#bash x oc

[seraphicloves]

𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒌𝒂, 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉

⊱✿⊰ summary: you have a dramatic reaction to seeing idia for the first time. other housewardens are not pleased.

⊱✿⊰ warnings: reader is immediately attracted to idia, vil is jealous reader doesn't like him like that, idk chaos?? probably short tbh, light crowley bashing

⊱✿⊰ notes: first fic in like six months lolll, yeah 🤪 im that sigma sauce!! i do have requests open so if you want something written let me know @chiikawagirll ur welcome

you didn't expect anything interesting to happen when you got to the house warden's meeting. having been in the twisted wonderland world, you still didn't feel entirely used to everything but at the very least you had a routine down. was it slightly troubling that you had been stuck in a strange world long enough to establish a routine? yes, but there was no time to worry about that when you had duties to complete.

grim was still sleeping soundly in his bed back at ramshackle, so unfortunately you had no company when tackling the problems faced when dealing with upperclassmen. you took your seat in the room, noticing that riddle was already there - unsurprisingly. you arrived early as well, not wanting to get on the bad side of crowley so early in the morning.

it didn't take long for the room to be filled with the other housewardens as the headmaster of night raven college didn't like to linger for anything in general. he was not a busy man, but he certainly acted as if he was always in a rush. you wondered if he was just trying to creep closer to the vacation, he never seemed truly deserving of.

curiously, you did notice the lack of the tablet in the room. usually, ortho would place the tablet in the room an hour prior to the meeting so his older brother would be able to attend successfully from his room. it was none of your business but you did find it out of the ordinary. and your survival in this world was built on learning what is unusual.

"alright everyone, let's try to keep this quick." crowley said, not even being aware that idia had yet to make an appearance. he probably wasn't even looking at any of the housewardens beneath his mask, he was entirely apathetic to everyone here. he stepped away, lingering in the shadows like a monster waiting for the chance to attack.

almost like clockwork, riddle sprung up - ready to come up with whatever problems he was having with his dorm. or whatever problems he was having with people outside his dorm. riddle was an interesting boy, outspoken and always looking for intense amounts of improvement for everyone. he was the definition of perfectionist.

you attempted to listen to riddle drone on about the various rules in the heartslaybul textbook but your mind was drifting quickly. it was more interesting when leona was arguing with vil but currently they were not too bothered.

attempting to supress a yawn, you turned your attention to the sudden commotion in the room. at the door was a tall pale boy, with sharp features and dark eyes. his most noticeable feature was the long hair flowing behind him in a bright blue shade.

your heart surely stopped beating as you realized you were face to face with idia shroude for the very first time. he was....attractive. like really fucking attractive.

before you would process what was leaving your lips, you kept your eyes glued on him, as you said much louder than needed, "boom shakalaka!"

one issue you had run in with in the twisted wonderland world was the fact they didn't have the same internet culture you did back home. so none of them would understand what you meant in this situation.

everyone turned their attention to you, while idiea stared with a mix of uncertainty and confusion. which was understandable, since you practically shouted at him all while having heart eyes for him.

"and what might that mean, potato?" vil asked, arching his perfectly groomed eyebrow. you felt yourself warm at the spotlight being on you, and even more so the fact you'll need to explain you think idia is fine.

"in my world, it's" you paused and looked away with slight shyness, "well, it's a saying when you see somebody really attractive."

"you chose that emo to be attracted to?" leona butt in, scoffing in almost disbelief. you rolled your eyes, not letting that furry lion judge you for your taste in men.

"for once, i agree with leona." vil said, crossing his arms across his chest somehow in an elegant way, "idia is not the usual choice. after all, you did not say 'boom shakalaka' when you saw me. and i am an actor known for my beauty."

you shrugged and peeked a glance at idia, who was gaping at you with horror written all over his expression. his once blue hair was now a red flame of embarrassment.

"i have a type, i guess." you shrugged, ready to leave the meeting right then, "i think idia is a hot guy. it's not that big of a deal."

vil pouted a little, seeming almost offended you didn't say the same about him. however, thankfully, riddle started shouting about the conversation being derailed. then he scolded idia for showing up late to the meeting.

"my tablet wasn't working," idia mumbled, keeping his gaze to the ground, "i would rather be in my room than here."

you spared one last glance at idia, realizing with a sad weight that he would be so scared of you now. your thoughts were confirmed when idia locked eyes with you for a second and blushed.

instead of being defeated, you just decided it would take a bit longer to befriend idia. sure, he's scared now but eventually he'll warm up to you! at least you hope he will...

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[sillyteecup]

A Lethal Shot Of Passion

Terry Richmond x black!o.c

Warnings:

18+

Swearing/Cursing

Minor injuries

Alcohol consumption

Innocent character held at gunpoint

Smut

Unprotected sex (please bazalwane, one condom one round)

Gunplay (minor) (logic does not live here besties)

Breath play

Degradation

Impact play

Edging

Orgasm denial

These people just might hate each other

Technically stalking ig

Word count: 5468🧍🏾‍♀️

A.N: so, here's my very late submission for the Terry Birthday bas by @megamindsecretlair . Also, introducing the Milaverse where I will be writing a bunch of oneshots, all in different universes with there only being 3 constants: Mila, Terry, and smut. I really wanted to do a fluffy one this time around but I couldn't get this out of my head, so the next one will hopefully be some cutesy stuff. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this, and thanks for reading and engaging. (also, let me know if you wanna be on the taglist for all Milaverse fics)

~Tee❤️

Ah yes, Sundays.

Good food, a glass of wine, good music, maybe a good trip, but most importantly, good old peace and quiet. Relaxation aside, Sundays meant no work calls for Mila, which meant no dealing with her annoying Team Leader, Terry. In another life, this would have been enough for her to believe in God.

Having finished what was supposed to be a weekend-long mission in Singapore in a mere day, Mila had taken her early clock out as a vacation opportunity. And so there she was, in Phuket with her locs in a ponytail, and a clay face mask, wearing nothing but her older brother's old Outkast t-shirt and a pair of white crocs, lounging before a lush mountain view enjoying her third glass of Shiraz. A knock sounded at the front door of the villa, making her groan. The knock was soon followed by the familiar voice of one of the housekeeping ladies announcing herself. Mila pressed her lips together in mild annoyance as this was the second time she'd have to exist in the company of the older and mouthy lady, completely killing the peace she enjoyed in solitude.

“Coming!” she called as she ruefully placed the glass of wine on the table in front of her.

In 5 long, impatient strides, she reached the door and opened it to a view that irritated her to no end.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, glaring at the disruption standing before her.

“Oh, room servi-” Mrs Suwan began to respond before being cut off by Mila.

“I'm sorry Mrs Suwan but I'm actually talking to the big headed oaf behind you,” Mila said, eyes narrowing at the 6’1, now green eyed, honey skinned, undying pain in her ass behind the much shorter and somewhat terrified looking Thai woman.

Terry's lips quirked into what one would swear was a smile, but to Mila was a nasty sneer. “Now Mila, that's no way to talk to your husband who's trying to surprise you,” he spoke cooly, baffling Mila. She noticed Mrs Suwan wince slightly as her body jerked suddenly.

Which meant-

“Especially after everything I went through to make it happen,” he added, now through gritted teeth, confirming her suspicion. Terry was angry, and angry Terry was someone nobody dared to knowingly tango with. Even more so when he had a weapon in his hand. So Mila played along, hoping he would release the older woman between them if she let him in.

“Mila,” Terry said, snatching her out of her head and right back into the real world. The real world where he glared at her expectantly while still maintaining that strained grin.

She swallowed her pride and wore an expression that rivaled his. “I'm sorry sweetheart, I just wasn't expecting you. Come on in,” she bit out as sweetly as she humanly could.

Although the intense staring contest with Terry continued, Mila caught a glimpse of Mrs Suwan’s posture relaxing in her peripheral, as the quiet click of a gun being put on safety sounded behind her. “Thank you, Mrs Suwan. I'll be leaving a generous tip for your services,” he said, not once letting his smoldering glare at Mila falter.

Suwan nodded and scurried away, likely about to cry or throw up from trauma. Although sympathetic, Mila paid her no mind, only focusing on Terry, whose smile instantaneously dropped the moment she left.

“She couldn't even see you smiling, you fucking idiot,” Mila hissed, making no move to let him into her temporary space.

"I was committing to the bit.”

“While holding her at gunpoint?”

“Nudge in the right direction.”

A beat passed in the middle of their back and forth as Mila took in his appearance properly. With a duffel bag slung over shoulder, he was dressed in a royal blue knit golfer that revealed his bulging muscular arms, and navy slacks that likely shaped that juicy ass she often stole glances at during training, at the gym and during post-mission se-

His face however, didn't sell the polished image too well. Aside from the likely cut that was hidden beneath the bandage on his eyebrow, the remnants of his last fight were glaring. A split lower lip, dark with dried blood, a cut healing along his tense jaw, and most obviously, the dark bruise forming below his left eye, all told her everything she needed to know about his weekend.

“You look like shit,” was all she said though, not sure if it was safe to ask why.

Terry's features scrunched up in momentary distaste at the comment, before he took another to scan her appearance, basically eye-fucking her with his cutting gaze.

“Well you don't look so fresh and so clean yourself 3-stacks,” he retorted cooly, his bluff making Mila roll her eyes.

“Whatever nigga,” was all she said before she stepped to the side to finally let him into the villa.

Terry stepped in but not without immediately dropping his back onto the one of the couches, slamming the door behind him and grabbing Mila's wrist to drag her into the kitchen. He cornered her against the counter where the rest of her ingredients lay abandoned. His nostrils flared subtly, as his usual even glare bore through her with a tinge of fury. His large hands were on her sides, gripping at the edge of the counter and caging her in should she attempt an escape.

“You've been annoyingly hard to find,” he stated, his tone low and dangerous, like him in the field.

“It's almost like that's my literal job description,” Mila bit out sarcastically, her fiery glare matching his to a T.

