#also this is over 1200 words i-

[bryverros]

ao3 writers are my heroes. i love cherish and appreciate every single one of you, your dedication is so so admirable even though you sometimes get inconveniently sold for body parts and it takes you longer than a week to update

[solstheimtxt]

i really wanna do the whole post me3 fic thing but also like

[volfoss]

i need to be free of this fucking bookkkkk i need to see lestats totally in character rant about how people didnt like memnoch and anne rice decided to take it personally next book

[wickedhawtwexler]

not to brag but i have been absolutely on fire with my writing these last few days 💅

[wynnyfryd]

@messessentialist told me her friend called to rant about spotting an “upsettingly beautiful boy in a tj maxx” and i vomited 1200 words about it, enjoy

���

fic idea: chrissy and eddie work together at tj maxx. one afternoon a guy comes in who’s so hot that it kinda just pisses eddie off? bc like, who does this gorgeous asshole think he is??? coming in here and popping his hip at eddie’s counter, like, does he even know how uncomfortable it is to start chubbin’ up in skinny jeans?? that shit chafes!

so eddie gets all flustered and responds by getting an attitude with the guy because he has zero chill (and also because the dude’s iced coffee is sweating a ring all over eddie’s counter, and so help him if his manager gets on his ass one more time about keeping his station tidy—)

“did you need help finding anything else today?” eddie sneers. “coasters, perhaps?”

upsettingly hot guy looks confused for a second before he follows eddie’s pointed glance at the plastic starbucks cup leaving a cold puddle on the laminate, and then he sneers right back; adjusts the ray bans nestled in his perfect honey brown hair and looks eddie up and down — long, slow, one eyebrow lifting in subtle elitist disapproval.

“what?” he snorts, “hot topic wasn’t hiring?”

oh, fuck you very much!

so eddie’s all ‘nemesis acquired’ and holds the biggest grudge of all time. makes a sworn enemy and a boogeyman out of the guy, turns him into urban legend, starts blaming the Upsettingly Beautiful Man for every little thing that goes wrong in his life — at work, at home, at band practice; no place is safe from the dreaded UBM.

“he’s not a fucking cryptid!” gareth snaps one day at rehearsal, chucking a drumstick at eddie’s head. “just track him down and bone already so you can shut the hell up!”

“wouldn’t he just talk about him more after they have sex?” jeff wonders, to which gareth narrows his eyes and raises his second drumstick as a threat.

meanwhile, eddie’s cute coworker chrissy (who he’s become surprisingly good friends with, to the point of referring to her as his work wife) gets a girlfriend. robin’s sooooo pretty, and soooo nice, and sooooo tall, eddie, did you know how tall she is?

yes, chrissy, he’s supremely aware of a stranger’s five-foot-eight-and-a-half stature now, thank you.

“you have to meet her!” chrissy gushes, bouncing up onto her toes.

eddie hangs another shirt. “you have to chill.”

“hey!” she pouts, pixar princess cute. “you wouldn’t tell the sun to dull its shine, would you?”

“i mean, i would, but i doubt the giant ball of plasma cares what i want.”

“okay, whatever, eeyore.” she rolls her eyes but she physically can’t stop beaming even as she does it, and eddie finds himself melting under it — some sort of radiant area attack coming from the apples of this girl’s cheeks, he swears, because the next thing he knows he’s agreeing to go to rando new girlfriend’s housewarming party this weekend so he can meet her properly.

only he doesn’t get to meet her properly, because when he shows up to the party the two bedroom apartment is packed with people he’s never seen, and it’s loud as fuck in here and he’s sweating through his leather from the six flights of stairs he had to climb to reach the place, so he steps through a sliding door out to the balcony and lo and behold, if it isn’t Upsettingly Beautiful Man looking upsettingly beautiful — positively fucking divine, actually, the last wisps of fuchsia sunset catching the gold streaks in his hair and dotting the tip of his flawless nose. Seriously, does this dude have any flaws? A scar, a birthmark, an unsightly ingrown hair? Eddie can’t even see a single blackhead for fuck’s sake.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” the dude mutters, turning to look at him, and, “oh, my god, you again?”

“uh.”

“i’ve got a fucking coaster this time,” the guy says, lifting his solo cup and giving it a little shake to point out the cork round sitting underneath it, “so if that’s what you came out here to berate me for, then you’ll have to think of something else.”

“uh,” eddie says again, because he has no idea what brought this on but he’s pretty sure it has shit all to do with him, and pretty boy’s really working himself up now, arms moving in sharp gestures as he paces back and forth on the short balcony.

“not that it even matters if i didn’t have a coaster, because this is my house! i can do what i want with my own fucking stuff in my own fucking apartment, nance, i don’t— uh…”

pretty boy’s face blossoms rose petal red, a heavy blush creeping up his jawline as he catches himself mid rant and folds in on himself, crossing his arms over his chest with a sheepish expression.

eddie’s always had a thing for shepherding.

“i’m listening,” he says, popping a cigarette in his mouth and holding the pack out in offering. “if you care to vent.”

the guy — steve, eddie finds out — tells him all about his controlling ex-girlfriend as they work their way through two cigarettes each, the sun slipping away to reveal a full topaz moon, big and low and close, ripe citrus bending the branch of a tree. nance was a real piece of work by the sounds of it, and eddie feels like an absolute shit for the way he treated steve, who had apparently just gotten dumped the night before they met and had been out shopping for a “please take me back” present.

“like that was ever gonna work,” steve mumbles, ashing over the railing. “pathetic. anyway, sorry i was rude to you that day or whatever.”

“you weren’t.”

“nah, i was.” steve shifts his weight, knocks their shoulders together. “not that you didn’t deserve it.”

“yeahhhh,” eddie agrees, cringing at himself. “sorry.”

“all good. so what’s your story then, huh? who pissed in your cheerios that day?”

eddie blames the alcohol fumes wafting from steve’s cup — a justification that makes perfect sense and would totally hold up in a court of law — for what he says next.

“honestly? you.”

steve’s face is so cartoonishly offended that eddie busts out laughing, eyes crinkling, head thrown back.

“oh, so you’re just an asshole,” steve nods sagely. “first cute guy to flirt with me in six weeks is a lunatic. love that for me.”

“no, i—” eddie laughs, “okay, we’re coming back to how you think i’m cute, but i just meant, uh-”

oh, fuck it. eddie’s never been good at holding his cards close to the chest. more of a 52 pick up kinda guy, historically, and why change now?

“you were so gorgeous it, like, genuinely upset me for a second,” eddie admits, running his tongue over his lip. he stubs out his cigarette; turns to look right at steve. “like, uh, like cuteness aggression or some shit.”

steve mirrors his posture, leaning an elbow on the railing, nearly chest to chest. “so you are crazy,” he smiles.

“that’s correct.” eddie swallows.

steve moves in to close the gap. “good crazy?”

“fun crazy, so i’m told.”

“i’m gonna kiss you if that’s cool.”

“very”

the kiss tastes like ripe citrus

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Different positions w/ Miguel 🤭

okay I have MANY thoughts, scooch closer and listen up

word count: ~1200

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

18+ fem!reader, mdni !!

firstly, I think he's a simple guy when it comes to sex. he doesn't really like anything too crazy or too experimental. he's a sexy beautiful HUNK of a man, but I think he's particular in who he's intimate with, so I don't think he does one-night stands. he much prefers to do it with the woman he loves, simple

missionary

✧ I feel like it would be the most intimate and intense, most passionate too

✧ he loves to cage you against the mattress, and his big huge muscly arms would be either side of you and he'd be so close to you, omg?? like literally no space to breathe ! ? ! ?

✧ he'd be only focused on you- your eyes, your facial expressions and your noises. solely you

✧ he also loves the feeling of your boobs pressed against his big ol' man titties

✧ loves to take it slow in this position, like he's making love to you. fucking you like he loves you. it’s turning me on too much to think of a way to expand this thought (😶)

✧ kisses your throat and neck a lot too !!

✧ loves to put a pillow under your hips to hit into you in a tad deeper

✧ he loves when you wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging and holding onto him

✧ he can feel you swallow him and clamp around him much more in this position and it does wild things to him

✧ cups your jaw and holds behind your neck

✧ he tells you how pretty you are

doggy

✧ he's a BEAST when fucking you from behind, I feel like the position is naturally that, but he probs gets carried away

✧ he's maybe a little rough on your hips and ass cheeks, squeezes you and leaves a ton of marks and scratches

✧ fucks you into the mattress for sure!! even if you collapse against the bed, he'd grip your waist, pulling your ass back up so he can plough into you

✧ sometimes he forgets how BIG he actually is (not just his dick) probs crushes you a lil, but he’s angelic and it's cute, so it's okay <3

✧ he reaches around to circle your clit with his thumb

✧ kisses your back and shoulder when he leans over you too

✧ you go extra cockdrunk in doggy, and he loves it

✧ fucks you like he hates you

✧ he tells you how good you are for him, how you take him so well

cowgirl

✧ he def likes control so this isn't always one he opts for. but if he's inside of you, he literally doesn't care

✧ but sometimes if he's had a long day, he loves to have you straddle his hips and look up at you when you rock over his cock

✧ if he's led down, he grips your upper thighs, waist, hips, the lot- just anything he can reach. he guides you over him if you're being too slow, or if you're teasing him too much. he prefers up and down, rather you circling your hips/ side to side

✧ but if he's sat on a chair and you're on top, he loves to bury his face in your tits. his arms would be wrapped around you, fingers spread wide, gripping your back and practically holding you to his face

✧ plays with your nipples too (tongue or thumb and index)

✧ and bc he's just so fucking big and tall, you'd probs be in each other's eye line when you're straddling his lap (maybe?? depending on proportions)

✧ but slow and kinda sensual, he def swallows your moans and whimpers

✧ he tells you how good you look (in case you're insecure about the angle) and tells you that you have pretty tits

spooning

✧ feel like this is a slow, easy morning classic for him

✧ and SO touchy, omg ????????

