how great being a droid is the next time you bend your antennas and come running to me.”

Cal’s soft laugh caught your attention once more. He was watching you both with such a fond smile... Your heart squeezed at how soft he looked, for once not rushing towards something and instead enjoying the moment.

As you neared your ship, small tendrils of smoke still escaping the upper vents, he looked at his watch when it suddenly started beeping, and he made a face. “I’d love to hear the rest of your arguing, but we have to go. A revolution doesn’t fund itself.” he said. He looked up at the droid sitting on your shoulders. “Yes, beedee, that means you. Hop on.”

Cal held out an arm, BD begrudgingly taking his usual spot on his shoulders, spitting menacing sparks at the jedi along the way. The latter looked towards you with a flicker of hope as he stepped backwards towards the back of the hangar where the Mantis stood. “Can I convince you to join me this time? Still got an extra bunk if you want.”

“I don’t think you want me and beedee on the same ship 24/7, Cal. Anyways, I’ve told you before, I can’t just discard my old one.”

He stared at your smoking Hawk-Class before he turned to you unimpressed. “That thing can’t even fly.”

“It can! I just need to fix the cooling mechanism and-”

“And the hull, the reactors, the hyperdrive, the-” he continued, amused at your stubbornness.

“Okay, okay,” you scoffed, “you’ve made your point. Might as well drop it here, I guess. I could hitch a ride, if you’re heading towards the inner rim, but I’ve got approximately nothing to give in payment for the fuel.”

BD startled you with a burst of binary, so fast you couldn’t hear him. Cal looked at you sharply.

“You’ve been giftinghim things?” he exclaimed.

“You utter snitch, beedee!”

The droid whistled at you disapprovingly and loudly shot the brooch from his stim compartment right into Cal’s hands.

“I can’t believe you,” you continued, “the one thing I told you-”

You fell right back into your argument with the droid.

Cal tilted his head back in loud laughter and threw an arm around your shoulders as you whisper-yelled at BD-1, leading you towards the Mantis. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

Getting side-tracked by BD1? In my supposedly Cal-centered fic? It's more likely than you think.

This was pre-realtionship like my last Cal fic because tbh i have trouble setting up the change from friends to lovers without writing a whole novel, but I have some ideas roaming around my head I'd like to write. We'll see how that turns out!

Tell me what you think, and check out my masterlist!

[my-proof-is-you]

We Can’t Be Friends

Sam x Reader One Shot based on this request!

Summary: You can’t be around someone who broke your heart. You just can’t be friends.

A/N: This is a super long one shot. Sorry, not sorry :)

You

Your lips were inches from each other. You could feel Sam’s breath on your face, Your eyes were closed, the anticipation of the moment you’d dreamed of for so long killing you.

Suddenly, you felt his presence gone. You opened your eyes, Sam had stepped back, his hand running through his hair. 

“We can’t do this, Y/N,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.

”W-What?” You questioned. 

“We can’t be together. It would never work—it’s too risky. You know that.”

You opened your mouth to argue but no words came out. He wasn’t wrong. Hunters dating each other was rough. There was always something out there that could use you against each other. There was always the threat of losing the other person on a hunt. Young death was common. Getting involved with each other would just make it more painful.

You wanted to scream at him that you could make it work. You wanted to beg him to give it a try. 

But all you did was nod. You swallowed, willing the tears stinging at your eyes to go away.

Sam nodded back, also at a loss for words. He turned, heading down the hallway to his room. When you heard his door close, you finally let the tears fall. 

Three Weeks Later

You

Your sharp hearing alerted you to someone other than Sam or Dean entering the kitchen. Your back was to the entryway as you had been filling your coffee mug. It was six in the morning, and even Sam who was an early riser was never up that early. 

Besides, you knew what the boys sounded like. They had very distinct sounds to their steps—individual ways of breathing that you knew like the back of your hand. 

This person was not Sam or Dean.

You pulled your gun from your waistband and spun around instantly, training your firearm on the intruder. 

The woman raised her hands in surrender instantly, a look of confusion on her face. She looked to be about your age. She had long, straight blonde hair, and doe-like eyes that were a bright shade of blue. Her long legs seemed to stretch on forever in the pair of boxer shorts she wore that were rolled up at the waist. She had a white ribbed tank top on with a flannel thrown over it. 

“There is no good way to enter a room that contains a hunter when they’re not expecting you,” she said, her hands still raised and a small smile on her face. 

“Who are you?” You demanded, unflinching.

”I’m Danielle. I guess Sam didn’t warn you I was here.”

”You expect me to believe you were invited here?” You had a hard time believing Sam had just “forgotten” to tell you about a guest.

”Well, it was kinda last minute…” she trailed off. You studied her awkward expression before realization hit you. She wasn’t just wearing a flannel and boxers. She was wearing one of Sam’s flannels. You weren’t sure about the boxers, but you had a pretty good guess as to who they belonged to. 

A sharp pain shot straight through you as you realized what that meant. This woman had spent the night.

”Oh,” you said lamely. You lowered your gun. 

“Whoa, Y/N, what’s goin’ on?” Dean asked, coming into the kitchen behind Danielle. “We don’t wanna scare off any chicks that actually like my brother,” he joked. 

Dean hadn’t known about what happened between you and Sam a few weeks before. You were pretty sure he knew about your feelings for his brother, but you hadn’t told him about your near-relationship. So to Dean, Sam having a girl stay overnight was just business as usual. 

He didn’t know it was making you bite the inside of your cheek so hard it bled. 

“Sorry about that,” you mumbled. She put her hands down as you put your gun back in your waistband. You turned to Dean. ”You knew she was here?”

”Yeah, Sammy texted me last night. He didn’t tell you?” Dean asked, confused. 

You feigned nonchalance. “Must’ve forgot,” you shrugged. 

“Huh. Well, Y/N, Danielle’s here,” he said, giving your shoulder a small shove as he went to get himself a cup of coffee. 

You realized that regardless of your feelings for Sam, you were being rude. 

“I’m sorry. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Danielle,” you said, striding over to her and reaching out a hand. She shook it, smiling.

”It’s no problem, Y/N. I would have done the same thing,” she said with a chuckle.

”You’re a hunter too, I take it?” You asked, handing her the mug meant for you and going back to get coffee for yourself again. She sat down at the table and you sat across from her, trying your best to hide your shock at her mere presence. 

One-night-stands weren’t new to you. All three of you had them now and again. You just weren’t expecting Sam to have one so soon after your…incident. 

“Yeah, I met Sam at a shifter case nearby. We got a drink to celebrate when it was over and…well, here I am.”

You smiled lightly as Dean came to sit next to you. You could feel how forced it was, and by the way you could feel his eyes on you, Dean knew, too. 

You spent the next ten minutes getting to know Danielle with Dean before Sam finally stumbled into the kitchen. 

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Dean said. Sam didn’t seem that surprised that Danielle was still there. You watched him as he walked in and came to the table, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. He turned and walked to the coffee pot, not once making eye contact with you.

”So what’s on the docket today?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his coffee. You were about to respond when Danielle spoke up.

”Well, Sammy and I are going to head up to Colorado for a werewolf case. Then we thought we’d rent a place up there, have a little mini ski vacation.”

Sammy.

We.

Vacation.

Realization smacked you in the face. Danielle wasn’t a one-night-stand. 

Sam was dating her. 

Sam

Sam dared a glance at you from behind his mug when Danielle finished speaking. 

He saw realization, shock, and anger flit across your face at an amazing speed before it turned to a blank mask. 

He was a dick, he knew that. He should have told you he was seeing someone. 

He didn’t even really mean to be seeing someone. He’d met Danielle and had a great night of distraction with her. But when morning came, the gaping hole in his heart returned, and he couldn’t stand it. He needed more distraction. 

Danielle was there. Danielle was sweet and beautiful. Danielle was interested in him.

Danielle wasn’t you, though. 

Before he knew it, a couple of weeks had gone by and he had been calling her up fairly often. He couldn’t find it in himself to tell you, and it hadn’t mattered. But Danielle eventually wanted to see the infamous bunker. So he brought her home. Before telling you.

He knew you’d be pissed. You couldn’t hold it against him forever, though, could you? After all, you’d both agreed it was for the best that you don’t pursue a relationship.

As he watched your face return from blank to your normal easy-going one, he felt a little relief. Maybe you had moved on. Maybe it didn’t bother you that much. 

Sam shook his head a little to clear it, listening back in on the conversation. He needed to focus on the upcoming hunt.

Your phone went to voicemail for the second time. Sam hung up, trying his brother instead.

”Yello?” Dean answered on the second ring.

”Is everything okay?” Sam asked.

”Yeah…why?”

”Where’s Y/N?”

”She’s right here, watching Dr. Sexy with me.”

Sam clenched his teeth and felt his jaw tick. You’d ignored his calls. 

“Sammy?” Dean asked after Sam neglected to respond. 

“Yeah, uh, nevermind. I was just checking in. Danielle and I finished the hunt. We’re gonna spend a couple days up here and then I’ll be home.”

”Alright, brother. Enjoy,” Dean said. Sam could almost hear his eyebrows wiggling. He rolled his eyes and hung up without responding. 

“Everything okay?” Danielle asked, putting her arms around Sam’s neck from behind and placing her face against his. He swallowed, pushing aside his annoyance. 

“Yep, all good.” 

You

Dean hung up the phone and turned to look at you. 

“What?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” He asked, eyeing you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, turning back to the TV.

Dean snatched the remote from next to you, turning it off. “Bullshit. You’ve been weird the last two days. What is going on? Did you and Sam have a fight or something?”

“Or something,” you muttered. 

“Y/N,” he said, staring you down. 

“You know how I feel about him, right?” You asked with a sigh. 

“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug.

”Well, that just makes it…hard to be around him right now. Or talk to him.”

Dean nodded slowly. “But, Y/N, this isn’t anything really new, is it?”

You let out a dry chuckle. “Well, it turns out my feelings aren’t so one-sided.”

”Well I coulda told you that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Sam’s always been crazy about you.”

You nodded, pursing your lips. You gave him a minute to let what he was saying sink in. 

“Wait, if you know you like each other, why aren’t you together?”

”Because dating when you’re a hunter is a bad idea,” you said flatly.

”But…Danielle’s a…” he trailed off. “Oh.”

”Yeah. Oh.”

”I’m so sorry, Y/N/N. I wouldn’t have been so easy-going about her being here if I’d known,” he said, his eyes shining with regret.

”Don’t worry about it, De. I just…I need some space from him. I don’t think I can be his friend right now.” You felt your face crumple a bit as the words left your mouth. You sniffled, and you saw Dean’s eyes flash with a protective anger.

”I’ll knock some sense into him,” he said, his jaw ticking. 

“Dean, no. I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to beat up your brother for me,” you said with a chuckle. Dean really was your best friend outside of Sam, and you felt your heart swell a little at the thought of him siding with you over his own brother.

”Fine,” he sighed. “But Y/N, you say the word, and his ass is grass.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, Dean’s antics cheering you up a little. “Got it.”

It was a little harder to avoid Sam when he got back from his “mini-vacation.” He had clearly caught on to the fact that you didn’t want to hang out with him. Not that you were subtle. 

Whenever Sam walked into a room you were in, you mumbled some excuse and left. You could see that it was bothering him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it. 

He’d tried to talk to you about it a couple of times. You’d been able to avoid the conversation. 

Until now, that is.

”Y/N, stop.” He grasped your arm as you turned to leave the library. You’d come in from the kitchen and seen him there and immediately tried to escape. He was fast, though, and pulled you to a bookshelf, effectively cornering you.

You pulled your arm away from his hand as if he’d burned you. 

“What, Sam?” You asked with very little patience.

”What do you mean, ‘what’? You’ve been avoiding me for the better part of a month,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Yeah, well, you’ve been busy,” you said, emphasizing the last word. 

“I’ve been here almost every day,” he said, clearly not getting what you were saying. “Why don’t you want to hang out with me? I miss you.”

You almost softened your resolve when he said that. But the pain that creeped in when you remembered Danielle put the wall right back up. If he couldn’t see what he’d done, you weren’t going to explain it to him.

”It’s nothing, Sam. I’ve just been busy, too.” You met his eyes but made sure to keep yours blank. He searched them for a moment. “Can I go now?” You asked. 

He nodded, a look of sadness on his face. You slipped past him and out of the library before you could change your mind. 

A few more weeks went by and you could feel yourself becoming less and less like yourself. You continued to give Sam the cold shoulder, and it seemed he had given up trying to get you to talk, too. You spoke with him when it was essential for hunts, but rarely outside of that. 

Danielle had been joining many of your hunts and hanging around the bunker a lot. It was painful to see them together, but she really was a nice girl and a great hunter. It wasn’t her fault you were heartbroken. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard Danielle wouldn’t be coming on the afternoon’s hunt. You were going to the next town over to take care of a vamp nest, which should have been quick and easy.

It wasn’t.

There were more vampires than any of you had thought. The three you killed easily were only a third of what the nest actually was. You each took on two more when they appeared. You could hear the sounds of Sam and Dean fighting theirs off as you lopped off the head of one of yours. The other one, though, got the jump on you. He threw you against the wall with unbelievable force, knocking the wind out of you. 

You laid crumpled on the floor, trying to get your bearings. You had hit your head, and you reached back to feel the bump, your hand coming back red with blood. Your back was screaming, and you could tell you’d at least bruised a few ribs. 

“Stupid girl,” the vampire said, closing in on you slowly. “You killed my family. That cannot stand.”

Your vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges, unconsciousness pulling at you. As the vamp leaned in, fangs bared, his eyes went wide just before his head was gone. It rolled to the floor and his body fell back with a loud thump on the floor. 

