#*fist not first… spellings hard

[pepperpixel]

Some new art of a very very old oc of mine! From like, when I was an 8th grader in middle school to freshman in high school I think, I haven’t thought about this character or the world she’s from in like… years, but my brain suddenly remembered she existed! And so I drew some art of her!

Visually, she’s absolutely mostly the result of my child self sticking Toko Fukawa from Danganronpa and Peacock from Skullgirls in a blender and lettin it fuckin rip. Personality wise she’s a bit different tho… she’s into politics! As in,,, she’s in politics ghgh, she’s like the chief of the surveillance department for the country of (mostly) witches that the story takes place in. And one of the advisors to the head ruler witch,,, she sucks! Hardcore! she’s def a villain lol

[shiftycatstudios]

➢ So, how did you become a Grey Warden?

Same way you did. You drink some blood, you choke on it and pass out. You haven't forgotten already, have you?

➢ If you don't want to answer, then say so.

You're cute when you get all irritable, you know that? You get this little knot right between your--oh, never mind.

➢ Linktree

[armulyn]

Peet the Sock Man! His outfit is based mostly on the hilarious illustration of him fist-fighting a sign post (and losing) in On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. 

[cinnabeat]

what im learning from staring at the double bass section in orchestra videos is that the german bow makes it infinitely easier to switch between pizz and and arco which seems unfair

[strawbeerossi]

Sleepless Nights

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer is awake late at night while you're peacefully asleep. That's when he's reminded about a few little agreements you've had.

Content/Warnings: Course language, brief masturbation (m), consensual somnophilia, fingering (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie.

Word Count: 1.3K

Kinktober Day Seventeen: Somnophilia

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Spencer spent his time at work more often than not, which you understood how important his job was to him. You’d known the inside and out of the job and all the darkness hidden within it, so you always gave an overwhelming amount of love and support. There was a lot of patience and trust placed within one another, your husband knowing that you were always going to be there for him and that he should show he would always be there for you as well. You never expected anything big out of him after cases, just willing to hold him and let him cry into your shoulder if the cases were overwhelming for him. 

It had been three days since Spencer was home from one of his cases, the both of you laying in bed alongside one another as the both of you were looking forward to a good night's sleep. Spencer wasn’t getting much of it though, his head against his pillow while your soft breaths from peaceful sleep filled the room. With an arm behind his head, the male sighed in frustration. Insomnia hit him hard on nights like this one, when you fell asleep first and couldn’t exactly hold him due to you being dead to the world. 

He had contemplated reading, however he knew the light would wake you up and irritate you. He definitely didn’t need a cranky version of you being angry at him for the remainder of the night and even the next day. So, he reverted back to his usual ways of making himself tired. His hands were slowly pulling his half-hard cock out of his boxers as he let his eyes flutter shut. Thankfully for eidetic memory, he could practically watch any past sexual encounter with you in his head like a dirty movie. Right now, he had a specific night in mind. 

You’d been desperate and he was asleep, due to a previous talk of boundaries and consent for certain actions, you decided to try something new. He could remember his eyes slowly blinking open and being met with your face twisted with ecstasy, hands resting against his chest as your desperate and leaking cunt was embracing his cock while your hips were feverishly rutting against his. It showed how much you needed him, even getting to the point where you fucked him as he slept just to not disturb his sleep.

Just the mere thought of your tits in clear view of his gaze had Spencer letting out a low groan. He was fully erect now, his hand fisting at his cock as he let his mind continue replaying the same moments that so graciously flooded his brain. He’d continued with his movements before glancing over at you, the moonlight seeping in from the drapes shining against your sleeping silhouette. It gave him an idea, one that sent another rush of blood to his cock as he was slowing his movements with his hand. Gently tugging the duvet and sheets back, he was looking over your body.

You were wearing a silk lilac nightgown, one of his favorites. It was like you did this on purpose, as if you knew your husband would have an insomnia spell. With his hand coming up to his mouth, he was popping two of his fingers into his mouth as he was scooting towards you more. His free hand was sliding under the tempting nightgown, his hand slowly tugging down your panties as he kept his gaze on you. He wanted to see how long he could drag this out without waking you. After getting the cloth barrier out of his way, Spencer was using one of the slick fingers to slowly push into your cunt. The touch had your sleeping form let out a breath, the long digit being welcomed as your walls were squeezing around it. 

He slowly thrusted his finger, a soft groan leaving his lips as you were responding well, probably having your dream taking a sharp turn as he was fucking you with his pointer finger. Your arousal was starting to coat his finger, the male smirking as he gently pushed in a second finger, a moan now falling out of your lips as you were shifting in place. The way your sleeping face twisted in ecstasy had your husband grinning as he pressed a few kisses along your shoulder. As his fingertips were brushing against the spongy button deep inside of you,your body was reacting accordingly as your thighs clenched around his hand, still assuming this was a dream as you were rocking your hips against his fingers. 

“Poor desperate girl..” Spencer whispered while continuing to prod your needy cunt with the two long digits. Whenever he’d had enough waiting though, he’d carefully pulled his fingers out of your hole before bringing them up to his lips to clean your essence off of them.

There were desperate whines escaping your lips at the feeling of emptiness, your hips attempting to rock back. “Shh, I know.” Spencer murmured in your ear, one hand gently lifting one of your legs, his free hand helping adjust his cock at your leaking hole that was clenching around nothing. As the thick tip of his throbbing cock was slowly pushing into your warmth, you were letting out a breathy moan in your sleeping state, hand instinctively reaching back to grip at the back of your husband’s head as you were both still in the spooning position. 

As your pussy swallowed his cock whole, he was letting his lips press a few kisses against your neck as he was slowly letting his hips rut into yours. Now it only took a few good strokes before you were blinking awake, hand lightly pulling at the curls that you had a handful of. “Good morning to you too.” You whispered, drowsiness in your voice as you were moving to rock your hips back against his.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He murmured against your skin, hand moving to squeeze your hip. “Was jerking off and then i remembered that your sweet pussy would be waiting for me.” He lightly bit down on the flesh of your neck that made a moan fall from your parted lips. “Mm, I’m not complaining. I love being stuffed with your cock.” The filthy words leaving your lips had your husband groaning, head lifting. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” He spoke through pants and whines, his thrusts speeding up as his hand was wrapping around your body, large hand taking one of your tits into his hand before giving a rough squeeze. 

As the rhythmic sound of your skin smacking against one another filled the room along with your combined sounds of pleasure, it hadn’t been long until you could feel Spencer’s hand trail between your legs, finger finding your clit with ease as he massaged the desperate bud. He was close and you were too.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You spoke through moans, his hips thrusting snapping harder into yours as he nodded. “M-me too.” He’d stated the obvious, working to bring you to orgasm first. The feeling of your walls tightly clenching around him was enough to make his cock twitch inside of you before painting your inner walls with ribbons of his cum, hips slowly coming to a stop. 

After he was pulling out of you, he couldn’t help but lift the sheets to look at your cunt, which had been stuffed with his cum to the point where it was leaking down your thighs. “We should get you cleaned up. Plus you have to pee.” He panted, moving to rub your hip while tugging back the sheets for you to get up. “I’m going to take a shower, care to join me?” You’d asked, legs wobbling slightly as you stood from your shared bed. 

You didn’t have to ask him twice, the male sliding out of bed before he was heading over to pick you up with a smile. “Not too long though,” He began, a yawn now falling from his lips.

“I’m ready to pass out.”

[yanluvr]

yan!shigaraki would pathetically fist his cock to pictures and videos he took of you when he believes you didn’t notice him. he follows you to your job, hangouts with your friends, and basically everywhere you go whenever he can; and if he can’t he’ll just sent one of the league members to watch you and report back to him. when shigaraki is playing his dating sims, he imagines the game’s love interest who is complimenting him is you. he only watches pornos if the person is a dom and shares some of the same figures as you.

shigaraki fantasizes about you pulling his hair and calling him names while also praising him and holding him close. he wants your lips to steal his first kiss, your hands and mouth to give him bruises and mark him as yours, and he wants you to have your way with him as you take his virginity.

when shigaraki sneaks inside your bedroom through your suspiciously open window, he goes to still whatever things he thinks you won’t notice are missing until he comes across a piece of paper that was being spot lit by your desk lamp. he walked towards the paper that was written in red ink spelling ‘surprise’. then out of nowhere you jump up from your hiding spot to tackle him onto your bed and put on quirk canceling handcuffs on him (where did you even get those?? he wondered).

you glared down at shigaraki like he was a useless insect, he really shouldn’t be turned on by this, but he is. your nonchalant expression turned sadistic as you watched your pathetic stalker try to blubber out excuses.

“well well well, the infamous leader of the league of villains stealing my clothes like a pathetic stalker. this is too funny. i should just call my many hero friends to take your dirty ass away… but fortunately for you, i pity you. so here’s what’s gonna happen.”

you run your hand down shigaraki’s twitching belly, unzipped the front of his pants, and slipped your fingers into his pre stained boxed to stroke his semi-hard cock into full hardness, all while he was whimpering pitifully and jerking his hips up along the movements of your hand. you watch his face like a hawk, grinning as you watch his expression change to lovesick and pleasure-filled.