✧ plays with your tits from behind and teases your clit too

✧ kisses the back of your neck, shoulder area

✧ skims his fangs over your skin too

✧ dirty talk… behind your ear… quiet and gravelly… raspy and strangled (good lord)

✧ you’re tighter in position so he goes extra slow as he knows he won’t last

✧ he tells you how good you feel

against the wall

✧ he's a hunk so he carries you like it's nothing

✧ holds you up against the wall from under your ass (his huge hands spread over your cheeks) pinning you to it as he fucks up into you

✧ he loves it when you grip his meaty shoulders for support

✧ ESPECIALLY when your face drops into the nape of his neck and you kinda go all limp

✧ when you whine and cry out against him… it drives him crazy !!

✧ he tells you how good you're making him feel

extras, bc ily and I just can’t stop myself 😌

✧ ladies first!! he's a firm believer that you should cum at least once before he gets inside you, let alone cum. but that's different depending on the session, ie, you sucking him off or you being the dom

✧ praises you, sometimes degrades you, but it’s sprinkled in praise (“pretty dirty girl” or something)

✧ doesn’t mean to hurt you, but he always kisses and caresses the parts he hurt

✧ he's big on eye contact

✧ very touchy and grabby

✧ he can’t relax if you can’t, he needs you to be into it, ready and in the mood, if not, he can’t fuck you (it feels wrong) so he always preps you to assure that

✧ king of “oh, yeah?” and “hm?”

✧ calls you a bunch of sweet terms of endearment

✧ rambles spanish curses when he cums

✧ loves to cum inside. breeding kink

✧ he’s HUGE so maybe has a size kink

✧ love when you use him for your own need, like thigh riding, loves that shit. he always encourages you, touches and holds you, praises you as well

✧ hip and thigh kinda dude. loves your tummy if you have a bit of squidge

✧ he’s a needy bottom

✧ grunts and groans !! he doesn't whimper (unless he's overstimulated, then he makes these strained and strangled noises, and a couple incoherent blabbers)

✧ heavy on communication (he wants to know that you're enjoying yourself too) and for you to tell him he's making you feel good bc that turns him ON

✧ AFTERCARE ???? NEXT LEVEL OMG especially if it was an intense session

✧ he'd be so sweet and gentle with you after (bc he loves you, duh)

✧ would reassure you, saying that he doesn't actually think you're a whore or a slut. it was just something spur of the moment

✧ wash together, then eat and watch a movie or something

✧ treats you like a princess… his princess 😩

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

artwork by shuploc**

[knifeforkspooncup]

Please click for better resolution!

I made this silly little art, and then like a being possessed, wrote 1200 words of pure unadulterated hogwash to go with it (ficlet below the cut)

Duck Duck Goose

Rating: Teen and up

"Shouldn't be feeding them bread." Crowley said, trying and failing to ward off an irate goose with the pointed toe of his boot. "It’s brioche." Aziraphale chided, as if that explained anything. A nattering crowd of ducks was forming at his feet like eager disciples. Crowley didn't ask where he'd gotten the brioche. He'd stuck his chilly hands into Aziraphale's pockets enough times now to know the list of things the angel kept on his person at any given moment was - well, impressive was one word for it. In the way a magpie's hoard of oddities was impressive. A brioche was quite pedestrian, really. "Brioche then.” The goose had moved on to striking repeatedly for his ankles, more pit viper than waterfowl. “Shouldn’t. Feed them. Brioche,” he gritted between defensive maneuvers. He never had gotten the hang of sword fighting. If Aziraphale heard, he pretended not to, ripping off hunks of bread at least double the esophagus diameter of the average mallard duck. One at a time, he tossed them lazily into the fray. The ducks erupted into chattering, nipping each other’s feathers. A shark frenzy had more natural order to it.

The goose took no interest, bloodlust overriding any desire for fine French baked goods. If anything, it doubled its effort to latch onto Crowley’s shin. Had geese always had teeth?

Aziraphale beamed at the chaos, halogen bright. Humming with self satisfaction, he brushed his hands of crumbs, and settled back against the bench. Crowley diverted a sliver of bodily coordination to snake one arm behind him, weaseling into the warm gap left by the angel’s impeccable posture.

This was a thing they did now, apparently. Not watching ducks squabble over bread – that part was old hat. But Aziraphale tucking himself neatly against Crowley's side? For all the world to see. Like he was one of Crowley's wings simply stowing away. Frankly, that hat still had the tag on it. Still had that new hat smell.

This was rapidly becoming their new normal. Embroidery on the familiar weave of their time together. They still did all the things they always had. They still went to the Ritz, where the waiter still assumed Aziraphale was paying for the bill. Crowley still pulled out the angel’s seat like a proper gentledemon.

None of that had changed.

Just now they also held hands on the table between courses, and Aziraphale fed Crowley bites of dessert straight from his spoon. Sometimes they even did exciting things with their feet under the table.

Aziraphale called it canoodling. Crowley was pretty sure that was a fussy type of dog. The kind that wore bows on its head and left the groomer looking like an ornamental hedge.

Whatever it was, it was nice. More than nice.

Take today for example. The clouds were parting, birds singing – the whole production; the sun sparkled just so, really putting the ol’ razzle dazzle on it all.

There went Aziraphale, tipping his head back against Crowley’s shoulder, eyes closing. Lashes sun-gilt and fanning on his rosy cheeks. Straight out of a renaissance painting. A nice, expensive renaissance painting, on with real lapis lazuli pigment for the eyes. The angel really knew when to lay it on thick.

“Oh, that’s quite nice, isn’t it.” Aziraphale sighed, basking in the warmth.

See, nice? It was nice. Five hundred years of coming here, and this moment was the most nice it had ever been. Crowley remembered when this place was a marshy field full of roving geese and snuffling pigs. When the trees that made this nice bench were just scrawny little saplings, runty and wind bitten. Had the bench gotten smaller? It used to feel immense, and not in the luxury Cadillac sense of the word. Used to fit Heaven and Hell between them with room to spare. Back when nice was a four letter –

The goose sunk it’s – definitely toothed – beak into Crowley’s shin, just above the boot.

Satisfied with its grip, it started to flail, giving the impression Crowley was a chewtoy it meant to thrash to death. The small part of Crowley’s brain reserved for humility was starting to believe it would succeed.

"Dinner? How would you feel about a nice, tasty Christmas goose?” Grunted Crowley, shaking his leg and raising his free hand, demonic miracle at the ready. He had just the goose in mind. “With all the trimmings. Could even do some plum sauce on the side if you like,"

Aziraphale frowned, eyes still closed. “…it’s October.”

“That a no, then? Don’t want to get a head start on the festivities?”

Aziraphale looked up just as Crowley managed to dislodge the fowl beast and punt it away like a feathery football. It came right back, tongue stuck out like a rude child and wheezing angrily.

He tsked, mouth thinning. “You’re terrible. Leave the poor thing alone.”

Crowley sputtered. “Wha – ha – me?! I’m not the one biting a boot like a lunatic!” Would that work? Biting it? Maybe the goose would bugger off if Crowley bit it back. Should he bite it back? He should probably bite it, shouldn’t he. Oh, Satan, he was going to get feathers stuck in his teeth.

The infernal creature hissed, undoubtedly reading his mind. Crowley hissed back, tongue forking menacingly if only for the sake of his own ego.

Aziraphale was staring at him and smiling. Well, smirking. Fondly. The corners of his mouth pinching his cheeks, eyes crinkling under a raised eyebrow. He even had a dimple forming on his chin. Ridiculous. Something in the inner workings of Crowley’s chest did its best impression of a snare drum.

“Shall we, my dear?” Said the Very Ridiculous Angel, stirring from Crowley’s side. He stood and straightened his jumper until there were no more wrinkles. Seeing Crowley still engaged in boot-to-beak combat with the feathery fiend, he added tartly: “Before someone gets killed.”

Crowley grumbled something about demonic wrath and taking bets, but slunk to his feet. He flicked his glasses down and shot a final, venomous glare at the goose before sidling up to Aziraphale and offering his arm.

Aziraphale took it, wedging warm hands into the crook of Crowley’s elbow. He made it look habitual, easy as. Just the natural thing to do. Right as rain.

He was faster than Crowley, at this part. At the settling in. He’d taken to it all like geese to psychological warfare.

“You mentioned dinner?” Said Aziraphale brightly, ducks parting obediently at their feet.

“Your turn to pick.” Crowley’s skin was sizzling, water on a hot frying pan.

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, face thoughtful. He took dinner plans very seriously.

