#...what if i hit you with a rock what then

[vickymura]

PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ play-fighting and size difference always gets off riki, so he shows you just how much of that holds factual.

GENRE ~ smut, fluff.

WORD COUNT ~ 1.223k

ᯓ★ part 2 of 9:27 but i don't think you need to read it to understand. this is plain smut lol.

riki couldn’t help himself as he leaned down to press his lips to your neck again, his kisses rougher this time as he kissed and nipped at your skin, moving his mouth to the other side of your neck as he left what were sure to be visible marks behind. 

one of his hands continued to slide up your side underneath your shirt, gently caressing your skin as it moved up to your chest, gently fondling your tits from over your bra. he smirked against your skin when he felt you arch your back.

he pulled his lips away from your neck with one last, hard bite, his gaze flicking down to your expression before speaking in a low voice. "this shirt... it needs to come off, baby." he leaned up so he could get a better view of you, his eyes raking up and down your body. he tugged at the shirt you were wearing, the action prompting you to lift up your arms so he could pull it off.

he tossed the shirt to the side, his eyes darting to your chest and taking in the sight of your bra-clad chest rising and falling in response to each breath you took. he swallowed as his hand found the soft skin of your side, his touch gentle yet firm as he caressed your side once again.

his lips came in contact with your collarbone, kissing and sucking on the skin as he slowly started making his way down your chest and stomach, his hand squeezing against your waist as he moved further and further down your body.

he stopped once he reached your jeans. he tugged at the fabric of jeans, his eyes darting to look up at you before mumbling into your stomach, “off.”

“you’re so bossy..” you weakly commented with the little dignity left after being made into a whimpering mess from just his kisses, but nevertheless compiled by lifting your hips as a sign for him to undress your jeans.

he chuckled against your stomach, the sound sending tingles up your spine. he began unbuttoning the denim garment, unzipping it before hooking his hands under the material to begin pulling it down your legs. he tossed your jeans to the side, along with the rest of discarded clothes. when he looked back at you, you were left in only a pair of panties wet from arousal at the crotch and a bra. he smirked as his eyes raked up and down your body. just the sight of you lying below him, breathless and flushed, was driving him crazy.

he let out a shaky exhale, reaching for the hem of his shirt and yanking it off carelessly. he lowered himself once again, pressing the tent in his shorts onto your panty-clad pussy as fumbled with the hook of your bra. with a single skilled move, he relieved you of its confinement, sighing in pleasure when he felt your bare tits pressed against his muscular chest.

“so soft..” he purred into your ear, holding onto your waist and once again peppering lazy, wet kisses on the marks he’d decorated onto your skin earlier, rocking his hips into yours. the thin layer of your panties did very less to block the friction that came from his actions, earning lewd whimpers from your mouth.

“riki..." you whined, your hips jerking up ever so often, your slick nearly beginning to seep onto the fabric of his shorts. he only let out a sultry chuckle in response, enjoying the feeling of your tits all soft and pressed up against him.

he decided to put an end to the foreplay, momentarily getting off of the bed to pull his shorts and boxers down in one motion, causing his cock to spring free and hit his abdomen. with a silent curse, he climbed back on top of you, yanking your panties off, throwing them in a direction he was too horny to care about.

he took a hold of your hips to help align himself, making you whimper in anticipation. you held onto his shoulders, watching his expressions as he suddenly slowly penetrated your neglected pussy. he let out a quiet sigh of pleasure, his expression warping into one of utter bliss at the feeling of your insides.

you let out a string of whimpers and quiet moans, adjusting to his invasion, your thighs instinctively closing shut. he let out a grunt, beginning to pound into you at a slow, sensual pace, his hands moving to your calves to force them up over his shoulders ensuring that your legs remained open for him to exploit. the new position caused his cock to reach places unimaginable in you, your eyes rolling back over each one of his thrusts. 

“fuck..” he groaned out, placing his hands on either sides of your head as he fucked you hard and deep. your chest heaved as you let out soft moans of pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders and causing a stinging pain that somehow only made thrilled.

you uncontrollably clenched around him, hips bucking forward when he began nudging against your cervix. your head was thrown back in pleasure, tits bouncing in a way almost hypnotizing. “faster..” you softly pleaded, hands clutched onto his broad shoulders for your dear life.

he let out a low, sultry chuckle against your ear but couldn't resist picking up his pace making the frame of his bed creek in ways not less than crude. he groaned as you tightened around him, taking a hold of your wrists and pinning your hands down beside your head, interlocking your hands with his as he did so. “you feel so fucking good, baby.. keep doing that..” his hot breath fanned against your neck as he pound into you almost relentlessly. his grunts began to grow louder and more frequent the more you clenched around him, driving him to bite down on your neck to muffle his sounds.

“s-so close, riki..” you shakily whispered, prompting him to let go of one of your hands, bringing it to begin stimulating your clit. you let out a breathy moan, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten more than ever.

“me too, baby.. cum for me, c’mon..” he lifted his head from your neck to make eye contact as he circled the calloused pads of his index and middle finger around your clit. with a final moan louder than the ones before, you released rings of cum around his cock. your warm release triggered his, and he slammed his length deep into you, filling you with his warm seed with a low curse.

he remained inside you for a good few moments, simply cherishing the intimacy of the moment and eye contact before his body gave out. he panted softly and chuckled, taking his softening cock out of your puffy folds, his body collapsing onto yours. you too chuckled between heavy huffs of breath, bringing your free hand to wrap around his neck.

“you’re so good for me..” he whispered lovingly, landing a lingering smooches on your bare chest, followed by ticklish licks. each giggle he coaxed out of you was like a little reward for him. once he was satisfied with hearing enough of it, he lifted his head up at you, cupped your cheek and mumbled, 

“i love you, baby.” reblog and comment or i'll appear in ur room at 3 am with a knife :3 💗

[gurugirl]

A Good Boy Xmas Blurb

A Good Boy Masterlist

Summary: Y/n gets Harry a special xmas gift and she helps him get acquainted with it.

Word Count: 1,658

Warning: smut, assisted masterbation, use of toy, age gap

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

"What is this?" Harry looked at Y/n, a surprised smile on his face after he'd opened one of the gifts she got him. He knew exactly what he was looking at.

"Something to use when I'm not here. You can pretend it's me."

The small tabletop Christmas tree in the corner lit up the space of his dorm room while they had a pine-scented candle burning on his bedside table.

He turned the fleshlight over in his hands and eyed the opening where it looked like part of the female anatomy—sort of. "Looks nothing like yours."

She laughed, "Well it's not supposed to. Just something to have fun with when I'm not here."

He grinned and looked down at it, fingers pressing over the soft material, "Very thoughtful. Wished it looked more like you, though. Gonna be weird sticking myself in this and trying to pretend it's you when it looks like…" he laughed, "Well, I don't know who it looks like."

Y/n climbed to her knees and kissed his mouth softly, "Let's play with it now. I'll help you with it that way next time you use it alone you'll remember that I was here the first time you fucked it."

He swallowed and groaned, "But what if I just want to fuck you instead."

"Well, we can do that later, can't we? I'm here all weekend with you. Let me try this out on you. Want to see how it looks." She grasped the toy in her hand and kissed her way down his neck.

Y/n and Harry would be spending Christmas together in his dorm. She didn't want to be in that big house with Leo while he had Parker over. She wasn't jealous, it was just an awkward setup. Plus Parker didn't like Y/n being there when she was.

All the better for Y/n really. She could just spend more time with Harry. Leo told her that he'd rent her a condo in the city after the New Year. He was feeling guilty for the whole Parker thing. She wondered what he'd think if he knew she was fucking his son.

They'd cross that bridge when they got to it.

Harry was already hard. Of course, he was. Any talk of sex with Y/n and he was raring to go almost immediately. With her mouth still pressed to his, she pushed him down, his back hitting the mattress as she reached over him and worked at his button.

His big, solid prick was so nice and warm in her hand once she pulled it out of his boxers. She'd slid his jeans down to his thighs and then brought the rest down with it so she could take him in her palm.

He gasped a laugh, "Hands are cold."

Y/n moaned as she kissed his neck and stroked him, "And your cock is gonna warm them right up."

Y/n slid her hand up and down his shaft slowly as she kissed his neck. By the time her hand was all warm, he was softly bucking his hips and moaning desperately.

"You ready to get your big cock fucked by my little present?"

He panted as he nodded, eyelids drooped as he rocked into her hand, "Okay but I want you more."

She grinned at him as she shifted and reached for the lube that she'd bought with the toy. Harry watched her get the silicone slippery for him, sliding her finger all around before she smeared the rest down his length, "You can have me all weekend. Right now, I want to see how good this feels on you. Want to watch you come."

Pulling his pants and boxers the rest of the way off his legs she lowered down to kiss at the top of his thigh and tease her lips close to his dick, her breath warming his base before she sat up and settled between his thighs, fleshlight in hand.

"You're such a good boy for me. Bend your legs a little more so you have enough leverage to thrust into it, okay?"

Harry did what she said, planting his feet flat and bending at the knees as she slowly pushed the opening of the toy over his tip. Right away he bucked upward to stuff the toy full but she pulled it upward and tsk'd at him, "Hold on. Let me get you all warmed up first, then you can go to down. Feel that?"

He grasped the blankets in his hand as she pressed it only over his tip, sliding it up and down in smooth strokes slowly.

"Fuck…" he groaned.

"Mmhmm… It's good, isn't it? Knew you'd like it."

He breathed out, "Yeah. But you're better…"

She grinned as she pushed the fleshlight down his cock further, "I know I am. Nothing beats a real, live, warm pussy."

Harry's thick shaft disappeared into the sleeve as she stroked him, the lube gushing as she fucked him with it. But when she finally pressed it all the way down to his base his tip came out the other end. His pink, mushroomed head looked so sweet, she couldn't help but lean down and kiss it, wrapping her lips just over the very tip before she sat back and continued working the toy over him.

Harry coughed out a moan as he looked from his girlfriend to the toy that was wrapped around his dick.

"You can fuck into it now. I'll keep my hand here to hold it steady."

His jaw was slack as he began rutting up. She loved watching how he did it. Sliding his thick shaft up and down, the tip poking out the back end before he'd draw it back in and feel the slippery silicone wrapped around him.

Harry watched the sleeve as he plunged into it and then looked up at Y/n with a moan. He wanted to be inside of her, not some plastic toy. Sure, the fleshlight felt good on him but Y/n's pussy was warm and the way she wet him and squeezed around him couldn't be replicated. There was no comparison.

He inhaled through his teeth when he fucked up again, his tip poking through as he throbbed and leaked a bead of precome. He worked his hips up and down, thigh muscles and glutes flexing, his balls pressing into the plastic edge of the toy.

Y/n moaned as she watched how filthy the scene was. Bulbous pink, lube-smeared crown pressed through the end as his abs flexed. His cheeks were heated, and his parted lips were puffy and pink as he arched his brows together and breathed out studdered breaths, his eyes on hers.

"Look at you. Barely fit in this little thing. Kind of a snug fit isn't it, baby?"

He groaned, his throat bobbing as he thrust up and reached for her hand, "Let me put it in you. Please."

She bit her lip and squeezed his hand, "Mmm… Just imagine it's me, Harry."

Y/n pulled her sweater upward and peeled it off her head before unplucking her bra hook to expose her tits to him. She placed her hand back on the toy to keep it in place as she leaned over him, breasts wobbling softly.

He moaned loudly as he watched her pretty breasts and tried his hardest to imagine he was fucking into her, to imagine she was on top of him with her warm pussy encasing his length. The bed springs under him bounced gently as he rocked his hips upward.

"Ooh… Fuck, you're so good. Getting me all wet just watching this."

He grabbed a palmful of her breast and squeezed as he clenched his teeth, nostrils flaring as he edged toward his release. His heart was fluttering so fast in his chest as he set his gaze on Y/n's, plunging his cock through the silicone and gasping as he began to twitch and his balls tightened.

