#but then he sees the ballerina on one leg too

[the-commonplace-book]

just saying... if they didn't want us to ship wanderlumi, then why did they make the ballerina in the Wanderer: Ashes retelling of The Steadfast Tin Soldier look like Lumine hmm????

[jasmines-library]

Hey! i just wanted to say that your work is phenomenal! You got me sobbing in bed at 3 in the morning. I was wondering if I could request a Batfam x child!Wayne!Reader (maybe 4/5 years old) and what they’re all like (individually) when picking her up from school? In her class, they were learning about the great Batman, and all the hard work he does for the city, keeping everybody safe and whatnot. And obviously, she’s too small to know Bruce is Batman.. how would they all react to little baby Wayne rambling about cool Batman who has his own car and sidekick? I’d imagine she’s a very talkative kid, very sweet and friendly, and a very big-Daddy’s girl, but it’s completely up to you.

Thanks for listening to my rambling.. and keep up your awesome work!

Baby Wayne

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: This is one of the most adorable requests ever anon! Thank you for requesting and thank you for your kind words. I hope I’ve done your request justice.

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BRUCE:

He could see the smile on your face from the doorway. Bright and beaming as you sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning forward to listen to your teacher. The second you saw him lingering in the doorframe however, the smile grew and you were up on your feet in seconds and tottering over to him.

Wrapping your arms around his legs you hugged him tightly and looked up at him with big eyes. Picking you up and resting you on his hip, Bruce pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Hey sweetheart. Good day?”

You nodded excitedly, clinging to your dad. “We learnt about Batman today!” You exclaimed.

Bruce couldn’t help the small smirk that crept onto his face. You were still too young to know about his identity and he did well to keep it from you. You were always exploring and wondering off in the manor. He was sure you would make a fine vigilante one day, but for now he was keep to keep you sheltered.

“Oh really?” He raised a brow.

“Yep!” You said, popping the ‘p’. “He’s awesome! He has a cool car and side kicks! And he keeps the city safe! He’s super cool.”

Bruce bounced you up in his arms, savouring the joy in your voice. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded. “When I grow up I wanna be just like him Daddy!”

“I’m sure you will be kiddo.” Bruce smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

DICK:

He was waiting by the school gates, leaning up against the metal framing when your class came piling out of the doors. Bruce was out on a meeting, so he was tasked with collecting you from school, which of course he had no problem doing.

When you saw him, he made his way over slowly, watching as your face lit up at the sight of him and you came running over him with your bag hanging halfway off one shoulder.

“Dick look!” You beamed crashing into him as you ran a little too fast. Moving away you pointed to the yellow and black sticker you had plastered to the hem of the coat.

Dick crouched down to your height. “What you got there, squirt?”

“It’s the bat signal.” You announced proudly. “We learnt about it in class today.”

“You learnt about Batman?” Dick asked. He had wondered how long it would be until you began to learn about what they did.

“Yes we learnt about all of the heroes. But Batman is my favourite because he saves the city and he has a sidekick!” You grinned “Robin! I like him too.”

Dick hid his little grin by tussling your hair. He couldn’t wait for you to learn more.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

JASON:

Seeing Jason picking you up was a nice surprise for you when you finished class. You were ecstatic to see him and ran up to him squealing.

“Jay!” You giggled and he picked up and spun you around in the air. “I missed you.”

He had been away on business. You had constantly been asking Bruce about when you would see him again. You had began to miss his face at home.

“Guess what we’ve been learning about!?”

“Hmm.” Jason bit his lip pretending to think “pirate ballerinas”

You placed a playful hit to his chest with a laugh. “No silly. Batman!”

A-ha. Jason thought. this would be interesting. He wondered how much you had been told, though he doubted no matter how much you had learnt, that you had managed to piece things together.

“Was it good?” He asked you.

“It was great! He saves all of the people and is a real hero!” You said waving your arms animatedly. “He’s so brave!”

“He is.” Jason agreed. “Just like you little Wayne”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TIM:

Tim found you doodling at one of the tables in the library. You had an array of colours sprawled out in front of you as you scribbled on the pieces of paper infront of you.

He peered over your shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of your drawing. You had draw stick figures, which made it hard to go by but even with your messy doodles he could make out the distinctive domino masks of the Robin and the black of Batman’s suit and cowl. He knew them like the back of his hand, so it was no surprise.

“What you drawing, kiddo?” He asked you.

You gripped the drawing with your hands and held it up proudly to him. “Batman and Robin. We learnt about them in class so I wanted to draw them.”

“It’s very good kid.” Tim told you, handing you back the drawing of the lopsided people only for you to hand it back to him.

“Can we put it on the fridge?” You asked curiously “I want to show it to Dad. I bet he thinks Batman is awesome too!” You blabbed “do you think he will like it, Timmy?”

“I’m sure he will.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

DAMIAN:

Dami was reading in the library when you plonked yourself beside him. Well…kind of. You struggled up onto the couch first.

“What are you doing?” You frowned, trying to read see over his shoulder.

He was reading up on one of Gotham’s villains that was causing havoc in the city. His first instinct was to shut it so you couldn’t read any of it…but then he remembered that you were still only learning to read.

“I’m reading a book on Batman.” He half-lied, setting the book to one side so you could clamber into his lap.

“Ooh I like Batman too.” You nodded.

Damian frowned. You weren’t supposed to know about that yet. “Where did you learn about him?”

“At school.”

Damian relaxed a little.

“He has a super cool cape! And a big car that he drives really fast around the city to stop the bad guys!”

“Sounds dangerous.” Damian smirked.

“Yes…” you trailed off. “But he is allowed to do it because he is Batman.” You decided.

“Is that right? He teased.

“Yes.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

I hope that was okay! I hope you don’t mind that I changed it a little at the end: I didn’t want it to get too repetitive.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao

[kissitbttr]

baby gumi is the absolute cutest and i love him with all my heart but imagine having to bless toji with a beautiful baby girl. i know for a fact that there is nothing in this world that he wouldn’t kill for her. he would be an ultimate girl dad and be completely smitten every time he hears his little baby babble. spoiling her with toys, new clothes, ballerina shoes and the most expensive crib / playpen because she deserves the best. toji wouldn’t even care how many times you have told him that he’s spending too much money on her because he sees nothing wrong with that.

everyday, toji wakes up first thing in the morning before you do. planting a kiss on your forehead before getting up from the bed and head towards her room. he carefully twists the doorknob open just in case she hasn’t awaken yet and peak his head in.

nothing but all smiles painted across toji’s face when he sees his baby already sitting up and adorable eyes glancing at him. shooting him a cute gummy smile along with soft giggles. her bottom bouncing against the soft mattress as she claps both hands, feeling overwhelmed with happiness when she sees her father approaching,

“good morning, pretty girl” toji coos with a grin, scooping her in his arms. “how’s my little alena doing, hm? had a good sleep my sweet princess?” toji presses a light kiss against her soft cheek making her squeal.

alena. it means light. a name that you and toji had discussed prior birth. one that stuck to him and he wanted nothing more than to name that for her.

so whenever someone asks ‘why alena?’ it would be an easy answer because his daughter is the light of his life. the moment he heard her first cry, he was ready to give her everything. to move heaven and earth for her. the same vow he had given you on the day of your marriage.

toji lets out a hearty chuckle before stepping out of her room, chubby fingers wander all over his face and down to his scar. it has become obvious that your daughter somehow had a quite fix on that one. always drawn into it.

“wanna make breakfast for mama with me?” he asks, stepping carefully down to the stairs as she answers with the happiest squeal he has ever heard in a baby, legs swinging back and forth out of excitement once she hears the word ‘mama’

“i know kid, mama makes me happy too”

[inkskinned]

today i was driving to this park where i walk goblin sometimes. nick called me from california. he stopped at starbucks the same time i did, except i live in massachusetts, so we are technically ordering 3 hours apart from each other. we both order the same drink, just to say we split it. it is a tuesday, and i almost cried.

the crossing guard is in all green. neon green, like a sour lime. head to toe. neon green shoes and neon green leggings and a big neon green shirt. neon green glasses and a hat. i guess the crossing vest is more yellow than green, but i'm colorblind, so be nice.

the car in front of me pulls to a stop. a woman jumps out from behind the wheel. for a second, i am worried about the man and if he is safe. sometimes people are mean. (this is an understatement. i live in boston. masshole drivers are actually all running from a felony conviction. i know this because i am one.)

but the woman is in a beautiful pink outfit, like the inside of a seashell. a bathtub pink. her hair is pink too. pink nails and pink pants and a pink blouse and pink jacket. she is laughing, and does a little spin for him. he laughs and spins too, his hands over his head in a round imitation of a ballerina. (i am a ballerina. it does not offend me. i like that his arms become a little heart frame overhead. how cute!)

it is a quick moment, and the woman is back in her car, and i see the driver on the other side of the road laughing, and then i am moving again. i wave at the crossing guard, who is still smiling. he waves back. i tell nick i love people.

today i am wearing a monochrome outfit. just for fun. sometimes you need to do stuff like that, you know? to remind yourself the world is so big. someone out there already loves you. i know this because i am one.

[moondirti]

sorry, this was born out of a need to indulge myself featuring: gaz, ballerina!reader, stalking, intrusive thoughts, delusion, mentioned SA and kidnapping

Kyle first spots you on the Piccadilly line in London's underground.

He's usually wary of public transport – would really rather walk the hour from Knightsbridge to Hammersmith than risk the inevitable unsavoury interaction bound to happen in an overcrowded tube – but it was late at night, he'd just spent his day sitting in a hotel lobby gathering intel for Price, and the idea of ducking down narrow streets in the blistering cold was the last thing he wanted coming to fruition. That's how he ended up in a (thankfully empty) train car anyway; hoodie up and hands stuffed deep into his pockets, thumb brushing over the handle of a switchblade.

He's focused on the shady character stretched across three seats adjacent to him when you happen to prance in. Perhaps prance isn't that accurate an account either, but it's hard to attribute much else to you when you're dressed like a character from one of his sister's childhood storybooks. Angelina ballerina, or something of the sorts – mismatched leg warmers, knitted bolero sleeving a black camisole, basketball shorts over nude-coloured tights, and dance booties that look like little puffer coats for your feet.

The duffel bag slung over your shoulder concerns him briefly – it's hard to look at carryalls the same after serving the military, he finds – but the tired look on your face pacifies any suspicions he might have of your intentions. Wouldn't be wise to execute an offensive when one of your operatives is weary, especially given they're the only agent in sight. Regardless, he's hit with a distinct trepidation that takes a while to name.

You slide past the figure he'd been observing early, hop over Kyle's boots as well, fingers clasped over your behind as if to protect yourself from any wandering hands. The feeling rippling in his chest worsens, yet it's only as you slot yourself onto a far-away seat is he able to recognise it.

You shouldn't be here this late. This isn't the place for you.

With your hair neatly pulled away from your face, he's given full reign to ogle at your darling features. Round cheeks. Hydrated lips. Pretty thing. His molars grind against each other. There are no doubt men on this train that'd want to take advantage of that. Press your mouth open with a thumb on your tongue, rub themselves raw just to see cum decorate your lashes and drip over your brow. Barrack talk, the type of shit he hears floating between his comrades-in-arms when missions drag a little too long. Perversion brought on by desperation.

The intercom dings, and the lady with the soothing voice announces their arrival to Hammersmith. His stop, yet the thought of getting off and abandoning you is enough to keep him stuck to his seat. His stomach upturns as possibilities occur to him like frames in a technicolor film; none pleasant, all ending with you tied up in the trunk of some random van. Some part of him recognises his paranoia, the ridiculousness in his attachment to a perfect stranger (which chides him in a voice eerily similar to Price's, all gruff vowels and whispered consonants), but it does not change the fact that when the doors open to his station, he does not move.

Yeah. He stays on so long as you do – which fortunately is not an extensive length of time. You collect your stuff one stop later, standing to wait at the door once the lady announces Acton Town. He doesn't get up until you're a few seconds out though, slipping through the closing panels of the entryway to follow a few paces behind your heel. Up the escalator and down the block.

The night air nips at his nose, chilling his knuckles so they creak if he curls them. Are your nipples knotted under your layers? Or would they need the help of his fingers to perk up? His throat stiffens. He shakes the thought from his head.

You make a turn. Kyle stops for a second, breathes in, before veering left behind you. Heading towards the west part of town, now. It's a good place to live, all things considered. Still, he wonders if you deadbolt your doors, if you keep yourself safe online. You seem smart, but there are people who won't rest until they get their way. People like the one's he deals with at work – amoral men with biceps that could crush your head. Rotten, horrible men who are only rotten and horrible to cope with the tasks assigned to them. Depraved enemies, depraved friends. Only difference between the two being which flag they fight for.

You throw a look over your shoulder, shoulders shrinking as you wrap your arms tighter across your chest. He looks around, seeking the threat you seem to be so put off by. Nothing but brick-and-mortar storefronts and flattened cigarette butts.

He's compelled by the urge to shush you, to scratch your back as he tells you that there's no need to worry. He'll walk you all the way home. Make sure you get nice and situated, listen for the tell-tale lock of your deadbolt, watch for the dimming of your light. He'll stay until you fall asleep, then walk back to where he came from, take the returning line to Hammersmith – so when he flops back down into his own bed, he'll be reassured by the knowledge that you're safe a mere 4 miles away.