“How about Peking duck? From that lovely place just around the corner, the one with the comfortable chairs.”

Crowley gave him a sharp look, nearly spraining an eyebrow in the process.

The angel was looking resolutely ahead, expression perfectly blank save for the way his mouth twitched at the corners.

I love you, blurted Crowley’s brain.

“Every restaurant has comfortable chairs,” blurted his mouth. It was a fact. Every restaurant did have comfortable chairs. Or else. So far Crowley hadn’t met a chair that cared to find out about the or else – chairs not being very curious by nature.

Crowley would say all the other things later, of course. All the sappy, corny, sweet-nothing things. When they were home. When he could wash the burn down with something whispered and sinfully filthy. Something that would make Aziraphale turn pinker than a summer peach.

Aziraphale was watching him, gaze unspeakably soft. “I know, my dear,” he said.

“I know.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

Phantom's Number 1 Fan Part 3

John Constantine calls a joint Justice League and Justice League Dark meeting.

It's not something he wants to do. He barely works with the LJD, but at least that lot understands his work and knows what to do and where to go.

The JL members always ask questions and forget proper manners when working with the paranormal- John isn't the most well-mannered bloke around, but even he knows to permanently say goodbye to ghosts so that they don't follow him home- and it's like trying to teach an intern while dodging bullets.

He prefers to avoid the whole origination, especially since Bruce's death; everyone has been walking on eggshells, and there is a sense of disorganization drenched in grief that John breaks into hives just thinking about, but this is big.

Bigger than he can handle it on his own or with just the JLD. Even if the whole group gives the bats not-so-stable glances as they filter in.

John notices that one of Batman's brats is missing- the smart one- but he has heard that the kid suffered some kind of psychotic break from his father's death. It's sad, really, mainly because John used to believe that the third Robin was the one with the good head on his shoulders.

What's worse is that the Third Robin up and ran off, having gone off the grid when he refused to accept Batman's death. The boy hadn't said anything besides, "The portraits told me!" after having a miniature breakdown in his home.

It didn't help that around this time, the boy teammates had all dropped like flies except for one. So yes, John knows it wasn't a big surprise that he lost it, but it was still sad to see. Kid is only seventeen.

He hopes they find him soon to give him the help he needs. John would offer a spell to try and find him, but he needs to learn about the kid better, which means his spell can only point in a general direction.

Nightwing looked downright ragged, but losing a father on the battlefield and a younger brother to his grief did a number on anyone.

John hates himself just a little for dragging the grieving family here. He does, but again, this is bigger than all of them. This is a matter of life and death- literally.

"Listen up. We have a bloody level ten on its way to Earth if it's not already here." His words cut through the muttering crowd, shutting everyone up. A level ten makes even the big, lousy Superman sweat. He snaps his fingers, allowing his magic to shift into the image of a King Phantom sitting on his throne- painted in the early 1200s and the picture that can be used to identify him.

The art style would have been almost modern if it wasn't for the unease that the painting could cause due to the glowing green from his majesty's portrait. They say the green was ectoplasm from the king himself- and that alone should warn others to not mess with him.

Everyone Justice League Dark member hissed through their teeth, sitting up straighter and a few even pale. John is once again grateful that they understand just how deep in shit they genuinely are.

"This is the Ghost King. He is not to be confused with a god or king of gods. He's something else entirely because he makes gods nervous. He is on his way here to kill whoever is dumb enough to threaten his pregnant fiancee, and I fear the rest of Earth will be collateral if we don't prepare-"

"That's Danny Phantom," A young voice cuts John off. He is surprised someone would talk over him in a level ten briefing. All eyes turn to Robin- er, the new Robin.

The kid is frowning at the image, his signature scowl already deeper than usual. He's also heard the new Robin was a spoiled boy who was not a team player.

"You know King Phantom?" John asks.

Robin nods. "Placeholder is obsessed with him. Half his room is covered with King Phantom's heroics."

"Do not call him that.," Nightwing hisses a second later. He frowned when Robin ignored him but returned to the room without further comment on the boy's cheek. "Danny Phantom is a low-level search and rescue hero. He pops up around the world but only sometimes interacts with people. Robin- Young Justice Robin- was obsessed with him."

The room gains an awkward weight as no one is willing to bring up the mentally unsound MIA teenager.

It's too bad for them. John has never cared about making anyone comfortable. "You said his room is covered in images of King Phantom?"

From the corner of his eyes, John catches sight of Zatanna's face. She's pale white, with a horrified expression as if though she was standing before the grim itself. Every other member of the Justice League Dark is in a similar state.

"Yes, he has a whole wall of posters and stuff." Nightwing conforms, and shit John knows who Phantom's after now.

The thing is, one just doesn't have pictures of King Phantom. No one knows why, but the Ghost King can not be documented. Not without having some kind of connection to the King.

Throughout history, the only ones who have ever had even one solid picture of the king- John's magic doesn't count cause he can't well hold the thing up forever- usually meant that the King would appear before them at one point.

There is also a myth if one could beat a member of the royal ghost family, then one wish is granted to them. If one can kill a royal ghost member, death can be overturned.

It's not true, obviously, for death is not easily beaten like that, but John knows that as an expert, would a mentally unwell teenager know the same?

It was also known that if the King appeared before you, something terrible would happen. The sighting of King Phantom often came as an omen and usually right before a terrible disaster.

In the last disaster, they lost Batman, and if King Phantom had shown up, where the Third Robin have spotted him? Where the Third Robin have thought the King could return the dead?

Not to mention the rumors!

King Phantom was hunting down a group of humans known as "The Bats." John hadn't put that much stock in that rumor simply because it could have been anyone- hell, when he looked up the bats seven different groups appeared, varying from boy bands to zoologists.

But if he placed the name "The Bats" next to the Third Robin's psychotic break, his obsession with King Phantom, and his intertwined fates...well, shit.

There is a slight chance that the Third Robin's fate could be intertwined with the Ghost King in a positive light, but John has learned to not be optimistic in his line of work.

"I think the Third Robin is gunning after the Ghost King's fiancee and unborn child in a misguided attempt to bring Batman back to life. He may have kicked started a war that humanity can not win," He announces. He hates to say. hates to even suggest it, but the needs of the many outweigh those of the few. "We have to find the Third Robin and attempt to stop him. If we can't reason with him, we must put him down."

Wonder Girl gasps a sob, pressing her hand against her mouth.

John hates himself a little more as she sobs; a few rushes to confront her, but no one is unaffected by the news.

"I'm ordering a hunt for the Third Robin," Wonderwoman speaks up to her steady leadership, returning everyone from their despair. "Every available hero will help. Do not use lethal force unless there is no other choice. We may be able to find him before King Phantom's armies arrive."

John just hopes they are not too late.

Meanwhile, across the plane of existence, unaware of the manhunt for his head, Tim Drake is trying to stare down a Yeti, attempting to put him in silk clothes that are just fabrics held together by strings.

"No."

"But-But- but you have such a flattering figure! You must flaunt it! The Great One will barely be able to contain himself if he sees you in this!"

"No. It looks like something you wear on a honeymoon to seduce your spouse. I'm not walking around in that."

"Well, you don't need to bewitch his majesty. You already have a child on the way." The Yeit mutters, considering the fabric in his claws with a frown. He is Frostbite's royal tailor and has been attempting to dress Tim for over an hour. Everything he's suggested so far looks like it came from those romantic fantasy games.

It's like they want to make him a sexy consort or something.

Tim's teeth grind against each other. He hates how often his role is reminded, how casually the yetis mention that Ra's expects a child from Tim.

He doesn't even know how that child will come to be, and it makes him sick. He's been bidding his time, waiting for his wounds to heal and to find a weakness in the frozen fortress, but so far, he is unsure how he will escape.

And Bruce is still out there, waiting for Tim to get him. He can't waste any more time here.

"How about this cloak?" The Yeti offers, holding up a dark metallic fabric that reminds TIm of his Robin cape. "If we are going for a more conservative look, something that screams power is just the way to make the masses wild!"

Ugh, he really needs to think of a plan soon.

[harleehazbinfics]

Can We? an au lucifer x reader oneshot

Author Profile a/n: SURPRISEEEEEE. i got 'we become we' -journey to jerusalem song on a loop since i found it and i knew i wasn't gonna get it out of my system unless i do something about it. so pls enjoy my ramblings lmfao word count: 1200+

"Your Majesty, please reconsider this! Our kingdom needs a Queen!"

Lucifer sighs at the aide's words, feeling irritated with the insistent suggestion of a Queen.

"I agree, your majesty. The people are quite worried for you. You need an heir, and you aren't getting any younger either," another aide jumps in.

Lucifer surrenders to them with hands in the air in exasperation and finally replies, "Fine."

The people in the room sigh in relief that they somehow got through to him. But hitch their breath when he adds on.

"However, I won't just choose anyone. Only the best candidate will stand by my side and be rightfully called the Queen," he glares.

"Good day, your majesty. My name is (full name), Princess of the Eastern Kingdom. I'm grateful for this opportunity," you smile amiably.

"Likewise," he responds quite honestly shocked from your tone.

You were the guest that was expected to arrive at the palace after receiving the invitation to be a Queen candidate. However, after word got around that you will be joining the fight for the title. All the ladies mutually agreed to resign. When he asked why, all the aide's replies were, "There is no other person worthy to be by your side other than the Princess."

