#he STINKS he smells like old god >:(

[necroarchy]

@xaaxas sent: "I feel nothing but disgust for children of this world's FALSE masters. All the same, you have my eternal favor for degrading that bloated beast Sindragosa further by turning her to your thrall. I hope it STUNG Malygos when he came to learn of it."

“ SILENCE, YOU WRETCHED BEAST. ”

WAS THERE ANYTHING MORE NAUSEATING THAN AN OOZING PUSTULE not chained and bound deep beneath the earth!? The bellows of its magma heart pounded a headache into Arthas’ skull --- he wasn’t sure he’d ever escape its disgusting drumbeat, even after SILENCING IT FOREVERMORE! 

Hardly enough a creature to consider reanimation. Kel’Thuzad might enjoy the challenge of separating flesh from ferrum --- but Arthas would find pleasure enough in tearing the thing apart PLATE BY SHRIEKING PLATE. 

“ There is little I wish from you, praise least of all --- less than worthless from a machine too stupid to cast the yoke of a few festering old parasites. If I sought the ignorant’s opinions on my Frost Queen, I would PICK THEM FROM HER TEETH. ”

[wizzdot]

*short fic alert* (fic under page break)

Hear me out. Is this….John Price?!

The 141 get home late from a mission, Johnny and Gaz go straight to the showers and Simon slinks off to wherever it is he winds down after a tough few days.

You have been sat on the proverbial bench for the past few weeks with a bullet wound to the shoulder. While rendered useless to the team, you decide to take up a new hobby. So far, the boys have been lab rats for the taste tests of whatever concoction you pull from the oven.

The burnt cookies (that you’d forgotten to put eggs in) that Kyle had whined about almost breaking his perfect teeth. Johnny managed to gobble them up and didn’t seem to understand what the problem was, leading Simon to joke that the man had no taste buds.

Or the time you accidentally used Salt instead of Sugar in the Victoria Sponge cake. Kyle subtlety threw his slice in the bin while you weren’t looking making sounds as if he had enjoyed in. Johnny ate it, making it look so delicious that you were getting confident that your baking skills were finally improving. Simon took a slice back to his room and in the privacy of his own bed, took a bite, and immediately spat it down the toilet. “Christ Almighty, that fuckin’ twat really doesn’t have taste buds” he cursed.

You perfect your skills over the next couple of weeks, with Johnny and Kyle remaining endlessly supportive of your new venture. But the entire time, John avoids your baking attempts.

“Need to watch my weight, love”

“Wish I could have a bite, but I’m on a diet, sweetheart”

“Can’t afford to pile on the pounds at my age, Dove”

They are John’s favourite excuses. You won’t admit it, but it makes you sad. You want to make all of your boys happy. Also, he isn’t even that old for gods sake.

Simon knows that the Captain is avoiding your god awful attempts. But even Simon notices that your skills are slowly improving. He keeps sneaking cupcakes and cookies into his room and this past week, especially, they’d been… alright. Well - apart from the horrifically deformed attempt of decorating a cake like Yoda. It looked like a slimy goblin with wonky eyes - but it tasted ok.

So picture this, they get home from a three day long mission. You’d missed your boys. You’d left your most recent cake on the kitchen counter before going to bed. You climb out from your bed when you hear their tired footsteps heading down the hall.

You poke your head out of the door. Johnny and Kyle come over and give you a soft hug. “Christ, you boys stink” you say. “Fuck off” Kyle laughs, before stripping himself of his shirt “gonna hop straight in the shower anyway. See you in the mornin’, yeah?” he asks. I nod and watch as he leaves towards his room.

Johnny stands, watching Kyle retreat. “I smell even worse than him, hen” he says, trying to shove your head into his armpit. You fight him off and shoo him down the hall.

Simon walks past and gives a small nod, “you might want to go and see Price. He made a beeline for the kitchen” he grumbles, continuing on his way casually.

That comment puts you on edge. Is John hurt? Is he looking for you? You quickly slide on your fluffy slippers and shuffle down to the kitchen as quickly as you can.

The scene that greets you is the last thing you expect to see. The Captain, in a wide stance, leaning one hand on the counter, devouring your Cake (the best one you’d baked so far!!!) with just a single fork. He’d polished off at least half of it, showing no signs of slowing down.

You can’t help but giggle at the scene. “Is it good…?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Love. It’s delicious”

The blush that erupts over your cheeks is immense.

“That was supposed to be shared..” you mumble.

“Not in a sharing mood” he says through a mouthful of cake.

“It’s rude to chew with your mouth open, Captain” you joke.

“Teach me some manners then, sweetheart” he teases, stabbing the fork into the top of the remaining quarter of cake before crowding into your personal space.

“Cakes almost as sweet as you” he whispers into your left ear before leaving the kitchen with a smug smile as you stand frozen in place.

“Oh, I’ve forgotten something!” He mentions from down the hall before turning back and snatching the cake box from the counter. He pauses on his way out, pecking you on the cheek and heading to his office as if that was totally normal behaviour.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t stand touching the spot that he’d kissed for half an hour after he’d left.

Your phone interrupts your frozen state. It’s a text from the group chat.

………..

Johnny: “Kyle, d’ya think Cap told her how he feels yet?”

………

Johnny: “c’mon ya cunt, don’t ignore my message. I know your out the shower I can hear you laughin through the wall”

………

Simon’s voice bellows throughout the hallway “wrong fuckin’ chat, you moron” followed by Kyle cackling and Johnny swearing loudly.

You’re still standing in the doorway of the kitchen, in shock, when the door to John’s office opens.

“Guess you saw that, eh?” he asks, sheepishly.

You nod your head, zoning in on a piece of icing on the corner of his mouth. As if on instinct, you reach up and wipe it with your finger, sticking it into your mouth, before freezing again, realising what you’d just done.

Johns eyes follow your finger, hungrily.

“If you wanted to taste it, you could’ve just asked, love”

[wannabeanotter]

Genetics (twink to bear tf)

"Urgh, you know what I fucking hate? Fat men. Like, bears, you know? It's just so gross. I can't believe they don't take care of their bodies"

I fucking hate twinks like this. Just because he's skinny, smooth, pretty, he thinks he's so special? It's just genetics! It's not anyone else's fault their DNA has made them a real man, not like him.

If he thinks it's so fucking easy to be them, why doesn't he try walking a mile in their shoes?

Hmm...

SNAP - a nice, big, pair of work boots (don't mind the smell). Their last owner has soaked then nice and deep in sweat, and the traces of DNA left in them will be just what this twink needs to remodel his life.

I leave them in his bedroom. When he finds them, his curiosity will get the better of him, and as he slips them on his cells will start to squirm and wriggle and edit their genetic code into the perfect pig. His balls swell, pumping more and more testosterone around his body. His muscles thicken and bulge, and a layer of fat coats his stomach. He tries to yelp, but a low, rumbling growl comes out of the new, thick Adam's apple instead. When he clutches it, he feels that his hands are thicker, meatier.

A real man should have thick, sweaty armpit hair too. All that extra testosterone makes you stink, you know? It's intoxicating, and he reaches down and grabs his new, thick cock.

Fuuck, he smells great. At least, he thinks so ;)

But damn bros, I dunno, do you think it's enough? That's not a bear, that's a cub at best

Cuz like, while his old twink genetics had kept his body hair to zero, in a real man, those follicles get turned on everywhere. His back, his hands, especially his ass. He should have after wave of dark hair creeping all over him, up over his shoulders, deep into his crack...

And no one keeps up a gym routine forever. Eventually he'll start skipping, taking cheat days, and those things have consequences, ya know: big consequences. With all this new appetite his body starts to bulge, stretching out at the waist, each can of beer going straight into his new gut. His brain cells rewire - from now on, he's gonna be always hungry, always just wanting to sit on the couch, scratch his balls, and stuff his face like a pig

There, bros, don't you think he's perfect? Of course when he snaps out of it, he's gonna scream, sob, and whinge about his new body, but I'm sure he'll come round eventually. He'll understand how much better it is to have a body like this, to have a set of genetics blessed by the god of pigs

But if not, hey, he can just lose some weight, right? It's so easy

[I hope this one is good! Remember, asks and dms are always open for tf requests or roleplay. Maybe tell me what you'd do to me, or request a visit from the god of pigs]

[henry7931]

Freaky Friday Block Part 2 Max & The Thomas Family

Max:

I’m sitting here trying to do some kind of research on this situation and I don’t even know what to freaking google. I mean I could just type in, “help, I woke in my friend’s dad’s body. Oh and by the way said friend is now his little brother.”

I don’t know, I’ve been listening to Jacob and Conner go back and forth for hours now. And Mr. Thomas is much help either.

I’m just glad my family was out of town so they didn’t have to deal with this whole body swap thing.

The craziest part is that we learned quickly that ‘we’ aren’t the only ones. I think half of the block is going crazy right now from waking up as someone else.

Hell, I saw that college guys a couple houses down walking one of their roommates. He literally swapped bodies with a dog! Nuts right?

I guess I can’t be too mad with Mr. Thomas’s body. Hell, I’m hoping once some of the chaos settles down I can actually enjoy all of this.

Wait a minute, where is Mr. Thomas? He left over an hour ago and said he’s just going to change and come back….

Mr. Thomas

Fuck I’ve been stroking this thing for hours now! I can’t stop!!

I know it’s awful of me especially this being the body of one of my son’s friends… but you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a whole house to myself? Hell, I haven’t been on a date in 10 years.

Ever since my kid’s mother left me after I came out to her I’ve had a hard time finding anyone to date.

But sitting here in this young handsome body… playing with this cock. Oh my god…

I keep trying to head back to my house but I’ve truly lost track of time. I’m just too horny right now.

I wonder… oh here it is! I knew Max was gay, he had Grindr already downloaded.

I take him off of discreet and update his bio: looking, ready to host.

Shit, his parents don’t come back for another week. I can at least enjoy myself at night.

Back at the Thomas’ Home:

Conner:

This is so freaking cool!! Not only did I wake up this morning inside my big brother’s body but now I have his room too!!!

I told him this morning since I have his body, that I get his room. He was so flipping mad about it but I can’t fit in my old bed anymore.

We screamed at each other for a long time. But I ended up picking him up and carrying him in my much smaller body back to my room.

He waited outside the door throwing a tantrum for a bit before giving up. So looks like I won!

Now I have an entire bathroom to myself and I even have my own cellphone (which I’m surprised he didn’t try to get from me.)

Now I think I’m going to take a shower because my new body is stinky!!!

I take off Jacob’s sweat pants he slept in and stopped at his undies.

I wonder what this looks like…

I yank them off and Jacob’s weiner comes floppin out. He has a big bush of hair right above it and weiner is way bigger than mine.

I start playing with it for a few until it gets hard.

I walk into the shower and start rubbing some all over my new muscles down to Jacob’s stinky feet.

Jacob’s feet are always stinky especially after practice. Sometimes they will stink up our entire house.

I weirdly like the smell…

I wash in between his toes and work back up his hairy legs.

I wrap his strong hand around his weiner and started tugging at it.

It felt so good that I couldn’t stop!

I tugged and tugged faster and faster…

I started to get really warm inside…

That’s when I started squirting all over the shower uncontrollably.

I was so out of breath that I laid on the shower floor for a few.

As soon as I could stand back up, I turned off the water and dried off.

I walked over to the mirror and stared at my big brother’s face that I now controlled.

I hope I keep his body forever!

*knock knock*

“Conner it’s me, you have my phone and I want it back,” I hear coming from the door.

I walk over to the door and open it up.

“I don’t think you’re getting this phone. Actually, it’s my phone now. I have this body which was your body. But now it’s mine. So my phone, my room, and now my body. Also, I think it’s best if you call me Jacob for now. Understood little bro?”

Jacob was so angry. He tried to yank the phone out of my hand but I just dangled it over him.

“So close on getting it!”

I jumps for it again and laugh at him.

“Well this has been fun but I’m going to lock my door now.”

I closed the door in his face and went back to his bed.

I pulled my towel off and grabbed one of his dirty socks off of the floor. I laid back on his bed or I should say my bed now— sniffing his dirty sock and gently playing with my new hairy balls.

Max:

So no one else seems to care right now about trying to figure out why we are all in each other’s bodies. So I decided to stop caring as well and just enjoy my new hot daddy body.

Starting with these sexy ass feet! God, I’m already getting hard!

My initial plan was to take a shower and I got as far as stripping down and grabbing a towel.

Unfortunately, I’m so distracted by these feet and Mr. Thomas’s big hairy ballsack.

I eventually get to the shower, still have not jerked off yet.

It’s fun seeing Mr. Thomas hard throbbing cock leaking so bad…

I’ll fondle it for a few and stare down at his feet again.

God I love them!! If we ever switch back I wish there was a way I could take his feet with me. Or at least get some visitation of his lower half.

Hell, this maybe my forever body. I may be Daniel Thomas forever.

I dry off and sit in the steamy bathroom… talking dirty to myself.

I work my way back to his bed jumping on it. I hold his feet up the air again.

I pull the towel off completely and rub his hands all over his hairy butt cheeks down to his hole.

I finally start jerking his dick that’s now throbbing so bad it immediately leaks.

“Mr. Thomas, you’re such a beautiful man. I love the way your cock feels, I love your hairy ass, your big feet, ohhhh… your dick is about to burst!”

“Oh god!!! This feels so goooooddd!!!”

I pull at his hair and start moaning incredibly loud.

“IM CUMMMMINNNNGGGGG FUUUUUUCCCC”

Cum sprays all over me and I’m covered in his cum. I take bit off of his chest and taste it.

“Yum!”

I lay back in his bed naked and grinning knowing that in a few hours I’m going to do it all over again.

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi hello I had brain rot and popped this out! Idk if it’s an incoherent horny ramble or not but SKIDIBOP MM DADA BOOM💥💥🤯🤯🤯

Rating: Explicit

Tags: A/B/O, Alpha!bucky, omega!reader, reader is inhuman and former hydra asset, confessions of love, mating cycles, TW//non-descript sexual assault, horrible self talk, hydra trash party tendencies, Sweet fluffy big boy Buck, breeding kink, marathon sex, pnv!sex, kinda feral ass behavior, scenting n marking

@lovelykhaleesiii @godrakin @borikenlove @ilikeitbetterangsty @connorsui I think I got my Bucky slores all counted out ;)

Feral. - B. Barnes

Bucky was panicking, sour pheromones leaking from his pores. He was an alpha, technically, but would be entering his first rut after years of chemical castration by Hydra. Rendered him beta. Now it was coming up on him, soon— you could smell that much.

