#Snuff Grind

[belphesnore]

like i already hated the direction solmare's started going with nightbringer but that's genuinely so disappointing. i don't think i'll ever pick the game up again lol

[kaleldobrev]

Adventures in Babysitting

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader; Past William Butcher x F. Supe!Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, William Butcher, Soldier Boy/Ben & Hughie Campbell

Summary: The last thing you wanted was to babysit Soldier Boy — but here you are.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Cursing (23x), Offensive/Derogatory Language, Smut (P in V, Fingering, Unprotected Sex), Supe Shaming & Implied Drug Use

Authors Note: Even though I’m used to writing smut, I’m a little rusty, so apologies if this is not up to snuff with the other times I have written smut | I’ve been on such a Ben kick lately, hope y’all don’t mind! | MDNI — 18+ ONLY PLEASE | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

"Why am I the one that has to fucking babysit him?" You whispered yelled at Butcher, not trying to be remotely quiet in the process.

Butcher looked at you, and let out a small chuckle. "Cause Princess, you're the only one of us that, that Radioactive Cunt actually listens to. 'Sides, you're one of his kind."

You huffed. Like I had a fucking choice in the matter, you thought. "But you and Hughie are already going to be taking Temp V to go on your little suicide mission," you said, now raising your arms out of pure frustration. Your reaction and comment lead Butcher to just simply laugh.

"We ain't wastin' Temp V looking after him when you already got some in ya," he winked, giving your shoulder a little bump. "Sides, don't think your power is gonna be real useful for this."

It was now your turn to raise a brow and chuckle. "You don't think that my power of life draining people to the point of death isn't useful in this situation?"

"When I have laser eyes and Hughie can teleport? No. Our powers aren't hands on unlike yours," Butcher said.

"Now your power shaming me?" You scoffed, crossing your arms. "That's low Butch, especially after all the fucking times I've saved your British ass."

"Be mad at me all you want Princess, you're staying here," Butcher said, as he picked up his duffel bag. "I'll make it up to ya," he winked, and all you did was give him a disgusted look. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said, his tone a little bit more cheerful than it had been previously.

As Butcher walked out the door, you huffed. "Un-fucking-believable," you mumbled. You walked over to the couch and sat down, still keeping your arms folded as you slumped down and stared at the floor, slightly grinding your teeth.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ben asked, strolling into the room from the bathroom.

You glared at him, still with the look of death. "You. You're my fucking problem," your words coming off a lot harsher than you had intended them to sound. But you were pissed, and maybe a little bit jealous. Before Hughie came along, it was always the Y/N and Butcher Show, but now, it was the Hughie and Butcher Show. You felt slightly betrayed and felt like you had lost your best friend.

Ben looked at you with a confused look, his eye brows furrowed. "What the fuck did I do? I was in the fucking bathroom."

"You exist, that's why," you huffed, still with your arms crossed, barely looking at him as you answered.

"What's up with this fucking hot and cold shit uh? When I first met you, you were ready to hop on my cock, no questions asked, and now you wish I didn't exist?" Ben's reaction was one that you weren't expecting from him. You were expecting him to have some kind of sassy remark like 'Fuck you,' or 'Same here,' but not this time. This time, he almost seemed genuinely hurt that you told him that, even if you didn't really mean it.

In reality, you genuinely did like Ben; and really didn't have an actual problem with him. The only problem that you did have with him, was that he was too similar to you, and that honestly scared you sometimes.

"I'm just pissed okay?" You answered, your tone a little bit calmer now. You uncrossed your arms and let out a giant sigh.

Ben walked over to you, and sat next to you. "Do you...I can't believe I'm asking but...Do you want to...talk...about...it?" His words sounding almost as if he actually cared about what you had to say.

"No," your voice short. "I rather do something else," you continued. You finally looked him in the eyes now, and he looked at you with the same kind of confused look he had looked at you previously with.

"Yeah?" He asked, as you placed your hand on his thigh. He looked down at your hand, and then looked back up at you. "Don't start something you won't finish Sweetheart," he asked.

You didn't say anything but kept eye contact with him as you got up from the couch. "Where you goin' Sweetheart?" He asked, watching your every movement. But you remained silent; the only reaction you had was your facial expression. The death glare you had previously, was now replaced with that of slight lust.

As you stared at him, your fingers went on either side of your hips and went in the inside of your shorts. You started to slowly shimmy them down, maintaining eye contact with him as you did so. "Fucking tease," he mumbled. His comment caused you to smirk.

Once your shorts and underwear were completely off, they fell into a puddle at your feet, and you stepped out of them. You walked back to Ben and sat on his lap; your knees on either side of his legs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Without hesitation, his hands found your back and went inside of your shirt where they stopped mid-back. "No bra?" He smirked.

"I think they're rather inconvenient don't you think?" You asked in a whisper.

"I think so," he agreed. "You know what else is?"

"What?" You asked.

"This." In one swift movement, he lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it into the floor half-way across the room, leaving you completely naked on top of you — a sight that he's been dreaming about since the second he laid his eyes on you.

Once your shirt was off, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him in close to you, crashing your lips against his. You didn't mean to be so gentle with him, as you knew he could handle rough, but there was just something about him, about this situation that had wanted you to take things weirdly slow with him, instead of the usual rushed sex you were so used to having with Butcher.

Your body rocked against him, and his hands were squeezing your sides to the point that you could feel a slight amount of pain — the good kind of pain, and you let out a tiny moan. His lips moved to your neck, and you shut your eyes, loving the way his lips and tongue felt against your skin.

He nipped every so often on your skin, intending to leave bruises; but it would be a little hard to, given that you were also a Supe, but he was going to try nonetheless.

"Ben," you moaned, when he finally reached the space in-between your breasts. You felt him smirk against your skin. As if it were second nature, your hands found the back of his head, and you started almost massaging his scalp, twisting his hair between your fingers.

His hands moved from behind your back, and you missed the feeling of that warmness against you. But you were more than happy with where they were currently going. Without looking down, and keeping his mouth on yours, a few of his fingertips brushed up against your clit, and your breath hitched. He was barely touching you, and yet, you felt yourself starting to form into a puddle.

Ben couldn't help but widen his smirk as he touched you. He loved how wet you were for him, and he had barely touched you. "You like Sweetheart?" He asked against your lips, as he slowly started to slip one of his fingers slowly inside of you. It was his turn to tease you now.

Your breath hitched again, and he knew he had you. He slipped another finger inside of you, and he pumped his two fingers slowly in and out of you, knowing that this felt like torture for you. It might of felt like torture for you, but he wanted to enjoy this, because he didn't know if he would ever have this chance again.

You were hot and cold with him. One minute you were flirting with him, and the next you were calling him an asshole. But in either scenario, he couldn't help but imagine what you sounded like moaning his name, or how you would look as he fucked you.

"So fucking wet for me," he mumbled against your jaw. His fingers not picking up the pace in the slightest. You loved and hated what he was doing.

"Only for you," you whispered; your voice sounding blissful. "Ben...please..." you begged.

"Please what?" He asked, nipping at your neck.

"Make me come," you said, still in that same blissful tone.

"Mm, with pleasure," he replied. Without a second thought, his two fingers started to pump in and out of you a bit faster than they had been previously. As he pumped his fingers in and out of you, you rocked against them, trying to add more pressure and trying to get that quick release that you had been longing for.

Within seconds, you found yourself coming against his fingers. Letting out a moan, it became muffled as his lips found yours again. You moaned into his mouth; and you could his cock started to getting harder, which caused you to start smirking against his lips now.

Once you rid out your orgasm, he removed his fingers from you, and stuck them into his mouth; smirking as he did so. "I'll never get tired of that," he said.

You were on your back now, your left leg over Ben's shoulder, and the tip of his cock lining up to your entrance. If you were being honest with yourself, you were slightly nervous, but you were also excited about the feeling. "You ready for me Sweetheart?" he grinned, and you nodded.

Without anymore hesitation, he started to press the tip of his cock inside of you. You were slightly surprised at how gentle and slow he was being, as it was something that you weren't expecting from someone like him.

The farther he pressed his cock inside of you, the fuller you started to feel; a feeling that you couldn't help but moan to. "Fuck," you breathed out.

"I've heard a lot of women moaning in my life, but yours...fuck, it's like music to my ears," he smirked. "The sweetest I've ever heard." His weird compliment oddly made you feel good.

Once he was fully inside of you, the look on his face was that of pure delight, and you couldn't help but slightly chuckle. "Is it everything you hoped for?" You slightly joked.

"Better," he grinned.

He started out slow and gentle like he had been, almost as if he was cherishing the feeling. There was a part of you that was enjoying it, as you weren't used to a slow and gentle kind of sex; but the other part of you wanted him to speed up, as you knew the both of you would be able to handle the slight roughness.

The sounds of soft moans and grunts filled the room, but every so often they were muffled when you or Ben kissed the other. "You have no fucking clue how long I've wanted to fuck you," he whispered against your lips.

"I think I have an idea," you whispered back. Probably just as long, or longer than I have, you wanted to say.

"You feel so fucking good Sweetheart," he whispered again. He started kissing down your jaw again, and stopped at your neck, nipping at the skin once more. Still no marks, he thought. Disappointing.

As he continued to move in and out of you, you started to feel the slight pressure building and building, and you knew you were close. You were excited for the release, but didn't want the closeness that you were currently feeling with Ben to end. "I'm so close," you said, your words slightly breathy sounding.

"Already?" He grinned. Good, he thought. With a few more quick pumps, you found yourself coming around his cock; pure bliss and pleasure leaving your body. You moaned loudly as you came, and you didn't have to open your eyes to look at Ben to know how much he was enjoying seeing you like this.

As you came down from your high, the short breather that you had was simply that — short, as Ben started coming inside of you, which only reignited your high.

Ben pulled himself out of you, and you removed your slightly limp leg from his shoulder. “Come here,” he said, and you furrowed your brow in confused. “I said come here,” he repeated, with outstretched arms.

Before you could move, he rolled his eyes and brought you to himself, not liking the slowness that you were currently doing. When he pulled you close to him, he brought you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you; your head tucked underneath his chin. “Would have never pegged you as a cuddler,” you teased.

“I spent almost forty fucking years without skin to skin contact, humor me,” he said.

He was touch starved, you thought, and you swore that your heart broke just a little bit.

Half A Day Later…

You and Ben were on the couch together, your legs in his lap while his hands were on your bare thighs; his fingertips mindlessly tracing circles on them. There was an almost empty bottle of Jack between you that you had been sharing, along with a joint. The scene looked both romantic and casual — it felt nice.

"You know, I never messed up any of my lines in this movie," Ben noted, pointing at the screen with the bottle of Jack. "Unlike fucking Gunpowder," he mumbled, sounding slightly annoyed.

"He was like what fourteen and it was his first movie? Is that supposed to impress me?" You asked, raising a brow.

"Well ye—" but his sentence was cut off when the motel door abruptly swung open.

"Evening Cunts," Butcher said, his face and clothes splattered in blood.

"How'd the mission go? I see neither one of you are dead," you said, once Hughie entered the room, he too was covered in blood.

"We won," Butcher grinned, tossing his duffel bag onto the floor which sounded a lot heavier than it had been previously when he left much earlier in the day.

"How'd it go here?" Hughie asked. "I'm sorry we didn't bring you," his statement sounding genuine.

"No worries," you replied, trying your best to keep the slight jealousy that you had from showing. "It went fine here."

"I'd say more than fine," Butcher said, his tone slightly teasing and a little jealous sounding in nature as he pointed at your neck.

Your eye brows furrowed, and you lifted up your phone, turning the camera toward you. "Son of a Bitch," you mumbled, as you saw a few purpleish bruises on your neck. Hickeys, great, you thought.

Ben turned toward you now, turning your head to face him so he could admire his handiwork that he worked so hard on. "Well look at that," he grinned, slightly impressed with himself. "Ever make those kind of marks on her?" He asked, smirking in Butcher's direction.

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[e-hibiscus]

sfw and nsfw hc for the dog-coded PTN women?