Terry's jaw shifted as he likely ground his teeth. Mila fought the urge to respond with a quip about how that was bad for his precious pearly whites that he cared about so much. But she had already committed to being passively rebellious and she figured he was in no mood to hear a joke about his appearance. Especially considering his current state.

“Last I checked, ghosting your Team Leader wasn't in your contract,” Terry scoffed, his burning gaze setting her skin ablaze.

“Neither is having said Team Leader barge into my personal space on a Sunday, yet here you are,” Mila snarked, getting increasingly impatient.

Terry let out a sardonic chuckle, before firmly grabbing her chin. “Mila, I am not in the best mood right now, so I advise that for your own sake, you watch your fucking tone,” he snarled, venom dripping from his deep baritone.

Ignoring the shiver his tone sent down her spine, she tilted her head up even further, her eyes blazing with defiance. “Or what? You stick a gun against my forehead till you get your way? Nah, you're too much of a bitch to do that to your equals. I know, you're gonna pull out the usual! Bend me over and fuck me silly till I catch an attitude again? Huh Bitchmond? You gonna-” her tirade was promptly cut off by the hand that previously held her chin, now firmly gripping her throat, almost promising to tear it out. An additional surprise was the cold barrel of a gun pressing her chin.

“How ‘bout I do you one better? How ‘bout I shut that big ass mouth of yours and make you gag and slobber all over this here glock. And then when you've got it all nice and wet for me, I'll use it fuck that pretty little cunt of yours till the only thing you can remember is that I am your fucking superior,” he muttered darkly, every last ounce of restraint turning to dust.

Tears pricked through Mila’s eyes as with every word he cut off more and more air from her lungs. This made her pooling arousal all the more disgraceful to an unfamiliar spectator. However this was what Mila decided she wanted the moment she invited him in. No one, except Mila dared to knowingly Tango with an angry Terry, because to her, angry Terry meant sweet, twisted release that nobody else could grant her. Only she knew which buttons to push and how. Only she could rile him up and get exactly what she wanted from his rage.

Still, she mentally cursed herself when she noticed how her lack of underwear caught his attention, like a wolf catching the scent of prey. His hazel irises darkened even more than what Mila thought was possible, as a dark sneer spread across his face.

“Of course you like that shit. You. Filthy. Little. Whore,” he snickered mockingly, punctuating every word with a taunting tap to the cheek with the gun.

“Safe word?” he demanded, loosening his grip on her neck but not completely removing his hand.

“Moonstone,” Mila choked, struggling to speak between the breaths she was trying to catch up on.

“Who?”

“Sir.”

And with that confirmation of consent, the show was back on as Terry grinned slyly. He traced the butt of the gun along her left cheek, drawing lines and circles until he reached the corner of her lips. “Safety’s still on. Open up,” he commanded raspily.

Ever defiant, Mila parted her lips and spat out a defiant, “fuck you.” Terry's grin morphed into a malicious sneer as his grip around her throat tightened once again, snatching her right to breathe.

“Now I already told you that I ain't in the mood for no bullshit, so open that fucking mouth or God help Me I'm going to rip your fucking jaw in half with my bare fucking hands,” he seethed, fury laced in his still low tone.

A spark of rebellion passed through Mila's eyes as she spat in his face. Anything to get him to completely snap and make their little game go faster.

Children, this is a cautionary tale to be careful what you wish for.

His eyes went cold, and the rest of his features emotionless. He removed his hand from her skin and took a step back to retrieve a handkerchief from one of the pockets of his slacks. He wiped the substance from his face, his features not moving an inch from their stoic state. He then balled the now wet material up and marched back up to Mila whose triumphant smirk fell into a fearful grimace as she tried to book it for the room upstairs. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough, as signified by Terry's iron grip on her ponytail yanking her back against him.

“You know that was fucking stupid right?” he demanded, voice ragged from his labored breaths.

Understanding that she had flown too close to the sun, Mila internally surrendered. “Yes sir,” she whimpered in a mix of fear and pain from the sting of her thoughts being snatched out of her scalp.

“And you know what comes next right?”

Mila sighed as realization set in. Nothing is ever worth a week of paralysis from the waist down, yet that was exactly what she had ordered. Lust made her irrational and now she was gonna pay the price. But what else was new?

“Yes sir.”

While parts of her legs ached from being pushed and practically dragged up the stairs of the villa, a disgusting sting of excitement burned all over Mila’s skin. Yes, she was fucked, but she was also about to be fucked: a win was a win. Even when Terry let go of her locs as he discarded her onto white covered, large double bed that took up most of the space in the room...until Terry stepped in of course, she couldn’t help but to rub her thighs together to quell the anticipation making itself known underneath the oversized t-shirt. Her Team Leader, for all his quirks on the more annoying side, was what she considered an amazing lay who never failed to shake her world up whenever it collided with his. And that was just on his more mildly frustrated, but relatively nonchalant days. Although she had never crossed this far into the inferno that was Terry’s notoriously violent rage, she had learned on a few occasions that once her little green-eyed monster’s nostrils flared, a time was about to be had, albeit at the cost of functional lower limbs.

You win some, you lose some.

She used all her might to fight the smirk that threatened to tug at her lips, but it was futile. By the way the flecks in Terry’s irises darkened blazed momentarily, she had lost dismally. He stood silently at the foot of the bed, the decade in Academi evident in his bone straight posture. In his hand, like an extension of the limb, was the tool that had aided his rampage, threatening as it gleamed against the dim glow of the lamps that illuminated the bedroom. Even with the remnants of his last fight, he still looked unreal. The soft, luscious pink lips, the glow of his honey skin, and those deep bright eyes whose natural state eluded her due to his guarded demeanor and ever changing moods, had maintained his otherworldly appearance; but the bruises and cuts that littered his godly face, came with the addition of something more rugged. His steely and borderline hateful glare melted with a drizzle of desire while he likely contemplated how to deal with Mila’s blatant disregard for his authority. Mila itched with the need to break the biting ice. She had even settled on a quip about how he looked even sexier when he was beat up, but Terry’s low and cold tone beat her to the punch. 

“You’re excited,” he noted, a hint of irritation inflecting in his tone. 

“I know what I’m in for. Sue me for reacting accordingly,” she retorted with a shrug, a miniscule prior semblance of submission having evaporated under the heat of his gaze. 

Terry let out a near silent but all the more sinister snicker as he shook his head and scratched his jaw. “You a smart little bitch aren’t ya? Aight then Einstein, that little toy you carry everywhere? In my hand. Now!” the command came out as a growl that Mila immediately obeyed. 

After a quick search through her suitcase and her second toiletry bag, Mila retrieved the hot pink and royal purple silicone toy and its accompanying lube, and immediately placed them both in his outstretched palm. Terry hummed approvingly at her obedience before speaking again: “I’m giving you 5 minutes to wash your face while I head downstairs and get something to drink. By the time I get back up here, I want you on this bed, naked, on your back and with your legs wide open for me,”  he instructed, leaving the two new additions to his arsenal on one of the complementary towels splayed across one of the corners of the bed.

And that’s exactly what she did. She rinsed her mask off then cleansed and scrubbed away at her face before moisturising. She tossed her t-shirt into the guest hamper in the bathroom and slid the crocs off her pedicured feet. She then assumed the given position, slowly lying back into the foam mattress covered in white sheets and duvets, and spreading her legs wide enough to give Terry a clear view of what awaited him.

The man of the hour returned to the room with his duffel around his shoulder, the bottle of Mila’s Shiraz, and a single glass. Mila watched, antsy as he dropped his bag near the bathroom door and set the wine and the glass on one of the nightstands. He then wordlessly moved to climb the bed, kneeling at the edge and reaching out to grab Mila by the backs of her thighs and yanking her towards him, eliciting a sharp squeal. A loud slap rang through the room, followed by a yelp. His calloused hands struck the outside of her thighs, one by one, one sharp smack after another. All Mila could muster were cries of pain and lust as the stinging on her thighs birthed an ugly baby named arousal. The suddenness of Terry’s attack sent her reeling and unable to think straight, which was ironic considering the fact that she was trained to maintain cognisance regardless of what was being thrown her way.

Unfortunately no amount of training can prepare you for the wrath of Terrence Richmond, fuck or foe.

“Just ‘cause ain’t a paddle, don’t mean you shouldn’t be counting,” Terry stated gruffly as he increased the pressure of each smack.

“I don’t know-” she cried out before being promptly cut off by a moan that tore from her own throat at an even harder crack.

“Then figure it out. Ain’t that what smart-mouthed whores like you do?” he asked, mockingly. “You better get that shit right too, ‘cause I don’t mind improvising and starting from the top to wear that ass out properly,” he promised with a malicious sneer.

Mila mentally clawed at her own brain, desperate to figure out what number they were on. Maybe in the first 5, she would have gotten to the answer immediately, but Terry had waited before reminding her, and worst of all he wasn’t even stopping. This light-skinned, grinch-eyed motherfucker had set her up for failure from the start and judging from the growing tent in his slacks, he was getting off on it. Except Mila would have had the chance to avoid the brick wall if she had just remembered to count from the start. And there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that he would keep his promise and get creative: painfully creative. But right as the thought crossed her mind, Terry’s assault came to an abrupt halt, leaving Mila’s thighs a smoking debris on the outside and a soaked mess on the inside. He was getting dangerously unpredictable.

“Hmm, I’m over here singing your praises, calling you a genius little slut, but you can’t even do something as simple as count? Disappointing,” he taunted with a scrutinizing glare. He sucked his teeth in as he leaned over to grab the vibrator from the towel, slowly moisturizing it with the lube next to it. 

Her teary brown eyes met his steely, focused silver ones as he harshly wrenched her legs apart. His features softened when he once again caught a whiff of her sweet, vanilla-peach scent, eyes closing as the pads of his fingers danced lightly on her skin while he basked in it with a slow inhale. Mila bit back a smile at what was to come. Her pussy may have just thrown Terry off whatever treacherous course he had intended for her…or he had just cut her punishment short and was about to fuck her anyway. Either way, what bliss. Terry’s expression however turned back to stone as he had freed himself from the momentary trance. Mila held space though, hoping that despite whatever he had planned, she would still get her fill.