Being one of the few omegas around that offered to help him out, your own powers would ease the inevitable roughness of a feral Alpha. Bucky chose you due to your close friendship, both Hydra superpowered assets. You guys could relate to each other. Although you never had to miss a heat, your handler taking full advantage of your needy state.

Bastard.

Bucky had all the signs of rut coming up; aggression, hypersensitivity, appetite, and smelling up the entire room. Stark had banned Buck to his apartment citing, “It fucking stinks, go wear him out for the love of God.” You had grabbed your clothes and favorite nesting blankets to join the brunette soon after.

Subtle cramps made you shift, the fuckers scent alone would send you into a synced heat. He smelled good, like a woodsy smell, a winter’s day, all that sappy nonsense. Bucky grunted, “What if I hurt you? Like bite your mating gland without meaning it?”

You tapped your neck, nail clicking on an invisible collar. Bucky stopped in his tracks, brows furrowing. “They have guards for that. You can lick and scent all you want but no bitesies Barnes.” He groaned, “Thank god for the future, I guess.” Another cramp hit you, hissing involuntarily at the pain.

Blue eyes flicked to you, him coming close to you. He asked gently, “What’s wrong?” You clenched your teeth and gritted out, “You. Going to send me into heat soon so stop fighting it and worrying.” Bucky’s eyes widened and he gulped, coming to terms with the reality of the situation. Fucking his good friend, you, who he had intensely mooned over for a while now.

The brunette nodded and gestured, “Do you need to nest first? I’m just going to, uh, eat a little more.” You rolled your eyes at his obvious stress eating. He was cutely fluffy now from the transition of Romania to the Avengers compound, trying to adjust. Cramp, ow. Grabbing the blankets you mounded and moulded them to your own liking. Bucky’s scent only made it better, you taking a deep inhale.

You cried out as the first real pang of heat hit you, slick gushing forth, sending you into the nest face first— drooling and whining for Bucky. Usually you used suppressants, hating how submissive and fucking stupid you got, the intense emotions brought up old memories. But not this cycle, waiting for Bucky had you back to stupidtown.

Bucky almost snarled in concern, swallowing down his protein bar and crawling onto the bed. You clawed at your clothes, ripping off the top easily. “Buuuck, help, leggings, stupid!,” you managed. The brunette yanked down your legging and underwear, growling, “Don’t call yourself that— fucking hell!”

Oh. There it was. He’d finally hit it. 

Bucky groaned deeply, taking off his clothes haphazardly, you could hear the ripping and tossing while drooling on a blanket, biting down in agony. You whined, “C’mon Alpha, knot, need it, fill my pussy up!” The normal you cringed on in the inside, but Bucky nodded along. He rasped, “Fuck yes, yes, gonna fill my pretty ‘mega up.”

You could almost purr at Barnes referring you as ‘his’.

Buck’s mismatched hands gripped your hips, sliding an impossibly fat cock between your weeping folds. A shiver wracked your spine, mewing and crying his name at the feeling. He rumbled in that Alpha timbre, “Be a good omega and just take it, make it look easy, please.” By the end of the sentence your sweet Bucky had leaked out some. Turning around to gaze at him he slid in your cunt with a grunt, fangs bared and eyes blazing.

Swollen and fucking hot he speared you fully, stretching and overfilling underused pussy. It had been so long since you’d fucked someone and damn you were glad it was him. Your pussy ached and widened around him, gushing profuse slick. Buck groaned and snapped his hips forward, dragging along everything. He let out a strangled moan, “Fuck, dolly, so goddamn tight. Gonna bl-blow fast.”

“Hurry up and fuck me then!”

A rough smack to your ass had you shutting up with a whimper. Bucky jackhammered your pussy, grunting and gasping, poor thing’s dick probably hurting. His hips smacked into your own, a metal hand pushing at the small of your back for a different angle. You wailed, Bucky cursed and pressed his soft belly to your back, chomping and nosing eagerly at the protected mating gland.

He couldn’t get enough of it, moaning and lapping like a baby alpha fucking his first rut toy. Big hands explored your body, one coming down to toy with your oversensitive clit, making you gush further. The closeness and angle had you whimpering, need forcing you to whine, “Oh, Buck, kiss me, please!”

He blinked dumbly at you, lips swollen from mauling your scent glands. You whimpered, emotions immediately jumping to: oh he hates you, used up omega. The alpha frowned and seized forward clumsily, noses mashing together as he kissed you. He still fucked you raggedly, cock swelling and pulling at your walls.

A pink tongue darted out to claim you, Bucky getting the point and tilting his head for better access to your mouth. He moaned desperately, lips driving across yours wet and messy. You threw back an arm to cradle silky-soft brown hair, fucking back onto that thick cock. “Fuuuck, knot me up baby, need it.” Bucky rasped back, “Yeah?”

“Want it, wan’ your knot, feel s’good,” came the resounding whimper.

Bucky kissed you harder, moaning into your mouth as he fucked deeper, more shallow thrusts than anything now, thick fingers pulling at your clit. He growled, “Omega, so tight— mine.” He shoved your hips flush to him, groaning chest deep and guttural as his knot popped and blew inside. You wailed and scrambled around him, that hot cum painting your insides.

Bucky whined deep in his chest, gasping against you, holding squirming hips still as he filled you up. The Alpha lapped and scented you further, murmuring dazedly, “Won’t be able to smell like another alpha again. Never.” His fingers dug into the softness of your hips, locked in now. You panted and shoved your face into the blankets, overwhelmed.

“Jus’ move to the side,” you said quietly. He gently, so very gently, eased the pair of you to the side. The knot pulled a bit, making both of you hiss. Now spooned in the fucked up nest, Bucky seemed to be dozing off, nose shoved into your mating gland, puffing softly. He slung an arm around you, making sure his entire body was plastered to your own.

Some alphas were clingy like that. Not many. Heat abated by Bucky’s knot— your mind inevitably cleared up. Emotions and old thoughts swirled in your brain. Sometimes you’d have to go through heat with a random elite of the world, them getting a present with the inhuman omega. Once you’d been through the humiliation of being used they’d dump you off with your handler, Sitwell.

He made sure to let you know you were nothing but a whore for Hydra. Used to the point where you were nothing but an easy fuck. “No self-respecting alpha would mate you,” he’d tut while inside you. Your chest clenched up, stupid stupid stupid emotions making your eyes burn.

In the same horrid voice as Jasper your mind hissed. Bucky wouldn’t want you. He knew you were easy and used to ruts. You couldn’t wash off the years of filth and scars on your nape. The great Bucky Barnes would get through this first rut and go find a more demure, self-respecting omega. Hot tears pricked at your eyes, chest beginning to heave.

Bucky’s hand came up quickly, cupping your cheek to get a look. His thick brows furrowed at your likely pitiful expression. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Woke me up when ya’ soured, you hurting?” His concerned expression made you cry harder— chest aching for this to never end. The alpha tightened himself to you, a big thumb wiping your tears. His sculpted lips pulled into a frown.

“I-it’s stupid, been a long time for me too, sorry,” you apologized.

He didn’t seem phased, concern wafting off him in waves. The former assassin practically cooed, “Hey now, seriously, what’s wrong? Spit it out baby, I know you better than that.” You stared into dead serious eyes, knowing deep down Buck would win this contest. Mouth gaping in horror you had no clue how to respond.

“C’mon ‘mega, breaking a man’s heart,” he begged soft and sweet.

Turning away from his gaze, Buck’s hand gently pulled you back with a huff. Taking a deep breath you rambled manically, “I stopped my heats after getting out of Hydra. It brings back…stuff. But I wanted to be there for you and I know I’m an easy option and all, I mean being the pass around for whatever need obviously I know how to handle Alphas.” A titanium thumb in your mouth had you rendered mute with a sudden squeak.

His face softened, pheromones swelling and making you feel woozy. Strong fucking Alpha. The anxiety in your chest abated from the scent. He asked, “Do you really think I’d care about your past?” You shrugged lightly, unsure. Blue eyes turned hard, “Give me a list and if they ain’t dead I’ll personally go castrate them.” Bucky took a deep inhale of you again, relaxing some.

“Look at me.”

You peeped nervously.

“When you offered to help I thought my dreams were coming true,” he pecked your temple, “You’re the only one I want, was gonna tough it out if the only girl I care about didn’t volunteer.” You smacked a big shoulder in shock, squeaking, “No- no you’re lying- this is a joke.” Bucky shoved his knot a fraction deeper inside of you, still swollen to hell.

He deadpanned, “Does this seem like a joke to you? I wish the damn thing would deflate so I can fuck your pretty self already. Been lovin’ you for awhile now.”

Whimpering in desire you clenched down involuntarily, Bucky’s eyes rolling back with a groan. He kissed you again, breathlessly laughing, “I thought you’d think I’m too crazy, overweight, and a load of baggage.” Smooching him back you shook your head to declare, “No, no, you’re perfect as is. This is perfect. Don’t want it to end. Love you too.”

“It doesn’t have to, babydoll,” he cooed into your lips.

After confessing one’s feelings, fucking your official Alpha was much more intense. You’d talked it out with him waiting on the knot to deflate, both of you self-conscious balls of anxiety causing the miscommunication. In full, fuck Hydra with a fiery sword.

You’d grown more heat dazed first, losing any touch to speak normally, writhing around. Buck played with your clit until you’d cum two times, chanting his name like a litany. He was goading you on with a smirk the entire time, cocky as hell now, “Yeah, that’s it, squirt for your fuckin’ Alpha.” Or he’d groan in your ear, “Good girlll, yeah, smell so sweet.”

His knot finally went down and now half crazed you rutted back on Bucky’s cock with hoarse shouts, biting into a blanket. He met you eagerly, slapping your ass and talking non-stop. The brunette moaned, “Goddamn baby, fucking ah, sh-shit!” He nudged thick thighs inside your own, using strong hands to pull you onto him. The whole place smelled of sex pheromones.

“Gonna be my big Alpha and breed me up?,” you teased deliriously, not even sure where this came from.

Bucky rumbled deep in his chest, one of those possessive hands pulling you upright to lock around a slim throat. He rasped in your ear, hot breath puffing, “I’ll fuckin’ give you some pups, s’that what you want?” His hips stuttered, cock beginning to swell again as you wailed. Please please please.

“Make you mine for good,” he nipped at the covered mating gland again, “I’d kill anyone who’d take my precious omega away from me, killing anyone who hurt you, mhm.” You turned your head to kiss his swollen lips, hand digging into his hair as the Alpha dug into you. His soft belly fit perfectly into the arch of your back, hips clapping against your slickened cunt and ass. Your brain purred about how big and perfect he was, a good protector.

Bucky begged suddenly, thrusts sloppy and stilted, “Rip th-that collar off, lemme bite, c’mon love— only one I want, make you a mama.” His lips insistently kissed, hands almost frantically grasping you. A bolt of heady arousal spiked up your belly, the need to be claimed and mated taking over. Bucky as yours sealed with his pretty white teeth, you dripped more at the thought.

Pressing the release on the collar you rocketed into a perfect, quiet, blank euphoria at the feeling of Bucky’s teeth piercing your skin. Things felt complete. You sighed in relief, the held on disgust and shame floating away. Coming back to within seconds you snarled and locked onto his pulsing neck, sealing the bite with a lap. Bucky gutturally groaned, knot popping once again, him following you down to the bed.

The pair of you didn’t speak for what felt like an eternity, hoarsely catching breath, living in the moment. Bucky nosed at the now swollen patch on your neck, commenting dopily, “Wonder what Tony’s gonna say when you pop back out with this.” You hummed and squeezed the big arm around your waist.

“He’ll probably stutter for a minute and then act like he knew all along. Steve won’t be surprised.”

Bucky laughed, “He never is.”

His hand splayed out against your stomach, murmuring, “I know you’re on the pill but I meant what I said. Wanna make the ‘mega I love bred up.” You possibly couldn’t get another orgasm out but his gravelly tone and words made you clench. Touching the bond mark you replied, “Wanna make the alpha I love a daddy.”

He groaned, blues rolling up, “Fuck, yes.”

[octuscle]

I’d like to know if you could help me! I want to be a professional open bodybuilder (just like Nick Walker, Derek Lunsford), but, at the same rate my muscles grow, so do my male musk (specifically sweat musk from my armpits and cock) - no shower, deodorant or anything else will clean/cover my strong smell - until the point people around me get dizzy with my musk, start to complain and ask me to leave the places. With more muscles and less body fat, more sweating and musk until it reaches a strong level that people start to avoid me from fear of my muscles and my intense gym musk! Could you help me with that? Thanks a lot!

It's always the same people who are unhappy. You're rich, you've inherited, you don't have to work. You look dazzling, you know the right people, you're always invited to the best parties. And you don't feel like it anymore? You want to change that? Do I have a free hand? Then I'll get started!

You're sitting with a few friends in your favorite bar and tell them about your plan. More out of politeness than anything else, everyone says it sounds very exciting. You loosen your tie knot and undo the top button of your shirt. Phew, that's how you get your breath back. But you still need some fresh air, it's too crowded and stuffy in here. And somehow you don't feel like going back to the sissies. You feel more like going home, maybe doing a few more press-ups and then going to bed. After a few steps, you take a deep breath. And the top button of your shirt is blown off your chest like a projectile. The seams of your suit trousers are dangerously taut.

In the stairwell of the magnificent old building next to the city park where you live, the first seams crack. Thank God you don't meet anyone. By the time you get back to your apartment, your slim-fit tailored suit is in tatters. Somehow you're not even surprised. You tear off what's left of your clothes and stuff everything into the garbage can. Even your underpants no longer fit properly and are thrown away. You go naked to your dressing room and do a few push-ups, then squats, then a round of sit-ups until you're drenched in sweat. You stand in front of the mirror. Yes, you've gone through a growth spurt. And you stink. Sweat and musk. Delicious. But you still take a shower. The towel smells awful after drying off. And you don't feel a bit cleaner.

When you wake up the next morning, your cleaning lady has opened all the windows and is airing out the apartment. When she hears your footsteps on the way to the bathroom, she comes around the corner and is about to ask you where this unpleasant smell is coming from. You almost collide. You are still naked, scratching your hairy balls while still half asleep. Your cleaning lady turns bright red with fright. Then she holds her nose. You smell your armpit and say with a grin, "Excuse me, Maria, I'd better go and have a shower". In the bathroom, the laundry basket smells like a football team's changing room. You jump in the shower, but it doesn't seem to do any good this morning either. Damn, you might as well go to your workout. At least everyone there smells of sweat.

