#creature that bites and dances for me

[homeofhousechickens]

Thing boy

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

young ladies shouldn’t waltz with vampires

a/n: happy halloween!!! here's the fic you guys voted on and shaped a few weeks ago

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

summary: “so, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…” 

warnings: vampire!bucky barnes x innocent!reader x vampire!steve rogers, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, historical au (1840s), mind control/vampire compulsion, blood, biting, age gap, ball, dancing, polyamory, threesome, first kiss, kissing, loss of virginity, somno, cockwarming, dirty talk, size kink, pain kink, pussyjob, overstimulation, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, unprotected sex

word count: 3511

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“I have to admit, out of every rose here, you’re the most breathtaking.” 

Glancing up from the table before you, cluttered with crystal glasses brimming with refreshments, your eyes flickered to the man now standing beside you, his own piercing blue stare firmly directed at you and no one else in the buzzing ballroom. 

Your stunned lips parted slightly before the gentleman boldly spoke up again, “how come I’ve never seen you before?” 

Feeling your breath hitch, you managed to babble, “oh, it’s probably because this is my first time at a proper ball. I haven’t really previously been allowed to come stay at my family’s London estate and–, I’m sorry…” you swiftly stopped yourself, sensing the heat that had ridden in your cheeks, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this…”

“Well, lucky us that you got let out of your cage and the rest of us finally get to gaze upon your beauty,” he flashed you a dazzling smile before his eyes flickered to someone behind you, “if you’ll excuse me, I see someone I recognise, but would you perhaps grant me the pleasure of a dance a little later?” 

Averting your gaze, a smile tugged at your lips as you uttered, “you’d have to ask my brother.” 

“But I’m asking you,” he dipped down to catch your vision, “would you care to dance with me?” 

Blinking back at him, you couldn’t help but let out the truth.

“Y-yes.” 

As a smile swiftly tilted his lips, the gentleman then bowed slightly before you as he plucked up your gloved hand and pressed his lips to the back of it before disappearing into the merry crowd. 

Feeling slightly dizzy, you finally snatched up the drink you’d originally wandered to this corner of the chamber to fetch. 

Though as you granted yourself a small sip, fingers suddenly grasped your arm and yanked you deeper into a corner. 

“Sister!” you blinked up into your brother’s eyes as he’d evidently spotted you from across the ballroom and, judging by his tone, not approved of what he’d seen, “what in the world do you think you’re doing?”

Ripping your arm free, you furrowed your brows, “what are you talking about? I was just getting some punch.”

“No,” he hissed at a hushed volume, “why were you talking to him?”

A confused scoff then bubbled out past your lips, “I’ve talked to plenty of men at this party, with and without you at my side, so why is he any different?”

“Because, sister,” he leaned down a bit further, “he’s not a man. He’s one of them,” his eyes scanned your own before he spelled it out, “a vampire.” 

Though you’d never previously encountered one yourself, you still weren’t so naive to not be aware of the known influential status such creatures of the night had in the society you lived in. Them being in attendance at a fine ball was nothing compared to the other privileges they had achieved over the centuries. 

“Really?” you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder, though didn’t spot the bloodsucker again. 

“God,” your brother groaned quietly, “I know mother and papa have kept you rather sheltered compared to myself, but trust me, you have to stay away from them. They’re monsters, killing is in their nature,” with a hand on your cheek, he guided your gaze back to his, “promise me you won’t speak to one ever again.”

Blinking back at him, you then uttered sincerely, “I promise.”

“Good,” a visible weight then faded from his shoulders as he let go of you and straightened back up to his full height. 

As you stayed on the outskirts of the party, one of your fingers curved to trace the lines of the fine glass still clutched in your grasp. 

Soon your eyes flickered up from the liquid remaining in the goblet and landed on the other guests. Elegant crinoline gowns swooshed and swayed to the music emanating from the small string quartet in the corner, acting as a heartbeat for the lords and ladies of London as they danced the night away. 

“Well, as I live and breathe,” a voice then found not only your brother’s ears, but yours as well. 

Twisting slightly, you watched as a wide grin swiftly stretched your brother’s lips, “Thomas!” he spread his arms out for the redheaded man nearly within his reach. 

As they pulled each other into a tight hug, your brother’s friend chimed in his ear, “how you doing, old chap?” before withdrawing from the embrace, though still kept one palm fast on your sibling’s shoulder. 

“Not bad, not bad–, oh, Tommy,” your brother then suddenly glanced back at you, “this is my little sister,” gesturing betwixt you both, “sister, this is Thomas, we went to boarding school together.”

Extending a hand, you smiled politely, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he shook your palm before casting his gaze back upon your chaperone, “would you mind if I stole your brother for a moment?”

“Uhm,” you glanced to your sibling before uttering, “no, of course not. Go, have fun, catch up.”

And before the pair slipped away, your brother leaned down to whisper in your ear, “be good till I get back,” to which you offered him a nod in return right before they both vanished from your sight and left you alone at the edge of the dance floor. 

Though as you slowly began to wander along the perimeter, your gaze once again affixed upon the sea of swaying pairs in the centre of the ballroom, your gentle stride then abruptly halted as a bulky figure shifted to pass you, though as the stranger attempted to, the two of you collided and the remainder of the drink in your hand splashed across his jacket.

You both froze as you slowly peeled your wide eyes up from the stain of your drink, that lightly dripped from his clothing, and instead flickered up to find the stare of the aristocrat you’d accidentally bumped into. 

“Oh god…” your heartbeat swiftly hammered in your ears, deafening out the elegant music that filled the chamber, “sir, I am so sorry, I-I wasn’t looking at where I was going and–”

“It’s alright,” he hastily put an end to your blubbering as he eyed the soaked patch, “it’ll dry,” he uttered, running a broad palm down over the wetness. Though as his gaze flickered back up to find yours, a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he then said, “well, spilling your drink on me, the least you can do is offer me your name so that I know who to warn about to the people who actually are precious about their attire.”

“Lady Y/n Y/l/n,” you averted your gaze as your knees bent in a gentle curtsy, “delighted to make your acquaintance, even under the circumstances–, again, I am so incredibly sorry…”

“You’re a lady but with such lack of grace? Well, now I understand why you aren’t on the floor dancing with someone,” he jested in a teasing tone. 

The heat that had already crept up in your cheeks fiercely worsened, “I am a great dancer, I’ll have you know!”

“Oh really?” a smile dazzled his features, “I think I’ll have to see that to believe it,” he spoke as the current song came to an end and he extended a hand out to you, “shall we?”

For a moment, you let your glance flicker about the chamber in search of your brother, though when you couldn’t spot him, you found your own palm thinking for itself and gliding into the man’s standing tall before you. 

Once he’d led you out onto the floor, the palm he slid across your waist, and used to guide you a smidge closer to his own frame, caused a shy gasp to slip past your lips long before your feet began to shift below your poofy plum coloured gown. 

“Well, I guess you weren’t lying after all,” you soon heard him note after you’d danced for a minute, your movements having been nothing short of perfection since the very first step. 

Blinking up at the blonde man holding onto you tight, you finally asked, “what is your name, sir?”

“Lord Steven Rogers,” the title rolled off his tongue as his own gaze kept yours captive, “at your service, my lady.”

“Are you from here? You don’t sound it,” you commented on his accent, “but are you?”

“That’s a good question,” a slight tilt found his head, “London is one of my favourite places and I have spent many of my years here, but it’s not where I’m from, no.”

“So, you’ve travelled a lot?” you asked as he spun you an arm’s length away from himself. 

“You could say that…” he smirked as he twirled you back into his hold, “are you?”

“Am I what?” you found yourself slightly dizzy, though not from the dancing. 

“From London?”

“Well, my family does have a place here, but I haven’t spent much of my time in the city. At least not yet, I’m hoping I can begin to now that I’m grown, though to be quite frank, I have no idea where to start.”

“I could be your guide,” his offer caught you off guard, “it might have been a few years since I last called this city my home, but I still know it like the back of my hand.”

Mouth shyly agape, you simply blinked back at him a second before uttering, “perhaps if my brother came along as a chaperone.”

“I thought you said you were grown,” the tone he used to deliver his teasing seeped directly into your bones and made you thankful of his firm grip on you as the pair of you continued to sway to the music, “a girl asks for permission and can’t be trusted on her own, but a woman however, takes exactly what she desires and doesn’t let anyone or anything stand in her way…” his smouldering stare then briefly dipped before you heard him murmur, “so, what are you? A little girl or a woman?”

“I–…” you blinked back at him, struggling to navigate the exhilaratingly foreign situation you found yourself in. However, before you could stammer any further, the song came to a close and the surrounding couples parted ways. 

Though before you could take even one step back, his hand kept you close a moment longer as he dipped down for his breath to tickle the shell of your ear. 

“Meet me in the garden,” he whispered, causing even more goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “then you can give me your answer...” 

The cool night air kissed your cheeks as your glance flickered away from the candlelit terrace you’d abandoned only moments prior in order to stand beside the bushy mouth of the dark hedge maze further down the expanse of the estate’s garden. Faint music still found your ears as it echoed out the open windows of the grand manor where the ball still boomed. 

Then suddenly, as you were lost in your thoughts of disbelief at what you were doing, just before you could talk yourself into returning to the party, you felt your hand be grabbed before your eyes fluttered up to find the lord you’d been awaiting, his arrival haven been so sudden that it nearly caused you to jump straight out of your skin. 

Without a single word, Steve began to drag you into the maze, far away from any prying eyes and where the darkness could swallow you both whole.

“Where are you taking me–,” you attempted to ask, though as the man then abruptly stopped, what he did next stunned you to your very core. 

Pulling you close, closer than you’d ever been to any man before, he then pressed his lips to your own, sufficiently shutting you up before you could elaborate your question any further. 

The kiss was abrupt, fevered and entirely your first, leaving you dazed and reeling to catch up to the reality, to the dream you were finally expecting.

When Steve finally felt you relax into him, his feet began to shuffle and shift you back till your spine was pressed up against the denseness of the hedge behind you. 

But just as a shy whimper from you vibrated against his tongue and your fingers drifted up to whisper around his silky necktie, the snapping of a twig suddenly found your ears and caused you to jump away from your dance partner. 

Casting your glance over Steve’s broad shoulder, you spotted as the dark-haired gentleman, that your brother had so fiercely warmed you about, slithered out from the embrace of the shadows. 

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” the man smirked, folding his arms across his wide chest as he continued to stare. 

Eyes wide, you then began to stammer, “Steve,” lightly patting your partner’s arm as he hadn’t yet shifted to protect you with an air of understanding, “h-he’s a–” 

“A vampire?” the aristocratic creature raised an eyebrow, “how about you take another look at the lord that just had his tongue down your throat.” 

Your panicked glare then fluttered back to Steve in front of you, however, before you could manage to push him away, his hands flew up to either side of your face and he dipped down to stare into your eyes with an intense you’d never witnessed before, somehow locking you up in his gaze as he then compelled you, “don’t scream,” and under the moonlight, you swore you saw his pupils briefly dilate as his wish slithered into your soul, “stay calm.” 

Continuing to cup your cheeks, Steve then kissed you once again. Even though his previous words had turned you completely docile in his hold, the sensation of his lips as they soon pecked away from your own, on a determined journey down over your jaw, caused you to melt away that much further.

The neckline of your deep purple gown was so wide that it exposed not only your shoulders, but also crept down scandalously low on your chest. 

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as his kisses tickled in their path down your neck, the sensation shooting straight down between your thighs. However, as soon as Steve’s lips were devouring the tender spot where the base of your throat blossomed into your shoulder, a sharp pain suddenly caused your eyes to snap back open as the vampire had sunk his teeth into you. 

You winced slightly as blood began to trickle free, your gaze locked with the other man’s as he took a step forward and closed the gap. Standing directly behind Steve, his hand then raised up to stroke your hair.

“So, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…” 

Though you’d barely gotten to sleep an hour, you began to stir as the vampire sprawled out in front of your slumbering form kissed down your neck and swiftly sank his fangs into your shoulder. 

Wincing awake and still weak from the blood the two lords had already drained you off, your hiss soon faded into a mumble, “Buck…”

Tilting his chin back a bit, Bucky lapped up the crimson that trickled down from the bite before he whispered, “shh, you can just stay asleep…” and you noticed his hardness straining against you below the covers, “it’s okay, I don’t mind…”

You couldn’t fathom how the vampire still wasn’t satiated after everything that had happened that night, things a lady such as yourself had never dared to even imagine possible. Even now, you were still slotted in between the two naked men under the canopy of a bed in the grand estate they’d taken you to, your virgin blood still staining the sheets, or the little of it that they hadn’t lapped up for themselves to savour. 

Though the restless one before you had stirred you for another taste, Steve was still sleeping like a rock. He was laying directly behind you, his burly chest still pressed up against your spine as earlier, when he’d impulsively tried to stretch out your ass, made the decision to do something about that impossible tightness and have that little hole warm his intimidating girth while he slumbered. It made it difficult, to say the least, for rest to come to you as the sensation of his fat cock plugging you up was nearly too much for you to bear. 

“Oh, what is it?” Bucky chuckled lowly at the wince you let out as he began to nudge his dick against your puffy pussy, “are you sore?” he asked in a mocking tone, grinning wider as you nodded hazily in response, “but you like it, don’t you?” he torturously tapped the weight of his length against the creamy mess between your thighs, the sensation causing both your holes to throb and clench, making Steve’s cock still embedded deep within you seem that much more enormous, “you like it when it hurts, when the sting of pain mixes with pleasure…” he then caught your eye and compelled you, “tell me that you like it.”