“i’m going to give you the best fuck of your life, and in exchange: you’ll take me out on a date. we have a deal, stalker?”

shigaraki let out a shaky breath as he could feel the edge almost reach him, he nod his head and tried to resist kissing you right then and there. “y-yes, i’ll do whatever you want- oh god! f-fuck me, fuck me please!” he pleaded as his hands gripped onto your bedsheets for dear life.

oh you were gonna have so much fun with him.

[sena-seastar]

Heart to Heart

Aemond x Wife Reader

Summary: Aemond spends time with your child so that you can have a much-needed break.

A/N: I'm back with more, Dad!Aemond, because I adore him so much. Aemond deserves someone who will love him as deeply and unconditionally as he loves them, and his baby definitely would. (Also, any dialogue in italics means the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was too lazy to attempt to translate it.) No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

“Daenys, please calm down,” you plead as you try to pacify the wailing girl.

Though your words seem to fall on deaf ears, she continues to scream and flail in your arms. You want nothing more than to join in as tears well in your eyes. You were at your wit's end. Nothing seemed to placate your child. Not even the sweets you had tried to bribe her with. 

The nursemaids had changed her nappy several times. They’ve tried feeding, bathing, offering toys, and even taking her for a walk in the gardens. Yet none of it worked. They brought her to you as a last resort, hoping she might be missing her mother. Unfortunately, their hopes went unfounded.

Daenys continued to thrash in your arms, and you struggled to keep a grip on her. She was surprisingly strong for someone so small. 

“Shh, it’s alright,” you coo, bouncing the fussy girl in your arms. “Are you tired? Shall we take a nap?”

Your questions only incite her fury. Daenys lets out an ear-splitting screech. You groaned, eyes closing in frustration at the situation. 

“How about we give your mother a break, hmm?”

You look up, finding your husband now standing before you. He takes your little girl into his arms, and for the first time in forever, she settles down. She doesn’t squirm and try to get away from him, and her wails turn into low whimpers and quiet hiccups. You watch as he handles her with such ease. Aemond pats her back and talks to her in a soothing voice, gently bouncing her in his arms. Daenys rested her head on his shoulder, her tiny fists held tightly onto his coat.

“I’m terrible at this,” you huffed, shame blooming in your chest. 

“No, you’re not.” Aemond leaned down, pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss to your head. “I’ll take her for a bit. Get some rest.”

You nod, grateful for his help. He waves Daenys’ hand towards you as they leave. You wave back until the pair disappear from your view. You sigh in relief as your body slumps onto the Grecian couch beneath you. You debate whether to continue with your book or take a quick nap.

-

Aemond holds Daenys close to his chest as he maneuvers himself off his saddle. Ser Rickard Thorne stands to the side, wearing his freshly polished armor and pristine white cloak. Aemond nods at him, and the white knight quickly takes Aemond’s horse by the reins, leading the horse away.

The dragon lord looked down, watching Daenys as she toyed with the wooden dragon in her hands. He smiled. The familiar warm fuzzy feeling that filled his entire body every time he laid his eyes on her returned. It was hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent could come from him. But here she was. The two of you had created something- someone so precious. 

A loud grumble sounded in the air. Aemond lifted his head, observing Vhagar. The giant dragon was hard to miss, even from a great distance.

The overgrown grass and twigs squish and cackle beneath his boots as he walked into the open field where the ancient she-dragon resided. Vhagar had outgrown the dragonpit years before he had even claimed her. Vhagar turned her giant head to the side, watching them as they approached. She shut her eyes again when she realized it was just him.

Daenys let out a delighted squeal when her eyes finally landed on the giant dragon. Aemond struggled to hold her as she excitedly kicked her legs and waved her arms. Aemound cursed under his breath as the wooden dragon toy fell to the ground. Oh well, he would retrieve it later.

“What is it, my little dragon?” He asked enthusiastically. “What do you see?”

 Daenys clapped her little hands and babbled, “Vava!”

“Vhagar? Do you see Vhagar?”

She looks up to him and nods her head. Her violet eyes lock onto his, and the two smile at each other. Aemond planted a kiss on the girl’s temple, gaining sweet, girlish giggles in response.

“Very good, my little dragon. It is Vhagar.”

Daenys begins to squirm in his arms and tries to push him away.

“What is it? Do you want down?”

Aemond looks down at the grass, checking for any potential dangers. Your little girl grunts and continues to try to push him away.

Aemond huffs, “Alright, alright.”

His lips curve downward into a slight frown. The two of you had been very proud and excited when Daenys started walking. However, Aemond was a little saddened by the fact that his sweet little girl didn’t want to be in his arms all the time anymore.

His mother had told him that it’s normal for them to want to be more independent when they start walking. The man understood that, but he still did not like it one bit.

Aemond carefully lowers the little girl to her feet. Her chubby little fingers hold onto his hands as she tries to stabilize herself. When she finally stops wobbling, she lets go. Aemond’s heart races in his chest as he watches her take a small, shaky step forward. His hands immediately reach out to grab her, but he stops himself.

Daenys takes another step; this time, she’s a bit more stable. She holds her arms out, trying to balance her weight as she trots forward. Aemond follows closely behind. With each step, he felt a twinge of panic in his chest. The man struggled not to swoop her into his arms every time she stumbled.

Thankfully, they made it to Vhagar rather quickly. Vhagar gave a small huff as Daenys small hands smacked against her snout. 

“Gentle,” Aemond warned sternly, well aware of his dragon's short temper. 

The man kneeled next to her. He took one of Daenys little hands into his own, showing her how to pet Vhagar’s snout carefully. Daenys let out another excited squeal that made Aemond wince. 

“Yes,” he nodded. “It’s very exciting, but we must be quiet.”

Daenys pulled her hand away from his, wanting to try it alone. Vhagar remained still, resting lazily on her chin. Aemond stood back up. He rested his large palm against her warm green scales with a joyous smile. She truly is a sight to behold.

Vhagar was the largest and fiercest dragon in the world. Nothing could stand against her. And yet she decided that he, of all people, was worthy of her. That he deserved the privilege to call himself her rider. No one could question or deny his worth now.

“Vava, pay?”

Aemond looked down, watching as his little girl tried to get the dragon’s attention. Her silver curls fell onto her face. The man reached down, pushing the strands of hair behind her ears. He felt a bit sorry for her. Vhagar was nowhere near as active as Daenys' little hatchling, who resided in the dragon pit. She did not flap her wings or let out any shrieks of excitement like Daenys’ hatchling did when they saw each other.

Daenys tugged on his coat. She turned her head up to look at him. Her brows were drawn together, and her bottom lip protruded further than her top lip. The look on her face tugged at his heartstrings.

“Play? No, Vhagar does not want to play.”

Your little girl does not seem to accept his answer. She turns her attention back to the dragon, gently petting her scales a few more times. Daenys tries calling out to her again, but Vhagar still gives no response. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Aemond initially planned to take her to the dragon pit, but he decided against it. Mostly because he wanted to come out and visit Vhagar. He could seldom go a day without coming to see his winged companion. 

Suddenly, a loud grumble echoed in Vhagar’s throat. The dragon, finally having enough of the child’s affection, raised her head. Daenys, who was balancing herself on Vhagar’s head, fell back, landing on her bottom with a loud oomph.

“Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī,” Aemond commanded as he swiftly took Daenys into his arms.

Vhagar did not move, nor did she make a sound. The ancient dragon merely eyed the two of them. When Aemond felt confident enough that she would not act, he turned his attention to Daenys.

The look on her face is heart-wrenching. Her wide eyes filled with tears, and her trembling lips stretched into a deep frown. Her breath hitched as she tried not to cry. It makes Aemond feel like he wants to cry as well. He pressed a kiss to the child’s temple.

“Don’t cry, my little love. You’ll be alright.” He tried to reassure her.

She blinks, and tears fall from her violet eyes. Sad, quiet whimpers escape from her lips. Tears started to well up in Aemond’s eye, his breath quivered, and a lump formed in his throat. He was never one to cry. It made him feel weak and small, something he despised more than anything. 

But when his little girl was upset like this, he wanted to cry. Sometimes, he still wanted to cry even when she wasn’t upset. There were many times when he would just watch her while she played or slept, and then suddenly, he would be hit with a massive wave of emotions. Aemond wondered if Viserys had ever felt that way when he looked at him or any of his siblings.

Vhagar let out a loud huff. A wave of hot air engulfs Aemond and Daenys. Aemond looks up, observing Vhagar carefully. The green dragon lowers her head, gently nudging her snout against the crying girl. Aemond raises his hand to wipe away Daenys’ tears.

“Look, she’s sorry for making you sad.”

Daenys sniffled and turned to look at Vhagar. The corners of her mouth turned upwards. She giggled as she rested her forehead against Vhagar’s snout. Her little arms did their best to hug the dragon’s giant head. 

Aemond chuckled lightly, raising his hand to give Vhagar a few rewarding pats. His chest was bursting with pride as he watched his favorite girls interact. The only one who was missing was you.