Now, you stood in front of him. You were dressed beautifully, but not as extravagant as those ladies that came before him. You had a melodic tone in your voice that was pleasant to the ear. Your hands folded together gracefully. Everything about you was enchanting.

You tilt your head confused about his speechlessness. "Did I catch you in the wrong time?" you ask him.

His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that you left him dazed just from your introduction alone.

"No no," he excuses then coughs to get a grip on himself, "I apologize. I must have been tired from all the work this morning."

You give him an understanding smile and reply, "No apologies needed, your majesty. I feel honored to be here and see how hard you work. I'm sure this kingdom is grateful to have such a diligent King."

His blush intensifies from your non-stop flattery. He's heard many compliments in his life for his achievements. However, when you were the one saying those words. He can't help but believe it was all true with how genuine you sounded.

"Please, I'm quite embarrassed to hear such words from you, Princess. I've heard many tales of your acts of charity for your and other neighboring kingdoms. You've paved the way for others to follow in your example and gave a chance for the poor, homeless and orphaned," he redirected trying to calm his flaring cheeks.

He was pleasantly surprised at your reaction.

"P-Please! You've heard of that? Oh, I'm embarrassed! I hope only good thing reached your ears," you stumbled over your words when the attention turned back to you.

He laughs at you as you tried to hide behind your hair as you also flushed red. 'For someone, who gives out so many compliments. She can't even handle a couple of her own.'

'This wasn't such a bad idea,' he thought as he watched as you smile and continue talking to him.

"(Y/n), can I ask you something?" he says sitting at the edge of the bed where you sat beside while reading a book.

It had been several weeks since your marriage and it's been quite busy for the both of you as you adjusted to your married life. Lucifer finished paperwork for his projects and formal preparations for your ascension to your rights as the new Queen. Thankfully, it had finally calmed down and now you helped him with his work and even the inner management of the castle.

You have shared the room since the beginning, and you've already shared your first night as husband and wife together. Which was.. quite passionate to say the least. But, after both of you would wake up earlier or later than the other, too considerate to wake up the other from their well-earned rest. So, now that it has finally calmed down and Lucifer approached you. You couldn't help but feel nervous.

"Of course, anything," you reply putting away the book and taking his hand in yours.

He smiles and gains courage as he caresses your hand back and says, "Are you okay with this arrangement?"

You tilt your head unsure of the meaning, "About what?"

"This," he gestures to the both of you, "are you okay about our marriage?"

You huff out a laugh relieved, you thought it was a life or death situation, "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs and replies, "I don't know. I just thought you were having doubts about us."

You give him a meaningful look and stood up from your spot. You then tugged him to stand with you. You made him hold your waist and hand while you placed yours on his shoulder. You led him into a slow dance with a smile on your face.

"Remember, our dance together?" you asked.

"At the wedding?" he asks.

You shook your head and laughed, "We danced one together way before that. That night where we shared the stars together."

His eyes lit up, remembering that night.

"During that dance, I thought that being with you will be worthwhile. And if wherever this choice leads me. I won't regret being with you, Lucifer," you say with a deep look in your eyes.

His eyes soften as he gazed at you. You were nothing but wonderful to him, it was childish of him to assume you were having doubts. He should have trusted you and made you happy instead. You deserve nothing less than that.

"Can we become more Than half of a union we're chosen for?"

He sings as he pulls you closer to him.

"Where I am your best half And I am yours,"

You continue with a huge smile on your face as you followed his lead, gliding around the room.

"Stuck here forever And hopefully not ending in estrangement,"

You sang together faces inching towards each other with half lidded eyes.

"Can mine become yours Combining our dreams Without keeping score?"

You twirled around the room with him catching you. He opens the door and leads you out into the halls where you continued your dance.

"Always together, but never bored No choice in the matter but This will never work without each other,"

The both of you laugh like children as you chased each other down the halls.

"Can we become we? (Can we become we?) Start a new line on this family tree,"

He catches up to you and lifts you off the ground and kisses your cheek with a hearty chuckle from your deviousness.

"Two hearts connected by one beat, Your hand in mine and,"

You beam him a smile as you placed your hands on his chest feeling the rhythmic thumping of his heart from chasing you around.

"I could never choose to love another," Lucifer whispers as he pulls you into a kiss which you return with fervor.

After minutes of kissing one another, he places you down and hold your waist as places another kiss on your temple with a beaming smile. You return it and let him lead you back to your room.

"Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too," you whisper as you gave a passing gaze at the portrait of a blonde woman with her face covered with a large cloth.

Other Lucifer Fics:

@bonnie-02 @marxo5 @whaatttlaufey @froggybich @rybunnie @midorichoco @bontensbabygirl @janey @akiqvq @wonderlandangelsposts @spoiled-slutt @preciousbabypeter @roboticsuccubus83 @simbalioness @reachthestars @atlas-rin @manachpo@luc1fersducky @lovestruck-enby @azullynxx @delightedtosee @cherry-4200 @aria-tempest @lvstyangel @0strawberrysorbet0 @corvid007 @kaminarithebest @whydosnakesnotdance @psychoanalyze0 @sweetadonisbutbetter @lunalily19 @dionysusismypatrongod @skyeliteratures @sappire904

[verstappensrealwife]

Club Lights - Lando Norris x Reader

fluff, ¿angst?

approx 1200 words

READER IS FROM MANCHESTER + FRIENDS WITH ANGRY GINGE

warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of kissing and sex- nothing 18+. I tried to use more speech :s

lando norris masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

Lando was streaming fortnite with Morgan (AngryGinge), Max (F), and Filly, when he said something that caused more than laughter from Morgans end of the call.

“Y/n, god bless her heart, is not my girlfriend.” Ginge had to quickly say before any misconceptions were thought.

“But- I- You were linking arms all throughout the time you were in Monaco?” Lando replied, a look of confusion and disbelief on his face. “Prove she isn’t. Call her right now!”

Ginge simply shrugged and grabbed his phone, scrolling his contacts and landing on you.

It rung twice before your voice- on speaker- was played down Morgan’s mic.

“What do you want?”

“Fuck me, wanna be a bit nicer.”

“No, not really…” There was a pause where no one said anything, “Well what do you want, Morgan? I am busy!”

“I love you,” He was trying to bait you.

You laughed loudly- so loud the mic cut out a few times- “Have you drank? Call your girlfriend not me!” You chuckled before hanging up on him.

Ginge stared blankly at his camera, knowing Lando was watching. “Was that enough proof, Lando?”

Lando ignored him, although very satisfied,  “So~ Who’s your girlfriend Ginge?”

—

A few weeks later, Morgan extended another invitation to Monaco, which you eagerly accepted, thrilled at the prospect of a free trip. Upon meeting up at Manchester Airport, Morgan was relentless with his vlogging, capturing every moment up close—from your reunion at the terminal, to boarding the plane, takeoff, the in-flight experience, landing, and even baggage claim. Every opportunity he had, his camera was practically shoved up your nose.

When Lando arrived to pick you both up, Max was also recording, documenting Lando for his own channel. It was impossible to miss—especially for you—the way Lando looked at you with literal heart-eyes as you stepped out of the Nice-Côte d’Azur airport in the south of France.

"Good morning!" you cheerfully greeted, pulling your suitcase behind you with a coffee in hand.

Lando could barely muster a response, causing Max to chuckle behind the camera. Lando's attention was entirely on you during the drive to the hotel, to the point where he nearly crashed.

Your hotel room was charming, featuring a large bed, a stylish bathroom with a huge mirror, and a lovely view of the Monaco streets.

Unsurprisingly, Lando was quick to offer his assistance, suggesting he come up to your room to "help unpack and whatever."

You smiled gratefully as Lando heaved your 15kg case up the flight of stairs to your room, his muscles straining with the effort. "Thanks, Lan," you said, flashing him a warm smile. "I really appreciate it."

"It's nothing, I'd do it all over again for you," he replied, a deep blush creeping up his neck. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "You don't have a boyfriend, right?"

You shook your head, no, and a heavy silence settled between you, tinged with disappointment that he didn't continue to speak.

Lando began helping you put your clothes into the wardrobe, his hands moving deftly until he reached your underwear. Suddenly, he seemed paralyzed, his eyes darting around the room, trying to look anywhere but at the intimate garments.

"Lando, I googled you. I know you're not shy about seeing people's underwear," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

"Hey!" he retorted, his face flushing even redder. "You shouldn't believe everything you see!"

You gave him a pointed look. "You believed I was sleeping with Morgan..."

He huffed in frustration. "Rightly so... I mean I would—" He abruptly stopped, his words hanging in the air.

"What, you'd sleep with Morgan?" you laughed, but the humor faded as you saw the mortified expression on his face. Lando looked utterly flustered, as if he wished the ground would swallow him whole.

You stopped laughing, suddenly aware of the tension. His eyes were wide, nervous, and embarrassed, almost traumatized by what he had just admitted... out loud... in front of the girl he was clearly talking about.

"Oh, right," you said, your voice trailing off. You knew exactly what you wanted to say, but the words caught in your throat. You desperately wanted to kiss him right then and there.

"I—sorry—erm," he stammered, his voice shaky. "I'll talk to you later."