Damn, that was a really good workout. You pose in front of the mirror. Your sweaty tank top on the floor. During the workout you were incredibly focused on the weights, only now do you realize how disgusted the other customers are looking at you

You check your reflection again. Holy shit, you look really good, what's wrong with them all? Probably just jealous. You pick up your tank top from the floor. Somehow it smells a bit. You hold it up to your nose. Yes, it's sweat and musk. Maybe a little intense. You love it. The smell makes your cock hard. The sweat stains on your sweatpants are joined by precum stains. You need to take a shower now. And wank.

When you check out, the receptionist looks at you in disgust. He puts some ointment under his nose and puts on a face mask. He informs you that the studio requires a minimum level of personal hygiene from its customers. Several customers have already complained. He asks you to come showered and with fresh clothes next time.

Yes, you smell bad despite the shower. You walk back home because you don't feel like complaining again on the subway. Normally a pleasant walk. But for one thing, your legs are really exhausted from training. On the other hand, you feel that you easily weigh 20 pounds more than you did yesterday. You look in the mirror of a shop window as you pass by. Fuck, yeah! You see the reflection of a serious amateur bodybuilder.

You're too exhausted to climb the stairs to your apartment. You get into the elevator. Mrs. Spencer from the floor below you shouts for you to hold the elevator and barely slips through the closing door with her daughter. She holds her nose in disgust. And her daughter, perhaps four years old, asks why the big man smells so bad. Phew, the elevator isn't big anyway. Today it feels even narrower.

That was all a few weeks ago now. You left your impressive apartment because the stuffy neighbors were getting on your nerves. The nagging was unbearable. You thought that the cheap apartment building where you were staying temporarily was really just a temporary solution. But there are a lot of guys living here who are like you: fuck the opinions of others, the main thing is that you grow up. Really big! When you walk through the front door, you take a deep breath. It must have smelled something like this in a Neanderthal cave.

Since you've been banned from your hairdresser, you cut your hair yourself. You like it, it looks even more brutal and masculine. Even in your hardcore gym, your stench stands out. But here the other musclemen envy you for it. Hehehe, and there's always someone who will even pay money to press his face into your armpit or suck your cheesy cock. Your life is great!

Pics found @antoinepaul and @maxx-magnum

[guillotine-drop]

Rating POSTAL Dudes by how good they smell:

POSTAL - 9/10: I think his habitual reclusion and distrust of the world would probably mean he’s showering constantly, moreso than any other Dude, especially if he thinks there’s a ‘Hate Plague’ going on. I think he smells basic; very simple routine, just enough to make sure he feels clean, so at most he’ll smell like some generic 3-in-1 body wash and shampoo/conditioner, maybe something slightly nicer just for himself (some decent $15 aftershave for that menthol scent and cooling relief).

POSTAL Redux - 3/10: Exact opposite of his original incarnation, this greasy son of a bitch isn’t scared of shit he just wants to throw explosives at ostriches and parades. Barely showers, constantly stinks of stale sweat, old blood, cheap leather and cheaper cologne, punctuated with the scent of burnt gunpowder. Borderline noxious.

POSTAL 2 - 4/10: Smells just as bad as Redux Dude but gets the edge here because every now and then he goes outside and uses the neighbor’s hose to blast himself. Shockingly uses deodorant, still not enough to be perpetually leather and denim clad in the great state of Arizona. Almost constantly reeks of sweat and has the recognizable yet faint scent of stale piss wafting off of him, accompanied by the scent of even staler crack and pungent fast food. Almost pungent enough to drown the rest out. Almost.

POSTAL 3 - 2/10: If you were to raid the wash cart after a double overtime football game, steal every jockstrap in the place, wring the sweat into a bucket, and then bring it all to a boil, you’d have somewhere in the realm of what a clean P3 Dude smells like. On average, however, this man has managed to combine the overwhelming sensory nightmares of cat piss and cheap spray deodorant into an almost lethal concoction, ONLY made breathable by the strange and overpowering smell of gasoline that seems to seep from his pores. Approach with caution and for the love of god: do not bring bleach or matches near this freak.

POSTAL 4: No Regerts - 5/10: Despite looking like he crawled out of a dumpster after a bad divorce or a fantastic honeymoon, P4 Dude is shockingly passable in terms of being able to stand next to him for a prolonged period without gagging or killing him. Having learned the efficacy of not being encased in leather in the desert, he’s managed to bring his pungency down several notches. Still reeks of sweat most of the time, and the smell of burger grease and pepperoni follows him like a specter of death, but the piss scent stopped clinging on as hard. He’s also upgraded from hose showers with no supplies to sink baths with tiny gas station travel soaps. It’s an improvement, trust me.

Brain Damaged - 2/10: Take a look at his living space in the title screen, then watch the game’s cutscenes. Just soak it all in. Now that you’ve done that, you can understand that his rank ass smells exactly as bad as you might think it does. If it can come out of his body, it’s probably soaking some part of him. If you think any of the clothes on him have been washed, you’re wrong. This man smells like if someone firebombed an outhouse and pissed on it to put it out. The best thing for him would be getting blasted with a firehouse and a box of laundry detergent. Please.

The Other Dude - 1-10/10: Entirely depends on how the BD Dude would imagine he smells depending on the situation.

POOSTALL Dude - 6/10: Despite the name, this one actually smells pretty decent. The clearly larger coat with the rolled sleeves implies some level of understanding about how not to smell like swamp ass and sweat soaked leather, and truthfully, he looks like he bathes semi-regularly, a rarity amongst these guys.

POSTAL Doe - 9/10: I admit fully and entirely to my lack of impartiality to this one, but I’m willing to stand by it even if I lose my Stink Judge License: first of all, sleeveless leather trench coat AND a crop top mean less overheat which means less sweat. Second of all, visually cleaner than pretty much any of the dudes which implies some kind of self care regimen. Third, and most importantly, girlstink counts positive. I will not be turning in my badge or my gun.

Movie Dude - 8/10: This may be controversial, but despite the squalor he lives in and the fact that hems a cuckold and that his life sucks and that he can’t get a job and that he’s a loser- I digress. I think Movie Dude is in the top echelons of Dude Stink solely because I think he’d have a breakdown if he smelled bad. This man uses Dr. Teals. He stinks like a mix of eucalyptus and peppermint. If ever there was a Dude who had a skin routine, he still wouldn’t, but he’d definitely think about it one day. I think by the end he gets an extra point just because he gets a little hotter the more deranged he is. Overall very pleasant but I still wouldn’t give him $4.

John Murray - 2/10: Hasselridge seems to have a very… interesting relationship with what is and isn’t normal, so unsurprisingly, Johnny Boy would probably smell pretty rough. Considering how dingy, run down and shitty everything in that town appears to be, I can’t imagine anyone else is smelling like roses either. Just avoid the entire place, not least of all because of the zombie thing.

Shtopor - 0/10: Bad.

Nottem Portant - 5/10: Despite the misanthropy, dollar store Nathan Explosion thing and the absolutely abysmal gameplay, Mr. Hatred is actually extremely middle of the road on stink. Sure, he doesn’t smell great, but shockingly he washes his ass despite the whole ‘death to humanity’ thing. He does get point deduction for not washing his hair though, grease mop motherfucker.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Hark! I submit an official request for Raphael and someone (dealer’s choice) getting hit with the old Sex Pollen. It could be a trick by Haarlep or a plant/mushroom releasing pollen/spores in Faerûn during one of his visits. I leave circumstances to your brilliant imagination.

I love the sex pollen trope and would love to see you write it :) As always, feel free to make him or both of them as tame or unhinged as you like! Thank you! 💕

❤️

Raph gets pollened ☺️

-

There was a lot of strange stuff to find laying about in the ruins of Moonrise Towers. Most of it caked in dirt, dust, and other unidentifiable substances. The kleptomaniac in Tav had her poking around, putting her mitts on everything before those little tiefling gobshites stripped the place bare.

She was enamoured by something: a big round vial that contained some viscous liquid which, when Tav cleaned the bottle a little, glowed an ominous dark purple. The stopper was wedged too tight to open. It had been fermenting for a long, long time. Tav had discovered the bottle in a box with a decrepit occult codex of some kind and a burned out incense holder. Bizarre findings that warranted further investigation – after she’d raided everything else of value, of course.

“Well, well. Where should I find the mouse but scurrying about in a ruined old attic? Apt.”

“Shit!”

Tav nearly leapt out of her skin. The bottle went flying, shattering on the ground. A thin, noxious violet gas began to seep from its shattered corpse. The smell was pungent, stomach-churning; like rotten eggs and swamp water. Tav coughed and gagged, eyes wet, glaring at the devil who’d startled her so badly. He stood there innocently, unassuming, a single eyebrow raised at her display of drama. So much for finding out what that potion did.

“Do you enjoy getting the jump on people, devil?” She said waspishly, moving further away from the mess. “Gods, that stinks.”

“Sometimes. Mortals are much more likely to agree to certain things when they’re frightened,” Raphael purred. He tilted his head, taking a small whiff of the gas. “Hmm…it smells like peaches to me.”

Peaches, sure. “What do you want?” Tav crossed her arms. Never turn your back on a devil. Especially this one.

“Merely to see why my favourite future client isn’t celebrating with the rest of her merry band,” said Raphael. Tav noticed he was surreptitiously inhaling deeper sniffs of the potion, like a dog that had caught an interesting scent on the wind. He may not have realised he was doing it. “After all, you freed the angel. You struck down the avatar of a God. One would think a hero of such calibre would at least raise a glass or two in victory, no?”

“I don’t like crowds,” muttered Tav, keenly aware he was mocking her. He was always mocking her. Raphael shifted his feet, coming just a bit closer.

“Yes, I know,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I know a lot about you, Tav. I know the kinds of people you used to do business with before the mindflayers took you. I know the kind of work you did. I know where you came from, and where you were going before all of this.”

“What?” Tav stared at him, aghast. A mix of horror and, inexplicably, intrigue squirmed in her belly. How did he know these things? Why did he know these things? Something was off, though. Raphael seemed, for a brief moment, as shocked by his words as she.

“All that is to say…” He adjusted his collar. Loosened it. “Hells. Why is it so damn warm all of a sudden?”

In a crumbling tower, battered by the chilling miasma of the shadow curse, the only warmth came from the Infernal himself. “It’s cold up here,” Tav said slowly. A bead of sweat rolled down Raphael’s temple in contrast. “Are…you okay?”

“What a stupid question,” the devil snapped. He was becoming flustered, a fetching flush spreading across his harsh cheeks and the bridge of his handsome nose. “I must return to the Hells. Goodbye.”

He clicked his fingers, intending to disappear in a burst of hellfire as usual, but nothing happened. A mere sputtering of sparks from his fingertips fluttered and died. Outraged, Raphael clicked them again, harder, as Tav watched with mounting anxiety. No portal opened. The devil went nowhere.

“Foolish little bint,” he snarled at her. Revealed his pointed canines when he sneered. Tav saw his pupils were rapidly expanding, consuming the sweet brown of his human irises. “What was in that bottle you dropped?”

“I don’t know,” Tav bit back. Always aggressive when she felt cornered. “And you’re the reason I dropped it in the first place. Maybe this will teach you to stop needlessly scaring people, though I bloody doubt it.”

“If you don’t watch your tongue when you speak to me, I’ll pluck it out of your filthy mouth,” Raphael threatened, low and throatily. He tugged his collar open completely, revealing his neck and some teasing wisps of chest hair.

“Oh I see, the devil’s feeling a bit poorly so he finally shows his true colours,” crooned Tav. “It’s about time. I was getting tired of your gentleman act, you know.”

“Ah…to have your skin hanging on a hook in my foyer would be such a delight…” Rumbled the devil, almost absently. He began to unfasten the buttons of his jacket.

“What are you doing?!” Barked Tav. He didn’t answer. Tossed his coat aside and moved onto the buttons of his fancy white shirt. It was damp with sweat – and this was when Tav noticed the bulge between Raphael’s legs. His cock, hard and proud, strained in the fabric of his trousers. A hot spike of desire shot through Tav’s body. “Oh, shit…”

The potion must have been some kind of demented aphrodisiac, made potent enough over time that just a few inhales was all it took. It must’ve been pretty strong indeed if Raphael was crumbling under its influence so fast. Except it wasn’t affecting Tav. She could admit – only to herself – that her tingles of arousal looking at Raphael’s big, deft, tawny hands work the small buttons of his clothes, at the glistening, hairy skin of his chest as he opened his shirt, at his puffy dark nipples, at the trail of fuzz going down his soft middle to vanish below his belt, at the outline of his erection, at the wet spot its leaking head made on his trousers…they were on Tav alone. She’d been attracted to the smarmy devil from the start.

Figuring all this out, Tav had one thing to consider as Raphael reached for his belt: what did she do?

Indulge, of course. An opportunity like this only appeared once in a lifetime. A street cat like Tav knew it better than most.

So she bit her lip, breath baited, as Raphael freed his cock and balls, both fat with need. Ogled as he furiously, shamelessly, rubbed his prick, squeezed its swollen sticky dark pink head, his tight scrotum bouncing with the force, staring right at her as he did. Sighed when he came in moments, grunting, cum spilling on the ground, all over his knuckles, everywhere. His expression was stormy, devoid of relief or rapture, his cock refusing to soften.

“It’s not enough,” he hissed even as he milked more cum from himself in oozing pearls that lazily trickled between his glans, teeth bared in frustration. “It’s not enough.”

He looked furious, frantic, frayed, and so, so fuckable.

“Come here, then,” said Tav, distantly aware of how breathy she sounded, “let’s try something else.”

He was on her in a second. A waiting predator pouncing on its prey. Tav could barely gasp before he was swallowing her mouth in harsh, biting kisses, one hand fisting the hair at the back of her head, the other holding her hip with bruising strength. Tav greedily put her hands all over him, yanking his silky too-perfect hair, scratching his slick chest and stomach, crushing handfuls of his pliant backside. He was like a furnace, radiating stifling heat. He smelled like cherries and musky sweat. So human, but for the hint of sulphur he simply couldn’t hide. His tongue tasted like wine and fire when he forced it into her mouth, hungrily licking behind her teeth. He was a man unravelling, so much desire pressed beneath the surface just waiting for an excuse like this to burst free, and Tav wanted to see it all.

“Wretch,” Raphael spat when they broke apart. The ribbons of saliva connecting their lips were tinged red. He’d bitten her bloody. “Invading my thoughts…my dreams…and now my body…”

“Your fault,” Tav retorted, crying out when he jerked her head back, rolling his aching prick against her clothed sex.