🪼

Pairing: Rahu x fem!reader, Zoya x fem!reader, Cinnabar x fem!reader, Ninety-Nine x fem!reader

C.W: NSFW, Collars, muzzles, leashes, pet play(? kinda), more like talking about dog-coded women but cw none the less🫡

Author’s Note:  Woof woof 🐶poupy poupy! Your ask was really vague so i didn't know what you wanted so i just went with whatever was in my mind. (Not proof read)

Minors DNI! | NSFW! under the cut

Rahu

Rahu would reluctantly, but still, let you put all these things on her. She’s tall. She’s scary. She’s intimidating! Like an obedient guard dog she’d keep it on and follow orders. Her self restraint can only last so long, but seeing her teary eyed and desperate makes it worth it.

Rahu get so sad when you don’t let her do anything but watch as you go about and do things. Poor woman wants to help you, but you remind her to stay put and not move or even hold you 😨 she just has to sit there while you grind on her thigh or ride her cock.

Rahu gets all whiney and desperate, hands clawing at the sheets beside her while she begs and begs for you to at least let her hold you. But that’s a reward only after she makes you cum a few times. 

When she’s finally allowed to properly fuck you, Rhau will have been all pent up. Her hands dig into your hips with a bruising grip. Hips rutting into you like no tomorrow, all while muttering “i love you”, “thank you”, and  “how good you make her feel” right by your ear.

The best Rahu can do is leave her mark by painting your insides white 😔 she can’t leave bite marks; only leaving imprints of the muzzle on your back, but this way you get to hear every sound Rahu would usually snuff out when sinking her teeth into the junction between your neck and shoulder. It’s okay though, you let her double her effort and let her mark you up this way.

Rahu can be dangerous, but she’s an obedient pup who listens to your orders. Advised for her to have a collar, muzzle, and lead 😔 so you can bully her frfr

Zoya

Zoya is big and strong. The scary dog gf privileges are on full display with this absolute hulk of a woman. She’s on top and in-charge. Good luck getting anything more than a muzzle or collar on this woman. If you're lucky, maybe Zoya will let you do both, but a leash is a no no because she wants to be free to do as she pleases.

Zoya places you on her lap, hands holding your waist in place as you squirm in her arms. Through the cage of the muzzle you see her smirking, amused by the small tug on her jacket. She’s entertained you enough hadn’t she? Putting on this stupid thing made her initially annoyed, but Zoya will make it work– even with it on.

With Zoya, she’s the one who lets you do this, not the other way around. If you get a little too cocky, or go too slow for her liking, Zoya will note it down and make you pay double as a reminder on who’s the one who wears the pants in the relationship.

Zoya gets a little frisky, maybe goes a little wild in pace as well, but she wouldn’t do anything that would intentionally hurt you (non-consensually). 

At most, Zoya will fuck you into oblivion, taking you until your on the brink of passing out. Her hips move in hard languid strokes so her thick cock can hit all your sweet spots with as much strength she can muster.

You put a muzzle on Zoya to help “tame” her, so she’ll show you just how feral she can get in bed. You’re not going to be able to walk for the next few days, and what’s worse is the fact Zoya took the muzzle off anyway 😔 just so she can “properly” mark you up

Cinnabar

Cinnabar, Cinnabar, Cinnabar… The poster lady of golden retriever girlfriends who could honestly do no wrong. She’s a walking green flag and does not need any restraints whatsoever. No muzzle, collar, or leash required because Cinnabar can be your fluffy puppy or your guard dog on the dime; it's all down to the given situation!

Cinnabar is always eager to please. Her top and main priority is you, after all. If you’re feeling good, then so is she 🥺 Just make sure to complement and sing your praises. Cinna would absolutely melt from your sweet words.

Call her nicknames and she’ll go beet red. It's only because its you saying these sweet words, Cinna might just explode! Carefully guide her hands away from her face and you’ll see the absolutely adorable sight of your girlfriend flustered.

Cinnapup (nick-name curated from the lovely @/sinful-lanturns’s blog) can top or bottom for you. She prefers to be a service top above all else but Cinnabar can switch between the two, just for you. 

Cinnabar as a top is careful with her ministrations. She is gentle, not wanting to hurt you in the slightest because she loves you so much. Her fingers are a little clumsy when they explore the wet cavern of your pussy. Her careful, cautious nature has Cinnabar unintentionally edging you 😰so you have to tell her to properly fuck you, but even then she goes too slow.

Ninety-Nine

Ninety-Nine is big, strong , and scary 😨 this woman is the most feral out of them. You’re gonna need everything to keep safe, and you definitely gonna get dragged or carried around by her. Ninety-Nine will be willing to wear a muzzle, collar, and lead, but you have to talk her through it. Bby trusts you not to do anything bad to her or Hella 🥺

She unironically growls. When it’s not anything serious it’s actually pretty cute 😔 Ninety-Nine often looks at you for guidance or orders, staying around because she likes your company (and you give her snacks).

My take is Ninety-Nine is like a Rottweiler? Big scary dog, but is not so secretly a great pup over all. That being said, with those Ninety-Nine considers “family” she will protect like her life depends on it. She’s using her entire body to shield you and will have no hesitation for snapping at anyone who tries to do anything to you.

Feral Ninety-Nine is a menace because even with a muzzle and collar it’s impossible to restrain her so she does what her instincts tell her. If that means shoving your head into the sheets and relentlessly rut her hips into you, then so be it 😔 her claw like hands dig into your skin; leaving little beads of blood in their wake. Your cries and whines partially register, and she lessens her grip on your sides

Ninety-Nine will go for as long as she wants. There’s just no way you’ll get out of her grip once she starts going to town on you. She’s an insatiable beast 😨 so good luck getting out of bed in the morning tomorrow cause you’re in for a long and difficult ride

[ggukiepie]

one of your girls (jungkook x reader) (part 1)

we don't gotta be in love, no i don't wanna be the one, no i just wanna be one of your girls tonight ~ i wanna take your light inside dim me down, snuff me out ~ give me tough love leave me with nothin' when i come down

pairing: fwb!jk x oc, brief jimin x oc

tags: smut, angst, a little bit of fluff (like teeny tiny)

warnings: two smut scenes, kissing, marking (hickeys), fingering, brief handjob, protected sex, slight dom!jk, sub!oc, praise, dirty talk, grinding, edging, oral (f. & m. receiving), throat fucking, dacryphilia, spit kink, brief masturbation (m.), squirting, brief anal play, back shots, cum shot, multiple orgasms (you'll see), aftercare

word count: 5.8k

a/n: been in my feels lately i had to write it out lol; wrote this in one sitting my hands actually hurt omg; inspired by the song "one of your girls" (ik don't roast me idk why it's stuck in my head fml); if this gets taken down then bye bye i literally just wrote it here directly lmaooooo; anw enjoy !!!! part 2 / drabble i (flashback)

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

You knew what you were getting yourself into the night you said yes to Jungkook. You knew you'd fall for him, be under his spell. You knew you'd end up getting hurt. You prepared yourself, you really did, yet you were still surprised when you woke up each morning and he wasn't beside you in bed. You felt your heart break a little bit more when you saw him with another girl, whether she'd be one of your friends or a complete stranger to you.

You tried to guard your heart. Reminded yourself to prepare for the worst. Forced yourself not to fall, not to be blindsided. I'm just having a little fun, you told yourself for the nth time.

jk: u busy tonight?

you: not really! just writing a paper that's due next week

That was sent hours ago and you mentally cringe at your reply. You always find yourself oversharing to Jungkook when you didn't even need to. You wanted to make it seem like your whole situationship was just casual. Like you didn't care. He rarely shared much about his personal life and so should you. But that hardly happened. You didn't want him to think that you cared, that you were clingy or waiting for him to text. You didn't even wait five minutes before replying and he hasn't even texted back.

You know what his text means. He wants to fuck and that's it. But he doesn't say it outright. No, never. He wants to make it seem like he cares, that he wants to know how your night is going. But he just wants to know if you're free to fuck and once you reply, he'll keep that as a reminder in the back of his mind, like he has a mental list of girls he can sort through at the end of the night when he's bored or when he wants to have a little bit of fun.

You know you're just one of his girls on his roster and you're fine with that. You're not his girlfriend and he's not your boyfriend. Though it does seem like that on some days, which is when you get the courage to not reply to his texts. When you try to shut him out and move on. He usually shows up outside your lecture hall with a cup of coffee in hand, bunny smile on his face as he waits for you to walk into the hallway. Like he's waiting for you, picking you up from class like a good and loving boyfriend.

It's all for show and it's only to get himself on your good side again. It works every time. You don't question yourself anymore. Jungkook likes the chase, likes the adrenaline of going after girls and trying to get them to fall for him, or sleep with him, or whatever. It's all the same to him.

You sigh again as you check your phone, hoping for a reply but knowing he won't text back. It's a Friday night and he's probably at some party. You go through your texts and open the conversation with your best friend.

jihyo: see u later! im picking u up so u better be ready >:(

You can't help but laugh at her insistence. Jihyo knows what you're going through since you tell her everything. You tell her you don't care though, that you're not looking for a relationship right now and your "thing" with Jungkook is just casual. But you know she sees right through your lies. It's even more obvious when you ghost all your friends and lock yourself in your apartment every night. She's trying to make you forget and move on and have some actual fun so you indulge her every time.

You get ready in less than an hour and actually put some effort into your appearance. You're not sure which party you're going to but you won't be surprised if Jungkook will be there as well. Maybe if you look hot enough he'll choose you tonight.

You hear a knock on your door and open it immediately, finding Jihyo laughing at something her boyfriend has just said. Most of the time you end up hanging out with her and Mingyu because she's always dragging you with her to keep you from being lonely. You don't mind it though because they're fun people to be with. Even though Mingyu is Jungkook's roommate and best friend. But Mingyu isn't anything like Jungkook. He looks at Jihyo like she's hung up the stars and moon. Loves her with all his heart and doesn't leave her second guessing. You always wonder why him and Jungkook are friends when they're so different.

Jihyo turns to smile at you, but it's still the lovestruck smile she gave Mingyu just seconds ago. You know you have the same kind of smile reserved for Jungkook. You wish you didn't but at the same time you're glad you do, like you have a part of yourself only Jungkook can see. Even though he doesn't do the same.

"You look so hot tonight!" she squeals as she pulls you in a hug. You laugh and roll your eyes, making eye contact with Mingyu as he nods his head in greeting. Jihyo steps back and grabs your hand, dragging you out your apartment so fast you barely have time to lock the door behind you. "Let's go before all the good drinks are gone."

It's a short but fun walk to the house where the party is being held. You find yourself laughing with Jihyo and Mingyu the whole time. They're the type of couple that doesn't make third wheeling a bore.

Loud music blares in your ears the moment you step inside. You feel your heels sticking to the floor. A typical frat house throwing a typical Friday night party. You immediately take shots with Jihyo and Mingyu. You need it to be able to survive the night since you already feel yourself tensing up at the possibility of Jungkook being in the same place as you.

You spot your other friends and hangout with them for the rest of the night. It's when you're playing beer pong with Jimin as your partner do you see Jungkook at the other side of the room. He's talking to some girl which is nothing new. It shouldn't phase you but it does. You thought you were going to be his pick for the night since he texted you a while ago.

You feel your heart fall at the sight of them, your chest physically hurting that you make Jimin throw the ball twice for the both of you since you can't focus. You feel all the fun and happiness slowly leave your body. You feel your stomach churn at the way he's got her trapped against the wall, tattooed arm placed beside her head, mouth whispering right against her ear. She's smiling and giggling at whatever Jungkook is telling her. You wish that were you.

"Forget about him," Jimin mutters in your ear. He's watching your beer pong opponents take their turn as you're watching Jungkook and the girl.

You shake your head at Jimin, turning your head to smile at him just to make it seem like you're okay. Just like Jihyo, he sees right through you.

Jimin's another close friend of Jungkook. They're not so different. Jimin likes to sleep around but he makes it clear that he doesn't want anything serious. Always nice and gentle with the girls he sleeps with. Jungkook makes it seem like you're his and only his. You wonder again why they're friends.

"Seriously, Y/N," Jimin says, a little bit of urgency in his tone. It's probably the look of longing on your face that raises concern in your friend. Everyone sees how broken you look when you catch Jungkook with another girl.

"I know," you say after a while. You talk just a little bit loud enough to be heard over the music. "Jungkook and I just sleep with each other. It's casual and that's it."