“You’ve gotten too damn comfortable with me Mila. I knew that little attitude of yours would be a problem the moment you were assigned to me, but I thought I could fix it. I tried tougher drills, I tried harder warm-ups, and you just got worse. So I got alternative, I tried being nice, and unfortunately all that did was make me care about you beyond your safety on the field,” he vented, still keeping his tone low and menacing. Mila recalled how he had been a nuclear asshole when she had first joined his team. He had already been a bit of a standoffish prick by the time she arrived, but her defiance against his tone and unreasonable drills sent him over the edge. 

So Mila pushed even further. Terry then reverted-actually became more tolerable than when she had met him. Sure, his tone still had a bite to it when he spoke to her, but he was more considerate and more respectful. Never nice though. Which is why she had been surprised when he told her that she was slowly becoming his weakness and that he was finding it harder and harder to pull away from her. And despite their past spats, Mila was forced to confront her desire for him and her enjoyment of their incessant push-and-pull. That was how they built what she called their “healthily toxic love affair”. Without the love of course, because to Terry, outside of his concern for her safety, it was still about keeping her under control.

“Then you let me take creative liberty when you let me fuck it out of you. I thought giving you wanted would quell that agitating fire in you, but I was wrong. So fucking wrong, because now you’re disappearing on me, ignoring warnings, calling me out my name. Spitting in my gotdamn face,” he gritted through his teeth, fingers still tracing light circles, effectively igniting another flame on her inner thighs.

Mila tucked her lip between her teeth, keeping a snarky retort down her throat because the universe knows that Terry’s fury would likely tear through it and her if she said what was on her mind.

“I can’t keep giving you everything if you can’t give me the one thing I expect of you. Come on Einstein, tell me what that is,” he said with an expectant glare.

“Respect,” Mila replied softly, earning another sharp smack, this time to her inner thigh at the incomplete answer. “Respect sir, ‘m sorry,” she whimpered.

“Trust me Mila, unless you tap out and say your safeword, you will be,” he expressed, his dark promise coated in sincerity. 

“I don’t wanna say it sir.”

“Mmmh.” 

She watched intently as he turned the vibrator on, the low hum growing with every increasing setting. Her eyes widened as he inserted the toy in her sopping cunt, immediately sending unearthly shockwaves through her body. The unholiest of potential noise complaints spilled from her lips as the vibrator worked at her clit and g-spot at once. The overwhelming sensations dulled her mind, weakening her resolve than any of the drills Terry had ever thrown at her. All she could see was the orgasmic light at the end of the tunnel, a light she ran towards until her path was blocked by an evil set of greens and her breathing being cut off. 

Fingers pinching at her nose and a heavy forearm pressing against her chest, his gaze burned through her skull as he spoke: “Nah, none of that. Orgasms are for respectful little whores. And you,” he paused to chuckle, “ain’t even halfway there.”

With that, he was off the bed, leaving Mila there to curl and writhe in the bed she had made. He bent over to rummage through his duffel before finally retrieving…a book. A fucking book. He grabbed the wine and glass from the night stand, stealing one last glance at Mila. “I’m not gon’ hold you though, this is a nice ass place,” he noted lightheartedly before retreating to the balcony, closing the sliding door behind him and getting comfortable in the hanging loveseat.

30 minutes.

That was the amount of time that Terry had left Mila to suffer for before making his return from his me-time. By then, Mila only existed between a deep seated regret for crossing someone as twisted as Terry Richmond, and an even deeper desperation for release. Although he was seated beside her, he had made no move to remove the torture machine from her pussy. All he did was watch indifferently as the toy repeatedly drilled the lesson into her while she writhed and squirmed about. Finally, he lulled her from her frenzied state, rolling her to her back and removing the vibrator. His touch felt cold against her raw skin, eliciting a pained groan. Her vision was blurred, but she could still see him smirking down at her in twisted satisfaction. 

She heard him tsk at the soaked toy before he redirected his attention to her. 

“Always gotta make shit harder than it has to be, huh? Now look at you,” he spat, still fairly vexed by her display earlier.

“‘M sorry sir. So sorry,” she managed to whimper through quivering lips. 

Terry only clicked his tongue before getting up and taking his belt off. He made a single loop, wrapping one end around his knuckles. Naively, Mila tried to crawl away, only to be manhandled onto Terry’s lap with her stomach against his muscular thighs. “You miss a number, I start again, understood?” he inquired sternly.

“Yes sir,” Mila replied with a desperate nod.

Smack! “One, sir!”

“You gon’ learn how to fucking talk to me Mila!”

Smack! “Two sir!”

“You gon’ learn to treat me with some fucking respect!”

Smack! “Three sir!”

“You gon’ learn that me and you ain’t equals!” 

Smack! “Four sir!”

“I am your superior in every sense of the fucking word!”

Smack! “Five sir!”

“I fucking own you!”

Smack! Six sir!”

“Say it,” he growled, arching her back as he held her up with a first in the now loose ponytail.

“You own me sir,” she whimpered, earning another stinging crack of leather to her bare ass.

“Ah-seven sir!”

“And?”

“We’re not equa-” Smack! “Gyahhh! Ei-eight sir!”

“Again,” he commanded.

“We’re not equals!” 

“Because?”

“Because you own me sir!”

With two final cracks of his belt to the pricking skin on her ass, Terry rolled her body off his lap, ragdolling her onto her back. He wasted no time discarding his shirt before taking his dress shoes off. His dick had all but strained against the material of his slacks from snuffing out the brat in Mila and he was ready for his more personal dues. He made quick work of his pants along with his boxers, long and girthy glory springing free for play time. Roughly grabbing her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, he lined himself up at her entrance. Her body jerked as he rammed his way into her now flooded cunt, filling her like a piece of herself that had been missing. The feeling of him bottoming out felt like she was being completed.

Mercilessly, he rammed in out of her, the sound of his pelvis slapping against her ass akin to the clap of thunder. Moans, cries, and screams of pleasure and praise slowly ate away at Mila’s voice. Her throat had begun to dry and fizzle from the way she exerted her vocal chords. The next person to hear her would think she had been at a Beyonce concert. Until they saw her body of course. Terry made her skin a foster home for his mouth, kissing, sucking and biting at whatever he could taste like a starved bear. 

“Whose fucking pussy is this?” he rasped as he fucked her mind into nothing.

“It’s yours sir! All yours,” Mila screamed, unable to contain the fire Terry's unforgiving thrusts into her.

Bright green eyes darkened with lust bore into her soul, the erotic stare making Mila even wetter. The familiar knock of impending release began knocking for Mila to open up, and she had no issue reaching for the handle after turning it away for so long. However she hadn’t accounted for Terry reading her like a novel he had finished 4 times over. Suddenly his hand was wrapped around her throat, squeezing like she were a foe.

“You thought this shit was for you wasn’t it? Nah baby, I’m just trying to catch a nut before my nap,” he growled tauntingly, a damn near demonic smirk splayed across his features. 

“Don’t get it twisted Mila. The only reason I cut shit so short is jet lag. You ain’t earned shit yet,” he chuckled menacingly, feeling spurred on by the tears in Mila’s eyes making their umpteenth appearance that afternoon.

“Bu-but…I said…I said I…’m sorry,” Mila whimpered helplessly.

“I’m sure you are. But I need that shit to stick. Need you to remember what happens when you boutta forget who the fuck you talking to. Need you to remember the consequences for taking my kindness for granted,” he said, finally about to chase his own high.

All he granted Mila was a warning before he came inside her with a guttural groan. As he caught his breath, Mila held onto a hope that maybe by some miracle, Terry was joking. Unfortunately her hope was snatched away with the feeling of him inside of her when he pulled out. Her heart dropped as he grabbed his duffel from the hardwood floor and made his way into the bathroom. With the pent up tension eating at her, she couldn’t even console herself with the view of his retreating ass. The sound of water rushing into the bathtub reached her ears, deepening her disappointed frown. But it wasn’t long before he had come back out though, once again fueling a spark of optimism in her heart, until he gently scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the en suite bathroom. As the water began to fill the large tub, Terry gently placed her body inside before retreating into the shower a mere step away.

Unsurprising considering his chronic fear of non-sexual intimacy.

Mila sighed in contempt as she slid further into the tub. The hot water soothed most of her body while stinging at her ass. If she hadn’t survived worse, she would probably be crying in pain. The water reached her neck, prompting her to close the faucet. She turned her head slightly to glance at the shower. The glass doors were blanketed in condensation, obscuring her view of the delectable looking cause of her ruining cleaning himself up. Then a mischievous thought crossed her mind.

If she couldn’t see Terry, then that meant he couldn’t see her.

So she slowly inched her hand down her abdomen, touching herself until finally her fingertips ghosted over her clit-

“Don’t even think about it!”

Mila was back in the living room, nose buried in one of Terry’s many books he always had on him, while the man in question napped upstairs. Gold Teeth by Blood Orange played softly in the background to drown out Terry’s slightly less soft snores from upstairs. Flicking to a new page, something fell onto her lap. Absent-mindedly picking up what she thought was a bookmark, Mila lifted it to hold it against the page Terry had marked. As the object lifted into her view, her eyebrow arched. The bookmark was Terry’s I.D. Her attention was immediately on the picture, displaying a slightly younger Terry with less frown lines and a mini-fro Mila wished he had kept. Even younger Terry wore the same stoic expression he was notorious for unless he was yelling. She snorted to herself before her eyes shifted to the words on the side.

Terrence James-yeah he seems like a James-Richmond

03/17/1992

Mila frowned at his birth date. She thought Terry was at least in his 40s with how uptight he was. She always chalked his appearance up to good genes and “black don’t crack”. Then there was the date formatting that never failed to irk her anytime one of her American peers or friends would show her their licenses or the time on their phones.