A shaky breath fell from his chest as he reached for the back of her neck and pulled her down to kiss him. He moaned into her mouth as he began to come, a small spurt of sperm hit her tummy as he swung his hips upward and released, most of his come dripping down to his stomach.

Y/n moaned with him, sliding her tongue against his. Harry's heart hammered in his chest and he stilled his thrusts. He'd come so fast, it was pathetic. But he could always be vulnerable in front of Y/n without worry. She never made fun of him for it. Instead, he seemed to imagine that she kind of liked it.

And she did. It was quite flattering how worked up he'd get with her. To Y/n, it was a compliment.

"I take you liked your Christmas gift." She looked down at him, her palm cupping his cheek.

His chest was still heaving as he opened his eyes and nodded, cum all over his low tummy, "That was good. But I still like you better."

She bit her lip and pulled the toy from his dick, making him shiver, "Yeah? You think you can handle another round right now? Watching that got me all wound up."

The thing about Harry was, that he could often go twice in a row. Sometimes he'd come quite fast (he'd get too excited) and if she wasn't quite done she'd keep going and soon enough, Harry'd be right back in it, fucking another load into her after she finally came.

He panted and licked his lips as he pulled at her, "You know I can."

She pulled her jeans off and smiled at him before straddling his hips. He was still all messy as she stroked him gently, "Mmm… still hard for me too. Looks like it's gonna be a Merry Christmas for both of us."

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[keferon]

Mecha headquarters is attacked. The building collapses. Blurr goes in and doesn't come back out. And Swindle's the one that's got to deal with the fallout. As far as nightmare scenarios go, this is pretty high up on Swindle's list.

----------------------------------

Swindle only pulls his phone out of his pocket when he reaches the shadows off to the side of where rescue crews are digging through the rubble of mecha headquarters.  Digging they only started because Blurr, the face of mecha, went into that building and didn't come out.  Digging they are only continuing because they believe they've found signs of life buried in the rock.  Which is why Swindle's phone has been buzzing nonstop for the past several minutes.

He looks at the names next to the missed calls.  Shockwave.  Shockwave again.  Pharma.  Unknown number. (Shockwave?)….  The list goes on.

Swindle doesn't know how Shockwave or Pharma knows already, but they must.  Swindle's first call since Blurr disappeared under that ton of rubble had been to emergency services.  Every call since has been to call in favors, pull strings – exert as much influence as he can to keep the details of what's going on out of the news.  To keep the potential damage this could do to a minimum.

Somehow, it hasn't been enough.  Which means this situation is fast heading towards something more than what Swindle can handle on his own.

Swindle pulls a second phone from his pocket and hits the number on speed dial.

"Hello?" A voice answers within one ring of Swindle dialing.  Onslaught.  He relaxes slightly.

"You watching the news?"  Swindle skips over customary greetings, security measures – there's no time for them now.  He knows it is Onslaught on the other end of the line.  Onslaught will recognize it is him by his voice.  That much, they still have to be able to trust.

What exactly will be on the news, Swindle doesn't know.  But, it's a safe bet that at least some of the basics of the mecha attack will be broadcast.  Beyond that, it all depends on how much Swindle's contacts came through.

"Yeah.  Mecha was attacked.  They're saying no casualties, so why are you calling me?"  Onslaught asks.

"That's all they're saying?" Swindle asks in return. "No casualties?"

"That's all.  No casualties," Onslaught confirms.  "Showed some footage of the fighting.  Pretty standard stuff.  Cut in some impressive footage of Blurr's mech.  What's going on? Not that I'm not glad to hear personal confirmation you're not dead, but this line is for emergencies."

"There is one.  Shockwave."  Swindle says the name as though there's no further justification needed for why he's calling on this line.  And really, there isn't.  They had agreed to that from the start of this venture.  "He's been calling me.  Non-stop."

Swindle thinks he hears a soft curse on the other end of the line then, "Why would he care?  What's his interest?"

"Blurr," Swindle says.  "That footage, of his mech – was the actual fight.  A fight he never should have been in.  But he did it anyways because there was no other option.  He went into the building and he never came out.  He's the reason they're still here digging – the reason I'm still here."

"And the reason Shockwave's calling," Onslaught fills in.

"Yes.  Him.  And Pharma." Swindle adds.

"Pharma is a medic, you know.  With ratchet going more or less of the grid and First Aid and Ambulon tied up with Vortex he's the highest ranked medic in mecha.  It would be his job to supervise pilot injuries."  Swindle can tell even over the line that Onslaught doesn't really believe his own words.  But they need to make sure they've covered everything if they're going to stay ahead of this.

"He shouldn't know though.  I called in favors to delay the news of Blurr's status until after excavation is complete and you said yourself the news only confirmed no casualties yet," Swindle points out. "I've sent no internal communications.  Pharma shouldn't know yet.  He's too close to Shockwave.  Neither of them should know.  But they've both been calling since the collapse – within minutes of each other."

Swindle definitely hears Onslaught swear at that.  "I don't know exactly what the connection is between Shockwave and Pharma – but I don't want Pharma – or Shockwave – anywhere near this, anywhere near Blurr," he finishes.

"Blurr's alive?"  The question is stated matter-of-factly, though Swindle wouldn't have blamed Onslaught for expressing a note of skepticism.  If the man is still alive, there's no way he's walking away from this without serious injuries.  Swindle would bet every dollar in his accounts on it.

"Possibly.  There are signs of life under the rubble.  We paid Blurr to be the part of a hero for the media.  Turns out when it mattered it wasn't entirely an act.  He saved a lot of lives today – including mine."  If Blurr is pulled from that rubble alive, Swindle will give every dollar it takes from his bank account to ensure it stays that way.  They need Blurr.  More than he knows.

"I never told Blurr the truth behind why it was so important that mecha hire him," Swindle's voice drops as he says the words.

"I am not repaying what he did today by letting him find out firsthand whatever it is Shockwave does in those labs of his.  We're not going to sit back and watch the creation of another Vortex.  It was bad enough when we didn't know.  Now…. Right now, I need you to distract Shockwave and Pharma."

"How long do you need?" As Swindle had at the beginning of their call, Onslaught skips the unnecessary validation and asks the question that gets at the point.  It has Swindle breathing a sigh of relief.

"A few hours, minimum.  But I'll take anything you can give me, just stall them as long as you can.  I've got to go."  Swindle hangs up without waiting for Onslaught's reply.  A stretcher is being carried out of the ruins towards a waiting helicopter.

Swindle manages to make it onboard just before take-off.  He rides all the way to the hospital with Blurr.  Handles all the forms.  Tells the receptionists to put the bills on his card.  He knows (hopes) Blurr could do it when the time came (the man certain has the money; Swindle's been writing his checks) – but he shouldn't have to.  All Blurr should have to focus on is his recovery, and what comes next.  Blurr should have friends, family, a partner – someone to support him in this. 

Swindle knows – has known since early on in working with Blurr – that that is not the case.  He's observed enough to see that Blurr asks for help if he truly needs it, but no one just offers it to him.  Because no one knows to.  In this case, Blurr cannot ask, so Swindle manages instead.

In an ideal world, someone would stay by Blurr's hospital bed, simply so the man didn't have to wake up alone in unfamiliar surroundings with no explanations.  But this is not an ideal world.  And Swindle is not that person.  His time runs out long before then. 

Fresh blood has been spilled.  The predators are circling.  Swindle has a show to put on.  The best he can do is leave his card on the bedside table as a reminder and hope Blurr actually calls if he needs anything. 

I. LOVE THIS. SO FUCKING MUCH YOU CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE

Absolutely in love with this conspiracy thing Onslaught and Swindle have going on. Because YES. OF COURSE. Gosh this is why I love Combaticons. They’re on their own side. Whatever system they are forced to be part of - it doesn’t have full control on them. They’re doing their own thing ehehehehhehe

[sparks-and-smoke]

Hello! Could I get a fic about Bucky accidentally finding the reader’s Christmas gifts to him? Maybe he tries (and fails) to act surprised?

Thank you (ps I know it’s after Christmas, sue me)

Aww~ I don't care that it's too late for the holidays. It's cute! Merry Christmas (belated)

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x reader (code name honey)

Content/Warnings: none it’s just goofy holiday fluff

Author Note: merry late Christmas, this may or may not be loosely based in the Fate Stone AU I have brewing. (which since you are my beta reader ;) you already know about it.)

You are a notoriously bad gift giver, Bucky had been warned many times. He didn’t really care. As long as it came from the heart it couldn’t possibly be that bad. He could put up with socks or a cheesy mug as long as it came from you. But this was worse, so much worse. 

“Sam, I don't even know what to do with it.” Bucky rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands, confiding in the only other person he knew that wouldn’t immediately tell Honey. “Can I be honest here, it’s hideous.”

Sam was keeping a pretty good poker face over his mug poker but the situation was undeniably funny. “It can’t possibly be that bad.” But Bucky’s mortified face said it all. “Why were you spying on her gift away?”

“I didn’t mean too! Necessarily. She hid it in the bottom of the closet, man. She didn’t even hide it well... I’m a spy, I notice things. Plus it was pretty hard to miss.” The blanket had been tucked away in the back of the walk-in closet under a few other things. But the obnoxious colors of the corner peeking out from under the folded jeans had caught his eyes. They didn’t own anything in orange. Anything.  

His honey had gotten him a blanket, which would normally have been so very sweet seeing how Bucky hated being cold, but it wasn’t just a blanket. It was one of those viral blankets, the ones that are loosely based on 70’s rock band merch with lighting and thunder clouds rolling in the background. It’s featured pictures of Alpine, every goofy spastic picture of the cat that his girl could find with her name in the boldest font Bucky had ever seen. Honestly it hurt his eyes, and as Bucky went about describing it to Sam the other man damn near fell out of his chair. 

“That is perfect. No really I think she might be a genius. I’m gonna need a video of you opening that one.” Sam goaded.

“You're not helping.” Bucky growls, guilt twisting in his guts like a worm, but Sam was too busy laughing to try and give a shit. “How am I gonna act surprised now? Let alone be excited?”

