#chase stokes locks

[peachdues]

THE SWEET FAR THING (TEASER)

Knight!Kyojuro x F!Royal!Reader

Kyojuro my beloved, it is your time to shine again.

Have a sneak peek from my Royal AU featuring one of mt favorite tropes — sworn protector/guard x royal.

Obviously this will be super NSFW, who do y’all think I am.

CW: suggestive/horny content ahead.

Scene context: angy Knight Rengoku slips into your chambers late at night following a failed coup attempt.

He’s angry and you know why — you’d directly disobeyed his orders and launched yourself headfirst into the chaos which erupted in the Great Hall.

His presence in your rooms is daunting; a dark anger ripples off him like waves of heat roll off stone in the summer, and yet he says not a word as he slowly stalks toward where you stand near the edge of your bed.

A predator stalking his prey.

Only when the tips of his boots meet the toes of your slippers, only when you feel the blustering heat rolling off his body and enveloping you within its suffocating warmth, does Sir Rengoku open his mouth.

“Where.” It is all he says, his voice low and rich. His eyes are twin pools of molten ore, but even now, you can see the rage simmering within their ochre depths.

“Where.” He repeats, though his tone is harsher.

“‘Where what, Sir Rengoku?” Your voice is as soft as the shadows cast around the walls of your chambers by the flames crackling merrily in your hearth.

A muscle feathers in his jaw. “Your wounds,” his face twists as though the very thought of any harm befalling you is offensive. “Where are they.”

It is not a question, but a demand; one that you know spells trouble if you should answer truthfully.

Trouble that piques your interest nonetheless; one that stokes a curiosity within you that you know is dangerous.

You pursue it anyways. “I am unharmed.”

The knight’s mouth curls into a snarl at the obviousness of your lie. “That is not what the healer claimed.”

“What good is the word of a healer against the crown?” Defiance rears its head within you, eager to both rise to his challenge and to see exactly how far you can push him. “Is my word not law?”

Rengoku scoffs as he steps closer, his leg slotting between your thighs and forcing you to lean back into tour bed frame for support. “It may be so,” he admits, though the fury in his eyes make no such concessions. “But empires built on baseless laws are inevitably doomed to fall.”

“Meaning?”

The Knight’s eyes flash. “Your words are horseshit and you know it.”

He’s right and but you’ll be damned before you admit it.

“You overstep,” the bite of your glare is belied by the way you’re forced to shift your weight awkwardly from foot to foot, as you try your best not to think about the burning press of his thigh between yours. “Now kindly remove yourself from my chambers.”

Rengoku makes no effort to move and his obstinacy thrills you.

Instead, his hands rise to the front tie of your dressing gown and begin tugging, slowly undoing the haphazard knot you’d fastened in your haste to make yourself decent.

Your fleeting moment of triumph is chased away by the breath which lodges in your throat.

“What are you doing?”

Your knight — your fiery, loyal, compassionate yet utterly insufferable knight — slides a single hand between the parted folds of your robe, coming to rest on the dip of your waist covered only by the thing fabric of your nightgown.

The weight of his palm feels like a brand against your skin. “Since you refuse to be forthright about the extent of your injuries,” Rengoku says, pushing the robe away from your shoulders. “I shall have to take inventory of them myself.”

Your dressing gown drops to the bed behind you before sliding to the floor to puddle around your feet. Wordlessly, Rengoku steps away just enough to kneel before you, though his eyes remain locked with yours.

You are wading into treacherous waters, and you know you are without any raft or life preserver which could keep you afloat.

“I shall scream,” you warn, though you do not mean it; not really. You intend only to give him an out, a means to come back to his senses before the blazing heat of his stare consumes you both. “I shall alert the rest of the palace guard.”

His fingers skim up the length of your shin, a phantom caress that is a mockery of how you truly wish for him to touch you.

“My duty is to guard the Crown and ensure no harm befalls it, your Majesty,” Rengoku’s breath follows the path carved by his hands up your legs. He pauses at the knee-length hemline of your nightgown, his chin resting against the slight bend in your leg.

It nearly frightens you how much you adore seeing him on his knees, peering up at you like you are the embodiment of salvation itself.

“So by all means, call forth the Guard,” the Knight’s fingers slowly push below the hem of your nightdress, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Call forth every living creature within the palace, for all I care. They will see only the Princess’s Knight, carrying out his sworn duties and managing her every need.”

Your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as Rengoku’s fingers tease higher and higher up your thigh. “And what are my needs, Sir Rengoku?”

Your flame-haired protector only hums. “To have your wounds tended to, for starters,” and it takes everything in you not to let your head fall back with a cry as Rengoku presses a single, chaste kiss just above your knee.

But the sweetness of the gesture is undercut by the darkness of his gaze. “And to be punished for directly defying the orders of your Guard.”

yes daddy punish me —

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

teasing/testing/kissing 🥵 the devil request for lovely anon it's a short one, sorry about that! this heat's killing me. i might revisit this at some point. thank you so much once again laura for all of your help, advice and encouragement ❤️

Read on AO3

-

So dangerous it was to tease a devil, like holding your hand out near a hungry lion’s mouth. At some point he’d snatch out, faster than she could pull back, and the game would be over – but until then, Tav couldn’t deny the rush she experienced each time she denied him, each time she slipped away just as his claws were about to sink into her soft mortal flesh. The frustration, the intrigue that alighted his clever eyes and tensed his handsome shadowed jaw, were delicious treats she shamelessly feasted on. Holding any semblance of power over a creature like Raphael was addicting. To know he desired her the way she desired him was enough to make her toes curl in her boots.

The more he pulled, the more she pushed. At first it was light, easy. Heated glances shared, a flirty word here or there from a naturally charismatic charmer who liked to talk; words that she would return, equally blasé, equally sultry. To let him know she was interested. That she wanted to play. It was fun. Thrilling. Ah, but she was fanning the embers of a roaring inferno in her passionate devil, and she simply couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop.

“Have a drink with me,” he began to ask, to challenge. She wouldn’t be baited.

“Maybe some other time,” she’d say, all faux regret and longing, dissolving into the fog of day-to-day before he could ensnare her, wolf and doe.

She began to see more of him. Raphael wedged himself into her life in spaces she didn’t know existed, always smouldering with the want she’d stoked, always challenging. Tempting, same as she. Push me a little further, sweet thing, his dark gaze promised, and find out what I’ll do.

As it turned out, steal her away to the Hells where she couldn’t escape him was what he’d do. A snap of his fingers after one nudge too far – really, all she did was blow a kiss, hardly cause for kidnapping – and she was in the House of Hope. Nowhere to escape. To be devoured at last.

“You’ve played with fire without consequence for far too long, little mouse,” the devil purred. Crowded her. They were in his personal chambers, she thought. Subtle. “I think it’s time you got burned.”

“I’m fireproof,” Tav declared, arms crossed.

“Are you now? Hmm…I think we should test that claim, shouldn’t we?” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, the rough pads of his fingertips hot. He was savouring the sensation of her blood risen beneath her skin by her flush, his eyes intense, a little twitch of amusement in his expression. He dragged his thumb across her lower lip, pulled it a little.

“Yes, we should,” Tav breathed. She was entranced by him. Enchanted. She couldn’t help it. He smelled like fire, smoke, cherries. She couldn’t stop looking at his pretty mouth, twisted into a smirk. How the tables had turned.

“How should we test it?”

“Kiss me,” Tav murmured. Raphael chuckled, a deep and raspy sound that gave Tav goosebumps. His glinting, arresting brown eyes became half-lidded with satisfaction.

“Given your recent behaviour, I don’t think you deserve it,” he crooned, petting at her cheeks like she were a sweet pup. He relished in her brief outrage, frustration, but it didn’t last. She was too sly.

“Well, then. I suppose you’ll never know if my claim was true, will you?” She hummed. Looking up at him. Their faces so close their breaths mingled. “And don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the game. I thought you devils liked a chase. Unless those things you said about preferring it when clients put up a fight was all talk…”

“Impertinent chit,” he growled without venom.

“Got under your skin though, didn’t I?” Tav said smugly.

“Hardly,” Raphael scoffed. Tav’s smile turned a little mean.

“Then it won’t matter to you if, say…I kiss Haarlep instead, will it?”

“You will do no such thing.” This time Raphael’s snarl was sharp. He gripped her jaw tight, his ring and pinky fingers teasing the column of her throat. She gasped as he nuzzled beneath her ear, spoke directly into it. The scratch of his stubble felt so good. “How comfortable you are with me…such a lack of respect. I wonder, what should I do about it…?”

“Fucking kiss me already,” Tav snapped breathlessly. At last, the devil acquiesced – or at least with what he considered a kiss. Even he couldn’t deny their magnetism forever.

He bit at her. Sank his teeth into her plump bottom lip, sucked it into the humid cavern of his mouth to taste the tiny beads of blood he drew. Tav groaned, grabbed fistfuls of his coat. He still held her jaw, controlled the pace of his “kiss”, but Tav was never one to lay down and take it. She bit him right back, licked at his silky thin lips, lingered in their corners to push her gasps behind his teeth and make him feel them in his throat. In his lungs. Their mouths joined in a proper kiss, and this time Tav greedily swallowed Raphael’s throaty grunt. He kissed the same way he bit: hard, consuming, selfish. Tav couldn’t get enough. One hand abandoned its place on his chest and slid up the back of his neck. She sank her fingers into his lush hair, gripped his locks and tugged. He pressed her against the wall, overwhelmed her with the squash of his body. She could tell how he felt about each indulgent pull of his dark roots by the stiffness nudging against her belly, how his hips jerked with every tug. A pleasant squeeze of arousal settled in her gut. So damn good. Eventually they peeled apart, both breathing heavy.

“So,” Tav panted. The tips of their noses brushed. She yanked his hair again just to make him shudder, so she could watch the expansion of his pupils, the pleasure on his face. “Proof enough for you yet?”

The devil’s grin held a fleeting hint of fangs. “Not even close.”

[princessfbi]

Kisses twelve for Bucktommy

Kisses + 12. Against a wall kiss + Bucktommy

Danger. That’s what he tasted like. Danger. Danger and those stupid freaking cherries he kept popping in his mouth whenever he lingered in one spot for too long. The same mouth Tommy couldn’t resist. Not even as he clawed his own nails into his thighs until he was sure he would bruise or looked away whenever he was near or ground his teeth to dust as he watched him flirt with other people at the bar. Did they feel it too? Did they feel like they were the center of the universe when those sky blue eyes were focused on them? Did they feel the burn in their chest when they watched those two perfectly plump lips lift up into a smirk? Did it matter? Because none of them were out there with them. Just Tommy. Just Tommy was getting to kiss Evan with a hunger that had been churning in his gut. Evan made a small, desperate sound as his back hit the wall behind him. His hands, his legs, wrapped around Tommy like he wanted to climb him like a tree. It was frantic and messy with teeth clashing and tongues battling but Tommy didn’t care. It was dangerous and stupid. Anyone could walk out on them. His whole freaking house was just past that barely propped open back door and all it would take was for someone to come looking for him to find him like this. The thought had his heart lurching up into his throat. Tommy sucked in a breath that burned harsher than whiskey as lips pulled away. He wasn’t ready. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Maybe this was all he could ever have. But he knew he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to be seen that way. “No one can know,” Tommy said, his voice more of a growl when murmuring those words against Evan’s lips. He hated himself for it when Evan's lips were so soft. He bit after his mouth, sucking Evan’s top lip in between his teeth and pushed in with his tongue to stoke the fire some more. Evan shuddered in his arms as the filthiest little whine filled Tommy’s lungs. They shouldn’t. Someone would come looking for him. Howie probably. And Howie was the best of them. He wouldn’t look at him differently if he found Tommy with a hard on and the twunkie bartender in his arms. But he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t stop either. Not when his hands wrapped so perfectly around Evan’s waist. Not when Evan tipped his head up and chased after Tommy’s mouth like he never wanted to let go. Evan arched up into him and Tommy groaned as that hard unmistakable length rutted against his own. Pleasure sparked like kindling and Tommy was engulfed with Evan Evan Evan. He pinned Evan’s hips back and could’ve gotten drunk of the way Evan responded to that. Evan writhed beneath him. Fingers fisted in his shirt collar and tugged and pulled on the fabric until it was going to be so overstretched he’d never be able to wear it in public again. “Come on,” Evan said, grinning against Tommy’s mouth. Tommy bit another kiss for his troubles. “You think I’m going to ruin this? Do you know how hard it was to get your attention?” Tommy stopped at that, his heart thundering in his chest. “My attention?” Evan hummed as he nodded and Tommy saw it there too. That flash of vulnerable honesty that streaked across the cocky overconfidence. All that flirting. All that torture he’d put Tommy through and it was to get his attention? Tommy's? But that vulnerable truth? That small token given to Tommy for safe keeping? It made something in Tommy's chest flutter free from the cage he'd locked himself in all those years ago and for once, Tommy didn't want to chase it back. It was Evan’s turn then to hide. He skated his hands into Tommy’s hair and pulled him down, sighing into the kiss when Tommy blanketed him with his body. He fit so perfectly in his arms. Yeah. Tommy was screwed.

