#dark blue that looks mainly black

[mezzmerizd]

so funny thing that happened on twitter-

and erm, i got some help and feedback from more knowledgeable people (@leoincaps) soooo-

Young Emo Tango & Scene Skizz respectively :3

[arolesbianism]

It always scares me sm whenever I see dst fanart that gives characters colored eyes. Like no stop that why is there a blue eyed white boy on my screen

[ramonathinks]

BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB

stuck in an elevator with the three elite billionaire sons of Bruce Wayne.

tags: (18+) fingering, squirting, pet names (doll face, baby, sweetheart), dry humping, dirty talk, ripping of clothes, confided spaces, brothers who share, oral (f!receiving), making out, hickies, nipple play, kinda exhibitionism (???), foursome, mention of breeding kinks, praise

notes: i imagine reader as black but i don’t think i used any physical description [repost!]

It was a tight fit. It had you rubbing your thighs together to calm the heat and aching throbbing between your legs. Crossing your ankles together you held your purse tighter and inhaled, trying to think of anything but your three bosses — but their presence was too powerful and overwhelming in this tight and suffocating elevator. Dirty and primal lust filled the air and you swallowed hard trying to ignore it.

They were all so tall, so lean and their muscular bodies took over all of the small space that you were confined in. Awkwardly rolling your hips, trying to ease your aches without being noticed, your body trembled a bit. Your stomach folded in as the mixed aroma of their colognes entered your nose — a musky smell of pine caused you to bite your lip.

The elevator was quiet besides the occasional rumbling but you couldn’t help but feel queasy, feeling as if they all were staring you down.

Quiet yet quick shuffling was heard before you noticed a tanned hand pressing yet another button. You tried to pay no mind to it until all at once the lights flickered and a loud bang started, you gasped aloud and backed back into a hard chest.

“S-sorry,” You stammered, pushing yourself off of whoever was behind you. You tried not to memorize the feeling that your hands felt of the muscular and broadness of his chest, your face felt hot and with the sudden change of temperature it was only worst.

“It’s fine, doll face.” Came the response of the one and only Jason Todd, his voice made you shiver with delight and the ache in your core returned again. Your blazer and tights making you feel stuffy and hot, as if you were wearing too many clothes. “You okay?”

You didn’t trust anymore of your voice but you nodded. Heat pooled between your legs listening to his deep and throaty voice and the nickname he bestowed upon you. Self fanning yourself a bit you looked off to the side, seeing Dick to your side, who winked at you.

“You’re looking pretty hot there,” Dick brought himself closer to your ear and blew a bit near your neck. He chuckled when you jumped back. “I don’t bite baby, you know, unless you like that kind of thing…” His piercing dark blue eyes scanned your face before eyeing your lips.

“No need to be scared.” Tim finally spoke up. You felt a shift in the air before he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in to his chest.

That’s when it clicked for you. Jason pushed the button to halt the elevator. As if reading your expression, their laughter shook the elevator. “Finally figured it out, yeah?” Jason’s eyes were equally piercing as Dick’s but it was the smirk and the white streak of hair that was making you fold.

“She’s been here, what..? About 3 months?” Dick quirked an eyebrow to him, who you felt nod against your shoulder. “Still haven’t noticed us… our stares… our conversations that we always try to rope you in… you just gave us nothing—”

“So we had to do something to get your attention.” Jason finished, bringing his calloused yet soft hands to caress your face, rubbing at your cheeks before removing your glasses from your face.

Grinding his hips against yours, Tim kissed the sides of your neck. Your breathing quickened with every tainting kiss before his mouth opened and then you felt pure wetness dripping down your neck. His thick long tongue licking up a pattern as he grinding himself more against you, you could feel how hard he was, how thick he was and just how big.

“I… I don’t understand…” You muttered, mainly to yourself. Trying to control yourself but your hips were already rutting against Tim’s, quiet moans leaving both of your lips.

“Shh…” Dick pressed a finger to your lips. “It’s nothing for you to understand. Just know… we’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now.”

“And we plan to make you understand every inch of it, baby.” Tim panted in your ear, you could feel his hands trailing up from your waist leaving a hot trail until he landed on your breast. “Jason, mind giving me a hand?”

It was almost too quick how Jason undid the buttons to your shirt, leaving both the shirt and blazer on, he was tempted to snap a picture. Looking at the position you were in made him want you even more. “So fucking beautiful.” He blew his breath on your nipples, watching them both get hard and erect.

He was never too big on sharing. But with his brothers? It was something different.

You yelped, feeling more heat hit your now bare legs as Dick stretched and ripped the flimsy fabric thighs you were wearing. He turned to look at Jason, “You owe me.”

With hungry eyes, Jason looked between your legs and sucked his teeth. “Fuck.” He groaned. Black lacy panties.

Was it wrong for the brothers to bet what type of panties you wore? Probably. But damn did it pay off.

Bumping his nose against your clothed clit at the same time that Tim tweaked your nipples you tried to move away from them, it was too much. “W-Wait!”

Jason moved closer to you and touched your face again, “Shh. It’s okay.” He cooed before he leaned towards, keeping his eyes on yours.

Everything happened all at once. Your eyes rolled back once you felt his tongue slither inside of your mouth with no warning, his brothers feeling you up it was almost too much for you to focus on — the rhythm of Tim’s hips, Jason’s tongue swirling inside of your mouth and Dick playing with your drooling covered pussy.

Jason applied pressure to your tongue before licking the insides of your mouth, both sides of the cheeks before he sucked on your tongue. Even with your eyes closed, you knew he was still staring at you. Each moan they pulled out of you, another one added pressure.

“Oh fuck,” Feeling Dick pulling your panties to the side and hearing him moan. Your slick wetness sticking to the black Lacy panties you were wearing. “Such a pretty mess down here.” He licked his lips. “Such a pretty little pussy, fuck, you like when I say talk to you down here baby?” As if the dripping all over wasn’t enough of an answer, he smiled before dipping his head down.

You held your breath, expecting him to get straight to the point. But instead, he kissed your thighs. Trailing deep kisses up and down, getting closer and closer to your clit every time. Your breathing uneven, Jason moved from your mouth to your breast, his teeth tugging on your dark nipples, still meeting your eyes.

Dick’s muffled moan drew your eyes to him. You watched as his wet tongue tugged at your folds before slurping up the juices that spilled out of you. Your legs were trembling and if it wasn’t for Tim, you would’ve fell over.

“You like what he’s doing to you, sweetheart?” Tim whispered. “Imagine what it’ll be like when I’m cumming inside of that pussy, you hear me? Matter of fact. When we’re all cumming inside of you, gonna birth a heir to this company, aren’t you?” He sucked on your ear lobe and your pussy tightened up when Dick tried to put his tongue inside of you.

“Don’t scare her off, Tim. He’s just playing around baby.” Jason told you, kissing the valley between your aching breast.

Parting the lips of your pussy with his fingers, Dick drove his tongue inside. “Oooh, I…” You we’re babbling. Wetness dripping on his face and even on his expensive shirt as he licked and slurped, nibbling on your puffy clit.

Tim didn’t like how left out he was, the brothers could see it on his face. With another long suck on your clit enough to make you even weaker on your knees, Dick rose up.

“W-wait I didn’t get to—” He covered your mouth with his, holding the sides of your face and massaging the breast that Jason was neglecting.

A sudden intrusion inside of your pussy made you moan aloud. You were so focused that you didn’t feel Tim parting you open for his fingers. “So fucking tight, right here. Such a small pussy. Can’t wait to break her in.” He purred, moving two of his fingers faster inside of you. His hips digging into yours, Jason now sucking on your throat. The gentle fiction from Tim’s slacks driving you even more crazy since his fingers are working too. Using his thumb, he pressed on your clit and dragged his thumb up and down adding pressure each time.

You were struggling to keep your balance. Your voice was hoarse as they had their way with you. Your entire body shaking while you whimpered against them, tightening up on Tim’s fingers and he groaned, stretching them inside of you.

With clenched teeth Tim told you, “Breathe. Fuck, sweetheart. It’s just me, just open up a bit more.” It was feeling good being stretched so good while two other boys felt you up with their hands and their mouths.

You were getting so dizzy. Your orgasm attempting to push through. You didn’t know how you didn’t come yet.

Licking up the pulse on both sides of your neck, Dick and Jason shared a look. You didn’t know what it meant until they both dropped to their knees and eyed your swollen clit.

“Oh you weren’t lying. I knew she’d be pretty. But this is truly a pussy, so smooth and bare.” Jason smirked, pulling your lips open, watching his brother’s fingers dipping inside. Then he moved forward and kissed your aching clit.

Your knees buckled and you threw your head back while Tim continued to hold you up and fuck you with his fingers. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Jason did a deep groan, putting your clit in his mouth and mouthing his head back before letting your clit bounce back before doing it again.

His tongue was putting in work, licking up and down your clit. Feeling another set of wetness you thrusted your hips forward, begging for more, not realized Dick had joined in on the assault of your pussy.

The strokes of their tongues plus Tim’s fingers moving and stretching you so deep, you rode out every feeling you possessed and when Tim pushed in deeper inside of your gummy walls that held him so tight, he pressed and circled your insides until he felt you clench harder than before.

It was the hardest you ever came, your limbs snapping, body shaking hard, babbling words and your pussy squirting out a clear liquid of slick on both of the boys below up, who happily drank it up. You felt drunk as you slid down to the ground.

With wild looks in their eyes, the brothers straightened themselves out, looking over your appearance. Dick pulled your blazer over you and Jason continued to rip the rest of your tights. Tim, got the elevator back on track.

The aftershocks of your orgasm still haven’t faded, your body still twitching and shaking. You could hear them talking to each other, “She’s completely fucked out. She won’t be able to go back to work like this.” Dick said.

“Can’t take her home or Bruce will have our heads for fucking with his best assistant.” Tim replied while Jason just laughed.

“Well,” Jason picked you up as if you weighted nothing. “I can always take her back to my comfy loft.”

Tim and Dick looked at him as if he was crazy. “So you could get started without us? Ha, very funny.” Tim snorted.

“Let’s just find her address on the company—” The elevator dinged and stopped, the doors opening to the person none of you wanted to see.

With wide eyes Bruce Wayne frowned at the sight. Putting a hand over his forehead he did a deep sigh, “Do I even want to know?”

The boys all shook their heads and Tim quickly pressed the button to the company garage. “Let’s just get something to eat first.”

“Works for me.” You yawned, looking dreamily at the three boys.

[whimsiwitchy]

we broke up (one shot)

hugh jackman x f!reader

summary: you get dragged to a work event by your boyfriend of three years when Hugh comes to flirt with you. after you reluctantly tell him you’re taken, he backs off for the most part. a few months later, Hugh tells the story during an interview but little does he know you’re single now. 

warnings: implied age gap (not mentioned), flirting while in a relationship (kinda)

authors note: here's a little oneshot I wrote tonight. enjoy <33

You’d been with your boyfriend, Rowan, for a few years now. He earned a degree in marketing and immediately got a job for a studio. While he enjoys his job and it brings in good money, the events he dragged you to were unbelievably boring. The company he worked for always had big parties after a success on a project. At first they were interesting, often running into celebrities here and there given that it was the success of their movie, but lately you found yourself sitting at the bar more often than not. It was routine at this point. Rowan would show you off for the first hour, then he would toss you aside to fend for yourself. You weren’t the biggest social butterfly, hence why you liked to sit alone, drinking. 

Tonight wasn’t any different. You were at another party for the successful marketing for Deadpool and Wolverine. You’d heard a few whispers that the stars of the movie themselves were somewhere wandering around but you hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing them. Rowan dumped you at the bar a little over thirty minutes ago and you’ve been sipping on some fruity little drink ever since, completely in your own world. You made small talk with the bartender every once and a while but you were mainly people watching. 

“Mind if I join?” A deep Australian accent asks. You look up and see a gorgeous older man. He was wearing a dark blue suit with a pair of black expensive looking glasses. He was deliciously tall and had a thich salt and pepper beard. “Uh no, go ahead.” He sits in the bar stool next to you. He orders a drink from the bartender before returning his attention back to you. “Pardon me if this is too forward but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” The comment takes you aback. “Oh um, thank you. That’s really sweet of you to say.” He looks down to your glass that’s nothing but melted ice at this point. “Can I buy you another drink?” He asks. “You probably shouldn’t. I’m taken…sadly.” You whisper the last part, unsure if he heard it or not. “Oh! I apologize for coming on to you. You’ve been sitting here by yourself for so long, I thought you might have come alone.” You huff out a laugh. “My boyfriend works for the company. He’s out there socializing or whatever.” You shrug and signal to the bartender, asking for another drink. “That’s a shame. If you were mine, you’d be on my arm all night.” He smirks. “Is that right?” You smile at him. Before he can answer, you feel your phone vibrate with a text from Rowan that reads ‘where are you babe? Time to leave.’ 

“Well, the boyfriends calling, I gotta go.” You carefully climb out of the chair and grab your jacket and purse off of the back. As you start to walk away, the man speaks again. “Wait! What’s your name?” You turn back to face him. “Y/n.” He smiles and repeats it. “I’m Hugh.” His answer surprises you. “Oh! Congrats on the movie. I didn’t even recognize you at first with the beard and all.” He laughs. “Bye Hugh.” You wave before walking off.

—

It’s been a few months since that night in July, it being September now. You and Rowan had broken up mid-August, both of you agreeing that the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. It hurt for a little bit but you knew it was for the best. Living with him had been awkward as you searched for a new place, deciding that he can keep the current apartment. You wanted a fresh start, which is where you are now. Tonight was your first night in your new apartment. You didn’t have any furniture yet but you were happy. You bought an air mattress to make do until you could afford an actual bed. 

It was around midnight and you were doing your nightly youtube watch. You were scrolling through your recommended videos when you saw Hugh’s face pop up. It was an interview posted a few minutes ago from him on some late night show you’d never heard of. You clicked on it, wanting to hear what the man was up to these days. The interview was a standard one, mostly questions on his upcoming movie about some sheep. You weren’t really paying attention, close to dozing off when a question peaked your interest. 

“So Hugh, it’s almost been a year since the announcement of your divorce and the fans wanna know…How’s your dating life doing? Are you seeing anyone?” The woman asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Hugh lets out a big laugh. “I’m actually not seeing anyone. It’s funny you ask because the last time I even attempted to flirt with a woman she turned me down.” The interviewer's eyebrows shoot up in shock. She gasps before asking, “How could anyone turn you down? We need to know the full story here.” 

“Ryan and I were at this party for the marketing team that worked on Deadpool and Wolverine and I saw this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar all alone.” The interviewer is nodding her head, engaging with every word Hugh says. “I eyed her for a while to see if anyone was with her but she sat there alone for a good thirty minutes before Ryan hyped me up to go over there. When I finally did, I ordered a drink and tried to play it cool but I felt the urge to tell this girl how stunning she was, so I did.” You giggle to yourself and you hear him tell the story from his point of view. “She thanked me and I offered to buy her another drink. I kid you not, in the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard she says ‘you probably shouldn’t, i’m taken.’” His hands go up to his chest, gripping right above his heart. “My heart broke mate. I flirted a little more in true Hugh fashion but she had to go. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since.” 

“What a lucky woman, I’m sure she regrets it.” 

“Hey, I tried my best.” He shrugs before looking at the camera. “Y/n, if you ever break up with him. I’m all yours baby.” 

Your jaw drops, the sound of cheers blasting from your phone.  

‘we broke up. I’m all yours. @/RealHughJackman’ 

You hit send on the tweet and hoped it would be enough to bring him back to you.

thank you for reading <3

[dilfartist]

A foolish endeavor

Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader

Synopsis; You manage to snag Miguel’s gizmo and escape to another universe. How long will it take before he, or the spider society, find you?

Word count; 2.8k

Reader description; Female/GN

TW; kidnapping, probably terrible spanish (i did use sources Spanish-speaking users suggested), non-con touching, yandere themes, dark writing.

Notes; {if i mistranslated any of the spanish please do contact me in my DMs. I wanted this fic to be better but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Did not proofread.}

Midnight coated New York in a dark blue hue. Most nights the city lights illuminate the darkness, providing the ability to see. However, the motel you find yourself ambling to is the more isolated part of the city.

Rain poured down heavily, producing cacophonous echoes of raindrops slamming against the concrete. Clad in a drenched hoodie and damp black yoga pants, you scurry to the other side of the street just in time to avoid being hit by the passing truck.

