#and even though he’s largely expressionless in this

[consumeroflemoans]

Kicks down door

GUESS WHO MADE ANOTHER ONE.

This is turning into a proper AU at this point, I can’t stop making these.

It took awhile to figure out what bsd pairing would fit Mizisua based on what I’ve already set up but Shin Soukoku was a decently good match

Also the ‘I find you with your scent’ had me giggling to myself because tiger boy would be able to track him down

Akutagawa try not to die in front of Atsushi challenge failed yet again

[furuu]

∘ ◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ You noticed how grumpy Sukuna had been all day, his temper flaring at every little thing, lashing out at servants with sharp, biting words. The deep, guttural growl that seemed to rumble from his chest set everyone on edge. His usual terrifying presence had become even more menacing, a dark aura clinging to him like a second skin.

Despite his brooding demeanor, a part of you couldn't help but feel a mix of concern and curiosity. You tilted your head slightly, watching him with keen eyes as he huffed, his expression stoic but tinged with annoyance. His four, fiery crimson eyes, which normally blazed with authority, now held a glint of something else-something darker and more irritated.

Approaching him carefully, you couldn't resist the urge to ask, "You doing alright, my love?" Your voice was soft, cautious, as if trying not to provoke him further. In response, he let out another agitated huff, but as he heard your voice, his irritation seemed to subside, if only for a moment.

His gaze softened slightly, the flicker of affection in his eyes undeniable. "I'm perfectly fine," he grumbled, crossing his powerful arms over his broad chest, trying to maintain his gruff demeanor. But you could see right through him-your presence alone had a calming effect, even if he refused to admit it.

You hummed quietly to yourself as you moved closer, a small smile playing on your lips. Without hesitation, you climbed onto his large lap, settling comfortably as he sat upon his imposing throne. He let out another quiet, dramatic huff, as if trying to emphasize his unknown frustrations. An idea formed in your mind, and you couldn't help but giggle softly. Though his face remained expressionless, you noticed that his lower set of eyes were locked onto you, following your every move with a silent intensity.

Despite his grumpy demeanor, you knew Sukuna well enough to recognize that he was drawn to you, his attention unwavering.

His lower set of eyes seemed to plead for your attention, even if his pride wouldn't allow him to ask for it outright. Raising an eyebrow slightly, he finally broke the silence, his voice gruff yet laced with curiosity.

"What's so amusing?"

You leaned in closer, the playful smile never leaving your face. "You're hungry, aren't you, my lord?" you teased, your voice tinged with amusement. "Is that why you've been so grumpy today? You haven't eaten a thing yet, have you?"

For a brief moment, Sukuna's grouchy expression faltered as your words hit the mark. "Are you implying I'm... hangry?" he questioned, his voice losing some of its initial sharpness. His four arms crossed defensively as his lower eyes averted your gaze. "I'm the King of Curses. I do not get hangry," he protested, though the slight rumbling of his stomach betrayed his claim.

You pouted playfully, noticing the subtle snarl of his lips in response. "You poor thing," you cooed, your hand snaking behind his head to rub at the sensitive undercut of his hair. He grunted under your touch, clearly enjoying the sensation despite himself. "Why don't you eat, my love? You're such a grouchy thing without a full belly."

Sukuna huffed again, leaning subtly into your touch. He hadn't eaten because he knew how much you disliked it when he indulged in his darker, more primal cravings—cannibalism, his twisted preference for human flesh or organs. He wouldn't admit that he was holding back for your sake, though. "I don't need to eat—I'm not that hungry," he muttered, but the quiet rumble of his stomach told you otherwise.

Before you could respond, Uraume, Sukuna's trusted subordinate, entered the room quietly and swiftly. They approached with a small bowl, offering it to you-a grim assortment of human parts carefully prepared for your lord. Uraume's presence was fleeting, and they quickly dismissed themselves, leaving you alone with Ryomen once more. You noticed how his abs clenched in hunger, even as his expression remained distant and stoic, his lower eyes locked onto your small hands holding the bowl.

"Are you sure?" you asked softly, teasingly, as you noticed the way his gaze lingered. His growl in response was all the answer you needed.

Sukuna's body trembled slightly as he fought to resist the overwhelming urge to feed. The aroma of the human flesh assaulted his senses, his mouth watering in anticipation. You could see his resolve wavering, the sound of his stomach rumbling growing louder, betraying his need.

One of your hands gently reached up to his face, guiding his gaze to yours with a tender touch along his jawline. "Shhh," you soothed, feeling his head lean into your palm, his usual resistance melting away under your touch. His four eyes met yours, the hunger in them now mingled with a hint of surrender.

You ran your thumb over his lower lip, lifting it slightly to reveal his sharp, lethal fangs.

With your other hand, you picked up a piece of meat from the bowl, holding it up to his mouth. "Hush now," you whispered, your voice soft and coaxing. "This will make you feel better."

As your thumb grazed his lip, Sukuna shivered under your touch. He tried to maintain his composure, but you could see the struggle in his eyes as his resistance began to crumble. The piece of meat you held in front of him seemed to taunt him, the primal desire within him threatening to take over.

"Hush now, boy," you cooed again, your tone patient and soothing, waiting for him to give in and take the meat. At your gentle command, Sukuna's pride wavered. The word "boy" irritated him slightly, but the hunger gnawing at him was too strong to ignore. With a resigned huff, he opened his mouth, allowing you to place the morsel on his tongue. As soon as the taste hit him, a low, guttural groan escaped his throat, and he began to chew, his primal instincts finally taking over.

You watched him with adoration in your eyes, your hand still caressing the side of his tattooed face as he ate. With each bite, you could see the tension and irritation slowly melting away, replaced by a deep sense of relief and satisfaction. His lower eyes closed slightly, contented, as he continued to lean into your touch.

After swallowing the flesh, his adam's apple bobbing as he did, Sukuna's voice was calmer when he spoke again. "More."

You smiled softly, letting go of his face only long enough to offer him another piece of meat. This time, as you held the food to his lips, his gaze remained fixed on you, a hint of irritation flickering in his eyes until you gently placed your hand on his jawline again.

He visibly relaxed, his irritation fading as he accepted the food.

Grunting in satisfaction, Sukuna leaned further into your touch, silently expressing his contentment with being fed and your understanding of his unspoken needs.

Once Sukuna had finished the last of the food you offered him, you found yourselves lying together in his chambers. His body was finally relaxed, the earlier tension completely gone. He nestled against you, his cheek resting on your soft chest, soaking in the warmth and comfort of your presence. You felt his head nuzzle deeper into you as he sighed in contentment.

"My good boy," you whispered, your fingers gently threading through his pink hair. "Just needed to eat, hm? So stubborn."

Sukuna let out a quiet grumble, a weak protest against your words, though the pleasure in his expression was undeniable.

"Not a good boy," he muttered, his voice laced with defiance, but his eyes were closed, fully enjoying the moment.

Despite his protests, it didn't take long for Sukuna to drift off into a deep sleep, his powerful lower arms wrapping around your waist as he held you close. His hands absentmindedly pawed at the soft flesh of your thighs, almost like a cat kneading its favorite spot, as he surrendered to sleep.

"Such a kitty too," you whispered softly, a fond smile playing on your lips as you watched him. "So grumpy until you're nice and full, hm? Then you take a nice long nap."

He grumbled faintly in his sleep, a sound that was both a protest and a sign of pleasure, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as he cuddled closer. As you held him, you couldn't help but feel a deep affection for the powerful, yet strangely vulnerable, king of curses lying in your arms.

[ultram0th]

December 08: Jake Andrich

00 │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08

Jake Andrich flashed his sexy smile for the webcam as he took off his shirt. He was having a special one-on-one cam show for one of his patrons who had paid for a solo performance. Jake was used to having loads of guys asking for a private show where the young stud would show off his chiseled, tattooed muscles. However, he was a little shocked at the boyish face with thick-rimmed glasses that this patron had, looking to be slightly younger than him.

Jake didn’t mind though. He was used to having older clientele, but he was more than okay with having a young adult gawk at his muscled frame.

His baby-faced client, Billy, crossed his arms over this thin chest as he watched Jake undress. His smooth face was expressionless.

Jake felt a twinge of irritation bubble up within him over the blasé attitude of his young client, so he decided to up the ante.

The stud raised his arms over his head, showing off his pits as he flexed his massive biceps. “Ever seen arms like these?” Jake playfully purred. “Bet ya haven’t seen biceps as fuckin’ massive as these.”

“…yeah,” his nerdy-looking client sighed.

Jake jerked back in shock, dropping his pose. “Um, okay…?” he mumbled, unsure of how to proceed. Jake fought back the chuckle over how much of a nerd this guy must be.

The stud shrugged his broad shoulders and began to flex his chest instead, figuring that maybe the nerdy guy would appreciate his smooth pecs.

However, instead of gawking at his pecs like many of the other men, the nerd looked unimpressed and even went so far as to ask, “Did you shave your chest?” An ounce of disappointment was audible in his voice.

“No,” Jake answered, confused. His chest wasn’t naturally hairy, which he preferred since it allowed his tattoos to remain front and center. “Why don’t you tell me what you want?” He could feel himself starting to grow impatient with this particular client. Whereas men usually came on the spot when he flexed his muscles, this young nerd looked as if he couldn’t care less.

Finally, the corners of the client’s mouth pulled upwards as he grinned. “Fine,” he smiled. “If it’s alright with you, Jake, may I call you ‘Daddy’?”

Jake cocked his eyebrow, not used to being the Daddy in these kinds of situations. Still, he’d already accepted the nerd’s payment, so he nodded. “Sure,” he smirked, “I’ll be your Daddy.” To emphasize his point, he playfully bounced his toned pectorals.

The nerdy guy’s glasses-covered eyes appeared to glow for a second as he smirked. “Good, I’m glad you agree,” he said in his smooth voice.

BWOMPH!

Jake felt a huge weight crashing down upon him, making him incredibly dazed. Feeling like he’d gotten hit by a truck, the stud shook his head, trying to shake away the daze. “Ugh…” he groaned, rubbing at his face, “what happened, Sport…?”

Jake’s voice trailed off when his fingers grazed his hairy cheeks, his eyes shooting wide open as he felt more hair than he should’ve.

As impossible as it should’ve been, as Jake ran his fingers over his jaw, he felt a lot of hair there. He’d usually had some sexy stubble, but this felt like a full grown beard. The hunk dropped his arms to his side, wincing at how different his body felt.

Jake looked down at himself and gasped loudly.

The first thing he saw was hair. A lot of hair. The coarse, little black hairs covered his whole body, making him incredibly fuzzy. Not only that, but he was way bigger than he should’ve been. With shaky hands, Jake gave his body a tentative poke, paling at how squishy he felt. Where a young, toned man had been sitting was now a bulky, hairy daddy. Muscle was still evident on the hunk’s body, but all of that sexy muscle was now covered by a hot layer of fat and man fur. His abs had completely disappeared, replaced by a large muscle gut that rested on his widened thighs. His hairy pecs were much larger than they should’ve been and they rested upon his new belly, looking large and cumbersome. Plus, his nipples had widened and poked out from his dense chest hair. His arms had packed on some serious size, and they jiggled a little when he moved them, illustrating that he wasn’t nearly as toned as he should’ve been.

And despite his panic, Jake was incredibly horny. His hard cock bobbed out in the air, but his view of it was blocked by his belly.

With disbelieving eyes, Jake looked back at the webcam, seeing that the nerd finally seemed to be enjoying himself. “Sport, what did you do to me?” Jake asked, noting the rougher quality to his voice and the fact that he’d referred to the young man as ‘Sport’. Worse was that the more he stared at the young nerdy guy, the more turned on he felt. He ran his disbelieving hands over his hairy chest, shocked at how good it felt to pet his fuzzy pecs.

“What did I do?” the nerd not-so-innocently asked. “You said that I could call you ‘Daddy’, so I thought that it’d only be fair for you to look the part… Daddy.”

At the word Daddy, Jake felt a shiver of pleasure ripple through him. His nubby nipples grew harder and his cock throbbed with want. Despite his inner panic, Jake was insanely turned on and all he seemed to be able to focus on was getting off.

However, he stared at his computer, seeing the section of his webcam reflected back at him. His face was slightly older, with little wrinkles near his eyes. He had a large beard with little flecks of gray scattered throughout it, completely covering his square jaw. The stud looked like a total daddy, complete with a big daddy belly and plenty of body hair.

Even though he was still freaked out over his transformation, Jake thought that he looked really hot.

Jake couldn’t help but smirk as he bounced his now hairy pecs before he rubbed his fuzzy gut. “You like that, Boy?” he asked in his deeper voice. “You like Daddy’s hairy chest?”

The nerd squirmed in his seat.

Jake felt his heart flutter in his beefy chest. “Yeah you do,” he continued, flexing his beefy arms, showing off his now hairier pits. “You love it when Daddy shows off his big, hairy body.”

“Ooohh,” the nerd whimpered, blushing furiously as he came in his pants.

Jake gave a throaty chuckle, still running his hands over his hairy pecs. “Boys love it when Daddy shows off,” he mused, already getting ideas over how many more clients he could score over being a hot, slutty hairy daddy.

[kyokutsu-sama]

_____________________________

The captain's sword

A/n: I've been writing about this man on ao3, I've already posted two works there and I'll post this one there later. This captain makes me feel things🤭(Seriously bro, there's something about men with tough personalities that attracts me...)

Tw: NSFW content

_____________________________

You wondered how you had managed to get to the base without falling along the way due to exhaustion. Your mana was extinct as was your energy, all you wanted to do at that moment was pass out on your soft mattress and sleep for the whole week but it seems that you had other plans before going to sleep.

You saw Yami at the counter and wanted to kill him after he sent you on a mission that almost cost you your life.

"There you are, you scoundrel !" You said, approaching the counter. "You were drinking and smoking while I was there dying, weren't you?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and an unfriendly expression on his face, as if he wanted to intimidate you but you were too mad to be afraid

"With my stupid captain, Yami Sukehiro" You said, sitting next to him and he looked at you for a long moment in silence, the cigarette smoke leaving his lips after he took a long sigh. He undoubtedly liked your defiant air when you dared to speak like that, strong women were his type and he was definitely going to play that game.

"Your tongue is very sharp tonight, I see" He slightly curved his lips upwards

"I thought you liked tough girls with sharp tongues. What's the problem now? Can't you handle them?" You teased and he closed his eyes with another long sigh

"Here, drink" He said, extending the large mug of beer to you

"You didn’t answer my question"

"Drink" He insisted and since you knew he was stubborn, you decided to do what he said

There was no one else there, you thought it was strange since they would also like to be there drinking or breaking everything but maybe they were already asleep. It was late and you were supposed to be sleeping too but since your dear captain was there, you weren't just going to turn your back on him. He enjoyed your company even if you were mad at him and you also couldn't ignore him when he was offering you drinks and company too.

Anyone who didn't know him at that moment would think he was a calm person, with half-closed eyes, a lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth, some strands of his black hair falling over his face making him even more attractive and an expressionless face. However, he was not someone to mess with and everyone there knew it. You also knew and that's why you pushed his buttons until he lost his patience, which was little and led him to do crazy things. He also did the same to you, teasing you every day until you went crazy. Deep down you knew he has a tender heart when it comes to you, even if he teases you twenty-four hours, even if he gives you more difficult training because he believes in you and your abilities and that you can surpass your limits, even though he was a stubborn and short-tempered at times, you loved him with all his flaws. You knew that inside his little heart was you and he himself admitted that to you a lot of times.

