#he brushed his hair back but its still a mess sobs

[kana7o]

sketch comm for cvvani on twitter!!

tfw you and your boyfriend propose at the same time.....

[leqonsluv3r]

PROMPT 3 WITH LEON I BEG

oh! darling

prompt: "please don't stop.”

—re!4 leon kennedy x reader

contains nsfw content, MDNI, 18+

masterlist taglist prompt game

you don’t know how you ended up in the backseat of your boyfriends car, getting eaten out like a five course meal, your legs trembling around his head. his large hands holding onto your hips and stomach, keeping your stomach flat.

you don’t know at what point the teasing turned to taunting, the kissing turned passionate and he decided to eat you out until you were screaming and practically dripping all over his backseat.

you don’t know how he managed to pull the car into a field, tucked into brushes and trees at night. you also don’t know how long it took the windows of his car to steam up, or at what point they did.

all you knew is that you couldn’t stop trembling and shaking as he ate you out, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your mouth and body. all of a sudden after the aftershocks of her last orgasm, he presses kisses on the insides of your trembling thighs.

“i don’t think i can go anymore. i think…i think…” you try to talk but your brain is muddled and empty. all you can think about is the exhaustion in your body and how he pulled so many orgasms out of you with just his mouth and fingers alone. you don’t know if you can even take anymore.

he laughs softly against your thigh, his breath fanning against the skin there, “you also said that after the first one…but look,” he gestures to the mess you probably made on his seat. “your dripping everywhere. i think you can handle one more.” he says with an almost feline smirk on his lips.

you didn’t think you could. you would probably pass out before he even pulled another one for you.

but he shocked you by sitting up in the back of his car and pulling your naked and sweaty body ontop of him, your thighs straddling over his.

“what are you doing?” you slur in a desire drunken haze as you steady your palms onto his bare shoulders. he chuckles and presses a kiss to your sweaty cheek, smoothing a hand down into your hair. “i’m fucking you.” he rasps as he maneuvers your body so that your able to ride him.

“i can’t…i can’t ride you.” you mumble in a whiny protest as you feel him rub his erection in between your drenched folds. “i can’t…” you whine again in desperation.

he shakes his head, his blonde strands moving with him, “you don’t have to do anything, just sit on my cock and look at me all pretty. i’ll take care of it.” he says with some minor confidence.

you don’t even care about the logistics of how, that’s out the window and not even in your brain anymore. you feel horny but overstimulated and tired. you feel like you could just fall asleep ontop of him and pass out from the mindless way he’s been pulling orgasms from you.

you can’t even protest or get the words out before he’s lifting you up by the flesh of your thighs and lowering you onto his cock. basically spearing you from the inside out, even though he slipped in with no resistance.

you choke back a small noise, mixed between a sob and a moan. because, how can this feel so good and so overwhelming at the same time? doesn’t matter how many times you’ve taken him in your relationship, it’s still a tight fit.

“fuck me…your so fucking — christ…” he mutters in a strained tone as he ducks his head into your shoulder, keeping you still on his lap. your head is lulling backwards and you can’t even fight the energy to even care how fucked out you probably look.

“leon…” you whine softly, your brows furrowing as you try to just sit still and not even move on instinct. he grips the flesh of your hips tighter, “don’t. don’t say my name like that right now.” he mutters as he tries to not blow his load like pubescent boy.

he slowly begins to move you up and down on his lap, slowly thrusting in and out of you. both of your breaths ragged and strained with exhaustion and desire. your both pushing each other to the limits to make yourselves feel good and its showing. he can’t stop groaning and making noises, which only makes you clench around him tighter. “please…fuck, baby, christ.” he practically begs as he keeps slowly thrusting up into you. his hands holding firmly onto your hips as he aims to get you off, yet again.

you have no idea what he’s begging for but you probably have a good idea as to what.

but your getting impatient, he’s not hitting the right spot and as sensitive as you already are, you figured you would’ve cum by now. you haven’t and it’s frustrating you so much that you begin to take matters into your own hands. you start meeting his thrusts despite your exhaustion and frustration. he notices this and leans his head back with a small groan, loving that you’ve started to fuck him.

he almost doesn’t want to look as you begin to ride him, you’ve done it plenty of times before so its kind of ingrained in his memory. he can almost picture it in his mind — you bouncing up and down on his cock, your pupils dilated with lust and hunger, your breasts bouncing and your head thrown back. god, the image in his mind alone is enough to make him —

“please don’t stop…” he finds himself saying in a voice that sounds nothing like him at all, all whiny and pathetic. like your torturing him by riding him. neither of you would admit this out loud but their was always an unspoken rule in your relationship, that you liked it when the roles were sometimes switched. so when he practically moaned that through the car as you rode his cock, you squeezed around him and gripped at his bare shoulders. desperate to get him to the same peak as you.

you don’t know how long you rode him, it felt like a whole year had passed but in reality it was only a couple of minutes. you hit that spot when you bounced down on him and kept chasing it, his moans low to high and whiny were making you feel elated. like you were reaching the peak and you could accomplish anything if you made him cum.

he grips the fat of your hips tightly again and holds onto you desperately as you feel that knot unravel in your stomach, “fuck, gonna cum…leon…” you moan with a small whine at the end, keeping up your pace on top of him even though your legs were beginning to hurt. you couldn’t stop, not when you were so close and so was he —

“oh! shit!” you whined loudly as you interrupted your own thoughts and clenched around his cock as you came. your legs and your whole entire body shaking as you fell apart ontop of him.

he groaned loudly, it was almost too much for him as he buried his head into your neck and kept you on top of him. feeling you come undone was just enough for him as you rode out your high on his cock.

“that’s it baby, it’s okay…” he says in a raspy voice as he lets you slide up and down on his cock a little slower. he could feel his own muscles tense up as he practically growled against her neck, coming undone with a shaky exhale. he swears he almost saw stars for a moment as he erupted inside of you.

thrusting his come up into you as you both slowed the pace of your own movements. making yourselves slowly come down and come back to earth. you let leon talk you through it as you stayed ontop of him, letting him plug the cum inside of you.

you buried your head into his shoulder as his hand came up and stroked your hair, untangling the messy knots in it. his hand running down to your spine and tracing patterns to soothe you.

he knew he took a lot from you tonight, he was aware. but you also knew that it was worth it. all the pain and exhaustion was worth it when he brought bliss to the both of you tenfold. he loved seeing you fall apart as much as he loved being the one to do it. it gave him satisfaction and comfort knowing that when you were with him, you were taken care of.

and you always would be.

“you feeling okay?” he whispers against your sweaty temple as he still traces his fingers over your spine. you nod against his shoulder and let out a couple ragged breaths. “yeah, i feel okay.” you whisper softly as you drag your eyes up to look at him.

“i love you baby.” he says softly as he strokes his hand up to your cheek, rubbing his thumb under the skin of your eye. you melt into a puddle of softness and goo underneath his caring touch, so gentle and contrasted to how he pleasures you.

“i love you too.” you whisper. and you mean it, you couldn’t imagine loving anyone else.

not like leon.

an: i’m sorry this took so ungodly long for me to finish and post. i’ve had so much going on in my personal life and it’s been very very chaotic lately. but i managed to finish and post!!! yay!!! three cheers for me, pls, i need it right now. i’ll be posting more consistently since my life has become a little less crazy, i hope you guys enjoyed. pls reblog and like!! it supports small lil writers like myself. i love you all, kisses. xx

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @porcelainseashore @squazmine @spfoah @jmivenus (if you wanted to be added, interact with the link at the beginning!! <3)

[silent-stories]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: Eddie's father didn't react well when Eddie accidentally dropped a bottle on the ground and years later, he still expects a violent reaction to an incident like this.

Warnings: violence (eddie gets beaten by his dad), blood, angst, fluff.

Eddie slowly opened his bedroom door, careful not to make too much noise and looked around, trying to identify the figure of the man who had returned home about an hour before, around three in the morning.

Probably, it was not a suitable time for a father of a seven-year-old boy and husband of a dying woman in hospital to come back home, even Eddie understood that.

He used to come back home late and drunk when his mother was still with them and he didn't stop doing it even when she got sick.

The blue socks on Eddie's feet cushioned the few steps he took forward, in the dark. His sleepy gaze, due to the late hour, scanned the room as he brushed aside a curl that had fallen over his eyes with his small, thin fingers.

His hair was getting too long again, he knew his father would soon order him to cut it.

The man's snores were guttural, punctuated by occasional coughs that rattled the room. The bottle lay discarded on the floor, its contents drained, a silent witness to the nightly ritual.

The television flickered in the corner, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Eddie’s mother’s favorite show played—a distraction from the harsh reality outside. But she wasn’t there to watch it anymore.

Eddie knew that when his father woke up in the morning, he wouldn't remember the bottle of whiskey left at his feet and would most likely drop it when he got up.

Only a few weeks earlier it had happened and Al had blamed it on the boy, saying that when he saw the bottle, the kid should have picked it up and thrown it in the trash when he was sleeping.

Eddie walked over to the couch where his father lay and grabbed the bottle in his hands. It was sticky and had a smell that the boy had found nauseating at the time.

He headed towards the kitchen, thinking whether he should leave it on the table, throw it in the bin with the remnants of the reheated pizza he had eaten for dinner, or go out and throw it in the rubbish bin on the street in front of the house.

The TV program came to an end and the screen went black for a few seconds, plunging the room into total darkness.

Eddie was sure that chair was a few steps ahead, he could have sworn it.

Probably, he should have waited for the light on the screen to return before taking any more steps.

His body hit the chair. The bottle slipped from his hands.

The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, emitting a deafening sound in the silence of the night and the man who was previously sleeping thoughtfully woke up with a start.

"What the hell..."

The child's eyes filled with tears even before his father reached him, staggering.

"What the hell did you do!?" The man barked, his deep voice seeming capable of shaking all the doors in the house.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to throw away the bottle and I didn't-"

The man's fist came in contact with Eddie's face before he could finish his sentence.

The boy stumbled back, leaning against the wall behind him to keep himself from falling on the ground.

A terrible pain spread across one side of his face and he felt something warm dripping from his nose, the blood mixed with tears that he couldn't hold back.

“You never do anythin' right.” His father spat out.

Eddie sniffed, his lower lip trembling as he spoke. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Shut up!" Al shouted from a few inches away from the child's tear-stained face.

Eddie closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for a second shot that didn't come. A sob escaped his lips and the fear that another punch would come soon didn't go away.

“Look at you,” Al chuckled, “weepin' like a girl.”

"I-I'm sorry-"

“You keep fucking sayin' that but you're doing nothin' to fix your mess!” The father shouted, grabbing the kid by the shoulder, with a grip too firm that would surely have left a bruise, pushing him towards the place where the bottle had fallen.

"Clean up." Al ordered.

Eddie nodded, knowing his voice wouldn't come out the way he wanted it to.

The silence received in response only further angered the man who, after reaching the child again, grabbed his face with one hand, squeezing it between his fingers.

"What is wrong with you? I said fucking clean up."

"Yes- sir." The boy sobbed.

Al released him with one last push, gave him one last look before heading towards his bedroom while the boy tried not to step on the pieces of glass around the room, which would easily pierce his old socks.

"Useless, fucking useless" Eddie heard his father say, "He can never do anything fucking right."

Finally, he closed the door of his room behind him and, only after Eddie heard the sound of his snoring reaching all the way to the kitchen, he started sobbing like he had never done in his life.

He spent the last hours of the night and early morning cleaning the pieces of bottles from the floor- cutting his hands two or three times in the process- and wiping away the drops of blood that his nose had left there.

He went to bed when the sun was already up, his hands had been bandaged as best he could and his nose had finally stopped bleeding.

The sound of the bottle shattering and his father's shouts seemed to haunt him even during his sleep.

That was the case for several days.

The memory of that night has never been erased. Not even thirteen years later.

"Eddie, we didn't buy any basil!" You exclaimed, looking up from the open recipe book on the table. “I knew we forgot something!”

The kitchen was warm, the aroma of simmering tomato sauce filling the air as Eddie stood by the counter, his hands dicing onions.

You were surprised that he hadn't cut any of his fingers yet and that he seemed to be putting all his effort into the task you assigned him.

"I have all kinds at home, if you really wanna add some... herbs."

You threw a rag at his head, making him laugh under the fabric.

"Hey!" He complained.

"What does "hey" mean? You wanted to put fucking drugs in my sauce!"

"“I thought that was our sauce.” He smirked.

You laughed at the way he said it, as if he was actually offended and hadn't spent the last hour laughing even though he was chopping onions.

“It depends, are you done with those?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. "All yours, my lady."

When he turned around, his elbow accidentally hit the glass bottle of olive oil, making it crash onto the tiled floor.

You never do anything right

Shards scattered like stars, reflecting the dim light.

After the sudden deafening noise caused by the bottle, the room seemed almost too quiet. He felt your gaze on him, but he didn't dare meet your eyes.

His heart raced, memories of that childhood night flooding back. His father’s rage, the jagged edges of broken glass, and the fear that had etched itself into his soul. Eddie clenched his fists, berating himself for his clumsiness.