“Inside,” he growled, losing coherence, “need to be inside…”

He manhandled her, pushing her onto a nearby broken desk. With one hand, and in one yank, he pulled her trousers and smallclothes down to her ankles. Tav heard fabric rip but couldn’t find the will to care. The eerie, twisted moonlight coming in from jagged cracks in the stone, the cursed lands’ grotesque long shadows – these things stretched and warped Raphael’s silhouette into the monster he truly was. Tav swore she felt claws, fangs, horns, saw the glint of yellow eyes…but he was still a man, driven and desperate, who pried her thighs open and stuffed her full of his cock, who rocked up on the balls of his feet to get as deep inside her cunt as possible.

“Fuck,” she groaned, raking her fingernails down his back. She was wet and willing, but it had been a while, he’d entered her without preamble, and his cock was thick. He was unforgiving, selfish, searching only for his own pleasure. The stretch, the burn, as he used her, fucking her hard, fast, violent, was hideous and exquisite. She clenched her cunt around his cock and he came immediately, snorting into her ear like a rutting bull. Filled her womb with hot liquid release. She could feel it spurting out of his cock with every throb. He had so much to give, and still he didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Much to Tav’s delight.

There would be Hell to pay when this was over.

[wishmaster]

Hi wishmaster, I'm your average kinda nerdy guy (no glasses though, guess that's one stereotype I don't fit) and my roommate is a kind guy but god he stinks and lives like a slob. He rarely showers coming back from the gym or his games and he's always bringing girls round. I've gotten used to it I guess but I know our place stinks, I'm too embarrassed to bring my girlfriend over because of it. I just wish he'd understand why I'm frustrated and would be a bit less of a dumb smelly meathead. I guess I'm not being fair and I should get to understand him more too, but I'm just nothing like him. Ugh I wish we both could understand each other more.

The next morning when you woke up all you could smell was a heavy musk, like your roommates. It was pungent as if if was all over you, but you showered before bed last night.

As you got out of bed you felt heavier, and then the smell hit you again, but the longer you smelled it it seemed the hornier you got as you walked towards the mirror a behemoth of a guy stared back at you. In the face it looked like you but your body was muscled and huge. Fuck you thought what the hell happened, then you remembered the wish you made. You sat down to grab your phone hoping to somehow change back, but instead of your phone you reached fro the day old pizza, fuck you were hungry, this body needed so much fuel.

Chips and soda can were scattered around you, you found yourself shoving them into your mouth, you needed fuel before you could go workout and get bigger, dude. Your clothes and you reeked of sweat and body odor all caked on from your long sessions in the gym, wait no you weren't a jock you were a nerd. The thought of that got you chuckling to yourself, you a stereotypical himbo a nerd?

Suddenly the door to your room flung open and standing there was that stuck up roommate of yours.

Jesus it stinks in here dude, you ever going to clean up in here, how the hell I'm I supposed to get laid with you stinking up this damn place all the time, and when was the last time you bathed?

You get laid, right. You joked never having seen him with a girl, unaware that it was you that had kept him from bringing her over but suddenly things changed, a spark was lit between you two, your musk was winning him over, You two change a bit more before you're suddenly in each other's embrace, you were drawn to one another, as far as the world was concerned you two had always been boyfriends, opposites truly did attract in your case having swapped lives had only made the passion hotter.

Your smell drove him crazy, made him so horny he'd jump you the moment he saw you, you couldn't keep your hands off one another now, your girl friend but a memory as you were his and he yours, your apart became filled with the stench of his mess, sweat and sex

you ripped his clean shirt off and began to suck his perfect nipples, you guy barely left the room after that as you had him becoming as stinky as you, but it was a smell you both grew to love.

[writing-until-i-drop]

What's In A Name? Chapter Two

Meg Harding and Kate Carter were inseparable until their friends died five ago, then she ran to New Orleans to save lives as a paramedic. But when Javi calls on his two oldest friends to help him collect data, counting on their matching natural instincts for tornadoes, Meg goes home for the first time in years. That's where she meets Tyler and the rest of the Wranglers, the YouTube storm chasers her dad likes to watch, and finds herself fitting in more with them than with Storm PAR. Meg only plans to stay for the week but will it be easy to leave when the dust settles?

If a certain cowboy has a say in it, nothing about leaving is going to be easy.

A/N: A failed tornado chase and a long night at the bonfire.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

Welp. That had been a shit show. Kate had panicked before Meg and Javi could get the PAR on the ground, nearly driving off without them. Javi had been frustrated out of the gate but quickly realized just how pale their friend had gotten, the trauma clear in her eyes. Neither of them needed to ask what she had been thinking, it was clear as day that Kate had been reliving the EF-5 that had taken their friends.

Meg had been shaken being so close to a tornado again but she had come to terms with the situation a long time ago thanks both to her line of work as a paramedic and to the views on life and death in her adoptive home of New Orleans. 

By the time they pulled into the shitty motel they’d be staying in for the night, the parking lot was filled with chasers throwing a little party, drinking, smoking, and dancing. There were even a few bonfires going, which Meg was sure the owners of the motel loved. 

“Haven’t we stayed here before?” Javi asked as the trio strolled towards the motel, Meg scrunched her nose, trying to recall if they had stayed at this specific shitty motel before. 

“Yeah, Javi,” Kate chuckled, “We’ve stayed in every motel in Oklahoma.” The three of them laughed, they really had stayed in a lot of motels while chasing storms for Kate and Parveen’s research.

“Remember we used to have Addy check in?” Javi reminisced, “Then later, we’d all sneak into the room just so we could all save ten bucks?” Kate and Meg were nodding along to the memories and Kate slipped her hand into Meg’s intertwining their fingers like old times. “We’d have Addy do it because she just looked-”

“So sweet,” The trio said together, laughing.

“She was also a cover hog, Kate and I would always end up cuddled up together to stay warm.” Kate snorted,

“And Parveen’s snoring?” 

“Oh my god, not even industrial earplugs could block him out,” Javi added and they trailed off into a comfortable silence. “Hey, um, do you guys want to hang out later?” Javi asked and before Meg could agree, Kate was already shaking her head.

“We’re a little tired, Javi,” Kate spoke for the two of them like she always had. It didn’t bother Meg but she also wished that Kate was more open to having some fun after what they had been through that day. “Maybe another night?” Javi’s face fell but he recovered quickly, smiling at them.

“Yeah, alright, goodnight.”

“Night, Jav,” Meg hugged him tight, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Take a shower, you stink,” 

“Yet somehow you still smell fresh as a cow’s ass, Meg,” Javi teased, ruffling her already messy hair. Kate pulled her away from Javi towards their shared room, quietly humming a tune Meg didn’t recognize. “It’s good to have y’all back!”

“I’m not back,” Kate shook her head with a smile. Javi’s eyes landed on Meg who was grinning, shrugging,

“You’ve got a week to convince me, Jav.” That lit his face up like a kid on Christmas.

They were halfway up a set of stairs when Tyler’s voice stopped them.

“City Girl, Louisiana,” The rest of the Wranglers shouted in greeting. Seeing them up close and personal, Meg was reminded not only of her friends but of her family, the chasers who she had grown up around and it made her smile. This was why her dad and the crew liked watching the streams so much, they saw themselves in the Wranglers and now that’s all Meg could see. A fondness grew in her heart for them. “The cells to the west will choke each other out, they said. The one to the east will put on a show.” Boone had a shit-eating grin on his face, obviously drunk as he hung off the side of Tyler’s truck.

“Well, it didn’t throw you off the scent,” Kate bit out with fake amusement.

“Hey, that’s what makes Tyler famous,” Boone gestured to his friend, who flushed at the compliment, turning his attention back to the weather instrument he was fixing.

“On YouTube?” Kate teased sarcastically but Boone was too far gone to get the nuance of the situation.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. We’re on YouTube.” He looked towards the rest of the crew, “We got what? About a million subscribers now?” The Wranglers whooped in excitement.

“Yes, sir,” The one Meg recognized as Lily chimed in, focused on her drone. Ben, the reporter from earlier in the day, came closer with his little notepad.

“Um, Kate and Meg what? In case I mention you in the article I’m writing,” Kate physically pulled away from the situation, trying and failing to look relaxed.

“Um, just Kate’s fine.”

“Starts with an H if that helps, Ben,” Meg gave him a tight smile, unwilling to share her famous surname in a parking lot full of chasers. Ben dutifully noted the information.

“They’re tricky,” Tyler remarked. Boone took over again, leaning dangerously far off of the truck.

“Actually, you made a good call earlier. The other cell looked stronger but the cap never broke.”

“What’s a cap?” Ben looked painfully confused and Meg felt bad for him, being so out of his element. Dexter’s explanation didn’t help much so Meg added in,

“Think of it as a shield in the atmosphere that prevents a tornado from forming.” That’s how Preacher had explained it to her as a kid, she saw the lightbulb go off in Ben’s head as he scribbled it down. “Are you hurt, Ben?” The man touched his temple where there was a bit of dried blood,

“‘Tis but a flesh wound, my dear.” Meg rolled her eyes, dropping her backpack on the ground and hopping the railing, landing deftly on the ground with the Wranglers with her heavy medical bag on her shoulder. 

“Let the professional be the judge of that.” Meg knelt, digging out an alcohol wipe and a few bandages while the conversation flowed around them.

“Where did you guys all meet?” Kate asked, “Did you all study meteorology at U of A?” That got a laugh out of the rowdy group, none of whom had formally studied besides Tyler.

“This is going to burn for a second probably, alright, Sweetie?” Ben winced as she swiped away the dried blood. The wound wasn’t big, already scabbed over, so Meg put a regular bandaid on it, one of the bandaids she kept for kids with a smiling kitten on it. “Right as rain. Anyone else need a checkup?” 

“You a doctor?” Lily asked, both brows raised.

“Nah, just a paramedic but I can fix you up if something’s bothering you.” 

“Well, I hit my bicep on the camper door, I think you should kiss it better,” Dani said with a grin, teasing her. Meg rolled her eyes but happily crossed their set up to the impressively muscular woman. “Right here, Doc.” She flexed, pointing to a perfectly tan spot on her arm.

“I agree with your diagnosis, here,” Meg kissed the woman’s arm, “All better?” 

“Here hurts too,” She pointed at her cheek and Meg obliged. “Thanks, Doc. All better.” 

“I guarantee you, these guys have seen more tornadoes than anyone else on this lot combined.” 

“Not likely,” Meg snorted softly. Dani gave her a questioning look, “Not my first rodeo by a long shot, Sweet Thing.” 

“Really, do tell, Doc,” Meg shook her head, “I ain’t nearly drunk enough to start telling stories.”

“Dexter, get this fine-looking woman a beer,” Meg looked up at Kate who was shaking her head with an easy smile on her face, used to Meg making friends anywhere they went.

“Where are you chasing tomorrow?” Lily asked Kate, who looked like she was going to answer when Tyler interrupted her. Dexter dutifully handed Meg an unopened can of Budweiser.

“Oh no, no, no, not falling for that again. Kate’s from New York, you can’t trust a word she says.” Meg snorted, covering it up with a cough, thanking Dexter for the beer. Tyler must have never heard a New York accent before because Kate’s twang, as much as she tried to hide it, was so clearly southern.

“Well, you can always trust a guy who puts his face on a t-shirt,” Kate snarked with a grin, getting yet another laugh out of the Wranglers. “See you in the room, Mud Bug.” Kate shouldered Meg’s bag and headed up the stairs.

Dani pulled a folding chair out of the van and motioned for Meg to join them, Boone, who had been focused on Kate, joined them after a few seconds.

“You seem like a cool cat, Meg. Don’t tell me you got one of those fancy degrees too,” Meg shook her head, taking a sip of the cold beer with a sigh.

“Just a bachelor's in public health.” 

“So you were sniffing the dirt for fun?” Tyler called down from the top of his truck,

“Said I never studied, doesn’t mean I haven’t been around more twisters than in your wildest dreams,” Meg called back, getting a pat on the shoulder from Dani. “Here, Sweet Thing, my first tattoo,” She pointed to her bicep, where there was a large illustration of a tornado with Dorothy’s sensors flying in it.

“Shit, that’s cool, what’s in it?” 

“Y’all know about Dorothy?” Dexter perked up, spinning around,

“I do!”

“What’s Dorothy?” Ben asked, pen poised over his notebook again. Meg would have to text her mom about this, it would make her coo with laughter imagining her daughter enthralling a group of chasers and a reporter with stories about her and her husband’s old project.

“It revolutionized tornado data,” Dexter spoke excitedly.

“Yep, two Muskogee State PhDs and their team came up with the idea to send sensors up a tornado’s funnel, which recorded real-time data about the tornado. Allowing them to create a better early warning system.” 

“Bill and Jo Harding,” Dexter added, “They’re legends in the field.” Meg had a sneaking suspicion that Dexter would have a heart attack if he ever met her parents. “Can I see it?” He gestured to her arm and she held it out for him. Dexter snapped a photo of it with his phone with Meg’s permission.

“Seeing a twister suck up those sensors is a godly experience,” Meg teased, taking a long drink of her beer as she watched her words sink in.

“You’ve watched Dorothy be deployed?”

“Many times, like I said, not my first rodeo. Kate and Jav’s seen it too once or twice.” Boone’s face soured,

“What are you doing with that crowd anyway? Storm PAR ain’t great company to keep.” Meg filed that information away for a later date, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“I ain’t here to be with them, I’m here for Kate, who’s here to help out an old friend.” Boone seemed satisfied with that answer, 

“Shit, you got a lot of tattoos.” 

“This ain’t even all of them, Boonie Baby,” She realized her mistake as soon as the nickname left her mouth. Lily was the first to round on her,

“You watch our streams?” 

“I’ve seen a few minutes here and there, darlin’, enough to know who y’all are.” Tyler climbed down off of the truck, giving her an appraising look that had Meg turning pink. 

“I was right, Louisiana, you are a tricky one.” Meg rolled her eyes, “What’s so funny?” 

“Not from Louisiana, Arkansas,” Boone chuckled at his friend’s expense, patting him on the shoulder. “Take another guess.” 

“Texas?” 

“Say that again and I’ll slash your tires, Sweetie Pie,” Meg was a proud Sooners fan, her hatred for the Texas Longhorns running deep. Tyler barked out a laugh, shaking his head. 

“An Oklahoma girl then, I should’ve known.” Ben looked confused again, so Meg bailed him out, explaining the college football rivalry. “So, if this isn’t your first rodeo, what was?” 