“I don’t dude, I guess you need to start taking an acting class.” Sam wiped the tears from his eyes.

~~~~

Bucky watched with crinkled eyes as you opened your gifts from him. A nice wool winter coat because all you owned was a puffer, and while it was adorable on you and always kept you warm you always said you wanted something dressier for date night. And in your stocking an assortment of your favorite treats, skin care you were low on, and that perfume that you had been drooling over since October but always talked yourself out of because of the price tag. Bucky had been making a list since your birthday, keeping tabs on what you lingered on in stores and what you sighed at as you scrolled. He knew his girl and he knew her well. And the way you lit up with every item told him he hit it out of the park. 

“Do you like it Honey?” he asked, his chin propped on his hand. His face couldn’t have been softer or voice more full of love as he watched you glow with joy. 

“I love it. How did you even know what eye cream I use?” 

“It wasn't that hard doll.” Bucky laughed, it sits in a clear box on your vanity of course he knows. 

“Here! Open yours.” You hand him his stocking and the present wrapped in pretty silver paper, looking so excited you may vibrate across the floor. He plastered on his best game face as his stomach did a little flip. Do not ruin this for her Barnes. 

He starts with the stocking. Pulling out body wash and a cologne scented with that smoky bourbon and apple scent you were fond of, along with a small batch roasted coffee and some new gloves. So far so good, and he made sure to kiss you. “I love it honey.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t opened your big one.” you say with a twinkle in your eyes that makes him wanna melt into the floor. Should he tell her, confess he saw it? Risk it and pretend he loves it? 

“You’re right I haven’t.” he corrects himself with a smile picking up the package. It was instantly heavier than he remembered and as he tears open the package he has a brief (very guilty) moment of hoping that maybe he was wrong…

But no there it is. That hideous blanket that he knows instantly from the look on your face he is gonna end up snuggling under for the rest of time just to see you smile the way you are right in this moment. He opened his mouth to tell you thanks as genuinely as he could muster but honey was already biting her bottom lip. A fit of giggles falling out of her. “You already saw it didn’t you!” she managed to get out between chitters. 

“What?! No- I…” 

A pillow from the couch flew at his head. “I knew you would. You little sneak, you do this every year!” Honey chastised as Bucky dodged another swing with the pillow. 

“Hey! Whoa!” Bucky's arms go up in a weak attempt at blocking her little onslaught. “I didn’t mean too!”

“Bullshit James Buchanan!” thump, a hit to his ribs. “You did it on your birthday.” Whack, a bump to the top of his head. “You somehow sniffed out the tickets I bought to Coney Island.” one more swing but this time Bucky caught the pillow, pulling you into his lap with it. 

“I did not do it on purpose!” he defended, but he was beaming. Eyes crinkling in the corner as she glared playfully. “I didn’t!” 

“Yeah, you just somehow stumbled upon the blanket I hid under the laundry in the back of our closet.”

“I was looking for my coat!” 

“On the ground?”

Bucky was caught, because yes he had been looking. He always did. The man couldn’t help it, he always was just too curious. “Yea, I thought so you little rat! Do you like it?” she asks earnestly. And Bucky feels that gnawing feeling again, trying not to let it show on his face. 

“It’s… super fluffy.” he tries to deflect, hating to lie to honey, but her face is already breaking into a grin. What the hell?

“You hate it.” she beams. “It’s hideous huh?”

Bucky frowns, slouching back in his chair. Did she want him to hate it. “Uh, yeah it is..” 

“Good thing it’s not your actual present huh.” 

Bucky's eyes narrow. “You little-” She did this on purpose, hid the most outrageous thing she could find just to punish him for spoiling presents. Clever girl. Weeks of fretting over how he was gonna pull this off and SHE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. With a giggle honey climbs off his lap and back behind the couch, pulling out a slim package from the cavern behind, and Bucky’s face nearly splits in half. 

“Here. Merry Christmas.” She offers him the parcel with a kiss, sitting in his lap as he unwraps it, and he feels his heart flutter a little. It’s a scrapbook. Full of pictures of him, her, Alpine and their friends. Taken by everyone who has known them the last few years. There isn’t a lot, he doesn’t like taking pictures, preferring to take them. So she must have scoured their friends' phones to find all of these and Bucky can feel tear picking the backs of his eyes. Good tears. 

“Thank you Honey. I love it. I love you…”

[abby118]

This still hurts. They often say you can fear things so much you unintentionally will them into existence... one of Viktor's fears was being forgotten, not contributing to the world in a way that would make a difference.

And you might say he still went down in history, which is true, in a way, but they remember the Machine Herald. The one person who knew the truth, who knew Viktor, died with him and is now seen as the saviour, as the defender of tomorrow, rightfully so, but the people of Piltover (and Zaun) don't have the full context of those events.

Jayce would hate being the only one credited for their work. He would never have been able to pursue his dream without Viktor. The dream would not have existed without Viktor and Hextech would never have been invented in the first place had Viktor not stopped Jayce's attempt and supported him. That is what happened in the reality Ekko found himself in; Jayce had died and Viktor soon followed because their lives are inextricably bound. There was no cure for his terminal illness with Jayce gone.

Jayce always saw Viktor as his equal on an intellectual and individual level, he saw him as his partner, regardless of his origins and his disability. There is freedom in being seen as a person beyond an illness but seeing someone completely apart from disability, it's easy to lose sight of how deeply they're affected, not just as a struggle or a motivator but as something that completely alters world view. He often forgot Viktor was from the undercity, maybe not consciously, I do believe Jayce was aware of the problems related to Zaun, and the prejudice directed towards Zaunites, but he never quite grasped the full extent of how it affected Viktor. It took Jayce getting disabled and walking a similar path to Viktor's to truly see the world through his eyes, or as close to it as one can get. It took him a fall into the depths of Zaun and a crushed leg, hitting rock bottom in the literal sense of the word, and then having to climb up into Piltover, just like Viktor did, to realise he had unintentionally been overlooking how different Viktor's world was. All those years he had been facing struggles invisible to Jayce and Jayce could never have known because he saw him as an equal, he was still detached from the experience because loving someone with a disability and living with a disability are two things. That is why his words mattered so much. It wasn't coming only from the place of love (whether platonic or romantic that doesn't matter, really, though I'd say it was clear enough) but lived experience.

People's worst fear is often others seeing them the way they see themselves and Jayce did, and it changed nothing. He still loved him the same. "-but you were never broken, Viktor" didn't mean 'You are one of us', it meant 'You are yourself and that's enough, it has always been enough' and there is a difference in those statements. To someone who, despite believing in his work's worth, didn't particularly value himself, there must have been a difference.

The Hexgates were theirs.

You know what I hate? The irony of Viktor teasing Jayce for signing every page of his notes during their first meeting, with the implication that he is afraid someone else might claim his work for themselves, only for Viktor's name to then be erased from the Hexgates documents by the end of Season 2 and their work attributed to Jayce alone.

Like yes, in retrospect, they should have signed every page together, and maybe even put some unremovable watermak on their blueprints so Viktor's involvement couldn't be ignored.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Lip Gloss

aegon x f!betrothed!reader 

Summary: Your handmaidens offer you a new product and Aegon can’t contain himself around you. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, dry humping, oral(m+f), cum play, aegon corrupting his betrothed, reader is like super innocent 

Authors Note: idrc that they didn’t have lip gloss during this time so they do for this 🥰 z e r o plot like none 💞 not on my w.i.p. bc once again this was a one sitting spontaneous thing - also me posting twice in one day, let alone two days in a row, is ridiculous for me but its the holidays so why not 🤭

Word Count: 2.3k

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

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The second you stepped out of your chambers Aegon's eyes were glued to your lips. At first he had just assumed that you had just run your tongue over them but when they continued to shine as you stepped out of the Keep he was entranced. You led him to the gardens and he was thankful for your guiding hand as his full attention was on your mouth. As you talked he would nod watching the sun hit your lips at different angles. 

“Are you even paying attention, Aegon?” you pout as you stop at a table under a canopied gazebo. He nods absentmindedly and pulls out your chair for you before he takes his seat.

“What is on your lips?” he leans across the table. 

“What do you mean?” you scrunch your brows. 

“They’re so shiny and wet.” Gods he just wants to pull you into the bushes and devour your lips. 

“Oh,” you giggle. “It’s lip gloss. It’s new.” you rub your lips together spreading the gloss around. 

“I know. I would remember if you’ve had that on before.” he watches you pull out a small tube. 

“I don’t really know what it’s made out of but it tastes good and I like the way it looks.” you look at the tube in your hand and hand it out for Aegon. 

“So you eat it?” he tilts his head, twisting the cap. 

“No.” you shake your head with a smile. “It’s just something to put on your lips. They say it helps keep them soft.” he hums, opening the tube and sniffing it.

“It smells very sweet.” his eyes glance up to you in time to see your tongue slide along your bottom lip. 

“It is. That’s why I keep it on me.” you told out your hand for the tube. He places it back in your palm and watches you pull out the small brush and spread more across your lips. “Do you want to try some?” you tilt your head as he continues to stare at your mouth. 

“Sure.” he watches you stand up and come to stand above him. “You can come closer.” he pulls you onto his lap. 

“Aegon.” you gasp looking around. “What if someone sees?” he smirks watching you flush.

“We’re alone.” he reassures as his thumbs rub circles into your waist. “Let me just have some of the gloss you’re wearing.” he smirks, pulling your lips to his. 

He licks along your lips and groans at the taste. His teeth sink into your bottom lip pulling a moan from you that goes straight to his cock. He shoves his tongue into your mouth as his fingers dig into your waist. You slowly start to rock on his lap causing him to chuckle into your mouth. He loves how you get so worked up in a matter of seconds.

You continue to press yourself against him as you mold your lips to his. His hands travel down and squeeze your ass smirking at the soft whine it elicits. Your tongue follows his as he explores you, holding you closer. Your hips continuously roll against his and he starts to rock you faster. 

“Someone’s eager.” he pulls back looking at your lips. “I just wanted to try some of your gloss.” he smiles when you press your lips against his again. 

“I want to kiss you more.” you mumble, burying your fingers in his hair. “I like kissing you.” you start to pepper kisses across his face and delight when his cheeks flush. “Your lips are so soft and you’re so warm.” you scoot closer to him and scrunch your brows. “Do you have your own lip gloss?” you roll your hips and he groans. 

“What do you mean?” he tries to still you but you start to wiggle your hips. “Gods, what are you doing?” he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“This feels like my lip gloss tube.” you reach your hand between the two of you and grab at his inner thigh. 

“Fuck,” he grabs your wrist. 

“How come you get a bigger one?” you pout and he laughs as you shove your hand in his trousers pocket. “Hm?” you tilt your head when you find his pocket empty. You move your hips again and Aegon stands and lifts you with him. 

“We need to go back to the Keep.” he looks down at your flushed cheeks. 

“Why? We just got out here.” you purse your lips. 

“Cause I want to keep kissing you too.” he says lowly. “Do you want me to keep kissing you, sweet girl?” he smiles when you nod quickly. “Will you let me take you back to your chambers?” he searches your eyes. 

“Alone?” the word barely a whisper and he nods. “Okay.” you nod and intertwine your fingers with his. 

He presses his lips to yours once more before he starts to lead you back to the Keep ignoring his cock pressing against his trousers. The second you grabbed him he almost tossed you over his shoulder and brought you to your chambers but he doesn’t want to scare you off. You’re so sweet and innocent and he likes teaching you new things. You trail after him humming softly and rubbing your thumb on his hand. 

“So what flavor is your lip gloss?” you look up at him as he leads you down the hall. 

“I’ll let you try it if you want.” he chuckles when you squeeze his hand. 

“I do but I don’t get where you’re keeping it.” you tilt your head. 

“I’ll tell you when we’re in your chambers.” you smile up at him and lean into his arm as you start down the next hall. He’s thankful your hall is empty and you’re both able to enter your chambers unseen. When he has the doors shut, you’re pulling his lips down to yours instantly. 

“Where is it?” you mumble, grabbing at his thigh again. 

“Fuck,” he grabs your wrist once more. 

“Aegon.” you pout looking up at him. “I let you use mine.” you bring your other hand and grab his thigh again. 

“Sweet girl, that’s my cock.” he groans and you gasp. 

“Well where’s your lip gloss?” you tilt your head, sliding your hand around his thigh and squeezing his cock in the process. “Are you sure this isn’t lip gloss?” you look up at him with scrunched brows as you press your hand against his cock again. 

“You're more than welcome to check.” he chuckles. “Fuck.” he groans as you shove your hand down his trousers. His stomach flexes as your fingers find his leaking tip. 

“You do have lip gloss.” you huff pulling your hand out and showing him your fingers. “See?” you bring your fingers to your lips and he watches as you spread his come across your lips. 

“Oh Gods,” he feels his control slipping. 

“Oh,” you hum as your tongue darts across your lower lip. “Yours tastes a little salty. It’s not bad though.” you suck your bottom lip into your mouth. 

“You’re fucking with me right?” he rasps. “There’s no fucking way you’re a maiden.” your face crumples at his words. 

“I am.” you look up at him confused. “What does my maidenhead have to do with lip gloss?” he searches your face and sees that you’re serious. You start to unlace his trousers and he looks at you with wide eyes as you push them down. 

“What are you- 

“Oh,” you gasp as your eyes are greeted by his cock. “So you make my lip gloss?” you wrap your fingers around his cock. 

“I- No, it’s my, fuck,” he stutters as your thumb swipes at his tip. 

“I want to try it.” your soft words confuse him until he watches you sink to the floor. When your knees meet the ground you wrap your fingers around him once more and bring his tip to your lips. You slowly slide his tip over your lips and smile when your lips become more coated. “See?” you pull back and look up at him as you press your lips together. 

“Look at you.” he shakes his head in disbelief as his fingers trail your jaw. 

“Does it hurt?” you ask softly. 

“Does what?” he watches your eyes flick to his cock. 

“Your cock. It’s red.” you reach out and rub against his tip. 

“It’s cause it really likes the way you touch it.” you look up at him with a smile. 

“Really?” you wrap your fingers around him once more. 

“Really.” he nods his head. “Can I show you what else to do?” you nod up at him. “This kind of lip gloss is edible.” he chuckles. 

“So I can use my tongue more?” you lick your lips. 

“Yes.” he responds quickly. “Sucking on it is nice. Anything you want I’ll like.” he doesn’t even have the composure to show you how to properly suck him off. He just needs you to touch his cock and badly. 

“Okay.” you press your lips to his tip. Your tongue slips out of your mouth and licks at his slit and he whines. “Is that okay?” you pull back nervously. 

“That was amazing.” he nods his head. 

You bring your lips to the side of his cock and press softly down the shaft. Aegon watches as you reach his base and when your tongue licks a trail up to his tip he almost collapses to the ground. You eagerly lap at his tip as more of your gloss comes out and smile when it keeps leaking out. You offer him soft licks, enjoying the saltiness and his breathy pants. You decide to try and suck his tip into your mouth and hum as you start to suck. 

“Oh Gods,” he watches your cheeks hollow as you suck and lick at his tip. You look up at him as your tongue licks at his tip faster the more it leaks. “I’m gunna- I’m,” your mouth is filled with his warmth and you pull back letting it shoot across your mouth and face. “Fuck your perfect,” he groans as you slide his tip along your lips as his pleasure continues to land against you. You look up at him with flushed cheeks and he swipes some of his come from your cheek and spreads it across your lips. 

“Thank you.” you hum before sucking his thumb into your mouth. 

“Stand up, sweet girl. Let me clean you up.” he offers you his hands and leads you to your bathing chambers to find a cloth. He wipes off your face and you offer him a content smile. “Did you know you make lip gloss too?” he chuckles when you tilt your head. 

“I don’t have a cock.” you scrunch your brows. 

“Your little cunny makes it.” he smiles watching your cheeks flush. “Can I see if you have any from helping me?” you nod and he leads you over to your bed. He helps you lay back on the bed and begins to lift your skirts. You clamp your thighs shut and he slowly rubs your stocking clad calves. 

“Will it hurt?” you nibble your lip and look at him. 

“No, it’ll feel really good. If it doesn’t I’ll stop.” he nods his head. “Can I see?” you slowly start to open your legs and he groans seeing the wet patch on your small clothes. 

“Do I have any?” his eyes snap to yours at your soft words. 

“I think you do.” he nods slowly. “I’m just gonna move these to the side.” you watch as he slowly peels your small clothes to the side and you whine when the cool air meets your center. “Your cunny is more wet than your lips were when you left your chambers.” you gasp at his words and bring your fingers between your thighs. 

“This feels different than yours.” you squirm trailing your fingers through your wetness. Aegon watches you with his mouth agape as your thighs flutter around your hand. You bring your hand up to your lips and spread your juices against them. “Mine tastes sweeter than yours.” he groans watching you suck your fingers into your mouth. 

“Can I try?” he settles between your thighs and stares up at you and you nod. His tongue laps at your center before trailing up to your bud and licks against it quickly. 

“Aegon,” you whimper, shaking beneath him. He pushes your legs up to your chest as he starts to lick faster at you. Your hips jerk against his face as he continues to lap at you while small whimpers come from your mouth. “Yes,” your hands grab onto his. “I don’t know what’s- feels so, Aegon,” you whine as the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt washes through you. 

“I like your lip gloss a lot.” he rubs his lips together as he lifts up to look at your heaving chest. “Can I have some more?” he smiles watching your face flush anew. 

“Please, yes.” you nod quickly. He presses your legs open on the bed as he continues to lick at you while you fall apart beneath him. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

i’m speechless 😶 

taglist ✍️ 

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19 @summer-and-sunflowers

[ajortga]

worth it

pairing: samantha carpenter x fem reader

word count: 430 (drabble!)

summary: you try to convince your unconvinced girlfriend to have a little fun on christmas day.

authors note: merry christmas to anyone who celebrates :)

-

“Come on, Sam. Just this once?” You plead, balling up a clump of snow in your hand as you pretend to hit it at her.

It’s been taking the whole afternoon on Christmas day for you to convince her to hit you with a snowball. You had really thought she would cave in by the time your twentieth snowball hit her. She just wouldn’t budge!

“No, Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you right before going out with family. How will I explain that my girlfriend’s injured because I smacked a snowball at her?”