You placed the empty mug on the table and looked at him, who still seemed focused on a random corner of the room.

"I finished drinking, are you going to answer me now?" You said, looking at him

"Drink another one"He replied, taking a drag on his cigarette, still without looking at you

"Yami, are you testing my patience ?" You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head slightly to the side

"You're the one testing my patience, princess. Did the mission go well or do I need to go in there and take out the other guy for you?”

"No, I already did what had to be done, I even broke the sword you gave me last week"

"You broke what?" He looked at you as you placed the remaining part of the sword on the table. "Honey, I hadn't even finished paying, in fact, I didn't even pay mine, let alone yours"

“Well, Yami, it looks like you're going to have to start saving more money instead of betting everything on gambling like you always do, even with your clothes” You looked away in the last words, remembering when he came back from long nights completely naked after having bet them on gambling

“So what? My nudity is nothing new to others... and not to you either" He gave a little smile and you felt a slight blush on your cheeks."Now, regarding the sword, leave it to me. I'll see if I can find some money to pay this shit for the next hundred years"

"And see if the next one is of quality"

"It's not about quality when you don't know how to wield it"

"What did you say, Yami?" You looked at him with a threatening look

"Nothing" He said, raising hands in a kind of surrender

"See? You don't even have the balls to repeat what you said to my face, it just proves that you can't handle a strong woman like me" You teased and got up from the bench but he grabbed your arm turning you towards him

"Princess, you're making me lose my mind with all that tough personality. Come here" He picked you up and put you on his shoulder so easily and quickly that you make you scream at his sudden movement

"Yami, what are you doin--" He slapped your butt as he carried you to his room."Are you punishing me now?”

“And it’s just the beginning, baby" He laughed and entered the bedroom

He threw you on the bed and closed the door, you looked at him as he put out his cigarette and looked you up and down, wondering where he would start.

"Why are you looking at me? I thought you were a man of action"

"Be quiet brat, I'm concentrating" He said as he took off his tattered black cape and shirt.

"Brat? What happened to ‘princess’?"

"They will evolve for worse if you keep talking" He said climbing onto the bed and holding your face in his hand

Yes, it would, you knew it would. The beautiful nicknames he gave in the beginning would be the future dirty talk. It was only making the heat in the room rise as well as the heat building up between your thighs. However, he also had to be punished for the mission he had given you and you would take care of it.

"What’s wrong? Why aren't you laughing now?" He asked with a low voice close to your face and you blushed

He would tease you until the end, until you couldn't handle it anymore, take you to the limits and even beyond that. That was his type.

He pushed you onto the mattress and got on top of you, removing your clothes and you helped him, his strong and hurried hands roaming your body. He leaned towards you and kissed your lips, taking your breath away with heat and strength, you hugged him close to you, taking your hands to run down his back. His hand slid between your thighs and stroked the wetness that increased the more he touched you, he pulled your lip between his teeth before settling on your neck and sucking the skin there. You could already feel your sweaty skin and slight goosebumps, you whimpered when he placed his fingers in you and you tight them inside you. The ability that man had to make you forget that you were mad at him moments ago was impressive. You arched your back and both bodies touched, there was no distance between the two and you were delirious with so much proximity. You put a hand to the back of his head, he was still marking your skin and tasting every bit of it.

The fingers moving in and out and scissoring, opening more space inside you as you writhed and moaned beneath his huge body covering yours. His thumb brushing against the sensitive bud and sending shivers throughout your body, making your legs tremble. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure just at the feeling of his lips kissing your neck. You were close but you held yourself back so you didn't have to come before you could take control of the situation and play with him a little too. You grabbed his forearm and removed his fingers from you and turned him around, sitting on top of him, resting your hands on his chest while he looked at you, intrigued that you had changed roles.

"You're feeling very confident today" He joked, placing his hands on your waist

"My turn to punish you for giving me such a troublesome mission today" You said taking the belt off his pants to tie his wrists above his head, to prevent him from touching you

"You don't think this will last long, do you?" He chuckled, looking at you and you smiled

"No, but I just need some time for what I'm going to do. Don't worry dear, I'll be gentle with you" You leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips

You knew that he would go along with it because deep down he liked having you on top showing your strength, that turned him on.

You held the waistband of his pants and removed them. You had the beautiful vision of him all naked and with his arms tied above his head and that only made things heat up more. You brought a hand to his dick, stroking it while you looked at him and saw his hands start to fight to free himself, he just wanted you to continue what you were doing because it felt too good.

You spat into the palm of your hand to make back and forth movements as you felt your insides tighten with emptiness and the desire to take him right there but you liked the idea of just watching him suffer a little. Not that he was suffering from your touch but rather the fact that he wanted to grab your hips and bury himself inside you.

"What's wrong, Yami? I can't see your smile right now" You teased, using his words and he bit his lip, seeing the way you were teasing him

"You're a teaser"He said with a hoarse voice and his eyes half-open

Your hand moved faster around him, his hands fought to free themselves again, you weren't sure if he was closer to coming or letting go from the belt and making you pay for it.

He was right when he said that it wouldn't last long, and besides, he wouldn't need to try very hard to get out of that knot.

And it was when you least expected it that one of his hands was already on your wrist, preventing you from doing anything else, you looked at him after being taken by surprise.

He turned you around and placed you under him on the mattress and pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, looking at your panting and flushed face.

It seems like you would have to leave your revenge for another day.

"You found a way to surpass your limits again, did you?" You smiled and he chuckled

"You make me surpass them"

"Good to kno---" You barely finished your sentence and he turned your back to him and lifted your hips up. All that desire of his was making him impatient and with little time for conversation.

"You talk too much" His hand rested on the red skin after slapping your butt. "Just watch me surpass my limits again"

He was quick to place himself inside you and fill your insides to the deepest point, your fingers grabbed the sheets in front of you and your moans were muffled against it.

“You're so tight right now, Y/n”He sighed heavily."Don't tell me you were thinking about me while you were there fighting?"

He placed one hand on the back of your head, keeping your head against the mattress and the other hand on the headboard as he sped up his thrusts. You could barely breathe at that moment, even if you wanted to lean your head back, his strong hand was pressing you and the only thing you could do was feel your legs tremble and whimper every time his body collided against yours. The others would probably hear all those dirty sounds coming from the room but you wouldn't believe that any of them would be stupid enough to complain about it out loud, unless they wanted to move up the date of their death. He removed one hand from the back of your neck and brought it to your clit to make circular movements that made you tighten more and more around him. You felt the butterflies in your stomach intensifying when you came, your legs weakened and your fingers were still holding the sheets with some strength as he filled you with his cum, until you felt it running down your thighs. He withdrew from you and pulled your body back so that you were leaning against his chest, he bent down and kissed your neck while his arms hugged your body from behind making you feel protected from everything.

He could have all that size and be a brute, but he always seemed so clingy and careful with you. It was as if you changed his personality for something different, not very different but at least it softened this man's little heart a little.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I won't let you go on a mission like that alone again." He said kissing the top of your head and tightening his arms around you

"And I think I should also apologize for breaking the sword.”

"Don't worry about it, I'll find another one. Even if it means not seeing my paycheck for months or probably years." He said, laughing

[leonw4nter]

been obsessed with ur fics relating to Taylor’s songs 🥺 can u do one with ‘sl/t’? Just a good ole fluffy fic.

My Cuddly Eldritch Boyfriend!

Eldritch Horror!RE2R!Leon x F!Reader

“Ah yes, my human female companion, I believe I am required to inform you of my whereabouts for today. Since we have run out of the minuscule jar of the chocolate-hazelnut spread you quite enjoy consuming with sliced bread, I had to leave our shared den and purchase some for you. It appears that I have underestimated the price of such delicacy for the bills I have pocketed fell short of a few more dollars,” your boyfriend Leon happily recounted as he showed you the large tub of sandwich spread that he bought earlier today. “Boyfriend”, rather, if he can be considered that.

Leon waltzed into your life quite interestingly, a little more differently than most boyfriends do in the lives of others who have them. You were trapped in an unhappy relationship, the kind where you had to beg to be shown affection and got scolded for buying yourself little goodies like a funny little pond jewelry dish. He was always on his gaming computer or out with his buddies for beer and snacks, yelling at you over the phone whenever you refused to lend him more money. You went home one evening, after a draining workday, to see your “boyfriend” quietly cleaning around the house and stopping to greet you good evening and ask you about your day. It’s quite the contrast to go from an “annoying clingy hoe” to “human female companion” but the latter is leagues better than the other words hurled at you. Leon isn’t even the name of your former boyfriend, wherever he is now; this replacement simply decided to name himself. You know you should be looking for your former partner, wherever he is, but you don’t want to. You’re more than happy with Leon and you wouldn’t want another undeserving girl to fall into the suffocating clutches of your ex.

“A lady has also offered me a small slice of processed meat– a sausage, it is called. Seasoned pork meat rolled into logs, a cut skewered into an infinitesimally slim stake referred to as ‘toothpick’. It is quite delectable, I must admit, but I haven’t any payment in my pockets so I had to politely decline her offer,” he continues recalling. You take out your phone and google a word: “infinitesimally”. This is another of the changes you noticed with your boyfriend: his lexicomane speech; you would never hear words the likes of ‘infinitesimally’ and ‘minuscule’ from him, intelligent phraseology is not in his vocabulary. A few days after the swap of boyfriends, you found yourself having to install a dictionary app on your phone in order to keep up with his sesquipedalian use of words and engage in conversation. You smile, finally spotting the definition of the word: extremely small.

“That’s great, Leon. We still have some sausage in the freezer, though, so I think it’s only right that you didn’t get some coz we might’ve ended up with far too much,” you respond as you set your phone down on the counter. “What brand was it though? I might pick that up for you next time around when I go for groceries.”

“Hm,” he hums in thought.

His human appearance appears to slightly glitch as he delves deeper into his recollections of the day earlier; he appears to have a chromatic aberration, multiple shadows of his head moving about and twitching around in smoky wisps, as several muffled voices of ancient chanting begin to grow a little bit more noticeable in volume. You grow worried yet you stay seated on your chair, carefully observing Leon before anything too out of control and mind-shattering occurs. Thankfully, he finally manages to remember before the voices get too overwhelming for your human mind.

“I believe it was called ‘MorningStar’,” he finally says. He falls silent, head tilting as his face grows expressionless. “Are you alright, girlfriend?”

He steps closer and sits in front of you, back straight and hands in his lap as he continues to observe you thoughtfully, the gears in his head turning to determine how to approach you.

“Oh, yes, Leon. Don’t worry, just zoned out a little. That’s all,” you respond with a forced smile that doesn’t convince him entirely.

“Have you finally observed that I have left the bathroom light bulb switched on during the entirety that I was out purchasing goods to consume?” he quietly asks, voice laced with guilt and shame as he looks at you with something akin to puppy-dog eyes; you didn’t know that eldritch horrors are capable of giving puppy-dog eyes. “I apologize with utmost remorse, my human female mate. In my haste to please you, I have overlooked a step in securing your household utilities.”

You wonder what is the connection between his previous concern for you and the most recent sentence he just uttered then it occurred to you that he wanted to delay admitting to  you that he forgot to switch off the lights; Leon must’ve also forgotten that humans don’t have the level of perception as whatever his kind has, or maybe he assumed that you and you alone possessed that ability. You never would have known if he didn’t bring it up to you. It is funny to see this eldritch being that was clearly trying to pass off as human, as if you had the power of the universe in your palm and could so easily kick him out into the streets, a look on his face now reminiscent of a kicked puppy. It appeared as if he shrank into his olive green sweater, hiding into the warm and dark depths that the piece of clothing offered. Now his ashamed aura was seeping into you, making you feel a slight tinge of what he’s feeling.

“Leon, it’s fine, okay? We’re still in one piece and nothing too bad happened. Besides, I have enough money to comfortably pay off utility expenses so there’s nothing much to worry about,” you reassure him with a gentle hand to his firm shoulder, feeling the spot unwind from the tension beneath your warm palm. “That happens to me too and I get frustrated sometimes but now I just laugh at it.”

He lights up again and that aura of despair fizzles away lickety-split. He beams again, a little too widely for what could be considered normal. He continues rambling on about sausages before asking you about your workday and leaning in to listen intently; you talk and talk, he sits and devotes all his attention to you and answers too, from time to time. He’s a lot more engaging and present when it comes to talking about yourself than your former boyfriend; all he’d talk about is himself and how you’re lucky he loves you, the occasional comparison to other girls. When you’re finally finished talking about your day, it’s Leon's turn to talk about his.

You don’t want to tell him that he’s not perfect on trying to pass off as another ordinary human being– he still tends to unhinge his jaw when he gets excited, his form glitches when he’s deep in thought, he refers to you as ‘human female mate’ or ‘human female companion’ or simply ‘girlfriend’ though in a manner free of offensive intentions, he likes to change the shades of his blue irises, and his verbose vocabulary. Other than the multiloquent manner that he converses in, no one seems to pick up on the irregularity of his physical form, not even when there’s faint shadows of his head fluctuating when he thinks; surely he’s travelling to universes beyond human comprehension just to figure out an answer to “what’d you think of the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie?”. You guess that he’s conjuring some form of illusion that mask slip-ups in his form but why this doesn’t apply to you, you’re not exactly sure but you don’t plan on telling him his lapses; you’re perfectly content with him cooling up your drink with his hand alone in a matter of seconds when you’re out together. He’s far from perfecting the image of a totally human boyfriend but you’re slightly positive that he’s the most perfect lover.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“I would like to relish in the amusement of motion pictures with sound alongside you on our couch,” Leon expresses in mild emotion though he seems quite eager to watch movies, just phrased in a more archaic fashion.

“Me too” you respond with a small giggle at his unintentionally goofy personality. “Got a movie in mind?”

“Movie? Ah, yes. The moving images,” he recalls. “I have overheard this title from a young couple I happened to share a bus with, Kate and Leopold, they said. Appertaining to this hearsay statement, it must be a picture that thoroughly imprints itself on the heart and mind.”

“Kate and Leopold?” you say out loud and he nods. “Sure, why not. C’mon let’s head to the living room.”

“Of course,” he responds with an enthusiastic smile as he gets up from his dining room chair and quietly pushes it back before trailing behind you like the lovecraftian horror puppy that he is.

You put on the movie, both settling into a comfortable silence, attention centered on the film on your TV. In the middle of the film, you realize how you are quite near to him yet he does not make advances to touch you as he appears content with your shoulders touching. You sit up, inching closer to his side yet you don’t make this all simultaneous as you don’t want to shock him into discomfort. Much to your pleasant amazement, he not-so-subtly extends his arm behind your neck and rests it there. You look at his head and his face is still trained on Leopold chasing the snatcher, though the tips of his ears are dusted with a faint bloom of pink; who knew that cosmic beings could blush. Now slightly more confident, he slowly tries to urge you closer to the warmth of his side though he’s now hesitant with his actions. You snuggle closer to his side and now his hand is comfortably resting on the side of your arm where his silvery touch sends a flurry of tingles. Leopold and Kate are now sharing a kiss on a rooftop after a waltz to which your heart nearly goes into overdrive; Leon is not faring any better, visibly red-faced and overcome with butterflies that press up against his lungs (if he has any), making breathing feel a little funny. You wonder if he’s mentally replacing the characters with you and him and the image makes him feel madly excited.