“You always goin’ around askin’ girls what their first tornadoes were?” Meg teased,

“Only the pretty ones.” Meg’s blush deepened, “So, what was it, Oklahoma?” Meg finished her beer,

“Got anything stronger?” Boone happily fetched her another can, this time it was purple with a high APV rating on the bottom. He perched himself on the edge of the table Lily was working on, Tyler coming to stand at his side.

“My parents loved to chase a storm, any storm, and when I was five we were out to dinner when dad realized something big was about to break. So, they threw me in the car, and off we went. It came down right in front of us, maybe a hundred yards down the road. We were stupid close to an F-3,” 

“EF-3, you mean?” Tyler tried to correct her, eyes widening when she shook her head.

“This was 2001, Sweetie Pie, now hush, I’m telling a story.” 

“Yeah, Ty, hush,” Dani huffed. Meg took great pleasure in Tyler’s blush and the way he looked away from the group to hide it.

“It was beautiful, watching it uproot the trees along the road, eating everything in its path. I tried to get my mom to open up the sunroof so I could climb out and see it better.” 

“You weren’t scared?” Ben asked, writing notes. Meg had never been scared of a tornado in her life, something her parents accused each other of teaching her. Not even after the incident, she respected them and the damage they could do of course.

Mother Nature was not someone she wanted to mess with but she had always just found the storms to be chaotic, wild, and absolutely thrilling. Being scared of dying was another question, one she hadn’t been asked and wasn’t going to answer. Her wrist started to ache and Meg switched the hand holding her drink.

“You know when you see a lion at the zoo? It’s kind of like that, you know it’s a killing machine and could and would rip you to shreds without breaking a sweat but you also can’t help but admire how majestic and beautiful it is.” 

“God, look at his face,” Lily scoffed, looking at Tyler. Meg glanced his way and found him staring back at her with a look she couldn’t read but one of his friends seemed to understand.

“But you’re a paramedic, not a chaser?” Ben prompted, drawing her attention away from the cowboy.

“That’s right, storms are the love of my life but helping people, that’s what I’m good at. But enough about me, who else has some stories? Laissez les bons temps rouler!” 

“Hell yeah!” Boone tapped his can to hers, “I like you!”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @theforevermorereject @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @sinners-98-world @nerdgirljen @candlejuice

Want to join the taglist? Just ask!

[coff-in]

hiiiii coffin how are you!!!

may I request your amazing thoughts on Andrew and Ashley seeing their little sister [reader] using their clothes all (most) of the time?

like Ashley and her share a wardrobe, and their clothes do get mixed from time to time but she goes out of her way to get one of her sisters skirts, or sometimes when she walks out of the shower and it’s cold she gets one of Andrew’s baggy sweaters; and they realize that she now smells like a mixture of her own perfume, Ashley’s and Andrew’s with a hint of cigarette smoke. and as an extra pro, it gives them an ego boost seeing her flaunting around with their clothes!

- Dungeon Anon

notes from coff-in: dungeon, it's so hot where i am... i'm dying :( i'm melting :( i hate the summer... i hope you're faring better than me. jsut finished writing the response: holy hell im craving girlcock now

[fem] reader-insert, transfem andrew snuck her way in here, NSFW, incest

their little sister would look so cute in their clothes!! ashley would complain sometimes if [reader] wears something that she wanted to wear but any other time she's teasing [reader] about it. andrew feels oddly possessive when seeing his baby sister wearing his sweaters. he'd whine about it at first "did you have to wear my sweater?" and "can't you find one of ashley's old jackets to wear?" but he likes seeing her wear his clothes. maybe brushes his fingers against the nape of [reader]'s, excusing it as him fixing the sweater's tag

if we wanna talk about smells then we should look at their beds. sleep in a bed for two or three months without washing it and it'll pick up a scent that is definitely not fresh linen. andrew and ashley would be soo flustered if they saw [reader] sniffing and huffing their smelly sheets and pillows while wearing their clothes. mmm....

this fucking hear where i live would make wearing a black sweater fucking insane. if andrew choose to keep wearing that thing then [reader] would definitely be smelling that big brother scent along with cigarettes and that leyley perfume

codependency is codependent, ashley would fucking LOVE wearing [reader]'s clothes even if it's not exactly her style. it just shows how comfortable they are together that they're able to share clothes so casually, especially stuff like bras and underwear if compatible. andrew doesn't wear clothes that belong to ashley or [reader] since he's significantly taller, but maybe he'd snag a shirt and cuddle with it. maybe use it as a diy nightmare repellent, using the shirt as a pillowcase and pretending that it's his sister. "you smell so good sis..." and "... mngh, you stink... we should bathe together, hm?" and when he starts rutting into the pillow he'd bite on it like it's her collarbone and groan "shh! you gotta be quiet or you'll wale up mom"

transfem andrew would share clothes with ashkey and [reader] tho... wear [reader]'s skirt (that's a little short on her) and one of ashely's low cut long sleeves. do u think andrew has an incest kink or is she just attracted to her sibling/s specifically? just imagining her bending her baby sister [reader] in half in bed and muttering "you're so good for your big sis..." and [reader] lets out a "mommy..." cause andrew raised her and ashley their whole lives. andrew pauses a little and whispers in [reader]'s ear "you want mommy? you want your mommy to take care of you?" GRRR i need I NEED TO fucking EXPLODE " such a good daughter, taking her mommy's load... being such a good girl for m-mommy" WAAHHH I CAN'T I CAN'T (i love women so much ♡)

what if [reader] just got naked to the panties during the summer before bed? it's so fucking hot so she kicks andrew and ashley out of her bed and now they're just staying up all night knowing that their naked little sister is RIGHT THERE, her pretty tits and soft stomach (i gotta write fat/chubby reader one day cause THEYRE SO ME!!) and thick thighs bare for them to see except they can't touch!! how dare god put the most beautiful thing just out of reach... so unfair

i think andrew and ashley would have scent kinks (different intensities) but u lmk how u feel abt that. what kinks do you think they'd have? i wanna hear it, share with me your knowledge

indulge in incest

----

coff-in

[lumitylovepill]

Two Hantengu Hc’s

Headcanons with Lumi because she just had her first finals and now her brain is fried 

Hc #1 

-They stink 

-like…badly 

-They’re demons who don’t take showers of course they’re going to smell like ass 

-How strong the smell is depends on them 

-Sekido: he smells bad, it’s noticeable and he doesn’t gaf 

-Karaku: It’s barely noticeable for him but spend enough time around him and you will smell it 

-Urogi: Don’t get me started on this man, he STINKS 

-Aizetsu: He actually doesn’t smell that bad 

-Zohakuten: …He most definitely stinks…pure fucking ASS like god damn. He more specifically smells like Bo and rotting flesh 

-Urami: He doesn’t come out much so he doesn’t stink like the others 

-Hantengu: after Zohakuten he smells the worst (old man smell 💀) 

Hc #2 

-most of them can’t read or write for shit 

-they don’t necessarily need to know how to read or write 

-Sekido: he can kinda write, but not that well. If you give him a book he won’t even open it. 

-Karaku: He can’t write shit but can read at a first grade level 

-Urogi: No just no. Look at this man and tell me he knows how to hold a pencil 💀💀 

-Aizetsu: He can write small sentences and read at a first grade level too 

-Zohakuten: try to make him write but he’ll just break the pencil because he doesn’t know how to hold it. Don’t give this man a book, he’ll rip it out of frustration. 

-Urami: He won’t even try, can’t read or write 

-Hantengu: Messy handwriting and can read decently 

This is all I could get out, Im never doing this again. And Im not proof reading any of this.

[bnm-girl]

gaz. Kyle? Gaz.

gaz has the biggest dick. mouth in bed. bartender!gaz x fem!reader

tw: name calling, rough sex, creep trying to approach reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

summary: While you came to the club to try and get over a guy, you cant help but notice a certain staff member looking over.

minors dni!

no bcz hdssfvhjkj this man has me in a chokehold rn.

The lights are dim and colorful in the club, and some song is blasting over the speakers. You nurse your fruity cocktail while looking over at the dance floor. You came here to get over your shitbag of a boyfriend, but it seems like it’s going to be more difficult than you thought. A glance around just shows drunk snobs. You look down at your drink, remembering the cute bartender that gave you your drink. Flashbacking to when he slid the drink down the bar like a pro, with a wink, getting a laugh from you.

Your thoughts are interrupted when some dude comes up to you, giving you a tap on the shoulder. You feel a slight moment of hope, hoping you would actuslly find someone at this god forsaken club. But when you turn around, you are met with the sight on a 50 year old drunk, who smells horrible and something dripping down his tank. You instantly scrunch your nose up at the sight (and smell). He grins with a rancid breath and asks “hey sweetcheeks, you wanna have some fun?” Grinning again as you reel away from him. “Sorry sir, i’m having enough as is.” You reply curtly. He stumbles right in front on your face and grabs your arm, “cmongirlll, you don look like your havinggfun, stopp being sucha bitch and letloose some” panick floods your system, not knowing what to do nor respond without escalating the situation.

“sir, would you like a shot? Iss on the house” he looks over at the drunken man, he quickly walks over to him. You look at his nametag, reading ‘Kyle’. The man downs the shot and stumbles off. Kyle walks over to you and says “you alright dear? My god, his breath stinks!”

You laugh, “yes, and thank you so much.. Kyle? for for that.”

He smiles, “just call me gaz. I think i did pretty good eh? To be honest, we usually don’t deal with this many assholes. Let me get you a drink, sorry about that. What would you like?”

You quickly reply, quickly realizing that you did find a guy at the club, just not who you expected. You respond “just giving out drinks to everyone today huh?” His face was all fun and smiles, but his eyes held another feeling.

“nope, only pretty ladies and drunk assholes” his eyes running down your body, but you could barely catch it.

“You flirting with me gaz?”

“Only if you wan’ me to, and you’re in luck, because my shift end just about now” looking at his watch. He leans over the bar, leaning into your ear “So, you flirting with me?” He murmurs, voice just above the blasting speakers.

“So what if i am?” You grin, standing up from your seat.

He walks around the bar so he’s right next to you. He leans down into your face, “is that a yes i’m hearing?”

“yes.”

With hearing your consent, he grabs you by the wrist and leads you to the car. Even when in such a rush, he opens the door. He hops in and starts to drive, hand on your thigh. He is definitely driving above the speed limit, but that’s the least of your worries. As you look around, you notice how nice his car is.

“Gaz, not to be mean, but you’ve got a really nice car for a bartender”

“well love, that might be because i own the club.”

You flush at the pet name, you can’t help but squirm from his hand thats a little too high on your leg. You just hope he doesn’t brush his hand along the wet spot in your panties. You try to play off your evident horniness by responding back, “so this is undercover boss now?”

“if you want it to be, never really tried roleplaying but never say no.”

You flush even more. He knew what you were talking about, but he thought it would be better to tease you. You look at the nice apartment complex he lives in. Wether it be from the alcohol, lust, or anticipation, going up to the apartment was a blur. The snap back to reality is the second the door clicks, his mouth is on yours, teeth clashing and tongues swirling. He nips at your lip, and Gaz is convinced he might bust a nut right then and there.

He pushes you against a wall and rasps, “jump” he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. He sit you down and His hands wander all over, he then grabs the zipper to your dress and pulls it down. He groans, noticing you aren’t wearing a bra. He sucks on your neck, purple and pink blossoming on your neck. He makes his way down to your cunt,

“holy shittt, this has gotta be the prettiest cunt ive ever seen. Such a whore huh? Barely touched you and you’re already soaked through your panties huh?” He grabs the elastic of your underwear and snaps it against your stomach, causing your hips to buck. “Desperate slut.” He thumbs your clit through your underwear, causing you to whine out. He pushes your panties to the side and licks a long stripe up your pussy. You moan out almost instantly, trying to find purchase in grabbing the sheets. He sucks in your clit as you gush around his tounge, he licks it all up with eagerness. He then gets his middle finger and starts to probe at your hole. He pushes his finger in and curls up into that spongy spot. You moan out, the Pleasure becoming overwhelming. “Gaz- im gonna - gonna uh-“

“Come for me darling”

With noises you’ve only ever heard in pornos, you have the most earth shattering orgasmm of your life.

Gaz continues to lick up your juices as he finally, although begrudgingly, pulled away. His mouth was completely soaked in you. His shiny chin and lips were a sight to behold. The look of his blown out eyes and wet face almost got you to come again.

he notices you starting and says “take a picture, it’ll last longer”

He starts to unbutton his vest and shirt, when you start helping him unbuckle his pants. You kissed down his happy trail and noticed the veins leading to his dick.

“such a slut for this cock huh?”

When you finally pull his dick out of his boxers, your mouth starts to water. Long, but more on the thick side, slightly pointing up with a slightly red tip. It has a thick mushroom head and veins running alone the underside. You notice a bead of precum of his tip and kiss it off. He groans with delight.

“answer me pretty girl” he grabs his cock and starts tapping it on the side of your cheeck

“Just put it in you dickwad” you snap, the desperation becoming almost too much

“if you insist” he grins, he aligns his dick with your cunt, getting ready to put it in, but instead of sliding in, he rubs the head of his cock along your pussy. You whine, “please gaz, i need your cock in me”

He grins at your begging, his ego inflating. “As much as i would love to put my dick in your slobbering pussy, this is punishment for calling me a dickwad. Karma sweetie”

he continues to do that for what seems like forever, back an forth. You are so wet just from this that your fluids were dripping down his leg. Finally, with no warning, he shoves his cock into your pussy. You moan out, feeling like the breath has been knocked out from your lungs. His fat mushroom tip slams into your cervix every single time. The feeling of his veins along your walls feels euphoric. You were sure that the neighbors were going to call a noise complaint after this.

He leans forward and holds your back so he can thrust into you further. You wrap your legs around him and claw at his back and neck to find relief from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

He starts blabbering, “fuckk love you feel divine, what this pussy was made for innit? Yer cunts gonna mould to my dick, squeezing so tight gonna pull my dick off, betcha live this eh? Such a good whore, my little pretty slut— fuck”

You moan out, senses going into overdrive when he grabs your legs and slings then over his shoulders. “Gaz, i feel funny, i uh uh uh i feel like im gonna pee” He brings his hand down and rubs circles around your clit. Your back arches as his free hand plays with your boobs. You finally come again, but this time you squirt. You spray your juices all on gaz and you’re moaning so loud you know for a fact the whole building can hear.

He looks down and groans, “fuck yer a squirter huh, such a perfect little cunt, making such a mess on me eh? Betcha wont find anither guy like me” he them grabs your legs and folds you in half, solely focused on his pleasure now.

he continues to thrust into you, but soon later, he groans out “where?”