Cigarette smoke and frigid rain overwhelm your senses, mainly due to the cigarette buds scattered on the motel parking lot.

The motel is okay looking. By no means does it look nice, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Guess this is where I’ll sleep tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You take a brief glance at your surroundings. Night overcame the sky, giving the atmosphere a dark hue but the lights gave you a clear standpoint.

Numerous lights hummed irritatingly, not even a minute passed and you found yourself obtaining a headache. You navigate the main office, which is on the left side of the horseshoe-shaped building, and a blue neon sign points in the direction of the office. You started sauntering over, putting pep in your step when the cold rain declined heavier than it did the last five minutes.

Six months ago, you wouldn’t be having this problem. At least that’s what you believed. You could’ve been at your apartment, catching up on a show you’ve failed to complete thanks to your busy work schedule.

Unfortunately for you, doing a task as simple as watching your television, in your home, was truly impossible. Why? Because the earth you roam isn’t yours, to begin with. Your apartment isn’t yours. The job you work isn’t yours. You aren’t certain you even exist in this universe.

You can’t find the strength to complain. Honestly, you’re delighted to be away from the man who stole you away from society.

Miguel O’Hara.

Otherwise known as Spiderman 2099. You know, the superhero.

It must be confusing to hear that a superhero kidnaped a poor civilian. Superheros don’t normally commit unforgivable acts. Regardless, Miguel didn't care. Miguel is aware he is different from other heroes given his beliefs. Abducting you was just one of the many wrongs Miguel fulfilled.

You just wished you knew his motives at the beginning. If you did, you wouldn't have to search for sanctuary. You wouldn't have to lie low in a different universe.

Before Miguel, you lived a decent life that included a decent job. It was a Tuesday afternoon with sunny weather and clear skies. Your friends invited you to a picnic at the park and, for once having a clear schedule you agreed. You recall the sun beaming down on you, overheating your body to the point shade was a necessity. You moved from the picnic blanket to a nearby bent tree. One moment you're enjoying the shade, the next you're falling. Then something transpired. You jerked in the air, something white clinging to the front of your shirt. You felt your body floating in the air, legs thrashing in fear when your body conceded it was in mid-air.

You must have fainted because you have no recollection of what transpired next. What you do remember was watching through bleary eyes as four strangers hovered over you clearly disputing. Currently, you know them by Jessica Drew, Peter B. Parker, the iron spider, And Miguel O’Hara.

The accountability for your well-being somehow landed in the hands of Miguel. In the beginning, Miguel had such a short patience for you, not that he didn't possess an attitude with anyone else, he just happened to have a really short fuse with you.

His explosive temper with you was undeserving. You hardly gave him any reason to blow up. Your presence alone just pissed him off, at least it appeared so.

You avoided him as much as possible; Departing a room when he entered. Ensuring any errands were accomplished before he arrived home, so you didn't have to leave your room to aggravate him.

Then he began to seek you out; popping up wherever you were in his apartment. Alone watching television on the couch? Not anymore. Miguel joined you on the other side silently watching as well. Sitting silently in the dining room eating lunch? Miguel enters with a bowl of cereal, starting a conversation about the day’s news. Enjoy video games and decide to play by yourself? Miguel grabs a controller and questions the rules and certain controls.

For someone who was as snappy at you as a feral dog, he sure did like to invade your solitude.

By the second month of staying at Miguel’s, he found solace in your presence. He became relaxed. Nice even. And then by the fourth month, you became friends. You never visualized being anything other than friends, but unbeknownst to you, Miguel did.

When you first caught the news of Peter figuring out what universe you belonged to, you were ecstatic. After all, the mystery of your universe's number had been the sole reason for crashing with Miguel and not immediately returning home.

You turned to Miguel, asking when was the appropriate time to drop you off. To your astonishment, Miguel’s brows furrowed, and his lips morphed into a grimace, “you will not be returning.” he affirmed.

Miguel shocked not only you, but everyone witnessing the scene. A gauche silence conquered the atmosphere.

You and Miguel stared at each other for a beat, then you voiced your perplexity. “What do you mean “I will not be returning?” Miguel, I need to go home.” you took a step closer to Miguel.

Miguel gazed at you with an uninterested stare. “What I say goes, (Name). And I say you're staying here.” he spun around, returning to whatever he had been working on before. “We all have a busy schedule and dropping you off will only alter it.”

“It’s not worth it,” he said like he was ending the conversation.

“Okay, then Peter can take me home when he needs to drop off Mayday.” you insisted, looking over at Peter to see if he’d be alright with your plan.

No expression was needed for you to catch on to the attitude Miguel began to gain. “(Name), I won’t tell you twice. The answer is no. Now, Peter take her back to my apartment. We’ll speak about the matter later, at the moment there are more important issues happening.”

You found it laughable. To think the minute you stepped into the man's sight he wanted you gone, but now Miguel was fighting you to stay with him. Ironic, isn’t it?

That night you and Miguel, the very moment he came inside his apartment, quarreled for an hour in a half. Your argument being you did not belong to him and could do whatever you pleased. Miguel’s argument was the insignificance of the matter to him.

You detected Miguel’s temper was starting to get out of hand. The way his fists began to clench, the way his brows creased, and the frown deepened after every sentence he uttered. You’ve seen his strength. His fierceness. And you’d rather leave than have any of his tantrums directed at you. Doing what any rational person would do, you attempted to leave the room. You advised him to de-stress before speaking to you again.

Miguel was having none of it. Not even a second passed before you were yanked back by the forearm.

You’re face-to-face with Miguel. Miguel towered over you, looking down at you with his signature red piercing stare. He bends down, momentarily staring at you until he finally speaks. “I can't allow you to leave.” The way he talks is low and if the room weren't already quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him. “I love you,” he confessed, voice cracking, closing his eyes as if it pained him to say it. He opened his eyes again. “And I won't allow myself to lose any other person I care for.”

Pulling twenty dollars out of the torn-up wallet you found on the side of the road, you slide it forward on the mahogany brown table. The fatigued receptionist glances at the money, then gazes at you with an irked expression.

“This isn’t enough.” She states matter-of-factly. She slides the twenty back to you.

You purse your lips, staring down at the cash. Twenty dollars is all you had. What were you to do now? The next nearest motel could be miles away; it was a miracle you made it to this.

Your eyes flicker back to her. You take two fingers pushing it back to her, giving her your best puppy eyes. “Please! I don't have anywhere else to go tonight. If I can’t stay here I’ll have to sleep on the streets.”

You were lying. You would’ve taken off by dawn, needing to be on the move after getting rested.

Her hardened expression softens. She takes a deep breath, eyes studying the money. Shaking her head, she takes the cash. “One night only, alright?”

You propose to her a smile, nodding with gratitude. She allotted you a key. A small golden-greenish key, with the number five engraved on the head. Tonight you’d sleep on the grounded floor of the motel.

The inside was decently prepared, having a dingy tone that gave off a haunted vibe. You hum in displeasure. Two queen-sized mattresses are positioned on the right side of the wall. They appeared stiff, and the blankets laying upon them looked thinner than a sheet of paper.

Sighing, you softly booted the door shut. Flopping down on the nearest bed, you groan at the sensation of the rough mattress.

When tomorrow comes you’d have to find a fresh location. Miguel could continually find your locale, thanks to not only Lyla but the whole Spider society. Perhaps you postponed his search this time. His watch or gizmo- whatever the hell it was- rests on your wrist.

Shifting your head to the side, pulling your hand out of your pocket, you glance at the gizmo.

Tightly clutched in Miguel’s hold, you stare quietly at the ceiling. You debate acting on your next actions. There were times Miguel slept lightly, aroused by creaks in the floorboard. Other times when the sound of glass shattering did not bother him even a little.

Glancing down at the arm wrapped securely around your midriff, you endeavor to gradually lift his arm up. He unconsciously retaliates, arms consolidating, resulting in a small gasp slipping from your lips. You’re quick to rub his arm, to offer him comfort, and to calm him.

It works. Miguel grumbles, his grasp faulting. You carefully move his arm aside, then unhurriedly get up from the bed.

Before leaving the room you observe Miguel. Miguel sleeps soundly, an angry expression inscribed on his face. But he is asleep, so you take your chance while you are able.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, you immediately spot the gizmo on the marble counter. Compared to the technology you have at home, it was top-notched, a huge improvement. Of course, he lived in the year 2099. Obviously, there would be a difference in technology.

You grabbed the gizmo, examining the complexity. From monitoring the spider people using them, you know it’ll take you wherever universe you request. Great. However, you weren’t a spider person. If you teleported in the middle of the air, you couldn't grapple on the closest object with a web. Or claw your way down a building

Fuck it.

If dying meant escaping him, then so be it.

You didn’t really mean that. Every time you went to teleport to a different universe, you cringed retreating your hand.

“Jesus! Alright, I'm doing this!” you softly berated yourself. Bracing for the impact of the possible fall you might face, you shut your eyes tight and twisted the gizmo. “Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground!” you cried.

How long would it take them to find you? How far could you get?

God, being on the run was stressful.

Your eyes flutter closed, plush pillows luling your tired mind. ‘I should get some sleep’ you thought. Warmth spread throughout your numbing body, as you finally permitted yourself to sleep.

When you awake gasping for air, almost as if you’d been suffocating. Instantly you arise, a hand rushing to your chest confirming it still thumped with a beating heart. Your skin is sticky with cold sweat, making your clothes uncomfortably cling to your body. “What the fuck?” you barely uttered, mouth arid.

Suddenly you had a gut feeling to check the window. You stand, groggily walking toward the large window adjacent to the front door. Pinching the hem of the curtain, you haul it aside.

The night is still pristine, the stars glowing in the dark sky. Nothing seems out of place. And yet you continue to have that gut feeling. Look outside, there’s something outside. Your eyes move to the parking lot.

You see it.

Blue and red. Something blue and red is making its way toward the motel. Squinting, you can make out what it is. Miguel. It's Miguel!

“Oh, shit!” you expressed, dropping the curtain. Wasting no time you locked the bottom and top locks. You veered around, frantically searching for a place to hide. You are no fool. Locking the door was simply a distraction; Miguel would tear the door off its hinges in a second.

Hiding underneath the bed is a childish strategy. That and hiding underneath the covers. Still, you drop to your knees, squeezing underneath the bed, using the blankets to cover any spaces revealing you. Pressing the palm of your hand against both your mouth and nose, you listen closely to everything around you.

At first, all you hear is the air conditioning blowing cool air, and the people next door’s baby weeping. Then you hear it. The doorknob oscillation. Your eyes widen, fear causing your breath to hitch. When the door refuses to open, the person behind the door commences kicking in the door. One kick achieves them access to the room. The door slams against the wall, shaking the ground, sending a vibration under you.

“¿Qué carajo?” you know that voice anywhere. It’s Miguel speaking in his native language. A habit Miguel has when he’s angered or stressed. “¿Dónde está ella?” Miguel snaps, striding into the room with anger-powered steps.

You can see through the tiny slit in the blankets, Miguel turning to the table where you placed the gizmo. Miguel picks up the gizmo, putting it back on his wrist.

He shifts his concentration to finding you. He calls out your name, malice dripping from the way he shouts it. He disappears from sight, presumingly moving on to the bathroom. Many things are heard being tossed around. Miguel probably was looking for evidence of you staying here, apart from the gizmo.

You gather the courage to, oh, so carefully stretch your leg out, then proceed to quietly shuffle from under the bed. You waste no time, rushing out the door, feet bare without socks or shoes. The gravel burns the soles of your feet, scraping and imprinting on the skin.

You practically succeeded in leaving the lot until you caught a glimpse of what stalked behind you. On all fours, Miguel sprinted at you, claws scuffing the concrete, like a predator running after its prey.

“Holy shit! What the actual fuck!” you panic aloud, taking your eye off what was in front of you, your mind solely focusing on the man hunting you. Big mistake on your part. A concrete parking block is in your way, but you don’t see it. You jolt forward, tripping over the block, your other foot catching you before you hit the road.

Just when you thought you still had the chance of running away, you’re sorely mistaken. Miguel pounces on you, and the clash of your bodies colliding results in Miguel tumbling down the road, you secure in his arms.

The tumble ends; you’re struggling not to vomit, head resting on Miguel’s firm chest. The world spins. It’s easy to forget your position when the urge to throw up is fresh.

Miguel holds your head, pressing a myriad of kisses on every part of the skin visible, muttering with his eyes closed. “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.” He sounds so frantic, reciting those same words, his tongue stumbling over the utterances.

His eyelids raise, uncovering his red orbs. He presses his forehead against yours, staring deeply into your eyes. It’s a domestic stunt that makes your stomach churn. “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.” he huffs, then continues, “I’m happy you’re alright. I don’t know what I'd do if I lost you, mi alma.”

Taking your hand, he places a soft kiss on the back. “Had an anomaly harmed you, I would have ripped their fucking throat out!”

————————

Translations

- “¿Qué carajo?”/ what the fuck?

- “¿Dónde está ella?”/ where is she?

- “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.”/ I should be furious with you, but I'm not.

- “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.”/ thank god you’re okay.

- mi alma/ my soul

[janovavalen]

his beauty .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗ aegon ii targaryen x fem!targaryen reader

summary: the houses grace has fallen victim to her uncle; the one who’s shunned and discriminated along the house, only for her to feel the same, leaving them to fix and ruin each other.

warnings: cursing, drinking (drunk aegon obvi), casual targaryen incest, hidden love, slight angst and very slight smut (not even smut fr)

words; 6.8k

based on this request

at the mid of day, the two houses; green and black, decided it was high time for them to all get together and celebrate the marriage of dameon and rhaenyra. her father; viserys, wanted him to be home with her either way without simply asking her to be with them all.

her family; y/n daughter of rhaenyra and daemon, jacaerys, and lucerys had all come together in unison. standing in the throne room next to his slightly shorter brother and his younger sister who paid absolutely no mind the what was going on around her.

his mother and father standing beside one another with his mothers hands in front of her and his father looking joyfully around and waiting.

‘oh Gods, how much longer shall this go on? my legs are tired and i am hungry’ aegon groaned while his mother shot a sharp look at him and aemond rolling his eyes and looking down and over at helaena who look only briefly then back at her own world.

‘shouldn’t be much longer, aegon. they aren’t that far from us anyway’ his father mumbled, not really wanting to reply but not wanting to leave a open space with his sons rudeness to fill the room.

aegon only agreed to coming mainly because his niece: y/n, would be accompanying the family. he and y/n were the only two in the family who got along without a fuss. he found it harder to grow fond of his nephews; her brothers.

nothing wrong with them apart from the obvious factor that they were basterds along the family, their dark hair and eyes that didn’t match anyone’s. y/n however took apart from her mother and grandmother; his fathers late wife.

her hair long and white, eyes light blue. her nose sharp, and face defined. even as a babe they were unable to tell who’d she’d came out of; rhaenyra her mother or her grandmother who’d already passed years before.

just as aegon started to wonder how she’d look, not at the age of fifteen , himself nineteen, the doors opened to show the family wearing black; dressed formally.

aegon couldn’t help but looks around only to see who’d he been looking for, y/n walking hand in hand with her mother who’d also held hands with her younger son lucaerys.

he almost felt his heart racing at the sight of her a bit taller, almost shoulder to shoulder with her mother but not quit. she was visibly taller than her younger brother. daemon walking not too far behind, right behind y/n actually.

‘my daughter has arrived!’ his father yelled happily, he began to struggle but still made his way over to meet rhaenyra half way who smiled warmly and hugged her father—‘and my granddaughter y/n’ he sighed, looking down at her while holding his hands over her slightly chubby cheeks, she still had yet to fill her face, but she still showed signs of maturity.

‘hello grandfather’ she spoke, her voice soft and almost fragile. from what he was told; she was anything but, she put a face for the audience and showed herself only for her family, she was labeled among the family but admired and favored among the people.

a beauty, a treasure, a true princess, she would be called throughout the streets, house and sometimes the maids. aegon never paid close attention to when they would whisper and gossip about himself but he always paid attention to every detail about her.

he noticed how her hair was curly and perfectly laid out behind her back, some strands of hair breaking free and tossed over her head.

‘what a beautiful face she has’ he heard a maid gasp while the other next to her agreed immediately with a nod and an adoring smile. aegon of course agreed.