“Leon, are you cold?” you ask towards the movie’s nearing end.

“No, but are you?” he counters, turning to face you now.

“Kinda.”

“Would you like me to fetch some for you?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can get it myself–”

Something heavy and weighted and fuzzy envelopes you from the chest down, placed down by the man beside you.

“What’s this?” you ask in a slightly raised voice.

“A blanket,” he responds in a nonchalant manner.

“Why is it so heavy? I know weighted blankets exist but this one’s a little heavier than what I’m used to…”

“It’s bear fur.”

You fall silent, staring down at the brown fur mass laid above your body before staring back up at him, silently asking if this is his form of a prank. Unfortunately, he is serious about this.

“Um… Leon, I appreciate the blanket but I generally prefer faux fur to actual animal-sourced fur. It’s, you know, more wildlife friendly… yeah, um…”

You need not to say more when the blanket is still brown but is now clearly made of faux fur, having changed it right away without arguments or insults hurled at you. He seems satisfied with his service, adjusting the blanket to cover you up properly without obstructing your view of the movie. You offer to share the blanket but he objects, tomato-faced as he stutters his apology.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The movie is finished and he smiles, remarking on how the couple was correct about their opinions and recounting some of the lines that stuck to him. He seemed to especially adore the portion where Kate is enchanted by the sight of Leopold on horseback, most excitedly analyzing the scene and going into detail about the look of love and the twinkle of Kate’s eyes before sighing dreamily.

“I wish to one day flawlessly emulate the depth of emotion she captured with only both her eyes, though I am well-aware that this is all expert acting. It would be my pleasure to one day look at you with such adoration as you tell me tales for there is nothing more that I desire than to enlighten you about the boundless worship that I present to you,” he wistfully conveys as he watches you walk around the bedroom before settling down to lay beside him.

You softly giggle, biting your lip as his voice bounces off in the walls of your mind and plays over and over again.

“Thank you. You’re doing a great job at that already honey,” you sincerely respond to him as you slip under the sheets and get snug.

“Your welcome,” he softly murmurs as a dopey smile points the corners of his lips skyward.

You ask if you can switch the bedside lamp off and he nods, the darkness of the room taking over as your eyes adjust to the lack of light. You lay still and silent before quietly wishing him a good night and restful sleep, to which he returns before he shifts and faces his back to you. Sometime in the middle of the night Leon awakens to the warmth and weight of your head and arms on his chest, the sight of you causing a human warmth to bloom where a human heart would be. You are peaceful and delicate, basking in the warmth that his form offered; the fact that you sought him out in your sleep made him feel loved, a feeling he didn’t know he’d grow to constantly crave. He pulls you closer and delicately wraps his arms around you in a protective embrace, a soft purr humming from his chest– an actual purr, like a cat’s. He strokes your hair with a silvery touch, daintily patting strands as he thinks about the fragility of his human and how he’d need to be very careful with them. His silky hands cause you to drift between the world of sleep and waking consciousness, growing more aware of his purr. You’re not new to his purring; he purrs when you two hold hands while running errands together, he purrs when you refer to him as your boyfriend to other people, he purrs when he finds out that you bought him a snack he likes. He has yet to discover that humans do not and cannot purr, that’s why you aren’t returning his physical display of contentedness but he’s satisfied that you’re letting him hold you like this. You don’t mind his purring at all and you’re firm on the decision that you love him and that he loves you back.

NOTE - First off, thank you to the anon who requested this!! I hope this one reached your expectations, even if I did put a little twist to it :)) guys... I think we're back!!! coz I decided to start on this last night at around 11:30 PM and I rlly had my creative juices flowing, like it just occured to me so clearly so now ig I'm going to start quite late into the evening if I'm going to start something new :D this fic is inspired by the eldritch horror boyfriend prompts that I came across on TikTok and also bc I felt like writing Leon rlly poetic and soft tonightt teehee :3 That's it and and I hope you really enjoyed this fic :)) Thank you for reading my works!!!!!!!!!! I <3333 UUUUUU!!!!!!!!!

The dainty chain dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[solbaby7]

Psychological Warfare

pairing: rhysand x reader

warnings: cruel Eris, insinuated methods of torture, taunting, angst, swearing, in depth descriptions of a panic attack, and again angst

summary: The High Lord watches his most fearless soldier shatter to pieces

—

“Just perfect,” You mutter snarkily to Rhysand under your breath, eyes scanning the lavish office and the steadily growing number of High Lords occupying its space.

It was spacious enough to fit the obnoxiously large table in the middle; had an assortment of liquors in their freshly polished bottles and no food.

Intentional, no doubt.

Booze them up and when their guards are low, the intel will flow.

“It won’t take long,” He hums back, hand rubbing soothingly at your thigh under the table and even though it’s clear to him you don’t want to be there—to others your face is the picture of neutrality, almost completely expressionless in your seat.

You ignore the side eyes, the Lords who clutched their wives tighter once clocking that you were in the room too—a vicious soldier that fought in the Night Courts armies, more skilled and bloodthirsty than any other recruit; more calculated and five times as determined as any other able body in those camps. Rhysand had hand picked you, promising you safety, warmth and a family if you’d accepted a position on his personal guard.

That had been nearly two hundred years ago.

One final group walks through, four men with auburn hair and sun-kissed skin and your body goes ramrod straight, quickly regarding Rhys in your head.

Were they invited?

Baron was.

“I see you’ve taken to collecting strays, Rhysand.” Baron’s eldest son jokes, dark eyes taking you in like a wild animal that had been perpetually starved.

“You should mind your tongue before I let her off her leash.”

Your throat immediately closes at the words—they were innocent; meant to be encouraging but the cruel laugh that pulls from Eris’ chest as he lowers into his seat is anything but comforting and you shift in your seat. “Funny you should say that,” Eris continued, practically vibrating in excitement. Fire burned in those brown eyes when he continued, he seemed to barely notice the others who’d been gathered for the meeting as well—watching, waiting with gazes that ping-ponged back and forth between you.

“Don’t.” You breathe out and for once everyone raises a brow at your tone, shock evident at the cracks beginning to emerge quickly in your fearless facade. The wide eyes, the slight wobble of your chin and that raw scent of genuine fear fills the room.

“I don’t know,” Eris drawls out, one leg crossing over the other and it could just be your vision but you’re certain you notice the lights in the room glowing just a hair brighter but it might as well have been a thousand degrees with the sweat beading at your hairline. “Everyone’s interest is now piqued, I’d be a terrible guest if I left them hanging.”

Your hands are shaking now and the look Rhysand sends you is enough to have your head bowing in embarrassment. His mouth opens to say something, probably to mention how you’d completely shut off access to whatever was going on in your head; how all your High Lord could see was tall, thick walls lined in barbed wire and heavily reinforced guards that remained stationed at every post—nearly impenetrable.

But, somehow, Eris finds a weak spot.

You try to brace yourself, the eerily cool pinprick of anxiety poking holes all over your body until everything felt like you’d gone numb.

“That’s enough,” Rhys spoke, a hand holding yours tightly under the table, shouting through the bond for you to just tell him what was wrong; what the hell was happening?

Trying to stabilize you, to will soothing words and calm feelings through that same connection but nothing works. One of your legs bounce uncontrollably, teeth gnawing at the insides of your cheeks until you can taste the blood and even then you keep on going.

“She ever tell you about her life before you and the Night Court?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, memories beginning to shove their way to the forefront of your mind after centuries of carefully locking it up and sealing it away. A noise pulls from your throat as you try and fail to regain your composure and a thick tear begins to burn trails down your cheek as Eris’ excitement exuded. “Eris.” It comes out choked, a half-plea but you should’ve known better—the Autumn Court never did do mercy.

You’re heart is racing and you’re sure that any of the high fae in the room can hear exactly how frantic your breathing has become yet you can’t bare to look at their horrified faces—eyes wide and mouths agape in astonishment as the Night Courts fearless warrior broke before them like a child who was denied the comfort of their mother. “She was given to me as a gift,” Your eyes clench shut, one hand digging into the roots of your hair when you feel Rhysand’s fingers tightening around your other. “—her old drunk of a father practically begged me to take her off of his hands.”

You could still smell the stale beer of your father’s breath when he’d dragged you through the streets in nothing but your nightgown and presented you to the High Lord and his heirs.

You’d never forget the way the males stared you down from their thrones, eyes raking in your body like it was nothing more than a new recipe their kitchen servants had come up with. “Please.” You beg, vision so blurry you can barely make out the cruel smile he wore, the burning white of his teeth blinding you like the most scalding parts of a fire. “Stop it.”

“I didn’t have much use for her at first,” Eris shrugged casually, retelling the story with such fond remembrance, glancing over to one of his brothers with a finger pointed. “But then my brothers and I were drinking one night and they jokingly asked if I needed a pet.”

Rhysand snarls at the way the word makes you flinch, eyes frantic and foggy like you were right there again—reliving the humiliation, the fear and disgust that brewed within for not being able to protect yourself. It had been part of the reason you’d trained so hard when you had escaped. Promising to never let any male degrade you in such a way again.

Eris rips at hundreds of years worth of healed scars in seconds, teeth thrashing and blood coating his maw while he tore you apart and exposed you for all to see.

You shrink in your chair and Rhysand’s heart clenched at the way he feels you go distant, staring at Eris but not really seeing the room before you; as if the eldest son of the Autumn Court had weaseled his way inside your head like Rhys could. There’s no explaining the way the air had stilled, High Lords exchanging apprehensive glances, murmuring words to Baron to tell his son to stop but Eris refuses to listen—drunk off the power and high off of your pain.

You can feel wetness on your face, your hands; it’s seeping through your pants and you can’t quite understand why. Not when Eris has his claws sunk deep within, waving the red flag bloodied with all of your secrets for all to observe. Like a show in the amphitheater, trapped in your own mind you relive every moment, deep sobs racking your body so badly the table shook with your emotion. Rhysand is beginning to gather you, shaping dark magic around your body so no one can see or hear you but the magic doesn’t hold, you’re too unstable—emotions too high and powers brewing on overdrive as it reacted to your distress. “I can’t breathe.”

Eris ignores your struggle, the way you are clearly drowning and fighting with all your might stay afloat but he keeps dragging you back down and genuine happiness is glowing on his skin at your reaction. “Spent all week mulling it over but I was walking through town and saw this display in a window,” He lets out a little chuckle, leaning in closer with fingers tapping casually against the mahogany wood, preening when you shrink away from him. “—a collar and a leash and it just hits me. My little pet. Come on, tell me you remember me putting it on you for the first time.”

Rhysand takes a more aggressive approach, protective nature on overdrive as you sob so hard you barely have time to suck in more air. Your hands are clawing at your throat, nails digging in, drawing blood and Rhys’ head whips back, double checking that Eris really hadn’t been using a daemati but when he looks into your mind—the towering walls inside are no more.

Rubble and glass is scattered everywhere in thick chunks like it’d been torn apart from the inside out, the plumes of smoke is scratchy in Rhys’ lungs but he keeps forward and right in the middle; covered in rags and bruises, ribs showing and cheeks gaunt, lashes and burns that covered more than it didn’t—was you.

With that damn collar around your throat.

“Don’t be like that, Rhysand,” Eris cackles in the background but it sounds like he’s doing it right in your ear. Your cheeks are red with your own blood and when Rhysand goes to help you stand, you’re putty in his hands. “I hadn’t even gotten to the fun part yet!” There are soft words, a palm cradling the back of your head as the High Lord of the Night Court picked you up and winnowed you away.

—

Azriel is waiting in the foyer when Rhysand returns with you in his arms, still sobbing but he’s calmed you enough to stop the scratching. Thick, angry lines assault your neck, blood pouring free and the moment he’d conjured up and illusion for your mind of you breaking free of that collar and burning it forever, did you stop fighting.

“What happened?” The shadow singer hissed, clearing the space between them and when his hand hovers over you, inches away from touching, another deep cry pulls through. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Rhysand snaps back with equal intensity, violet eyes blazing with anger and deep, unsettling worry as you clutched so tight on his shirt he was sure it’d rip. “Call the madja, right now!”

Rhysand urges away a worried Elaine but eventually stops fighting it when you seem to calm in her presence. Falling into action easily, Elaine followed close beside, dress swishing against the glossy floors while humming some soothing tune that had your sobs settling into broken hiccups and soft whimpers. Mor seems to appear out of nowhere, face firm and gaze hot when she regards her cousin and it takes no more than a second before you’ve been transferred into her hold. Nesta falls in tow, already equipped with thick blankets and steaming tea. “Just go,” Mor huffs out, her hands raking through your hair as she leads you to your room. “We’ve got her.”

[aquatic-armageddons]

HAVE A SEAT

MICHAEL MYERS X FEM!READER

[CW]: body dysmorphia, mature/sexual themes, not thoroughly proofread

Planning an eventful evening with close friends was supposed to be fulfilling, something worth looking forward to. That also entailed the anticipation of showing off the sexy, little numbers everyone's got on.

But in this instance, Y/N felt nothing short of a shameful and discouraging body.

Shedding as much weight in quick succession (before the aforementioned event) wasn't something that could be done. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with Y/N, she just had some extra meat on her bones. Though her friends tried to reassure her that weight was just a number and nothing to be shallow about, it still didn't change the fact she felt insecure, and it especially didn't stop her from cancelling last minute.

Y/N continued staring at herself in the mirror, expressionless. As she tried to wrack her brain for a reason to let go of her insecurities, and finally focus on something other than groping her rolls, a large figure slowly approached from behind.

"Jesus Christ, Michael! You scared the mess outta me!" Y/N jumped, turning around with a cute scowl on her face.

Michael tilted his head to the side, as if to ask about her depressed state. Y/N begrudgingly let out a sigh of slight irritation, not wanting to rope him into her superficial dilemma.

"Do I look...fat?" She squeaked, shrinking into herself. God, this was beyond humiliating.

Y/N was greeted with the usual head tilt and blank stare combo. Why had she even bothered to ask?

"Sorry, I guess I'm just being dramatic..."

After what seemed like forever, Michael shuffled past her, laying himself in their shared bed. Pulling his mask over his head, he stares lazily into her e/c eyes.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. Although this wasn't her first time seeing his natural features, she'd never get past it. How can such a ruthless, cold-blooded killer be so striking?

"Um, Michael? What are you-"

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. He surely wasn't going to have her do that, right?

"Michael, there's no way I'm trying that kind of thing! I don't wanna be responsible for breaking your neck!" She exclaimed.

Michael huffed in frustration. Leaping from the bed, he clutched the knife sitting on the bedroom drawer. In several swift motions, he cut Y/N's clothes off of her, exposing her every curve, every stretch mark, the whole shabang. Grabbing her bottom jaw, he pulls her towards the bed and lays himself down to his previous position, but with her also straddling his waist.