[eph3merall]

. . . ( part 2 )

—

"nah, what the fuck is this— big bad wolf bullshit?" you can hear matt's voice falter for a second, your bare knees digging into the wood floor of his room. he decided to stream for a few hours tonight, both chris and nick away doing their own things.

for the first hour and a half matt just played some games until you got bored and snuck under his desk, his hand cupping your cheek to give it a light warning smack to whatever cheeky ideas that were brewing in your head.

deft hands slowly started tugging his sweatpants down, to which he just hummed and swiveled around gently in his chair for a second. settling back down, matt was leaning forwards a little to put some music on for the stream, shouting out names he was able to catch that were gifting.

he's fixing his headset and turning the music up a little, it's mainly just to hide any groans and sighs he lets out however. for a second, he steals a glance down at you to find you slowly lowering the hem of his boxers, and he responds by subtly lifting his hips.

matt didn't totally like this idea. one little mistake and the whole stream of.. fifteen thousand people would know what was going on, but he couldn't deny how painfully hard he was just by seeing you on your knees—a little cramped under the small space of his desk.

when you free his length to find pre already dribbling from his slit, your thumb reaches up to thumb at his tip and spread the bead of pre made lube down his shaft. you don't miss the way his thighs tense, hips twitching up a little as you listen to the way he scolds the chat for telling him to react to edits and read fanfiction.

one hand rests on his thigh while the other jerks up and down slowly, twisting your wrist up at the top as you lean forward. parting your lips, you let some saliva drip down the length of his dick and don't miss the heavy sigh he lets out.

soon you're hollowing your cheeks out and bobbing your head gently up and down matt's cock—one hand threading through your hair and digging blunt nails into the back of your head. you can't see his face—but you can hear the way his voice trembles once in awhile and how heavy he's breathing.

your nose presses into his skin, dick shoved all the way down your throat and you gag—only forcing matt to ball one of his hands up into a fist to pretened to cough because he was about this close to letting out a groan.

the noisy slurping and gagging noises of your mouth have him panicking for a second before he's quickly turning the volume of the music up, per chat's request and totally not because it put him just a little more at ease.

he keeps a hand casual over his mouth or on his face, pretending to cough or whatever. his other hand is leaving your head—fingers twitching to pull you off just so he can fuck your throat to his heart's content.

so far so good, right? the stream went pretty smoothly until you'd done something with your tongue and he felt his tip hit the back of your throat, and matt's head is tilting back against his gaming chair and a tortured groan is ripped from his lips.

oops?

notes. sorry if this has spelling mistakes / mistakes in general or anything doesn't make sense i am TIREDD... feel kinda insane w how good matt n chris looked on stream tho. anyways where the fuck did 75 followers come from? like? what??? thank u all i love u guys <3 know its not a lot but argghhb + i reached 100+ notes on a post like ugh <33

—

©eph3merall 2024

[hoshigray]

hey love can i request brothers bff cho and how he's just down bad for you 🤍🤍🤍

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg wait, i fucks with this baddd

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - masturbation (m!) - oral (m! receiving) - tit/breast fucking (m! receiving) - cowgirl position - pet names (baby, darling, honey, sweetie) - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - implied that reader is big chested - Choso crushing on you hard, lmao - mention of drool/spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

Choso knew better than to be attracted to you, the sibling of his best friend ever. 

Your brother and Choso have been buddies for a while, meeting during his part-time job at a burger joint as servers and finding out they have so much in common. Being older siblings, lovers of rock music, and relating to so much together, the two often hung out after work and became pretty good friends. Just two people vibing out in each others’ company, and there was nothing to make this relationship complicated!

“Hey, Choso, I’ve told you about my sister before, right?”

You greeted him with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Choso!”

Well, that is until you came and absolutely rocked Choso’s world. 

You were the younger sibling of two; a college senior comes home biweekly to take care of laundry and then drives back up for your education. By your gorgeous face and alluring figure, Choso was struck by your image from the first time his eyes ever laid on you. You were such a kind spirit, always so sweet to him and others surrounding you — you’d want to hang with the boys whenever you had the chance while you were visiting, which was hellish for the brown-haired man. 

You’d laugh along with the jokes, making Choso’s heart skip uncontrollably, and the way you’d lean to him when you’re sleepy watching a movie with them pushed the guy on the verge of shutting down. He could never get tired of how you’d say his name; it came out so dear from your lips as if he could be under your spell at any second. And it didn’t help that you’d walk around the house with shorts on, the lower fringes constantly threatening Choso on whether they’d creep up to see the mere crevice of your ass.

As said before, he knew better than siblings of best friends were off limits. However, you were becoming too much for him. It’s been half a year of seeing you, and there has never been a day or night where you haven’t popped up in his head one way or another, particularly when his mind would think of you in the most…lustful ways.

He throws his head back, reminiscing about you and your outfit from the pub. The way your breasts were tucked in nicely by the window of your bodycon dress, yet the cleavage was too tempting for his eyes not to notice. The dress sculpted your curves dangerously, Choso fighting the urge to put his hand on your hip to feel your clothed skin. And your lipgloss made your lips shine; every time you spoke to him was a test for him not to kiss you right there in front of your brother. It was so cruel how you looked so good for him!

He was spending the night at yours after a night out drinking with you and your brother, using the basement bedroom to sleep. Sleep evades him; however, he uses this space to deal with the erection he’s been dying to indulge in this entire night instead. His teeth pull the bottom of his shirt, dark jeans discarded to the floor, and his hand pumps his shaft that’s freed from his boxer briefs.

He grunts at the memory, teeth grinding while he strokes his long cock. Precum exuding from the urethra slides down to the base and wets his fingers. “Fuuck, Y/n,” your name is said in choked moans, the horny man fisting himself in a faster motion. Brown eyebrows are trenched, and his abdomen begins to flex. Shit, I’m so close, so cl—

“Choso?”

He never in his life froze still in an instant, and his heart goes to a complete stop, too. No way.

“Ca–…May I come in?”

No words are said from either side, so Choso’s heat immediately shifts to icy cold when he hears the door open, and your frame is all he sees. You’re still wearing the beautiful dress, yet your face is molded into an expression of utter anxiousness. Sweat goes down Choso’s forehead, oh fucking shit!

“I came down to see if you were okay and needed anything,” your eyes were downcast to the floor, chewing on your lips during this awkward situation. “But…I heard you say my name and…”

Oh, it was so over for him. All Choso could do was stare at you in dread, entirely shocked that you saw him masturbate at the thought of you! You were fidgeting with your dress, perplexed about how to handle this predicament, too. He was so done for; not only was he thinking of you, the sibling of his best friend, and using said thoughts of you, but now you are aware of how he pictures you in his fucked up head! Yup, he can never walk into this house again. “S–Sorry, Y/n! I’ll just go and—“

“Can I help?”

Again, his body goes rigid mid-stride of getting off the bed after pulling his underwear up. ….What?

“I mean, can I…help you with that?” You meekly walk into the room and close the door behind you. “I am the one who made you like this, so…I’m okay with it if you are…..”

Choso blinks, too alarmed to make any movements. “But, your brother…” You’re quiet for a few seconds before you spook him by taking steps in his direction. He gulps thickly when your figure crawls on the bed, too close for his brain to comprehend. You take his hand with your soft ones and bring his fingers to your lips to kiss, and his breath hitches when you suck and lick his digits. The boner stuffed in his briefs twitches at the sensation of your tongue running against the underside of his middle finger and sucking on it. 

You peer at him, “What about him?” That is what you say before lifting your dress to remove your panties. And just when Choso thought his life was about to be thrown in the gutter, you flipped the script on him again.

In his head, Choso knew he shouldn’t be doing this.

“Mmm…Mmahh! Oh, Choso, you taste so good…”

But in his heart, he couldn’t help but give in to this situation.

You were situated between his legs, ripped him off his briefs for you to suck on his glans freely. Your tinge dances around his cockhead to prompt more come to ooze out of his urethra, and your hand slides up and down to stroke his member. Choso whimpers under your touch, and shivers crawl up his spine as you lick from the base to the tip before sucking hard.

“Fuuck, Y/n,” he grips the sheets, barely containing his hips to buck to your lips. “Your mouth, it’s—Hssshh…!”

“Mmm?” You blink before releasing the tip with a sound. “What about my mouth, Choso baby?” Fuck, the nickname made the pink of his ears creep down to his nape. “You feel good?” He nods at your question, and you giggle before sucking one of his balls, resulting in a sharp gasp from the brown-haired man. “I’m so happy you are…”

Hallow cheeks take in his cock, busying your throat with his length that has you humming blissfully. You massage his waist as you bob your face up and down, and shaky breaths leave his lips while his legs jolt with every swish of your tongue.

“—Shhiiit, oh shit, hnnn,” he can’t do it, you were driving him crazy. “Y/n, you’re gonna make me…Mmmm”

You pick up on his cue, withdrawing your lips from him to maneuver and pull down the top of your dress. Caramel eyes widen at the sight of your breast spilling out, forgetting how to breathe when you bring them to wrap around his long dick. You move them around to please him, taking the tip back into your mouth to slurp his leaking essence that trickles down to your chest. 