Oh, and there was the fact that today was March 17th.

“Kganti le Terrence wa birthday’a? I never expeded it,” she joked to herself right as the card was snatched from her hand.

She craned her neck up slightly to find Terry’s tired, unamused stare trained on her. She grinned innocently, not sure how he’d react to her little quip since he had clearly heard it. To be fair, he didn’t really move like the laws of humanity applied to him.

“You know contrary to popular belief, I’m actually a regular person,” he snarked, turning Mila’s grin into a smirk that said, “really? You?” 

He simply clicked his tongue before snatching his book too and making his way to sit on the opposite end of the couch. Not letting him enjoy his peace since he had taken hers away, she moved closer to him, nearly close enough for their arms to touch. The point was to annoy him, not violate his boundaries. Still, she poked him in the side, earning a mildly annoyed glare. For someone who had probably flown across the world to find her, despite her ensuring she was impossible to track down, he sure had a funny way of expressing his desire to be around her. She didn’t mind it though. This was the closest to nice she would ever get out of Terry and if she was being real, she liked him like this. 

“Happy birthday Dumbo,” she said, taking a shot at his ears. He rolled her eyes, a ghost of a genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Whatever nigga.”

[notapradagurl7]

One More Taste.

Creepy!Black Fem! Reader x Dark!Terry Richmond.

Summary: You got it really bad for your fine-ass next-door neighbor and co-worker Terry Richmond, just an unhealthy obsession for him and it was his birthday, all you wanted was to make him yours. But will he be open to you? Turns out he was just as hooked as you were.

Warnings: dark themes, smut, praise, dirty talk, slight fluff, unhealthy obsession, creepy!reader, dark!Terry, fingering, scolding, choking kink, stalking, mention of trauma, mention of murder, possessiveness, toxic themes, jealousy, and slight breeding kink(if you squint), some pwp, all are consensual but read at your own risk, childhood trauma.

A/N: Here is a day late b-day fic for our man Terry, 😭 hope you enjoy my loves, ☺️ this one is kinda ominous, and a special thank you to @megamindsecretlair for this wonderful tag and event, don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open!🫡

WC: 3,265k.

Taglist: @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @dabratzchronicles

@becauseimswagman1

@pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @kaylaahisthebestest- @uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn

@secretlifeoofmarpessa

@mymindisneverhere @mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@5starr-staciii

@23jammy @zillasvilla @musicisme333

@chaoticcoffeequeen @soft-persephone @ruewritesoccasionally @xblackreader @artsninspo @teeresaresa @kumkaniudaku

————-

It all started with the boring-ass office meeting in the conference room where Terry was introduced to everyone including yourself, all it took was a simple glance from him to get you going, he was that little drug in your veins. And you need is another dose of him.

From the one-on-one projects your boss Maggie assigned both of you to work together to Terry sitting next to you in the break room for lunch, getting to know that fine man day by day gave life to your fantasies, as some would say delusions.

You've learned so much about Terry and kept them tucked in the back of your mind like a secret you've written in your diary. He let you in his life, due to your shared responsibilities at work.

Your daily conversations built a connection that felt unshakeable, like the spine of a well-loved book.

He was a former Marine, he had a cousin named Mike whom he had lost last year, you had your share of loss just like he did, the both of you had similar interests in rock music, adding fuel to your fire for him, as it burned everything in its path.

You only stalked the man once or twice in the park where he did his morning jogs, you could have asked to join him but you already worked out enough on your own. He almost caught you.

With Marine skills of his, he could've done something.

Hearing him chat with other women in the office made you cringe, you wanted to claw their eyes out with your nails once they laid a lustful eye on your man.

And you knew he loved his coffee black with one shot of cream. The way he carried himself, all brooding and mysterious, was enough to drive you wild. He was so tall and was so muscular, you wanted to devour him sexually.

There was undoubtedly something enigmatic about Terry that you wanted to uncover, but he kept his guard up, just as you did, shaped by the personal trauma you experienced at 16, a memory you tried to shake off and ignore.

However, after you resolve to take revenge on the individual who has wronged you so deeply, it's essential to let go of the pain that lingers in your heart.

You were determined to eliminate that uncle in your family, and your older brother Jarvis offered to assist with the endeavor, so he did. It seems you weren't the only one who had that same experience at 16.

After that fateful day, your older cousin Jarvis took swift action, hiding and disposing of the body. Together, you severed ties with your family, leaving the past behind as you relocated to that familiar yet quiet neighborhood. In time, you both found stable, rewarding jobs, convincing yourself that you were on the road to healing.

But today was different; it was Terry's birthday, and the weight of your memories had to be set aside.

Determined to celebrate, you decided to bake him a cake, pouring your affection into every batter mix and frosting swirl. You invited Terry over to your cozy little house next door, eager to share a joyful moment amid the shadows of your past.

You couldn't wait to show him how much he meant to you, that was a time when Terry decided to walk you home when your car broke down. He offered to drive you home because it was dangerous for you to be alone, that protectiveness you felt with him made you fully enamored.

But Terry didn't celebrate birthdays like that, but he appreciated those who thought of him.

You stood before your table with your eyes on the small cake, he preferred chocolate cake over vanilla. “It’s perfect,” you mumbled, smirking at the cake.

You placed a few candles on the table, and washed your hands clean. Once, you heard a knock on your door, you knew that it was Terry.

You hurried your way toward the front door, and swung it open revealing the 6-foot, man with his fawn light skin. His green-blue ish spoke to your dark brown ones, in a ways couldn't fathom. It was so easy to get lost in those eyes.

“Happy birthday Terry,” You sang playfully, stepping aside to let him in.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Terry replied back, stepping inside and you closed the door behind him.

“I baked you a cake, would you like a piece?” You asked kindly.

Terry raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You baked me a cake? You really went all out, huh? I'm flattered. But you know I’m not big on the whole birthday thing.”

You stepped closer, your heart racing. “I know, but I thought it would be nice. Just us, you know? To celebrate you...just a little?”

He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall in that effortlessly cool way that made you want to reach out and touch him, to feel that strength radiating from his body. “You’re sweet. Just don’t expect me to get all sappy about it.”

“Who said anything about sappy?” You laughed lightly, trying to mask the nervousness bubbling inside. “I just want you to try my cake. It’s chocolate. Your favorite, right?”

Terry’s eyes flickered with something—maybe curiosity, maybe amusement. “Chocolate, huh? You’ve been paying attention.”

“Of course,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I pay attention to everything about you, Terry. You’re...hard to ignore.”

He studied you for a moment, and you could see the gears turning in his mind. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got then.”

You led him over to the table, your heart pounding as you cut a generous slice of the cake and placed it on a plate. As you handed it to him, your fingers brushed against his, and a jolt of electricity coursed through you.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice low as he took a bite. His tongue gliding across those lips of his to get frosting, making your core throb. He made you all hot and bothered just like that?

“Y-You’re welcome, do you like it?”

Terry nodded in response before as his eyes widened slightly, and you held your breath, waiting for his reaction. “Damn, this is good as hell. Seriously.”

You beamed, your pride swelling. “I’m glad you like it. I made it just for you.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, the world faded away. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Yeah, I am, and I'm hoping that we can be more than friends, you know?” you replied, feeling bold. Fiddling with your string of yarn that you found to calm yourself down.

His expression hardened for a moment, and you felt the air grow heavy with unspoken words. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Try me, I’m not afraid of you, Terry. I want to know you. All of you.” you replied with a sinister tone, refusing to back down.

He set the empty plate down, his eyes darkening as he took a step closer, invading your personal space. “You really have no idea what you’re inviting into your life, do you?”

Your pulse quickened, the thrill of fear and desire mixing together in a heady cocktail. “Maybe I do. Maybe I’m willing to take the risk.”

“You think that I don't know about you? Stalking me in the park, I should’ve reported you to HR or handled it myself,” Terry confessed darkly, his hand behind his back with that wicked smile of his curling up.

Your smile fell into a frown, pursing your lips a bit as you had to turn off a light switch in your head, placing your hands on your sides. Your anxiety

There was no use to deny what you did, you were there being a creep toward the man. When you could've done the normal thing and asked him if you could jog with him, not give in to your obsession with him, your felt your walls crumbling down.

“I don't blame you if you do, it was inappropriate and weird. But I just feel like we are alike, you and I, the moment I saw you. I became obsessed with you Terry,” You admitted, a grin on your face.

Terry’s gaze intensified, awe and intrigue across his beautiful face, “Obsessed huh? What if I told you that I was obsessed with you too? Maybe it did turn me on that you saw me, and stalked me like that,” he said back, crossing his arms.

“What makes you think we are alike?”

“There’s something in both of us, we've both been through too much damn trauma, and we’re shaped by our pasts, Terry. I see it in you and it resonates with me,” You said softly, your tone shaky.

“I agree with you on that which means I'll be yours Y/N, I think you need your punishment after stalking me, I need to tame a little brat like you,” Terry replied back, his grin still on his face that sent a shiver done your spine.

His words rekindled the heat within you, causing your clit to pulse, yet you remained frozen as if on ice, your lips slightly parted but unable to speak.

"Can't speak now?” Terry asked, Tilting his head to the side like a villain with a masterplan from a cartoon.

“Safe word?” he asked again, grinning at you.

“Kiwi,” you spoke up, he kissed your forehead.

“Good girl,” he replied, stepping closer to you.

You gently sat on the couch with your legs spreading apart for him, as if he told you in the back of your mind. But you needed this, and he was finally yours, Terry followed you and unbuckled his belt but he stopped, you whined softly.

“Actually, you don't get this dick since you’ve been bad,” Terry scolded with a gentle tone, his hand wrapped around your neck. You shudder from his touch.