“I like it,” you hear the desperate word flow out your lungs, “please don’t stop, please keep hurting me, keep biting me, drink every drop of my blood, use me however you wish, it all feels so good–, ah!” the pleas he’d made you utter were then cut off by a rippling moan as his bulbous tip suddenly caught your entrance and greedily slid back into your warmth. 

The fierce rhythm Bucky swiftly found rocked you so roughly that the movements didn’t just split your poor pussy open as he bucked up into you, but it also caused your frame to shift back against Steve and sink you down that much further on his cock, letting his heavy sack nuzzle tightly against your slick skin. 

As your whimpers filled the room and mingled with Bucky’s own grunts of pleasure, you felt the girth in your ass twitch and rapidly grow painfully hard before the arm the slumbering bloodsucker had slumped around your waist tightened as he stirred with a low rumble directly in your ear. 

“Mmm… having a little midnight snack, are we?” Steve groggily hummed from behind you as he nuzzled his nose into your tousled hair, “you know she’ll pass out soon if we keep drinking like this.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bucky then slid his palm down the length of your arm, plucking up your hand till his lips ghosted against it. However, just as you let yourself hope that he’d just plant a peck upon your palm, his teeth instead pierced the flesh, right below your thumb. Although, the vampire did show some restraint as he only offered you a little nip before ripping your hand away from his mouth and holding it out for his partner to grasp, “here, you look parched,” blood already began to pool like a little puddle in your palm from how it slowly oozes out of the wound. 

Accepting the delicacy, Steve first dragged his silky tongue over the bite, before he let his fangs sink into you with a deep groan, the taste of you only making him harder. As he began to drink from your palm, his hips greedily began to rock, making you tremble between the two lords of the night from the dizzying manner they both now fucked you. 

As your moans filled the night air, Bucky’s fingers found your face in a caress before he leaned in to snuff out your sounds and let you taste the tangy iron of yourself on his tongue. Soon, his kisses began to dance down over the column of your neck, till his face was buried in your heaving tits, leaving a blossoming trail of hickeys to mark his path as he moved down to capture your nipple between his lips.  

“I know we usually only keep our dinner till the morning comes,” Bucky muttered as he nipped at your boobs, only pausing to briefly glance over your shoulder at the man behind you, “but there’s something different about this one, don’t you agree, Steve?” 

“She’s fucking delicious…” you heard him purr in your ear, “maybe you could be more than just a quick bite to eat…” both of their cocks continued to rock in harmony, filling your holes up to more than the brim, “maybe you can be our girl…” 

Sucking in a shaky breath, you tilted your head to catch both of their eyes, “for how long?” 

Keeping his neck tilted, Bucky blinked up at you and uttered, “…forever,” before he buried his teeth into the soft peak of your tit.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[ackl3z]

DEAN W.

pairing: dean winchester x reader

content: smut, porn without plot, teasing, fingering, head (f recieving), soft dom dean, no use of y/n, car sex, use of "good girl", hair pulling... like js a lil, established relationship, fem!reader, one shot, not proof read

word count: 1.1k

authors note: hi hi! this is literally the first smut ive ever wrote, so like please be nice i tried ok. constructive criticism is appreciated!!! enjoy 🩶

you were laying down in the back of the impala while dean and sam read over some old news articles about the next demon their dad had assigned them to hunt. it was late, you were exhausted from todays hunt, it took all night after all and you just wanted to get back to the motel and get to sleep. "you alright sweetheart?" dean asks, looking into the backseat where your eyes were fluttering shut, his brown leather jacket draped over your shoulders. your eyes snapped open when you heard dean's voice, nodding and mumbling an almost incoherent, "yeah, jus' tired..." dean smiles, chuckling softly at your sleepy murmurs. "sam, go and get us a coffee would ya'?" dean says, not really as a question, more as a statement, he knew that you would all be up for hours longer, and he could see that you needed energy to fight off yet another creature. sam sighs, always being the one sent to collect stuff for them, but still complies, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him, walking to the nearest store.

dean turns around again, his eyes giving your body a once over, then locking his eyes on your lips, which you immediately notice, giggling softly. "you're real tired, huh baby?" he teases, in which you just nod in response to. dean climbs over the center console, rolling on top of you in the backseat to pepper your face with kisses before pulling you into a passionate, yet gentle kiss. his calloused hands travel down your body, down your waist, and finally settling with one hand on your inner thigh and the other holding himself up above you, his chain dangling in your face. you reciprocate the passion of the kiss, hands snaking up to his neck to pull him in deeper as he kisses you hungrily, his tongue sliding against your lips, silently asking for permission to be let in. you part your soft lips, his tongue dancing with yours inside your mouth as he moans softly into your mouth.

dean's hand makes his way further up your thigh as he starts trailing hot, open-mouth kisses down your jawline. you run your fingers thru his hair, the other hand sliding up his shirt and running over his abs and chest. he makes his way further down your body, sucking and gently biting your neck to leave big, purple bruises all over it, god he loved marking you up like that. you tug at his shirt as he kisses your neck so perfectly, which makes your back arch and lets a soft moan escape your lips. dean helps you to remove his shirt, and then immediately going to take off your tank top, beginning his kisses on your cleavage. you subconsciously start grinding against his clothed cock, which was already rock solid from just your moans alone. he pulls away from your neck to stare deeply into your eyes, his spare hand wraps around your back to unclip your pink lacy bra. "god, you're so beautiful..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your perfect tits, sucking on your nipple and using his hand to massage the other before giving equal attention to it aswell.

his kisses and bites travel further down your stomach, one hand working on your tits and the other unzipping your jeans and throwing them to the floor of the impala. you let out a desperate moan as he gets closer and closer to where you need him most, your pussy practically aching for him to touch you. he looks up at you, smirking as he hears your moans, "you need me, huh?" he teases, prompting you to let out a needy whimper along with a breathless, "fuck, yeah, please dean..." dean complies immediately, taking off your matching panties painfully slowly, just to prompt more desperate little whines, he loved seeing, hearing how badly you wanted him.

he starts softly kissing your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to your clit with every kiss. "god dean pleasee..." you beg him, soaking for his fingers, his tongue, anything. he laughs breathily into your thighs before finally starting to place soft kisses onto your clit, making you throw your head back and moan softly, both of your hands in dean's hair, pushing his head further into your pussy. he finally licks a stripe down your clit and towards your soaking wet entrance. sliding his tongue inside you. "fuck, fuck keep going." and he did, he sucks on your clit hungrily, his tongue swirling perfectly around your pussy, making you hold his hair tightly for support.

dean eats you out like a starving man, his tongue working perfectly from sucking on your clit to sliding his tongue in and out of your opening, licking up and down your pussy to gather all your slick. he spits on your clit before diving back in, eating you out better than anyone ever has before. you grind your hips against his face and he grips them with his hands, encouraging the movements as he sucks you harder and harder until you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach. "dean, i'm gonna-" you moan until he cuts you off. "good girl, you're gonna cum all over my face." he coos, using one of his hands to slide two thick fingers inside of you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. you let out an incoherent string of moans, something along the lines of, "fuck, dean im gonna cum." you feel your orgasm approaching more and more every second as he continues pumping his fingers inside of you, leaving a ring of cum around the base of his fingers. "im gonna cum!" you scream one last time before you let it out all over his face and on his tongue. dean slows down, riding out your orgasm with gentle licks and slow fingering.

you breathe heavily as he pulls out, licking his fingers clean. dean crawls back up to your face, kissing your forehead softly and cradling your face in his hands. "you okay baby? you did so well for me, i love you so much." he whispers as he hands you the led zeppelin shirt that he had on before, putting it over your head just incase sam came back any moment now. and he did, your response was cut off by sam coming back with the coffee, not even wanting to look into the back seat. dean quickly gains his composure back, getting out of the backseat and back into the drivers seat. "what were you doing dean..?" he asks, almost as if he immediately regrets asking. dean scoffs, shutting the door behind him. "none of your buisness, sammy."

@sl4tforchris @fanofgunsnroses

[cherrybr4t]

ex for a reason — choi seungcheol (+18)

cheol feels a wave of possessiveness when he sees your ex-boyfriend!

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), sl*t, degradation (f rec), daddy cheol!, spanking, tit playing, jealousy! est. relationship, a little possessiveness haha, creampie, that’s all i think! ok enjoy <3

if seungcheol could pinpoint exactly why he, too, is a creature bound to the notion of possessiveness — he would. except, at this point of time, all he feels is rage.

not at you — no, no not at all. how could he ever be angry at his princess? the poor guy falling victim to his fiery glares would be your ex-boyfriend. said ex-boyfriend — mingyu, was definitely too buzzed to notice the hard daggers thrown at him.

you however, are quick to notice the switch in tension after mingyu came over to give you a hug, gushing over how it’s been forever since you’ve last met. you return the kind smile. after all you and him did end on cordial terms.

that ticks something off in seungcheol’s head. the way mingyu’s arms seemed too familiar — too comfortable snaking around you. all while he was standing there right beside you.

he shakes hands with mingyu, squeezing a little too tight until he notices the wince on that pretty boy’s face. head’s too busy thinking about the fact that he’s held you close under his covers before.

“baby, you all right?” you squeeze the hands that are tightly wrapped around your waist.

seungcheol hums, “yeah baby, just a little tired is all,” he reassures, leaving a peck on your temple. you narrow your eyes, knowing he’s withholding words from you.

“y’sure? we can leave early — anytime you wanna,” raising your brows at him, offering an exit.

“no baby, i’m fine. it’s your friend’s birthday after all, let’s stay a while more — enjoy this bottle of whiskey she has,” he lifts up the $3000 bottle off the table top, waving it slightly.

seungcheol self soothes. he thinks he’s got it all under control, it’s not like you’ve got residual feelings attached to mingyu — its been almost two years. but with the way mingyu keeps gazing over towards you, with that fucking smirk, seungcheol thinks he’s about to lose it.

the party is in full swing — party hits back to back, loud chatting over the speakers, with people dancing around. he sees mingyu start to make his way across the room towards the both of you.

without much thought, seungcheol pulls you in closer — if even possible, grabs your hand and leads you to a room. a guest room which you recognise due to the nights spent in your friend’s house.

“cheol, baby? what’s wrong?” you catch your breath, looking up at him and furrowing your eyebrows.

cheol tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. he looks at you tenderly, before deciding to come clean. it’s not the first time he’s informed you of how jealousy tends to cloud his mind.

“i…just couldn’t stand your ex being there. standing there looking at you, as if i’m not there right beside you — was fucking pissing me off,” he sighs out, leaning his forehead against yours, body to body.

you let out a small chuckle, “baby, you know how he is… plus the only man i’ve ever looked at the whole night — is standing right in front of me right now. he’s all i wanna look at.” you nibble on your bottom lip, hoping seungcheol catches every nuance of sincerity you’re projecting.

“yeah? i know baby.. sorry it’s just, i can’t help it. want him to back off. want him to know who you belong to now,” his voice barely above a whisper.

you gaze up, giving his plump lips a kiss. a simple peck which turned into sucking, biting and licking — which was the case all of the time because who could resist and pull away from those lips?

he kisses you back with even more urgency, even more passion and love — and you feel him take charge, grabbing your nape to pull you in closer. he wants to taste all of you, every inch and spot — he wants it all. wants the reassurance that you’re now his and only his to hold, to touch, to pleasure.

“you’re all mine aren’t you,” he growls out mid kiss, grabbing you by your chin, staring so deep into your eyes you feel the need seeping into you from his gaze alone.

“always have been, cheol.”

his heart settles at your voice. knows you’re his. but hearing it makes him feel a whole ‘nother level of complete. loves when you play to his possessive selfish desires.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself before sitting himself down on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to straddle above him.

he pushes and combs your hair to the back, hands rubbing up and down your body, hands claiming what’s his. he takes in your silhouette in front of him — sitting so prettily, just waiting to be devoured by him.

“you’re too beautiful baby, hate the thought of someone else getting to see you the way i do,” he removes the strap of your top, teasing slowly as he starts to pull your top above your stomach.

you raise your hands, letting him remove your top. he hisses, sucks in a sharp breath, noticing you went braless for the night.

“braless tonight baby? thank god it was warm out there. imagine if these,” he tugs on both nipples harshly, “were to stand if it were cold,” he releases them, rubbing over your hard nipples softly in circles with his thumb. “then that ex boyfriend of yours would’ve been able to see what’s mine, wouldn’t he.”

you whimper at the hard and soft sensation on your nipples, knowing he’s going gentle on you now.

“you’d like that baby? want him to see you like that?” he slaps across your tits, tainting the soft flesh with his print. you let out a whine, “n-no…don’t want him to,”

“yeah? it’s for my eyes only, right baby?” his hand inches towards your core, completely exposed under your mini skirt by the way you’re sitting.

he rubs his fingers over your panties, smirking at the wet patch he feels on your center.

“so wet baby, thinking about me or thinking about him?”

you frown and gasped at him indignantly, “you. baby — i don’t understa—” he slaps your cunt, soothing it immediately afterwards with a few gentle rubs across your core.

he knows it’s him, knows only he can get you so dippy — likes a confirmation of it anyways.

he pulls you in for another heated kiss while his fingers continue to stay busy toying with your clothed cunt. your warm cunt that he wants to drown in all the time.

