#blue hounds tongue

[vandaliatraveler]

Part 1: After the Rain - Life in an Appalachian Temperate Forest.

From top: Dryad’s saddle (Cerioporus squamosus), a magnificent and edible shelf fungus of Appalachia’s spring forests; wild comfrey (Cynoglossum virginianum), a native borage sometimes also referred to as blue hounds tongue; violet wood sorrel (Oxalis violacea); American cancer-root (Conopholis americana), a parasitic plant that attaches to oak tree roots; northern maidenhair fern (Adiantum pedatum); and wild stonecrop (Sedum ternatum), also known as three-leaved stonecrop.

[indigrassy]

Don't forget me

[aurorawritestoescape]

THE HOUNDS OF HELL

written with @milla-frenchy

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Steve Murphy

Summary: you meet two DEA agents in a bar. You drink too much and they offer to take you home.

Warnings: 18+ mndi. Dubcon (alcohol), dark!Javi, dark!Steve, unprotected piv, mfm, dvp, oral (f/m), ball sucking, manhandling, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, manipulation, cum eating, cum play, multiple orgasms. Steve can pick up reader. No age specified

Word count: 4,3k

A/n: @toxicanonymity this is for you🖤💖 It’s our way of thanking you for all the amazing fics you've been gifting us over the past year! We love you!🫶

The title is from the lyrics of Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes

Part 2 || AO3 || Milla’s Masterlist || My Masterlist

*****

You were spending Friday night with your friend in your favorite bar. The air was filled with music and cigarette smoke. You were chatting and drinking when two men approached your table. They asked if they could join you two, the place being packed. You didn’t mind, and they introduced themselves. The man who sat next to you had dark hair and piercing eyes. His name was Javi.

The blonde one, Steve, joined your friend. He had beautiful blue eyes.

Both of them were handsome and seemed nice.

Javi said they were DEA agents and you felt even more at ease around them. Every second man in Bogota was somehow connected to drug dealing and it was nice to meet someone safe. In no time you were talking, laughing and enjoying their company.

At one point Steve offered to buy another round and you agreed. A few minutes later, your friend said that she didn’t feel good. You offered your help but she refused, not wanting to interrupt the fun. At first, you felt a bit uncomfortable, alone with the two men, but as the night progressed you shared more stories, drank more tequila and forgot your concerns. They were good company and pleasant. They showered you with attention, yet weren’t sleazy or inappropriate. Sometimes you would notice their eyes lingering on your lips and chest for a little too long but you felt flattered.

“Vamos a bailar (let’s dance),” Javi suggested and you jumped at the opportunity to move as your head started to feel heavy after all the drinks.

Steve stayed at the table nursing his beer.

“Gonna watch you two for now,” he said with a glint in his eye and gave you a lopsided smile before Javi led you to the dance floor.

***

Soon your hips were seductively swaying to the rhythm of the music as Javi’s gaze was gliding over your lips, down to your breasts and legs. You turned around to show off your ass as your hands slid up and down your body accentuating every curve for his eyes to devour. A second later you felt his hands on your hips, not grabbing you but gently resting there, keeping you close. So close that you could feel his massive bulge brushing against your lower back. The idea of that handsome man getting hard because of you made you gush and you leaned against his broad chest as he wrapped his arms around your middle, a big hand splayed over your belly. Now with your heated bodies flush with each other, it seemed like there was only you and him on the crowded dance floor.

You felt his mustache tickling your cheek, his hot wet breath caressing your neck, and you turned your face to him. Javi’s eyes were obsidian with lust and even the flashing lights over your heads couldn’t push through their darkness. He looked at your lips and in the next moment he leaned in and kissed you, slowly and gently, as if luring you in. The moment his tongue tasted yours, you moaned and felt your cheeks heat up at your involuntary display of desire. You pulled away and turned your face away from him, trying to calm down and taking deep breaths.

Javi turned you around, and everything swayed, thanks to the tequila shots.

“Qué pasa, hermosa? (what is it, sweetheart?). It’s just a kiss. Estás buenísima (you’re so hot),” he whispered against your temple.

You realized that two pairs of hands were touching you. Feeling another broad chest at your back, you opened your eyes and tried to turn around but they stopped you.

“No, baby, stay like this. Wanna dance with you too,” Steve said into your ear and began moving with the music.

His bulge was grinding against your ass making you soak your panties. You were caged between the two man and albeit being nervous you couldn’t deny the growing tingling between your legs. They were hot and you were having a great time. While the music carried you, their hands were roaming your body, not aggressively but in the way that made you want more. At one point Steve’s face happened to be inches from you and your lips met. The kiss was slow and intense and you got lost in it while they both were holding you between them.

Suddenly you felt dizzy and hot so you stopped dancing and said that you needed some fresh air.

Steve walked you out while Javi went to pay for the drinks. Your legs were weak and you felt like you could fall any second.

“I think I should go home,” you mumbled, bracing your hand on the wall outside the bar.

“You ok, baby?” Steve asked with worry in his voice holding you by the waist, “Let’s get you in the car. We ain’t leaving you alone.”

“Take me home, please,” you asked as Steve wrapped his arm around your torso. You two got in the back of the car and a few moments later Javi joined you taking the driver’s seat.

***

You felt shaky and foggy, but happy to finally sit down. Too much alcohol in too little time, and you were clearly unable to drive. You took a deep breath of relief. Two DEA agents as bodyguards in the streets of Bogota, it couldn’t be better.

When Javi started the engine, you asked him to wait a few minutes, afraid of being sick. Steve, sitting next to you, leaned between the front seats to put a cassette into the car stereo and the sound of a bass guitar filled the space of the car. He turned up the volume, and you rested your head on the seat, staring at the streetlights lighting up the night city. Javi was hitting the wheel with his thumb to the rhythm of the music.

You turned to look at Steve, who was moving his head enjoying the song. Sometimes he closed his eyes, that way feeling the music even more. And then he started to sing.

You couldn’t believe how well he sang, couldn’t take your eyes off him. He looked at you and smiled as he was singing, and his blue eyes made you melt. He placed his arm on the headrest behind your head and leaned down to kiss you. Your panties had already been soaked under your short dress, since the three of you had danced at the bar. You felt yourself gushing more while you were kissing.

He smelled of mint, whiskey and cigarettes and was exuding self-confidence. Damn, he was so hot, with his brown leather jacket and jeans. When his lips slid down to your neck, you slipped your fingers into his blonde hair. His mustache was rubbing gently against your skin. You glanced over at Javi who was watching you two in the rearview mirror. He readjusted himself with a smirk on his face, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

Steve pulled back, his face still staying inches from yours, and asked, “how do you feel?”

“I’m better now. We can go...”

“Great. What’s your address, baby?”

After you told them, Steve gave a nod to the other man and leaned towards you again. Javi started to drive. Steve’s hand rested on your thigh, and you tried not to start rolling your hips while you two were kissing.

"Wait, I feel dizzy...we should…uh…slow down”, you mumbled, trying to blink the spinning away.

“You’re ok, baby. You didn't have that much. Soon you’ll be home, asleep in your bed, ok?”

You nodded, although you weren't sure you drank as little as he said. His lips were on yours again, and his hand slid up your leg. When you moaned against his lips, he slipped his hand between your thighs.

“No wait, I don’t-”

“Ain’t gonna hurt you, beautiful…just wanna have a good time before we get to your place.”

He hissed through his teeth when his fingers reached your pussy. “Damn! You’re soaked, baby. It's a shame we can’t enjoy it. But we’re good guys, aren’t we Javi?”

“Yeah…we’ll keep it in our pants, Hermosa, don’t worry.”

You relaxed, and when Steve plunged his fingers into your pussy you didn’t stop him. You let yourself be lulled by the ride and by his fingers, your head laid back. You snaked your hands under his jacket, and felt his hot chest, his muscles under the shirt. Your eyes rolled back, and you whispered, “fuck…’m gonna…’m gonna come.”

“Yeah, you're squeezing my fingers so damn hard. C’mon, give it to me, baby, you’ll feel better, I promise.”

You noticed him glance at Javi and smile, but your mind was too foggy to react. When you came all over his fingers, you grabbed his wrist to keep them buried inside you until you stopped shaking.

“Fuck…I really think I drank way too much…Shouldn’t have done that.”

You looked out the window, feeling the car slow down, but you didn’t recognize the houses.

“Where are we?”

“Just grabbin’ some stuff at Javi’s…won’t be long. Come on, baby. Can’t stay in the car at night, it’s too dangerous.”

“Wait, no…You said you were bringing me home!”

“And we gonna. Won’t be long, I told ya. Unless you wanna walk home alone, from here? Your choice.”

You sighed, and followed them. You couldn't possibly walk alone, in the middle of the night, in that dress. You stumbled, and Javi grabbed your arm.

“Lemme help you,” he said, smiling.

***

He led you to his apartment, Steve walking in front of you two. Your legs were still trembling from your orgasm and the alcohol in your blood. When you entered Javi’s place, the men glanced at each other and you felt slightly uncomfortable.

“You’re gonna drive me home, right?”

“Sure, baby”, Steve replied.

You shivered from the cold, your jacket was in your car, and your tight dress covered little of your body. Javi poured three shots of tequila, which he and Steve drank in one go. Javi handed one to you.

“Come on, hermosa. It’ll warm you up.”

You knew it wasn't a good idea, but you didn't dare refuse. You drank it, trying not to think about your complaining stomach.

They took off their jackets, and Steve moved closer to you. “Come dance with me,” he said, holding out his hand to you. Javi put on some music, and you mechanically took Steve’s hand. The music was soft, and even though you still felt shaky, Steve held you and you couldn't deny the warmth in your lower stomach. His hands slid down your body, brushing against your back then your hips, his nose buried in your neck. He breathed into you and his soft growls fueled the fire within you. When he moved his body closer to yours, you felt his hard cock. Javi joined you, pressing himself against your back. He was hard too. You let them lead the pace, and their sensual caresses made you forget your discomfort.

“You know, beautiful, we’d like to have a good time with you. I think you want it too. Don’t ya?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m not feeling well.”

“I’ll tell you what. We're gonna check if your pretty little pussy wants it. Ok?"

Without waiting for your response, Javi lifted your short dress.

“Look at me, baby”, Steve said, as Javi slipped his hand into your panties.

“Wow, hermosa…you're dripping. This pussy wants to get filled. She wants to take some cocks.”

Steve's eyes were fixed on Javi's, before looking into yours. His gaze was overflowing with carnal desire while Javi was gently running his finger over your clit.

“What do you think, baby? I know you liked it in the car. Want a little more?”

You couldn’t deny that Steve made you come quickly. If he was as good at fucking you as he was at fingering, you were going to have a great time. While you were trying to gather your thoughts, he smelled his fingers covered with your dried cum and licked them.

“Taste her, Javi. She tastes so good.”

Stunned, you felt Javi remove his fingers from your pussy, before licking them too.

“Yeah…wanna eat that cunt now. You’re ok with that, Hermosa?”

You saw yourself nodding, without really controlling your response.

“Come in the bedroom, bebita. Lemme taste you.”

***

You followed them, and Steve led you to the bed where you lay on your back. Javi took off his shirt. He was beautiful. Both of them were.

Javi crawled across the bed to you, pulling your dress up over your hips. He licked your pussy still covered by your panties and you couldn’t help but moan. Steve sat next to you, took off his shirt too, and unzipped his jeans. Javi alternated between running his fingers and pressing his tongue against the soaked fabric. He pulled your panties to the side, and planted a kiss on our clit, making you moan instantly.

“Fuck, hermosa…wanna eat you so bad.”

He traced your folds with his nose, then his tongue. Pointing it at your folds, he spread them as it went through, and you were no longer holding back your moans.

“Wanna let me fuck you a little, before I taste you? Yeah?”

You nodded. The fire in your core was devouring you from the inside and you weren't really in a state to say ‘no’ anymore. When Javi settled between your thighs after taking off his jeans, Steve was already lying naked against you. He let his fingers run over your breasts, your stomach, your hips. Both of them were gorgeous and hot.

Javi took his cock in his hand and rubbed it against your folds to soak it with your wetness. As he nestled his tip at your entrance, Steve placed his fingers on your chin, turned your face to his, and kissed you. When Javi thrust in, you whimpered into Steve's mouth and he smiled. You felt your folds spread around Javi’s thick cock, and it felt good, so good that you couldn't help but moan.

“Oh fuck, you’re tight. Damn…already wanna blow my load into this pussy.”

He thrust in a few more times, growling in your neck each time he bottomed out, before pulling out and sitting down on his heels.

“Want me to fuck you too, beautiful?” Steve asked.

You nodded, and he manhandled you on top of him, your back on his chest, your dress pulled up above your breasts.

“We’re gonna make you feel really good, baby. Trust me.”

Your knees were bent and your feet planted on the bed. He grabbed his cock and pushed it up into you slowly, while Javi's eyes couldn't tear themselves away from your pussy swallowing Steve's cock. “Fuck me, that’s hot”, he said, still looking at the place where your bodies made one.

You felt exposed, fully offered to them, as Steve thrust into you slowly, after Javi had already stretched you.

Your eyes were closed, your body following Steve’s movements, so you didn’t see Javi leaning towards your pussy. When you felt his lips on your clit you breathed out a soft “oh my god”.

Steve said, “I told you we’d make you feel good, baby.”

And damn he was right. Steve’s cock was plunging in and out of your pussy while Javi was sucking on your clit. Sometimes he lapped at your folds, and you knew his tongue met Steve’s cock, his soft skin. It turned you on even more.

They heard you moan loader every time Javi’s tongue moved up from your folds to your clit, as he played with your sensations, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud. Steve groaned, still fucking your pussy, “Damn, I’m gonna come hearing you whimper like that, baby…”

"Not yet", Javi growled, "We're not done with her.”

He slightly lifted his torso up and asked you, “you’re gonna be a good girl, and cum on Steve’s cock, hermosa?”

You nodded, feeling how close you were from the double sensations. Javi’s tongue dancing over your clit and Steve’s slow strokes in your pussy were making your orgasm build fast.

“Come on, baby”, he said. Be a good girl, and soak my fat cock.”

When the climax hit you, Steve didn't stop talking. Telling you that he was proud of you, that you were taking his cock so well, and that he couldn’t wait to fill you up.

You had just come for the second time that night, and you thought it would be the last. But when Javi pulled back and Steve lifted you up, you realized that you were wrong. Javi lay down on the bed, as Steve took off your dress and said “You’re gonna ride Javi now, beautiful. Make him feel good, ok?”

You straddled Javi, and without hesitation this time you grabbed his cock with your hand before impaling yourself on it.

“Look at you, Hermosa…taking my big cock like a champ.”

Their praise made your head spin, and when Steve stood up and presented his cock to you, you didn't hesitate. You gave it a few licks, before letting him sink into your mouth. You slowed down your movements so you could suck him properly, and his precum was running down your throat.

“Yeah, just like that, baby. You’re so damn good at this.”

You were giving all of yourself, wanting to please him. At the same time Javi’s hands were roaming your body as you were riding him.

“Wanna suck my balls now, baby? Yeah, just like that, fuck…”

Steve held his cock against his lower stomach and jacked off while you licked his sack. You took one in your mouth, then the other, looking into his eyes. His gaze was down at you, as his firm hand kept jerking his cock, until he pushed it down your throat again, holding his balls in his large, firm hand.

“Fuck, Steve, we found a good slut. Ready to take our cocks in her little holes.”

Steve hummed, alternating between slow and deep thrusts in your mouth, and then fucked your throat until you were choking on his cock.

He pulled out and said before getting off the bed, “Fuck her rough now, make her scream on your thick cock. Gotta prepare her for what we’re gonna do next.”

You shivered when you heard him, wondering what he was talking about, but Javi didn’t give you time to think. He gripped your hips, fucking up into your pussy hard and fast.

“Yeah…take it like a good whore. Fuckin’ take it.”

Steve was sitting in a chair by the bed smoking a cigarette and watching you getting pounded. He turned on an oscillating fan standing on the dresser as it got too hot. The air was humid and smelled of sex.

Javi grabbed your neck with both hands, slowing down the pace and instead fucking you deeply, and groaned, “I want you to come on it.”

You didn't have the presence of mind to say that you couldn't come again. Your clit was rubbing against Javi’s lower stomach and, being impaled on his cock, you let your body take over and you came again, hearing Javi growl, “fuck…this pussy’s squeezing me so hard.”

Steve was calmly watching you unravel on Javi’s cock, a cigarette in his mouth and his hard dick in the hand. His thick long member was still glistening with your saliva as he was slowly stroking himself.

When you braced your hands on the bed feeling and looking spent after the drinks and the fucking, Javi sat up and let you rest on his chest. You were catching your breath on his lap, nuzzling his neck, when Steve got up from the chair and came up to the bed. He handed the almost finished cigarette to Javi who took a few drags, holding you against him.

Then the men looked at each other, communicating without saying a word, and Steve slid his hands under your arms lifting you and helping you off the bed. The men were manhandling you as if you were a fuck doll for them to use. You felt degraded but couldn’t help but love it.

You stumbled on your trembling legs and Steve immediately grabbed you by the back of your thighs and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he searched for your lips with his.

Everything was buzzing around you and you felt like you could fall off him every second. So you embraced his neck tightly with your arms and let him devour your mouth. You couldn’t help but rock your hips and grind your pulsating clit against his soft tummy.

While kissing Steve, you heard Javi get off the bed and stand behind you. His hands grasped your thighs and he whispered into your ear, “ready to take our fat cocks, hermosa?”

When you parted from Steve and looked at him with worry, the man gave you a carnal smile, tilting his head.

“We got you so wet, baby, they’ll slide in with no problem. And we’ll be slow, we promise. Right, Javi?” he said with a smirk glancing at his friend over your shoulder.

“Claro (sure),” Javi chuckled, as Steve’s cock nudged your wet hole.

You moaned when he pushed his tip into you, your thighs spread wide around his middle letting him do it easily.

“Stick it deep inside her. She deserves it,” Javi murmured, his lips brushing against your neck.

You felt Steve’s cock slide into you deeper inch by inch until he bottomed out with a soft ‘yeah’, his fingers digging into your thighs. Steve made a few slow thrusts bouncing you on his cock and you whimpered into his shoulder.

“Stuff her pussy with me, Javi.”

He grasped the back of your neck with one hand and pushed you closer to him, your naked breasts pressed to his chest. Javi was helping to hold you up as Steve’s length was buried deep inside your cunt.

“Got a place for me, hermosa?” Javi murmured and his hand guided his cock to your entrance, already stretched around Steve’s thick member.

You felt him push the tip in and you gasped.

“C’mon, bebita, let me in,” he whispered as his hand slithered between your bodies and he began rubbing your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled back and Javi finally slid the head in. You felt stretched to the limit as the second cock was spreading your walls wider but the dull ache soon was replaced by pleasure when they started rhythmically rolling their hips. Your moans and their grunts filled the bedroom as their cocks were moving in and out of your crying cunt. Steve’s half lidded eyes were locked with yours.

“Fuck… love your pussy, baby.. ‘s tight.”

“She’s dripping down my balls, Steve. Nuestra putita (our little slut),” Javi said through panting, increasing the pace at which his length was ruining you. Pleasure was spreading through every cell in your body and you were trembling in their arms.

Your cries were getting louder and the men were growling with animalistic vigour, caging you between their sweaty bodies.

“Come again for us, baby, come on our cocks,” Steve encouraged you as his hand grabbed your breast and he twitched your nipple.

“We’re gonna fill you so full, hermosa, you’ll taste our cum on your tongue,” Javi whispered, leaving kisses on your cheek and jaw, still rubbing your clit with his fingers.

Steve chuckled at Javi’s words and they both started moving you up and down their cocks. The gentleness was gone, only feral desire was leading their actions. You felt their members slide against each other inside your dripping pussy, hitting your cervix and massaging your soft spot.