His hands shook, the tremors echoing the chaos within. The room seemed to close in, the walls pressing against him. He suddenly felt like couldn’t breathe.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, "I'm sorry."

You keep fucking saying that but you're doing nothing to fix your mess.

He knew you weren't like him, not even remotely. He knew that he was no longer with him, that he was far away, that he couldn't hurt him.

What is wrong with you?

Despite this, he held his breath for a moment without even realizing it, as if he expected you to yell at him, to insult him, to tell him that he was no good at anything.

Useless, fucking useless.

"Shit, I have to clean up." He breathed, ducking ready to grab the pieces of glass with his hands.

He didn't even notice when you knelt in front of him, almost without making any noise.

Your touch was gentle as your hand met his, preventing him from grabbing the glass pieces.

"Hey. You're gonna cut yourself."

Your voice was calm and sweet, your tone almost sounded like one someone would use with a scared animal.

You weren't mad at him. You knew something was wrong with his reaction, and you weren't mad at him.

"But-"

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “Just a bottle.”

Your thumb ran over the back of his hand, drawing a couple of circles.

Eddie thought he might burst into tears right there in the middle of the kitchen covered in bottle pieces.

He expected anger, frustration, maybe even a shout. Instead, you reached for a dustpan, your hand never leaving his. Together, you swept up some of the shards, the silence broken only by the soft clink of glass. Eddie’s breaths steadied, and he realized that maybe, it was going to be okay.

His words stuttered when he spoke, still caught between vulnerability and fear. “You’re not mad?” he asked, his voice raw.

“No,” you replied, you gaze steady, still soft as ever. “I’m not mad and I have no reason to be. I don't know what was going through your head and I'll be here if you ever want to tell me, but really, it's just a bottle for me. It's okay. We’ll clean this up together.”

Your smile has always been one of the most beautiful sights for Eddie and in that situation even more so, if possible.

He couldn't help but gently push you against him and leave a light kiss on your forehead, without saying a single word. Now he knew you understood him even without them.

In your small kitchen covered in broken glass, Eddie realized that it was impossible to erase certain bad memories but that, if you gave him the opportunity, he would spend the rest of his life creating new ones with you.

When you finished cleaning and the sun went down, neither of you really cared that you hadn't finished cooking.

When you went to bed, Eddie held you a little tighter than usual.

His dad was no longer part of his life.

You were. And you loved him.

Eddie didn't need anything else.

A "thank you" was whispered during the night.

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

[kayhi808]

So I was thinking about first crush and after your Uncle Steve one shot I was wondering what would Bucky do if reader and/or Abby got sick?

Maybe reader gets sick so he offer to take care of Abby while she gets better or Abby gets sick and she only wants Bucky. And his left hand is cool enough that it relieves her fever, which only makes Abby love his left arm more!

Idk if you had something planned for the series like this so feel free to ignore!

Anyways I love the series so much!

Val, you are the sweetest!! Thank you so much for you support and for always being so encouraging! xoxo

"What are you doing here??" You opened your door to find Bucky with a bag of take-away food. Your hands go to your hair trying to tidy up your appearance. Abby's had a fever and is miserable. So, you're a bit of a mess as well.

He drops a kiss on your brow, "You sounded beat on the phone. I thought I'd bring over dinner and help out if I can."

"No, I don't want you catching whatever she has, shaking your head & nudging him towards the door.

"Super serum. I don't get sick." He gives you a smug smile.

"Mama!" You hear Abby start to cry. "Pwease help, Mama." You turn away from Bucky and rush to Abby's room. "I called-ed you, Mama! You runs away."

"No, baby. I'm here. Mama's here." You sit on the bed and cradle her in your arms, rocking her. "I had to answer the door." You press your lips to her brow and it's still hot with fever.

"What happened here?" Bucky walks into Abby's bedroom and Abby cries harder.

"I...I sick and doctor says I has to take yuck me'cine." Abby throws her head back sobbing dramatically like the drama queen that she is. You roll your eyes and glare at Bucky because you see the mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

"No he didn't!"

"He did! And I don't wike it!"

"How dare he treat my girl like that!"

"I knows," wiping her snotty face into your shirt.

"Ew, Abby!"

"C'mere Princess." He holds his arms out to her & you pass her over while getting tissue to wipe her nose. She fights you and it only makes her cry harder into Bucky's shoulder. You're ready to scream as well.

"Why don't you take a shower? Calm down. I got her." He drops a kiss at your temple and another on your neck. "Take as long as you need. We'll be fine." You're on the verge of tears at his kindness. "Go. You need this. It's ok."

You're able to pull yourself back together. Cleaning yourself of sweat, tears and baby snot. You stay in there until you run out of hot water.

Feeling human again, you find Bucky laying on the couch with Abby. Her little body is wrapped around Bucky's Vibranium arm. Her cheek is squashed up against his arm and she looks peaceful. You brush the back of your fingers against her forehead and its cool to the touch.

"Feel better, doll?"

You give him a smile but before you can answer, Abby pipes up, "I's good."

"You feel better, my baby?" Kneeling down by them.

"Bucky's arm is so cold. I loves it." She closes her eyes and snuggles around his arm and falls asleep.

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22 @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05

[red-riding-wood]

I Want You to Want Me

Pairing: Neil Lewis x F!Reader

Fandom: Watching the Detectives

Summary: Neil receives a frantic call and finds you outside of Gumshoe after a date night gone wrong. Secretly habouring feelings for you ever since the two of you met, he finds you oddly irresistable in your tears and torn fishnets.

Warnings: SMUT, mutual pining, dub-con touching, dryhumping, riding, foreplay, teasing, begging (m), masturbation (m), clothed sex (semi), Neil being a wet paper towel, so just Neil being Neil, pervy Neil, switch!Neil, slight dom but mostly sub!Neil because c'mon guys it's NEIL, slight dom!reader, body worship, public sex (technically?), premature ejaculation (sort of?), angst, some fluff? by my standards anyway lol so take that with a grain of salt -- this ended up being more wholesome than I thought it would be

Inspired by this cover of I Want You To Want Me (the reader's song) and Creep (Neil's song) by Radiohead.

Huge thanks to @your-nanas-house for getting me started with a prompt for this and cheering me on!

Totally nicked the "jock boyfriend" inspo from @cillianmesoftlyyy's fic here; go check that out if you want more spicy Neil content, because it was fantastic!

And thank you and also fuck you to @rysko for dramatically beta reading this in my ear WHILE I WAS TRYING TO MAKE THE HEADER

And now that I'm done thanking every fic writer on tumblr, my parents, the Royal Society for the Prevention of Birds, and Saturn and all of its rings, enjoy your filth!

WC: 4239

He found you outside the back door of Gumshoe, huddled against the concrete step, the cool air of the spring night nipping at the wet tears that streaked your cheeks, the slight breeze stirring a shiver from one fretful limb to the next. The whites of your eyes burned red beneath the faint glow of the lanterns atop the neighbour’s picket fence. It wasn’t exactly the most incognito place to cry your eyes out, but you didn’t have a key to Neil’s store, and it was nearly three in the morning. 

“Hey, I got your call. What’s going on?” A familiar voice broke the pitiful sounds of your sobbing, and the tension of your shoulders eased if only slightly at the mere sound. 

You tried to answer past your sobs, but found that your words came only in hiccups, in broken fragments of your splintered heart, and it didn’t take long for him to sweep an arm around your shoulders, lowering himself to sit beside you on the cold step. Instinctively, you found yourself leaning into his touch, trembling against the warmth of his body. 

Neil was never really great at these sorts of things to begin with, but it certainly didn’t help that his attention was drawn to the low-cut top where a tear streaked down the groove of your breasts, to the fishnets that you’d torn on your way out the door of your boyfriend’s, to the short skirt that rode up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace hem of your panties. 

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and he tried to keep his eyes on the face you so desperately tried to hide with your trembling fingers, for you were ashamed of your unkempt appearance. You must’ve looked like a cheap whore – a mess of one, no less. You couldn’t tell what was more embarrassing: the way you were dressed, like you were begging for attention, or the way your emotions seized you so cruelly that you could scarcely breathe. 

“Hey.” His warm, careful touch landed on your wrist, and as you pulled your fingers from your lashes, they came away black with smudged mascara. “I’m here,” your friend said. “Tell me what happened.”

You could still only speak in hiccups and broken vowels.

“Shhh,” Neil soothed you, fingers running up and down your spine, sending tiny shivers through each nerve as the fabric of your shirt bunched and his skin brushed yours. “Shhh. I’m here.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, your hair spilled in sticky threads over the jacket that, judging by the slight musty scent that lingered in the weave of the corduroy, had probably missed one too many washes. But you didn’t care. You’d come to appreciate the little imperfections about him, the details of his scent that made Neil Neil. Like the waxy tinge that seemed to always cling to his fingers after a long shift of rolling back tapes. Like the silk cream and smoke of the vanilla candle you’d gifted him last week. Like the artificial scent of cheap shaving cream and the slightest hint of blood where he’d nicked himself with the razor. The musk of his sweat and skin, buried beneath all these little things that you’d come to know almost as intimately as your own.

But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. And its unfamiliarity unnerved you.

His other hand came to rest on your knee, hot as fire in the cold of night. He thumbed at the tear in your fishnets and looked at you with bright, concerned eyes, but he used this as an excuse to touch you.

“Did he hurt you?” Neil asked. His hand stayed on your knee. In a way, it felt comforting; it grounded you enough so that, finally, after lulled by the rise and fall of his shoulder and the unique blend of his scent, you could speak.

“Is that cologne?” You wrinkled your nose and drew back to look him in the eye, your tangled hair peeling reluctantly from his corduroy jacket.

A rose blush came upon Neil’s cheeks, and he smiled nervously. He’d been sure to spritz himself with a good helping of it before he left, despite his hurried state. He needed to impress you; ever since you’d started dating that jock from across the street, he’d been trying to find more ways to steal your attention back.

“Yeah, it’s new,” he said, a little flustered, in a way that made your stomach flutter. “I wanted to ask for your opinion on what I should get, but you – well…” His voice cracked a bit as a hint of sadness crept into his tone. “… you’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“It’s awful,” you told him, laughing slightly, and your words seemed to cheer him up; his lips tugged into that playful grin of his again, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his throat.

And then you both fell into silence, and he looked back to your knee, still thumbing the skin where the fabric had torn.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Neil said.

You swallowed, another lump forming in your throat, and when you looked at him, bottom lip in your teeth, reddened eyes pouting, rimmed by your messed mascara, his heart sped in his chest in both fear and arousal. The thought of James even touching you boiled his blood, made his skin crawl and tightened a noose round his neck, but seeing you like this, baring your soul to him with those tear-brimmed eyes and mournfully upturned brows, it made him want you even more.

If he’d been the one to take you out tonight, he would’ve brought you home to his bed, worshipped each inch of your hallowed skin and made love to you like you were the only woman in the world, splayed his fingers across your thighs and parted them like a sea, dropped to his knees and prayed with the hungered strokes of his tongue and lapped at your holy waters.

He’d started reading poetry lately. It had felt right; it was the only thing that seemed to express just how he felt about you. Echoed the words in private like they were gospel; chanted your name from desperate lips as he palmed himself each night – and morning – to your photographs, to the vanilla of the candle that reminded him so much of you, to the fantasy of your sweat-slicked thighs wrapped around his waist, your walls clenched around him as he bucked his hips against your weight and finally let himself go, spilling himself inside you and hearing you moan so sweetly for him from those heavenly lips, feeling his own cum dampen his stomach as you collapsed over him. He always knew you’d be so tight, that you’d fit so perfect around him.

But sitting here, staring at your shivering, impotent form in your torn fishnets and your skimpy attire, he could barely contain the urge to tear open your knees and fuck you against the concrete. It had been so long since he’d even been this close to you; James took up all of your time nowadays, and gone were the late movie nights and stolen games of basketball on the breaks he took so liberally.

He missed you. So much.

And you knew it. You knew it, deep in your chest where the remnants of your heart twisted, still hearing the words, “You’ve been pretty busy lately.”

You shook your head, choking out another sob as shame crept along your skin, and you shivered at its grotesque touch. “No, he didn’t hurt me… not – not in that way.”

You couldn’t look at him; his pearlescent blue eyes and his sun-kissed freckles and his boyish brown locks all fading into memory as you buried your face in his chest, inhaling once more the faint scent of his laundry detergent and the musk of him beneath the shirt that was flipped inside-out but still outlined the blatant logo of Back to the Future. Whether he hadn’t realised he’d put it on backwards or he’d been shy about it, you couldn’t be sure, but it lightened your heart all the same, your sobs turning to giggles.

Neil pulled you closer, his chin resting along the nape of your neck and his hand running up your thigh; you barely noticed how near his hand was to your panties as you tugged at his shirt, nails sinking past the fabric as if to keep him and never let him go.

You regretted all that time you’d spent with James, when you should have been spending it with him instead. Everything felt so much easier with him; your smiles were broader, your laughter more carefree.