‘well let’s not hold any more time, come! i have a day planned for you all, and something special for you, y/n.’ he let her grab his hand as the two walked off, alicent looking at her kids as a way of saying let’s go, which they were quick to follow, aemond walking next to aegon and helaena a bit off but next to her mother who’d slowed down her walking speed to match hers.

aegon watched as y/n and his father talked, she’d laugh loudly and lean into him as he smiled warmly along with rhaenyra who’d watched her the whole time, she’d occasionally look back to her other sons who walked a bit ahead of aegon and aemond.

‘they’re growing fine’ rhaenyra commented, talking about her younger brothers.

‘ah, yes. the tow doing well, aemond is a very well swordsman, taking after his father’ he jokes leaving rhaenyra to smile—‘helaena, bless her heart, very good at knitting however, makes fine pieces.’ he told as rhaenyra turned to look at the bunch along with y/n, aegon couldn’t help but make eye contact with her as she smiled at him, he free hand lifting to wave at him.

he didn’t know why or what possessed him to do so, but he gave a hidden wave back, rhaenyra unnoticed, but y/n grew warm at him doing so and turned her head immediately.

he felt himself smile and cleared his throat to fix his stature.

he noticed when his father got to talking about him however, was when it was whispers and mumbled, rhaenyra nodding and not paying any mind but his mother turned to him in distaste. he wanted so badly to throw himself from the open window next to the bunch or even drown himself in wine, he hopped he’d get to at least pleasure himself in that.

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sitting in the upper parts of a stone balcony, they all observed and watched the dewling going on below, crowds cheering and clapping for the people in battle with each other, and the family above sitting and watching.

aegon gotten lucky and had a cup filled to the brim with wine, he sipped it every now and again, on a regular—he’d rather down the whole cup and get more, but something in him made him want to hold some sort of decency in front of y/n who sat right next to him. her hands held one another as she almost looked like a statue in a garden.

she looked starlight forward and watched the dewl, her eyes following the people as they crossed and hit each other. did she like the fighting? did she like chaos? did she like the noise and angry men as they threw cups of wine and whatever they had in their hands out of anger when someone, they bet on lost.

he wondered to himself. his eyes moving up and down her body while he watched. the real show seemed to be next to him.

‘are you having fun?’ he heard. looking up to see y/n looking over at him with full eyes of wonder, he cleared his throat and set the cup down next to him, not without gulping some down of course .

‘yes of course, are you not?’ he asked her back, she smiled and shook her head slightly. he was a bit shocked of her giving him honestly but he was happy she didn’t feel the need to lie.

‘i’d much rather be in it, i wonder how it is, how it feels. have you dewled before?’ he was shocked, she’d want to fight with a man? and most likely her life on the line?

‘i have not, why would you want to be in it? i heard women often don’t like things like this?’ he wondered, looking at her as she hummed.

‘hm, i don’t know. it looks fun, right?’ she asked while looking at him once more then back at the fight below. he hummed back to agree but knew he’d agree with anything she said.

‘i could help you have more fun, would you want that?’ he leaned into her so he was closer, smelling the bath soap and perfumes she had still tangled in her hair and skin. she turned to him immediately, their noses almost touching each other as she looked into his eyes.

smiling she went to speak back into his ear—‘how about you leave first and i’ll follow’ she mumbled, making sure her mother and father didn’t hear. he smiled daringly and cleared his throat.

her voice ringing through his head and bouncing off the walls of his mind, a slight chill and tingly running through his body.

‘father; i wish to go to the library, i have things to attend’ he asked but somewhat stated. his father and rhaenyra looked at him as she looked at their father, he nodded with a dismissive hand and his mother scoffed—‘what things? you have nothing to do—‘

‘let him go, alicent. if the boy doesn’t wish to stay then he shouldn’t’ he mumbled to his mother who looked at him one last time before turning back to the entertainment. he felt risky and let his hand entangle itself with some of y/n’s hair before he walked past her.

she smiled and cleared her throat waiting for a bit before asking—‘may i find something to eat? i haven’t eaten since we left—‘

‘oh, my dear, i can have something brought to you—layla!—‘

‘no no, grandfather, i can find something it’s alright, mother?’ rhaenyra looked at her daughter a bit worried to let her leave but mumbled—‘very well, be back soon, don’t eat too much, dinner will be ready’ y/n smiled and kissed her mothers cheek along with her fathers who smiled, going over to her grandfather and giving him a kiss as well and as for alicent a bow.

the bunch watched as she left and sighed—‘she is your mothers image, and your daughter.’ viserys mumbled to rhaenyra who smiled and nodded in agreement.

‘yes, i’ve been told by many that she might even be my sister rather than my daughter’ she smiled while her father laughed—‘i can see the confusion, and her hair—‘

‘i know, it’s beautiful’ rhaenyra said. they were both gushing about how perfect she was and how much she will and is loved amongst the world, the beauty and grace lifted many.

alicent however, grumbled every time she heard her husband gush over a daughter that isn’t his, she wondered why he couldn’t say things like that for his own daughter or better yet his sons.

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as aegon walked and looked behind him every now and again, he opened the great doors to the library, a table set in the middle of the stone flooring room and books filling the walls. aegon never liked reading, he found it time consuming and a waste of his precious time when he would rather be out and about living how he wanted instead of being forced to please the court and his parents.

the soft sounds of his shoes echoing through the room. where was she? did she set him up to look like an idiot? why was he so quick to go with her word and fail to think of his own actions?

just as he started to doubt her was when he’d heard the door open, turning quickly to see y/n. her hand on the door and the other by her side.

‘sorry for the wait; i had to stop by the kitchen, make the lie believable,’ she joked while looking around in awe.

‘so this is your library’ she gasped, he smiled at her wide eyes—‘yes, not much to gape over’ she shook her head and made sure the door fully shut behind him—‘what were you thinking of fun always? it’s hard to entertain me, i must warn you. the wet nurses say i didn’t smile until the age of five.’ she told him with a warm smile of her own.

he believed what she had to say without a second thought, imagining her as a babe, straight face and eyes wide.

‘i could only imagine, i heard i didn’t stop crying and begging for attention’ walking over to her as she opened a few books and put them back on the shelves.

‘i believe it’ he snorted as he gasped, his jaw dropped while she laughed, leaning into his chest and inhaling deeply for the air she’d lost while laughing—‘i jest!’ she prompted, walking to the other side only for him to follow.

‘what is your fascination with books anyway? most your age take favor in dresses and hair i hear?’ besides his sister who took favor in bugs and her time alone.

‘mm, i enjoy that too, what makes you think otherwise?’ she wonders, the book in the hand now on the table.

‘just a little ago you mentioned how you liked the fighting, most don’t take favor in that.’ aegon commented and recollected. y/n shrugged and smiled.

‘i enjoy things that catch my attention. most of my favors come from my father, he taught me things. things some girls my age wouldn’t enjoy…how could i not?’ she looked at him as if she were questioning him.

he shook his head a bit, lost in her lips…plump and red. she smiled and looked down at the floor before speaking—‘i have an idea of fun, since you don’t.’ she joked as he turned an eyebrow out of curiosity and followed as she led him out of the room.

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being led down to the outside of the house, his hand in hers that gotten entangled with hers back in the halls, apparently he was walking too slow and she wanted him to catch up so she took his hand in her own.

her skin was soft and warm to the touch, the warmth complimented his cold ones.

seeing the dragons as they stretched their necks and roared he stumbled back a bit—‘wait, we aren’t possibly riding them are we?’ he mumbled as she looked at him her eyes wide—‘of course we are! or is that too much for a fair prince as yourself?’ she walked almost chest to chest with him as he scoffed.

of course it was! at the moment anyway, he didn’t have a problem with them only that he’d never ridden one for himself, he had one himself but he barely knew it nore did anything with it, he didn’t have the time or interest either.

‘of course not, why would it be? dragon back riding is popular throughout the family anyway’ he said as she pulled him to her dragon. it looks deadly, big for its age, he wondered how much bigger it would get.

it’s scales white and spikes sharp, it almost matched herself.

‘this is smaug, he is sweet, don’t worry about him too much it would hurt your pretty head’ she jokes once again—‘i should say that to you’ he mumbled.

she smiled before barking a loud laugh, her dragon shaking its head as it prepared itself for her to mount him—‘come along prince aegon!’ she yelled, looking at the dragon as it squinted its eyes at him.

‘i don’t think smaug likes me very much princess!’ he yelled back as she stroked the dragon's neck—‘don’t be shy, he doesn’t bite unless told!’ she yelled back.

the height of the two now great, causing them not to hear each other if they spoke regularly.

aegon silently gulped before walking to the side of her dragon, it was still before it suddenly jumped at him with a snap of its jaw making him yelp, she laughed heartily as her dragon seemed to do the same.

‘he jests! come on now!’ he couldn’t believe he’d just done that.

finally getting to the back of y/n who smiled, her hair not tied back so it would be out of her hair—‘are you ready my prince?’ she asked with a hint of something he couldn’t recognize in her voice—‘only if you my princess’ grinning to her while his eyes trained to her lips and to her eyes, she grinned and turned around.

‘sōvēs!’ she shouted and just on command her dragon lifted, its wings flapping loudly and slowly around the two, his hand gripped each side of her waist as she paid no mind, his chest close to her back.

‘let’s not go far yes? we have to attend dinner soon!’ she yelled while he nodded, the two high in the air and his house looking like nothing but a small smudge surrounded by water, the foggy clouds all around consuming his sight.

the didn’t fail to notice the way she’d let go of the holsters that she was once holding—‘shouldn’t you be holding them?’ he wondered, his voice a bit quiet since he’d placed his head next to hers, close to her ear.

‘no, not now anyway, we’re mearley gliding along the sky, do you take hold of yours?’ she asked; turning her head a bit so that their eyes matched one another and her nose almost touching his, he was beyond tempted to close the space between them. her lips almost close to his but…he couldn’t.

‘no i don’t! why would you think that?’ he mumbled, he didn’t cent ride his dragon.

‘you wouldn’t know then’ she teased, turning back around as the two focused on the picture in front of them, his eyes making their way to her every now and again

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as the two did their finish with dragon back riding, y/n kai fed gracefully and cleaned her clothes, patting them down and turning around to do the same for aegon who let her touch him, his chest and face and hair, making his hair calm from its once wild state from the wind.

‘let’s hurry, we mustn’t be late, anything will make my mother worry’ she spoke while turning and walking quickly, her hands fixing her hair and face.

‘yes, let us hurry then.’ he mumbled. wishing they had more time to spend with just each other. he loved her company and wished to have more of it.

the two of them making way inside and closing the door, she breathed heavily and soon calmly, her once rushed state appearing as though she was calm the whole time. her hair in the back however—‘wait’ he rushed.

reaching for her hand and causing her to turn around as she looked between his eyes—‘what?’she mumbled.

turning her around so that he could comb his fingers through her hair and tame it, she smiled to herself before he mumbled—‘okay’.

turning she looked between his eyes once more, her hand finding way to his own hair to fix it once more, their close proximity intoxicated his sense. he could practically taste her on his tongue.

she leaned in a bit closer causing his heart to speed up, he could have sworn he’d die right here in from of her. she let her lips slowly part and lean in, him meeting her half way. inhaling sharply as he kissing her with urgency.

her hands hand the side of his neck as he heard her hum. pulling apart and making sure not to get carried away, she shuddered a breath before smiling—‘i’ll go first, you follow soon.’ she instructed. he nodded in a daze, still lost at the thought of his lips on hers.

her half slipping from him and walking away. her appearance causing his father and her mother to sigh with relief.

‘darling girl, where have you been? we’ve looked all over’ she rushed, her hands on the side of her daughters face who shrugged and held her hands over her moms.

‘i was in the chambers, i ate too much and had to sleep’ she shrugged while her mother hummed and smiled, leaning in and kiss her cheek only to get a faint scent—‘oh dragon back?’ she mumbled leaving her daughter to only look to the side and smile.

rhaenyra turned to her father who smiled and grabbed ahold of y/n’s arm—‘come, you shall sit here’ he instructed, she did as told and occasionally looked to where aegon was only for him to make his appearance—‘aegon!’ his mother yelled.

walking over to him, her hand made its way to his bicep, gripping it—‘what have you been doing? drinking i hope not—‘ she harshly asked.

‘no, i was in the library—‘

‘they checked and you weren’t, you reek of dragon, where were you?’ she asked lowkey once more, he looked up and looked back and over to y/n who bit her bottom lip—‘alone…i was alone mother.’ he mumbled. she grumbled before letting go of him.

‘go sit.’ she instructed leaving him to do as told. he sat across from y/n who smiled at him with pity.

he wished she didn’t hear what she said, or he’d be entirely embarrassed.

‘now that we were back together; let’s eat.’ viserys told them all with a smile as daemon sat next to rhaenyra, y/n in the middle of her brothers. aegon; next to his mother,his siblings next to him in order.

he sneakily grabbed a cup of wine and drank some of it as y/n supper her juice.

they talked amongst themselves, only for aegon to grow confident. his leg lifted and licked y/n’s who looked up immediately and jumped a bit but grinned—she did the same as he laughed.

the town of them laughing and growing a bit of attention from her brothers—‘what are you doing?’ jacaerys mumbled, looking at her as she cleared her throat.

‘nothing brother’ she mumbled. aemond however seemed to know but chose not to comment, he’d rather not start any unwanted and unnecessary attention.

the dinner went on longer than usual, but it was worth his time when y/n would look at him and smile.

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later in his chambers, he sat in his bed with his new bed clothes on, his hair slightly damp from the bath he took a bit ago.

laying in bed to remember what happened earlier and who was there with him, he felt his body grow warm, shifting over to one side of him and the other he was restless.

the memory of her lips on his, the slight pudge to her waist that was squeezed between his fingers and through her dress. his chest became hollow as it grew and shrunk. his heart racing.

he let his hand gradually lift from where it was and slowly making its way down his chest, teasing himself to move further down, and down.

finely where he needed it—his hand slipped through the pants and only his warmth. it in pain, and throbbing.

making a small noise as he strayed to work itself—the thought of y/n on his mind, her eyes, full and wonder and life. her cheeks, plush and chubby, her lips, plump and warm. her taste, sweet and savory. his mouth opened in pleasure as he felt himself getting closer only to hear a knock.

jumping up and whipping his hand on his sheets, upset with the release he begged for now gone—‘yes? how is it?’ he grumbled—‘y/n’ the voice spoke. his eyes wide, he got up and ran over to the door.

opening it in a hurry to see y/n in her nightgown, with her hair done and curly, set back behind her shoulders—‘what are you doing here—come in, hurry’ he ushered her, grabbing her with the opposite hand he’d previously used.

‘i couldn’t sleep, and i wondered if you’d want to talk more? i enjoy your presence and…if not that okay—‘

‘no ko, stay, please. i’m okay with it. i enjoy yours as well’ he muttered. trying to keep it quiet. she smiled sweetly while looking up at him through her thick lashes. she looks beautiful. the look of ready for bed making him feel something, the pain making its way down to his core—but ignoring it as much as he could, he couldn’t do that with her. not now, possibly never. he’d ruin her and the future she had…the future without him.

his heart stinging him with the thought of her being with another and not him.

‘what is it you wish is talk about princess?’ he muttered as he watched her walk over to a chair next to the fire that was cracking in the open space.

‘anything, about you.’ she muttered. he felt his breath hitch as she turned to him, her open shoulder glistening in the warm light next to her—‘what about me?’

he muttered as she shrugged, sitting down and ushering him over with a finger. he followed immediately, sitting in the chair across from her.

‘anything, what is it you enjoy, dislike?’ she asked. her leg crossing one another. he couldn’t believe who he was talking to especially for her age, pure fifteen, and speaking as though she was as old as her mother.

‘i enjoy everything, drinking, sleeping—‘

‘sex?’ she muttered, he looked up immediately and felt his ears ringing, the growing foggy and core warm.

she smiled and laughed a bit—‘the maids, have been warning me of you, saying your unpure and could ruin anything you touch…i beg to differ’ she revealed.

he cleared his throat at knowing his maids have caught him in the act more than once, especially with another, he tried to hide it but they always saw and found out. knowing he couldn’t change what they said he rolled his eyes and focused on the fire, embarrassed.

‘believe what you want…i’m not perfect. not like i’m supposed to be.’ he muttered. she felt her smile drop while looking at him and she felt a sort of ping in her heart.