Your climax hit you so hard and you were shaking in their embrace and tears welled up in your hazy eyes. Every part of your body was flooded with ecstasy and your brain shut off while they kept fucking you through your shattering orgasm.

Soon they both followed you. First Steve moaned, closed his eyes and thrust deep and slow into you, shooting the spurts of his warm cum as deep as he could.

“Gonna fill her too,” Javi growled and bit your shoulder before he began squirting his seed making your pussy even fuller. Steve seemed completely lost in the pleasure. They both kept fucking you through their highs and the lewd sounds of squelching mixed with the moans.

When they stilled inside you, you slumped down in their arms completely spent, exhausted, fucked out like never before and they both placed you down on the bed. You all were breathing heavily, bodies sweaty and satiated.

Javi went to get a cigarette and Steve sat down on the bed next to you. He was looking down at you smiling while his hand glided down from your stomach to your puffy folds. You whimpered when his thumb brushed your clit and you tried to close your legs.

“Shh, I won’t, I won’t. Just wanna see you ruining the sheets, baby. Spread ‘em.”

Still catching your breath you opened your legs. You felt a trickle of their cum spill out generously out of your stretched hole and slide down to your asshole. Steve cursed.

“Javi, come look at our messy girl,” he said, his eyes glued to your overflowing pussy. His fingers kept sliding between your folds gathering the pearly liquid and pushing it back inside you.

Javi came up to the bed, his semi hard cock swaying with each movement, and stood there smoking and watching Steve play with your cunt. You felt your core tighten again but couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. The room was spinning when you finally let yourself rest and fell into deep sleep.

***

You woke up the next day in your bed, your pussy sore and your head pounding. Your roommate said that a blonde man had brought you home asleep in his arms early in the morning. You tried to puzzle together the details of the night but all you could remember was the best fucking of your life.

*******

Thank you for reading!❤️

Comments and reblogs will be greatly appreciated!

PART 2

*****

Other fics by @milla-frenchy and me

Keep on your mean side - Joel x f!reader - dark

The Burglary - Joel x f!reader x Tommy - dead dove, noncon

Bad Girl - Joel x f reader x Tommy - dubcon

*****

Here’re our Steve and Javi fic recs❤️ Check these hot stories out!🥵

The Raid (Javi x reader x Steve) @toxicanonymity

After Hours (Javi x reader x Steve x Carillo) @psychedelic-ink

Crossing Lines (Javi x reader x Steve) @lunitawrites

Lie Still (Javi x reader x Steve) @milla-frenchy

Tag list: @littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist @nervousmumbling @stevie75 @puduvallee

[diejager]

I know this kinda sounds stupid- but can you do a feral deer reader who was found by the task force? The reader has some magical healing abilities, so she ended up captured and hired as a medic. Since the reader never really communicated with humans/ other hybrids and was mostly by herself, she doesn't understand social stuff. For example, she can be convinced that getting groped is a greeting, and she'll agree since she never interacted with other hybrids before. So she's pretty much oblivious.

If possible- make her a bit fluffy? 👉👈

I’m going to make this the continuation to Doe because I can!! Muhahahahahah!!!!!! ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, non-con touching, magic, hybrid, groping, tell me if I missed any.

You were introduced to Laswell after the mission, dressed in better clothing than the tattered dress you wore, antlers cleaned from all the leaves and officially claimed by the Task Force, you found a place in their group. Going through a few rough patches and scuffles to get you out of your home, they watched you tend to your wounds, your hands glowing over the scrapes and tongue lapping at your bleeding fingers. Your… ability was the driving nail that forced Laswell to bend to their words, she’d been hounding them to get a medic or someone with better medical knowledge than the four of them combined. 

After all the paperwork and sweat, Price had the honour of locking the pretty collar they team bought you around your neck, the insignia gleaming under the office light was the final step to bind you to them as your handlers, a poor and fragile, little deer they saved from the freezing Canadian wilderness. But in all honesty, all they did was separate you from your herd, the warmer spring announcing the end of your antlers and the growth of a new set, it made frolicking and dancing easier than winter did. You were plucked from everything you knew, ripped from your lush forest and livelihood where you watched over the fauna and little critters that came to you for healing, and forcefully placed in a dead and unfeeling world where grey buildings towered over the forests and life restrained to small patches of dying soil. It made you uncomfortable, but the binding words the four men - human men - and the nice but stoic lady (she looked so tired, it made your hands itch to soothe her aches) shared with you made it seem like it was impossible for you to return to your home. 

“This is your new home, sweetheart,” the bear-like man said, his gruff voice and imposing figure had you shuddering in your seat, much more than the energetic man with electric, blue eyes that you then learned was Soap. 

You wanted to argue, but your voice died in your throat when they all stared at you with dark and expectant eyes, seemingly anticipating submission and obedience from you as a deer. How could you fight when they held such an oppressive air around them, but perhaps it was just their broad and muscular bodies that made your nerves bristle; perhaps they were nicer than they looked, gentler and tender like the way that man with brown eyes held you in the metal bird, whispering sweet and comforting words; or perhaps they were truly mean and dominating, like some pack of wolves that shared your home. You hoped they were as nice as the Gaz, who made you call him by his… real name? You were confused, but you did as he asked, calling him Kyle unlike the other men. 

You gave Price a muted nod, eyes cast down and fingers scratching and pulling at your restrictive clothes, feeling too covered and your skin too sensitive by all the irritating fabrics and silks. It hadn’t taken them much time to intergrate you in their schedule, finding you a place in their group to stare at and work despite your clear confusion about the social norms and your sudden duty. The human world was a stranger to you, foreign acts and alien words that you needed help with: you could read some words while others were completely incomprehensible for your feral mind, or your confusion about the use for phones and anything too advanced had you fumbling with your words.

It’s good that you had them to help you, no? 

Price made you attend classes with him and Ghost, being taught the alphabet and complicated words after the training drills and morning rituals, sometimes seated between them, squeezed so tightly between their broad shoulders, and other times seated on their laps, their shadow looming over you when they bent over to show you something. They touched you a lot, Ghost having less restraint than his Captain, his rough, gloveless fingers sliding beneath your shirt and groping the softness of your stomach and kneading your breasts, feeling its weight and perky nipples. You squirmed on his lap, whined out your discomfort, used to physical interaction in your herd, but never something so forward, but Ghost had reassured you that this was a normal human behaviour towards someone they cared deeply for.

Price kept his to your stomach and ass, feeling the fat of your cheeks and occasionally standing a hit, drinking in your yelps and whimpers from his touches. He, alike Ghost did, assured you that it was normal that he hooked his arm around your hip and holding you flushed to his side, his musky scent wafting around you like a thick cloud of smoke. He ruffled your hair once your antlers fell, petting you like he would a dog, carding through your washed locks and chuckling when your ears twitched from being handled. He would often call you to his office at random times, allegedly wanting you to train healing them since humans were slightly different than hybrids and having you lick his paper cut with your pink tongue. He liked shoving two fingers down your throat and pumping until you gagged and choked, drooling down his wrist while he breathed heavily and palmed himself.

Gaz and Soap helped you with other things: understanding human behaviour, training you mind and body and helping you around the base when you were lost and disoriented. Both men were enthused to be your chaperone, excited to take part in your schooling in other ways. Gaz lead you around the base hand in hand, his fingers intertwined with yours in a strong and unmoving grip while he pulled you forward, your tail flicking anxiously when people gazed your way, their eyes probing your uniform-clad figure. He was more upfront than the older men, pulling you to his chest and cuddling you in public areas, the bigger rec room, the mess hall or the gym, nuzzling the crook of your neck, lips drawling pretty words on your throat and shoulder and hair tickling your skin, mumbling the sweetest praises despite your obvious stiffness.

Soap, not unlike Gaz, had you call him Johnny (Ghost called him that too, you quickly found out) and was the touchiest of the four, always placing a hand on you even in awkward and weird situations. Soap was more animalistic than the others, panting and huffing when he spent too long around you, rutting your thigh like a wolf in rut or another reindeer deep in the season, you were quite sure this one wasn’t that much of a norm, seeing people avert their eyes or Ghost scruffing Soap and hissing degrading words. He especially loved sparring with you, pinning you on the mat, hand wrapped around your nap and putting his weight on your struggling body. He’d grind his hard bulge against your ass, ignoring your cries and whines, happily huffing and groaning in your ear while Gaz and Ghost watched on, admiring the sight, a pretty and vulnerable deer with little stubs and flickering ears, writhing under the mutt of the Task Force. 

Even if your initial use was for healing wounds and supporting the team, they found a secondary task for you in all the chaos and caution, to help you open up to them faster and easier. It’d only take a few kisses, cuddling and sessions until you grow attune and accept your new home.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts

[honeyxbunny99]

Sandor Clegane~ The Bitch and The Hound pt. 1

You bit your tongue as you scrubbed at King Joffrey's stinking royal feet. The taste of blood and pain mingling in your mouth was the only thing strong enough to distract you from your own humiliation in this moment. You could blame Joffrey Baratheon, the foolish demon before you. You stole a glance upwards only for your eyes to quickly flit back down in shame when you saw his thin lips curled up in a wiry smile, hatred in his blue eyes, and it was all directed at you. No, not all the blame on him. Your father. 

Your father was to blame, that damned fool. He was the reason you were in this mess in the first place.  Once your father had been charming, or so you were told. A traveling magician who settled in King's Landing when your beautiful mother opened her legs to him one night. Truly, the greatest trick he'd ever pulled was bedding your mother. She was said to be the most beautiful woman in the Reach once, before she was trafficked to marry another noble. One fateful stop for the night, wine, and slight of hand, and you came into existence. You, who were once not even a thought, were suddenly a big problem. She was found with your father and bloody sheets and thrown out into the cold. She bore your stupid father one more child, a girl, before she couldn't handle her life any longer, and ended it herself. 

~Good riddance.~ You used to think sometimes. ~How could you leave us?~ You thought all other times. 

YOU were now the most beautiful girl in King's Landing, or as your father would bolster, in all the Seven Kingdoms. He had made it his mission in life to improve your family's circumstances, through no work of his own. No, your family's future depended entirely on your pretty face. Barely 17, you had developed a reputation around town for your beauty, and your mystery. You were not allowed to walk about unescorted, but your family had no money. Your father would walk you everywhere, keeping his prize close to his chest at all times. You were no fool; you knew you were beautiful by the way people's heads turned in the streets. By the way shopkeepers offered you items freely and how many men would come knocking on your father's door asking for your hand. 

Some men had been handsome, some had many prospects. And yet, your father turned them all away, wanting, no, needing, only the best. ~A fool~, you thought as you opened your mouth to wince, drinking in your own blood from your harsh bite on your tongue. 

He is the reason you were here, presented before the young king in your finest dress. 

~~"Your grace, what she lacks in title, she many times over supplements with her beauty, her kindness, and her intell--"

"That dog?" Joffrey started, looking between you and your father with a disgusted look that you had never seen before. "You've come to my castle to bring me a bitch? To what, to fuck, to marry, to kill?"

Your heart sank to your stomach as you listened to his harsh words. "Y-Your grace, it was my daughter's greatest wish to meet you. She can only dream of calling you her husband..." You watched your father take a step back in apprehension. Joffrey said nothing, only raised his eyebrows as if in wait of a punchline. "(Y/n) is the greatest beauty in all of the Seven Kingdoms, and she wishes to be your wife now and alw--"

The Boy King erupted with laughter. He doubled over in his chair, slapping his knee for effect. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and you glanced at the crowd surrounding you. Some laughed along with the boy king, others hid their face in embarrassment for you and your cause, but most were stoic, waiting for Joffrey's next move.  

The King stood finally and pointed his dainty finger at you. 

"This bitch is not fit to kiss my boot! You have brought shame on your family, ser, but not nearly enough. You see, I can't simply allow everyone to waste the king's time like this. Your family name is what, I've already forgotten?"

"(L/n) ... Your grace." Your father's voice was low. This had not gone at all how he had been expecting.

"(L/n) ... Well, my good man, I truly believe you will succeed in what you came here to do today. You came to make a name for yourself, and your whore daughter." As Joffrey spoke, you looked at the people around him. His mother, useless. His Head of the Kings Guard, an abuser just like him. And The Hound, his protector from childhood. Not one of them could end this miserable moment. "Today, no one shall forget the name (L/n)." 

As he finished speaking you realized he was right in front of you. He reached his hand up and turned your face with it, examining you. You held your breath, nails digging into your palms behind your back. 

"Hmm..." He looked you up and down, licking his lips fiendishly. "You are not fit to kiss my boot, but perhaps you could make use of yourself by washing my feet."

Your brow furrowed in confusion and the boy's smile grew. "Someone bring this bitch a sponge and water." 

"Your grace, I--"

"Ah, she speaks!" He cried out, looking at his followers for approval. Laughter followed and you saw someone dart off to fetch the items. "I don't like the sound of your voice. If I hear it again, your father will take the blows."

He stalked up the steps to the Iron Throne again with Pride. You stood frozen. "Well, take off my boots." He said lazily. 

"Your Grace, I do not wish to offend--" "Then don't, bitch... Your father said it was your greatest wish to be mine, or are you calling your father a liar... Lying to the king is an act of treason, and I don't mind reminding the court of the punishment for such crimes... Is your father a liar?"

"No." You said breathlessly. Tears pricked at your eyes at the thought. 

"Then today should be a dream come true for you... You get to touch your beloved king."

You looked back at your father, and out towards the freedom behind him. 

"Ser Merryn, pull her father to the side and bring forward my next citizen." Just then the man returned with a sponge and a bucket full of soapy water and forced it into your hands, the water splashing on your gown, making the king laugh. 

You struggled internally for a moment before your feet walked forward on their own. The king stared you down as you knelt at his feet, finally resolving to wink at you before his attention was drawn to another subject complaining. 

You tuned it all out as best you could and focused on the task at hand.~~

Finally, as you were drying your king's feet, he tutted at you and looked down. "You really are worthless, aren't you? You've missed a spot!" You squinted in confusion as the king brought his right foot closer to your face. Suddenly your face scrunched up tightly in pain as Joffrey kicked you hard in the nose. You fell back on your ass and slid down a couple steps as a result. Joffrey chuckled quickly as you panted and held your nose to stop the bleeding. He made a show of tying up his shoes while the court was silent, before standing and grabbing your bucket. He walked slowly towards you and raised the bucket over your head, then dumping the dirty water on your head. You gasped and choked on your own blood. Tears could flow freely now, as the water would mask it anyways. You stood quickly, not even thinking. 

"FUCK YOU!" You screamed. The boy's eyes widened. "Fuck you and your incestuous mother, you pathetic little shit!"

Ser Merryn marched forward at you as you heard your father shout scoldings and apologies. You blocked your face, but he hit you anyway. You stumbled back but did not fall.

"Ser Merryn! I said her father would take the blows!" The boy king retorted. The knight marched back over and whacked your father hard with the hilt of his sword 3 times. You dared not look away from the king. 

"Stop!... Ser, you came here today to improve your circumstances... And you, bitch, to find a husband worthy of your beauty. I am nothing if not a generous king, and I understand the needs of my people." He smirked, a fire in his eyes. "So, I will grant you your requests... Your circumstances shall improve, knowing you no longer have a bitch around to mooch off your family. And you," he smiled, biting his bottom lip, "You shall have a worthy husband... And who more worthy for a bitch, than a hound?!?" His voice was deranged, and he raised his arms up, demanding approval from his court. He did not receive it. 

"Hound!" He called and you watched his guard dog snap straighter in attention. "Come collect your bitch. You will wed tomorrow." 

You watched in terror as the giant marched up to you, his hair hardly hiding the burns marring his face, scowl ever present. 

"But--"

"Didn't I tell you that I hated the sound of your voice?! You will hold your tongue, or I will cut out your father's."

The hound grabbed your shoulder roughly and you pressed back against it, trying to push his hand off. He growled and picked you up to throw you over his shoulder. You winced at the change in pressure for your throbbing head but kept your mouth as quiet as possible in fear of further punishment. The hound began walking off, until he snapped back around at the final words you heard from Joffrey. "Don't forget to break her in rough!"

You trembled in the hound's hold. His pace was quick, and your face burned with anger and shame as he paraded you about the halls of The Red Keep, marching you to God knows where. Servants looked at you with fear and sympathy clear in their faces and you let out a small, choked sob. 

Suddenly you were dropped down to your feet in front of a great door. The Hound opened it wordlessly and shoved you in. He quickly shut it again before you could say a word, and you heard the lock click into place. You bolted over to the small window and looked down. There was no hope of escaping. You tried to steady your breathing and made note of things around the room but there wasn't much. You walked slowly into the next room, a bathroom, and noticed your reflection in a very broken mirror. 

Your sobs racked your body when you studied your face, bloody, dirty, wet, worried. You crumpled down to the floor and rocked yourself back and forth as you cried. That night was spent alone, cowering in fear in the bathroom. The Hound never once walked back in. 

In the morning you blinked your eyes open in surprise when a woman entered the bedroom. "Miss (L/n)?" The strange woman called, scanning the room. She rushed over to the window, as if worried you had somehow thrown yourself out of it. You came up behind her, back still flush against the wall, and said "I'm here." She gasped and smiled softly, hand clutching her chest. 

"Goodness, you gave me a fright." You winced at her words, remembering your face. You could still feel your heartbeat in your nose, and your right eye's vision was smaller than your left; a result of the backhand you'd earned from Ser Merryn. 

"I-I'm here to help you dress for the day, Milady." She sensed your discomfort and matched it with her own. 

"I don't need help." You retorted rudely. 

"I don't make the rules, I only follow them. Queen Mother Cersei has instructed that the rules for today are to dress you, feed you, and prepare you for your wedding night."

Your heart thudded faster in your chest, and you tried not to let your panic show. "Very Well." No use in fighting. You loosened the ties on the back of your dress and she rushed over behind you. "Let me help." She insisted. You thought of your sister, who you would normally dress with, and wondered if you would ever see her again. You wondered if your father already had, or if he was dead or locked away too. Either way, for certain you knew you were now a prisoner. A forced marriage to a monstrous man awaited you. You bit your lip and breathed quickly through your nose. 

"Hey," the woman said, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder and walking around to face you. "It does not have to be so terrible..." She tried to make you feel better. "You are here, in one piece. That is more than can be said for those that came after you... You really pissed the King off yesterday, you know."

"Whatever suffering Joffrey caused after me was his own doing, not mine and I--"

"Milady, calm down. I am not blaming you for anything. No one should. You said what we've all thought one time or another..." She smiled softly at you and your brow twitched. "The King is a monster... But your husband does not have to be."

She continued on as she dressed you, informing you how easily men can be manipulated into softness by their women. "Your beauty and your gentleness are weapons against a dog like him. Even wild dogs enjoy being pet." She winked. 

You let out a noise between a laugh and a scoff. "I am to be, in the words of his Highness, broken in rough. By a man people call a mad dog. Whatever beauty I had cannot save me now. My gentleness will be my undoing." You said coldly. The girl shook her head.  "Perhaps... Come, there will be breakfast in the garden."

Over breakfast you got to know the servant girl, called Anna, deeper although it took a great effort as she was not used to talking about herself. She even made you smile in spite of yourself. You did not eat of your own accord, only when she would force food into your hand, and say that you would need your strength. 

"Do you know how it works?" Anna said after some silence.

"What?"

"Sex? Breaking in?" 

Your eyes widened and you looked around the garden for eavesdroppers. She didn't seem amused. You cleared your throat. "My father could be a very crass man. Unfortunately, I have seen the act firsthand, when he was keeping my sister awake one night. Still, he wanted to preserve me as best he could."

"So, you ARE a virgin?" She raised her brows. 

"Of course."

She brought her hands up to hold her face, as she looked almost embarrassed or nervous for you. "Well, if you can handle the hound, you should be able to handle anybody."