Grunting, he glared daggers at her, silently not accepting no for an answer. Y/N's face burned with embarrassment, her eyes prickling with tears.

"P-Please, Michael...I don't want to-"

She felt his strong hands grasp her thighs hard, and forcefully pull her towards his face. How does he have the strength for that??

"Hey don't- oh fuuuck!"

Y/N felt a white, hot pleasure envelop her stomach as Michael's tongue breached her lower regions. She tried with all her might to scoot away, but his grip on her legs held her still on his face. Y/N didn't want to allow her moans to escape her mouth, as she knew the slightest sound would only further encourage the bastard.

"Goddammit, Michael...!"

Fighting him was a wasted effort at this point. Y/N shifted and rolled her hips on Michael's lips, prompting him to growl in pleasure, the vibrations sending shock through her pussy. Moans finally escaped her maw, tears streamed down her cheeks and she gave in to her pleasure at last. Trying to chase her high, she continuously grinded on Michael's face, faster and faster. The climax was quickly coming to a head, as a wave of shock ran down her body.

"Ah, Michael~!"

Her hips shook as she came violently in Michael's mouth. His tree trunk arms still held her firmly in place, him not wanting to waste a single drop of her essence. Y/N was spent, head reeling with what just happened.

Michael soon pushed her off of him and laid Y/N to his side, her snuggling his arm on instinct. He may act like he's not the 'cuddle after sex' type of man, but he couldn't help but think she was adorable for doing just that.

Regardless, if this was his way of reassuring Y/N that she is perfect the way she is, who was she to complain?

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Perfect Queen?

BRANDON STARK X READER

Summary- As the new queen and lady of Winterfell, you feel out of place. Thankfully, Bran reassures you of your position and loves you for who you are- not who you are trying to be.

A/N- I have not written for GoT in awhile, but HotD season 2 has sparked my interest again! Reminder that REQUEST ARE OPEN! <3

Requested by- @eualiabd @zamwnda

Word count- 1,612

You were barely a noble. The third daughter out of seven girls born into house Frey. Not a single male survived long enough to carry on the family name. What does a family full of women do? Marry off. So quickly that just after your ten and nine birthday, you were the only sister who was unwed.

Maybe being from a low house, and not having much experience with lordship- landed you as King Brandon Starks wife.

Of course, your mother was ecstatic when the king of all men, wanted to marry you. You had only known the previously named prince when he was a boy.

His father, Ned Stark, would visit on business to the Riverlands. Brandon always joined, eager to see you. Even after his fall, you were able to see him one last time before he disappeared for many years. You were devastated when you learnt of his 'death.' When he returned, you figured he forgot all about you. Though, a dozen knights showing up at your door, requesting you to meet with the King, changed your mind.

"A Stark never forgets an oath." Was his reasoning, suddenly a fond memory of Bran and you as children appeared. He, even at his young age, held your hand and swore on his name to marry you one day. To join your families.

At his now official and surprising marriage proposal, you quickly agreed. Any woman would be insane not to, feelings aside, you were helping the reputation of your house.

While your reunion with him was quick, it was satisfactory. He had changed with age and with his new responsibilities. As king and The Three Eyed Raven. Deep down, he was still the boy you loved. Even if he only showed it to you.

The cold air was refreshing, not stiff not muggy like you were used to. Though it took some time, you've learnt to grow fond of the snow and crisp feeling. A trip back to Brans home made you overjoyed. Even if Bran was only there on 'kingly' matters.

A large coat made of the finest furs rested up on your shoulders. A pin with the Stark emblem let all know you were the Queen. A title you were trying to get comfortable with. There were so many duties you were getting familiar with.

That wasn't hardly the worst part, however.

What irked you to no end, were the stares. Mostly women who were in court, or wives of men who frequented the castle. They had no room to speak, yet still murmured and gossiped to each other. The audacity to talk about the queen as they passed you. It shocked you that they were so informal.

You could never get close enough to hear, as Brandon had two Knights with you at all times. You understood the precaution, though your freedom was slightly limited.

"Bran, please tell me what they said..." You pleaded. It was evening, and the two of you were sat side by side for supper. Only separated by a corner of the table.

He looked up at you, face expressionless like it always was. "It is insignificant gossip."

You pushed your warm plate of food back, you were not interested anymore. "Not to me, it isn't."

Bran was fully aware of what they were thinking and saying. Just because he was All-Seeing, did not mean you also had to bear that burden. He would do everything he could to keep away the ill effects of his powers.

"Consider the matter finished." Was all he responded with, very 'Bran-like.'

However, the matter was not finished to you. With enough time, you knew you could get Bran to cave into you. He almost never told you 'no.' All he wanted was to keep you happy. He just did not see any reason to spread negative thoughts into your mind.

You pushed your chair back with a small screech. Taking a deep breath, you took one long stride to Bran's side.

Maybe you were trying to soften him up, you'd never tell, but you wrapped both hands around his forearm. Even crouching down to look up at him.

"I want to be a good queen. I want to fix whatever they chastised me for. Bran, you know I wont give until you tell me... Surely you know that?" You lightly moved your hand up and down his arm. He did know, he just wanted to do something his way for once. Deep within, he knew you'd get what you wanted. It was terribly hard to do anything that upset you.

He pursed his lips, giving out a sigh. "You are a good queen." He leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

With a puff you stood up, letting him go. "Obviously no one else thinks so." Your dramatic side got the best of you as you turned and left the dinning hall.

You allowed yourself to wallow in self pity, something you'd have time to regret later.

Your handmaid rushed behind you, eager to help whatever the problem was.

"I just don't understand why he won't tell me, Tamsin." You sulked on a padded chair while your handmaid gently took the ties and pins out of your hair.

She pressed a friendly hand to your shoulder, "He just wants to protect you."

You gave a half hearted smile, "I want to get better, I've never been a queen before..." You stood to let Tamsin being to unlace your corset.

You both heard a strong knock, assumingly from a member of the kings guard.

"The queen needs a moment to dress!" Tamsin called out, aware of a queens modesty.

A deep voice called back, "The King requests to see her Majesty."

Tamsin stopped with the laces and went to peek her head out. You couldn't hear what she was saying, but she quickly returned.

"Uh, Ma'am, the King is outside... waiting..." She was always a little nervous around Bran, you knew it was because of the Title and passiveness.

She fiddled with her fingers, "You are dismissed, thank you. Please let the King in." She responded with a light curtsy.

After Tamsin opened the door, you stood and watched as a knight pushed Bran in. The two of you were quickly left alone as Bran waved off the man.

You look down, trying to press your dress flat, slightly anxious.

Bran simply looked, the smallest smile present. "I apologize for upsetting you. It was not my intention." He says, his own hands resting still in his lap.

"I know..." You licked your lips, suddenly your mouth felt dry. At the following silence you started again, "Will you help me?" You gestured to your lace that was halfway tied on your back.

He nodded, "Of course."

He pushed himself over, getting closer to you. You turned your back to him, pulling your hair over your shoulders.

"Bran?" You quietly said as his gentle hands worked at your laces. An activity that was strangely intimate and peaceful.

"Yes, my love?" He responded, mindlessly. You let the dress fall from your frame. You stepped out of it, now only in a white slip.

You gnawed at your bottom lip, tears were threatening. "Please, just tell me if I become a better queen?" Your voice cracked up on the word 'queen', tears spilling over.

Hands came up to try and cover your sobs.

''I have a feeling you have been struggling with this for awhile..." Bran says, ushering you to spin around with his hands at your waist. He would never read your secret thoughts without your permission.

You weren't able to deny or agree, but you turned to look at him.

"I have seen, and you will become the most loving Queen the realm has ever known. You will be named for your care of the people." He said, pulling you down into a hug.

"Really?"

You fell further to your knees, leaning your head onto this lower chest. Bran pet your hair slowly, his other hand rested on your back.

"Have I ever lied to you?" You shook your head, still buried in him.

"Would you really like to know what those two women said?" He asked, a finger bringing your chin up. You nodded.

"They said your house was not high enough for you to become queen. They were sure that they would be better candidates." His face was stoic, clearly in disgust at what they said.

You sighed and rested your head down once again, arms crossed under your head. You looked out the side sadly, though starting to accept your position. There was nothing you could do about the house you were born into.

"You do know that I would rather die an old and lonely man than marry another? Right?" He pets your hair once again.

A smile arises on your face. "I couldn't think of a more handsome nor giving husband of you."

Without skipping a beat, he says, "Well, that's because I am king." His expression and tone is serious, but you laugh nonetheless.

It is soon clear that he was joking as well, as he breaks into a grin.

You sigh once more, this time happy. "Can we retire to bed now?" You ask, squeezing his hand.

"Whatever you so wish."

Sleep was moments from taking you, your eyes fighting to stay open. You were pressed up as close as possible to Bran, your head tucked under his chin.

"I meant what I said, earlier." Bran mentions, staring up. Without moving you speak, "About what?"

"That you're already a great queen." Your heart fills with flutters.

"Promise?"

"I swear it."

A/N- Not going to lie to y'all, I hate this one. But, I promised more Bran content! Please let me know if you have any ideas on how to improve! Thanks for reading, and thanks again for the support guys!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[clockwork-ashes]

Of Fire and Poison - Part I

Read on Ao3

Summary: Prompted by one of Elain Archeron’s visions, the Night Court decides it’s time to remove Beron Vanserra from Autumn’s throne. Azriel must learn to tolerate being in the presence of his oldest enemy, but he comes to find that spending time with Eris is not what he expected.

Note: My first time writing a multi-chapter azris fic!!! I’m very excited about it, so thank you for reading <3

Tag list: @the-darkestminds / @secret-third-thing /

Azriel’s shadows whirled around him, dancing in time to the low music that seemed to float in an eerie echo from the ballroom. The howl of the string instruments rose and fell like waves against the shore, creating an effect that inspired even the most unwilling of guests to participate in a waltz. 

Azriel had always found it captivating, but even his undivided attention remained on the strained interaction between his brother and the heir to the Autumn Court. 

The High Lord of Night walked with a feline grace, maintaining his carefully crafted role while in the confines of the Hewn City. He offered his spymaster a subtle nod as he approached, stopping just in front of the carved wooden doors of the large room. 

Azriel inched towards him, protecting his brother’s back and using his own body as a way to block the entrance. 

Careful. 

The one word scraped against the iron wards of his mind and Azriel had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. 

Rhysand ignored Azriel, speaking to Eris just as his hand came up to grip the silver doorknob. He didn’t look back at the other male, but without a doubt, his brow was arched and his chin was tilted in question. “I trust you’ll behave,” he drawled. There was a warning in the tone that only Azriel seemed to recognise. 

Eris shrugged even though Rhysand couldn’t see the gesture. It was a smooth lift of his shoulders, the expensive fabric of his jacket pulling with the movement. “I make no promises,” he said, voice rich as whiskey. 

No more words were exchanged as Rhysand swept through the doors, shutting them behind him with a soft click, the lock falling into place shortly after. Eris scrunched his nose, most likely annoyed at the lack of faith 

Azriel was expressionless, waiting in a silent battle of wills to see if Eris would be the first to break the silence. 

Eris traced the rim of his wine glass with an elegant finger, golden rings flashing. He seemed to wait until Rhysand’s footsteps faded completely and the only sound that lingered between them was the orchestra’s haunting music. A vicious scowl tugged at his full mouth, familiar. 

Azriel watched, observing the way his shadows twisted and spun eagerly at the prince of Autumn’s booted heels. He kept his arms crossed over his chest and his wings tucked close to his back, silently conveying his confusion at their strange behaviour. 

Eris seemed content to pretend that the shadows weren’t even there, treating them as if they were nothing more than a gentle wind. “You have nothing to add?” He asked, snorting in a way that was unbecoming of a male in his position when Azriel didn’t respond. He lifted his glass, the muscles in his throat working as he drained its contents. Red curls kissed at the sharp cut of his jaw, striking against the bone white pallor of his skin. 

Lips stained crimson, Eris licked at the wine. Azriel watched the slow path of the other male’s tongue, forcefully dragging his gaze upwards to meet clever amber eyes. The torches in the small space flared, and his shadows scattered at the brightness. 

Eris raised an auburn brow, a knowing expression falling over his sharp features. Flames flickered, and the scarlet of his hair shifted so that it looked wine dark. “You’re going to help me kill my father.” 

Azriel frowned at the ease with which Eris declared his plans, no remorse in the steadiness of his voice. It was enough to make him uncomfortable, being spoken to so directly. “My High Lady wants Beron to be stripped of his power.” 

Like the woven sounds of streams and breezes, Autumn shifts to Winter. 

Of fire and poison, dry leaves rustle when a king falls.

The cold earth sleeps, and the breath of night flows like death. 

Azriel didn’t add that it was one of Elain’s visions that had prompted the Inner Circle’s urgency. 

“She believes I’ll be a pawn, easy to control?” The way Eris asked his question revealed no bitterness, simply interest. 

It took Azriel a moment to remember they’d been speaking about Feyre. “She believes you have Prythian’s best interests in mind.” 

Eris scoffed, tilting his head like a wolf, predatory. “And so the Night Court only upholds their end of our bargain when it best suits them?” 

“Be grateful, prince.” Azriel couldn’t help the rough growl that escaped along with the words, but Eris didn’t seem too bothered by the obvious disrespect. 

Azriel watched as the other male tilted his glass, glancing into its empty depths briefly. The diamonds along the arch of his ear sparkled like stars in an evening sky as he placed the glass onto the ancient table that separated them. 

Eris dipped at the waist in a mocking bow, holding Azriel’s gaze as he spoke, his words meant to be a taunt. “I expect you’ll be the one coming for me.” 

Azriel nodded once, feeling his face heat at the comment. “I’ll find you so we can work out the specifics.”  

Eris winnowed from the room without answering, nothing but embers remaining in his wake. Shadows whirled in the empty space where the prince had just been, and Azriel was left with the impression that they hoped to see him again.  

[pippin-katz]

Charles VS The Night Nurse

As promised, here is my extensive essay!

I was thinking about how Charles fought off the Night Nurse, and how the others reacted. I have a lot of feelings and thoughts, so strap in for an emotional roller coaster.

All of them were shaken in that moment, but Crystal in particular brings it up several times afterwards. Her real focus is on his anger issues, but she uses the Night Nurse incident as grounds for Charles going too far. She mentions it being "a lot" to watch, and says, "You lost your shit while beating the Night Nurse!"

Here's the thing, Charles reiterates that she was going to send Edwin back to Hell, and take him away to the Afterlife. She also dragged him through all of his most traumatic memories, which the others couldn't see, but it doesn't take a genius to connect the dots that whatever she did was fucked up.

She uses his name, which she shouldn't know, threateningly suggests testing what else she knows about him, then makes a motion with her hand that makes Charles collapse. He falls limp like a ragdoll. I'd be surprised if he was motionless or expressionless in the real world during this process, so he was likely thrashing, struggling, and gasping like he was experiencing a nightmare, which he essentially was. It's like a nightmare on acid; it's not some flashes of bad memories or scary things, he is literally forced to relive his trauma and abuse in explicit detail, while the Night Nurse taunts him for it. When he gets up, something is very visibly wrong.