“Mmaahh, go ahead, darling,” you place kisses on the tip, Choso looking at nothing but your mounds swallow him with every stroke. It takes mere seconds for his orgasm to sneak up on him, his jizz coming out to fall and trickle down in between the rifts of your tits. “There you go, let it out for me…” the way you looked at him with half-lidded eyes took his breath away, especially with the spit that connects your gloss-shining lips to his spit-and-come coated shaft. 

And when he’s finally inside you? He’s too far gone to even think of being away from you.

“Ohhh, hoooh!! Chosooo, y’u feel soo good!”

Your dress was cast-off entirely, your nude body bouching up and down on Choso, his cock bullying the inside of your cunt. It’s been a solid fifteen minutes shared between the two of you exploring each other’s bodies, and sweaty skin exchanges heat from the constant motions. And come from rounds prior spill from your chasm as you ride on Choso’s dick with a rhythm.

He has his hands on your hips now, using you to keep him steady before he gets too lost in the feeling. Not that it hasn’t happened already; the man moans with every clamp of your walls around him, tightening around him with every graze of your g-spot. You wail for him up top, and your aroused sounds have to be the cutest things he’s ever heard. And the way your tits jump every time you plummet down to the base of him, it’s an image that will haunt him for the rest of his days.

“Tahhh, ughh, Jesus Christ…” He’s too sensitive right now; he just came not too long ago and is now being chased down for another one. “Y/n, sweetie, too fast, slow d—Ahh…!”

You hear him and titter, “Yeah? Want me to slow down, huh…” You bring your hips up excruciatingly slow, listening intently to the shaky sobs from the brunette as you get to the very top. And then you smack yourself down with haste, sharing a yelp at the rushed sensation. You do it again, “Think you’re about to cum again, huh, honey?”

His hands now come to your ass to grope with the flesh, and you twitch around his girth at the hunger. “Yeahhh…”

“You gonna be good and cum for me again, right?” Another snap of your ass crashing down on him. 

“Yess, baby,” he throws his head back to the pillows, his head pounding so hard it could kill him. You can feel him pulsating within your slit. “Almost there…Ohh–ooo..!”

You bite your lip, relishing at the sight of him being desperate for release. You lean forward to him, your breasts meshing with his chest as you snake a hand around the back of his head. You place your lips on his, and he doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate.

The kiss gets hotter when you dial up the speed, tongues swirling and exchanging spit as the friction becomes a lot more pleasurable than before. Choso’s ears ring the deeper you bring him in to kiss, humming on his tongue as you suck on it with harsh rocks on his length from scraping places you couldn’t reach. He’s so fucking addicted to you; his composure long deteriorated the moment he first put his cock inside you.

Choso bucks himself to you in sync, his climax coming in just a few ruts. He howls into you, and you wail along as your hips don’t rest until you’re hit with a crescendo of your own. Contracting your vaginal walls milks him, exerting his load into you again to spill and flow down your sticky frames. 

You two heave and pant in each other’s mouth before the kiss is broken, and the string of saliva is evidence of you being one with the other. Although the both of you are dazed, you smile at him before kissing his nose. “Glad I helped you out, huh?” He chuckles weakly as you lay kisses on his chin.

KNOCK!! KNOCK!!

And just like that, the two of you are frozen yet again. Wait…

Too late, the bedroom door busts open with a bang, and in comes your brother!

“Yooo, Choso, my guy—hic,” your brother stumbles inside the room, still a bit loopy and drunk. “Wanna go up and hit a quick blunt with— ah…”

The heat shared between you and the man below you switched to silent torture, awkwardness suffocating the three figures staring at each other. And this is the exact reason why Choso should’ve known better than to mingle around with you…

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Just Like Dad (1 of 4)

Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff, some humor, brief mention of pregnancy, canon-typical swearing, Simon is a girl dad

Word Count: 890

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Filling out a parent questionnaire leads to Simon having to answer a hard question.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad

“Daddy.”

 A small fist curls around the bottom of Simon’s shirt, tugging. He glances down, finding his daughter there holding out a piece of paper.

“What’s this?” Simon takes it from her, his gaze shifting to the black ink.

“It’s for school.”

It’s a questionnaire. Simons scans over the questions quickly before returning his gaze to his daughter. “Give me a second, love.”

Simon packs up the files he brought home from work. Grabbing a pencil, he strolls out to the living room, his daughter on his heels. Simon takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, placing the paper and pencil on the coffee table. His daughter snags a pillow off the couch, dropping it on the floor next to his legs. Sitting, she stares at him expectantly.

Simon nods toward the paper. “You need to practice your letters.”

She groans. “But it’s about you!”

Simon slowly slides the paper and pencil over to her. She pouts but takes up the pencil, the graphite tip poised above the first line.

“Name,” she says, glancing up at him.

“You know my name.”

She squints at him and looks back at the paper, taking her time to write each letter. She holds it up and Simon smiles. It’s stilted and a bit sideways, but it’s there. She asks several more questions like favorite food and color. Simon doesn’t understand the point to it but they’re likely doing a project on a parent.

“Job,” she says, expectant.

Job. His occupation. That’s a fucking complicated question.

“Military,” he answers.

She frowns. “How do you spell that?”

“Sound it out.”

She does so slowly, elongating each letter as she writes.

Simon glances over her shoulder and chuckles. “That’s an ‘i,’ darling.” He points and she aggressively erases her mistake.

When she finishes, she looks up at him. “Explain.”

Explain. Explain.

Explain…what?

That he kills people? That he negotiates the release of hostages? That he faces violence every day he’s on the job? That he sees some of the worst in people?

How the bloody hell does he explain all that to a six-year-old girl? How does he summarize the violence into a watered-down version that’s digestible enough for her, her teacher, the other students, and her school.

Simon swallows. “I stop bad people from doing bad things.”

She blinks. “Do I have to write all that?”

Simon barks a laugh. “It’s one sentence.”

She silently mimics him, shaking her little body in annoyance as she begins to write. Simon has no idea where the attitude comes from, but it’s likely from Johnny.

“Next question,” prompts Simon once the sentence is written down.

She hesitates and then turns in his direction. “Can I be like you when I grow up?”

Could she? Yes. But the very idea of her in the line of danger frightens him. It twists his stomach, knowing all the things that could befall her if she were to follow in his footsteps. Simon’s gut-instinct is to tell her “No.”

“Why do you want to be like me?” he asks.

She shrugs. “You’re strong. I want to be strong like you.”

“You don’t need to do what I do to be strong.”

“Uh, no,” she says, matter-of-fact, peering at the next question.

Fucking hell, she’s going to be an absolute hellion when she hits puberty. Sighing, Simon rubs at his temple. For some reason, he glances away from his daughter, his gaze landing on you in the hallway. With your hand cradling your slightly swollen belly, you watch on with an amused expression.

Number two. Will this one be like her? Wanting to do what he does?

“Daddy.”

Simon turns back to his daughter. She points at the paper with the tip of her pencil, head tilted slightly to the side.

He leans forward. “What’s the next question?”

“What does your day look like?” She grins up at him, ready for his answer.

Simon hears your soft laugh from the hall, and then your footsteps across the carpet. Your hand reaches out to cradle the back of Simon’s neck. On instinct, he lifts his arm, resting his hand on the small of your back.

“Go on, Simon. Tell her,” you tease, knowing that he’s struggling to form an answer.

“Do you put your mask on first?” The question is innocent but Simon laughs anyway.

“No,” he chuckles, gently taking the paper and pencil from her. “I kiss your mother first.”

Simon drags you in for a kiss.

“Ugh. Gross.” She makes a face, tiny nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Still want my job?” Simon presents the paper and she snatches up in her little fist.

“No thanks,” she sing-songs, stuffing the paper in her backpack, crinkling it up.

You hide your grin in Simon’s shoulder, and Simon tugs you closer. “Good save,” you murmur.

Simon presses his lips to the top of your head. “She has one of my masks.”

“I know,” you giggle. “Found it under her pillow this morning. I put it in your bag.”

“Was it covered in your makeup this time?”

“Had to wash it.”

Simon shakes his head in exasperation. He’s not annoyed. Just perplexed. He doesn’t understand why his daughter wants to be just like him.

It’s because she doesn’t know.

No. She doesn’t know. But one day she will. She might even change her mind.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @cinnabeanz @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[ellecdc]

Hiiiiii! I love your work sm!

I was wondering you would please be able to write something where the reader has a lot of restless energy and only feels calm around James?

It could be just James any pairing with James that you feel like! Thank you so much for filling the world with your beautiful stories! <3

soooooo I asked Liz first before I did this, but I've changed the pairing a bit in hopes that it would help combat my writers block - it's taken me longer to complete but I hope I've done the request justice even if it's not with our sweet Jamie <3 <3

Sirius Black x Potter!reader who feels like she's too much

CW: a little bit of misogyny/internalized misogyny, hyperactivity/trouble focusing

You’d recited the eleventh step of brewing the felix felicis potion silently in your head when you realised you were being called upon in class. 