“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?” Sam shouted. He was kneeling down in front of you where the vampire had just been. He held your shoulders and you blinked hard, trying to get your vision to clear. It was useless, though, and you felt yourself go limp before darkness took over.

“Y/N. Y/N,” you heard as you opened your eyes. You blinked against the harsh light of the bunker’s kitchen. You were sat in a chair, Dean holding you up by your shoulders and lightly tapping your face.

”Y-Yeah,” you said, your head pounding. “I’m okay.”

”I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied. He checked you over and when you both agreed that you’d just been knocked out and probably had some bruised ribs, he gave you a glass of water and left to go shower. You were still sitting, and realized that Sam was leaning against the counter, staring at you.

“You scared me,” he said quietly.

You pursed your lips, shrugging. “I’m fine.”

”You’re not fine. We’re not fine,” he said, looking away and shaking his head. 

“Sam, don’t,” you said. You stood up and took a moment to steady yourself. 

“Just talk to me, Y/N!” He said, suddenly walking toward you.

”Why don’t you talk to your girlfriend, Sam?” You said, unable to hide the hurt from your voice. 

Sam’s eye met yours, a look of regret taking over.

“I made a mistake,” he said quietly. 

“You—you made a mistake.” You stated sarcastically. 

“Yeah, Y/N. I made a mistake starting a relationship with Danielle. I still have feelings for you,” he said. He lifted a hand like he wanted to touch you, but dropped it when he saw the look on your face.

You felt the rage bubbling up inside as you held back the tears forming the best you could.

”What do you want me to say, Sam?” You said through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

He swallowed, his soulful eyes meeting yours. 

“You did this to us, Sam. You chose to date her. You chose this.”

”We both agreed it was better not to try!” He argued. 

“No, Sam. You said it was better. I only went along with it because it was what you wanted! And then you decided to try with her!” You sucked in a breath as the tears fell in an attempt to calm yourself. “She is a good person, Sam. She doesn’t deserve less than one-hundred percent of you.”

You stepped forward, gripping his hand. You brought your eyes up to his. “Be the good man I know you are. Be with her.” You squeezed his hand once before dropping it. You brushed past him and down the hall to your room. Closing the door, you collapsed onto your bed and let the sobs escape. Some time later, you felt the bed dip behind you. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in over your sobs. So much for your hunter ears. 

You knew from the scent of whiskey, cologne, and motor oil that it was Dean, though. He put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you toward him, and you let him. You rested your head on his chest and gripped his shirt as you cried. He kept his arms around you and let you, shushing you and kissing the top of your head. After what felt like hours, you fell asleep surrounded by the comfort of your best friend.

Sam 

It had been a few hours since he’d seen you or Dean, so Sam decided to go looking for you. After looking in all the common areas of the bunker, he carefully opened the door to your room.

Dean met his eyes from his spot leaning against the headboard of your bed and Sam slid his gaze down, taking in your sleeping form. He could see that the space around your eyes was puffy from crying. He took a deep breath in, letting it out in a pained sigh. 

“She been asleep long?” He asked his brother.

Dean just shook his head. “She’s really out, though.”

”Dean—“

”Sam, I don’t want to hear it,” Dean said, cutting him off. “Whatever bullshit reason you have for doing what you did—for doing this,” he said, nodding toward you with his head, “I don’t want to hear it.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, feeling the tears stinging the back of his eyes.

”What am I supposed to do, man?” He asked his big brother, his voice breaking slightly. “I love her.”

Dean’s eyes softened. “You do what’s right. You do what you always should have.”

”I can’t lose her,” Sam said quietly. He worried for a second that Dean wouldn’t know if he meant Danielle or you. 

“I get it,” Dean replied, and Sam wasn’t worried anymore. “But you have to decide what that means for you. Cause you can’t have it both ways.” He looked down at you again, effectively telling Sam that he was done talking. 

Sam left your room, closing the door quietly behind him. 

The right thing. He’d always tried to do the right thing. And look where it’d gotten him.

He knew what he was going to do, right or wrong be damned.

You

You’d woken at some point to Dean sliding out from under you and covering you with your comforter. You were already falling back asleep as he kissed your head and said, “Sleep, sweetheart.”

Now you woke again. Your phone on your nightstand told you it was 11 AM. You’d slept for twelve hours. 

Everything from the night before came rushing back to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself. Your head throbbed and your ribs ached as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom. You showered, the hot water stinging your head wound but soothing your sore muscles. You dressed in your leggings and a t-shirt before throwing one of Sam’s flannels over it. You may not have been his girlfriend—or even speaking to him—but you would be damned if you were going to give up the comfiest piece of clothing you’d stolen from him.

You padded down the hall to the kitchen, noticing how quiet the bunker was. You didn’t know where the brothers were, but decided not to worry about it before you’d even had some coffee. 

You walked into the library, intent on sitting in one of the overstuffed leather chairs by the bookshelves. You stopped, though, when you saw Sam sitting at one of the tables. He wasn’t pouring over any old tomes or looking at his laptop like usual. He was just sitting there, staring at his hands. He looked up then, and you knew he’d been waiting for you.

”Sam, please, I can’t do this again,” you said, not wanting to argue with him.

He stood, walking to you in two long strides and taking your mug, setting it down on the table nearest to you. You watched him in confusion as he came back to stand in front of you. 

“You said I was a good man, Y/N.” He grabbed each of your hands with his, his eyes never leaving yours. “But a good man wouldn’t have broken your heart.”

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. “Sam—“

”Let me just say this, Y/N/N,” he said softly. You nodded for him to continue. 

“I was trying to do the right thing when I said we shouldn’t be together. I thought it would just be too hard, and I didn’t want to lose you. But being without you created this—this hole in me. So I tried to fill it. I distracted myself with Danielle. I didn’t even really want to be in a relationship with her. It’s not like I forgot what I had just said about dating as hunters. But it was different with her. The stakes weren’t as high.”

You watched him as he continued, his grip on your hands staying firm.

”She only eased the ache for a little bit, though. It always came back. It came back because you are what I need.

”When you got hurt on the hunt yesterday, my heart nearly stopped. It didn’t matter that we aren’t together. Losing you would ruin me, whether we’re together or not. 

“I broke up with Danielle this morning. Maybe that makes me a bad person. I don’t know. I don’t care, though. I’m so in love with you, Y/N. And I can’t go another minute without you in my life.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you could feel the tears leaking out of your eyes and down your cheeks. Sam lifted his hands to your face, his thumbs wiping the tears away. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said when it was clear you were speechless. You nodded, finding it was the only thing you could manage at the moment. 

Sam smiled lightly and leaned in, bringing his lips to yours. In that moment it was like you had found everything that had ever been missing in your life. You were whole again. You brought your hands up around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. He moaned, wrapping one arm around your back and pulling you flush to him. 

After a few moments he pulled away, his eyes searching yours. You realized you still hadn’t spoken. 

You smiled. “You are a good person, Sam. And I love you, too.”

His face lit up and he pulled you back in for another kiss. 

“Thank God,” you heard from the bottom of the stairs. Dean stood there holding a few takeout bags. “I couldn’t take any more of y’all’s drama.”

You rolled your eyes at your friend before turning back to Sam. “So, do you want to try this?” You asked cautiously.

”Try? No,” he replied. Your heart sank for a moment before he continued. “We’re doing this. You’re it for me, Y/N,” he said, placing a finger under your chin before bringing his lips to yours again. 

You smiled as he pulled away. “Guess we’re friends again,” you joked. 

“Nuh uh,” he said, pulling you close again. “You’re mine,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Then show me,” you whispered back. Next thing you knew, Sam had thrown you over his shoulder and was marching down the hall. 

“Guess I’ll see you guys later,” you heard Dean call with a chuckle. 

And as Sam tossed you gently on his bed and crawled up, hovering over you, you knew that he finally got it.

Being together was worth the risk.

Forevers:@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @cumuluscranium

[late-to-the-party-81]

Blood Lust

N: For my last entry to @buckybarneseventsBuild a Bucky Bingo I’ve picked Vampire AU. I’ve adored this challenge and hope it runs again.

Unbeta’d so please excuse any typos, but big thanks to @christywrites for spitballing with me.

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you would like to join my tag list, click here

Master list | BaBB Master list

Summary: Bucky was just trying to find another lost Hydra bunker to destroy it - he never expected to find a fucking Vampire inside it, or receive such a proposition from her.

You didn’t know who the stranger coming into your territory was, but you could tell from his scent he was powerful - maybe he could provide you with what you needed, in more ways than one.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Vampire! Reader

Word Count: 5k

CW: Vampire AU, alternating POV,  blood drinking (what did you expect?), rough sex,  multiple orgasms, canon typical violence, destruction of furniture, guns, stranger sex, smidge angst, discussions of murder.

Even if you hadn’t been able to smell him as he drew closer - musky with fresh sweat along with notes of gunsmoke and metal - you’d have known he was there. His blood sang to you. You could feel it, drawing you in. Closer and closer. Full of strength and power. And, you hoped, the answer to your prayers.

You waited in the shadows and as he came into view, moving slowly and stealthily, you watched him with a growing hunger that wasn’t simply a need to feed.

The thing about HYDRA, Bucky thought, was that just when he was sure he’d found all of their old bases and razed them to the ground, he found mention of another one. Now, here he was, deep in the Appalachians, trying to distinguish a HYDRA bunker from those built by random prepper’s . The signs were there, though - marks carved in the rocks and trunks of trees that looked innocuous to most folks, but were clear as day to someone with the appropriate knowledge.

Dusk had started to fall an hour ago, and now it was almost fully dark. The moon had risen, round and heavy looking, but the sky was covered in those large fluffy clouds that constantly moved and only allowed the bright, reflected light to illuminate the path in front of him at random. Luckily, with his enhanced eyesight, Bucky didn’t need to rely on either the inconsistent glow or a flashlight. His steps were sure and steady, barely making a sound.

Eventually, after following a few false paths, he found what he was after. A broad cliff face, cut with vertical crannies, rose up in front of him. Somewhere at the bottom would be the entrance, cunningly hidden. He reached out with his left hand, running the tips of his vibranium fingers over the weather roughened surface for signs of a mechanism. As he did so, he became aware of two things at once. Firstly, he found the switch to release the door with relative ease. However, secondly, he got the distinct feeling he was being watched. 

Whipping around, Bucky peered into the darkness, his ears straining for any unusual sounds, but all he could hear were the bugs, rodents and owls. If he were any other person he’d think he was imagining it, but years of training followed by a few years of paranoid hiding had taught him better.

When nothing appeared out of the gloom, Bucky forced himself to turn back to the hidden door and trigger its release. Hopefully he could leave his stalker outside and deal with them later, once he’d completed his mission. 

Without further ado, he made his way inside, the door to the bunker closing decisively behind him.

You watched from your perch, your entire body tingling in anticipation, as the man made his way, unknowingly inside your lair. He was confident, you could tell, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop you. His blood would be yours to feast on and you were certain it would make you stronger. 

How long had it been since you’d fed from an unwilling source? Others of your kind may prefer it that way, but in the centuries since you’d been turned, you’d barely ever had to resort to those means. Well, you thought ruefully, apart from in those first few months when you’d been unable to control your hunger. That was a long time ago, though, and now you had a good relationship with the folk who lived near-by - your protection in exchange for fresh blood. 

However, the appearance of a rogue coven threatened that relationship. They were a group who followed the old ways, killing indiscriminately and revelling in the carnage. Yes, you could move on, establish yourself elsewhere, but you had bound yourself to this community of people over 100 years ago. Their blood literally ran in your veins. Therefore, you would protect them, and if it took the life essence of this one, apparently powerful stranger to do so, then so be it. 

Bucky strode down the corridors, trying to shake off the innate feeling of revulsion that always seemed to cling to him whenever he came into one of these places. He knew it was half due to the dank, dark environment and half due to memory. Ghosts stalked these halls, and he was both one of them and not at the same time. It was a strange duality that he was still learning to accept. 

The advantage of being one of those ghosts was knowing his way around without much difficulty. While HYDRA liked to make their bunkers as winding and complicated as possible, they always replicated the same design. This therefore made it complex for anyone new, but familiar for any long standing acolytes and he’d been the longest standing of them all.

Winding downwards into the lower levels, towards the central processing area with its banks of computers, Bucky allowed his mind to wander. There was no-one else in here but him. If there were he’d be able to hear their heartbeat or footsteps. He wondered if the person who’d been watching him outside was waiting for him to exit, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

He absent mindedly patted the pocket that held the flash drive for downloading any uncorrupted data still available. He and Nat would sift through it all on his return and delete anything that shouldn’t be let out into the wider world, which was probably most of it to be honest.

He was feeling pretty confident about this whole mission when the attack came without warning. One moment he was walking down yet another dark corridor, his enhanced night vision serving him well, and the next, something - someone - barreled into him from behind. His instincts kicked in, and Bucky tucked his head and rolled, taking the impact with the floor on his right shoulder, before coming up and spinning around, his left arm raised in a block. A high-pitched shriek filled the air and his assailant slammed against his raised arm. It was with a mixture of shock and disbelief that he realised that it was a woman attacking him, but he didn’t have time to analyse what was going on as she punched and scratched at him. 

He blocked her moves, but her strength was unexpected and he found himself giving ground underneath her onslaught. A punch to the gut had him reeling and it was with a sickening realisation Bucky decided that he could no longer just be on the defensive. His previous self had never discriminated on the grounds of sex - just ask Nat - and it appeared that was something his new, recovered self would also have to adopt, for this encounter at least. 