“in me fuck gaz, put a baby in me please lord”

with a few more thrusts, he leans in, filling you to the hilt, and busts a load in you. He pulls out and watches as his seed drips out of you, he grabs two fingers and pushes in back in.

“cant have you wasting my cum, no? Might be the hottest thing ive every done or seen”

you wake up the next morning in clean sheets and clothes too big, you see a note on the counter that says,

###-###-#### stay for today? Let me take you out on a date :)

-gaz

(lmk if yall wanna taglist)

[perfinn]

the heat that drives the light

aemond targaryen x tyrell!oc

wc: 1.3k

summary: when aemond is betrothed to the elusive heir to highgarden, he finds that no one will tell him anything about her. he sets out to change that

cw: this is sort of a prologue. NOT x reader so dont bother me about it, blind oc, hints of period typical ableism, period typical sexism, aemond is an ass but we'll work at it

masterlist, read on ao3, divider by saradika

It doesn't surprise Aemond that he would be the one in his family saddled with a political marriage. In his own family, there are no women left for him. With Helaena married to Aegon, and Daemon’s daughters betrothed to his nephews, there is little other option. It only makes sense. However, that does not mean he has to like it. Hatred is born of the illogical.

When he was told he would wed the daughter of the Lord of Highgarden, he tried to say no. His mother would not hear it.

“You have denied three suitors already,” Alicent had said to her second son. “Your options are running out. You will marry the Tyrell girl, and that is the end of it.”

“I will not,” Aemond had grumbled. But his mother had not budged, and the engagement was sealed between himself and the only child of the Lord of Highgarden.

No one had told Aemond much about her, except that she was comely and that he would like her. He refused to go into a marriage with a girl he did not know, and the little he had been told was making him suspicious. Why hide her from him? The amount of times he’s heard comely makes him think she is some sort of beast to look upon.

He knows that in marrying her, he’ll be marrying the future Lady of Highgarden. It would be a position most powerful, as he assumes that a Lady’s husband would bear the brunt of the lordship. It makes perfect sense. Part of him is satisfied with the possibility of an ugly wife for the promise of power, but most of him is still just a man. How can anyone expect him to produce an heir with a twisted and ugly wife? He’d need to be blind in the other eye as well.

Cecily Tyrell arrives on a warm day, when the wind turns right so that the Red Keep smells of the flowers in the gardens rather than the stink of the city. He knows that their families mean for them to be kept apart until the ceremony, but he also knows this castle and its secrets better than most. Being forced out of the Keep and into stinking brothels by Aegon was not completely without merit.

He hears from a passing servant which room Lady Cecily will be staying in until the wedding, and pauses a moment to hear them whisper.

“Overlooking the Godswood,” says the young maidservant. Aemond has half a mind to admonish them for gossiping, before he remembers that it may be their job to know where she’s staying. “I hear it is so she can smell it all.”

Smell it all?

Aemond fails to decipher the meaning before he stops listening and leaves to find the girl. Once in the right hallway, he leans close to the doors as he passes them by. He suspects she will not be alone, undoubtedly accompanied by her ladies or a septa, if she's so young– he has not been told of her age either. Is he to be wed to a child? Or, Gods forbid, a wretched old spinster good only for her family's fortune?

He stops when he hears conversation behind one of the doors, hushed by the wood and carried by soft tones. Women, young ones.

The prince does not waste time in knocking. If there is unseemly behaviour, he will catch it, and if not, he does not care to look polite. He opens the heavy door as fluidly as he can manage, some part of him annoyed that his future wife is without the watch of a kingsguard.

The first woman he sees is facing away from him, sitting on an armchair. He can't see much of her but the long chestnut hair that flows down her back, strands pulled back and braided with budding flowers, and her hand which feels along the intricately carved arm of the chair. The second woman he sees is facing him, and she’s standing up in her shock.

It's clear from the look on her face she recognises Aemond, or at least has connected the dots from the way he may have been described to her. The woman facing away from him stiffens, and slowly reaches out to take the other woman’s hand as she too stands from her seat.

Why does she not face me? He wonders. Does she care not for the intruder in her chamber?

“Who is it?” asks the first woman who he assumes is Cecily, voice soft and melodic.

Aemond steps a few paces closer, a frown pulling down his lips.

“You smell of flame and ash, stranger,” says the first woman. Holding the other’s hand tight, she turns. Aemond catches sight of her other hand, now tracing over the embroidered patterns on her dress.

It is a fair reading of his smell, perhaps he ought to have bathed between the dragonpit and here.

“Cecily,” murmurs the second woman, confirming Aemond’s suspicions. “It is him.”

Cecily has turned, and for a moment Aemond cannot understand why she has been kept from him. As he was so heavily promised, she is comely and delicate as they come, a rose made woman. The moment of ignorance passes, and Aemond sees. He sees that she does not.

Though she faces him, Cecily’s eyes look past him– they do not look at all. His betrothed is blind.

Aemond suddenly feels the victim of a cruel folly.

“Him,” Cecily echoes, hand stilling against her dress. A small smile spreads on her lips, and Aemond thinks that no amount of good looks or pretty smiles can make up for the humiliation he has been afforded in their betrothal. “A stranger smelling of smoke and fire, who makes my companion’s voice quiver. I can draw no conclusion but my betrothed.”

Aemond’s eye flickers to the other lady, who looks petrified by his presence whereas Cecily does not seem particularly moved by it. “You’ll forgive my intrusion,” he says after a moment too long. It is rare he finds himself lost for words.

“I may,” she said, pulling the other woman closer. “Flora, help me.”

The other girl, Flora, carefully takes hold of Cecily’s arm, leading her forward with as much confidence as Aemond supposes she can muster.

“I cannot say I expected to meet you like this, my prince,” Cecily says. As she draws nearer, Aemond can see the greyish film over her irises. If he had not known it the moment she faced him, he would see it in her eyes now. “Without an appropriate chaperone. My dear cousin is responsible and will ensure there is no impropriety between us, though.”

Aemond looks to Flora, another Tyrell if Cecily’s words and the roses on her dress are to be believed. Could it not have been her? She is pretty enough, he cares not that she is a mere cousin to the heir. It would be less of a humiliation than being paired with an invalid simply because his own vision is halved.

Cecily and Flora curtsey to him, and he does not hide his displeasure.

“I had no improper intentions, Lady Cecily,” he says, voice clipped. “I only meant to look upon my betrothed before she approaches me at the altar. Our families mean to keep us apart, and I wished to see why.”

Cecily’s smile is still playing at her lips. It would look smug on anyone else, but she manages only to look coy and gentle. “I can imagine you’ve reached a conclusion?”

“Mmm,” hums Aemond, thankful she cannot see his scowl. If Flora tells her of it later, so be it. “Several.”

“‘Tis not a birth defect,” she says after a moment. “If that is your worry.”

Aemond feels his jaw tense, his eye turning to the ground so he is not forced to look at her eyes any longer. He doesn’t know how to articulate what his worry is. He only knows he hates it, and he is trying his hardest not to hate her. It is not working.

Without another word, Aemond turns and leaves the room, not caring that Flora can see the upset rush in his hurried footsteps.

As he goes, he hears Cecily say to her companion, “He has gone? Did he look upset?”

He does not care to hear Flora’s answer.

part ii

[hellfirenacht]

Crit Happens: Session 1

Fic Summary: You are who’s Dustin’s favorite cousin from out of town who is staying with him for the summer. Eddie finds himself jealous as he’s suddenly been pushed aside as Dustin’s favorite dungeon master. When Dustin insists that Eddie join the campaign, you and Eddie quickly butt heads about how Dungeons and Dragons should be played.

Chapter Summary: You arrive in Hawkins and prepare yourself to start your campaign.

5.1k words

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, Rivals to Lovers, rival dungeon masters, eventual smut, satanic panic, advanced dungeons and dragons, Henderson!Reader, Reader is Dustin’s favorite cousin, no use of y/n, reader is not described, smut in later chapters

Master List (0 1)

Session 1: Stronghold and Followers 

June, 1986

The closer you got to Indiana, the worse the heat got. In the passenger seat beside you, there were a half dozen water bottles sitting empty, as well as a few wrappers of the various snacks that you had picked up from gas stations on your long drive into Hawkins. You spent half the drive cursing yourself for not getting the a/c fixed earlier, your usual guys going on vacation right when you decided to suck it up to spend the money. Go figure. 

It was twilight now, and there was a hazy purple over the horizon as you passed the WELCOME TO HAWKINS sign. Your radio turned to static, having lost whatever signal you had found for that last stretch of the drive and you reached out to fiddle with the dial to find something to listen to that was loud enough to drown out the sound of the wind rushing through your rolled down windows. 

KISS blasted through your speakers after a moment of messing around, the tail end of “I Was Made For Loving You” giving you the push you needed to get to the Henderson house. 

The street lights turned on as you pulled into the quiet neighborhood and a sense of nostalgia washed over you. For two weeks a year from the time you were in 2nd grade up until your last few years of high school, you’d spend time here with Dustin and his friends, playing D&D and riding bikes. His mom had always welcomed you like a daughter, even though you weren’t even related by blood, your mom having remarried when you were barely three years old.

You turned down the radio as you picked out the old house and pulled into the driveway. The yellow lights illuminating the house from within were a stark contrast to the fading light in the sky, and you saw a shadow rush past the window. You peeled yourself off the seat, and stepped out of the car, wondering how it was now cooler outside rather than inside. 

Your name was called from the porch and you saw Dustin running at you and pulling you into a hug. You grunted and laughed. 

“Who in the fresh hell are you?!” you demanded as Dustin pulled back. He was so much taller now, and you saw a hint of metal in his mouth that showed that his teeth were finally growing in. His hair was also longer, the spiral curls nearly reaching his shoulders. 

“You smell like fresh hell!” Dustin said, scrunching his nose. 

“Oh, do I?” you asked and wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him into a headlock. “Do I? Do I really stink? Am I breaking the illusion that girls smell like roses and unicorns all the time?” 

“Jesus, get off of me!” Dustin cackled as he pushed you off. 

“That’s not my name, but on Friday you can call me ‘God’.” you smirked, ruffling his hair. “It’s good to see you again. Now help me get my shit out of the car.” 

It didn’t take long for you two to drag your suitcases and duffle bags into the spare room. It was stale, but nothing that a cracked window and a fan couldn’t fix. 

“Are you staying for the summer or are you moving in completely?” Dustin asked, dropping an oversized tupperware of clothes on the carpeted floor with a heavy thunk. 

“Most of this isn’t my stuff. It’s for my job. They decided instead of paying to have things shipped they can just shove all the costumes in with me on my drive up.” you said, pushing the clothes to a corner of the room. 

“Couldn’t it have stayed in the car then?” Dustin asked. 

“No, don’t wanna risk damage in the heat.”

Without the boxes of costumes, your personal belongings added up to one suitcase, two duffle bags, and a backpack. You unzipped one of the bags and went digging through the mess to find your toiletries. You were going to need at least three showers after that drive. 

Dustin hopped on your bed and watched you unpack. “Everyone’s really excited for the campaign.”

“Yeah?” you smiled as you tossed the toiletry bag on the dresser. “I spent an afternoon on those tickets, so they better remember to bring them.” 

“We almost stapled Mikes’ ticket to his character sheet so he wouldn’t lose it.” 

“Good because I worked too damn hard on this campaign for you all to derail it before it even starts.” You said firmly. “There will be consequences if they don’t remember the ticket.” 

Dustin shifted on your bed and he started picking at the pilling on the pillow next to him. “And what happens if someone doesn’t have a ticket?” 

“Nice try kid, I’m not sharing anything with you.” you snorted, shoving your clothes in the dresser.  

“Not even a hint?” 

“Nope, instead I should be giving you false information for being related to me. You’re lucky I don’t automatically give you disadvantage on all of your rolls just for knowing me, you nepo.” Your box of D&D items was pulled out of the duffel and placed on the bed next to him. 

“That’s not fair!” 

“I know, which is why I’m not doing it. Aren’t I such a benevolent dungeon master?” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Now is there an actual game shop here that I can get minis from? Otherwise you guys are gonna be battling old Sorry! pieces and maybe the Monopoly dog if I need a boss figure.” 

“The closest one is a town over.” Dustin sighed. 

“Damn. Well, I’ll make due for the first session.”

“I can ask Mike or Will if they can loan you some figures.” 

“And that’s why you’re my favorite cousin.” 

“I’m your only cousin” 

“Details.” 

The rest of the evening was filled with catching up with Dustin, having dinner and finally taking a cold shower after a long day of driving. You were a long way from home, but at least you were somewhere familiar. 

It was almost midnight when you finally laid down for the night, the radio beside you was quietly playing some jazz station. The clean sheets felt like heaven against your skin, but it was still a different bed than usual. 

You stared at the popcorn ceiling, making up constellations in the bumps as you pushed away thoughts of your old D&D party. How everything imploded, and you had jumped at the opportunity to run away with your tail between your legs the second this job opportunity popped up. 

It’ll be different this time. You told yourself. It’s Dustin and his friends. Just a couple of kids who just want to play a game, just like you.

As the quiet sounds of the radio lulled you off, there was a small voice in the back of your head that whispered. 

‘Everyone’s confused why you want to go, anyway-’

With your new job not starting for another week, that gave you plenty of time to get ready for the first session. With the tickets you had sent out a few weeks ago, you’d also send all your players a rundown of what this campaign would be about, and what you expected of them at the table, as well as any house rules. Ideally, you preferred to talk about all of that in person but you wanted to jump right into the game as fast as possible. 

Maybe the faster you started the game, the more you’d like it again. 

When you originally called to ask if the Henderson’s would be willing to host you for the summer when this opportunity popped up, Dungeons and Dragons was the last thing on your mind. It had been a few months since the night that everything had fallen apart, but the wounds were no less healed. But then Dustin had hopped on the line and had gone on and on about Hellfire Club and how he missed playing with you and how amazing his new dungeon master was. 

You weren’t sure if it was jealousy or spite that made you offer to run a campaign again for the kids. Maybe you missed being the one to run games, maybe you missed the idea of seeing people consistently, maybe you were just insane and were looking to still hurt. But you ran your mouth and spent the next few days in a nest of comics, Bradbury books, and B movies and emerged with a campaign about a haunted carnival to run. 

You threw yourself into planning the campaign, focusing everything solely on work and this. Nothing else mattered other than getting as far away as possible, be it in reality or fantasy. 