‘how do you feel about that?’ she wondered. aegon turned to look at her as she sat across from him, not too far. he shrugged and slapped a fake smile on his face—‘i don’t care…can’t do anything about it anyway.’

she rolled her eyes and got up, moving over to him so that her stomach met his face, he turned and looked up at her through his eyelashes—‘you don’t have to feel anything about what they say. what matters is what you think of you, aegon.’ she told. her voice was low, and stern.

he wondered if she heard something about herself, he felt his chin quiver as she let him lean his head against her stomach, he hand combing through his hair—‘it’s okay.’ she whispered.

this is all he wanted, from his mother. reassurance, and love, and affection. his arms making way up to her back and holding her body close to his face as he breathed in her scent. she let him pull apart to look up at her as she blinking slowly.

the urge running over her as she leaned down and took his lips in hers in a hurry causing him to follow, the urgency in which making it sloppy but the kiss addictive. slightly moaning in her mouth as she swallowed his sounds, he and her shared the harsh kiss of desperation.

the kiss hitting her core harder making her make a noise in his mouth, his eyebrows frowning, standing up with his body pressed against hers, he held the back of her head as his other hand held the side of her face.

she let her hand expire his chest and toned stomach causing him to pull apart—‘no, stop…’ he whispered, she frowned and kissing him once more leaving him to do the same with addiction, forcing himself to pull apart—‘y/n—‘

‘why not?’

‘we cannot, your pure, young, untuned…i cannot ruin you—‘

‘i am not young, you cannot, you won’t, please aegon—‘ he struggled to stay away, his hands gravitated to her as if she were the only thing in distance, to him he was, he felt how her body pressed against his, her growing breasts fleshed against his chest, groaning he missing her harder until he shook his head.

he couldn’t do this to her, he wouldn’t, he himself the beast, out to kill, ruin and consume all things beautiful and pure. stopping her by placing his hands on both sides of his face, she whined a bit and half his hands—‘aegon…’

‘leave now, before i make a terrible mistake.’

‘you won’t, in asking you—i need you—‘

‘no, y/n. leave now…please, please, leave now.’ he begged. she looked at him without anger but hesitated to leave, biting her swelling lips as he watched her leave silently. his heart racing, and aching.

he knew he’d done the right thing. and he hated himself for it.

that following day, they were set to leave back home; aegon however, didn’t show up for goodbyes. y/n, hunted by this, and the memory of the night before.

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years later, in the bed of his room aegon now taller and a bit more fit, his hair short to his shoulders. his body bare from the night before with a random who’d left that same night.

groaning as he turned around and slept peacefully, his mother barging into his room with her gown and presence done—‘aegon…aegon!’ she yelled, he groaned and turned with a fuss—‘what is it?’ he muttered.

she scoffed and spoke—‘we have guest, you are to be ready. now.’ she sternly told him. groaning again while he sat up, she watched as he held his white sheet in front of his naked body, cringing.

‘okay, who is it?’ he asked about the people who’d be showing up so he knew if he needed to be sober or not—‘rhaenyra and her family, hurry, your father said they should be here soon.’ she muttered, making her way out only for him to hear the key words rhaenyra and her family, meaning rhaenyra and her daughter, shooting up to call the maids to get him ready.

was she really going to be there? y/n, seeing her for the first time in years. how would she think of him now? remembering the night he made her leave his chambers. sad and alone. and not saying goodbye to her.

he felt his heart racing with worry. the maids getting him ready by combing out his tangled hair.

making his way down to the main room where his brother, now taller than him and a eyepatch on his face, his hair sleek and long beside his wife, helaena who touched and played with her fingers. people; guards and maids, arranged in their spots, his grandfather and mother standing side by side.

‘i figured you’d want to be here…’ his brother muttered while aegon rolled his eyes at his brother—‘and of course you are, always aiming to please’ he rolled his eyes while aemond ignored him, his straight back turned to the doors.

the doors soon, opening quickly as the people spoke to announce their arrival, rhaenyra and daemon standing next to each other as their children followed—y/n, behind her mother.

and Gods, did she look magnificent. her hair straight and long, braided and some out. her clothes black and matching her mothers, her brothers with their dark brown hair and red mixed with black outsides.

daemon wore black as well with his hair out, on the sides of his head. aegon couldn’t help but let his gaze set focus on y/n who paid him no mind, his heart rate picking up and hurting him almost, he almost forgot what it felt to see it. to even be in the same room as her.

‘alicent, where is my father?’ rhaenyra muttered while she got closer to him, the very visible stench in front of her, filled with child.

‘he is in his chambers, he’d been finding it more difficult to rise, i urge you to let him rest.’ she told them, her authority falling through her voice.

aegon blocked out half of what was being said, his focus on y/n who turned to look him up and down before she faced forward once more. his heart dropped. did what they share years ago mean nothing, did the whole feelings be one sided?

he felt embarrassed, like an idiot, ignored by the one person he couldn’t stand it from. his hands clutched around one another while he felt his face grow red.

he watched as they walked away and past them, y/n keeping her face forward and not meeting his eyes of which he desperately wanted them too.

‘looks as though your disappointment is prominent, who were you expecting? a whore?’ his brother muttered before walking away with his wife and mother. aegon bit his lip and cleared his throat before walking away with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🗡️　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

his mind had been filled with the way y/n had grown physically; and apparently mentally about the way she ignored his very being. did the decision he made years ago affect how she feels for him today?

his heart was aching and he needed to talk to her, he needed to hear her, feel her, taste her.

sitting at the dinner table as they all ate and laughed, he felt his eyes training against y/n whose lips were unmoving, only to open and close when she ate. she seemed to lose the smile she wore years ago.

her eyes lidded a bit as if the life it was filled with had died. she drank slowly and cleared her throat—‘i will go to my chambers mother.’ he muttered as rhaenyra nodded and kissed her cheek, y/n doing the same. as she dusted off her outside had stood to leave.

be said some bullshit lie to his mother about how he’d felt ill and left without hearing her protest. going down the hall to see it was empty and turning to the other to see y/n walking into her chambers he walked quick, looking behind him to make sure nobody saw—knocking on the door—‘y/n?’ he muttered, his head a bit fuzzy with the wine he’d drank but not enough to stop him from thinning completely.

‘who is it?’ she asked through the door—‘aegon…’ he mumbled. the door opened in a hurry as she looked at him.

he felt stupid, helpless and embarrassed. standing in front of her door as if he were a beggar asking for food. in a sense he was a beggar, begging for her attention.

‘what is it—‘

‘please, let me talk to you…please.’ he muttered as she looked down and peeked her head out to then pull him in and shirt the door quietly.

looking around at the room she’d had he tried not to think of the fact this was his old room, where’d they’d kissed.

‘speak…’ she muttered , her distance far from him as he awkwardly touching his hands and picked at his skin.

‘i…you, look beautiful.’ he told her dumbly, a small smile set on his lips. she couldn’t help but feel her heart skip and race a bit while her eyebrows lifted.

‘thank you. you; betterment.’ she told him, giving him a small smile to himself. he felt his heart skip at this but knew it didn’t match the one tara ago.

‘i want to, apologize —‘

‘don’t, i don't need it—‘

‘but i need to, i want to. please…’ he begged her to hear him, she looked him up and down at his new form and folded her arms—‘okay…’ she muttered.

looking at the chairs next to the fire, he pointed—‘please, let’s sit?’ he asked her she sighed and followed him, sitting in the chair she sat in years ago, her legs crossed over one another as he sat in the one across.

‘i just, i’m so sorry. those years ago. then i forced you to leave, believe me i wanted the same, i craved your touch, your heart…but i couldn’t, i couldn’t ruin you. for your future, your legacy—‘

‘but you wouldn’t have…aegon. i came to you, i asked you, i neeed you. and when you pushed me away…i didn’t know how to feel, i didn’t know if it were one sided or not—‘

‘it was not, it is not!’ he corrected, feeling so far from her, he got up and kneeled in front of her, she looked down at him with sorrow as she felt bad for his current state, his eyes glazed over with tears and desperate for her to understand.

‘aegon—‘

‘no, y/n i have never felt this way, i will never fill this way unless with you…you, are the one thing i can feel around, you…are everything. years back—i knew i wanted you but i couldn’t have you. you are pure, and perfect. carved for the world to admire and witness, the life you need, and the life you deserve. apart from me who will ruin and destroy you, i cannot give you what you need—‘

‘all i wanted was your love…you, aegon, are all i need, all i want—‘ before she could get anything else out he leaned up and pressed his lips along hers, his kiss desperate and hungry, hers following in sync.

the tow of them kissed each other harder and harder, the years of longing for each other hurtling towards the kiss and the love they shared for each other shared.

her hand held his that rested on the sides of her now shaped and defined face, he moved his hands pulled her up but her waist, walking her over to the bed. sitting on it as she climbed onto his lap, the two of them kissing each other and y/n moving her waist along his, causing him to groan.

the more they kissed the more they craved, and she knew she had to wait—pulling apart to rest her head against his, their noses touching, he smiled warmly as she did the same.

she pressed her hands on his chest and pushed him back a bit, slowly laying down on his back as she laid on his front body, her arms crossed and folded along his chest.

the two studied their new bodies as they admired one another’s face—‘i am to marry.’ she muttered in a bit or sadness.

he felt his heart ping—‘to whom?’ he asked. gods, he hated this feeling; the feeling of helplessness. she would marry someone who wasn’t him—now of age, he wished he’d be able to be some sort of interest to her mother.

‘i don’t know. mother and father have been looking, for the perfect man…’ she looked between his eyes with longing. he looked at her as well before she pushed herself up and pressed her lips along his once more.

humming into her mouth as he thought of something he pulled apart—‘marry me…’ he muttered. she opened her eyes and looked at him with wide eyes—‘us?’

‘why not? i am to marry soon, you are now, us marrying one another will bring out houses together, us, growing together, to have babes—heirs to the throne, you queen, me—‘

‘my king’ she smiled as her lips hovered over his, kissing him once more with amazement at the new thought of him as her husband.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🗡️　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

the next day, aegon told y/n she’d talk to her mother. she said it would be preferable over her father, if he talked to him, he’d die.

knocking on her chambers she spoke—‘come in’. walking in to see rhaenyra, his older sister standing at the table, her hand on her stomach—‘oh, aegon.’ she stood straighter, a part of her expecting her daughter.

‘yes, i’ve come to speak with you, on important matters.’ he was beyond scared right now. she was a bit worried, siting down at the chair near the table as he followed.

‘yes what is it?’ looking at him in the eyes, he found it intriguing that her and y/n shared the same stern expression and voice.

‘i am to marry soon…’ he muttered

‘so is y/n—‘

‘wed her to me…please.’ he asked, begging. he could tell she was scared—‘what?’ she asked.

‘wed her to me, and i will give her everything she needs, everything she deserves and desires, i will give you heirs to the throne and i will stay out of your way…just. please, i love her.’ he begged and explained. rhaenyra, fiddled with her fingers at the thought but tried to think and push aside what she’d heard about him.

humming she looked at the floor then up—‘okay…’ she muttered he thought he heard her wrong.

‘i’m sorry?—‘

‘you shall marry her, and you will do nothing to hurt her. if i hear or see anything, i will have you killed and eaten by the dragons—‘

‘i understand, i understand. thank you—thank you sister—rhaenyra.’ be corrected as she threatened him but sat straight.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🗡️　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

walking to the chambers y/n stayed in her immediately went into her arms and kissed her deeply—‘did she say yes? huh?’ she asked urgently, he nodded as she smiled widely, kissing him deeply once more.

the two stayed tangled in one another.

their wedding not to long after the betrothal, and they were successful in having four children, three boys and one girl.

[cyn-if]

CORRUPTANT

Chained up, locked away. Tortured and forgotten. At least that is how it has been for as long as you remember. Suddenly you are freed. Your mind is shredded, all memories lost to the overwhelming agony that you endured. The very people that imprisoned you demand for you to assist in preventing a looming threat, one that has the entire world at stake. Just who are you? Why were you imprisoned? What about those you knew? Remember it all and cope with the tattered remains of your psyche. Maybe even save the world. Or not, what has the world ever given you?

Corruptant is a 172,000 (so far) word dark fantasy interactive fiction game (book?) that sees you play a cursed amnesiac coping with the situation they find themselves in.

-Play as Male, Female or Non-Binary. -Deal with the lingering effects of your imprisonment. -Give into 6 different extremes. -Romance one (or more!) of 5 (6?) characters that find themselves on your team. -Save the world and earn your freedom. -Or maybe burn it all down as revenge.

Romance Options:

The Binder: [M/F]

They are the first person you really interact with upon being freed. Gentle, timid and soft spoken, at least around you, they are going to be a constant in your life for now. Finding themselves bound to you, they try to do everything in their power to make sure you are comfortable. Can you forgive them for working for your captors? Can you get over the power imbalance that lies between you two? Male: 5’9 with short styled brown hair. He has warm brown eyes and is clean shaven. Female: 5’6 with medium length brown hair, often worn in a ponytail. She has gentle, inviting brown eyes.

The Second Born. [M/F] The second born child of the reigning monarch, they find themself placed on the team that you are on. They seem to take things easy, flaunting rules and wearing a lazy smile. They seem to treat you like a friend (or more), easily chatting and joking with you despite your curse. Can anything come from these interactions? Male: 5’11 with messy chin length blonde hair. His face is framed on the left side by strands of his hair being a dark blue. His bold violet eyes and stylish beard add to the look. Female: 5’7 with spiky short blonde hair and smoky violet eyes. Her bangs are highlighted by strands of dark blue.

The Best Friend. [M/F] Your best friend from childhood. You remember them as a person filled with wonder and optimism, genuinely caring about you and always lifting you up. Are they still the same person from your fragmented memories? You recall HE had short ginger hair and bright green eyes. You recall SHE had short ginger hair and bright green eyes.

The Scholar [F] An obsessive and eccentric scholar that specializes in your curse among other things. She has been assigned to your team and seems to be captivated by you. Can you get over the scholarly eye she has for you? And what about her not even being human? She has glimmering silver eyes and medium length hair matching her eyes. She is 5’5.

The Cultist [M] A captured member of a cult that is attempting to bring about the end of the world. He seems to fanatically revere you as some sort of savior. He is placed on the team to lead you to your targets. Will the fact you two are both outsiders draw you two together? He has short black hair and a beard, his blue eyes are etched with tiny black runes around the iris.

Note on Game Mechanics:

This IF is geared towards storytelling, and while the personality stats and skills will have impacts on the narration as well as the outcomes of certain scenes, they are not the focus. No personality stat checks will bar you from content should you choose a certain personality, so feel free to explore around. The personality stats are there for flavoring (mainly).

Note on Content:

This story is on the darker side of things. Featuring some pretty mature topics and depictions. Below is a list of some things encountered in the book. Please be advised. -Torture. -Coercion to perform jobs. (NOT ANYTHING SEXUAL) -Blood and gore. -Extreme Violence. -Death. -Abuse.

Here’s the link and hope you enjoy it!

https://dashingdon.com/go/15625

[yndrgrl]

yandere! dabi x fem reader?

you're a fool to think that you could trick japan's no. 1 mafia boss, yandere! dabi , & get away with it

long ass fic. crime lord x spy. quirkless! au. heavily tatted! dabi lmaooo. extra dark romance. fem! reader. ooc! dabi. picture "diet mountain dew" playing, thanks. manz is OBSESSED obsessed.

warnings: nsfw, depictions of extreme/hardcore sex, sex slavery, obsessive behavior, making "movies," mentions of heavy stalking & panty stealing, sex in front of his men, sadism, reader passes out, light knifeplay,

a/n: uhhh is this too much (i hope not cuz i have a couple more hardcore ones cooking) 😭 also look, i'm finally doing the requests that are long overdue... my fault, g.

-

"boss, she's here," one of dabi's goons said after he knocked on the large, mahogany door. there was shuffling, laughter, then a muffled "send her in," that followed.

"you heard the man," the other shrugged, opening the door for you. after you, they followed into the room.

your heart was pounding out of your chest & there was a violent ringing in your ear. your breathes were shallow & shaken, yet you had to maintain a calm composure because, in the eyes of japan's most notorious criminal mastermind, you were merely a recruiter for his mob. you're playing the part as a low-life thug/seductress who's in desperate need of money.

of course, that's not the case. you had a good head on your shoulders. you were working for japan's government, a special operation unit ran by a sergeant dubbed "endeavor." your mission is to gather information, find out their next big drug trade, & bust it while keeping your head down. & honestly, it's been going well. you were prepared to fight off dabi's goons left & right because, well... you're a woman, & they are horny, egotistical assholes.

however, none of them approached you. all of them looked scared of you, actually. you felt like a badass, but it was also compromising your mission. how in god's name are you supposed to collect intel of no one will talk with you?