Using the advantage afforded him by the distance that had opened up between them, Bucky pulled his pistol from its holster on his right hip and aimed at the woman, centre mass. The retort of the gun was loud within the confines of the concrete lined corridor, but not as loud as the woman’s scream. Bucky winced and turned his head to the side in response to the sound, but it was only as she came running at him again that he realised that it wasn’t a scream of pain, but one of rage. It was as though the bullet hole in her body - and he knew it had hit her from both the sound and the spray of blood up the wall behind her - wasn’t causing her a single issue.

“What the fuck?” He raised his arm again, aiming for her skull, but as he pulled the trigger she seemed to blur in front of him, moving a lot closer to him than humanly possible. The bullet struck the wall, embedding itself with a small shower of concrete chips. 

Deciding that something was very wrong, Bucky turned. He needed to get away from her and give himself time to come up with a plan. However, he was jerked to a halt by the back of his tac-vest and then slammed face-first into the wall. It crumbled and cracked under the impact and Bucky had a moment of dizziness, before he was spun around and a clawed hand held his jaw in a firm grip. He spat out a mouthful of grit and blood and noticed the way the woman’s nostrils flared as he did so, her gaze becoming momentarily unfocused. It didn’t last long though, and his unease grew as he watched an animalistic grin spread over her face. A grin that displayed the fangs in her mouth.

“Oh,” the woman said in a low purr. “You’re going to be lots of fun…”

You held the man against the wall, your body alive with the thrill of the chase and the scent of his spilt blood. Your primal nature had been awakened for the first time in years and you were ready to let it have free reign. However, you weren’t sure whether you should just feed, or whether you should ‘play with your meal’ first. 

Your moment of indecision gave the man an opening, and he grabbed your wrist with his left hand, the one you noticed was made of some kind of metal, and squeezed. You felt the bones break and you let go instinctively. The pain didn’t last though, and you held up your hand in front of you, feeling everything reset within seconds.

“That wasn’t nice,” you spat. He looked back at you in shock and now it was your turn to take advantage. No more Ms Nice Vampire. You took hold of both his hands, flesh and prosthetic, and slammed them both above his head, cracking the wall further. With interest you noticed his eyes dilate, and you hadn’t even attempted to use your glamour yet.That fact tipped the scales further in the direction of playing. 

“You can make it up to me though, can’t you?” You crowded into his space, pleased to note that he wasn’t even struggling, although he was far from lax under your hold. Leaning forward you placed your nose close to his throat and inhaled deeply. You shivered at the delicious scent - it was almost completely intoxicating. “You can be good?” You heard his indrawn breath and smiled to yourself. Tilting your head, you carefully scraped your fangs down the skin of his neck, not hard enough to break his skin, but he’d still be able to feel it. Speaking of feeling….  His hips bucked as you teased him and you were nudged by something firm but still somewhat yielding. 

A praise kink? A pain kink? Maybe both? This was going to be good.

Using your preternatural speed and strength you pulled him away from the wall and then threw him towards the floor. His head bounced off the hard surface, making his eyes cross, but you immediately settled over his waist, taking hold of his face in both your hands and roughly kissing him. Blood from his split lip trickled into your mouth and you ground down over his erection in pleasure.

You drew back and looked down at him, pleased to note he was so busy trying to work out what was going on, he wasn’t even trying to escape.

“You can’t be real,” he stated. “I shot you.”

“Oh, I promise I absolutely am. And that lead slug did tickle a bit. You’re a good shot, Soldier. However, you need either silver or wood if you want to slow me down.” You flicked out a long fingernail and drew it down his cheek, this time drawing blood. A small bead clung to the tip of your nail and you drew in between your lips. His cock twitched under you, but then he shook his head, as if trying to get out of the stupor he was in, and tried to push himself up.

“Uh-uh,” you chastised, placing your hand on his chest and pressing down. “You’re not going anywhere. You have something I need.”

“You’re not taking anything from me, bitch,” he snarled, and squirmed under your unnaturally strong hold. You ground down again.

“Who said anything about taking? You’re going to give it to me, and say thank you while you do. You know what I am. What I can offer. What’s a little blood in exchange for guaranteed pleasure. I’ll even let you rough me up a bit if you want?” You leaned back down. Closer. More intimate. “I know you want to…” You licked up the cut on his cheek, both of you shuddering as you did. Then, experimentally, you lessened your hold on him.

In an instant, he flipped you, pressing you to the floor with his left hand on your throat. He didn’t attempt to hurt you though, or escape. Just looked down at you, wide-eyed and panting. You had him just where you wanted him.

Bucky’s head was spinning. He’d seen a lot in his time - but this was something else. A fucking vampire. He looked down at her, noticing the way her dark eyes twinkled in amusement. In all of the tussle it hadn’t escaped his notice how attractive she was. If she wasn’t trying to drain him of his blood he might have been interested. At least that’s what he was trying to convince himself of. His dick obviously hadn’t received the memo, because it had perked up from the moment she’d shown that she was as dangerous as him. 

Fuck! Was he mad for even contemplating it? She’d already shown it would be incredibly difficult for him to hurt her - at least in any way  that would be long lasting - and that was a fact he found incredibly arousing. If he took her up on her offer he’d be able to really let go.

“You don’t want to kill me?”

She laughed and arched up into his hold. “Sweet boy. If I wanted that, I’d have done so already. But if I had, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy each other over and over, would we?”

“What about the people who live here? How many of them have you killed?”

“In the last one hundred and fifty years? None. We have an understanding. Regular, non-lethal tributes in exchange for my protection.”

Bucky furrowed his brow at her words.“Protection from what? What could possibly be worse than you?”

“Many things. You have no idea what evils lurk in the dark.”

Now it was his turn to scoff. “I think you’ll find I do. I used to be one of them. I may be mortal, but I’m not like everyone else.”

She lifted her arms and ran her hands, delicate but deadly, up and down his biceps. “And yet you obviously choose to be a better person. I bet you could take everything you wanted - use your Soldier skills - but you don’t. You compromise. You do what’s right. How does that make you any different from me?” 

There was an undeniable truth to her words, as much as Bucky didn’t want there to be. He constantly downplayed his abilities, because he didn’t want his friends to realise what he would truly be capable of if he wanted.

“What are you waiting for?” she continued. “Just think what it would be like, not to have to hold back. To fuck. Hard. To feel the pain mingle with the pleasure.” She smiled up at him, wryly, and he could feel his resolve slipping. Her left hand tightened on his right bicep, sharp fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt - pinpricks of sensation that lit up his nervous system and made his traitorous dick twitch once again in his pants. Her smile morphed back into that tooth-filled grin and she pressed her nails in even harder. “Go on. Let go. Take what you want.” 

Her voice was a hypnotic purr, and Bucky could hear his blood thrumming with need. It felt as though he was standing on the edge of a precipice, only needing one small nudge to send him over the edge. She rolled her hips and let out a pleasured sigh and Bucky fell.

It was difficult to suppress your feeling of triumph as his lips crashed against yours. For a few seconds you let him have the upper hand, before you rolled the pair of you back to your original positions. Then, with a laugh, you pulled away from him and rose to your feet. “Catch me if you can, Soldier.” You skipped away at half speed, which was still faster than most humans, and he chased after you, grinning. Every few minutes, you’d allow him to capture you - let him kiss you and touch you - for a few moments before pulling away and starting the dance again. He only hesitated once, when your escape from his grip ended up in your top being ripped. He froze, looking at you with worry, as if you were about to censure him for his roughness. Instead, you threw back your head and laughed with joy, before taking hold of the neckline of his shirt and tugging on it harshly. The ruined material hung from him in tatters, exposing his firm chest and you licked your lips salaciously before running away from him again.

By the time you’d lead him to the room you’d repurposed as your bed chamber, the pair of you were barely clothed. Your Soldier’s chest heaved and was covered in a thin film of sweat, and you couldn’t wait to taste him. All of him.

With a snarl he tackled you to your bed and you went with him gladly, ignoring the ominous creak of the wooden frame. His mouth roved hungrily over yours and his right hand groped at your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple. You mewled against his lips as the pain mixed with the pleasure and you grabbed at his pecs in turn, digging in your talon-like nails until they broke the skin and ten beads of blood appeared in two beautiful arcs across his torso.

He bit down on your clavicle, hard enough to hurt but not enough to break your toughened skin, and you rolled your hips against his hard length. His hand left your breast and snaked down to the remnants of your underwear. As his fingers slid through your sodden folds, you ran your fingers through his hair as he scraped his teeth down your throat, in an echo of your own earlier move. His left hand, as cold as your own skin, skimmed over your body as he made his way lower, biting your flesh without care. He swirled over your clit, before plunging two fingers inside you without preamble, forcing a cry from your throat.

“Yes! YES! Fuck!”

He answered with a growl, before sucking on the skin of your hip. This was what you’d unknowingly been craving and you suspected it was the same for him. Pure inhibition. Carnality.

Moving even lower, he fastened his lips around your aching bud, laving it without mercy and your eyes rolled back in your head as your orgasm crashed into you, like waves against a cliff. He gave no quarter, though, flipping you unceremoniously onto your front and pulling your hips up.

“Do it!” you hissed, and anticipation shuddered through you as he placed that heavy left hand on the back of your neck, pining you to the bed. When he thrust his cock inside you, you both moaned, but there was no time to process the sensation as he set up a vigorous pace, thrusting into your wet cunt so harshly there was no way you could ignore the protests from your bed. But fuck it - this was the best sex you’d had in decades - if it broke, it broke. You relaxed your body, turning pliant under his hands and enjoying the illusion of physical domination as he fucked into you with abandon. You had wondered if your body was still capable of feeling this level of pleasure, but as he continuously hit that spot inside you, you realised it was. 

His right hand gripped your hip so hard you knew that if you were still mortal you knew you’d be bruised for days, and the way he had you pinned would have impeded your breathing if that were still an issue. He was using you for his pleasure, but at the same time making sure you got yours too. The only noise you could let out were little ‘uh-uh’s’ in time with his thrusts and the creak of the wood of your bed. When the spasms of ecstasy shook you once more you felt his cock tense inside you and then flood you with a warmth that was almost forgotten. 

As you floated back down, there were a few seconds where a feeling of disappointment washed over you that it was over already, but then you realised that he was still hard inside you. He gave a few experimental thrusts, probably checking that you were alright to continue, and you pushed back onto him in a raptured response.

However, he quickly withdrew and when you looked over your shoulder in confusion he pulled you up and off the bed. With a speed that would have taken your breath away, he once again grabbed you by the neck and, with another hand on your ass, he lifted you and slammed you against the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and as his mouth met with yours again, he resheathed himself inside you. You gripped his shoulders, drawing blood once again, and the snapping of his hips became harder as you did so.

“Take it!” he growled against your lips. “You wanted this, so you’ll take it all.” 

You sucked his lower lip into your mouth and bit it, releasing a sweet, sticky dribble of his blood into your mouth, moaning at the taste. It was ambrosia, and you couldn’t wait to have more, and feel his essence buzzing through your veins.

“How long. Can you. Keep going?” you asked between rough thrusts.

“I got three or four in me,” he replied to your joy. 

“Then fill me up again, Soldier. I want to be dripping you.”

His groan was deep and filthy, both of you now attuned to how wet your cunt currently was, your mingled spend already coating your inner thighs and the skin at the base of his cock.

“You have to come again first. Show me how much you want it. Come for me.”

You didn’t need telling twice and leaned your head back against the wall as the sensations washed over you. “Fuuuuuuuck!” He was as good as his word though, reaching his own peak as you clenched around him.

However, as nice as it had been to relinquish control to this man, it was time for you to regain it. You moved your hands so they were flat against the wall behind you and then pushed off. Your Soldier staggered back, with you still held in his arms and his rock solid cock still snug in your cunt, until his legs hit the mattress. He fell back onto it and you smiled from your position atop him, before starting to ride him.

Bucky’s head was spinning. This… There was nothing he could compare it to. This woman - this vampire - was not only taking everything he gave, she was serving it right back to him. He looked up, mesmerised, as she took control from him again, gliding up and down his cock. She looked like some kind of warrior of old. A goddess. Maybe she had been one of those in her previous life? But right here and now, she was the only woman to come close to matching him and it was intoxicating. The earlier cuts she’d made on his chest had healed over already, but she just reopened them with a curl of her hands. The pads of her fingers smeared the drops across his chest before she raised them to her mouth and sucked them clean, all ten, one by one. When she grinned down at him, her teeth were blood-stained and she looked primally beautiful.

“Sit up,” she commanded. “I need to feel you closer. I want to taste you properly.”

He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this, but for some reason he trusted her when she said she didn’t want him dead. He also hoped that if her blood lust took over he’d be able to escape from her before it went too far - although a voice in his head laughed harshly at that. From what had happened so far, he would probably lose, but he was nothing if not a risk taker.

Bucky pushed himself upright and his supernatural lover wound her fingers into his hair and kissed him while gyrating in his lap. He grabbed at her waist, holding her steady and just gave himself over to the onslaught of pleasurable sensations. She tugged on his hair as she plundered his mouth and he could help but jerk his hips up to meet her movements. Thanks to the serum, he could already feel his third orgasm building - that really was one of the unanticipated advantages of it all - and he couldn’t help but chase the pleasure.

It was strange, this frantic coupling. The vampire was cool to the touch under his right hand, but so warm around his cock. It was as though he were heating her from the inside out. And while he was enjoying the way she moved atop him, he really needed to move.