For @buddie-buddie and @bigfootsmom

[highinmiamiii]

MONEY POWER GLORY

club owner!joe kessler x exotic dancer

A/N: this piece goes hand in hand with @billybutcherxyou / @foxiewrites and I’s DBF!Butcher series. best to be read alongside their most recent post, so make sure to check that out first. (cw: themes of manipulation, power dynamics, implied threats, and mentions of the adult entertainment industry.) NO USE OF Y/N

summary: Kessler, the sleazy owner of Club Kess, where petal works, dangles promises of fame and fortune, but his intentions are far from pure. Highlighting petal’s willingness to play his game, even as she’s fully aware of the dangers that come with it.

—————

She walks into the dimly lit office at the back of the club, the heavy bass from the music outside thrumming through the walls. Kessler, the club’s owner, sits behind an oversized mahogany desk, a fine Cuban cigar smoldering between his fingers. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and the faint tang of his expensive cologne. His eyes, sharp and calculating, follow her as she approaches, amusement flickering in them.

“Ah, there she is,” Kessler purrs, his voice smooth like honey with an underlying edge that makes your skin crawl if you listen too closely. He leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he gestures for her to sit. “My favorite girl.”

She offers him a small, confident smile, though there’s a tightness in her chest she can’t quite shake. She’s been working for him for some time now, just barely making enough to have a little extra cash after repaying her father’s debts and getting out of every negative situation. Billy still couldn’t seem to get off her ass. She’s good at what she does, and she’s determined to be more than just another one of Kessler’s showgirls.

Once she had even the slightest taste of financial freedom to splurge on a cute top or take herself out to lunch somewhere nice, she’d never go back to her old life. Her life had been full of losses, wins, failures, and falls.

Kessler’s gaze never wavers as she takes her seat across from him, the leather chair creaking slightly under her weight. He exhales a long plume of smoke, watching her with that same calculated amusement, like a cat playing with a mouse.

“I’ve been watching you,” Kessler continues, his eyes narrowing as he takes a drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around his face like a serpent. “You’ve got something… special. A spark, if you will.”

“You’ve been doing good work, sweetheart,” he says, the endearment slipping from his lips like it’s second nature. His voice carries a certain weight, commanding attention, respect, and maybe even a little fear. “Better than most of the girls who walk through that door.”

Her smile widens just a fraction; the words hit their mark. She’s been craving validation like this—something to tell her that all the hours, the effort, the sacrifices are worth it. The faint praise settles into her bones, stoking the fire she keeps burning inside.

“Well, I aim to please,” she replies smoothly, her voice laced with just the right amount of sultriness. She knows how to play her part, knows what Kessler wants to hear. And she’s more than willing to give it to him if it means getting what she wants in return.

Kessler’s smirk deepens, his eyes glittering with something dark, something dangerous. “That’s why you’re my favorite, baby,” he purrs, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You’ve got the looks, the talent, the drive. Everything a girl needs to make it big. And I’m gonna make sure you do.”

She feels a thrill of anticipation run through her at his words. She’s been chasing this dream for as long as she can remember—the idea of being more than just another face in the crowd, of standing out, of having everything she’s ever wanted. Money, power, glory. The trifecta that’s kept her going through every hardship, every setback.

“A-anything, Mr. Kessler,” she says, her voice almost a whisper, leaning in slightly as if she’s afraid to miss a single word. “Tell me what I need to do.”

Kessler’s smile is almost fatherly as he leans back in his chair, taking another drag from his cigar. He likes this part—the moment they’re fully under his spell, ready to do whatever it takes to make his promises come true. He’s seen it a hundred times before, but there’s something about her that makes it all the more satisfying.

“It’s simple, really,” he says, his tone almost conspiratorial. “You just keep doing what you’re doing, baby—keep turning heads, keep bringing in the crowds. Make them want more of you, make them crave you. And when the time is right, when you’re ready, we’ll take that next step.”

He pauses, letting the words sink in, watching as her eyes widen just a fraction, her breath catching slightly in her throat. He’s got her, and he knows it.

“What next step?” she asks, her voice hushed, almost afraid of the answer.

Kessler’s smirk returns, sharper this time. “Movies, baby. Real stardom. You’ve got a face for the camera, and I’m gonna make sure you get there. But you have to trust me, follow my lead. Do that, and you’ll have everything that pretty little heart o’ yours desires.”

She bites her lower lip, a move she knows he finds irresistible, playing into the moment. It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear—the promise of something more, something bigger than the life she’s been living. Dealing with her asshole of a father and his gambling debts, instead of living the life of a normal girl her age, she was working the pole at Club Kess. She’s come too far to turn back now, and Kessler knows that. He’s got her wrapped around his finger, and she can’t even bring herself to care.

“I trust you,” she says, the words coming out easily, as if they were always meant to be spoken. “I’m a big girl, I can take it,” she adds cheekily.

Kessler chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down her spine. He reaches out, brushing a thumb across her cheek, the touch as possessive as it is comforting.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rich with satisfaction. “Stick with me, baby, and I’ll make sure the whole world knows your name.”

She feels her heart pound with a mix of fear and excitement. She’s heard the rumors, knows what happens to the girls who fall out of Kessler’s favor, but she’s convinced it won’t happen to her. She’s different. She has to be.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You want more than just the dance floor. You want to be a star.”

The word hangs in the air between them, heavy with unspoken promises. She can feel the pull, the allure of everything she’s ever wanted, dangling just out of reach. But there’s a part of her, the smart part, that knows there’s always a catch when someone like Kessler is involved.

“I do,” she admits, keeping her voice soft, almost vulnerable, knowing that’s what he’s looking for. “But I know it’s not easy. I’m willing to work for it.”

Kessler’s grin widens, and for a moment, she can see the wolf behind the businessman. “That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart,” he says, his tone oozing with false sincerity. “You’re different. I see big things in your future. Movies, magazine covers, hell, maybe even your own show one day.”

The flattery is relentless, and she finds herself nodding along, even as a small voice in the back of her mind tells her not to fall for it. But it’s hard not to, especially when he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

The words are intoxicating, and for a moment, she lets herself believe them. But then Kessler’s gaze hardens, just for a split second, and she catches a glimpse of the man behind the mask—the one who’s willing to destroy anyone who doesn’t play by his rules.

“But remember,” he adds, his tone shifting to something colder, more menacing, “this business is tough. It chews up the weak and spits them out. You keep up your end of the bargain, and I’ll keep up mine. But cross me… and, well, I’m sure you know what happens to girls who get on my bad side.”

She forces herself to smile, to play along with his game. “I won’t disappoint you, I promise,” she says, her voice smooth as silk, hiding the unease coiling in her gut.

“Good girl,” he replies, the smirk returning as he leans back in his chair, satisfied. “Now, go out there and show them what you’re made of. Got big plans for you.”

She nods, offering him one last smile before she turns.

As she’s about to leave, Kessler’s voice cuts through the lingering haze of cigar smoke. “Actually—hold on a sec, baby,” he drawls, his tone smooth but with an edge that halts her in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

Kessler reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out an old Polaroid camera, the kind that spits out instant photos with a soft mechanical whirr. He holds it up, a sly grin spreading across his face. “One more thing before you go. Gotta get a picture to go with the others, yeah? Keeps things personal, keeps us close.”

She hesitates for a moment, feeling a strange twist in her gut. This wasn’t part of the usual routine, but then again, Kessler always liked to blur the lines. “A Polaroid?” she asks, forcing a light tone, though she can’t keep the edge of suspicion out of her voice.

Kessler chuckles, but it’s a low, menacing sound that sends a shiver down her spine. “Just for the collection,” he says, as if that explains everything. “A little keepsake for me. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

The unease deepens, but she can see the challenge in his eyes, the unspoken command. He wants her to trust him, to play along. And if she refuses, if she makes a scene, she knows what that might mean for her future here.

So, she swallows her discomfort and flashes him her best smile, the one she reserves for customers she’s trying to impress. “Of course, Mr. Kessler,” she says sweetly, stepping closer to the desk.

Kessler’s grin widens as he raises the camera, the lens glinting in the dim light. “Say cheese, darling.”

She hears the click, followed by the whir of the camera spitting out the photo. Kessler catches it before it hits the desk, holding it by the edges as the image slowly develops.

She forces herself to stay calm, to keep that practiced smile in place, even as Kessler’s gaze flicks between her and the photo with a predatory glint. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, more to himself than to her, before he slips the photo into his desk drawer, locking it away.

“Alright, baby,” he says, his tone returning to that of the smooth-talking club owner. “You go on now. Remember, I’m watching.”

She nods, mutters a soft “thank you,” and finally makes her exit, feeling the weight of his gaze on her until she’s out the door. As she steps back into the dimly lit hallway, the thumping bass from the club outside washing over her like a wave, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just crossed some invisible line, one she might not be able to step back from.

But she pushes the thought aside. This is what she wanted—what she needed. If playing Kessler’s game was the price she had to pay for her shot at fame and fortune, then so be it. She’d play, and she’d win.

Because she knew one thing for sure: in this world, you either play the game or get played. And she wasn’t about to let herself become just another one of Kessler’s pawns.

[ghostofaboy]

Purpose

Summary: Marcus has a very specific desire, and Dave is only too happy to assist.

Pairing: Marcus Pike/Dave York Rating: Explicit | Word count: 789

Warnings: Anal sex, breeding kink, Dom/sub elements

Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes. This was a request from @perotovar and @fluffygoffpanda as part of my 200 Follower Celebration, as their requests worked really well together. Divider by @saradika-graphics Little bit of a sequel to this and this.

Pulling his knees up closer to his chest, Marcus could feel Dave’s gaze on him. Those beautiful eyes were exploring his body, roaming over every inch, planning out exactly what he’d do to the exposed agent. Strong hands trailed over his flesh, thumbing over his nipples, sending shivers through Marcus’ body as goosebumps dance across his skin. As a callused finger circled his ready hole, Dave smirked.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Marcus gasped out, his cock twitching to his words, with small beads of precum flicking onto his stomach. “I’m ready.”

“I won’t go easy on you.”

“I don't want you to. I want you to fill me up. I want... I need you to breed me.”

A deep growl was the other man’s response as one of his large hands grabbed Marcus’ thigh while he lined up his thick length. As the sizeable head breached him, Marcus couldn’t stop himself from holding his breath. Despite receiving his lover’s cock many times, it somehow always caught him off guard with its girth. Although his body had long since adapted, the delicious stretch of the initial penetration was something Marcus hoped would never lose its thrill.

Once he was fully seated within Marcus, Dave paused to take in every expression and Marcus could see his eyes analyzing him and checking him. But he knew by now there was more to it than that. Dave cared. In his own way. What Marcus had first taken as cool detachment he now understood to be a self-imposed barrier. One that stop others getting too close while still allowing Dave to let small controlled amounts of love out.