"(y/n), baby, please have a seat," said dabi, snapping you out of your thoughts. you didn't know if you should smile or stay stoic, but your nerves got the better of you & your lips curled upwards.

"yes, sir," you said back. you allowed yourself to notice him, his features. he wore a suit, presumably to look professional even though it just made him look intimidating. with his jet black hair, bags under his piercing blue eyes, & pale skin littered with ink, he had an aura around him, & there's no wonder why or how he's gotten so powerful. his tattoos that were visible to you were mainly on his face & on his hands; there was a bold line stretching ear to ear, dipping in the crevasse of his mouth. it made him look like he had a smile. under the bold line were more intricate tattoos-- flowers, thorns, knives, the works.

"please, call me whatever your heart desires, princess," he purred, & the doors of his lavish office slammed shut. there was no reception in this part of his headquarters, you've already checked. you tried reasoning with your worries, telling yourself that there was no way you've been caught, you haven't even talked to anyone!

you replied, "i am anything but a princess, sir."

"sticking with sir?" he questioned, & you nodded, then he continued, "you can be anything you want to be, no?"

"in the perfect world, i guess i could," you said with furrowed brows. why were you in here exactly?

"no, no, no. that's not what i mean."

"my apologies, what did you mean?" you asked, fighting yourself not to fidget. fidgeting means that your nervous, being nervous means you've done something you're not supposed to, & you haven't dont anything wrong.

"i mean, you," he pointed at you, dragging the word longer than he had to, "you. can be anything you want." he was met with a calculating silence. the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall.

finally, you questioned, "why am i here, sir? i'm just a... you know, a concubine." that was your role.

"oh, are you now? what exactly are you doing for my company?" he leaned forward, his face resting in the palm of his hand. he looked bored, yet there was a twinkle in his eyes that said otherwise. it finally sunk in what kind of position you are in. there are two men guarding the only exit, there are three armed men standing behind dabi, & the infamous crime lord himself was sitting across from you, only a desk length away.

"i'm sending men your way so you can grow you um.. company," you told him, & that was the story you're sticking with.

dabi, with a smirk, muttered under his breath with a laugh, "you're fuckin' priceless, doll." with a clear voice this time, he asked, "has anyone touched you?"

what kind of question is that? "yes, sir." no, no one has, you were lying.

he still had a smirk on his face, his bright blue eyes drilling into yours. he fished something in his pocket, his eyes still glued on you. in your head, you kept screaming it was a gun or a knife, he was going to shoot you point blank, you're about to die-

"why do you look so scared, hun?" taunted dabi, finally throwing his hand out of his pocket, & you flinched. this is it, he's about to kill you with a... lighter? wait. he snapped his fingers with the hand that his face was resting on. one of his henchmen quickly handed him something. lighting it, he sneered, "it's just a cigarette~"

he inhaled deep, & blew out a puff a of grey smoke your direction. "you're so jumpy, babe."

"i'm just confused why i'm here is all," you swallowed, your eyes watering slightly because of the smoke.

"i'm considering you for a promotion," he said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

"a promotion?"

"yeah, you could call it that. instead of being some recruiter-prostitute, how does 'dabi's little housewife slut' sound instead? nice ring to it, huh?" he said, breathing in the tobacco & studying your expression.

"i-i'm sorry?" you coughed out, shocked.

"you can be anything, can't you? that's your whole job, am i wrong?" he questioned, eyes darkening. his playful demeanor was gone, & something more sinister glossed over his expression.

"i'm not sure what you mean-" you were cut off by his fist slamming down on his desk, the things on it vibrating & falling off.

"(y/n), do you think i'm stupid?"

"n-no, of course not, sir!" you tried to reason, maybe he was upset about something else.

"do you think i'm fuckin' stupid?" the man scowled, standing up to his feet. his henchmen gripped their weapons tighter, their backs just a bit more straighter. oh, he knew.

"i don't think you're stupid, sir. you're a smart man, i know that-"

"though your flattery gets me hard, it's unwanted right now, doll," dabi told you as he walked towards you while you were just sitting there, your hands on your lap. you picked the dirt from under your nails, the balls of your feet grinding the vintage rug underneath you. your eyes were trained on him in fear that, if you looked away, he'd pounce.

under your breath, you repeated unsure, "hard?" you didn't mean to say anything, it just slipped out. suddenly, as he was standing directly on your side, he gripped the arms of your chair & forced it to turn. he caged you between him & the chair, him bent down so his face was only inches away from you. you could smell the smoke on his breath, his expensive cologne, & faint iron smell-- whether it was blood or gunpowder, you didn't want to find out.

"you're so bold, spying on me~ i didn't think you'd actually accept the job, yet here you are, thinking you are just so clever, huh?" he laughed in your face, but his tone was still deep.

"y-you know?" you stuttered out, eyes wide. he was so close to you, he was a killer with no remorse, that's what they told you before you took this mission. you've heard it all before, & you've taken guys like him down, but they've never caught on to you. you had no plan, all you could do is hope that your crew knew your location.

"of course i know, (y/n)~ i know so much about you, & i must say, i'm such a fan," he started, looking at you up and down. you weren't cowering away from him, but you also weren't confident. you were going to try something, he knew it. "i'm honored to be your next big case. it's such a shame you won't be completing your mission though."

you swallowed thickly, & you gave him your best don't-fuck-with-me glare you could muster. "what now then? you caught me, you gonna kill me now?" you barked, hoping to intimidate him. instead, you were met with a bone chilling smile.

he chuckled, brushing his fingers through his wild hair, "oh no, sweetheart, i'm afraid you don't understand~" you started to search for something under your skirt-your gun- when he tightly gripped your wrist. "don't," he warned as he matched your glare.

the firm grasp you had on your gun loosened & it fell on the floor. he kicked it towards one of his men, who swiftly unloaded the mag & tossed it in the trash. "if it's information you want, you're not getting it outta me."

"wrong again, you get one more chance."

"would you stop fucking with me!?" you screamed at him, ready to oppose anything he wanted you to do. he gripped your chin, his fingers squishing your cheeks together, & your hands shot up & held his wrist as you tried to wriggle out.

"watch your mouth when you talk to me," he warned, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. "such a dirty mouth. if you were anyone else, i would've shot you instantly. consider yourself lucky."

"shtawp! le'me go!" you muttered through your puckered up lips, & surprisingly, he listened. once he let you go, you through yourself back into the chair to create as much distance as possible (it wasn't much). "wh-what are you going on about, dabi?"

"i thought i was, 'sir,' doll? what happened? we friends now?" he teased. the man gave you a fake pout & an eye roll.

"you wish. now answer me. what are you t-" he locked eyes with you once again, & you stumbled over your words, "t-talking about?"

he let out a dark chuckle, kneeling in front of you so his face was nearly resting on your lap. "princess, haven't you notice something weird has been happening ever since you took down shigiraki almost a year ago? don't you always feel like you're never alone? things appear in your car out of nowhere? your panties go missing from your apartment? haven't you ever wondered why you always feel so uneasy no matter where you are?"

your expression shifted from confused to terrified.

"you think you're all alone when you're scrubbing those perfect tits in the shower, huh? you really put on a show f'me when you masterbate. so fuckin' nasty, you know. i would love to know who's on your mind when you fingerfuck yourself," he said, licking his lips. his suit pants were tight enough that it was hard to miss the growing bulge. your eyes were teary out of embarrassment. "but i think i know who's on your mind when you do such dirty things."

"y-you don't know anything. m-my crew will be here soon o-once they realize i-i've been caught!" you fought, yet he had no care in the world. he through open your legs & tsked. you were told to wear a short skirt to "make it more believable," & now you're regretting everything. you tried to press your hands in between your thighs to block your clothed pussy out of his curious gaze.

"do you think so? cuz i think that they've completely forgetten about you 'cuz someone gave endeavor an anonymous tip on where my next drug deal will be held. i think that's more important than some captured spy, to be honest," he told you, "besides -men, hold her down- i have a feeling you actually really want this."

his goons, as they were told, held your wrists to the arms of the chair while another stood behind you, his gun looming just barely in the line of your vision. your legs were spread, & your arms were restrained. you thrashed as dabi's hot touch trailed up your calf to your inner thigh. your face was red hot in anger & flushed in shame. to fit your role, you wore a dark purple thong. your body betrayed you, a wet spot staining your panties. "st-stop! you-you're under arrest!"

"i-i-i am! oh n-no! wh-whatever will i do?!" he mocked, & his men laughed like he was some comedian. "please, (y/n), love, drop the fuckin' act. it's cute & all, but i'd rather you'd just stop pretending, i want you to enjoy this as much as i'm going to~" he faux pleaded, but he knew, either way, you were going to love it eventually. he heard your sighs of content whenever you read 'good guy x bad guy' spicy romances, he recorded you moaning his name when you first got assigned to this case.

"i-i really won't tell anyone, p-please let me go," you begged, watching him stand up & take off his blazer. he threw off his tie, unbuttoned his white dress shirt, revealing his toned, tatted body. every part of his torso, chest, & arms were inked with dark grey tattoos. on his left pec was your initials in some fancy, grand font-- except it was a fleshy pink. a healed scar.

"you like it? or are you scared? i can't really tell," dabi questioned, leaning close to you. his guard's hands were replaced by his. "(y/n), if you tell me to stop nicely, maybe i will. granted, i'll lock you up until you're ready, but i'd wait. so tell me, with that dirty mouth of yours, what do you want?"

"uhm... w-what are you talking about?" you tried to avoid his inquiries, it shamed you to say the least. if you were to say what you wanted -what you truly wanted- you'd betray your country. you didn't want to answer.

"now, or later?" he repeated, tapping your wrist. "i'm gonna need to hear you say somethin' or i'll just do whatever i want, & trust me; you won't be able to handle it."

you were silent, your eyes darted from his icy ones, to his cold lips, to his tattooed body, & back to his eyes. avoidant, maybe that's all you have to do. he'll get bored of someone quiet, no?

"(y/n)~ sweetheart~ you're making a bad choice by keeping your mouth shut, unless that's what you want. you want me to use you, hm?" he teased, biting his lip afterward. dabi knew that look you were giving him because it's the one he gives you all the time. pure, primal lust. intrigue. but mostly lust.

you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. your heart was beating out of your chest, your voice caught onto your throat. you pondered, just for a moment, & you let your impulse control the outcome; you stayed silent.

after shutting your mouth, dabi smirked devilishly. "you've made your choice, remember that. so don't get too mad at me, 'kay? i give you permission to enjoy this as much as you want, but you probably didn't need my permission," he snickered. the man didn't even let you answer before capturing your rosy lips with his.

his kisses were intense, rough, yet so, so needy for you. in between pants & kisses, he whispered things like, "i've held myself back f' you," &, "god, fuckin' finally." your wrists were once again restrained by his henchmen, while his hands wandered around your body. as one hand cup your precious face, the other groped your tits through your clothes. if one shifted around your neck, the other one would be gripping your hips, bruising you already.

his pierced tongue explored your mouth. saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin. his tongue was down your throat as he choked you. your spine jolted when two, long fingers began to ghost up and down your pussy, pushing a little harder over your clothes clit. he hooked the front part of your thong & pulled up. you let out a muffled scream as your panties disappeared in between your pussy lips. they were drenched in your arousal, & now you started leaking onto your skirt & his chair.

he finally released you from his kiss, your lungs burning. you let in a few shallow breaths before dabi bit your neck. he still had your thong wrapped around his finger, & every so often, he would pull upwards, & a scream of pained pleasure would follow in suit. bite marks & hickeys covered your neck. "all mine~" he purred, licking your tender neck.

"let's get these fuckin' clothes off'a ya," snarled dabi through gritted teeth. it was like opening a present for him. he tore through your t-shirt with ease, not even bothering undressing you all the way so the fabric just hung off of your shoulders. he suddenly fished a knife out of his pocket & cut your bra off of your body. he glided the dull side between the valley of your breasts, down to your heaving stomach. he shoved your mini skirt up around your waist & he cut off your soaked thong.

"fuckin' hell, babe. i've been dreaming about this," he groaned, stabbing the blade into his wooden desk. dabi squeezed your plush thighs, his handprints bruised on your skin. what was strange was how his men acted while the two of you were intimate; they were stoic & unwavering, their hardened faces expressionless.

they were under dabi's complete control, & that's just how he is. he knows how to get people on his side, he knows when they're interested, that's why he's such an influential man. "you really thought you could trick me?" he barked, pulling his leather belt out of his pants' loops. he fastened the belt around your wrists. "poor, little (y/n)~ all hot & bothered in front of the enemy~" with your hands bound, your legs were put onto the arms of the chair. once again, you were restrained by his men. ashamed & -quite honestly- turned on, you were splayed out on the chair, legs spread & pussy throbbing.

he undid the button on his pants, & they fell to the floor. his boxers were soon to follow. you were gawking his member, you couldn't help it. it's the biggest, thickest, you've ever been with in your life.

a smug, toothy grin stretched on his face as he watched your reaction. "you look shocked, doll," he noticed. dabi stood right in front of you, the tip of his cock gently slapping your clit. the contact made you jolt every time. "you've never been with someone like me, huh? that's why you're so quiet?"

you nodded sheepishly while you stared up at him with your doe eyes. he coated himself in your arousal before lining himself up with your entrance. dabi, in such a hushed tone it almost sounded sweet, cooed, "it's a shame i'm gonna use that perfect body. i want you to remember you chose this."

"y-yes sir, i-i remember," you replied back. when he whispered in your ear, it sent electricity up your spine, & you'd subconsciously arch your back.

he placed a firm kiss on your jaw, & he praised, "that's my girl~" dabi slid past you folds, diving himself into your entrance. he let out a throaty groan as he through his head back. his adam's apple bobbed, his hair becoming even more disheveled. dabi wasn't a man known for his slow, savory approach; his gentle demeanor was short-lived. he forced his cock into your dripping hole balls-deep. you let out a breathy scream, eyes widen for a second.

dabi towered over you, muscles flexed with every thrust. he pounded you into the chair that, with every thrust, you felt the chair legs wobble underneath you. he shooed his guards away from you because, in all honesty, you were not getting away from him. he's wanted you for too damn long, he's been patient enough.

honestly, it surprised him how slow you were taking the mission. you were behind enemy lines for months, you'd think that you would want to spend the least amount of time there as possible. it's no matter though, he has you right where he wants you. "aren't you worried, (y/n)? you're so quick to trust me," he pointed out in between his harsh thrusts.

every jerk made your tits bounce; he was fucking you so hard that your hearing became fuzzy. he kept hitting your g-spot over & over with the same roughness. "mnh~ t-too fast~ ngh-ahh," you whimpered. did he say something? if he didn't, you didn't even notice. it just was so overwhelming. even though you couldn't keep your mind straight, dabi still kept fucking you like you were some sex doll.

what snapped you back to reality was when a snap echoed off the walls, & your elevation changed. there was a pressure against your chest & a slight pain your back that was soon stretched out. the chair broke from beneath you. your head was cupped by dabi's tattooed hand. he laid flush against you while he folded you in half. your knees were to your chest & your legs rested on his broad shoulders.

at this angle, you could feel his cock in your stomach pumping in & out of your pussy. you let out a scream of pleasure as you begged, "sl-slow down! c-can't handle it!"

"aww~ i'm so sorry, doll face. i can't do that for you. maybe next time though," he joked as though he wasn't pounding you into oblivion. tears of overstimulation & slight frustration welled in your eyes. it was like you were cursed to overwhelming pleasure & moaning out his name forever.

god, did he have stamina. after an hour of raw fucking, he flipped in so many different positions. after the mating press, he put you into missionary with a tight grip on your plush hips. your arousal stained his expensive carpet, not that he cared because he'll just hire someone to clean it.

while he missionary, he let out a hearty groan, & his voice broke for a second. he held you tight as he drained his cum inside of your weeping hole. you thought that would be the end, but he took only a moment to breath before flipping you over to fuck you from behind.

ass in the air, back arched, & your face pressed against the ground, you saw stars that began to cloud your already-blurry vision. he rubbed your sensitive clit while he pumped his cock in & out of gorgeous, pitiful you. you whined for an ounce of sympathy. it was your first mistake thinking he was a normal man, & your second mistake was staying quiet when he so-graciously gave you a choice on how you wanted him.