Might take a shower before then, though. Your arse looks great when you're speed-walking like this, pronounced even behind the loose material of your basketball shorts. He hopes the image remains as vivid when he's attending to the heavy mass between his legs later.

Kyle halts right in his tracks.

What is he doing?

You're nearly running now, shrinking away from him at an exponential rate, and duck another corner when you look back to see that he's no longer in pursuit. Completely out of sight.

His Captain’s voice comes to life once more, echoing in the part of his brain he has yet to compartmentalise.

You draw the line wherever you need it, Sergeant.

[cupid-styles]

omg hockey player harry spotting ballerina yn practicing late after hours and sees her land a jump wrong or almost pass out (forgot to eat enough + exhaustion maybe) and harry is all worried and helps her out, maybe drives her home and takes care of her

HEHEHEHEHEH I LOVE THIS

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: none! y/n gets a lil injury but just some good ol' hurt comfort

hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist

main masterlist

patreon

. . .

From: Harry S👿

Do you need a ride home again?

Y/N knows it's a gross habit, but she can't help nibbling on her thumbnail as she reads over Harry's text again. And then again. And then a fourth, and maybe a fifth time.

She doesn't know where he gets off. He gave her a ride home once last week because she was too nervous to walk home in the inches of snow they were getting, and she happened to run into him as hockey practice was ending. Of course hockey-goalie-superstar-Harry has a car. Of course he does, and now he thinks that this is a regular thing that they do — her riding in his passenger's seat as he tinkers with the music, driving no faster than 10 miles per hour on the roads that weren't cleared yet.

Because today it's snowing again. Badly. And Y/N couldn't miss practice, not with the spring showcase (which is laughable, really, because it should be called the shitty mid-winter showcase, but she digresses) coming up quicker than she even realizes. She has a four minute solo piece she needs to perfect before the show happens in three weeks, so she trekked her sorry ass to campus, even if none of her peers showed up (including her instructor).

But she's tired, and she's been here for hours — since 7:30 am on the dot, and it's nearing 3 pm now — and she doesn't want any more of the snacks she prepared for herself and she just wants to go home, where she can soak in a warm bath, put an eye mask on, and dull the throbbing pain that's currently radiating through each and every leg muscle. She wants to lay in her cozy bed, read one of those stupid smut books Lea got her hooked on, and go to sleep for a very, very long time.

So, she takes Harry up on his offer.

Not because she wants to be stuck in the confides of his car with him, where she feels like she's being suffocated by his warm, musky fragrance. Ever since then, every time she passes by someone on campus wearing the same scent (she's not sure if it's a cologne or body wash or what), but she immediately does a double-take, feeling like a dog that's been trained to recognize the smell of its owner. It's ridiculous and stupid and she grumbles to herself about it.

To: Harry S👿

yes please. im in the auditorium today tho, not the dance studio

From: Harry S👿

Oh. That would explain why all the lights are off and no one's in there. I thought maybe you were doing some weird meditation or voodoo thing to kill me.

To: Harry S👿

like a sacrificial ceremony?

From: Harry S👿

Yeah. You WOULD know what that is.

Y/N snorts to herself before taking a swig from her water bottle. Sitting down, she takes a moment to stretch out the achy arches of her feet. She hinges at her hips and slowly creeps her arms outwards to give her lower back some healthy, much-needed relief. Her eyes flutter closed, enjoying the slight release, until she hears the doors squeak open. Quickly, she sits up to see Harry traipsing down the long aisle.

As usual, he's freshly showered and has changed from his hockey practice clothes. For some reason, she finds herself slightly disappointed that he's wearing a beanie and she can't see his hair.

"You ready to go?" he asks, tossing his duffel bag into one of the seats in the front row.

"No. Can I just run through this one more time?"

He nods, but pulls his phone from the front center pocket of his sweatshirt, "Yeah, but it's supposed to get worse soon and I don't want to be stranded here all night."

Y/N hides a shudder as she stands from her seat on the stage. Her pointe shoes are disgusting from the amount of wear they've been getting lately, and she mentally groans at the thought of having to switch out to another pair sometime soon.

"Um..." Y/N places her hands on her hips and faces Harry, who's now sitting in the front row. "You can't be here."

"Sorry?"

She huffs. "You can't watch me. Go outside."

"...Why?"

"Because it's not ready yet," she explains hurriedly. She tries to avoid the confused, slightly amused expression on his face, but she can't help it when her gaze settles on the dimple in his cheek. "So, like, leave. Please."

"Y/N. People watch out hockey practice all the time."

"Hockey is different. Ballet is meant to be perfect. And it's not perfect yet, so you need to go."

"It's practice for a reason. Didn't anyone ever teach you that?"

"No. That's not an option in ballet."

"What is this for, anyway?"

She sighs in frustration and tugs at the hem of her wrap skirt. She feels a bit uncomfortable being the sole focus of his attention, especially when she's up on the stage beneath the studio lights.

"The spring showcase is in three weeks and I have a solo, hence the whole perfection thing."

"Where's your... coach, then?"

"Not a coach, an instructor," Y/N corrects, "And she didn't want to come in today because of the snow. Haven't you ever practiced on your own before?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry nods. "You must be really good if you have a solo."

"Don't change the subject. The sooner you leave, the sooner we can get out of here."

"Just do it, Y/N. My body fuckin' aches from my own practice and I don't want to go back up those stairs. I'll look at my phone the whole time if it makes you feel better."

Again, she lets out a loud sigh but doesn't fight him on it. She walks the length of the stage to grab her phone and restart her music. Before she presses 'play', she stares at him with narrowed eyes.

"Eyes on the phone. Don't even think about looking up here."

He snorts before nodding his head, making a show of opening the Instagram app and dramatically scrolling through it. With a roll of her eyes, she plays the only song she's been listening to for the past few weeks, and gets in her place.

She'll admit, she knows she can get a bit obsessive about memorizing a dance. She aims for perfection each and every time, even if she knows it's unattainable to expect that from herself especially as she's learning it. But with every run she does, her confidence slowly grows — she's nailing the fouettés and en pointes she struggled with a week ago, and she feels herself melting into the music, allowing her body to move perfectly in time with the steps she's learned like her life depends on it.

And then... she croaks.

During the grand adage, she loses her balance, her flexibility falters, and before she realizes it's happening, she's on the floor with a thrumming ankle, pain shooting out from the joint. She gasps loudly and tears immediately begin to flood her line of vision. The song continues on, making her feel sad and pathetic, but especially when Harry appears in her sight, a worried expression on his face.

"Are you okay?" he asks. She quickly tries to sniffle the tears away and nods wordlessly. "No, you're not."

He grabs her phone and pauses the music and her chest somewhat relaxes. He's back over in a moment, gently helping her stretch out her leg without moving her ankle.

"Do you have an injury here? Do I need to call the school medic?"

"Do not call the medic," she mutters through clenched teeth, "Yes, I have an ankle injury. It gets worse with the weather."

"So you already know what I'm about to say then."

She nods but she doesn't want to hear it, because she doesn't want to be kicked while she's down. It's what everyone does — you shouldn't be pushing yourself so hard with an injury, you should know better, don't you care about your craft? She's heard it from her parents, instructors, random medical staff a thousand times over.

And somehow, maybe Harry knows, because he leaves it at that. And she's grateful when she's not on the receiving end of a lecture.

"What do you need?" he asks softly. It's the gentlest she's ever heard him speak, and it makes her swallow tightly. "Ice? Do you have sports wrap?"

"I'm fine. Can you just pack my shit up so we can go?"

Harry stares at her like she's grown a second head. "You can't walk on this right now."

She shrugs.

"We have crutches and all that in the locker room, but you'll bust your ass in the snow," he thinks aloud. She sniffles again, this time involuntarily. "You're gonna hate this."

She knows what he's implying, so she's already shaking her head.

"Y/N, it's the only way you're getting out of here safely."

"I would quite literally rather be trapped in this stupid auditorium all night."

He rolls his eyes. "You're being dramatic."

She shrugs. He treks on with his grand idea.

"I'm gonna go outside and bring my car around. And then, I'm gonna carry you out of here, and it's gonna be humiliating, but it'll be safe and we'll never speak about it again. Do you need me to bring you to urgent care or do you have supplies at home?"

Y/N knows he's right. He knows he's right, otherwise he wouldn't be so insistent on it. But the pain is continual, a pulsating, aching, throbbing that will 100% prevent her from walking, and she just. Wants. To Go. Home.

"I have shit at home," she finally mumbles, sitting up slightly to fix her mussed bun. "Crutches, wrap, pain relief balm."

"Okay, good." Harry's form deflates a bit, almost as if he's relieved she's decided to stop fighting him. "Let's get your things together and then I'll help you out to the front. You can wait there while I bring my car in front."

Admittedly, she's basically dead weight as he hurries around the stage, collecting her things. He stuffs them all in her bag and brings it over to her. Noticing a pair of sweats in her tote, he glances down at her expectedly.

"Do you want these?"

She sighs. It's a sad, defeated sound, and Harry really feels bad for her in the moment.

"We'll never talk about it again," he reminds her. She nods and she unwraps her skirt from her waist, folding it neatly beside her. Harry helps shimmy the sweatpants up her tight-clad legs, carefully minding her ankle and the leg warmers around them. It's a vulnerable position for both of them to be in — they've never been this close before, not with his large palms moving up her muscular legs, even if it's anything but sexual.

When they're ready to go, he instructs her to just stay seated, move her bum to the side of the stage, and he'll do the rest. She supposes she's impressed by his strength when he easily lifts her into his arms, her pink tote bag on one shoulder and his Adidas duffle bag on the other. She wants to roll her eyes when she feels his muscles flex beneath her as they silently exit the auditorium, but she knows he's going above and beyond for her right now. Instead, she shows her small bit of protest by simply crossing her arms over her chest. It makes him smile, but she doesn't notice it.

He gently lowers her to a bench inside and close to the door. He takes their things and wraps his puffer jacket just a bit closer to his form as he mumbles out to stay here, making quick work to head out to the parking lot. She wants to ask him where she could possibly go, but she guesses that if she could walk, she definitely would.

In the meantime, Y/N texts her group chat with her friends to let her know that fell on her ankle, but she's fine. It's embarrassing to admit that Harry of all people is taking care of her and making sure she gets home safely, and their responses make her blush.

do u think he could lift u over his head like in dirty dancing

abs?

are u guys gonna........

does he smell good?

Harry returns when she's typing out a reply to her friends, telling them to keep it in their pants. They go through the routine again and this time it's just a tinge less embarrassing now that they've done it once. As soon as he helps her into the car — which, she's grateful that he's already pumping the heat — she lets out a loud exhale, cutting it off as soon as he winds around the front and gets in the driver's seat.

"You feel okay?" he asks as he shifts gears into drive.

She nods, doing her best to swallow her pride. "Yeah. Thank you."

"Of course," he shrugs as if it's the easiest thing he's done all day. "Are you good to deal with this when you get home?"

"Mhm. Ice, wrap it, keep it elevated."

"Stay off of it and take some ibuprofen, too."

"I know."

"Good," he praises. The drive home is slow and quiet and Y/N keeps the side of her head pressed against the cool window. She wants to fall asleep, and she probably would if she didn't live so close by.

When his car slowly begins to come to a stop outside of her apartment, she feels it — an all-consuming need to blurt out her affection and gratitude to him, even if she's been attempting to suppress it for weeks.

"I would do this for you too." she spews out, her eyes widening in surprise. Harry's eyebrows furrow as he undoes his seatbelt, then hers.

"What?"

"I would do this for you too," she repeats, keeping her eyes set on the snow falling in front of them. "I mean, I wouldn't be able to carry you, but I would do this for you if you needed it. I would drive you home and make sure you were okay. I just want you to know that I'm thankful for this. And I know I'm grumpy with you a lot of the time, but I wouldn't sacrifice you or do some voodoo stuff. I... I like having you around. You're very nice."

She can't force herself to turn and look at him, but she can feel his gaze set on the side of her face. Even worse, from her peripheral vision, she can see the grin growing, like he's in the Grinch.

"Thank you for saying that," he says, and it sounds like he actually means it. "I'm glad you wouldn't sacrifice me, because I like being around you."

"Okay." Y/N nods curtly, as if they've just made some type of business proposition.

It makes Harry laugh. "Okay."

[luvrxbunny]

winter wonderland

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader 

Prompt: Strip Club

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.9k

A/N: uhh idk i kinda feel like i have to have an author's note? Idk what to say tho (not proofread) and um. ily guys <3 

Bucky walks around his club, admiring his dancers- not sexually, never in that way. He admires them for their discipline, strength, and determination, he couldn’t do half the things they do on the pole, all with a smile and trying to look appealing to the hungry gaze of the men in the audience. He makes sure everything is ready for tonight, he just expanded to a new area and this is his grand opening. He hired some new talent, a new bartender, and spared no expense on alcohol, lights, and outfits for his girls.

He walks past the practice room and hears music blaring inside, a slow sultry, rock-esk song. He turns to see a group of girls standing by the window, watching whatever’s happening inside the room. “Psst.” He gets the attention of one of the girls, Fawn. “What’s happening in there?” He keeps his voice low, a hushed whisper to not distract the other girls and Fawn’s face lights up in excitement. “Oh my god, Winter. You haven’t met her?!” Her New York accent is thick with shock. 