As Dave began to slowly roll his hips, pumping his thick length deep into Marcus, the heady rush of arousal sent the younger agent’s thought back to their first encounter. There had been no names, just a quick fuck in a seedy motel and little chance of ever seeing each other again. But they had. Running into each other on a case of all things and after attempting to stay professional for a couple of day, they had tumbled into bed together.

The sounds of skin smacking against skin filled the room as Dave steadily increased his pace, driving his cock into Marcus’ hole. Each time Dave plunged into him, jolted Marcus slightly up the bed, stoking the fire inside him, and causing him to writhe and squirm. Shifting to lean down over Marcus, Dave spread the younger man’s legs wide, tucking each leg under his arms as he maintained his iron grip on Marcus’ thighs.

Pinching his eyes shut, Marcus could feel Dave’s balls slapping against him with every hungry thrust. He could smell the sex and sweat in the air, the thick musk permeating the room and his senses. His whole world was Dave inside him, stretching him, fucking him to the edge of his sanity and then bringing him back. 

Dave’s movements were frenzied now. Jackhammering into Marcus with abandon as the older man chased his finish, and with each powerful slam into him, Dave brought Marcus close to his own climax. Opening his eyes, Marcus was met with the slight of Dave’s eyes locked into him. They were filled with determination, lust, but also…

Dave came first, as he often did, letting out a low, throaty cry as he rocked into Marcus. As Dave leaned forward to rest his head on the younger man’s shoulder, Marcus couldn’t stop himself letting out a needy whine as he felt the hot seed flooding into him. This is what he wanted. What he needed. To feel and keep every drop of Dave’s cum inside him. What else was he for if he couldn’t do that?

Marcus could feel Dave trembling as he stilled, slowly leaning up to look at Marcus again. For a moment Marcus thought Dave would do what he always did and stay inside him, keep fucking him until he came. But instead, Dave began to carefully pull out, easing his cock out of Marcus’ gaping hole before quickly reaching for a plug. 

“You have a choice, Marcus.” Dave’s voice hitched slightly as his shaking hands gently nudged the plug into place, filling Marcus once more with the heavy silicone. “One, I can make you come now. Daddy will blow you baby and make you feel good. Or, two, you can wait like a good boy until I’m ready to go again and Daddy’ll fill you up even more.”

From his place on the bed, Marcus’ cock twitched at the choice. With his legs spread open for Dave and his chest heaving with each breath, he couldn’t help but grin. There was no choice at all, really. He knew exactly what he wanted. 

[lucid-romances]

Restraint

Stephen Strange x Magical! Reader

Word Count: 561

Warnings: NSFW - Praise kink, Dom! Stephen Strange, Slight pain kink, Reader Can't Control Their Powers.

It started as a slip of the tongue. 

Moans came easier than words. 

Stephen pressed her into the sheets of his four-poster bed, her hands pinned above her head to keep her from touching him.  Her fingertips digging into his skin had started to feel like electricity. On most occasions, he wouldn’t mind the pain, but it was distracting from the time of his thrusts, and he knew the ache in her palm would drown out her pleasure. He tries to ease it with his feverish touches as his free hand slides along the sticky skin of her stomach to massage her breast.  The attention elicits a rich moan from her, and Stephen does his best to stifle the noise with a sloppy kiss.  It’s all tongue and teeth, leaving no room for words as she shifted her leg. They’d parted to let him between them, but chasing her release, she hitched it over his hip instead.  

The change in angle turns a switch in her brain. Stephen was always in control in moments like this.  It allowed him to let out pent-up stress, and it allowed her to stop worrying. Except now, each time Stephen’s hips rolled against her own, the pleasure rushed through her like a wave. She pulls her head away from his own, taking a deep breath. Just as she’s about to speak, he bottoms out again, and all coherent thoughts cease. 

“Steph… Steph… Please…”

Her eyes have closed, and because she’s lost in the bliss building within her, she hardly noticed the broken way his name fell from her lips. However, Stephen couldn’t help dwelling on how innocent and desperate she’d made his name sound. To him, his sole purpose in those moments was not to love her but to worship her. 

He finally released her hands, but only to grasp her chin. His thumb grazes against her lip, dragging against it roughly, and he uses it as leverage to earn her gaze. “Darling,” he croons, his voice nothing better than a rutting groan.  “Look at me.” 

As if cursed with a spell of obedience, she does as she’s told.  Their gazes lock in a moment of breathless intensity.  She wants to whine, to beg, to become an inconsolable mess. Stephen can see it in her eyes, and it stokes a fire in him- rarely seen by anyone else.  He offers her a wolfish smile, full of pride for claiming her in such a way. 

Her compliance and blatant trust in him meant she was his. 

In Mind, Body, and Soul. 

Stephen’s thoughts cleared when he felt her start to tighten.  

Magic gathers around them like an inferno.  

He can feel the heat of her release, the building pop, before the magic begins to manifest at her fingertips. Her brows pinch, and she does her best to contain it. 

Stephen released her chin and slotted his hands within her own.  Their fingers intertwined, Stephen prepared himself to gather the ambient power. Their intimacy was a good lesson about maintaining control, forcing her to restrain herself. 

She couldn’t speak, move, or orgasm without his explicit instruction. 

Neither of them minded the power dynamic, as he’d finally give them what they wanted. 

“Good girl,” He consoled her as it all started to burst at once, the magic, the pleasure, and the welcomed pain. “Let go for me.”

[ebullientheart]

bulletproof vest. aaron hotchner x reader

content — hurt/comfort. fluff. fem!bau!reader. brief references to typical bau violence. marriage. requested by anon.

you have a nightmare that, for once, is unrelated to your line of work.

your jobs are quite literally nightmare material. arson, murder, and a volley of heinous crimes you spend days and nights peering into. it is entirely unsurprising these villains chase you into the realms of subconsciousness, living in your minds as payment for delving through theirs. almost poetic.

so later, when your adrenal gland gets itself under control, you’ll likely find it funny that your scare came from something objectively less terrifying than your daily life. but in the moment, it feels just as horrible as being hunted by an unsub, or being forced to shoot, or finding yourself utterly defenceless.

all the typical signs of an activated fight or flight invade your body as your eyes peel open. you force yourself to sit and push your pillow upright against the headboard, swiping your damp palms over the sheets and trying to calm your heart. you think its intense pounding is probably what wakes aaron, whose head is right by your chest.

he rasps your name, momentarily confused at your shift in position. he reaches for your bare arm and you resist the urge to shrug him off in your paranoid state. it doesn’t take long for him to work out what’s got you trembling, too familiar with them himself.

“nightmare?” at any other time, you’d be entranced by his rough cut morning voice.

you shrug, whispering back as you’re conscious of jack asleep just down the hall, “i’m alright, babe, go back to sleep.”

with a quiet groan as he stretches his limbs out to sit also, he brings a warm hand to your shoulder blades. it’s firm and consistent, a presence you crave.

“you can’t lie to your husband.” he smiles, trying his best to remind you that he’s not just a fleeting comfort.

you scoff, trying your best to sound braver than you feel, “yeah, cos he’s a profiler.”

“a profiler in love with you,” he affirms, “talk to me, honey. was it foyet? the silencer? piano man?”

your laugh is watery as he lists off evils from your real world. you shake your head, covering his free hand with your own to politely cut him off.

“s’none of them. just a nightmare.”

aaron smiles fondly, “yeah?”

“yeah.”

he’s almost incredulous as he muses, “i didn’t know we could get those anymore.”

again, you laugh, and pride blooms in his chest. he’s not exactly known for his humour, and it stokes something nice in him that he can elicit that chuckle from you, even through your tears. still, he notes the self-deprecating undertone to the sound, and moves to pull you further into him.

“don’t be embarrassed.”

you nudge him, “stop that, we’re not supposed to profile each other.”

“i can’t help it, i know you too well.”

shuddering lightly at the memory of your cold fear, you concede, “there are worse things.”

he agrees and locks you to his front as he eases both of you back down to the mattress, not bothering to fix your pillow as you lay across him like a bulletproof vest. that’s how aaron makes you feel in moments like these; bulletproof.

[tj-dragonblade]

popping my head in to ask about Mer Hob 👀 from the WIP title ask game

Finally popping my head back up to answer, my apologies for the wait! Mer-Hob came out of server conversations about mer-Dreamling fish assignments and aquatic mating displays, but he kind of fizzled out with the scene I tried to write. Dusting him off for this, though, I think I can breathe the spark back into it. Take it past where I meant to before, so it will have a more satisfactory conclusion. I have scrapped the lackluster 'how did they meet' that was stalling me out and given them new backstory and now I'm unsure how exactly I want to structure this. Start where I've started and then jump back to the meeting, then bring them back to the present? Make the backstory a separate fic? Rearrange the whole thing chronologically, which would require a lot of rework and shortening of the current opening bit? IDK but I'll figure it out. In the meantime, here is a chunky chunk of drafting for their meet-cute (sfw but cut for length):

Dream is not surprised to find a waterline-level cave out on the rock formation in the bay, on the side not visible from shore. Nor is he overly surprised to find someone stretched out in the handsbreadth of water covering the floor with their eyes closed, as the morning light fills the first several feet of the cave brightly in a way that is conducive to sunbathing.

The fact that the sunbather has a bright orange tail with brilliant yellow fins and blue-black leopard-like spots is rather less expected, however, and Dream gasps his surprise.

The sound startles the man—the merman—surely not?—who sits bolt upright, eyes wide and panicking as he locks gazes with Dream not an arm's length away.

Dream's heart skips a beat. He's beautiful—

"Oh, fuck!" The merman—there is no other explanation, no mistaking the flurry of fins and scales as he moves—the merman twists and flops and dives past Dream, a less-than-graceful plunge off the rock and into the sea and then he is gone.

"Wait!" Dream cries, to the bright flick of yellow vanishing into the depths, but of course it is no use.

He could swim back to the boat, could don his diving gear and follow—but no. The merman is already gone, and will be more so by the time Dream could be equipped to give chase.

He swallows back his disappointment, his disbelief, and tells himself resolutely that he surely imagined the entire thing.

But he did not imagine it, he knows this; the knowledge lodges in his mind, burrows down into his consciousness and curls around his common sense, stokes his curiosity.

He saw a merman.

Merpeople do not exist.

But he saw one.

He returns the next day, hoping perhaps to repeat the discovery, but he is the only visitor to the cave in the hours that he spends there. When the tide has gone out and come back in, high enough once more to cover the floor of the cave, when he has spent all day waiting with nothing to show for it, he admits defeat and swims back to his boat.

He returns again, and again, later each day with the drift of the tide, diving to explore beneath the surface when the cave remains empty. He finds nothing of note, nothing to hint at the existence of merfolk, nothing at all out of the ordinary; by day six, he is trying to convince himself to make peace with the likelihood that he will never find any trace of the merman he knows he had seen.

On day seven, the merman is back, sunbathing at the front of the cave again.

Only this time, he has human legs, is wearing swim trunks, is sitting further away from where Dream is treading water, stunned.

"…Hello," Dream manages.

"Hi," the man says, warmly polite. He is cross-legged with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them, one hand holding the other wrist; he is meant to look casual and relaxed, Dream is certain, but the tension and the nervousness coming off of him are palpable.

He is still beautiful.

"You're. I saw you here, before?" His thoughts are still trying to catch up; he hoists himself into the cave, doesn't move closer.

The man's shoulders drop a tiny fraction. "Yeah, yep! Startled me good, you did!" He chuckles lightly, a carefree and casual sound; the fingers of his dangling hand wriggle, a nervous and distracted sort of gesture that draws Dream's attention to the profusion of hair on his bare legs, and arms, and what Dream can see of his chest.

"You had a. A tail, last time," Dream says, somewhat awkwardly, tearing his gaze from the sprinkling of hair on the man's bare toes.

"Oh, that, yes!" The man grins, bright and disarming. "I'm a mermaid performer, with the, ah, the local carnival."