"you're taking me so well, doll~" he praised with kisses on your arched back. you clenched around him when he said that, & his brow quirked up. "oh? you like that? you're squeezing so tight after i said that," he laughed. "you're such a pretty girl, all cock drunk just f'me~"

"st-stop it, you're b-being so-so mean," you sniffled but you didn't actually mean it... you were kind of a brat, but that's a secret you'd never tell. xoxo.

once you said that, he went more rough than before-- something you didn't realize was possible. you've creamed on his cock more times than you could count on your fingers with both your hands, yet he's only ejaculated once. the white stars started out as tiny dots, yet every time you came on dabi's thick, hard cock, they grew bigger. "g-gunna, i'm g-gunna... cu.. cum," you droned, letting the white stars overtake your vision, & all the sounds you hear became nothing more than a buzz. the only thing you could hear is dabi's laughter as you slowly slipped from consciousness. you squirted all over his cock -something you've never done before- then passed out. you went completely limp as subconscious sighs of pure hormonal ecstasy mixed with your heaving breath.

"uh oh, someone couldn't handle it," dabi tutted, yet he was still relentless as ever, make good of his promise to use you however he pleased. "what time is it?" he called out, & one of his men answered.

"hmm... i think it's about time for the show to begin then~" dabi said, petting your knotted hair as he scratched your scalp (all while he's still inside you, mind you). he came all over your ass a few moments later, then he carried you to his leather couch.

~~~

"where the fuck are we?" endeavor muttered as he stood in front of an abandoned movie theater.

"this is where the tip said dabi would be," his right hand man, hawks, told him. they were both in their tactical gear equipped with war-grade guns & knives at their disposal. soldiers rushed out the back of van in a single file line & they branched off to surround the building. some hid within the trees & branches, others crouched beside the doors to the building, but they were all waiting for one thing; endeavor's command. "should we try contacting (y/n) to see if she's heard anything?"

"we can't," endeavor said shortly, it would compromise the mission if they reached out to you before the designated time. you've agreed to have a twenty minute rendezvous with one of your "co-workers" every three days at three in the morning. your next scheduled rendezvous would be tomorrow.

his walkie-talkie buzzed off, & one of the squad captains said, "team one, in position."

"team two, in position."

"team three, in position."

"team four, in position."

endeavor, after hearing each captain, responded, "team zero, in position. take initiative in three... two... one...!" the burly man kicked open the main entrance door then pointed his gun around, using the flashlight to scan the area.

on his radio, he suddenly heard, "we've found something in theater nine!"

"hold your position, i am on my way. any surrounding teams make your way towards theater nine."

he stepped over debris, ignored any graffiti on the wall, & noted just how dark the atmosphere got the further he went down the corridor. down the hall was a glowing number nine above the very end left door. the fact that there was still electricity running through the building made him wonder how long dabi has been using this place for deliveries. it made him upset that he was right under his nose.

for years he's been hunting this man, this mafia who always seemed to be two steps ahead of him. now? now he had the upper hand. he has the newest, strongest equipment. his men were in the peak physical condition with reaction times as fast as f1 drivers. yet why was it this easy? he couldn't help but wonder.

endeavor reached theater nine, hawks close behind. the rest of his team stayed out of the room for look out. the other teams were already in the theater, fingers on their guns' trigger. it made a few of them jump when the projector started. "there's a man up there!" one yelled, & immediately endeavor turned over his shoulder to shoot at the projector window.

the bullet shattered the window, narrowly missing the shadowy figure. a team was already in pursuit, the captain speaking through their radio to let the others know. the projector was still running, & a voice caught endeavor's attention. his breath hitched, eyes narrowed.

"hello, endeavor~" greeted dabi, shirtless & coy as ever. "right on time, how did i know you were gonna be here?" he taunted, & endeavor noticed dabi's icy eyes darting down then back to the camera. all that was in frame was his upper half, a grand bookshelf in the background. his arm rested stretched out on the back his sofa. the other was in his lap.

"now before you leave & try to take this film for whatever, i wanna give you some peace in mind. my initial plan was just to blow all of you gullible fuckers up, but your cute little spy begged me not to, so you all better thank her. bad news though, you're not gonna see her any time soon," dabi sighed with fake sadness.

whispers erupted from endeavors soldiers. "(y/n)? is he talking about (y/n)?" "fuck... you don't think he..."

"don't get you panties in a twist, she's more than alright. i take good care of her. honestly, i should thank you for sending her right to me. when we get married, i might invite you to the wedding~" he cackled, & a cough was heard through the video. dabi suddenly looked down & yanked something, no, someone up. the back of your head was seen on the bottom of the camera.

"you fucker," endeavor cursed, even though it would fall on deaf ears. he couldn't tear his eyes away from the video. he wasn't even studying it anymore, he was just listening in disbelief.

"i made this movie to... send a message, i guess you could say," he shrugged nonchalantly. he looked back down to you, & his eyes softened. "c'mere, princess," he whispered, & as though you were hypnotized, you climbed atop his lap. "face the camera, show everyone how pretty you are~" & you did as you were told.

gasps filled the theater, nearly everyone looked away & took off their helmets. "oh, my god," hawks said in shock, it just slipped out. he looked at his -self-proclaimed- partner to gauge his reaction. endeavor couldn't tear his icy blue eyes away from the screen. he was as stiff as a statue, breath held.

the camera zoomed out, & there you were in dabi's bare lap, he held your legs wide open. your eyelids drooped, drool made your lips glossy, & you were practically limp in his hold. goops of cum seeped out of your puffy pussy, there was ropes of his semen covered your thighs & lower stomach. hickeys & hand-shape marks bruised your skin. instead of yearning eyes, begging for help, you had a nearly lovesick smile on your face. gently, dabi kissed your head, pecking down to your cheeks & he said hushed sweet-nothings into your ear.

"don't ever try to spy on me again, endeavor. & don't try to save (y/n), she doesn't need it. i promise i'll take such good care of her~"

[bahrtofane]

about time

things have always been easy with trent, attached to the hip since you could remember. your other half, his biggest supporter. things were bound to turn romantic no? everyone was rooting for it, secretly you always were too. 

your first date as a couple goes more or less how you planned, awkward and full of teasing. 

word count : 3.1K+

watch it : mild jealousy, cuties, fluff fluff, kinda domestic near the end?

—--

“eat your food." 

you squint, "what the hell else am i doing, you eat your food."

he scoffs, "im literally half way done with my plate."

"it's literally not even a proper portion of course you're almost done." you point at his tiny little section of steak on about a tablespoon of mash potatoes. 

he waves you off and makes a comment about the "liberty of a kitchen."

you ignore this and take another bite of whatever the hell you ordered. you don't remember. you were too busy trying not to focus too much on the man in front of you.  the all black outfit is insanity, you know he only went for it because you told him ages ago all black looks the best on him. and now here you are. suffering

you just nodded to whatever the waitress was saying. though she could have done with less ogglying at your date. your trent. 

you take pride in knowing your his go to, his best friend, his #1. you've been by his side longer than you can remember being without. he's your other half in every sense. before the fame and money, lavish life and dwindling time. he's always been yours somehow. 

maybe you should've known at some point that feelings were bound to be brewing. 

everyone and their mother had told you. hell, even your own mother had told you so. but you waved them off. he's my friend, no trent is my best friend, ew no that would be so weird, i can't even stand hin on a good day, he's annoying, nope just friends. 

now look at you. seated across from each other, his sleeves rolled up while you eat in candle light. the dark blue drapery of the establishment makes this feel way more intimate than needed. and the chandeliers that hang over your head are enough to make you stare in wonder. 

his sharp features almost soften like this, tucked away in a far corner away from prodding eyes and unnecessary media attention. where it's only the two of you in your little bubble, and the soft live piano that travels from the main foye. you enjoy this, but mainly you enjoy him. 

you noticed he cleaned up his facial hair for this, it makes your heart melt. the silver jewelry that shines on his golden skin is a mirror of the silver that drapes across you. he told you to wear silver. the maniac. he planned this all the way down to the damn jewelry. 

(the both of you are matching in general, which makes you feel something closer to insanity, it gives you a thrill when people’s gazes wash over the two of you and they can so easily tell you are here together. for each other. the stares you got while walking in don't go unforgotten.)

he's the one who dragged you to this restaurant, one much more fancy that you care for. any establishment that calls for floor length dresses to eat is above you, but he insisted. even taking time to tell you how stunning you looked on the way here. your cheeks were on fire the whole time you tried to come up with a counter, failing miserably and just telling him he looked handsome too. 

what a gentleman, driving you here and keeping a hand on yours the whole time. you were sweating the whole time. this whole thing is new to you. but you try not to explode while you sit across from him, sipping on your water to avoid eye contact. 

trent pretends to suddenly be very interested in the silverware, but you don't miss the way his gaze still manages to shift over to you, landing somewhere between your eyes and lips.

you sigh loudly, your appetite disappearing while you push your plate in front of you. 

"do not even start." he warns, fork raised and pointed at you. 

"i didn't even do anything ! what's with you tonight. "

"could ask you the same thing," he mumbles between mouthfuls of his steak, "you're being, very weird."

"im on a dinner date with you how else do you want me to act."

he coughs awkwardly at this, "i don't know ! normally. you haven't made fun of my shoes yet. where's the old grouchy evil and conniving friend i know. you're too, " he waves his fork in the air trying to find the right word, "civil."

you snort, "that's a mouthful. i don't know this whole dynamic shift is taking a while to get used to, " you shrug.

"we need to stop saying i don't know so often." he sighs, rubbing his eyes aggressively. 

you choose to ignore that bit, "and i need to be civil in public or your adoring fans might have my head."

he rolls his eyes, "that's a stretch."

you wave him off with a hand, "you never know. crazy people do crazy things."

he looks at you fondly at this, giving you one of his signature smiles, you look away and change the subject as fast as you can think. you don't need weak knees in a high end establishment. 

"you know i would've been just fine with takeout and a movie." you mumble softly.

he gives you a soft look " i know, but i wanted to make it special. take you out somewhere nice for a change. we never do that."

"you're not going to let me pay are you?" you muse.

he gives you a look, "im offended you even brought that up. i hope you know you're never going to be paying for things ever again right."

"and i hope you know i'm going to fight you over it the whole way through."

he finds this amusing, "yeah yeah yeah shut up and eat your food, i think my socks are sliding off my foot."

"i don't want to hear about your sweaty foot while i eat trent, gross." you fake gag. 

"cry about it." he dead pans. 

you narrow your eyes at him, "i'm going to talk about the pimple i popped on my shoulder, in great detail. is that what you want?"

"ew gross hell no. no more socks or feet geez." he scoffs. 

you cackle, "problem solved then."

he rolls his eyes but goes back to eating anyway, cutting his steak with way too much force than necessary. 

you on the other hand have to play tug of war with the fabric of your dress in order to keep it where you want it. 

"you want to leave don't you?" he comments. 

"that obvious?" he nods, "yep," popping the p.

"i don't want it to seem like I'm ungrateful for the effort or anything, because i swear it's not like that. i'm happy to be with you regardless and yeah. we don't have to leave." you try to explain. 

as much as you enjoy spending time with him this isn't your scene. you're aching to go home, and so are you poor ankles. these heels can only be worn for so long and they are coming up on their expiration date for the night. maybe trent can help take them- no fuck. bad. bad bad. this is a dinner, you're at dinner be civil. 

trent seems to be none the wiser as his attention remains on you. 

"why would we stay if you don't want to ?" he looks at you confused, brows drawn together, arm propped up against the table while he waits for an explanation. 

"because you're the one who wanted to come here?" "so? if you wanna go home then we'll go home."

home. oh. he's starting to refer to his house as home. for the both of you. that does something to you, you're almost dizzy. god how can one person be so sweet. 

"we can finish up and head home? i really don't mind." you suggest. 

he hums at this, "alright then. we’re stopping by the chinese place you like so much, you didn't even eat. "

"to be fair, the portions are the size of my pinkie and i think they took too much creative liberty in the kitchen." you wrinkle your nose. 

he giggles, that shy little spurt of laughter, the one you love so much and always try to coax out of him, "i forget the flavors can be uh, adventurous with most of their dishes. "

you chuckle, "definitely adventurous."

he flags down the waitress from earlier who bats her eyelashes one too many times at him while you roll your eyes. he gives you a glare while he pays, before you can open your mouth. while you get up, dusting your dress down, he presses you flush to him, effectively shutting down any advances. you can't help but grin at the little act. even if your skin is on fire from the contact.

your lead out the back by one of the valets to avoid the busy main section and the endless cameras that wait for you from the front.

you step out to a colder night than you expected, rubbing your arms in a futile attempt to warm yourself up. the valet steps away to retrieve his car while you shiver harder than a skeleton animatronic in a halloween pop up store. 

trent notices, coming up behind you to wrap both arms around your waist, pulling you close. 

"cold?" he has the nerve to ask, flush against you and the damn dress that clings against your skin, his breath tickles your ear while you lick your lips nervously. his arms are much more muscular up close. the whole of him is, you can feel the efforts of his training as they hold you. good lord you're going to lose your mind. and the chest you're pressed up against? do not.

"a little." you whisper back, afraid to say much more.  

he hums, rubbing your arms for you, sending goosebumps all the way down your spine, and he has the audacity to chuckle at your reaction. 

"cars gonna be here soon."

you can only nod dumbly.

he unlatches when the car comes into view. thanking the man with a clap on shoulder, almost like an old friend, and a generous tip.

he opens the door for you, holding his arm out to help you balance, sweet of him. 

you duck inside while he says his last thanks and goodbyes to the valet, turning on the heat first thing when he gets inside. 

the drive is silent, not much to talk about after you confessed your love to each other just days before. 

you could almost laugh at the complete 180 from this week to the last. youre so so glad it ended up this way nonetheless. you don't think you could handle another second suffering in silence. 

how it all went down makes you cry in full honesty. it was an argument. over fucking instagram. you were bitching about the girls who are on his dick and he called you over protective and you defended yourself because duh. that somehow had spiraled into how he's insane, and then your relationship. and then you stormed out, don't ask, you don't remember. 

he tracked you down at your place with flowers as an apology and you just lost it, because what kind of friend gets flowers and calls in just platonic?

lucky for the both of you it wasnt platonic, not to him, not to you. 

he confessed first, that you were more important to him than any of the women he follows combined and so much more. you're his everything can't you see that? he loves you, in every sense. he hates seeing you upset so please, don't cry. 

you kissed him, slow and hesitant while he broke out in giggles. 

"does that mean what i think it does ?" he had whispered against your lips. 

you nodded, shy and tender. 

"i need to hear it. please, say it." breathless, at the cusp of losing his grip on everything. 

"i love you trent, more than i think i can explain. you are my other half yeah? my everything."

and so here you are, watching the shapes of the city breeze past you as the gps guides you to your beloved chinese take out. you can almost taste the noodles you're so ready for it you're starving. 

a hand rests on your thigh, softly tracing shapes the rest of the way there and you hide a smile. you don't think you'll ever get used to any of this new found affection. things you once only day dreamed of having now right in front of you.

you're drowsy by the time you pull into the familiar parking lot. you giggle at just how ridiculous the two of you look. stepping out of a probably hundred thousand dollar car, if not more. dressed like you're going to the ballon d'or. all while walking into a quiet little family own take out spot. 

trent takes your hand again, while you fight to bunch up your dress to get over the obnoxious curve. 

he fights a smile while locking the car behind you. 

"you try getting over this mountain in heels and this long ass dress i dare you." you hiss. 

he snorts but keeps his mouth shut as you inside the familiar space. sighing in glee. 

the kind older woman who always takes your orders doesn't bat an eye at your dress, but welcomes you with a warm hug. 

“the usual?” she beams, even at this time of night. cheery as ever. 

“yes please !”

she smiles, getting to work making your order while you drum against your thigh. bad habit. 

you’re very thankful it’s as late as it is, the place is dead empty. a little safe haven. 