He feels a bit embarrassed at her reaction and she’s right, he should’ve met her by now but he’s been too busy. His expansion took him away from being hands-on more than he had accounted for, he had to outsource hiring to Cheetah. He gives her a shrug and prompts her to keep talking. “Well, she’s new to the scene, a cute little thing, nice little schtick she’s got going on.” He nods as she speaks, taking in her little pieces of information. “She- You know what? No. Go meet her! You were there for my audition, the poor girl hasn’t even seen you yet.”

He looks at her with his eyes wide, surprised at how she’s commending him, someone who’s technically her boss. “Okay, Fawn. Tone down the spice.” He scoffs at her with a smirk before opening the door, her cackle-like laugh fading out as he enters the room. Your music takes over his ears, a harsh beat, mechanical type of song. When he looks up you’re nothing like he expected. You have baby pink lingerie on, bunny ears sprouting from your head, soft white cuffs on your wrists and ankles with jewels littering your body. Your eyes are closed, your bottom lip tucked beneath your teeth, your brows furrowed in concentration as you spin, flip your body, and slide down the pole, showing off the little tuft, your bunny tail, at the base of your spine. 

Your eyes are still shut lightly as you flip again, your feet planted on the ground as you walk around the pole slowly. There’s an irresistible arch in your back and you keep your toes pointed as they touch down on the ground. You spin yourself around, a ballerina spin before unhooking your leg and repositioning your hand for a carousel spin, showing yourself off. The song ends and you slowly drop yourself to the ground, sitting pretty with your hands still on the pole while the music dies out. You flop back onto the floor, panting from exertion with a smile on your face and your eyes still closed. 

He just stares at you for a moment, your skin glistening with sweat, your chest heaving, and his dick pressing desperately against the fabric of his pants. 

He never reacts to his dancers like this, it’s always purely appreciative, of their art and the work they put in. He knows the business inside out, he’s seen the struggle his dancers go through to keep their bodies appealing, to master certain moves. He’s never been able to see the arousal of it since seeing the inner workings, it’s like watching a workout video to him. Your dance though, the way you move, your outfit, the stark contrast between your aesthetic and the song, something about it all seemed to be a perfect storm for him. He’s buzzing with want. He wants you. 

You’re still panting on the ground, your breaths beginning to even out some more when he speaks up. “That was impressive.” You shoot up into a seated position, your breaths quickening again in fear. Your eyes land on him and you stand up, covering your body slightly as you back up, standing behind the pole like it could help you, the action brings a soft smile to his face. “Who are you?”

He walks towards you, taking his hands from his pockets and holding them up in surrender. You back up even further and notice the window in the practice room, and how many girls are giggling on the other side. You jump and look back at him frantically- seemingly surprised at how many people had been watching you. “Calm down, honey. I’m Winter, this is my club.” Your back straightens and your hands drop to your sides before settling behind your back and you half bow to him before standing up straight and shaking your head at yourself.”Oh-! Hell- Hi, sir. I- My name is B- well, I go by Bunny.” 

You have a soft, nervous smile and your eyes keep darting to the girls in the window, gawking at the interaction. “Nice to meet you, Bunny. Would you like to come to my office?” You breathe out a sigh of relief and nod at him desperately before rushing to his side, following him out of the practice room and into his office.

He gives you a large coat he had on a rack in the corner of his office with a chuckle before walking around to sit on his side of the desk. “Sorry, I don’t have something nicer for you. I usually have these really nice bath towel type things? But I uh- I left them at my other location so…” He trails off awkwardly and smooths his hands over his desk. He looks up at you and you’re just staring at him with a little amused smirk on your face. “What?”

You giggle at him, leaning forward as you laugh and he tries not to stare at your cleavage. “You’re- You seem awfully nervous for like- a strip club owner.” He actually belly laughs at that, it shoots from his chest, shocking to his own ears when he hears him. His laughs die down before your giggles and his chest warms at the sound, along with his cock as the rest of his blood rushes south. “To be honest, Bunny. I think that’s just you.” You laugh even more at that and it stabs his ego for a moment. 

“I’m the only one who thinks that? I mean- It could be just how I’m seeing the situation but-” He tries not to laugh at your misunderstanding. “No, Bunny.” He cuts you off. “You’re the only one who makes me nervous.” Your rambling stops short, your back straightens again and his jacket begins to fall off your shoulders, exposing a bit more of your outfit. His eyes can’t help but dart down to take the sight in. It stabs him with arousal, he takes a sharp breath and leans back in his chair, spreading his legs to give his cock more room to grow, filling and fattening up for you. 

“M-me? Cus- Is it like- because you- because we haven’t met before or..?” Your eyes dart around the room and your breathing is picking up. He can see your hips wiggling in the seat, either grinding into it or pressing your legs together- his new position takes his view from your lower half. His eyes trail up your body before meeting yours. “That’s not why, sweetheart.” You shake your head lightly with a little breath of disbelief. You have a questioning look in your eyes, like you truly believe that he’s lying or you’re completely misreading the situation. 

“I mean-” You gain a cocky smirk, like you’ve finally figured out what’s really happening. “I’m a stripper, it’s kinda my jo-ob” You have a little tune in your voice, sing-songy, like it’s a joke. His face is straight when you look back up to him, not finding one hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“Actually.” He sits back up in his chair, clasping his hands over his desk and leaning into you. “I find it harder to understand the- the more erotic side of stripping. Your work is artistic to me, I’m generally indifferent to all my dancers but-” His breathing shudders as he recalls your dance. “Something about your-” His mouth gapes as he tries to pinpoint what it is exactly that’s affecting him so much but he can’t think of just one. “You. Something about you is- seems to be affecting me.”

His eyes trail up your body and stop on yours as he finishes his sentence. There’s something so penetrating about his gaze, you can feel yourself heating up under it, a tingle growing between your legs and your panties beginning to dampen. You’re still cautious though, for all you know he could do this with every dancer. “You don’t usually—?” He cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “Never.”

You look him over, taking in his features and deciding whether he’s lying or not. You look in his eyes and they look… truthful. So you lunge for him, crashing his lips into yours, earning a shocked moan from his lips as his large hand comes up to hold your head in place. You lean closer to him, trying to get as close as possible until the desk begins to dig into your ribcage. You separate from him with a moan, a dissatisfied whine falling from his lips until he sees you rushing to his side of the desk, immediately seating yourself in his lap and connecting your lips back to his. 

His hands are on your hips with a groan as he instantly grinds up into you, pressing his hot bulge against your clothed clit. You moan into his mouth, detaching your lips to watch the way his hips move against you, how his hands dig into your hips and grind you onto his cock. His head is thrown back and he’s moaning a bit louder than you would’ve expected, you’re drinking them up. You look back at him and arch your back, leaning to him and changing the angle of your hips over his cock. You kiss at his chin, whining against his bottom lip as he assaults your clit. 

The fabric of the lingerie is creating so much friction against your clit, it feels good until it borders on painful, almost rubbing you raw with the rough material until he sticks his hand through the side of your panties, gathers all your nectar that’s been resting at the entrance of your hole and spread it all over your pussy, bringing that perfect slickness back to your clit and winning himself a moan of “Winter” against his neck. 

He grunts at your outburst and brings his hands back to your hips. “Bucky, sweetheart. Call- shit. Call me, Bucky, baby.” You whine louder into his neck, insanely turned on by the fact that he trusts you with his real name and wants you to moan it for him. You’re too in your head though, mulling over your own thoughts, in the clouds to comply with his wishes. He thinks it’s because he’s not giving you enough so he backs your hips up. 

Your head is buried in his neck and you whine at the loss of movement. You peek your head back to see what he’s doing and watch him fumble with his underwear, jeans already undone and unzipped, his hand now down his pants, jerking himself quickly before pulling it out. Your hips tilt to him subconsciously once his cock is out, red, leaking, and throbbing for you. You can already imagine how deep he’ll go, how sore you’ll be after, and how you won’t be able to think of anything but him while you dance for other men. 

You lunge for his lips again as your hand reaches down for his cock, your fingers overlapping with his as you wrap your hand around his tip, forcing his out of the way as you slide down his shaft. He moans into your lips and brings his hand to the back of your head, holding your face to his lips more aggressively as his hips begin to thrust into your hand rhythmically. You pull back and consider letting him cum like this. The sight is something to behold, his shirt slightly lifted, showing off his happy trail to his unzipped jeans, his cock, big, pink, and pulsing in your hand with his eyes squeezed shut and moans spilling from his lips. You almost let him cum like that. 

But then his thrusts change into a swivel, fucking himself into your hand languid and passionately and you’re suddenly jealous of your fist. So you let go, pull your panties aside, and seat yourself on his cock before he can even process what’s happening. His eyes shoot open with a yelp and one hand comes to grip your hip painfully while the other slams down on the desk before running over his face and through his hair. “D- hmmm.” He breathes out a frustrated breath of air that sounds like a groan. “I’m trying to last for you, Bunny. I don’t do this.” His hand loosely gestures between the two of you.

You’re nodding at him, half understanding what he’s saying but most of your strength is trying to stop your pussy from fluttering around him due to the intense stare he’d holding you with as he reprimands you. You breathe a sigh of relief and immediately start bouncing on his cock once he’s done talking. His eyes roll back and his hands grip your hips, trying to keep them down but not having enough strength to stop the overwhelming pleasure you’re pummeling him with. “Bunny-” He says your name like a warning and his hand tenses over your hip, you would listen if you weren't so far gone. 

His cock has been pressed against your G-Spot since you dropped yourself on him. Your legs are too weak to push yourself off his cock far enough to rearrange him so you’ve just been fucking him into that spot again and again, unable to escape the pleasure. Your eyes are permanently on the ceiling, almost rolled back and your mouth open, letting ruined moans fall from your lips like a siren song. You’re calling to him, begging him with your sounds to take over and thrust himself into you, asking for him to fill your tight pussy. 

His hands tighten over your waist and grind you onto him as his hips begin to jump in his chair, fucking into you with a force that’s making you see stars. “Bucky! Th- there! Don’t stop, Bucky.” You wrap your arms around him and his hand comes to the arch of your back, holding your body against him. “Fuck. What’re you doin’ to me, doll? Gonna make me cum so hard.” His hand slides to your upper back as your head lifts from his neck, your dazed eyes fixated on his lips. “M’gonna cum so hard for you.” His hand pushes you into his lips with a moan, you’re able to catch the way his eyes roll back when your lips meet before yours slip shut. He whines into your lips as his thrusts become weaker, more frantic, and lose their pace. 

You pull away from him to moan into his mouth, unable to contain any sounds as he shoves you over the edge. Your body convulses, folding into his as you become a vice around him, choking his cock and forcing his orgasm to spew from his tip. It tears through him like a hurricane, every muscle tensing, his arms almost crushing you in their embrace as a painful groan shakes out of him and devolves into a whimper as your pussy coaxes more cum from his pulsing cock. 

Your hips are grinding into him mindlessly, overstimulating the both of you as your orgasms die down. Bucky is whining pathetically under you, begging you to stop, slow down, and calm down all with his hands still on your hips. Instead of stopping you though, he’s just resting them there, letting you take whatever you need from him with no resistance. 

Your hips eventually calm down, slowing to a stop over him, resting your head on his shoulder and basking in the silence of the room, in how his hand rubs over your back before pausing to draw random shapes. You’re drifting to sleep in his hold, humming contentedly when he presses kisses to the top of your head.

Someone knocks and opens his door without waiting got an answer. He spins in his chair around to hide your body from view. “What is the point of knocking if you’re not going to wait for an answer?” He speaks to the person in a sharp whisper. “Oh. My. God. I didn’t mean for you to get to know her like this! Jeez, boss.” Fawn. He turns slightly, only enough to see her and so she can see the serious look on his face. “Not a word to anyone.” She rolls her eyes and pulls his door shut with a snort. 

You start to writhe in his lap, groaning, and your brows furrow. He coos at you until you fall back into your deep sleep, a soft smile on his face when you bury your face in his neck and breathe out a soft exhale. He whispers soft words in your ear, rubbing over your skin to keep you warm until showtime. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[pandorxxx]

My Ballerina

Neteyam x omatikayan fem reader (aged up Characters)

Warnings: smut, p in v, neck grabbing, multiple orgasms, creampie, soft-dom Neteyam (whimpering and moaning like the slut he is) , cursing, flexible reader

🔞minors, do not Interact🔞

“Shit!” You shouted in frustration, voice echoing through the forest. You had been stretching for the past 30 minutes, but it wasn’t the same without your partner. She had been gone on a hunting retreat for some time now, and you were in desperate need of her at the moment. She had been gone so long that you were slowly loosing your flexibility.

You had been trying to use the huge rock for help, but it wasn’t working. Most of your stretches required assistance, and there was no one else who would push you to the limit like your friend.

You heard rustling in the trees, snapping your head towards the sound. Out comes none other than Neteyam. He had his bow around his body, hair swinging from side to side with every step. He stopped in his tracks, seeing you visibly frustrated.

“Oh, hey y/n! What are you doing out here?” He asked with a light smile, peering up at you, as you stood on the huge rock in-front of him.