“Please,” he muttered and she seemed to immediately understand. Shifting her weight to the side, she managed to roll the pair of them. Immediately, Bucky’s hips regained their previous pace. He felt untethered - unhinged - in the best possible way. She met him thrust for thrust, rolling her hips and making the most delicious noises.

“Are you ready, Soldier?” she uttered. “I promise it feels like nothing else you’ve experienced?”

He looked down at her, taking in her dark eyes that seemed to drag him down into the abyss. He was helpless not to fall. “Do it,” he replied, an echo of her earlier words, and as he felt her cunt start to flutter around him one more time, she surged up, latching her mouth - her teeth - to his throat.

Bucky knew pain - the man he’d become had been forged in the fire of it. He’d expected this to hurt, but that first bite quickly morphed into something else entirely. It wasn’t pleasure - it was ecstasy - and burned through his veins. His hips stuttered, losing rhythm. There was a roaring sound in his ears along with the heavy th-dump of his heartbeat and the brightness of the world intensified to a white light so brilliant it overtook everything around it, before quickly shrinking to a darkness that pulled him down… down… down… into oblivion.

You lay in the ruins of your bed, your Soldier’s head resting on your chest as you carded your fingers through his hair. You’d have found the destruction of your resting place amusing if it weren’t for the disappointment swirling through you. It wasn’t disappointment at your mortal lover’s performance - that could be described as nothing but spectacular - no, it was the disappointment that his blood has seemed to do nothing to boost your power. You felt no different than after any good feed, the glow of  your sated sexual appetite notwithstanding. You’d have to come up with another plan to get rid of those encroaching on your turf. It would be different if you had a clan of your own, had the strength in numbers, but you were on your own.

Beneath your touch he stirred and you turned your attention back to him. You might be a monster, but you weren’t that type of monster. He’d done all you asked, all you’d wanted, and you owed him your care, as limited as it may be. His eyes blinked open, and in the dull light you took in the unique shade of them for the first time.

“Hey,” you whispered as you continued to pet him.

“Hey, yourself,” he replied with a charming smile before looking around. His cheeks pinked adorably as he took in the destruction. “Umm. Sorry about that.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “It’s alright. I was probably due an upgrade. The locals will bring me a new one.” A wave of fear washed over you and you frowned. 

The man in your arms frowned back. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t know why - maybe it was because you’d had no-one else to talk to - but you told him everything. All your fears for the people you watched over, how you weren’t enough on your own and how you’d hoped that his blood would give you the edge you needed.

“And this other group is really that much of a threat?”

You sighed. “Two weeks ago they snatched a family out camping. I wasn’t there quick enough to help, other than to put the mother out of her misery and assure her that her children weren’t coming back - hadn’t been turned. I buried them all myself and then sent their pastor out to pray for them - I wouldn’t put it past those fuckers to come back just to desecrate them further. They’re sick, they’re-”

“Bullies?” he interjected.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I happen to have grown up with someone who’s entire life was dedicated to getting rid of bullies. Not only is he still around, his mentality sort of rubbed off on me.” He grinned at you. “And he’s got some pretty powerful friends, too.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’ve got a team - if you want one? Also, although it might be a little overdue, I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes.” he held out his right hand and you took it in your own, squeezing it a little to see him blush.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky. The name I was born with has been lost to time - I’m no longer that person - but you can call me Ailith.”

“Ailith…” You watched as he rolled your name around his mouth. “And are you ready to go to war?”

“Are you ready to have rabid post fight sex?” you countered with a raised eyebrow.

He grinned and leaned towards you. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

@alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog,

@goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz,

@nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318, @blackhawkfanatic, @strawberrylore,

@scram1326, @hhiggs

[daddy-dins-girl]

First Date: Frankie Morales

HAPPY FRANKIE FRIDAY Y'ALL!

Masterlist

AO3 link

Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Summary: Based on this tumblr Ask. A full one-shot based on a quick little headcanon drabble I wrote about what a first date with Frankie Morales might look like. There's a little of backstory for Reader because it's me and you know I just can't help myself.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Fluff and smut (because we like to strike a delicate balance here). Porn with a sprinkle of plot (again, delicate balance). Cuteness overload during your date with Frankie (sign me up for this date please). Heavy makeout session. Mutual masturbation. Fooling around in the back of Frankie's truck because of uh... reasons. Read to find out! I think that's it for warnings. As far as my stuff goes I'd say this is pretty tame? lol. But if I missed anything lmk!

Notes: I hope there aren't any glaring mistakes here. If I find any I'll come back and edit. Tbh I wrote 99% of it on my phone because our wifi was down for THREE DAYS here (RIP me!). It finally came back this morning just in time for me to post this for Frankie Friday ❤️

You tap your phone’s screen to illuminate it and check the time for probably the fifteenth time in as many minutes to make sure you’re not running late yet as you stand over the bathroom counter putting the final touches on your appearance, wanting to look perfect for tonight. Nerves flutter in your tummy like butterflies and you have to constantly remind yourself to calm down, take it easy.

“It’s just Fish, nothing to get yourself all worked up about” Benny had offered earlier, unhelpfully.

Sure, to your cousins Benny and Will it was just their longtime friend and military buddy, but to you it was the very cute, though very shy, sweet guy that you had met for the first time only recently since you came to “temporarily” crash at your cousins place.

Temporarily had turned into three months far faster than you anticipated. You needed a fresh start, to get out of a not great situation and it was actually your Aunt who had suggested the move to you during your phone call to her on her birthday. Your mother had already been filling her ear with your personal drama it seemed and though she didn’t want to pry, she did want to help and she suggested getting away for even a couple of weeks, that her sons had lots of room at their place and would be happy to have you for a while. After a few phone calls with both Will and Benny they had settled any doubts you might’ve had and welcomed you with open arms when you showed up at their doorstep with little more than a single roller suitcase and a small potted plant under your arm. It was about all the possessions you had left after the less than amicable split with your ex that left you couch surfing at your friends for months before the transition to Will and Benny’s.

So now here you stand, in the bathroom of the guest bedroom you have been calling your own for three months, getting ready for a date with the painstakingly handsome pilot himself, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales.

You know how badly your cousins have been teasing you about the date, you can’t even begin to imagine the ribbing Frankie must have been taking from them since he’d asked you out last Sunday at a barbecue Will and Benny had been hosting and they’d somehow gotten wind of it. You’re surprised Frankie even kept the date, to be honest. Your cousins, you love them with all your heart, but they can be… a lot. You’re very glad Frankie didn’t back down to the pressure though. You’d seen him a fair bit in your few months here and have been dying for him to finally ask you out. You’d flirted enough and though he’d been quiet and shy in the beginning, the more you got to know each other, the more he seemed to come out of his shell around you.

So now here you were, moments before Frankie was due to show up at your door and you silently cursed yourself for not being as ready as you should be. You wanted to be ready and standing outside by now so that Will and Benny couldn’t get any more jabs in to poor sweet Frankie if he had to stand at the door waiting for you, but as you pull on the short, light denim jacket over your sundress you hear a bark of laughter from Benny and already you know you’re too late.

You quickly press some lip gloss on, run your hands through your hair to make sure it’s falling exactly how you want it to and then take a deep breath in the mirror and quickly scurry out of the bedroom to hopefully save the man that is standing outside on the porch.

“No keeping her out past curfew, no drinkin’ and drivin’, no crazy parties or gettin’ too handsy on the first date”

Benny is listing things off on his fingers to poor Frankie like he’s your father scalding your prom date and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Will, you said you’d both be nice” you complain out loud to the older of the two brothers. Will wasn’t much better, but sometimes talking to Benny was like talking to a toddler amped up on a pack of Skittles, there was no getting through when he got over excited about something.

The most ridiculous part about it was that you and Benny were about the same age so it was a little comical, though sweet in his own way, how he tried to ‘big brother’ you.

“Ah c’mon Ace, we were just joshin’ him a bit” Will replies, bright white smile gleaming at you with a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

Ace of course being the nickname they had stuck you with since you were old enough to remember. Any family event you’d ever attended whenever there was any sort of game or sport going on the two boys always ensured you were on their team, likely because you were the only one close in age to them but you liked to tell yourself that it was also because the three of you always had fun together. They have always been so competitive and any time they won (largely due to their own efforts) they were sure to tell everyone that it was all because of you, that you were ‘the ace up their sleeve’ even when you barely did anything. Hell most softball games you preferred to sit in the grass picking flowers while they ran circles around you like pro athletes, but it was sweet how they always made sure to include you and make you feel good about yourself.

“Well we agreed you two goons wouldn’t scare him away” you remind them with a playful roll of your eyes and a swat to Benny’s shoulder when you finally reach the doorway.

You can see Frankie’s appreciative gaze roam over you from head to toe and as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nervously adjusts his ball cap you know he’s itching to say something to you but probably weighing the pros and cons in his head about the two extra sets of ears hearing what’s meant only for you and so you decide for him. You shove past your two cousins, quickly tell them you love them and not to wait up and push them far enough back in the house so you can slam the door shut, finally leaving you on the porch with just Frankie.

“Hi” you breathe out, a smile spreading across your lips. He looks casual but deliciously handsome in a pair of dark tan khaki pants and an untucked light blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, putting his tanned and muscular forearms on display. He still has his infamous Standard Oil hat on, hints of chocolate brown curls peeking out from underneath it. You don’t think you’ve actually ever seen him without it, come to think of it. You try to picture him without it and an image just doesn’t come.

“You look beautiful” he tells you, a hint of shyness in his tone and a blush rises in your cheeks that didn’t come from a makeup stick.

“Thank you. I’m sorry about tweedle-dee and tweedle-A-D-D in there” you joke, gesturing a thumb over your shoulder at your two cousins who are currently fighting each other over who gets to look through the small pane of glass next to the door to watch your interactions with Frankie on the front step.

“Unfortunately I’m very used to it” he quips, giving you a warm smile. “Shall we?” He asks, sweeping an arm out towards his truck idling at the curb and you nod your head and lead the way.

Before you reach the truck however Frankie jogs up behind you to brush past and ensures he reaches the passenger door handle before you do and opens it wide, offering you a hand to help you up and inside. You both decide to ignore the whooping yells and hands slamming on the glass next to the door at the top of the walkway behind you.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, shall we?” You offer once Frankie’s climbed into the driver's seat next to you and he chuckles but nods his head.

“With pleasure” he agrees and pulls the truck away from the curb.

You’re driving for nearly an hour. Frankie had apologized already on several occasions, admonishing himself for not preparing you beforehand to make sure you wouldn’t be too hungry when he picked you up. You tell him it's fine countless times but he still admits he should’ve discussed his plan with you ahead of time.

“Hey, if what you say is true and these really are the best tacos I’ve ever had, you’ll not only be forgiven but I’ll be glad I was ravenous by the time we get there” you tell him and finally he seems to accept it and offers you a small smile, hand going to the dial on the radio to turn the classic rock tunes up just a little bit for the last few minutes of your drive.

The drive is nice. The ocean follows along in your journey when you look out your window and the way the sun sits in the sky you know it’ll be threatening to set not long after you arrive at your destination. Truth be told you were a little nervous when you first started driving and Frankie mentioned how long the trip would be. You worried that you wouldn’t have much to chat about or that it might get awkward but it had been anything but. Besides Frankie’s little bouts of anxiety about whether or not he should’ve mentioned to you what time you’d actually be eating, everything was going better than you had expected. The conversation seemed to flow easily between the two of you. You had enough jumping off points, with both of you having more than your fair share of stories or anecdotes about Will and Benny. You shared stories of your youths while Frankie caught you up on some of the more recent goings-on with them that you hadn’t been privy to since, before recently, you obviously spent a lot less time with them in your adult years versus the childhood ones. Before long the conversations shifted more to yourselves and your own personal lives and before you knew it Frankie was pulling the truck into a crowded parking lot in front of the beach.

You make your way through the throngs of people on the boardwalk, Frankie’s warm hand on your lower back a steadying presence as he guides you through the crowds towards the brightly painted green and yellow food truck off in the not-too-far distance. Your mouth is watering already and you’re not sure whether it’s for the tacos or the man on your left with the broad shoulders and thick arms but a gentle, calming touch.

If you had to venture a guess, it would be for the latter.

Frankie, to his credit, was absolutely right about the tacos. You’re halfway through your third one when you finally tap out and call it quits, unable to possibly stomach another bite - despite how delicious they are.

“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t” you admit defeat to what’s left of your dinner, tossing your napkin on top of your paper plate and holding your hands up in surrender and the corner of Frankie’s mouth curls up into a smirk.

“They’re good right?” He grins at you from across the picnic table while he stuffs the last bite of his own into his mouth and you roll your eyes dramatically at how good in fact they were.

“They were amazing, seriously. Well worth the drive and the wait” you tell him sincerely and then before you can talk yourself out of it you reach across the table to place your hand on top of his and give a little squeeze with your fingers.

“Thank you for dinner. I’m um… really glad you asked me out tonight”

That confession earns you an ear to ear grin from Frankie who swallows down the last bit of his dinner and then turns his hand palm-up so he can hold your fingers in his grasp.

“Me too. But, the night’s not over” he offers with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

“There’s more?” Your brow line lifts to your forehead. “I’m going to need a few minutes to digest first” you laugh, placing a hand over your stomach and Frankie chuckles but nods his head in agreement.

“Take all the time you need,” he tells you.

The sun is beginning its descent from the sky as you sit at the table a while longer, happily chatting about everything and nothing. You ask Frankie more about his young daughter and can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips the way his face lights up when he speaks about her or shows you his favourite pictures or videos of her on his phone.