“remove your panties and go on all fours for me baby,” he grabs your hips, lifting you off him. you silently think of ways to apologise to your friend before getting comfortable on the bed, just clad in your mini skirt.

seungcheol groans at the supple flesh of your ass spilling out of the short fabric. pulling you closer to the edge, he grips onto the flesh. fingers tense, possessiveness dripping down his fingertips. needs to feel you on every active nerve to remind himself that you’re solely his.

he dives in to give one long lick up your soaked cunt. you moan out his name, and he groans out how fucking wet you are.

“fuck baby, i think if i were to fuck you right now my cock would slide right in,” he settles for his fingers for now, feeling the way your walls immediately tighten around his finger.

“cheol…daddy, want more..” you push your hips back, wiggling your ass in his face. he slaps a harsh one down your cheeks, and you wince, whimpering slightly.

“greedy slut. think you deserve more? letting your ex boyfriend hug you like that,” he says that but inserts two fingers in this time. bottoming out to his knuckles, curling his fingers.

“d-don’t be angry daddy, you know i only want daddy… want you only…” you beg, breath hitching every time he hits the spot all the way inside.

“show me baby, tell daddy how much you want him.” he sees you look over your shoulders, eyes wide and sweat starting to form on the edge of your hairline.

the cocky look on his face has you tightening around his fingers. him fully clothed, fingers deep inside you while you lay so pliantly for him. you would do anything for this man. and so would he.

“please daddy, want you to make me cum. need your cock.” gripping onto the bedsheets tighter as you feel him sneakily insert a third finger.

“yeah baby? doesn’t seem like you want it that bad. i’ve heard you beg better.” he coos. he knows you could go louder — loud enough for him and the other guests to possibly hear. needs to set him straight.

you whine. god. frustration starting to boil and mix with the immense pleasure in your core. you know how cheol is. how he can get mean in bed.

“want—want you to fuck me daddy. please. need you so bad. please please cheol,” your voice breaks. you feel his other hand reach from behind to tug on your nipples, before reaching down to leave teasing touches to your puffy clit begging for attention.

he’s a master a multi-tasking. thinks when it comes to you, he’ll be a master at anything. anything that makes his princess feel good.

“fuck baby, making such a fucking mess. so desperate to cum aren’t you.” at this point, he’s more desperate than you to make you cum. he feels his cock growing so hard it hurts, and if he doesn’t cum inside you soon he’s going to lose it.

“fuck baby. show me why you’re my good girl yeah? cum on my fingers and i’ll think about letting you cum on my cock.” he rams his fingers so hard inside you, other hand rubbing tight and fast circles around your clit.

“cum for me baby, moan out my name nice and loud while you do yeah? let everyone know who’s making you feel good right now,”

with his urging, you snap and unravel, gushing out while cumming around his fingers. you scream out his name as you cum, hands turning white by how hard you’re holding on to the sheets.

“fuck daddy, so good… so good…” you puff out as you come down from your high. no time to register as you hear his pants drop to the floor.

“turn around baby, come sit on me.” you push yourself up, only to see him already leaning against the headboard, hand stroking his hard on. grunting. hints of pre-cum glistening in the dim room light. his gaze hard on you as he strokes himself.

you bite your lip, crawling slowly towards him before settling in front of him. he tilts his head, letting his pre-cum coat his length.

“think he heard you cumming all over my fingers?” cheol prompts. you flush, nod a little, think anyone within a few metre radius distance from the room would’ve heard you begging cheol to make you cum.

“wait til he hears how good my cock makes you feel baby,” he guides you towards him, letting you hover over his cock for a moment.

“you okay baby?” he whispers and gets a confirmation from you. “just want your cock in me,”

the tip presses against your entrance, and like what he predicted earlier, you sunk down his cock with ease, soaking wet cunt welcoming him eagerly. he groans, voice croaky. head so clouded by how snug and warm you feel.

“you feel so good princess, you feel fucking perfect around me,” he husks. his eyes unable to tear away from you — the way your mouth opens, gasps leaving you as you take him in all the way. the way your brows furrow with sweat down the middle. the blush spread on your cheeks and the moan you let out as you feel him completely.

he holds on to your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. switching between bouncing you and letting you grind on him.

“so fucking pretty, you always take me so well,” his brows stay furrowed, unable to fully process how fucking good you feel around him. feels like he could cum any moment.

“cheol.. daddy..so good daddy,” you moan out, you see and feel nothing but him and him only at this moment. and you want him to know how good he makes you feel.

“yeah baby? daddy’s cock making you feel good?” he raises his eyebrows, head hitting the back of the bed so hard yet he can’t feel the impact of it. so lost in the moment — wants you to cum around him, wants to cum inside of you.

“so so so good daddy,” you cry out, hands playing with your tits, giving him a little show as he continues to work your hips on him. his strong hands doing most of the work for you, while you focus on the feeling of his tip hitting and grinding against your gummy spot. the way he keeps creating waves of butterflies in your lower stomach.

“that’s it, let him hear how good i make you feel baby,”

“show him how you’re my needy little slut, bet he’s never gotten you like this,”

“no one can make you feel like i do right baby, no one compares to daddy right?” cheol utters out, cursing out every time he feels your walls tighten around him.

“n-no one daddy. only you can make me feel this way,” you cry out. “only you daddy, only you,” and it’s true. cheol works around your body like no other, like magic. knowing every spot of your body and how to take you there — faster than anyone ever.

his fingers make their way to your clit once again, and you jerk forward the moment he starts to rub messily on your slippery bud again.

“that’s it baby. only daddy can ever make you feel this way,” he snaps his hips up faster, feeling his incoming orgasm the more he hears you cry out.

“you’re doing so good baby, taking me so well. you belong on daddy’s cock don’t you,” he moans out. holding back on his thrusts, focusing on your clit to make you cum again. knows he won’t be able to hold back any longer if he continues fucking up into you.

“cum for daddy again? wanna see you cum around daddy’s cock. i know you can baby,” his pace quickens and he groans — knowing how it goes, knowing when you’re about to cum. needs to hear you fall apart on his cock.

“almost there baby, cum for daddy — that’s it that’s it… feels so fucking good doesn’t it baby, look at you.” his words alone bring you to a new high, cumming so hard around his cock, screaming his name so loud you think the upstairs neighbour knows who cheol is.

“fuck baby. gonna cum. gonna cum so fucking hard inside of you baby.” his hands find their way back on your hips, gripping onto dear life as he snaps his hips up into your dripping cunt.

“ah fuck, fuck i’m cumming baby, daddy’s gonna cum inside of you,” and you clench around him, watching the final string break as he whines out, and you feel his hot cum shooting inside you, painting your walls.

thick hot cum continues to spurt inside of you as he slowly fucks it in you, pushing his cum deep inside every crevice of your cunt. his moans come in sections, breaking more and more.

he lifts you up slowly before you decide to lay beside him, feeling beat. he extends an arm for you to lay on as a pillow and you smile, facing him as you use his arm comfortably.

“you were so good princess, did so well for me. as always,” cheol caresses your cheek softly.

“sorry baby, i shouldn’t have let mingyu hug me all over like that… i would’ve been upset if i were you too,” quietly, you place a kiss on his jawline. hoping he isn’t too affected by mingyu anymore.

“no baby, i’m not mad at you. just hate it when guys look at you that way…especially if it’s an ex-boyfriend.” he rubs his nose with yours.

“i know baby…let’s get out of here? i’ll find another day to bring minji out for a birthday dinner..”

giggling, cheol agrees — but not til you guys catch your breaths for a few minutes.

perm taglist 🖤: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127 @mrsjohnnysuh

a/n: hi luvs! sorry, i’ve been a lil caught up w life and etc so :(( missed being here n writing so here i am! managed to find some time to write a lil smth <3 hope u guys liked it, if u did — like, rb or comment ⭐️ love you, muahh 🍒

[omniuravity]

Helluverse During Rut/Mating Season Headcanons

Tags: @bloodypeachblog , @hazelfoureyes , @pinkhimecat , @je-suis-eternel-jennie, @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered

TW: Sex (obviously), animalistic behavior, way too much research, creature cocks (kind of), mention of pregnancy

Thank you guys for the overwhelming positivity from the last one! Here's another one!

Angel Dust:

Angel doesn't really talk about mating season much, unless it's for his films. Val, of course, finds it sexy and makes Angel work anyway.

Like most male spiders, Angel tends to mate with multiple partners during mating season unless he's in a relationship.

Angel loves dancing with you during this time of year. He finds it brings himself closer to you.

Angel tries to make sure you don't feel pressured to have sex with him during his mating season. He wants you to feel comfortable and loved.

Angel is pretty submissive in bed despite him being the one wanting to mate with you, though expect him to want it a bit more rough.

"Come on, baby. I'll be gentle at first, then we can get to the kinky stuff~"

Adam:

An angel's rut or heat isn't nearly as intense as a demon's, unless you're as sexual as Adam.

Adam is normally very possessive, but he gets extra possessive of you when it's mating season. Another man can't even look at you without him blowing up.

Adam likes to help make a little nest for the two of you. Adam also likes to bring you shiny things for the nest.

Adam likes to play his guitar for you as a way to remind you how much he loves you.

Adam is normally pretty rough in bed, while he's rutting it's so much harder and deeper.

"Chill out, I'm gonna take really good care of you, babe~"

Blitzø:

Blitzø's heat is pretty intense. If he somehow has a partner you are not leaving his apartment.

He tries to cook for you, but unfortunately isn't very good. He always insists on cooking for you since he does most of the work in bed (or so he says).

Surprisingly, enough he does enjoy those gentle moments after sex with you. He'll never admit it though.

Speaking of gentle moments, he loves to cuddle. He will cuddle you like a teddy bear. If he starts to cry gently rub his back and hold him.

Blitzø is a VERY kinky motherfucker. He's open to trying every kink once. Any kink you can think of, he's tried it. Yep, even that one.

"Get down, it's time for some quality time with daddy~"

Stolas:

Stolas' rut is very different than most Goetias. He doesn't get as violent as other bird-like demons, but he's still very defensive of his partner.

He brings you all the shiny things for the nest you two share. He also doesn't mind being presented with shiny things.

Speaking of the nest, it consists of blankets, the shiny things, and his feathers.

He also enjoys cooking for you. He is much better than Blitzø, of course.

He's going to bottom. There is no question about it. He's also really loud when the two of you have sex

"I want to take this slow for you. I love you and want you to feel as loved as I do."

Verosika:

Verosika's heat is very intense due to her being a succubus. Though she doesn't let that change her demeanor in the bedroom.

She does have to stop performing for the public while she deals with her heat.

Even though she doesn't perform in public during her heat, she does sing for you.

She loves leaving marks on your body. Scratch marks, kisses, and bite marks will litter your body for days.

Verosika always tops, period. She takes good care of her submissives, though.

"You're so pretty, well not as pretty as me, but I'm still gonna take care of you, baby~"

[jose996c]

Unspoken

Parings: dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: In the sweltering heat of an Austin summer, Joel Miller finds himself caught between loyalty and forbidden desire. As his best friend's daughter returns home, no longer the little girl he once knew, the lines between past and present, right and wrong, begin to blur. Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, and every unspoken word threaten to unravel the careful distance he's tried to maintain. But some fires, once sparked, are impossible to put out.

Warnings: no outbreak au, smut (18+, MDNI), age gap, unprotected piv (wrap it before you tap it), secret relationship

edit: I want to thank everyone that has liked and/or reposted this fic, it means a lot to me - and i'm planning to write more i just need ideas <3

a/n: Hi, this is my first fanfic - please leave a comment if i need to do anything different <3 or if you have an idea for my next fanfic (i'll write for any Pedro Pascal character

In the heart of a sweltering Austin summer, Joel Miller sat on his porch, nursing a cold beer as the sun dipped low. The sound of laughter and distant music drifted from the neighbourhood barbecue, but he remained in his solitary retreat, lost in thought. At 46, Joel had seen enough of the world to appreciate the quiet moments. His eyes followed the lazy flight of a dragonfly, the only creature brave enough to dance in the heavy air.

He heard the familiar crunch of gravel as a car pulled into the driveway next door. Your dad's old pickup, he thought with a hint of a smile. You stepped out, a vision of youth and energy in the fading light. The sight of you never failed to stir something within him, a feeling he had been trying to ignore for years. But as you grew older, the lines between friendship and desire blurred more each day.

You were 24 now, and the little girl who used to follow him and your dad around the yard with wide eyes had transformed into a woman. Your laughter had deepened, your gaze had grown more knowing, and the way you moved... it was as if the very air around you hummed with a secret life Joel wasn't privy to. He took a long pull from his beer, the coolness barely touching the heat building in his chest. It was wrong, he knew, to think of you like this, but he couldn't help it.

Your relationship had evolved from childhood playdates with Sarah to stolen glances and awkward silences. Your dad, oblivious to the tension thickening the air between you and Joel, had invited him over for their weekly catch-up. The TV in the living room buzzed with the latest baseball game as the two men talked over it, their voices a comforting background to the rhythm of the house.

You emerged from the kitchen, a plate of freshly baked cookies in your hand, your eyes immediately finding Joel's. His gaze was like a warm caress, making your cheeks flush as you offered the snack. He took one, his rough, calloused hand brushing against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. The electricity between you was palpable, a silent symphony playing only for the two of you.