You hear Jimin sigh. He nods his head and it's his turn to throw the dirty ping pong ball. You've had this conversation with him and Jihyo numerous times already, sometimes it's the both of them and sometimes it's on separate occasions. You say the same thing every time. You think your friends are starting to give up on you. Maybe you should as well.

You force yourself to have fun for the rest of the night, always trying to be in a room where Jungkook isn't. You're not sure if he's spotted you. You don't know which hurts more—him not spotting you because he doesn't even bother looking for you in the crowd, or him spotting you but not talking to you because you're not his choice for the night. Either way, he doesn't care. You know he doesn't but you wish you did. You thought you'd catch his attention with the black dress you're wearing. Or with the way your hair is styled. But it doesn't work and you tell yourself that it's okay. You always see him in your peripheral though, either talking to someone or flirting with that girl.

You decide to leave when you see Jungkook leaving as well, fingers tangled with the girl's. She looks like a giggling mess and you can't blame her. Everyone falls for Jungkook's charms. You try not to dwell on the fact that they're going to have sex.

It's Jimin who walks you home. He can tell you're sad so he talks about his day and his classes, avoiding Jungkook's name even though you're positive that they hung out today. Jungkook's intertwined in so many people's lives it's hard to leave him out. But Jimin makes an effort just to distract you. You're grateful for it though and he keeps up the act all the way to your apartment. He asks if he can use your bathroom and you say yes, mindlessly changing into your pajamas once the bathroom door closes behind you. You thought you'd have a little bit more time to finish changing but you suddenly hear Jimin swear behind you. You live in a little studio apartment so there's not much room to hide.

"Oh fuck— Shit," he says. You turn around laughing to see him with his hand over his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbles.

You're in your underwear but you don't mind. "It's not like you haven't seen me like this before," you chuckle.

"Still," he reasons.

Because you're stupid and heartbroken and hurt, you walk up to Jimin and gently grab his wrist, bringing his arm down to his side. You look at him looking at anywhere else but you. Eventually he looks down at your body for a split second and you laugh at him.

"We shouldn't," he whispers.

You shrug your shoulders. "Just a little bit of fun, right?" you ask with a smile on your face. "Like old times?" you giggle.

Jimin lets out a scoff but it's more of a laugh. Like he can't believe you're both doing this again. "You sure you're not drunk?" he asks as he makes eye contact with you. Bingo. You got him.

"Nope," you say sweetly.

"But Jungkook?"

You roll your eyes to mask the hurt. "Don't care."

Jimin looks at you intently to make sure you're not bluffing. While you wait for his answer you unclasp your bra and let it fall down your shoulders, exposing yourself to him. His eyes widen at the sight.

"Okay," he breathes out. He suddenly holds you by the waist to place you on the kitchen counter. It has you giggling at him.

"Eager?" you ask when he starts kissing your neck. You feel him drag his teeth across your skin, like he's thinking if he should mark you up or not. You stretch your neck out even more and feel him biting at your skin, sure to leave a bruise.

"Just excited," he mumbles against your neck. You feel him smile.

You unzip his pants while he's busy sucking your nipples. He's hard already when you start pumping your hand up and down his cock.

"Feels good, baby," he moans in your ear. You're still wearing your underwear but Jimin doesn't mind, just pushes it to the side to insert two of his fingers inside your pussy.

"Oh," you choke out. He finds your spot right away and rubs his fingers against it. He doesn't make you come, just fingers you to make sure you're prepped. It's quick when he takes his fingers out and grabs the condom in the back pocket of his jeans. You watch him tear the packet open and roll the condom down his length.

You both don't say anything else as he pushes his cock past your tight walls. Doesn't give you a moment before he starts pounding, his skin slapping against yours.

It's always like this with Jimin—just quick and easy and no feelings attached. You both don't do it much, it happens at the most random times. Usually when you want to forget or when he's stressed from school. And after this you're both back to being friends. It's never awkward. You wish it were like this with Jungkook instead.

"Jimin," you moan when he starts rubbing your clit. "Gonna come."

"Go ahead, baby," he breathes out, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and leaving his lips there. You push yourself to release and Jimin follows right after. You're both breathing heavily when he pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the bin. He zips up his pants and starts looking for something on your bed. You're still trying to catch your breath when you feel a shirt being put over your head. Jimin's sweet like this—does aftercare in the most platonic way possible.

"There," he says after helping you wear the shirt he found. He doesn't know it belongs to Jungkook. You don't think he minds if he does though.

"Thank you," you say quietly and give him a small smile.

"Anytime. I'll see you around, okay?" He kisses your forehead and you watch him leave your apartment.

The silence engulfs you and you think you should feel disgusted with yourself—that you're pining over a guy but you just had sex with another. With his close friend out of all people. But you push the thought to the back of your mind as you jump down from the kitchen counter and walk into your bathroom. You're just like Jungkook, you tell yourself. Just casually sleeping around and nothing else. He doesn't care and you don't either. You feel a teeny bit better.

You take a warm shower to wash all the remnants from tonight. You actually take your time just to clear your jumbled up mind. It's almost 30 minutes later when you step out and check your phone while you're drying off, heartbeat stopping at a text you've received almost an hour ago.

jk: u up?

jk: hey reply to me :(

jk: coming over

Your eyes widen at the last text. It was sent just 10 minutes ago. You don't know where he's coming from but the campus isn't that big so he'll probably be here soon. You quickly finish drying off and change into comfortable clothes. You hear a knock on the door the moment you finish changing. You take a deep breath before walking to the door and opening it.

You notice Jungkook's wearing the same clothes from the party but his shirt is a bit wrinkled. You think he just came from the girl's place. Probably fucked her and is here now because he's not satisfied. You should feel disgusted and mad but you're not. You're no better. You just slept with his friend.

"Hi," you mutter.

He smiles at you and leans in to kiss you on the lips. "Hey, sweetheart." It has you swooning.

You step to the side to let him in and he walks straight to your bed, sitting down to take off his shoes before lying down comfortably. You follow him and sit down on your bed right by his waist. He stretches out his arm to drape it over your thighs and you start tracing his tattoos absentmindedly. This is your usual routine.

"Did you stay in all night?" he asks. Just a little bit of conversation before he does what he's really here for. At least he has a little bit of decency. You don't mind though, it makes you think that he cares about you when he asks things like this.

You shake your head and smile at him. "Nah, Jihyo and Mingyu dragged me to that frat party." You can tell he's trying to hide his surprise.

"Oh, I didn't see you there," he mumbles.

"It's okay." You shrug. "There were a lot of people."

"We could've played beer pong together, I know you like doing that every time you're out."

Your heart clenches at his remark. You're surprised and hurt every time he remembers little things about you. "I was with Jimin, don't worry." Jungkook doesn't know the double meaning to it.

He nods and runs his fingers across your thighs. "Missed you. Sorry I didn't reply to your text earlier, got caught up in something." You know that's a lie. "Just got back from the party too, that's why I came here late." Another lie.

You nod and smile as if you believe him. And you force yourself to because it's easier than knowing the truth. It's silent for a moment before he mumbles c'mere and brings you on top of his lap.

"Missed this," he says quietly as he squeezes your thighs. His hands trail up your waist till he's squeezing your tits beneath the shirt you're wearing. You start grinding on his cock, getting out of breath too quickly. You missed this too. It's been a week since you last had sex with Jungkook which is a long time for the both of you.

"Kook," you pant. He's pinching your nipples knowing that's where you're most sensitive.

"I know, sweetheart. Take your shirt off for me, hm?"

You nod your head dumbly and do as you're told, watching Jungkook stare at your body. He stops moving beneath you and you're about to ask what's wrong when he brings his hand up to touch the hickey on your neck that Jimin left.

"Who's this from?" he asks. You can't tell if he's mad or just curious. Jungkook isn't showing any emotions on his face and you're starting to get nervous.

"Just..." You think if you should tell him the truth. You look into his eyes and try to see if there's any semblance of care. You don't know. You really can't tell. Then your eyes trails down his body, to his neck and the wrinkly white shirt he's wearing. There's a red stain on the collar and you know it's lipstick. From the girl he slept with earlier. "Someone," you finally mumble.

"Someone?" He continues rubbing the spot gently until he presses down on it with his thumb. He doesn't press down too hard, but it's with enough force to have you hissing slightly.

"It's from Jimin," you finally say. He doesn't say anything but raise an eyebrow at your reply. You don't know if he already knows that you and Jimin have slept together. He doesn't look so surprised, or maybe he is and he's just really good at schooling his expressions.

He makes eye contact with you again and you feel his hand going to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair to press your lips against his. The kiss feels urgent and rushed, his tongue instantly slipping in your mouth and tangling with yours. You're on top of him yet you feel defenseless as he holds you by your hair and kisses you hard. You let Jungkook do as he pleases and forget about the little conversation you just had. You start grinding on his cock again and he reciprocates this time, hips moving against yours.

Before you know it, he rolls you over and pins your arms above your head. You stare at him with wide eyes and he smirks at you in return. He holds your wrists with one hand and takes off your shorts and underwear with the other. He's fully dressed while you're not and you know you're at his mercy. He knows this too as he spreads your thighs apart with his hand.

"Keep your hands there," he whispers. You hold your bed frame for good measure. You just want to please him. He trails kisses down your body, from your neck to your nipples to your tummy. He stops by your thighs and you feel his breath against your skin. You squirm beneath Jungkook to get him to do something, to touch you and pleasure you. He shakes his head, still with that damn smirk on his face. He starts kissing your thighs, close to your pussy just to tease you.

"Didn't know you and Jimin have a thing going on," he says against your skin. You shiver at the vibrations his voice provides.

You feel Jungkook bite down on your inner thighs. "We don't," you choke out. He scoffs and starts kissing your pussy. Just light kisses that start making you crazy because you just want his mouth on you. "We're just friends," you say weakly.

He looks up from where he's laying between your legs. "Like us?"

Us.

You know what he means but at the same time you don't. You're friends with Jimin like you're friends with Jungkook. But you don't long for Jimin like you do for Jungkook. You don't yearn for Jimin the same way, don't look for him in every place you're at, don't pine for his affection or his touches. Jimin isn't like Jungkook and you both know that. You just don't know if you're different from the other girls Jungkook fucks.

"No," you say truthfully. It's said with defeat and desperation because you know he's not going to touch you till you answer him. "Not like us."

You know Jungkook won't pry anymore because he finally starts licking your pussy, starting with your outer lips until his tongue is inside your hole licking every crevice. Then he starts sucking your clit and that's when you truly lose it, legs going around his head to keep him against your cunt.

"Fuck," you almost scream. You're so close already that you should feel embarrassed but you're not. Jungkook knows your body too well. No one holds a candle to how good he eats you out. "Please," you whimper.

"Please what, sweetheart?"

"Please make me come!" you beg. "Need it, need it so much." You starting grinding your hips against his mouth.

"You're so desperate," he chuckles. It's said meanly but the comment flies over your head. You don't care anymore; you just want some sort of release. "But not yet."

You suddenly feel cold because Jungkook removes his mouth from you, standing up and getting out of the bed to remove his clothing. You continue holding the bed frame above you because you want to be good for him. You watch him strip his clothes off till he's naked just like you, tattooed hand wrapping around his cock.

It's long and thick and it splits you open every time he fucks you. You really don't know how you manage to take him every time.

Jungkook is so mean and unfair with the way he's teasing you right now, pleasuring himself while you lay on the bed. You're about to open your mouth to complain when he finally nods his head, motioning you to get up. "Kneel. Hands behind your back, okay?"

You nod your head and get in position on the bed, head tilting up to look at his cock. It's so hard and the tip is already leaking. You just want your mouth around him.

"Open," he says.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, just the way Jungkook likes. As expected, he spits directly into your mouth and you swallow right away.

"Good girl. Now suck."

He brings his cock to your lips and you immediately start sucking. You push your length all the way in till you feel him at the back of your throat.

"Gotta take all of me in, pretty. Or else I won't fuck your little pussy."

You know Jungkook takes his threats seriously so you back up a little to catch your breath before taking him in your mouth again. God, he's so big and thick your jaw is already starting to feel sore. But you power through and keep taking him in your mouth until your nose touches his tummy. You try not to gag around him but it's no use. You also feels your eyes tearing up.

Jungkook doesn't care you're struggling. In fact, he loves it because he's got that stupidly handsome smile on his face. He strokes your cheeks for a while and you try to even out your breathing.