Dream is convinced this is a lie even as the logical part of his brain points out that this explanation makes far more sense than believing in merfolk. He knows what he saw, the flexing of muscle and the fanning of fins, the bending and twisting that did not match up to the way that human legs would move in that configuration. The merman speaks with casual confidence, but the tension in his frame and the nervous fidget of his clasped hand are easy to read.

"…No, I don't think you are," Dream says, and the man's bright smile dips before returning to full wattage.

"Calling me a liar, are you?" He laughs, a light and enchanting sound that Dream immediately wants to hear more of. "Merfolk, they don't actually exist, I'll have you know."

~ The wip tag has a tiiiny bit more of this one, also.

[wakacreations]

Raphael: I Am Always Waiting

Author's Note:

I saw this neat animation by @smnc45. I do not write Raphael often but I wanted to try my shot at their prompt.

Prompt:

Can someone please write Raphael x reader angst where they’ve been married for like 50 years and now it’s time for reader to pass on and they’re having this bittersweet moment together in reader’s final moments

Word Count: 2935

Summary:

The cat and mouse game has come to an end. When the mouse's time draws near who came out victorious?

It is almost that time again when a devil would celebrate the most joyous occasion. When a thumping of a heart becomes a precious coin. Currency to pocket, to twiddle between one's claws and to eye at the brilliance of its metallic polish. The great tragedies within these circular vessels tell tales to other archdevils of the beautiful follies of man. What depraved sacrifices they would make out of their own hubris. I have acquired many a coin through my millennia. There to amass my strength in the hells but I have grown fond of a few in my possession. There is but one that awaits, a soul coin that holds my palm so dear. I find you laying on your death bed.

You were but a mere mortal for some unforeseen circumstances were chosen by fate to be a tadpole inhibitor. It would be easy for I to acquire such a desperate soul. You truly were desperate you know. I watched from afar to see you squirm. You did shop around quite a bit before you accepted your only option left, mine. There were the words of a lullaby from Cormyr that I spoke to you when we first met. In those times, I called you mouse and I the fox but these days you call me a domestic house pet, a cat. You are lucky that I am quite fond of such creatures. Dogs are duller but I thought through your journey you would become one. You do look lovely chasing after my heels. Whether it be for that spawnling or that little swindler of a tiefling girl, you were adamant she wouldn't be in good care. Like an irritating pest, you entered my sactome where you do not belong despite your agreement to meet at Sharess’ Caress. You left quite a bit of chaos in your wake. Your flowing locks looked beautiful against the emerald glow of my pillars. Even now as you have aged so gracefully. I pluck a hair back behind your ear. 

“You had every right to kill me on that day.”

There were tears in your eyes as you resheaved your blade. Was that pity you showed me back then? You brought mercy on me as I was prone at my own door. You jumped through the portal with Hope and Mol’s contract in hand with not even a glance back. I am but the big bad devil in those fairytale stories you listen to when you slumber.

“I could never be anything more,” pulling back my hand.

Those all too familiar taunting eyes that stoked my obsession were before me. There is not anymore of you left in that feeble mind of yours. “You never did give me that crown I desire,” I chuckled dryly. You blinked at me trying to recognize these human features of mine.

“You spent the good first ten years running away from me, mouse.”

Through the hells you searched for the cure for one of Zariel’s warmachines and the “Blade of Avernus” close behind.

“All you needed to do was ask and we could have cut another deal.”

The next ten you were off in the Underdark away from the sunlight. You and that Spawn were off to find a cure. You knew I was still waiting for you as you felt my infernal heat lurking in the shadows. I held the artifact of your sole desire for your little “friend”.

“I could have dragged you into the Hells against your will, you contemptuous creature. You went willingly for that decade only in exchange for his precious sunlight!”

You just smiled at the words I uttered. Even when I had opened my doors for you, my House of Hope. Yet, you chose to find any means of escape for that time you spent with me in the Hells.

“I allowed you to rest in your own company in Faerun. I do take care of my pets.” I closed my eyes.

You wandered through the material plane with no company but my watchful eyes. The ten years you spent there, you looked so peaceful but what joy it was to tear you away from it all.

“You asked me to form one last contract with you. When your time ran out on your home plane.”

Your words echoed in my mind like an accursed song.

“I will show you why devils obsess with mortals. Why you yearn so desperately to chase me through the planes?” You looked up at the sky as you laid in a field of wildflowers. You never looked so at ease for as long as I watched you. “That's quite a presumption on your part, little mouse. I know when something or someone is of value,” blocking your view of the clear skies above. “Make this contract with me and in exchange my time will end as fate decides.” You reached your palm out to me. There is still that tenaciousness in your eyes. “What do I gain out of this exchange? It seems you think contracts are only for your benefit? Make me an offer I can't refuse.” I leaned down to get a better look at you. You waved your arm waiting for me to shake it. You never grew out of your childish ways have you? “Aren't you curious, Raphael? What is life's value to a mortal? You know the answer to. What is life's value to an immortal? Maybe I would change your mind? You would have my soul coin for all eternity, no?” You smiled that mischievous grin as such from the day you inked your name on our first contract. Your small hand wrapped in my heated infernal clawed grasp.

I have watched your struggles and your despair on the long nights on your journey. The begging to your companions to stay right of justice when uncertainty lies in wait for them. The screams of agony of whom you rescued meeting their untimely destined fate. The endless slaying of the army of the Absolute who set to cause chaos to your home, Faerun. The chosen three all prone to your blade but when it came time to pay your dues for a sacrifice to be made I answered your call. You couldn't stand by and become a mindflayer. Yet, you put that horrible image of tentacles caressing your body in the forefront of my mind out of fear of what is to befall you. There was luck I still held use for you when I put the Orphic Hammer in your palms. I reopened my eyes.

"You owe me more than you are worth." I restoked the fire when a little sneezed escaped you.

We have two different minds when it comes to being a savior. Your body is still riddled with scars as you take in your shallow breaths. I could have kept you the way you were before. I turned my head away from the sight of you now. Korrilla kept updates on your whereabouts after the fall of the Netherbrain. You still sacrificed yourself for those companions who've left nothing for you in return. There is a madness to you, mouse but perhaps is there abyssal that runs through your family's line?

“A debt is still owed by you, little mouse.” I attempted to coax a reaction out of you.

How many times must I catch you out of the clutches of Kelemvor? Day after day I watched you writhed in pain for unnecessary sacrifices you've made. Do you choose to run after death so eagerly? Withers, your Jergal will not be bringing you back! In the Hells, I helped vanquish Zariel’s forces when you scurried into her forges. I presented you with the means to free your darling, Astarion. I turned a blind eye when you still chose to meet with the other companions in your “solitude” in Faerun. What mouse could you show me what I haven't already known? What am I an immortal being could I experience that I haven't in my entire existence? You have proven to always surprise me.

“This last contract with you will be the death of me. I spent decades chasing you but I could enjoy this last one. We would make for such a great tragedy that would be played throughout the Nine Hells.”

For the last time you grabbed my hand into your own. You kept your promise and your word.

On the first night, you whispered such sweet words that could rival the burning alluring taste of succubi/incubi spittle. Was it because you have accepted your fate? When sleep cradled your head you sang a lullaby of your restless heart. Let your tears fall. There will be no other who will witness them. One night I overheard a confession in the privacy of the company of you and that Astarion many moons ago. “I like him too. But I'd never say it to his smarmy face.” Was such a thing true, little mouse? I watched as you stirred in your sleep. I left you that morning in your final home called Hope. 

Time is but a blink to the eyes of the Hells. I took you to see all I could offer you and what otherworldly indulgences mortals have spent with the precious coin they held in their chest. We watched a theater production of the Netherbrain and the valiant heroes who sought its demise. I had to jostle you from your insistent snoring. There you gave me your signature glare. I would admit the production does not do it justice. We fought and bickered like time never moved. 

You are quite frail these days. You got winded as we passed by the taverns you used to haunt. I asked you if you would make an addendum to our contract but you politely declined. Time will catch up to you as I eyed them. My, what former shadow you are now mouse?

You have been coughing as of late. You waved it off saying you were fine. The air in Avernus is not suited for those of sensitive lungs. I summoned forth a cleric to see to your care. You argued with me for the first time in a long while. I almost assumed the great savior of Baldur’s Gate was reduced to such a sorry state. I must have been mistaken.

The cleric came to my office to give their report. Our dwellings will need to be mended for you to exist in my home. They suggested a visit to Faerun will improve your recovery. I asked you at lunch, where do you plan to visit this evening? You would come back to the same conclusion… Baldur’s Gate. I don't blame you. The scars of that parasite did ingrain into you where you are supposed to be.. but you are free to go anywhere, now my dear. You still insisted that is where you wish to spend your time. By all means as we reappeared in the city square.

Your mind has been wandering for quite some time. You asked what had happened to your companions. Were they alright? Those would be appropriate questions if not for having conversed with them a moment prior before. If I knew you would start babbling like one of my debtors, I would have put having a sound mind as part of a clause. It was time for dinner but you still refused. You said I poisoned you whenever you ate. I made it clear time and time again it was to keep you in sound mind. You screamed at me. You wouldn’t become a mindflayer! I held you close and stroked your hair as you weathered another one of your fits again. I felt your tears soak through my doublet when I carried you to bed. Is this how you truly wish to spend the rest of our days, mouse?

How could you smile so sweetly on our final day together?

“You know, I have truly come to despise you.” Your hand squeezes my own.

“You do not recall half the words I utter!” I felt the hellfire coating my palm. You didn’t pull your hand away from my own when the flames threatened to engulf you. You wailed in agony but still you did not let go.

“What is the value of a life to an immortal?” Your words that day came back to my mind.

“Where has time gone?” For the first time my voice had wavered, the hellfire dissipated. You pulled my hand over your heart.

“You know my precious cat, devils love a good chase. If I were to give in to you long before, would you have obsessed with me just the same?” There is that giggle that rings like church bells.

“You never gave me much choice in the matter, little mouse.” I growled at them. Something rattled in my chest. What is this foreboding feeling? Tears streamed down your face. I couldn’t help but press my forehead against yours. How can such an insignificant being be so cruel.

“Open your eyes, mouse! Let me see you!” Your eyelids fluttered open. What was this feeling clawing at me?

”I gave you the freedom to choose the only option you had left,” you sniffled. Who were you to decide on when we should part? I couldn't take this anymore.

“Ask for anything, mouse and I will bring you life.” I felt their heartbeat slow beneath my palm.

“You wouldn't want that Raphael. You only desire the truth.” You shook your head.

“What do you know of me! You know nothing.” I should stop this accursed thing’s beating. You winced at my words.

“Raphael? Did you enjoy our time together?” You asked tentatively. You won't slip away, mouse.

“Of course, why wouldn't I have?” No, I had not enjoyed any of this charade but yet I told you otherwise.

“Good, I am glad. I am sorry for the amount of heartache I will leave you with. There is a reason why mortals are an indulgence to your kind.” Your voice cracked. The water works started anew.

Don't you dare, mouse..

“We make seconds seem like lifetimes. We make life meaningful in the mundane. We leave our mark that would be remembered for a millennia if we're lucky,” you smiled.

Don't you dare keep speaking.

“You know mortals can be like devils?” Your breathing slowed to a crawl.

“Demand anything, mouse and you will have it.” You didn't listen to a word I said. 

“Mortals can be obsessive too, you know? I think there is something wrong with me that I spent the last four decades running from them. I think their name is Raphael.” I smothered you in my arms.

“Stop with your babbling!” You still continued on.

“He is there watching me wherever I go. You know I never had anyone that would go to such lengths to get my attention.” That wasn't true mouse, all of your companions fought desperately for your attention. I squeezed you closer to my chest.

“Maybe I am insane for trying to maintain the obsession of a devil but.. I have known humans who are more devilish than the one at my heels.” I couldn't help but chuckle.

“You are not insane but just a foolish mortal. You all are in the end.” I whisper in your ear. Why do you only speak your truths now? You pushed me to loosen our tight embrace. I could feel you slipping away. Your time is near.