He moved faster than the cars he drove, practically fleeing from your hotel room, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

Later that night, Morgan waited outside your door, poised to dive into the allure of Monegasque nightclubs. You adorned a stunning, shimmering top paired with elegant black trousers, exuding understated glamour. Sharing an Uber, the anticipation built, though Lando was initially nowhere to be found. However, Max had secured a booth, complete with a large pitcher of an enticing orange cocktail, surrounded by a few unfamiliar faces.

One drink in, Lando sauntered over and playfully collapsed into the booth beside you. His hair, slightly tousled, added to his charming dishevelment. Clad in a simple jean-top combo and a watch that undoubtedly cost more than your annual rent, he exuded effortless style. The club thrummed with energy, the pulsating strobe lights and the dance-club remix of Nelly Furtado's "Say It Right" filling the air.

Lando's drunken smile was captivating, his eyes locked onto yours, his skin aglow under the club lights, making him look irresistibly beautiful. "Hi," he murmured dreamily, patting your thigh a few times before resting his hand there.

"Y'alright, Lan?" you asked, amused.

"Y'alright!" he mimicked with a laugh. "I love your voice, your accent, and your face. Such a beautiful face," he slurred.

You laughed, "How many drinks have you had?"

He widened his eyes in response, silently conveying the answer: "a lot."

While the table engaged in lively conversation, Lando's attention remained on you, murmuring your name just to gaze into your eyes, often letting his eyes drift to your lips.

"Why don't you like me?" he suddenly whispered in your ear, his face inches from yours.

"I like you," you replied, confused. He frowned, indicating that wasn't what he meant. "Yeah, I like-like you. I've never said I didn't."

"Like... like you'd hold hands and kiss me?"

You smiled, "Ask me when you're sober."

The next day, you woke with only a slight nausea, the remnants of the night before. As you stepped out of the shower and dressed for the day's filming, a knock echoed through the hotel. Opening the door, you found Lando, holding a bouquet of lilies, a bright smile on his face.

"What are you doing—and how are you not hungover?" you asked, surprised.

"I drink green smoothies... Anyway, I'm here to officially ask you on a real date," he declared, "with me. Right now."

Taking the lilies from his outstretched hands, you nodded. "Yeah—let me dry my hair first, bu—"

Before you could finish, Lando grabbed your wrist, pulling you out of the room, quickly snatching your keycard from the table and shutting the door behind you. "You look beautiful, and I cannot wait any longer to not see you on a date with me. So, we are leaving. Now."

You groaned, feeling the damp ends of your hair.

"Lando!"

[youaintnothinbuta]

“What flavour do you want?” “You.” — austin butler x reader

Summary: At the end of a dinner date, Austin decides he’d rather have you for dessert.

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem!reader

Word count: 1200

Warnings: smut, 18+, oral (f receiving), explicit, mature language. also warning this might be a little bit shit, I wrote this last year and never posted it :,)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Austin sat across from each other, on your date, him observing you as you considered the dessert menu.

“What are you thinking, Aus? We could get ice cream, what flavour do you want? Vanilla? Chocolate?” You asked, not lifting your eyes from the menu.

Austin smiled, it stretched perhaps a little too far as he leaned in to you and mumbled, “You.”

You laughed at his joke, “C’mon, what do you want for dessert?”

“You.” He repeated himself, his hand reaching out under the table to gently tap the inside of your knee.

Oh. OH. He wasn’t joking.

Your heart fluttered a little, realising he’d been sat there, watching you quietly, thinking about all the things he could be doing right now, all the things he wanted to be doing.

“Do you want to go?” You asked, shifting in your chair.

“Very much so.” Austin stood up, going to pay the bill. Coming back to your table, he picked up your coat off the back of your chair and draped it over your shoulders as you stood up.

The pair of you walked out the restaurant graciously, but inside your tummy was on fire, tingling with excitement, knowing what was soon going to unravel between you and him. The whole drive home Austin kept his fingertips pressed into your thigh, gripping onto you for dear life. Austin was starving for you, ready to devour you the second he got a chance. He always gave you good head, he loved it, loved making sure you felt good, but when he got himself worked up the way he had, wanting to eat you the way he did, it was always an extra intense experience.

“Come on, baby, bedroom.” He placed a hand on your back, guiding you with him as he locked the door after bringing you inside. He didn’t have to tell you twice.

“Sit, Austin.” You pushed him gently towards the edge of the bed. He nodded and took a seat, watching you with hungry eyes. You dropped your coat on the floor and lifted one of your feet up on his knee, asking him to undo the buckle of your heels. He did just that, pushing your foot down and bringing your other one up to do the same.

You stood in front of him, each of his hands finding your thighs, running his fingers up and down the back of them, tickling you slightly.

“Let me at it, darlin’.” He cooed, pulling you closer to him. You smiled, bringing his hand under your dress, to the waistband of your underwear. He pushed them down around your hips and then to the floor, taking his middle finger and pressing into you slowly, before drawing a slit down towards your clit, making you shudder. He paused for a second, shutting his eyes to process how wet you were for him.

He brought his face to your body, gently kissing around your tummy. He placed his hands on your hips, guiding you to lay down. You did just that, he then got comfortable, laying between your legs. He continued his trail of kisses, up and down your inner thighs, all around your pussy, except for the place you needed him most.

“Austin.” You mumble his name, your way of asking him to move on with the teasing. He smiled, placing a final kiss directly on your clit, making you jump slightly.

“Mm, sensitive, baby?” He hummed.

You nodded.

“Good,” he kissed your core once again, “I always get the best orgasms from you like this.”

He wrapped his arms around each of your legs and pulled your body closer to him, resting his hands on your tummy. He collected your arousal on the tip of his tongue as he licked a long stripe up your slit, before letting your own fluid coat your clit, swirling around in slow circles, making your moaning begin. Your hands reached down, tangling your fingers in his blonde curls as you gently gripped and tugged on his hair. Your sudden desperation he takes as a cue that he’s dragged it out long enough, and he encompasses his lips around your clit, gently sucking on it. You let out the most strung-out, desperate moan, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at what he was doing to you.

“I love the way you taste, darlin’.” He looked up at you, gave you a little grin and went back to sucking on your clit, making eye contact with you as often as he could. The visual of him, pleasing you like this, it’s almost enough to push you right over the edge, your arms started to shake with the weight of your body, making you drop back down onto the bed, continuing to whimper and whine as you watch Austin down the length of your body. He stopped sucking for a moment, bringing one of his hands off your stomach and using his thumb to lift the hood of your clit up, giving himself more surface area to suck on.

“Holy fuck, Austin.” You gasped, your pelvis smacking into his nose as your body jolted, your already sensitive clit on fire with the feeling he was giving you. Austin knew your body, knew the signs of your orgasm building. The specific whiny moans, the way you hips couldn’t hold still, the way you pressed up again him to get as much friction as you could, and the way your thighs started trembling.

“Oh, baby.” He mumbled against you.

“Austin, please, I’m so close.” You begged, your hands unable to choose whether they’d rather grip onto the bedsheets or his hair.

“I know, honey, come for me.” He encouraged you, his hands having to press harder and harder on your stomach to hold you still enough to keep his lips in contact with you.

You thrashed around, in his grip, your body unsure of what to do with all the pleasure he was giving you. With a loud cry, you felt that big release, your thighs clenched around his head, your orgasm pulled your hips upwards, lightly smacking Austin in the nose, making him smile as he continued to gently lick the rest of your orgasm out of you.

Once he was sure he’d gotten out of you all he could, he crawled up, laying his body over yours. The weight of his body on yours helped you calm down from your high, and he loved the feeling your body twitching underneath him, the feeling of your heart racing, right up against his.

“That’s my girl.” He kissed your lips, then your forehead, “such a good girl for me.”

Still wriggling around under him, you couldn’t manage anything but another moan, making him chuckle.

“That was good, huh, baby?” He smiled, looking down at you.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, your abs clenching against him with another twitch.

“Still coming for me? Oh, darling, that’s it, that’s the way.” He continued to talk you through your orgasm, holding gentle eye contact with you.

With a deep exhale, you finally felt your heart rate begin to return to normal and your muscles relax, “That was crazy, Austin.” You laughed.

He smiled, “told you I could get a good one.”

[troublesomesnitch]

Modern Aemond - Breeding Kink

Modern!Aemond x Reader

You and Aemond explore his breeding kink for the first time.

Quick smut drabble because I was in a dirty mood and wanted to practice some things!

Contents: modern AU, foreplay only, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, dirty talk. Porn with zero plot.

Warnings: this is heavy on the kinks, we're getting a little fetishy in here.

Words: 1200

You have only just rinsed off the last dish in the sink when Aemond rises from his chair and comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his chest to your back. 

He did offer to help you with the post-dinner cleanup, but you refused like you always do - you like things done your way, and Aemond likes them done his way, and unfortunately your preferred approaches are often in conflict. 

And besides, you wanted him to watch you. You wanted him to come and embrace you exactly like this. 

He brushes his lips against the back of your neck, from your shoulder and all the way to your ear, pressing a lingering kiss to the delicate skin behind it. His touch is gentle, but the intent is clear, and it makes you giddy with excitement. For obvious reasons, but also because you have something special planned for tonight. 