"I wanna fuck your throat, sweetheart. Can you take it?" he asks sweetly.

You know it's a rhetorical question but you nod anyways, as much as you could with a dick down your throat.

"Let me in then."

You close your eyes and relax your throat even more. Jungkook holds your head then and pushes you towards him even deeper. You're helpless since your hands are behind your back. You gag again and start feeling lightheaded.

"There we go," he finally says once his whole length is in your mouth. You feel the tip down your throat. You're struggling so much but you try not to move. You just want to please him. "Gonna move now," he mumbles and starts moving his hips. You let him fuck your throat for God knows how long. You're full on crying when he stops and withdraws his length halfway out your mouth. You take the time to gasp for air and you even cough a little, head bowing down to regain your breathing. You faintly hear Jungkook laugh above you.

"I'm not yet done, love. Was just feeling nice enough to give you a little breather."

You nod your head and look up at him, mouth opening wide to let him know you're ready again.

"You just let me do whatever I want, huh?" he chuckles. You're not sure if he means something else but to you it does. You willingly let Jungkook do anything to you. Even if it results in heartbreak.

He stares at you for a while and spreads the spit and precum that's on your lips. "So messy." Then he's back to inserting his length inside your mouth. The glide is smoother this time since you're already prepped. "There we go," he groans out. He stays still and feels the imprint of his dick on your throat. "Look so pretty for me."

Jungkook starts moving again but thankfully his pace is slow this time. You're sure you'll have a sore throat by tomorrow.

"Keep your eyes open, okay? Wanna see you cry."

You look at him while he's fucking your mouth, looking at the way his cock moves in your throat. You're starting to lose your breath and you think Jungkook could tell as well because he grants you reprieve and steps back. You're coughing more this time, hands catching yourself in front of you. You barely get enough time to regain your breathing before you feel Jungkook grabbing your head and bringing your lips to his.

"Did so good for me," he says against your mouth.

You're trembling in his hold and you grab his arms to steady yourself. "Fuck me please," you try to say but your voice comes out hoarse and ragged.

He kisses your cheek and then your jaw. "I will, don't worry," he coos. "Always gonna give you what you want." Another lie. You know that's not true.

You're putty in his hands as he maneuvers you to the position he wants to fuck you in, which is on your hands and knees with your ass high in the air.

"Just like that," he whispers. He pushes down on your shoulders even more so that you're wide and open for him. He starts rubbing your pussy and you can't help but moan out loud. "You're so wet, sweetheart. All from sucking my cock?"

You nod wordlessly from your position on the bed. "Jungkook!" you scream as he plunges two fingers in your pussy. He's ruthless as he fucks his fingers fast and hard, hitting your g-spot right away. "Please," you cry out. You're so wound up and tense and you just want to come already but he won't let you.

You hear Jungkook chuckle from behind you. "Still so tight, baby. Thought Jimin stretched you out already." You're about to reply but you feel his thumb press against your rim and your senses go haywire, mind going blank because you're so overwhelmed.

"Please, please," you beg quietly. You're crying again and you'd do anything at this point to get Jungkook to fuck you. He withdraws his fingers from your holes and you hear the crinkling of plastic behind you. You turn your head slightly to see him slipping a condom on. Jungkook has never fucked you raw and you never asked why because you already know the answer. You'll get hurt hearing the truth anyway.

He holds your hips to steady you. He rubs the head of his cock up and down your folds. "You want this?" he asks roughly.

"Yes. Please."

Finally, finally, Jungkook pushes his cock in your pussy. It doesn't take long because you're so wet he slides right in to the hilt.

"You feel so good around me." He stills for a moment and you grab your ass to spread your cheeks even more.

"Please move, Kook."

You hear him groan. "God, baby, you're filthy." He starts fucking into you and your mind goes blank. You feel his thick cock slide in and out, the tip already kissing your cervix.

"Feels so good," you mumble incoherently. Jungkook fucks you quick and hard, holding your hips so tightly you know it's going to bruise. You feel his balls slap against your clit which adds even more pleasure. You feel yourself getting close again and arch your back.

"Can I please come?" you ask through your moans. "Please let me come, Jungkook. Please—"

"Come," he finally says. It's the only word you need to hear before you let go, that coil in you snapping and bringing pleasure all over your body. You don't know you're moaning so loudly you're almost screaming. You feel your pussy just gush and it gets so wet and sticky you're surprised Jungkook doesn't slip out. It's so filthy that you hear squelching noises as well. Your orgasm goes on for so long you don't know how you're still holding yourself up.

"You creamed my cock so much, baby," Jungkook says. He slows down his pace but he's still moving so you can ride out your high. "Got me wet and even your sheets."

You barely hear him and there's just a buzzing sound around your head. Your body feels so heavy and you just want to collapse but you arch your back even more for Jungkook.

He laughs. "Think I fucked you stupid." He increases his pace again and you just kneel there and take it. "Gonna make me fucking come," he growls as his hips snap against yours. "Fuck." He fucks you some more and you groan every time he hits your g-spot.

Suddenly, he pulls out so fast. "Don't move," he groans. You stay in place and watch him remove the condom off, hand going to stroke his cock as he brings himself to his release. You feel his come on you, right on your pussy and asshole. "Fuck, baby," he groans. You feel even stickier with his load on you. Then he bends down to kiss your neck, and then your cheek, and then a gentle one on your lips.

"You okay?" he asks quietly. His arm goes to wrap around your waist and you slowly start sinking onto the bed.

"Mhm," you mumble and try to keep your emotions at bay. You always feel so overwhelmed after sex with Jungkook. You let a few tears fall down your cheeks but it's the kind of tears of relief from an intense orgasm.

Jungkook presses his front against your back, not caring that his come is still on you. He starts kissing your face again then rubs his nose up and down your throat. "Just breathe, yeah?" he says quietly. You nod weakly against his hold and do just that. The both of you say nothing as you try to calm your racing heart.

You don't know how many minutes pass by until Jungkook stands up. You don't have the strength in you to move your position on the bed or ask where he's going. A few minutes later you feel a wet rag on your back. You let Jungkook clean you up while the both of you still don't say a thing. Then he's moving you on the bed again so your head is on the pillows and he's right behind you, lying down comfortably to be the big spoon. You feel him kissing your head.

"Sleep," he mumbles against your hair. With Jungkook holding you and with his steady breaths guiding yours, you fall asleep right away.

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

You don't know what time it is when you wake up but there's still sunlight peeking through your curtains so you suppose it's still morning. You turn to face the other side of the bed only to find it empty. You don't know what time Jungkook left, if he stayed the night or left the moment you fell asleep. You're used to it already but it doesn't mean you're not hurt. Your heart constricts at the empty space beside you. You move again to lay on your back and cover your face with yours hands, letting out shaky breaths while trying not to breakdown. God, maybe Jimin was right. Just forget about him.

But it's hard not to. It's hard to forget about him when you have sex constantly, when his touches are gentle but also rough. When he wants you to reply to his messages and when he wants you against his body. It's hard because he's friends with your friends. It's hard when he takes care of you after every intense orgasm. It's hard when he makes it seem like he wants you just as much as you want him.

[2-dsimp]

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Yandere Spinoffs

The hero

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Guilty as charged 👀 that is just one of his little fantasies he has of his precious heroling. But he’s rather disobedient so he’d just nut without any care in the world once he’s gotten his fix.

Cw: 🔞MDNI🔞 m! masterbation, slight degradation, Adonis being a cheeky bastard yet again, humiliation, masochistic behavior, footjob m! receiving, dry humping, very suggestive

A/n: final pt3 of Adonis post dump

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As you know the Hero is an absolute fiend for any type of scornful reaction you give him. Which is why he enjoys pressing every little button to push you into taking out all your frustrations on him. You’d think he’d be doing you a service for volunteering to be your stress punching bag. But in all honesty his masochistic side is preening underneath all the negative attention he’s garnered so effortlessly from his darling heroling.

His rough hands furiously pumped his veiny shaft with frightening tenacity. While his tongue was lolled out, his golden lashes fluttered shut. At the idea of you treating him like a disobedient hound. Adonis could visualize it so clearly, being tied up and restrained like a patient in a psycho ward. With you towering above him, your expression twisted into a mixture of revolting disgust and frustration. Which made him hitch a breath and his cock twitch at how stimulating your harsh gaze was upon him.

The sunset knight dared to imagine you using your feet to grind down on his prominent bulge. Almost as if you’re trying to snuff out the sight of his offending cock bobbing its fat tip at you. But that feel short since he was reveling in pathetically humping his hips upwards underneath your heeled boot. A saccharine unapologetic grin was spread across his thin lips, Golden eyes glazed over with unhinged lust and unhealthy obsession.

As he dared to look upon you revering your antagonistic glare with faith akin to that of a nun while he rutted his precum stained crotch against your shiny boot getting it messy on purpose just for you to continue hurling demeaning insults for his degenerate behavior.

Adonis was nothing more then a starved beggar Hanging off every word that should’ve pierced icy daggers into his heart. But instead made his balls ache with how he was barely holding back in nutting within his straight jacket attire. He was panting breathlessly while he hunched his front against your legs, his cheek smushed against your thigh. His mouth hung open like a mindless zombie as he was teetering off the edge. He was waiting for it, that one last push, those sweet words that’ll set him free… You’ve got him begging for it.

“I hate you Adonis”

Snapping back to reality the perverted hero heaved out a choked gasp as his body racked with tremors. His cock spurting out pearly streaks of cum painting his chest and some managing to splat on his chin from the frightening velocity of his pulsating dick.

If he couldn’t be what you loved, then he’ll gladly be the one you’d hate with all of your heart. After all hate and love are two sides of the same coin.

[theurgists]

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ IRON MOON ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

aemond targaryen x reader

summary: bitter arguments lead to bitter ends.

warning(s): 18+ smut, lannister!reader, established relationship (although there is quite a bit of tension), angst, fingering (just a smidge), breast play (if you squint), sexual intercourse ?? ( unclothed grinding)

a/n: it's been several months since i've written so enjoy this piece cause I don't know if i can deliver this hard again, i fear. thank you @targaryen-dynasty for beta-reading this for me.

There’s a sharp sting in the socket where Aemond Targaryen’s left eye should be. A pain so brutal, that in his haste to sit upright, his spine cracks in response to the movement — head heavy and pounding with lingering exhaustion. 

Tossing his amber furs aside, Aemond blinks rapidly, the dull throb in his lobe pulsing in discomfort, as he adjusts his vision, despite still being disoriented by slumber so deep, he had found himself almost fully rested. Almost. 

From what he could see in the sliver of starlight illuminating his bed-chamber, he quickly glanced around the vast space. His usual chair — once tucked under a large, stone table where his books sat piled atop one another — had been moved directly in front of the fireplace, where burning embers lifted in thick, dark ropes of smoke, evidence of his betrayal and the constant reminder of his wrongdoings wafted in the air, blackening his lungs, forever tainting his soot-covered soul. He could see it in the ash threatening to snuff out the flames warming his snowy skin; could feel the bones in his spider-like fingers grow numb with anticipation. 

Or was it fear? He could differentiate the two no longer. 

Gooseflesh raises upon his arms, although a chill in the air is nowhere to be found. His ears are the first to register — a sigh from his right, muffled as if he were underwater. His head stings once more, and he hisses through his teeth. The torment behind the gaping wound is needle-sharp, like the blade he was maimed with. It was the very reason for his misery, a pang of unease constantly gnawing in the depths of his belly, raising bile in his throat. 

His desperation to please had gotten him nowhere but backward, his fingertips lightly ghost over the gaping wound in his skull is a significant reminder of that much.

“Did you find rest?”

Aemond’s hand drops to his exposed side, legs swinging over the bed to hover over the cool stone flooring, head hung low, heart racing erratically at your seemingly missed presence.

“What are you doing here?” Jaw taunt, his fingers slowly crawl over crumpled bedding before grasping it tightly, a harsh swallow following not a second after. A twitch made its way up his spine, starting at his lower back before crawling, grasping at his bones for leverage, lungs releasing an unintended sigh to linger in the air. 