You reflected on his size and felt the heat return to your face. "I'm terrified..." You confided. "I don't know all the cruel things men can do, and I never wanted to..." Your eyes welled with tears and your hands began to clam up and shake. "Do you think he will kill me?" You choked out. 

Anna got on her knees before you and took her handkerchief and dabbed at your face. "Oh, my lady, no, no, he will not kill you. Joffrey has not ordered him to do so, so he will not."

"But he will be rough."

"Yes, I imagine even gentle sex is rough with him... I am so sorry, (y/n). I do not envy your position, but know that I will see you the next morning and help you wash his filth off of you... Just try to close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere else." 

You chuckled sadly and nodded. You took a deep breath and stood as you heard the large clock strike noon. You were to be married in 4 hours. You had to start getting ready. You grabbed Anna's hand tightly and followed her back to the room. 

Later, things flowed as expected. There was a girl to do your hair, and one to fit you into a simple wedding dress. You tried with what little makeup they provided to hide how swollen your face was and highlight your eyes. Father always said it was one of your best features. Every girl is meant to feel beautiful on her wedding day, and yet as you walked down the aisle to your husband in a suit of armor and King Joffrey holding back laughter, you felt like a true clown. You said your vows, and your husband grunted out his. It was only then during the ceremony that you learned your husband's true name: Sandor Clegane. And now you were Lady Clegane. 

You sat silently beside your husband at the wedding feast. No one came up to congratulate you, and you didn't want them to. This was, after all, a punishment. Eventually you heard the voice of your father pipe up from across the room. He was laughing with some other nobleman you'd never seen. You furrowed your brows in confusion and anger and stood abruptly, causing your husband to glance at you. You paid him no mind and instead walked across the room to find him. 

"Ah, (y/n)!" He was loud, drunk. You saw the bruising on his face. "You looked beautiful as always, my darling. A truly happy day!" He said, truly jovial. You scowled at him, wanted to hit him. 

"A happy day?" You asked, venom in your voice. "Do you have any idea what you've cursed me to?! Your stupidity, your pride, your--" "That's enough." He grabbed your wrist tightly. "You've cursed yourself, you insolent girl." He whispered angrily in your ear. "If you had only shut up and let me do the talking, maybe you would be home right now. Maybe your sister would not have to carry on your burdens!" 

You winced audibly and twisted your arm. Your father grabbed your face and turned you forward to look at your husband, who was already looking at you from across the room, expression truly unreadable. "Your tongue got you into this. Your fiery spirit... I've heard the hound LOVES fire." Truly, your father had never quite been this cruel to you. You must have truly embarrassed him. "You made your bed." He spat in your ear. "Now go and lie in it."

With that you were released and walked quickly back to your seat. Sandor's eyes followed you the entire way, but when you sat down beside him and tried to meet his eyes face-to-face, he turned his head away. You blew a sharp breath out through your nose in humiliation. Your eyes were then directed to his hands, the way he tore apart a leg of chicken, his large meaty fingers relentlessly prying. Your stomach flipped on its own and you tried to chug your wine. 

Later that evening, at the king's insistence, Clegane carried you bridal style all the way to your room as his laughter echoed behind you. You tried not to, but you were shaking like a leaf. Even the alcohol could not dull your nerves. He set you down gently inside the room and you walked slowly to the bed. There was a great silence after he closed the door and locked it. You took deep breaths and tried to remember all that Anna had told you to prepare you. He turned around to look at you and leaned back against the heavy wooden door, arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes raked over him. Truly, if he wasn't so terrifying, he might be attractive. You tried to list his positives.

Tall, strong, gruff voice, very likely well-endowed, loyal... Who he was loyal to was another issue entirely, but perhaps like Anna said, you could work him into your favor. His eyes focused on all the different parts of you.

You licked your lips in preparation of your speech, truly the first words you would ever speak to him outside of your wedding vows. 

"Would you like to take off my dress?" You asked meekly, reaching for the laces on the back yourself. 

His face hardened almost unnoticeably. It was very dark in the room, but you could still make out his expressions--deciphering them was another task entirely beyond you. 

"Aye. I would, actually." He spoke lowly. "Let's get this over with." He stepped quickly over to you, and you tried not to flinch. Your face almost collided with his chest plate as his hands made quick work on the dress at your back. A shiver ran down your spine at the closeness and you closed your eyes. Suddenly you felt him ball the fabric at your sides in his fist, he growled and tore the dress open. The sound of it ripping sent a shock wave through you and you gasped, hands coming up instinctively onto his hands to stop him. You looked up at him through your lashes in fear. ~My God, he IS rough.~

Your hands did nothing to stop him as he tore the dress down your sides, leaving you in your underclothes. 

"Shut up," he said gruffly. You stood in your sheer garment and your body tensed. He picked you up and threw you onto the bed. You yelped at this and finally felt the familiar prickling in our eyes. 

"Please" You begged for nothing. 

"Shut up, I said." He stood at the edge of the bed and looked only at your face. "Take that off." He ordered, and you dared not disobey. You pulled the dress off over your head and covered your breasts instinctively with your arms. Sandor Clegane, however, still, made no apparent effort to see your exposed body. 

Instead, he took the armor off of his arms and withdrew his sword from its keep at his waist. Your mouth opened in terror. 

He's going to kill me. He climbed onto the bed with you and grabbed the underdress you had discarded nearby. Then he surprised you again, taking his sword to his own forearm and cutting the top of it. You gasped as he started to poor blood. Your gentleness took over your confusion and fear and you reached out to him to try to stop the bleeding. He growled at you viciously and you retreated your hands. You watched him from the edge of the bed. He directed his blood flow to the crotch of your dress, and the proceeded to smear it around the bed. Your heart had never beat so fast, and you felt faint. 

He tossed your clothes aside and covered his wound, walking to the bathroom to wash it off. Your chest heaved, repeating the scene in your mind. 

~That was not sex.~

"W-What the hell was that?" You called out, still frozen on the bed. 

"Don't worry, girl. That's the most action you'll be getting from me."

You frowned; confusion only intensified. "B-But why?" You begged. 

He walked around the corner, revealing himself again. "You are a virgin, aren't you?" He asked, as though you were dumb. Perhaps you were dumb. "Ah hell, it doesn't matter. You'd bleed from ME even if you were a well-trained whore." 

He blew out snot onto the floor and proceeded to take the rest of his armor off in the bathroom. Your heartbeat steadily slowed to a somewhat normal pace. 

"They'll be coming in the morning to check the sheets. To see what all I've done to you." He said casually. 

"You won't touch me?" Your voice was still thick with apprehension. 

The Hound scoffed and sneered. "You think I want to?"

You blushed and covered yourself again as he finally looked you up and down. 

"Maybe I ought to..." He surprised you, and a lump formed in your throat. He approached slowly. Now that his armor was removed you could see him in his plain clothes; see and smell the sweat under his arms. The musk that emanated off of a man after a long day. You trembled and closed yourself up as much as you could without cowering. "Come here, girl." He mumbled and grabbed your ankle, pulling it toward him. You shouted weakly and slapped him, though he didn't flinch a bit. 

He was on top of you in an instant, legs closed in tight around your hips as he took both of your wrists easily in one of his own. He raised and pinned them up above your head on the bed and you whimpered, his face close to yours. The pace of your heart quickened again as you squirmed beneath him, but you did not yell, did not cry. He looked down at you, grip becoming bruising on your wrists. You moaned in pain, and he scrunched his face up at the sight of you. 

"Look at me, bitch!" He demanded, a bit of spit flying from his mouth onto yours. 

"I am!" You called back, eyes locked onto his face. He took your throat in his other hand while the rest of his body kept you powerless against him. 

"What do you see?!" His voice was bellowing, and his eyes glared down at you. "A monster--"

"My Husband!" You answered, simultaneously. His hard expression broke and his grip on your neck loosened, though truthfully it wasn't tight to begin with. He pulled himself back from you a bit, slowly, and his eyes left yours to drift over the sheets. "I know you don't know me, don't like me. Hurt me if you have to! But you're my husband now, the only man I'll ever have, and I intend to make the best of it..."

His face twisted into a grimace and his hand on your throat tightened again, making it difficult to breathe. 

"I'm not your husband, you stupid little girl." He chided. "I'm your damnation! I am your life sentence, but you are not mine. Weak little girls don't last long around here, especially when they don't know when to shut the fuck up!" His words were harsh, but his voice was low, like he didn't want anyone else to hear but you. 

Your eyes studied his face as he let you go. He got off of you quickly and sat at the side of the bed. You stayed laying down for a while, silently counting your blessings. 

"If you are a monster, why did you hurt yourself instead of me?" You couldn't hold it in any longer. "Monsters don't know sacrifice..."

He side-eyed you, breathing through his mouth like a true brute. You sat up, rubbing your wrists together to soothe them. "You don't want to hurt me."

"You want me to hurt you MORE, is that it? You crazy, stupid, fucking cunt." He shook his head. 

"I don't want more pain... But, am I..." You looked down at yourself, then residing to cover yourself with your underdress once again, as bloodied as it was. You were feeling incredibly insecure, something you weren't accustomed to. You turned heads, made men and women and children smile at just the sight of you, and even you yourself thought you were above average all dolled up for the big day. He made you feel ugly without saying a word. 

Imagine that. Someone deformed like him and a supposed beauty like you, joined in matrimony. And he will not touch you. Does not want to touch you. In that moment you felt so much smaller than he. You sighed, feeling more comfortable now that you were covered. You looked him in the eyes until he was staring back at you. 

"I am sorry that you are punished with me... I realize you also had no choice in this marriage, and well..." You trailed off, not even sure where you were going with this. "You have been kind. And dutiful, and loyal to your king in spite of the monstrous little shit that he is." You tested, seeing if he would hurt you further. Instead, you saw the smallest crack of a smirk pull on his lips. You looked down abashedly. "I will do my best to be a good partner to you, in whatever capacity you need me..."

He said nothing for the longest time, and you looked up at him once again, in curiosity. He was studying your face in the moonlight. "Are you quite fucking finished?" You nodded quickly. "You talk too much." He chided. 

You couldn't believe it. You breathed out a laugh and he rolled his eyes. He stood and pulled one of the fur blankets off of the bed. 

"Maybe try sleeping in the bed tonight instead of the room I shit in."

You blushed and furrowed your brows at him as he crouched down on the floor, smoothing out the blanket as if it were bedding. Your mouth gaped as he laid down on the floor, closing his eyes. 

"Ser, this is--" "My Lord. It's my lord, when people hear you talking to me, that's what you say. I'm not a ser and I never will be. I ain't no fucking knight..." He paused licking his lips. "But now I'm your husband. To Joffrey and everyone else in the Red Keep, that's what I am. In this room, with me, you can speak freely. Call me what I am. A dog." You leaned over the bed, studying him as he spoke with his eyes closed. He looked so vulnerable down there. "Just don't go on and on." He chided again. 

"Get some sleep. I won't touch ya."

You wanted to speak, but did not know what to say. He rolled over anyways, his back towards you. Finally, you resolved to lie on your back. You closed your eyes and truly believed he would not touch you. You had no fear of it throughout the night. 

The strangest thing, however, was your desire for it. Your dreams that night twisted reality.

~ You were back in that bed, Sandor on top of you, barking down in his usual dog way. Wrists in his grasp, breathing controlled by his pressure on your throat. Your mind, however, changed his form to sink his mouth down onto yours. He swallowed your moans with his kisses and his hand went from your throat to your pert breasts. He squeezed and groaned into your mouth. Finally, he released your hands, and they went straight to his hair, pressing his kiss even harder into yours. "Call me husband again!" He growled when he pulled away, string of saliva connecting you. ~

"Lady Clegane, are you hurt badly?" Anna's voice woke you and you sat up quickly in bed. You watched her rush over to your bedside, and you nearly warned her to avoid stepping on Sandor, but you quickly realized his blanket was back on the bed and he was nowhere to be found. 

"Hmm, what?" You asked, still confused. 

"You were whimpering in your sleep!" Anna explained, looking over you. She gasped lightly at the sight of your neck. "Oh my lady, I am so sorry." She grabbed your hands and slowly led you to the bathroom, where you saw a tub steaming. "It's always the worst the first time, remember. But boy, he really did a number on you." She lifted the dress up over your head slowly, leaving you naked. "I'll launder these with the sheets, My Lady." 

You watched her carry your bloody dress away and found yourself in the broken mirror again. You saw the bruising around your neck and almost felt a thrill. To everyone else, your husband had set up quite the convincing show, and yet he kept your dignity intact. As you slipped into the bath and Anna droned on about the day, trying to distract you, you wondered if Sandor Clegane would ever touch you in the true ways husbands touch their wives. You wondered deeper, why you suddenly wanted him to.

[milla-frenchy]

The hounds of hell 2

Written with @aurorawritestoescape

4k2 | Javier Peña x fem reader x Steve Murphy | ao3 Summary: when you get reminded of the night you spent with Steve and Javi, you can’t help but come for more Warnings: 18+ mdni. semi public sex, masturbation (f/m), oral (f/m), threesome, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, degradation, piv, cum eating, creampies. No age specified

a/n: this is a contribution to the boyd-a-thon event for PCRF @toxicanonymity 🖤🐨

Kate's masterlist | My masterlist Part 1 | series masterlist

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For several days, you wondered what exactly had happened that night. You had fragments of memories, you knew they had fucked you, but without remembering all the details.

Part of you resented them for manipulating you, making you feel like you could trust them. Another part thought that you had been way too naive. And the last part made you touch yourself every single night, thinking of them.

A few weeks later, you finally went back to that bar, even if you didn’t know how you would react if you saw them. But they weren't there that night, nor the other ones. So you danced, drank, met people, other men. You had sex with some of them, but never got the thrill you’d felt that night, never had the thought that had struck you the next day -“it was the best fucking of my life.”

It was Saturday night and you were dancing, twirling, enjoying yourself in a crowd of people. Two hands rested on your hips, and you froze when you heard “hey, baby”, soft lips against your ear. You turned around, and faced Steve’s blue eyes, his self-confident smile, his blonde hair. It was slightly longer than the last time, messier.

“Don’t call me that, and fuck off.” The lack of memories of that night instantly made you act in a bitter and defensive way.

He pulled back and raised his hands, as if to say “ok, whatever you want.”

You contemplated leaving, but you convinced yourself that you didn’t have to. He could go if he wanted, but you’d stay. You bottomed a shot at the bar and then danced again. He seemed to have left. Later, you went into the bathroom, and as the door was closing, Steve slipped in and locked it. 

“What the fuck?”

You barely had time to finish your sentence when he approached you, smiling. Not a mean or provocative smile. A smile that meant “I know you want it.” Fuck, did you want it? He already managed to make you doubt yourself.

His hands were on your hips and he tried to kiss you. You turned your head to the side, swerving him, and said “No, stop.” He looked at you and gave you that smile again. He had so much self confidence that it was indecent. He kissed your cheek, then moved down to your neck that he covered with soft, hot kisses, making your eyes roll back.

“Come on, baby, let me kiss you.”

He moved back up to your lips and just before kissing you, he looked deep in your eyes for a few seconds. You got lost in his gaze. When he pressed his lips to yours, you felt almost all your doubts disappear and you stopped pushing him away. His tongue was already brushing against your lips, as if he was asking for permission to slide it in. You didn't keep him waiting long. In a moment, your tongue was swirling against his. He moaned into your mouth, and you felt yourself gush. His hands shifted from your cheeks, to your breasts, then your hips. They brushed against your body, your dress, and you couldn't help but roll your hips towards him.

“Yeah…You want this cock, beautiful? Just like that night?”, he said, his forehead pressed against yours, so close that you could smell his minty breath.

“No…no, I don’t. Can’t even remember what you two had done to me.”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, staring at you with narrowed eyes. You shook your head. 

“Lemme help you”, he smirked and slipped his hand between your thighs, pulled up your dress and caressed your folds through your panties.

“Damn…seems like your cunt ain’t forgot, baby…she’s already soaked.”

He kneeled and pulled down your panties, looking at your pussy for a few seconds before glancing up at you. You bit your lower lip, waiting for him to place his lips on you, there, in this dark bathroom. But he smiled and stood up, covered his thumb with your slick, and brought it to your clit. He rubbed it gently, while your eyes were locked, your breathing speeding up with every second. Keeping his thumb on your clit, he pushed two fingers in your pussy, making you moan. You rolled your hips towards his fingers, fucking yourself on them. You grabbed his shirt to hide your face, nuzzling his neck, being ashamed of breaking so easily for him. 

“Fuck…I’m gonna…”

“Yeah, baby, I know. Come on my fingers, clench ‘em again. Even faster than in the car, fuck.”

He pressed his crotch against your hip, and you could feel his bulge. You knew he loved to show how hard he could be, how big his dick was. “Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, just before you came. He let you ride out your orgasm, his thumb resting on your clit, his fingers still buried inside you. Then he slowly removed them from your dripping cunt and licked them one by one, not taking his eyes off you and added “I remember everythin’, baby.”

Flashbacks started to come back to you. You saw yourself coming on their fingers, their tongues, their cocks. 

Steve started backing up until he leaned against the opposite wall, less than four feet from you, and you watched him unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. He spat in his hand and started slowly jerking off in front of you.

“Show me your pussy, baby. Lemme see her.”

His words were a melody you didn't want to stop. You did like he asked, pulling up your dress for him. Your panties were still around your ankles. You bunched up the fabric in your fists, and held it around your hips. With your pussy offered to his view, his wrist began speeding up.

“Touch yourself a little. Yeah, just like that, shit…” Your clit was still throbbing under your fingers but you didn't want to stop. You wanted to see him cum. "Still sensitive baby? Yeah, bet ya are, came hard for me." You nodded, pushed a finger into your core and then brought it to your lips, tasting your wetness. He was jacking off his shaft fast now. “Shit. You’re so fuckin' hot. Ya like that little pussy juice? Yeah, I like it too…fuck…fuck…oh shiiiiit.”

His cum spurted out, some of it landing on the ground, and some of it onto his clenched fist. “Damn, you’re a naughty thing. And you ain't even drunk, baby…” he laughed, groaning, milking his cock to the very last drop. And he smirked, as his eyes sparkled.

He wiped his hand, moved closer to you, tucking his cock back in his pants, gave you a piece of paper and whispered in your ear, “Be at this address, tomorrow at 6pm. Javi and I will give it to ya good, if you’re ready for part 2.”

He wrapped his big hands around your neck in the most gentle way, and gave you a languid kiss which made your head spin. When he walked out of the bathroom, your pussy was clenching desperately, so you locked the door behind him, and got off a second time. 

You had some doubts about coming to meet Steve and Javi but they were overshadowed by the need to be used by the men again. 

Flashbacks of the night spent with them began driving you insane with lust. Especially after Steve’s skillful fingers coaxed a hardest climax out of you in the bar bathroom. 

So the next day you went to Javi’s place. When Steve opened the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you and gently kissed your cheek. 

“Here’s my baby,” he whispered in your ear, making your skin erupt in goosebumps. He led you to the living room where you found Javi sitting in an armchair. He nodded and gave you a little smile. Your clit twitched when his dark eyes glided up and down your body.  

“Want a drink?” Steve asked, when you sat down on the couch. You agreed to have a beer and after getting it, he joined you. His hand was immediately on your naked thigh, lips tracing paths along your neck. Your core was buzzing with the anticipation of the night and you moaned when Steve’s hand slithered up to your heated center. 

“Damn, Javi, our girl ain’t wearing any panties,” Steve said, not tearing his blown eyes from yours. 

“Putita, (little slut),” you heard Javi mumble. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” Your breath hitched when Steve’s thumb slipped between your folds and gently rubbed your hardening clit. 

You moaned his name and his lips brushed yours as he began caressing your bud with feather light strokes. He was playing with you, winding up your arousal more and more until you were nothing but a trembling needy mess under his touch. 

“Please…,” you whined and Javi chuckled. 

“What do you need, baby?” Steve asked, his eyes finding yours while he was torturing you with his soft caress. 