As your dad disappeared into the garage, the TV's volume seemed to drop, the world outside the living room fading away. Joel leaned in, his breath a whisper of temptation. "You know, I've always liked these cookies," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Your dad makes a good BBQ, but your mom's cookies are something else."

Joel took a bite of the cookie, watching you with a look that seemed to say so much more than his words ever could. He chewed slowly, savouring it, and then spoke, his voice low and earnest. "But what I like even more than your mom's cookies; is the company they bring." His eyes searched yours for a reaction, a hint of what you might be feeling.

You felt your heart stutter in your chest, your breath hitching slightly. "What do you mean, Joel?" you asked, playing it cool despite the heat rising in your cheeks. You knew what he meant, but you needed to hear it from him, needed the validation that the feelings weren't one-sided.

Before Joel could answer, the sound of your dad's heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, and he re-entered the living room, wiping his greasy hands on an old towel. "You two okay in here?" he called out, breaking the tension. Joel's eyes darted towards your father, and you took a step back, the moment lost to the intrusion of reality.

You mumbled something about needing to get ready for bed, your voice barely above a whisper, and practically sprinted upstairs, the plate of cookies forgotten on the coffee table. Joel's gaze followed you, a mix of longing and regret etched into the lines of his face. When your dad looked at him questioningly, he shrugged, playing it off with a forced chuckle. "Guess she had a long day," he said, his tone casual, as if the air between you hadn't just crackled with unspoken desire.

As the night rolled on, the conversation flowed, but Joel's eyes kept drifting to the empty spot where you'd been standing. Every laugh, every gesture, played on repeat in his mind, taunting him with what could have been. He took a deep breath, pushing down the emotions that threatened to bubble over.

When the final inning of the baseball game ended and the TV screen flickered to darkness, your dad leaned over and nudged Joel with his elbow. "Remember, the Johnsons are throwing a barbeque next Saturday. Starts at two, should be a good time." Joel nodded absently, his mind racing with thoughts of you, of the way your eyes had searched his.

The following week, the air was thick with the smell of grilled meat and the sweetness of blooming magnolias as the barbeque at the Johnsons' kicked into gear. Joel found himself by the grill with your dad and a few of his old friends, the sizzle of burgers and the crackle of the fire punctuating their easy banter. Despite the casual chatter, Joel's eyes kept drifting towards you, your laughter a siren's call amidst the clink of ice in plastic cups and the hum of conversation.

You looked stunning in a sundress that hugged your curves just right, your hair cascading down your back like a dark waterfall. The sight of you, surrounded by friends and neighbours, made his chest tighten. He told himself he was just being protective, that it was his duty as your dad's best friend to watch out for you. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. The way your eyes caught the light, the curve of your smile, it all whispered of secrets he wasn't meant to know.

As the afternoon grew into evening, the shadows grew longer, and the conversations grew quieter. Joel noticed you slipping away from the group, heading towards the house to grab a fresh drink. The kitchen was your fortress, a place where you could hide from the prying eyes of small-town gossip. He took the opportunity to follow you, under the guise of needing a beer from the fridge.

In the cool embrace of the kitchen, the air was thick with the scent of BBQ sauce and the faint hint of your perfume. Joel leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving you as you filled a plastic cup with ice. He took a deep breath, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders.

"You know, you've always been like a daughter to me," he began, his voice thick with unspoken emotions. "But lately, I've been noticing things... things I probably shouldn't."

Your heart thudded in your chest as you met his gaze, the words you'd longed to hear finally spilling from his lips. The kitchen was a cocoon around you, the outside world forgotten in the face of this moment. "What kind of things?" you asked, your voice a soft whisper that seemed to hang in the air.

Joel took a step closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection. "The way you look at me," he said, his voice raw with vulnerability. "The way you smile, the sound of your laughter... it's like you're the only thing that makes any sense in this world."

You felt your heart swell; the words you've been longing to hear spilling from Joel's lips. "Joel, I-"

He cut you off gently, placing a finger to your lips. "Shh," he said, his eyes searching yours for permission. Without a word, you nodded, the tension in the room snapping like a tightly pulled rubber band. And then, with a soft groan, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, as if he was afraid, you'd vanish in a puff of smoke. But as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, he deepened it, his hand cupping your cheek. The kitchen spun around you, the only reality the taste of BBQ sauce and beer on his lips and the feel of his hands on your body.

For a moment, the world outside the kitchen didn't exist. There were no neighbours, no friends, no awkward silences or hidden glances. Just Joel and you, lost in a kiss that felt like it had been a lifetime in the making. His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone, sending shivers down your spine. It was everything you'd ever imagined and more, a secret promise whispered in the heat of the moment.

But reality had a way of crashing in, and when you finally pulled away, breathless, Joel's expression was a storm of emotions. Guilt washed over him, the weight of his actions heavy on his shoulders. He took a step back, his hand dropping to his side, the warmth of your embrace replaced by a coldness that chilled you to the bone. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I shouldn't have done that."

You searched his face, trying to understand the conflict in his eyes. "Why not?" you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. But he shrugged you off gently, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Because of your dad," he said, his voice hoarse. "Because of Sarah."

For a week, you both danced around the elephant in the room. Joel's absence at your dad's weekly gatherings was palpable, his laughter a ghostly echo that haunted the quiet nights. Each day, the ache grew, the memory of his touch like a phantom caress that taunted you in your dreams. You knew you had to confront him, to lay your feelings bare and risk everything for the chance to be with him.

The evening air was sticky with the scent of rain as you approached Joel's house, a borrowed wrench in your hand serving as your excuse. When he opened the door, his eyes searched yours for understanding, for a reason to resist the pull between you. But the words that followed only served to stoke the fire in your belly.

"We can't do this," Joel said, his voice a tightrope stretched to its breaking point. But his eyes gave him away, the flicker of want in their depths.

You stepped closer, the scent of his aftershave and the faint hint of engine oil clinging to him, a heady combination that made your heart race. "Do what?" you challenged, your voice a soft echo in the quiet evening. "Talk? Be in the same room?"

His eyes searched yours, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in their depths. "You know what I mean," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Your dad trusts me. I've been a part of your life for so long—"

Since I was a kid, you cut in, your voice sharper than you intended. "I'm not a kid anymore, Joel

."

He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his face tightening like a coiled spring. "That's the problem," he murmured.

With a sigh that was more of a battle cry, you turned on your heel and marched out, the screen door slamming shut behind you. The sound echoed in the stillness of the night, a stark reminder of the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Joel watched you go, the light from the porch casting long shadows across the yard.

A few days later, the neighbourhood buzzed with the excitement of a potluck dinner party. The air was alive with the sound of children playing and the aroma of a dozen different dishes wafting through the air. You found yourself at the center of a group of your peers, an old friend from college recounting a wild spring break story. Laughter bubbled up from your chest, pure and uninhibited, and you felt a sudden warmth in your cheeks.

Across the yard, Joel sat in a plastic chair, his eyes on you, his grip on his beer bottle so tight that condensation trickled down his knuckles. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening with every giggle that left your lips. He told himself it was nothing, that you had every right to enjoy the company of others, that he was just being an overprotective fool.

The sound of your laughter grew louder, and Joel couldn't ignore the sting of jealousy that pierced his chest. He'd known this day would come, but watching you flirt and smile with ease was more than he could bear. He stood up, the legs of his chair scraping against the concrete, and made his way to the cooler, his eyes never leaving you.

As he approached, he heard the tail end of your friend's joke, the punchline lost on him as he focused on the way your cheeks dimpled, and your eyes sparkled with mirth. Joel's hand tightened around the neck of his beer bottle, the plastic crackling under his grip. "Didn't know you liked frat boys," he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You turned to him, the laughter dying on your lips as you searched his face for a clue to the meaning behind his words. "Excuse me?"

The guy who'd been telling the joke looked confused, but you didn't care. All that mattered was Joel, his eyes dark and unreadable, his body a live wire of tension.

"What's your problem?" you whispered, leaning in so that only he could hear.

Joel's eyes searched yours, the intensity of his gaze making you feel like the only person in the world. For a moment, the rest of the party faded into the background, the laughter and music a distant hum as the air between you crackled with tension. His expression flickered between frustration, desire, and something deeper—something he was too afraid to name.

But then your dad's booming laugh cut through the air, pulling you both back to reality. Joel took a step back, shaking his head. "Forget it," he murmured, his voice thick with regret.

But you don't.

For the rest of the barbecue, Joel avoids you. He doesn’t look your way, doesn’t seek you out, but you can feel his presence like a weight in the air. He’s tense, distracted, not laughing as easily at your dad’s jokes.

And you? You should be enjoying the party, but all you can think about is the way his voice had sounded—low and rough with something dangerously close to jealousy.

Later, when most of the guests have left and the night is winding down, you find Joel sitting on the back porch, a fresh beer in hand. You hesitate for a moment before stepping outside, closing the door behind you.

"You were jealous," you say softly, standing just behind him.

Joel doesn’t turn around, but you see his shoulders stiffen.

"Go inside," he mutters.

"No." You move closer. "You were jealous, Joel. Why?"

He exhales, shaking his head. "It doesn’t matter."

"It matters to me."

Finally, he looks at you. The porch light casts shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw, the conflict in his eyes. "You want the truth?" he asks, voice quieter now.

You nod.

He swallows hard, as if bracing himself for the weight of the confession. Then he leans in just slightly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Because I hate seeing you with him."

The air between your crackles, thick and heavy. Your heart slams against your ribs.

Before you can respond, the sound of the sliding door opening behind you breaks the moment. Your dad’s voice cuts through the tension. "There y’all are! Thought you both disappeared."

Joel is on his feet in an instant, stepping away from you like he’s been caught doing something wrong. He clears his throat, taking a long pull from his beer before flashing your dad an easy, practiced grin.

"Just needed a minute," he says smoothly.

But as your dad launches into a story about the barbecue, Joel doesn’t look at you again.

And you know—this isn’t over. Not even close.

The days after the barbecue were unbearable. Joel had always been a constant in your life, his presence woven into your world like a familiar melody. But now? Now, he was avoiding you. No more casual visits, no more lingering looks. He hadn’t been over to your dad’s house all week, and the absence felt like a void you couldn’t ignore.

You tried to brush it off, but the gnawing feeling in your gut wouldn’t let up. You knew why he was pulling away. You could still hear his voice in your head, raw and full of something dangerously close to regret: Because I hate seeing you with him.

Tonight, you decide you can’t take it anymore. You need answers.

When you knock on his door, there’s a long pause before he finally opens it. Joel stands there in the dim glow of his porch light, his face unreadable, his jaw tight. He doesn’t invite you in.

"Shouldn’t be here," he mutters, eyes flicking past you like he’s making sure no one sees.

You swallow hard. "Then tell me to leave."

Joel exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks exhausted. Torn. "Damn it, kid…"

Your stomach twists. "Don’t call me that."

His eyes snap to yours, something dark and conflicted brewing in them. "You think I don’t want this?" His voice is low, hoarse. "You think I don’t—" He stops himself, shaking his head like he’s trying to will the thought away. "This ain't right."

"Then why does it feel like it is?" You step closer, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Why did you say what you said? Why did you kiss me if you were just gonna run?"

Joel clenches his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Because I’m tryin’ to do the right thing."

You let out a bitter laugh. "And avoiding me is the right thing? Pretending like nothing happened? Like you don’t—"

"Like I don’t want you?" he cuts in, his voice rough, edged with something desperate. His control is slipping, you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls, the way his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for you. "You think I don’t lie awake at night regrettin’ every goddamn second of that kiss? Because I do. I regret it because I shouldn't want you. And I regret it because I do."

The confession steals the breath from your lungs. The world narrows to just the two of you, standing on the edge of something irreversible.

"Then stop fighting it," you whisper.

For a long moment, Joel just looks at you, torn between every instinct telling him to walk away and the pull that keeps dragging him back to you. And then, like a breaking tide, the moment crashes over him.

With a growl of pure need, Joel pulls you into his arms. The kiss is explosive, desperate. It’s as if he’s been holding his breath for a week, and you’re the air he’s been gasping for. His hands roam your body, his touch burning through the fabric of your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

You cling to him, your own hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper. The kiss turns into an all-consuming fire, devouring every inch of doubt, leaving only raw, unbridled passion in its path.

You stumble back into the house, the door slamming shut behind you. Joel’s hands are everywhere—on your waist, your hips, your thighs—as he lifts you onto the kitchen counter. The coolness of the tile against your skin does nothing to quench the heat burning through you.

Your legs wrap around his hips, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. You gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pulls your shirt over your head, exposing your lacy bra to the cool air.

The intensity of his gaze as he looks at you—like he’s seeing you for the first time—makes your knees wobble. "You’re so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice a hoarse rasp.

The words are a balm to your soul, soothing the ache that’s been festering since that night in the kitchen.

Joel’s hands trace the edges of your bra, his thumbs brushing the swells of your breasts until you’re aching for more. And then, with a gentle touch that belies the fierce need in his eyes, he unhooks it, letting it fall away.

Your breath hitches as his mouth finds your nipple, his tongue teasing it into a peak. Your back arches, your hips pressing against him as his hands glide up your bare back.