Friday night rolled around, and Dustin grumbled as you kicked him out of his own home. Your aunt had book club tonight, and that gave you time to spend the day getting ready for the first session. 

The living room was decorated with streamers and balloons in neon greens and dark purples. Your old boom box was playing a tape of distorted carnival music, amplified by the busted left speaker. The afternoon was spent cooking up hotdogs and popcorn and other assorted carnival foods to stay on theme. 

To top it off, you rummaged through the boxes of costumes that you had brought and pulled out a ringmasters coat and top hat. 

Go big, or go home. 

And you were a long way from home. 

It was just past 7 when you heard the familiar laughter of Dustin and his friends outside as they all pulled up into the driveway on their bikes. You took a deep breath, and straightened your coat out. 

Almost none of the voices you heard outside sounded familiar, except Dustin's and you had to remind yourself that you really hadn’t seen these kids since they were in middle school. Damn, it really had been a long time since you’d been back here. 

You made your way over to the door and opened it with a flourish before they could let themselves in. 

“Welcome gentlemen to the circus of the strange, the sideshow of the sinister and the theater of the bizarre!” You said dramatically, bowing as you ushered them in. You could see that Dustin couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or enjoying you hamming it up in front of Mike, Lucas, and Will. 

“Enter a realm of dark wonders to indulge your wickedest dreams. Or, if you dare, explore the shadows of your most diabolical nightmares.” You continued, leading them into the kitchen where you pointed to the food you had made that day. Your hard work for the day was worth it, just to see how Will and Lucas looked around at the decorations that you had put up for the evening.

“Cast your eyes upon cruel the oddities of nature and behold monstrous creatures from the depths of the abyss. Marvel with awe and dismay at unbelievable death-defying acts that teeter on the very brink of doom. Leave the mundane world behind, for those who visit this festival of phantasms are never the same again... Step this way... there is no turning back!” 

The end of your speech was met with laughter and applause. If Dustin had landed on ‘embarrassed’ with your monologue he decided that being fed was worth the show. 

“You really set all this up this afternoon?” he asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn. 

“In a manner of speaking. I’ve been planning this for weeks, setting up was the easy part.” you explained before turning back to his friends. “Why the fuck are you all the way up there, Will?” 

Will laughed, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Growth spurt about a year ago.” 

“God, you’re all tall now.” you said. “How dare you. You’re supposed to stay exactly the same as you were in my memories. Small and in middle school.” 

“We’re going to be sophomores in the fall.” Mike pointed out. 

“Illegal. Not allowed.” you shook your head. “Try again.” 

Your nerves were calming down now that your party was here and being fed. You had overmade the spread for the night, but that just meant that there’d be leftovers for lunch later. As the five of you caught up in the kitchen, you felt yourself relaxing and excited to start the game. You didn’t have to impress them, they knew what to expect with you as the dungeon master. You’d already told them what you expected for this campaign in your notes that you had sent. 

But there was a part of you that wanted to impress them. The small voice in the back of your head that kept whispering that if you ran this campaign well enough, then maybe- well, you weren’t sure what. It wouldn’t change what happened with your last party, but you’d feel better.

Right?

This wasn’t going to be like before. These were good kids, who wouldn’t bring any drama to the table. 

You were going to be okay. 

Once everyone had their fill, you ushered them to the table, where you had set up the game. 

“Before you take your seats, I’ll need to see your tickets.” you said with a wide grin, putting on your best ringleader's voice. “You do have tickets, correct?”

There was a scramble as the boys pulled out the tickets you had worked so hard on to present them to you. 

Lucas was the first to hand his over and you took it, ripped it in half and handed it back, offering him a seat at the table. It pained you to tear up your work, but the look on their faces was worth it. When he took his seat, you reached into a small bag that you had set in the middle of the table and handed over a small set of brand new dice. 

“Holy shit.” Lucas immediately dumped them out and picked up the D20. The dice were purple and green, a custom job from the only person from your last party that you still talked to. 

“Not bad, huh?” you said, feeling proud of the way he looked at his new prize. “I thought they fit the theme of the game.”

Will was next, followed by Mike. Each ticket was ripped and handed back to the boys and you directed them on where to sit. Each ticket came with a brand new set of dice, and the excitement of seeing the boys with their new toys added a bandaid to your bruised heart. 

Then it was Dustin’s turn. 

You looked at him.

He looked at you. 

You held out your hand. “Ticket, please.” 

Dustin laughed nervously. “So, about that...”

“Dustin, you live here!” you gasped, but your smile only grew wider. “You have no ticket? You lost it?!” Despite your scolding, you were giggling maniacally with glee. ���My money was on Mike for losing his ticket.”

“Hey!”

“I didn’t lose it!” Dustin said defensively, glaring at his friends who were snickering at him. “I just- I might have uh...”

You clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, there is good news and bad news.” you said. “The good news is that you will still be allowed to play, and you will eventually get your set of dice.”

“And the bad news....?”

“All in good time, Dusty.” you said, and pushed him to his seat. “But no new dice for you. Not yet.” 

Dustin groaned as you made your way to your seat. Your dm screen wasn’t anything especially interesting or fancy, just a few folders taped together with a composition notebook filled with notes for your campaign. 

Just as you started to set the scene, Dustin spoke up. “Wait I- I need to use the bathroom.”

Everyone groaned and looked at Dustin.

“Seriously? You couldn’t go five minutes ago?” Lucas asked. 

“I didn’t need to before!” Dustin got up and quickly ran out of the room and you sighed and paused the music, rewinding it to start over. 

You looked at the clock and took a deep breath. This was fine, he had just thrown you off before you could really start. When Dustin got back, you could just start over and be fine. 

As your party talked amongst themselves, you noticed headlights pulling up outside. That was weird, your aunt wasn’t supposed to be back for at least another hour or two. You heard someone walk up to the door and ring the doorbell. 

Well, that couldn’t be Dustin’s mom. She wouldn’t need to knock for her own home. You got up from the table and started towards the door. 

“I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT!!!” Dustin yelled as he barrelled down the hallway to the living room. 

“What...?” You looked at Dustin confused before opening the door.

You turned to see the person who your cousin was staring at like a deer in the headlights, and for a brief moment, your face mirrored his in a rare moment of family resemblance. 

In the backlight of the porch, you swore for three seconds that Van Halen himself had shown up at the Henderson residence. The man on your porch had long wavy hair and a fringe that almost fell into his round doe eyes. The Dio shirt hung loosely over his frame, and the denim vest on top of that made his shoulders look broad and sturdy. 

He was gorgeous.

You blinked and finally realized that you were staring like a creep. 

“Hi....?” You said. “Can I help you...?”

“Eddie!” Dustin said, which was suddenly echoed by your party as everyone suddenly got up from the table to greet this person. 

Eddie... wait, was this...?

“You made it!” Dustin said. 

“Dude, you invited Eddie to play? Why didn’t you say anything?” Will asked. 

“Yes, Dustin, why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, looking at your cousin as you were all but shoved out of the way as the boys invited Eddie in. You could handle adding an extra player, sure, but Dustin hadn’t warned you about inviting anyone at all, let alone his oh so talented dungeon master from school. 

After spending so much time setting everything up, you weren’t feeling thrilled about the wrench in your evening. 

Dustin looked at you sheepishly, and looked between you and Eddie. By his expression, he hadn’t been warned that you were unaware that he was coming either. 

And now, here you were, surrounded by children who all expected you to allow their old dungeon master to play. A dungeon master who, by all accounts, took the rules seriously. 

Eddie, reached into his pocket and pulled out the ticket that you had crafted for Dustin. 

“Hi, I uh, have a ticket.” he said waving it. 

You snatched the ticket out of his hand, a bit harder than you meant to. It wasn’t his fault, but this did annoy you. 

You looked over the ticket, pretending to examine it, as if trying to decide if it was real or not before looking up at him. 

“And who are you?” you asked. 

“Eddie.” he said, crossing his arms and looking you up and down. 

“No.”

“No?”

“Who are you?” you asked again slower, waving the ticket in the same way that he had. 

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you and Eddie, and despite the anxiety roaring in your stomach you held your ground as you sized him up. It would be a lot easier if he wasn’t taller than you and genuinely looked intimidating. You had never seen such intense brown eyes before.

He seemed to understand what you were asking. “My name is Eddie, and I’m a level five bard who heard about a carnival in town that might be stealing souls. I’ve come to take a look for myself.”

Shit. That was a good answer. 

You offered your name and ripped the ticket in half, handing it back to him. For a split second he looked shocked, and then hurt before you stepped aside and motioned to your table. He looked even more like Van Halen when he smiled at you. 

“So, Henderson, you didn’t warn the dungeon master you were adding a new body to the table?” Eddie asked. 

“It slipped my mind.” Dustin said, looking at you nervously. 

“Oh did it?” you asked. Moving behind your flimsy screen. “So you gave away your ticket and invited someone without asking. You must really be wanting your character to be targeted, huh? Go get the guest a chair.” 

Dustin returned a moment later with an extra chair and everyone adjusted themselves to fit around the small table. It was already cramped before, as it wasn’t like Dustin and his mom needed a lot of space, but now it was nearly shoulder to shoulder. 

You made a mental note to try and find a bigger table for games, or maybe a different place to host. All this set up had just been planned for this one session. You didn’t think you’d have the time when you started up with the job. 

Now, with no more distractions you turned the music back on and took a deep breath. Alright, Dustin didn’t have a ticket. You had planned for that, hoped for that even. Having an extra person at the table wasn’t a big deal either, you had people come in and out of games all the time. You breathed out any annoyance you had for the surprise. It wasn’t like it was Eddie’s fault that you hadn’t been warned and he came prepared with a character and a simple back story. 

With all eyes on you, you set the stage for the campaign. You set them all in a small village where everyone, except Dustin, had been sent an invitation to a carnival. It didn’t take long for the party to realize that the tickets were magic and probably a little bit cursed. 

“As agents of the Department of Occult Research, or DOOR, magic like this isn’t new to you.” you explained. 

“So, we’re some sort of government research department?” Eddie asked, fiddling with one of his dice. “Huh, that’s not exactly the usual fantasy setting I’m used to.”

“If Dustin had tried to do you any favors, he would have also given you the notes about what to expect with this game.” you said, shooting Dustin a look. 

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.” Lucas said, looking over at Eddie. “We’ve played with her before.”

“I want to ask around to see if anyone knows anything about this carnival.” Will said before the conversation became more derailed. 

You guided everyone through the town, allowing them to talk to NPCs and gather information about this mysterious carnival. Once darkness had settled over the village, you took your time describing as a fog rolled into the town and the villagers boarded up their windows and doors. 

Those with tickets were able to enter the fairground easily, but Dustin’s character needed to sneak in, and almost died in the process. It was a nice little bit of karma. 

You described the Midway and gave everyone the chance to play games, and unlock the mystery of the carnival. Once you got into the groove of storytelling, you were finally starting to relax. 

Well, until Will wanted to cast a spell. 

You grabbed your notes and flipped through the handbook to look at the spell in question. “Alright, roll for me.” you said. 

Will dropped the dice on the table. “That’s... 17.”

“Modifiers?” 

He shook his head. 

“Perfect, you manage to cast the spell successfully and-”

“Wait, what about the components?” Eddie asked, messing with his D4. 

You looked over your haphazard DM screen. “What about them?”

Eddie didn’t even look at you, choosing to direct his attention to Will, which kind of pissed you off. “Do you have the components for that spell?” He asked. 

You took a deep breath and tried to remind yourself that Dustin hadn’t given him the rundown of your house rules. Still, you weren’t thrilled how he had ignored you to talk to Will. 

“I don’t run the components rule, Eddie.” you said, saying his name a bit louder to get his attention. He looked at you now as you stood up from behind your screen. “Did anyone bring a copy of the notes I sent?”

When no one had, you sighed and flipped through your notebook that was holding every piece of information about your campaign. Wincing internally, you grabbed the pages that you had carefully written out your house rules and ripped the two pages out. 

“Since Dustin did you a disservice and didn’t give you any warning at all about this, here are the rules we’re playing by.” you said, as he took the pages, his eyes scanning your chicken scratch handwriting. He looked confused as he read everything over, but you just wanted to get back to the game. 

The rest of the evening went by as successfully as you could have hoped. You led the party through a house of mirrors where they fought an evil clown and retrieved more clues about the mysterious carnival. It wasn’t everything you had wanted to do with the session, but with how rusty you were, you weren’t going to complain. 

“Alright, and I’m done.” you said after describing how Lucas had taken down the clown, turning it to dust. “We’ll pick this back up next week.” 

You stood up and stretched, as everyone started gathering their things. Looking at the clock, you had a little bit of time to start cleaning up before your aunt got home. Take down decorations, pack up food, do dishes, and go over notes for next week while it was still fresh. Simple. 

“So, are you coming back next week?” you asked Eddie. Despite the minor hiccups, Eddie had been a passionate player, and had no trouble getting into character. There was that minor issue where he seemed to struggle with the idea that these kids were in your party now. You didn’t hold it against him. You just kept reminding yourself that Eddie had been their DM for almost a year, was clearly more experienced than you were, and the kids did have a strong bond with him. You hadn’t been in town for years and were just getting back on your feet. 

It was fine. Not anyone’s fault. 

Maybe Dustin’s. 

“Do I need another ticket?” Eddie asked, grabbing his dice. 

You shook your head with a small smile. “If I gave you one, would you give it to someone else?” you asked, eyeing Dustin who just groaned. 

“If I did, I’d warn you that I was subbing someone in.” Eddie grabbed the top of Dustin’s head and shook it. 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dustin said. “I got caught up in everything and forgot!”

“Don’t worry, one day I’ll forgive you and you’ll earn your shiny new dice set.” you teased. 

Grumbling something under his breath, he and his friends grabbed their things and started packing up their backpacks to head home. 

“The rest of the campaign will probably happen on Wednesdays or Thursdays.” you said, grabbing a piece of scrap paper and jotting down the number to the Henderson home. He might have already had the number, but you had no way to know that. Plus, with you spending the rest of the summer here, you weren’t exactly wanting to spend every moment of your free time hanging out with a group of kids that couldn’t drink or drive. Eddie would at least be an age appropriate friend. 

Okay yeah, and he was really fucking attractive and you wanted to give your number to a cute boy. Could anyone really blame you for that? Sure, there had been some points during the game where you and him and butt heads a little, but you were sure that since he had your house rules it would go smoother next week. 

Eddie took the paper and put it in his jacket pocket. “And should I dress up next week to match?” he asked, glancing up at your hat. 