Javi leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and said, “Our little slut needs what she came for, Steve. To get fucked. Right, Hermosa?” You looked into his eyes and nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“Say it, beautiful,” Steve whispered, pulling his hand away from your pussy and making you whine with need. 

You didn’t care that it felt humiliating. On the contrary the fact that they had such power over you was turning you on even more. You’d do anything to be used by them at that moment. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “Please, fuck me.”

Javi smirked, adjusting his bulge, and Steve kissed your cheek before getting up, pulling you up on your feet and then lying down on the floor along the couch. 

“C’mere, baby. Sit on my face,” he said, motioning for you to straddle him with his hands. You looked at Javi and he got up and stood behind you, his hands on your waist,  “Don’t be shy, cariño, Steve’s gonna make you feel real good.” You felt his hands pulling up your dress until he slipped it off your body completely. Now you were absolutely naked in a room with two fully clothed men. 

Steve moaned at the sight of you, “Fuck, c’mon, beautiful. Be a good girl and let me taste this sweet pussy.” 

You bit your lip and kneeled down over Steve’s face. Javi sat on the couch and you saw him unzipping his jeans. You got mesmerized when he took his gorgeous cock out but suddenly Steve’s hands grabbed your hips and he pulled you down on his face. You felt his soft lips latch onto your throbbing pussy and whimpered when his tongue slid between your folds. He slowly licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, and began sucking on the bud making you arch your back and flutter your eyes shut.  

“Look at this little whore, Steve. There was no need to get her drunk that night. ‘m sure she’d have jumped at the chance to be fucked by us.”

Steve hummed against your heat and the vibrations sent a new wave of pleasure through your body.

“More, Steve, please,” you pleaded, clenching his blond hair with your fist and rolling your hips getting desperate for a release. 

You looked down and saw his eyes glint with mischief. Steve gave you a wink, pushed your folds apart with his fingers and flattened his tongue against your blooming pussy. He rubbed your clit and then slid down to lap at your crying hole. 

“She’s sweet, yeah?” Javi asked Steve, watching him devour your cunt while his big hand was slowly sliding up and down his weeping cock. You licked your lips throwing a glance at it and Javi noticed. 

“I think putita wants to suck on something big and juicy. Don’t you, cariño?” He asked as he got up and stood next to Steve and you. His cock bobbed in front of your face. Javi took it in his hand at the base and you looked up at him. He was towering over you, your eyes hazy with the pleasure Steve was giving you. Javi cupped your cheek and you purred into his touch. 

“Open up, putita,” he said gently as his fingers pinched your chin and pulled it down, opening your mouth. 

His cock was soft and hot on your tongue and you began slowly pleasuring him. You gently sucked on the tip first and then took him deeper, until it reached the back of your throat. 

“Oh, I love this mouth,” Javi breathed out, tilting his head back. But soon his eyes were cast down again and he watched you work his cock and Steve devour your glistening pussy. 

The man between your legs was relentlessly licking at your cunt, slurping and groaning against your center. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the cock in your mouth and you kept pausing and just drooling around Javi’s stiff length. 

“Fuck, Steve, what are you doing to her down there? She can’t suck my cock right, got too pleasure-dumb.”

Steve chuckled against your clit and you moaned loudly around Javi’s member. 

“Am I eating you well, baby?” Steve asked parting from your pussy for a second and slightly biting your inner thigh. You glanced up at Javi, eyes glossy and blown. 

“Oh, putita’s gone, Steve,” Javi laughed at your state and added, “I’ll have to do everything myself then.”

With that he took your head between his hands and started thrusting his hot cock into your mouth. He was gentle at first but the deeper he pushed his length into you, the rougher he was getting. Soon he was fucking your mouth in earnest, making you drool and gasp for air every chance he granted you, while Steve was bringing you close to the climax. 

Javi dipped his cock into your throat as Steve swirled your clit with his tongue and you came undone, drowning Steve’s mouth with your slick and moaning loudly around Javi’s member.

“Oh, cariño, your mouth is heaven but I need to last,” Javi groaned, pulling you off his cock, “let’s get her to bed, Steve.”

“Lie down, and spread your legs for me,” you heard Steve command as soon as you stepped into the bedroom. 

You got on the bed and spread them slightly, feeling shy.

“Spread them more. Show me that wet pussy.”

You spread your thighs further.

“I said more, baby.”

This time you used your fingers and parted your folds. You felt both uncomfortable with their predatory attitude and horny at the idea of what they were going to do to you next. They made no secret of their desire and hunger for you. You felt like you were leaking onto the sheets. Steve looked at you like at a piece of meat, his swollen cock in his hand, precum leaking.

“You see that, Javi?”

“Hard to miss it, she's dripping,” the man answered, stroking his cock lazily. “I love when they ruin my sheets. Come on, give her what she wants. Your cock. Right, Hermosa?”

You noded.

“Say it.”

“I…want your cock”, you said, looking at Steve only, that time.

He lay down between your legs, spread them with his knees, and slid his tip between your folds, one hand resting on your cheek.

“You’re gonna take this cock like a good girl?”

“Yeah…”

He thrust in slightly making you whimper, and your hands squeezed his biceps.

“Tell me how much you wanna get fucked.”

“I…I want you two to fuck me. Please”, you begged. “I can't stop thinking about it.”

“Yeah? Did you touch yourself, thinking about our cocks?”

“Yeah, a few times.”

“Putita”, Javi hissed through his teeth.

Steve kept thrusting in slowly, his hand holding your chin so you wouldn’t take your eyes off him while his thick cock was spreading your folds almost painfully, his other hand on your hip as leverage.

“Oh fuck…”

“Yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl.”

“I’m so fuckin’ hard. Blow me again, let’s use more of your holes.”

Javi slipped his tip in your mouth and you eagerly welcomed it. You didn't recognize yourself. You felt like only your senses were directing you, as you let Javi fuck your mouth, and Steve your cunt.

“Mierda, look at that slut. Can’t believe she came back for more.”

“Yeah, well…we fucked her good. And we’re doing it again. Look at you taking these cocks, baby…” Steve groaned, bottoming out. Your fingers dug into his flesh. Javi’s cock pushed into your throat just as Steve’s member was thrust in deep inside your core. You moaned softly, as much as Javi's cock would allow you to. Then he pulled back, leaving only the tip in your mouth.

“Lick the tip, Hermosa. I want you to taste me in your mouth, before I fill up your pussy.”

You kept sucking him, his precum flowing down  your throat. “Damn, you’re a natural…one day, I’ll fill that throat too. But not today. Today we’re gonna fill your cunt and make you scream on our cocks.”

He was fucking your mouth again, slowly. You realized he was doing it at the same pace as Steve was fucking your pussy.

“Damn, I can see your dick in her throat, Javi.”

And Steve kissed your neck, there. Fuck, that was hot. They complemented it other well, like they had been fucking girls together for a long time. You wondered how many they had fucked before you. If they had fucked anyone else since that night.

“Fuck the side of her mouth Javi. Wanna see more.”

You looked up and saw Javi’s smirk as he did what Steve asked. Steve brushed his nose against your cheek, then placed his lips on it. Javi's cock created a bump that Steve was bound to feel under his lips.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you though and moaned. 

Steve continued to slowly thrust in your pussy. He was brushing against your g spot with every stroke and you felt your orgasm building.

Javi pulled out his cock that was glistening with your saliva and sat in the chair next to the bed. “Two cocks slut”, he mumbled, thighs spread wide, his cock hard and weeping. He was watching Steve fuck you and a smirk didn't leave his face. He took his balls in his hand and squeezed them. 

“She’s taking it good, damn,” Steve said. 

“Yeah,” you whimpered.  

“Oh…I ain’t talking about you, baby…I’m talking about her”, he replied, pulling away from you to point his chin at your pussy.

You cheeks started burning when you heard him.

“You’re gonna take our cum, Hermosa? You’re gonna let us fill you up?”

“Yeah, I want it.”

Steve turned your face towards him after gently grasping your chin between his fingers.

“You’re gonna look at me, baby, when you’re coming on my cock. Want to see your eyes roll back. Ok?"

You nodded. Your moans filled the room, barely drowned out by the sound of the bodies slapping against each other and your wetness around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel her pussy squeezing me…she’s gonna come. Come on, beautiful, yeah, just like that.”

Javi stood up and moved closer to the bed. “Can’t wait to stuff you too.”

Their words made you explode on Steve’s cock who grunted louder “oh fuck, fuck! She’s choking me so hard, man…I can’t…fuck” as he came deep inside your pussy, his eyes staring into yours.

You were feeling Steve’s cum fill you to the brim and spill out of your hole. You looked deep into his eyes and then glanced down at his mouth. In a second he kissed you, slowly and gently, his cock still twitching inside your overflowing pussy and you made out until you heard Javi’s velvety voice,

“My turn, lovebirds.”

Steve’s lips left yours and he gave you a warm smile before pulling out and getting off you. He sat in the chair and took the cigarette that Javi had left still burning in the ashtray. 

Javi soon took his place between your thighs which made you feel like a fuck doll again. Not that you minded, you had come to be used by them and that’s what they were doing. 

So you welcomed Javi’s stiff cock as soon as it nudged your stretched hole and almost pierced yourself on it. Javi moaned when his length slid inside your sloppy core easily, like a hot knife through butter. 

“Damn, Steve, she’s full of you. So wet and warm.”

As soon as he made one thrust, you heard your pussy squelch with all the cum inside and you averted your eyes from Javi to Steve. 

“Oh, are you embarrassed, nuestra putita? (Our little slut). No shame in being a cum dumpster for a good man. Or two good men,” he chuckled and Steve laughed. 

Your cheeks were burning but his words made you clench hard on his cock which didn’t go unnoticed by Javi and he continued, “So you’re gonna take it-”, he thrust in hard and slowly retraced his cock,”-like a good girl,” he groaned with another rough stroke to your pussy. 

Then with one hand on the back of your neck and the other gripping your hip he started pounding into you. His piercing eyes on you, he watched your face twist with pleasure. 

“You’re gonna come again, hermosa,” he said without a shade of question in his tone. 

He got up on his knees, not pulling out, and continued fucking you. 

You glanced at Steve who was still smoking in the chair, his big cock in his veiny hand. 

Javi’s tip hit your cervix and you whimpered. 

“You know, baby,” Steve said after taking another drag, “fucking you is the best, but watching you getting railed is a very close second.”

Then he put out the cigarette and walked up to the bed. He smiled at you and then his gaze slid down your sweaty, heated body to the spot where Javi’s cock was plunging in and out of your crying pussy. 

“Look at your creamy soaked cock, Javi,” Steve murmured and gave himself a few strokes. He was already hard again.

Javi just growled in response, probably concentrated on not blowing his load just yet. 

Your gaze was darting between Javi’s pleasured face and Steve’s big hand wrapped around his member and you licked your lips when a drop of precum beaded on the tip. 

“Already thirsty, beautiful?” Steve murmured, coming up to your head. “Lucky for you, I’m hard again.”

He put one knee on the bed bringing his cock closer to your face and you lifted yourself on your elbows to reach it with your mouth. You didn’t understand why you were so hungry for them both but the desire was leading you relentlessly. You wanted your every hole to be plugged by them, ruined by them and were ready to give them all of you. 

So you took Steve in your mouth and looking up into his blue eyes let him fuck your throat. He was careful, more gentle than Javi and you reveled in ecstasy watching his stomach heave, eyes get darker because of you. 

Soon Javi’s cock made your pussy contract around him and you started coming. Steve, almost sent over the edge by your whimpers, pulled you off and moved lower on the bed pointing his cock at your lower belly. 

“Aahh,” he moaned and his cock began spurting his pearly cum over your body. The load landed on your belly, mound and puffy folds and Steve stroked his cock till the last drop was on you.  

You brought your fingers there and they danced over his warm seed, spreading it over your skin, gently caressing your clit using it as lube. 

The sight of you playing with Steve’s cum made Javi groan and he started erupting inside you adding his cum to Steve’s. 

Steve plopped on the bed next to you looking satiated while Javi’s cock was still pulsating in your pussy. 

“Our good girl,” Steve whispered in your ear and tilted your head to kiss you. You were still making out when Javi pulled out his cock. 

“Clean me up, Hermosa.”

You nodded and he walked on his knees up the bed, until your head was between his thighs. You lifted up your torso and licked all the salty cum off his softening cock. 

“Balls too, sweetheart,” Steve whispered and you followed the command, feeling your pussy tingle again. 

When Javi’s cock and sack were clean you slumped down on the bed and Javi joined you two with a cigarette between his lips. 

“Thank you, beautiful,” Steve said before kissing you. 

“Eres inceíble,”(you’re amazing) Javi praised you before taking a drag. You smiled at him, spent and satisfied, and then turned to Steve. 

“C’mere, baby,” he told you and pulled you into his big arms. You two soon fell asleep, your head on his shoulder, and when Javi finished his cigarette he cuddled up to you from behind. That was the first night you slept with them until the morning. 

*******************

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[ghosts-cant-sleep]

unrequited love with male reader having feelings for Leon but Leon has feelings for Ada

i've hoarded your name in my mouth for months

leon kennedy [re4] x male! reader warnings: yearnmaxxing, mc is awkwardly put into a pre-existing scene but its okay but the intention is for you to feel uncomfortable, i listened to a lot of kimya dawson while writing this. so. notes: anon you single handedly found every single trigger word in my brain, i owe you all my worldly belongings

fem dni

"Who was she?" His voice scratched against his throat, creating an awkward, unpleasant sound, mouth dry and weak with lack of use. At this point, [Name] was just begging to have his feelings hurt.

But he couldn't keep his focus in check. Like a thirsty hound in sweltering heat, eyeing its bowl of water, Leon sat right across from him. Their desks shoved together, wires of their respective computers entangling themselves, stuffed in the space between them.

Leon's eyes are reluctant to meet [Name]'s, his chin rising before his gaze catches up. The warmth from the desklamp and the blinding blue light from his computer meet on the planes of Leon's face like a painting. They catch in his hair, casting it in it's hues as tousled locs fall over his brow, highlight the contours of his cheeks, deepen the creases beneath his eyes while his brows pinch together. He considers the question for a moment, pen stilling mid letter. "She...?"

[Name]'s pen anxiously rolls between his fingers, palms growing clammy, making his skin feel sticky. He wanted to take the question back as soon as his eyes met Leon's. He didn't mean it, he didnt really want to know, but the question had plaqued mind for weeks now. He didn't care how badly the answer would hurt him. He just needed an answer.

"Uhm, like that woman, I mean. The, uh, the one from Spain." Dread swells in his throat. He tries to clear it with a dry cough. His hands slip beneath the table in a way he hopes is casual, palms drying themselves against his jeans.

He pretends not to remember her name, like it'd make the truth easier to bear, like the sound of her name falling of Leon's tongue hadn't been rotting in the back of his mind since.

He can't even begin to comprehend where his mind had managed to twist all of this the entire time. It made him feel sick, embarrassed to even think about. Leon was his coworker at the least and a good friend at most. How can a single man manage to be that delusional? Twisting every little meaningless moment into a sign, a glimmer of hope for whatever deluded rom-com he thought this was.

But god, he really swore sometime that he could feel it-- really feel it.

During late nights just like this, catching up on whatever boring bureaucratic paperwork their missions came with, alone in a dimly lit office, muttering to each other like every word that left their tounge was some grave secret, leaning over desks, smiling like fools, nearly nose to nose.

"Oh."

Spain wasn't a mission either regarded fondly. They never spoke on it, not to anyone, not even to each other. Grotesque bodies twisted into horrid creatures better left to the imagination had burned itself into their brains. There was a unique sort of fear it'd conjured up in the pits of his stomach. That feeling came back every so often, waking him in a cold sweat, a shriek of fear catching in his throat as he meets his empty, desolate bedroom. It was a shit show.

"I mean, you don't have to like, tell me or anything-- I'm sorry for asking, it's not my place, I was just... I don't know."

Nauseating notions of love and affection had been harbored behind [Name]'s ribs. The lines of want and need blurred indefinitely whenever his eyes settled on Leon, whether it be the lines of his back as he moved, or the small grin he tried to force back to keep up whatever dorky 'cool guy shtick' he thought people fell for.

The impulse to let his thoughts be known, to scream and shout, to hum them through through a shakey melody, to sob them out into Leon's lap, grew stronger and stronger whenever [Name] felt the heat of Leon's body against his own. Fingers brushing together in a breath of a touch, bumping against each other as they walked, crammed together into whatever impossibly inconvenient vehicle they had at their disposal; knees knocking together, shoulders squished, broad back against chest.

And he nearly did let it all out. They'd been through many near death experiences together, yet this one was the breaking point. This one was the one that scared [Name] down to his bone.

Humid air and muggy water clung thick to his skin, sweat and lake dripping down the bridge of his nose as his hands clutched at the soggy fabric of Leon's shirt. His hair was dripping wet, a few shades darker, put cold as his head fell into [Name]'s lap. Blood violently hacked out seeped into the cracks of the blond's lips.

The boat they resided in swayed and rocked despite the earrie stillness of the water. Blood floated in clouds suspended in the water, surrounding them.

He'd dragged Leon's dead weight out of the flooding boat onto the rickety wooden platforms of the boathouse. The stentch of old, rotting fish surrounded them, yet most suffocatingly, the fear of what Leon was even going through, what he'd failed to let him in on.

[Name]'s hands stayed on Leon. An innocent hand on his chest, making sure it rises and falls, a gentle touch against the thin skin of his neck, a finger hovering over his top lip, feeling the shallow breath hit his skin.

And just like that, the second Leon came to, gasping for breath as his body lurched forward, was the same second [Name]'s mind decided it wouldn't do to hoard that aching yearn that rested heavy in his chest, like it was eating him from the inside out.

"It's fine," his tone feigns indifference, waving off [Name]'s uncertain blabbering with a wave of his hand, silencing him then and there like a well trained dog. His gaze leaves [Name] and settles back on the papers, but his pen doesn't move. "She's just a merc. Met her a few years back."

[Name] hums, fingers fiddling with the folds of his jeans stretched across his lap. He nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip so hard he almost draws blood. He was better than this. He was more mature than this. He wasn't still some lovesick school boy fixing to throw a fit. Right?

"Yeah, that makes sense." He sounds smaller now. "I dunno, I guess I just thought the two of you were close. Guess I was wrong...?"

"Hm."

Whatever 'plan' he had conceived while trudging their way through that village, letting it furthe waste away behind thick forest had died shortly thereafter. When he saw her.

In a castle acquainted midway between opulence and decay. It stood out in comparison to whatever humble community used to reside on the other side of its stone walls, one built from rudimentary inventions, or brick and wood, of community, of labor. The castles corridors were filled with death, twisting labyrinths covered in marble and gold.

There was a dread that followed him like out of time footsteps as his feet hit the cracked floors beneath him. He tried desperately to ignore it, but it hung over his head like an omen.

It was one he should've paid more attention to, one he shouldn't have pushed to the back of his attention-- focusing instead of the suits of armor that towered over him, on the distant sounds of metal squeaking against itself, on Leon.

In spite of it all, of failure risked at every turn available, of the thick smell of dust and cobwebs, of creaking floorboards, his heart sunk only whe his eyes settled on her.

"You can stop right there, Leon." The lul of her voice was cold, almost bored, but there was a playful fondness settled in her throat.

She was gorgeous. He hated it.

A red knit dress hugged the curves of her form, its ridges following down the line of her body, sleaves following through the elegant length of her arm, stopping just where her hand met her gun.

The leather of her glove squeaked as he grip tightened, the cold barrel brushing against the fabric of Leon's shirt as she stepped closer-- a warning, a tease.

"Wouldn't make me use this, would you?" The heel of her boots clicked against the hardwood. Her hair laid effortlessly perfect, brushing against the base of her neck. It looked soft, framing her face, skin dewy, and flushed. The depths of her eyes, dark and brooding, held Leon in place without even having to face her. the candles, flame flickering against her form, made her glow.