But you wanted more – selfish and lovesick, you wanted more than what he already gave you. You needed more than his attention and his friendship.

You needed him to want you.

“I thought that…” You sniffled. “… I thought that James wanted me. I dressed up all… nice… fucking whorish… and I thought tonight was finally the night and that he would’ve… that he would’ve…”

The words twisted in your throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Two hours ago, when you did up your makeup and clothes for your date with James, you’d felt sexy. Powerful, even.

Now, you just felt worthless.

Neil nestled his nose in the crook of your neck, brushed the silk strands of your hair aside, breathed your scent in so deeply that for a moment, the butterflies came back to the pit of your stomach.

“I just want to be wanted,” you admitted, losing it, sobbing uncontrollably into the now-damp shirt that clung to his thin frame. “I just want to be desired. That was the only reason I was with him, Neil. The way he looked at me that day when he came into the store, I…”

With a bitter pang in his chest, Neil remembered that day. The way James had looked at you like you were a piece of meat. The way he’d asked you if had any recommendations on which sports film he should rent and Neil had practically wedged himself between the two of you and started chattering to James about every little piece of trivia he knew about Chariots of Fire and Rocky. How, despite his efforts, James had still gone home with your number as well as the tapes. How you’d come in the next morning with a hickey on your neck and Neil had just known that where James had paused one of the tapes was when your movie night was likely cut short by… things he’d rather not think about ever again.

It should’ve been his couch you’d been curled up on, should’ve been him watching the movie with you. His mark on your neck.

And he would’ve picked something a little more fitting for the mood, too. Something more like Casablanca or Sin City. It was as if James didn’t even have to try to get you drooling over him. What was so special about him, anyway?

I wish I was special, Neil thought.

Neil’s grip on you tightened at the memory, nails digging in to the flesh of your thigh in a way that stirred a little gasp from your lungs, huffing against his collarbone as you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Y/N.”  His breath caught in his throat, and he reluctantly pulled from your neck to look you in the eye, locks of messy hair falling across his forehead and his eyes half-lidded. His fingers ghosted up your thigh, and you blinked past the sharp mint of his mouthwash – it burned your eyes slightly, but you didn’t care. You were so close to him, your breaths became one, a few threads of his hair tickling your cheeks and his nose brushing yours.

“Neil,” you breathed, the slightest of smiles tugging at your lip as your heart thudded between your legs, dangerously close to his fingers. Warmth spread across each fevered limb, taking you somewhere past the cold concrete and bitter chill of the wind, somewhere away from the graffiti-painted alley and the reek of broken booze bottles. Somewhere safe, and warm, and thrilling all at once.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Neil’s voice cracked around the words, a nervous laugh huffing against your fluttering lashes as his freckled cheeks darkened another shade of red. The hand that wasn’t between your legs played with a lock of your hair, twirling it in his finger but still supporting you beneath a quivering arm.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe this was real.

He had to have been playing some sick joke, right?

But the whimper that fell from his lips was very real, as his nails dug into your flesh again and he tugged you closer, his hips arching upward against your outer thigh.

“You look more than nice. You’re so fucking hot in this skirt, in anything you wear. That asshole is fucking blind,” he breathed, fingers grazing your panties and landing over your hipbone, testing the waters more and more as he tried not to rock his growing arousal too obviously against you.

But you noticed. You noticed the way his cock hardened and twitched beneath your weight; you noticed how even despite his body trembling from his attempts to resist his primal urges, his hips still gave little bucks upward, seeking friction. Seeking the heat that flared between your thighs, that ached for him so desperately that it was all you could do not to return the favour.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Staring into those gorgeous, bright eyes. Looking up at him with anything but innocence. So he scooped both hands around your ass, squeezing the flesh and lace and tugging you properly onto his lap with an alluring squeal tearing from your full lips.

“I want you, Y/N.” His hot breath pooled at your collarbone as he trailed wet, sloppy kisses along your jaw, your neck, and your lips parted in another gasp, back arching and thighs clenching around his waist as you ground wet panties against the bulge in his trousers.

“I fucking need you,” he whined, nipping like a needy puppy at the delicate skin of your neck. “Always have.” Another kiss. “Ever since I first saw you. Long before James.” A possessive growl stirred from his throat at that, the flare of dominance sending a jolt through your core.

“Neil, I – oh my God.” A moan broke your words as his fingers moved up your spine and his teeth grazed your collarbone, hovering over your pulse point.

“Fuck, baby. Say that again. Just like that.” His fingers began rolling your shirt up over the lip of your breasts, the sight enough to make him whine again in need. He couldn’t help himself from groping you, squeezing your breasts and rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Bending his neck to trail more sloppy kisses down your torso, they were his next destination.

“Oh my – Neil. Neil, I – “ You had so much to tell him, so much you needed off your chest, but his hips bucked sharply against you at the sound of his name moaned so beautifully, a low groan in his throat and his cock digging slightly inside your heat, the fabric of your panties scraping almost painfully against your walls.

“Please, Y/N, please don’t make me stop. Please let me keep touching you like this. I wanna worship you.” His hot breath shattered against a pert nipple. “Wanna fucking prove to you how much I want you.”

For a few moments, you were rendered speechless, mind whirring like the wheels on a VHS. Everything was happening so fast, and the warmth of his touch was seeping into you like honey, inundating you in a sort of comforting flame.

He could almost smell the vanilla of the candle wick burning.

You left nail marks down his chest where you clawed at the collar of his shirt, but he didn’t care. He sucked a nipple past his teeth and moaned around the taste of you, the sound so filthy that your eyes nearly rolled back in your skull as your parted lips tipped to the heavens. His name outlined by their perfect shape.

Reality came crashing down around you as you jumped, another squeal leaving your tongue as his teeth bit at your nipple and pain shot along your nerve endings.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, chest heaving, looking up at you with reverent eyes. “I didn’t mean to, I – “

You cupped his chin in your palm and shook your head. “No, Neil. I’m sorry.” A tear streaked down your cheek, beaded on your jawline. “I’m so, so sorry.” You were beginning to sob again, and his brow furrowed in concern, thumb beginning to trace small circles along your spine. “I’m sorry I abandoned you for James, I didn’t… I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know you felt this way, I – I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he told you, his words sinking into your skin like a warm tide. With one hand, he brushed the tear from your jaw and wove his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer. “Just let me keep touching you. Please.”

When you didn’t respond for a moment, caught up in the way his blue eyes seemed to hollow with a certain hunger, the way his chest rose and fell beneath the bare flesh of your stomach, he uttered that word again:

“Please.”

You smiled, elated and giddy with joy, blood pounding with arousal, and kissed him, threading your own fingers into the fluffy locks of his hair.

Another tear streaked across your lips as they met his, and you tasted like salt and vanilla, slightly waxy from your chap-stick but the sweetest thing he’d tasted nonetheless. At first, he was embarrassed by the noises he made, the way he’d accidentally called you “baby” because he’d always wanted to do so, but he melted beneath you like butter. Nothing mattered anymore except the fact that you were finally his, that you were in his arms and grinding against his cock.

Neil broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside somewhere on the concrete – he would buy you a new one. His hands flattened against your back and pulled you flush to his chest, taking any excuse he could to hear that little squeal you made each time.

“Please, baby, please let me be inside you,” he whined, biting his lip as he stared up at you with those powder-blue eyes. Nails dug into your skin. Hips bucked against yours.

Your heart soared with his words, his worship, his want; you’d never been this ecstatic in your whole life. Part of you wanted to keep teasing him, make him beg, while another part of you ached to feel him buried to the hilt inside you.

“Patience, Neil,” you giggled, as you undid his trousers. You worked them down to his knees and your eyes widened as your hand brushed his cock, bare and springing flush against his stomach. You hadn’t expected him to not wear boxers.

Neil smiled sheepishly up at you, eyes still lidded, mouth still panting out a fevered breath. “I was in a rush getting dressed. I…” His cheeks reddened, and there was something so cute about how pathetic he looked in that moment. “You wanna know how much I want you, Y/N? I was touching myself thinking of you when you called.”

Creep, some voice in the back of his head hissed.

You bit your lip to suppress a moan, trying to ward off thoughts of Neil stroking himself to you, finishing to the thought of you. Oh, how you wished you could have witnessed the sight.

“Did you come?” you asked, a devious grin pulling at your lips as you took him in your hand, massaging a bead of pre-cum into his sensitive flesh.

His eyes fluttered, and he shook his head, his words coming out as a breathy whine,

“No, I promise. I didn’t come. Not yet.”

“Will you?” You dipped your head to let your words tickle his neck, your grip on him tightening.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Yes, yes, oh God, I will. Fuck, baby. Fuck, gonna come if you don’t stop that, need to come inside you, please, please…”

His mutterings trailed off into a low hiss of a whine, and your movements stilled, dragging him to his peak and letting him teeter at the edge as you both caught your breaths, chest heaving and a cold chill racing down your sweat-slicked back, thighs trembling around him.

“You sure you can handle this?” you purred against his ear before pulling back once more to witness the shivering mess you’d made him, priding yourself in your accomplishment. Lining his cock up with your entrance, the fabric of your panties scraped his tip teasingly as you slotted them to the side.

Neil looked up at you like you were some kind of goddess, his breathing coming laboured, his throat stripped of words. The dazed, blissful look he gave you was all the answer you needed. But you wanted to reap him of every last praise he had.

“Use your words, Neil,” you giggled, smirking.

“Ah…” His lips parted, near soundless. You watched intently as they formed the word “Please”.

You almost felt bad for him.

But it wasn’t pity that brought your hips down around him, slowly, teasingly, savouring the stretch of him against your walls and the fullness in your belly, but rather, your own need.

Neil’s head rolled back against the brick wall, blood welling at his lip where he bit it to keep himself from toppling over his peak; he nearly did it to himself when he bucked his hips upward, burying himself inside you, making you whimper at the pain that blended so sordidly with the pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, and your nails grazed his scalp, and every little sensation sent him into overdrive. He used these little things to ground himself, as you had his tangled scents; he focused on how smooth your stomach felt against his own, his shirt hiking up so that you were skin to skin; he focused on the noises you made, huffing and whimpering, as you began to ride him; he focused on the softness of the breast that he cupped in his hand. Tried not to think about how you felt better than he’d imagined, how you clenched so tightly around his cock that he was almost pushed out each time you elevated your hips, but were so wet for him that he slid back inside so seamlessly each time.

“Neil,” you moaned as you fucked yourself on his cock, breast bouncing beneath his thumb, skirt fluttering around the bareness of his thighs. “Neil, fuck. Fuck.”

“Baby, I’m s—sorry. I’m gonna…”

You yelped again as pain shot deep inside your core, his hips bucking against yours with a violence you hadn’t known sweet Neil from the VHS store to possess, bottoming out inside you as his nails dug into the now-abused skin of your back and pulling you close, so close you were panting over his shoulder and his breath shattered against your ear. The hand that had been cupping your breast shot up to cradle your head, petting your hair.

He held you to him so tight, you didn’t think he’d ever let go. And you couldn’t have been happier.

Warmth spilled around his cock, sticky against your thighs, painting your insides white. You shuddered around him, balling his hair into a fist and digging your own, sharper nails, against his back.

“I didn’t mean it to be over so fast,” he mumbled into your neck. “I just… you’re so… fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

“So have I,” you breathed. You practically hugged each other, shivering in the night air but content in each other’s warmth. “Don’t worry.” Pulling away slightly, you smiled down at him, cheeks flushing bright red. “If anything, it… it’s endearing.”

“Really?” he chuffed out a laugh.

“It…” you looked down, unable to meet that crystalline gaze. “It makes me feel wanted.” You pecked a quick kiss to his jaw, and could’ve sworn you saw love in his eyes when you pulled away.

“God, you’re perfect.” His voice broke again as his lips sought yours, and his breath hitched in his chest when the action caused you to rock your hips forward, a new sensation he’d never felt before buzzing along his skin. His mouth hung open and you laid kisses to his lips, his jaw, the Adam’s apple that bobbed along his throat. He felt his cock stiffen again inside you, already eager for Round Two.

“I should take you home,” he murmured, hands running up and down your sides. “You must be so cold.” As if just realising that he still had his jacket on, Neil shrugged it off in haste and wrapped the heavy material around your shoulders. A chill ran down your spine, as the material was damp with sweat – you smiled at how predictably forgettable he was when he had a woman on his lap, just as you’d imagined –, but his scent soothed you.

Though you were cold, it was a small sacrifice to make to stay here, with him buried so deep inside you that you felt dizzy in the head. Depleted of your energy and sinking into his warmth, you smirked, and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“I was thinking of just staying like this a while,” you admitted.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he breathed, hugging you even tighter. “Whatever you want.”

A.N. Sorry if this was a bit rough, guys. I smashed this one out the other day because I was tired of my writer's block.

I actually laid into some themes that I was planning on using for a Dark!Neil fic based on the song "Creep" which I don't know when I'll get around to writing, but let me know if you guys would like to hear more about the idea for the series or are interested.