The Night Nurse then asks Edwin directly what pain he would like to relive. When Charles starts advancing on her, he confirms what she did indirectly: "Good on you, yeah? With your nightmares and your sick smile."

It's not difficult to draw the conclusion that whatever she just did to him involved his most painful memories and trauma. Crystal even briefly saw into the Night Nurse's head, and ended up get pushed to the ground screaming in horror.

So, Charles' emotional state is completely understandable and justified, and his friends should've been able to tell that based on the situation.

The Night Nurse is also a threat. She is not a normal human being, but someone supernatural. She seems very capable of sending Edwin back to Hell, and forcing Charles into his Afterlife.

I don't get the feeling that she wants it to come to that; she seems to see herself as above resorting to force. She talks to them prior to acting all three times she attempts to take them on her own. This allows them to convince her and stall her, but I get the impression that if she really wanted to, she could drag them both off the mortal plane by force. She even tells Kashi that while she doesn't enjoy violence, she's not above it. She would've taken them when they got back from Hell, but Niko finds an actual rule that prevents her from doing so.

Charles got lucky. He catches her completely off guard. She underestimates him. She's confused and stunned as he attacks her. She genuinely doesn't understand why he would want to stay on Earth after everything he went through. They also happen to be by the cliff for this, and there happens to be a very large, hungry sea monster waiting below them.

Charles got very, very lucky, because this woman is a supernatural entity. But the others don't treat the situation that way, and you know why?

Appearance.

Consider for a moment how differently that confrontation would've gone down if the Night Nurse truly looked like a supernatural being. Say she resembled something more like the demon that took Edwin to Hell, humanoid but definitely not human, and scary. Do you think the others would have been so speechless and bothered if Charles had fought off something like that?

The answer is no.

The reason the other three are so shocked and upset is because the Night Nurse looks like a small, middle-aged, white woman, who doesn't fight back. Even though she is clearly unharmed by Charles' hits, they can't stop themselves from seeing the situation as: Charles beating a small woman with a heavy object and kicking her off a cliff.

That is what it looked like, but that is not what happened.

Charles fought off a supernatural being that was threatening to send his best mate back to Hell and force him to go to an Afterlife he didn't want, separating him from Edwin, and taking him away from the new friends he's made. He did not beat up a defenseless woman. She may have been unarmed, but she was not powerless. From Charles' position, the Night Nurse was a monster in human clothing, and he was completely within his right to think that way.

As a matter of fact, the Night Nurse in Doom Patrol looks inhuman/monstrous, and is even referred to as a demon in one of the articles I read about the spin-off show.

I brought this up in my essay about iron burns, and it's very relevant here, so I'll say it again.

The Night Nurse attacks Charles first.

The severity of her attack is hidden from the others; they couldn't even begin to understand how that felt, even if they were fully aware of what happened. Her attack is primarily emotional and mental, but it is also physical. She makes him relive being stoned by his friends and beaten by his father; he could feel that. The Night Nurse does not hit him, but she hurts him, hurts him bad. Despite what the others see, when Charles hits her with that music box, he’s retaliating, not initiating.

The others struggle with disconnecting her appearance from her purpose and personality, even though it should be obvious. All she did during that sequence was be cruel to them.

She uses Crystal's vulnerability as bait, dismissing her emotions with a self-satisfied and condescending smile, literally referring to them as trivial.

She fully intends to send Edwin back to Hell even though he doesn't belong there, purely because it says so on a sheet of paper; she doesn't seem bothered at all by what that actually means for him, despite having a visible reaction of horror to the Spider when it takes Edwin away.

She ignores Charles' statements about staying on Earth, twisting the knife by telling him how much he doesn't belong there. He died as a teenager, robbed of the life he should've had, and rather than showing any empathy for him and his understandable desire to stay, she rubs salt into the wounds with satisfaction.

She forces Charles back into his most painful and traumatic memories, and uses them to emphasize even more how pointless and worthless she sees the idea of him staying on Earth.

She points out how his friends caused his death while laughing, but while she's not laughing, she's reveling in being "right". She doesn't show any sympathy for him, despite pointing out the apathy in his friends.

She sees why his friends turned on him, and she's disappointed by it, like she was expecting something more. She acts like he's being overdramatic that he would stay on Earth all because his friends bullied some kid.

She watches his father viscously beat him, and her only commentary on the matter is that Charles failed to make things better, as if it was somehow his fault that his father abused him.

She condescendingly lectures Charles about how being good didn't, and still doesn't matter, as if he's naive about how awful the world is, and foolish for trying to be positive and helpful.

She toys with Charles, treating him, his experiences, and his feelings like she's got a doll with a remote and wants to press all of the buttons, just because she can and wants to see what happens.

She does all of this with a smug expression.

She turns to do it to Edwin, asking him what pain he wants to relive as if that's a question he could answer when his response is ultimately meaningless. She's going to do it regardless; she's asking him to taunt him.

She begins to ask Charles if he needs more pain to realize that she's right, like he's a toddler throwing a temper tantrum rather than a deeply damaged teenager who is suffering, from her actions.

She scoffs after Charles hits her the first time, seeming unimpressed and bored, as if this isn't a life-or-death equivalent situation for them. Their entire existence is being attacked, but she acts like Charles is lashing out over being grounded or told he doesn't get dessert.

Every single thing about the Night Nurse and her behavior should have had all of them distraught, terrified, furious, or all of the above.

What does Charles say to the jocks at the end of their case? That they were "cruel just for the shits"? How is what she does any different? She humiliates and crushes Charles like it's fun for her to watch. She didn't even need to do that to him; she does it to prove a point, and get him to leave "willingly", even though willingness is clearly not taken into consideration by the Afterlife. Before the Principal sees their case files in the final episode, she was going to send them to their Afterlives. She did not even acknowledge their desires. She tells them she can do whatever she likes, and fully intends to do so until she reads all the cases they've solved and souls they've helped move on. The Night Nurse could've forced them to go from the start.

Even the first time the audience is introduced to her, the Night Nurse is distinctly inhuman. The way she speaks about them, saying "bad boys" in an unnerving tone. The fact that she refers to dying children as a "flood of weak, feeble bodies". In her own words, she is not a living human.

Being swallowed by Angie is the best thing to ever happen to the Night Nurse. Without talking to Kashi, I don't know if she ever would've started to understand; even she seems to not understand why she wants to help Charles and Edwin after she agrees to. She still has quite a lot of work to do, but Kashi made her a more complex and intriguing character than she would've been if she behaved the same way throughout the entire show. That being said, they don't know that she's going to change and grow when they have their first confrontation with her.

The Night Nurse at that point is a monster, and Charles was well within his right to "slay" her as such. I truly think the only reason the others react so poorly is because of her appearance. I can't help but wonder how differently that sequence would've played out if she wasn't a little woman in a pantsuit.

In conclusion, Charles did nothing wrong on that cliff.

(ko-fi)

[girlwithsharpt33th]

ANGELIC - 𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓾𝓷𝓪

art cred: @innaillus (also on twit)

content: AFAB!reader, softkuna, brief mention of cannibalism, flashbacks, heian era sukuna, bittersweet love

a/n: second part of my angelic series! I tried a lil something new, adding some poetic elements

Being inexplicably connected to the King of Curses means your life can only consist of one of two things: calmness or chaos. You never know what to expect with such a temperamental partner. This particular night, however, you are quite certain it is the former.

He looks completely content, cerebral. not a drop of blood stains his lips, putrid metallic smell seeping from every pore of his body. Nor even a hint of something vile lurking beneath the surface. He smells clean, like soap. It’s almost like the abyss of sleep has baptized him, cleansing him of all of his twisted complexities.

he looks beautiful, your guardian angel incarnate. As if the memory of him consuming a woman’s breast not even an hour earlier was an illusion, gore encrusted lips grinning at you lustfully.

“Sit on my lap and watch me.”

communicating with his piercing gaze as he swirls his tongue over the stiff nipple.

shoving his fingers into your mouth, covered in the woman’s blood.

“Suck.”

Voice low and deep.

You shake your head. No good to dwell on things that happen every day. Right now he’s calm.

Bathe in his tranquility.

Your troubled thoughts dissipate and you’re brought back to reality as a finger darts out, poking you hard on the forehead. The force of this seemingly minuscule touch knocks your head back a little. His bottom left eye is partially open, peering at you. The curvature of it makes it appear as if it’s grinning at you. A soft smile plays on his lips.

“Sleep.” he says simply, pressing his fingers to your eyelids, shutting them. You can tell he likes the attention of your admiring gaze, though. He loves how you love him.

You hold the massive hand closest to you with your much smaller one and kiss it, smiling mischievously at him. “No, you.” you murmur. He lays on his back with his upper hands behind his head, closing his eyes and smiling broader. He’s listening to you. The thought makes your heart swell.

❀ ･゜ﾟ･*

You wake, having apparently snuggled up against your King’s side in your sleep. Warm sunlight spreads across his face, highlighting his features; warped mask, black tattoos, broad nose. Statuesque. Heat rises to your cheeks.

Your fingers dance along his bare pecs. He feels so warm. His belly mouth appears and you stick a finger inside of it, the large, flat tongue engulfing the digit. The muscle moves so slowly, sensually. One of his hands gently guides your chin to look at his crotch, propping one of his legs up, exposing his hardening cocks.

You quickly look up at him, curious to see if his eyes are open. They’re not, face expressionless. You look back at his cocks and wrap a hand around the bottom one automatically, his silent invitation not so much an invitation but an order. You struggle to wrap your whole hand around it.

He begins to react now, letting out a pleased hum. You smile and wrap your lips around his unoccupied cock, bobbing your head up and down lazily as he takes a fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

He doesn’t press your head down like he usually would, instead letting you choose your own pace. So gentle. What did you do to deserve this? He’s peeking at you now, his eyes trained on you in rapt attention, hazy with lust and admiration.

Suddenly, he extracts you from his cocks, grabbing your waist and lowering your pussy onto his face. “How generous.” you say and shakily laugh as his dexterous tongue explores your folds. His nose nudges your clit sending shockwaves of pleasure down your spine. You grab a fistful of his hair, riding his tongue. He groans in approval, pressing a thumb to your clit.

He peers up at you, his amber eyes half closed. He’s making you feel like heaven and the sun illuminating the room enhances the feeling tenfold. You clench your thighs as you feel that familiar drop in your belly. He speeds up his movements, fucking your needy hole with his tongue and pressing down hard on your clit.

You swivel your trembling thighs as you cum with a gasp, groaning hoarsely as his tongue collects every last drop of your release. His cocks lay neglected against his stomach and you move to get up to relieve him, but he grips your thighs tight, holding you in place.

He shifts your hips slightly, just enough to speak.

“This morning is for you, little dove.”

Your mind barely registers his sweet words before his tongue dips back into your sex, eyes so full of an emotion you can’t even put words to.

Your mind blank, save for 3 words, a mantra, echoes in your brain

My Love, My Lord, My Savior.

[kitkat238984]

Goddess Of Your Dreams (soulmate au)

Summary: In an alternate universe where soulmates are determined by unique marks, you do everything you can to hide your matching soul mark from the cold-hearted handsome devil, Hook.

But when a match with "Timeless" Toni Storm causes your secret to be revealed to the whole world, you have many awkward encounters that leave you both mesmerised and breathless.

TW: Mentions of sexual themes, normal wrestling violence.

The crowd roared as The Chairman’s Intent played through the speakers and Hook entered through the tunnel and made his way down the ramp towards his hungry-for-violence opponent, Wheeler Yuta. Excalibur’s voice fed through the TV screens in the homes of thousands. 

“And we see the cold-hearted handsome devil walk down the ramp, so confident and expressionless, a complete contrast to that sunflower soulmark he’s sporting there, wouldn’t you say Taz?” 

The father of the heart-throb in the wrestling world had to stay neutral in his job as a commentator, but never hid how proud he was of his son and his achievements. “Of course. But if there’s one thing I’m sure about is that he will make some lucky girl very happy”. 

“Hook, doing his ritual of circling around the ring. And I think the soul marks make you realise just how human we all are, showing almost the vulnerability in people as stone cold as Hook”. 

The match between Hook and Wheeler wasn’t for any title, only to settle a score when Yuta began cussing out Hook’s arrogance and the friends he “strings along”, and - as he usually does - Hook shoved those words where the sun don’t shine and had him caught in a redrum within minutes. After all, cursing is Danhausen’s thing. 

— 

A couple of weeks later, you were backstage, preparing for your upcoming fight against ‘Timeless’ Toni Storm for the Women’s World Championship. This was quite frankly the biggest match of your life, and against a wrestler who was far more experienced than yourself, even though you had been in AEW for a year now and had made quite the spectacle of yourself with your alluring character. You couldn’t count the number of times male fans of AEW had approached you with their clever but awkward pick-up lines. 

“You’re ready for this” , the voice of your ringside and friend, Kris Statlander, told you whilst patting your shoulder. “You’ve studied every one of her moves and trained for weeks on end. How are you nervous about this?” 

You ignored her question with no real answer to give her. You were ready, more than you had ever been for a match, let alone already being a decent wrestler. 

You continued to watch yourself in the mirror. You really did look like a goddess. And that wasn’t you trying to be conceited because your whole gimmick was that you were Venus, the Roman goddess of love and beauty and sex and more. You wore waist high blue shorts with decorative white buttons and drawstring with a matching plaid sporting bra which cupped your breasts and made your cleavage visible for all to see. 

You didn’t mind being used as sex appeal to be honest as it made you feel a lot more confident in your self. You’d hardly had any confidence before AEW until one day you decided to be brave, wearing very little sportswear at the gym which happened to be the day you were recognised as a potential for professional wrestling. Coincidence? Who knows, but you didn’t care. Everyone appreciated you as a good sportswoman. You were here and you were proud your dream came true whilst also being one of the best female wrestlers in the company. 

“You know why I’m nervous”, you said, timidly, glancing to the right of the mirror to meet the gaze of Kris. 

“We go through this every time, no one’s going to see it. They never do! That choker is very secure. You might as well be strangling yourself”. 

You hummed, instinctively slipping your hand under the large braid that snaked down the right side of your neck and swept your fingers under the choker, touching where you knew your soul mark to be. 

“I don’t even know why you bother hiding it. It’ll come out eventually. One of your hookups are going to piece it together”. 

You smiled and chuckled lightly at her comment and turned around, tiptoeing to lean closer to her ear. 

You whispered, “Daniel Garcia didn’t say anything when he had his hands wrapped round my throat”. 

With a hearty laugh, you went to leave the room you used as a dressing room hearing her dramatically gasp, saying “Y/N, you’re such a slut!” 

The door was half open with you facing inside. “I may be a slut but I still have morals. My soulmate is more important than any of those floozies”, you laughed again and opened the door fully, but almost crashed into a figure who was walking past and most likely heard the last of your conversation. 

You looked up at the tall man wearing a white hoodie and black sweatpants and immediately cleared your throat and glanced back down when you made quick eye contact when he glanced at you with a raised eyebrow and continued on his way, not stopping once to question what he just heard. 

“Awkward”. You turned your head to glare before nodding your head towards the hallway so you can get ready to go on, not before taking one last look at the cold-hearted Hook who had his hood covering that damned mark that matched yours. 

Why, of all people, him? 