All she earned was a groan; a long one. “That’s the point! Come on, baby! I’m getting cold, and hungry!”

Sam’s brushing the snow off her hair, “Then let’s get inside! You know I’m not going to cave in.” Oh she just might.

“I won’t get hurt! You’re in control and I totally trust that you won’t kill me.”

Your girlfriend rolls her eyes, “Well I always throw too hard. Remember when I tried throwing Tara’s stuffed animal instead of handing it to her and she ended up on the floor?”

“Okay, well, that was because that stuffed animal was giant and was hard as a rock!”

You looked cute. Your breath fogging up in the cold winter air with at least 3 scarfs tied around your neck. (That Sam had forced upon you, not wanting you to freeze.)

Sam sighs, picking a piece of snow up with her mittens as she rolls it up. It was soft and easy to shape, making her gather more. 

You smile at her back, happily that your girlfriend can let you live the moment. 

That is until she turns around with a big snowball. Shit, that was really big. You forgot she was much bigger and taller than you.

She charges up, launching it at you as you squeal and try running away. You hear Sam curse out as your hit in the head and fall to the floor.

-

“So, Y/N, what happened to your head?” Your mother asks, looking at the particularly noticeable red bump on your head with concern.

You look around cluelessly as Sam gives your mother a wide, frightened smile as she covers your head with her hands. You could tell she felt really bad about it and needed to admit what she did to your family. She was freaking out and trying to make it up with cuddles. Instead you had told them you had hit your head on the kitchen counter.

“It was totally worth it,” Sam hears you whisper, hugging her.

[vanillakook]

❥. 　⁓ art: objective or subjective? - j.j.k

you being jungkook’s snippy academic!rival is so funny to him because he knows you are definitely not like that. yes you were incredibly headstrong and worked hard on whatever was put in front of you. he couldn’t deny you were the best at what you did (he was better). that mouth you had on you though? all for show. that’s why he let you dog him out with insults and backhanded compliments in front of everyone during lectures. at the end of the day your classmates have never seen you how he does. a pretty, fucked out, desperate slut who lost all of her self proclaimed morals the moment he touched her.

so yeah, talk circles around him during debates, but wouldn’t let you get your words out later as he plunged his dick down your throat. score higher than him on that math exam, but be prepared to be sprawled out on his lap as he tested how many of his digits you could take. thats why he didn’t care when you ridiculed him in front of the entire class after he very confidently said an opinion you didn’t agree with. todays debate topic was on the idea of art being objective or subjective. as always, you and jungkook never saw eye to eye, always having opinions that counteracted one another.

he sat back in his seat, arms crossed and glaring at you sternly. “art is objective. it needs to be done with structure, have meaning. otherwise how will we pass it down to other generations for them to study? you can’t have an over saturated market of… nothing.” he argued.

you tilted your head. everyone knew this was about to get heated, all scooting to the edge of their seats. “you’re kidding… right? anything can be art. art is personal. it’s fun, its serious, it’s silly, its structured. art can be anything, why would you limit art to educational purposes?”

“to birth more art you have to study art, y/n. you have to learn from what came before you.”

“yes, but it can also be just a fun and creative outlet for people, not everyone wants to study art. some people just want to do it. you write music pieces, i expect you of all people to know what i’m trying to say.” you turned around in your seat, going back to copying the notes from the slides. you knew he hated that. it was a sign of disrespect, that you had no interest in what he had to say. you bit back a smile though, knowing he would make you pay for this later.

“which is why i do it with precision and expertise that i’ve studied and learned, so people can learn from me to continue creating great art.”

your pen stopped in the middle of your notebook. your head swiveled and you scrunched your nose. “who said you create art?” a roar of laughter swept through the students of the lecture, once again you had the upper hand.

“yikes jk, you’re gonna keep taking that?” one of your classmates said.

yes, and he did keep taking it. it was worth it because now look at you, back at his apartment, in his clothes, taking his dick. you tried to crawl up from his large desk and all he did was wrap your perfectly styled hair around his fist and pull you back into him. “wanna run away now huh? i know you’re not stupid enough to do that.” your arch sank deeper while he continued to rock you into his desk. studying materials scattered across the room, pencils, papers, and textbooks being sent flying.

“k-koo please–” you panted out. your hand pushed at his pelvis while he hiked your skirt farther up your waist so he could see your ass clap down on him more. your cunt was so creamy around him, spilling around his cock and creating a lewd scene for the man.

“come on sweetheart, give me all that mouth that you had in class. try saying that stupid little argument now.” he positioned himself at the perfect angle to where he would directly hit your g-spot. that was jungkook for you, precise and perfect, even when ruining his pretty fucktoy’s pussy. his hand shoved your head down into a pile of his notes, watching you squirm with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. he bullied his cock up into that messy cunt of yours, heavy balls slapping against your clit and waiting to be emptied into your womb. for someone who had an argument for everything, all you had spilling out of that mouth now were drools and moans.

“y-you fuck me so good koo, your cock feels so good in me koo! yes! yes! yes! fuck me koo fuck my pussy!” your babbles were muffled by the math notes your head rested on. your pussy showed him just how good he fucking you, sopping and clenching down on him. he was turning that brain and cunt into pure mush. you were at a point of no return. he flipped you like a rag doll and lifted you up on the desk, swiping his papers on the ground with everything else. he had abruptly removed his dick, leaving you empty with a heaving pussy.

“debate me now baby, just us.”

you rolled your eyes and reached for him, yet he took a step back, cock in hand, stroking it slowly while he took in your state. your usual prim and put together appearance now looking like one of a porn stars. hair tossed, skirt hiked, knee high socks pooling low around your calves. “jungkook come on–” he smacked your hand away.

“nah you come on, said art is subjective huh?”

“yeah, because it is, art is personal and if you decide to limit it to just having to be perfect that quite literally challenges the idea of creativity as a whole and– jungkook.” he positioned himself at your entrance, drowning his tip into your wet folds. dragging it up down, circling it around your bud, and prodding at your tight hole.

“what? continue.”

“art is… it’s… fuck i really don’t care about what art is just fuck me koo, please.” your hips moved in circles, teeth sinking into your lip while you watched yourself grind on his tip. “mhm your turn. what’s art kookie?” you didn’t mean for that to come out in a slutty, lewd moan.

“objective. take this pussy for example,” he caught you off guard completely, stuffing you to the brim with dick and holding it up against your soft spot. “i made you baby– i studied you– my work of fucking art.” his hips picked up a violent pace and rocked into you until you were shaking and cumming around his shaft. and so he spilled into his pretty work of art, shooting his seed up inside of you and leaving your womb painted white. “final arguments?” his chest heaved while he was still buried inside of you.

“i-“ you sighed. “i guess art can be objective.”

masterlist

[billysgirllol]

“oh, you tellin’ on me to sundance? that ain’t fair.” those two teaming up on her. “well, i’m a little better at it these days. i do like more veggies than i did as a youngin. i like growin’ ‘em and eatin’ ‘em. green beans, tomatoes, potatoes, there’s a long list.” she softly laughs, which he should know by now since he helped her garden them. “there’s not much right sounding about that story. i think the real goal this person was getting at— was wantin’ to upset us all.” lucy gray’s brows scrunch then a laugh sounds from her. “well, you’ll show ‘em how it’s done hm?” a smirk curling her lips, depending on him to prove what a better prince he can be. he already is doing so and he isn’t even in character yet, it makes her find adoration more and more each time he displays this thoughtful and attentive side to him as he ensures she’s in a safe zone of the lake. “that’s a good name.” smiling in amusement, thinking it’s creative and cute; both the ship name and his pirate prince name. giddy laughter already spilling over, a hand quickly stops herself from ruining the scene as she listens to him playfully cry out about the ‘rocks’ his ship is hitting. biting back laughter especially when he dives under and she’s still brushing her long hair, then letting out an ‘eek!’ when the ship — his head nudging into her belly — ‘knocks’ her over. she playfully falls side ways while hands reach under to bring his face back up so she can hear, “ow, ow! i’ve been struck by a ship! my tail! it’s hurt and i’m stuck under the ship!” feigning pain and a frown, knees bent, flopping her legs in and out of the water to make an injured mermaid tail. playfully frantically rolling around in the water, arms tossing around, pretending she’s trying to get out from being stuck between the ship and the rocks. “someone please help, please save me,”

“i promise, sugar pie.” lucy gray happily speaks, patting his chest gently. finding it adorable of him. “i know it, i guess i didn’t eat as much of veggies as you.” soft laughter escapes her, knowing all that comes down to genes. he must have had a tall dad or mom, she wonders which. “what?? the prince marries someone else?” shocked— she didn’t expect to hear that at all, what a plot twist to the story she didn’t even see coming. “he wasn’t a true prince at all, then.” quite the opposite to her. “alright, you be the pirate prince and i’m the mermaid with a hurt tail fin. who jumps in an’ saves me,” the brunette agrees, grinning in amusement. “that’s terrible, that poor girl deserved better. not did one thing happen bad, but a million more and she watched the love of her life marry someone else before dissolving into foam. heartbreakin’.” she’d like to have a word with that author, that wasn’t even necessary. what’s wrong with him or her? “i’ll hop off your back now before you go in too far…” lucy gray instructs, letting her legs go from his waist, “you swim by me and then you bump into me. you can be the ship first. then you’ll be a prince once i need savin’.” she grins, slipping into the water waist deep where she can still feel the ground. then she sits down, water coming up to her chin now, “i’m a mermaid named rainmist, brushing my hair.” getting into character, brushing her fingers through her locks. putting her feet together, splashing her ‘tail fin’. “out here, enjoying this warm almost summer day.” humming a song, waiting for ship billy to come by and knock her off her pretend rock.

[vengefultakeover]

In Need of a Master

The rock hit my head with thunk and it sent me to the ground, cluthing the side of my skull while everyone rushed around me. I was in the parking lot when the round pebble nearly creacked my skull open. I could see it under my car, a circular opject, smooth, grey and speckled. I shook it off, thinking it was just some accidental debris.

"Are you alright?" I was asked by an elderly woman. There was someone behind them on the phone, calling the cops or maybe an ambulance?

"I'm fine!" I laughed it off, dusting my pants off from the asphalt sticking to the fibers. I scurried over to my car after picking up my groceries and tossed them into the back. The onlookers were shaking their head and their worried faces started to disappear as they went back to their normal lives thining nothing of it. I unlocked my car and then reached under, feeling around for the pebble until I felt it against my finger tips.

"Gotcha!" I said, pulling it out and turning it over in my hand. I felt it prick my finger, a spot of blood appearing on the outside. It disappeared as it quickly absorbed into the stone.

I am in need of a master. Are you the one? I heard behind. I spun around thinking it was right behind me and finding nothing but more rows of cars. I looked down at the pebble and shook my head thinking it may have just been the result of the thing hitting my head. I slid it into my pocket and forgot all about it on the drive home.

My roommate was chugging a glass of water in front of the sink when I dropped all my groceries on the counter. He was shirtless, as usual, and I watched him acknowledge me before going into his room. I was putting things away, the assigned spots around the kitchen, in the cupboard, and the refridgerator. Devin was playing video games in his room and I took this moment of solitude to read a book on the balcony. I looked across the way at the building and remembered the stone in my pocket just as it slid out and bounced along the ground. I picked it up, and slid my fingers over it. I set it down on the table, returning to my book when it vibrated.

"You are my new master." It had a voice and it sounded like my own.

"What the fuck?" I backed away from it, standing there in shock before getting closer again.

"You are my master. I am here to do what you will." It said, vibrating again.

"What are you?" I asked.

"I am a species from another world, subservient to one. My previous master is dead." It vibrated. I picked it up. Turning it over to see if I could find where a speaker may have been hidden.

"What do I do?" I asked.

"I am in need of a host. In order to serve you better I must take on your species' form. I do not normally look like this. This pebble is a camoflauge tactic. I was picked up by someone and thrown in your direction. I apologize, master, for any pain I may have inflicted before making myself known." It vibrated in my hands. I thought of my roommate when it finally clicked he needed a host. He was kind of an asshole, worked out a lot, and barely paid rent on time.

"Maybe Devin?" I said.

"Yes, Master." It said and then remained quiet. I thought it might do something, tell me what to do, but I returned to my book. I would occasionally peer over the top of my book. I took it inside with me when it finally got dark, and placed it on my beside table before doing my nightly routine. I thought maybe it would do something, especially since I could hear Devin's snore through the walls, but it was just there. I even said goodnight to it before clicking off the light and going to sleep.

The following morning it was gone. I thought maybe I had dreamt it. A concussion dream I was experiencing throughout the evening, but I noticed a slimy substance on the floor. I followed it out of my room, careful not to step on it just in case it was something dangerous. The trail led out into the hal and then into Devin's room. The door was wide open and I could hear something happening inside. Devin was asleep when I peered around the corner, but I could see something much larger next to the bed. It was curled up, looking over Devin.

The creature suddenly grew arms, long tentacles that curled and wiggled until they latched on to Devin's body. He was still asleepm his arm above his head and the blanket barely covering him. The thing slithered on top of him, leaving a slimy trail in its wake before the tentacles became taught. The head of the creature pushed against his stomach, now startling Devin awake as he tried to push the thing off in panic. His stomach seemed to open up for the creature, slurping its ways inside of his belly button and with every amount of bulbous form slipped inside the less Devin was struggling. His hands started to slip, suddenly losing control and then slamming against it. Devin's eyes rolled into the back of his head as the creature was almost in, the last of it wriggling and shaking as it forced itself into him. his abs tightened and his belly button slurped as the creature popped inside. Devin's body bounced on the bed and then his back arched before collapsing back into his sleeping pose.

"Devin?" I asked, making myself known and standing at the foot of his bed.

"If that's what you wish to call me, Master." He opened his eyes and looked down at himself.

"Are you okay?" I tilted my head.

"I am perfect. This form will hold me as you wished." He looked over at me, lifting his arm above his head with a smile as I walked around.

"That's awesome." I said.

"I am glad you think so master." He responded. I wanted to touch him so bad. Reach out and worship that body I had been jerking off to night after night.

"What now?" I asked.

"I am yours to control, Master." He said. I won't lie, I loved that he called me Master. I loved it so much that when it came out of Devin's mouth it made my cock bounce. I reached out, touching his chest as he looked at me with those obedient eyes.

"I see you like this body." He flexed it, his pecs tensing under my palms. When I rand my hand down his chest to his abs he tesned them and I jumped on top of him. His cock was pulsing under the blanket.

"I do. You will do anything I say?" I pushed my hands into the blanket and felt his cock. My fingers squeezed it which made his eyes flutter.

"Yes, Master. That feels good." He groaned as I pulled on his balls.

"Okay. As much as I like you calling me Master, don't do it in public." I squeezed his cock and it made him moan.

"Yes, Master." He said as he writhed underneath me.

I leaned in close and whispered, "I want you to beg me to fuck you. Pretend to be Devin." I leaned back, but he didn't let. He gripped my arms and pulled me in close, kissing me.

"Please fuck, bro. I have wanted you inside me since we moved in together." He said, sliding his hand down his body. He pulled himself out from underneath me and perked his ass up.

"Since we moved in, huh?" I said, throbbing.

"Yes. I need that cock inside me." He reached back, pulling his cheeks apart. His hole puckered as I leaned in and gave it a lick. He moaned out, his whole body tensing as I teased him with my tongue. I made him turn around, his mouth drooling as my cock bobbed in front of his face.

"Suck it." I said. His mouth enveloped it and I leaned my head back as I let out a moan and as he sucked I could already feel my balls churning from the pleasure. I pushed him away from me, my cock wet from his saliva.

"Beg." I said. He turned around, his ass up in the air and he pulled his cheeks part for me one last time.

"Please. I need it. This fucking hole needs it, bro. I'm all yours." He was almost whining and it was enough to entice me. I pushed my cock inside, feeling his tight ass against me as it slid into him. He gasped and gripped onto the edged of the bed, the springs creaking as I fucked him hard. His hole felt amazing on my cock, especially when he clenched it and my cock throbbed against it while sliding in and out of him.

"Tell me you want me." I pulled him up, my cock pulsing as I slid my hands around him and along his body. I squeezed his muscles, enjoying them in my hands.

"I want you to fill me up with your fucking load, bro. This ass is yours. This body is yours." He flexed for me as I felt him up, pushing him back down and holding onto his waist as I felt my cock nearing the explosive end. I was fucking him hard when I felt my whole body trembling and I blew my load inside his hole. The image of the creature squeezing into his body flashed in my mind. I was shaking from the adrenaline, from having this power over his body and we collapsed onto the bed. I was on top of him, kissing his back as he smiled.

"I'm happy to please you, Master." He said, my cock still lodged inside his hole. He playfully tightened himself around it and I whimpered, enjoying him. I pushed myself over and looked over at him as he laid there, eyes staring at me.

"Okay, so, I think you're going to be my boyfriend. At least pretend or I don't know." I said, my hand resting on his back as he rest his head on his crossed arms.

"Of course, Master. That will be easy. You're much nicer than any other Master I have had." He said.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Well, from here on out I want you to have a little freedom. Enjoy this body and also blend in as him. He still has to pay rent." I chuckled. The creature didn't understand the joke and laughed too.

Years later and he's still inside. Enjoying the pleasured of his human form and every chance we get, no matter where we are, he reminds me he's inside. Plus, I love having him around even if I am his Master.

[bumblesimagines]

The Lions Claws

Request: Yes or No

Summary: When a Lannister visits King's Landing, he ends up finding entertainment in the King's eldest son.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical HOTD warnings, toxic/manipulative behavior, Lannisters being Lannisters, mentions of bruises, cersei would be proud, aegon might feel a lil ooc