you reach into your purse but mr “i’ll pay for it all” stops you. 

you tsk, “come on this is my spot. i want to tip her well. let me at least have this after that fancy meal.”

“i said i would pay,” he states firmly. 

“i know, but paying here is special to me. and i want it to come from my hand. she deserves it after all the kindness she’s shown to me over the years.” you gesture to her wrapping up your boxes. 

you remember when you used to be a student low on cash, she would always fill your plate with double of everything or just give you the next size up, and extra dessert, free drink. the little things, life is all about the little things. 

he sighs, “fine fine. i won’t take this away from you. “

you smile, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. he waits for you on the side while you go up to the counter. 

she smiles at you knowingly, “finally made a move on that one huh?” 

you blush, “we both made moves and things worked out well. “

she grins, “finally. i thought it would never happen, you know. maybe i’ll get to see your kids too huh?”

you chuckle, kids with trent huh. not a bad idea, “maybe you will.” you sigh fondly. handing her the money. 

you hand a few boxes to trent and motion to the door before she catches on. but it’s a little late. 

you sneak out of there while she’s yelling at you to take your change, “keep it ! it’s all for you !!” you shout back. giggling while you and trent make your escape. 

the ride to his house is filled with laughter and you don’t ever remember being happier. 

its all giggles and shy smiles as he leads you up to his home, hand in hand while you race up the steps and make a dash for the elevator. the door man gives you too a look but doesn’t comment, yet. you know he will sooner or later but you don’t care. 

the take out boxes are split in between the two of you as you hold them snug against your chest. humming softly as the elevator opens. 

the ride up is filled with soft teasing, and more compliments. 

"im serious!" he shoves you gently, "you look, incredible." 

your face burns with enough heat to power an oven, his words do a number on you and all you want is to hear them over and over. but you don't say this. 

"you look so handsome trent." is all you find to reply back. 

a shy smile is what you get in return as the elevator opens. the walk is familiar but your feet are making it feel much longer than needed. 

he opens the door and you dont waste a second collapsing on his couch, groaning at the pressure finally being off your feet. he takes the boxes from your hands and sets them on the living room table, kicking his shoes off somewhere as he organizes them just how you like. 

"eat first then change?" he takes a seat next to you. 

you shake your head, "don't wanna ruin the dress."

"alright," he nods

you attempt to get up but your feet are swollen by the looks of it and you could cry at the though of taking another step in these damned heels. 

you reach over carefully to begin the effort of getting them of you but holy fuck is it taking much longer than needed.

"you're taking so long," he groans, scooting down to raise right ankle to rest gently in his knee, hands working slowly. 

you sigh in sweet sweet relief when the intricate lacing finally comes undone and your foot can breathe. he does the same to the left, bringing it up to rest against your right.

 your head falls back against the couch cushions, eyes closed and relaxed. it gives you a moment to really appreciate it all. to appreciate him. 

you crack your eyes open when he gives your leg a gentle tap, all done. 

you swing your feet back to the ground, scooting up closer to him. it's a beat of silence where he watches you, wait for your move. and you press gentle kisses on both cheeks, then nose, one on his forehead, and finally his lips. 

he can't keep his hands to himself at the end, a hand finds your waist, tugging you closer to him, impossibly close. the other cups your cheek gently. 

you won't part till you run out of air, panting gently against each other's skin.

"thank you." you mumble against his lips.

he hums, "anything for you. you know what."

you could reach the clouds like this, could reach the stars.

[yokohamapound]

ok but like consider,, dazai, akutagawa, kunikida and atsushi (or anyone else u wanna add my request is mainly for akutagawa and kunikida) working alone and you open your coat to reveal you're just wearing lingerie underneath <3

Ah, such a classic move! <3

Characters: Kunikida Doppo, Dazai Osamu, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Nakajima Atsushi, Nakahara Chuuya

Contents: gn!reader, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, mild derogatory dirty talk

Kunikida Doppo

Kunikida is often to be found working late in the Armed Detective Agency’s office, especially after the conclusion of a case. Or if Dazai has been especially a pain in the ass that day and prevented Kunikida from keeping to his packed work schedule. Kunikida is not the type of man who’ll let the day’s work slip over to tomorrow. That’s how nations start to crumble (according to him). 

Hours after the rest of the agency have gone home, even Fukuzawa, Kunikida is still there, typing away at his laptop, the glare of the screen making his glasses seem opaque. His only concession to the late hour is a half-drunk cup of coffee sitting beside the laptop. 

His head twists around when the door to the agency office opens. Who could it be this late at night? Atsushi coming to check up on him? Dazai coming to sleep on the couch again? He tenses when he sees the tan colour of a trenchcoat through the wavy glass of the office door, but his shoulders loosen when he sees you in the doorway. 

“What are you doing here so late?” he asks you, turning back to finish that last bit of paperwork. “And what’s with the coat? You’re not trying to dress like Dazai now, are you?”

He hopes not. Kunikida doesn’t need to be jump-scared like that every time you meet up with him. He’s only half-listening when you give him some excuse about being cold. Faintly, he picks up the sound of high heels clicking against the polished floorboards as you make your way over to him. He catches a hint of perfume as you come to stand at his shoulder. 

“I’m almost finished,” he grunts, his fingers flying so fast across the keyboard they seem to blur slightly at the edges. He’s tired, and it must be late indeed if you’ve come to pick him up. He turns his head to ask about what you two should pick up for dinner on the way home, when his jaw falls open like someone pulled out a screw holding it shut.

You’ve allowed your trenchcoat to fall open, revealing your body clad in scraps of structured silk and lace. Something classy and timeless, in soft cream or sultry black. It’s like something out of an old movie or a vintage catalogue. Kunikida’s glasses steam up briefly, before he slams his laptop closed.

“Doppo,” you chide, faking a gasp. “You didn’t put a period on that last sentence of your paperwork. You can’t just leave it…unfinished like that.”

Kunikida pulls off his glasses, his expression stern. “This time,” he proclaims, his voice deep and momentous, “I’ll make an exception.”

Kunikida drives you home, driving so close to the speed limit he’s practically edging it, with one hand buried firmly between your thighs. If you’re very misbehaved, he might use his notebook to conjure something to keep you…occupied…on the drive home.

Dazai Osamu

You went one better for this and stole Dazai’s trenchcoat. Let’s leave it up for debate whether he knew what you were up to and let you steal his coat to pull off your little performance—it’s more fun that way. 

Because it’s Dazai, you arrange to meet at a bar for a date. Preferably one where he’s not already run up a tab or been slapped by all of the female bartenders and waiting staff. There are a few of those left in Yokohama, you just have to look really hard for them. 

When you arrive, Dazai is sitting on a barstool, one foot propped on the footrest, his elbows on the bar. He’s sans trenchcoat, dressed in his dark waistcoat, with the sleeves of his blue pinstripe shirt rolled up to his mid-forearm, revealing the bandages wrapped around his wrists. Spotting you in the reflection of the bottles behind the bar, he glances over at you. Dazai’s dark eyes sweep over you from head to toe, and he immediately knows there’s something interesting going on beneath that trenchcoat.

“You know,” he drawls. “I lost a coat just like that this morning. It’s quite the startling coincidence, don’t you think?”

He's so intrigued that he even cracks open his wallet to buy you a drink (shocking, I know). Dazai's eyes are glued to the sight of you cinched into his coat. His eyes drop down when you sit on the barstool beside him, crossing your legs. His fingers tighten around the cut crystal of his glass. 

"Is that...lace?"

At your smug confirmation that is indeed lace, Dazai knocks back his drink. No time to savour the liquor. He pinches the hem of the trenchcoat and lifts it up a little further to see the stocking clinging to your thigh. 

Dazai's eyes glint dangerously in the dim overhead lights of the bar. 

"Bella." His voice is a lusty purr as his hand runs up your thigh, fingers plucking at the top of your stocking, tracing circles into your soft flesh. "I'll give you a thirty second head start. When I catch up to you..."

I hope you can find somewhere relatively private in the next thirty seconds. 

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

If you thought it might be a good idea to copy the move above and wear Akutagawa’s trenchcoat over your lingerie, let me gently pry that idea from your eager little hands. It is not a good idea, and it will not end well. Just get your own trenchcoat. Maybe in a nice shade of camel?

Akutagawa waits impatiently for you in the middle of town, watching the civilians amble around between stores, his eyes narrowed in irritation. He doesn't know why you asked to meet him here, but it feels like a waste of his time. He decides he will wait only five more minutes before he leaves.

A flicker of something pale from the corner of his eye. It's a Pavlovian response—Akutagawa's head whips around. Instead of his former master, he instead spots you click-clacking toward him in a pair of heels, wrapped in a light trenchcoat. Hair? Done. Make-up? Flawless. 

Akutagawa's forehead furrows, his voice pitched low with annoyance and confusion. "Why are you wearing that?"

You're used to his pricky demeanour by now and it doesn't faze you. You turn so you are facing away from the crowds, slowly untying the belt. You peel open the front of the waistcoat enough to give Akutagawa a glimpse of what lies underneath. 

Black lace. Smooth skin. Silk. 

His throat tightens, and for once it doesn't signal the onset of a coughing fit. Akutagawa's eyes widen, his teeth and fists clenching.

"What in the hells are you wearing?" he demands.

"Lingerie," you say, retying the the belt of your trenchcoat. "Don't you like it?"

Akutagawa knows every alley and alcove of Yokohama. Every blind spot and dead end. He puts this knowledge to good use as he manhandles you into the nearest semi-private spot. Bands of Rashoumon wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you up against the alleyway wall. 

Akutagawa's pale hands tremble with suppressed excitement as he unties the trenchcoat and peels it open again. The sight of you, dressed in such a lewd fashion and bound, makes his cock harden fast enough to make him dizzy. His voice is low, curt.

"If you insist on dressing like a harlot, I shall treat you like one. After all, that is what you wanted, is it not? My attention."

Please don't worry about making any noise. He'll simply use Rashoumon to gag you. <3

Nakajima Atsushi

Oh dear, are you trying to give the poor boy a heart attack?

Atsushi is at the Armed Detective Agency office alone. Perhaps it's lunchtime and the rest of the agents and staff have retired downstairs for coffee and lunch at Cafe Uzumaki. Atsushi needs to finish his report, or he's flat broke and doesn't want to have to mooch of Kunikida in the cafe again, so he's eating some cold rice balls at his desk.

He sputters on a mouthful of onigiri when the door swings open, popping up like a daisy from his desk, expecting it to be a client. He sags in relief when he sees it is just you, hastily brushing some grains of rice from the front of his shirt.

“Hi!”

Oh, he’s so chirpy to see you. It really is adorable. Look at how the smile blossoms on his face. There are practically sparkles coming off him as he heads toward you. 

Only for Atsushi to stop in his tracks when you casually untie the front of your coat and flash him the sight of your body in sweet, pink-and-white lingerie. You’re frosted in lace and frills like a little cupcake, and Atsushi’s brain jams like the printer.

“H-buh? Whuh? You…you…”

His face burns crimson, standing out stark against his white hair, and he whips his head around to make sure there is no one else in the office, even though he’s relatively sure he’s alone. Atsushi grabs the front of your coat and covers you up, flushing when you laugh at his embarrassment.

“What are you wearing?” he hisses, his eyes wide as saucers. “Why are you wearing it here?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise~”

“It is,” he stammers. “It’s very…it’s so nice.” He opens the coat a little, peeking at what lies beneath, before closing it again, his ears burning. “But…but not here. Maybe at home?”

You give an airy shrug. “Perhaps you can tell Kunikida you weren’t feeling well so you had to go home early?”

Smash cut to Atsushi fake-coughing down the phone to Kunikida. 

Nakahara Chuuya

It's late. Yokohama is a glittering sprawl beneath the windows of Chuuya's plush office. The office is dim, save for the light of his laptop screen and the recessed, moody red lighting of his shelves. He eases away from his emails, rubbing at his eyes, and crosses the room to pour himself a whiskey from the cut glass decanters. 

For Chuuya, 'working late' often involves taking a few heavies and going to threaten someone, not sitting and trawling through emails, but now and then he needs to engage with the corporate bullshit that comes with being an executive. 

The buzz of his personal phone draws his attention. He scoops it up, his thumb tapping the screen. He has his gloves made custom so they work with touchscreens. A text message from you pops open and he grins, leaning against the edge of his desk. 

The image is simple, but evocative. Smooth skin under red lace. He's not even entirely sure which body part it is, but it's tantalising all the same. He's sure he'll find out after your dinner reservation that evening. Steak, of course.

A knock sounds at his office door and he lets out an annoyed grunt, immediately locking his phone and laying it facedown on his desk. 

"Yeah, come in."

His annoyance evaporates the moment you saunter in, all high heels and cinched black trenchcoat. And damn, is that red lipstick? It is. 

"Hey, doll. Whatcha doin' here?" 

He's running his gaze over that trenchcoat, trying to imagine what you're wearing underneath. His smile widens into a full-blown grin when you turn and lock the door behind you. 

"Don't know where this is comin' from, but I like where it's goin'."

You make a show of it, untying the knot on the belt, letting the smooth fabric rasp as it slides against itself. First baring one shoulder, then the next, shimmying the coat off you like its a fur stole. It crumples to the ground, leaving you in all your glory.

Chuuya drags a hand down his face, letting out a low, ragged laugh that sounds just this side of feral.

"Fuck, dollface..."

Bro launches himself at you, pushing you up against the back of his office door. His gloved hands slide over your bare skin, gravity starting to make less and less of an impression on you as he floats you. His mouth crushes against yours. 

Unfortunately, you miss your dinner reservation by several hours. 

[starogeorgina]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐧

Warnings: Smut, swearing, mentions of blood, incest

Pairing: Cregan Stark × reader, Aemond Targaryen × reader

1.04

“Many in my line have been dragon riders; very few among us have been dreamers like Aegon the Conqueror.”

The sound of snow being crushed under Lord Stark’s boots is much heavier; he has remained mainly silently as you walked towards the godswoods. Your grandsire had told men from the north they were not ones for long conversation, but then again, Otto Hightower has been wrong about many things.

“He saw them, the threat in the north, in his dream.”

Lord Stark slows his steps, “How do you know this to be true?”

“Aegon's conquest was not an act of pure ambition. The conquerors goal was to unite all the kingdoms so they might survive the long night. How much faith do you have in prophecy’s my lord?”

“Since the days of the First Men, we have stood as guardians against the cold and the dark. I know what danger lies beyond the wall.”

The closer Vermithor got to Castle Black, the more could the emptiness, that vast darkness surrounding it. The wind screamed in your ears, telling you to go back, to flee, but you could not retreat. Not when you needed to see the darkness. A cold sweat trickles down your back, and you suddenly feel overwhelmed, you away on your feet.

Lord Stark grabs your arm with his gloved hands to keep you steady. “Princess, are you okay? Should you return indoors?”

“I’m fine, my lord; I’m just—not used to the cold.”

He looks unconvinced, but let’s go of your arm. His first name was lingering on the tip of your tongue, but as there were others around, although at a distance, you thought it best to remain formal.

“They are inhuman, elegant, dangerous, and beautiful. The white shadow’s blood is pale blue; they are tall and gaunt. Their eyes burning like ice. Flesh pale as fresh milk.”

You stand on the edge of the pond across from the Weirwood and feel a coldness creeping on the back of your neck, but it disappears when you feel the warmth of Cregan’s breath. “Is the white shadow what they are known as in the south?”

“No, only myself and my sisters know of the threat.” Both you and Helaena had learnt of the prophecy through visions, and your father had told Rhaenyra. “The threat will go by many names: the others, white walkers, white shadows. Some will even refer to them as the cold gods.”

“You have fire in your words, princess, but a prophecy alone cannot be the only reason you came to Winterfell. And it wasn’t to sway which side the North would fight for.”

“There has never lived a Stark that broke their oath; it would have been foolish of me to even ask,” you smile. “The dragons are the last magic of Old Valyria, and they are scared. I believe the looming war between my family will be the last of them; the magic will die out, and then death from beyond the wall will spread and consume all of Westeros.”

“You believe the Targaryens will fight along with the night's watch when the time comes.”

“There is no doubt the north produces the fiercest fighters, my Lord, but a man cannot kill the dead alone. The white shadow fears what can destroy it.”

He swallows thickly, “fire.”

“My father owned a Valyrian steel blade with the words, ‘My blood come the Prince that was promised, and his will be the song of ice and fire.’ The dagger now belongs to my brother, but it should have gone to Rhaenyra. The prince that was promised will come from her line.”

You remove your gloves and place your palm firmly against the bark of the Weirwood tree, feeling the cold against your skin. Closing your eyes, you hear Helaena’s voice in the distance, but it’s not you she's speaking directly to.