With your food finally settled you’re back to wandering the boardwalk again with Frankie leading the way. He stops you at an ice cream truck and you groan at the idea of having to shove more food into your stomach but the childish grin and teasing nudge to your side with his elbow convinces you to take him up on his offer anyway and you ask for small scoop of the bright orange Tiger Stripe flavour in a dish while Frankie opts for a waffle cone of classic Mint Chocolate Chip.

With no small effort you manage to finish the sweet dessert and toss your garbage into a nearby receptacle and Frankie nudges your shoulder with his and gestures with an outstretched arm towards the beach.

“Wanna go walk it off?” He suggests and you give him an easy smile, more than excited about taking a romantic walk down the beach at sunset with him.

The warm sand squishes between your toes as you walk the length of the beach. Frankie had insisted on carrying your shoes for you when you opted to take them off; the strappy sandals hanging from the fingertips of his right hand while his left brushes experimentally against the back of your right and you turn your palm towards him and he wastes no time taking hold, your fingers interlacing. You smile and press a little closer into his shoulder.

“This is perfect” you sigh as soft waves lap at your feet and the sun bids it’s final adieu for the evening, disappearing just past the horizon on the other side of the ocean.

“So I did good?” Frankie smirks at you and you let out a little laugh, nodding your head.

“Ten out of ten would recommend” you answer without hesitation.

“Recommend to who? If you think I’m taking Benny on a date next you’re poorly mistaken” he jokes and it earns an outburst of laughter from you as you grab onto his forearm with your free hand and lean further in still.

“You guys could make a pretty cute couple” you tease and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head in laughter.

“Already got the prettiest Miller on my arm, thank you very much” he affirms and your giggles die down as the blush re-emerges and you turn your gaze down to the sand at your feet and squeeze his arm just a little tighter as a thank you to his easy compliment.

You walk a little while longer, your fingers still entwined and your free hand wrapped around his arm that’s holding your hand, snuggling as close as possible while you continue to chat and joke and tease each other.

Being with Frankie seems so easy. Normally you were so nervous during first dates and it’s been so long since you’ve actually been on one you could barely remember what it normally feels like but you’re certain it’s never felt like this. You felt comfortable. And maybe a lot of that had to do with the fact that you’ve already met with and hung out with him on numerous occasions now there was less to be nervous about. But you think it’s mostly him. He’s so easy going and calm to be around; he just puts you at ease with one upward curve of his lips or the way his soft brown gaze seemingly bores into your very soul with a single look.

Besides that, you knew he must be a pretty decent guy or Will and Benny would’ve had something (aside from friendly teasing) to say about it. They were the big brothers you never had growing up, always looking out for you until your lives took you all down very separate paths and if they trusted Frankie with you, you knew you were in good hands.

Hands that were currently, mind you, smoothing up and down your sides as Frankie pressed you into the passenger door of his pickup as you stood on the street outside your temporary home saying your goodnights.

“Kiss me” you breathe into the limited space between your two bodies that are thrumming with unspent energy.

Not bothering with a verbal response, Frankie closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours finally for that first kiss you’ve been craving since he picked you up hours ago. He tastes like mint and chocolate, and although normally it would be one of the last options you go for at the ice cream shop, the way it tastes on Frankie’s tongue instantly makes it your new favourite.

The energy in the cab of his truck the whole ride back had been tangible, his right hand on your thigh, yours trying not to dig into the plush material of the seats as you tried to focus your mind on anything other than ordering him to pull the truck into park so you could crawl into his lap and thank him properly, the way you wanted to so badly.

“Hermosa,” Frankie groans, his mouth trailing now from your lips down your jaw and to the side of your throat as his hands grip your hips. The scruff of his beard brushes the delicate skin of your neck when he nuzzles further into you and heat instantly pools in the lower part of your belly, causing a little moan to slip out. You feel your breath quicken, heart rate speeding up to keep pace with Frankie’s that you can feel through your clothes with how closely he’s pressed against you. Your arms raise to wrap around his neck, hands playing with the soft curls at the back of his head, running your fingers through them (something you’d been dying to do since the first time you met him, if you’re being honest with yourself).

“Should’ve taken me back to yours” you whisper against his ear as he continues to nip, lick and kiss at your throat.

“Santi’s on my goddamn couch” he groans, annoyed.

You remembered, now that he’s said it. Santiago, another military buddy of your cousins that you’d met a few times and one of Frankie’s best friends, had been having problems with his girlfriend and a week ago she had actually kicked him out of their shared apartment and with you taking up residence in Will and Benny’s guest room, that left Frankie’s couch.

“Shit” you mutter. You don’t dare take him inside to your room. Though the house looks dark and the boys are probably asleep, that’s not something you’re going to chance. At least not on a first date. You don’t need their judgment, nor do you need Frankie holding anything back from you due to the unfortunate circumstances.

His mouth is back on yours, unable to stay away from it for long it seems. His tongue pushes inside and strokes alongside yours, causing a little shiver to run down your spine. He licks into your mouth, exploring every cavern and swallowing all your little whimpers and whines. Frankie was an amazing kisser. You can’t help but wonder how talented his tongue may be elsewhere; the thought alone sending a fresh wave of arousal through you and causing another moan to slip out which Frankie responds to with one of his own. His right hand leaves your hip and goes to your thigh next, gently raising your leg off the ground to wrap around him and a gasp escapes you when his hand slips under the hem of your dress and trails upwards towards your hip.

“Fuck, Frankie” you breathe, pulling back just enough so you can start peppering kisses to his strong jawline.

“Tell me to stop, fuck, you need to tell me stop” Frankie pleads. You can feel his obvious desire for you pressed into your stomach as his left hand moves down to grope your ass and pull you even closer against him.

“Mmm, don’t want to” you hum into his throat and he groans in desperation, rocking his hips into you and causing a delicious bit of friction where you need it most. Your whole body is tingling, feeling like you could combust at any moment. Your muscles are tense, hands fighting for purchase on any part of him they can grab onto, eager to keep him from convincing himself to pull away from you.

Just when you feel him begin to pull back you do the only thing that comes to mind and turn in his grasp and reach for the back passenger door of the crew cab, swinging it open and pulling him back towards you by the collar of his shirt.

“Fuck, Sweetheart” he stops dead in his tracks, feet outside on the ground still while your ass hits the back seat so you’re seated sideways on the seat, facing him.

“Look, I might not be up for Gentleman of the Year Award or anything, but I’m not… I can’t have our first time be in the back of my truck. You deserve so much better than that”

Your brain doesn’t miss how he says ‘first time’ like it implies that there will be more times, and god you hope there is. And while you don’t disagree with him that fucking in his car like teenagers isn’t maybe the most romantic way to do this, you still need something and you don’t want this night to be over yet.

“Just… come fool around with me a little bit” you shrug, coy little grin tugging at the corners of your lips and you see on his adorable face the moment his resolve crumbles. He’s hopping up into the truck in a flash, slamming the door shut behind him. He pushes you back onto the bench seat so you’re flat on your back and finally rips his hat off his head and tosses it carelessly somewhere to the floor and you’re in a fit of giggles at the playfulness of it all. The laughter dies on your lips however when he’s kneeled before your spread legs and drags your knees up to his hips and presses himself down on top of you, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss while his lower half grinds into yours.

“Is this OK?” He murmurs into the side of your face as his kisses trail towards your throat.

“Mmm hmm” you nod frantically. “More than OK” you promise.

He hums into your throat and brings his right hand to your breast, his large hand covering the mound and gently massaging the soft flesh, kneading and squeezing just right as your little moans and the way your back arches to push your chest further into his touch encourages him.

“Fuck,” he growls before shoving the front of your dress and cups of your bra down so he can get his mouth on bare skin.

He pulls away from your throat and shuffles down slightly, leaning down to swirl the tip of his tongue around the pert bud and then gently pull it into his mouth. He alternates between sucking it into his mouth and teasing with quick flicks of his tongue while nimble fingers pay the other equal attention and you writhe underneath him, grinding into his leg, desperate for any friction you can create.

“Perfect tits” he mumbles into your skin before his mouth switches sides. Your hands are in his hair, gently tugging and scratching over his scalp and the way he occasionally groans and grunts at your actions you know he likes it. You wish you weren’t shoved inside the back of his pickup right now. Oh the things you would let his mouth do to you if you weren’t…

After long minutes of attention spent on your breasts his mouth is finally back on yours. He moans into you when his tongue wraps around yours again and you decide to play a little dirty yourself and wrap your lips around his tongue and suck it into your mouth, just for a moment and then you release. You feel his hardened cock twitch against your hip when he grinds it into you.

“Tell me what you want, Baby” he asks between ragged breaths as his lips create a hot trail of open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone.

You decide to show him, rather than tell him, and reach for his right hand and bring it underneath your dress to the aching need between your thighs and he practically growls into your throat when he feels the damp spot that’s already formed on your panties.

“Oh my god” he groans, taking his first two fingers and rubbing your lower lips over the soft, soaked lace.

“Oh fuck, Frankie, you feel so good” you whine, not caring how wrecked you sound already.

His mouth covers yours again, his kiss hungry and needy as his fingers bravely dip under the waistline of your panties to finally touch your naked sex and push through the warm slick folds.

“Oh my god, make me come baby, please. Fuck.” You beg, your hands wrapping around his neck again and grabbing on for dear life. It’s been far too long and Frankie is quickly unraveling you into a mewling desperate mess.

“I’ve got you, Hermosa” Frankie promises, his breath hot against your ear now and you don’t doubt that he does. His skilled digits are already driving you crazy and he’s barely begun. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while, or maybe Frankie just really knows his way around a pussy.

He plunges two fingers inside of you and you cry out at the welcomed intrusion, whimpering into his shoulder at how he’s nearly got you undone already.

“God you feel fucking amazing” he groans into your heated flesh.

“Fuck Frankie, don’t stop, please” you whimper.

He doesn’t. His fingers continue their torturous assault, pumping in and out of you and occasionally coming out to rub tight little circles around your small bundle of nerves that causes your arm to shoot up in the air, palm of your hand pushing hard against the ceiling of the truck cab as your impending orgasm lingers threateningly.

“Let me touch you, please” you beg and Frankie growls in response before his free hand goes to his pants and nearly rips them open so he can push them down to his thighs and your hand immediately wraps around his throbbing length.

“Holy shit” you breathe. Your fingers failing to quite reach all the way around his impressive girth. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, precum steadily leaking from the head that you gather in your hand to use to coat down the rest of his length.

“Christ” Frankie grunts, unable to stop himself from thrusting his hips once to fuck into your hand. “Shit I’m sorry it’s um, been a while” he confesses shyly and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“For me too” you tell him, easing his nerves. “God Frankie, I’m so close”

With that he pulls his hand away from you for only a moment, bringing it to his mouth to wet his fingers with his tongue and then they’re back on your clit, experimenting between rubbing and circling and pressing and even lightly pinching until he finds out exactly what makes you squirm under him and he doubles his efforts, working you faster and faster with the pads of his fingertips until you’re coming hard and fast with his name on your lips as you rock into his hand to chase the pressure of his touch.

“Oh fuck, that’s it” Frankie groans into the hollow of your throat, his fingers sticky and slick with your release. “God you’re so beautiful” he praises, pressing kisses to every inch of flesh he can reach.

His fingers continue to languidly stroke through your folds, easing you down from your high while his own breathing picks up at your continued actions below; practiced strokes of your hand wrapped around him while your thumb occasionally ghosts over his slit, gathering the evidence of his arousal and smearing it all over the thick and sensitive head.

“Fuck, I’m close” he warns, eyes screwed shut in concentration, his forehead now resting against yours. “Fuck!” He curses again and then quickly sits up on his knees, causing your hand to fall away from him and he takes himself in hand to finish himself off, not wanting to make a mess all over you or your pretty dress. Not having much option he yanks his shirt up instead and coats his own stomach with white hot ropes of his release until he’s left heaving and panting on his knees before you, free hand clutched tight on your knee beside him, fingers digging in deep enough you think they’ll leave bruises.

You’ll wear them like a badge of honor.

“Shit,” he breathes and then huffs out a little laugh. His eyes dart around for a moment and then he reaches into the little pocket on the back of the front passengers seat and pulls out a somewhat squished little pack of wet wipes (one of the conveniences of having a small child you presume, always lots of supplies around that adults might not otherwise think of keeping handy) and grabs a couple sheets and wipes up the mess he made of himself before shoving the wipes back into the pocket. You’re staring up at him, tip of your pointer finger between your teeth and a coy grin playing on your lips.

That was by far the absolute hottest make out session you’d ever had. Where has Frankie Morales been all your life, and what had you done to deserve him now?

“Are you still OK? That was… OK?” He asks and it’s sweet how he doesn’t even know how badly he just rocked your whole world.

“Ten out of ten would recommend” you retort teasingly, lifting your foot to push gently at his hip and he rolls his eyes playfully and lands a little swat to your thigh.

“Smartass. Maybe I oughta trade you in for Benny after all” he quips. “Get a lot less lip I bet”

“Hmm, but probably a lot less tongue too” you tease right back and he groans as you yank him down on top of you by his collar once more.

You’re not quite finished with Frankie Morales just yet.

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[jagibee]

Call Me Luna

(Stray Kids x Reader)

Chapter 5

5,842 words

A/N: So so so very sorry for the delay! I’ve had like 3 major life changes since I’ve last posted so please forgive me😭

…

Sent

hi

bangfuckingchan

Hi :]

Oh my god he even uses that face in his texts.

By this time, it was around half an hour before the company car was picking you up again. You had all your stuff ready and were just waiting, and you decided to text Chan because you had his goddamn number and what stupid idiot would not text him?