Marriage was neither kind to you nor Aemond – unwanted, heavily weighing on shoulders that could only lift so much. He sought to be rid of you — to have you running for the hills of your home of Casterly Rock with your skirts lifted in haste, head hung down in shame, intimidated by his coldness and calculated gaze, one iris burning with the flames of Old Valyria.

He had never wished to take a wife, even less a Lannister whose false promises meant naught to him on the rare occasions he’d find comfort in your arms when desperation clawed at him. Vulnerability didn’t suit him. The One-Eyed Prince came to that conclusion the first night he lay in his separate chambers after clambering out of yours, face beet-red in humiliation that burned brighter than dragonfire. 

Touch is what he craved. It gnaws at his insides, filling his veins with longing he could no longer deprive himself of, the urge to let his tongue twist and flick against his teeth and let words sail in the wetness of his mouth. 

Seeking out whores for comfort what was he turned to; peeling off his clothing and leaving every inch of his skin as bare as the day he was born, curling into himself as if he were still a babe attached to the teat. Pleasure was never in the foreground of his mind, even when Sylvi’s shaky fingers threaded through his silver tresses, whispering words of reassurance in his ears. 

In a way, it was freeing – having someone touch him that way, dote on him as if he were fragile,  thin lips parting to vent to her in a jumble of words. The simple utterance of his platitudes would never reach beyond the cracking stone of the brothel he frequented, and would not spread like the rot eating away at him. 

He made sure of it. When leaving Sylvi he always did. 

Aemond had been ridiculed, whispered about amongst the Keep in conversation between ladies of the court, fathers making an example out of him to set their rebellious sons straight. An observer he was, extending his ears to anything that might be of importance to weeding out traitors of the crown, of his brother who was less than deserving to sit the Iron Throne, a seat that he would’ve been granted had he been the first son.

The Gods continue to strike their fury down on him.

“I’ve come to reassure my mind that you’re still in good health, my prince. Since you like to linger in the shadows.” 

Your presence looms over his head like a cloud, carrying the finest rainfalls to drop onto him the second your footsteps echo in his ears, the blood in his veins hum, fingers tingling with a certain numbness that fills his beating heart with a sense of dread.

“Welcoming yourself into my chambers gives you enough answers?” 

Even with the expanse of his back on display for your eyes, he did not have to crane his neck to know that you bore a smirk as you spoke once more.

“You may not realize, but when you’re in a state of unconsciousness you tell all.” With a clammy palm, you grasp the iron handle of a flagon, full to the brim with untouched wine that had been placed there earlier in the day by a maid, no doubt. “I seem to find you more pleasant that way.”

Nostrils flaring, Aemond inhaled the scent of parchment paper and ink that he had left out to dry as he took in your words. Although there was no ill intention behind the desperate urge to fill the short silence, he considered it so. “You’ve come to ridicule me?” 

“Is that what you think?” Your tone is accusatory, and rightfully so. You’ve been naught but kind to him, even with the tension between the both of you thickening every day the sun sank below the horizon.

Lifting a cup, you pour enough wine to teeter over the edge, wasting no time before closing your pillowy lips around the rim. “‘Tis merely an observation,” you add.

“Mhm.” 

“You think poorly of me.” 

“No.” 

“Then why do you speak to me as if I were poison in the flesh? We are married.” 

Your fingers tighten around the neck of your chalice, shaking with such vigor the liquid sloshes, falling next to your bare feet before splattering on your toes.

Aemond turns his neck slowly, lips pressed together, torso adjusting to his newfound angle so he can look at you in the flicker of surrounding paraffin wax candles, violet eye narrowing. “You seem to be adjusting fine despite our… challenges with one another.”

Licking the flesh of your bottom lip, spit-soaked and tasting of Dornish wine, a laugh escapes your throat, dry and devoid of humor. “And whose fault might that be, hm?”

Aemond lightly gasps as you ease your body in between his nude thighs, free hand taking hold of his jaw. The pads of your fingers sink into the skin of his cheeks as you raise his head so he can look you in the eyes, which gleamed with mischief. 

“I give you the privacy you so desperately seek. Now, I must ask something.” 

Fire burns in his belly, tightening the knot that wishes to unravel itself as you gaze at him over the shining steel of your cup, sipping its contents eagerly. You were by no means subtle with your emotions. 

Aemond quickly learned that the minute he laid his head on your lap, skin-to-skin on his furs after consummating your marriage without prying eyes. You had treated him with such care then, caressing his skin, weaving his hair through your fingers. It felt as if care had sprouted in his lungs, constricting his throat, and leaving him speechless.

Contentment had presented itself as a lion, a woman who was the first to make his heart soar and his head swim.

He was less than deserving. It was decided.

By title and law, you were his wife, a lifelong partner with whom he was to share all his worries and complications — no matter how severe. Yet, he could not find it within himself to tell you what he speaks to the woman he seeks out.

He swallows thickly. 

Biting the inside of your cheek offers some sort of solace as you kneel in front of him, knees stinging, aching, and wine spilling once more. The sleeve of your sun-yellow nightgown is wet, permeating the air with a stench so sweet and bitter that it causes your nose hairs to burn as your lungs expand for air when you set it down.

His cheeks turn cold with the removal of your hand, yet he can not find the strength to unclench his jaw, chest heaving in expectance. 

“I have done naught but be good to you as best I could. Must you make this difficult?”

Your hands search for his, bringing them to your mouth before laying a kiss upon them – a gesture that causes his cock to twitch briefly, the brush of your lips awakening the beast of desire within him.

“My duty to you is not forgotten, wife.” 

Aemond states this as if it were practiced, monotonous and cold despite his hands still cradled in yours. You squeeze, averting your gaze from the sharpness of his features to his silky hair, a long stream of silver glistering in the night.

“Do not speak of duty to me, husband.” You spit, teeth clenching. “You are bound to me, promised.” 

There it is again. That dull throb behind the sapphire in his socket causes him such nausea that he closes his sole eye. “I know of my vows to you.”

He says your name with a sigh, almost like it pains him even to utter it. 

Your stomach clenches, although your face remains stoic. You had tried with him.

Had kissed his wet lips and shared his breaths, had held him in a tender embrace on the night of your wedding, supple fingers ghosting over collarbones, bellies full of wine.

You should have known.

It was too good to be true. He could not overlook his internal turmoil, nor quench his thirst for misery. His self-pitying is too strong, you think. 

In truth, you had foolishly thought you both had come to an understanding – some sort of reassurance to one another in terms of trying. 

He had given you his word. 

“I do not think you do. I have stood in your corner far longer than I should have, only for you to toss it back in my face. Is this what you make of our union? A jest, an act of sheer folly?” You release your grip, clapping your hands together as his eye burns through the thin material covering your figure.

Is that what you think? 

He would have been a fool to let the thought cross his mind. Your time apart has proven that to him; admitting his love for you to be solid, unwavering even amid a war he had senselessly acted in – no – continues to. 

Aemond’s lip twitches, a sneer forming moments later as he stands abruptly. You jump back in sudden surprise, bottom landing on the floor, hands splayed out to cushion yourself, yet it makes your shoulders ache with pain. 

“You do not know me.”

His hushed spoken words are true, almost like he had to fight something in his scrambled mind to get them out. Blinking rapidly, you crane your neck upward to look at his tall frame, towering, yet broken, spine bending slightly. “I have tried to be near you– “

“Then allow yourself to be! The Gods only know how many nights I grow restless.” You seethe, rising, hands pressing down the front of your gown to dust off dirty palms. Your nose hairs burn. 

Fire. Warmth. It fills your senses as quickly as his disrespect. 

Exhaling loudly, you await with gooseflesh littering the expanse of your arms, reaching underneath the hem of your dress, pebbling sensitive nipples.

Through the darkness, the small gleam of unshed tears presses behind your eyes, threatening to leak on warm cheeks and crumble the exterior you had worked so hard as a Lannister to create. 

Have you disgusted him so much? 

“I- I cannot be as close as I desire. No matter how hard you want me to. I yearn to touch you,” He moves forward, the muscles in his arms flexing as he takes your head in his hands, lips but a hair's breadth away from yours. 

It is cool, seeping through your pores, lulling you into a state of ease you cannot recall feeling elsewhere. This is the first time he’s laid his hands upon the smoothness of your skin in weeks, lacking in the roughness he had shown you previously.

There’s a need that coils itself in the swell of your belly, spreading to the rest of your body as your blood rushes to your ears, heart pounding erratically.  Leaning into his touch, you swallow harshly, jaw clenching. 

There was a war. Both in your body and out there beyond the walls of the Keep, yet you could only focus on one.

“Then why do you not?”

“I am not someone you wish to have.” His thumbs circle under your cheekbones, featherlight. “A weakness in me stalls my efforts at happiness with you.” Nor did he want to disappoint. 

That aspect would always etch itself in the crevices of his soul. The desire to please, to be acknowledged as the man he’s tried tirelessly to mold himself into had become him. What he once was does not matter. 

It can’t.

“You cannot decide that for me, Aemond. I refuse to live out the rest of my days with you dragging bitterness and longing by its tongue. Do you not see how devoted I am to you despite the blood that has coated your hands.” You angle your face to press a kiss to what skin on his right hand your lips can reach. “I want only what you can offer me, no matter how horrible.”

Aemond’s self-restraint snaps as easily as his temper when he finds himself devouring your mouth, a man starved. Need courses through him, sends a shiver up his spine so violently that you can’t help but gasp in the heat of his mouth, as he drags you toward the bed.

When you pull away, your nose skims against his scar, and his hands slide down your arms, finding purchase on the dips of your waist, gripping the fabric stuck to your skin. “Let me have you.”

It’s a demand that sends his tongue delving into the dip below your jaw, above the pulse point in your neck as he suckles, nipping an array of red blooms down to your chest.

The One-Eyed Prince had never been presented with such an easy task as this, and never was he so eager to fulfill one’s desire whilst he licked stripes between what expanse of the valley of your breasts he could reach, a sense of pride surging through him as you moan lightly, threading your hands through his hair, gripping it at the root. 

“Never have I laid my lips upon flesh so soft,” he murmurs, as you sit above him.

You could believe his words tonight, under the light of a flame — something he seems to be made of as he peels your nightgown off swiftly, letting it sit at your waist. Your bare cunt throbs as his cock lightly brushes over your folds, slick with arousal and the urge to be filled with him completely. When you lift yourself from his face, you drag a finger down his jaw, watching the way his chest rises in anticipation before your hand curls around his throat, squeezing his windpipe.

His staggered groan is hearty, straight from his throat as he throws his head back, eye screwed shut, and legs stiff beneath you with the added gyration of your hips. Being at your mercy excites him; stimulates him beyond belief when you start panting and Gods, he will never tire of hearing it. 

“Such a good boy” 

The sight of him is one you’d ingrained in the foreground of your mind until the second your lungs could no longer take in breath. You truly had never seen anyone more hauntingly beautiful than Aemond. 

The tip of his cock leaks at your praise, lubricating the rest of him, mixing with your fluids, slick with need, ready for you all the same. 

You’re trying to find relief as his whimpers send jolts of shivers running up your spine, raising the hairs on the back of your neck, hooded eyes admiring him pinned beneath you with interest. The muscle of his tongue glides over teeth, shiny and saturated, calloused fingers indenting your skin from his grasp. Pain has never been so pleasant to you as it is in this moment, sweet friction creating a sensation so invigorating that you clench around nothing, gasping, begging.

“Please…” Is all you manage to pant before you climax, a pathetic mewl sounding from your throat as you get off by slicking yourself over his hardness.

He hasn’t even sheathed himself within you, yet you’ve come undone – an action that elicits a rumbling groan, physically flipping you over, head gently hitting one of the expansive pillows. Rough fabric irritates the pads of fingers, running over embroidery before they’re firmly clutched, scrunching under your hold. 

Your god hovers between your legs, forcing them apart, his nails now digging into the fat of your thighs, gathering your shared exhilaration before two digits curl into you, immediately trapped between your walls when you clench at the intrusion.

“My wife.” He whispers, cool breath fanning your face.

And it isn’t until he lays his violet eye upon you – although your lips satiate his hunger – the flames of your touch singing his flesh, you realize that he did not love you. 

[tinydefector]

Hello! How are you? This is my first time requesting so I hope this is okay, but can I request a shorter scenario g1 Optimus, Ratchet, Jazz and Ironhide with a human s/o lives for chaos? They would point at Megatron and say ‘bitch’ just for the reaction. 🩵

Cursing Megatron out

Ps I'm sleep deprived af it's 12am right now and just finished this so enjoy.