“I cannot let you do this mouse. I am in control of your soul.” What a beautiful coin it would make for my collection. You are nothing but my possession! That is what you solely are.

“But you know I wouldn't be me left. Your obsession with me will end on this day.” You held my head in your worn palms.

“I will tell you the truth, you longed to hear.” Blood rushed to my eardrums. Was this truly what I yearned for? Was this the way I wished to earn your coin? Your fingers ran through my hair. You cleared your throat. Your eyes never wavered from mine.

“I like him too. But I'd never say it to his smarmy face,” you choked out. Stop! Just stop, mouse! With ferocity our lips danced for one last time. Why must death's kiss taste so bittersweet? Our tears intertwined. My hand raised to cradle your head.

“I will not let you get the best of me,” as I pecked away your tears. I felt your tiredness in my arms. Your head nestled into the crook of my neck.

“We can make more time,” I pleaded. How far have I fallen? What was this emptiness? Why did it have to take your end for you to confess, Tav? I stroke your hair while you let out the last of your cries till silence fell over you.

“This won't be the end.” Your body settles against my own.

“Say anything! Something you pipsqueak!” My voice no longer sounded like my own. What have you done to me? I placed one long hard kiss at your temple. Something shattered from deep within.

“How could you not desire to live?” I choked on my words. I felt a sheer coldness that ached from within you. Mortals won't survive if they are cool to the touch. You no longer fought when I pressed you to my chest till you could feel the beating of this infernal heart of mine. You needed to feel warm again. The fires have long since extinguished. Loud inhuman wails echo in these empty grand halls.

“You are mine! Now and forever. For all eternity, my precious little mouse.”

[shepherds-of-haven]

How would the ro's react if one day they woke up and their hair was a completely different color? would they be devastated/try to figure out what happened?

Blade: I think it would depend on what color! If it was something like close to his original color, like brown, he'd probably be like, "oh" and assume it was like...... a natural process of like aging or something... and be mostly indifferent and go about his day because he rarely looks into mirrors anyway, so it doesn't really matter to him. But if it was something ridiculous like pink or white, he'd probably, like, wear a hood up/attempt to hide it from everyone while trying to figure out how to reverse it discreetly lol

Trouble: I think he'd be so stoked that he wouldn't even question it lol he'd be like YEAHHH MY HAIR IS BLUE THAT'S AWESOME! He'd just carelessly operate under the assumption that it could be reversed in some way so he'd just be excited to enjoy it lmao

Tallys: I think she'd be intrigued, she's not that attached to her hair color so she'd probably like the change and end up embracing it, honestly!

Shery: I think she would panic, her hair is like one of the few things she's proud of appearance-wise so she'd just be like "???? what's happening to me??? 🥺" She wouldn't have a full-on meltdown or anything, she'd just be really confused and distressed!

Riel: UNACCEPTABLE. ABSOLUTELY NOT. he's not letting ANYONE see him like this and he's locking himself in his room and communicating through the door until he or someone else can figure out what's happened to him and how to reverse it... (and how to punish whoever is responsible!) the theatrics of it all would be quite intense! (can you imagine if he turned blonde lmao?)

Chase: I think he'd be like "...huh. That's new." and would spend about an hour checking himself out in the mirror lol then he'd be like, "damn, I'm kind of hot with [color] hair... should I have been born a redhead??" In other words, he'd be fairly nonchalant and just feeling himself... like always. If people asked him about the color change, I feel like he'd insinuate that he'd done it himself just to troll them lol!

Red: I think outwardly he'd be pretty calm, like "oh! that's unexpected..." and mild-mannered and good-humored about it, like making jokes about it along with everyone when they exclaimed over it, but inside he'd be panicking just a little, he's a tiny bit vain so inside he'd be like 'please change back 🥹 I can handle this only if it's not permanent 🥹' He wouldn't be super frantic about it, though! Can't have anyone suspecting he really cares about his hair (they all know anyway) LMAO

Ayla: I think she wouldn't really give a shit, she could either be indifferent like "😒... didn't ask for that..." or she'd be stoked if she liked the new look better. If it turned out to be permanent she probably wouldn't really care either, she's not very attached to her hair color!

Briony: she'd be DEVASTATEDDDD, her pink hair is like a part of her identity (and also one of the few things that she kept from her past) so she'd probably have some sort of existential crisis where she'd look into the mirror and not be able to recognize herself and would be like "WHO AM I??? AM I STILL THE SAME PERSON IF CHASE CAN NO LONGER REFER TO ME BY VARIOUS PINK-THEMED NICKNAMES?....... WHAT IF PEOPLE CAN'T RECOGNIZE ME IN THE STREET ANYMORE, HOW WILL PEOPLE FIND ME?" She'd be spiraling lol

Lavinet: I think it depends on the hair color, if it was unflattering she'd be PISSED and would be on a scorched-earth campaign to get it reversed, but if it was flattering she'd be preening, she was planning on dyeing her hair sometime in the future anyway so this is not a big deal!

Halek: I think he'd be low-key excited, his white hair draws a lot of attention so an excuse to not have it while no one can tease him about vanity and deliberately dyeing his hair would be fun... at least for a little while!

[ser-estinien]

The Faithful Work of Drowning

Chapters: 3/?

Fandom: Persona 5 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Kurusu Akira & Persona 5 Protagonist's Parents Characters: Kurusu Akira, Persona 5 Protagonist's Parents, Akechi Goro, Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Takamaki Ann Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Relationship Avoidance, dating but also definitely not dating, parental pressure, Strict Parents, controlling parents, Abusive Parents, disappointing your parents, Character Study, Suicidal Thoughts, Jealousy, dating women to placate your mother, Physical Abuse, Blood and Injury, violent imagery, injury descriptions, Arguments, Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, But Akira is feeling some sort of way, Outing, homophobic parents Summary:

Akira Kurusu is a good son with esteemed accomplishments under his belt, but they're never enough for his parents. Stuck between wanting his parents' approval and detesting it, he feels locked in a cycle of unhappiness, unable to pursue the things he really wants. Enter: Goro Akechi. After six years apart, seeing his former rival stokes a fire in Akira that he thought he let die out. The only problem? Akechi wants nothing to do with him. Despite that, something keeps drawing them back together. Unfortunately for Akira, Akechi has no interest in someone who's stagnant and dissatisfied in life. Will Akira chase the aspirations he thought were out of reach or will he crumble under the pressure of his parents and follow the path they've neatly placed before him?

[thetypingpup]

(little bit of targaryen!xiaojun, 1.2k words, oral (female receiving), some hair pulling, and getting interrupted by a servant 😅)

The sun’s glow streams through the windows, as you bask in the heat of passion. 

Your breath puffs from your lips like smoke as flares of passion build between your legs. Xiaojun stokes the flares with his skilled tongue, running his tongue languidly along your slit and eliciting a full body shudder. He keeps his gaze on you as he explores your centre with his tongue, lapping at your folds at a steady pace. He tastes every part of you, savoring the heat emitting from your centre, and the sweet tang of your arousal that flows onto his tongue. The simmering heat between your legs intensifies as he hones in on your clit, flicking the sensitive bud with each stroke of his tongue, drawing out rhythmic gasps that linger in the air. He grips your thighs, the sounds of your pleasure kindling his own passion. Between languid licks, his tongue teasingly prods at your entrance, and you buck your hips, trying to chase those fleeting bursts of pleasure. 

There’s a smugness in his seductive gaze, and he hums right against your folds, making those flames of pleasure flicker exponentially faster. He presses against you, close, so close you can feel the curve of his smile against your heated flesh. You’ve been with him long enough to know that he’s provoking you, that he’s daring you to take what you want from him. He wants you to compel him to cease his teasing and give you what you crave. Weaving your fingers through his hair, you do just that. 

You lean back on one hand and push his head down with the other, driving his tongue deeper inside and pressing his nose to your clit. Wrapping your legs around his shoulders, you cross your ankles behind his back, locking him in. Your show of dominance draws a moan of delight from him, and his thick tongue languidly presses into you before thrusting at a steady pace. You bite your lip to hold back a shout as he fits his plush mouth over your core, shaking his head to run his nose back and forth over your clit. Each steady stroke of his tongue and press of his lips drives you closer and closer to your limit. He knows this, and is intent on making your ascent into ecstasy a slow build that breaks you down bit by bit. You care not for the audible rustling of the sheets, or how your moans get louder and higher in pitch, or the lewd slick sound of him ravenously feasting on you. Right now, you’re perfectly content to let the flames of pleasure overtake you.

All of that comes to a halt when you hear a knock at the door. Annoyance creases his face, and with a sigh he concedes and tells you to “Answer it” before ducking beneath the covers.

“Come in!” A servant steps into the room and you immediately stiffen. Xiaojun hasn’t stopped moving, not so subtly kissing your sensitive flesh, and you struggle to remain still as you feel the tip of his tongue sweep over your clit.

“Have you seen the prince?” The servant asks in an urgent tone. 

Gripping his hair to halt his motions, you stammer, “The last I saw of him he was...in the castle gardens.” 

The servant tilts her head and inquires, “Doing what, exactly?”

There’s a beat of silence before you decide to say, “Smelling the flowers.”

It’s not entirely inaccurate. He’s taking in the scent of something that can be likened to a flower, and you feel a titillating rush of air with his every breath. Still, he sucks on your thigh in jest for your poor excuse, strongly and sharply enough to make your body jolt.

The servant eyes you suspiciously, but doesn’t question further. Instead, she withdraws and tells you, “Right, well, when the prince returns from...wherever he is, do tell him to come to the Small Council chamber at once. His presence is requested.”

“Of course.” You nod, your tone pointed as you command, “You may go now.”

After a quick, customary curtsey, she briskly exits, and when the door closes you finally release the breath that got caught in your chest. 

“Smelling the flowers?” The sheets slip down his body as he emerges from them, “Was that truly the best you could come up with?”

“It’s a bit hard to think with your head between my legs, my love.” You quip, the playful bite to your words fading the longer you stare at him. Sections of his long blonde hair have escaped the confines of his ponytail and fall on either side of his face, curtaining his face with a deceptively angelic hue. 

“Am I truly so distracting, my love?” He places his hands on either side of your body, muscular arms caging you in so you can’t perceive anything but him and his coy smile.

You roll your eyes and playfully scoff, “You know there’s nothing more distracting than that mouth of yours, and you also know that you have royal matters to attend to.”

He shrugs it off, taking your chin in his hand, and keeping his gaze fixed on you, “I’m not king yet, so whatever matters I have to attend to aren’t nearly as important as this.”

“But you will be, and you still have duties. You still need to make appearances.” You retort, albeit half-heartedly, because at present the only appearance you wish to make is completely naked in your husband’s arms.

“As do you, My Lady, and yet here you are with me.” Leaning in, he murmurs seductively against your lips, “As far as I’m concerned, my only duty right now is to make sure my wife and future queen is happy, and I have a feeling you’ll be much happier if I get to finish what I started.”

Your lips connect in a series of searing kisses that have you sighing into each other’s mouths. Your hands wind around his neck and you pull him closer, craving more of that delicious heat he doused your body in mere moments ago. Your legs spread wider on their own accord, as if you’re attempting to entice him simply with the subtle quivering of your core against his cock. If the way he groans and rolls his hips down is anything to go by, sliding his cock right between your folds, it’s certainly working.

Right before you allow yourself to get lost in the sensation, you pull back and breathe out your next words, “We should go. We should at least eat.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?” He counters slyly, reaching down to grasp your thigh.

“Xiaojun, everyone is waiting for us.” You insist, though you sound less than enthused by the prospect of leaving this room. In truth, you’d much rather stay here and let your prince continue to pleasure you, and he knows it.

“Court can wait. Court can always wait. It’s not going anywhere.” He insists, slowly making his way back down between your legs, “But moments like this, my love, are fleeting. And if I’m made to wait another moment to enjoy you, I’ll surely go mad.”

With a sly grin of your own, you let your hand grip his hair once more and nod, “Then by all means.”