“Stretching for my dance tomorrow. It’s not going that well.” You sighed, bending down to be eye level with him. You sat down, crossing your legs as your head hung in your hands. “Ooohhh yeah! I heard about that!” He said in an excited tone before looking around in confusion.

“Where’s your friend? The one that you always stretch with? Is she still on that hunting retreat?” He asked, resting his arms on the rock, next to your legs.

“Unfortunately. And I need her, you know? Some of these stretches can’t be done without help.” You shook your head in defeat. He sighed, feeling bad that your friend wasn’t here to help you. Then he had a thought.

“I mean, I have time. I just don’t know much about stretching. Or the flexible shit that you do.” He chuckled, earning a giggle from you.

“I don’t want to hold you up. It could take a minute.” You confessed, sliding off of the rock to stand in-front of his towering figure.

“Anything for my favorite little ballerina. Just tell me what I’ve got to do, and I’ll do it.” He smiled, slowly removing his bow from his body, tossing it to the side. You blushed, rocking from side to side.

“Well alright then. Don’t say I didn’t give you a warning.” You joked, pointing at him with narrow eyes. You walked over to the rock again, signaling for him to come closer.

“Just lean against the rock, and follow my lead.” You commanded in your innocent voice. He did what he was told, glaring at you in the process.“Like this?” He asked with a slight smirk.

It was no secret that Neteyam liked you, he always made that known. But it felt like he was trying really hard tonight, and boy was it working. You trailed his hard abs that glistened from the night sky. His hair hanging just right. The band of his loincloth, resting on his hips loosely to reveal his prominent V-line. Fuck, he was so hot, and he knew it too.

“Yeah, just like that.” You licked your bottom lip slightly, meeting his lustful gaze. You walked over to him, before turning around, backing into his chest. He bent down to your ear, placing his large hands on your shoulders. “Now what?” He asked in a low tone, rattling your ear drum just right.

“I’m gonna bend over, and I need you to grab my leg, ok? I’ll tell you the rest when I’m in position.” You spoke, turning slightly to see his face. He nodded, waiting for you to make your next move.

You took a step forward before bending down in-front of him, palms touching the moss beneath you. You kicked your right leg up, and Neteyam grabbed it.

“Ok! As I back up, push my leg higher.” You shouted, backing into him slowly. “Got it, keep coming back.” He commanded, pushing your leg higher, as you backed into him slowly. At this point, you were doing a split across his body, as he held your leg. Your pelvis was flush with his, causing an interesting amount of friction that you tried to ignore. “Damn, you’re doing good y/n. Let me know if I’m hurting you.” He reassured, caressing the back of your leg.

“No I’m fine! I need you to grab my arms, and pull me up now!” You strained reaching you hand behind you to grab his. His eyes widened in concern, but he still grabbed your arm.

“Umm, don’t you think that’s a little much? I mean, look at you. It can’t get more flexible than this, my love.” He chuckled, taking in your position. Your tail waved in-front of his face before wrapping around his neck lightly. He bit his lip, getting aroused by your sensual advances.

“Come on Neteyam! You’ve gotta stretch me out. I’m fine, I swear!” You giggled, using your tail to trail down his chest. He Shook his head with a light chuckle before grabbing your arm, pulling you up slowly. You grunted the whole way, trying to take the pain.

“You ok?” He asked, holding you in place. “Y-yeah, just go slow.” You whined, balling your face up. He nodded, pulling you slower until you were at a 90 degree angle against him.

“Ok, no more. I feel like I’m going to break your little ass.” He spoke in a concerned tone. “Yeah, t-this is enough.” You giggled, throwing your head down as he held you by the folds of your arms.

“Just pull me back, stretch me a little more.” You said calmly, and he obliged. Pushing you back into him repeatedly, stretching your legs just right. He shifted both of your dainty arms into one of his large hands, before holding your leg to his chest with the other one.

“Fuck!” You shouted, really feeling the burn when he held your leg in place. “Shit, am I hurting you?” He asked, stopping his movements. “y-yeah, but that’s the point. Just keep going.” You strained, trying your best to keep your composure. He hesitated, but continued rocking you back and forth, pelvises kissing every time. He was trying his best to be a gentleman, but the friction was becoming to much for him. He closed his eyes, and clenched his jaw, trying to think of something else.

Your silent cries weren’t helping him either. He tried his best to refrain from getting a boner, but it was growing with every meeting to his crotch.He threw his head back, low growls rumbling in his chest.

You could feel him growing against you, making a good amount of friction for you, almost masking the pain of the stretch.

“o-ok, we can move on to something else.” You chuckled nervously, rotating your leg down to the ground. He let out a sigh of relief, gently releasing your arms before you stood up straight. You turned to face him, glancing down at his bulge before meeting his eye contact.

“Um, now you gotta help me stretch my left leg.” You spoke hesitatingly, knowing that this stretch would probably send him over the edge. He shook his head, hunching over to place his hands on his knees.

“Y/n…I don’t think I can do this. I’m trying my best to be a gentleman, but I didn’t think the stretches would be this intimate. And I like you too much, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He confessed, hanging his head low in disappointment. You walked over to him, placing your hand on his cheek.

“Neteyam, I know you’re a gentleman. You can’t control how you feel, and that’s fine. I’m sorry I caused…this.” You spoke in your soft voice, peering into his desperate eyes. As much as you loved to maintain that innocent reputation, Neteyam was making you hot, and you wouldn’t mind helping him with his…big problem.

“I can help you, I-if you’d let me.” You whispered, placing your hand on the band of his loincloth, making him let out a low groan.

“Y/n, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” He spoke lowly, gripping your hand that was caressing his cheek.

“You didn’t ask…” you started, before sliding your hand into his loincloth, gripping his throbbing cock. He let out a moan, slumping over onto your shoulder. “I offered.” You whispered in his ear, jerking his cock, as you held him in your arms.

“Can I untie this for you?” You asked, taking your hand out of his loincloth, bringing it to the tie that held him together.

“p-please?” He whimpered, pushing his throbbing cock against your pelvis. You reached around to his tail, untying the knot before it dropped to the ground. His cock hit his stomach, leaving a sticky line of precum. He hissed at the cool breeze hitting his swollen tip, reaching down to jerk himself off.

“Can you untie mine?” You asked, pulling his hand away from his cock, placing it on your loincloth band. He bit his lip, reaching around to untie your loincloth as he stared into your eyes.

“Are you going to let me put you in any position I want? You know I love how flexible you are.” He tilted his head, essentially begging you to fuck him. Your loincloth dropped to the ground, revealing your bare cunt.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.” You spoke in that soft voice of yours, pulling your leg over his shoulder, pelvis flush with his. He held your leg in his arm, kissing it before gripping his aching cock.

“Thank you, baby. You’re so good to me.” He whined in a needy tone, pressing his cock against your dripping cunt, sliding in slowly. You both let out a series of moans as he thrusted into you slowly, getting the correct rhythm. He slid his hand up to your neck, gripping it firmly as his face balled up in pleasure.

“Y-you ok, my love?” He strained, thrusting into you at a faster pace, grazing your sweet spot with his swollen tip. “Mhm! Just -ngh! Please, don’t stop!” You whimpered, gripping his huge arm tightly as your face twisted in pleasure.

“I won’t, baby. I won’t! You- ugh!- feel so good, y/n.” He moaned, squeezing your neck alittle tighter, and speeding up the pace once more. With every thrust, you let out a high pitched whimper, watching him slide in and out of you.

“Neteyam! Neteyam! Neteyam!” You chanted loudly, feeling your lower abdomen tighten.

“I know, baby. Feels good for you too?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your neck, still gripping it tightly. He gave you one hard thrust, leaving it there as he twitched inside of you.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum Neteyam!” You whined, feeling his tip massage your sweet spot with every roll of his hips. He nodded his head, meeting your desperate gaze.

“Cum on this dick, baby. Make my fucking day! Come on, you can do it!” He praised, placing his forehead on yours. Your eyes widened, jaw dropping to the ground. Neteyam following your lead as he felt you clench around him. You stared into each others eyes, both of you completely silent, jaws slack as the moans got stuck in your throats.

All that could be heard was skin clapping, and the loud squelching noises with every stroke. Your eyes rolled back, shaking in his arms violently as you came undone on him. Each stroke revealing his cream coated cock.

“Shiiiit! Juuust like that baby. Such a beautiful site.” He growled lowly in your ear before throwing his head back, releasing inside of you.

“Yessss!” You whined loudly, feeling his seed seep into your empty womb. He thrusted into you slowly, letting you ride out your high before pulling out of you slowly. He guided your leg back down to the ground before picking you up, taking you over to the rock, laying you on your back.

“Can you open it up? Wide for me, please?” He asked, standing in between your legs as he tapped your sticky cunt with his cock. You nodded frantically, opening your legs wide for him. He bit his lip, mesmerized at your flexibility.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He asked with a slight smirk, tilting his head as he glared at you. He yanked you towards him, pushing your legs behind your head. You tucked your bottom lip in between your teeth as you watched him slide into you slowly. He leaned down to you, shifting your legs onto his shoulders, folding you up completely.

He thrusted into you slowly, sticky pelvises kissing with every meeting, lines of both you and neteyam’s fluids connecting the two of you. He thrusted into you hard and deep, so deep that you could feel him in your stomach. Low growls and loud moans filled the forest.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, baby.” He moaned in your ear, pushing your knees down on the rock. You let out a soft moan, as you felt him go deeper, and deeper, and deeper with each stroke.

“Mmm, keep fucking me juuuust like that, then. Don’t stop, please!” You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his broad back, scratching it up from the pleasure.

“I promise I won’t stop! This pussy is too fucking good to stop.” He growled, leaving wet kisses on your neck before gnawing at it. You balled your face up in pleasure, feeling his cock slide in and out of you with such ease, hitting your sensitive sweet spot with every thrust.

“You’re gonna make me cum again, Neteyam!” You moaned in his ear, tapping his back as a way of warning him.

“s-so am I, fuck fuck fuck!” He groaned, speeding the pace up as he held onto the back of your knees, moaning and whimpering loudly. The fast and hard slams to your sweet spot sent you over the edge.

“Shit! Im fucking cumming!” You screamed, convulsing under him as you came undone for the second time. You held him tightly, as your back bowed to the rock, sending your head all the way back. He slide his arm under your slender back, using it as leverage to fuck you like an animal. Your mouth flew opened, arms flying over your head to hold onto the edge of the rock. His moans were muffled by his head being buried in your chest. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach again, tears welling in your eyes from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. “Neteyam! I-I can’t stop cumming!” You cried, back still bowed to the rock as you hung your head back.

“It’s ok, baby. Cum on this dick again! I’m begging you!” He growled, kissing your chest as he nuzzled his head deeper into your flesh. And just like that, you came undone for the third time. Spazzing in his strong grasp as you screamed his name. “Fuck, baby! I’m so fucking close. Gonna fill you up again.” He moaned, mouth slightly agape as his eye rolled back. His thrusts became sloppier before he shot his second load inside of you, letting out a guttural moan.

“Shiiiit!” He groaned, shaking from his orgasm. You moaned lowly, feeling him thrust into you slowly to ride out his high. You both were breathing hard, trying desperately to calm down.

“Thanks for stretching me out.” You giggled, still trying to catch your breath as he laid in between your legs. He chuckled breathily, sitting up a-little to become face to face with you.

“Tell your friend to stay on that retreat. I’m Your new partner now.”

I was horny, so here y’all go lol. Hope y’all enjoy! Goodnight😉

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @pullandhug @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @lovedbychoi @neteyamlover1213

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: I'm a Mouse, Duh [Yandere TPOF!Ren (Fox) x Reader]

Title: I'm a Mouse, Duh [Yandere TPOF!Ren (Fox) x Reader]

Synopsis: Fox wants you in just the right costume for his party.

For Horrorfest request:

Fox making his darling try on different "sexy" Halloween costumes

Word Count: 1291

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, a bit of humiliation/degradation, descriptions of previous injuries including eye gouging, questionable taste in Halloween costumes

You didn’t know you could feel anything like shame anymore, but there it was, red-hot, covering your cheeks, not unlike a thin, sticky layer of latex that you couldn’t peel off yourself. 

Speaking of--

“Turn around,” Fox murmurs, idly swirling his glass of champagne while you swiftly obey his words. 

You turn ever so slowly, because you know what’s what he wants to see. You imagine you’re a doll in a music box, sans music and static ballerina pose, spinning slowly enough to let him get a look at his newest handiwork. 

The skin-tight latex cat costume does wonders in keeping your movements slow as well, but you try to ignore that part and stay in the music box metaphorical fantasy. 

He sighs lowly--your stomach roils--and shakes his head. 

“No, not quite right.”

He gives you another once-over, and you must be frowning, because he continues in a casually reassuring tone. “Not that you don’t look lovely, but it’s not what I want for tonight.” What he wants, in this case, is unclear. You’ve already tried on 3 different costumes, and he didn’t care for any of them. 

He gestures with his free hand at your hand, and you dutifully remove the latex cat ears (that matched your outfit, of course) and hand them over. 

He sets them on the table and beckons you over.You eagerly scamper over, turning away from him; you really did need help removing the thin layer of latex. At least he does it swiftly, though you feel a veneer of sweat on your back when he begins to peel it away. He continues pulling it down until you lift each of your legs, stepping out of the tight concoction with a visible sigh of relief. 