Did you have it this bad for him like that Usher song? Yes you did, you couldn't wait any longer. You moved his hand down below your dress, he slid it over your head, while he took his shirt. Blessing you with that body, his muscles tensed from your touch. You stifled a moan from a lip bite.

His physique reminded you that he could've been a Greek god in another life similar to mythology or perhaps a Pharaoh in ancient Egypt, calling for your hand in marriage.

“I'll be good, I promise. Touch me please, Terry,” you mewled softly, pouting your lip.

His fingers gradually slide inside your pussy, practically sucking his digits in quickly. You were fully enamored with the man before you, this very moment to be touched, fucked good. This surely will suffice for now, moaning wildly and your essence splattering all over.

You needed more than his fingers, Terry moaned raspingly from that wet warmth of you, you moaned wildly and rolled your hips to match the torturous pace. “Fuck..I don't believe you, but that pussy sure does..” Terry groaned with his eyes on you.

“Now, you can get this dick..” Terry commanded with a grin, grabbing your hips while your legs parted.

He pushed his dick inside, starting off with a rough yet face pace, you gasped sharply but cutting yourself off with a moan. “Fuck, that’s..too…good but fuck!” you hollered with pleasure, moving your hips with him. Fueling his fire for you but not brighter than yours.

His full lips enveloped your nipple as his other hand kneaded and squeezed the other one; “You think that you get away with what you did? Don't ever do that shit again baby,” Terry growled, thrusting passionately yet almost lovingly.

Your wetness splattering all over his dick and you let out a soft whimper when his nails grazed the stretch marks on your brown skin. "Damn, so fucking tight, you're that deprived?" Terry teased, licking your ear. In the mess on your couch, he picked you up in his arms, your arms encircling his neck. and draped your legs around his waist, similar to a piggyback ride, but with you facing him. The curve of your ass was smacked by his hand.

“T-Terryyy…i’m s-sorryy..” you whimpered softly in his ear, your nails marking his back. Letting anyone know that he was yours, finally yours. He loved the sight of you breaking apart under him, the wet squelching sounds filling the room like a clapping noise. "I'm yours, say you're mine," he groaned deeply, Moaning his name, Music to his ears, why didn't he confess you sooner?

His hands spread your legs wide apart for him, better than he imagined, damn near masturbated to, fantasies couldn't compare, those dreamy ocean eyes of his focus on your wet pussy making his dick disappear as he filled up completely, "I'm yours! Terry! shit! You're so big!" You screamed, laying your head on his shouder.

His hand gripped the back of your neck, forcing you to look in his eyes as he fucked you harder, your eyes closed shut in immense pleasure, was he trying to make sure you couldn't breathe or move? “So..fucking..sexy, there’s no way I can let you go, is it the same for you?” Terry panted heavily, peppering kisses along your neck.

Have you met your match? Fingers rubbed your clit in slow circles, and your moans grew louder, “Yes! Terry! I won't let you go!” Clearly, you can't, dripping sweat coated your bodies, and heat radiated from the closeness.

Tears blurred your vision, and your moans sounded like you were crying, his dacryphilia kicking in at the sight but his thrusts turned gradual and sloppy, “Cumminggg, it’s so good,” you moaned out, patting his back with your hand, panting raspingly. Letting him know that you were at your limit, he thought of cumming inside but he didn’t want to do that.

You screamed out from your essence spilling out onto his dick rather quickly, and he pulled out of you. His tip spurted out on your stomach, as he kept you in his arms lovingly before kissing you sloppily, “Mine,” he said proudly, he pulled away and carried you into the bathroom, deciding to do aftercare.

“You good?” Terry asked in concern, turning on the faucet and allowing the water to fill up the tub and adding your sweet-smelling foamy soap. He gently placed you in the tub, watching you nod.

“Nah, I’m tired as hell. Happy birthday Terry,” You chuckled softly, the warmth of the water enveloping you, contrasting the heat that still lingered from your earlier encounter. Terry settled beside the tub, watching you with a mixture of admiration and intensity.

There was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart race, igniting that familiar fire within.

“You know, this whole birthday surprise turned out to be better than I imagined, I didn't expect that,” he admitted, a playful smirk curling on his lips.

You leaned back, letting the bubbles rise around you like a soft cloud. “Well, I wanted to make it special for you. You deserve it.”

His expression softened, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a glimpse of vulnerability beneath his tough exterior. “It’s been a while since anyone went out of their way for me, I appreciate it more than you know,” he confessed, his tone sincere.

You reached out, your fingers grazing his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. “We both have our pasts, Terry. I can tell you know that. But I want to be with you.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. “You’re a lot more than I expected, Y/N. I can’t promise it’ll always be easy, but I’m willing to figure it out with you.”

You felt a rush of excitement at his words, a warmth blooming in your chest. “That’s all I ask.”

Terry leaned closer, resting his elbows on the edge of the tub as he studied your face. “You’re not afraid of anything, are you? The things that come with being with someone like me?”

You met his gaze, the seriousness of his question sinking in. “I’ve faced my own darkness, Terry. I’m not afraid of yours.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and you felt your heart flutter at the sight. “You really are something else, I should have went easy on because you’re sweet,” he said, his tone filled with admiration.

“I wouldn’t want you to,” you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes.

Terry chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back slightly, his expression turning playful. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Only for you,” you teased back, splashing water playfully in his direction. He laughed, he kissed your lips and you feel relief wash over you.

You reached for the soap, lathering it between your hands before offering it to him. Washing yourself clean, “Want to join me?”

Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you trying to fuck me again?”

“I do,” you replied coyly, biting your lip.

He chuckled, shaking his head but eventually relenting. “Alright, but we've got to go to bed,”

You grinned, your heart racing as he joined you in the tub, the warm water enveloping you both. As the bubbles surrounded you, he washed himself but then fingered you under the water. Making you cum again and again, Terry dried you off and himself. He dressed you in his tee shirt that smelled like his cologne, he slides some grey sweatpants he brought and boxers.

“Happy Birthday Terry,”

“Thank you, baby girl,”

After that, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, facing you and wrapped an arm around you protectively, this was surely a birthday that Terry wouldn’t forget. It was with you, he was yours.

—————

[henneseyhoe]

Have Your Cake | Drabble #2 💭

Paring: Terry Richmond x Reader

Warnings: Sexual Content, Sub!Terry

Oh nothing…Just thinking about Dom!reader using a pretty pink bow as a cockring for Terry, tying it with just the right about of tightness around his heavy dick and balls, grouping them together.

Precum would drool from the tip of him, sticking to your finger when you touched to test just how much there really was. He’d flinch, his birthday sash placed so cutely on his bare torso rustling against his skin and his muscular thighs tensing up as he bore down, preparing himself for what you were gonna do next.

He didn’t know if it was a slap that was to come, a kiss, a stroke, whatever. He was clueless and so hard that he almost didn’t want you to touch him at all, the first few seconds of contact being almost unbearable for him. Painful, even. A pain that he couldn’t even explain if asked.

You let go and watch his dick twitch as if it were dancing for you, the shaft hitting his stomach with a heavy tap before it stood tall like a ready soldier once more.

“I betchu just ready to bust.. Ain’t you, baby?”

You asked like the absolute bitch you were, knowing exactly what he was ready to do.

He nods and sucks air through his clenched teeth, desperately trying to hold himself off from cumming all over you. But, he couldn’t help it. He could just feel that heat climbing up his stomach with butterflies that had his head spinning.

“Baby, please-“

“Aht! I wanna watch it. Make that shit cum for me”

The way he squirmed in his seat, he was such a good boy that you didn’t even have to tie him down this time, giving him the freedom to move which he took liberty in by dragging his short nails up his thighs when the feeling got too intense, red stripes following after his fingers the longer he dragged.

His grunts could be heard all the way downstairs if anyone else was home. Now, white strings of his cum were lazily pouring out of his tip, and usually he was a shooter.

💌~Happy birthday, Terry 🤭<3

[crystallizsch]

💜: oops. i dont think this is where the christmas lights were supposed to go, vice housewarden ~

🐍: you had a single job, prefect. how you managed to get us this tangled is beyond me.

[damiansgoodgirll]

CAN THEY ADOPT ME PLEASE? I SWEAR I’LL BE GOOD

[the20thangel]

The Dragon and The Raven Chapter 8 (The Cursed Gift)

Chapter Summary: Aemma tries to explain the situation about Aegon and her to Benjicot. Benjicot feels betrayed and doesn't know how he should be feeling. Will Aemma lose her husband?

Tags: angst, illness, cw: talks of potential miscarriage.

taglist: @callsignwidow @whimsicalmystic02

word count: 3319

Keep track of the story: masterlist

A long beat resounded between Benjicot, looking at his wife, while Aemma glared at the cursed gift. 

After another short beat, Aemma turned to Benji with a pleading eye, “Ben, I-” 

“What does it mean, ‘You know my heart is yours as your eye mine,’ Aemma?” interrupted Benji, increasingly upset. 

Aemma breathed as she tried to reach her husband, who slowly backed away from her, “The ‘gift’ was from Aegon, who has a delusion that I’m in love with him, but-” 

“Why would the usurper ever think you love him?” Benjicot asked, looking at her, eyes storming. 

Aemma closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose, “When we were children, we made a stupid promise to marry each other, but it was a silly child game… it-” 

“It was real enough for him to send a blasted gift for OUR wedding, claiming that he loves you and you love him back!” shouted Benjicot angrily. 

Aemma's eyes widened in shock at his response, and she grew slightly upset. 

“It's his delusions. He is like a spoiled toddler who throws tantrums when he doesn’t get his way! I don’t love him; we were kids! Ben, you need to understand that!” exclaimed Aemma; she just wanted her husband to understand and let her explain the story calmly. 

Benjicot angrily shook his head and started walking towards the tent exit with Aemma following him, “Were you never going to tell me? Hoping that his delusions would just fade or that I am left unaware that a certain false king thinks he has a claim to MY wife?!” 