The world outside fades away, replaced by the sound of your ragged breaths, the rustle of fabric, and the unmistakable thud of your heart beating in time with his.

You’re lost in a whirlwind of sensation—his mouth on your skin, his hands in your hair, the feel of his chest pressed against yours. And in that moment, you realize that maybe this isn’t just a fleeting crush. Maybe it’s something more, something that’s been simmering just below the surface for years.

And as Joel whispers your name against your skin, his eyes locked on yours, you know you’re about to find out just how much more it can be.

The tension snaps as Joel lifts you off the counter, his strong arms cradling you effortlessly as he carries you through the darkened house. The air is thick with anticipation, the unspoken words between you louder than any confession could ever be. Your heart pounds against your ribs as the soft glow of the streetlight filters in through the curtains, casting warm, golden streaks over his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his gaze.

He lays you on the bed, his hands firm but reverent as they sweep over your body. His eyes never leave yours as he undoes the button of your jeans, fingers deft yet unhurried, as if savouring each second. The zipper whispers open, the sound nearly drowned out by your own shaky breath. He peels the fabric away, revealing your matching lace panties, his gaze darkening with something primal, something possessive.

A shiver runs through you as his fingers trace the delicate line of lace, his touch featherlight yet electrifying. Your body arches instinctively, every nerve alive, every inch of you attuned to him. His thumb lingers over your hipbone before trailing lower, teasing but not giving in. The corner of his mouth quirks up at your barely restrained whimper, his control evident in the slow, deliberate way he moves.

Joel leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the waistband, his breath hot against your skin. His stubble rasps against your stomach, the sensation both rough and intoxicating. Your hands find their way into his hair, threading through the dark strands, tugging lightly in silent plea. He groans against your skin, the sound sending a thrill down your spine. Your hips lift of their own accord, a wordless request, and this time, he gives in.

The fabric slides down your legs, cool air kissing the bare skin he’s just revealed. His hands follow the path of the lace, his palms rough against your softness, branding you in a way that has nothing to do with touch and everything to do with the way he looks at you—like he’s waited a lifetime for this.

The air is charged, thick with unspoken promises and a hunger neither of you can suppress any longer. He kisses his way back up your body, slow and deliberate, as if mapping every curve, every hollow, every inch of you that belongs to him now. His lips hover over yours, his breath mingling with yours, teasing you with the anticipation of a kiss he refuses to give just yet.

You reach for him, hands trembling with need as you pull him closer. Your leg’s part, inviting him in, and Joel doesn’t waste a second. He settles between your thighs, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours. His fingers trail down, teasing, exploring, before his mouth replaces them.

The first flick of his tongue sends a jolt through you, your body arching off the bed. His hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as he works you open, his mouth a weapon of pleasure against your most sensitive spot. Your fingers tighten in his hair, a broken moan escaping your lips as he groans against you, the vibration sending another wave of heat through your core.

The world around you blur as the pleasure builds, coils tightening deep within. His name falls from your lips in breathless gasps, your body trembling beneath him as he pushes you closer to the edge. His hands roam, gripping, teasing, claiming, until you shatter, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your chest heaves, the aftershocks still rippling through you when he rises, his lips glistening, his eyes burning with something deeper than just desire. He kisses you then, slow and deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, branding the moment into your soul.

And then he’s there, pressing into you, stretching, filling, until you are one, until there is no space left between you. A gasp catches in your throat, the sensation overwhelming yet perfect. He stills, giving you a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both breathe each other in.

The first thrust is slow, reverent, as if he’s savouring the feeling of finally having you. Then another. And another. Each movement sends you higher, the pleasure mounting again, your bodies falling into a rhythm as old as time itself. A rhythm that speaks of longing, of passion, of love that’s been denied for too long.

Your name is a broken whisper on his lips as his pace quickens, his control slipping. You cling to him, nails digging into his back as you chase the inevitable. And when you fall, when the pleasure crashes over you again, you take him with you, his own release tearing through him as he buries himself deep inside you.

Silence settles in the aftermath, the only sound the mingling of your breath, the pounding of his heart against your cheek. Joel pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he can shield you from the world, from the consequences waiting on the other side of dawn.

But reality is a cruel thing.

The cold grip of it slithers in, twisting around your heart, suffocating the warmth of what you just shared.

What have we done?

The unspoken question lingers between you, hanging in the air like smoke from a fire that burned too hot, too fast.

This can’t be a one-time thing. The thought is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen, but you also don’t know how to move forward.

How do you tell your dad? How do you explain the way you feel about Joel without shattering everything?

The silence stretches, thick with fear, with desire, with something too big to name. But for now, all you can do is lay there, wrapped in Joel’s arms, and hope.

Because you know one thing for sure: you can’t go back.

The line has been crossed, and there is no undoing it.

[emmyrosee]

Can I request a little thing with Sukuna where they’re having a soft moment on his bed or something and he pulls reader in for a hug before places slow kisses onto her neck?

The newscaster on the tv is long forgotten as Sukuna’s attentions are directed to you and you alone, their voice dull and droning as he takes his time focusing on you.

Next to him, on your back with your head turned to the side away from him as you giggle at something on your feed, you’re completely unbothered by the feeling of his eyes on you. He bites his lip at the sight of your shaking shoulders before extending a long arm to wrap around you, snaking across your shoulders and squeezing you tight, relishing in the small, surprised squeal you let out, “what’re you watching that you can’t show your perfect, funny, handsome boyfriend?”

“Look,” you mewl, and he pulls you into his side. You turn your phone to him, presenting him with a video of a dog waking up with its owner in an (allegedly) funny way.

Well, it was. But he’d never tell you that.

“It’s cute right?” You mewl, and he takes the phone from your hands and puts it on the pillow behind you.

“I’m cuter,” he murmurs.

“You are,” you assure, flipping onto your side to face him. He smirks as you do, your faces only a few inches apart. You nudge his legs to become tangled with yours, and he allows it with a small hum. “There’s no way you’re jealous of a dog on TikTok though, right?”

“So what if I am?” Sukuna asks, and you giggle. “I can’t make exceptions for you ogling at every cute creature you see- where’s the line?”

“You’re my favorite cute thing,” you hum, and he gags. “What! You can say it but I can’t?”

“Exactly.” The hand on your body wanders, over your side and arm, using his knuckles to delicately touch you. He slips his other arm under your pillow to finally close the distance between you both, the arm you’re now laying on caressing the back of your head while his free arm moves over the space of your back. You burrow into his chest, your own fingers gently playing with the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck. He huffs and buries his head deeper into you, and you gasp as his lips find their way to your neck, peppering down your jawline before taking home in your neck.

“Sukuna-“

“Mhmm? You’re interrupting me.”

You snicker, “jus’ not used to you being so affectionate.” You shiver as his tongue licks over your flaring pulse point before going back and pressing wet kisses to your sensitive neck. “Tickles.”

“Good,” he murmurs, biting softly to make you writhe, only to soothe that with a kiss. “Submit to me and maybe I’ll stop.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?”

He snickers softly. The hand on your back rubs soothing circles and the one caressing your head massages the nape of your neck, and you feel your eyes growing heavier at the orchestra of sensations that work together to relax you.

“No marks,” you warn him, voice a slight slur from being so soothed. He grunts in agreement, but he does suck ever so slightly behind your ear, and you tug his hair. He hisses and glares at you. “No. Marks.”

“Alright, fuck, no marks,” he grumbles. “Didn’t know I was in the presence of the fuckin’ fun police.”

“I’m always fun.”

And even though a protesting tease dances on his lips, Sukuna says nothing, merely leaning down to press and lave his tongue at the base of your neck by your collarbone. You mewl, and he chuckles and sucks there, and you know you’ll have to cover those bruises with a higher-collared shirt.

You don’t have it in you to scold it again. Not when you’re melting like chocolate in his hand.

[magix-winx-club]

Fun Little Nicknames

Daryl x reader

Summary: Daryl overhears you telling Judy a bedtime story and can't help but give you a nickname afterward, set in prison era

TW: just silly stuff

Okay but can you imagine Daryl calling you dumb variation of something he had overheard as nicknames for you. Okay let me explain:

You were babysitting Judy and it was time for a bedtime story. When you were little you loved listening, hearing, or reading stories before bed. So you really wanted Judy to experience this. You were sitting in the common room area, Judy in her baby carrier while you were folding some laundry. You glanced up once in a while to the little girl, finding her following you with her eyes, waving her little duck around Maggie and Glenn got for her. You made funny voice, facial expression and in general were very animated as you retold the story of Barbie in the Nutcracker. Sadly, you never had time or  money to see the ballett so this was the only version of the story you knew by heart. Sometimes you would sing a couple of verses from the songs, or dance around pretending to be a ballerina. Over the months on the road any hesitation or shame had left your mind. There were far more embarrassing things the grop had seen you do. Even when Daryl, who was sitting on the other side of the common room on a run down couch, fiddling with his crossbow, would snort at your antics or shake his head. You would just shoot him a look and an arched eyebrow, daring him to say something. But he knew better than to challenge your love for bedtime stories. 

Once you got to the end you revealed that Barbie was the sugar plum princess all along. You were so excited about it and Judy laughed when you picked her up, humming a song and slowly twirling around with her in your arms. 

“Ain’t you supposed to make her sleepy, not rile the lil asskicker up?” He drawled. You stopped your spinning, holding Judy close to your chest. She was still wiggling in your arms, waiting for you to start twirling her again. “Yeah, but Daryl! Barbie is the sugar plum princess.” You stared at him, making your eyes as wide as you could, so utterly serious as you said the ridiculous name. He just rolled his eyes, before getting up and picking Judy out of your arms, “All nonsense ain’t it.” He blew a raspberry on Judith's belly, making the little girl shriek. “Wha’ even is a Sugar Plum Princess,” it sounded hilarious coming from his smoke damaged voice. You wanted to laugh but instead you put your hands on your hip, looking at him exasperated. “Haven’t you been listening, Daryl?” 

This is how the nicknames started. “Alr’iht, sugar plum princess. Don’t need ya'all up in knots abou’ it.” He said handing Judith back to you. From that day on he would call you all kinds of variations of the name, “pumpkin pie elf”, “grape jelly gobblin”, "mac'n'cheese mermaid.” It was absolutely ridiculous the things he came up with. Yet, you could not help but look forward to what he would say next. It was a fun game trying to figure out what food item and fantasy creature he would mix together. 

You would always try and hide your laughter but Daryl could see the twinkle in your eyes, and the disappointed head shake lacked the same bite it had when you gave it to Carl. Even so, the game was fun, coming up with different names, scratching his brain for any of the fantasy stuff he knew. Normally, he would drive back in silence after a run just pondering over a new name. Glenn had complained to him that he never chatted in the car anymore. Today he had called you peach pie Gollum, which you could not help and burst out laughing. “That’s fair,” you held the peach can he had found close to your chest. Shaking your head you walked away from the car with the scavenged stuff. Daryl stared after you with a small grin on his face as well. “Man, you are so fucked,” Glenn commented, patting him on his shoulder.

Masterlist

[monster-disaster]

The bite marks and back scratch marks made me twirl my hair. lol!

Got me thinking what type of monster marriage rituals you think exist?

For humans we got the dresses, rings, and walking down the aisle, so I’m curious to know what other things the monster groom would have the human bride do?

Uh, I love this! I think there are a bunch of rituals that aren’t so common nowadays, they got forgotten, mixed in with human or other monster traditions, but there are still a few that stuck around.

(I'm rambling, and I'm extra sorry for my English.)

WOLF-SHIFTERS are pack creatures, always have been. The need for big families, close-knit communities, and strong bonds is basically in their DNA, so when a couple decides to get married, it’s not just about them tying the knot, it’s about welcoming a new packmate too (shifter or not). It’s a celebration of love, yes, but also of belonging. It’s loud, joyful, and a little wild. And because shifters blended into human society pretty easily over the centuries (thanks to their human forms), their wedding rituals look familiar, just a little more untamed if you look closer. No one is surprised by the bunch of unruly pups darting between chairs, howling and growling, or when wolves start wrestling in the grass after everything is said and done. Most weddings happen outside for that exact reason. Nature feels more like home. Forest clearings, fields full of wildflowers, anywhere with sky and space and soft ground to shift on. And look, it’s nothing new, but shifters don’t do distance. They stick close to their partners the whole day. The groom is (let's stay with monster!groom and human!bride, but it's true with two grooms or two brides too) not standing at the altar with some polite distance between him and his bride. Oh no. He is at her side every second he can be, brushing against her, scenting her, pressing soft kisses to her cheek or the side of her neck. He is all over her. And would it be cliché to bring a chasing kink into this? Maybe. But let’s be honest, that’s probably one of the oldest wedding-night traditions out there in shifter culture. It’s not just a kink, it’s a ritual. If the bride still has the energy to run, the shifter is more than happy to chase her under the stars. To catch her, pin her down gently in the moss, and make her his with the moon watching above. It’s playful, sacred, and a little primal, exactly the way they like it. _

In the past, I think ORC wedding rituals used to stretch on for days, sometimes even weeks. It wasn’t just about the ceremony, it was a whole event, all about proving devotion and strength. The orc bride or groom would show off in every way they could to prove they could take care of their partner. Hunting, crafting, fighting, cooking, whatever their skills were, they put it all on display. And when the big day finally came, the whole clan gathered around. It looked like a human wedding in some ways, but instead of exchanging rings, they used jewelry or (more often) handmade beads and decorative trinkets braided into each other’s hair. It didn’t have to be fancy, what mattered was that it was made with love and effort.