[Name] was offered no more than a glance. He stood there, frozen, foolishly more perturbed by the familiarity held in her voice than the gun she wielded. He was no threat to her. Wide-eyed, dejected puppy dog look he gave her was evidence enough.

Leon's eyes fluttered at the sound of her voice, a deep breath sucked in between his teeth, like he hadn't been able to breathe before he heard her voice-- or maybe it was her perfume in the air. The corners of his lips twitch, teasing a grin. "Well, after six years, that's a hell of a greeting, Ada."

Leon hissed out her name like he'd rather be rid of it, but it was an obvious farce. [Name] had grown to know very well the same lilt of fondness and longing that very clearly had wrapped their stubborn hands around Leon's neck. It was obvious, even in the tiniest ways.

It made him feel sick. He just stood there and watched, lips parted like he'd ever had something useful to say in the first place. He watched like an idiot while these two... Hell, he didn't even know.

It was utterly loathsome how well they fit together. When they spoke, when they moved, predicting every breath with practiced eased-- No, not even practiced, but something else, something worse, like second nature, like it was thoughtless. They just knew.

Each strike was just narrowly ducked beneath, leather squeeked beneath a calloused grip, a hand closing around her thin wrist, pulling her close, and empty threat of a blade against her neck, the same way her finger hadn't once grazed the trigger.

"Try using knives next time." Something about Leon's hand on her nearly set [Name] off right where he stood. Ot was firm but far from harsh or cruel. It was savoring, reverent, relieving to have her skin against his, even just like this.

"Not a bad move." A grin ghosts her features. Try as she might to fight it off, it settles beneath her skin, eyes crinkling, and [Name]'s sure her pulse beneagh his hand quickens the same way his always did. "Very smooth."

"So who are you working for this time?" Even Leon's own voice carries the weight of desire. Desire not like how [Name] yearned day and night, but like light tease, like flirty smiles, like foreplay.

"Oh, Leon," his name drips of her tongue like a poem, pain and reluctant covertness and heat all heard in the breath she sighed out. Her head lulls to the side, blinking in his gaze like a cat. The look they shared more than made up for what they'd lost in the six years, whatever the hell that was even supposed to mean. "You know I don't work and tell."

Everything else feels fuzzy.

At that moment, he felt as though the castle walls were crumbling in on him, burying him beneagh rubble and dust, the ground ready to fall beneath his feat and swallow him into the earth. He wished it did.

Something about that woman was easy to get suck in someone's head. Her voice, ao soft, so painfully sensual, striking down the center of his brain like ear bleeding static he wished would stop.

Even his own gaze couldn't stop from following her form out the window, her eyes meeting his in a fleeting glace of pity. Fucking pitty.

Was he really that obvious? How desperate he wanted Leon? Hell, how desperately he wanted to be her, just in that very second? Maybe, just maybe, if he were a girl just half as pretty as her, if he had her confidence, her shiny black hair, that voice, if he were here, then maybe Leon would want him back.

He feels like a child as he keeps a lump stuck down in his throat. It's almost painful. He doesn't trust himself to not speak, for his voice to stay steady, for his desperation to not make Itself known.

His jaw clenches as his teeth grind together. Neither of them deserved the senseless anger that reared it's ugly head inside his gut, but anger was easier to feel that disappointed. He braves himself a glance towards Leon.

Leon, who without a word, picks up his discarded gun off the floor, like nothing had even happened. Whose gaze first settles on the empty window, its framed panes swinging in the breeze, the [Name]'s, and there's nothing when they finally lock.

Quick as that, the realization dawns on him. All those late nights they spent together, hours stretching into the early morning were just work, all glances were just eyes aimlessly wondering in a need to cure boredom, touches, fingers brushing, shoulders knocking, all just mistakes, all fleeting moments were just that. Fleeting moments, not meant to extend past that brief second. They meant nothing.

Whatever sappy speech he'd prepared was stuffed back down his throat. He'd sooner die than hurt himself by entertaining the idea of him and Leon, so he clutched at his chest, feeling everything writhe beneath his skin, desperate, yearning, wanting. They clugged up his lungs, swollowed back like thick tar as they crept up his throat. He'd either suffer or allow them to die behind his mouth, drowning to silence himself, letting it weigh his body down further into the ground.

He couldn't help but be relieved for all the wrong sorts of reasons when that damned island finally went up in flames. It warmed the cast sea surrounding them now, at just the safe distance from the destruction.

That sluggish mess in his chest swelled and bubbled and screamed as he saw Leon. His hair caught the glow of the rising sun stretching its rays out behind the horizon , the water reflecting back in the grayish hues of his eyes, the sleep that pulled heavy at his lids, the bags beneath them, that reluctant look of relief. A tired grin played at his features, crooked teeth peaking out behind a crumpled smile.

Leon similarly peered over his shoulder, right back at [Name] and just... Looked.

[lazyjellyfish300]

Synopsis: you ask Shiu to adopt a dog. Luckily, Shiu understands happy wife= happy life.

Words: 901

CW: fluff and smoking, x FEM!READER

-------

"Shiu, darling?"

The white padded underbelly of your fuzzy slippers slide across the polished mahogany floors of your home, on your quest to find your dear husband.

You enter his study, not minding the curtain of blackened clouds that subsides with the fleeting glide of air from the opening door, greeting you with calming familiarity that wafted his prescence: cigarettes, black coffee, and cedar woodsy mixed with leather, revealing his sharp, pleasant face. 

"Dollface." He answers, the pet name falling off his tongue from habit as he extinguishes his cigarette. "How can I help you this morning?" 

You smile, arms folded across your stomach shrouded in the thin silk of your blush colored robe. "A favor, sweetheart." 

Shiu chuckles and leans back, adjusting his hips, manspreading his thighs as he leaned his right elbow on the arm of his chair, face perched between  his pointer and middle fingers as he cocked his head. 

"No such thing as just a "favor" when it comes to you, my dear." He sighs, but the subtle smile wrinkles around his deep brown eyes exudes nothing but his undying affection. 

"Let's hear it, love." 

"I want a puppy." You say plainly. 

Shiu cocks a brow. "A puppy?" He smirks. "I didn't see this one coming...." He brings his ankle across his knee. 

"Why do you need a puppy, Mrs. Kong? My fishes aren't enough?" 

He chuckles playfully in the direction of the large aquarium nestled between the bookshelves that reaches from the floor to the ceiling, the navy blue rippling subtly, haphazardly catching iridescent beams of light from the windowsill as the tropical fish contained within it dice gracefully through the the water. 

"I adore your fish, honey." You smile as his chin meets your belly and he gazes up at you, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "But there's a puppy at the shelter who really needs a home." 

"Oh?" His eyes soften. 

"Yeah, she's a six year old basset hound. She's white with the cutest little mocha patches on her face and droopy ears." 

Shiu smiles at the mental image of this charming mystery pet. "I'm no veterinarian, babe. But six years old in dog years ain't a puppy." 

"They're all puppies to me!" You pout, feigning offense. "Doesn't matter how old they are." 

Shiu smiles. "A six year old basset hound, eh?" He glances at his aquarium. "She won't try and attack the fish, will she?" 

"No, baby. I promise." You hum as you thoughtfully scratch the back of his neck. "She's very well behaved and docile. She'll just lay around the house and keep me company. If anything she'll just ignore them." 

"Will she?" Shiu hums as well, mimicking you earlier. "I don't know, doll..." 

"Please?" 

"Don't tell me you already-" 

"Stella." You say quickly. "I want to name her Stella." 

"Oh jeez." Shiu shakes his head. "Already named her. Don't tell me you've bought her outfits and the mutt is gonna sleep in our bed too..." 

You poke him with your elbow. "She's not a mutt she's a princess! And she needed sweaters, honey. It's almost winter. Don't want her to get cold." 

"Right, princess..." Shiu blows air between his lips. "She won't get cold, though doll, she's got fur, don't she?"

"But I want to spoil her." 

"Oh my..." Shiu rubs his face.

"She'll our baby until we have our own babies." 

"Babies?"

That grabbed Shiu's attention. "You wanna start trying already?" 

You laugh softly, throwing back your head. "Not just yet, sweetheart. We still need to travel South America, remember?" 

"Heh, like you would let me forget, doll..." Shiu smirks as his rough hands tease along the outlines of your thighs. 

"Please just say yes, darling?" 

Shiu just shakes his head, standing up, cradling your face in his hands, gazing at you like the sun on her flowers.

"Like I ever stood a chance, dollface." 

----

And so, your adorable new basset hound, Stella, came waddling across the threshold of your home not more than three hours later, Shiu carrying her new wardrobe and oversized bed that would eventually go largely unused, curling between you and Shiu in your shared master bed at night instead. 

Shiu supposes this newcomer wouldn't be such a bad thing, scratching her ears when he noticed she particularly liked laying on her belly right in front of the aquarium. Bored, beady eyes following the fish, ever so slowly, but posing no threat. Just observing in quiet solitude. 

"That's a good dog." 

----

Later, when Shiu sees you both enter the bedroom, he coughs frantically, his hand chaotically swiping the air in an effort to dissolve the lingering cigarette smoke as his face turned red, eyes watery. 

"You okay honey?" You asked him as you slipped into your side of the bed while he sputtered relentlessly. You hand him a glass of water on the nightstand and he takes it with a nod, catching his breath. "You know I don't care if you smoke, sweetheart." 

"I know... Thanks, doll." He nods his chin at Stella who makes her way up her personal staircase at the foot of your bed, plopping down on the maroon comforter like melted caramel vanilla ice cream. "Don't want her breathing the smoke." 

"Aww Shiu! You do care." 

"Of course I care, baby." He smiles as he brings you and Stella into his arms, bestowing you with a tender kiss. 

"My two beautiful girls."

[acapelladitty]

Captain Boomerang/Female Reader - PetPlay

Summary - Collared and kneeling, Digger is eager to show just how much of a pathetic and slobbering pup he truly is.

"Handsome little devil."

Offering the praise with a small smile, you glance down at Digger as he remains kneeling on all fours like a dog - his body as quick to follow instruction as it is to cause trouble which was definitely one of his most attractive traits. Naked as a babe, his tattooed frame splayed itself without shame – the auburn hair which scattered across his body looking unkempt, particularly around his cock where his pubic bush was in desperate need of a trim.

Surveying him like a prized hound, you lean forward in your chair as you tip the bottom of his chin up with your toe, forcing him to stare up at you from his submissive position.

"That said, it's weird to hear you shut the fuck up for so long. Hmm. Bark for me." You demand, pulling at his collar as you lean even further from your chair to loop your finger through the blue leather which sits tight around his throat.

He follows the demand instantly, his sharp barking being followed by a wolfish smile which showcases his teeth - slightly stained and crooked in places as he looks up at you expectantly, awaiting his praise for a job well done. Between his legs, his cock hangs hard and heavy - the mushroomed head shiny with pre-cum due to its continued denial. He loved this, loved being put in his place, and it was a role you were more than happy to fill for him as your cunt floods with your own arousal.

"Good boy." You purr, ruffling at his messy, russet hair with a casual hand. "Maybe you deserve a reward. What do you think?"

His body is quick in its attempt to rise, and you quickly stop him with your foot as you press down on his shoulder roughly to force him back to the floor.

"Tsk tsk. No rewards for a bad dog who tries to walk when he should be crawling. Stay on your knees and come here."

Heat flushes across his face, his crooked nose glinting due to the slight sweat which sits across the bridge of it.

"Oops." He whines, playing into his role as he bares his teeth with a playful edge.

"Crawl." You beckon him with a finger, spreading your thighs invitingly to show him the mess that he was responsible for. "And you can show me just what a slobbering pup you truly are as you enjoy your meal."

For a man on his knees, he makes some speed, and it catches you off guard as thick, calloused hands envelop your outer thighs and his fingers knead into the flesh there to secure a steady grip while his face buries itself in your aching cunt. The sudden onslaught of sensation is intense and your back arches off the back of the chair as his stubble scores its way along your inner thighs as his breath teases at your hole.

Without hesitation, he dives in and his tongue licks a sordid line up your slit - ensuring that not a single inch was neglected as his tongue brushes across your throbbing clit. The small bit of contact makes your thighs clench in his grip and you feel the chuckle of his amusement as he repeats the feat until you growl and pull him away due to the overstimulation.

It's a mess. His sloppy movements somehow possessing absolutely no finesse as he switches his attention between your hole, his tongue swirling and pushing into you as he tastes everything you have to offer, and your clit, his lips circling the ultra-sensitive bud and sucking it roughly into his mouth. Your hands are rough in his hair, pulling at the ruddy strands until he grunts in discomfort, but nothing seems to put him off as he drinks in your every moan like a starving man.

"Digger!" You cry out, toes curling in the air as you dig your heels into his exposed, heavily tattooed back. "Don't you fucking stop."

"Never, darlin'." A muffled response, one almost muted by your cunt as it remains roughly pressing into his face. "Y'know me, I eat like an animal. Caviar or cunt - it's all good for ol’ Digger."

Choosing to ignore that sentence, you jerk his head forwards to fully put his smart mouth to better use. Shuddering into his enthusiasm once again, you settle in for the long run as you know his stamina will see you a ruined, writhing mess before the session is out.

"And don't even think about pulling away until your lips are numb, and I can't remember how much of a fucking pain in my ass you are."

Blunt teeth threaten your most sensitive skin for a moment and the sheer cheek of him brings a smirk to your lips which is quick to disappear as he resumes his role as the most eager little hound in Gotham.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Unleashed

Bill Weasley x Reader

You decided to be a good partner and see your boyfriend Bill. You heard he was on vacation from Gringotts, and knew he would be at the beach side house. There was just one problem. The Goblins give him those vacations for more than just keeping his mental health strong. He had one at the end of every month, and the day you arrived was when the moon was out

18+, Dubious Consent ((Not really but respect people who aren’t into that!)) Breeding, Gender Neutral Anatomy Scratching, Biting, blood play, overstimulation uncanny valley, werewolf stuff in general, after care, disabled talk, crying, fluff

Commissions Open

“Oh Billy~!” You sung, as you stepped out of the fire place. You were so excited. Your boyfriend was on vacation, and that meant you could hound him with kisses and cuddles. As a Curse Breaker, he needed to make sure his mental health was strong and in check. Unless the curses consume him. That meant the Goblins made sure he got plenty of vacation days. Even a week off at the end of every month!

“Come on out you big ole dog. I know you are here.” You giggle, as you set your bag on the couch. Now where did your boyfriend go? You would hurry to the porch of the house. Leaning over the railing, and admiring the beautiful view. It was just stunning. The salt air against your skin, the cool water under the stars, oh it was like out of a fairy tale. Made you understand why he loved the beach so much.

“Oh to live here.” You sighed, as you looked to the sky. Admiring the clouds, as they rolled by. As they moved, you furrowed your brow. Was the moon full? You squinted, as you leaned over the railing more. Trying so hard to get a better view. As you did, there would suddenly be a warm presence behind you.

“There’s my Habibi.” You would hear, growled into your ear, as hands would grab at the railing. You were pinned against it, as you saw the clouds shift. The moon was full, and glimmering so vividly. Right against the water, and causing the world to be casted in a nearly blue glow. It’s a full moon, and your boyfriend had you pinned.

“Way to go, dumbass-“ You muttered to yourself. William wasn’t a real werewolf. Given his curse breaking job, he held an almost immunity of sorts. He wasn’t like his uncle Lupin. He didn’t have a proper transformation. He did have little habits, like eating raw meat. Just small things. He did get paranoid though. Always avoiding everyone when the moon was full. Seems like tonight will be a night to test some theories.

“You smell so good-“ He sighed, as he would nuzzle his scared up nose into your neck. His body grinding into yours, as he kept you trapped. You swore his skin seemed paler than normal, from looking at his hands. You did your best to turn your head, and his normally straight hair was in thick waves. As if fur that was dense around him. The way his eyes stared into you. Well, eye.

After his attack from Greyback, he lost a large amount of his face. Leaving his teeth exposed, and missing an eye. One that Uncle Moody replaced with one of his old ones. So the two brown eyes never quite matched. You didn’t find him ugly for having one eye, missing an eye lip, exposed teeth, or even how the scars cut into his hair line. You weren’t there just for his looks. He’s your Bill. Seems tonight you’ll be his trophy.

“You taste so good-“ He added on, as he ran his tongue across your neck. The way his working eye’s pupil was blown out. As if on some kind of drug, and you were the supplier. His body was just burning up so badly, as he held you tightly. That’s when it registered he was naked. You’ve seen such many times before, but now felt so different. Despite being the werewolf, this was still a vulnerable position he was in.

“You in there, Billy?” You asked, but not in fear. He was clearly showing signs you were mated, and he couldn’t infect you from the fact he wasn’t properly turned. You were never in real danger, and you knew this was beyond his control anyhow. You knew this would be something you would deal with. Every time the full moon was close, he always got more primal anyway. You were prepared, and never afraid. Seemed like he could smell your lack of fear, and that had him excited.

“Hm-?” He hardly recognized you were talking at all, as he was just grinding his crotch on your ass. Like the dog in heat that he was. “That answered that-“ You muttered, as you looked around. It was in a private area, sure, but you much rather no risk someone thinking you were being assaulted.

“Come here boy-! Come on-!” You whistled, as you quickly ducked under his arms. Just narrowly slipping out, and leaving him confused on where you went. He was quick to turn around, and watched as you started to take your top off. A means to lure him back into the house. Seemed to work beautifully, as he was quick to hurry back inside. Nearly tackling you down.

“WOAH WOAH-!” Hardly had another thought, before he was tearing your clothes off like paper. Did his nails get longer? You swore you could feel thin lines over your body already. Had a sting, but you knew he wasn’t trying to actually hurt you. It was just caught in the cross fire.

“Oh you are fiesty-“ You admit, as he was just devouring you. His tongue tracing over your chest, and drinking you in. You wondered if he was only acting like this because you were a couple. That because his mate showed up he went feral. You won’t lie, that made you feel really special. That even the wolf in his head was madly in love with you. Had you blushing more then the way his tongue felt so rough on your skin.

“I need you, so badly-“ He was panting already, as he was spreading your legs wide. You covered your mouth, as you looked up to him. You swore he looked like a god. The way the moon was casting around him, like some kind of wisp outline. The way the stars sparkled through his burning hair. Looking like the gods he’s talked about, when he used to live in Egypt. You were falling in love all over again.

“All mine. You are all mine.” He repeated, as his nails dug into your ankles. As if to mark you from head to toe. You were soon feeling the burn in your thighs, as he forced your legs towards you. Maybe taking up yoga with Luna was a smart idea, because wow was this pulling muscles you didn’t even know you had.

“All yours. I’m all yours, big boy.” You nodded, as that made your boyfriend give an eerie sight. With only half his face working, it made all his features so much more strange. How his smile was curled so high, and teeth so sharp. The way his working pupil was staring through you, as drool was dripping out of his exposed teeth. He was starving for you, and it was almost easy to forget there was a human inside of that devilish grin.

“And never forget it, Habibi.” He warned, before you suddenly felt his cock slam inside of you. It burned, and stretched you wide. Your head was spinning, as he was already snapping his hips into yours. Not leaving any room to breathe, as he had to make sure he breed you. If there wasn’t a way to knock you up, he’s gonna try anyway. The wolf in him didn’t care if it was possible or not. He just had to claim.

“Oh William-!” You moaned, as your fingers pulled at the carpet under you. Feeling how your legs were soon resting on his shoulders, as his own hands were tearing at the fur on the ground. Leaving deep lashes, as if the human in him was trying to make sure you weren’t in its war path. Bill was still in there, and you knew he was fighting. Maybe he shouldn’t.