You’d never even spoken to each other and you always thought that your personalities would clash. That is, if you even knew his personality. His cool exterior was only an act after all - or at least most of it. You had no clue where to even start with him. 

Your ‘quick look back’ must have lasted a little longer than you anticipated because you found yourself being pushed through the dimly lit hallway towards the stage. 

Toni Storm was already out there making her extravagant entrance as usual and the nerves suddenly hit you again like a continuous stabbing to the gut. 

Kris must have read you like a book because she began roughly massaging your shoulders and shaking you, waking you out of the depths of your own mind. 

“You got this", she told you. “Rip out the feathers of her boa and you’ll have her crumbling on the spot”. 

“Or that would just make her even more angry?" 

“Just beat her senseless and bring back that belt. Come on, we’re on”. 

You heard the guitar riff you’d heard so many times which was your entrance song, 'Venus' by Shocking Blue - ironically not such a shocking song for your character. 

Holding your best flirty face, you walked through the tunnel and stood centre stage, eyeing the crowd and blowing kisses at certain men on the front row, contributing to your act. You made eye contact with Toni Storm and gracefully travelled down the ramp with Kris tailing behind you, riling up the crowd a bit before walking around ringside. 

Entering the ring you saw she had a mic in her hand and so you thought you’d wait to attack and have a little fun first. 

“Any words before I banish you off the screen?” 

You motioned for the mic and she willingly let you have it. “First off, that belt clashes with your outfit. And secondly… I’m about to knock you into the 1800s, showgirl”. 

You throw the mic to the side and headed straight for the attack which Storm skilfully dodges but you bounce back on the ropes and high kick her in the face which makes her stumble back. 

You go back and forth with the attacks and a few minutes in it’s still difficult to predict a winner as you both fight through the pain, eager to get your hands on that belt. 

You let her swing you around the ring before stranding you in the middle where she kicked your back and you fell forward, face first into the canvas. Blood was most likely pouring from your nose at this point and you felt pretty helpless but, your arms the only thing keeping you up, even when she had your legs bent and leaning on your back you still wouldn’t budge so the referee never started counting. 

Everything from that point felt like slow-motion. Storm yanked up your hair and grabbed a hold of the precious choker that you felt the need to guard with your life. However, you couldn’t stop her as your arms were still in use to hold you up. 

You thought you could hear the voices of Excalibur, Tony, and Taz commenting on this scene when your oxygen privileges were taken away from you for a brief couple of seconds. 

“Dramatic as ever! Toni Storm ripping that choker from Venus, breaks the chain, and still has her-” 

“Wait a minute there, Tony”, Excalibur interrupts. “What’s that? On her neck?” 

“Why, it’s a sunflower!” He was quick to reply. “Oh, my god! Now, for anyone who doesn’t remember, that’s the exact same soul mark as our very own Hook! Taz, how are you feeling about this?” 

A few seconds passed before Taz responded to that question, bewildered by this realisation that millions of people in the fanbase had just come to terms with. “For the first time ever, I-I have no words. I’m utterly speechless”. 

You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You were in such shock that the one thing you were trying to hide was revealed that you lost control of your arms and they gave in to both the weight of yourself and Toni - who was still laying over your back - and the recoil of your head after the breakage of your choker. 

You acted fast when the referee began smacking his hand on the canvas and you swung your elbow back into Storm’s side, rolling her onto her front in place of you, pulling her legs back and holding down her upper back with your knees so she couldn’t escape. 

Within three seconds, you heard the ring of the bell indicating your victory and had secured yourself the WWC. You carefully got off your opponent and used your large braid which was still somehow intact to cover the sunflower mark. You knew it was all too late but perhaps you could save yourself at least a little dignity for now. 

You allowed your hand to be raised in the air and for the Women’s World Championship belt to be slung over your shoulder. You decided to not let your revealed secret take away your triumph and you gladly stood on the ropes of the ring and held up the belt for the world to see. Most of the crowd were cheering which you were relieved at. 

Jumping out of the ring you picked up a mic and yelled out, “Checkmate, bitch!” before Kris attacked you with a hug which you happily embraced, knocking the microphone out of your hand. 

With smiles strewn across your faces, you limped up the ramp and gave the camera a wink and blew a kiss before heading through the tunnel. 

You were greeted with “well done”s and “congratulations”’s, and you didn’t fail to notice every one of them look at where your soul mark was. 

“I can’t believe I just did that”, you said to them all, still breathless. 

“We thought you were a goner when she had you pinned like that. Such a turn around”. 

“Saw it in the viewing room. Could’ve gone either way”. 

“Y/N…” a stern voice called to you. You turned to see who it was and came face-to-face with the one and only Tony Khan. 

Ah shit. 

“I hate to cut this celebration short but could I speak with you for a moment?” 

You stared in shock. “Uh yeah of course”. 

He couldn’t fire you, could he? It was just a soul mark. Even though the scenario that he would get rid of you was unlikely, the fear plagued your mind. 

— 

“I first want to say well done for securing the Women’s World Championship. You deserve it after all the effort you’ve put in this year”. 

“Thank you”, is all you managed to say. 

“I’m going to be straight with you. It was very irresponsible to keep something like a soul mark matched with another wrestler away from myself and the team. We would have understood if you wanted to keep that a secret from the public but not us. We could have helped you and prevented a situation like this from happening". 

You sighed, knowing he was completely right and you should have at least told someone about it so you could get help to cover it rather than taking it upon yourself to hide it from everyone. 

“We can’t do much about it now. The public already knows and we’ll just have to go with it”. 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, sir?” 

“If what you’re thinking is incorporating it into a story line, then yes”. 

You had such mixed emotions coursing through your veins at this moment. You were relieved that you weren’t in trouble, excited you were part of a new story line, thrilled that you’d just won your match against Toni Storm, and scared as to what your soulmate would say to you after this. 

He continued. “But I have to ask. Did Hook know?” 

You shook your head lightly in shame and looked down at the hands that sat fidgety on your lap. 

“Well I’ll give you time to sort out a few personal things, and I’ll make sure promos are recorded regarding your new on-screen romance first before there’s any action in the ring. Thank you”. 

You nodded in appreciation and left his makeshift office, now bubbling in anticipation at this new opportunity. You practically ran to your dressing room where Kris said she’d meet you and you’d get changed and party until dawn, drinking to celebrate your success and to also forget about the future encounter with Hook, well… Tyler is what you’d found out his name was, but you weren’t ready to be so casual with someone you'd never spoken to before. 

— 

When you were back at work, you expected Hook to approach you straight away, however, the most you got out of him was a mere glance your way or sometimes you’d catch him staring at your back, not that he seemed even the slightest bit embarrassed to turn away. 

You couldn’t possibly start any conversation with him. In fact, when you were told what was happening for one of the promos, introducing your on-screen romance, you never spoke to him about it and had to improvise when the cameras were placed on you both. 

“Danhausen, tell us how you’re feeling about the upcoming trios match?” The interviewer asked him. Danhausen being himself, he had this scary yet amusing pose with clawed fingers in front of him. 

“Very good. I have cursed all three of them so they may die before then”, he said in his freaky accent. 

“And of course you’re teaming with Hook and Orange Cassidy - a pretty strong team formed there if you ask me - how do you think they’re coping with the pressure of this match?” 

“I fear they are frozen”. 

“Uh frozen? What do you mean by that?” 

“Some powerful sorcery has frozen them in time. Look!”. 

The camera first focused on Orange Cassidy who was leaning up against a wall, both arms and legs crossed and slowly chewing on a piece of gum. 

The camera then turned to you and Hook who were told to stand opposite one another, simply staring into the other’s eyes, your soul mark being the one to show the camera. 

Although it was only acting, you still felt butterflies floating around your stomach since this was technically the most you’ve ever interacted with him, your soulmate. No one else’s soulmate. None of his adoring female fans had the same mark as him on their necks. The thought of you being the special one almost brought a smile to your face, but you had to stop yourself when you remembered the cameras. 

You used this time to really appreciate his facial features. How had you not realised how attractive he was sooner? His jawline was well-defined yet looked so soft to touch. And his eyes… so dark but so… intriguing… and… and… what were you saying? 

You’d got so lost in the moment that you hadn’t even realised that the cameras were no longer on your faces. It was only when the clicking of Danhausen’s fingers in between you both that you were brought out of your trance. 

“I fixed them! I didn’t know I could uncurse someone…” 

You saw Orange Cassidy on the other side of the room, peeking over the top of his sunglasses with his suggestive look at you. Hook hadn’t once flinched or maybe even blinked and still continued staring your way. The fear and self-consciousness struck you like it had done a thousand times before and you awkwardly walked past him towards catering where you were to meet Kris and Willow. 

You were smitten alright. Unmistakably. And you did not want to make yourself feel even more flustered than that situation had already made you. 

— 

The plan was simple. "Timeless" Toni Storm and her husband and AEW wrestler, Juice Robinson, would talk shit about you in the ring, daring you to come out with the belt. You’d go out, say something snarky, they’d beat the crap out of you, and Hook comes out to save you. Easy. Simple. 

Except it really wasn’t that simple. Not when Hook was involved. You couldn’t bring yourself to confront him again. Danhausen’s promo was only the beginning and you only just managed to hold yourself together then. 

It took you a few laps around your hotel room that morning to clear your mind of the worries. Once all of this was over and everything made sense in the world, there would be nothing left to worry about and you would actually be able to get on with your life and career in peace. 

You were backstage, ready for your entrance. Hook stood only a couple metres away, eating a bag of chips. If there was one thing you definitely knew about Hook as Tyler, it was that he loved chips. Even when the cameras were nowhere in sight you always saw him with chips to hand. 

“...so what I want to say to Venus is that if you want to disrespect my beautiful wife, then you can come out here and say it to me as well. Come on! What are you afraid of? Everyone knows your dirty little secret now so you might as well show it to the world!” 

You took that as your cue and motioned for the sound and visuals manager to play your into. When it began, you wasted no time strutting out on stage, with no bother sending kisses to the crowd. After all, you were meant to be angry at them. 

You were given a mic at the end of the ramp and when you entered the ring, the power couple before you stood tall and confident, looking down at you who stood alone with your newly won belt you felt the need to protect. 

“Let us not dither with such a minor dispute. I don’t want to waste my time with an extra”, Storm laughed, and you heard a few boos in the crowd. Thank you. “You have stolen what is mine and I want it back. Now”. 

You smirked to the crowd and back at her who had her hand out expectedly. 

“It’s actually my belt now. My belt, my championship, my title. If you want it, you’ll have to come and take it from me. Mr. Loverboy over here don’t scare me”. 

An impulsive thought suddenly came to you whilst saying that. Where were their soul marks? Were they matching? People get into relationships, but normally they wait for their soulmates for marriage. Perhaps you just couldn’t see their marks, you thought, but then inwardly grimaced at where it might be as Robinson wasn’t exactly hiding much of himself with the amount of clothing he was wearing. 

“And where’s yours?” she asked. “Are you done staring at each other or are you still both lost little puppies, looking for their owners?” The teasing began to infuriate you. She must have been told to make the most of how she was the one to shed the light on your soul mark. 

“It’s… none of your business…” you awkwardly stated, glancing off to the side. 

“I’ll tell you what is my business. That championship. Darling?” 

Within seconds, the mic flung out of your hands for goddess knows how many times now and before you knew it, your hands were pinned behind your back and you had fallen to your knees, hair pulled to look up the 1920s star, officially at the mercy of the couple. 

As always, Storm dramatised the entire scenario, acting as if the belt was an Oscar she’d won for a picture show, and suddenly flung it to the side of the ring before striking your face with her forearm several times and you could do nothing but endure it. 

At one point you decided to test the waters and spat at her, who gasped disgustingly and kicked you to the side and you dropped on the floor. 

As if on cue, the arena darkened and Action Bronson played through the speakers, notifying you that Hook had entered the scene, and the butterflies yet again fluttered in your chest. 

Don’t get nervous now with millions of people watching you, Y/N. 

At the sight of Hook striding down the ramp with his cold-hearted yet handsome, sort of devilish expression - oh you got why they called him that now - Robinson and Storm ran past him towards the tunnel, Hook intimidatingly puffing out his chest through his hoodie as they crossed. 

The crowd went absolutely wild when they saw that Hook hadn’t stopped there and fought, but climbed through the ring and stood over your feeble state. As expected and without any exchange of words, he offered you a hand which you looked to the audience for approval before accepting gratefully. 

Ahhh it hurts so much. I didn’t realise the soulmate bond was this powerful. Was he feeling the same as me? How was he so cool about this all? 

You smiled as you both walked up the ramp in style, a couple that were quite frankly unstoppable to AEW. 

You didn’t bother lingering backstage, hoping that maybe Hook would finally approach you since you still couldn’t gather the courage to do it yourself. It was rather hypocritical of you seeing as you had an entire year to say something, but you just wanted to know if he was interested in you or not before making a fool out of yourself. 

A small gasp escaped your lips when a strong hand gripped your arm and spun you around where you faced the devil himself. He stared at you like he had all those other times, although you noticed the subtle desperation in his expression as his nose twitched and eyebrows furrowed, adjusting his jaw. 

His eyes shifted and you followed his gaze to where your mark was and self-consciously reached up to touch it but his hand gently took hold of your wrist, stopping you, and his head leaned closer toward your neck. 

Was this a chapter out of Fifty Shades of Grey or something? 

You couldn’t tell if your heart had stopped or if it was beating so furiously that it would burst out of your chest. A shiver sent down your spine and a shaky breath left your lips when you felt his own brush over the mark you shared, giving you the perfect angle to see his own soul mark. 

It really was a replica of the one you had which was a given. 

His head lifted out of your neck and he met your eyes again, this time exhibiting a sly smirk telling you that he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

How devious… but you couldn’t deny that you were loving every second of it. 

“Why were you ignoring me?” you finally managed to ask after weeks since your mark was first shown in the ring. His obvious attraction and reveal of his need for you as well fuelled confidence within you, and you were glad that this encounter had turned out the way it had. 

“Why did you hide this from me?” He placed a hand on the side of your neck which now filled you with warmth and comfort. 

You kept quiet and bit your bottom lip as you didn’t really have a good explanation for why you did what you did. 

He chuckled lightly and quickly looked over your body, licking his lips - a small detail that only someone as close to him as you were in that moment would have noticed. 

“Well now I know we’re soulbound, it’d be rude not to ask the lady for a drink after the show. So how about it?” 

A large, mischievous grin swept across your face. “I’d love to. But you should know that I don’t commit on the first date. Not to anyone”. 

“Not even to your soulmate? Aren’t you meant to be the goddess of love?” 

“Are you saying you’re already in love with me?” 

You had both found yourselves gradually getting closer and closer. You didn’t even realise when your chests had come into contact, breath tickling each other’s faces. 

“Can’t argue with the soulmate bond”. 

Almost in desperation, your lips crashed into Hook’s who’s hands travelled to your waist to somehow pull you even closer than you already were, your arms snaking around his neck, fingers sliding through the hair at the top of the nape of his neck. 

“...I thought these videos were meant to be about me…” a voice broke you out of your kiss and you felt Hook huff and pout like he usually does, making you giggle at his childishness. 

You turned and saw Danhausen standing, watching you both in confusion with the camera crew situated behind him, pointing towards you. 