~~~

For a capital meant to represent the Crown, King's Landing was incredibly underwhelming. Even the towering Red Keep sitting atop Aegon's Hill proved lacking with its dull red stone and drum towers casting shadows. He'd expected something akin to Highgarden's serene beauty or the formidable and untouchable Storm's End but the Red Keep was dreary at best. The air felt thick and suffocating as if it were eager to be rid of guests with clouds loomed overhead in varying shades of grey, leaving one wondering if there'd be a drizzle or downpour awaiting them the moment they stepped outside.

"A smile wouldn't kill you," Erwin muttered across from him, yet the grimace on his face spoke for his own thoughts. Homesick was one word to describe the heaviness in their chests. "Your mother wouldn't be pleased if she heard you left a sour impression on Her Majesty and the Hand." 

"Oh, please." (Y/N) spared his cousin a glance before his eyes returned to peering up at the Red Keep from the window of the carriage. Chilling air flowed inside, opposite of the warm breezes that so often clung to the westerlands he knew well. "All she cares to know is if Tyland's made a fool of himself yet, the poor idiot. She may not say it but I know she fears the dragons will eat him alive." 

"I haven't heard of dragons eating lions yet." Erwin's lips quirked up into a grin, showing off his pearly white smile that always made impressionable young ladies swoon. 

Once the carriage came to a stop, Erwin's smile disappeared and he straightened up, casting him one last look before the door was opened. He stepped out first, his bronze hair briefly glittering when the sun managed to peek out from behind a drifting cloud as his eyes swiftly swept over the courtiers and servants around. (Y/N) released a soft sigh and followed him out into the chilly air, the bottom of his feet hitting the gravel beneath and moving around the small grains. 