“No! I was going to tell you, but I was going to tell you after the wedding, but then the battle happened, and I didn’t think he was that crazy to send that stupid box!” Aemma explained as she tried to touch his shoulder, but Benji shoved it off. 

“I don’t know, Aemma. You told me our courtship shouldn’t start with lies, but here you start our marriage with one…” Turned Benji with tears streaming down his face. 

“I would never lie to you, Ben. I don’t love him. I don’t love any other man but you! You are my husband. I don’t want any other man but you!” Aemma started, her heart breaking into pieces, tears streaming down her face. 

Benjicot shook his head. “I don’t know; I just need time to think…. I think we should sleep in separate beds for the time being… I just need to not be with you,” he said as he walked out. 

“No! Ben… Benji… BENJICOT BLACKWOOD!” Shouted Aemma, gasping as she collapsed to the ground sobbing. 

Aemma sobbed for a few minutes before angrily turning to the cursed gift. She grabbed it with the note and threw it into the hearth of the tent. She despised Aegon; she wished Sliverwing had bitten off his head rather than his leg. All she wanted to do was be in her husband's arms, but now he wouldn’t even look at her. 

After cleaning herself up and checking that she didn’t look like she was sobbing, she had a few trusted handmaidens take a few of her things and the wedding gifts back to her tent. As she sat on her bed, Aemma stared at the fire. She couldn’t believe her marriage was going to estrangement barely a few days in… As she remembered her grandmother’s words, Aemma wondered if she should have just married for duty and not love.  For love, it hurts too much. Oh, how she wished this was a nightmare she could wake from. 

As Benjicot returned to his tent, he was muddy and sweaty. He scanned the room, and there was no sign of Aemma. He knew he had asked her to leave, but he hoped she would have disobeyed and stayed. But would he have stayed if she had? Would he have listened to her? He didn’t know; he sighed as he sat on his bed, placing his head in his hands. After a quick bath, he lay in bed, missing his wife’s warmth. 

Over the next few weeks, everyone started to notice something going on with the princess and lord, but when they were asked about it, Aemma responded that she was just tense from her grandmother’s injuries and the death of Meleys. Benjicot stated he just wanted to prepare his men for the next battle and needed to perform his mundane lordly duties. Jace and Baela were worried. Aemma was getting skinnier and had dark eye circles, but she always shook them off. 

As Rhaenyra prepared to return to Dragonstone with Jacaerys, Baela, Rhaenys, and Corlys, she worried for her daughter and good-son. She called on Aemma, and as she arrived, her daughter smiled at her, but Rhaenyra knew it was forced. 

“How are you doing, my sweet girl? I see you have been distant from your husband lately?” asked the queen. 

Aemma froze for a second. " We are doing fine, Muna . He is busy with his lordly duties, and I have been too worried about Grandmother… Kepa has also worried me, stating that we are at a considerable disadvantage now that we have lost Meleys.” 

Rhaenyra hummed but was still unsure. “Don’t worry. We discussed how we will look for … dragon seeds, those who have the blood of the dragon outside our family.” 

“I guess, but I just worry how loyal they will stay with us after they claim a dragon,” explained Aemma, hoping her mother would buy into her worries and not ask more questions.

“We would have to wait and see… but are you sure you are doing okay?” Rhaenyra asked, trying to see through her daughter's shell. 

Aemma bit her lip; she had been emotional these past few weeks but didn’t need to worry her mother. Her mother has a war to win against Aegon. 

Aemma gave her a small smile and decided to lie again: “I have just been having some nightmares lately. They… they are of grandmother dying …and of Luke.” Technically, Aemma was not lying to her mother. Even though she tried to sleep, she couldn’t. Those nightmares, along with others, made her afraid to sleep. She hated feeling helpless. 

Rhaenyra’s heart broke, “Oh, my pearl, have you told your husband? Maybe he-” 

“He knows, and he does his best… but I also don’t want to exhaust him… don’t worry, I am drinking some tea to help.” Aemma quickly lied, not wanting to talk about Benjicot; it was still too raw. 

Rhaenyra nodded but couldn’t help but think there was something else. She wouldn’t pry, though, knowing how much she hated in her youth to be constantly bothered to speak when you didn’t. 

Aemma said, “I will see you at this evening’s feast, Mother.” 

Rhaenyra smiled as she saw her daughter leave, feeling helpless. 

As Aemma walked towards her tent, she bumped into Aly. Who stated how much she missed her; Alysanne gasped at seeing Aemma’s appearance. She looked like a wilting flower. Aemma tried to ease Aly’s worries, and when she asked if Benji knew, she had to use all her might not to cry. Aemma tried to soothe Alysanne’s concerns as she excused herself, not seeing Alysanne tracking, watching her enter her tent and not into Benji’s. Aly's eyes creased with worry for her good-niece. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even though Aemma and Benjicot sat beside each other at the feast, they ignored each other. Aemma wanted to eat her meal quickly to excuse herself, but when she tried the Mutton, she wanted to gag. It tasted horrible to her, and the smell was overpowering. She glanced at the feast and saw everyone enjoying and joking around; no one seemed to mind the food like she did. Once another wave of nausea hit her, she told one of the maids to tell her mother she needed to be excused. She quietly stood and quickly walked out of the feast. 

Unbeknownst to her, Benjicot was staring as she left. He sighed and turned back to his food, not feeling the mood of the feast, when two lads jumped him from behind. Oscar and Kermit Tully had arrived and jostled him around, causing the lord to chuckle a bit. Oscar and Kermit began pestering him about his wedding and asking where his lovely princess was. 

Kermit jokingly stated, “With a princess that beautiful, he probably has her locked up so no other men can stare at her!” 

Causing Benjicot to grow cold, his hands tightening around his spoon. Oscar noticed his friend's mood and stated it was only a jest. Benjicot nodded before he stood tensely, walking out of the feast. Alysanne soon followed, but she took a different route, not wanting to let him know of her presence yet. When she passed the princess’s tent, she heard the sounds of throwing up, and the handmaidens asking the princess to call a healer. Aly, worried, rushed in and saw the princess on the floor throwing up in a bucket. Alysanne ran to the princess, telling the maid to get a healer as she helped Aemma. Aemma tried to push her away, but Aly would not budge. 

As the healer arrived, she began accessing the princess and asking her numerous questions. Aemma gave her symptoms and how she couldn’t sleep, worrying Aly more. Aly asked the healer if she knew what was causing this. 

The healer wondered, “When was your last moon blood, my princess?” 

Aemma and Aly gasped, Aemma feeling her heart drop as she remembered it was three weeks before her wedding. The Healer nodded and announced that the princess was expecting, but before Aly could rejoice, the healer told the princess that because she was frail right now, her body was at high risk of losing the babe. Aemma closed her eyes in despair; she was failing at her duty… 

Aly asked what could help the princess, making the healer respond. 

“Whatever is causing you heartache or deep unrest, princess, I suggest you fix it soon, not only for your own health but that of your babe’s, my princess.” The healer excused herself, leaving the room. 

Alysanne looked at Aemma, who started fidgeting with her rings. Aly sat beside her and pleaded with her about what was happening and why she was so stressed. Aemma finally broke down in tears, explaining the green box, the note, the argument, and the explanation she wanted to give her nephew, but he always tried to evade her. So she had given up trying to speak to him; now she needed to worry about her baby, making sure she could at least perform her duty to her husband. Alysanne embraced the princess as she grew angry; yes, the princess should have told Benjicot sooner, but for her nephew to just push away his wife, not only was he risking his relationship with their allies but with the health of his wife and unborn child. Alysanne stayed with Aemma until the princess tired herself out. Once she saw her sleeping, Aly left to scold her nephew. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why am I finding out that you have pushed your wife away from you?” shouted Alysanne, scaring Benjicort from his place. 

“What?” he asked confused. 

Aly’s nose flared as she repeated her question. Benjicot frowned and told his aunt she didn’t fully understand. This made Alysanne more upset. She stated that she knew everything, and while she could understand the betrayal, it was not severe to just push the princess away. Benjicot sighed, saying that they just needed time away from each other to think about what they wanted their marriage to be. Alysanne became furious. 

“Now I know, this isn’t about her not telling you; this is about you being self-conscious about your position as her husband. Knowing that other men find her attractive makes you scared you are going to lose her. Well, my nephew, if you were going to be one of those paranoid men, then maybe you shouldn’t have married a beautiful Valyrian princess. There will always be men lusting over her. Do you not think Ser Leanor or Prince Daemon knew about that with the Queen? But they understood their wife’s beauty and didn’t let that stop them from loving their wife. But the second you find out, a stupid man holds delusions of a stupid childhood. You give up on your marriage! Have you seen your wife, she…. She’s struggling, Ben, and you… you don’t see her fading away.” ranted Aly, tears streaming down her face, remembering what Aemma looked like. 

Benjicot was shocked; he knew his aunt was right about why he and Aemma fought. He wasn’t truly upset at Aemma for not telling him but more concerned that she would one day realize he wasn’t the best husband for her and leave. But hearing that she was struggling made Benji want to wallow in guilt. Was he genuinely ignoring her that he did not notice? 

Alysanne knew that she had finally made a breakthrough: " Please at least talk to her… let her explain fully…she’s … sick, Benjicot and your strained relationship with her is only harming her more.” Lying about being sick and not telling him about the pregnancy was princess news to bear. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Benjicot walked to Aemma’s tent. Going in, he saw her face. Her cheekbones started showing sunken, and she had dark undereye circles. His heart broke; he was the cause of this; as much as he wanted to lay in bed with her, fully acknowledging how much he missed her, he couldn’t. Walking out, he left to train, feeling the need to blow away some steam, imagining all the practice dummies to be a certain green king. 

As Aemma woke up, she noticed her breakfast was laid out but already cold. A maid told her mother had just left, not wishing to disturb the princess from sleeping. Aemma nodded as she remembered the healer’s and Aly’s words from last night. Reignited with fire, she decided: after spending time with Sliverwing, she would find her husband, make him listen, and, for their babe’s sake, have a cordial marriage if they could not have a fierce love one. 