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[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Hey can I do a daemon x velaryon!reader where she is his wife instead of laena and he comes to genuine love her through the years more than anyone they decide to come back to kings landing for laena funeral and the reader start to notice how rhaenyra starts at daemon through the entire funeral. Reader go to talk with her kids ( maegor, rhaegar, and baelon) to introduce to their cousin and she notice that daemon has left and she can’t find rhaenyra. Reader brush off her worries because she trust daemon. Later through the accident with the kid she is in the hall when she sees daemon and rhaenyra walk through she notice rhaenyra looks a bit messed up like her hair and clothes and looks at daemon. Daemon can’t even look at the readers eyes because he knows she will figure out. After everyone goes to bed she want to ask the truth but finds out that’s her brother laenor has died, reader out of grief and sadness decide to stay at driftmark for few days with her parent and tells daemon she will meet him and the children at dragonstone. Daemon and rhaenyra marry each other at dragonstone and readers children literally fly out to driftmark all three of them and tell her what happened. Readers feels angry disgusted humiliated sadness , and she decide to stay at driftmark with her children and nieces and writes to daemon that if he comes and inch close to her or her children she will gladly feed him to her dragon( the cannibal), daemon still tries but her mother tells him to leave while he still can before she does something she won’t regret and how she regrets even letter her children marry daemon and rhaenyra. Couple years the kids has grown up her sons dragon are (greys ghost vervimathior and seasmoke her youngest claimed him after laenor death) and they go back to kings landing for luke positions and daemon sees her and immediately goes to talk with her ( he still loves her and want to work things out) rhaenyra doesn’t like this at all and follows him only for them to sees the reader talking to a little girl who is spit image of reader and daemon and daemon ask who the child is only to find out its their child (reader find out she was pregnant few days after founding out daemon and rhaenyra) daemon is angry that he misses his daughter birth but accept it since he deserve it. Rhaenyra ask for the girls name and reader smirks and says visenya

And some more angst please

Fire & Blood || D. Targaryen x Velaryon!reader

GIF by @redbelles DIVIDERS by @straywords

a/n: I absolutely love this thank u for the request!! p.s this is the longest piece of ff i’ve written 😭 also keep in mind some of the events from hotd don’t happen in this and the the timings are different! And for the sake of my tiktok acc i’m making Elys as fc for the reader to make it easier for me to make tiktoks abt this!

Your darling sister. She is dead. You broke down in your bedchambers as Daemon came up to you, engulfing you in a comforting hug as you continued sobbing. “Shh” Your husband ushered, trying to calm you down.

It absolutely broke Daemon’s heart seeing the person he loved most in his entire life so broken. He wiped the tears away as he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Her funeral is to be held tomorrow, so rest my love” He whispers against your hair as you sniffle, moving your legs to your bed, Daemon soon following.

“She wanted to die a dragon rider’s death, not on her birthing bed” You quietly spoke, your back turned to Daemon, his hand laid rest on your hip drawing circles. “I know sweet girl” He replied. Your hand coming to his to squeeze it before moving closer to him.

~

She was gone. The emotions started rolling in as her casket submerged in the water. You sobbed as Daemon pulled you in to his chest, kissing your forehead.

You wrapped your arms around his torso as your three children clung to your dress. “Stay strong” He rubbed your back as you wipe your tears and face the front again.

Your heart broke seeing your nieces, Baela and Rhaena comforted by your mother. You also saw Rhaenyra and her two boys, Her eyes seemed to be fixated on the man beside you before she gives a small smile to you.

~

“Have you seen the children?” You walk up to Daemon, his eyes somewhere else. He doesn’t reply making you furrow your eyebrows. “Daemon.” You call out again, his eyes moving from the side to your eyes.

Your gaze follows where his eyes were and you lock eyes with Rhaenyra. Turning back around, Daemon looks down at his cup. “Do you know where our children are Daemon” You repeat, “They’re over there” He gently moves your shoulders towards the direction of the boys.

He wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a kiss, “I want to introduce them to their cousins,” You say, holding his hand on your shoulder as he smiles sweetly to you. “That’s a great idea.”

Walking up to your boys, Maegor, Rhaegar, and Baelon, you hug them all giving them kisses on their forheads. “My sweet boys, I want you to meet your cousins” You say to them as you lead them to Rhaena and Baela. You look around to find Daemon but he was no longer where he was.

“Auntie,” A voice calls out as you turn your head and spot Lucerys. Confused, you still give a smile and crouch to his level. “What is it Luke?” You question, “Have you seen my mother? She’s not here” At his words, you look around and he was right. Rhaenyra was nowhere to be found.

“Uh, I’m sure she is somewhere close by. Stay with me if you’d like” You kindly smile to the dark haired boy as he nods. You completely trusted Daemon. Though not the same could be said about Rhaenyra.

~

Your eyes take in the sight infront of you. Aemond infront of a maester as he stitched up his eye, Luke with a bloody nose and the disheveled appearance of your nieces who were in the arms of your mother Rhaenys.

You were accompanied by your three boys, Daemon was still nowhere to be found and you had been waiting in your bedchambers for him but he never returned.

The big doors suddenly open as Rhaenyra came into view. Her hair messy and her clothes untidy. What shocked you the most was Daemon who appeared behind her. He leaned against the door, his eyes looked around but they never met with yours.

You felt a string pull your heart, a pull of sadness. No, that wasn’t right. Daemon wouldn’t do that to you, or his children who he dearly loves.

You had no doubt of his loyalty. But you did remember how in the early years of your marriage that he was always cold to you. That was when you found out he was in love with his then 18 year old niece.

You were no stranger to the Targaryen’s customs in keeping their blood pure. But as the years went on and you produced heirs for Daemon and created a family, he no longer longed for Rhaenyra, but you instead.

A loud gasp escapes your lips as Alicent charges at Rhaenyra with a blade. Your eyes couldn’t help but notice how Daemon slightly moved, like he was contemplating in stepping in but stayed.

After the whole ordeal, Viserys ordered everyone back into their rooms. Your eyes tried to find Daemon but it was too crowded to see where he was. “Where’s father?” Your youngest, Baelon, questioned as you caress his cheek.

“I will find him, go with your brothers to your rooms” You say as they nod and leave. Before you could move further, you were pulled by the hand.

“Father-“ “Your brother is dead” You blink a few times, processing Corlys’ words. “I-“ You were shocked to say the least. How could this day get worse. Losing both your siblings in a span of a day. “H-how?” You stutter as you hug your father.

“We found him in the fireplace, a quarrel of some sort we believe” He says quietly. You knew he was trying his best to keep his composure. “Where’s mother?” You say looking up at him as he looks away.

“Your mother is not in great condition-“ “I will stay here,” You interrupt him, “for a few days atleast” You were both in shock and grief and wanted to stay in the comforts of your home with your parents.

Corlys gives a sad smile and nods his head, “Your mother would like that very much.” He says before a tear drops and he is once again in your embrace.

~

“The boys will go with you back to Dragonstone where I will meet you in a couple of days” You sadly smile, your hands locked with Daemon’s as he nods giving a quick peck on your lips.

Maegor, Rhaegar, and Baelon rush towards you engulfing you in a hug as Daemon watches. “Be good as always” You whisper to them as they nod and you watch as their boat leaves, Daemon on Caraxes as he soars in the sky.

~

After a few days at home in Driftmark, you had yet recieved any letters from your husband, Daemon. Usually he would write to you when you were apart but nothing had arrived.

“Princess, your sons are here” A handmaiden knocks on the door as you look towards your mother, you had not been expecting them. You hurriedly walk outside, Rhaenys close behind as your boys come running to you.

Worried and confused, you hug all three of them. “What is it? Where is your father?” You ask them as they exchange looks at one another. “Father married Rhaenyra!” Baelon lets out as your eyes widen.

“W-what?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Daemon, your loving husband marrying his niece Rhaenyra. No. “It is true mother, we watched father marry Rhaenyra” Your eldest, Maegor quietly said as tears started forming in your eyes.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of betrayal and disgust. How dare Rhaenyra marry your husband after your brother died not long ago. “They killed my son, your brother y/n, so that they could marry” Your mother said through gritted teeth. A few tears roll down your cheeks as you hug your boys. They were your everything.

“We will be staying here from now on” You could tell your sons felt a sense of betrayal and hurt, as much as you did. They watched their own father marry their second cousin. Later that day, you decided to write a letter to Daemon. In the letter, you wrote that if he dared to come anywhere close to you or your children, you would not be afraid to feed him to your dragon, the Cannibal.

Not even a week later, the man had the nerve to show up at Driftmark. You had to ensure your dragon wasn’t anywhere close as he would have killed Daemon right there and then. You refused to go out and talk to him so your mother did.

You listened and watched from an open window, “I commend you for your bravery Daemon for showing up here. Though this will be your last time you ever set foot here at Driftmark or anywhere close to my daughter. I deeply regret letting my children marry you and Rhaenyra!” Rhaenys fumed as Daemon listened.

He continued to say nothing before nodding and turning around, making eye contact with you as you stare at him with no emotion. His eyes however, showed regret and sadness but you brushed it off.

~

6 years later…

You scoff at your mother’s words. “Luke is no true Velaryon and everyone knows that,” You stand up from your seat as Maegor looks at you. “My eldest, Maegor, is the rightful heir to the Driftmark throne, he is of my blood, true Velaryon blood”

As much as you liked the young boy, the matter of your son’s righteous title was on the line. You knew everyone would be on your side, apart from of course Rhaneyra. “Daemon would be an idiot to deny that his own flesh and blood is the heir to the Driftmark throne”

His name in your mouth was odd. You say his name with such disgust. “I would agree but he seems to be blinded by Rhaenyra now” Rhaenys gives a knowing look to her daughter.

You roll your eyes. Daemon had infact two sons with Rhaenyra and one still born daughter. Rumours had spread around saying that she gave birth to a half dragon.

“Viserys is dead, I hear Alicent and her father now rule before her son is crowned King. I dislike her truly, but she only has the right mind when it comes to birthrights” You smirk as your mother nods.

“We will travel to King’s Landing to take back what is rightfully yours Maegor” You place your hands on his shoulders as he nods at you.

“Prepare the dragons, we leave in the morrow.”

~

“My sweet girl!” You beam as you run up to your daughter, scooping her up in your arms. You had found out you were expecting a couple days after Daemon left Driftmark for good.

It saddened you at the same time as Daemon had always wished for a daughter and here she was, but he was in no position to be able to call her his daughter.

You gave your dragon, the Cannibal, pets as you had your daughter in front of you, gripping on the saddle. You take off and you smile at the sight beside you, Maegor on Vermithor, Rhaegar on Grey Ghost, and Baelon on Seasmoke, you late brothers’ dragon.

The sight was menacing and frightened everyone at Kings Landing. You smirk at the sight of all the dragon keepers scrambling around as you and your boys land your dragons.

“Touch any of them and my dragon will feed on you” You call out as Baelon snickers. “Ah, Princess, what a lovely delight to see you” Alicent acknowledges you and your children with a smile.

“Like wise, I am here to discuss my eldest Maegor’s birthright claim to Driftmark” You say as the Queen nods, “Of course, an audience is held today on that matter” “Thank you” You bow at her before you and your children walk into the Red Keep.

How dull the place was. It was cold and grey, definitely not fit for raising a family. You valued your years at Driftmark with your family. It was filled with nothing but happy memories after you completed your family. You often remembered how much Daemon disliked this place, saying that it was more of a prison than a castle.

~

“Who’s side are you on Daemon?” Rhaenyra shouts at him, Daemon was sat on a chair with his left hand massaging his temple. “I’m on no one’s side!” He yells frustratedly.

“But you know deep down Rhaenyra that your boy is no Velaryon, having him sit on the Driftmark throne is nothing but disrespectful and wrong. And you know that” He points at her.

Baffled at his husband’s words she spoke up, “It’s because he’s your son isn’t it?” She spat out. Daemon does nothing but groan and stand up.

His marriage with Rhaenyra was crumbling. At first it was perfect, an uncle who once longed for his niece was nothing but a memory. He was not happy as he used to be during his marriage with Rhaenyra, quite the opposite with you, he soon found out.

He remembers how he used to lust for Rhaenyra when she was all but a maiden, but now, she was a mother who birthed 5 children. She was different to what he wanted to believe.

He thought he could chase his younger days when Rhaenyra was in her late teens. But he was wrong. They were both dragons who clash all the time. He missed you. The simpler and happy days unlike the days he was going through in King’s Landing.

Constant fighting and being at each others throats. They both knew they were out of love for each other. “He is of Velaryon blood, is he not? His mother is a true blood making him heir” He retaliates, this argument going on for far too long.

“And you forget that Luke’s father is of true blood too!” Rhaenyra fires back, knowing her words were lies. This made Daemon laugh, “Lucerys is no son of Laenor, nor is Jacaerys or Joffrey. How long are you going to keep up this facade Rhaenyra?” The princess said nothing, she was infuriated with Daemon, as always.

~

You walk through the halls of the Red Keep with only your boys with you. The people who walked past awkwardly stare at you and your sons, some handmaidens of Rhaenyra most likely.