There’s a warm chuckle behind you, and you shiver when you feel his nails lightly raking down your back. 

When he stands and makes his way over to the long costume rack that one of his employees brought in, you follow. He thumbs through them, humming, pulling a few out now and then.

He pulls out a black and white lacy concoction, something that looks like the type of clothing people world in olden days. A big felt sword hangs off the flimsy top and there’s a large tricorn hat attached to the hanger, and it takes you a moment to realize what the costume is meant to be. 

A pirate.

He smiles, but you don’t. Your empty eye socket suddenly aches and your lip trembles. Which just makes him grin a little.

“Too on the nose, huh?” He taps his finger above your eye patch, a neutral black cloth for now. Fox said he wanted to pick your costume before they went about choosing what prosthetic or patch to give you. 

You suppose he wants you to care that he’s taking the time to find you the right costume, that he wants you to be appreciative that he’s putting so much effort into it. And when you suppose what he wants,  you do your best to fulfill it. That’s how you’ve made it this far.

So you look closer every time you think he might be choosing a costume and you try (pirate mistake notwithstanding) to mimic his reactions. This one is cute, mm-hmm. That one won’t do, nuh-uh. 

Maybe you would be appreciative, maybe even a bit excited about the idea of getting to dress up on Halloween, if you weren’t dreading tonight. You were going to attend a Halloween party with him. Thrown by him. Populated by the guests he chose. 

You weren’t putting on a show (that fear had already been cooingly whisked away, the moment you broke down into seizure-like sobs at the thought) but you would be… on display. 

Like a pet. No, no, that’s not entirely right, is it? You are a pet. You’ve got the collar to prove it. 

What would the people at the party be like? As bad as the ones who watched the show? Worse, because they were there in person and not just through a screen? Maybe some of them would be the same… would any of them recognize you? Would they hurt you? Would Fox let them hurt you? What if--

“Ah! This one!” He says, pulling you out of your heavy thoughts. There’s a glint of excitement in his voice that makes the tension in your stomach ease off. 

When he gets excited like this, it’s a good sign. Usually it’s related to finding out that you like some of the same things as him (you genuinely enjoyed, at least as much as you could, curling up on a sofa and watching anime with him) or you surprising him in a way that pleases him.

Sometimes he seems younger when he gets like this, more carefree. There’s a pang of envy when that happens, but you never let it last too long. 

He pulls out the costume he’s chosen and shoves it into your waiting, slightly trembling, arms. You don’t even have time to really see what he chose. 

“Quick now.” He flashes a muted grin. “The guests will arrive soon enough. Don’t want to be late for your first party.” 

You don’t waste time getting dressed. The end result, when you stand up and let him zip up the back of the costume, is cuter than you expected. It’s a mouse costume, a short little gray number with a black tail hanging off the edge. The costume covers your ass enough that as long as you don’t bend over, you should be fine.

 (You try not to think of ways that Fox might make you bend over in front of others. But then, he didn’t like it much when others were around you, so maybe he didn’t want you to show off more than necessary? The questions are really too difficult to consider for long.)

The finishing touch is a big pair of cutesy gray mouse ears that he tenderly places on your head. It’s the type of costume that you might have worn on a night out with friends, before. Though you’d have worn something else underneath, and you’d definitely still have two eyes. 

Still. It’s better than the tight catsuit. 

And you look... cute. If you ignore the missing eye, and the scars on your face. And the cauterized nail wounds dotting your body. And the cross-cross of scars, old and new, lining your arms and legs.

These are all things you have gradually forced yourself to ignore, so yes, you can put them aside and appreciate the way that the mouse ears frame your face or the way that the costume is made from nice materials.

You can ignore the hungry gaze of Fox standing behind you, keeping his eyes on your own as you stare at your reflection.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, standing behind you and looking at the finished product through your reflection. In the mirror, you see him place a kiss on your neck. Your body recognizes what will happen before your brain does, because your shoulder tenses even before he bites your skin harshly, lapping at the blood he leaves behind. 

“We can leave the patch as-is,” he says. You’re too busy staring at your reflection to answer. Maybe he takes it for being pouty, because he continues.  “Unless you want one of your prosthetics tonight?” 

How nice of him to ask, you think, and your heart feels sick when you realize the thought came without a trace of sarcasm. You’re really fucked up, huh?

You shake your head and give a little smile, looking at him in the mirror.

“No,” you say, voice meeker than you meant it to be. “Whatever you think looks best, sir.” 

He smiles, just a little. An intimate smile, a you’re-being-good smile, the kind you think (you hope) he reserves just for moments like this. And then he places a tender kiss on your bite wound. Bits of red stick to his lips and he licks them away, sighing low and almost husky. 

You know this sound, these gestures, the way his breath quickens and comes out of his nose. You feel two hands grope your ass and you squeak, like the mouse you might as well be. 

“I suppose it won’t hurt if we’re a little late… it is my party after all.”

[sarawritestories]

I Wanna Be Yours Chapter 1

Xaden Riorson X Lydia Aetos

Summary: Lydia Aetos Longs to be a Ballerina, her father has other plans, and has conscripted her to the rider's quadrant with her childhood friend Violet. Reuniting with her brother he only gives her two orders. Do not bring up wanting to dance and stay far away from Xaden Riorson. Both of his orders go ignored.

Content Warning: Violence.

A/N: Here is the first chapter I hope you all Enjoy! 🩰

Word Count: 4.9K

If you want to Read on AO3 click Here

I Wanna Be Yours Masterlist

Ashes. I’m watching my pointe shoes turn into ashes. I can’t help the tears that roll down my face. “Maybe now you will understand that no child of mine will be a performer in a traveling freakshow. My children are riders; they will serve their country with pride.” My Father’s voice grates against my skin as I watch the one thing I treasure most burn my dreams with it. “Come, Lydia, it’s almost time to go.” My legs refuse to move, as the pop of the wood makes me jump.

Hearing Colonel Aetos sigh grates my skin, he’s sending me to my death, with a first-born son like Dain, he didn’t need a second child. Correction he didn’t want one. Yet here I sit to his dismay. His feet move quickly as he places his hand in a vice-like grip around my arm; yanking me from the hearth, I writhe in his grasp as he pulls me away as I see what is left of the pink silk turn black. “That’s enough, Lydia.” He pins me against the wall, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to send a message, “You are going to cross that parapet, and join your brother, you are going to become a rider. Do you understand me?”

I school my face into something soft as if my life isn’t being turned upside down, swallowing the tears. “Yes, Colonel,” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, but my mother’s and my father realizes it too as his complexion pales slightly.

Regaining his composure, “Get dressed, back your rucksack and let’s go we are supposed to be in General Sorrengail’s office in 10 minutes.” I jerk out of his grasp and head to my room, trying to even out my breathing. As miserable as it sounds, I’m glad I will have Violet. The two of us have been inseparable for our entire lives. We are both being forced into the Rider’s quadrant today, at the hands of our parents. I tuck my hand under my mattress and pull out a piece of paper. I sit on the edge of my bed and re-read words I have memorized at this point.

My Dearest Lydia,

My little twinkle toes. I’m so sorry, I had to leave. The life your father leads can feel like a cage. I’m suffocating, little one. I cannot be controlled or maintained like a rabid beast. I’m sorry, I know what this means for you, what your father will make you do when you turn twenty. Just know that not a day goes by when I won’t feel guilty for putting you in that cage to take my place. Just know that I love you and if you get anything from this letter. Don’t stop dancing. Whatever you do, continue dancing through this life. Let dance be your escape from the cruelty Basgiath has to offer. I hope one day we will be reunited, and you will have found a way to break out of the chains that hold you in Navarre.

I love you more than you know,

Mom

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Every time I read the letter of my heartaches; she knew that the father would force me into the Rider’s quadrant. Why couldn’t she take me with her? Couldn’t we both be free? Why couldn’t she have stayed just long enough for me to find a way for me to pursue my dream?  Anger bubbles up in my core, why was she so selfish to fucking leave me here, knowing that I would be sharing the same feelings she had.

Not wanting to keep The Colonel waiting I put on a black, long-sleeved shirt and tightly fitted leather pants from an old riders uniform my father found. I fold the note into a small square and tuck it into my boot, not wanting to risk him finding it. Grabbing my bag, I step out of my room that has been my home for seventeen years of my life and meet my father. As we begin to walk, I shut my eyes and I allow myself one more moment to mourn over the dream I will never be able to fulfill.

Violet and I stare up at the tower familiar with the trek we will have to make to reach the parapet, the first trial we will receive before ever becoming a cadet. Violet takes my hand, “At least we have each other.” 

I give her hand a comforting squeeze as we move up the line. “Name,” The lady calls out not bothering to look up from the parchment. Violet moves to talk to the older gentleman as I heave a sigh.

“Lydia Aetos.”

The woman blinks after scribbling down my name and looks up to meet my eyes and I notice the flinch she gives when she notices that they are two different colors. “Are you related to Colonel Aetos?”

I nod my head, “He is my father.” I see Violet is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, “I turn and look at her. “Have a nice day,” I give her the best smile I can, which in turn might be a grimace as I move to meet my friend.

She is conversing with a taller girl, with dark skin and her hair had been pulled back in small rows of braids. Her brown eyes glimmered with excitement as I came closer. The woman paused and tilted her head at me. “Hello,” I give a small wave, shifting under the weight of her gaze.

“Your eyes.” She begins and my mind starts filling in the gaps with words my father has used in the past.

Ugly.

Disgusting.

Defective.

“Beautiful.” The word shakes me out of my spiral of negativity.

“I’m sorry?” I blinked.

“You’re eyes, they’re beautiful. I have read that some are born with two different colored eyes, but to see the beauty of it in person.” She holds out her hand, “Rhiannon Matthias.”

“Lydia Aetos.” Taking her hand and shaking it a genuine smile creeping up on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m General Melgren, now move. We don’t have all day.” A man’s voice quips behind us. I turn to find piercing blue eyes and a full head of blond hair; he is wearing a scowl that contorts his face into something heinous.  He gives me a playful wink, that makes my stomach churn, “Let’s go, Princess.”

Not bothering to give him a response, I turned back to my friend and new acquaintance. The three of us begin our ascent up the stairs. The smaller man in front of us- Dylan- keeps babbling about how excited he is to be in the Rider’s quadrant. As he and Rhinannon discuss their dreams and goals, I let my mind wander.

Twirling across the stage, each pirouette clean and precise just as Seraphina has taught me. My tulle skirts billowing around me like a shield. I don’t need to remember the next move, the music seeps into my bones and as if in response my body knows what to do next. I grin as the warmth of all the mage lights, illuminating the stage, kisses my skin. Twirling into a solid form, Large tan hands grip my waist as my partner steps in time with the beat.

We move as one as he spins hoisting me up in the air. I am certain my toes are pointed, and my arms are sharp in an elegant pose. I feel myself being lowered and looked at my partners face, familiar hazel eyes and a toothy grin in plain view, twirling me once more to the crescendo of the music and when my twirls end, He dips me low, my one leg stretched out in between his, the other bent my foot tucked behind my knee cap. His forehead presses mind as my arms move around his neck in time with the end notes of the music.  My eyes close as the smell of Cinnamon, Vanilla waft my nose, as the thunderous applause ruptures through the theater. Lips press against mine and I can’t help the giggle that erupts from my throat.

“Lydia.” His warm voice calls for me.

“Lydia. Lydia.”

“Lydia!” Violet shouts giving me a shove, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look to see that Rhiannon and Dylan are giving me looks of concern. I pressed my hand to my cheek to find them wet with tears. Shit. Violet’s eyes held worry and an undertone of understanding. “You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?” She whispers low enough only I can hear, as our hike up the concrete steps was nearing a close as the daylight was beginning to peak through.

“Yeah. I guess I’m missing everyone a little more today.” It’s a severe understatement that I’m making but Violet has her own things to worry about, no need to add more to her plate.

Violet, Dain, and I grew up together, she is basically my sister in all forms of the word. We have been inseparable, even more so when Brennan died and Dain left last year for the Rider’s quadrant, me, and her against the world we always teased. I never felt that more now, she gripped my hand in hers and gives me a squeeze as if she is thinking the same thing. “Thank you for always being there when I need, you Vi.”

Violet snorted, causing Rhinannon to turn and smirk, I look down at her feet briefly and notice the woman has one of Violet’s shoes and Violet in turn has one of her slippers on her feet. When did they do that? Violet’s voice causes me to face her, “You sound like you’re going to die today.”

“I am pretty sure that was the plan.” I murmur as Dylan and Rhiannon reach the top of the stairs. “He wants me dead, Vi.”

“Too bad. You and I. We are not going to die today, Lydia.” Violet was the first to reach the open expanse of the turret. The breath of fresh air is welcome to the stench of sweat and body odor. The warmth of the sun kisses my skin, a large gust of wind whipping my hair across my face. Violet seeing this her eyes widen. “I almost forgot. In my bag there is a little gift from Mira.” I quickly open her bag and pull out a package with my name on it and a little note.

Hey Kid,

A little gift from your favorite sibling. Don’t roll your eyes, you know it’s true!

Just something that can keep that crazy mane of yours up and to remind everyone not to mess with you.