Nowadays, the showing-off ritual is kind of mixed into day-to-day relationships. When it comes to the wedding itself, they will absolutely still make or give their loved one hair accessories, and they will braid it into each other’s hair during the ceremony. Handmade is best, always. It’s not about the price, it’s about the meaning behind it.

Orc weddings can be just as rowdy as wolf-shifter ones, but the energy is different. The party is more focused on celebrating the couple. There’s always music, dancing, and tons of food, but they also have games and little competitions.

In the old days, the party ended for the couple when the groom would just toss his partner over his shoulder and carry them off into the night, literally stealing them away. It was dramatic and bold and got the whole crowd cheering, but now, things are a bit more equal. It’s not a rare sight to see the bride slyly luring her husband away when no one is looking, tugging him by the hand into the shadows with a mischievous grin that tells the orc everything he needs to know about the night ahead of him. _

With MINOTAURS, it was always more intimate and still is. Their weddings aren’t flashy or overly complicated. They’re the kind of gatherings where everyone pitches in. Family and friends cook, decorate, gather flowers, and set up the place. It's about creating something together.

Don’t get me wrong, minotaurs can absolutely be loud and love a good party, but their wedding rituals have a softer tone. Warm, steady, full of meaning. The day itself is about the couple, their love, and celebrating a new chapter. There’s joy and music, but also quiet moments, shared glances, heartfelt toasts, and the sense that something truly sacred is happening, even if it’s just in someone’s backyard or a field of wildflowers.

Over time, they adopted some human traditions, made them their own, but always kept some rituals close to their hearts. I can picture them using Stefana crowns (I hope that’s what they’re called). Delicate, handmade pieces crafted by family, woven with flowers, tiny beads, bits of ribbon, or polished stones. There’s one for the bride, and for the minotaur, it’s something decorative that fits around his horns. The two are tied together with a long ribbon, connecting them, a symbol of unity and the path they now walk side by side.

And while wearing rings is totally normal among minotaurs these days, it’s also not uncommon to see a small band or ring slipped onto one of their horns. It might be simple or engraved, but it’s always personal. Some even add more over the years; a ring for a child born, one for a major anniversary, or a vow renewed. Their horns become a quiet history of their love and life. _

If you marry a RAKSHASA, get ready to be pampered on your wedding day thoroughly and lovingly by your soon-to-be husband. The ceremony and the party afterward? That’s for family and friends. But before all of that, it’s just the two of you, tucked away in your own little world. And he makes absolutely sure it’s one of the best, most indulgent days of your life.

Rakshasas, being the big cats they are, adore comfort. Softness. Luxury. And on your big day, he insists you get the same. The morning starts slow and sweet. He wakes you gently, kisses your forehead, maybe purrs against your neck, and brings you breakfast. Then comes the bath. A shared soak in warm water filled with flower petals or herbs, the kind of scents that make your whole body sigh. He washes with care, long fingers massaging your scalp until your whole body melts. His touch is slow, teasing, and affectionate. He scrubs your skin, kneads your muscles, and holds you close. He drowns you in love, in care, in pleasure, and takes his time doing it. And he doesn’t stop there. He helps you with your dress, and if he’s practiced (and trust me, a lot of rakshasas absolutely will take the time to learn) he’ll do your hair too.

And of course, you return the gesture. You dress him in fine fabrics, soft layers that flatter his build, maybe even something traditional from his culture. You comb and groom him, tend to his jewelry, and by the time you are both done, you are glowing. Not just from the effort, but from how close you’ve grown through the ritual of preparing each other.

When you walk down the aisle, it’s together, hand in hand.

The party is for the guests, yes, it’s loud, vibrant, full of good food and dancing, but it never really touches that soft little bubble you and your rakshasa built earlier in the day. Through it all, he keeps you close. His arm around your waist, lips brushing your temple, low purrs just for you. The world can spin and celebrate, but the two of you stay wrapped in that private, intimate warmth.

_

I put NAGAS and DRAGONS in one, because honestly, in a lot of ways, they feel very similar. Especially when it comes to love and marriage. In the past, both species were deeply solitary. They didn’t seek out big families or surround themselves with friends. They lived alone, and when they chose a mate, it was rare. Sacred. Back then, marriage wasn’t really a concept for them. There were no ceremonies, no celebrations. Just two beings deciding they belonged to each other. That was enough. No need for witnesses. No need for traditions. It only started to change when dragons and nagas began mingling more with other monsters and cultures. So whatever kind of marriage ceremony they have nowadays comes from others. And even now, they only do it if it’s important to their partner. And when it’s over, when the guests are gone, they will pull you close, curl around you, and whisper something low and soft, in a language older than time. A promise that doesn’t need to be spoken out loud. A vow that’s just for the two of you. _

INCUBI and SUCCUBI are a lot like nagas and dragons in this sense. In the past (because of their nature, and more importantly, because of how the world saw them) they didn’t really have the luxury of settling down. Most didn’t even consider the idea of getting married. They were treated like temptations, like tools or taboos, not people you built a life with. So they learned to keep things light, temporary, easy to walk away from. And even now, marriage still isn’t really a priority for them. It’s not something they grow up dreaming about. It doesn’t define love for them the way it might for others. But it’s also not that rare anymore. Things change. Cultures shift. And they have found ways to belong. These days, when an incubus or succubus falls in love, really and truly, they are willing to go through whatever their partner wants to make it official in front of the law too. Not because they suddenly believe in the idea of marriage, but because their partner does. And that matters more. And when the night’s over, when the party fades, they don’t just undress you. They unwrap you. Like a gift they have waited their whole life to open. Something just for them. Their love is physical, yes, but more than that, it’s focused and fierce. _

Back then, for GOBLINS (and for the most part of the world) marriage was more of a contract than a romantic gesture. A business deal. Who had what, who gained what, how to merge households, goals, or fortunes. Love didn’t have much to do with it. And while the world has shifted and changed, for goblins, it’s been harder to let go of that old way of thinking. Even now, it’s not unusual for them to approach the whole ceremony like they’re finalizing a deal. Efficient. Straightforward. They often need their partner’s guidance to understand why things like flowers, vows, or a first dance might matter. Left to their own devices, some would just sign the papers, shake hands, and move on. Done and dusted. But it doesn’t mean they are loveless. Not at all. Goblins just... express affection differently. They are often very practical in their emotions. They’ll make sure your favorite tea is always stocked. They’ll learn how to fix things you break. They’ll remember the tiniest details of what you like or don’t like.

In the past, when arranged marriages were the norm, they often didn’t even know their partner before the wedding. Getting to know each other after the ceremony was part of the ritual, a tradition of slowly, carefully building something real. And this part is still very much alive in modern goblin culture. They don’t care much for big weddings. But the honeymoon? That’s a different story entirely.

That’s where they shine. Once everything official is done, goblins take pride in making sure their partner is completely comfortable. If their partner is okay with it, goblins absolutely prefer to disappear from the world for a while. No distractions, no outside world, just the two of you. And they plan everything carefully; good food, cozy settings, maybe a remote little cottage packed with all your favorite things. Just hide away and spend time together. It’s intimate in a quiet, thoughtful way.

[heliosunny]

Hi! An idea I'd love to see - Fae!Phainon with a Reader that used to play with him where they were a child and visited the little village they grandma lived in. It's too bad they made a little promise to him long time ago without thinking through the consequences and now that they are back...

Yandere!Fae Phainon x Reader

You were only a child when you first met him, lost in the dense, whispering woods beyond your grandmother’s village. The elders always warned you about the Fae, about the creatures that watched from the shadows, their laughter mingling with the rustling leaves.

They said the Fae despised humans. That they could see through human nature, through the greed and the lies, and that no bond between mortal and fae could ever be genuine.

But you were young. You didn’t understand hatred. Not yet.

You found Phainon sitting in the roots of an old, gnarled tree, silver hair tangled and matted, his strange, sharp blue eyes narrowed in pain. Bruises marred his skin, dark against his pale complexion. His fine, delicate clothes were torn, though even in their ruined state, they were more elegant than anything you had ever seen.

It was clear that he was not human. He glared at you, his small hands curling into fists as you stepped closer.

“Go away!” His voice was sharp, like the cold bite of winter. “I don’t need your pity.”

You hesitated.

“I just want to help” you said.

Phainon bared his teeth at you, his pointed canines flashing in the dim light. “Help? Like a human could ever help me.”

Even at that young age, his hatred for humans ran deep. You should have listened. You should have left. But instead, you did something foolish. You took him back to your grandmother’s house.

It was not easy. He resisted at first, lashing out like a wounded animal, but he was too weak to fight you properly. The moment your grandmother saw him, her face paled, and she immediately started whispering old protection charms under her breath. But she did not turn him away.

“Fae or not, a child is a child” she murmured as she tended to his wounds.

Phainon never forgot that.

For days, he was silent. You would sit near him, chattering about the village, about the flowers that bloomed in spring, about how you wished you could fly like the birds. You never expected him to respond. Until one evening, when the fire crackled low, he finally spoke. “I hate humans” he whispered, staring into the flames. “They’re cruel. Selfish. Liars.” You were quiet for a moment. Then, you asked, “Do you hate me?” Phainon turned his head, and for the first time, he truly looked at you. “…I don’t know yet.”

Time passed, and Phainon became your only fae friend.

He showed you the hidden places in the woods where the fae danced under the moonlight. You brought him food from the village, and in return, he whispered the names of things humans had forgotten, the true names of the wind and the rivers, the secret paths that bent reality itself.

But the fae did not forget. Phainon was warned, again and again, that no good would come from caring for a human. And yet, he stayed.

When the time came for you to leave your grandmother’s village, you saw something you never expected in his eyes. Desperation.

“You’ll come back” he said.

You smiled. “Of course, I will. And when I do, we’ll be together. Forever.”

It was just a childhood promise. A silly thing. You meant it in the way children always do fleeting, thoughtless, without weight.

But words have power. And the fae never forget.

Years passed. The world changed. Fate pulled you back to that village, back to where Phainon waited, where your long-forgotten promise had never been forgotten at all.

Phainon had changed.

Once a wary, quiet fae, he had risen through the ranks, becoming one of the most revered among his kind. Where once his presence had been dismissed, now fae spoke of him in hushed admiration, their words laced with awe and devotion. He was no longer just Phainon, he was an elite, his power undeniable, his beauty otherworldly.

When you returned to your grandmother’s house, the air felt different. She was no longer there.

The fae had not forgotten you, nor had they forgiven. The moment you stepped into the village, whispers slithered through the wind, voices filled with contempt.

“The human has returned.”

“They dare come back after abandoning him?”

“Phainon will visit them. Let’s see if they still holds that promise.”

You barely had time to react before you felt it, an undeniable presence looming nearby. And then, from the shadows, he stepped forward.

Phainon stood before you, taller, sharper, his gaze piercing through you with unreadable intensity.

“You came back!” One evening, while wandering near the village, you stumbled upon a scene that made you pause. A beautiful fae woman, adorned in glistening silks and with eyes full of admiration, stood before Phainon, her voice carrying through the air.

“Phainon, you have become someone great. Would you consider taking me as your bonded one?”

A silence stretched between them before he replied, his tone cold and dismissive. “No.”

The fae woman's face twisted in disbelief. “Why? Is it because of the human?” Her gaze flickered in your direction before she turned on her heel and vanished into the night.

Later, you found Phainon sitting beneath the same ancient oak you used to share. Smirking, you teased “So, rejecting admirers now? You must be quite popular.”

He sighed, but the corner of his lips quirked slightly. “Their affections are meaningless.”

You nudged him playfully. “I dunno, she seemed quite taken with you.”

Phainon only looked at you, his gaze unreadable.

However, what you didn’t see was the seething anger lingering in the eyes of the rejected fae. She had seen the way Phainon looked at you, the way he reserved his softer moments for you alone. Her heart burned with jealousy, and she would not accept being cast aside so easily.

That night, something was slipped into your drink. A strange, shimmering liquid that clouded your vision and made your limbs feel weightless. Panic gripped you as the world spun, and before you could cry for help, only one name slipped from your lips.

“Phainon…”

He was there in an instant, catching you as you collapsed. His grip tightened as he caught the scent of foul magic laced within you.

“Who did this?” His voice was deathly quiet, but rage simmered beneath his words.

You barely managed to whisper “I... don't know.”

His expression turned lethal. Whoever dared to harm you would pay.

A flush spread across your cheeks, and your fingers instinctively gripped his cloak. "Phainon... I feel strange."

Realizing something was terribly wrong, he scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you inside your room as you buried your face against his chest, your breath ragged.

Laying you down on your bed, his fingers brushed your damp hair back, his gaze flickering with a mixture of worry and something deeper. "Focus on me." he whispered.

A strange, intoxicating need curled in your gut, making you shift restlessly. Your hand trailed up his arm, seeking warmth, grounding. He exhaled sharply, his resolve flickering. "Damn it" he muttered, reaching into his pouch with one hand while the other took out a dagger. He brought a bundle of crushed herbs to your lips. He used the dagger to cut his wrist, leaving blood flows upon your lips "Chew on this. Careful."

You obeyed, the bitterness jolting your senses. The fog clouding your mind slowly lifted, though your body still trembled with residual heat. Phainon's thumb brushed against your bottom lip as he ensured you swallowed the antidote, his eyes lingering on yours.