“There is warmth beneath all that ice.”

“Ah!”

Opening your eyes, you look down and notice blood falling onto the snow; something had sliced through his thick leather gloves and cut his hand. “What happened?” You apply pressure to the cut with your own hand. “Shall I get a maester?”

Before he can answer, the sound of wings flapping alerts you to a dragon flying nearby. Vermithor and Silverwing fly lower than not casting a shadow over where you stand. Cregan takes a step closer to you and tilts his head down; he kisses you tenderly on the lips.

Seconds pass by, and he’s standing in front of you again, the cut on his hand staining the snow below crimson.

Was the kiss real or a figment of your imagination?

“No, maester. It’s only a small cut.”

You had only known the Lord of Winterfell a few days, but seeing the way his face twists in discomfort makes you want to help. You clear your throat, “then let me clean the cut for you.”

—

The room was silent as you dabbed at the raised skin around the cut on Cregan’s palm with lukewarm water. The wound has stopped bleeding, but you wanted to make sure it was clean. What would your grandsire or mother say learning a princess was attending to Lord Stark in such a way? No doubt the dowager queen would pull a face of disgust, and your grandsire Otto would put a political spin on it. Try to paint you as the image of the mother.

“I thought the cut would have been bigger,” you say quietly.

“Aye, it is small but deep.” He holds up the fang that he picked up in front of the Weirwood tree. “The wolf this came from is larger than my son’s but not yet fully grown. Even as a pup, a wolf's fangs can rip the flesh from a man’s throat.”

“The day will come when they say a Stark will ride into battle on the back of a giant direwolf.”

You look up from the bowl with water and into his eyes, “Thank you.”

“You have a much gentler touch than the maester. I assumed most princesses would swoon at the sight of blood.”

“My brothers used to fight when we were younger, and I would tend to their wounds before our mother would see.” You chuckle, “In his youth, my eldest brother would stub his toe, but would have you believe his entire foot was about to fall off.”

“Not long after Rickon learnt to walk, he went through a phase of screaming seven hells whenever he fell or bumped his head against something, but I soon realized he did it because any lady who saw would rush to coddle him as they do their own children.”

Your heart bleeds for Rickon; no young boy or girl should grow up without a caring mother. You had seen firsthand how Aegon and Aemond turned out spoiled and entitled, with your mother's bitterness rooted deep within them, as did you. Until having a child of your own changed you for the better. “I’ve seen Maitland fall and skin his knees while playing in the gardens of our home countless times; mostly he’ll get up without a fuss, but whenever his father is there, he cries and screams. He only stops when Aemond picks him."

The thought saddens you. Aemond would pick your son up and immediately place him in your arms, because to him it was a woman’s job to deal with whatever woes a child may have.

“Growing up, I was taught that a mother's love was the fiercest of all.”

Your heart flutters. You didn’t like the way Cregan was unintentionally making you feel so... safe. You drop the cloth into the water, which is now tinted red, and go stand by the fireplace.

“Is something wrong, princess?”

Pressing a hand on the wall above the fireplace, you stare down at the flames and shake your head. It was wrong; a man you barely knew should not make you feel more at ease than your own husband.

The chair he was sitting in makes a scraping noise as Cregan stands. “Have I offended you, princess?”

“No, forgive me. I’m just—in my own head.” You turn your head to look at him and are surprised to see the look of concern on his face. “As you said before, a prophecy isn’t the only reason I came here. I wanted to know what it was like to be free.”

“Free?”

“My mother told me women cannot rule, only guide the men that do, which led me to believe I was to make a window in the wall of my own prison. I’ve spent my life so far in the service to men, my father, grandsire, husband, and now Aegon.”

“What is it you desire?”

“To take my son and go somewhere where the name Targaryen means nothing, where the people aren’t scared of our dragons.”

The Lord now stands only a foot in front of you, “princess.”

“Hm?”

“Northerns aren’t scared of dragons.”

No more words needed to be said. Cregan takes a step forward and touches your chin with his rough fingers and gently tilts your face upwards so his lips are mere inches from yours.

You opened your mouth to say something, but no noise came out. Cregan presses his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss.

Resting his forehead against yours, he asks, “Should I stop?”

“No,” you whisper. “Kiss me again.”

He kisses you again, but this time it’s full of urgency. Was it dishonorable? Yes, but the feeling of his mouth on yours was amazing. Addicting. When Cregan’s lips move to the side of your neck, the need to touch more of him becomes too much, and your fingers fumble as you untie the thick fur covering his shoulders and back.

He kissed below your ear, then quietly said, “You are a rare beauty.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch Cregan kneel in front of you. Putting his hands under your skirts, his palms glide up your thighs until they reach the top of your tights, and he pulls them down. You remain frozen in place, feeling his breath warm against your core; his stubble rubs against your skin as he plants gentle kisses above your womb.

“Wha—oh, gods.”

You barely manage to cover your mouth in time to muffle the moan that escapes it as Cregan uses his tongue on you in a way Aemond never has.

“Oh,” you use one hand to keep your skirts up and the other pressed against the wall. If it wasn’t for Cregan’s strong grip on your thighs, you would have lost your balance. “Gods, gods!”

Your eyes roll back, feeling the flat of his tongue against your clit. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak. Your legs shaking around his head as you scream Cregan’s name. You drop your skirts when he stands again; your eyes linger on his lips, fascinated by the way your arousal is smeared across them.

He’s so close, your breaths mingle in the air. “Princess,” he brushes his nose against yours. “My dragon princess—”

You grab hold of the waistband of his breeches and start pushing him backwards until his legs hit the chair facing the fireplace. Cregan smirks when you pull his breeches down low enough for his cock to spring free, then push him backwards. Lifting your skirts, you straddle his thighs and sink down onto his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You set a slow pace at first, rocking your hips until you get used to the stinging sensation of him stretching you out.

Cregan brings one hand up to cup your breast, “You are so perfect, so beautiful.”

You begin rocking your hips faster the more praise falls from his mouth. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you lean forward and press your lips against his.

You'll pray for forgiveness in the morrow, but for now you wanted nothing more than Cregan.

[mocha-illustrates]

[ID: A digital reference sheet of a Sea Butterfly-themed mer design for Sun, containing various poses. In the top left is a full-body drawing of Sea Butterfly!Sun. He has a big smile with a tooth gap, red cheeks, white eyes, and orange tentacles that mimic sun rays around his head. His body is mainly blue and translucent, and his chest, arms, and tail glow yellow and orange. He has his arms spread out, showing off his blue, translucent wings and fins. To his left is another full-bodied drawing of Sun, this time from a side view. He is swimming horizontally to the right with his left arm reaching forward. In the right corner is a small reference photo of a sea butterfly on a black background. Underneath all of that is a drawing of Sun being cradled in a pair of light gray hands. He is hunched over, facing slightly left and looking up at someone off-frame. He has a nervous expression and he has his hands up, seemingly in protest. To the right of him is a speech bubble that reads, “F-Friend… You shouldn’t go swimming after dark.” The background is a light gray. END ID.]

kicks down the door and slams this on the table

woe, sea butterfly sun be upon ye

[samwinchesterswifu]

Million Dollar Baby (Castiel x Reader) Smut

Song Inspo: "Million Dollar Baby" by Tommy Richman

Warnings: grace!kink

MINORS DNI

A/N: I wanted to write more into it, but felt like i havent been able to write full blow p in v type smut, so i am sorrry for the cocktease. But let me know if you want the full version <3

Word Count: 1140

Summary: On a hunt with the boys and the angel she's infatuated with, what could possibly happen?

She shifts awkwardly on her heels while adjusting the length of the tight red dress she was wearing. Dean chose her and Cas as the primary subjects to try to lure in a Witch that was causing havoc with some love spell. The two of them where supposed to go to a club that the Witch frequented under suggestion of Crowley. She couldn’t imagine Castiel all dressed up. Having an infatuation of the angel was hard enough to keep a secret, just picturing him in a proper suit had her mind buzzing. But that thought was interrupted by a loud knock on the bathroom door of the crappy motel they were in for the week.

“Hurry up Y/N!” Dean yelled.

“Alright!” She yelled back in response.

Heat was already rising to her cheeks due to the nerves. She turns to the door and grabs the door knob. Taking a deep breath, she opens up the door to find Castiel entering the motel room with Sam on his trail and shit eating grin plastered to his face.

Both of them stopped in their tracks at the sight of each other. A low whistle is heard from Dean.

“Damn Y/N I didn’t know you cleaned up like that.” She could feel Dean undress her with his eyes and she shoots him a glare before turning her attention back to Castiel.

Sam leaned up against the door of the motel, with arms crossed he seemed pleased by her reaction. When Sam had offered to help Castiel get “cleaned up” this wasn’t what she had imagined.

Castiel had black pleated dress pants on, accompanied by a midnight blue knitted polo short-sleeved shirt with some buttons undone. The shortened sleeves seemed to show off some muscle she didn’t even know he had. He was also wearing a simple chain necklace, and presumably a watch. All pulled together with a leather jacket.

The two of them eyed each other up and down before a cough came from Deans direction.

“Well, we should get going, we need to get there before dark to set up surveillance.” Dean says, grabbing the keys to the Impala and ushering the two to the car.

They each sit in the backseat while the boys sat up front. As they journeyed towards the venue, she would steal glances of the angel in the reared view mirror. Not realizing he was doing the same thing.

Finally, after what seemed forever in an awkward silenced car, they arrive at the scene.

“Okay, remember the plan, you two on the dance floor, we’ll try to catch the Witch before anything happens, got it?” Dean asks.

She nods in agreeance and anxiously exits the car. Going around to Castiel’s side of the Impala and forcefully grabs his hand and leads him into the place. Once inside, she makes a beeline towards the bar. Ordering a shot for both her and Castiel.

“Y/N you know I don’t get drunk,” the angel besides her comments.

“I know but if we want this to look believable then I need you to drink something for the time being.” She sighs, taking her shot and asking for another round for the two of them.

This was also mainly an excuse to try to help calm her nerves. It wasn’t the fear of the Witch planting some dangerous love spell on them, it was that she was already so hot and bothered by him and the way that he cleaned up.

After a 3rd round of shots, she felt a small buzz and felt ready to hit the dance floor while Castiel presumably looked unbothered. Grabbing his hand again, she leads him towards the center of the dance floor. As a few different songs came on, she tried to dance around Castiel. Not really knowing what to do, but more so moving along with the beat.

That was until a newer song came on. Castiel had twirled her out, and brought her back in at the beginning of the song. Placing her back flushed against his chest and the two of them moved comorbidly to the beat. Castiel’s head dipped to her shoulder and his breath was hot on her neck. Closing her eyes, she squirmed against him trying to create some form of friction. Both of Castiel’s hands where placed on her hips helping control her movement. But a third form of heat began to climb down her chest and a squeezing sensation was felt on her breasts. Her eyes shot open, looking down to find nothing there. She looks up to Castiel to see his eyes shining blue. This man was using his grace on her. She could feel the grace began to move down her body. Making her breath hitch, how ballsy could this man be?

Castiel appeared to have a new founded confidence because he seemed more cocky then ever. He didn’t need sex pollen, or a sex spell, the man was drunk off her alone. Getting loss in the moment, her breath hitched as the grace came over her core. As the anticipation built, Castiel stopped. He grabbed onto her hand, and twirled her back out. But as he was pulling in, he made sure that they were facing each other. His eyes still shimmered a bright blue tone different than his normal.

“Castiel?” She whispers his name in confusion.

“Motel, now.” Castiel responded through gritted teeth.  

Nodding in response, they were gone in a moment. Poofing back into the motel room instantly, she realized that Cas had teleported them there. Her phone began to ring off the hook assumingly it was Dean or Sam calling to see what happened. But she didn’t have a care in the world. She was ready to worship the man in front of her. Cas grabs tightly on her hips looking at her eyes and down to her lips.

“Do you have any idea how much you drove me crazy in there? I’ve never felt this way towards a human,” he says walking her back up against the bed. The back of her knees flushed against the bed frame.

Cas’s head drop to her neck and attaches his lips to the skin. Kissing up and down nibbling softly along the way. Breathy moans of pleasure leaves her lips as her head dips back. The warm feeling of grace making its return on her body made her feel even more drunk than she could be on a Saturday night. Cas takes a moment away from attacking her neck to look her dead in the eyes.

“I need permission love, I need you, so please, let me show you what a man can’t do that I can do, all for you,” he whispers sultrily.

“Please Castiel,” she breathes out.

Castiel eyes deepen as a smile forms across his face.

“Anything for you love.”

[devildomresidentt]

How would they dress?

Older Bros Edition

Lucifer

Dark colors ~ Mainly Reds, Blues, and Blacks

You’ll never see him without some type of jewelry

Took inspiration from Victorian Goth Fashion after seeing it in a few Devildom Magazines and Newspapers Diavolo gave him to read and catch up on soon after he fell

Despite being a demon, he still tries to incorporate Crosses into his outfits.

Mammon

Dark and Light colors ~ Mainly Whites & Blacks

Always wearing some type of designer piece that no one knows how or where in HELL he could afford

Frequently Sags because he thinks it looks cool (Lucifer always nags and gets on his head for it damn that old fart)

Takes inspo from Hood and Street Fashion after he fell, but sometimes he’ll dress more on the y2k side

Leviathan

Mainly light colors ~ Whites, Light blues, and Grays

4 words, GRAPHIC TEES AND HOODIES

Always carrying some type of crossbody or Ita-Bag, he can’t leave the house without some type of hand held game to fiddle with throughout the day

Lowkey insecure about his physique/body so he always covers up with baggy/oversized clothes, but with the right about of hyping him up before leaving the house he might put on a slightly tight tank top

Inspired by Japanese street fashion + some of the outfits He’s seen in a few of his favorite slice of life animes

[elmushterri]

Omg I just read the ao3 of gunntech I love it sm🤍 and I'm so glad the speedy twins are in the au. But now I'm curious about it, is taking care of and repairing the vehicles their only job or do they also do other things? And since their also teens did they grow up at gunntech like the others? Or are they just, like, illegal aliens gunntech kidnapped somehow😭😅 and, if u can, I really wanna know what they look like here (I wanna make fanart of them)

The speedy twins are a bit hard to decide about, buuut, I’m thinking they’re normal human kids who were mutated without the use of a chest implant, rather a different trial (happening at the same time as the main heroes and villains, if a little later/so they’re a bit younger?) that involved just changing the genes by themselves without an activation switch needed. The way I pseudo-sciency nonsense it is:

In biology, (A-Level Qualifications) when you’re editing genes, to see if the ones you wanted are activated, scientists attach a marker. Commonly, this marker is a glow-in-the-dark gene they got from a sea creature. So, once, they were modifying rats with something and to see if it worked, they attached the glow in the dark gene TO it. If the gene they wanted got activated, the rats would glow AS WELL. Just visual confirmation basically.

So, to see if adding ‘speed’ to these children would work, they used the marker of the colour blue. Bright blue is GunnTech’s “speed” colour, as can be seen with Catboy (though that’s just his suit, it’s an aesthetic thing)

And that’s why they’re blue! To show “The ‘Speed genes’ worked.”

The red is just face paint and the black and pink hair is dye.

And as for their jobs, I think they’re mainly in the driving field. The main 3 can each drive their own vehicles, as you see in the fanfic, Owlette is adept at Air Traffic Control Communication, but Carly and Cartoka are probably somehow neurologically enhanced to take to vehicles like nobody in the world. Fast learners, no pun intended!

[konigsblog]

alright Orla i want you to walk with me:

Konig who has hair the color or ginger root. maybe a bit darker. do you see the vision mrs. konigsblog

könig face headcannons

(i've talked about my headcannons for könig's face before, but i can't stop adding more. (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠))

absolutely, i've headcannoned him to be ginger before (he absolutely would, fight me on this hill.)

he'd wear rectangular glasses, with a thin frame. he really only needs them for reading, but he wears them 24/7 regardless, since he spends the majority of his day with his head in a new book.

he has a roman/greek nose. his skin is scarred, a thin and light scar over his bottom lip, dragging down his chin slightly. his skin is freckled and pale, with neutral undertones. he wears mainly dark navy blues and black sweatshirts/jumpers.

könig's eyes are sleepy, he always looks like a sad puppy unless he's frustrated or out on deployment. his appearance makes him appear pathetic, but he's not pathetic or submissive in the slightest, really (unless it's you, he's pathetic and depraved for you.)

@99pm-e has a perfect face headcannon for könig, it's exactly how i view him -- definitely go check it out here and here! (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)