Word count: 2.3k

Warning: description of fighting, swearing

Ratchet masterlist

Ironhide masterlist

Jazz masterlist

Optimus prime Masterlist

________________

Optimus Prime

They yell loudly as Megatron goes to grab them, they smash him in the face with a tire iron as he is then tackled by Optimus. The Decepticon leader had ruined their date night. They flip him off as Optimus throws Megatron across the ground, his servo wraps around them quickly pulling them closer as they scramble up onto his shoulder. "Eat shit and die Fuck face!" They yell at Megatron. 

Optimus clutched their small form protectively against his plating, battling protocols roaring. Had circumstances been different, the Prime would have roared in fury at your fierce defence against the tyrant but he was dealing with trying to keep them safe. 

Megatron howled, clutching a fist to his dented face as energon streamed between digits. His optics blazed murder, craving nothing more than to snuff the fluttering spark of Optimus' and the human he held so closely. 

"You've made a grave error this day, little beast. No corpse shall hide you from my wrath!" Megatron bellowed, brandishing his fusion cannon as if to raze the very earth. His field screamed promised agony that sent lesser mechs scampering for shelter.

Optimus vented his battle mask into place, tucking them securely against the safety of his backstrut. weapons primed and wrathful fields promising eons of hurt against any who dared to touch his Human.    

"You shall not harm them, Megatron. Leave. now. while your spark yet functions," Optimus warned in a voice low and in a heavy growl that sounded feral and unlike the Prime.

"Maybe you should get Shockwave to give you a facial reconciliation!, oh wait I did it already!" They sneer back from Optimus' shoulder at Megatron. Their teeth are bared at him as they snarl. If anyone else had seen the human they would have thought they were an animal.

Optimus suppressed an amused sigh at their show of fangs, so small yet fearless against the monster terrorising his people for millennia.  Megatron bellowed in foaming rage, lunging toward where they perched upon Optimus's armoured pauldron. "Insolent pest! I shall grind your bones to powder and force-feed them to - aggh!"

A well-placed shot from Optimus's ion blaster struck the warlord, toppling the tyrant shrieking to the dirt. "Last warning, Megatron. Leave. or face me," Optimus rumbled, field pulsing protectiveness intertwined with fierce Protection.  

With a snarl Megatron takes off. Once both Optimus and his human lover settle from the adrenaline and battle protocols. Optimus cradled their small form within his battle-worn servo, venting slow ex-vapor to purge lingering fumes. His optics dimly regarded their fragile body. 

"That was a foolish act of bravery, little one," Optimus rumbled gently, digit carefully brushing across their  forehead and down their cheek admiring their eyes alight with fire. His spark swelled at the determination.  

"Sorry, I..  I got caught up in the moment, he missed me off ruining date night" they huff out while pressing their face into his neck cabling. Their body shakes from the adrenaline. "I hit Megatron with a tire iron" they whisper as it slowly registers in their own brain.

Optimus vented a soft huff of static, equal parts worry and weary amusement filling his field at their admission. "A valiant act indeed, though foolhardy against one as powerful as he," rumbled Optimus, vocals warm with approval despite the danger of the situation. His optics flicker in fondness. “Please do not do that again” 

Ratchet 

 Megatron let's out a horrific scream as he gets electrocuted. He hadn't noticed the humans who had shoved the taser between the plates of his armour. "Get Tazered Bitch, not so fucking tough now huh?" They shout at the downed Decepticon only to be scooped up by Ratchet. Ratchet swept them into his servo with a staticky huff, deftly dodging the warlord's flailing blows as voltage shocks wracked Megatron's colossal frame. His field buzzed approval at their fearless defence of him. 

"Reckless sparkling! You'll deactivate my rusting struts with stunts like that," Ratchet grumbled, though optics shone bright relief beneath grizzled plating. Megatron howled upon the earth, shaking off aftershocks that would crush the stoutest Autobot, madness glinting a terrifying helm snapped halfway 'twixt beast and machine.

Ratchet backed swiftly from flailing reach, hoisting their small form beyond harm's sight. Ratchet takes off transforming around them before he begins scolding the for how stupid they were, how dangerous it was. And the fact Megatron would personally hunt them now.

"Have you any idea how foolish that stunt was?!" Ratchet's engine revved indignantly even as he sped across the scarred earth, his cabin vibrating with barely-suppressed wrath and equal measure relief. 

His sensors remained fixed upon the precious organic cargo nestled within his altforms cab, monitoring vital readings  "Do you want a personal vendetta from Megatron? Because that's how you get a personal vendetta, you glitched little slagger!" Medical scans analysed each minute shift of breath. 

"Reckless, Just...do not scare me so, small one," Ratchet rumbled quietly, worried and care etched in every bolt and wire. 

"He had it coming Ratchet, plus that Amazon taser is getting a 10/10. 'WORKS GREAT, I Tazed a large alien warlord and he screamed like a bitch, will in fact work on creeps on the street' " they laugh while they look in the revision mirror to make sure they aren't being followed by said Decepticon.

Despite himself, Ratchet's engine sputtered an amused huff at their tone - so fearless in the face of giants who had destroyed armies. "Oh I've no doubt - the reviews certainly won't lack colour!" Ratchet agreed wryly, subtly activating scanners to sweep their escape route while watchful optics remained pinned to their reflection. 

His vents sighed relief upon confirming no stalking signatures upon their trail, enemy or otherwise. Swinging wide the Ark's bunker doors, Ratchet transformed with care not to jostle his delicate cargo. Blue optics peered down aglow with a glare "Come now, troublemaker. No more outings for the next month for you while the oaf licks his wounds." His states while guiding them to the medbay. 

“no fair Ratchet!” 

Jazz

They cling onto Jazz as the bot hides behind a boulder, multiple autobots had been out when the Decepticons had attacked. They are held tightly by Jazz as he debates the best possible to get them out of there unscaved.

Jazz vented softly, hugging their form protectively against his plating as pedefalls rumbled outside their scant cover. 

"Ain't nothin' t'fear, li'l light. Ol' Jazz'll getcha outta here one piece, ya feel me?" he murmured soothing static against their ear, subtly scanning surroundings through plating. An opening presented itself, if he could provide distraction just long enough...

Pressing a swift kiss to their forehead, Jazz.” Go, sweetspark! Ain't got but a klik - I'm right behind ya!" Jazz called desperately over the roar of weapons, swerving and banking with abandon to keep pursuers engaged but alive. 

 "Hey ol' buckets 'a bolts! Over here!" With that, he peeled from cover in a burst of speed, transforming mid-leap to present the biggest possible target, tailfins flared wide. Weapon systems engaged, greeting the three pursuing seekers with enthusiastically snarky exclamations as he led them on a merry chase. His sole purpose in those seconds - buy precious time, before sharply veering back toward cover with afterburners blazing. 

They do take off running but stop as they see Megatron advancing towards Jazz. They aren't far from either bot and in a split moment of bravery or stupidity their shoe is off and being flung right at Megatron's helm. "Your shit ass piece of Junk you lay a fucking hand on my boyfriend and I'll rip you apart with a fucking Magnet and plyers, don't you fucking test me you dipper wearing, goofy as looking supervillan wannabe!" They shout. It make the whole battlefield go almost dead silent. " Yea you fucking hear my bucket head, ill make you wish you were rusting!" They shout again. 

Jazz's optics widened in horror behind his visor, witnessing your defiant act through static-laced vision. Fear gripped his struts like freezing polyhexian tundra. 

Megatron's helm barely shifted from the impact, regarding their small form with optics glinting cruel amusement. His cannon charged with purpose to squash resistance as pointless and fleeting as an organic.

"Foolish creature. Your lives mean less than insects" Megatron sneered, taking ponderous steps their way that may as well have been a funeral march. The field around him broadcast murderous intentions that sent even the seasoned warriors around bolting for cover. 

Jazz would not be denied. With a grief-stricken keen that curdled energon in lines, he flung himself between you and that doom-wielding arm aiming to end what meaning he had left. His field pulsed frenzied protectiveness tangled with pleas no words could voice. 

"Ya want 'em, Megs, you'll hafta go through me first! An' I been dancin' this dance a long time..." Jazz spat static. Jazz was quick to get them out of there grabbing them and taking off. It isn't until they were back at the Ark did he finally transform, arms wrapped around them as he gives the a peace of his mind.

Jazz clutched their body against his chest plates long after abandoning the battle site, fleeing farther than ever felt safe from those sworn to end all he had left. His engine roared wildly, fuel pump pounding faster than any sabotage mission's duration against the relief of delivering them from harm. 

Only within the Ark's fortified bunker did his struts unlock enough to collapse wearily to the floor, holding them close as grateful cries and static escaped in equal measure. "Don't you ever fraggin' do that ta me again, ya hear?" Jazz gasped brokenly at last, cupping their face desperately within his quaking palm. His visor glimmered tears unshed, relief and terror warning in equal measure. 

"Can't lose ya...yer all Ah got left in this mess. Please, li'l light...don' scare me like that." Raw emotion clogged his vocalizer to near uselessness, pressing reverent kisses between choked intakes. 

"He was going right for you baby!, I'm not letting the 3 tonne prick hurt you, so what I lost a shoe next time it will be a hydro flask of salt water and I hope it dents his helm" they state as they grab his face plate returning his kisses with fevor.

Jazz huffed a static-tinged laugh at their fierce declaration, so brave yet trembling in his gentle grasp. His cooling fans cycled accelerated drafts, systems still buzzing from terrors faced alone to shield them from doom's sightless gaze. 

"Frag if ya ain't the bravest thing this side'a Cybertron," Jazz rumbled. He pressed his faceplate into their shoulder holding them tightly, not willing to let go yet. Curling them protectively against the humming mass of his spark, Jazz vented shaky ex-vents. "Mah brave, beautiful li'l light...keep shinin' that fire, sweetspark." Jazz whispered raggedly into their shoulder. 

Ironhide 

 Ironhide shoots at Megatron. His human companion latched to his back as he uses his body as a shield so the war lord couldn't get them. But they were making it rather hard as they tried antagonising Megatron. 

"Damn did they build you like a shit box on Cybertron or did you pick this form yourself!" They shout out. 

Ironhide careened across the scarred terrain, engine roaring as his heavy cannons unloaded volley after volley into the Con warlord's encroaching chassis. Megatron's howls shook the earth, armour blistering under Ironhide's righteous fury for daring to threaten his human lashed securely to broad backstruts.

"That's it, slaggertits, dance for me!" Ironhide bellowed back at Megatron. 

Megatron lunged forward through a hailstorm of plasma, cannons charging in a frenzy to end lives denying his rule. But Ironhide spun on a dime, releasing another blast to cave in an optical relay before transforming ram-tight around you both. 

His engine pounded like the Pit below, field alive with devotion harsh as his bearing yet gentle as newborn sparks flickering against red-and-blue armorweave. When Megatron gets too close they lob a can of WD-40 At him which Ironhide shoots cause it to explode in his face. "Get sunbeam shitlips!" They yell in delight as Ironhide takes off with them trying to get to safety.

"That's enough outta you, squishy," Ironhide rumbled, yet his cannons sang in harmony with your unbound spirit. His mission remained unchanged - shield the light of life, defying all forces that sought to smother its radiance. Ironhide's cannon fire consumed the volatile projectile in a brilliant fireball, engulfing Megatron in inferno. As they take off leaving Megatron in a fireball of energon and wounds. 

"Right in the visual output, squishy!. Primus, I think I'm in love," Ironhide roared instatically, tires biting earth as he tore across the ravaged wastes well beyond enemy sensors. His spark soared like the smelting winds of Vos. Ironhide's engine purred a low rumble as his struts unwound, tension leaching from armour plating now safe. His field pulsed weariness, yet underlying it swirled pride and fierce gratitude for your indomitable spirit so small, yet burned brighter than any star.

"Can't say I approve of y'all's antics out there, squishy. But Primus if you didn't frag up that rustbucket good," Ironhide chuckled, copper-sheened plating creaking in amusement. Never had he witnessed such fearless bravery, nor met a soul so worthy of the praise.