The Red Keep was equally as boring up close as it was from afar. In its prime, back when Aegon the Conqueror was still around, it may have been a sight for sore eyes; something that truly struck both awe and fear into the hearts of his enemies. But now, with the tightened hold of the Hightowers, it was bleak. Perhaps its beauty drained with the King's ailing health, forever entwined with the bloodline that'd built it. Perhaps historians and poets were simply sucking up to their rulers. 

His eyes naturally glided downward to the pop of color sticking out against the stone. Her Majesty, Queen Alicent Hightower, stood before the grand doors with her children. She was pretty, shockingly youthful, and dressed in a color that clashed with the house she'd married into but was every bit of Hightower. Floor-length, off-the-shoulder, and in a nice shade of green that reminded him of forest leaves during the peak of spring. It allowed for her ivory skin and auburn hair to stick out more. Yet, despite her striking beauty, she was not all he expected. The Hightowers were known for plenty of things, but the woman before him appeared as frail as a withered flower. 

"Thirdborn son of Lady and Lord Lannister, Your Majesty, Your Graces." Erwin's words sounded robotic and slightly practiced, the little armor he wore clinking together when he bent at the waist. Poised, proper, and with a hint of authority, Erwin had always been what every knight dreamed of becoming. "(Y/N) Lannister of Casterly Rock."

And so the charade began.

Allowing a smile to grace his features, (Y/N) stepped forward and dipped his head in respect before lifting it to look her in the eye. She stared back at him, the exhaustion in her eyes subtle yet he noticed it immediately. She had many duties now with her husband bedridden. How would she fare, he wondered, when he passed. "Your Majesty, it is an honor to make your acquaintance." He recited the words his mother had ingrained in his head, the memory so clear he could practically see her glowering at him. "I hope my older brother has done House Lannister justice during his time here."

"Ser Tyland has done us a great service as our master of ships." Queen Alicent smiled politely, though the underlying tone in her voice spoke plainly: he was essentially useless without the need for a naval fleet, though most masters of ships were. He imagined Tyland offered bits and pieces of advice now and again during meetings. He'd always been a little wiser than Jason. "I pray the trip here from Casterly Rock wasn't weariful. Your apartments have been arranged already if you wish to rest."

"You are most generous, Your Majesty." It was the bare minimum of a host but good manners and thankful words often went a long way, especially with prideful nobles. However, Queen Alicent hardly seemed keen on compliments, or his presence, for that matter.

"I'm afraid I have pressing matters to attend to but I'm certain the Princes Aegon and Aemond will be pleased to refresh your memory of the castle." Queen Alicent tilted her head toward the three Targaryens lined up beside her, her smile notably falling when she eyed the eldest of the bunch before it returned just as quickly to bid them farewell. Four pairs of violet eyes tracked her movements, one pair with a little more longing than the other.

The eldest, Prince Aegon, stood a little shorter than his lanky brother and he lacked the rigid posture and poise of a young man of his station; his shoulders were lowered and his knees bent slightly, though, from the lazy smirk on his face, it was all purposeful. An attempt to irritate his mother, (Y/N) assumed given the swift exchange between them. Prince Aegon was a curious fellow, (Y/N) decided then and there.

His hair was wavy like his mother's but unkept and messy, matching his disheveled clothes that'd turn any parent red with embarrassment. Pale violet eyes watched him, glinting with hunger, but for violence or affection, (Y/N) hadn't deduced yet. Prince Aegon wanted others to fear him, to feel intimidated by his title, judging by the way his eyes narrowed challengingly. He reminded (Y/N) of the juvenile lions back home, the teenagers torn between proving themselves or running back to their mother's side.

Prince Aemond, on the other hand, was every bit of a royal son. His back remained erect and his shoulders were squared, the height he had over his siblings allowing him to appear as if he were towering over them. His hair was straight and reached past his shoulders, seemingly brushed regularly unlike Prince Aegon's. His singular eye had unease settling in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach, piercing and scrutinizing as if searching for a flaw or weakness to pounce upon. Gossip and news spread like wildfire across Westeros, so when the King's son lost an eye to his own nephew during a scuffle, the news reached Casterly Rock within a few days. It hardly surprised him Prince Aemond seemed guarded.

Beside Prince Aemond stood Queen Alicent's only daughter and perhaps the most beloved amongst the smallfolk, Princess Helaena. She pointedly stared at the cobbled floor beneath her feet, her lips pressed into a thin line as she shifted her weight from foot to foot with a slight sway. (Y/N) knew her to be of a gentler, almost odd disposition, but her tender-heartedness won over the smallfolk more than her elder sister ever had. She seemed to be a mix of her two brothers with her hair not quite wavy yet not quite straight and her almost slouching stance. A light pink had dusted her round cheeks from the cold and her nose crinkled ever so slightly with each breeze.

Princess Helaena seemed too gentle of a girl to bother and (Y/N) had an inkling Prince Aemond's patience ran thin, which only left the would-be heir as (Y/N)'s form of entertainment for the duration of his stay. His gaze glided over to the prince in question, the corners of his lips threatening to twitch up into a smile. There was nothing more he loved than a lordling (or in this case, a princeling) to toy with. Lannisters were known for playing with their food.

"Your Grace," (Y/N) moved up the steps swiftly, amused at the way Prince Aegon's brows raised and his lips turned downward with a perplexed frown. His hands reached out to smooth his palms over the sleeves of Prince Aegon's coat, his ears picking up the faint sigh from his cousin behind him. Prince Aegon visibly flinched at his touch. "I recall we once played together as children. I hope we can catch up in due time; you must have many stories to tell of your childhood here. You can tell me of the dragons housed in the Dragonpit, and if it interests you, I can tell you of the lions we keep in Casterly Rock." 

Prince Aegon blinked, his adams apple bobbing with a harsh swallow. "I-"

"I look forward to it, Your Grace, but I am dreadfully tired." The facade already began to crack. The prince seemed utterly baffled by his sudden attention. His fingers fidgeted at his sides and his posture straightened with uncertainty. "I hope to see you at supper."

With each passing day, it felt as if the Red Keep were trying to suffocate him with boredom. The other courtiers were as predictable as expected, flocking to him with an eagerness to be favored by a Lannister whilst simultaneously hoping to hear anything they could whisper about in the halls. Gossip wasn't new to him; he loved indulging in it back home, often while sprawled out over a couch with his giggling gaggle of friends. But the Red Keep... he simply despised it.

At the very least, the chaos of the Targaryen family kept him from smashing his head into the nearest wall.

Perched on a stone railing overlooking the training yard, (Y/N) watched the lordlings and pages train under the supervision of Ser Criston Cole and other on-looking knights who had little to do. His eyes tracked Prince Aemond's stride, his chin cocked upward and smile challenging, but the only one daring enough to step forward. (Y/N) hadn't cared to figure out whether his confidence was merely a charade to mask the wounds of a child once tormented by his peers or as real as the greed in everyone around them. 

He'd concluded the royal children were like bruises, purple and green with hints of yellow, fresh and tender. If he lingered on one for long enough, pressed and prodded with enough force, their pain would be revealed for his eyes to observe. Prince Aemond hid himself well enough through cold stares and calculated words, but the days that'd passed had allowed (Y/N) to view the little boy beneath the young man. Whenever he passed the ladies of the court, he'd adjust his eyepatch and turn his gaze away from them to subtly hide his face from sight. If Prince Aegon bored him, he considered Prince Aemond as his next plaything. 

The only one emboldened enough to step out to face the tall prince had been none other than his older brother, though, by the way he staggered and cackled as if everything were one big joke, it could only be assumed he'd had one too many drinks. Prince Aegon's blatant disregard for their training had his brother rolling his eyes, his chest rising and falling with a heavy exhale. His antics were common enough for Ser Criston to stare at him with hardly disguised disappointment, his hands resting on his hips like a father ready to scold his troublesome child. 

"If only he were a jester and not a prince." (Y/N) murmured with a quiet sigh. He could bargain for a jester, offer a trade to Her Majesty and the Hand so there'd be no losing side but princes were like the gold in the mines of the westerlands. They had to be shaped and formed, just as any other person, but they had to feel as if everything they did was of their own accord. 

A sweet Dornish red swirled around in his mouth, his attention locked on the stumbling prince that by all means should've been heir had it not been for his father's stubbornness. Prince Aegon moved awkwardly in the chest plate and the sword swung clumsily in his hands yet his laughter continued bouncing off the walls. It was childish and carefree, unlike his brother's scowl which deepened by the minute. Prince Aemond spared Ser Criston a glance and then charged at his brother, his movements akin to a fluid dance as swords clashed. Prince Aegon struggled to keep up, too inebriated to focus clearly, thus leading to his loss. 

Swiftly, Prince Aemond ended the brief spar by slamming the hilt of his sword into his brother's face, legs leading him backward as Prince Aegon fell onto the gravel with a pained cry. Ser Criston sprang into action, shooting the younger prince a disapproving look over his shoulder before he reached out toward Prince Aegon, his words lost to the wind. The knights closest to them moved to help Prince Aegon onto his feet but once the prince found his footing, he shrugged away their hands and sneered at them. His cheeks, once pink from the many drinks, turned into a deeper shade of red that spread to his ears. Humiliated, though certainly not for the first time. 

(Y/N) swung his legs over the railing and slid off it, kicking up hints of dust when he touched the ground. He savored the last few droplets of his wine and set the cup aside with a satisfied sigh. His legs carried him into the hallway and down a set of stairs, his mind still unfamiliar with the castle but he'd memorized the places he wished to visit the most. One being Prince Aegon's bedchambers, which he shared with his sister-wife and down the hall from the shared room of their little children. He lingered by the railings overlooking the inner courtyard until Prince Aegon appeared, his figures disappearing into his bedchambers with a tentative young maester trailing after him. 

The guards positioned outside the door allowed him in without so much as a glance, a monotone voice gruffly calling out his name before the doors rattled shut. (Y/N) scanned the bedchambers but found nothing of interest apart from shrouds and other fabrics with embroidered insects and the maid cleaning a wine stain off the floor, so he settled his attention onto the silently fuming prince and the maester attempting to work around his pout. 

"What is it?" Prince Aegon questioned, wincing by the end of his sentence which only fueled his anger. 

"I saw what happened, Your Grace." (Y/N) spoke gently, crossing the distance without much of a hurry and eyeing the blossoming bruise spreading across his cheek. The hit had cracked open the corner of his lip, leaving it raw and speckled with blood the maester attempted to clean. (Y/N) allowed his hand to brush over Prince Aegon's shoulder in a comforting manner, his other hand dismissing the maester with a flick of his wrist. "I wished to see if you were alright." 

"Obviously I'm not." Aegon spat, bristling like a cub and pouring himself a cup of wine to swallow down with a cringe. His cut and cheek no doubt ached from his actions, and (Y/N) withheld the urge to snort. Foolish and impulsive, acting on his emotions without thinking twice about the outcomes. A funny little princeling.

"Bring us some sweets." (Y/N) angled his head toward the maid, her scrubbing absentminded enough to tell him she'd been hoping to eavesdrop on the conversation between two noblemen. She raised her head at him, a red curl slipping free from her loosely thrown-together bun and tapping lightly against her cheek. She stared at him for a minute too long, likely irked by a stranger giving her orders, but she stood up regardless with the stained rag in hand. "Thank you, darling." She paused, her irritation soothing over and her head dipped bashfully.

(Y/N) settled down on the chair beside the prince and picked up the napkin the maester had been using, folding it over his index finger and dabbing lightly at Prince Aegon's lip. His brows, a darker shade than his snowy locks, furrowed again and his lips twitched, threatening to pull into a frown that'd certainly sting. 

"Are all westermen as strange as you?"

"Strange is one word for it, I suppose. Most people use 'kind' or 'empathetic', Your Grace." (Y/N) leaned back into the cushion of his seat, withdrawing his hand and setting the napkin aside. His violet hues flickered elsewhere with a hint of guilt and annoyance at his words, his fingers releasing the cup to rest over his thighs in fists. 

"Aegon," He said quietly, uncertainty lacing his words. "Call me Aegon."