“Miss. Potter.” Professor McGonagall called out, causing your head to snap to attention from where you’d been gazing out the window. “Are the birds outside more interesting than my lecture of Transfiguration?”

Yes.

“No, Professor.” You answered quickly as a few students around you snickered.

“Then I should expect your attention to be at the front of the class, Miss. Potter.”

“Yes, Professor.” You mumbled quietly as you sank into your chair, pinning your gaze to the board in front of you as you zoned out.

It wasn’t McGonagall’s fault; but Transfiguration was boring, at least to you.

Discussing the ‘intricate spell work and wand movements’ required to transfigure a button into a butterfly was childs play when one was already an animagus. You could probably [and may very well] produce butterflies in your sleep.

But she didn’t know that, she couldn’t know that.

So now, your knee was bouncing underneath your desk and your brain wasn’t fairing much better.

Sitting here and listening to McGonagall drone on about stuff you already knew couldn’t hold your attention, and it wasn’t long before you were eavesdropping on the two Ravenclaws gossiping behind you.

“I thought she was seeing the older Black?”

“She is, but that’s what he said!”

“I think he’s lying.”

“Honestly, I don’t believe 75% of the things to come out of Lockharts mouth.” 

Oh yeah, there had been a rumour that you had 'snogged Gilderoy Lockhart’ in a broom closet last week. 

You and Sirius had laughed and laughed about that. 

James didn’t find it nearly as funny though and charmed Gilderoy’s hair Gryffindor red for 48 hours. 

That was pretty intricate charm work now that you were thinking about it - you’ll have to ask your brother to teach it to you.

Perhaps some of the wand work would look similar to Transfiguration spells so McGonagall wouldn’t know you’re not paying attention.

Shit. You weren’t paying attention. 

You moved your eyes back to McGonagall who was still droning on about…well, Transfiguration, likely, though she had her eyes trained on you.

Dammit. You’d been caught. 

Your brain had been working in overdrive to keep your eyes glued to the professor that by the time class had ended, you realised you had been clenching your fists so hard that you’d created crescent shape indents in the palm of your hands. 

“Miss. Potter, a word?”

Oh, Godric. 

You heard a few classmates snicker again as you moved towards the professor with your tail tucked between your legs.

“It appears I had a difficult time capturing your attention today?” She asked; eyes and tone holding her same intensity, but a small uptilt in the corner of her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I assure you it’s not you; I just-”

“You’re a bright girl, Y/N, and I am quite aware that this level of Transfiguration may very well be below your level of capabilities, but I cannot allow you to set a precedent for daydreaming in my class. I have a reputation to uphold, afterall.”

“Yes, Professor.” You agreed readily. 

“Just try to daydream less obviously, okay Miss. Potter?” She offered you gently with a soft smirk. 

“Of course, Professor. I’m sorry, thank you.” You sputtered before you were rushing out of the room with what felt like a furious blush at being so clearly transparent in your restlessness.

Professor McGonagall was being patient with you but you doubted she understood you at all; you doubted she’d ever been anything but the dutiful, attentive witch that she is today. Her knee probably ever bounced under the table, her nail beds were probably never shredded, she probably never had to be called on in class because her mind was so clearly elsewhere. 

A sense of shame surged through you at that; you weren’t doing enough yet you were still too much. 

You knew James had a similar experience to you but it was different for him.

It was different because he was the enthusiastic, charismatic Gryffindor quidditch captain who exuded joy and excitement.

It was different because boys were supposed to be energetic and boisterous. 

“You need to sit still, behta’; this is not lady like.” Your auntie had scolded you as you and James raced around cousin Aparna’s wedding ceremony. 

You had been having fun - both you and James - before then. Neither of you understood why the fun had to stop, least of all why it was okay for James but not for you.

It set a precedent. 

It coloured every area of your life growing up; laugh, but not as loudly as James. Joke, but not as often as James. Shine, but not as bright as James.

And despite all of that, you never blamed him; he never discouraged you from being anyone but yourself. 

You loved that about James, though, he seemed to have enough love for everybody, even if they had a hard time loving themselves. 

You wish you could be more like that.

Be more like James, but not as much as James.

Fuck, this was exhausting. 

You hadn’t realised how fast your mind had been racing until you were standing outside of the boys dormitory in Gryffindor tower chewing aggressively on your lips as you picked away the skin of your nail beds. 

You shouldn’t bother them; you were too much.

Too much, too much, too much. 

They already had James to deal with; James was enough.

He was a lot, but not like you.

He was a lot, but never too much. 

And he was there first; he was their friend first.

And maybe Sirius was having a good day? Maybe he’d been having a good day and then you’d be showing up and ruining it.

Ruining it by being too much.

No, you shouldn’t be here. Perhaps you should leave.

But you couldn’t bring your legs to move fast enough before the door was being yanked open and Peter nearly crashed into you. 

“Whoa, Y/N. I’m sorry! Merlin, you scared me.” 

“I’m sorry, Pete.” You offered quickly. “I was just leaving.”

“Oh, hey bug!” James called from the room, leaning over on his bed so he could see you around Peter’s frame. 

“Hey Jamie.” You called quietly, acquiescing to Peter’s extended arm as he invited you into the room. 

Sirius sat up at the sound of your arrival, putting his book beside him on his bed while he smiled at you.

His smile faltered a tad when he saw the state of you, however.

You shouldn’t be here.

“Hey gorgeous.” Sirius offered softly. “How was your day?”

You looked over at Remus who was looking at you sympathetically, and James who was looking at you worriedly. 

“It was okay, how about yours?”

“Better now that you’re here.” He responded salaciously, offering you a wink when you visibly flushed at the attention.

“Prongs, why don’t we go see what Lily’s up to?” Remus offered pointedly, standing to gather his homework and nudging James in the side. 

“Great idea! I’ve been wanting to try out this new charm I learned that turns everything around us the colour of her hair. It’s so gorgeous - her hair, that is - don’t you think? I’ve never seen anything like it, Moony. I want everything I own to be that same shade of auburn. Would I look good wearing auburn? You know what, don’t answer that; I don’t want to know. I was also thinking-” James’ voice trailed off as Remus and Peter shared a knowing look behind James’ back and followed him out the dormitory door before closing it behind them.

You turned back to see Sirius looking at you intently; his expression so soft that you weren’t sure any of his friends had seen the likes of it before.

“Can I have a hug?” Sirius asked, opening his arms in invitation which you readily accepted.

You had barely dropped your book bag before you were all but cradled in Sirius’ arms; the tension immediately oozing out of your bones as you melted into him. 

“Was today a Too Much day?” He asked as he pushed some hairs away from your face before moving his thumb to pull your bottom lip out from between your teeth.

“I was Too Much today.” You corrected, immediately embarrassed at the stinging in your eyes and sinuses.

Sirius quickly tsked in disapproval as he placed his free hand between your hands; his other which was supporting your weight sitting on your elbow as his thumb rubbed circles against your joint. “You’re never too much, my love.” 

You let out a heavy sigh as you turned your face towards his chest, bringing his hand up towards your mouth as you fiddled with the various rings on his finger.

“You know that, right?” He asked at your silence, pressing a gentle ‘boop’ with his finger to your chin. “You know you’re not too much?”

“I was too much in Transfiguration. I was too much for McGonagall.” 

“Did she say that to you?”

“It appears I had a difficult time capturing your attention today?” “I cannot allow you to set a precedent for daydreaming in my class. I have a reputation to uphold, afterall.” “Just try to daydream less obviously, okay Miss. Potter?”

“No…” You admitted quietly, brushing the pads of Sirius’ fingers against your lips as you thought back to class. 

“No.” Sirius agreed; knowing that had been true before he’d even asked. “Because if there was anyone who was Too Much for McGonagall, it’d be me.” 

You chuckled then, finally bringing your eyes to meet Sirius’ striking grey one’s as he looked down at you. 

“You’re not too much, baby; you’re perfect.”

“You’re perfect.” You countered.

“You’re a liar.”

You shook your head as you removed one of your hands from Sirius’ to place it on his jaw, relishing in the contented sigh that escaped his lips as he leaned into your touch.

“Perfect.” You reiterated.

He smiled and looked to be fighting against an eye roll before leaning down to press a kiss to your hairline. 

“We’re perfect for each other, yeah?” He conceded.

“Yeah.” You agreed readily.

“And girlfriend or not, I will fight you for the title of McGonagall’s Too Much, got it? I’ve put years of blood, sweat, and tears into that honour and I will not let you take that from me.”

You let out a boisterous laugh as you took a deep stretch, feeling the last tendrils of tension seep from your body before turning back towards Sirius. “Fine, but I want to keep the title of Flitwick’s Too Much.”

“Deal.”

“Great.” You smiled.

“Perfect.” Sirius whispered.

Yes… yes he was.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Male Yandere Human-like Golem x Gender Neutral Human Reader (CW: Noncon, huge dick, golem man, magic, fatal violence towards bandits, spit used as lube, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.8k (Sorry this took forever, was originally going to be a drabble and then kinda got away from me, hope you all enjoy huge dick golem man.)