Sent

I was just wondering… are there any Korean-specific subgender-based cultural norms that I should know about?

bangfuckingchan

None that I can think of. Felix might hug you at some point and the others probably won’t but that’s more of their personalities than any cultural things. And we won’t blame you for not knowing everything about Korea! Felix went through the same thing when he moved here (and so did I many many centuries ago) so we all understand that it can be a lot and we want to help in any way we can!

After squealing into your pillow for a bit, you got the notification that the car was here. Before you rushed down, you remembered to respond to him.

Sent

You’re literally too nice! See you in a bit!

bangfuckingchan

Hey, let me know when you arrive at the building! I can walk you in!

How were you supposed to survive today?

When the car arrived at the company, you made sure to tell Chan.

bangfuckingchan

Great! See you down there ;)

What the hell was the winky face for? Was he trying to give you a heart attack?

You turned to watch the car drive away while you waited and then shifted your gaze to a nice omega couple who were laughing and holding hands as they walked. Smiling to yourself, you turned back to the company building just in time to see Chan jog out.

Stopping in front of you, he grinned and held out a large iced coffee.

You smiled back while cocking your head in confusion. “Hi?”

He shook the drink which made the ice rattle. “I got you a coffee.”

“Oh my- you didn’t have to do that!” Your heart warmed as your gaze flickered between the drink and his face.

He shrugged in response. “I had to buy coffee for all the kids anyway, and I should really pay you back for the food last night.” He rattled the drink again.

Taking it, you raised your eyebrows at him. “Again, the company paid for that. It wasn’t my money.”

Chan looked to the side. “Yeah, well, the company pays me and I bought that with money they paid me so if you think about it, the company paid for that, too. Ah!” He looked back at you. “If you don’t like coffee or iced Americanos, you don’t have to drink it! I wanted to surprise you and most of the kids drink iced Americanos, but next time I’ll ask!”

You shook your head at him. “Next time? You anticipate buying me coffee often?”

He smiled even wider at you. “Well, we can’t have our star caretaker falling asleep on the job, can we?”

You giggled at that. “Star caretaker? You’ve known me for less than 24 hours and I haven’t even met the rest of your pack, I don’t think you can really judge my caretaking abilities based on that.”

Chan’s smile morphed into a smirk. “Yeah, but you bought me food, so that tells me enough.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “You are ridiculous.”

His jaw dropped. “Hey, I will take that coffee back! I’m sure one of my members will enjoy the extra caffeine!”

Hugging the coffee to your chest, you hissed at him jokingly. “Stay away from my coffee!”

You turned away and saw Jisu step out of the building, holding a few papers and a pen. “Ah, Y/N!” She narrowed her eyes at the sight of you and Chan but seemed to ignore it as she turned to you and handed you one of her papers. “Here is your schedule for today, each of the caretakers will meet one-on-one with a member from the caretaking department, and you are actually assigned to me. There’s just a couple more things sign pertaining to what you can and can’t say on camera or in public, and then you should be done with all that. Then you will meet with your band’s leaders, or,” she paused, glancing at Chan who had been standing silently behind you the whole time, “in your case, you’ll be meeting a few of the other members. That will be in time for lunch, which you can get from the cafeteria and after you eat with the members, Bang Chan can dictate what you do with the rest of your day and if you will spend more time with the band or not.”

You turned slightly to see Chan smile at you softly. “Nah,” he said, tilting his head, “I think I’ll probably kick her out of the company by then.”

You resisted the urge to kick him and settled for a flick on the shoulder.

He cupped his hand over where you flicked him and stumbled backwards dramatically, causing you to roll your eyes in response. Yeah, like he can even feel it through those damn arm muscles.

Turning back to Jisu, you saw she had a calculating look on her face, cat-eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. You straightened up and adjusted your outfit in order to appear more professional. She blinked a couple times before fidgeting with the pen in her hands. “Shall we get going, then?”

You nodded and followed her into the building and up the elevator, staying silent the whole time.

Yesterday, Jisu had been professional, but today she seemed colder. You got through a presentation and a couple contracts without her saying a single word other than what she had to, and when she did speak, there was no emotion in her voice at all.

Oh, god, is she jealous of me? Does she have a thing for Chan?

You thought back to your interaction earlier.

She didn’t really say a single word to him, did she? She just looked at him when she talked about him. But he didn’t really say anything to her either, which seems a bit unlike him.

Your phone buzzed, bringing you away from your thoughts. You glanced up at Jisu and saw her turning away from you. Checking your phone subtly under the table, you couldn’t help smiling.

bangfuckingchan

Link -> The Top Ten Best Mini Fridges For Sale

bangfuckingchan

Should I get the one that plays elevator music? I’m sure that won’t get irritating fast

Seeing Jisu concentrated on looking over the last contract, you texted Chan back.

Sent

How do you know it’s elevator music?

bangfuckingchan

Actually the review says it plays Happy Birthday. My bad!

You muffled a giggle at that.

Sent

But that’s even better! Now, when it’s one of your members’ birthdays, instead of sitting awkwardly while 7 other dudes sing happy birthday, they can sit awkwardly while the fridge sings happy birthday!

bangfuckingchan

Yeah but it doesn’t actually have the lyrics, just the music :’(

Sent

Ooh so the fridge can play music while 7 other dudes sing Happy Birthday! Maximum Awkwardness!

You saw Jisu straighten up out of the corner of your eye and you put your phone away.

She smiled politely at you, looking just a bit less playful than the way she smiled yesterday. “Alright, Y/N, it seems like you’re finally done with the contracts and presentations. I’ll be taking you to meet Chan and the others now.”

On the way to wherever it was that Jisu was leading you, she walked briskly and you had to basically jog to keep up. You pondered asking her what was wrong but you figured that after only two days, you weren’t exactly bestie-level friends.

She stopped in front of a door and knocked. Quicker than you expected, a curly-haired, beanie-covered head poked out of the room and smiled at you.

“Y/N! Hi!” Chan exclaimed, like he hadn’t just texted you a couple minutes ago.

Jisu cleared her throat. “Alright, I will be in Conference Room 6B if anyone needs me.” With that, she walked off seemingly even faster than she walked here.

Unfazed, Chan turned to you. “Are you ready to meet the others?”

You took a deep breath and tried to shake your nerves out. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do this.”

Your heart pounded as you stepped through the doorway.

The first thing you noticed was the smell. After working all day with just you and Jisu, each wearing heavy duty scent blockers, you had gotten used to the relatively scentless air of the company building, but when you walked into the room, there were several sweet scents overlapping to fill the space.

It looked to be a dance studio, but a bit smaller than the ones that idols usually had in their dance practice videos, and there was a circle of wooden crates in the very center of the room, some of which were occupied by-

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Holy motherfucking shit.

You were in a room with over half of Stray Kids.

And they were staring at you. Fuck, do something cool, you told yourself. Before you could do something that would have been completely awkward and embarrassing and unforgettable, your hours of Jisu’s and Kwang-sun’s etiquette classes kicked in and you bowed and greeted them formally.

The members on the crates glanced at each other briefly. Felix was curled up against I.N on one of the larger boxes and had their legs splayed out on another. Hyunjin had shoved a few crates together to lay down all the way with his head in Lee Know’s lap, his neck in some sort of headlock/neck hug from the older boy.

Chan appeared beside you after shutting the door, resting his hand on your back.

“Hey, guys, this is Y/N.” He turned to smile at you. “Our new caretaker.”

His warm voice and soft eyes made you feel like you were in your own nest back home with a nice hot drink and your favorite book. Before you spent too long staring at Chan, you turned your head to the shuffling coming from the other boys.

Felix had untangled himself from I.N and made his way over, beaming at you. He grasped both of your hands in his and met your gaze. “Hello, Y/N! It’s nice to meet you!”

You had to quit. You had to. You could not handle Lee fucking Felix saying your name in that perfect voice or his flawless hands gently holding yours. This was going to kill you.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed his hands. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I look forward to working with you.”

You felt something bump your hip and turned to see Chan grinning mischievously. “There’s no need to be so formal, Y/N. None of us are that serious.”

Your jaw dropped in mock offense. “I’m just trying to make a good impression!”

Chan rolled his eyes at you sarcastically before smiling and showing off his dimples. “The company has already hired you and made you sign a thousand contracts, you would have to make a pretty bad impression for us to get rid of you. Plus, you gave me food, so I already like you. Speaking of which,” he added, looking back at the others, “we should get some lunch. Any suggestions?”

Hyunjin suddenly started wriggling around violently in Minho’s grasp. “I suggest that hyung lets go of me so I can talk to Y/N properly!”

Minho, who had been staring at you analytically, turned his gaze to the boy in his lap who was still squirming frantically. Then he looked up at Chan. “Hyunjin wants tissues for lunch. Think we can arrange that?”

Felix giggled and squeezed your hands again while Chan shut his eyes and sighed. “I thought we agreed to be on our best behavior.”

Minho’s eyebrows raised at his pack alpha. “When did I agree to that, hyung? You just said we should be on our best behavior and assumed, incorrectly, that we would agree. I think she should see us at our worst. That way, we can only get better.”

You smiled at him. “I think that if feeding each other tissues is really your worst, I don’t have too much to worry about.”

After you said that, Minho’s eyes narrowed at you appraisingly and his mouth twitched like he wanted to say something more.

Suddenly, Jeongin spoke. “Trust me, hyung, that is definitely not your worst. Hopefully, for her sake, she will never have to see that. And hopefully, for my sake, I never have to see it again.”

Minho turned to the youngest. “What do you think is the worst?”

Chan cleared his throat. “Any edible suggestions for lunch?”

“Pfft. You can eat paper.”

Chan fixed Minho with a glare until the younger rolled his eyes. “Fine. There’s that place a couple streets down that we ate from when we got back from Bangkok.”

“Sounds good!” Chan clapped his hands together. “Anyone against it?”

The younger members shook their heads and stayed relatively silent while Chan called to order, only to start up again when I.N asked Minho if he ate paper a lot as a child.

When Minho had launched himself across the crate circle at the youngest, Hyunjin was finally released. He sat up and dashed over to you and Felix, smiling shyly at you.

“Hello, Y/N.”

“Hello, Hyunjin.” Looking over the two beside you, you felt a quiver of excitement. “So this is it,” you told them, “you’re my omegas.”

They enchanged glances and turned to smile at you even wider. “Yeah,” Felix said, “I guess so!” He took one of his hands from your little tangle and offered it to Hyunjin, who took it, and in turn, offered you his own. You placed your hand in Hyunjin’s, completing the circle.

“I hope I do well,” you murmured, “I can’t believe I get to work with some of the prettiest and most talented omegas on the planet.”

Two pairs of ears had turned red when Chan walked over, finishing his call to the restaurant. “Okay,” he announced, “the food should be here in about 45 minutes. In the meantime-”

A shriek was heard from the other side of the room, where Minho and Jeongin had been wrestling. Currently, Minho was sitting on top of the other boy and a spare pair of sweatpants had seemingly materialized out of nowhere and been wrapped around I.N’s head.

Chan sighed and went over to help settle things.

You looked at Felix and Hyunjin and frowned. “Should I help?”

Hyunjin shook his head at you. “Ah, no. It’s better to just leave them to sort it out.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “Alphas.”

Sure enough, Chan was walking back to your small circle with Minho thrown over his shoulder. Jeongin trailed behind, his hair going in all different directions, but with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“As I was saying,” Chan stated casually, like he wasn’t carrying a grown man over his shoulder, “the food will be here soon, so I figured that we could use this time to ask Y/N things in order to get to know her. What do you think?”

You realized his last question was addressing you. “Oh! That sounds perfect. Ask whatever you want.”

Chan smiled at you, showing off his dimples. “Great! Shall we have a seat?”

You and the boys maneuvered the crates until you each got comfortable. Minho had sat down on one and immediately pulled Felix into his lap, without much protest from the younger boy. Hyunjin was on the floor leaning back against a crate and had Jeongin resting between his legs. Chan had opted to sit closer to you with both of you sitting on the long crate.

“Y/N!” Chan turned to you. “Are there any questions you want to ask us?”

You tilted your head to the side, thinking. “Hmm. I guess, what do you want me to call each of you? Do you want me to call you by your stage names or any nicknames or anything?”

Chan looked around at the others. “I think most of us don’t really care about what you call us. Our fans call us by every nickname we have so as long as you aren’t insulting us or anything, anything should be fine. Everyone agree?”

Minho raised his hand slightly from where it had been resting around Felix’s waist. “I actually don’t care off-camera, but I would prefer if you called me ‘Lee Know’ on camera.”

You nodded at him. “I can do that for sure. Anything else?”

He shrugged back at you. “That’s it.”

“Okay.” You smiled at everyone. “I don’t actually have any more questions, so you guys can ask me questions now.”

Felix squirmed in Minho’s lap. “Can we- no, nevermind.”

Chan frowned. “No, Felix, what were you going to say?”

“You can ask me anything,” you told him. “If I’m going to be your caretaker, we should be comfortable with each other.”

Felix hesitated for a second before speaking again. “Is it alright if- you can totally say no- but…” He paused and laced his fingers through Minho’s, continuing to stare down at them. “Could you… take your scent blockers off? I just want to get used to your scent if we’re going to be around each other a lot.”

You sat up a bit straighter. “Of course! Can I- am I allowed to take my scent blockers off here?”

Turning to Chan, you saw him furrow his eyebrows together. “Yeah,” he responded, “the eight of us usually like to hang out without them, so if it’s just us without any managers or other staff, we don’t usually wear blockers. All of the other employees know to knock to give us time to reapply them before they come in, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Alright,” you murmured, “if everyone is comfortable with it.” You glanced around the circle but no one protested.