Mira

Unwrapping package to reveal two long gold hair pins, little gold dragons at one end the pointed end sharp as knives. “I love your sister; did you know that?”

Violet laughs as I shut her bag and quickly put my hair in a tight bun. “You and me both.” There is a pause as we make our way closer to beginning. “I’m looking forward to seeing Dain.”

I roll my eyes, about to retort when a man’s voice, “You ready for the next one, Riorson.”

I pause my movements, my hands still in my hair, looking at the broad chest in front of me my eyes trail up and I am met with a set jaw and alluring onyx eyes, and in the light little gold flecks shine through. I roll my shoulders and drop my hands from my hair. His eyes graze my body and back up to my eyes and shiver down my spine. “Aetos, Sorrengail, you two, okay?” Pulling away from the man’s magnetic gaze, I meet Rhiannon’s stare. I dip my chin in silent confirmation.

“Sorrengail and Aetos?” The low rumble of Xaden Riorson voice pulls my attention back to him. This man is the definition of beauty, his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, even with the scar cutting across his brow that drags down to the top of his cheek bone. His tan skin gleams with perspiration from the midday sun no doubt, and I catch a glimpse a tattoo on the side of his neck that disappears with the neckline of his shirt. The clearing of his throat makes me meet his eyes once more. There is a knowing smirk on his face, and he quirks an eyebrow, “Like what you see, Sweetheart?”

I remain silent and avert his stare. “You’re Fen Riorson’s son.” Violet’s voice sounds from behind me.

“You’re General Sorrengail’s Daughter.” He retorts, “Your mother had my father executed.”

I can feel Violet’s anger bubbling behind me. “Your father killed my brother I think that makes us even.”

Xaden snorts, “Hardly.” That perks my head up, to find his eyes were already on me. He tilts his head his eyes assessing me, like I’m a prize mare, “And you. I wasn’t aware that Dain Aetos had a little sister. He never talks about you.”

I bite my lip the only indication I give that his words bother me, “I can’t say. I’m surprised.”

Xaden takes a step forward and try to focus on the floor once more, “Why’s that, Kitten?” A finger hooks under my chin forcing me to meet his gaze and my heart rate quickens, out of fear or sheer arousal, I’m not sure.

One thing I do know: This man is dangerous.  Yet I fall for his beautifully set trap and answer honestly, knowing I should not give him any of my weaknesses, “No one likes talking about the disappointment in the family.” For extra measure I take a step back, away from his touch and he lets me, dropping his hand.

“Hurry it up. Some of us are becoming riders today.” The ass hole from before speaks, his words grating my skin. A distant scream comes from the death trap in front of me. When looking over to the parapet I no longer see Dylan and my heart sinks. Rhiannon is still moving, and Violet begins to walk across dark storm clouds rolling in followed by a rumble of thunder. Fucking. Wonderful.

Xaden chuckles and I meet his stare, “Good luck, Kitten.” He gestures for me to the entry point of the parapet.

I glare at him, flaring my nostrils, “My name is Lydia.”

He smirks, “I think my name suits you better.”

I don’t know how the dagger got in my hand but the minute I throw it, the steel passing about 3 people before it hits its mark. The dagger sinks into the crack of the concrete a half an inch from the jack ass who has been making smart ass comments all morning’s shoes. Looking back at those gold flecked onyx eyes I give him a wink, “I think you’ll find, it doesn’t.”

The guy next Xaden laughed, “Looks like the kitten has claws. I hope you make it, Aetos,” He nods his head and I begin to walk. The drop of rain pelts my skin the moment I take my first step. When I take the next few steps, the sky opens as rain cascades down. I can hear Seraphina’s instructions in my ears.

Arms out, straighten that back. Get into second position.

I straighten my posture and extend my arms out, placing my feet outwardly giving myself the optimal balance and proceed to move. I focus on Violet’s pack in front of me as I keep moving. I imagine myself on stage, the music once again whisking me away. The low rumble of drums meets the contrasting sounds of the piccolo and various string instruments to create a melody that makes my movements lighter. I trust in my training, my balance, the music that for years kept me rooted. The music drowns out the sound of the rain colliding against the brick. My mind transforms the stage into a whimsical forest, and I am balancing on a fallen tree trunk to reach for my lover on the other side. His smile warm as the lights pressing against my skin. I’m not in old leather, I’m in a white gown with billowing layers that makes it easier to move in when I dance.

I twirl my feet finding purchase on the log once I complete the spin with flawless precision. A smile emerges on my face as I gear up for my flip the finishing move, I need to do before reaching the halfway point to him. I run and leap, my legs flipping over my head with the elegance of a gazelle. Landing with a pointed toe and my arms reaching for the sky my balance slips slightly but not enough to keep me from moving toward my goal. To keep me from returning to his arms. I allow myself a glance at his eyes and his face contorts into something unrecognizable, evil.

“I’m coming to get you, Twinkle Toes.” The voice is not his and I blink as the music abruptly stops and the reality, I am in comes crashing forward. The cool kiss of rain rakes a chill down my body. The voice came from behind me. I turn to find the blonde from earlier coming at me with full speed. The person that was behind me in line is blocking him from me and still is a good distance aways. That does not deter the Blonde-haired menace, as he grips the arm of the girl and throws her off. My eyes widen and my instincts overtake my body and I sprint. I focus ahead of me and try to think of music that would be appropriate for this. Something fast paced with horns and fast-paced drums, trying to keep my mind on anything besides the absolute menace behind me.

I can hear his footsteps thudding over the pattering of the rain and I quicken my base trusting in the traction of my boots. I can see the end and Violet reaching it. The is gaining on me and I have enough distance that I pause, briefly and take the risk I prep for my jump and slip. Regaining my balance and looking back to see he is still far enough for me to recover. I get in position once more and take a deep breath.

I will not die today.

I sprint into a run once more and when I have enough distance I take my leap, my feet pointed, my back arched in perfect form even Seraphina wouldn’t have anything to say. When I land the ground is slick and I lose my footing. Fortunately, Violet is there to hold me still. “Lydia! We made it!”

I nod and turn to the cadet with bright red hair, she smirks, “Name.”

“Lydia Aetos.”

“Welcome to the Rider’s Quadrant, Lydia. That was one hell of a performance.”

I walk further down the steps and notice that Violet winces, “Let’s get you taken care of.” I loop her arm in mine before we are both grip in a bone crushing hug.

“We did it!” Rhiannon beams and she looks at me, “You definitely made a name for yourself, what you did on the parapet was amazing.”

“What did I do?”

Violet blinks, “You’re kidding.” Before Violet could elaborate.

“Name.”

“Jack Barlow.” His eyes meet mine and there is a snarl on his face. The look promises one thing. Trouble. Thankfully he stalks in the other direction

“Lydia.” Only one man’s voice makes me groan knowing a lecture is brewing, I turn and see Dain standing there his mouth formed in a tight line, his eyes shift over to the silver haired woman next to me and his face shifts into shock, “Violet?”

Violet smiles, “Hi Dain,” Dain looked to his left then to his right before he grips both Violet’s and mine’s wrist and drags us away from Rhiannon.

“Dain,” I hiss, “She’s hurt take it easy.”

As if on cue Violet begins to dry heave. “Shit.” Dain mutters as he takes her to a bench hidden in an alcove where no one could see. “What the hell are you doing here, Violet?” As he tucks her head between her knees.

“General Sorrengail, refuses to have a scribe in her family. Like someone else we know.”

“Scribe is a respectable job. Dancing is not.” Dain deadpans and I clench my fist. A hand touches my shoulder causing me to jump.  “What the hell were you thinking, Lydia? Dancing on the parapet like that?”

I blink, and clear my throat, “I didn’t realize that is what I did. I was trying to put myself in my happy place. To keep me from over thinking about what I was doing. My instincts went into overdrive.”

“What you did was showboat and it’s going to cause me problems.” He scowls at me, and I get a good look at him at him, he’s grown a beard since I last saw him. But he still has our father’s brown eyes, and his hair cut short and his curls sitting atop his head. “What?”

“I can’t look at my older brother. I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking.” He rolls his eyes and presses me into a hug.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in my hair as he notices the new pins, “Let me guess.”

“Mira.” Violet, Dain and I say at the same time.

Dain smiles, “They suit you.” His small drops, “You must promise to never do what you did again. There are only two rules that I need you to follow, I expect you to follow them. No talking about dance, or dancing and stay away from Xaden Riorson.”

“Noted.” I rolled my eyes, “Glad to see somethings never change.” Dain sighs and moves back to Violet.

I felt a hand gripped my shoulder causing me to jump, “It’s just me.” Rhi’s voice calms me as she gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze, “I wanted to swap shoes back.”

Dain looks between Violet’s shoes and glares at Violet. “Make it snappy.” He glares at Rhiannon, “Who are you?”

Rhiannon looks between me and Violet, “I am their friend.” She slips off Violet’s boot and sighs in reprieve as Violet removes the slipper from her foot and grabs her boot, which Dain helped her put it on.

“I am a squad leader.” He looks over to me and Rhi. “You two go tell the red head recording names that you three are going to be in my squad. I’m going to help Violet and will be right back.” I nod my head and turn on my heal.

“Is that your brother?” Rhi asks.

“Yup.”

“He is something.”

“Tell me about it.” I sigh

We have been placed in our squads. I’m grateful that Violet and I ended up together and not in Xaden’s Wing. Not a fan of the fact that he is one of my superiors. His eyes meet mine and he smirks, those eyes look at me like a predator watching his prey. He whispers to our wingleader and then. “Second Wing Flame Section, you will be moving to Fourth Wing.” My stomach sinks, avoiding the stare of my new wingleader.

“Cadets, move.” Dain commands his jaw sets the only indication that he is upset. We move to where our new wing is standing as the one that is now apart of Second Wing move to where we were just standing.                 

Once everyone settles Xaden begins to speak. I try to zone him out as best as I can, exhaustion is beginning to take over my body. The adrenaline from crossing over the parapet but his voice rings out, “You all feel pretty bad ass don’t you,” Cheers erupt around me and Xaden nods, “Feeling invincible?” I do not feel that way. “You think you’re worthy of a dragon.” More cheers erupted and Xaden crossed his arms. The sound of thunder erupts.

No. Not thunder.

Wings.                                                                                                                                                

As if on Xaden’s cue a horde dragons’ approach, the noise begins to build as a regal blue dagger tail lands on the edge of the wall as if it’s a perch for them. Her claws dig into the brick, pieces crumbling down under her weight. I notice the cadets around me are frozen in fear. A few were shaking and their pants had dark spots that trailed down their legs. Terror racks through my body but I focus on my breathing.

Thump, Thump

The blood curdling scream of another cadet rattles me as a young man from the first wing runs heading back toward the parapet. The dragons all shift as a few more cadets scatter. I blink and feel hands around my waist tugging me down before the dragons unfurl their tongues and fire erupts from all different angles. The hands around me tug me close to the lean chest and I place my own hands around the mystery person’s, their fingers lacing theirs through mine I squeeze my eyes shut as anguish screams fill my ears and will certainly give me nightmares. The fire ceases and the smell of burnt flesh is left in its wake. The figure behind me moves and helps me up. I turn around hoping I would see Dain’s face behind me.

Thump, Thump

Instead, I am met with warm brown eyes and a goofy grin. A man with tan skin, a curly mop of brown hair and handsome face looks back at me, “You, okay?”

I nod my hand, “Thank you…” I lead of.

He holds out his hand, “Ridoc Gamlyn.”

I took his hand, “Lydia Aetos.”

Before Ridoc can comment on my name Dain turns, “Quiet both of you.” Ridoc Mimics him and causes me to giggle as Xaden continues his speech.

“Anyone still feel invincible now?” He questions his brow quirking as his eyes loom over the entire Quadrant, locking onto mine.

Thump, Thump.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. His eyes pin me to the floor incapable of moving. Out of the corner of my eye I see the blue dagger tail moving her head back and forth.  It’s the gasp of the crowd that pulls me from Xaden’s gaze.

Thump, Thump.

 The blues dragon takes a step down and my squad parts to make room for her. Her yellow eyes are looking directly at me as she takes another step forward. Dain’s face paled as he watches on, but its movement to my left that catches my attention. Xaden moves from where he is standing, his face is unreadable. It’s the quaking step of the dragon in front of me and my heart rate quickens as her yellow eyes take me in.

Thump, Thump, Thump

Despite the paralyzing fear, that I may very well die in the next few seconds I take in the creature before me. Her large horns curve on the top of her head. Her scales up close shimmer with various hues of blue and hints of black near the base of her scales, which makes her eyes stand out. Her nostrils flair, it feels like a challenge, as if she is begging for me to turn and run.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I will not die today. I take a glance at where Dain is and spot Violet right beside him, terror on her face. She knows dragons better than I do, though I know enough, she knows my rate of survival is potentially slim here. I close my eyes and try to keep my breathing even. My heart erupting in my ears.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I get down on my knees, my hands remaining at my sides. “What the fuck is she doing?” Jack Barlow’s voice carries over the silence that has fell amongst the court. No one else says a word as I bend forward lowering myself until my forehead touches the cool brick, the small grooves pressed against my skin. I close my eyes and I mentally recite different dance positions in my head trying to ease the fear.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

My breathing begins to even out when I feel the warm steam pressing against my neck. I take the risk and lift my head; the dragon nods her head. Is she giving me the okay to rise? Another dip of her head, and I slowly rise to my feet. As I do I meet her gaze once more, it’s just her and I, the world around us since forgotten. The dragon does something to my surprise, she cranes her neck where the tip of her snout touches the floor. She is bowing to me. The message is clear, a sign of mutual respect.