Walking to her dragon, she could hear steel hitting something with intensity. As she turned, she saw her husband hitting the dummies with vicious and precise force. Aemma sharply inhaled; he looked handsome, fully acknowledging how much she had missed him. She walked towards him, stopping a few feet away and waiting a second before speaking. 

“Good morrow, my lord,” she spoke lightly, watching as he tensed up before turning to meet her gaze. His eyes were storming as he breathed heavily from the intense training. 

There was a moment of silence as both stared, watching the other, with only the sound of a breeze. 

“Be- My lord, I was hoping you could spare a few minutes for an audience with me?” asked Aemma. 

Benjicot cringed internally; they had not used their proper titles since the first night they met. Nodding, he walked down a path away from prying eyes as he sat on the grass, seeing how she struggled to sit down, causing a new wave of guilt to come over him. 

Aemma sat beside her husband as she asked for her fire to return to her. She could do this… for her babe. 

“I want to explain everything; I’m asking you to please listen until the very end…” pleaded Aemma, waiting until Benjicot nodded to continue. 

“When my family and I still lived in the red keep, this was when I was eight name days old, Aegon and I were watching our brothers train; he was talking about how his mother was talking about future marriages with him and how he did not want that. I took pity on him and joked about how we could marry each other, to which he agreed. He asked for a kiss to seal, and I was a naive girl, so I gave him a chaste kiss. I would have no idea if he actually took this as a promise. As I grew older and heard how he was treating the servant girls and my aunt Heleana, I decided to withdraw from him and Aemond, who is another whole situation. I have never really loved him; I will never love him. How could I love a man like him who takes things that don’t belong to him, who ruins someone's happiness? Who would gladly celebrate kin slaying? How can he compare to you, a brave fighter who takes responsibility for his family and people? Someone who has a kind heart hidden in layers of a solider. I have never had someone make me feel safe and loved like you have. You are easy to fall in love with, and I will gladly rip my heart for you to prove how much my heart belongs to you and not Aegon. I will gladly die for you. I know I broke your trust and may never win it back, and if you feel you cannot love me back, then I ask… I ask that we may be cordial with each other… for the sake of the babe.” ranted Aemma, looking down, not wanting to see his reactions. 

Benjicot gasped and stared at his wife's still flat belly… a babe… a child was growing in her body. This filled him with more guilt; he left her alone. She found out by herself and was willing to not have a loving relationship, in her thoughts, all for the babe. Benji shakenly reached out and raised her chin, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“A babe…” We are going to have a babe?” asked Benjicot as Aemma looked into his eyes and nodded. Benji took a second before he continued, “ I—I just hate that he thinks you belong to him…” Benji whispered to her. 

Aemma reached out and caressed his cheek. “I will never belong to him. I pledged my love to you before the Old Gods and the Fourteen Flames. My heart and soul belong to you and you alone. We made a blood bond; no other person will exist for me.” 

Benjicot kissed her hand, “How is the babe?” 

Once Aemma heard the question, she faltered and turned away. Benjicot turned her back to him, reminding him of when she had done the same to him. “Aemma, we promised not to lie to each other…please”. Benjicot pleaded with her as he noticed her taking a shaken breath. 

Aemma turned with tears in her eyes, “I’m at risk of losing the babe…. But I promise I will do my best to do my duty as your wife. House Blackwood will have a-” 

Benji kissed her, cutting her off, “Fuck duty, I will not lose you over a babe. If the gods wish to bless us, they will provide another babe, but they cannot give me another Aemma.” 

Aemma sobbed as she kissed him back; she had missed him so much. After sharing a sweet kiss, they stood, Benji, leading his princess to their tent. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the tent, there were faint gasps, moans, and grunts… with whispers of ‘I love you’s. Aemma lay in the arms of her husband, sleeping soundly, as Benji stared at his wife's naked and flat stomach. Their babe was growing inside there, and he almost lost them both to Aegon's fault. He now understood Rhaenyra’s and Aemma’s reasoning; in their delusions, the Greens will always hurt others to get what they deem theirs. They don’t love; they just take and ruin. They nearly destroyed his marriage, but Benjicot now knew better. He would fight for his love and family as his Aemma did. Then as Benji pulled his dragon princess closer to him, kissing her, he made a promise the next time he saw that green drunken whoremonger king, there will be a sword slicing through his fat stomach.

[feng-shui71]

More Re4 sketches ok i’m done I swear

[tumbling-through-deepspace]

Flustered Snowman

Breaking the fourth wall series. Previous >>> next

Zayne was puzzled by the dark background of Bree's living room.

He knew where she was by the large cabinet behind her, whose glass doors were reflecting a bit of light from an open window.

Why was she even in the dark? Did she not have an alternative light source? Why power up the game at a time like this? Priorities, woman.

The woman in question was rambling on about her day to someone on the other end of her phone call.

"It just came off for you too?... mmm, no. Could be because of the rain that's pouring right now."

This prompted Zayne to listen more closely. Indeed, the sound of heavy downpour could be heard followed by thunder.

He continued to watch as she moved about the space, gathering a few items. Ears picking up the few colorful words uttered as she stubbed her toe.

"I forgot to move that... yeah, I'm okay, just a bit clumsy... I remembered where they were... Now, where's that lighter... yeah? Alright then, I'll call you tomorrow. I really need to light these candles. Tell mom I said hello... okay, bye."

The call disconnected, and Bree sighed. "It would be nothing short of a miracle if the stupid power company could do without giving the entire town a power outage just because of some heavy rain..."

Zayne raised a brow, now understanding the situation.

"...Zayne, I'm sure you don't have this kind of plight in Linkon."

He couldn't help but smile at her choice of word or the fact that she was talking to him like he could respond.

Well, he could, but the doctor didn't think it would be wise to reveal that he was... 'alive'. At least not so soon.

He watched as she successfully lit three candles. A look of accomplishment adorned her face.

"Finally! And all it took was a bit of fumbling and a bruised toe."

She turned her attention to him as she repositioned the phone in her hands.

"I'm all yours now, doctor."

Zayne could feel his ears heat up. She was so clueless about the effect her words had on him. Her voice drew him in, captivated his attention, and made him bashful.

"Has anyone ever told you, Green looks good on you? This is by far my favorite outfit."

His ears got hotter. Gods, the compliments got to him the most.

He almost broke character when she unexpectedly ran a finger down the front of his shirt.

"You have no idea how handsome you are. If you were real, I'd never keep my hands off you."

Zayne couldn't take any more, and he crashed the app.

He could hear Bree fretting as she tried to reboot the game, but he refused to let her back in.

A tinge of guilt for his actions appeared, but he didn't have any other option.

He fell back into the chair to catch a breather, rubbing a hand over him chest as he could still feel the sensation of her touch.

A sigh left his lips when she stopped trying to get back in; instead going to prepare for bed.

"I'm usually calm and composed, yet something so simple has me reacting like this."

Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed a plan, but first

"I need some macaroons."

[twsted-void]

Happy birthday to me!

Well, okay, not YET. But! It's in about 3 months (June 28th!) So I had the idea to make a birthday art event/competition, like what I've been seeing my moots and friends do! Here is Void's new Lounging In Room card for our shared birthday!

(Normal pinned post!)

Participants!

Criteria/guidelines for submissions:

*Has to include my sona, Void, in his pajama outfit above!

*Can also include your oc's interacting with him, or ship art of him and Malleus!

*NO NSFW OR AI ART!! AND NOTHING WEIRD OR ILLEGAL (pr0ship, darkship, ect)

The deadline will be June 27th, the day before my birthday! That is, for the competition. If you have art you want to share after my birthday, feel free to!

Please be sure to tag me when you post it, and use the tag #twsted-void birthday bash !! Please and thank you!!

Rewards!

1st place, 2 fully rendered drawings of 1 or 2 characters separately, or 1 fully rendered drawing of 2 characters together!

2nd place,

Flat color drawing of 1 to 2 characters together!

3rd place,

Outline drawing of 2 to 3 characters! Can also be in a chibi/small style!

Once the winners have been chosen, I will dm you and announce them publicly!! If there's no response in 2 days, I will have to change the winner of that placement!! So keep a lookout once it gets to the end of June/July!!

And don't forget, you don't have to participate if you don't want to! I'd love to get participants, but if you don't feel comfortable doing so, no pressure!! Thanks guys, have a nice day!! Happy drawing, don't forget to have fun!!

Taglist: @oya-oya-okay @amai-sakura-chan @cheerleaderman @angelwishess @sunnysidesevenup @harryinramshackle @thelamentknight @prefectrose @ranas-twisted-wonderland @ramshackle-ramblings @kumikokane @kindhearted-mouse @w1ndigo0 @theolivetree123 (Let me know if you wanna be added/removed from my taglist!)

[surfshipping]

//SPOILERS FOR DELTARUNE CH3 UNDER THE CUT!

Be careful!

I finally get to see my husband again and he’s just covered in foam. I love him dearly .

stupid smellovision

[gritsandbrits]

The Impostor (Chase Young Selfship)

During a tryst with Chase, my self insert notices something odd about him. Did he really have a makeover as he claims or is there something else sinister brewing behind the scenes? Chase Young x OC/Self Insert. Contains a LOT of Chronicles bashing and creepy behavior. You have been warned.

Moonlight fell upon the temple roofs, a gentle breeze making the trees sway softly as a lullaby. The monks had retired for the evening, all except one. Being a part of faculty she had her own cottage away from the main quarters so she didnt have to worry about disturbing the students. Despite this, she was very careful not to make too much noise, which wasn't easy when she couldn't barely contain her excitement.

Miss Nia sat on her vanity finishing her hairstyle. She had on a deep purple quipao dress with a golden dragon on the skirt. Her face and bare arms shimmered with homemade glitter lotion make her skin glow like polished bronze. She was getting ready to meet a certain someone for their weekly tryst in the forest. They had only started dating a few weeks ago, and had agreed to meet in the forest every week. She even put on her favorite perfume. He said he had liked it after they had faced each other in a showdown.