The small town that you lived in, Somnheim, had been victim to a swathe of horrible luck. Raided by bandits, packs of beasts killing livestock, and enemy soldiers scavenging what they could. Finally the town had enough and sent for a practitioner of the magic arts to aid them in the defense of their village.

This was you.

They didn’t have much but they offered a home and food for your services. You figured you could help them and have a quiet place to conduct your research away from the prying eyes of the council, who liked to hold newer mages under their thumb. It would also just be something nice you could do for your fellow humans, and these folks clearly needed the help.

You didn’t want to stay in this place forever though, so your solution would have to be one that would last long after you were gone.

Given your expertise in summoning and animating the logical choice was a good, old fashioned, golem. A pentagram, some select incense, clay flesh molded to a slate skeleton and imbued with an amethyst heart carrying an artificial soul, some runes carved in, and a scroll inserted that would have him follow his purpose and give him personality.

Then just add in a spell that turned the humanoid clay man into something more human so as not to frighten the villagers too badly and make him able to experience a near human existence.

The ritual was a complete success. Of course it was. You were you after all, young but talented and more importantly utterly dedicated to your craft.

Somnheim now had a mighty protector. An artificial man over 9 feet tall, with huge bulging muscles, shaggy brown hair, stoic brown eyes that gave nothing away, and glowing green runes on his arms and legs. The spell that made him human-like was more than just visual, it gave him nearly all the functions of a human male, he’d be as durable and strong as the hardest metal, never age, and of course he was certainly infertile.

Not one for creative names, you named him Slate.

Eventually bandits came by and decided they would stock up in Somnheim before going on to bigger and better loot.

They did not live to regret that decision.

Slate simply rolled a massive boulder down the hill they approached from and flattened all but a couple. Those he took care of quickly with magically precise throws of average sized stones.

Over the months any threat he couldn’t flatten with a boulder or smack with a stone he would pop open with his mighty fists.

By the end of his first year as the village’s guardian he was beloved by every single townsperson. Even the tiny children, who would climb on him and put flowers in his shaggy hair as he smiled and watched, had no fear of him.

You had enjoyed your time there, but eventually it was time for a change of scenery. You wanted to do more field research and you had saved enough money up with side projects to be able to fund a trip to the other side of the country near The Great Forest.

The villagers were grateful and sad to see you go, but they were much more interested in Slate than you.

But when you packed your bags to leave behind your wattle and daub dwelling once and for all you found yourself blocked by Slate.

He uttered one word in that deep, almost monotone, voice of his.

“No.”

“What do you mean no? I have to leave.” You tried to squeeze past him but he was not having it.

“I must protect the village… Your presence here makes the village safer… I might need repairs… or reinforcements… And you also tasked me with keeping you safe…”

You fudged the wording. You, breather of life into stone, weaver of clay, and creator of souls, messed up the wording.

He picked you up like a box of luggage and sat you on a chair in your makeshift study before going over to the heaviest bookshelf, picking it up, and placing it in front of the only door so you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll move it when I need to leave… then I will put a rock outside to keep you here…”

And that became your life. A literal prisoner in your own home.

Your magical abilities were useless in this situation, you were not a battlemage that could explode a wall, you couldn’t teleport, you bent earth.

Of course you tried to tunnel your way out by making a hole under your bed, but Slate had walked in and caught you red handed. He had confiscated and locked away all your magical supplies and texts unless you needed them to repair him you were not getting them back.

Slate was tentative enough of your physical needs, bringing you food and water and taking you outside like some sort of pet for sunlight, fresh air, and exercise. You had tried to run away but of course he had inhuman speed. And the villagers refused to help. What if Slate refused to save them if they did that?

It was a fair concern, he was made to protect the village and not villagers, he may even see them as a threat if they assisted you. You were on your own.

Though you were healthy enough physically your mental condition was deteriorating rapidly. How could you not be? Being trapped in the same building, even with trips outside, was awful. The villagers only looked at you with pity if they looked at you at all, and no one would even talk to you anymore.

It got to the point where you barely eat, refused to go outside, and spent all your time laying in bed.

Slate was failing the magical directives that governed his personality and behavior. You were clearly not safe, he was convinced that you would die if this continued, and honestly you likely would… eventually…

But the golem was not incapable of learning. He observed the other humans to find out what he could add to your life to bring you back to your usual self.

One night, when he was sitting in front of the house watching the humans passing by and holding hands, he came to the conclusion that humans had families, they lived together in their dwellings and they loved each other. They coupled together and mated.

Up until this point Slate had only been directed by simple emotion and the unyielding parchment that had imbued him with his goals. But now his task demanded something more of him, it demanded a much more complex emotion. The magic in him allowed this evolution, and now he was much more dangerous because he loved you. But it wasn’t just love he felt for the first time, it was lust.

Slate’s expression became one of someone thinking about the one who they adored infinitely, an expression of a man thinking about the person he wanted to have writhing in pleasure beneath him, even his normally green runes and brown eyes took on an amorous pink glow.

When you heard the boulder blocking the door shift and then heard the bookshelf take its place as what was blocking your way out as Slate came lumbering in with his heavy steps you didn’t even glance up.

Not until he stood in front of you and you noticed his strange pink glow replacing his green one did you stir.

You sat up in bed and when you saw the strange way his normally near emotionless eyes were staring at you, and glowing, you scooted away.

“I know what you need now! I am so sorry for not realizing sooner…” He said in a surprisingly soothing tone, a stark departure from his normally deep monotone.

“What do yo-”

Your words were forgotten as he took off his shirt and pants revealing a sweaty body and a frighteningly large cock.

“You need a partner to be happy, like the other humans, and you need to mate!”

He sounded very eager.

“No! Uh… I don’t need to… mate. I need to lea-” he put a large finger over your lips and shushed you before gripping your pants and peeling them and your underwear away from you carefully.

There was no dissuading him from his chosen course of action, he would make you happy and keep you safe no matter what!

It’s what you needed.

Slate leaned forward and spit all over your hole, thoroughly lubing it with his spit, before pressing his big cock into your hole.

It was so large that you let out a whimper of pain at first, but he was somehow knowledgeable enough about sex to know he needed to let you adjust to the size rather than just ramming himself in.

You gasped and writhed but he held you still with his massive hands running up and down your sides as he slowly pulled you down on his prick.

Slate was in complete heaven, he had never really known much pleasure of any kind, let alone the type that came with burying his cock in someone he was now completely obsessed with.

He had no idea his dick could be used for this at all, but now that he did he would certainly be doing this everyday, maybe even a couple times a day! The perfect blend of heat and softness was amazing.

As he began to thrust slowly, with a blissed out expression as he stared up at nothing with drool coming out of his mouth, you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure as his cock caressed your depths perfectly.

Hearing your breathy moans snapped him back to reality. You were finally happy again~

The treatment was working! That settled it, he would do this every single day no matter what!

Carefully gripping your sides a bit more firmly he moved your entire body back and forth on his cock. You couldn’t help it, your whole body twitched with the force of a massive orgasm. The sensation of your body spasming around his previously virgin dick caused him to slam in deep and cum hard.

He pulled you close, holding your head into his muscular chest as he panted, his dick still firmly impaling your limp body. You hadn’t been eating much and this serious fucking had taken a lot out of you.

Slate cleaned the two of you up, bathing you gently before taking advantage of your compliant state by spoon feeding you some dinner he had brought from a town person.

Mating with you made you so pleasured and too tired to resist him when he took care of you, he almost couldn’t wait until you had enough energy to do it again, his cock strained in his pants with anticipation.

[senualothbrok]

Carried Away

Summary: A response to @dekariosclan 's request for some good old fashioned boring bed sex with Gale. (Read the ask as it's a masterpiece of smut in itself). I hope this is boring enough for you, my dear 🫶 (it became more tender than hot, I hope this is ok😅)

Word count: 817

Disclaimers: NSFW. Smut. Vaginal sex / penetration.

AO3 link

When a rustle of cool air tickles your shoulder, you clutch at the blanket. Cocooned in the darkness of sleep, you are vaguely aware of the warmth of his body, his tired heave as he slides into bed beside you. You roll towards him, the scent of his teaching robes still clinging to his pores.

“What time is it?” you croak.

“Four o’ clock,” he breathes. “Go back to sleep.”

You grizzle. As his arm drapes over you, you bury your nose in the silk of his hair.

“So late,” you mumble.

Memory flickers in your slumber. The untouched dinner left on his desk in the study. His brisk peck on your cheek when you wished him goodnight. Your fleeting resignation as you glanced at the Gale-shaped hole beside you before you blew the candle out.

“Forgive me, my love.” His soft lips graze your forehead. “I got carried away with the modifications I was making to--"

A gaping yawn swallows his words. You nuzzle into him, your fingers seeking his. His legs tangle into yours, the tendrils of sleep wrapping around your bodies. He lets out a small sound, half-moan, half-breath, as his nose settles into the crook between your neck and shoulder. 

It could be minutes or hours. You drift through the veil between dreams and wakefulness, Gale’s breathing a soothing rhythm against your skin. From a distance, you feel the firm brush of his toes against your calf, a hard heat whispering against your thigh.