Slowly, you reached a hand to pull off your scent blocker.

Your floral-earthy scent washed over the others and they took a moment to take it in.

You glanced at each of them to observe their reactions. Having smelled it before, Chan just smiled softly. I.N slumped more from in between Hyunjin’s legs and Hyunjin blinked rapidly. Minho’s hands tightened around Felix’s waist before relaxing again, and Felix closed his eyes and leaned back against him.

With the blocker off, your own sense of smell was heightened and the scents of the others became stronger. With all five of them, it was hard to differentiate the different smells, but you sort of liked the chaotic mix that belonged to them.

A pinging sound broke you and the others out of your trance and Chan fished his phone out of his pocket. “Ah,” he muttered, “the food’s here.”

“I’ll get it,” Minho said, standing up suddenly and picking up Felix from his place on his lap. A small whine escaped the younger boy in surprise as he was yanked up, but he quieted when Minho deposited him in Chan’s lap.

Chan’s only reaction was to rest his hands on Felix’s hips. You got the feeling that them passing each other around like stuffed animals wasn’t anything new.

While Minho put on a fresh scent blocker and got himself together to go down and get the food, Felix peeked at you from his place against Chan’s neck.

“Wait.” Something suddenly occurred to you and you turned to Chan. “I thought we were supposed to eat the cafeteria food. Why did you order something?”

He rested his head on top of Felix’s and squinted at you. “The cafeteria food is good, but you deserve something better for your first day with us. Plus,” he added, eyes glinting, “I owe you for last night.”

You pouted at him. “I told you that you don’t have to pay me back. That was the company’s money, and you already got me a coffee!”

“Oh,” Hyunjin piped up. “So that’s why you got an extra coffee this morning. I knew you weren’t ‘just trying something new,’ you liar.”

Chan gaped at him. “Uh, technically, I’ve never given coffee to Y/N before, so I was trying something new, and I wasn’t lying.”

“Hyung, oh my god,” I.N groaned. “No one cares about your coffee and whether or not you were lying.” His head slumped in your direction. “Noona, just let him buy food for you. It makes him happy. Part of his whole ‘head alpha leader’ thing.”

You giggled at that. “Fine. But it’s literally in my job description for me to take care of you guys, so let me buy you food every once in a while, okay?”

Chan opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by Minho entering the room.

“Yah, come and get it, you gremlins!”

The younger members swarmed the takeout bags while you and Chan followed more slowly. Soon, they had the food all laid out on the floor and you crouched down beside it. I.N scooted over to sit between you and Minho on your right, Felix sat on your left, leaning against Hyunjin on his other side, and Chan took his place directly across from you.

While the others were sorting the food, Chan handed out water bottles to everyone. “Does our maknae want to say anything?”

Jeongin unscrewed the cap and lifted the bottle in a toast. “Y/N-noona, welcome and good luck. Hyungs, don’t embarrass me or yourselves too much.”

You and the others laughed and they rolled their eyes while you each drank.

The group started eating in relative silence, occasionally one of them would ask what you liked and would pass you something to try, but they seemed to be pretty concentrated on eating.

Then, Minho broke the silence. “So Y/N, what exactly is your interaction with us supposed to be like on camera?”

Putting your bowl down, you considered his question. “Well, for now, they don’t want me going on lives or doing anything super public because I guess I haven’t built that trust yet. I’ll travel with you through the airport, go to your concerts, and be with you whenever all eight of you are together, but if you all have individual schedules, I’ll just go where I’m needed. That will probably be worked out between Chan, your managers, and I.”

You paused for a second, swirling your spoon in your bowl thoughtfully. “They also want me to be sort of known? I’ll be on camera more than your managers and they want to make it clear to the public that you guys and the other groups have caretakers, but they don’t really want to put a spotlight on me as a person. They want someone with a caretaker title and maybe a face to that title, but they don’t want people to be super interested in me.”

Minho’s eyebrows furrowed. “That’s going to backfire.”

Your head tilted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “The more mysterious you are, the more people will be interested in you. Or they’ll just make things up in order to give you a personality and suddenly there are rumors all over the place.”

You took another bite of food before responding. “I’ll just continue doing what the company tells me. If it backfires, it’s on them and not me. Plus, I don’t really care about rumors. I know who I am and no matter what random people on the Internet have to say, I’ll still be the same person.”

Hyunjin laughed at that. “So much backbone! Binnie-hyung is going to love you!”

You smirked at him. “And you? Do you love me?”

Hyunjin blinked in surprise but before he responded, Felix piped up from between the two of you. “Hey, noona, you said you’re going to be with us when it’s all eight of us, but what about the dorms? Are you staying at one of them or going back and forth?”

You couldn’t help but smile at Felix when he shoveled a few too many noodles into his mouth. “I’ll actually be getting my own place,” you explained. “The company agreed because it means that you guys won’t be suffocated by me right away and if you ever need a mental break away from cameras or the other members, my apartment will be sort of a neutral zone for you to just chill. Actually,” you added, checking the date on your phone, “I’m supposed to look at apartments this weekend.”

“Really?” Chan looked up from his own food. “I’ll go with you.”

You choked on the bite you had just taken. After clearing your throat, you shook your head at him. “You don’t have to do that! You’re probably busy anyway.”

He shrugged. “I was just planning on working in the studio but I’ve been spending too much time in there anyway. Plus, I could help you find a space that’s good for all of us.”

You hummed. “That does make sense, but you really don’t have to if you don’t want to!”

Chan waved his chopsticks at you. “No no no no, I want to go with you!”

“Alright,” you huffed. “You can come with me, if you really want to.”

“Can I come, too?”

You turned to Jeongin and tilted your head. “You want to come?”

He nodded shyly and turned to Chan. “I don’t have any schedules in the morning.”

Chan shrugged back at him. “It’s fine with me if it’s alright with Y/N.”

You smiled at both of them. “Sure. I’m supposed to meet the real estate person at 9. I’ll text you the address.”

Hyunjin sighed loudly and flopped backwards. “Why do I have to have a vocal lesson? I want to go apartment shopping!”

Felix giggled and laid back until his head rested on Hyunjin’s stomach. “Hey, at least the rest of us can’t go either. We can all suffer together.”

Minho groaned and stood up. “If everyone is done eating, we should start practicing soon. I gave us an extra long break already.”

You all helped to clean up and shove the crates to the corner of the room. Chan told you that this was all they had for the day so you could just sit back and watch them.

“But this is brand new choreography,” he added playfully, “don’t take a video and spoil our moves on Twitter!”

You laughed at that. “I think that would violate around seven of my contracts.”

He smiled and took his place.

You watched them dance for a while, time seemed to slow down and pass faster at the same time.

Their moves were hypnotizing and there was one point where you audibly gasped and Minho turned back to smirk at you.

Your phone screen told you that a little over an hour had passed before the boys finally took a break. Each of them collapsed on the spot except for Minho, who made his way over to you.

With four other sweaty men in the room, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint his scent, and you didn’t remember what his file had said, but you could tell that he smelled sweet, which was a bit surprising. You had expected an alpha like him to have a harsher scent. A scent that deodorant companies would bottle up and name something like “CLIFF JUMP” or “CAR CRASH”. Maybe Minho would be “TIGER FANGS” if he had a scent like you had expected.

But he didn’t.

He sat next to you, wrapping a washcloth around his neck and draining his water bottle. “So.” He turned to face you. “What do you think?”

You raised your eyebrows at him jokingly. “I think your fans would appreciate more twerking.”

Hyunjin burst into a cackle and turned over so he was laying on his belly, then pressed his forehead into the floor. The others still seemed too exhausted to laugh, let alone move.

You smiled at them and made your way over to their water bottles, trying your best to remember which one belonged to which member.

You passed them out, receiving grateful smiles in exchange. When you got to Chan, instead of drinking from his bottle like the rest of the boys were and like any normal person would do after an hour of intense dancing, he just hugged his water bottle to his chest and grinned at you lazily.

“Thanks, Y/N. You didn’t have to do that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s literally in my job description to take care of you all. When are you going to get that through your head, Bang Chan?” You huffed, kicking his feet.

“Don’t even try with him, noona,” I.N wheezed, finally able to speak. “Hyung is allergic to being cared for.”

“Yeah,” you mused, “I got the feeling.”

They danced for a few more hours, using the last half to practice their older songs and keep them fresh.

At one point, you were caught unconsciously moving your arms and legs like the dance called for. Your face went hot when the boys started imitating you and calling you cute.

One of these days, you were going to die of a heart attack.

At least you would die happy.

At the end of dance practice, Felix sank into the seat next to you and laid his head on your shoulder. You were a bit surprised at the affection but you welcomed it happily, lifting your hand to run through his hair.

Chan came to stand in front of you, the other members packing up their water bottles in their bags.

“So,” he huffed, still not fully recovered from the workout, “do you want to quit yet or do you still think you can handle eight of us?”

You smiled at him teasingly. “Are you that desperate for me to quit? You could just fire me, at least I would get a good compensation package.”

Before Chan could respond, you felt a tug at your wrist and turned to see Felix sniffing along it. When he caught your curious gaze, his eyes widened and he dropped your wrist like it burned him.

“Sorry!” He licked his lips and your thoughts evaporated momentarily. “I didn’t- you just smell so good, noona.” He scooted away from you and looked guiltily at Chan.

Choosing to analyze that later, you moved back into Felix’s space. “Hey, it’s alright! Here,” you grasped his wrist in your hands, mirroring his previous position, “I’ll smell you and that way we’re even. If that’s okay with you.”

He smiled softly and nodded at you, so you lifted his wrist to your nose and- oh fuck.

Felix’s scent flooded your senses. It smelled mostly like lemon but with a hint of something sweet as well. Maybe lemon pie or lemon cake? Definitely something lemon flavored with frosting. You felt like you could have started floating like a cartoon character when they smell something tasty. It wasn’t fair that he could smell like this after hours of intense dancing.

“Shit.”

You looked up at the word and were honestly surprised to see the other boys there. It really just felt like you and Felix floating on a lemony cloud. Even Chan’s presence had faded away.

Hyunjin was staring at you with his mouth parted, his hands paused where they had been rifling through his bag.

You froze. What the hell did he mean by that? Were you going to be fired for smelling Felix? And right after you had joked about getting fired? What kind of sick irony was that?

Before you could spiral any further, Hyunjin turned to Chan with his lips pouted. “Hyung,” he whined, “they’re too sexy for people who are already cute! Tell them they can’t be cute and sexy!”

You snorted at that. “Well, then you’re breaking your own rule, Hwang Hyunjin.”

His mouth parted in surprise before his lips moved into a shy smile as he looked away and zipped up his bag.

Chan made sure everyone’s scent patches were on and they had their things before exiting the dance studio. You walked down to the cars, listening as the boys decided to just take one car and have Hyunjin spend the night at the other dorm. Chan told them he was staying at the studio, which surprised no one, but the announcement was still met with groans.

“Hey, you can’t just blame me this time,” he said defensively, “Changbin and Hannie are joining me there!”

The groans of the others continued. “That doesn’t make it better,” I.N muttered.

Chan rolled his eyes as you made your way outside and shoved them towards one of the waiting vans. Minho started corralling them while Chan waited with you for the next van to pull up. Felix suddenly shot forward and wrapped his arms around you, tucking his head into your neck like he was trying his best to smell you despite the scent blockers you wore. You hugged him back before Minho patted Felix’s butt in a little “let’s go” gesture. The two of them along with Jeongin and Hyunjin waved at you as they finally got into the van.

“Bye, noona!” “See you, noona!” “It was nice to meet you, noona!”

You smiled and waved back at the younger members. Minho, the last one to get in, turned to you. “I hope you manage to survive meeting the others,” he smirked.

As they drove off, Chan edged closer to you and bumped your shoulder with his. “That went well, I think.”

You grinned at him. “Yeah, just be sure to let me know if any of them secretly hate me.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “They like you more than they like me, but sure.”

“Just wait until I have them kick you out and elect me to be the new leader of Stray Kids.”

The van pulled up next to the two of you. Chan sighed. “Well, I guess this is it. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. Or should I say leader-nim?”

His eyes glimmered at you in a way that made you want to take a picture and keep it in your wallet.

In order to keep what was left of your sanity, you turned to the van and opened the door. “Call me what you want,” you told him over your shoulder, “but can I call you mine?”

You took a seat in the van and watched his jaw drop before he started giggling. You closed the door and watched him as you drove away. He was still smiling and had brought his hands up to half-cup half-hide his face.

I could get used to a view like this.

…

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[readychilledwine]

Requiem for a Dream

Part 3: Change

(Two months into Rhysand's Return home)

Rhysand and Rhiannon are still walking around their sexual tension, but our high lord has finally decided enough is enough. After a month of lingering touching, glances, and true re-courtship, he wants his mate in his bed.

Warnings - Smut, NSFW, D/S dynamics (daddy/Princess and sex slave/master) ownership kink, praise kink, oral (F Recv), not edited. Minors- DNI

A/N - This is kind of that last step before the peak of Rhys, in reality, reclaiming his sexual being, which is a journey a lot of SA survivors go through. While everyone's journey is different and models different patterns, I felt Rhysand's NEEDED to show aspects of regaining domination and control, and I do not feel that was truly shown or touched on by SJM.

Rhiannon's character, at this point, may not be for everyone. She is very submissive due to her own trauma and back story I crafted for her. Let me know your thoughts, feelings, if you want more, have gripes. Also, the song in mind is "Change (In the House of Flies)" by Deftones. The theme to one of my absolute favorite movie sex scenes in history.