[chaoslulled]

( @pontevoix knows what they've done )

soft  slippers  bought  from  mitras  guide  his  path  back  to  the  chambers  that  he's  begun  to  call his  own.   it's  still  strange  to  call  them  that   ––   they  belonged  to  erwin  before  him,   &   that  alone  is  enough  to  set  his  teeth  on  edge.   he's  moved  into  shadis'  quarters  now,  something  much  bigger  with  more  chambers   &   more  luxury.   levi  has  scrubbed  every  surface  down  twice  until  his  fingers  were  red,  determined  to  chase  out  the  scent  of  his  cologne.   the  scent  of  erwin  that  stuck  to  everything  around  him.

but  they're  comfortable  enough.   there's  a  main  room  with  a  fire  place  to  keep  the  room  warm.   in  the  back  there's  a  desk.   there's  a  chamber  off  of  it  that  the  door  is  normally  closed  to  as  well  that  he  has  dubbed  his.   a  simple  cot  with  simple  sheets,  but  bigger   &   more  comfortable  than  the  bunks  that  he  had  slept  in.   there's  a  dresser  there  too  with  his  change  of  uniforms   &   nothing  more.   he  keeps  it  quiet,  simple.   like  he  could  disappear  at  any  moment,  because  that's  how  he  likes  to  keep  things.

his  fingers  move  to  grab  the  handle,  but  he  can  see  it's  already  ajar.   eyes  narrow  as  he  shoulders  his  way  in,  hair  still  dripping  from  the  showers.   when  he  kicks  it  closed,  he  does  it  hard  enough  to  startle  whoever  is  in  there,  fingers  nimble   &   locking  the  door.   but  all  he's  greeted  with  is  a  blonde,  one  that  occupies  this  space  more  often  than  not  now  days.

they've  never  given  a  shit  about  protocol  before.   they  still  don't.   they  may  be  part  of  the  survey  corps  now,  but  they  are  nothing  to  them,  stilll.   they  are  still  underground.   they  are  still  them.

but  there's  a  determination  in  farlan's  eyes  that  make  him groan,  pausing  at  the  door  to  toe  off  the  leather  slippers  that  are  lined  with  fur.   they  are  too  expensive   &   he  had  splurged.    he  had  gotten  farlan  a  pair,  too.   would've  grabbed  the  red  ones  for  isabel,  but  there  was  an  aching  hole  there  still  where  she  should've  been.

a  sigh  settles  from  his  lips   &   he  runs  his  fingers  through  raven  strands,  sock  clad  feet  carrying  him  over  toward  the  fire  where  he  stokes  the  flames  up  a  little  bit  more.   it's  a  pointless  move   ––   farlan's  already  done  so.

he's  perched  upon  the  edge  of  the  desk  now, watching.   levi  lets  out  a  careful  breath  through  his  nose.      〝   you're  not  going  with.   it's  just  a  trip  to  mitras  to  meet  with  the  higher  ups   &   sign  contracts  or  whatever.   a  change  of  guard  type  deal.   no  one  else  is  going,  either.   i'll  be  fine.   i'll  be  gone  a  day  at  most.   there's  no  reason  for  you  to  come,  far.   〞

they both  know  what  this  is really  about.

[whoficky]

Until Morning

Rating: Mature (I think?) Maybe explicit? Definitely NSFW.

Pairing: 10th Doctor X Rose Tyler

Work Summary: As a weary Doctor, Martha Jones and Jack Harkness prepare to take on the Master, they find their hideout isn't as secure as they thought.

In a burst of blue light, a dimension hopping Rose Tyler finally finds the Doctor, but time is still not on their side.

What if you only had one night to spend with the love of your life?

Chapter summary: Blimey, this was happening. In a dive of a room in a crumbling old jacket factory with heartbreak nipping at their heels. It was nothing like she’d ever imagined. She really didn’t care.

Chapter 7

The prickly feeling on Rose’s skin from earlier quickly fanned back to life as the Doctor did things with his tongue that set her blood on fire.  She felt everything with startling acuity - the friction of the fabric of her clothes against her skin, the slight eddies of air in the room against her tearstained cheeks, and most of all, the perfect roughness of his tongue as it caressed her own.  He was chasing away her fears and foreboding, bringing her back into the moment - back to just this, just being with him.   

She shivered when he slipped his hand under her shirt to sweep a featherlight touch across her stomach. 

“Still cold?” He asked in a husky voice.     

“You know I’m not.”

She felt him grin against her lips as he repeated the motion and started drawing little circular patterns around her navel.  

As marvelous as it felt, her neck was suffering from the awkward angle of their kiss and her hands itched to touch more of him.  He made a low sound of protest as she pulled away.  

“I was busy.”

“Patience, yeah?” she said, spinning around so she could face him.  

After a bit of awkward shuffling that left them both in breathless giggles she found herself straddling his thighs with his hands steadying her at her hips.  Her eyes met his and any trace of tears or laughter faded as she saw her own need and desperation mirrored there.

“Rose,” he breathed her name before pulling her back in for a heated kiss.  With his help, she quickly shucked her leather jacket and as soon as her hands were free, she plunged them into his hair.  She ran her fingers through his soft locks, teasing a groan from him when she scraped her nails against his scalp.  His hands did their own exploring, stoking fire everywhere they went - up and down her sides, running through her hair, exploring the thin strip of skin between her shirt and trousers.  His touch was driving her mad, but it was still not quite where she needed to feel him.  She was tired of dancing around this, and it seemed he felt the same.               

“C’mere love,” he growled as he hooked his fingers in her front belt loops and brought her down firmly onto his lap.  They both gasped at the intimate contact and something deep inside Rose clenched in anticipation when she felt how much he wanted her.

“Doctor,” she said breathlessly, smiling against his lips, “You do dance.” 

“Told you I did,” he panted, pulling away from her mouth to trail hot kisses down her neck.

“But we’ve been close before.  Shared - god, don’t stop - beds and...and all those tiny hiding spaces…snuggled in the library.  I never felt…” he cut her off with a searing kiss before he mumbled, “Time Lord.  Have a bit more control than humans.  Was trying to be a gentleman.  Follow the rules.”    

“And now?” She shifted over him, her eyes fluttering shut as he groaned and bucked up into her where she was aching for him.

“Long past that,” he growled, “That ok?”

“More than,” she breathed.  

Blimey, this was happening.  In a dive of a room in a crumbling old jacket factory with heartbreak nipping at their heels.  It was nothing like she’d ever imagined.  She really didn’t care.         

 The Doctor’s lips trailed down the other side of her neck until he nosed her shirt aside to nip at her collarbone.  She whimpered at the sharp feel of his teeth, holding him close by the back of his head as his tongue came out to sooth the mark he’d left on her skin.  She started a slow undulation against him, relishing the feel of his desperate groans vibrating into her skin as he continued to suck and nip at her chest.  But it wasn’t enough.  The friction was delicious, driving her absolutely mad, but she wanted to feel his skin, all of his skin against her own.  And there were still too many damn layers in the way.  

“Doctor, please,” she whimpered,  “I…I need…” 

She didn’t have to finish the sentence.  In a move that left her ears ringing and black spots dotting her vision, he jumped to his feet carrying her up with him.  He spun them around, pinning her against the wall and snaking a leg between hers to hold her up when her knees couldn’t quite support her weight.  He was back attacking her lips before she’d fully gotten her bearings.  She moaned into the kiss and ground against his leg as her hands got to work.                

“This off,” she said, tugging at his suit.  It was all she could do not to tear it off him, buttons be damned.  But she knew she couldn’t.  He only had the one, after all.  She didn’t want to send him off into an apocalypse with his suit and shirt flapping open.  Not if she couldn’t be there to watch.  She giggled against his lips at the image.

“What?” he asked, looking down at her, dazed and lovestruck and so damn sexy she’d thought she’d combust.

“Just picturing you swanning in to save the world tomorrow with a bare chest after I rip this bloody thing off you.” She managed to rid him of his tie and work a few more buttons free as she spoke.

He laughed, and she felt it puff against her lips and rumble through his body into hers.    

“Can’t have that.”

He helped her with the remaining buttons of his suit and shirt, stealing kisses as they went, until both items were strewn somewhere among the factory jackets on the floor.  Instantly, her hands were on him, exploring this new bit of Doctor revealed to her.  She mapped the planes of his abdomen and chest, his strong, wiry physique better than any fantasy she’d imagined when she had contemplated what he hid under all those layers.  Rose raked her hands through his smattering of chest hair and rubbed her thumb over a nipple, delighting when he hissed and bit her lower lip in response.  But as soon at she ventured lower, feeling his stomach twitch under her teasing touch, he growled and captured both of her hands to pin them up over her head.      

“Your turn.  Need to see you.”

“Yes,” she agreed, keeping her arms up just long enough for him to tug her shirt up over her head.  Her bra quickly followed although she wasn’t quite sure if that was her work or his.  With their chests now bare, she was desperate to feel his skin on hers, but she managed to hold still, letting his heated gaze rake over her.  

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he said, tracing a single finger up her waist and across her chest.  She shuddered, feeling her nipples pebble in response to his touch.  She was entranced as his eyes darkened even further at her responsiveness, marveling that her body, that she could elicit such a look on the Time Lord’s face. 

“Can I?” he asked, his fingers continuing on their slow, tortuous path of light touches.

“You better.” 

His touch became bolder, more firm as he finally cupped her breast, kneading her flesh and brushing his thumb in tantalizing circles that shot heat right to her core.  

As her mouth traveled along his jaw and down his neck, he began to babble in a low, dark voice.

“Wanted this, wanted you for so long.  You’re so warm, so perfect…ah!” He gasped and bucked into her when she sucked hard where his neck met his shoulder.  He pressed her into the wall with his whole body and she moaned and shuddered at the feel of his cooler skin on her burning flesh.       

“Tell me,” she whispered in his ear as her hips moved against him in a slow, deliberate rhythm.  “Tell me what you wanted.”  

“You.  Always you.  Wanted to touch you, feel you hot and tight around me, hear you screaming my name when I make you come.  Thought about it all the time.  You’re bloody distracting, you know that?”  

“Yeah?” She encouraged, needing to hear more of his husky voice as she busied her self with leaving a string of love bites across his chest - something else he could take with him tomorrow.  But no, she wouldn’t think about that now.  Wouldn’t think about anything but him and the last barriers that were finally dissolving between them.  

“Oh yes,” he husked, “Thought about what I’d do to you on the jumpseat, against the console, library sofa, in a dozen different prison cells, that room on Klop Tor, my bed.  Gods Rose, the thoughts I’ve had of you in my bed.”

“Mmmm,” Rose hummed in agreement against his skin, “Should have taken me there, Doctor.  Thought about you all the time too.  When I was alone.  In my room.”

“You…you did?” he asked in amazement.  As if she wasn’t currently doing her best to shag him through their clothes.  “You thought about...”  

“Yes Doctor,” she hissed as a wave of pleasure shot through her when he moved against her at just the right angle.  God, she was already close and they still had half their clothes on.  He hadn’t even touched her where she needed him most.  But his voice, the taste of his skin, and the delicious friction between them was tightening the coil deep inside her.   

“Daft alien.  Told you, you had me since ‘run.’  Don’t make me wait any longer.  ‘M so close and I wanna come with you inside me. Please.”

The Doctor swore in a lyrical language that didn’t translate and stepped back so they could both strip out of their remaining clothes.  She was so intent on figuring out how to kick off her trainers while her trousers tangled around her ankles that she shrieked in surprise when he swept her off her feet with an arm under her knees and one cradling her back.

“Shhhh,” he admonished, his warm breath caressing against her ear as he moved them away from the wall, “Soundproofing in these old buildings is rubbish.”

She pulled at his hair, tilting his head until their foreheads were touching. “I make no promises.”

“Minx,” he chuckled darkly.

Then he kissed her deeply as he lowered her down into a nest of down and jackets before sitting up on his heels at her side.  He was gorgeous, bare before her in the moonlight.  She only got the briefest moment to take him in before he bent down to tug off her trainers and the rest of her clothes, tossing them somewhere behind him.  