Thump, Thump.

She raises her head but keeps it low as she cranes her neck out for me. I cannot even see her eyes as she comes near and presses her snout to my chest. The chatter amongst the crowd is indistinguishable. I press my hand to her snout, her scales feel like leather under my touch, a smile forms on my cheeks, fear suddenly turning into elation. “Hello, Beautiful.” My voice was unable to reach above a whisper. She huffs in response and moves back to where she was perched before.

Adrenaline must be widdling from my body fast because I grip Ridoc’s shoulder tightly as my world tilts.

Thump, Thump.

I just survived my first encounter with a dragon.

Chapter 2

Story Tags: @milswrites @eve175 @marvelsmylife @sherayuki @misslady246 @thelov3lybookworm @a-frog-with-a-laptop @randomperson1234sblog @garricks4thwingqueen

[sunnitheapollokid]

SUNNI CAN I REQUEST A LEO X READER TYYYY 💗💗💗

🩰┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。DANCING WITH FIRE ➳♡゛

leo valdez x ballerina!reader blurb <3

📬 sunni’s notes : HI ARTIST!! OF COURSE!! i didn’t know what specific fic you wanted, but i just thought about this (bc i too am a dancer i fucking love dancing but it’s such a pain in the booty my legs and feet always feel like shit after.) AND I JUST FEEL LIKE LEO WITH A DANCER. WOULD BE SO. KENSJSBNA. i just feel like he would be so supportive. also i’m thinking of doing hoo sevens some headcanons and cabin headcanons what do you guys wanna see first?!? okay, lub you!!

(name) groaned, as she massaged the sole’s of her feet. “oh titan..” she mumbled, tucking a lose strand of her hair out of her face and behind her ear.

finishing her last class of the week, she felt the weight lift off her shoulders. “later, (nickname)!” a few of her friends from that class waved, their sportsbag slinged over their shoulders.

“bye girls!!” she beamed. the quiet silence of the mirrored room got to (name)’s head quickly, she took her phone out and plugged it into the speaker. she played any one of her favorite songs.

she stretched and exterted her body to until she felt warmed up, and she twirled, spinned, gracefully. the flows of her tiny silk skirt dancing with her and the wind, with a chasse and a flick of a kick—

“princessa?”

the voice of her boyfriend’s echoed the room, the sweet honey smile of his lighting up the already sunshine filled room.

“amor!” she exclaimed, landing on the flats of her feet and smiling to see him leaning by the door’s frame. “you look,” he snickered, walking over to her to give her a kiss on the back of her hand.

(name) looked messy, at least to her. her hair was frizzy from all the sweat, the warmers of her legs were railing down and nonetheless, her feet felt like hell.

“beautiful.” she affectionately rolled her eyes to give him another kiss on the cheek. leo was wearing the usual white tank, and baggy pants covered in grease, signifying his time at the forge. it was a little funny to people when they found out that (name) and leo had started dating.

(name) was clean, precise, and graceful. like a swan. while leo was messy, spontaneous, and a real klutz sometimes. like a raccoon. but they meshed so well together, it starts to make sense when you truly think about it.

“you can’t be serious babe.” she snickered, leo could just melt at that. “i am deadly serious.” he spun her around like you’d usually do at a ball or gala.

she sighed dreamily as they locked eye contact before leo leaned in to kiss her, a good “mm..” coming out of leo’s lips before bringing up the showcase. “how’s practice?” he asked with a wide grin.

she shook her head with a deep frown, “still.. working on it.” leo mirrored the frown on his girlfriend’s face. “sit down baby.” he spoke softly, you kneeling down to criss-cross and so did he.

he massaged her feet while he hummed, “you’re going to be there right?” she smiled, her eyes glued to his hands rubbing her feet. “course i will!” he laughed, “i’ll be there at the very front being embarassing and yelling out,”

“FUCK YEAH LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND TWIRL— BITCHES!”

she cackled, their voices echoeing the room like a harmony. “gods, don’t do that. you’ll get kicked out before the second act.” the blood from leo’s face diminished. “i’m kidding.” she laughed.

“did i mention how pretty you look?” leo shot, the music still playing in the background — which was absolutely perfect. the way that the sun shone over (name)’s eyes sent leo over the moon. and the way leo’s curls fell on his motoroil-covered face was so perfect, it made (name) melt.

“you did.”

“don’t think so.”

“yeah?”

“well if i didn’t, let me say it, you look so, so, beautiful, cariño.”

(guys just imagine the chorus of unstoppable - camila mora from the “leap!” soundtrack in the background)

and he kissed her forehead another time.

—

(name) stepped into the light with a smile, her beautiful pink costume making her look like a princess. graceful as ever, she gave a courtesy as the crowd cheered. but all she ever looked for was leo.

there in the middle and the front, leo was yelling the loudest of them all, a bouquet of her favorite flowers in his hands. he cupped his hand over his mouth to yell, “(NAME)!! MAMI I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!! YEAH THAT’S MY GIRL!!”

she giggled, lifting her head up to give him numerous flying kisses. leo had pretended to catch them and kissing his palm in the process.

backstage, leo had engulfed her in a hug, the flowers almost destroyed. “d’you hear me?!” he asked with a smile. she nodded, laughing.

“people we’re wondering who said ‘look at my girlfriend twirl bitches!’ in the middle of act two.”

“can’t help that i’m so proud of you princessa.”

they stayed in each other’s arms for a good second, before (name) knocked out in his arms and he had to bring her home.

[blackopals-world]

Toymaker!Yuu: *doing their work*

Dolly: Can I ask you something?

Toymaker!Yuu: Yes, Delilah.

Dolly: Why can't I see Ortho anymore? Even if he promises to be gentle and not damage me.

Toymaker!Yuu: Do you remember that story I told you? The one I read when you were first made? "The Steadfast Tin Soldier"

Dolly: Yes, the one where the one-legged toy soldier fell in love with the one-legged ballerina figurine.

Toymaker!Yuu: Do you remember the end?

Dolly: *sad* He was tossed into the fire by his owner and the ballerina fell in too.

Toymaker!Yuu: Right and do you remember the villain. The Jack In a Box ?

Dolly: Yes, he was so mean to the soldier.

Toymaker!Yuu: But maybe you should think about it from his perspective. He told the Tin Soldier to not look at the ballerina and ultimately that led to his doom. Had the Soldier not gotten distracted he wouldn't have fallen out of the window and had he not been so attached to the ballerina he wouldn't have ended up back at the house and been burned. Perhaps the Jack in a Box had seen many toys like the Soldier and ballerina who were damaged and knew if brought too much attention to themselves they would be destroyed.

Dolly: I don't get it.

Toymaker!Yuu: I'm saying that even if it seems mean I'm doing what I think is best to keep both you and Ortho safe.

Dolly: But I want to see Ortho!

Toymaker!Yuu: *sigh*

[violetpixiedust]

thinking about innocent angelic!reader being a risqué burlesque dancer, and catching the attention of billy. (mdni) (pt. 2) ౨ৎ

the bar is stifling, as cowboys, coal miners, and married men alike fill the wooden walls with cigar smoke and pungent whisky breath, thick and heavy amidst the humid air. jesse’s already pulling billy closer to the front of the stage with his bruised hand clasped along the younger man’s shoulder, knocking past gorging men too drunk to spit out a threat or chance them a second glance.

the tinny music starts up just as the pair find a good view point. billy glances around stoically from beneath the dark brim of his hat as the men around him practically hop out of their wooden seats, cheering and yelling at the empty stage as if the beheading of a rebel were about to occur. it isn’t until you come out that he realizes the validity of their reactions.

your soft hair reflects against the warm amber oil lamps above you. it’s done up in an intricate hairdo, littered with silk bows and pearls, royal. billy let’s his cobalt eyes drag down your angelic figure, eyeing the lacy little corset dress that hugged your waist. complete with spaghetti straps and a minuscule hem that left the petal soft skin of your arms and legs bare, save for your knee length stockings. he felt a white hot light burn within his core, releasing a hushed, but pitiful breath at the sight of your near naked frame prancing around the stage.

your glossy smile was bright, framed with a darker shade along your cupid’s bow, emphasizing to the lone cowboy just how plump your lips were. you seemed excited, happy even, but there was a light behind your eyes that grew dimmer with each foul remark spit your way, each taunt, each coin tossed at your heeled mary janes. you longed to be on the big stage. you wanted to preform for artists, you wanted to be in the pictures-

your set is nearly finished. you twirl, just like a ballerina figurine trapped within the confines of a music box. with every spot of your turns you see a handsome man dressed in deep indigo, holster on his hip, hat tilted, hypnotic eyes watching your every move from behind his glass of whisky. he’s oddly quiet, however his chapped lips are parted, revealing that not even he is immune to your siren song. you can’t take your eyes off of him once you regain your footing, neglecting your big sign off to unravel the baby pink ribbon that previously sat in a bow around your neck. the crowd grows cruder at your actions, but you, unknowing to the bigger picture, only point to the outlaw in two counties that the townsfolk call “billy”. his lips form into a subtle smirk, only widening when his blonde friend pushes him forward teasingly, half finished drink handed off to one of the many drunks in the now jealous crowd.

he trots over to you easily, following the manicured call of your curled pointer finger. you’re stood at the edge of the stage, bent over to meet his eye-line. he’s even prettier up close, you think, with your ever softening doe eyes. sun kissed skin stained with dirt and sweat, complimented by a strong bone structure. brunette locks that curl out from beneath his hat, matching eyelashes that frame his darkening eyes as they gaze at you. you giggle softly, a shy, tinkling sound that has billy fighting back his grin. as quickly as you can, you tie your ribbon around his large wrist. a wave of heat rushes through every avenue of your body as you note the size difference of your hands, leaving you tingly and warm. despite being a burlesque dancer, you weren’t the most experienced- besides one or two men who found themselves in the boarding house a bit ago, but you knew lots of tricks from your burlesque sisters, and you were eager to put them to good use with the handsome stranger in front of you- if he would let you.

billy’s heady gaze drops towards your lips as you place a sticky kiss along the corner of his mouth, just catching the prickle of his stubble. you can feel billy’s breath hitch ever so slightly, as the salty taste of his skin causes your long eyelashes to flutter. “meet me backstage after the show. please?” he all but nods at your pleading, letting his usually rough hand brush a loose lock behind your ear as gently as he could. with a good southern-natured tilt of his hat and rosy cheeks, billy gives you a crooked smile that you couldn’t help but flush at.

“yes, m’am.”

[ghouljams]

Ok but how could u just mention ballet au konig wants to rip her tights. Like I wanna see this. I LOVE THEIR RELATIONSHIP SO MUCH

Genuinely I had to go back and read my own tags how did you find that I hid it so well.

Ballet!König is my favorite creature man, I think of him often and keep forgetting to write for him. Here's some good old fashioned tights ripping for you :)

König's fingers tug at your tights, his teeth biting the sheer material to make a hole before he rips the seam open with a truly satisfying 'rrrrrip'. He stares at the pink leotard under it, his thumbs holding the seam open as he breathes heavily. His eyes dart to yours and he swallows thickly, you blink at him. The embarrassment of having him physically rip your clothes is almost more than you can handle. He presses his face against your mound, breathes you in with a satisfied groan, and licks a stripe up your slit through your dance clothes.

"König, wai-" There's another ripping sound, his fingers curling and pulling against your thigh, putting another hole in your tights. You don't know why it makes you arch, your hands flying to his hair to hold him close as he continues wetting your leotard with his tongue. He moves his hand under your thigh, coaxes you to hitch it over his shoulder only to rip yet another hole in the back of your tights. He's teasing you, letting you feel the slick pressure of his mouth, the heat of his breath, letting you hear his desperation, without actually touching you.

You look to the side, watching yourself in the floor to ceiling mirrors of the practice room. The way your chest rises and falls, the way König hunches over you, the way your skin presses against the ribbons of nylon still hanging on to you, you can even see König's cock straining against his sweats. After hours in the company studio, you'd thought he'd want to practice your pas de duex, not- You whine as he pulls your leotard between his fingers and his teeth and rips.

"Naughty, naughty, Schatz," He tuts, stroking his fingers along your dripping cunt "you really should wear underwear to work." You both know you're not the only ballerina in company to leave the house with one less layer, but that doesn't stop the heat that ripples over your skin at his chastising. His tongue flicks against your clit without the fabric barrier and you moan, feeling the heat of it clench deep in your stomach.

He presses a finger into you as he sucks on your clit, big and thick and reaching further than yours ever could. You buck your hips into his gentle thrusts, desperate, whining. He reaches around your leg to rest his arm against your stomach, holding you down. You're not a weak person by any measure, but neither is he, and the strength he exerts to keep you in place as he licks you is disastrous for your ability to think. The same hands that lift you so carefully, so effortlessly, keeping you still while he pulls back and eases a second finger into your slick cunt.