"He had it coming, Ironhide!You're not going to tell prime are you?" They had just faced down Megatron and cursed him out yet they were worried over being ratted out. Ironhide's engine grumbled a tired huff, his massive frame unwinding into a sprawl across the barren earth. He transforms lifting them up into his arms

"I'd be a fool to deny you put the fear of Primus in that rustbucket," Ironhide chuckled. "But Prime's got enough weighin' his wires. Don't need him fryin' more circuits over our antics." A digit gently booped their nose, gaze softening. "Your spark burns brighter than all the Well's glory. Ain't no mech takin' that from you - least of all one as glitching as Megs."

"Our secret?" They asked looking up at him.

"Our secret, squishy.” Ironhide replied, massive frame creaking gently as massive fingers curled to cradle them against his chassis.

Taglist: @angelxcvxc

[contract-crawdad]

Before next week’s Fionna and Cake episode, we can really only guess as to why exactly the Lich explicitly didn’t kill Simon and company, but I wanted to compile all the ideas I’ve already seen!

Spoilers, obviously!

•The most common idea I’ve seen is that, due to the Lich’s connection to Golb, Golbetty is actively intervening to protect Simon. As if telling the Lich ‘No, bad disciple, don’t turn my failwife into ash’.

But that doesn’t quite track.

Golbetty hasn’t really made any visible moves to protect Simon (save for possibly preventing him from putting on the crown) at all up to this point, and even if the Lich not killing him was Betty’s doing, she’s still just leaving Simin alive but otherwise stranded in a dead world in which he will die of starvation.

Additionally, any protection from Golbetty would absolutely not have extended to Fionna and Cake!

•I’ve also seen a lot of people assume the Lich let them live and was playing possum like he did in the Time Room in order to gain access to multiversal travel: sure his own world is out of life, but there’s always more to snuff out in other universes!

But I don’t think there’s any plan here. The Lich makes it very clear that he isn’t initially aware that this is a Simon from another universe, he just thinks his world’s Ice King has come back from the dead.

Even then! Assuming he very quickly did the math and came to the conclusion that there could only be living beings in this world if they came from elsewhere and that waiting would let him hitch a ride out of this world with them and into a new one, he simply does not do that. The portal in the back of Simon’s head is wide open and the Lich does not spring into action and seize the opportunity.

•Similarly flawed is the idea that the Lich cannot harm them due to being in a similar ‘purposeless’ state as when he was stuck in the Time Room.

This one has the least going for it. Jerry is very much able to kill, and Simon Fionna and Cake are all very much able to die.

•This leads into the final possibility that would be really interesting if it were the case. The idea that the Lich just… decided not to do the one thing he’s been known to do, which is murder really good.

Sure, he seems to sputter and fade, but that’s only after seemingly very deliberately releasing the gang from his hold. But why?

Aside from being Golb’s last scholar, the Lich identifies himself twice as the ‘ceaseless wheel’. The imagery that puts to mind is both that of a grinding wheel, constantly grinding away at the life of the world, but also the imagery of moving forward. Progressing. ‘Ceaselessly’ moving towards his goal no matter what.

The Lich himself even goes as far as to say that something has changed. ‘In days of old’ he would have killed them… but then he can’t even finish one of his iconic monologues, even to explain what’s changed. It’s the biggest ‘Eh, why even bother?’ the Lich could give.

He’s eradicated the thing he’s defined himself as. The wheel has ground to a halt, it can’t get itself turning again.

In other words. Simon got it in one: the Lich is (very uniquely) depressed.

[decafdoodlez]

RenRina NSFW Headcanons/Dynamics

A short list of self-indulgent NSFW headcanons and dynamics for my TPoF OC and Fox, though I think some of these could be applicable to Fox x Reader scenarios. ❤️‍🩹

a/n: I am cringe™️, but I am free (part 2), but a little spicier~🌶️ To be honest, I’ve drawn plenty of NSFW, but I’ve never actually written it, so apologies if anything sounds a little disjointed, this is my first time writing anything remotely raunchy! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

word count: 1.1k

warnings/tags: NSFW | written with AFAB OC x Canon in mind, captive/captor themes, toxic dynamic, power imbalance, age difference (both adults are 25+), just lots of fucking headcanons

Marina was a virgin before meeting Fox. Marina had only ever focused on furthering her career, so relationships and sex (or lack thereof) were very much the lowest on her list of priorities in life. (She would’ve been content e-fucking anime boys for the rest of her life, lmao)

In their second livestream, Fox states that it doesn’t matter to him one way or another if she’s a virgin or just inexperienced, though he can’t help but find it adorable seeing Marina fumble her way through and gagging while giving him a blowjob, or her legs giving out and becoming Jell-O immediately from trying to bounce up and down on his knotted member.

Marina isn’t completely clueless about sex, having played 18+ otome hentai games, but putting what she learns in theory from these games into practice is another story. Fox lavishes in her sweet, sweet ignorance, and ever so “lovingly” teaches her everything he knows to get the two of them to the peak of ecstasy.

Despite being a sadist, Fox isn’t only interested in getting himself off. Fox also derives pleasure from getting Marina off. Seeing her go from the prim and proper picture of untouched innocence into a broken, crying, and filthy whore for him and him alone makes his cock twitch at just the thought of it.

Fox at his core is a versatile switch, enjoying roles as dominant or submissive depending on his partner, but because of Marina’s inexperience and role as “pet,” he performs a dominant top role in the bedroom. Though, he does encourage (force) Marina to top him, just to see her buckle under the pressure of having to perform well enough for him as she grinds her hips against his.

Though he has retired Marina from gore torture streams, he still fucks her on camera occasionally, without going too extreme on her in terms of physical pain with the requests that roll in from the chat. These streams are not as popular as his snuff streams, but they still hold an audience of devoted Fox fans who just enjoy watching their favorite furry DILF fuck pretty and sweet little pets.

Fox is not a tit or ass man, to him, they both have their merits. BUT if he had to choose, his preference is for whichever part of his partner is larger, so in this case, Marina’s breasts are his favorite part of her body.

Speaking of Marina’s breasts, her large nipples are quite sensitive and she gains pleasure from them being teased and toyed with. Fox takes advantage of this fact, and often finds himself suckling on her tits and leaving bleeding marks on her areolas like a leech. >:3

Marina’s bust size is 34F, and Fox will never let her get a reduction. But conversely, he doesn’t need her to get an augmentation either; he likes her big naturals just the way they are.

Fox’s cock is an average length at 5 inches from tip to knot, and 6.25 inches from tip to base. The stretch from his knot is absolutely delicious.

Fox’s pubic hair is a thick white fur that trails down from his navel to the base of his shaft. His fur also cutely runs from his lower back into his ass crack, to around his hole and trailing up to his taint and balls. uwu

Fox’s nicknames for Marina as he fucks her are a far cry from the sweet names he usually purrs out for her. Some of his more raunchy favorites are “Fuck doll,” “breeding bitch,” “fuck bunny,” “cum slut,” and “cocksleeve.” His more standard nicknames are “pet,” “naughty little girl/slut/whore,” “crybaby,” “needy little baby,” “baby/babydoll,” and “my (little) girl/baby.”

Though Fox enjoys fucking as a whole, his favorite position would have to be doggy or prone. (Shocker /s) Having one arm pulled back and her face pressed into the surface she’s being bent over is the most intoxicating position for him. Seeing his cock go in and out of her puffy and slick folds while he has a firm handle on her round and reddened ass as she has no way of escaping him pounding into her drives him animalistic.

Marina’s favorite position is missionary. It’s a bit on the safe side and a more standard position, but it makes her feel loved when Fox looks her in the eyes as he slams his cock into her needy hole and his balls slap against her ass.

Missionary may not be Fox’s favorite position, but he does enjoy how romantic it can be. Plus, he gets to watch her breasts flop around rhythmically as he pounds into her.  

Fucking with Fox can go one of two ways, fast & rough/primal, or soft & slow/passionate. It’s all dependent on how he’s feeling. He’s got beastly and feral qualities for sure, but at his core, he is a bit of a romantic, and likes to display that side of himself on occasion.

Despite his age, Fox has better stamina than one could expect for a man pushing 50. He can keep a steady stroke pace, and usually cum twice or three times in a fuck session.

Marina on the other hand taps out quite easily, and whines and cries as she convulses from the overstimulation, while Fox continues to pump in and out of her, chasing his own high.

Fox is not averse to having Marina pass out as he fucks her, but he will smack her face a bit to wake her up if he sees her falling unconscious. He’d just prefer if she’d stay awake as he ruins her. He wants her to remember the feeling of every inch of his cock and how it stretches her out…and unfortunately, “you can’t do that while sleeping, darling.” uwu

Fox gets very excited when hearing Marina’s shrill whimpers and whines. With each mewl that leaves her pretty little lips, his tail thumps harder and faster, and his grip on her supple flesh becomes tighter and rougher.

Fox has taught Marina how to squirt. (Or fucked her well enough to squirt, rather.) The first time she squirted was while he was eating her out, sucking and nibbling on her clit until the last bit of composure inside of her just snapped. After coating his face in her fluids, Marina thoroughly apologized to Fox, thinking she had done something wrong and off-putting by making a mess, ultimately thinking she would be punished for it. However, Fox with a predatory gaze licked his lips then continued to work away to Marina’s sensitive clit, over-stimulating her further to the point of her releasing her juices again and again as she shrieked in the pain derived from the pleasure.

a/n: This list was a bit all over the place, but I feel like I could go on and on, haha. I could certainly do a part two to this! I think I may want to pick a kink and do a one shot for my next writing though. I want to play around with dialogue, hehe. Thank you for reading!~ ❤️‍🩹

[puck-luck]

I always forget Quinns middle name is Jerome I cannot believe Jim and Ellen named him that 😂 but can you do just a little blurb on you making fun of his middle name or saying his full name in an argument?

Because I can't get smut out of my mind or off of my account (nor do I want to), here's your tiniest little blurb before I head to lunch with my grandmother LOL:

"Tell me," Quinn prods. His fingers move in tandem with the prodding of his voice, petting over your walls and nudging that spot inside of you. "I want to know who's making you feel this good. Tell me, baby, who's making you come?"

"You," you breathe out, writhing against him.

"All of this for me?" Quinn teases, his nose brushing against yours.

"All yours, Quinton Jerome Hughes," you agree. Your tone matches his, a little giggly. You tilt your chin up, asking for a little kiss.

He snuffs out a laugh, tiny and brief. "Full government name, eh?" He says with a smile. His fingers continue to move inside of you. "I'm making you feel so good that you use my full name?" His nose is scrunched up, crinkling with fondness. His thumb rubs gentle circles over your clit as he teases you verbally, extending the sensation to your physical pleasure.

"You asked who was making me feel this good," you sigh out, grinding on his thick fingers inside of you. He's squeezed three inside of you this time and it's almost as good as his cock. He makes you come all the same, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips while he thrusts inside of you.

Terrible ending, but the full name thing is so funny. If I had a nickel for each pasty white boy I know/know OF with the middle name "Jerome," I'd have four nickels. That's a LOT.

[rs-hawk]

An orc who wakes up one day to a shivering satyr? shenanigans ensue?

Orcs have always been known for their brutality. Satyrs for their docile nature. Everything that an Orc would snuff out if given the chance.

So, when the Orc woke up to the small creature, shivering and afraid, curled up beside him, he was confused. He prodded the thing away, and it just looked up at him with those dark, innocent eyes. He looked around, as if suddenly remembering why he has snuck inside the tent of a war driven creature.

“There were humans… I, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, but made no effort to move away. “I thought if they came for me, and saw you, they would leave me alone.”

The Orc smirked slightly, taking the chin of the small one in his large, calloused hands. He was so small. Cute. Defenseless. He could easily crush him with his bare hands. “And you think you’re safe with me?”

The Saytr’s lower lip trembled, and his tail twitched nervously. His ears pushed back, but he didn’t look away. “Safer than a human.”

The Orc laughed. His tusks teased the Saytr’s neck as he breathed in his scent. He groaned softly. How could a creature that never left the forest smell so sweet? His cock began to harden as he wondered how soft he must be. How warm his skin was giving him ideas of how warm his mouth, and more, must be.