You wore a deep blue dress that cinched your waist and was a square neck exposing your collarbones. Your boys grew up into spitting images of Daemon, and so was your daughter.

The doors to the throne room opened infront of you as everyone turned their heads to your direction. You spot Alicent and her father infront of the Iron throne, her children to the left. Your mother had also arrived and brought along your nieces.

Your eyes then lock with Daemon’s for the first time in 6 years. You quickly look away from him and look at Rhaenyra who was throwing daggers your way. Maegor stares at Lucerys who shifts closer to his mother making him chuckle.

You stop in between the greens and blacks. Ever since you stepped into the room, Daemon’s eyes never left yours. You looked happy, and more alive than he felt. He then looks towards his three boy, all grown up and taller than you.

He adored them, they were his first children after all. “We gather today to discuss the rightful heir to the Driftmark Throne-“ Otto loudly says before interrupted Rhaenyra.

“Which is obviously Lucerys” She butted in making you look at her, “Speak when spoken to Princess,” Alicent calmly says making her look back to the front. “Princess y/n, state your case” Otto nodded to you.

All eyes were on you as you speak up, “If my son, Maegor was to cut his veins, pure Velaryon blood would spill out. If I was to cut Lucerys’, all but Velaryon blood would spill” You turn your head to Rhaenyra.

“Is that a threat Princess?” She sneered, holding her arm out infront of Luke as Daemon stood back without saying anything. “Would you like it to be? Your son is no Velaryon, everyone in this audience can agree. I will not have a fucking bastard sitting on my ancestral throne” You raise your voice, your body now facing hers.

“My brother would be ashamed of what is happening right now, he too knows that Maegor is the legitimate heir to the Driftmark throne. Not Lucerys.” You finish before turning back to the front, not before looking at Daemon who held a small smile.

“And to add to that, I have preposed a marriage between Maegor and Baela and Rhaegar and Rhaena” You smile towards your nieces as they smile back. Anger filled Rhaenyra. Ever since she saw your youthful looking face again, she couldn’t keep a scowl off her face.

Jealousy radiated off of her as she watched you walk down the stairs, you weren’t thickened in the waist unlike her even after birthing nearly the same amount of children, you didn’t have eyebags under your eyes and most of all, you seemed happy. Something she sought out from Daemon.

Rhaenyra also noticed the look Daemon gave her as she appeared, a look he hadn’t give her in a very long time. “Princess Rhaenyra, you may state your case”

And so she did, but it was filled with nothing but lies that she continued on. Everyone wore a bored expression as she defended her illegitimate son. A final ruling was put down, one that made Maegor heir to the Driftmark Throne.

After the crowds started filling out, Daemon had the urge to follow you and talk to you. He was no doubt still deeply in love with you. He thought marrying his niece would bring back the younger days he thoroughly enjoyed but no.

Instead, when he married her, only the days with you clouded his mind. Rhaenyra followed Daemon before they both stopped infront of an ajar door where their eyes widen in shock.

“Darling, come here” You crouched to meet her level as she wrapped her arms around your neck making soft giggles leave your mouth.

You were interrupted by the door opening. “Y/n…” Daemon started, his eyes on the little girl who looked too much like him. “What are you doing here” You questioned, placing your daughter back on the ground.

Before Daemon could speak up, Rhaenyra beat him to it, moving past him. “Who is she?” Rhaenyra questioned, you could have sworn you saw a glint of jealousy in her eyes as she looked at your daughter. “My daughter, Visenya” You proudly smirk.

You knew Rhaenyra had always wanted to name her daughter Visenya but the gods has other plans for her. “What a nice name” She shakily says before giving a tight lipped smile and rushing out of the room.

Your eyes then flicker towards Daemon who had an unreadable look on his face. “When did you find out” He questions calmly, closing the door.

“A couple days after you left Driftmark” You say in a monotone voice as Visenya busies herself with a toy. The two of you watch her as a small smile made itself on Daemon’s lips.

He hated himself so much. He hated how instead of being a faithful and loyal husband to the most beautiful soul, he decided to run after a childish dream.

“And you didn’t tell me? You didn’t think to inform your husband that you were pregnant with my child-“ “Don’t.” Your lips quiver as tears began to form. “You were not my husband. You were already married to Rhaenyra so why would I tell you?” You yell at him, your handmaiden quickly walking in to take Visenya.

“I know I made a stupid decision but she’s my child too! And you know how much I love our boys-“ He points to you, “You left them fucking traumatised! They had to watch their own father marry their second cousin. How fucked up is that?” Daemon stayed quiet at this.

You sigh before sitting down on the edge of your bed, “Does she even know who I am?” He quietly said, taking a seat beside you. “Of course not. She’s too young to understand and I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to tell her the truth” You look over to him.

He gulps but nods his head. “I understand” Daemon quietly says as you stand up. Smoothing out your dress, you start walking to the door. You give a final look towards Daemon, a single tear dropped before you quickly wipe it off and leave.

[staretes]

it's dark in the fortress of meropide.

the duke’s office is quiet, the silence only broken by the soft snores of the man sleeping at the desk. half filled papers and letters are strewn around wriothesley, who is slumped on the table surface, fountain pen still loosely clutched in his grip.

wriothesley doesn't usually drown himself in work, but on certain days he finds himself dealing with maison gestion’s stringent documents, recording each clockwork meka assembled in the production zone. on those days, both of you forgo your usual night routine, and you always head to his office to keep him company as he works.

but today, it appears exhaustion has taken hold of him, and he drifted off to sleep in the middle of work.

you cautiously make your way to his desk, treading with light steps, careful not to make a sound. 

his desk is a mess. you quietly sort the papers as your lover snores away beside you. before long, neat little piles of paper form in front of you. 

you gently pry the fountain pen from his loose grip. the pen is old, and sometimes ink refuses to flow from its nib. you remember telling him so, and bought him a new one to use at his desk. a sleek black body with his name engraved on it in silver.  funnily enough though, that pen never even made it into his office. instead, it sits on the table next to his side of the bed. 

with the desk in front of you tidied, you take wriothesley's jacket, hung over the back of his chair, and cover his sleeping form.

now that everything's settled, you ought to take your leave. you will see him again in the morning. 

you pause. unless…

your bet with sigewinne is still on. 

you pull a sheet of stickers from your pocket. before long, a grumpy monsieur neuvillette has decorated your lover's shoulder. 

you should have stopped there, really, but neuvillette looked so lonely without anyone to accompany him.

running out of flat space to comfortably stick stickers on, you make a daring move. a pleading melusine, right on his cheek. 

its hard to say you felt a little guilty, especially as the grin on your face grew wider and wider as you pasted more stickers on your partner's gorgeous face. a proud-faced bunny here, a sobbing kitten there, and ooh this one has hearts on it how could you not….

before long, the entire sheet of stickers had been plastered onto wriothesley's face. 

at this point, your shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. your palm is pressed to your lips as your other hand reaches over to his eyes to brush his hair away-

and suddenly you find the sky blue irises of the duke staring into yours.

“just what are you up to, darling?”

[kurooandkenmasslut]

I would like to request a Megumi Fushiguro x reader, where Megumi is saved and Sukuna is defeated. Megumi remembers everything he did, including killing his sister and Gojo. He has a break down and the reader comforts him.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓.

ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ: ˢᵒʳʳʸ ⁿᵒⁿⁿⁱᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ!! ⁱ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ʲʲᵏ ˢ. ᵗʷᵒ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ⁿ ⁱ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗ!! ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵉʳᵛᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ❁

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 stared emotionless at the white ceiling. suddenly taking interest of every brush stroke that can be seen. anything to get his mind off the chaos that has happened.

The two people that he held close, died. again. His teacher, the person that took him in, and the sweetest soul that god had to offer, the girl he grew up with and went to school with, died.

He was a mess. Dark circles lay under his eyes, looking like he never had sleep in a day of his life. And it was true, ever since that day, he hasn't been sleeping properly, even if you, his girlfriend, tried cooing him to sleep. it was a matter of time before he woke up in sweat from a nightmare, of them.

He hasn't been eating, and if he did, it would be to a minimal. The guilt of eating while his loved ones become angels above. He knew Gojo n' tsumiki would scold him for blaming himself, telling him he should know better. but at this rate what is?

As he lay in his bed, his phone on his nightstand buzzed, the light shining through the darkness of the room, the only source of light was the window next to him, although the sun was setting soon.

After a few notifications later, he heard a gentle pattern of knocks on the door. A slight scowl appeared on his face, his throat managing to rasp out, "Who is it?" to the person behind the door.

"It's me, 'gumi. can I come in?" You called out. his silence was making you nervous. that was until you got a "yeah,"

slowly creeping into you're boyfriends room, as if it was a dangerous territory you shouldn't and mustn't pass. you didn't wanna alert him and make any sudden moves.

In hand, you held a wooden tray. filled with all the food your sweet boyfriend likes, aswell as drinks.

Setting it down on the nightstand, there was still some space for you to lay in next to him, and so you did.

"You haven't been answering my texts or eating, gumi. you worry me, you know?" You mumble. you only got a hum back. You know he's grieving and you wanted to help in anyway you could.

Inspecting his face, his eyes were all puffy and his cheeks were a rosy red.

Wrapping your arms around him, taking in his body heat.

"You can talk to me, you know. don't take this all out on yourself, ya hear?" You say, your fingers interlocking in his raven dark hair. Slowly giving him a massage on his scalp, he closed his eyes, and that's when a tear slipped.

"I-I just.. fuck, why did they have to go? its not fair." Megumi mumbled, before the dam broke.

The dam that's been holding an angry ocean for all these years. and it broke on your chest, a sound of someone's muffled sobbing coming after.

massaging his scalp, you whisper sweet nothings into his ear. You truly wished he would recover soon, because seeing and hearing him like this shattered your heart like no other.

when the tears stopped and the sniffles started, megumi lifted his head, mumbling a "thank you, darlin',"

"no problem baby. let's say we watch a movie n' eat the snacks I brought, yeah?"

"That would be 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕, my love."

[poppy-metal]

poppyyyyy i’m gonna cry not the thing i sent you being turned into an au and i have no more ideas for it 😭😭 this is hell. all i have to offer is this ( https://pin.it/4XElozLiD ) is nepo brats wedding dress in my head and it was one of those ones that’s shot by vogue and like sponsored by harry winston and they have a breakfast at tiffany’s themed rehearsal dinner like just a massive networking event essentially that she only agreed to bc she REALLY wanted artashi to see and react and bust down her door to beg for her back. also love the idea of a shitty marriage, i imagine it’s like when blair got married in gossip girl and she thought everything was perfect (on the outside at least) and then when they had their first dance he essentially was like “play your fucking part and this will be so much easier for you” and she was like oooooh shit what did i do 😐 called tashi in tears and she charters her a plane and lets her stay at their penthouse for a few days…..i wanna sit on their couch in a big gown with tears streaming down my face and have them take care of me even tho they’re pissed :( doesn’t mean they wanna see me hurt this badly :( need to try to apologize through sobs and have art say we’ll talk about this in the morning as tashi brushes hair off my forehead and pauses like she’s gonna kiss it :(

OR you could have her freeze up after he pops her little perfect marriage delusion and have her go along with it for months, maybe there’s a fan account that follows your every move that tashi checks daily on a burner. she notices the dwindling amount of times you’re seen with friends, essentially the only time you’re seen now is with that man by your side. over the months your personality snuffs out entirely, looking to him before you speak, smiling along to whatever he says. people make jokes about how your PR team finally broke you. one day art is standing in the corner of their living room, face twisted up, doesn’t look up when tashi makes an inquisitive sound. walks over to her and turns his phone around to show her a photo of you walking hand in hand with your husband into a restaurant, faint bruises up your arm, hair covering your eye intentionally. she stares at the phone with no reaction. finishes getting ready to go, says she forgot something as they get in their car and runs upstairs and barely makes it to the bathroom before she throws up. you’ve changed assistants by now but she finds their information within the hour, loosely threatens them with telling her where you’ll be for the rest of the day, rolls her eyes hard when she hears a “they” instead of “you”. doesn’t change anything she has planned. she makes a call to her legal team after hanging up with your assistant because there’s no way your husband will let you out of this without a fight, one that she’s prepared to hold your hand through the entire way. she shoots her husband a text and lets him know to get the guest bedroom ready.