Nia giggled. To think it was possible to date someone on the opposite side of good, especially someone as infamous as Chase Young.

When they first met they were purely enemies. He'd say something to get under her skin and she responded in kind. She took great pleasure in referring to him as a geezer on magic steroids. In time it became very clear that the differences in morality wasn't immune to the natural instinct of human attraction.

The immortal villain was intrigued by the woman, her quiet strength brimming with a fire that refused to be extinguished. It culminated with Chase capturing her along with Omi to make her his dark bride, this was when he and wuya had very briefly taken over the world, but a soccer game managed to win their freedom.

Since then, and more encounters after that, it became obvious to everyone on both sides that the two had a thing for each other.

Like, liked liked each other.

The flirty looks they'd shoot each other before during and after a scuffle. The time when chase got injured and he let her touch him so she coulf tend to his wounds. The inside jokes about Tai Chi.

There was more than enough proof there being something more than frenemies.

As much as Chase and Nia tried to deny it, eventually they decided that it was better to act on those feelings now then wait until things get too out of hand. So they decided to meet in secret, away from prying eyes and a jealous duo, on the condition that neither bring weapons or shen gong wu. No evil business or attempts to sway him to the light side. Where there was no heylin or xiaolin. Just two adults doing what normal people their age did when they had time to spare.

Once she figured out a style that she felt looked the best (a twist out) she grabbed her phone, a ratty blanket, and headed out of the cottage. She looked around for a moment ttaking sure no one was up before walking into the forest. She had her phone to check the time. She didn't want to wake up to an unwanted search party. A good ten minutes later she made it to the pond she dubbed "swan lake." It was a gorgeous body of water teeming with lotus and waterlilies, the water sparkling under the moon like stained glass in a church. A wooden bridge arched over the water decorated with vines. According to xiaolin legend, it was created by a pair of previous Dragons of Water and Nature as a declaration of their love.

Nia spread the blanket on the grass and waited for her darkhaired lover. It was only the lullaby of the trees and lake that kept her company. She checked the time on her phone and frowned. Usually he would be here popping up beside her or levitating from a perch above. He may be an evil warlord but he was also punctual.

Time passed and after a bout of Dessert Break, Nia was starting to feel frustrated. No way he could've forgotten about their date. "Or  maybe he's too caught up in evil busines," the Xiaolin mistress muttered to herself. For a second she was afraid that he might have ghosted her. Love had no place in the Heylin. Perhaps Chase decided a few weeks of entertaining her fantasies was enough to get it out of his system. He could have at least sent one of his big cats to tell her the news.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard something rustling in the background. Years of training instilled an immediate response to noise. She jumped into a boxing stance. "Chase is that you?"

Suddenly she heard a deep rumbling noise, as if somebody was laughing at her. She wrinkled her nose her frustration glowing. "If your doing this to scare me Chase then you could've brought Wuya without her makeup," she groused. Again the laughter got louder as if getting a sick amusement from seeing her upset.

"Im warning you you'll be wishing you never eaten that godawful soup when I'm done with you," Nia snapped.

"My dear you look so much lovelier when you're... all worked up." Said a deep voice that sounded nothing like the one Chase had.

"Who are you?" Nia asked.

As soon as she spoke a figure stepped out from the shadows. She gasped when she saw who it was.

"Ch-Chase?"

Chase Young, the Heylin Prince of Darkness and her bedtime buddy, stood in full view smiling wickedly at her.

She was like a present on a holiday, catered just for him. And the choice of dress wasn't too bad either. Fit for a Heylin Bride. He licked his lips but forced himself to contain his urges. He didn't want to frighten away his pawn.

Nia stared at Chase, her mouth agape until she took her hand and closed her jaw. "You look different," she stammered as he slithered towards her. Once he got close enough she reached out to trail her fingers down his face. His jawline was slender as if he has gotten plastic surgery from someone who based their knowledge on youtube makeup tutorials.

"I thought... it was time to give myself a makeover, for the new year of course," the draconian warrior purred as he nestled his face into her hands. His tongue peaked out to lick at the tips of her fingers. Nia drew back suddenly. Chase would kiss the back of her hand.

"What's wrong?"

"Im sorry it's just, your new look is gonna take me some time to get used to," she said, leading him to sit down with her on the blanket. He sat down next to her laying back with one arm propping his face. Thanks to the light she got a clear look at him. His armor looked the same except the gold lining were thinner.

"You have nothing to worry about my dear," said Chase as he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her close. He buried his face into her neck getting a good whiff of her perfume. Jasmine. He poked his tongue out again to lick at her pulse point. Nia shuddered. Chase continued ravishing her neck with kisses, growling at the slight hitches she would make. Nia clung to his shoulder pads. "Since..hah...since when did you get so, bold-ah!"

"Let's just say you are absolutely ravishing tonight my darkeyed beauty," Chase mumbled into her skin. As he continued his feast, Nia couldn't shake of her lingering sense of dread. Maybe he had changed his looks with magic but that still didn't ease her mind. Him getting right into making out wasn't like him, most nights she had to work for it by fighting him in a duel. Or maybe his dragon side was in heat. Still she couldn't really enjoy his kisses as much as she usually does.

When she had enough she asked him to let go, but he refused. His kisses only increased with greater passion. She pawed at his armor notso gently

"Okay stop-hah~" she choked on her sentence as she felt his teeth nipped the area between her neck and shoulder blade. God how was she going to explain this to her kids tomorrow?

"Mhmm, delicious." The green male pulled her closer until her breasts were completely smushed into the metal plating of his chest. He even snaked a hand down her back and pinched her butt!

Nia jumped. "Okay that's enough!" Her shout cutting through the quiet of the forest. Her lover drew back, His amber eyes burning with lust, mouth shimmering faintly from being buried in her neck.

"Oooh somebody is getting feisty," he moaned as he licked traces of body glimmer from his lips. "I can smell your desire for me."

"Can you give a girl a little warning next time?" Nia asked, feebly trying to play off her discomfort with a laugh. Chase started laughibg his deep voice echoing through the forest and sending chills done her spine. Not the good kind of chill but one that made the pit in her stomach worse.

"Forgive me for being so...rough my dear but i could not help but be entranced by your bewitching scent," said the Heylin warrior. He leered over her as if eager for seconds. She leaned away from him. Either she was tripping or did he change more than his looks?

"I think its getting late," she spoke up suddenly. For a second thought she saw a look of disgust on his face before settling into an arrogant grin.

"And why? I've just got here," said the heylin prince.

"I have to get back to the temple, i need to get some sleep or i might fall asleep in the middle of teaching," she said. She adjusted the neckline of her dress before gathering her things. "Besides I don't know if youre in heat and I dont know if we take it too far you might lose control-"

"Darling Im always in control."

Nia fixed him a look before nodding. Maybe this was the real chase and she was just being paranoid. "It was nice being with you again."

Chase leaned back against a tree. "It was good getting a real taste of you. Perhaps next time we can have a full banquet." He licked his lips at the thought of devouring her like a real man should. The Xiaolin teacher blushed at his words and scamper back towards the complex.

As Chase watched her go he began cackling to himself. "Oh yessss, you have nothing to worry about indeed, my new bride," he muttered. He was feeling very pleased with himself. Soon he will have not only full control of the world but a hot babe at his side too! His minion had already taken of those filthy beasts.

At the mountain fortress, a woman with long teal hair and wearing purple and black armor smirked as she looked over the unconscious felines.

"Not so tough now arent ya?" She taunted them. "Oh wait you cant hear me." She cackled. Thanks to the sleeping spell she put them in, the so called army of ferocious warriors were as harmless as kittens. She looked up at the other man sitting in the sphere of yun. He was quiet but eyes were burning with a rage that could melt the glass around him.

"Oh dont give me that look," she mocked, feigning sympathy. "You should be happy we're only sparing your life."

The legitimate prince of the Heylin seethed then calmed himself. Clearly he made an error in judgement when the two scam artists showed up at his door and blindsided him and his army. They might have won this round but he wasn't going to let them enjoy victory either.

"And someone should spare you from the ugly clothing. At least the insect puts an effort to coordinate his outfits." Chase smirked at the look of offense on her face. She hissed at him then turned away with a pout. She hoped her master can get back here soon so they can deal with his other self.

** this ends the first chapter in a story that might not not ever be completed. The idea came from my recent rewatch of the og show, which also brought back my negative feelings for the awful reboot. Seriously Chronicles butchered every single good thing about the original. Espcially my f/o Chase Young. So I will not be kind to it. Plus I was disappointed with the lack of Chase young x OC/reader, and i got tired of seeing Chack all the time, so think of it as my way of filling in the gap. And if anyone says im writing xc!chase and shadow ooc: i am writing then exactly how they are in the show, only now they have their mary sue license revoked, so their creepy relationship is treated like the garbage it really is.**

[pinkomalin]

Knock knock, who’s there? Mini Childhood friends AU Lemchai comic that’s who! (Blehhh)

I haven’t forgotten about them I swear! It’s just been *checks watch* five months since I’ve made anything for them. Kinda crummy but I had fun so whatever!

And yeah, when Lemon was younger she had heart problems. :P

[skylerfurmaniac]

Hiii art postttt

Stella!!! (REAKLY PROUD OF THIS)

GAY LOTLS LETS GO (yellow character + some yellow drawings are by @omuricebreakfast)

Okay comic of the gays underneath keep reading it's just kinda long cus I can't group the pics the right way cus mobile is being weird :/

💥🏳️‍🌈💥🏳️‍🌈💥🏳️‍🌈💥🏳️‍🌈💥🏳️‍🌈💥🏳️‍🌈

Also thing I won't finish lmao

[damiansgoodgirll]

it’s gonna be so good after bash in berlin and tonight’s raw!

can’t wait for you to read this!

[snuuyfanged]

i drew them so i don't explode