The Saytr shivered again at the feeling of the Orc’s tusks, and couldn’t help but lean into him, the sharp tips digging into his fur. The intoxicated haze he usually lived under as a member of Dionysus’ entourage faded to nothing, leaving him sore and a bit tired, but he feels more like himself than he had in a long time.

Before either of them knew it, the Orc was on top of the Saytr. His hands roughed and calloused from war and a life of fighting, light and gentle against the fur of the smaller male under him. The Saytr let out a soft moan, arching towards him, his cock hardening excitedly.

It took a little while for the Orc to work the Saytr up. His fingers pushed down his throat, watching with hunger and awe as the goat man gagged and choked on them, his eyes rolling back into his head as he grinded against him. The Orc’s cock throbbed as he worked one, then two of his fingers inside the Saytr.

“Please, please,” he whined and moaned, clinging to him. “M-more.”

“You want more, Little One?” the Orc chuckled as he pumped his fingers inside of him faster, watching his cock dribble with precum.

The Saytr could only nod and whine in response, his eyes half lidded as he’s prepped and stretched open. Finally, the Orc slid his fingers out of him and replaced them with his cock. He had to move slowly, feeling him stretch around every thick inch. The Saytr moaned and clung to him, hiding his face in the Orc’s chest. Tears wet the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t stop begging for more. For him to bottom out inside of him. He couldn’t help but wanting everything he could give him.

Finally, painfully slowly, the Orc pushed inside of him fully. The Saytr had tears streaming down his face as he clung to him, his tail twitching as he tried to push back against him, as if asking for even more.

“Such a desperate Little One you are,” the Orc groaned as he watched him fuck himself back on his cock as his own was twitching and dribbling.

“I just-, it’s, you’re so,” the Saytr stammered, looking up at him as the Orc pulled his face away from his chest.

“You can use your words, can’t you?” he prodded, starting to thrust again, watching his eyes roll back into his head with every movement of his hips.

“You’re so good. So good. So good,” he whined, grabbing his hands where they held his small hips down to the makeshift bed.

He thrusted in and out of him, his movements becoming rougher, more erratic as his orgasm approached. As he got closer, he started to pump the Saytr’s cock, making him cry out in pleasure. He bucked his hips against his hand, babbling and begging.

“Cum for me then if you’re going to keep begging,” the Orc grunted in the Saytr’s ear, and that’s all it took to push him over the edge.

He clung to him as he finished, his cum coating the Orc’s large hand. He kept pumping slowly, making him whine and writhe under him. As he kept fucking him and teasing his cock, he suddenly rams inside of him. The Saytr cried out as he clung to the Orc, his cum being pushed deeply inside of him, but still leaking out from how much of it there was.

Even after cumming, the Orc rocked his hips against him, letting him feel his softening cock before he finally pulled out. The Saytr reached for his neck weakly, and the Orc let his weak little companion draw him towards him, sharing their first messy and passionate kiss.

[infernalwitxhcraft]

Semi-Quick Witch Tip: Can we please stop overdressing the damn candles?! I know they look pretty, but they are a serious fire hazard (coming from a firefighting witch). I'm here to explain how to do it, in the safest way possible. Firstly, never dress with more oil than needed. Essential oils and oils with specific intentions (money oil, come-to-me oil, protection, etc.) are what you're looking for, if you're learning how to do this. You can make your own - eventually, in time, I will share my recipes friends. Rub it into your fingertips, clap your fingers together a few times to activate the energy, and start rubbing the candle with it. Upwards to attrract/bring in, downwards to banish/bring away from you. Start with two to three drops and see where it gets you, because it usually is the perfect amount for tapers and chimes. Big pillar candles usually need four to six drops. If we're talking tealights, one to two drops is enough. If you've got a glass-encased 7-day candle, do one to two drops on the top and then as you light it each time, put another drop on so the candle is being dressed throughout the burn. Next step for any candle type: sprinkle your herbs onto the candle. Grind them in a mortar & pestle so you don't have large chunks, which isn't safe as they tend to create large flames or sometimes spark. Once they are nice and ground, sprinkle enough to where the candle is lightly coated with the herbs. Trust me, that is enough for your spell. Heavy coating is not necessary. And please, for the love of the gods, do not leave your candle unattended. Ever. I don't care if someone tells you that seven-day candle can't stop burning. Snuff it out and resume when you can be home and alert to your surroundings. Same goes for sleeping. Have I been to calls where candles are the cause of a house fire while someone is sleeping? Absolutely, it's a common cause of fires. Have people died or gotten seriously injured? Yep. It's not worth it. Trust me.

Crystals, whole flowers, charms, and large chunks of herbs should be taken out if you make or purchased a candle that has a lot going on. While these are beautiful, I find them to be better for decoration elsewhere, never to be burned, as you will need to carefully remove these objects by melting the wax first (take a lighter and carefully run over the top). Not to mention, I think the work of the witches that make them deserves to be displayed. Place them onto an altar or shrine dedicated to a deity, spirit, or daemon that you feel would enjoy it.

Please, please, PLEASE practice fire safety. Get yourself a fire extinguisher. Make sure it's not only full, but in date. If it isn't, it's time for a new one. If anyone has questions about how to use one, feel free to drop your comment below and I will answer :) Sand also helps, but know you may need to use a lot and regardless, keep an extinguisher ready. Type ABC is good for the general house since it is multipurpose, and a type K for the kitchen should be in that room as well.

Perhaps I'll do a fire safety post for witches in the future, that way y'all can hear it from a firefighter. In the meantime, please practice fire safety!

[tbzhub]

What Happens at Night

Pairing: vampire!Eric Sohn x afab!reader

Summary: You've got a thirsty boyfriend. Or do you?

Warnings: MDNI, very brief and vague mention of reader being on their period (very much alluded to I don't even use the word period) , smut, oral (f. receiving)

Rating / Genre: M, established relationship au

WC: 1000

Artist Note: Something short for October! @the-boy-meets-evil gracias for reading the first part!

Tagged: @deoboyznet @everynewie @gyupremacy

m.list tag list

You’d never seen your boyfriend like this, hands hasty and rough as he manhandles you away from your spot on the sofa.

“Baby, wh—

You get kissed into silence, and Eric’s cold hands smooth over your shoulders before they rest tenderly at the base of your throat. His fingers run along the supple skin of your neck, causing you to shiver as you pull away.

“Eric…?” you whisper, not particularly scared, but apprehension stirred within you.

“No, baby. Never. Am I thirsty? Yes, but that’s not what I want. ” He reassures, smiling warmly, and you see the very tips of his fangs peeking out past his lips.

His hand slides away from your neck and glides down your front. He doesn’t miss his opportunity to grope your chest on his way further south, squeezing both breasts before he puts his focus back on the task at hand.

“This is what I want.” He asserts, hand cupping your crotch, and your eyes go wide.

“Baby, but I’m still on—

“I know.” Eric cuts in as his fingers massage your fabric-covered pussy. You see his tongue dart out to lick his upper lip as if he’s about to have a heavenly meal.

This was something that you’ve never tried before. Maybe you should feel scared, letting a vampire go down on you during such a time… but Eric’s not just any vampire. He’s your boyfriend. He loves you, and he’d never hurt you. If this is what he wants, you’d be willing to try. You stare back at his piercing gaze. His eyes remain soft like he was your usual unassuming boyfriend. Yet, the curve of his lips tells you otherwise; all you do is nod your head once, and it’s like a switch inside him has turned on. 

Your lounge shorts get harshly pulled down your legs, and you nearly get whiplash as you try to keep up with Eric’s actions. He lies on the sofa, and you get jostled around until your plush thighs rest on either side of his head. You brace yourself against the armrest to regain your balance as your underwear gets roughly pulled to the side. His grip on the lace is tight, and he tugs on the delicate fabric to draw you closer to his face. 

Eric’s mouth is sealed around you as his tongue grazes through your folds, pulling a soft sigh out of you. A satisfied groan radiates through your pussy once you settle into his hold and put your entire body weight on him.

“I’m not hurting you am I?” You breathe out while looking down to check on him, and you get met with a glare that snuffs your concern.

He smacks your ass for added measure before closing his eyes, and his face shifts into the picture of satisfaction. His fangs tease your skin now and then as he eats you out lazily, and the subtle pricks spike your arousal. Goosebumps rise on your skin when you feel a more vivid scrape against your pussy, and you let out a shaky moan. Eric is beneath you, but you still feel utterly vulnerable to his will, trusting him to control his urges and resist temptation.

You watch his brows knit together as he delves deep, tasting you feverishly with wanton strokes of his tongue. He tugs on your lace panties, using them to lure you into a slow grind until you're riding his face. He crosses his solid arms over your thighs as he lets you use his mouth exactly as he was hoping for. Your hips move in quick thrusts, running your clit over the firm tip of his tongue over and over while his lips lewdly slurp up all of your pussy’s wetness.

His cool hands come up to play with your tits, fondling them as you rock back and forth on his face, beginning to search for that overwhelming feeling. Your eyes fall closed as you moan softly, and your hands card through his hair while you buck your hips rapidly before your voice gets loud.

“Eric…” 

You begin to chant his name repeatedly, getting louder each time as you feel your orgasm creep through your body…

“Eric!” You cry out loud, and your eyes fly open. Your bedroom blurs into focus, you wake up covered in sweat, and your breathing is ragged.

There’s no way that was just a fucking dream.

Eric’s voice cuts through the silence of your bedroom, causing you to jump as you shift to look in his direction.

“Soooo… What were we doing? Or rather, what was I doing to make you call out my name like that?” He asks with a snicker and a boyish grin on his lips.

Your face grows hot with embarrassment, and you sheepishly smile as the events of your dream replay in your mind. That was a great dream.

“Not telling.” You tease as he climbs on top of you, gracing you with his best pouty face, and you have to close your eyes to avoid giving in to his cuteness.

“Pleeeeease. I promise I won’t laugh. Maybe I wanna know so I can make your dream a reality.” His words drip with seduction, but you don’t fall for it, humming with a wide smirk on your face instead.

“Mmm… I don’t think you could recreate that dream, baby.” His eyebrow quirks up at that, curiosity mounting.

“Oh, come on! Now you have to tell me.” He begs, leaning in and kissing your temple while he smoothes his hand over your arm. 

He’s looking at you with those eyes that tell you he will flip you over and have you pressed into the bedsheets in five minutes flat. The cheeky glint in his eye matches the sexy curve along his lips, and you can’t help but give in.

“I’ll tell you while you fuck me. But we’ll need to put down a towel.”

“Deal,” Eric replies with a smirk, hands already grabbing at the hem of your shirt.

[the-black-manor]

Read Me

Phantom, 26, he/him, transmasc, pansexual, polyamorous/non-manogamous, monster. I have many forms. Vampire, dark fae, demon king, incubus, and naga are my favorites.

Main blog @vampyr-boyfriend

PATREON KO-FI MASTERLIST WISHLIST

DNI: Minors, pedos, homophobes, terfs, bigots, republicans, racists, nazis

Turn Ons: Breeding, mpreg, pregnancy, knotting, terato, oversized cocks, cum inflation, bladder desperation, bladder bulge, piss, primal play, pet play, knife play, fucking wounds, temperature play (especially ice), bondage, choking, oviposition, edging, overstim, orgasm denial, double penetration, tentacles, belly or throat bulge, clothed erections, grinding/dry humping, vampires, royalty, furries, rut/heat, marking, biting, blood play, noncon (to a degree), cnc, somno, hypnotism, mind breaking, corruption, corruption of holy figures, free use, god complex, wealth, master/pet, dom/sub, voyerism, exhibitionism,

Hard Limits: Scat, incest, me being peed on, snuff, beating, me being choked, feet, vomit, farting, guns, spit, drugs, alcohol, weed, feederism

So/So: Littles, dd/lg, slurs, dumbification, humiliation, rape

[the-overthinktank]

Been trying to listen to more Terry Pratchett books recently because they are overall, pretty good (Monstrous Regiment and Going Postal have been the best so far). Currently started on Snuff, and man. Does the subject of marriage grind straight writers' brains to a halt and suddenly the only possible humorous character dynamic they can think of for a married couple is "woman browbeats husband to come out of every argument in the right" and "woman makes demands coded in a layer of passive aggression that only her husband can understand"? Is marriage a vortex into which all other character traits vanish, replaced by more or less clever rewordings of punchlines you might find in boomer cartoon Hallmark cards?