Since the first time you slept with Aemond, you have known about this little kink of his. It is not very subtle - he loves to kiss your chest and stomach, he loves your breasts, he loves when you tell him to come inside of you. But he has never spoken about it, and neither have you. Aemond is not the sort of man who will happily tell you all about his dirty fantasies. He is much too buttoned up for that; too proud and reserved. 

So you must proceed with caution. 

“Touch me,” you sigh, smiling to yourself when Aemond does exactly as you expected, sliding his hand down your thigh and in between your legs. You are damp there already, and he gives a hum of appreciation, but he’ll have to wait a little longer before you get to that part.

"No -" you bite your lip, and your hand comes to rest on top of his, moving it higher until it's on your stomach instead. Right where it’s soft and rounded. "Touch me here."

He hesitates, not quite catching your drift, or maybe he doesn’t want to catch it. But you guide his hand over your belly, letting him feel where it curves, the softness of it, the little bump of protective fat that you spent your teenage years despairing over. 

It feels very taboo to be touched in such a way, and your heart beats fast when you look back at him over your shoulder. “You like that, don't you? Does it turn you on?”

There’s a slight pause, and Aemond presses his forehead to your hair before he answers with a reluctant yes.

"I like it too," you whisper, letting your head fall back against his chest. "I like to imagine it - being pregnant with your child - being all round and heavy..."

Aemond gives the softest moan, right in your ear, and he holds you tight against his body, his cock growing hard against your backside.

Oh he likes it, alright. He likes it a lot.

“Say that again,” he breathes, hoarse and husky. “Tell me you want to be heavy with my child.”

“I want to be heavy with your child -” you wiggle against his crotch, drawing another little gasp from him. “I want you to fuck a baby into me - fill me with your cum -”

You blush at your own words, and Aemond stifles a groan. His hips move slowly against you, rubbing his stiff cock against your bottom, and his hand keeps stroking you even without your own to guide it. Moving in little circles over your stomach, pretending that you’re already full of him. 

Your lips part, and you turn your neck around as best as you can, desperate for a kiss. It is an awkward angle, and even more so because Aemond has a fair bit of height on you, but you tilt your face up, and he bends his face down, and you meet somewhere in the middle. Except he doesn't kiss you, not really. Rather, he brushes his lips against yours, so slowly, teasing you with soft and delicate touches. No open mouths, no tongue. Just the feel of his warm, wet lips, and when you reach up for more, he draws back.

"Kiss me -" you beg, but Aemond shakes his head, and his arm around your waist holds you firmly in place.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” he breathes.

He loves it when you say filthy things. It gets him so hard, drives him mad with need. But he is making it difficult for you now, with the way he's holding you, the way he’s thrusting up against your arse. You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a whole sentence.  

“Gently,” you manage. “I want you to be gentle - I want you to make love to me.”

“I can do that,” he whispers, brushing his nose against your hair, dipping lower to nibble at your ear. 

“And - oh - I want you to come inside of me - want you to empty your balls right into my womb -”

Aemond moans loudly at that, much too aroused now to feel self-conscious about anything. He touches you with both hands, gently and intimately, caressing the curve of your stomach and rubbing his palms over your soft little belly. Savouring how warm you are, how smooth and lovely. Perfectly ripe for what he’d like to put in you. 

“I want you to imagine it,” you breathe, every bit as turned on as he is. “I'd be pregnant, and you would touch me like you're doing now, and feel my belly all full and round, and my tits too -”

“Fuck,” Aemond groans, and his hips jerk against you. “Oh - fuck.”

He turns you around to face him and easily lifts you onto the kitchen counter, so he can lean down to kiss you. Properly, finally. You whimper when his tongue slides against yours, and you slip your hand down to stroke the hard bulge in his pants, squeezing it firmly before you undo his zipper and wrap your fingers around his cock. 

The tip of it is wet with precum, and you spread the fluid over his shaft before you begin to stroke him in earnest, dragging his foreskin up and down at a steady pace; tightening your grip as the filthiest words spill from your lips. 

Do you want to get me pregnant, Aemond? Do you want to feel my little wet cunt? Do you want to spurt your hot seed inside me?

“Stop -” he pants. “You'll make me come -”

“I want you to be close,” you coo, still stroking him, although you do slow down the pace. “I want your cock so hard, and your balls full of cum - big and heavy with it, so you can breed me properly -”

“Stop,” Aemond hisses, and his fingers close around your wrist, gripping it so tight that it hurts. His eyes are dark, and his voice is low and with that hint of a temper that excites you more than it probably should. You like that he’s a little moody. Volatile, even. 

“I want you,” you mewl, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, desperate to feel him closer. “Call me something bad, call me a slut -”

“You are a slut,” he whispers in between kisses. “You’re my dirty little slut - my filthy little whore -”

You moan in response, and there’s a playful look on your face when you pull back and look up at him through your eyelashes.

“We should practice - making a baby…” 

“Yes,” Aemond says with the most devastating smirk. “We should.”

Tagging: @arcielee @helaelaemond

[lives-in-midgard]

You Are In Love

Pairing: Evan Buckley x reader

Summary: When you're out with your friends you meet a handsome firefighter. After a while you go on a date and decide to keep your relationship a secret until something happens.

Word Count: 1200

A/N: Hey. This is part of the Buddie-August challenge. This also includes some characters from the Rookie. I hope you like it!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Buddie-August hosted by me and @buckys-wintersoldier

Prompt: Kisses

911 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

After a long shift at work one of your colleagues had the idea to go to a bar. You don’t often go to bars with all of them, but today you all finally had time. A lot has changed for you since you started working as a police officer at the Mid-Wilshire Station. You found a lot of friends there and you love your job.

“I’m gonna get a drink, would any of you like one too?” You asked the others.

“Could you get me another one of these.” Lucy said, pointing at her drink and you nodded.

“What about you Tim?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He said, smiling at you. When the others said they didn’t need anything, you made your way over to the bar. While you were waiting in line for drinks, a cute guy stood next to you and waited as well. Somehow he looked familiar to you, but you weren’t sure where you had seen him before. He smiled at you and then you suddenly remembered him. You could never forget that smile.

“You’re firefighter Buckley, right?” You asked and he chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s me. Wait and you are officer L/n.”

“You can call me y/n.” You said with a smile.

“Only if you call me Buck because that’s what everyone calls me.”

“Okay, deal.” You said and he had that sweet smile again. You talked for a few more minutes until your drinks were ready.

“See you around, Buck.”

“See you and be safe.” He said and watched as you walked back to your table. You handed Lucy her drink and sat down next to Tim again.

“Who was this guy?” Tim asked curious.

“Oh, just a friend.” You answered and Tim nodded. You and Tim have been friends and partners for a long time and over time he has become very protective over you. He always knows when something is wrong and is there for you as best as he can.

The next day you kept thinking about your meeting with Buck. He was so sweet and you hope to see him again. You didn’t think you’d see him again soon because just when you had an emergency call and had to call the ambulance, it was the 118 that showed up. You couldn’t really talk to him, but it was great to see each other again.

When you were grocery shopping and walking through the halls someone said your name and when you turned around you saw that it was Buck.

“Hey Buck.” You greeted him with a smile.

“Hey, good to see you.”

“I was wondering if you would like to have a coffee with me sometime?” He suddenly asked.

“Yeah, sure. How about I give you my phone number.” He nodded and pulled out his phone. You tipped in your number and he called you, so you had his number too.

Two days passed until you got a message from Buck. He asked if you were free tomorrow and you agreed to meet after work. At work Tim noticed that you were different, happier and more excited. He didn’t ask you about it, but it made him happy to see you happy.

The coffee date with Buck went very well. You talked about everything that came to your mind. You both really enjoyed it and had a great time. He asked you out on a date and that date turned into another date and suddenly you were in a happy relationship.

You had been dating for about three months now. Usually you were at his house or yours or sometimes you were going out. Favorite things to do together include cooking, watching movies, going to the beach and you enjoying it when he tells you a story from work and then you tell him some stories too. You’re very happy together and try to spend as much time together as possible, even if it can be a bit difficult due to your work shifts. Some people don’t think a relationship between a police officer and a firefighter is a good idea, so you decided to keep the relationship a secret for a while, which wasn’t always easy especially if you would see him on a call.

Today you have been called into a very difficult situation. You called for backup, but things quickly escalated, and you injured your left arm. Luckily, Officer Harper, Officer Nolan and Officer Bradford arrived at the right time to arrest the person. While Harper and Nolan arrested the person, Tim ran over to you and called an ambulance.

“Tim, I’m aright, it’s just a small scratch.”

“Let’s wait and see what the medics say, okay?” Tim said and put some pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. A few minutes later you could already hear the ambulance driving near you. When the doors opened you could see that it was Buck. As soon as he saw you, he ran towards you.

“Babe, are you okay? What happened?” He asked, looking at your arm. When you looked over, you saw that Tim had a confused look on his face.

“I’m okay, it’s just a small scratch.” You said again.

“Let’s go to the truck and I’ll take a look at it.” Buck said, placed his hand on your back and guided you to the truck. Then he removed the cloth from your wound and gently tried to stop the bleeding. You took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, babe.” He looked into your eyes and tried to smile at you. Then he looked back at the wound.