“B-Billy….It’s ok-“ You begin, as you reached a hand up to his face. “I like this….I l-like it a lot.” You smiled, as you swore you saw something flicker in his working eye. Something human again. “Let it happen. Let go. I’ll be ok.” You hushed, as you traced his scars with your thumb. To try and let him finally let go. He’s constantly been holding back. He’s never been allowed to not be ok. He’s the eldest brother. He’s had to much weight on his shoulders. He deserves to let loose.

“Habibi….” His voice trailed, before you forced him to kiss you. To truly let him know you’ll be ok. Time seems to freeze, before he let himself go. He returned the kiss, before his claws were firm on your thighs. Sinking into the flesh, and leaving red lines. You whined, but were quickly cut off by the sharp smack of your hips.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ You couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering, as he was soon sinking his teeth into your neck. You weren’t dreaming it, his teeth did get sharper. He was truly treating you like a chew toy, and you didn’t mind. Your Billy was always so anxious about hurting you, but now he finally had an excuse to let go. You love his gentle side, but getting frisky is always adored.

“Oh William-“ You moaned his name, as he was fucking you into the floor. You swore he would break through, with how rough he was being. Might break your back, but you didn’t care. You were loving the mixture of pain and pleasure. How he would rub your nerves just right, whenever he bit into you to deep. As if his human half was fighting his wolf half.

“AH-! WILLIAM-!” Your head was thrown back, as you were quick to climax. Your body shaking, but he wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t going to stop until he was satisfied. How long would it take for him to feel release? You didn’t know. You just knew you were sobbing, as your body was trembling at the next climax already building up.

You didn’t know how many times you came, but it was all becoming a blur. Was just blood, sweat, and tears. And you were loving it. Just nothing but meat to satisfy. The bliss of turning your brain off, and just be nothing but owned by your lover. To be covered in markings, and showing anyone who saw you that you were off the market.

What finally brought you back to reality was the howl. He out right howled. You could feel your insides being pumped so full of his seed. You swore you came again from it. His voice was just echoing, as he had claimed you. Inside, and out. Was such a wonderful warmth. You felt so satisfied with it. Was making you fall asleep so peacefully. All to the nursing licks of your boyfriend.

You swore you hadn’t slept that good in ages. It was a hard sleep. A good long one, that had you feeling refreshed. If not for all the pains and aches in your body. That was what woke you up, compared to the summer sun light. Creeping in through the bedroom curtains. Seemed like someone tried to keep them closed, but it slipped through.

You, slowly, sat up. As you did, you could feel bandages all over you. Along with a sweet smell of flowers on the bedside table. You looked over, and saw that poor Bill was pampering you. Feeling so guilty from last night. Flowers, chocolates, sweets, little things that you enjoyed. Along with a little note.

“Sorry: William”

You chuckled, as you set the note aside. With the covers off, you looked yourself over. Every wound was patched, and you were covered in bruises and hickies. Made you a little giddy, you couldn’t lie. So many people would kill to have a werewolf boyfriend. You felt so smug, and wanted to proudly show them off. But first, William needed to be cared for.

After every full moon, he would suffer extreme muscle fatigue. His bones were literally breaking and re breaking after all. Your muscles don’t feel so good after that. Along with other issues. Chronic pain, exhaustion, and just over all trouble walking. It normally passes after a day or two. Hence why the goblins give him that week break. So he can recover. You even went as far as to pick up books about werewolves, and spoke to Uncle Lupin. You may not feel his pain, but you damn well will try and help.

“Willy-?” You called, as you were safe in a bath robe. There you found him. Barely awake, on the couch. His hair a mangled mess, and his body visibly throbbing. The muscle spasms were kicking in. Kicking in bad. You tsked, as you accioed a comb. Soon you were on the couch with him. Forcing him to sit up, and you would nurse at his hair.

“I-“ But you cut him off. “I already know what you are going to say, Mr. This is a disability. One that I know 100% about when I was going to date you. I knew what I was signing up for. I also could have very well floo my way out, or even attacked you with chains. Since you aren’t a full werewolf. We’ve been over this.” You kissed his cheek, as you would brush through his hair. A means to let him have some mercy.

“I love you. Disability or not. You just need a little extra help, now and again. That’s ok.” You reassured, as you began to braid his hair. That way it didn’t get tangled for a while. “Besides, I had fun.” You tease, as you laid on the couch. Forcing his head on your chest, as his legs would kick from the muscle spasms.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He asked, as he looked up. That big, beautiful, brown eye. So full of love. “By being you~” You reassured him, as you would rub over his shoulder. He was soon cuddling into you, as you both shared a lazy morning.

Least now you both knew what to do together next full moon. Have a few potions, a med kit, with a bottle of wine. That’s a date night for you two. Unconventional? Yes. Just right for you two? Damn right. He’s a Weasley. You really expected things to be normal? Normals boring anyway.

[thoughtsafterdark]

The Sun's Lover

Sometimes I gaze at myself in the mirror and my mind bends and buckles against warring thoughts and I wonder if I was meant for more.

Sometimes I feel a breeze in the back of my mind

Sparks of errant electricity

A brief glimpse into something other, something hidden

Something on the tip of my tongue and the edge of my olfactory bulb

Colours I can smell, feelings I can hear, thoughts that have no shape or form. Older than my life, than language, than war. Certainties that tease and caress and seduce but leave me dry and gasping like incubi in my sleep.

That leave my tongue sloppy and lazy like tar black molasses squelching between teeth

Thoughts that taste of longer tongues and darker mouths and sharper teeth on a planet circling twin red dwarves, of methane marshes and hexagonal prism eyes that sparkle like blood red rubies

Words slurring together and thoughts hazy as they come back down to a body that feels paper thin and husky like maple seeds in the wind

I think of the wrath that dances just beneath my skin

The bile that churns and rushes to my face, eyes like daggers, lips fixed in a snarl at the slightest insult

I think of my pride, that squirming bag of worms that lights fires in my blood and how it wars with my desperate craving to belong

I watch them from the safety of my window like a xenoanthropologist. How they love and laugh and touch eachother. How they slide against one another like well oiled gears in a way I have never been able to. I think of the eldritch way in which I care, with a gaping maw and drooling lips, with twirling rings of eyes and 6 pairs of wings, with claws that burrow deeper and squeeze tighter the harder they try to leave me.

And I think to myself, girlhood is not so much different to godhood. A self-satisfres ied sadistic existence hiding a crushing singularity of loneliness, topped with pettiness and boredom.

I wish you would come to me in my waking hours and take me away from this place

Steal and hide me away in palaces of sand and moonstone

I can put up a good fight. I’ll run and scream and beg you to stop, make sure to drag out the thrill of the chase. Isn’t that what pretty nymphs are for?

I see my bitterness reflected in the ozone blue of your eyes, the hardness and cruelty shot through with marble strands of gold

Your skin is a thrumming pool of pure power, an atomic bomb bound in sinew and nucleic acids, ready to turn me to a pillar of salt

Your fingers coax the most bittersweet of melodies, leaping and thrumming from string to string like acrobats. They say the best musicians make the instruments sing, but I’ve seen you make lyres moan and weep

I remember the old stories, of girls turned to laurel trees, of wounded pride and donkeys ears. I remember the blood of the Myrmidon spilled outside the walks of Illium. I know you are a wrathful, self-righteous whore, with greedy fingers that leave bruises  in the dips of hips and a silver tongue to match. Your fathers essence is strong in you, stronger even than it is in him. Nuclear fusion and supernovae to his ion and electron arcs. What is a thunderbolt in the face of the sun’s core?

That is how I know you would understand, I know you would thumb at that gaping festering wound inside my heart and bring me corpses instead of flowers. A plague in just the right place, so they can die slowly, in agony. Nuclear wastelands instead of jewellery. And then afterwards you’d smile that chesire cat smile at me, all satisfaction and faux-inoccence, and we’d wear our best skins and most beautiful masks and dance amongst the stars next to the hunter ripped to ribbons by hounds at your sisters command compose ballads, and study the healing arts and crafts but not so well the grey eyed bitch curses me with eight legs and congratulate ourselves on our own brilliance. Spin lies out of ambrosia and nectar and pretend we are good and just, exactly what the mortals deserve

 Fuck me with your fingers with a fierceness you wouldn’t dare use on your precious lyres, piston into me the way the women in my grandmothers village gut fish (rhythmically, ruthlessly, with the sun beating down on leathery skin and the weight of 6 mouths to feed and the memory of your husbands knuckles shattering teeth), reach up into me and wring the neck of my womb like a newly ripe peach, yank it out of me until it lies pulsing and glittering and full of seed, uterine arteries spewing blood. I want to feel you burrowing upwards until I am impaled on your divinity, until you push upwards into my heart and lungs and your hands are peaking up out of my throat. Turn me inside out and wash me clean until my mortality burns away like a chrysalis and I am reborn in your image.

My ascension is a spectacle that leaves many breathless and many more blinded. “I am the goddess of lost potential” I whisper into the crook of your neck “of promises unkept and grudges nursed. Of doorways and bridges and the space between atoms. Of longing and regret and moments lost.” And then you’d smile that ridiculous smile of yours, like you’d seen me like this always, glowing and thrumming with possibility – and this confirmation is somewhat amusing.

“Pithanotita” you’ll declare against the shell of my neck and the rightness of it reverberates deep deep down, beyond the skeletons of cells that no longer exist and multi corded DNA strands, as if you have struck my very resonant frequency and my de Broglie wavelength sings with the joy of being seen. Not a name but a constant, a universal truth. Phoebus I’ll counter, and I won’t bother using a mouth, though the smirk will be implied. Possibility and Poetry need no lips to speak to one another, we are two sides of the same coin. You’ll laugh out loud then, delighted at my audacity. Only your mother calls you by her mothers name. And I can pretend just for a moment that we might last. The first of our kind to have eternity.  That we won’t end up tearing each other to pieces. The sun and his unlikely lover, regret.

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Sleep in the Heat: Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Oh, I got you pookie bear >:)))

Contains: Blowjob, deep-throating, choking, spanking, biting, hair pulling, creampie, rough sex, jealous sex, drunk sex(?) and a very dominant chris

“You wanna explain to me what the actual fuck that was?”

The front door slammed shut, echoing through the silent house. You paused for a moment, stopping at the couch where you set down your bag before turning to look at him over your shoulder. Just the sight of him alone was enough to send a shock of arousal up the back of your legs and straight to your cunt.

He was standing there, menacingly, but fuck if it wasn’t hot. His already brawny shoulders were squared, those big hands of his were balled so tightly it made the muscles in his arms tighten and bulge. His gunmetal blue eyes were practically burning with smoking hot desire as a fire lit in his belly. He was panting softly like a wild animal as he tried to keep himself calm but the alcohol in his system didn’t really help.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you stated as calmly as you could.

You winced when your voice wavered a bit at the end from excitement. You don’t what was doing more of the talking; Your aching cunt that needed to be destroyed by him or the alcohol swirling around in your system making you feel all warm and needy.

“No?” Chris stalked toward you, his steely gaze kept you pinned in your place. “You don’t think I saw how he was getting friendly with you?”

You felt your heart fluttering in your chest. Just the sight of him like this turned you on so badly. Your cunt ached, already wet with your honey-sweet arousal you wanted him to lick you clean of. Even as he towered over you, your belly still fluttered.

“He was just being nice,” you feigned innocence as you fully turned to face him.

He really wasn’t. It was just some other member of Hound Wolf who was trying to get into your pants despite knowing that you were happily married to the captain. Whenever you were alone, even for a second, he would try to get close and flirt with you only for Chris to come and scare him off with just a look.

“The fuck he was, (Y/n),” he grit his teeth. “He was basically eye-fucking you the entire night.”

“Chris-” you gasped, faking the thought that was already buzzing around in your head like a swarm of bees, “are you jealous of the attention I was getting?”

You suddenly cried when he suddenly latched a hand onto your hair, yanking it back just enough to feel the burn at your scalp and shut you up. Your eyes went wide but his were still dark and feral. Your hands tried to grab at Chris’ jacket only for his free hand to snatch at your wrists, squeezing them tight enough to make your fingers curl.

“You’re mine,” he got in your face and growled.

You could smell the whiskey on his breath, you could taste the cigarettes on your tongue. You could feel the danger sparking something electrical in your womb.

His lips smashed against yours, teeth clacking together. His beard scratched at your chin, his growl vibrated through the cavity of your mouth, his tongue practically shoveled its way inside to fight with yours. His grip on your hair tightened, pulling a muffled cry from your smothered lips. His fingertips wrapped around your locks, effectively locking his hand into your hair to give him better leverage on your poor scalp. The burn at your scalp had you crying softly as his mouth assaulted yours, your poor legs started to tremble. He bit into your lower lip just to get a rise out of you, just to pull a moan out of you.

Chris pulled away abruptly, a thin trail of spit connected your bottom lips for a brief second before it finally split. He was panting like an animal, and just the way he looked down at you made you feel like prey. His pupils were blown wide with drunken lust while something else lingered in those pretty eyes of his; Something dark and greedy.

Before you could beg for something more, Chris hoisted you up and over his shoulder without a second thought and started for the bedroom. His long and powerful strides were fast, boots smacking heavily against the floor as he climbed the stairs three at a time. You clutched at his back, hands balling at the hem of his jacket as he carried you around like you weighed nothing. You wheezed a bit as he climbed the stairs from where his brawny shoulder dug into your ribs only to cry out when he delivered a hard smack against your ass. Your nails sank into his jacket as you threw your head back, a lewd cry escaping your lips as Chris’ entire hand delivered another spank to the same cheek just for making noise. The slap stung, your entire asscheek felt like it was set on fire in the shape of his own hand. He kept his hand on your ass as he trekked through the hallway, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your ass.

He kicked in the bedroom door with his boot and stormed in.

He tossed you onto the edge of the bed as about as gracious as a bull wrecking a china shop, your poor body bouncing nearly off of the edge as you yelped from the contact. He stood over you as you laid back against the bed, hands gripping onto the comforter as your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out almost all sound.

Maybe you went a little too far with the teasing?

Chris reached out and grabbed at the collar of your shirt and balled the material in his iron grasp, tugging your back off of the bed just a bit.

“Strip,” he ordered.

His voice was thick with a mixture of desire and anger.

He pulled you off of the bed to stand before he let go. The loss of his grip on you had you stumbling just a bit. You kept your eyes on him, watching him with wide eyes as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He was watching your every move like a hawk. With a normal person, they would shiver or maybe cower away. Hell, you knew some of his men in Hound Wolf couldn’t stand being under his gaze, he was just that threatening. But you? You fucking loved it.

You shucked your jacket off of your shoulders and down your arms, the thick material pooled behind you. He watched intently as you slowly peeled your shirt up and over your head, dropping the rumpled material down to join your jacket. You didn’t touch your bra yet, instead, you slowly unlatched your belt and dragged your pants down your legs before you slid them and your shoes off at the same time. You were about to hook your fingers around the waistband of your panties when Chris stood up abruptly, causing you to jump.

Your skin became goose-fleshed as a chill ran down your spine despite Chris’ warmth was suddenly in front of you.

“Chris, I-”

He suddenly latched his hand into your hair again, snatching at the hair right above the back of your neck, shutting you up. You grabbed at his jacket for support, whining and hissing at the pain only for Chris to force you on your knees.

You were quickly met with his tented erection that his dark jeans didn’t do well with hiding. You swallowed thickly and looked up at him with wide eyes only to freeze at just the look he was giving you. You knew what you had to do if the way he had you positioned was a dead giveaway.

You brought your shaky hands up to his belt and carefully unlatched it before you unbuttoned his pants and drew down the zipper. His boxers were very tight behind the fly of his jeans. As you parted the fly of his jeans even more, you pulled down the hemline of his boxers until his cock sprung up. It was fully erect, the head was looking a little redder than normal as precum had started to just bead up at his slit.

His grip on your hair tightened as he brought his other hand down to his cock. He made a fist around his dick and pumped himself a few times, thumbing his slit and spreading his precum around the head before he tapped the head against your lips.

“Suck,” he ordered through grit teeth.

You parted your lips and carefully took him into your mouth. He allowed you to start off slow. You only took his head into your mouth at first. Swirling your tongue around his head, you swallowed the salty taste of his cum as he groaned softly, but his grip on the back of your head didn’t let up. You slowly took more into your mouth, going inch by inch. You flattened your tongue and sucked, almost swallowing him up to the root before you felt him poke at the back of your throat. You gagged a bit, retreating back just a little as you breathe through your nose. You brought one hand up to rest on his muscular thigh, nails biting into the sagging material. Chris groaned at your tight mouth wrapped around his cock, rolling his head back a bit as he savored the feeling.

You slowly bobbed your head along his cock, trying to swallow him fully, but you weren’t able to.

Chris’ hand tightened in your hair and applied more pressure to the back of your hair with every bob of your head. You whimpered at the sting before you gagged when he forced you to take more of him. You brought both hands up to his trim waist, sinking your trembling fingers into him as he fucked your mouth, forcing you to finally swallow him whole. You choked and groaned as he thrust into your mouth, tears stinging your eyes and dribbling down your flushed cheeks. He moaned loudly, his grip tightening as his cock twitched in your mouth lightly.

He looked down at you, his lustful eyes meeting your teary ones. He smirked at the sight of you on your knees, saliva dribbling down your chin as he fucked your mouth mercilessly.

“Look at you taking me in your mouth,” he smiled proudly. “You’re taking me so well like the slut you are.” His thrusts were starting to slow down, his cock spending more time being buried in the back of your throat as his hips rolled with his thrusts. He was going to cum soon. “Fuck, baby, it’s like this mouth was meant for me. Wasn’t it?” He yanked on your hair, pulling a choked cry from you, forcing you to nod your head as you pleaded up at him with watery eyes. You could feel your head becoming fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, the corners of your vision were starting to look a little dark. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You could see the flames lit in his eyes. “You’re gonna swallow every last drop, you hear me?”

You nodded again, hands gripping his waist for dear life.

He came suddenly with a shout, burying his cock down your poor throat as he spilled ropes of cum into you. You gagged at first, relaxing your throat and swallowing him as far as you could as you tasted his salty semen on the back of your tongue. You swallowed around him, your nose brushing against his sensitive skin as you looked up at him for mercy. His eyes screwed shut, his mouth hung open as he moaned out your name and a slurry of curse words and praises. His abs twitched and his brawny chest fluttered as he heaved in breaths.

He pulled away suddenly, dropping your hair and taking a half step away. You gasped, grabbing onto your knees as you coughed and heaved. You wiped away the tear tracks running down your cheeks and sniffled, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. You felt a gentle hand grasp at your jaw, carefully guiding you to look up at your husband who was looking down at you.

His cheeks were a little rosey, his eyes were still full of a dark need for more, his lips parted as he panted softly. His thumb rolled over your chin, catching the few drops of semen that had spilled out and pressed the sticky pad of his thumb to your lips. You opened your mouth, licking off the semen from his thumb.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

You flushed at the compliment, your hands balling up at your trembling knees.

God, you were absolutely wet right now, practically dripping with arousal. Your body ached for more.

As if he could read your mind, the hand that was caressing your sore jaw suddenly clasped around your throat, squeezing it tightly. You gasped, your hands flying to his muscular forearm to relieve the pressure only for Chris to force you to stand so easily. You choked and moaned as you stood, your knees quaking as Chris forced you back onto the bed until your back hit the comforter. He released you only for a minute, just long enough to rip your drenched panties in two and toss the scraps to the floor. He quickly slid off his jacket and shirt and dropped his pants and boxers to the floor. He snatched at your ankles and spread your legs, his eyes locking with your dripping cunt like he was hypnotized by it.

He let go of one of your ankles to stroke at your slick pussy, his calloused fingertip easily sank into your dripping cunt and scratched deliciously at your fluttering walls. Your eyes fluttered and nearly rolled into the back of your head as you let out a soft moan.

“Look at this dripping cunt,” he purred. “You always make such a big mess just for me.” He curled his finger just a bit and it had you screwing your eyes shut, burying the back of your aching head into the comforter. “Nobody knows how to fuck it like I do, isn’t that right, princess?”