"Aegon," (Y/N) echoed with a coo, studying the young man before him with hawk eyes. He searched his body, his facial features, for movements and emotions, for any fidgeting or ticks that'd reveal things his voice refused to. "It must be hard having the name of an ancestor as great as Aegon the Conquerer. You must feel pressured."

Aegon scoffed, and just like that, he revealed his pain. It'd been clear for (Y/N) to see since the first day he arrived, but the assumption slowly developed over the passing days; Queen Alicent's weariness at the mere mention of him, the heavy exhales from the Hand, the distaste that crossed the features of those who knew him well when he passed them in the halls. He'd likely been under some pressure as a boy, but he'd fucked up enough times to be properly labeled a disappointment, a bother. He knew it, too. He carried it on his shoulders, masking it by attempting to appear unbothered and lazy. 

(Y/N) made no comment on it. Instead, he offered him a smile and caught the footsteps approaching the door. "You're a pretty prince, Aegon. Has anyone ever told you that?" The answer came in the form of two widened eyes staring at him as if he'd grown two heads. It was true, if one squinted past the excessive drinking and snarky words. He had his mother's beauty and the mystique of Targaryens.

The maid shuffled inside with a tray and approached the small round table they sat at, giving them the faintest of smiles as she gingerly set the tray down and began placing plates of sweets on the table. She'd even brought two teacups and a kettle, the faint smell of chamomile tea filling the air when she poured it into the two cups. "That'll be all." (Y/N) said, ensuring his fingers grazed against the back of her hand when she set the teacup in front of him. Her freckled cheeks flushed and she gathered the now empty tray into her hands, sneaking glances over her shoulder as she left. 

"I hope you ate before you indulged." (Y/N) ignored the small silver fork resting beside a slice of cake and broke off a piece with his pinched fingers, sticky and clinging to his fingertips. He debated his next movements, considering the possible outcomes and reactions before his unquenchable curiosity won. 

Smiling once more, (Y/N) stuck his arm out toward Aegon and held the piece of cake up to his lips. Aegon blinked, eyes flickering wildly between him and his fingers, his brows slowly furrowing. Aegon, too, debated his next movements, his hands unfurling to press his palms into his thighs and adams apple bobbing with a swallow. 

When (Y/N) had been a boy, he inquired one of the lion-keepers about how they went about taming beasts. The wrinkled old man had chuckled at his questions, his hand lowering to affectionately pat the top of his head. He'd told him, plainly, that certain beasts could never be tamed, beasts like lions or dragons. But, he'd added with a grin, beasts like humans certainly could. At his young age, (Y/N) found his words to be a riddle he couldn't be bothered to decipher, and so he'd forgotten the question in favor of watching the caged felines.

He learned with age that his words rang true.

To tame any beast, two-legged or not, you had to have a certain amount of patience and keen eyes. A level of trust had to be built, whether through food, water, shelter, or gentle words, that would ease them into being comfortable around your presence. You had to push, and really push, against the boundaries of the beast, threatening to cross the unspoken line until they reacted, favorably or not. Beasts were complicated creatures but the same across all species. And so the princeling before him made up his mind about the crossed boundary.

Tentatively, Aegon closed the space and opened his mouth, his eyes flickering with something familiar, a teasing hunger. His lips closed around his finger, that challenging spark returning and mixing feverishly with the hunger. The tip of his tongue slid along (Y/N)'s finger, collecting crumbs and sticky residue. Honey, he assumed, tugging his finger back with a pop that had the corners of Aegon's mouth lifting. He winced again and unconsciously licked the cut.

"What will your mother say of what happened?" He asked, knowing it'd sour Aegon's mood immediately to bring up the subject of Queen Alicent, but he kept him from shutting down by entertaining him. The same saliva-coated finger broke off another piece of the sweet treat, this time rising to his own mouth. He mimicked Aegon's previous actions, watched the delight and intrigue that briefly sparked across his face. Predictable but still entertaining. 

"Nothing," He answered, eyes locked on (Y/N)'s lips and ears twitching with the pop that followed. Aegon slumped back into the chair and dragged his fingers over the bruise, his brows twitching involuntarily when he pressed on it. His shoulders drooped with a heavy, ticked-off sigh, and he reached for one of the tea cups. He brought it to his lips and then hesitated, inhaling the steam and deciding against drinking it. 

A hum rumbled in the back of his throat, a tickle in the back of his head eager to test the young man across from him. "Well, I should leave you to rest." He said, curling his hand around a napkin to dry his finger before he stood up. 

"Wait!" Aegon blurted out, his chair scraping against the stone floor when he shot up from it, the force nearly making him barrel right into (Y/N)'s chest. Amusement curled around him but he held back the grin to tilt his head at him curiously. Those deprived of attention often sought it out in any way possible, so (Y/N) hardly found himself surprised when Aegon's hand curled around his wrist firmly. "You- You wished to know about the Dragonpit, right?" His tone reeked of desperation. 

"That can wait, Your Grace. You've had a rough evening." (Y/N) spoke soothingly, fingertips brushing along Aegon's jaw. They crept upward toward his uninjured cheek, digging into his porcelain skin. He wondered how hard Aegon would break if he pressed hard enough, if he formed cracks or let him shatter. He watched the pale skin redden under his touch, a color that faded slowly. 

"I-"

"It's alright, Aegon." (Y/N) assured him, soaking up the hopelessness in his eyes. He leaned forward and ghosted his lips along the bridge of his nose before planting a kiss on the skin between his eyebrows. Aegon practically melted beneath his touch. Such easy prey. "We have plenty of time to catch up."

[revelboo]

Hello:33 I hope you're fine and well you always give your best in your writing and they are sooo fine Damn 😩🤌🏻✨ you're cooking🗣️💥😝 so if you're in the mood and have free time BC I know you're busy asf, here's my request BC I miss my husband (wifey) ratchet 😭✨🤌🏻😩😝

REVEL FEED ME ANOTHER CHAPTER OF RATCHET AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!

Please (⁠づ⁠｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠づ

Sure

The Weakends Pt 11

TFP Ratchet x Reader

• Coming up for air when he rests his helm against your forehead, you’re dimly aware of his optics sliding sideways when Fowler mutters about you stretching the definition of human-Cybertronian relations with that as he stalks off. Of Ratchet making a low, rumbling sound that’s almost a growl as his head turns to track the other human and you reach to tip his face back toward you. “I don’t care what he thinks, but we probably shouldn’t be making out right here. It’s about time for the kids to get out of school,” you say, lips brushing his as you speak. And his big frame shudders against you, his hands gripping your butt to lift you off your feet and then your back hits the wall as his mouth comes down on yours as if just to spite Fowler.

• Pinning you, his servos tighten on your hip as his other hand reaches up to cup your face, tipping it up. Knows you’re right, that he should take this somewhere private, but he’s almost afraid you might come to your senses and put a stop to this if he lets up. And he needs this, you, so bad it hurts. To find out you care about him that way, that you see him? See anything besides the gruff team medic? It means everything. “Ah, Doc. Ew.” Feels you press your face against his neck, trying not to laugh as he glares over his shoulder at Smokescreen. “Get out,” he growls, now sure you’re laughing as you hook your legs around his waist and he smacks his palm against the wall behind you because you’re wiggling against him, hot breath on the mesh of his neck.

• “I told you,” you whisper, brushing your mouth against his neck because it makes him vent raggedly when you do. And then he’s tipping your head up, servos on your chin. Those lovely blue optics staring down at you in frustration and need. Tempting you to see where this goes. His thumb is against your bottom lip and you tilt your head to nip at him with your teeth, sucking on the tip and his hips rock against you as he makes a noise. Encouraging you to be wicked as you hear Smokescreen leaving, still rambling about fragging in the common area. The doc’s lips are slightly parted as you suck on his thumb, tongue sliding against him. Teasing. “We could make our own definition of human-Cybertronian relations,” you say before nipping him again. Face heating, you’re aware that you’ve never been good at this. At seduction or flirting, but you want this. Want him and need him to know it.

• “Primus,” he growls as you stare up at him with those eyes and suck on his servo again, the wet heat and suction of your mouth, the feel of your tongue sliding against him going straight to his spike. Imagining you doing that to his spike. “You’re trying to kill me.” Giving in to impulse and rocking himself against you, hating the layers of clothing and his plating between you. Had never been an exhibitionist before, still isn’t, but he’s tempted to take you right there. The kids, though. Groaning, he grips your butt in his hands ignoring your little noise of protest before you occupy that soft mouth by stroking over the mesh of his neck as he tries to walk you back to his quarters. Hearing the musical sound of your laughter again at his awkward shuffle.

• Your back hits the door to the quarters and you arch to find his mouth again when he tries to get the door open. Distracting him as the big medic growls at you and pins you more firmly. Legs tightening around him as he moves against you, rocking himself when you wiggle in his grip, chasing that friction and heat. Feeling like a teenager fooling around for the first time, groping and grinding through your clothes. “Please, doc,” you moan against his lips, knowing he hates the nickname and he takes advantage, glossa stealing inside. Clinging to him, hips bucking as he claims your mouth with all that pent up frustration, servos almost bruising on your hips.

Previous

[vi-is-badass]

@lady-griffin I agree with most of what you said here, but I definitely disagree that Vi was motivated by revenge when it comes to Silco. She believed in season 1 that taking out Silco was the only way to get her sister back.

I think this is clear in almost every action she takes. When she attacks Sevika in episode 5 she calls her a traitor but when she finally has her on the ground the only thing she asks about is her sister, not Silco. She went after Sevika because she knows she's one of the last people who saw Powder that night and might know what became of her.

In episode 8 when she's talking with Caitlyn in her bedroom she talks about that night as a failure on her part to protect her sister from Silco.

In episode 9 when she fights Sevika for the second time it's because she thinks that to get her sister she has to get rid of Silco and to do that she has to take out Sevika, his right hand man.

In that same episode when Vi talks about what gets her through prison it's the thought of getting back to Jinx, not getting revenge on Silco.

Her motives for the raid with Jayce are personal, but I don't believe revenge is what motivates her. If she was given the opportunity to live with her sister away from Zaun and Pitlover-- away from Silco-- I think there is a chance she would have taken it because at this point especially she’s motivated by her desire to protect and fear of losing those she loves.

Vi is a character that tries to do the right thing-- she does have a "good heart"-- but her trauma and the fact that she's constantly put between a rock and a hard place make it so she frequently makes the wrong decision or her decisions rarely pan out. (Vi was trying to mitigate casualties and damage when she became an enforcer, but it was definitely the wrong decision. Tries to do the right thing, but makes the wrong decision)

But everything you said in your last response about the lack of exploration of Vi's perspective on the grey, Caitlyn's descent, and the increasing brutality of the strike team are things that are sorely missing from the show. (my initial response was meant to counter the idea that Vi was out of character in act 1)

While this lack of exploration doesn't make her actions in act 1 out of character, I do believe it makes certain beats not hit as hard as they could have (like you mentioned with the scene where she stops Caitlyn from at shooting Isha and Jinx) and in some cases really hurt the "resolution" for her character in act 3.

I especially agree with your point about Vi turning the "I thought you were different" back on Caitlyn because her thoughts on Caitlyn's actions in act 1 and occupation of Zaun are woefully underexplored.

We only really get insight on her guilt over it all in the montage at the start of episode 5. She feels responsible for what Caitlyn has become and for being a part of the start of something that turned into an oppressive occupation of her people.

But we don't get true insight into her feelings on Caitlyn’s role as the commander, the checkpoints, the detainments that lack adequate cause, the brutality and oppression disguised behind a thin veneer of justice.

And I think this is a huge missed opportunity because of just how Vi falling for Caitlyn was framed in season 1.

Vi falls for Caitlyn in season 1 because Caitlyn chose to fight for her and the undercity. She didn’t have to fight— she had nothing to gain, nothing to lose if she didn't fight like everyone in the undercity— and yet she chose to fight anyway.