This was undoubtedly going to be aired in a promo but you couldn’t care less in that special moment of yours. The crew left once they realised that you both weren’t going to budge from where you were. You’d just been thrown in the arms of your soulmate after a year of knowing the truth and over a month of incredible attraction. 

Your attention was very quickly back on the man securely holding you in place, and you decided to tease him a little if that was the game you were going to be playing. “I’m not just the goddess of love. I’m the goddess of beauty… desire… sex…” 

Knowing exactly where you were going with this, his smirk returned, bigger than before. “Well let’s see. Beauty? Check. Desire?” He told a hold of your hand before guiding it towards the bulge that stuck out of his sweatpants. You squeezed his length gently, earning a soft groan before pulling your hand away again. “Check. Sex? Well I guess I’ll be the judge of that”. 

His hands slid down, cupping your ass and lifting you up with ease as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt yourself being carried through the halls backstage and you used this time to entangle your hands back through his hair which caused him to squeeze where his hands were placed on your backside. 

You lightly nibbled on his neck where the mark was and breathed in all of him. 

Ugh. Did he always smell this fucking good? 

You didn’t care if the people you passed were judging you or not; you only cared that all this tension was finally about to be released. 

“You’ll be turning full heel after the night is over, baby. I’m about the fuck all that gracefulness out of you”. 

You giggled and leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “You just try me”. 

THE END. 

[staarboyyy]

Negotiations | [ chapter ii ]

soldier boy x reader | no pronouns, afab anatomy

explicit - minors dni

warnings ; dubcon, forced orgasms, slight daddy kink, glove kink if you squint, size kink, southern charm, drug use, wall sex, no pronouns used for reader but afab anatomy is repeatedly mentioned

summary ; upon joining The Boys to take down Homelander with the help of Soldier Boy, you come to realize he's much more of a hard bargain than you anticipated.

word count ; 3.5k

a/n ; kind of an intense first fic , soz LMAO ! thanks to the cozy corner for cheering me on to post some stuff, enjoy :)

Soldier boy's boots were heavy against the sidewalk pavement, his eyes narrowing towards the night sky. His gaze swept over the stars with a low sigh pressed between his teeth. A joint was perched between his lips, smoke fizzling into the air around him, swirling as he walked through the thick cloud. He moved his hands to his face, gently holding the joint, taking a sharp inhale and letting the smoke filter from between his pursed lips. With a slow turn of his head, he turned towards a dark alley, eyebrows furrowing briefly before setting off into the narrow space. He stepped over garbage, passing beggers with a twitch of his jaw; He had his eye on something else. 

Upon making a deal with Butcher and Hughie, he had taken note of how the original team had suddenly - Broken off. Into pieces, stemming and clashing away from each other; Hughie and Butcher, Starlight and M.M., Kimkio and Frenchie - And.. You. Just You. By yourself? Soldier Boy was unsure, his eyes narrowing as he looked down the alley, looking at you with a sense of curiosity. He took slow steps forward, stepping into the puddled pavement with a cock of a brow. 

“All alone, pumpkin?"

The man’s voice was deep, thundering through the alley, taking the air from all the lungs near him. His tone dangled innocent bystanders by the throat, staring them down with a piercing gaze and a glinting smile - A predator. He padded closer before stopping, eyes scraping over your frame with an invasive gaze. He dropped the filter of the smoked joint to the ground, his heavy boot stepping on it with a slow movement forward, cornering you with an expressionless face - He tilted his head slightly back and forth, pulling in a sigh as he confirmed the question himself. He didn’t want to waste time waiting for you to answer. Soldier boy’s gloved hand reached out, grabbing your jaw, holding your cheek with his thumb, pressing down into the soft skin with a clench of his jaw. 

“That’s what I figured.”

His voice lowered to a hardly audible mumble, eyes barreling into yours before quickly moving his arms, grabbing onto your left wrist, twisting it around your back, your cheek now pinned to a brick wall. Soldier boy didn’t even grunt from the effort, unphased entirely by any protests or firing questions you threw from underneath him.

"Shut your fuckin' mouth."

The purred words pressed upon the shell of your ear with an unsettling taste of animosity. The way his large fingers curled over your wrists, pushing them down effortlessly, was nothing out of the ordinary for the man. Subduing others to the position of absolute submission with a gripped fist was something he did every day - Especially now. 

Soldier boy didn't necessarily want to help Butcher with his feeble needs, only agreeing to have his favor of slaughtering his team returned. Though, Butcher and Hughie seemed to press and bend the rules, as if they were more of a suggestion. Whenever a demand for him is made, everyone in the room's attention dives towards him, anticipating his piercing glare; In short, he gets what he wants, especially when he has the leverage of a lifetime. If he wanted the boys dead, they'd be dead. And if he wanted to add you to his deal with Butcher, he'd do it.

"It's just me, darlin'."

While his tone fell quieter, the stomach churning sense of danger never wavered, weaving heinously through the demeaning pet name. He knew you'd recognize his voice, if not the smell of his fogging cologne and aftershave - It was sharp, cold enough to make your senses hitch, stopping in their tracks. 

With a slight press harder into the dark wall, Soldier boy's face twitched, making way for a snide smirk and creased brow. His free hand traveled towards your hair, stringing his rough fingers into the locks, firmly yanking them back with a chuffed exhale.

"A pretty little tease, aren't you?"

He loved the thrill of the hunt, a secret to nobody - And the pressure of his heightening arousal on your lower back was making itself more apparent; He was getting off on your shuddered breaths and gasps, how you relaxed into the foreign touch. It almost made the corners of his lips pull up slightly, twitching a slight smirk before gritting his teeth, shifting his jaw. He could stay positioned like this for hours, and by the looks of it that would be the case. The idea alone was enough to release your throat, hands joining eachother on your chest. His arms flexed, keeping you pinned to his towering frame. A heat of searing desire coursed through the mans veins, heart pounding steadily as he groped you with little regard. His movements were fast, pent up and desperate while also trying to savor the sheer perverseness of the moment - The thrill of the chase. One of his hands rose back towards your mouth, pressing the tip of his middle finger to his lips.

"Bite down."

The man's voice was sharp, cold and almost robotic, though the shuddering breaths and him subconsciously thrusting himself into your quivering body gave it all away. As he waited for you to follow his orders, his other hand continued at your chest, biting down on his lip.

In a swift slam of your teeth against his finger tip, you evened the score boards. 

Soldier boy slid his hands out from the glove with ease, despite your teeth pressing harshly into his flesh. It was like nothing to him. He gave a chuffed exhale, hand wrapping over the discarded glove and tearing it from the your mouth, letting it drop to the ground.

"Bite me again, and I'll knock your fuckin' teeth out."

As he spoke, his bare hand pressed to your stomach, fingertips rubbing over the warm skin with another drawn out groan. Quiet enough to roll out of his throat and chest in a pleased purr as his hand moved lower, lower. Yet right before dipping to push past your waistband, he paused, leaning into the blondes ear with a quiet hum.

"Let's make a deal, sugar."

The nickname was spouted with venom, the small snarky smirk clear in his sharp cold voice - In a way, he made it sound like no matter if you wanted to agree with the odd negotiation, he'd continue anyways.

"If I touch you - and you aren't wet, I'll leave you be,"

Soldier boy began, pride only growing into a smile that'd be pasted on threatening posters so many years ago - A powerful man driven into the pits of depravity.

"But if your pretty pussy needs some attention,"

The cold hand slid down then, tracing over the waistband before sliding his fingertips past the fabric. He bit his bottom lip. In either scenario, maybe he wouldn't have cared if you was wet, yet the idea of feeling the your own body betray your mind was a thrilling one to say the least.

"Well you could've just asked me for some help darlin'."

With those words sharpening the air, Soldier boy's middle and index finger slid over your cunt, lowering to slide between his slick folds with a shuddered breath. The heat alone made his hips stutter forward, desperate for any friction. His thick finger slid over your heat, spreading the arousal messily over the sensitive area, paying careful attention to your stiffening clit.

"See? Sometimes you just don't know what you need,,"

You wanted to fight - To scream even. Yet how his body pinned yours to the cold wall, his invasive touch unwavering as he murmured quietly. It struck you to your core, fear and a strange thrill lighting itself ablaze through your veins.

"I know sugar, I know,"

Soldier boy's tone was sickly thick with a demeaning sweetness, the whispers brushing over your ear. His fingers still continued to grope and explore your, coaxing a pleased hiss from between his gritted teeth. Soldier boy, in truth, could hardly get enough of hearing you snap back barked demands and insults; The strain in your voice, struggling to keep a steady breath as Soldier boy's thick fingers prodded your soaked entrance. It was all falling into place. The mans other hand moved away from your chest, keeping the force of his heavy body pinning you to the wall. His gloved hand dawned his metal belt buckle, thumb rolling over the clasp with a slightly trembling sigh. As he managed to slide the belt away from his body, his middle finger had begun to push slowly into your cunt. A groan reached Soldier boy as he slid inside you, biting his bottom lip and leaning forward into your shoulder. His free hand had gotten busy quite quickly, palm rubbing over his twitching cock with a quiet mutter to himself. He could feel his rushing pulse through his shaft as he wrapped his hand around himself, moving to the same pace of his finger inside you. 

"God damn baby,"

It'd been far too long since he had taken someone like this, years upon years. It really did build a certain type of tension - A tension that pulled and pulled tightly in his stomach, finger flexing inside you with a thrust of his hips, practically fucking his own fist. The feeling of your body responding to him was euphoric, the twitching of your legs and how your thighs pressed together deliciously; In another world, perhaps he would have stopped to force your legs open, taking his fill of the fear driven arousal, but he couldn't wait, let alone be patient. As Soldier boy pressed deeper, up to the second knuckle, his ring finger began to follow suit. The resistance of your heat made his eyes fall shut, lips parted as he growled, imagining just how much he'd have to stretch you open with his cock. 

"That's it baby, just open up for me,"

The encouragement was laced with quiet sharp exhales, hand still rocking against his twitching cock, letting the weight of it rest against your lower back.

"Let's see that pretty face,"

As Soldier boy spoke, he shuddered out a strained exhale, both hands slowing before he moved - Quickly, aggressively and silently demanding you obey him. He was able to turn your body now to face him with little effort, your back now pressed against the damp wall. There was a beat as your eyes met, a clashing mix of staggered breathing and looking over one anothers face. 

Soldier boy had never looked at you. Not really, not in the way he'd looked at Butcher or Hughie, to search for an understanding. He didn't quite feel the need to understand, or interest in the process of such a thing. And yet, as his cold eyes fell upon your features, he felt a strange thundering in his chest; When he leaned in, it was slow. Almost tender as his iron grip on your shoulders loosened, moving to continue his exploration - Or perhaps, understanding, of you. When your lips met, a surge of heat pumped through Soldier boy's veins, cock twitching at the simple action. Despite your struggling, he seemed to bask in the warmth of it - His lips tasted like weed, whiskey with a sharp metallic tang. The kiss wasn't rough, they didn't follow the desperate pattern of his assaulting hands, not even when his fingers had pushed past your waistband once more.

Soldier boy pulled back after a few moments, lips ajar as he kept the fierce eyecontact - He wanted to see it. See it all. The way your brows would crease upon his thick fingers returning to tease you, thumb rolling over your twitching clit with an almost bored expression. Though, Soldier boys heart slammed against his ribs, and he knew you could feel it. His other hand caught your jaw, keeping it firmly in place as his fingers worked back inside of you. 

"Keep your eyes on me sugar."

The words were the quietest they had been, strangely gentle as his teeth sank down onto his bottom lip. He was loving every second of this, pressing his heavy weight into your body and cock pressed between you. 

"Y - You're fucking sick."

Soldier boy's expression creased into a slight smirk, piercing gaze tearing into the others with a shuddered breath. The sound of your anger was music to his ears, your shaking voice and strained attempt to convince Soldier boy. Nothing could stop him now, not with his fingers knuckle deep in your desperate cunt; Your body made obscene noises around his thick fingers, curving upwards and pressing in slow deep thrusts. His fingers reached places that your smaller ones never could, practiced and feverent, arousal and wetness rolling down to his wrist at this point. After a few moments, he pulled his fingers from you, moving them to wrap over his heavy cock with a quiet grunt. The warmth and slick mixed together deliciously around him, rolling his fingers over his tip.

"Sticks and stones, pumpkin."

He breathed, lidded eyes glued to you as he continued to touch himself, other hand now yanking down your pants. Once they fell around your ankles, Soldier boy kicked them away, gritting his teeth impatiently. He didn't just need this, he craved it, in every sense and manner. With a swift move of his body, he hoisted you into his arms, your back still against the wall as Soldier boy held you from under the knees - You were completely exposed to the man, the twitching tip of his cock needily prodding against your soaked entrance.

"Let me hear that pretty voice, huh?"

As he drew his fingers from you, you shuddered, your body quaking with the clashing mix of adrenaline and arousal.

"Just fuck me already."

That was all Soldier boy needed, just the right amount of broken whimpering that caused his hips to stutter forward into your soaked heat. A husked groan followed his sharp gasp as his cock began to push inside you, head tilting back slightly as he leaned into your shoulder. He was thick, the heavy weight of him pressing slowly into the you - He basked in the teasing pace, only half way inside before slowly pulling out. Arousal coated him, glistening in the far off streetlamps, the air between you wet and hot from drinking down oxygen with pure desperation. Soldier boy didn't let his eyes leave yours, sustaining the lazy eyecontact as he gave a twinge of a smirk. Perhaps it was a premonition to his next swift thrust of his hips, bottoming out into you with a strangled moan. His grasp on you tightened, essentially pulling you up and down around his cock at a now ravenous pace. The obscene sounds of your cunt raised goosebumps on Soldier boys neck, lips hanging open as he rolled his hips. It had been far too long since he'd done anything near this - And with that, he leaned in once more, lips grazing your cheekbone with a gritted exhale. 

"All this 'cause of me?"

He gave a punctuating thrust to his question, chuckling between his quiet hums of approval, stilling his assault on you for a few moments. Just being inside you, still and unmoving, could drive him wild. The reactions your body had to this were carnal, a deep rooted craving.

"Butcher - H - He'll kill you for this,"

"Yeah?"

The mutter seeped between his lips, hips coming to a sharp stillness. His expression fell, strands of brown hair hanging over his eyes as he pulled back to catch your gaze. With a tilt of his head, he arched his back slightly, his cock twitching as it shifted inside of you. As it moved, it pressed deliciously against your g-spot, staying bottomed out as he rocked agonizingly slow into the you. It was almost a challenge, a pressing warning as he kept a bored expression despite quickening his rocking hips. He bit down onto his bottom lip, head falling back with a groan. It was louder than before, drawn out and pillowed with the velvet of his voice, nearly erotic despite the nature and fierceness of how he clung to you.

"I think you just need a little rewiring in that ditzy head of yours, sugar."

After a moment, came a fierce thrust, cock pressing against your cervix, the resistance and heat of it causing his teeth to grit. 

"Maybe I can help with that,"

Soldier boy repeated the motion, slow and punctuated, practiced and forceful. As it began to speed up though, another rolling groan filled the hazey air between you, he hiked you up closer to him - He pistoned into your cunt, grunting with the pace of it with a bitten lip. 