AUR.

i think..... both can happen. you run to tashi as soon as the wedding is over - still in your dress, though its ripped in places - show up on her doorstep because you know the code to the gate - shivering in the cold and when the door opens tashi is looks so soft. like she'd just gotten ready for bed. hair a little damp and curling at the ends. a pale peach robe tied around her waist. she's beautiful.

she doesn't look happy to see you. "what are you doing here?" said so coldly. like you're not welcome. and why would you be? its so different to face her anger through miles and miles of distance. all you've wanted for months was for her to just - notice you. give you attention. you'd even say sorry, take the blame, take every word back, if she'd asked. but she's looking at you like you're an annoying reporter. a nuisance shown up at her door.

you break down in tears. full body sobs that have you kneeling at her door, at her feet, head in your hands as you shake with all your bottled up emotions. "i messed up." you choke - "i - i - i - its all wrong - tashi - "

you can't speak through your tears, heaving through wet flem in your throat. she'd have every right to toss you out. you wondered how pitiful you looked right now, crumpled like this. still in your wedding dress. your new husband probably buried in some other woman for the night. he wouldn't miss you. you didn't want to go to your new home with him.

you feel warmth at your elbows. tashi's hands, cupping you. "come on." her tone isn't warm, but its lost its chill. she tugs you up. "come in - you'll get fucking pneumonia out here."

she brings you in - one hand at the small of your back to guide you. you sniffle. look around. her home still looks the same. familiar. you're brought to their big expansive kitchen - where art had been scrolling through his phone in sweats and a simple cotton shirt - finishing off a bowl of fruit - when you come into view his fork pauses in the bowl. his expression is completely unreadable. but its not very welcoming.

he looks at tashi, dismissing you. you try not to flinch.

"what's this about?"

tashi leaves you at the kitchen island to open the fridge. she fishes out a bottle of water and brings it over to you. "drink this." she tells you. to art she simply shrugs. "dont know." and she looks at you. "what's this about?"

you struggle to open the bottle. your hands trembling. after a few failed attempts art rolls his eyes, yanks the water from you and opens it with one twist of his wrist around the cap. quick and easy. he slides it back over to you and looks at you blankly.

under both their stares you feel the weight of all the months between you. all the shit you talked about them on social media. the things you'd said.... your bottom lip wobbles. eyes filling with tears. "im sorry." you say, softly. you cant think of what else to say. "im - im sorry for coming - i- ill go."

tashi reaches out. you're startled by how strong her grip is on your arm. her nails almost dig into your flesh. you welcome the sting. a show of emotion. even if its anger. her claws coming out.

"no." she snaps. "you dont get to show up here after the shitshow you've made of this year - in your fucking wedding dress - sniveling like some sort of damsel at our home and then just leave." she points to a stool. "sit. explain why you came."

her tone leaves no room for argument. you find your ass in the stool before you even realize you'd made the conscious decision to move there. like a doll on her strings. it'd always been easy to take her orders.

you try to explain but you're pitiful at it. you keep crying when you bring up your husband - the way he'd treated you. how trapped you feel. how you came here because - despite everything, this was your safe space - you'd never seen it any differently. and you knew, no matter what, tashi would answer the door when she saw it was you on the other side.

they're quiet after that. art works his jaw like hes rolling thoughts around in his head, but his distrust is obvious. you know if he'd been the one to see you at the door, he'd have never answered. that knowledge hurts deeply - to know he's completely detached himself from you. that you'd lost him. his care and his love.

you wondered if you'd be thrown out regardless but tashi rubs at her temple. suddenly looking very worn out and tired. "this is a fucking mess." she says and your stomach twists. you were always complicating things for them. being a burden. she drops her hand. looks down at you like you're a puzzle with a few pieces missing.

you guys are the missing piece, you think.

"you can stay the night." she finally settles on, shares a look with art who looks like he wants to say something about that but she silences him. "we'll talk more about this in the morning. you need..... you need to get out of that god awful dress. and too sleep."

art watches tashi guide you to their guest room with a frown. he doesn't like this. tashi is such a strong front on the outside, but she was alot more vulnerable than people realized. and you'd really hurt her. you'd hurt both of them, but arts feelings..... they didn't matter here. at least, not to him. he could shove down the heartbreak and the anger and the betrayal and everything else he felt about you to make room for the world of hurt tashi was going through. he had to be strong for her. and you being here - showing back up - pouring salt in an open wound - god. you were such a selfish fucking brat. always had been. he used to find it endearing. now he just wanted to throttle you.

in the guest room - tashi helps you out of the dress. her knuckles skim down your spine when she unzips you. kneeling down to help you out of your heels. you hiss when she turns your foot - assessing the blisters. "jesus." she huffs. stands and gets you some of her things to wear. a soft tank top and some shorts. arts boxers, actually. you flush when you put them on, under tashi's watchful gaze. she points to the bed when you're done, a silent command.

you sink down onto the comforter. bite your lip when she comes back into the room with a jar of ointment for your feet. "here -" she sits next to you, and a waft of her scent hits your nose. sophisticated and clean. she props your foot on her lap as she gently rubs the cream into the abused skin. you swallow, as you watch her. this gentleness. you'd missed it.

all your life you'd been 'taken care of' but only in the most clinical of ways. you had all the money you could want, maids to pamper you if you wanted, but it was nothing compared to being...... treated like a human. being cared for by someone who actually cares about you intimately.

"stop doing that." tashi says. she doesn't look up from her work.

"doing what?"

"looking at me like that." she tells you. she finishes and cups the lid back on the jar, and she looks at you. brown eyes.... sad. "we're not - " she breathes. shakes her head. "you can't look at me like that."

you scoot closer to her on the bed. she doesn't move away. "its the way I've always looked at you." you tell her.

she glances at you. glances down where your - her - shirt has slipped off your shoulder and its bare. so close to her mouth. she'd pressed alot of kisses there. left alot of marks.

"things have changed." she tells you. "you know that - you're responsible for it."

you place a hand on her thigh, just under her robe. lean in. "i know and im sorry." you slip to the floor then, on your knees before her. "i didn't mean any of it." you tell her, looking up at her. "i miss you, tashi. i miss art. i miss - us. i - i want you back."

tashi looks down at you. her hand comes out and she catches a strand of your hair between her fingers. rubs it. "you're married."

"I'll leave him."

her eyebrows jump. "you've been a very bad girl to me and my husband."

the way she says it.... bad girl. familiar warmth pools between your legs.

"i know." you whisper. "and im sorry." you lean more forward, and her legs slide open - her robe inching up her thighs. she watches you. heat in her eyes. she still wants you. yes. "let me make it up to you - to you both - i will - you know i can."

she studies you for some time. then she parts her legs wider. "show me, then. show me how sorry you are."

you dont have to be told twice - ducking your head down - diving between her soft thighs - you moan when you discover she's not wearing any panties. your mouth finding her pussy already wet and slick.

more wet than usual - but when you pull back - her hand comes down - tangles in your hair to keep you pressed against her bare cunt. you look up and meet her eyes as you allow your tongue to investigate - "that's it." she purrs. "you know what to do with that tongue -"

you gasp when you part her folds - a warm flood of salty fluid pouring into your mouth. a zap goes through your body at the realization.

arts cum.

she sees you realize it and bites her bottom lip. rocks herself into your face. "he's been so pent up lately." she tells you, hooks one of her long legs over your shoulder. "and its your fault - so -"

her nails dig into your scalp - "clean it up."

you do. whimpering into her pussy as you tongue the remaints of her husbands cum, scooping it into your mouth and swallowing greedily. you missed his taste so much. you wish he was here, pushing you into her pussy. slipping a hand down your shorts to pet through your wet slit. he'd make you eat every last drop before he sank a finger inside.

when everything is gone, tashi adjusts her grip. using you now. rubbing her clit against your nose and working her hips against your mouth exactly how she likes it. "fuck." she pants. she looks down at you and both her hands cup your cheeks. her thumbs rub into the skin. "pretty girl -" she breathes, and you whine, "this is what - fuck - what your mouth should be doing - instead of running off online -"

her grip turns vicious - her movements more forceful. properly fucking your face with her pussy. you just lay your tongue out and take it.

"you're such a goddamm brat." she hisses and her clit pulses as she starts to cum. "but - god, i missed you. yes -"

you lap up everything she gives you. eagerly. her hands carding through your hair as she comes down. she sits up, detaching your lips from between her legs and you look at eachother, lost in a moment together.

her fingers trace your wet mouth. and you part your lips for her instantly. looking up at her like shes a goddess - because she is. she strokes across your tongue with her fingers. your eyes flutter as you start to suck around the digits. mouth blessedly full. you bob your head up and down them, taking her past the knuckle.

your teeth catch on her wedding band and her breath hitches when you swirl your tongue around it. her mouth parted in wonder - like she cant believe you're really here again.

this is where you should be. always. at either her or arts feet. taking some part of them inside you. its what you're meant for. not money and wealth and jewelry but this. this, this, this.

tashi pulls her fingers back suddenly. her ring clicks against the back of your teeth.

her face shudders. closes off.

"that -" she licks her lips. "that shouldn't have happened." she stands, and you fall back on your ass. look up at her dumbfounded.

"tashi -"

"a mistake." she retightens the sash around her waist. rubs a hand down her face. looks down at you. winces. "don't cry."

but how can you not?

"but we just.... you said -"

"do you really think head is enough of an apology?" she tells you, and that tone is back. the cold one. she crosses her arms. "god, you've dragged my name through the mud. the damage you've done to arts career - we had to take a break, did you know that? he missed matches that could have changed his life. all of that, on hold, because you decided to throw a tantrum because what -" she laughs. "- you couldn't handle a break up? grow up."

she shakes her head. lips pressed tightly together. she cant look at you. if she sees your watery eyes she'll fold again. take you into her arms and forgert the past year entirely. fall back into bed with you and make you cum over and over until you were nothing but the shaking mess she missed seeing. god, she'd just cheated on art. fantastic.

"I'll help you get a divorce if thats what you want." she tells you, already walking away. "but after that? we're done. for good, this time."

the click of the door sounds like a bullet in your ears. you stay kneeled on the floor for a long, long time.

and the next morning - when tashi goes to wake you up. she finds the room empty but a note left on the bed. she almost doesn't want to read it. art is in the kitchen - making breakfast for four. because as mad as he pretends to be for her sake, he still thinks about you. cares about you. misses you as much as she does. it'll break him to learn about what she'd let happen - but only because he didn't get a chance to feel you one last time himself.

tashi was really the selfish one.

she picked up the note. read it.

i want you to know meeting you in that coffee shop was the best thing to ever happen to me. I'm a spoiled rotten brat, i know. but you taught me to be more. you let me into your life. gave me another person to love in art, and you both took care of me and treated me better than i deserved. im truly sorry for how things ended. and im sorry for how i acted after. i was hurt. i thought you didn't care about me. that maybe you never did. and i lashed out. im sorry. im taking back all my statements in an interview next week. i hope it can restore some of the damage I've done to you and art. you're two of the most wonderful people I've ever met. and im lucky to have fallen in love with both of you. im not divorcing my husband. i think maybe i can try to make it work. you dont need to worry about me, either of you, you've done enough of that. I'll be fine. love - your tinkerbell.

the note flutters to the ground limply. art calls that breakfast is ready.

tashi isn't hungry.

[ask-steven-stevenson]

[EUU. It’s happening again. He’s slightly uncomfortable. Nothing bad! Sly still isn’t used to people caring. Sly usually did stuff on his own! Now that people care? He.. is scared.]

“Uhm- I see I see. That seems like something we can work on together? Don’t you agree? I mean we can set up a small plan or something. I’m… not used to doing this but, I’ll still make a list. As for the shower. They do sound nice at times.”

[he. Sighed. Can you guess what he’s doing!! That’s right! Fidgeting with his ring. Also. Avoiding eye contact.]

“Ah. Alright. It makes you feel better, yes? If that’s the case. I can probably stay human. For a little longer.”

im just gonna.... drop this guy here again....... oh and. for the time being. teleports all of you back to jake and steven's house!!!!!

wh. oh and we're back....

//@the-flys-buzz (giving him an opportunity to talk with his son again........ cause im pretty sure harrys mod is asleep :3c)

[[THEY ARE BACK! Also. Literally.. the first thing Steven did when he got back was hug William </3]]

“Are you okay??did you sleep well? are you hungry?? I can make you food-“

[oue… he sounds extremely worried HEL.]

“Holy fuck Steven. You are going to kill xe holy shit-“

[[also!! Nods nods! Father son bonding…)

[stay-corner]

im crying. jisung wearing a choker with a heart shaped tag on it. i need him so bad.

–🐿💕

warnings: nsfw, minors do not read! unprotected sex, creampie, hanji wears cat ears and a choker but they don't come into play much, he's desperate and horny and whiny and that's exactly how i like my men, he sucks on your fingers, u choke him, he cries, all that. he passes out a bit but he's fine. overstimulation ig? idk it's also pretty nasty and sweaty

word count: 1.1k words

a/n: hanji anon it has been almost two years since you cried in my inbox about jisung wearing a heart choker and i don't know if you're still around but i'll let you know the recent bow choker jisung incident made me let out an honest to god whimper. so here's a nasty drabble involving jisung, a bow choker with a heart shaped tag on it, and cat ears. jesus take the wheel

[05:31 am - han jisung]

"faster, faster, fuck," he chants in a desperate tone, hands slipping quickly from your hips to your thighs and back up, restless and greedy as he grips your flesh, nails digging in and squeezing painfully. all you can do is moan, whimpers stuck in your throat as you piston your hips on top of his own, legs quivering from both extertion and his needy pawing.