"Better?" His voice was quieter now, rough with restraint.

You nodded slowly, the frantic beating of your heart beginning to settle. "Phainon... thank you."

His fingers traced your cheek before he pulled away, visibly struggling with his emotions. "They won’t get away with this" he vowed. But the fae were relentless. The whispers started first, mocking murmurs whenever you walked through the village. "Pathetic human" one sneered. "Thinking you belong here just because Phainon protects you."

Another laughed cruelly. "He only pities you. Do you really think he’d ever choose a weak creature like you over his own kind?"

Shoves in the marketplace, stolen goods, malicious pranks that left bruises and cuts, each incident only added to the growing tension. When you confronted Phainon about it, he merely stared at you, his eyes unreadable. Then came the worst of it. You had been walking near the cliffs, taking in the salty air, when you felt an unnatural shove against your back. The world blurred as you teetered dangerously close to the edge. A voice whispered "Oops, did you slip?"

A shriek tore from your throat as you struggled to regain balance, the abyss below calling to you. Just as you began to fall, strong arms wrapped around you, yanking you back with inhuman speed. Phainon.

He turned to your attacker, his expression deathly cold. "You dare lay a hand on Y/n?" His voice was low, laced with a promise of suffering. The air crackled with an ominous energy, the fae responsible shrinking back in fear.

You clung to him. "Phainon, don't waste your energy on such matter."

But the damage was done. When you returned to the house, you made a firm decision. "I should leave" you said firmly. "If they keep coming after me, it’ll only put you at risk too."

"But... You promised me that we will be together forever." he whispered, brushing his fingers along your wrist, where your pulse trembled. "You said we'd never part. That no force in this world or the next could take you from me."

You didn't remember making such a promise. Forever? That word felt too large, too binding. Yet Phainon gazed at you with the certainty of someone who never forgot. His ethereal blue eyes shimmered in the dim light, holding you captive in their depths.

You tried to deny it, but a distant memory stirred, laughter echoing beneath the silver moon, hands clasped tight. Oh the naivety of youth. You hadn't thought it serious. But Phainon had.

"And now..." He raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against your fingertips before turning your palm upward. A faint, sharp sting followed, his nail slicing just enough to draw a drop of crimson.

Your protest died on your lips when he did the same to himself, allowing a single droplet of his shimmering fae blood to meet yours. The moment they touched, the world shifted.

A searing warmth crawled through your veins, more intoxicating than fire, more binding than chains. Your breath hitched as unseen threads wove around your soul, pulling tight. You swayed, gripping Phainon's arm for balance, and he only smiled, his touch gentle, his eyes alight with triumph.

"It's done. I've been planning this for so long." He licked on your fresh wound, it healed almost immediately. His voice held no malice, only devotion "You are mine, as I am yours."

"Do you remember the night you drink my blood along with those herbs. I didn't expect them to act so careless. But lucky me, you didn't even doubt a thing. With this bond, you can never leave."

A chill ran through you, even as your senses sharpened. You could hear the whisper of leaves outside, feel the heartbeat of the forest in time with your own. You had changed.

The following days brought a drastic shift. Barriers of ancient magic wove around your grandmother’s house, binding you in an invisible cage. Phainon's voice carried over the wind "No matter what happens, you’re staying here. With me. Forever"

[rottiens]

Vvvv... VVVV...

... ZHONGLI MORAX SMUT... ZHONGLI/MORAX BREEDING SMUT... PWEASE

✮ cw. . (18+), breeding kink, afab reader, marking. divider creds: cafekitsune.

I think the essence of being a dragon drags with it those primordial instincts. The fact that they are such territorial and possessive creatures is something that Morax can't always fight against.

Despite being an Archon and knowing that he possesses more power than the others, Morax doesn't miss the opportunity to show his followers that you are his. That you have been chosen to be by his side, in his home, in his temple where people worship him and bring him gifts, in his chambers.

His arm always wrapped around your waist, his broad hand constantly finding space on your lower back. Teeth marks you wear as jewels on your neck or wrist.

There, where the murmur of the people who often congregate outside the temple comes as whispers and where the footsteps of the crowd sometimes make you shudder because they sound like thunder; with the candle fires dancing merrily and conjuring shadows on his face, Morax forces you to look at him. His long, slender fingers grip your jaw with just enough force to keep you from escaping.

“Eyes on me,” he commands in a husky voice, charged with pleasure.

Hearing him, your eyelashes flutter, focusing on him and him alone. You shift your hips deeper, as the silk robe that was gifted to you a few moons ago falls angelically over your shoulders and drapes like a curtain over your hips. The color highlights your skin and fits perfectly to your body measurements, after all, it was made with a fabric specially chosen by the Archon, like each of the clothes you wear.

Your breasts shudder with each new rhythm at which your bodies sway, a perfect dance that causes Morax to thrust his hips from below and grunt through his teeth. Eventually, the position you were in unravels and you end up lying on the sheets, your feet dangling on his shoulders; his hands flattened on the mattress on either side of your head.

“You're so deep inside me,” you whisper through half-opened lips. All you could feel was him, his overwhelming presence, his body crushing you to the floor.

Morax is looking at you, not directly into your eyes but where his cock comes in and splits you in two. He's drunk in the way your juices wet his cock and the way your clit peeks out from between swollen lips.

The thought of cumming inside you has his pelvis clenching warning him of his own soon release, his breath escaping heavy through his nose and his teeth grinding against each other. Morax leans back and carefully lowers your legs off his shoulders to then sit on his own feet, thighs bent as he grabs your hips, lifts you off the mattress and with his strength uses you freely to move you up and down at his whim.

The wet sounds of your pussy fill the room, your cries are silenced by your teeth biting into your own forearm.

“Mine… mine… mine…” Morax growls, his golden eyes stained with lust.

In between stroking your stomach and thighs to bring comfort after his hard thrusts, Morax cums with a grunt, thrusting so deep inside you that the curly hairs are brushing against your pussy lips. And now, he wishes, this is the time he could finally see you pregnant with his babies. There is nothing that would give him more satisfaction than to see you with swollen breasts, sensitive nipples, being adored for being the woman carrying a semi-archon in her womb.

[dreamingcricket]

politely requesting either halsin or astarion with a tav/reader who like..shrugs off their advances bc they don’t think someone like either of them would take interest in them. like very oblivious to the fact that people actually like them. (totally not self indulgent lmao) ((i love mutual pining to lovers i-))

CW: Mild sexual content, reader is injured

Astarion has started to question whether this is your way of gently rebuffing him, or you're actually this dense.

He's not a subtle flirt. He uses all his most seasoned tricks, exhausts every overture he can think of. He can't remember wanting anyone this much. And yet, every one of his suggestive quips is laughed off.

He's there in the morning, sliding in beside you as you drink your tea. "Good morning, beautiful. You're looking absolutely radiant today." He runs a finger down your arm. When you blush and smile back, something warms in the pit of his stomach.

He's there as you put on your armour. "Allow me, dove." And as he tightens the straps on your mantle, he lets his fingers brush the underside of your jaw. "There. Just right." He purrs into your ear.

And of course, when he feeds. He takes his time, pulling you close, cradling your head, running his fingers through your hair. He nuzzles into your neck before he bites, pressing his lips against your rabbiting pulse for just a moment longer than he should.

Even in battle, when he's swiftly at your back, flashing you brilliant smiles as he races to your defense, you jovially thank him, like you do all your companions. Like he's your friend. Just your friend.

All efforts so far, completely ignored.

So now he watches you from across camp, the firelight dancing across your features as you laugh (he tries to ignore the tender stirring in his chest at the sound).

He throws back his glass of wine, and grimaces at the pitying glances of his compatriots. Of course it was obvious to anyone except you.

You stood, bid Wyll and Karlach goodnight, but instead of disappearing into your tent, you vanished into the brush.

Astarion sat for a long moment. He should let you go. You clearly weren't interested, and he should just... move on. Like he always had.

Who are you kidding, you fool?

He didn't care that he startled Gale with his speed and he pursued you into the woods.

You were seated on a rock, your face turned up toward a shaft of moonlight, eyes closed. He stopped to admire you.

"Sorry I took off. I just wanted to enjoy the quiet."

"I'll go, if you want me to."

You start, and turn towards his voice. "Astarion, didn't expect you."

"Were you expecting someone?"

"No... just-

He's suddenly surging forward without thought, and the two of you are rolling across the grass.

"Astarion, what the fu-"

He silences you with a burning kiss, brimming with anger and desperation. You roll him onto his back, furiously returning his advance. "What-" you pant between kisses. "-took you so long, idiot."

He's furiously tugging at your linen shirt, baring your back and shoulders. You'd be angry if you weren't still reeling.

"You never flirted back!" He pins you down, only to find his hips locked between your legs.

"I flirt constantly, Astarion! You drink my blood every night! I've been waiting for you to take the next step for weeks!" Now it's you tearing at his shirt, your hands groping for purchase on his shoulders. "I thought you didn't think of me like that." Now it's your lips against his neck, and he chokes on a moan.

"That's not flirting!" He's never been this heated during sex. He's a collected lover, and for all the inherent violence of his existence, he realizes - he wants to be gentle. At least this time.

He takes your hands in his and stills your thrashing. You lock eyes, both of you out of breath, chests heaving. He places a single, gentle kiss to the palm of your hand. "Shall we begin again, love?"

"I'd like that."

"My name's Astarion. You are a truly stunning creature," he leans down, and whispers to you, "... and I'd very much like to make love to you tonight."

Halsin thinks you are quite possibly the most extraordinary person he's ever met.

 

He can't erase the image of you the first time he saw you from his mind, eyes ablaze, arcane power crackling at your fingertips. 

He's had so many partners, but all of his love affairs were brief, transient. Deep, but nothing had ever moved him like this. Typically, Halsin is straightforward with his feelings. His passing dalliances with fellow druids and traveling rangers had never daunted him. But with you, making his feelings known was... complicated.

You'd been through a significant trauma, and while you put on a quite the brave face, ever the intrepid leader, he's been around long enough to see your fragility. You'd seen so many horrors in such a short amount of time. Emotions were running high, he wouldn't risk coming on too strong.

So instead... he brought you gifts. It was a very natural way to court someone, at least. Baskets of berries, a fresh catch from the river, perhaps they're gifts to his own taste, but he hopes you'll enjoy them.

He offered to braid your hair, to help ease the tension in your shoulders with a massage in the evenings (his hands are absolutely enormous, which certainly helps). 

And, unbeknownst to the rest of the camp, and to his mild shame, he couldn't help but rub his scent near your tent. He wouldn't invade your boundaries and touch your things, but he couldn't help his instincts. Lae'zel noticed at last, but only scoffed and offhandedly remarked, "The way you dance around your affections is pathetic. Tell them, or stop simpering."

Things eventually came to a head when you were injured, badly. The arrow tore through your side, and you hit the ground before you could register you'd been shot, the world became pain and a blur of color and noise. 

Halsin was by your side in a heartbeat, shielding you with his frame as spells and arrows flew overhead.

"Don't move little one, you're losing blood." He sounded calm, but there was a tremor in his voice. You'd never seen him afraid before.

"Halsin..."

"Shh, shh. Hold still." His magic flows through you, and the muscles in your side knit back together as he pulls the arrow free.

"Halsin." Your hand lifted to weakly brush his cheek. Your vision was swimming. 

The thunderous roar of battle magic echoed nearby. Gale rushed towards you. "Are they alright?"

"They will be." Halsin spoke it like an oath. "But they're weak." 

"We'll finish this, get them to safety!"

Halsin cradled your body to his chest and barreled off the battlefield. You drifted in and out of consciousness, but were always aware of his arms around you. They felt like safety. Like home.

The druid ducks behind a half destroyed wall, and begins to reassess your wound. "Gods, you frightened me." He lays you down carefully, head in his lap, and begins to clean the wound. 

You smile up at him. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me."

"I like this."

He's puzzled. "Being horribly injured?"

"Being held by you." 

At that moment, your body finally gave out, and your vision went black. 

When you woke, bandaged and sore, in your tent, Halsin was sitting by your bedroll with his back to you. Recalling in horror the confession you'd made, you try to pretend you were still asleep. 

"I know you're awake, little one." 

You sigh. "I'm... about what I said, I'm sorry. I know you don't feel that way, and-" 

"Stop." He turned and placed a finger against your lips. "No more words." 

You braced for his rejection. At least the druid was kind, empathetic. Or perhaps his pity would make it worse. 

His lips coming down on yours were not what you expected. He was gentle, and smelled of moss and pretrichor, dark soil and sweat. You kissed him back, laughing into his mouth. 

He pulls away, then presses his forehead to yours. "I'm here. As long as you'll have me." 

"Oh, I intend to." Your attempt to sit up is hampered by a shock of pain from your wound. "Ow. Shit."

Halsin guides you back down to your pillows. "All in good time, little one."

[icurushasfallen]

Hear me out: Logan had cuteness aggression with Wade.

I mean, come on! Just look at him. How could anyone not want to smush his face between their palms and shake violently.

But I don’t think Logan has the same cuteness aggression like other people. You know how it goes, you see a cute dog or cat or some animal and start to baby-talk and pet and cuddle them. (Aka Wade with Puppins) Or maybe you’ll bend to the creatures every whim and give that animal/pet an extra treat because ‘they’re such a good boy!!!!!’