Caitlyn was genuine in her desire to help and fight against a system she learned through her connection to Vi has oppressed the people of the undercity. She also sees what Vi believes is the worst of her during the bedroom scene and still reaches for Vi anyway, giving her empathy and grace that has never been afforded to her before.

But then all of that crumbles in season 2. Caitlyn becomes the worst version of herself out of grief and the sudden immense responsibility thrust upon her shoulders and actively becomes the face of the oppression Vi and her people face. Caitlyn no longer wants to fight corruption and actively participates in it. Gone is the empathy and understanding of season 1. Gone is that desire to fight for Vi and the undercity that made her fall in love in the first place.

There isn't really any exploration of the betrayal that might have felt like because like you said Vi really did think that Caitlyn was different.

(Side note: I really love the idea of Vi repeating Caitlyn's justification for using the grey to Jinx. That would have been a fantastic way of showing that Vi was losing herself. Honestly every point you made in that last response was spot on. I also agree with your take on the hellfire montage. The lyrics definitely fit Vi and her perspective much more than Caitlyn's while the visuals are from Caitlyn's persepctive)

Caitlyn and Vi weaponizing toxic air pollution against the undercity and then Jinx and Sevika using Janna’s temple to recreate her legendary miracle by blowing that toxic air back onto Piltover.

Jinx (and Sevika) just became the hero Zaun needs.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Glory Hallelujah

Written for day 25 of the @steddieholidaydrabbles and the 12 Days of Christmas bonus card of the @steddiebingo

Prompts: Christmas & Glory Hole

Rated: E

Tags: Post-Vecna; Everybody Lives; Rockstar Eddie; Sex Clubs; Glory Holes; Blowjobs; Reunions

Notes: I did a poll to determine which prompt from the bingo card I should combine with the Christmas prompt of the holiday drabbles. Merry Dick-mas, you filthy heathens, I love all of you! ❤️

Eddie isn’t sure what the correct word for someone like him is. He’s been pondering it over four beers now, watching the bored-looking girl at the center of the room spin around her pole, but without any success. 

Pathetic springs to mind, but that isn't strong enough. There must be a stronger word than pathetic for someone spending Christmas at a goddamn sex club. But he was lonely, and he had nowhere to go, so it seemed like a good idea. 

It wasn’t. The place is glaringly empty, even Indy’s kink scene having better places to be on this most magical of nights.

He should’ve gone to Kentucky with Wayne. 

Except this is the old guy’s first time meeting his girlfriend’s family, and Eddie can just imagine how this would’ve played out if he’d tagged along.

Hi, I’m Eddie, Wayne’s nephew. Yeah, I might look familiar. Yeah, I was on the cover of Rolling Stone last month. Thanks, I’m happy your grandkids like my music. Yeah, no, I didn’t commit those satanic murders, that was- Listen, can we talk about my uncle? 

So, instead, here he is. 

Fuck, he hasn’t felt this miserable and mad at himself since that one time he told Steve Harrington to get back with his girl while inconspicuously ogling the guy’s sweaty chest hair under his own battle vest. 

Eddie sighs, getting up from his chair. He might as well head home while he still has some self-respect left.

He's almost at the exit when something catches his eye. There's a row of stalls in the wall, each with its own lockable door. 

The light over one is on. 

There's no fucking way, he thinks, even as his feet carry him right over and into the adjacent cabin. Someone probably forgot to kill the light. There's no fucking way anyone is in there. That would be at least as pathetic as a fucking rock star going to a fucking sex club on fucking Christmas day because he's a depressed moron. 

Still, he goes in, locks the door and pulls down his pants. The hole in the wall stares back at him like it's trying to mock him. Eddie tells himself to stop being silly. 

Worst case scenario is he stands here with his limp dick poking through a hole in the wall like an idiot. Nobody will know, because nobody’s there. Best case scenario is he gets to blow off some steam. 

Nothing happens. 

Eddie sighs and is just about to pull out when suddenly, there's movement. His heart leaps into his throat. He hears it all through the thin wall. A sharp intake of breath, like whoever is on the other side is just as surprised as him. They probably are. They've probably been in there a while. Then, the thud of knees hitting the floor. Eddie has just enough time to think that the mystery person must be really eager for this before he feels soft, warm lips wrapping around his tip. 

Whoever the person in the other stall is, they sure know what they’re doing. They start out gently, slowly sliding Eddie’s swelling cock in and out of that deliciously warm mouth, tongue teasing the length of him. Once he's fully hard, the tongue is joined by a hand, alternating soft licks with firm strokes, and Eddie feels something urgent and hot build at the base of his spine. He moans, fingers grasping the top of the stall for leverage as his hips buck, trying to get closer to that mouth even with the wall between them. 

They keep this up for several minutes. Eddie tries to keep his voice down, but it seems like each of his groans and whimpers spurs the other person on. And then, they scrape their teeth over his tip, and a startled curse escapes his lips, and they swallow him all the way down, as far as the wall allows. 

Eddie comes with a hoarse shout, spilling hot and wet into that mouth. The other person doesn’t pull away. Eddie feels their throat constricting around him as they swallow.

“Fuuuck,” Eddie groans, forehead sagging against the wall. His arms feel like jelly from supporting his weight. “Shit. Jesus. Shitshitshit.” 

And that is when the other person pulls off. 

“Eddie, if it’s you, please come out?” 

“Wait a sec,” says a voice. A voice garbled and wrecked from sucking his cock and swallowing his come. A voice that Eddie hasn’t heard in ten years.

Eddie’s heart stops. On the other side of the wall, a door opens.

“Eddie?” Right outside his own door. “Shit, is that really you?”

This isn’t real. It’s some bizarre, orgasm-induced pipe dream brought about by too much beer and seasonal depression. There’s no way the person outside is who Eddie thinks he is. 

He does. At least he remembers to pull up his pants first.

The door swings open, and there he is. Steve Harrington, ten years older but no less gorgeous, clad in skintight denim and a silky purple shirt, lips turned up into a delighted smile. They’re still swollen and shiny. 

“I knew it!” he cheers, pulling Eddie into a hug. “Nobody else babbles curses like that.”

Eddie grunts. Steve pulls back, holding him at arm’s length. 

“Looking good,” he smiles. “Even better than on that Rolling Stone cover. How have you been, man? Dustin said you talk sometimes, but you never-” 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Eddie blurts. His knees are wobbly and his head is spinning. “You aren’t- … You just sucked my- … You’re straight!” 

Steve laughs, and it’s every bit as breathtaking as Eddie remembers. 

“Yeah, no, I figured that out a while ago. Which you would know, if you’d just kept in touch.” He winks right into Eddie’s gobsmacked face, then takes him by the shoulder and steers him towards the bar. “How about you buy me a drink? We can celebrate this little Christmas miracle, and I’ll bring you up to speed.” 

More holiday drabbles

More Steddie Bingo

[jordanstrophe]

Caretaker's a hired kidnapper for whumper.

Caretaker has no idea what happens to whumpee after they turn them in. Sometimes they wonder if it's unspeakable; but this is caretaker's job and whumper pays well.

They have nothing personal against whumpee. They try to make the transportation go smoothly with as little damage as possible.

"Watch the trunk door, dear. I don't want to hit your head."

"Do you want music? It's going to be a long ride..."

"I'm not going to hurt you. Stop shouting, now."

"Rope's too tight? Sorry, let me fix that. Hands up, please."

"Stop trying to hurt me or I might hurt you. I don't want to, but I will."

"It's cold, here's a blanket. No, don't throw it at me- Put that rock down, I'm just trying to give you a blanket-"

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo Ending Four: Little Omega

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes, blood

Note: This is very late and not very good, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless! 

The zoo was bathed in a pale white under the glow of the full moon. You had never been here this late and you were beginning to believe it was a bad idea. The lions and hyenas had kept you, and you had to feed the wolves still.

The door to the exhibit creaked noisily as you opened it, carrying a bucket of steaks. You had to hurry, the zoo had already closed an hour ago. 

Unsurprisingly, Jack was waiting for you. He paced in front of the door and, when it opened, he turned to face you with childlike excitement.

You laughed at his expression and pulled a steak out of the bucket, handing it over to him. “Look, Jack, I have to be fast tonight…”

Jack looked offended.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you guys,” you reassured him, “I’m just running late.”

You peered around the clearing, not surprised to see it deserted, “Where are the other wolves then? Are they in the woods or down by the river?”

Jack looked startled, “He didn’t tell you?”

“Who didn’t tell me what?” you blinked, confused.

Staring at the ground as though thinking something over, Jack finally said, “I take you to them. Follow me.”

“Okay!” you said cheerfully. You held the bucket in both hands as you followed Jack into the woods.

You were a little nervous to face the other wolves again. They didn’t seem to like you much, but you secretly trusted Jack to defend you if necessary.

The trek through the woods was a long one, since you kept tripping over exposed tree roots the deeper in you got. Finally, it opened up into a clearing overlooking the river.

“What the hell happened here?”

Copious amounts of blood coated the tree trunks, the large rock, and the grass of the clearing. The grass itself was soaked in it, turned entirely red in patches. There were streaks of blood as if something was dragged and the rock had an ominous dark patch as though someone’s head had been bashed against it.

You stared at the horrifying display, unable to scream like you so desperately wanted to due to the lack of air in your lungs. Seeing all the red made you feel as though the air had been punched out of you.

“Jack, what happened?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jack stared blankly at you, “They hurt you.”

“SO YOU KILLED THEM?” you screamed.

Jack looked like a kicked puppy, his ears flat against his head as he ducked, as though afraid you might hit him. A surge of guilt ran through you before you remembered what he did.

“This is insane,” you murmured, “Are all of them dead?”

“Yes,” Jack replied.

It was all so brutal… you felt yourself shutting down, gasping for breath as though there was little oxygen left in the air. Jack did this? Sweet Jack who followed you around like a lost puppy?

“Are you going to kill me?” you whimpered.

His eyes went wide, “No!”

Tears began to flow freely from your eyes and you let out a small sob. Sure, you hadn’t liked the other wolves much, but to think they were all dead…

“I need to go,” you whispered, dropping the bucket of steaks and running blindly back through the woods. You tripped over a tree root and went sprawling across the grass. To your horror, even here there were streaks of blood inches from your face, as though someone had been injured but tried to escape.

You picked yourself back up, feeling sick, and ran across the clearing to the exhibit door. You pulled hard on the handle but it refused to move. Suddenly, the floodlights to the zoo turned off, bathing you in moonlight alone.

Someone’s doing this. You realized quickly. It’s an electric lock, so someone manually locked the door from the control center.

Tearfully, you turned around and found yourself face to face with Jack. He looked like Christmas had come early.

His large hand took your smaller one into his own, his claws carefully moved out of the way so they did not scrape your skin. He examined your hand closely, intrigued by what he saw.

“Omega,” he supplied eagerly.

“Huh?”

“My little omega,” he crooned, a look on his face you’d never seen before. His pupils were dilated, eyes wide open, and a little drool ran down his chin. He leaned in close, trapping you against the door, and took a deep sniff of your scent.

“Mate,” he said, “My mate.”

“Jack, let me go,” you demanded as you tried to extract your hand from his tightening grip. But it was far too late, he had gone positively feral. His tail wagged and his ears were pricked, his dilated pupils trained on your face.

Suddenly, he lunged forward, sinking his fangs into your neck. You screamed like a banshee in both pain and surprise. You tried to push him away, but his fangs only sunk deeper. You wept bitterly, unable to push him off of you.

“My mate,” Jack pulled free of your neck and grinned down at you with bloody teeth, “Your turn.” He tilted his head to give you free access to his own neck.

Some sort of weird mating ritual… you realized quickly. You opened your mouth and pointed at your teeth, “I don’t have fangs, Jack.”

Jack didn’t look particularly bothered by this fact and merely reached down and picked you up, ignoring your squeak of fear. He held you like a baby, curling his claws into your skin, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to give a warning.

He headed back through the forest and entered a cave near the civilians’ path. It had one glass wall, so guests could see into the massive cave.

Come morning, they’d see one wolf and one broken human resting inside.