"i'm going... as fast as... i can, ji..." squeezes through your constricted throat between pants, jaw slack and eyes barely keeping open. jisung's so hard and thick for you, you want to throw your head back and fall prey to the enjoyment, but the image of him fucked out underneath you, cheeks flushed, pretty black choker resting on his neck, frilly bow and shiny heart glinting back at you, and the cat ears clumsily clipped in his hair... god, you couldn't have mustered a more erotic image even if you tried your hardest.

jisung bucks his hips up into yours at just the right time, the impact hitting a new angle that makes you keen and pulls an open sob out of him, head lurching off the pillow from the pleasure as his eyes squeeze shut. "oh, you're sopping wet, fuck... fuck..." jisung whines, his high voice reminiscent of the harmonious high notes he hits in the recording booth, now distorted with lust and want and desperation. "please, please, faster, wanna cum so bad," he runs his mouth stupid, brain shut off, and you feel your lungs burning.

"ji, you're so... fucking... insatiable..." you groan back at him, eyebrows furrowing because you're positive that you can't physically go any faster than you're going right now, the sound of smacking skin and wet squelches and unabashed moaning bouncing off the walls of jisung's bedroom. you already forgot how many times either of you came so far, brains gradually turning to mush the longer you pleasured each other, until you were reduced to the mindless animals bucking into each other now, fucking like rabbits.

one of jisung's hands moves down, brushes your clit in its pursuit of rubbing against his pelvis and your thighs, fingers becoming drenched in the mix of both of your slick and cum. he lets out an almost pained sound at the feeling, gaze watching how the substance webs between his spread fingers, and he almost grows cross eyed at the sight, head falling defeated on the pillow.

"that word's too big for me..." he remembers to respond, fingers returning to grab at your body, wherever you'd let him. "it's so sloppy, fuck, i'm... so numb, but it's so good... fuck... make me cum, make me cum," jisung rambles on and on, eyes squeezing and head thrashing from side to side, messing with the ears in his hair, choker straining at his neck. you think it's on a bit tight, but jisung probably likes it. it might leave a small mark, and you clench at the thought.

jisung is still wailing for you, the filter between his mouth and mind nonexistent, and before you think, one of your hands lifts from his toned, sweaty chest, up to his mouth, two of your fingers slipping in effortlessly. jisung responds with muscle memory, jaw falling slack and body relaxing, lids finally lifting as he shows you his beautiful doe eyes, growing glassier by the second. his hands don't flex painfully into your flesh anymore, fingers letting go as he begins rubbing over your torso and legs, mouth alternating between tongueing your fingers and sucking on them.

"that's it.. pretty and brainless for me, ji, hm?" you huff down at him, tone sweeter, sticky and soft for him. it's hypnotic to him - jisung thinks you'll be the death of him, and he's fine with it. "you're fucked stupid, baby," you add, and one of his hands runs over your tummy, catching onto your bellybutton before it descends further, soaked thumb making contact with your aching clit. it's gentle - even in his fucked-out state, jisung knows how to touch you, knows you're sensitive, knows this is enough to make you tighten around him, make your toes curl.

his other hand slips off your thigh, rubbing up his own torso, over his soft tummy, over his raised chest, and finally finds your fingers, coiling them in his grasp and pulling them up, towards his neck. jisung blinks up at you, gaze zoning in and out, and his eyes begin to well up with tears when you finally grab his throat firmly, the feeling of the choker's frilly fabric making the hair on your arm stand up.

"shit, jisung, you're fucking nasty," you mutter, fingers pushing harsher against his tongue as you grip the sides of his throat, and the new leverage allows you to angle your hips better, descending on him harsher, over and over and over again, the sound of smacking skin and wet squelches and muffled gagging echoing against the walls of jisung's head, and he only realizes he's crying when the cold tears roll down his ears, his burning red hot ears.

jisung wants to warn you, tell you he'll cum, but it builds up so fast in his lower tummy, and he sees only bright white behind his eyes as the sensation travels down his legs and up his body, feet clenching and unclenching, hands all but smacking down on you from the sheer force of the feeling, pushing and pulling at once, unsure of where he wants you - he shivers violently, thighs and ass and biceps burning and shaking, his lungs pushing all the air out in spite of the sharp clench in his chest, veins bulging in his throat and forehead and fucking cock, balls clenching as he empties inside you, the pull deliciously painful. your walls milk him too well, and he lets another sob out around your fingers as the tip of his dick throbs, each drag of your pussy sending electric jolts down his shaft, directly into his bloodstream.

jisung only comes around again when you brush his hair off his forehead softly, fingers working the cat ears out of his strands, and tenderly undoing his choker. his ears ring, and he has to relax his muscles manually, body still tensed and jolting every few seconds. you leave a peck on his temple, hand rubbing softly at his throat, down his chest, up to his cheek, and he has half a mind to tilt his head, kiss your palm. his eyes are closed.

"you're so good to me, ji" you whisper against his skin, body lying next to his. you're both sweaty and gross, and jisung is in love with you, so he tells you so.

"... 'm love you."

you chuckle and nuzzle into him. it only takes you two a minute tops to drift off, sweaty, and gross, and in love, and thoroughly satisfied. (for now - he'll agree with you tomorrow, when his brain can finally process more than three syllables at once, that he is insatiable, after all).

sick and twisted. thank u so much for reading, hope you enjoyed! here is my inbox, where you can leave feedback, thoughts, or request an idea! here you can find more of my writing, and here are my guidelines! :> i appreciate every like and reblog and sweet word thrown my way! have a nice (and wet and nasty) day hehe~ - lunar

[vgilantee]

141omegaverse ~ pricesoap (cockwarming)

a/n i know i should be writing more xreader centred stuff but the worms!! the worms are wriggling!!

warning: knotting, oral (m receiving), rope bondage, referring to soap as an it a couple times, cockwarming

~✧ beta!soap is a mouthy brat, there’s no two ways about it. and sometimes price, as the pack alpha, has to put him back in his place

~✧ that place is on his knees with his alpha’s cock in his mouth, tied up nice and pretty

~✧ with his ankles to his thighs and arms folded over themselves behind his back, price has the beta under his home desk, custom buttplug shaped like john's knot nestled nicely in place

~✧ john guides his thick cock into soap's open, waiting mouth, and lets his knot gradually pop behind his teeth, locking soap in place

johnny is a pro at this, so despite the occasional brush of price's tip at the back of his throat, the beta can very much breathe. it's a struggle sometimes, and there is drool leaking around the knot, but he can breathe, don't worry

~✧ "sick of your attitude, gotta put you mouth to good use. such a warm mouth too, so good when you aren't bein' a brat" but price's words go in one ear and out the other because honestly tied on his knees and a cock in his mouth is johnny's happy place

~✧ and with a knot in his mouth and plugging his ass, johnny is preening at the attention and feeling. he loves it, especially with price occasionally tugging at his hair to force his wet eyes up

~✧ johnny's cock is hard as a rock and leaking, doing his best to rock his hips and get the plug to press against his prostate. "ah ah ah, pup. holes don't get to cum. just be a good, warm mouth for me while i work"

~✧ and once price cums down johnny's throat - the beta moaning as best he can at the taste and feeling - and his knot deflates, he slowly pulls out, petting johnny's hair and jaw

~✧ "such a good boy when your mouth is stuffed, aren't you? soft, warm mouth, doing exactly what it's supposed to." and johnny wriggles his hips, mimicking the motion of a happy dog wagging its tail, and he nods with his mouth still open and tongue hanging out, panting. "good little hold f' me." as price gently wases the ache in soap's jaw, kissing his open mouth

~✧ and johnny was so good, so john moves his hands down, pressing his palm over johnny's crying slit while his other hand around his knot with a squeeze.

~✧ he rubs his palm over soap's slit, knowing the poor beta is very close to coming

~✧ and johnny's head falls back, tears finally falling from his wet eyes while his hips told into price's hands. freely being able to move his hips, he shifts his heel to push the base of the plug so he can grind it against his prostate

~✧ johnny comes with a sobbed "thank you" as cum spurts out between his tip and john's ever-moving palm, making a mess of his cock, and thighs, and lower stomach

~✧ if price is still feeling a little cruel, he'll lean down and clean up his pretty, messy beta, muttering "such a waste..." while licking up the cum

~✧ when john moves behind johnny to untie him, he removes the ropes holding his arms behind him, letting soap stretch them while john pushes him between the shoulder blades to have his chest meet the floor, something johnny doesn't fight because he's always a little limp after coming and being submissive

~✧ but in this position, it gives john the perfect view of soap's pretty ass gaping a little before pulsing as the plug is pulled out, while johnny shudders at the feeling

~✧ the sight of a fucked-limp johnny, clenching ass presented, really has price consisdering just one more round. johnny is such a sweet boy when he's fucked out, and his hole is so warm and takes john so well, and it's already stretched out and prepped for his knot...

i haven't really delved into mlm so hopefully this is... yeah....

[captain-mj]

I really hope this isn't too weird... I saw a tweet recently talking about a trope of "Just the tip" porn where they promise they won't put it all the way in and then do.

Completely understand if this isn't something you're comfortable with! But I'd love a SoapGhost version (if you are cool, I might ask for other ships too)

Consent is dubious. Consent is shy. Consent is in the other room but they can kinda hear it.

Ghost was just fine with their current sex life. He gave Soap a blowjob or a handjob anytime Soap got hard. He'd think he'd would be happy about that. Unlimited pleasure with no need to give anything back.

But Soap was not. He was constantly begging Ghost to let him please him too. Ghost always brushed it off or insisted not right now.

Ghost was well aware if he actually told Soap no, he'd stop. He'd be upset, maybe a tiny bit of pouting, but he'd stop. Still, he let the little game continue.

Soap stopped mentioning it for a while. Funnily enough, he never sought Ghost out. If he really thought about it, all of their sexual encounters were initiated and started by Ghost. Ghost just didn't get off.

Soap had his fingers dug into Ghost's hair, panting and whimpering as he tried not to come yet while Ghost mused. His fingers were working him open.

In all honestly, he hadn't had sex in years. After Roba, he barely had a will to touch himself, let alone allow anyone else to touch him and see him so vulnerable. It took him this long to be able to do this. In his opinion Soap should be grateful instead of greedy.

Though, that wasn't fair. Soap hadn't even seen Ghost fully undressed.

Johnny sobbed as he came, throwing his head back. Ghost kept his legs open so he could keep going for another minute before puling away.

Soap groaned softly and his hips jerked. He looked down just fast enough to watch Ghost swallow.

"Fuck, Simon. Finally going to let me return the favor?"

"Nah." Ghost stood up.

Soap looked a tiny bit defeated before looking at the bulge in Ghost's pants. Quietly, he leaned forward, mouthing at him. "Don't you want something?"

Ghost felt his cock twitch. It was a pretty picture. But he grabbed his mohawk and yanked his head away. "Maybe later."

Soap made a sinful fucking sound. He ran his tongue along the bulge in Ghost's pants. "Thank you so much, Si." Ghost wanted to think it was his excellent head giving that he was thinking him for but it was instead the idea of later.

He just didn't get the big deal.

Ghost finally gave in though. As he always did when it was something Soap wanted. He found himself surprisingly less comfortable than he expected, but he only gave off confidence, refusing to have Soap seeing him anything but. The idea of Soap finding him weak was nauseating. He didn't want to mess up.

Soap didn't know yet that Ghost was going to give in that, so he started up on it. "If we did fuck, who would top and who would bottom?"

"Don't know."

"Guess we'll have to go by dick size. You know, its completely fine if you're smaller than me. Won't think any less of you." Ghost could tell it was supposed to be a joke but also reassurance. He rolled his eyes as he looked through his drawers for new boxers for Soap.

Soap sighed. "Simon, come on. It's not fair."

"To me?" Ghost unzipped his pants, being silent so he wouldn't know.

"To me! I like helping. I don't get why you're...." Soap trailed off. "ah..."

Ghost was big. He was well aware. Judging by the look on Soap's face, Johnny hadn't thought of that yet. "There. I'd top."

Soap nodded. "I can... use my hand?"

"Where did all that bravado go? Huh? Suddenly get nervous?"

Soap laughed nervously, proving Ghost's words. "Listen.... sure I can't top?"

"Your rules." Ghost started to fix his pants again, going back to his original idea of finger Soap until he came from that. He could let Soap think about it for a few da-

"Wait... I could blow you?"

"Soap, need you speaking the next few days. I've seen the way you handle fingers." Ghost rolled his shoulders. "We don't have to do this."

Soap groaned. "You have too much self control when it comes to sex."

"I get you off and then we can move on."

Soap swallowed and looked at Ghost's cock again. Ghost could see the wheels in his brain moving. He chewed his lip and it was already clear he wouldn't let this go until he got Ghost off.

"What if I promise to just put the tip in?" Ghost asked, curious on if he'd even go for it.

Soap thought about it. He wanted to please Ghost so much. "Yeah. Just the tip. Promise just the tip?"

Ghost laughed. "Yes. Just the tip. I promise." He doubted he'd have that big of an issue with it.