You ignore it at first. But a gentle pressure is circling your nipple, trailing down to your navel. A faint wetness tingles on your earlobe, his rasp trembling through you like a siren. Your lips search the roughness of his beard as you press against him. 

His mouth is open when you find it. His length nestles into your core, firm and insistent. Your tongues are lazy and slow as you savour his taste, thick with sleep and stupor and need. In the blind haze of exhaustion and desire, you do not need speech. Nor do you need light to find the points of each other’s pleasure, imprinted on your senses like an ancient map. 

He does not need to ask when he hooks his knee around your waist, pulling you closer. You do not need to check before your hand dips into his briefs to free the thrust of his cock. It surges against your touch as you skim his leaking tip, tracing the veins that twitch on his girth. You know them as well as the lines on your own palm, the heady fragrance of his musk. You relish each other’s groans as you lift your leg over his, guiding him into your waiting folds. And when, with one long stroke, he fills you to the brim, the ache that flares is like a spell. 

Your fingers fist into his tousled hair, the peaks of your nipples rubbing raw against his chest as he rocks. He clasps the cheeks of your ass in a silent demand, and you whimper as you angle your leg wider, inviting him deeper, into the deepest parts of you, reserved for him alone. You arch your back as he pumps into you with growing urgency. A throbbing hunger pulses with his every pant and plunge. You are fully awake now, and so is he.

“I missed you.” He laps and sucks at your mouth, your earlobe, your chin. “Gods, I missed you.”

“I'm here.” You grind against him, desperate for more. For all of him. “I’m yours.”

You clutch at his muscles, hard and taut as he rolls into you with gathering speed, a raging flood against your banks. There is no reserve, no restraint in him, nothing but love and unbridled need. Your walls clench around his stretching stiffness. 

“I love you."

He spasms, a shaking hand cupping your cheek, his forehead pushing against yours in a mist of sweat and sandalwood and desire.

“I love you.”

Your tongues are a ravenous frenzy, his beard a dizzying rasp against your chin. His hips snap furiously as he bottoms out again and again.

“I love you.”

You can no longer tell if it is his voice or yours, or where his touch meets your own in the darkness. You are one body, one soul, and when you cry out and shatter into each other, you cannot tell where his ecstasy ends and yours begins.

He remains inside you as your chests rise and fall, your breaths slackening. Sated, complete, your kisses become languid and halting. When he pulls out, he plants a feather light kiss on the tip of your nose, and you let out a silent laugh. Your fingers remain intertwined as his arm returns to drape over you, where it belongs.

“I forgive you,” you murmur, and you feel him smile into your skin as you sink back into sleep.

***

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[chxrrie-b4by]

backyard | matt sturniolo

pairing: dom!matt x fem!reader warings: smut, thigh riding, fingering, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, roughish sex, choking, slight hair pulling, creampie word count: 1,653

this is my first time posting a fic on here lol i hope this does well and you like it. also i proofread this so hopefully there shouldn't be any spelling errors. feel free to leave requests in my inbox!!! - xo 🍒

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what was supposed to be a cute little picnic in the backyard with your boyfriend quickly - and pathetically - turned into much more the second he pulled you into his lap with his firm grip.

he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sucking hickeys onto the skin right under your ear. you rearranged yourself over one of his thighs, straddling it. with wetness pooling in your underwear, you couldn't control yourself from rolling your hips against his denim-clad thigh. 

“dirty girl,” he grins into your neck, grazing his teeth against your skin, making you mewl.

you felt his hands harshly grip your ass under your little dress, guiding you, encouraging you. the two of you found the perfect rhythm. you put your hands on the sides of his head, softly digging your manicured nails into his scalp as you continued rolling your hips. you brought his lips to yours, whimpering into his mouth. he took his hands off your ass, putting one behind him to prop himself up, and tangling the other in your hair. 

the pressure of your pussy on matt’s thigh felt like heaven. he gathered your hair in his hand, pulling your head back, making you stare up at the afternoon sky. his kisses trailed down the front of your neck and he lightly brushed your shoulder, the strap of your dress falling down. his hand quickly went to caress your exposed breast, but not before he stuck his thumb in your mouth to collect some spit. he circled his thumb around your nipple. you moaned through closed lips as you rode his thigh hard, needy for more. 

“just like that. feel good, baby?” he asked, looking up at you in awe.

“mmm, feels so fucking good.”

“good girl.” his words turned you on more than he could ever know. 

both of his hands landed on your hips, roughly grinding you onto his thigh now. with every movement, your knee rubbed against the bulge in his pants causing him to let out raspy groans while you moaned at the sensation of your clit perfectly rutting against the coarse fibers of his jeans through your thin lacy panties. he connected your lips in a passionate kiss, immediately taking control by sliding his tongue in your mouth.

“gonna cum,” you mumbled.

“fuck, baby. give it to me.” he demanded lowly.

you moved your pussy against his thigh faster with his help as your orgasm built up deep in your stomach. your whining crescendoed as all the built up pressure ceased when you came hard on his thigh, your own thighs shaking and your grinding becoming inconsistent as you let the pleasure wash over you.

“god, you're so pretty when you cum for me.” he smiled at you.

you leaned into him, making him lay flat on the quilt the two of you had put over the grass earlier. you kissed him feverishly, using both of your hands on either side of his head to hold yourself up, moaning when one of his hands threaded through the hair at the base of your neck and closed into a fist. 

“want you to fuck me,” you pulled away from the kiss, panting, “please.”

“yeah?” he smirked knowingly.

“yeah.” 

he quickly flipped you over, causing you to squeal and the both of you to giggle. he gave a quick peck to your lips before he sat up straight, pushed your dress up to your waist, softly traced under the waistband of your panties, then used both of his hands to yank them down your legs and over your shoes. your knees fell together, but not for long as he pulled them apart and laid his eyes on your glistening pussy. 

“look at this pretty pussy,” he rasped out, almost painfully. “all this for me?”

“yes, matt - fuck,” you interrupted yourself as he traced your sensitive clit with his fingers, “all for you.”

your legs were spread wide for him, pussy on display, and you had to hold back a moan when he gathered spit to the front of his mouth and let it drip down onto your cunt, rubbing it all over your folds. he used the thumb of his other hand to spread your pussy for him and inserted his spit-covered ring and middle fingers into your hole. the cold metal of his rings an insane contrast to your hot, flushed skin. 

he fucked his fingers into you over and over again until you became a whining, needy mess. his digits filled you up, but at the same time, you still felt empty, craving his cock more than anything.

“matt, please,” you whispered.

“what, baby?” he knew what he was doing, although he acted confused.

“please… need your cock.”

“if that’s what you want,” he grinned to himself.

his fingers pulled out of you, but quickly intruded your mouth. you sucked your arousal off of them as your eyes locked with his other hand which was swiftly undoing his belt. it had to have been the most attractive thing you'd seen: his mouth open and eyebrows furrowing in concentration, his slender fingers fiddling with metal buckle. he took his hand away from your mouth, using it to pull up the hem of his shirt, exposing his lower abdomen. he continued to undo the button and zipper, the lose fabric falling ever so low on his hips. he pushed down his jeans and boxers just enough to pull out his dick, hard and leaking precum right before your eyes. he looked up at your face, a pout on your lips and your eyebrows tightly knit together as you stared at his cock, so badly wanted to feel it deep inside you.

he stroked the shaft a couple times, more sticky precum leaking out of his tip. your cunt pulsed with need as it clenched around nothing, the desire to be filled by him becoming white-hot, the only thing you could think about.

he spoke again, pulling you out of your trance. “you want it?”

“yes, yes, so fucking bad,” you babbled out.

after tapping his pink tip on your clit a few times - making your body jolt - he leaned over you, one hand on his dick, the other flat beside your head. he kissed your lips and then slowly pushed his hips forward, cock sliding right into your pussy. you gasped while he let out an open-mouthed groan, his eyes fluttering shut. he wrapped a hand around your thigh, holding it firmly against his waist and pulled almost all the way out of you, then slowly fucked back into you, reaching deeper than before. 

ready for him to pick up the pace, you writhed your hips up against his. he took the hint and began thrusting faster. moaning, you grabbed and clawed at his shoulders and arms, your head leaning back and your eyes closing in ecstasy. but you quickly felt his hand on your jaw, pulling your head forward.

“no,” he growled, his pace becoming bruising, hitting that spot deep inside of you vigorously. “look what i'm fucking doing to you, sweetheart,” his tone was somehow rough but sweet at the same time. 

a sharp moan left your lips as you watched his cock disappear inside of you. his hand on your jaw slithered down to your neck, flexing his fingers and restricting the blood flow to your head. and it made everything so much more intense. a strained whine left your throat. matt roughly kissed you - his relentless thrusting never subsiding - and just like that, your head was flat against the quilt again.

“you fucking like that, don't you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

you nodded, unable to speak, more strained sounds of pleasure spewing from your open mouth. he kept his hand snug around your throat for a while longer, then settled on rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

“oh my god!” you cried out, your nails digging into the side of his ribcage. matt whimpered at the pain, but he loved it. loved when you left marks on him; hickeys on his neck, red scratches across his back, little crescent indents in his skin, bite marks on his shoulder. 

your cunt clenched around his dick tightly, a second orgasm brewing inside you. you were almost tempted to push matt away, the pleasure becoming so overwhelming, but you needed to feel his cum deep in your tummy.