“J-Just you,” you whimpered out.

Your hands snatched at the comforter, nearly ripping the seams as Chris fingered your poor kitty before he suddenly pulled away. Your eyes shot open in desperation and looked right at him only to see him lick your sweet honey off of his finger. He hummed at your sweet taste before he grabbed at your free ankle.

“You always taste so sweet for me.”

“Just for you,” you cooed back.

Chris spread your legs wider and brought your ankles up to his naked shoulders, his grip was tight enough to make your toes curl. He brought his erect cock to your dripping womanhood and pressed his head against your folds, coating his thick cock with your sweet nectar before he bucked his hips and pressed himself inside of you.

You cried out from the stretch, squeezing your eyes shut until you saw swirls of purple and green against black. Chris groaned loudly as he buried himself inside of you until his balls slapped against you. He winced and cursed loudly at the way your cunt squeezed around him, absolutely milking his soul right out of him.

“Fuck!” he spat as his grip on your ankles nearly faltered.

“Chris!” you cried out as your eyes shot open.

He started to roll his hips. He didn’t go as fast as when he fucked your poor little mouth, not yet at least. You watched as his chest heaved as he tried to get used to how tight you were, his mouth was slightly open as he loudly moaned out your name. His sharp abs twitched and seized from the amount of pleasure that flooded his body.

You went to grab onto his shoulders for support when he suddenly grabbed your throat again. You gasped and clung to his wrist as his thumb and index fingers pushed into your throat right under your jaw. You gagged and cried as your oxygen supply was cut off. You locked your ankles behind his head as he quickened his pace inside of you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, tears starting to prickle at the corners once again.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled down at you. “This cunt belongs to me, do you hear me?” You nodded, afraid to speak as you choked you out. “Speak!”

“Yours!” you croaked.

He only loosened his grip just enough to let you gasp for air before he clamped down again.

“If he so much as looks at you-” Chris cut himself off as he moaned loudly, your walls squeezing around him suddenly. “Fuck- I love you so much I- shit!”

“Chris-” you choked out.

He clamped down a bit harder and bent down, getting right in your face.

“If I have to fuck you in front of the entire squad, I will.”

His cock suddenly hit your cervix and you cried out loud, your body feeling like it was melting from please as Chris grinned down at you with that wolfish smile of his. Just the thought of him taking you like that, fucking his pretty little civilian wife in front of them, it tipped you over the edge. You came with a cry, your walls sputtering around his cock as Chris plowed into you without mercy.

You went limp against the bed, you remind going completely blank as the lack of oxygen made you horribly dizzy. You felt like the bed was swallowing you whole when Chris lightened up on his grip, but he still held onto your throat. He turned your head to the side and ghosted his lips over the delicate skin of your throat. He pressed kisses to the column, grazing his teeth over the vein before he thrust into you for the last time. He bit down onto your throat, hard, as he came. It was like you had gotten hit with a bolt of lightning and you screamed, your cunt milking him as he shot rope after rope of cum right into your abused pussy. He lazily ground into you as he poured his life into your cunt until he finally ran dry, finally letting go of your throat with both his hand and his teeth.

Your entire body throbbed and pulsed as you opened your eyes to look up at your husband. He had you caged to the bed, his big and very strong arms pinned on either side of your head as he looked down at you with those eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered down at you, finally showing his soft side.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#367

“That’s it?  That’s all you have to say?  Seriously?  You call me in on my day off.  I cancel my afternoon with my Marine buddies at the lake.  Ok fine, I’ll catch up with them later.  I drive twenty minutes to get here.  There’s hardly anybody else around.  I come over and you want to talk about landscaping this back region, something that could have waited until Monday?  Really?  I thought considering what happened yesterday that you would be asking to give me a blowjob or something….

“…Oh for fuck’s sake!  Do not fucking pretend that you and I weren’t at Ruby’s bookstore yesterday at the same time.  You and I were in the last two booths on opposite sides of a good sized glory hole.  You sucked my dick for fifteen minutes, edging me a couple times.  You whispered, ‘Let me lick your ass.’  You did just that when I turned and offered my crack for your tongue.  Then I flooded your mouth with my usual massive load.  Now do you remember?

“Good.  You can knock this coy shit off.  You called me to come in, brought me to the back part of the property where no one ever goes, in hopes of doing what?  Did you think that we would play strip parchesi?

“I get it.  You want me to do this, to take the initiative.  You want me to ask for a blow job?  You don’t have the balls to ask yourself. 

“For fuck’s sake.  There’s no need for me to ask you.  You are a fucking cock hound.  Yeah, you may have a wife, three kids in a ten-bedroom house on twenty-four acres, with a detached five-car garage with a two bedroom mother-in-law suite above it, a vacation home in the Virgin Islands, a mid-seven-figure job, and yet you drive half an hour to the nasty industrial part of town to suck rank blue collar dick at a glory hole at Ruby’s bookstore.

“The thing is that you clearly have been doing it for a long time.  That wasn’t a casual blow job you gave me.  You knew how to manage my fat sausage, like an expert.  Your tongue never stopped hitting my sensitive spot.  You throated me with a mild struggle, but you didn’t give up.  And then, you knew how to read my cock to sense when I was getting close in order to edge me properly.

“So how long have you been sucking dick?...  Junior high?  Wow.  Let me guess.  It was some blue-collar factory worker.  Probably some big and beefy guy like me.  Was it?... Thought so.

“Henry, the guy working the front counter who I have known for years—fucked him a few times—told me that you are a regular, and you pay him a hundred bucks to direct the big guys your way.  That’s kinda bold.  Hell, that’s how I wound up at your hole.

“I’m surprised I didn’t pick up your sperm burping vibes until now.  When I came out of the booth yesterday, you threw open your door to see whose dick you had been sucking.  Once we made eye contact, your face went from curious, to excited, and finally to panicked all in one second.  You bolted out of there so fast.

“So here we are….  …Faggot?  What do you want to do?  Your silence is not going to get you my dick in your mouth.  You want my dick?  Tell me….

“…No, no, no.  I know if I were to whip my cock out that you would be on your knees throating me down in no time flat.  No, I am asking do you want my dick in your life?… To rule your life?

“Good.  What about my ass?  Your tongue liked the sweaty musk.  You must be an ass eater too.  You want to worship my shithole too?...

“Cunt, I better start hearing some ‘Sir’s’ after the yes’s and no’s you give.  You understand?...

“That’s better.  I have been using men for my own thing for decades.  You ain’t the first closeted faggot I have come across.  I have worked this situation before.

“Look I work for you whenever anyone else is around, but when we are alone together, I own you.  I’m Sir to you, and you will be Cunt or Faggot.  I will be calling the shots here.  We’ll work out more later. 

“When was the last time you had a man use your cunt?...  That long?  You may not be a virgin, but you will offer the same tightness.  Get naked….

“…You don’t do anal?  I don’t care.  You need to be cunted.  You’re gonna be cunted.  Naked. Now!...  Cunt, I expect you to do what I say, without hesitation.  That’s better. 

“You need to realize that I fully know how to work with a closet case.  Yeah, we are here on a Saturday, when none of my guys are here, we are in the back of your property where no one goes, and most importantly Sarah’s SUV is gone.  Considering you are back here about to be cunted, it’s safe to say that she has the kids.  How long is she gone?... 

“All day?  Well hot damn!  Walk with me.  No, leave your clothes there.  You need to be exposed for a bit….  In the middle of the field here. 

“On your knees.  Your goal is to put as much throat slime as you can on my dick.  That’s the only lube I’m going to use.  Reach up, unzip me, and take it out.  Balls too.

“This is the cock that is going to rule you.  I don’t care how many other dicks you suck, my dick is the one at the center of your universe.  Suck.

“Ahh,… That’s the tongue I remember.  Mmmm.  This is the kind of a blowjob I like at the end of a hard day.  One that I can unwind with.  That’s why I stopped at Ruby’s last night.  But today, I’m in control.  Hands behind you and keep them there.  All the way down to the root.  All… the… way… down! 

“When I put my hand on your head, I’m in control of the blowjob.  You dedicate that airway to me.  Gag motherfucker.  Gagging only puts more throat lube on my dick.  I’m going to give you a minute to really lube me up.

“…Struggle with that fat cock.  I would have expected a more experienced deeper throat.  We’ll get that trained right.  Blowjobs when the man is in control are a lot different, hunh?

“…Ok turn around.  On your knees….  Don’t worry while we are out in the open, no one is here.  Knees spread.  Shoulders on the ground.  Arms at your side.  Palms by your knees and face up. 

“This is how to present a cunt for a cunting.  And what a pretty pussy it is.  So pretty, that I think you earned an extra glob of spit.  There.

“Scream fucker.  I always go right to the root.  No fucking countdown.  No time to accommodate.  Oh, fuck you are tight.  Man.  This cunt is mine now.  I decide what to do with it.  We are going to have some fun. 

“You like blue collar men?  Cunt, I am going to whore you out to some nasty big brutes.  I know places where cunts are used and tossed aside.  There are a few rest stops on the interstate, some truck stop with old school showers, there’s even a mechanic shop I know with a nasty bathroom around back.  I can’t wait to transform this cunt a perpetual sloppy mess. 

“Remember I told you I was going to the lake with my Marine buds?  We are all hard-working men who enjoy using cunt fags.  That’s why we go to the lake, to use them hard.  If you think you can get away from the family for an overnight, we’ll go up there later today.

“Oh there you go.  Now keep that cunt relaxed.  Tightness is hot in the beginning, but ultimately, I like it sloppy.  Oh man.  I’m getting close.  Fucking close.  This cunt was made for my dick.  Here it cums!  Here it fucking cums!  Ahhhh!  Ahhhh!

“Goddamn.  Cunt, you may give great blowjobs, but this cunt is gold.

“When I pull out, your mouth will move to clean me up.  If you want to jack off while doing it, go for it. 

“…Oh look, there’s a little blood mixed in with my load.  A tiny skid mark.  It all goes in your mouth….  Fuck!  Does that feel good. 

“Ok Cunt.  This is what’s going to happen.  I will rule your cunt, your dick, your mouth, basically you.  I don’t care if you still go to Ruby’s to suck on more blue collar dick.  I’m not that kind of possessive.  But when I want your holes, I want them now.  I understand there is the wife thing.  I can work around that. 

“I want to know all details of all the loads you take.  If you spend an afternoon at the glory holes, I want to know how many cocks did you suck, and how many loads did you swallow.  You’ll have a tracker on your phone so I know where you are at all times. 

“Getting away to service me is going to require some changes from you.  The one that pops into mind is get Sarah’s goddamned yoga studio out from over the garage.  I’m going to move in there.  It makes sense to have me on grounds in general, but now I will have a room nearby for my cock to enjoy some nearby cunt.

“I will also accept a raise.  If I’m going to be fucking you, it will cost extra.  Yeah that makes me a whore, but I’m fine with that. 

“Now we get to the part of the conversation where you realize just how much you are owned by me.  You know Ruby’s has hidden cameras throughout their booths?  No?  Not many are aware.  Henry showed me a few very clear videos of you going to town on some rather big dicks.  I have copies on my phone….

“No, no, keep cleaning the mess you left on my cock.  I can show the videos to you later.  My buds at the lake will definitely appreciate seeing them.  You know, having it on my phone, I can show them to anyone.

“If you think that our relationship is going to be all fucking and sucking, I’ve only just begun.  I keep telling you that I own you; I really do fucking own you.

“OMG are you cumming?...  Fuck yeah!...  You are a sick faggot!”

[loneliestluvr]

𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊𝒊𝒊.

i. ii. iii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warnings: beron😒, abuse in general(like triggering af please be warned), me being a rhysand hater, brief suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 4.1k— this took me all day to write(from 7-9 am and then 3-now please be thankful😞🙏🏼)

taryn thinks: YES I DID CHANGE THE NAME. IT FITS BETTER. I HAD NO IDEA WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS WHEN I STARTED. HUSH. i would like to choose this very moment to tell you there will be a happy ending and to say they WILL end up with babies. still unsure how many parts this will be though 💃🏼 im just a gorl. @readychilledwine this is my payment for that tamlin baby and domestic fluff(smut if you’d like) bonus chapter for lost bonds 🤗

There was glass shattered on the floor by the windows.

Eris’s head was down as he stood before his father, pieces of deep auburn hair hanging by his eyes as he tried not to move and tried not to let any emotion pass over his face. Just as Beron expected when he took his lashings— whether that be from a whip, his tongue, or his powers.

However indignant, the fact his father had chosen his tongue today was a mercy.

“You are insignificant,” Beron seethed, spit spraying from his mouth as he yelled. The deep, cruel, voice booming off the walls of his fathers study. “—a bastard, truly. A bastard because you surely can not be this stupid and be born of me. A worthless excuse for a first son.”

Eris kept his stature wane, making himself small for his father despite the fact he was a few good inches taller than the male.

Sometimes, he thought the High Lord’s need to belittle and denigrate everyone around him, raise his voice and grow violent, was driven by some sort of lust. For power, respect, whatever it may be. Something he lacked.

That maybe the fact he put energy into minimizing his court, his family, his wife even, was because he didn’t even respect himself. That he needed to create room for his anger and hatred by pushing others down.

What had happened to him that made him so cruel? Is this how his father had been to him? Was this love to him?

“How is it that we’ve only just learned there’s a fourth sister, Eris? Tell me,” Beron’s voice grew lethally quiet as he spoke and Eris forced himself to breathe, bracing mentally. “—tell me so I know who better to put on the throne instead of your pathetic fucking excuse of life.”

His words grated against his ears, voice tight and angry and again growing louder as he spoke.

Another glass was thrown, and shattered. Hitting the wall so close to Eris’s head that a piece flew at him, slicing across his cheek lightly. He barely moved.

The crystal thin enough, knife-like enough, that he felt the warmth of his blood start to slowly seep from his skin.

Like moisture collecting on the petal of a white poppy in the early morning dew when he sat in the meadows by the Forest House, Saydee’s head in his lap as he talked to the earth. A small reprieve from the chaos of the palace.

Eris was there, in his mind.

Petting his hounds grey coat as he whispered, just as he always did when the sun came over the horizon and woke for the day. Like he had since he was just a faeling sitting in his mothers lap as she did the same.

His mother had explained it so gently one morning, sat in the grass, about when the sun comes over the skyline to say good morning. Not to speak too loudly or too brash so that he didn’t startle the earth, because she too deserved kindness. The Mother.

So almost everyday for as long as he could remember, he sat in that meadow, lazing in the tall grasses as those vibrant hues of blue and orange and pink and yellow streaked across the sky— and he whispered to Her.

About his hopes and dreams that would never be fulfilled or sought after, talked of the life he wished to have. That he wished his own mother had. Asked for her days to be gentler, kinder, prayed on every wild dandelion he found, for someone to share his days with, to talk to— however boring.

And he had. He had his dogs, and he had the fields surrounded with the creeks that ran through their property, and he had the sky.

He wished he was there most of the time. So he created a place in his head, to escape in moments like this.

Acres of meadows, full of flowers and taller grass than he could dream of. Up to his hips, his bloodhounds disappearing beneath the blades as he strolled leisurely. Hands wading through the soft thicket. Sometimes he dreamed of others with him, his mother, Lucien, someone else.

Locked away that piece of himself to disappear into whenever being in his body became too much.

It’s where he had spent nearly fifty torturous years Under the Mountain, spending every waking moment protecting the female who had raised him for his father didn’t care to. Spending fifty years away from those grasslands and that beautiful savoy grandeur. His meadows.

Throwing stick after stick out into those pastures as he walked further and further, his best girl running every time he threw— chasing bunnies and jumping into the streams. Getting lost in his mind. When he knew it was morning, which was so very rare down in that dark and decrepit nightmare, he prayed. He prayed for some divine force to step in, for Her to save him and his family. To be kinder. The first time he cried and spoke his despair aloud, Feyre Archeron had come three days later.

Eris was deep in fern grasses as the blood dripped down his face, but he still did not move.

He hadn’t even taken his coat and finery off from Hewn City yet, having told his father he was coming from the lookout on the northern border. He didn’t bring attention to it.

He heard his fathers deep breath and the creaking of the chair behind his desk as he sat, maybe seeing reason now that the heady scent of his sons blood filled his study.

“You will go to Rhysand as soon as possible,” Beron started, pinching the bridge of his nose. Eris still didn’t look up, just blinked at the floor. “—do what you must. Find a way in, figure out what else those wretched girls took from us. I do not care if you kill or maim or whatever else takes your interest these days.”

His voice trailed off as if remembering something significant and Eris heard the wood groan again and then footsteps, his heart remaining steady despite the screaming that filled his head. Then he saw the polished toes of Beron’s shoes.

“You always were the smartest of my sons. So much like me, so brutal.”

Male pride laced those words. Eris wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, and he did want to kill. He wanted to kill the man before him, wanted to kill the ruination that circled this court. That ripped its beauty from her chest, chewed it up, and spat it out.

But he did not move.

A hand gripped his chin, turning his face to the side and up. Eris let his eyes flick to his fathers face and saw the warning there.

“Where did you get this.” It wasn’t a question, Eris knew.

“I was playing with Saydee and tripped too close to a jagged rock, it cut me. It didn’t hurt.”

Beron released his chin if only to land a sharp slap on his other cheek and then immediately grabbed his face again. His grip burned, like molten ire, making the flesh of his cheeks dig into his teeth.

“Where did you get it.”

“I was practicing my swordsmanship with Brenton and he sliced me with his rapier, it was an accident. He got the proper punishment for hurting me.”

Beron released his son’s face and stepped back.

“Get out, don’t let your mother see you.”

Doubtless that the reason he wanted him gone was because he didn’t want his sons blood to drip onto those precious carpets.

Eris didn’t need to be told twice, so he walked. As calmly as he could until he got to his rooms, making sure to take the long way around and avoid where his mother was no doubt waiting by her own door to hear Eris’s footsteps walk by.

To know he was safe, or to know what his father did. Either way, he didn’t want her to see him like this.

Closing the door behind him, he finally loosed a breath, opening his eyes as he shucked off his jacket and draped it over the chaise by the hearth. Walking to his tray of decanters, lightly touching the blood on his face with one hand as he picked a bottle up in the other.

His scarred fingers came back crimson.

A slow boiling rage, like simmering sugar, filled his body. His muscles, gritting his teeth silently. Grip growing tight as he looked at that blood.

And then that was all he saw as the glass bottle shattered into the brick fireplace, sending the flames roaring and him stumbling back a few steps into the post of his bed.

He hadn’t noticed it was lit, vision glazed over.

He was breathing heavily, eyes wide as he watched the flames fulminate, casting an orange glow on his room and his face. So bright and wild he felt the heat from feet away as he watched the fire roar and gutter back down.

Eris thought that maybe he really wasn’t any better than the man that sired him at all.

Spring in Velaris was beautiful.

The mid-day sun warmed the air around the River House, a gentle breeze kissing Blair’s skin and ruffling through her curled hair.

She’d let her little sister braid it back this morning, a thin coronet that made a beautiful pleated flower on the back of her head. Though her loose bangs tickled her eyes, Blair thought she had looked rather pretty.

She wasn’t so outside of her body when she sat in the open air. And she felt… alright.

Though she would have preferred a fir to scale, as they allowed for easier climbing, but the willow she had found herself in made for a good view of Elain working in Feyre’s garden.

It was a welcome change from her window. Like there was no need to run away and hide in the forests of her mind, digging her own hands into the soul of the earth just to make sure her mind didn’t numb away.

She was almost laying down against the bark, the large trunk and spindling branches wide enough two people could have sat up here side by side. As uncomfortable as it may have been, the rough corking crust digging into wherever it touched through her pale yellow gown, it felt like home.

It’d been a week since Starfall at the House of Wind, almost a month since that all too brief introduction she had made to the world in Hewn City on Winter Solstice. Of Prythian’s world, at least.