Logan? Nah. No way in hell. His cuteness aggression is literal aggression. He’ll straight up see Wade make a face like this:

And just. Bite. Grip. HERE ME OUT

When they’re dancing around each other and then just freshly dating. Logan’s hands are to himself. Gentle, light touches like Wade is a fragile little thing. But then as things start to pick up and they start to learn each other’s boundaries and such- he’s going fucking feral.

I imagine Wade doing something stupid or purposefully annoying and then just does a slight expression that makes Logan’s heart ache. Or when the light catches just so on Wade’s pocked features and illuminates perfectly.

What else can Logan do but bite and grip.

I Imagine him just gripping Wade’s shoulder tightly and sinking his teeth in. Maybe even shaking him about a little. And at first Wade’s like ‘What the fuck peanut? Did I do something wrong 😑’ But then he learns why Logan does it and then is all like ‘OMFG YOU A PUPPY :D’ or ‘MARK ME UP BIG BOY’

Maybe in the wee hours of the morning or night Logan with just straight up lick Wade’s neck. Not even in a sexual way, just like a cat lick or something. I really like the idea of Logan being a feral hybrid man who for once in his life can truly be himself without restriction, restraint or judgement. Because honestly, Wade’s just as manic and feral.

@atimesfeeler @ramblingautisticman

@icarusredwings @twilightkitkat @bougiebutchbinch

[spurbleu]

ridiculous concept that came to me during post-nap nausea vision. cw. vampire reader x serial killer simon. proceed with cation im deadass. ~500 words

you’re in a perpetual state of starving.

it's a horrific feeling- to be acutely aware of how slowly your body dies around you. you condemn yourself to this suffering- but you cannot will death to take you. a snake that eats its tail, only to grow larger.

tonight, the patience snaps.

she’s about your size. hair in a ponytail that you could tug if you tried hard enough. milks the salty lights that hum over the bar and laughs with an ease you cannot remember having. alive.

you stay at the corner of the pub for hours. the waiter tried to get you to drink three times. you gave in on the fourth and bought a water. eyes dancing a triangle waltz- clock, windows, her. waiting until she’s alone so you could continue being undead for one more masochistic month.

she leaves as she pulls a cigarette from her pocket. you almost laugh at the irony. two deadly vices bringing you and your victim together.

it’s dark in the alleyway. blackberry marmalade where she leans up against the brick wall, burning herself at both ends. you feel suddenly sick, gripping the comically large kitchen knife in your hand. it's amateurish- to be bambi-legged where you are supposed to be ruthless.

inhuman.

then a cold bites at your neck and you're moved to stay squatting. something is wrong. something is here with you, and it promises danger.

manifests itself into a pair of broadening shoulders and a brutal swing. his figure swallows the moonlight and the girl without a wince. her smaller world ends on the concrete with blood in her mouth and a scream that only reached her teeth.

he stands without remorse. a wicked creature- capable of violence and cold blood murder- that appeared wholly and completely human. a strange envy pulses up your neck- wondering if your resolve had been traded for your mortality.

and then he looks at you. Or, through you.

all of your masked evil strips away. unravels into a hungry thing that stares at the girl's body with a mouth that didn’t know it could eat.

he points where she lies lifeless, and you watch an apparition of yourself dive for her neck, feeding. your body racks with sobs- for the girl that he killed. how much she looked like you if you hadn’t become what you are. how much you enjoy it- her blood and flesh and life collapsing into yours.

she’s only bones and skin when you stand. he stares at you, and the normal shape of his teeth makes you shiver- abnormally dull. A monster with all of its malice without the appearance. hiding in plain sight.  

when he smiles, it’s worse. “tha’ better, sweet’eart?”

you nod. he pulls you into his arms, and despite feeling more alive than you ever have, you do not have the strength to pull away. you don’t even know if you’d want to.

“jus’ le’me take care of ya now.”

[kitkat13001]

⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 outro.

facing tempests of dust, i’ll fight until the end creatures of my dreams raise up and dance with me now and forever, i’m your king…

⤷ satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

⤷ hurt no comfort!! 🙈 mentions of blood and injury, canon-typical violence, titled after the song by m83 (listen for best [worst?] experience)

you know your time is running out as you reach for your phone with trembling hands. your fingers nearly slip as you dial, slick with blood. you know the number by heart. 

satoru always picks up by the second ring. 

“hiii!! how’s my beautiful baby doing? kicking cursed ass i presume?”

the cheeriness of his voice is enough to bring a soft smile to your face. 

“yeah,” you manage, fingers curled tight around the gaping wound in your side. “not a goddamn one in sight…”

that part is the truth at least. every curse you’d been sent here to exorcise had left, abandoning your broken and battered body to die here. 

“you on your way home?”

home…now there’s a thought. you close your eyes for a brief second (though it feels like much longer) and envision it. 

satoru, waiting for you at the door like an overexcited puppy. the smell of dinner wafting throughout the house. he probably ordered your favorite to celebrate you coming home. probably invited his students, too. nanami, maybe if he could convince him to come. shoko might stop by, just to check on you and say hey. 

but at the rate you’re bleeding out, with how far you are from where you were supposed to be picked up? …you’d never make it. 

“baby?”

“i’ll see you—” you wince, biting your lip to keep from crying out as you shift. “—soon, ‘toru. don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head.”

“what’s wrong?”

you should’ve known there’s no fooling him. his voice has shifted from his special you-tone to crisis handling. he knows something is up. 

“nothing,” you try, but the pain is evident in your voice now. you did always hate keeping things from him. 

“where are you? i’ll come get you right now, just tell me where you are.”

things are beginning to blur and your eyelids feel heavy. “i…i don’t know. there’s…there’s trees? it’s getting dark, ‘toru…”

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” panic is rising in his voice now, and it sends a tinge of guilt to your bleeding stomach.“okay, don’t worry, baby. don’t worry, i’m coming. fuck, where was your mission supposed to be?”

you mumble something, and even you’re unsure of what you’re saying. 

there’s things moving and muffled voices on the line, and you call out weakly for satoru, just to hear his voice again. 

“i’m here.” his voice is breaking, and it’s not the static. “i’m here, baby, don’t worry. i’m on my way. i’ll get to you, i promise. don’t worry.”

you’re not worried, but you think the sentiment is more for himself anyway. you’re on your back now, and the sky looks endless. the blue has begun to fade into reds and oranges and pinks, dotted with green from the branches above you. maybe this isn’t such a bad place to die…

“i’m coming, sweetheart. i’m on my way, just stay with me, okay?”

you know his hands are shaking. you wish you could be there to squeeze them until he calms down.

“just…just stay on the line with me? please…?” 

he makes a faint choked noise. “always. i’m always here.”

your time is running out, you can feel it seeping through your fingers like the blood rapidly pooling on the ground. 

he’s babbling what seems to you like nonsense, his voice growing fainter and fainter. 

“stay with me, baby, please.”

you want to. god, you want to. 

“i’m here,” you echo, voice little more than a whisper on the evening breeze. “always here.”

there’s more muffled noises on the other end, but you’re becoming less coherent by the second. 

you lose sight of the sky, now turning dark, when your eyes flutter closed. 

you think you say “i love you.”

you hope he says it back. 

dividers by @/saradika-graphics — this one hurt. i have nothing but apologies to say for this one….

[team-free-avengers]

Summer Lovin'

Summary: You and Bucky can no longer keep your feelings to yourself the last night of camp.

Pairing: Lifeguard Bucky Barnes x Camp Counselor Reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Mature Language, slightly rough sex, hair pulling, spanking, unsafe sex

Word Count: 1395

You’re finally off the clock and making your way down to the part of the beach that’s only for staff ready for one final dip in the lake. As you do you pass the lifeguard tower you see Bucky finishing up his final checks and sending him a flirty wave. The two of you have been flirting and dancing around each other all summer but tonight is your last chance if you want to make a move. Not willing to miss the opportunity you make sure he has the perfect view of you as you strip your uniform top and jean shorts to reveal the skimpiest bikini you brought with you on the trip. It’s the perfect shade of red to match his lifeguard uniform but it only covers the bare essentials so you could only ever wear it in the cover of the now setting sun. It’s not dark enough for her to miss the look that crosses his face as he soaks in every inch of her bare body. 

“Like what you see?” You call out giving him a little show twirling in different directions. 

“From here yeah, but I might need a closer look,” he responds, stepping towards you with a growl. 

You let out a shocked giggle and run toward the lake trying to lead him into the water. When he finally catches up to you he pulls your body backwards towards his own letting his fingers explore every inch of you on the surface.

“You’ve run from me all summer, this game of cat and mouse ends tonight,” he whispers into your ear slowly biting the lobe before making his way down your neck with kisses. 

You can feel his growing erection pressing into your backside as his finger makes its way to your top. He begins messaging your breast gently at first before sliding his fingers under the small fabric to pinch and play with your erect nipples, “you know this bikini covers nothing,” he grumbles giving your nipples a tug, “you might as well just take it off.” 

With a slight moan escaping your lips you reach behind your neck and untie the top before doing the same with the back attachment. Before it can fall in the water Bucky catches the top tossing it towards the beach. He spins you around ducking his head to catch your nipple in his mouth sucking on your breast. Your breath catches in your throat and your fingers grip his hair. 

“Oh Bucky!” You moan leaning back so he can access your breast easier.

He continues for a minute longer alternating breasts as he does before pulling away to look you in the eye and swoop in for a kiss pulling you closer to him. 

“We should head back to my cabin,” Bucky says breathlessly in between kisses, his manhood poking into you as it tries to break free of his swim trunks simply making you more eager. 

You slip your camp shirt back on, opting to just carry your now sandy bikini top and shorts with you as you make your way back to his cabin. Bucky is the last lifeguard at the camp since all the kids leave tomorrow so he has the only solo cabin in the place and you are eagerly anticipating what that means for you. 

As the cabin comes into sight you make a run for the door, “Race you!” You call over your shoulder causing Bucky to sprint after you. 

Reaching the door first you fling it open and take your shirt off turning to wait for Bucky in just your thong bikini bottoms. You don’t have to wait long because he’s in the room with the door shut behind him almost instantly. He begins walking towards you like a starved creature causing you to back up until the back of your knees are touching the bed. Pushing you back, you land with a thud sprawled out on his twin size bed waiting for his next move. 

His hands grip the strings that hold your bottoms together and tug until they come off as well leaving you completely naked beneath him. Bucky takes in the sight of you all flush and ready to be taken before leaning down to shower your body in kisses. Starting at your stomach he makes his way slowly up your body stopping to circle his tongue slowly over your left nipple a few times before sucking it into his mouth. Doing the same thing to the right nipple he continues up one side of your neck stopping to most likely leave a few hickeys along the way before ending at your mouth. The two of you begin to make out intensely for a few minutes before he breaks away to make his way back down you body stopping just below your belly button.

Slowly he lifts both your legs spreading them out on either side of him to reveal you wet pussy, giving you a slight smirk he dips his head trailing even more soft kisses down your mound to the opening of your lips before letting his tongue flick out and slip in between them tasting the sweet juices you are producing for him. He releases a guttural moan before propping your lower half at an angle and burning his face deeper between your lips, sucking and licking at your clit for a few more minutes. Just when you are about to come he pulls aways

Bucky stands above you with a cocky smirk on his face as he lets his swim trunks drop, “I don’t want you coming just yet doll. Every time you come I want it to be on my dick,” he explains ins a husky lust filled voice as he climbs back on top of you, “You ready for me to stretch that pretty pussy out doll?” 

You give him a frantic nod but that isn;t enough for him, “Uh-uh I need to hear you say it,” he whispers into your ear slowly running his dick up and down your pussy waiting for you to get the words out.

“Please Bucky. Please fuck me I need you cum,” you beg thrusting your hips towards him in hopes of some sort of relief your body is longing for.

With one final kiss to your neck he lets himself finally slip into you slowly and an unexpected gasp escapes your lips from the euphoria you feel. All summer you both have danced around the idea of this and now it has finally happened, the wait was definitely worth it because with a few strokes you're cumming all over him already. Bucky doesn’t stop, he doesn’t even slow down, he just fucks you right through it and keeps going. 

“Do you like that baby?” he asks kissing and biting along the area between your neck and jaw.

“It feels so good,” you moan, letting your nails drag down his back in an attempt to stabilize yourself.                                                                                    

“Good because I’m only just getting started,” he responds before pulling out and flipping you over. 

Slipping back into you he grabs your ass with one hand while using the other to give you a few good spanks, a shocked moan escaping you each time he did, “you like that you dirty girl?” he asks while spanking you again.

You don’t manage to get any words out so you just simply nod before dropping your head to the bed. Your head is only down for a minute before you feel your french braid being tugged slightly.

“Keep that head up, I didn't say you could put it down,” Bucky says sternly, keeping hold of your braid so there was a slight tug everytime he pushed into you.

He kept going for another ten minutes alternating between tugging your hair and smacking your ass until you came all over him once again before he finished himself with a loud moan. 

Pulling out of you he flops onto the bed tugging you down beside him, “We should’ve done that sooner,” he says casually kissing your temple as if you two have always been an item.

“Oh yeah I’m sure your bunk mates would have loved the show,” you respond jokingly curling over to cuddle into his chest knowing that after tomorrow morning you won’t see him until next summer if he returns.