“I wanted to go slow,” he said as he kissed a trail of fire up her stomach, pausing to nuzzle and suck at her breasts, “Don’t think I can.”  Thank god for that.  She needed to feel him inside her now, more than she’d ever needed anything in her life.  

“Mmmm, I think years of foreplay is more than enough, don’t you?”

“Oh yes!” he growled, finally nudging apart her thighs to make room for himself where he’d always belonged.  “And there’s always next time,” he promised, sending a wave of warmth through her that went far beyond lust.  God, she loved him.  And the promise of more with him, a future, even if it was just tonight soothed some of the ache inside her.  Next time.  She pulled his head down to hers and poured all she was feeling into the the press of her lips and the dance of her tongue against his.               

Rose groaned and writhed underneath him when he reached down to part her folds and circle a finger around her entrance.  Another strain of that lyrical language came from his lips when he felt how ready she was for him.  She’d never heard anything like it before this night, and she wondered how something so beautiful could drive her so mad with want.  He rested his forehead on hers as he took himself in hand and she felt him nudging her entrance as something warm and bright nudged at her mind.  

She’d always wondered if there would be anything alien about making love to the Doctor, and she’d decided long ago what her answer would be if there were.  

  “Yes,” she said to both, opening to him completely, body and mind.  Then the words he was babbling were reverberating through her very soul as he thrust in to fill her completely.

Rose cursed and then bit down on his shoulder as she was overwhelmed by sensation, by how right he felt inside of her,  by the love she felt reflecting back and forth between them.  He stilled just long enough for her to adjust and was moving before she could get out the worlds to let him know she was ready.  At her first thought of his fingers on her, his hand snaked down between them.  

So this was sex with a telepath, her every want, every desire communicated to him instantly.  And as she pushed deeper into that glowing tempest in her mind that she recognized as him, she felt what he was feeling too.  She felt the white hot pulse of pleasure that came over him when she clenched around him, so she did it again.

“Gods Rose,” he said out loud, “Not gunna last if you keep that up.”

“M’ close,” she assured him, “So close.  Fuck you feel so good.”

She wrapped her legs around his lower back as she begged him to move faster, deeper.  Let go she sang into his mind, needing to feel him lose all remnants of control.

She was hovering on the edge, meeting him thrust for thrust and then with a sound that was pure hunger, he changed the angle so he could hit even deeper inside her.  With a cry of his name her world exploded in a pleasure more pure than anything she’d ever experienced.  It seemed to go on forever as he pounded into her and sang beautifully desperate words into her mind.  She was still pulsing around him when he stiffened above her and cried out his own release.  In that moment she was rendered completely insensible, blinded by the white hot light of their shared ecstasy.    

A small eternity later, the Doctor collapsed on top of her as they shuddered through the aftershocks and came back down from what, for Rose at least, surpassed her wildest dreams of passion and pleasure.  

“Mmmm, me too,” he said in a gravely voice, as he rolled them until he was on his back with her snuggled into his side.

“Still in my head, then?” she hummed, floating in a happy daze, “How long will that last.”

“Not long,” he said, and she felt his regret through the slowly fading presence in her mind.

Rose bit her lip, debating, but then decided there was no sense in holding back now, “S’ there…is there a way it could be?  There longer I mean?”  Permanent, she thought, surprised to be wishing with all her heart for something she didn’t even know existed until a few minutes ago.

He propped himself up so he could kiss each of her eyelids and then the tip of her nose, “No, love.  Not with us going back to being stuck on opposite sides of the void.”

Oddly, the words didn’t bring the sorrow she braced for.  Instead, she felt an unexpected sense of hope, though she wasn’t sure who it belonged to as they continued to drift around each other in a blissful, sated haze.

“But…someday?” She asked.

He smiled down at her and the hope in her mind, his hope, brightened with all the beauty of a sunrise, “Oh yes, Rose Tyler.  Someday.  Definitely someday.”

[chimindity]

Online boyfriend

Summary | Chase catches his sister sneaking out and confronts her when she gets back. Request by @mirellef2001

Pairing | Chase Stokes & sister!reader

Warning | Chase being a protective brother, angst?

A/N | why are the pictures big like that? I wrote the plot like this!! (Cause this could be dangerous to meet people you don't know very much, and I wanted to write Chase as a protective brother!)

⸝⸝⸝ ꒰ ❣ . 　⁺ 　 . ❣ . 　⁺ 　 . ❣ ꒱ ⸝⸝⸝

The moment your mom tells you that you're all going to Washington, you couldn't be happier. This is where your online boyfriend lives. Even though you've only known him for three months, you've become attached to him. Tonight, as soon as your parents and brother go to sleep, you have an idea about sneaking out to finally meet your boyfriend for the very first time.

You quickly pull a baggy shirt to cover your short dress, the one you've planned to wear when you meet your boyfriend, you jump as you hear Chase's voice calling out your name and opening the door. -"Fu— Chase! Please knock before coming into my room, that's what locks are for," you sigh, sitting down at the edge of the bed, trying to act as natural as possible.

-"Why would you lock your door? Anyway, mom and dad are going to sleep, and so am I, so please don't make too much noise," he holds the doorknob as he speaks, analyzing your room, expecting to find something abnormal for the reason you are acting a bit different, you simply nod and give him a warm smile as he closes the door.

You make sure he's really gone before you start pulling your sweater over your shoulders and tugging down your dress as it's ridden up with the sweater. You stumble your way to the window and slowly open it as silently as possible, closing your eyes every time the window makes a noise, hoping your brother won't wake up.

You climb out of the window and carefully land on the ground, not even thinking twice about whether it's a good idea or not. You couldn't wait to finally meet your boyfriend that you didn't even realize you forgot to turn off the light in your room. You start running to the park where he has told you to meet him there.

The more you walk into the park, the more you get scared. After all, he's just someone you've met on the internet. You keep looking over your shoulders every now and then, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your dress as you hear footsteps coming toward you. You call out your boyfriend's name.

When all of sudden, Chase shows up out of nowhere, you recognize your pink phone case in his hand and realise that you have left your phone on your bed, -"Chase!" You yell, as if he were the one in the wrong, he didn't say a word but grabs your arm -"no, I'm the one who should be talking" he turns on your phone, then he brings it infront of you.

-'I can't meet you, I'm sorry we need to break up'

You don't remember sending this message, and it finally tilts in your mind. You glance up at Chase as soon as he tucks your phone back in his pocket. -"Don't you realize how dangerous it could have been? Are you even thinking straight? Meeting someone you met online in the night?" He looks down at you, his firm tone causing your eyes to well up with tears.

You yank his wrist off your upper arm and turn to face the tree beside you. "I can't believe you went through my phone! I loved him, Chase!" you sob, fists clenching around your dress. "I don't even want to hear you throw a tantrum. Get back here, and let's go home," he rolls his eyes and lifts you up over his shoulder.

You squirm in his grip, feeling betrayed by your own brother, not even realizing he might have saved your life. -"You're lucky I didn't tell mom and dad," he spits. He gently guides you through the window before climbing in as well. You sit on your bed, smudged mascara around your eyes as you sheepishly look at your brother.

-"May I know what's that look for?" He asks, looking for one of your pajamas, you roll your eyes as you try to reach your phone in his pocket before getting your hand yanked away. -"Don't even think about it," he holds your wrist and hands you a set of pajamas instead.

He walks out of your room and looks at you. -"Go to sleep, or I'll tell on you to mom and dad," he speaks before closing the door, leaving you alone in the dark as you change into your pajamas.

Taglist

@mirellef2001 @nemesyaaa @jjsfavgirl @marvelfanfics1 @flora-eva @mrvlxgrl @wearemadeofstardust0 @ziggyfaremen

[scarletttries]

Countdown to Midnight (Adrian Chase One Shot)

Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante (Peacemaker) x F! Reader

Rating: Explicit, I had a lot of fun thinking about how weird Adrian's dreams would be 😄 Some Dub-Con in dream number four, as reader is asleep - avoid if uncomfortable with somnophilia.

Word Count: 3.6k

Author's Note: My little New Year offering of smut (almost without plot) for everyone on their Vigilante shit this festive season <3 Thank you to everyone still sending me Vigilante-related messages, he will always be my number one 💖

Countdown to Midnight (part of my Christmas List)

Five times Vigilante dreamt of you, and the one dream that came true

1. "What's on your mind Adrian?" You asked softly, reaching over to rest your hand on his, a gentle offering of support as he tried to find the words to sum up the feelings threatening to burst out of their own volition.

"I really like you. More than as a best friend even." The words felt heavy as they passed his lips, his hopeful eyes staring up at you from behind his wire-framed glasses, desperate to find any hint in your expression. He watched as you slowly rose to your feet, the weight of the bed shifting beside him as you turned to face him.

"Thank you for telling me Adrian." Your voice was as sweet as your smile as you placed a hand on either of his shoulders. His eyes drifted to your thighs as they settled across his, your weight lowering onto his lap, straddling him so he could feel the undeniable warmth your bodies held for each other. You lifted his chin with two fingertips until his eyes locked onto yours, still unsure of if his feelings were requited, but the butterflies building up his stomach stoked the fires of hope. His breath stilled in his chest as you leant forward, ever so gently letting your lips find his for a single moment, then pulling back to see his reaction. A beaming smile was instantly across lips, the only thing holding him back from kissing you again as he let his feelings finally come free,

"I love you!" He said excitedly, your happy grin setting his heart alight as you opened your mouth to say the words Adrian longed to hear, but instead some distant melody poured out,

"I'm a barbie girl.." The song snapped Adrian out of his sweet dream, and back into a far more disappointing reality.

"Yeah," he answered the phone despite his mind still being deeply under the blankets around him, wishing he could have stayed asleep just long enough to hear you say those precious words back. He'd get there one day.

---

2. "Adrian! I missed you." You called out excitedly as Adrian stepped through the door of his little apartment, locking it quickly as he heard you bound down the hall towards him.

"I missed you too." He replied, a little confused that he couldn't remember his drive home, but letting that thought drift away as quickly as you came into view, the happiest to see him Vigilante had ever seen someone look. As he stepped forward you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his chest tightly against yours as your lips met his. You hummed happily into the kiss, Adrian taking a moment to respond but quickly taking the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips, feeling like it had been forever since his lips had met yours. Your kiss was the sweetest taste he could picture, his hands instinctively gripping your hips to ensure you couldn't disappear now that finally had you where he wanted you.

"Did you have a tough day at work? Want me to help you relax?" You purred running a fingertip down his chest as you swayed your hips against his. His tongue seemed to malfunction as you reached the threshold of his belt, Adrian having to settle for just nodding at your request, eyes widening in pleasant surprise as he watched you sink to your knees in front of him. You looked up at him with a suggestive smile as your unclasped his belt, pulling his pants down far enough to free his now hard cock, licking your lips as Adrian watched, his stomach jumping inside him at the hungry way you stared up at him.

As you wrapped your palm around his length, Adrian practically fell back against the wall, the sweet relief of finally feeling your touch better than he had imagined it, knowing immediately he would always want more. His eyes darted open as a fresh sensation sent sparks through his veins, the tip of your tongue running over his exposed tip, the happy noise you made as you lapped up the smear of glistening excitement there threatening to make his legs collapse all together. As if you could feel his weakening knees, your hands wrapped around his thighs for support, letting your nails scrape along the sensitive flesh as you took his length between your lips, your mouth welcoming him so warmly Adrian truly thought he might have died and gone to heaven in that moment.

"You're. So. Good." He panted out, wanting this moment to last forever but knowing it wouldn't be long until he couldn't hold himself back an. You smiled up at him with devilish glee as you replied, sarcarine sweet in your affections for him.