Blair hadn’t expected anything for it, she had been there for a short half hour and had been… occupied the whole time.

Sometimes her skin still burned when she was alone. In the bath, when she stirred honey into her tea, late at night in the too cool sheets of her bed.

She’d felt her own since Hewn City, able to think and manage conversations, elating to Feyre and Elain and she quite enjoyed conversing with her little sisters now. But she still laid by the fire, night after night just to feel that warmth fill her.

But after that, after the surplus of gifts from their small gathering that followed, presents hadn’t stopped when the Solstice holiday ended— but they weren’t coming from her family.

Baskets and boards and chests and boxes were sent to Rhysand’s palace and then were brought to the House. Welcoming’s and courtiers from every place in Prythian it seemed, branching out to welcome her.

Well wishes, mostly. Some off-notes and letters, claiming that Blair Archeron’s beauty could be used to fix the rifts in this continent and between courts. That had been the most absurd one, a letter for Rhysand asking for her hand in marriage. He laughed as he read it to her, sitting by the window— knees tucked into her chest.

It angered her more than anything. That she was already a prize to be had, or that it was Rhys they were asking.

Slowly, as days passed and she spent more time outside breathing clear air, the anger grew. The realizations came in waves, of things she had missed, times where she should have spoke up and didn’t.

Resentment, frustration, shame, guilt.

She didn’t let it show, bottling it up and shoving it down. Killing the urges inside her to scream at everyone, to bellow and seeth and grow violent. Something so awake in her, gnashing and bloody teethed. The need to give into that voice in her head that told her to let it go.

That she needed to in order to go on, in order to have a sense of normalcy. That exploding was the only was to settle her bones. She felt particularly nasty towards Rhysand.

The betterment he had to achieve and grovel over, should grovel over, was stacked against the High Lord.

The anger was what took her the most, forcing her fingers to loosen the grip she had on her fork at dinner nightly as she listened to him ramble and laugh. Watched Feyre go on like she would not die having his child, closer and closer to being due.

She wanted to watch him bleed as her sister was going to.

Wanted to scream for all he had made Nesta do.

The entitlement.

But Blair buried it.

So she would glare to herself when he wasn’t looking, lip pulled back slightly and passed off as a twitch, before she took in what was sent as an attempt to woo her.

Blair had thought they were for Feyre in all honesty, before Cassian explained that it was bad luck. A few days ago when he walked with her along the Sidra— Elain had dragged her out and in return she made the Illyrian come with her— he had said it was a grim omen and wish of terrible luck to send an expecting mother gifts for a babe that hadn’t yet been born. To the fae at least.

She listened mindlessly. Noting the scent of her older sister that came from him in waves. She needed to talk to Nesta, and soon. A conversation was owed on both ends.

The thin parchment of the book she was reading scraped against the soft pads of Blair’s fingers as she leaned back against the large trunk of the willow.

Vines of cream wisteria flowing in the soft wind that sent the caps of her bell sleeves fluttering, watching Elain out of the corner of her eye as she dug her bare hands into the soil. Choosing not to use the enchanted gloves Lucien had gifted to her as she tended to the flower beds at the back of the house.

Despite the cool air surrounding Blair from the river flowing a few paces away, a warmth bloomed past her skin, not from the sun, but from something else, and her chest melted or sparked or roared as she saw a flash of deep auburn hair— walking towards where she was in the tree.

The second oldest Archeron’s brow furrowed so slightly. That scent— that heated mahogany and citrus, burning embers, floated to her on a soft wind and brushed through her hair in a soothing caress.

Eris’s hand skimmed along the brush of a white rose hedge as he strolled, his gait loose but strong. Blair kept her focus on the pages she was reading, but a sudden pounding in her heart had her unable to focus on any of the words.

She heard him approach, feet light and careless, she wouldn’t have heard it if she were still human. But with her new ears, the new senses she was still getting used to, she could.

The feet stopped, just under her, and Blair flipped the page. The thin and gauzy skirt of her dress draped and hung down the branch she lounged on, leg crossed over the other.

Eris cleared his throat then, and Blair could see his tall stature blurred in the peripheral of her vision. Hands tucked appropriately behind his back.

“I’m shocked Rhys let you come here, especially with my baby sister in her condition.” Blair said without lifting her head to look at him. Eris hid his smile by lowering his head. “Or should I be worried you’ve come to steal Nesta away? She’s not here, by the way.”

The words poured out of her mouth so quickly that Elain lifted her head in wonder, the same furrow as her older sister’s she’d seen play out in her face so many times. Rhys was standing with his arms crossed on the stone walkway when Elain looked to the back doors. Not pleased, but something willing.

“Now, smart, beautiful thing.” He tsked his tongue, amusement lacing every word. “I wanted to see you, and I told you that Nesta was not what I wanted anymore.”

Blair lifted her head at that, looking down at his wretchedly beautiful face and he smiled that wicked smile at her that spoke of pure sin. The level of her belief was in her eyes.

Whatever he offered that was big enough for Rhys to allow him to come to Velaris, she didn’t believe it would be just for her. Eris had given something to gain something— that’s what they all said of him.

“I told him I’d spoil our fun and tell my father of our plans or he could let me see you and I’d send a legion tomorrow for him to direct.” Eris added, as if reading her mind or face or body. She forced herself to keep looking at him.

“I could have met with you somewhere else.”

“Would you have? Left this place?” A raise of his brows.

Blair didn’t know, she didn’t know why she said it. Why her tongue just moved before she could think with him. Her eyes said as much and then a sudden, unknown, panic filled her and the life guttered so quickly from her eyes.

“It is safer here anyway.” Eris said lightly a few seconds later, followed by a quiet sigh.

There was a thin white gash along his cheek, almost healed, but it wasn’t there the last time she’d seen him. Blair remembered every inch of his face whether she wanted to or not. A face that followed her.

“No gift to try and sweep me into a marriage with you?” She said as gently as she could, face a bit flat.

“I thought I gave you one.” Eris smiled and at Blair’s squinted eyes, he continued. She closed her book and tossed it to the ground, narrowly missing him as it thudded to the ground. “Our dances, I did give you three I believe. Is that not the correct number in the mortal realm when a male is courting a female?”

The female blinked down at him, pausing as she swung her legs over the side of the branch, face drawing ever tighter and then she couldn’t control it.

It was the wording that sent her laughing she supposed. The sound rich and full of life, not empty and deserted or even strained, a song that skittered over Eris’s skin. Soft and silky as a fawn’s coat, gentle and easy as a gliding dove.

“I suppose,” Blair started, grunting slightly as she slid on her stomach— using the little strength she had in her arms to hold tight to the trunk she was dangling from. “—if we were in the mortal realm.” Blair panted slightly and Eris’s mouth formed a tight line as he watched the female struggling to climb back to the ground.

Her palms quickly formed indents from the grooves and bumps and ridges she clung to, nails digging into the wood.

“But,” Slipping slowly, trying to find a place for her dangling bare feet to land or stick to so she didn’t drop seven or eight feet right to the grass. The thin sleeves of her dress catching and snagging on sharp ribs in the bark. “—I so graciously have the rest of my immortal life ahead of me,”

“Would you…” Eris’s hands trail off as he watched, hands behind his back and head tilted.

“I have choices, to make—” Blair interrupted, toes splaying as she reached and reached for the next thing down but there was just nothing. “So I think it fair I take,” She huffed, hands slipping and sweating as she tried to grapple. “My,”

Eris raised an amused brow to her backside, arms crossing over his chest as he just watched. Her full body dangling there and then Blair yelped, right hand slipping and then she was falling with a gasp.

Eris was there a second later, large hands firmly gripping her waist as her knees bent over something. Scratching up her hands as she went, skin ripping on the rough bark and she grappled for anything. Body twisting.

It was Eris who caught her, who she tangled herself onto so she wouldn’t slam against the ground. Panting, heart beating, arms around his neck before she looked at him.

Blue, rust-flecked eyes met amber ones.

“Time.” She whispered, staring at his face. He’d caught her. She couldn’t tell if it was her pulse she could feel inside her hand, or his, as it held to the junction between his neck and shoulder. His eyes flicked down.

“Yellow was a choice, my dear Blair.” She scrambled from his arms, dropping another foot before touching the ground as she stood on her own again.

“I like yellow.” She spoke quietly, brushing her hands along her dress and halting when it streaked the fabric with a dirty red. Looking up at him with a breath, she crossed her arms instead.

“Beautiful as a rare star, then.”

Blair rolled her eyes.

“What is it you want, Eris?”

The male nearly fell to his knees at the look in her eyes, the sound of his name on her tongue for the first time.

Out loud, that is. He’d rewatched her beautiful lips play with it in his head for the past month, over and over. Kept it for himself, for when he was alone or bored or…

Eris feigned a pout.

“No polite courtier? I just saved you, my fair damsel.” He said, face serious until he smiled again and Blair started walking back towards the house. Rhys mouth twisted into a satisfied smirk as he watched.

“I do not need saving, the worst that would have happened was a few scratches or a bruise. I would have lived.” Even if she didn’t particularly care to. She didn’t say that out loud, though. But the despair seeped into something, she didn’t care enough to stop and think about the feeling.

“Mm,” He hummed, following behind her. “I suppose so.” He wanted to grab her, to touch and feel her beneath the flesh of his hands just because. Something inside his chest dragging him along behind her, he was not himself.

Blair just kept walking, right up the stones and the marble stairs off the back of the house, feet padding to the doors. Eris stopped at the steps where Rhys made him halt.

“Don’t let them hold you.” Eris called and she looked over her shoulder just briefly before flinging the doors open and disappearing inside the house that was warded off. Eris couldn’t follow after her if he wanted to.

“You saw her. For whatever reason you needed, she clearly did not have an interest in the same.” Rhys sighed, stepping in front of Elain subconsciously as Eris stood there— still looking into the House. “Now leave my city before I kill you, you know not to speak of this place to anyone.”

Eris was still staring after her when he disappeared in a rush of wind and warm light.

Elain looked back at the tree where her sister and the male had come through moments ago, only to find a particular trail of higher grass where Blair had walked and suddenly grown dandelions were blooming.

From the slam of the back door seconds later and the vacant yard that Elain was now left alone in, nobody else had noticed.

🏷️: @prythianpages @readychilledwine @impossibelle @anuttellaa @aelincaddel @umgatochamadopercyval @mirandasidefics

[wordy-little-witch]

Buggy brainrot-

I spent a few hours today in the EER with mama and had to distract myself Somehow so you get my silly lil snippets of music video stories in my head-

Buggy accidentally seduces a bunch of people and doesn't even NOTICE because of his special brand of oblivious survival rizz

Basically during the 2 year skip where he gets named a Warlord, he does in fact attend a meeting or a few. The first one, he's a mix of audacious loudmouth show boating and critical assessing eyes.

By the second one he's decently comfortable with knowing the names and faces of his vicinity - he's plotting and he's got more than a few cards, knifes, and other items up his sleeves.

At some point, the meeting goes from relatively calm to absolutely hog fucking wild and somehow, someway, someone's belonging winds up damn near launched into the upper rafters of the room. There's a strict No Devil Fruit policy, enforced by a seastone earring, so while the arguments and in-fighting ensue, Buggy just kind of scoffs, walks put, comes back with a pole, jams it into the broken tiled flooring and proceeds to ignore them while he climbs. Pole art isn't too terribly different from his aerials and trapeze, and he's done just about EVERYTHING under the sun at last once, so it's nothing unfamiliar. His gloves are uniquely textured so he can safely handle his Muggy and Buggy Balls, too, so carefully using his momentum and muscles to climb and shift up the pole smoothly is a pretty simple matter.

He gets to the top, hooks his legs and feet properly, and twists his spine to reach out, unaware of the sets of eyes boring into him.

Mihawk is stone faced, but there is a heat to his gaze. Doffy's sunglasses have slipped down his nose a little. Kuma is pointedly Not Looking. Hancock is... frankly pretending to be uninterested but lowkey is staring. Buggy is oblivious, retrieves the hat or sash or earring, whatever it was, and shifts his weight, releases a hold and smoothly drops, stopping just before the floor to daintily rise, sashay over, and plopped the item on the table, fixing his gloves.

It's the silence that has him looking up, arching a brow. "What?"

Then he sees the time.

"Oh. Meeting's over. Bye~"

And baby boy DIPS.

(Nickelback - Midnight Queen)

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Shanks POV post-Rogers-disbanding, pre-Execution, the cabin brats solo on the seas

He's watching Buggy charm the absolute hell out of a guy at a bar in some no name little town. They've been landlocked for nearing a week now, their previous ship shot to hell by a pirate crew hounding their tail after they'd been sighted some three islands back. The ship held together long enough to pull a full miracle put of nowhere, helped along by a storm. Since then, they'd been gathering cash to pay off her repairs to keep moving, unwilling to part with Speed after all she'd done for them so far.

One source of income came from Buggy's silver tongue and sticky fingers.

The blue haired pirate was leaning over the counter now, twirling a loose lock of hair as he giggled, fluttering his lashes. The man he was buttering up was a few years their senior, bejeweled and slicked hair, a flush of intoxication on his cheeks as he warmly regarded the pretty thing at his side. Shanks could relate, at least a little, on the way the man's attention was focused so thoroughly on Buggy.

Pink tinted lips quirked into a smile, head tilting invitingly, to which the man responded as expected. He was under the blue haired pirate's spell already - Shanks checked the time - three minutes in. Not a new record, but close.

He wasn't sure how to feel about it all, honestly. It was not jealousy, not truly, that curdled his stomach. Instead, something bloomed viciously in his abdomen, something akin to possessiveness. Sure, he figured absently, people can find Buggy pretty in his disguise.

But Shanks was the one who saw his entirety.

Shanks saw the tan lines on pale skin; Shanks knew the taste of his freckles and skin; Shanks knew the scars on his left hip and between his shoulder blades; Shanks could map Buggy's face from memory with lips alone, and he damn well knew it.

The world can be played by Buggy, but Shanks would know the game.

And an hour later, outside of that little bar, he would welcome the smaller body leaning unflinchingly into his side, arm around the other's shoulders, heart full and his lover's pockets heavy, and Shanks would look back, would meet wide, dark eyes with a pink smudge on his chin. And Shanks would grin, sharp and unrepentant, turning to guide those same pink lips up to his own.

He's wear his boyfriend's lipstick with pride.

((NEFFEX - Rumors))

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Buggy wears skirts whenever the fancy strikes, and sometimes it works perfectly for parties. He'll be the first to say that people who don't love dancing in skirts have never tried it before. While his fashion tastes aren't always expected, he revealed in the freedom there - and his crew thrived in such environments.

That was why he hadn't thought to make a big deal out of the first skirt day since Cross Guild was established. It simply WAS, in the same way as the weather, the same way as the meal plans, simply just footnotes in it all. He'd gone most of the day without seeing the two newest additions to the island, and frankly had forgotten to be vigilant of them.

It was a good day, a new shipment, a celebration, nothing too extravagant, just a fun night with his people. Really, Buggy hadn't even thought to glance up for yellow or violet eyes.

The crew was boisterous, but that was normal, music playing and laughter ringing. Buggy was sandwiched between Alvida and Marianne, a newer islander from a small island out East. The dialect there was unfamiliar by and large, but Buggy had grown up learning it from a man he considered a father, and Mari had so few who spoke her mother tongue.

Buggy simply had the idea to make tonight Extra fun.

After all, nobody partied like a Roger, and Roger always had the best songs. Bugs wasn't too bad with a fiddle. When asked, Mari beamed, no slouch herself, and offered to take the lead.

So they took to the stage, each swiping an instrument with playful glares, and heels tapped the rhythm as they began, hop-skipping as they bobbed and weaved, clapping joining as people whooped and hollered, making merry and enjoying themselves.

It was midway through that Buggy was caught playfully, fiddle lifted as one of the older mercenaries bowed him out, picking up the tune. He laughed happily, hands fisting his skirts as he twirled and danced, thoroughly enjoying himself-

And then he caught sight of Mihawk. He was watching, an odd note in his eyes, and Buggy could just barely see the way the other seemed to lean into the music. Fueled by a wild idea, high on the adrenaline and joy, Buggy walked over and offered his hand.

And Mihawk accepted.

He was a great dancer, and Buggy was delighted to be lead in a familiar dance, beaming boldly at the goth man before him. Traditional dances like this were few and far between - it only made them more fun.

That night began a change - first of which culminating into Mihawk fluffing Buggy's skirt with an almost-smile, a quiet statement following. "I should quite like to do this again some time."

Buggy only realizes later what that implied.

((Celtic Woman - Níl Sé'n Lá))

[lesbianhotch]

puppy love

a drabble about you, wrecker, and everyones favorite giant space puppy (wrecker x fem reader, very fluffy, gif is by @dreamswithghosts )

You’d expected to be pounced on as soon as you opened your front door; Wrecker rarely held back on scooping you into his arms every time he greeted you.

What you’re not expecting is a flash of paws and slobber and muscle that knock you backwards so hard you land down harshly on your backside.

There’s a slight moment of fear, your natural instincts telling you that this creature means business, but the sharp teeth in your face make way for a sandpaper tongue that licks your cheek with gusto.

“Ah come on girl, off ‘er!”

The blue and grey hound gives you one more drool filled lick before backing off, removing her paws from your shoulders and sitting back on her haunches to stare at you, tongue lolling out of her large mouth.

You look up from your spot on the floor and finally see the face you were expecting; Wrecker smiling wide and looking all too amused at the situation.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Omega did a good job training her but she get’s excited.”

He holds out a hand that you eagerly take, and he lifts you up with ease.

The hound puts her nose to the floor, and begins sniffing around your entryway and living room. Her tail whips back and forth as she explores.

“Wreck, where did she come from?” You wipe your face on your sleeve, ridding yourself of the slobber.

“She came back with Omega and Crosshair. Helped them escape from Tantiss.”

The hound of conversation bumps into your side table and the books atop it almost go clattering to the floor. She’s like a bantha in a dish shop.

“Names Batcher!”

You can’t help the tiny laugh that bubbles up and escapes you. Of course that’s her name.

Wrecker whistles, and Batcher perks up immediately, weaving through your living room back to you both at the front door. She sits down next to him, and he places a gentle hand on her head, giving her a scratch. He does it even harder, and Batcher's hind leg thumps rhythmically against the floor.

She’s kind of cute, the more you look at her.

And the more you look at her, the more you consider her and Wrecker kindred spirits.

“She reminds me of you a little bit,” you say slyly, reaching down to pet Batcher underneath her chin. She barks happily and closes her eyes.

Wrecker actually pouts, and you have to bite your check to keep from smiling so hard.

“What do you mean by that?”

You hum thoughtfully, thinking of your answer when you’re greeted by another unexpected guest.

Omega arrives, looking better already since you last saw her, greeting you good morning and coming by to collect Batcher.

"We’re going down to the beach to see Crosshair! Wrecker just wanted to bring her over to meet you first.”

You give Batcher one more set of pats and scratches before she scampers off after Omega, barking excitedly.

You feel a fullness in your heart as you watch the two run off into the afternoon, and Wrecker clears his throat to get your attention.

“Now what was all that about me and Batcher?”

You wrap your arms around Wreckers middle, craning your neck to look at him while your press yourself to his front.

“I just noticed some similarities. Strong, excitable, very cute. Not to mention the big slobbery kisses.”

You cant hide your smirk at the last comment, and Wreckers face turns into a grin that lets you know you're in trouble.

“Oh really?”

He scoops you up in a flash, and you squeal as Wrecker begins to pepper your face with wet kisses, the exaggerated ‘smack’ of his lips against your cheeks making you laugh.

He kicks your front door closed, carrying you further into your home, blindly bypassing the living room and heading straight for your bedroom.

“Wrecker!!” He places a particularly wet kiss to your neck, and you squeal again in delight.

“If you want kisses sweet thing, then you’re gonna get ‘em!”

You get all that, and a whole lot more.