You whine and whimper for him. Tight heat steadily builds in your stomach as he scissors and thrusts his fingers in tandem with the roll of his tongue. The all too pleasant ache of being stretched is starting to make you sweat, still in all your clothes built for warmth. You can feel your hair starting to come out of its bun from all your wiggling on the floor. "König please," You beg, even knowing your pleas are going to fall on deaf ears.

"One more, don't want to hurt you," König mumbles, taking a moment to bite the untorn tights on your other leg and rip. You can feel your wetness on his lips, on his tongue when he licks your freshly exposed skin. Despite the promise of another finger, he curls the two already inside of you. You bite your lip, try to keep your voice down until he presses against that soft spongy spot and you hum out your pleasure, attempting to arch your back under his iron grip. He coos praises down at you, and those are somehow worse than the chastising. Your cheeks are hot thinking about the dancers that were in this room earlier, the ones that would return tomorrow, what would they think if they knew you were dripping all over the floor from your lead's fingers.

A third finger presses into you, stretching you with a delicious little burn. Full, but not in the way you want to be. Not in the way König knows you'll beg him for. He twists his fingers in and out of your cunt, working your clenching heat open. His eyes never leave your face, even as his tongue laps at your sweet folds. He can never get used to the way you fall apart for him. The way your little whines turn into panting pleas.

He never seems to stretch you out enough to not ache when he pushes his girthy cock into you. Always wants you to feel every inch, every vein, of it as it splits you open. It's no fun if he doesn't see the little spark of pain in your eyes when you raise your leg or drop into the splits. No fun if he can't fold you in half and hear you sob as he fucks into your tight little hole, begging for more from him. Always so greedy his little ballerina. You clench around his cock so nicely, gummy walls dragging against his length, so desperate to hold him inside. God you're gorgeous falling apart for him, legs shaking and head thrown back as you cum on his cock. He never has to slow his thrusts, he knows you can take it, knows you're as desperate for him to cum and fill you up as he is.

Pretty little ballerina. He loves watching his cum drip out of you, staining your already ruined clothes. Watching you dance is a treat, but knowing he'll have you like this afterwards? Well, that makes it all the better.

[tangerinesgirl]

Hi! Can i request vampire Frank smut where he and the reader had been flirting the entire night, and at the end he is a vampire and has killed all the others(including lambert and abigail) and the reader is the only human left, hut since Frank took a liking to her ,he ends up asking him to stay with him and they end up fucking to "satisfy the flirting" plssssss (ur an awesome writer btwww)

Fuck Around, Find Out

**SPOILERS FOR ABIGAIL (2024)**

Reader x Frank (Abigail)

Word count: 1.3k

Rating: 18+, nsfw, explicit

Warnings: flirting, smut, choking, violence, language, technically p in v but no explicit reader body parts mentioned, Frank being feral, rough sex, some hints of enemies to lovers

Notes: tysm for the kind words! 💕 Sammy uses they/them pronouns for reader once, but otherwise reader has no specific gender, so everyone can enjoy this fic! Some use of Y/N.

🦇

You freak out. Everyone freaks out. You've all just put a death sentence on each others heads by kidnapping a freaking vampire. Did Lambert know? How could he do this to us? Lots of thought are going through your head. You snap out of it and see Frank choking and threatening Peter. The whole operation has gone to shit.

Frank drops Peter as he admits defeat. Frank has clearly lost the plot too, you decide you have to be the calm voice in the commotion and maintain composure.

"If you put your hand around my neck, you'll lose it", you snap at Frank, letting him know his actions were completely out of order.

"Oh yeah?", he swaggers over to you, putting the back of his palm on your cheek, stroking it. "And...what about putting my hand around a different body part?"

A click. Frank looks down, your gun pointing directly at his crotch. "I don't know. Try it. Fuck around. Find out."

Frank is clearly impressed, he tries to hide it but you can see the glint in his eyes. You squint as you smile at him sarcastically. He backs away, with his arms held up in surrender. You holster your gun in the dip at the back of your jeans. Frank swipes a hand through his hair, either in exasperation or to try and maintain a calm appearance somehow. As he does so he gives you a subtle wink, and gives each member of the crew a plan to take down the ballerina vampire.

*

Frank, Sammy and Peter essentially tumble down the stairs after their encounter with Abigail. You and Joey look at each other as if to say "we told them so", and start working on the casualties.

You walk over to Frank, "You know this is the second time I've saved your life tonight".

"I wouldn't count a pencil to the hand as a fucking life saving event."

"Hey lead poisoning can be very fatal."

"You know there's not actually any lead in-"

You pull the stake out of his leg in one swift motion, Frank cursing every deity under the sun. You quickly bandage his leg up to use as a tourniquet, it's not great but it'll do for now, at least it's stopped the bleeding. Frank looks at you with gratitude, but is too self-righteous to say anything. You look at him and can't help feeling more attracted to Frank seeing him disheveled like this. You quickly snap out of it and start tending to Peter's wounds.

As you're working, you can't help but see Frank in the reflection of a bookcase looking directly at your ass. You smile to yourself and turn around, "Hey we're supposed to keep grab ass to a minimum, remember?" Frank smiles and looks you up and down, clearly thinking unholy thoughts. Your body shivers as he does, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

Sammy chirps in, "Yeah, they're right. You were fully checking them out, you weren't even subtle dude."

Frank barks at Sammy, "I think the rules have gone out the fucking window now. And maybe you should mind your own fucking business and flirt with Peter some more."

"Sammy is flirting with me?" Peter is dumbfounded, but low-key delighted.

Frank rolls his eyes. You swear if he rolls them anymore tonight, they may as well turn into marbles.

*

You back away from Frank, slipping on Lambert and Abigail's blood, the warmth seeping through your jeans, you try to find purchase with your feet to try and stand up. Frank is clearly relishing in his new found life, this is what he's always wanted afterall. Pure unadulterated power. He feels his new fangs with his teeth, moaning, you feel awkward yet somehow aroused watching him, maybe you should leave and give him a moment. He snaps out of his daydream as you start to stand up. Frank tilts his head, curious, looking at you like a wild animal and smirks. "Like what you see?"

You don't say anything. "Come on Y/N, we had such a good thing going earlier. I can tell what an impression we made on each other...what I made on you."

He grabs your shirt and pulls you closer to him, he takes a deep sniff of you. "I can fucking smell it on you." You recoil as you can smell Frank's blood on his breath, but it's also somehow...hypnotising. Primal. "I mean you've clearly got me going, I've got you going, we have chemistry... We just need to get it out of our system. Don't you agree?"

You think over the events of the night, you can't help but feel somehow more attracted to him? Even if it is totally wrong, after seeing him stab a guy quite literally in the back. But seeing Frank just being given eternal life and the power he's always hungered for... and he's choosing you?

You nod slightly.

"I'm going to need you to use your words."

"Yes sir."

Frank wastes no more time and crashes his lips into you like a man starved. You try to grip on to his face or his hair, but you can't find purchase as the blood makes your hands slip. The metallic taste invades your taste buds as Frank kisses deeper, pushing you against the wall. Frank's hands roam your body, his hands slide down the back of your jeans, grabbing your ass as you grind into him.

You unbutton and remove your jeans and underwear and start to undo Frank's zipper and pull down his pants. You can't help but widen your eyes at the size of him, and he notices, this will only fuel his cockiness even more. His lips smash back into you, he can barely keep himself off you as he moans into the kiss. Frank briefly snaps out of it as he feels your hand on his member, positioning him at your entrance. Frank lifts up your legs to wrap around his waist, and pushes himself into you.

The air escapes your lungs as he thrusts inside you in one push, your back slamming against the wall. The size of him hurts at first, but he fills you up oh so good. Of course Frank is bigger than average, he clearly knows, it's all in his attitude. Frank thrusts into you, moaning every time he does. He puts his hand on the wall behind you to try and push into you deeper, but the wall swallows his hand up, leaving a huge hole in the brickwork. Frank still needs to know the limits of his new vampire strength.

Frank gets agitated and aggressively picks you up, him still inside you. He swipes his arm to remove all the items off a nearby desk and lays you on top of it. He grabs your legs to forcefully move you to the edge of the table as he continues to fuck into you. You can feel the table buckling underneath you. You try to tell Frank when-

The desk collapses on the floor, you still on top of it. Luckily Frank's hands were still underneath you, cushioning most of your fall. Frank doesn't care in the slightest, the only thing that matters in the world right now is fucking you. He continues to pound into you. You swear he growls in your ear at one point. You can feel yourself starting to clench around him as you reach your peak. Frank notices and puts a hand around your neck, squeezing slightly. This is exactly what you needed to send yourself over the edge, you cum around him, hard. Your legs wrapping around his waist, your walls squeezing him tight.

Frank lets out a gutteral moan as he arches his back as he cums inside you. The warm liquid starting to seep out of you. He feels amazing, all of his senses heightened. He comes down from his high and takes himself out of you. He dips two fingers into the pool forming underneath you. He runs his fingers along his fangs and licks them clean. He mumbles an "oh yeah" under his breath. Frank looks at you, spread out on the floor, the room a complete mess. It really is a sight to behold. He bites his lip, "I think I might just keep you".

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hi! Can I get a Damien Priest x reader where he's constantly flirting with the reader in Spanish, but the reader has no idea what he's saying. Finally Dom or Rhea tell reader what he's been saying and then they get together in the end?

damian priest x reader

(just for your information, i studied spanish years ago and now i can’t remember a single word…let me know if i misspelled something)

mi vida, mi amor

“good morning mariposa” damian greeted you when you and rhea walked into the gym.

damian always had this flirting personality, he would flirt with all the women in the world if he could. but with you, he was kinder, it felt like he meant every word he said. he was constantly flirting with you in spanish, knowing you couldn’t understand a word.

“thanks man i’m here too” rhea scoffed.

“hi damian” you smiled at him and greeted him with your soft voice.

you were all training for summerslam. it was a very big event and you wanted to be in your best form. so you asked some friends for a little help and they were pleased to help you.

it wasn’t a secret that most of the wwe stars had a soft spot for you. you were always so kind and patient with anyone, always helping if needed so a lot of your now colleagues grew fond of you.

“you ready to train princesa?” damian came closer to you. he was the one who has been helping you these past weeks and it was the first time you felt this comfortable having someone training you.

he never pushed you too far, always knowing your limits. always making you feel comfortable. and you loved how he threw some bad jokes during training.

“yup” you said happily.

he helped you stretch. it’s not that you needed help with that because before being a wrestler you wanted to be a ballerina so you were very elastic on that side.

but he loved spending time with you.

“okay, we’re gonna start with these” he showed you the weights you were supposed to lift “and then we’re gonna use these ones, is that okay for you mi vida?” he asked softly.

you were enchanted every time he spoke spanish to you.

“yes…” you said shyly.

he helped you though all the exercises, making sure you were being careful, while he kept talking to you in spanish. you had no idea what he was saying to you but you couldn’t help the butterfly in your stomach.

after 40 minutes you were completely tired out. your shoulders and legs were burning and even if you loved the sensation all you wanted to do was laying in bed and sleep.

“okay ten minutes break and then we start again mariposa” he smirked at you.

you laid on the cold gym floor when rhea came and sat next to you.

“i see the way you’re blushing everytime damian speaks spanish to you” she said to you with an evident smirk on her face.

“if only i knew what he’s saying…”

“mariposa? mi vida? he’s basically confessing his love to you y/n” dom joined you on the floor “he’s completely in love with you…”

“what? no he’s not…” you said.

“it’s not that he goes around calling everyone mi vida, he loves you and you have feelings for him too, you guys should just talk about it” dom said to you.

before you could reply, damian called for you to join in him once again.

“c’mon, you can do it” rhea smiled at you “and if he hurts you i can kick his ass!”

you smiled and came back to damian.

“who’s ass is gonna kick rhea?” damian asked you softly.

“yours if you’re gonna hurt me” you shyly said.

“and why’s that?” he said while his hands helped your waist sitting on the bench. you felt hot and all fuzzy when his hands grabbed your hips and guided you over the working machine you hated the most.

“she - she said…well i don’t know if it’s real, but she said that you’re in love with me? she could be wrong i don’t know if…if what she said it’s real” you whispered.

damian loved when you get all flustered. your red cheeks and your shy look.

“who said it’s not real mi amor?” he said with his low voice that made your knees weak.

“what - what?”

he sat next to you, turned your face around so he was looking straight into your eyes. he lifted your chin up and caressed your cheek.

“i’ve been in love with you for a while now…since we’ve met and i can’t stop thinking about you angel, you make the world a much better place just with your presence. you’re so beautiful and i can’t stop looking at you, you got me all around your finger baby. si me dejas demostrarte cuánto te amo, te prometo que no te defraudaré princesa…” he whispered so close to your lips, like as if he was going to kiss you.

“you know i don’t speak spanish…” you laughed a little.

“if you let me show you how much i love you, i promise you that you won’t regret it” he said before his lips gently laid on yours. it was a soft kiss, full of sweetness and love. he wanted to make you feel comfortable and loved.

“i’m in love with you damian…i’ve been for a while, i just - i thought i wasn’t the kind of person you would go after…” you whispered.

“you’re everything i want baby…i love you so much”

you both kissed once again, not even caring if dom and rhea were watching the whole scene.

all you wanted was to find comfort between his arms.