In all the stress and excitement, you had actually forgotten that you were meeting this person dressed up in a cheap Ring Leader costume that had been made specifically for entertaining the children. Blood rushed to your face and you crossed your arms pretending that you weren’t feeling just a tad bit embarrassed. 

“By all means, dress up.” you said with a shrug. “I’m very generous with my players for being creative. I’m not above giving out inspiration to those who impress me. Or bribe me.”  

You liked the way Eddie grinned at you, and there was a look in his eyes that said that he was up to any challenge you’d throw at him. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“I told you I should have brought my robe and wizard hat!” you heard Will say to Mike. 

“Shut up, it would have been dorky!” Mike responded. 

“Do you two not see what she’s wearing right now? If there was a time for you to let yourself be a dork then it would be with her campaign.” Lucas added with a shake of his head. 

“I can hear you all, you know.” You said loudly. “Keep it up and I’ll start making it personal during the game.”

“Dude, let’s go before we piss her off.” Mike said, practically pushing Will and Lucas out the door, Dustin following behind to see his friends off. 

“I’ll take that as my cue to leave.” Eddie said, offering his hand. “Not bad for a first session.”

“Thanks.” you took his hand, and his handshake was surprisingly strong. He wasn’t trying to crush your hand or anything, but you could feel how firm it was. 

With a promise to call you to find out when the next session would be, Eddie turned and left. You followed out to the porch, watching as his van pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the street. 

Fuck, you were exhausted now. You had forgotten how much mental work went into running the game. You figured you had just enough energy to clean up before passing out and sleeping until noon. 

By the time you finally made it to your bed, you felt braindead. The past few days were catching up to you now. In such a short time you had made the long drive to Hawkins, set up in a new room far from home, realized that the kids you knew were no longer kids, and might have made a new friend. 

That night, your dreams were filled with thoughts of fighting against evil clowns with Eddie Van Halen while Will criticized your battle outfit. 

a/n: I really should be working on the ending to Wing Man, but instead I worked on this lol.

Also, this is Chapter One but there was a prologue posted in the Master List.

No tag list yet but if anyone wants one let me know, or follow the story on AO3.

I'll fix any mistakes in post when I haven't been up since 6 am for work lol

[dairy-farmer]

You know what does get enough love in A/B/O fics? Betas. And they SHOULD!

I flat out REFUSE to believe they are just set dressing for the Grand Highschool TeleNovela Romances of Alphas and Omegas(tm). Because nature doesn't WORK that way!

You know what I think they DO do though? I think they keep the High Octane, High Drama, Hopped Up On Hormones And Lust, effectively drugged half the time, Designated (Offensive)HunterWarrior and (Defensive)NurtureWarrior at BIRTH groups? From killing each other.

Because you can't spell bloodlust with out lust!

Horny brain stupid. Maybe YOU wanna fuck, but if that Omega doesn't wanna fuck? Because they aren't in their Heat and therefore find you, an Alpha, "pushy and obnoxious"? Well... you try to rub up all on that, and they'll rip your dick off.

Or at least TRY too.

Needless to say. Violence. Scaring the pups, destroying infrastructure, nothings getting done today. UNLESS? Someone ELSE steps in and let's Horny Brain Alpha rub up all over their good bits!

And? It's much, MUCH harder to get a Beta pregnant unless you, yourself, are a Beta. They also don't get OMEGAS pregnant that often. Don't have NEARLY as strong a smell, which means they don't leave linger "Stink" all over your space...

Perfect buffers! Every pack needs some Beta! As pups they buffer the two "We have to play X because I SAID SO!" Groups, as teens they distract the two groups from trying to fuck/murder each other, and as adults?

Every healthy Alpha and Omega has at LEAST one Beta or Beta couple they can go too, to calm down with. That they trust. That's THEIRS. Their little Pack. Because Packs can and do have layers!

But why they sociology lesson, you may wonder? Where is the Fucking(tm)?

A good and sexy question! Remember when I said "every HEALTHY Alpha"? Name a single God damn timeline Bruce Wayne has EVER been emotional healthy and well adjusted. The only Beta he has near him is Alfred. His PARENTS Beta.

That's basicly his DAD.

Dick is an Omega. Jason was an Omega. Both of them were crammed in a house with him, with NO buffers and it predictably exploded. Jason DIED and Bruce became unhinged. Is ALFRED supposed to handle that? He's OLD. He can't handle that sort of emotional upheaval!

But Tim can.

Tim is a Beta. He knows their secret. And he refuses to watch Batman spiral any longer. He forces his way in. We know the story. Dick comes back to find a teeny, tiny little Beta. Younger then Jason had been. Loses His Shit.

What are you planning?! This BETTER not be what I think it is! So forth and so on. Accusations thrown. Teeth bared. Omegas PROTECT pups and Betas.

But Tim is ready. Is a machavelian little shit. FLINGS himself at Dick even as he gets in Bruce's face, ready for bloodshed. And? 🥺🥺🥺 He's never had a Big Bwother befoooore! OR been hugged by an Omega! Is it true they give the BEST hugs?

K.O.! Straight to the instincts! Tim is cuddled like a teddybear. It's awful. But he does it for the pack.

When Bruce's Rutt hits? The stubborn bastard wants to GO OUT and FIGHT. Like it's not a recipe for Probably Murdering Somebody. Hmmmph! Oh. What's this? Cough cough. Oh noooo. I appear to be So VERY sick and DEFENSELESS. If only there was a-

He is trapped in a sweaty, shaking, vice grip for hours. As Bruce cuddles him close in the panic room, riding out his rutt. Tim politely pretends to be asleep as Bruce desperately fists himself, face pressed to his hair, scenting him like he'll DIE if Tim does smell every inch like pack.

He doesn't really TOUCH him, but the squirming and lose of control would shut Bruce down completely. So obviously, Tim never noticed.

You know... until he DOES. Hormones hitting like a quite brick. And for his poor A and O classmates? A tactical strike. Good God, they become Messy. And INTERESTED.

So do his teammates.

And Dick? Is NOT having it. Is suddenly EVERYWHERE. Breaking up flirting attempts. Dropping in on hangouts. Picking him up from school. Teeth bared in what only fools would call a smile. He smells... really nice.

And does NOT take Tim back to the Manor. He has a safe house near by. Why?

His heat is about to hit.

And really, there's no WAY Dick trusts those sloppy, messy, greedy little shits to take care off HIS Timmy. Especially not for his first time. Now strip and get in the nest, Tim. :)

And Dick is insatiable. All hot mouth and gentle, stretching fingers. That gives way to more and more. Until Tim is shaking and gushing wet, spots he didn't know EXSISTED being pounded by fingers, as a hot mouth torments his poor clit. An arm like steel, wrapped around him, keeping him from writhing and scrambling away.

His hands desperately twisted in long dark hair as he babbles. Stop? More? He doesn't KNOW! It's so MUCH! A greedy wet mouth kissing up his body. Are they done? Rumbling, soothing noises in his ear. He's all twitchy and sensitive. Done right?

Then Dick pushes IN to him. And it's good but he also feels like he's gonna DIE. How do older Betas DO this?! He doesn't even have a KNOT and it feels like Tim's gonna split in two! But it gets better and better, Dick rocking and kissing, all sorts of nice little touches.

And then Dicks fucking him. Pinning him down to his nest, everything smelling like him, as he rocks and rams DEEP. Body pressed so close Tim can't move. Panting against Tim's neck.

That constant "is he gonna bit me? Is he gonna bite me?" Making everything tingle. Making his skin sensitive and him hyperaware of his body. Of every slide of the cock inside him, the tight grip on his hips, draging him back to meet those desperate thrusts, the hot tounge licking and LICKING.

Teeth. Pressure. Breaking skin.

Cumming so hard he passes out for a bit. Waking up to a full hole, wet and squelching, and the stuttering thrusts of the Omega on top of him as he cums inside him AGAIN. Pumping another load as deep as he can.

By the time the stumble back to the Manor? Bruce is furious. It's been DAYS.

But they dynamic has changed. When Bruce's next Rutt hits? Tim doesn't have to think up some kind of excuse. Bruce, hesitantly, tracks him down. Offers him every sort of out that he doesn't take.

Teaches him how to take an ALPHA.

The knot won't fit. Yet. At least not in front. But he gets stretched and stretched, impaled so DEEP. Bent over a pillow as they move like animals. Bruce fills him with his fingers too. Everything is so FULL. All he can do is drool.

Then it gets BIGGER and he wants to cry. But he's so, so good for Bruce. His little clit rubbed and rubbed to help him adjust. Breathes through it just like he's told. And... and OH.

It's pumping him so gooey and FULL. Gushing and gushing. Bruce's fingers working him deep, making him spasm and milk even MORE into himself.

He loses track of how many times Bruce fills him up and drains him out. When no more will FIT.

And of course! Jason. Told he was replaced by some little alpha shit. Because Tim's parents lied and Talia never bothered to correct that for him. Imagine his confusion.

So he stalks him. Is he pretending? Nope! Catches Dickie Bird fucking the brains out of his little Beta Bird. So GLAD to see their priorities are straight! Got themselves a jailbait Beta and the Joker's still breathing! Fuck those guys!

.......he's gonna steal their "Robin".

So he does the big reveal. Red Hood is Jason Todd. But? He does it a Drake Manor. Tim is thrilled. Little concerned about the murdering thing, but Meh. Tim's flexible. And Jason? Oh he is gonna rock jailbird's WORLD.

He bend him in HALF. Full on mating press. They're still in full costume. And God if he doesn't want to just? Completely drain his balls into that tight hole. It's been MONTHS since he's felt so clear headed and at peace. Nothing but endorphins and warmth. Cute little whimpers and gasps from beneath him.

Gonna fuck him a sloppy ruin then buy him some cheap pizza.

No. No he's gonna buy him some GOOD pizza. Then take him back to the safe house and fuck him AGAIN. No more of this Robin shit. Keep him like a fucked up pet. Take care of him, clean up crime Ally, get revenge on batman. Jason likes that plan.

Unfortunately, Bruce is a paranoid man. And TOTALLY bugged Tim's room. He checks on him.

Has a calm and level headed reaction to seeing a Crime Lord FUCKING HIS BOY.

Predictable Alpha and Omega nonsense follow. But that is highly dramatic Not Fucking. We move on.

You may ask! What of Damian? Alpha. Obviously. He clearly bites, it should not be a suprise. But the Leauge is archaic. Betas are minions. Drones. Why is Drake even HERE? It is BENEATH an Alphas dignity to lay with... THEM.

Tim? Will absolutely fight a pup. Fuck this guy. For once, DICK has to play the buffering force. He's god awful at it.

Damian tries to kill Tim.

Bruce gets lost in Time.

Damian tries to become THE Alpha and banish Tim from the pack.

Dick obviously won't let that absurdity stand, as HE is now the head of the Pack, but gives Robin to Damian and doesn't listen to Tim. Granted, Tim isn't explaining himself well and openly mourning, but still. Dick is under pressure. NEEDS his favorite Beta.

Not out fighting, not doing dangerous Heroic things. Just... just there. Home. Anchoring him and giving someone to take care off. And with Tim so CLEARLY losing his shit? He CLEARLY needs EXTRA and IMMEDIATE Omega Care. It's perfect.

Except it's not.

It goes to shit and Tim disappears. Shows up again, down one spleen and up one Obsessed Immortal. They manage to get Bruce back. But everyone is hurt and recovering.

Damian has gotten better. But he still does not UNDERSTAND. He's told to watch and learn. That it will help. So he follow Dick. To an exhausted Tim's room. Who's bruised, grumpy, and in no mood.

Dick offer to rub on bruise cream.

Tim allows it. Eyes Damian with distrust.

One arm at a time. One leg at a time. Gentle and soothing. Rubbing and rubbing and RUBBING. Across his poor abused stomach. His chest. Tim melts. Dick gently pulling off his clothes. Getting him comfy. Utterly boneless.

Damian watches.

Watches as Dick leans forward. Hands skimming as they trail up and up. Ever so gently spreading. There we go~

Watches as Drake's toes curl. As he jolts in suprise at that first touch, only to melt and spread his legs wider. Shiver, gasp, whine softly. Rocking ever so slightly. Is what Richard doing REALLY so good?

He quietly gets closer. Richard's fingers are skillful. Sliding and rubbing as his tounge works. It overwhelms Dra... Timothy. But why? Why do this?

Then Richard slides up and IN and? Oh. OH.

Even like this, Timothy does not smell overwhelming. It's pleasant. The sounds he makes... The way his body just? Just TAKES it. Submits to an Omega's cock like it is the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it is?

He... he wants...

Timothy has noticed him. Tensed. His past actions have left him unwelcome here. But then Dick is taking his hand, guiding it too the pink and wet between Timothy's legs. A little nub. He was teasing this. Damian can too.

There is an immediate reaction. Damian watches, fascinated, as he helps drive Timothy to incoherence. Shaking, begging, punched out little cries. It takes almost no time at all to figure out how best to rub and pinch, flick and twist.

Richard cums. Damians appalled. Timothy hasn't even-! How can you be so SELFISH?! But before he can work himself into a proper rant, Richard slides out and drags him over, into his lap.

Between him and Timothy.

He is hyper-aware of his hardness. But before he can bluster or make excuses, his pants are opened and Richard is lining him up. Pushing both of them forward. He sinks in to the most magnificent heat he's ever experienced. Slick and wet. "Sloppy seconds" as he's heard them call it. Squelching and thick with Richard's seed.

A powerful arm goes around him. Hips rock rock his. He tries not to drool as the sensations overwhelm him. He's used to fuck Timothy again. Dicks hips snapping forward again and again. As though fucking both of them. He knots for the first time in his LIFE inside that magnificent body.

Clinging to the Beta beneath him and whining as Richard ground his impressive length against his back. They're rolled over. Gently. Ever so gently. Timothy jolting and gasping above him before once again, his body it being rocked by thrusts. Each one, tugging teasingly on Damians knot. Milking him.

Omegas are cruel and relentless, he decides. Gasping for air as he knots again. The first hadn't even gone DOWN fully yet. Richard TRICKED him. He should have taken Timothy and run while they had the chance. But it's too late now.

Richard wants them to "get along". And is taking the chance his Heat provides to arrange it.

And? Well, Tim make a MAGNIFICENT Buffer for the Batfam. 10 out of 10 Beta. Very soothing. Best Heat/Rutt buddy.

This has been, my fic ramble! Thoughts?

-🐼

dick helping and guiding damian with fucking tim 👀👀👀👀!! making sure tim feels good and that damian learns how nice it is to fuck their beta and enjoy him the way they all do 👀👀👀