"You're so good for letting me take care of you Adrian. My good boy." Your praise seemed to take the air out of his lungs as you took him into your throat again, bobbing your head and humming in delight at the blissful groans your movements drew from him. He could feel his head swimming as his hips started to shake, only pushing deeping into you and drawing him to the edge,

"Fuck (y/n)." He groaned as he felt himself release, eyes darting open and suddenly in a much darker room than before. He darted upright, looking around before realising you weren't here at all. It was just another intoxicating dream, part of a steady stream since the day you'd joined the team a few weeks ago. A string of happy imaginations that threatened to ruin his job and sanity, along with his bedsheets. He needed to do something about this.

3. His mind raced with thoughts of you all through his drive home, the soft feel of your lips on him, the content hums you'd made down on your knees. Adrian knew he had to have you soon, to hear exactly what you'd sound like screaming his name, to make sure you felt the same way he did. Slotting his key into position, he was surprised to find his front door unlocked, pulling out a knife as he followed the sound of pants and whines that seemed to emanate from his bedroom. All thoughts of danger emptied from his mind when he found you there instead, exactly where he wanted you. The knife in his hand clattered to ground as he took in the sight of you, draped over his bed, covered only in a lacy teal lingerie and your own slick, fingers buried in your panties and desperate noises falling from your lips,

"Adrian, I need you!" You pleaded, looking up at him with desperate eyes, your thighs rubbing together as he watched your fingers plunging in and out of your soaking entrance. "I've been thinking of you touching me every day since we met, but I can't make myself cum. My fingers just aren't as good as yours and I'm so desperate." Adrian could feel his own chest tighten as he watched yours heave and fall as you tried to gain any relief to the pressure bubbling up inside of you. "Please touch me Adrian."

He didn't need to be asked twice, quickly shedding his Fennel Fields uniform and crawling across the bed until he could practically smell your arousal, his mouth watering as his lips fell to your exposed stomach, feeling you squirm in your almost painful sensitivity. His trembling fingers snaked up your thigh, overwhelmed with the anticipation of finally feeling your inviting centre, hips bucking against the mattress involuntary at the noise you made when he finally made contact. The thin fabric of your underwear was wet through with all your frustrated attempts to console yourself as Adrian slipped his fingers inside, think strands of your excitement coating his hand as he brushed gently over your clit, watching your whole body respond to his touch with a sharp jolt.

"Fuck, you're so good Adrian, please I need more." You moaned as he let his fingers slip inside you, bending them slightly in time with the pressure his thumb kept on your clit, free arm draped across your waist to stop your hips bucking away in overstimulation. He could feel his own excitement growing as you started to sigh out his name, the friction from his hand quickly bringing you to the illusive climax you'd been chasing so hard since the first time yours eyes had locked on his. Ignoring his own rutting need his tongue replaced his thumb, trying to fight back a smile as you praised his every move,

"Adrian, you feel so good. I need you, I'll always need you." You choked out, tears pricking your eyes as your drew closer to finally getting your release.

"Mmm, I love you." Adrian moaned against your sensitive bud, picking up the pace with his fingers and trying desperately to hold back his own excitement as he felt his hips stutter.

"I'm so close." You cried, weaving your fingers through his soft curls as your legs started to shake,

"Me too." Choked out Adrian, eyes clenching shut as he felt himself shot his own load over himself, warm and sticky and, all over his bedsheets.

When his eyes fluttered open he was once again in his room alone, dragging himself the shower to clean up his own mess again. But tonight he didn't feel as frustrated with himself as usual, because he'd made a plan. He'd suggested you and the team all go to a bar on New Year's Eve and was pleasantly surprised when you'd all agreed. In just a few days time he'd have his perfect chance to finally make a move.

4. Adrian could feel his whole body ache as another long night of Vigilante patroling came to close, the winter skies still not casting a single ray of light down on him as made he final stop of the night. His final stop of every night; your home.

He found he couldn't rest easy until you knew that you were safe, that you'd still be around when he woke up from his brief, frustrating sleep. He felt at ease scaling to the second floor of your apartment building, each pipe and railing familiar to him now as reached your bedroom window, pleased as always to see you safely asleep. You looked so perfect and peaceful, legs reaching out from under a little camisole that failed to cover any of the cheeks your tiny shorts left exposed. You'd left the window cracked open an inch, the weather unseasonably warm for December, a sign Vigilante took to mean he should come in.

He eased through the window and shut it behind him softly, not wanting you to stir in case your dreams were as frequently of him as his were of you. His feet carried him to the edge of the bed of their own accord, not stopping until his knees met the edge of your plush mattress. You let out a soft sigh in your sleep, your chest rising and falling gently with each breath, nipples rubbing against the sheer fabric, poking through for Adrian to clearly see. He could feel himself throb in his suit, palming himself slightly and sucking in a hiss at the desperate relief. Moving slowly so as not to wake you, he stripped off each item of his protective uniform, feeling himself grow more and more impatient as he watched your legs shift, exposing the outline of your slit through your soft shorts, so tempting Adrian knew you were inviting him in.

He draped himself across the bed beside you, trying to ignore the aching between his legs as he focused on you, reaching over to slip a hand under the strap on your shoulder, easing it down your arm until his hand could reach beneath the soft fabric and caress the curves of your chest. He could hear you whimper as he pulled his hand away for a second to give himself a better view, his cue to run the tip of his finger lightly of your exposed nipple, feeling it harden at his touch, drawing soft circles as his hips pressed slightly into yours. You let out a needy whine in your sleep, your body responding to Adrian's touch eagerly as he teased the soft circles of your chest, feeling your hips rock back against his, begging him for more. He could feel the wet patch spreading across your panties and his rock hard cock, keeping your back pressed to his chest as he moved his fingers to your clit. You flinched at the slight touch, letting out a moan and furrowing your brow in a way that made Adrian wish you'd never wake up. Your body and pleasure completely his to control, to play with however he wanted, to make you feel so good that even if you could stop him, you wouldn't.

He rubbed your sensitive bud through the fabric again, tracing shapes until he round a pattern that had you chasing his touch, hips bouncing against him until he thought he might explode from holding in his own desperate noises. He pulled his finger away, once again eliciting a pleading moan he savoured from you before sliding your sticky shorts down to your knees, the cold night air on your pussy making your squirm against his cock. He eased his fingers into your leaking slit, pulsing back and forth in a way that had your body shaking, walls clenching in the need to feel fuller, to feel him deep inside you. He let the arm supporting him weave under your neck while the other returned to now exposed clit, even more responsive to his touch without a thin layer of fabric in the way. He strummed it again and again, rubbing you with your own slick, the vibrations surging through you until he could feel you getting close, your body shaking again his, pussy clenching around him as he finally pushed his aching erection inside. He watched as you eyes fluttered slightly at the intrusion, the volume of your own moan the thing that woke you up, eyes snapping open in panic.

Brushing more quickly over your clit, Adrian clamped his other hand over your mouth, keeping you in place and silencing your objections and pleas before you could voice them.

"You're so close (y/n), I've made you feel so good. See?" He slammed his hips into you, your body trembling with overwhelming sensation as if to prove his point, "don't ruin it, just let yourself cum all over me, I can tell you're almost there." His voice perfectly toed the line of sweet and caring, dark and controlling, the expert brush of his hands bringing your imminent release whether or not you wanted it. He could see a tired tear roll down your cheek as you let out a muffled cry into his hand, body shaking as the tension bubbling up inside you overflowed, cumming hard around Adrian who watched excitedly as every inch of you trembled at his touch, riding out your orgasm through his strumming strokes on you until finally he felt his own release, the feeling you scream against his hand again as he filled you with his load, fucking it back into for good measure before finally pulling out of you and rolling over to catch his breath.

He leaned over to wipe himself off on your ruined shorts, confused to find only his own blanket for company, slamming his hands down against the bed in frustration that he had dreamt it all again, sure this was your fault. If you hadn't given him that bashful smile when Adebayo joked about needing to find you all an appropriate stranger to kiss at midnight that weekend, hadn't given him that glittering sparkle of hope he always saw in your gorgeous eyes, well maybe he'd be able to get a good night's sleep. But that wasn't fair to you, Adrian thought, you couldn't help being perfect anymore than he could help falling head over heels in love with you.

5. "What's on your mind Adrian?" You asked softly, reaching over to rest your hand on his, fingers intertwining as you lay your head on his chest, pulling the soft blankets over your shoulder to shield you both from the cold.

"Just you. Always you." He replied contently, shifting you slightly so his lips could find yours, a sweet warm embrace he knew he'd do anything to feel again and again.

"Right back at you." You replied with a grin, before leaning in to kiss him again, ready and willing to waste another sunday morning draped over Adrian in bed, domestic perfection your new status quo.

"I'm so glad you married me." He whispered into your kiss, the words falling from his mouth of their own accord, like it was a fact he'd known deep-down, all along.

He startled upright in bed, frustrated by the constant stream of disruptions to his sleep, but feeling his chest flood with warmth at the vision he'd had, unsurprised to find himself hard again despite the dreams unusually tame content. He dragged himself to the shower, not enough time before his shift to bother trying to fall back asleep, accepting that his head was full of thoughts of you as he rubbed over himself, bringing himself quickly to an almost satisfactory climax at his own touch. He felt relief as he let the water pour over him though - it was finally December 31st, and tonight he'd offer you a midnight kiss and finally get his answer.

---

"Adrian!" You called out happily as he walked up to your table, a little late to the party after taking the time to change out of his work clothes. You felt the usual explosion of glitter in your stomach as he smiled at you, crooked and squinting like a child seeing fireworks for the first time, awestruck and magical. You noticed the slight dark lines below his eyes today though, a worried frown flashing across you face as you tried not to offend him.

"You look a little tired, everything okay?" You asked softly, your caring concern for his well-being just one of a thousand things that had Vigilante dreaming about you night and day. He wanted to tell you the truth; that he hadn't had a good nights sleep in what felt like weeks because he couldn't stopped dreaming about you - fucking or married or both. But he'd save that conversation for another day, conscious of not doing anything off-putting before the clock struck twelve.

"Just didn't sleep well last night." He dismissed, grabbing the beer Chris set down in front of him before his loud mouth could get him into trouble.

"Well let's just hope you can stay awake until midnight then." You joked, tapping his glass with yours and turning back to the rest of the table as the conversation flowed. Vigilante was confident that he'd make it to twelve, checking his watch religiously, counting down to midnight.

" What's on your mind Adrian?" You asked softly after an hour or so, noticing him seeming far more interested in his watch than the rest of the table, uncharacteristically quiet for the usually chatty anti-hero. He seemed to jump at the words and eye you suspiciously, getting deja-vu for the phrase after hearing it in his sleeping state more than once. He sighed in defeat, no longer confident on the difference between dream and reality and needing to act on whichever one he was in now.

"I really want to kiss you, but it feels like it's taking forever to get to midnight." He admitted, stomach twisting at the giggle his honesty drew from you. You were a little surprised; it was hard to know how much of Adrian's behaviour was flirty and how much was just his dedication to being a good best friend. But as he stared hopefully at your happy expression, you were glad you finally knew which one it was.

"Well you could kiss me now, and then again at midnight?" You offered, watching him turn the suggestion over in his mind,

"Okay, but before I do, I need to ask you a weird favour." You braced yourself, "Pinch me."

"What?"

"I need you to pinch me so I know this isn't a dream." You raised an eyebrow at his serious tone, teasingly responding,

"Do you dream about me alot?" Adrian let out a laugh loud enough that half the bar seemed to turn around to look at the cause.

"All the time. It's becoming a problem."

"Maybe you can tell me about some of those dreams next year." You asked suggestively, watching Vigilante frown at how far away that sounded before remembering what day it was and breaking out into a smile. You used his moment of realisation to pinch his thigh sharply, watching him flinch at the sting,

"Hey!" He called out angrily, immediately forgiving you as you leant forward, pressing your lips to his softly, placing your hand back on his slightly wounded thigh. His hands flew up to catch your face, needing to feel you were real, to taste your lips while he was awake enough to remember it, his heart hammering in a way it never did when he was dreaming about you.

No this was better. He grinned as he leant forward to chase your lips with his, confident he could keep this up until midnight. This was a dream come true.