Soldier boy's pace was not just relentless, but messy in the most delicious way. How his hips jolted forward, hands tightening on your body as he bottomed out agonizingly slow, eliciting another moan from the man. He stayed still for a moment, savoring the feeling of your cunt milking his cock, face buried in your shoulder as he hiked up your legs once again. Your back was no longer against the hard wall. Your body was supported by Soldier boy's large invasive hands - He rocked forward tentatively, making way for a strangled exhale. The new angle was irresistible, the head of his cock tilted upwards, able to get deeper all the while your g-spot was able to feel every inch of him, pushing in and out.

"So fuckin' tight,"

Soldier boy whispered to himself, eyes wrenching shut for a brief few seconds. A wave of searing desire struck down through the mans veins, bundling tightly in his abdomen as his hips began to speed up once again. The obscene sounds of your bodies echoed shamelessly through the alley, Soldier boy's mutters and gritted gasps growing more frequent, brow creasing as he looked over your body. 

"Good, keep your hips - God fuck, yes sugar,*

Soldier boy clenched his jaw, determined to force the orgasm from you. A betrayal of the body beyond belief - Perhaps he'd have to cum inside you. Make a point beyond repair that you'd would never be able to escape him; And that you'd never be fucked like that ever again.

"Look at you, takin' daddy alll the way,"

His sharp eyes flicked towards your cunt, wrapping tightly around his cock like a vice, wetness spread over the both of you now. He took in the sight greedily, watching himself slip in and out feverishly. Soldier boys eyebrows knitted together, lips hanging open as he kept his eyes on the assault, seemingly unable to look away.

Tears tracked from your eyes in small beads, clinging onto the man as he continued the ravenous motion. The pleasure dug harshly at your spinning mind, each deepening thrust to the depths of your cunt had just gotten more electric. It was irresistible, a sparking bundle of flames pressing harshly against your sweat glazed flesh. This feeling overtook your senses entirely. 

But the fire that Soldier boy ignited deep within you grew, roaring as your legs locked tightly around his waist. Your eyes were shut, eyebrows furrowing and hands grasping Soldier boys steady shoulders, your hips gently rocking in time with his quickening thrusts. He needed this, needed to feel you come undone, hear your voice pitch up and break as you feebly attempted to silence your outcries. As your nails dragged over his flesh, the binding chord of heat that seemed to strangle the agonizing pleasure from your spinning mind snapped, sending a crackling wave of euphoria through your veins.

As you came undone around Soldier boy, he gritted his teeth hard, exhaling through them with a sharp moan - This feeling was a familiar one, one that reeled the mans head as he ruthlessly pounded, impossibly faster. He grunted, head dipping down to lean against your forehead; He didn’t want his eyes to open, yet they did, lulling open to meet the yours as he gave a puncating thrust, given with a bite of his lip. As he came, his cock twitched more than before, releasing into your cunt messily as he breathed raggedly. With a swift movement of his head, he crushed your lips together once more, savoring the feeling washing over him.

”There you go,”

He murmured quietly after pulling back, as if to himself, fucking the cum into you with slow rolls of his hips. His grip on your body loosened after a few moments, a sheen of sweat glazing his forehead as he leaned back, letting you slide away from his iron tight grasp. The tip of his cock dripped in slow stringing beads, falling to the cold street; He looked smug, chest swelling and falling with every breath, eyes glued to you. Soldier boy bent at the knee, leaning down towards you for his fingers to glide over your cunt. He shuddered lustfully, sliding over the mix of your arousal and his cum. 

"Deals a deal."

You had hardly even begun.

[dat-lil-shark]

Transformer One Review

I would say the movie in general is pretty mid, to be honest. It’s clichéd, it’s rushed, it's everything we’ve seen before. Even my sister who had no knowledge of the franchise and whom I dragged into this guessed that Sentinel is evil right away.

But once thing I loved the movie so much is how Orion was written. And this is the most important thing there is to this movie. Even before watching the movie I knew he would be flawed and stupid, but I never expected he would be THIS flawed and THIS stupid.

He was SO STUPID there are even times he even feels morally ambiguous! Like he dragged all his friends into dangerous situations, without their consents, for no reasons other than just wanna feel good and feel cool. Even when he saved Jazz I was feeling like he didn’t save him because it’s the right thing to do and Jazz has a life too, but it’s more of a “Wow it would be so cool if I save him and come back alive!” Kind of situations. And he didn’t even apologize when others even first pointed it out and tried to convince them to feel the same way he does.

And his immaturity payed a big price. Disasters happened, so many almost and probably did got killed, and no one, not his friends, not plot armours, NO ONE defended him when things goes wrong because of him. He made grave mistakes and the world punished him for it, so he will learn. And I cannot imagine how bold were the screenwriters when they made the creative choice to make Orion this flawed. He was so stupid it was beautiful.

And not only was the film not afraid of making him flawed, it also wasn’t afraid of making him vulnerable.

For a large part of the film, I feel like Orion wasn’t even trying his best to persuade D-16 to not change, probably largely because he just can’t emotionally comprehend how someone like his best friend could possibly change so myth, until it went to the point of no return. And maybe if he was strong and wise enough to do the best he can, like giving D more attentions, trying to cheer him up and remembering the good thing in life. Best case scenario: D-16 would never go the length he would. And worst case: he would still at least try to leave his friends out of things. But no, Orion was visibly procrastinating on taking care of his friend cause he just don’t know how to, and possibly even want to, just to not face the truth. And I know he will make the 🥺 face eventually when D turned evil, but I did not expect Orion to spend almost half of the film to just staring at D with them big ol’ eyes and doing nothing but hope things are not going the way he thought they were going. Seriously though 70% of the later part of the film he looked like he was one step away from just bursting into tears.

However, these are not big surprises, the BIGGEST surprise the film gave me was at the end, when Orion finally became Optimus, and he defeated D. He. Still. Looked. Just. So. Sad.

He didn’t instantly become strong, at least emotionally.

He was still full of 🥺 and hesitations.

It was almost like, even AFTER he became Optimus, he was still naive enough to be somewhat hoping D-16 was not really doing what he knew he was doing, but finally accepted reality when he banished D and the Decepticons.

And.

I.

FUCKING.

Love this!

Essencially, the movie DID NOT make Orion just Optimus, but younger and more naive. Instead they made OPTIMUS just ORION, but knowing how life is not all sunshine and rainbow now. And the way they left the movie with Orion still VERY different from the expressionless, badass, and untouchable Optimus we know, instead still FULL OF sorrows and FULL OF Orion, not only leaves space for more movies in this new prologue-oriented franchise, with more character arcs for Orion, but they also shows how maturing doesn’t just happen overnight.

Orion learned how life is not all sunshine and rainbows, and he would not stop learning it for millions of years to come. There will be a day where Orion/Optimus would be hurt so much that he can no longer cry or smile anymore. But for today, he still can.

[lovelybucky1]

Insignificant

kinktober day 14- bondage

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT- non con, AFAB!Reader, handcuffs, vaginal reader, finger sucking, rough treatment, 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Anakin Skywalker was no longer the man you knew. He was a great warrior, a general, an upstanding person, a kind soul, a Jedi, and most importantly, a friend. He was never meant to be a mechanical killing machine for Darth Sidious to lead around on a leash.

You managed to escape the violence of Order 66, though not without sustaining injuries of your own. For months after the massacre you saw visions of Anakin with orange glowing eyes in your dreams. The screams of children could be heard in the background. You were haunted.

You know some of the other Jedi escaped, though you don't know who or where they went. Being a Jedi is a death sentence these days, so it's better to lay low and not know anything more than absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately, laying low on an outer rim planet where you live off the grid on your own little farm isn't low enough for the Empire. You returned from the forest with a basket of berries and mushrooms to add to your stockpile when you found your house burning, your animals slaughtered, and Darth Vader himself standing among the flames.

After seeing the brutal events of Order 66, you took not being killed on sight as a blessing. The stormtroopers surrounded you, grabbing your arms and forcing you to your knees before Vader. The dark mask was expressionless, but the tilt of his head to the side made you feel like a wounded animal he was about to put down.

"Take them to the ship," he said in a modulated voice. He sounded nothing like the man you knew.

You were hauled aboard the massive ship that they carelessly landed in a field of wild flowers. It was almost poetic how this hunk of machine destroyed something natural and beautiful.

Once the hatch of the ship closed, you accepted that your fate was sealed. You were brought to a cell in the bowels of the ship and abandoned, left with your own thoughts and restricted by force-blocking cuffs.

You were alone for hours until someone came by. You heard the sound of heavy boots banging against the metal grate floor, but it wasn't until you heard the heavy breathing that you turned your attention towards the intruder.

"Jedi," he says as a form of greeting.

You glare at him through the bars of your cell. "Vader."

He says nothing more. He only stands there, emotionless and unmoving. Anakin must have learned patience through his transformation, because the man you knew hated silence.

"Why am I still alive?" you ask. You'd rather be dead than be taken prisoner and be forced to work for the Empire. "You killed all the others. Why not me?"

"He wants you," Vader says crypticly.

"Who does?" you ask.

"Your friend," he says.

Anakin. He's in there somewhere, obviously, and he wants to save you. Maybe this is his way of making up for his atrocities, by making right with you. It could never be enough, but it comforts you to know the monster before you isn't entirely evil.

The door to your cell slides open and Vader steps in, looking like a giant as he towers over your slumped form on the floor. You look up at him but you can't get a read on him. The cuffs block any force sensitivity so you can't even feel him. The door shuts behind him, trapping you in a small box with the face of evil.

"He cares for you," Vader says. "He wants to protect you." It warms your heart in a weird way to hear him say that. "But you are insignificant to me."

Vader reaches down and grabs you by the roots of your hair. He tugs harshly until your scrambling to find your footing and stand so he doesn't rip out your hair.

He dwarfs you. You never noticed how large he was until you were face to face, mere inches apart.

Vader pushes you back roughly, sending you slamming into the wall. Your body crushes your arms that are bound behind your back and you whimper in pain.

"He will watch me destroy you," Vader says as he advances, crowding you against the wall.

He brings his hand down to the waistband of your pants and tugs, effortlessly ripping them off. Your underwear receive the same treatment, though the pull on your skin is painful.

He kicks your legs apart with his boots. The heavy, hard material on your exposed ankles hurts like a bitch, but there's nothing you can do about it other than scream.

Vader shoves his gloved hand between your thighs and carelessly invades your cunt with his thick fingers. You cry out in pain, beg him to stop and for someone to help, but you know it's useless. Everyone here does Vader's bidding, and disobeying their lord is an instant death sentence.

He grows tired of your crying, so he shuts you up by restricting your throat with the force. You have enough air to breathe, but not enough to speak.

You look into the blank helmet with teary eyes, hoping that somehow you can connect with Anakin. You know he's in there, you just have to bring him out.

Vader's fingers split you open painfully. You don't know what he has underneath the suit, but you fear that it will be even worse than the treatment being done to you now. When he pulls his hand away, your creamy juices coat the black glove.

He grabs your jaw and squeezes hard, forcing you to open your mouth. He shoves the wet fingers inside for you to clean, tasting yourself off of them. It's disgusting and degrading, but you're helpless to resist.

When he pulls his fingers out, his glove glistens with your spit. A string of it connects your lip to his glove and when it breaks, it falls against your chin.

Vader drops his hand and you're left staring up at him. The panel of his chest presses against yours uncomfortably, digging into you. You're legs are shaking, not from pleasure but from a mix of fear and the ache in your pussy.

Vader then grabs you by the shoulder and pushes you down, sending you sprawling onto the metal floor. He turns his back to you and the door opens again. Wordlessly, he leaves you alone once again, his heavy boots echoing down the corridor.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Tartaglia/Childe - "The Sword in One's Pants"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which number eleven of the Fatui Harbingers somehow doesn't grasp his comrade's sexual innuendos. Or; In which Tartaglia is very clueless and very prepared to impale people at any given time.

Warnings -> Suggestive

                                                                                                   

🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳

"Tartaglia..."

You called out to your attractive ginger-headed fellow harbinger.

"Yes?"

Tartaglia says, turning to you quickly from the wall of weapons in front of him as the two swords strapped to his waist and back jostle with the movement; the cowlick atop his head comically standing at attention as he curiously tilts his head.

"Put your sword in me."

You told him bluntly; face remaining expressionless despite the words that had just left your mouth.

The ginger blinked a couple of times as a brief moment of silence passed the both of you. He gives you a somewhat confused but excited smile. Did you finally want to take his offer to fight to the death? Finally! It sure took you long enough.

"Are you sure, Comrade?"

He asked earnestly as he rested a large, calloused hand on his hip; the other gripping the handle of yet another sword.

"Yes."

You quickly but firmly assure him; standing in your usual confident, unwavering posture to convince him of your words.

The harbinger stares at you for a good long while with slightly narrowed eyes and his signature ever-present smile. He can't help but look at you in a slightly judgemental way; you want to battle yet you look so... relaxed? Perhaps you're underestimating him.... Bah! It doesn't matter; you finally propositioned him for a duel!

".....Alright then!"

The ginger cheers after a bit of staring and raises the sword already occupying his hand into a combat position.

But when he goes to attack you...

"Not that one."

You quickly correct him; arms coming up to cross on top of your chest.

He stops to process your words for a moment; slowly blinking before his face takes on a look of light confusion. Though you can see a tiny bit of annoyance mixed in there. He seems to shrug it off pretty quickly though; the smile on his lips straightens itself out.

"Okay..."

He huffs a bit and sets the sword he is holding aside before reaching for the one on his back.

"No Tartaglia, the one in your pants."

You spoke again; stopping his hand just a few inches away from the handle.

The ocean eyed man raises a brow at you before looking down at his waist; muttering a quiet 'in my pants?'. He then remembers the sword strapped to his waist.

"Oh! The new one? I get it."

He cheers; quickly drawing it before you had the chance to interrupt him.

But when Tartaglia looked up at you again, he was met with your very exasperated expression. You bring up your hand to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger as you let off a frustrated huff.

"Archons help me— No, the other sword."

You insisted once again; gesturing to his crotch with your free hand.

He looked at you with a face cross between confused and annoyed. Did you even want to fight him in the first place?

"But I'm already—"

The harbinger began; raising his sword in confusion before you cut him off.

"Your dick, Tartaglia! I'm talking about your penis."

You half shouted in annoyance; running a hand down your face from the ridiculousness of the situation.

Tartaglia stares at you for the umpteenth time that evening before swiftly bringing up his free hand and smacking himself lightly on the forehead. That's what you meant? Actually... you did say 'in his pants and not attached or strapped to' That makes a lot more sense now.

"Oh! ....You should've said so earlier, Comrade."

The ginger head chuckles and softly shakes his head at the misunderstanding as he slides his sword back into its sheath on his waist.

Then suddenly his eyes darkened as he closed the distance between the two of you; a mischievous smirk crawling its way across his lips. Tartaglia drapes an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. You spot the already present pink on his cheeks from the Schneznayan weather growing to a deeper strawberry red as he licks his lips.

"I can certainly put that one in you."

He purrs; wet lips brushing against your ear.

🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳•♡•🐳

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

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