“i'm gonna cum,” you whimpered out.

“fuck, me too. i'm so fucking close.” 

the both of you let out moans and groans, whimpers and whines, strings of curse words and incoherent sentences. his fingers on your clit never slowed down, finally causing the band in your stomach to snap and you to cry out. he brought his lips to yours again, swallowing your sounds.

your pussy contracting tightly around his cock as you came was enough to finally make him do the same, whining loudly. spurts of his hot cum filling up your pussy, coating your insides. he continued thrusting into you until he couldn't anymore, his pace slowing and then halting completely, but not pulling out just yet. 

the two of you were left panting into each other's mouths. you wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him onto you. he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck and softly kissed your skin, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.

“i love you. did so good for me.” he praised lovingly.

“i love you too,” you breathed out, turning both of you onto your sides, facing each other.

he gave you a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose, making you smile, and you laid there together for a bit; kissing and talking about whatever was on your minds as the sun set and the sky got dark. after a while, he carried you inside for a bath, then tucked you into bed and the two of you fell asleep.

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[perfectlyoongi]

JEALOUS!YOONGI who doesn’t understand why he has a heavy heart when you say you’re going out with someone else. if there was someone who supported you and encouraged you to see the world, it was Yoongi. he was always ready to receive your news with a wide smile and your stories with a sparkle in his eyes; but when you talked about another person, someone else who made you laugh and shared pleasant memories with you, Yoongi felt a bitter taste in his heart. would Yoongi be sad that he didn’t take you on that trip? would Yoongi be disappointed in himself for not taking you to that restaurant for the first time? what spells did your words cast to cover his heart with a thorny cloak of pure discomfort? “i hope you have fun. but… if you see something is wrong or you don’t feel comfortable, don't hesitate to call. i will get you as soon as possible and i promise to make your time worth it.”

JEALOUS!YOONGI who can’t control his face when he sees someone flirting with you. at parties or meetings, on walks or dinners, every time someone tried to be more flirty to get your attention, Yoongi just looked at them. his eyes lost the shine they gained since the day he met you; his lips were pressed into a straight line in an attempt to control his sarcastic smile; his hands closed into two perfect fists for him to divert all his disdain into his hands; and his mind just repeated the same questions over and over again so they stay stuck in his heart instead of confessing them to you. “have you ever noticed that only men with mommy issues decide to talk to you? have you ever noticed how desperate they are of getting your attention? why couldn’t you pay attention to me instead? i would make you laugh. i would make your night perfect. so why do you prefer those children instead of me?”

JEALOUS!YOONGI who spends the entire car ride in silence. when the end of the day arrived and he was getting ready to leave you at home, Yoongi couldn’t think of a single word to address you. maybe if he went back to yesterday when he still had universes to confess to you he could think of something to tell you; but the reality is that Yoongi only thought about your giggles, your smiles, your eyes so beautiful and bright, your words so delicate and pleasant — all focused on the others. what did they have that Yoongi didn’t? what words did they say that Yoongi couldn’t repeat? no. that Yoongi couldn’t improve, mold them perfectly for your heart to take comfort in them and realize that in reality you only needed Yoongi to make you truly happy.

JEALOUS!YOONGI who remembers all the names and details of your friends. John was so tall you had to gently tilt your head to look him in the eyes — how cute. Chan had fingers so long that your hands touched when he gave you the glass — he wanted that too. Luke made you laugh so hard that you had to cover your mouth with your hand and look around in embarrassment — what a melody. Seok managed to tell such a good story that you just kept asking for more and questioning everything — he wanted that too. Jun convinced you to take a photo with him and you even leaned against his chest — how beautiful. and Yoongi just saw you, just heard you, just admired you, without any courage to make all those details his own. “yes, yes, i remember Choi. wasn’t he the one who greeted you with a hug? and then spilled his drink on you, but those are details. who pays attention to them, am i right?”

JEALOUS!YOONGI who denies with all his strength that he is jealous. why would Yoongi be jealous if you, firstly, were just his friend?, and secondly, he just wanted to see you happy? Yoongi wouldn’t stop your happiness, and, even if it meant you talking to someone who made him uncomfortable, he would just support you and help you find your way. of course he preferred to see you laughing at his jokes and blushing when you accidentally touched his hands. of course he would prefer you to tell him everything about your day and invite him on spontaneous dates. but what do you mean he was jealous? don’t be ridiculous. “do you really think that? please! i’m just looking out for you. you deserve better than them — you are better than them! don’t be silly. go hang out with him and leave me alone.”

JEALOUS!YOONGI who says you are a free person to live your life. if you want to sleep at someone else’s house, feel free to do it! if you want to try the new coffee with that one, go ahead! why should Yoongi stop you from living your life? you are the one who knows what you want, and who you want it with. Yoongi had no vote on the matter. go! go to the park with this guy and leave Yoongi at home! why not, right? after all he will always be there waiting for you. so go! live your life without thinking about him. go! “just go. but if you want to come back, if you feel like it was all a mistake, you can always come to me. always.”

JEALOUS!YOONGI who doesn’t know why he shut you up with a kiss, he just felt it was necessary. shut up. shut up. shut up. why do you always have this need to tell everything in detail? why do you think Yoongi wanted to know how your date went? yes, he already understood. he’s very funny ah ah ah. okay, now that’s enough. stop. please. shut up. shut up. shu—! “i… i don’t know what came over me. sorry. you just... you just talked and talked and wouldn’t shut up and i... i wanted you to shut up. and… and i…”

[rroseselavyyy]

special needs - jjk

pairing: jungkook x female reader

warnings: smut

Jungkook threw his black t-shirt onto his bed before throwing his tired body down next to it with a deep sigh. He stared sleepily at the ceiling as his alcohol-filled system took over his mind.

However, there was one thing that kept him from sleeping peacefully and that was that he could feel his cock still aching for release ever since he finally had the chance to get this close to you after you started dating his best friend.

He could still feel your petal lips pressed to his cheek in genuine affection before telling him to drive safely on his way home, his fingertips tracing a path up his cheek at the memory without realizing it.

In a way like the cold breeze through the open window of his bedroom brought the faint scent of cherry blossoms from your perfume into his nostrils and made his head spin with the alcohol rushing through his veins, he closed his eyes and let the satin sheets bring him a sense of comfort as the cold sensation of them soothed his nerves.

It wouldn't hurt to have his hyung's girlfriend just for one night, would it?

He was far too drunk to notice that his hands had found their way to his belt, his intoxicated brain filled with mental images of you smiling from ear to ear as he told you a ridiculous joke on the dance floor, the very feeling of the blush creeping up his neck from your arms wrapped loosely around it still alive.

He shuddered as the cold of his hand met with the base of his cock, spreading the precum along his shaft. He was oblivious to the world around him when your trademark giggle echoed like a soft melody in his ears.

Now all he could feel was your hips riding him in slow circular motions. He lifted his hips with every ounce of strength he had, desperate to match your pace as if he could never get enough of you.

His soft moans turned to desperate whimpers, the faint moonlight from the window accentuating his sweaty torso like a roman statue, his chest constantly puffing with his uneven breathing.

As if the universe was making fun of him, everything turned into a cheap-ass teen movie and all the memories he shared with you played in his head behind the melody of the metal songs he listened when he was a teenager. You were everywhere as he tugged at his cock like he wanted to get you out of his skin, but you had been carved into his mind for all these years.

He felt like a teenager again who couldn't stop jerking off at the thought of you, but this time he felt no shame, on the contrary, he felt entitled to have you under him.

You were his dream even when Seokjin was not in the picture. Jungkook wasn't meant to be the villain of your princess fairytale.

He sank his teeth into his bottom lip so hard he could taste the blood on his tongue as the thin line between reality and fantasy faded away and all he could think about was nibbling at your nipples.

He thrust his hips up into you as he felt himself reaching his orgasm, kisses he wanted to ink on his skin like a tattoo on his throat felt heavenly as your delicate fingers wrapped around his neck like a collar.

If it meant he could be yours, he was willing to give himself to you in every possible way. He would let you put a collar around his neck, chain him to your bed, tie his eyes with your scarf, after all, you already had him under your spell.

Even in the dark of his bedroom, he could still remember the bitter taste of coffee on his tongue when he kissed you, just like the bitter taste on his tongue when he congratulated you on your relationship with Seokjin.

Before he kissed you for the first time, he could never have known that something so bitter could be sweeter than anything he had ever tasted, making him crave it with every fibre of his being.

He came with a deep growl, his defined stomach glistening with enough cum to impregnate you if you were the one fucking him and not his fist. He wanted to hold you in his arms as the intimacy felt unbelievably real, but he knew he could wake up from his dream at any moment if he tried.

He smiled to himself as he lay on his bed, completely spent and finally ready to sleep.

Maybe one day he would be the one to take you home. Maybe one day you would understand that he was the one for you.

He could wait for you to come back to him, and maybe this time he could prove that you mean the world to him.