Author ps - as an active member of the kink scene, I see festish written on here, but it never comes with this warning and when we do not know who is reading our stories, I feel like it needs to be said.

Please DO NOT ENGAGE IN BDSM with a partner you do not fully trust. BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, all varieties, and sex in general need to be based on trust and the care for each other's emotional well-being. You all deserve the best, give yourselves the ability to have that 💜 love yourself enough to WANT and NEED to have that.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Part One Part Two Part Four

Rhys had convinced Rhiannon to join him for dinner alone in the River House. They ate in silence, hands held over the table. They were dressed casually. She was wearing a dark plum sweater that went down to her mid thigh, tight black leggings and fuzzy socks. Rhysand had on a cream sweater with casual pants.

He had asked the twins to make her favorite meal. Elk steaks, potatoes with gravy, greens, and homemade bread and butter. He had personally flown into Velaris, arriving at a sweet shop his mate absolutely loves, asking if they had her favorite cupcakes available that day. They had made them for him, without hesitation as he did some other shopping for her. She was eyeing them with a sparkle he had not seen from her since his arrival home. But after all, what female could possibly resist the imported vanilla and sea salt caramel this bakery used.

"When were you going to call on the bargain with Feyre? I'm worried about her powers eating her alive." Rhys looked at Rhiannon. "He won't train her. She needs to be with someone who will."

Rhys nodded. "I assume the realm gave you that information?" She nodded. "I would like to ensure my own home and court are on a stable foundation before bringing her here."

Rhiannon was no fool. She knew immediately what he meant. She gently put her silverware down, turning to look at her husband. "I did not realize there were issues in the foundation. Is something wrong in the court?"

Rhysand sighed. He wouldn't be able to woo her now. This conversation was happening, and it was happening much sooner than he anticipated for the night. "Not necessarily with the court itself. I worry more about my family and Inner Circle." Rhys paused to turn to her, "My wife hasn't kissed me since I arrived home, despite many chances and opportunities to do so. I keep attempting to recourt her with countless gifts, praise, and flirtation, but I just cannot seem to bring her into my bed." Rhys paused to watch her look down. "You are my most trusted advisor when it comes to Illyrian Females, Rhiannon. Do you have any suggestions on how I can get my wife to be close to me again?"

Rhiannon put her silverware down, clearing her throat before responding. "Is she possibly afraid that reciprocating your affections may hurt you or the progress you've made?"

Rhysand smirked, finally getting the answers he needed. "I would not know," he laced their fingers together. "Aside from asking me how my day was, doing her duties to fill me in on her assignments, and small conversations, she has all but closed me out. I know she loves me. I just worry that maybe I am not doing enough to show her I would like to begin the process of us going back to who we are."

Rhiannon felt tears lining her eyes. "I know you still have nightmares about her, Rhys. I just feel like sleeping with you, touching you, or even kissing you is retraumatizing you. I love you too much to risk hurting you emotionally and mentally."

He nodded, taking a sip of his wine before beginning to speak to her. "I appreciate how much you care. I have always loved your empathy and kindness, darling. I want to sleep with you at my side, though. I want to hold you. To kiss you. To fuck you until I cannot tell where you stop and I begin." He took another deep drink. "I am ready to try, my nightingale. I need to try. Madja believes I am ready. I believe I am ready. Please, Rhiannon, come to bed with me tonight."

She nodded. "And we will stop if it is too much?" He sent her confirmation down the bond. "Mor made me wear something pretty under this for you. Just in case." His ears perked up at that. He took her hand, dinner long forgotten, and pulled her to their large bedroom.

Rhysand took the chair that sat across from their bed, leaning forward on his elbows as Rhiannon stood close to him. "Take your clothing off." Her scent hit him immediately. The sweet scent of her arousal mixed with the normal soft smell of moonflowers and honey. He watched, eyes fixated on every inch of slowly exposed skin as her sweater was removed and set on the desk near them.

She went to remove her leggings next after he gave her a nod, exposing her muscled thighs to him first. He groaned loudly at the sight of her mating mark. The delicate pattern of swirls and stars that ran the expanse of her leg, mapping out the night sky at the exact time they accepted the bond.

Mor had picked a wonderful little set for her to wear. A black haltered bra made of strictly lace and mesh that left nothing to his imagination, a matching high waist thong, and stockings that stopped at her midthigh. He patted his lap, leaning back as she crawled to straddle him.

They studied each other for a few seconds. His fingers ghosting the new muscles she had earned while training with Cassian, then her pretty throat, then her breasts and stomach, before reaching her panty line. "Mate, please." The bond was banging like a war drum in both of their ribcages, right where it connected their hearts. "Rhysand, please."

He pulled her to him, locking their lips for the first time in 50 years and moaning at the taste of her. It was exactly how he remembered, yet so different. Her lips were soft on his, tasting faintly of the sweet red wine she had been drinking. The bond began to almost hum, begging for more.

She fully submitted to him, allowing him to control the pace and pressure. One of his arms quickly wrapped around her hourglass waist while the other went up her back, allowing his hand to tangle into her hair.

It was a familiar position to them. One they had been caught in countless times by Azriel, by Cassian, by his mother. He almost smiled, remembering the first time Azriel had walked in on Rhysand pounding into his sister while she moaned and cried for him. Every single punch of the absolute beating her older brother had given him that day was worth it. Every single punch Azriel still gave him was worth it.

Their first time seemed so distant now as he pulled away from her, lifting her and carrying her to their marriage bed, kissing her throat, and whispered praise into her soft skin. He laid her gently down and sat on his knees between her legs.

Her dark hair was spread out in every direction, her pupils slightly dilated as she began to enter the part of her mind and behavior only he had the pleasure of seeing. Her lips were swollen, bringing out the soft blush they naturally had even more. He ran his thumb down them, smiling as she immediately opened her mouth and began to suck the digit, looking at him with her wide eyes.

"Such a beautiful little treat, aren't you, darling?" He pulled his thumb from her lips, "You're dripping already. Daddy wants to have his favorite dessert. Is that okay with his princess?" She whined, her back arching slightly off the bed. "Words, my darling. Daddy asked you a question."

She looked up at him, wide eyed. "Please Daddy. Need you. I'll be a good girl." Her submission had him ripping his own shirt off and removing his pants with speed he hardly knew he still had in him as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees to be closer to her dripping cunt.

"I wanted to take my time with you, worship you and this body of yours, but I fear I just do not have the patience for all of that today." He misted the now offensive lace from her body, leaving only the thigh highs and growled at the sight before him. "Such a pretty cunt, Rhiannon. Who does she belong to?"

Rhiannon was already breathing heavily. "You. I am yours."

He growled, throwing her legs over his shoulder. "Good girl." Without warning Rhys began his assault. Licking long stripes from her leaking hole the the apex of her thighs. He drank from her like a man receiving water after being trapped in a desert for too long. He was starving for her. Aching for her. He groaned as her hands found his hair and gently tugged to bring him closer to her clit.

He had missed this. He had missed waking her up with his head between her legs. He had missed the feeling of her tight entrance twitching on his tongue. He had missed the sweet taste of her. He pushed his tongue into her, nose nudging that sweet bundle of nerves, "Fuck daddy, yes!" Her back arched of the bed, and he instantly locked her down with his forearm, growling at her in warning.

Keep still like a good little toy, or I will leave you dripping and aching. He continued his feast, knowing fully well he couldn't, and wouldn't, do that to her. He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking lightly, and moaning as it earned him a harsher tug on his hair.

His free hand moved up, taking some of her wetness on one finger before slowly pushing it into her. She was tight. So tight. His pretty girl only had her own fingers to play with, and he realized he'd need to slowly stretch her back open all over again for him to slip inside of her like the little sleeve he had made her to be again.

He smirked at the thought of retraining her to be constantly wet and ready to take him at a moment's notice. He curled the one finger, chuckling against her as she swore and prayed to the Gods. Just Rhys or daddy is fine, darling. There are no Gods here to save you from me.

"Rhys!" She gasped loudly as he slowly put another finger inside of her, moving them in and out and curling them into the soft spongy spot that he knew made her see stars. "Fuck please don't stop." He doubled his efforts, moving his fingers faster, sucking and licking at her clit a little harder as she began to flutter around him. That tight coil in her stomach was winding itself up faster and faster with each well planned lick, suck, and curl.

Is my little princess going to cum? A loud whimper of his name came as her breathing picked up. Does my princess have permission to cum?

"Daddy please. I need it. I need to cum. Please." Rhys removed his mouth from her nerves, keeping himself within licking distance.

"Who makes you feel this good? Who is the only male who gets to make you feel like this, huh?" He went back to licking circles and figure 8s on her as his fingers began to move even faster.

The room was filled with her cries, her pleads, and the sound of her wetness. Rhys released his hold on her hips, only for tendrils of darkness to take his forearms place to begin the quick mission of stroking his cock. I asked you a fucking question, Rhiannon. Scream. Scream for all of Velaris who is making you feel this good.

And she did. Her walls locked and began squeezing his fingers as she screamed his name over and over. The tight coil in her stomach releasing and causing more wetness to flood her mate. He moaned against her core, refusing to slow down until he also found his peak. That refusal instantly sent Rhiannon back over the edge with little effort. One graze of his teeth gently against her clit had her crying out of him again, and then him roaring as he came seconds later.

His head fell into her thigh, peppering small kisses there as his hips rutted, and they rode out their bliss together. She tugged the bond, silently begging him to come hold her, and he obeyed. He laid on his back, pulling her into his side, and began playing with her hair. He placed a soft kiss on her lips before trapping her in a more heated one.

One month, he said to her mentally. In one more month, I'm fucking you on every surface of this house. She smiled against his chest, nodding.

"Is that a promise, my love?" She held her pinky to him, making him chuckle and smile as he enloped it into his larger one and pulled her into another deep kiss. A feeling of the familiar zip of a promise being made hit them both. New tattoos, three small stars, adorned their left ring fingers, right above their wedding rings.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

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𓆝 𓆟 Armin Week 2024 𓆝 𓆟

Day 3: Prompt Nerd Armin

Description: Nerd Armin x Shy Nerd Reader. You sit behind Armin in class and want to get to know him! Relationship to Armin as well as school (whether it's high school or uni) is left undefined, for all ages, stages and how you personally see Armin. Gender neutral as always.

I didn't have too much time to edit/write, so sorry if flow isn't great! I wanted something quick and cute lol

Pretty blue eyes hidden behind thick black glasses, and a terrible habit of raising his hand with a level of excitement that no one else seemed to have. Armin was the boy who sat in front of you during this class, staring at the back of his blond head more than the white board most days as you zoned out to the background noise of lecture. He always seemed to shrink as the teacher would ask for anyone else to answer the question presented, as if suddenly ashamed he was ten steps ahead of the rest of his peers. 

As he entered the classroom each day, the charms and pins on his back pack usually caught your eye, clinking of plastic turning your head in his direction. You admired the way he seemed to show off his interests without shame, everything he owned decked out with references to what sparked his personal joy. This was what helped you take notice of him in the first place, eyes immediately drawn to the wings of freedom sticker on his laptop he carried with him everywhere he went. You wondered if he was looking forward to seeing the finale in theaters soon to be released.

As a couple of weeks passed, summer gone as the leaves fell brown upon the ground, you found yourself collecting data on him subconsciously thanks to his decoration based transparency. A Star Wars notebook, anime keychains, ocean themed stickers, and assorted pencil toppers or themed pens which he’d occasionally chew on. He was a nerd right to his core, and suddenly your few items felt pale in comparison to his elaborately crafted image. Call Armin what you will, but you wanted to get to know him as someone with similar interests and no one to share them with. 

In this new semester, you were determined to initiate a conversation somehow, neither of you usually speaking to each other unless instructed to do so for chapter discussions. He already had close friends unlike you, rushing off after class to join together as part of a solid trio, making it hard to say anything as the hour and a half came to a close. He seemed reserved as someone content with his friend group already, while you seemed reserved as someone usually too nervous to speak. But today you’d do your best to reach out to Armin yet again, hoping something small could come of it. 

Before lecture, your hand stretched forward in an attempt to tap his back, stopping as he received a phone call from one of his friends about a movie tonight. You pulled away. As the teacher prattled on about an unrelated topic, you tried to make a joke regarding its lack of importance to what you were learning, but he just didn’t hear you. You stayed silent the rest of class. Instructed to share summaries on last night’s reading, he turned to look at the girl to his right instead of back at you. You almost audibly sighed. And once the clock reached its anticipated time, you stood up in another day’s defeat, spilling out the open contents of your pencil case sitting on your lap and not the desk. 

The noise was loud, plastic and wood clattering against the shiny flooring as items rolled underneath the many rows of black chairs. You felt embarrassed, but for once Armin seemed to not want to rush out of class. As you knelt to start collecting your belongings, you watched as he leveled with you on the ground to start doing the same. His hands gently passed you your Sanrio pens, and it was him who decided to speak first. 

“Your pens are cute…is Cinnamoroll your favorite? I’ve got a pin of him on my bag.” 

You smiled, noticing how he suddenly seemed a bit timid.

“Actually, Mocha is my favorite, but merchandise for her is impossible to find. I noticed your pin a while back and actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you I like your keychains and such.”

You let it all out, ignoring how heavy any of your excitement might come across to be.

“I like your R2D2 notebook too…and I saw your Starship Enterprise charm on your bag-”

He brought his hand up to his face, pushing his thick black glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he cut you off. There was a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, and you saw his shyness slowly melt away at the introduction of topics he was familiar with.

“So…you’ve seen the original Star Trek too?”