“The cut isn’t too deep, so it’s okay if I just bandage it.” He said and you nodded. Buck gently put the bandage over your wound and then gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, honey.”

“Anytime.” He said, then Buck tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and gently pulled you into a passionate kiss. When you broke the kiss, you reached for his hand and smiled at each other.

“I have to go back to work.” You said after a few seconds, even though you didn’t want to say goodbye.

“Me too.” He said, looking over his shoulder to see his friends looking at you both with smiles.

“I guess they all know now.”

“They definitely do.” You said with chuckle. You noticed how happy they all were and then looked over at Tim who was as happy as they were.

“I think I have to go now. See you later.” Buck said and gave you a quick hug.

“See you.” You said, waving at him as you walked away. As you walked to your car, Tim was still standing next to yours and looked at you with a grin.

“Now I know why you’ve been so happy lately.”

“Yeah, Buck makes me really happy.” You confirmed and opened the car door.

You were glad that Tim and Buck’s colleagues now found out about your relationship, but you definitely want to meet them soon on a better occasion. Buck has told you a lot about them, so you’re very excited to meet them.

Taglist:

@cevansbaby-dove | @buckys-wintersoldier

@beaubbdoll

[okwonyo]

﹙ ✉️ ﹚ ──TRACK 15 ；PASSIONATE。in which ⸝ 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝒶𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

엔하이픈 희승 ⠀ ノ⠀ female reader 1200 florist!reader fluff getting together friends to lovers⠀⎯⠀⠀awkwardness skinship lots of talking ⠀， recueil . . . ( click )

ꣀ꣒ this is stan twitter’s chapter 14 .. there is a lot of talking here. i hope it is possible to read as a stand alone and that you’ll enjoy reading it ~

it isn’t as weird as you thought it would be. the weather is nice, like a normal day this month.heeseung arrived five minutes in advance, with a huge smile on his face, you were almost scared that his teeth will fall out.

he also had flowers he bought, that weren’t made with your own two hands this time, you accepted them with an awkward laugh and a blush appearing on your cheeks. you looked less embarrassed during that moment than when he stared at you, from up to down, then down to up, sly grin creeping on his lips. you opted for a white top that paired with your white shorts ─ nothing too much but enough for him to tell you that you were breathtaking. you didn’t really know how to respond, choosing to return the compliment, he became red in the face.

he held to door for you when you entered the garden, as if he was the one who owned the shop. there is a small plate-form, in the middle of the flowers, a square in beige tiles where you dressed the table for your date. you both agreed to do that in a discreet place, and you couldn’t think of anywhere else but the places you spent the last weeks gardening together.

the lunch went smoothly. you were both sitting awkwardly in front of each other for a few minutes, as if you weren’t used to heeseung’s clingy antics already, but it went over the window pretty quickly. legs crossed under the table, your feet tap against his caf gently, he opens his palms so your fingertips can do the same on them.

during a soft and comfortable silence, you speak, “you know, you are so cool,” you start, heeseung eyes on you lingers as you keep tapping on his palm. “whenever is see you─ and i know you don’t want to talk about it but i need to elaborate my point─ whenever i see you on stage, it’s just like you are born to be here.” you take a deep breath, trying to calm the beating of your heart getting faster. stress, you hate it, “and this is why i have always liked you─you are─” too much words stumble over their feet in your brain, none of them can attain your mouth with falling. “so passionate, about your job, your music, life and” you press your lips together, finally looking up. heeseung gaze is full of understanding, yearning, pining and longing for you. “even about me.”

he opens his mouth, you continue to talk, “and for the longest time i thought that i would only see as such. as the man on stage who always gives his all, like─like a star in the sky that you admire but cannot touch” he whispers something about how he is right in front of you, you giggle, “and you are here, and i learned so much things about you─ and i find myself being passionate about you. not only because of who you are on stage but because of who you are, here, in front of me.”

“i’m so scared of what it this, passion,” you can’t say the stronger word, “will have as an impact on who you are─ even if you don’t want me to treat you as such─ that idol on stage, that i still reached somehow, with such an amazing career coming ahead. and i don’t want to ruin that for you.”

there is a long silence, when you finish your, sort of, confession monologue. heeseung watches you with his mouth slightly agape and his eyes a ta widened. his hands are gripping onto yours now, his warmth shallow your skin whole and the weather doesn’t help much.

“you─” he starts, and he smiles. “talk so much.”

you kick his leg under the table and he lets out a pained sound, “i’m being serious here,” you chuckle.

“i wanted to kiss you during that whole monologue.” he says and you roll your eyes, “i’m serious, you where talking about how amazing i was and how scared you where, which i understand. but the only thing only thing on my mind,” your breath catches when he finishes his sentence with the calling of your name. “you are the only one i want, and i will be willing to do anything to keep you safe.

“i didn’t even mention me there,” you sigh, “i was talking about you.”

heeseung huffs, his thumb rubbing your skin and smooth motion, “i know, you don’t think about your safety so i have to do it for you,” he interlock your fingers together, you watch him with a smile growing on your lips. “we’ll take care of each other, yeah?”

you only hum, focusing on his fingers between yours, the tight yet gentle grip makes you feel in a way that you can’t quite describe. heeseung eyes, however, stares are something else. not your eyes nor your hair, something that he feels has been calling him for a while now.

like a siren in the ocean, the peachy hue gently resting on your lips attracts him. soon, your mouth is the only thing occupying his mind. it gets worse when your eyes focuses on him again, wide and charming, he can’t do anything but lean in.

he wouldn’t be able to tell if it’s the sun, reflecting hard on the back of his head or just, you, but he feels dizzy─ and his only medicine is one if your kisses.

“can i?” he whispers, for only you to ear. the gape between the both if you get slowly smaller and smaller, as much as your lips are calling him, his do the same to you.

it only takes a nod of yours to finally make you both meet in between.

his lips presses softly, firmly and eagerly against yours. as if he as been waiting for this for years, which feels like the truth, his nose lets out a sigh, a desperate sigh.

he misses your hand in his, but he forgets about it quickly when it finds his hair. your taste is so addicting, he slips his hands on you cheeks, cupping them, he pulls you closer than the table in between the two of you lets him. he tilts your head to the side, the sweet tast of the soda he just drank feels your mouth when his tongue slips through your lips. he is too addicted to you to even remember to breathe, you are the one who break the kiss.

his lips are swallowed and shiny, just like yours, “i think i’m in love with you,”

you snort, “you don’t know anything about me,” as if it wasn’t a blatant lie. he tends to ask a lot of questions and you like to elaborate on your answers. which is just perfect.

still, he plays along, “i have the rest of my life to find out.”

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[glorious-spoon]

finding excuses to be alone with each other - Buddie

hi, and thank you! sorry this has taken a while, and also i have no explanation for why i decided to write new year's eve fic in june. BUT: here you are!

a stolen moment

1200 words | buddie | developing relationship | secret relationship | kissing | fluff

-

There are too many people at this party.

Normally, this isn't something Buck would even think to complain about. Maddie and Chim are hosting, since Bobby and Athena are still living out of a tiny one-bedroom while work continues on their house, and Hen and Karen are still trying to get Mara settled back at home—New Year's parties are apparently not conducive to a quiet, predictable bedtime routine, and the Wilson family unit will probably be heading out well before the ball drops anyway—and nobody else has even close to enough room. It's still packed to the brim, overflowing onto the back patio, clusters of people chatting over drinks in the kitchen while the kids have taken over the living room TV for a vicious Mario Kart showdown that Chris is currently winning. Maddie's in the back bedroom putting Jee down for bedtime, and Chim is holding court over the dessert table, and it's all—great, honestly, it's great. It's awesome, having his family here, and happy, and together under the same roof after the year they've all had.

He glances up and meets Eddie's eye from across the dining room. Gets a quick smile in return. Eddie's cheeks are pink, maybe from the warmth, maybe from the two glasses of wine he's had, since Buck will be the one driving them home. He's wearing a green Henley that Buck knows is exactly as soft as it looks and worn-in jeans that mold lovingly to the lines of his thighs as he leans back against the door frame, and it's all pretty distressing, honestly. Buck's hands are itching to touch.

When he meets Eddie's eyes again, Eddie is grinning broadly. Caught, Buck ducks his head. He's blushing, he knows, and he doesn't have the excuse of the wine.

They're keeping it to themselves, at least for now. That was the decision they both made after Eddie kissed him in the loft two nights ago, after Buck kissed him back, after they didn't actually manage to make it all the way up to the bed and ended up on the couch instead, gasping into each other's mouths, fumbling and eager as teenagers. They're keeping it to themselves until Eddie figures out how he's going to tell Chris. He's skittish about that still, and Buck isn't going to push. So he'll probably be sleeping on the fold-out couch tonight instead of in Eddie's bed, and he's not going to kiss Eddie in the middle of the party, no matter how much he wants to.

It's okay. They have time.

"Hey, didn't someone bring dessert plates?" Chim calls from the kitchen. "Please tell me someone brought dessert plates, we're all out of the big ones and I'm really not up for doing dishes tonight."

Ah, shit. Right. That was Buck's job. He's pretty sure he did pick some up, actually, but they're probably still out in the Jeep, which is parked somewhere in the snarl of cars crowding the Han driveway and pulled off to the side of the street in front of their lawn.

"I got 'em," he calls, setting his soda down.

"My hero," Chim retorts, only half-teasing by his tone. Buck rolls his eyes and goes to find his shoes.

He doesn't realize that Eddie is following him until he's already slipped them on in the entry hall, a few steps away from the party. "What's up?"

Eddie shrugs, guileless, and crouches down to retrieve his shoes as well. "Figured I'd help you."

"You figured you'd help me…. bring in a package of paper plates?"

"Yeah," Eddie says innocently, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and god, Buck really wants to kiss him.

"Okay," he agrees instead, and pulls open the door. Eddie follows him out into the night, cool and dim even with Christmas lights still lit up all down the street. There's a dampness to the air that feels like rain; it's not that cold, but it's enough of a contrast to the warm house that a shiver goes through him. Eddie falls into step beside him, then reaches for his hand.

Buck shivers again, for reasons that have nothing to do with the cold this time. Eddie's hand is warm and broad, and he strokes his thumb lightly against Buck's, lighting up nerve endings he didn't even know he had.

It's such a small thing. But they've never actually done this yet. It all feels so new, sparkling like fireworks through his veins.

"Okay?" Eddie asks, and Buck realizes that he's stopped walking. 

"Yeah," he says. He's not doing a very good job of keeping the smile off his face, or out of his voice, but Eddie's got the exact same dopey smile on his face, so it's fine. They weave through the cars to where Buck's Jeep is parked, close enough to the street that they'll probably be able to get out without playing vehicle Tetris. Far enough from the house that they're shielded from view by Bobby's truck parked alongside them, so he's not all that surprised when Eddie lets go of his hand only to push him gently against the side of the Jeep and kiss him.

He gets lost in that for a little bit. The heat of Eddie's mouth, his hands moving from Buck's shoulders to cradle his jaw—he did that the first time, too. Held Buck like he's holding him now, like he's something precious and worth treating with care, and Buck's already hooked on it. He slides his hand up Eddie's back, feeling the warmth of him, to cup the back of his neck as Eddie licks into his mouth with leisurely sweetness, like he's got all the time in the world to kiss Buck just like this on the sidewalk on New Year's Eve.

Sooner or later, someone's going to come looking for them. It still takes a while for Buck to break the kiss, and when Eddie tugs lightly at his lower lip with his teeth before pulling away, he almost dives back in again. Almost.

"We should probably get back to the party," he says, very reluctantly.

"Yeah," Eddie sighs. He leans in and kisses Buck again, a sweeter, softer thing before leaning past him to open the door. Buck ducks into the back seat to retrieve the package of plates and the bottle of wine they forgot to bring in earlier, and when he straightens up, Eddie is watching him. He looks—hesitant, almost. Nervous. He looks the way he looked two days ago, right before he kissed Buck.

"What's up?" Buck asks.

"I want to tell Chris," Eddie says, all in a rush. "Maybe not—right now, at the party, but when we get home, I want to tell him. About us."

Buck takes a quick, sharp breath. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been as sure about anything in my life as I am about you."

"Eddie."

"It's the truth. And—I want him to know. Even if it's an adjustment, even if it takes some time to—I want him to know. I want everyone to know. If that's okay with you."

"Eddie," Buck says again, and then, "yeah, yeah of course it's okay."

"Good," Eddie says, with a sudden, brilliant smile. And well—Chim can wait a few more minutes for his paper plates. Buck sets them down and pulls Eddie back in.

[sstormyskyess]

Tender Love and Care

author's note: aftercare is probably one of the cutest things in the world so i had to match up some classic types of aftercare with the boys

cw: fluff, implied off-screen sex, massages, cuddling, shared baths/showers

word count: 1200+

TF-141 x GN!Reader

Simon “Ghost” Riley [massages]

♡ Ghost is not a very handsy man and never has been; he keeps to himself 90% of the time and even with you the physical contact you share is minimal. It doesn’t bother you, of course, since it’s simply a part of the way he operates.

♡ However, after coming down from the sweet high that you brought each other to, he needs to be close to you. He gets so swept up in the pleasure that he needs something to ground him and having his hands all over you is the perfect solution.

Simon frowns at the quiet groan you let out while his hands massage your stomach, soothing the muscles underneath. “I didn’t go too hard, did I love?” You smile at his concern and hold his wrists, giving them a squeeze. “It’s okay, Si, just a little sore.” You assure him. He hums, still worried but trusting your words regardless.

You sigh happily as you feel Simon’s hands rubbing languid circles into the skin of your thighs, soothing over the bruises he left there unintentionally. His thumbs slowly move down to your calf and bring your ankle up to his lips, kissing it softly. A shiver goes up your spine at the way he stared you down, his eyes trailing down your body with adoration in his eyes.

He places your leg down gently, shifting his attention to your wrists, the anchor he used to hold you in place earlier. Carefully, he pulls you up by your arms and has you sit chest to chest, eyes locked onto your hands, massaging your palms with his thumbs. You watch him kiss each of your knuckles and whisper a quiet, “I love you.”

John “Soap” Mactavish [cuddling]

♡ This man. This man. Soap is absolutely addicted to cuddling, whether he’s the big spoon or small spoon, face-to-face with you, or laying on top of you and vice versa. It doesn’t matter how, he just needs to kiss your skin: cheeks, hands, chest—anything. He also loves it when you kiss the marks you made on each other, reminding him exactly where you paid the most attention to each other.

♡ He whispers sweet nothings to you and tells you how much fun he had and how good you felt and how good you were for him.

After wiping the both of you down with the cold, damp washcloth you’d put on the bedside table, Johnny has you cocooned in your favorite fluffy blanket, holding you close. He tucks your head under his chin and lets you play with the hair on his chest, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips when your fingers start to tickle him a bit. He holds you tight, hands around the small of your back and the back of your head.

You hum and start to wiggle out of his hold. “I gotta go pee really quick,” you mumble into the skin of his neck. A grumble fills his chest when you start moving away, his grip tightening. “Johnny, let go…” You whine, struggling in his hold. He frowns and shuffles to lay on top of you, pushing the air out of your chest with a little ‘oof.’

You worm your arms out from under him and try to pull him off, tugging on his shirt. “Get off!” You squeak, but all you get in return is even more pounds laying on your chest. He laughs and starts covering your face in kisses, a wordless attempt at keeping you right where you were. “Nope, you’re staying right here, dove.” He nuzzles his face against your shoulder.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick [snacks/water]

♡ Often, Gaz has already gotten something for you both to drink and snack on while you’re laid up next to each other, watching whatever’s on the TV sitting on your dresser. He knows how much your evening activities can wear you out, so he always wants to replenish your energy before heading to bed.

♡ If he hasn’t prepared anything, he’ll pick you up and carry you to the kitchen with him to keep you close, not wanting to part with you for even a second. He’ll have you wrapped up in a blanket and sitting on the counter while he fills up a bottle with water and cuts up some fruit for the two of you to share.

Kyle’s eyes widen when you grab one of the grapes in his fruit bowl. “Hey!” He pouts while you giggle quietly, a smile on your face. Popping it into your mouth, you look up at Kyle who had his handsome face locked on you with stars in his eyes. You can’t help but bashfully laugh and look away, your cheeks warming under his adoring gaze.

His hand rested under the baggy t-shirt you’d stolen from him, fingers wrapped around your bare hip. You frown when a breath of cold air slips into the blankets when he reaches to the bedside table for his water bottle. “Kyle, come back…” You whine, tightening your hold on him. He laughs and comes back with the bottle, handing it to you before readjusting the blankets. “Drink up, baby.”

You cuddle up closer to him and open it up to take a few gulps of water before handing it back to him. It ends up haphazardly dropped onto the bed sheets when Kyle tosses it aside and leans down to kiss you on the head, on the cheeks, and all over your face. You start to giggle, trying to push him off; then, when you do, you see Kyle with his hand in your bowl of fruit, stealing a grape of his own, much to your dismay.

John Price [showers/baths]

♡ Sex with John can get fairly filthy; he loves making a mess of you and it often ends up with both of you covered in more than just sweat, so cleaning you up is a first priority once you’re done. He’ll wash you ever so gently and clean off anything that tainted your skin over the time you spent under the sheets.

♡ He’s invested in a variety of things to put in the bath, ranging from oils to bath bombs and salts, all in your favorite scents. He loves the feeling of your soft skin after being pampered, running his palms all over you just to feel it.

The bath bomb at the end of the bath has almost fizzled out by now, the bathwater now a light pink. John hovers over you and stares down at your relaxed face, eyes shut with a tiny smile perking up your lips. He chuckles when you press your head into his hands as he caresses you, his nails scrubbing along your scalp gently. You take a deep breath of the lavender oil coating his fingers and exhale, the steam from the bath shifting with your breath.

His hands dipped under the water and ran up your thighs, his fingers gliding across your skin smoothly. “You feel lovely, darling.” His lips brush along your shoulder as he speaks. You smile wide, letting him kiss up your shoulder and neck, all the way to your cheek.

You wiggle a bit when he gets a nice handful of your thighs and squeezes, a small laugh leaving you. You retaliate by reaching back and pinching him on the cheek. He joins in with his own laughter, pulling you closer to him and running his nails up and down your sides, tickling you. You squeal, trying to pull his hands away. “John, the water’s gonna spill out—!”

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