Soap was already prepped which is perfect. He laid back down and let Ghost get on top of him. Slowly, Ghost positioned himself. At this point, he was praying to himself that he wouldn't come immediately. It was definitely a possibility. Gently, he started to push in, feeling the tight walls around his cock.

Ghost hear the whine that came out of him and his eyes rolled back. It felt so good. He forgot how good it felt.

Soap groaned and clenched hard. "Fuck. You're so big. Feel nice?"

Ghost bit his lip to try to shut up and just nodded. This was so much better than he remembered. Soap always wanted more... It wouldn't hurt.

"Ghost? Wha-"

Ghost pushed in more, moaning properly. He whimpered. "Don't make me pull out, fuck, please don't make me pull out."

Soap panted. "Fuck, fucking hell. You're so big. How do you even...." He clenched hard and gasped for air. "I don't think I can fit it."

Ghost started to rock his hips. This is what he had been telling Soap no over? He started to work himself in deeper as Soap continued making sinful noises.

"Si, Simon, Simon." Soap bit his pillow and let Ghost keep going. He started to thrust in with no abandon, hearing Soap's noises being swallowed.

Ghost kept pushing. He knew Soap would tell him to stop if he actually wanted to. That's how they worked.

Ghost moaned when he finally bottomed out. "Fucking hell, Johnny." He panted softly as he started to fuck him. He never wanted to pull out. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Soap arched his back and let him keep going. Ghost heard, and felt, him come around him. He finished and came inside him.

Soap fell into the sheets and whimpered as Ghost pulled out. His hole gaped and Ghost groaned.

"Sorry."

Soap panted softly. "Don't worry about it. You can do it again, any time. I promise."

Ghost nodded and groped his ass. "I didn't mean to be so rough with you."

Soap moaned and pushed back against him. "Felt so good. So good." He relaxed into the pillows. "You got off right?"

"Yes, Johnny. Sorry for not asking."

"I loved it. Don't even worry."

[chuusmuts]

imagine having a comfort sex with enemy!diluc

smut, soft sex, afab reader, a lot of kissing and affection. not proofread so there might be some errors 😪. inspired by this c.ai.

the last post got so many notes i was shocked 🤭🤭

"your boyfriend cheated on you?" diluc snapped. he had seen you two together for years now, so when you told him about it, something sparked inside him. it was as if an ignited match burned his heart. "y/n, look at me." he tried to calm you down several times, but you wouldn't listen to him as you kept sobbing, babbling on and on about your ex-boyfriend and his girlfriend. "y/n!" his voice echoed throughout the house. "you'll be okay, don't worry. i'll make him pay later worse than you could imagine, okay? so don't cry." he hated you since you always get on his nerves, but he hated it more seeing you cry over some random guy.

but you didn't stop. you were a sobbing mess. even when he hugged you, whispering sweet and comforting words, your eyes still filled with a puddle of tears. and to be honest, it made him annoyed. just how much this bastard meant to you. so he decided to use his last option. in the midst of your crying, you felt a pair of warm lips suddenly capture yours in a soft kiss. his kiss was long, and he didn't miss the look of shock on your face.

"are you calming down?" he asked, his voice low. nervously, you averted your gaze away as you fiddled with your fingers. you were slowly calming down, but you're still frowning, and tears were still streaming down your cheeks as you sniffled quietly. he clicked his tongue in annoyance before picking you up and placing you on his bed.

once again, he pressed his lips against yours, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, silencing your sobs and sniffles. unlike before, this time you melted into the kiss as you kissed him back, your mouth moving in a slow rythm. "shall i comfort you?" he whispered against your lips. you nodded silently as you hastily wiped away your tears.

diluc wasted no time pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra, shushing you when you whined in embarrassment. "lay down." he commanded softly. as you tried to make yourself comfortable, he discarded the rest of your clothes before discarding his own.

diluc positioned himself between your legs as he stroked his cock before pushing it inside you, making you gasped and arched your back in pleasure. he began to thrust at a slow pace as he pressed a kiss to your stomach, "is this okay?" he inquiries gently. who would've thought diluc, your enemy for years was going to treat you gently? you expected him to be rough, to dig his nails into your skin, to knock the air out of you, but no. his touch was light and gentle like a feather.

you choke back a sob as you bobbed your head. you weren't making any sound at all, just a small whimper as a reply, and it worried him. diluc leaned down and brushed your remaining tears before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. he wrapped you in a warm hug, comforting you as his other hand gently stroked your cheek. "that bastard... should i kill him for you?" his voice darkening as he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.

his question caught you off guard, and you immediately shook your head. you refused to let anyone get injured because of you. "okay, if that's what you want." he swiftly pulled back and gave you a long and tender kiss. your hands quickly found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you separated your lips, kissing him even deeper.

something inside you told you that this was wrong, and you shouldn't be doing this, especially after you had just broken up with your ex-boyfriend. but the way he caressed your skin, the way his cock slammed into your sweet spot, the way his lips pressed against yours, it all felt so good. you whimpered again, closing your eyes as you felt him thrusted a little more painful.

"shh, it's okay. i'll take care of you." he murmured, gently stroking your hair as he pressed tender kisses along your neck. "just breathe deeply and slowly." as his pace started to increase, your breath became heavy, and you turned your head to the side, unconsciously giving him full access to your neck. he started to kiss your neck and collarbones, leaving tiny red marks by sucking and nibbling softly on your flesh, slowly making his way down your breasts.

just when your ex-boyfriend's too busy with his girlfriend, diluc's here to comfort you. to make you feel good, to give you the pleasure you couldn't receive, and he's here to make sure you feel safe and loved. you couldn't hold back your moan any longer when he swirled his tongue around one of your hardening nipples before bringing it inside his mouth, suckling on it. his free hand was kneading your muscles, squeezing and massaging your other breast as he kept his thrust steady.

as he continued nibbling on your sensitive bud, you felt the pressure slowly building in your stomach, and you knew you were close. your hands grabbed his hair, not so rough as you closed your eyes, ready for what to come, "i– i'm..." you trailed off your sentence as you gasped for air, head falling forward, making strands of your hair fell to the front.

"i know. just let it go." he said warmly, cradling you in his arms as he gave you an open-mouthed kiss. his gentle kisses soothed you and his movements increased ever so slightly. he gradually speeded up on the intensity of his movements until the pressure finally reached its peak, and you came all over his cock. your hands tightened on his hair as you cried out, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

a small smirk spread across diluc's lips as he watched you climax. he pulled you close and kissed you passionately, his movements slowing down a little. he looked at your flushed face, cupping your cheek before asking, "you okay?" he was proud of you. proud of you for enjoying yourself and not holding back, proud of you for forgetting about your ex-boyfriend, and proud of you for being such a good girl for him.

"f- fine..." you managed to breathe out, feeling exhausted and embarrassed with a little sprint of sadness as you steadied your breathing. diluc removed the hair that fell on your face as he cupped your cheeks before pressing his forehead against yours, all while watching you closely for any small signs of discomfort or unease. "now, stop crying. it's too troublesome."

[florawrites-blog]

Your Fault - L.hg

The evening sun cast a golden glow over the house, its warm light unable to penetrate the chill between you and Heeseung. The wedding had been called off just days before, a whirlwind of misunderstandings and hurt feelings tearing apart what was supposed to be the happiest time of your life. Now, you found yourself in an ironic twist of fate, forced to share the house you had chosen together because you had nowhere else to go.

Living under the same roof had been awkward, to say the least. The silence between you was deafening, filled with unspoken words and unresolved issues that hung heavily in the air. You tried to stay out of each other’s way, but the house seemed smaller with the tension between you.

That night, as you were cooking dinner, your mind was elsewhere, distracted by the painful memories and the unresolved emotions. You didn’t notice the pot handle sticking out over the edge of the stove until it was too late. As you reached for it, your hand brushed against the scalding metal. You yelped in pain, pulling your hand back quickly.

“Ow, damn it!” you muttered, examining the reddening skin.

Heeseung, who had been passing by the kitchen, rushed in when he heard your cry. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You turned away, trying to hide your tears of frustration more than the pain. “I’m fine,” you snapped, though it was clear you weren’t.

Heeseung ignored your protest and gently took your hand, examining the burn. “This looks bad. Let me get some ice,” he said, heading to the freezer.

You pulled your hand back, not wanting his help. “I said I’m fine, Heeseung.”

He sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, he grabbed a clean cloth, wrapped some ice in it, and handed it to you. “Here, at least take this.”

Reluctantly, you accepted the makeshift ice pack, pressing it against the burn. The coolness provided some relief, but it did little to soothe the turmoil inside you.

“Why are you even here?” you suddenly blurted out, the frustration you had been holding back breaking through. “This is all your fault! If you had just listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

Heeseung’s face hardened, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. “My fault? You’re the one who jumped to conclusions and wouldn’t give me a chance to explain!”

The argument escalated quickly, both of you throwing accusations and hurtful words at each other. You could feel the anger and pain boiling over, and before you knew it, you were hitting his chest repeatedly, each strike punctuating your words.

“How could you do this to me? To us?” you cried, the tears streaming down your face. Your hands were shaking as you continued to hit him, your voice breaking. “I loved you, Heeseung! I still do, and it hurts so much!”

Heeseung stood there, taking each hit without flinching. His eyes were filled with pain and regret, but he didn’t move to stop you. Finally, when you were too exhausted to continue, he reached out and pulled you into his embrace. You struggled at first, but his hold was firm and gentle, a silent offer of comfort.

You collapsed against him, your tears soaking his shirt as you broke down completely. The sobs wracked your body, the weight of everything that had happened crashing down on you all at once. You clung to him, your fingers tangling in his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

Heeseung held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as he whispered soothing words. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You stayed like that for what felt like hours, the fight forgotten as you both let out the emotions you had been holding in. Your fingers ached from the tension, and you almost felt like yanking your hair out in frustration and sorrow. But Heeseung’s arms around you were a steady presence, grounding you in the moment.

“I don’t know how we got here,” you whispered through your tears, your voice trembling. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Heeseung replied softly, his voice filled with determination. “Together. We’ll talk, really talk this time, and we’ll find a way.”

As you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you felt a glimmer of hope. The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time since the wedding had been called off, you felt like you might be able to navigate it together. The road to healing would be long, but with Heeseung by your side, you knew you could take the first step.

Please don't steal or copy , thank you

[three-realms-archive]

Beel is Anime

Levi is torn. Very, very torn about whether he should intervene with the scene happening before his eyes.

On one hand, what was happening was definitely anime-related. A laptop, a phone and some DVD-playing screen; all playing a different genre of anime. There was a now-empty Akuzon package on the floor with a receipt for ‘anime cosplay waifu makeup eyeshadow palette and brush set with manga kawaii sticker set’ taped to the top. The contents of said-box were laid strewn on the coffee table, being used by the last brother he expected to share his interests. At least, not without some limited edition snacks or a themed-cafe involved. Despite that, Leviathan’s heart soared! His little bro was finally seeing the light and appreciating the wonders of anime! Maybe they could cosplay together; eat at maid cafes together; read manga, have hotpot, and all the other things he knows families do from the stories he’s read or watched before.

On the other hand, his second-youngest brother, Beelzebub, was currently dipping his fingers in what looked to be makeup primer (from the bottle label) and putting it in… his hair? Like gel. Making a mess of the whole… whatever this thing was. Smothering foundation on his lips before outlining them in eyeshadow; fumbling with coloured contact lenses, only to stick them with… lash glue? On his eyelids???

The whole thing looked like it required at least twenty content warnings. Plus a message telling kids to not try this at home.

Suddenly, Beel turned around. Of course he did. He was standing in front of a mirror, and could one-hundred percent see his older brother’s mortified face in its reflection.

“U-Uh… B-Beel. Beel!” Levi couldn’t really decide on what to say. Or even what tone of voice to use. “Beel, uh… What, um, are you up to?”

“Bro.” The sixth-born nodded in acknowledgement. One of the eyelid contacts fell off as he did so. “Have I done it right?”

Levi gulped, his hands getting clammy. What was he meant to say? To any of this?!

“D-Done what, Beel?”

“Cosplay. I thought we could go to the upcoming Ruri-chan pop-up cafe together. So I’m gonna dress up like Ruri.” Beel announced, holding up his arms in a ‘T’ shape. He had painted the sleeves of his shirt. Levi’s eyes fell on the paint bucket by Beel’s feet. Literal paint. Literal, thick, still wet paint. It was so much worse than Levi initially thought. “I saw on a poster that if you cosplay as Ruri-chan, you get free dessert.”

Levi blinked.

“Y-You’re cosplay - this is Ruri-chan?”

“Yup. If I want to cosplay, I just have to be anime, right?” Beel shrugged. “‘I am anime.’ That’s what you always shout when you cosplay in your room.” He explains simply, still in the ‘T’ pose. Levi’s eyes go wide and he immediately flushes a deep red, holding his hands to his face and trying to hide behind his arms.

“WHAT?! How did you - ? Y-You weren’t meant to hear…! GAH!!!” He groans loudly in defeat, sinking to the floor with his head in his hands; any further words muffled.

“It’s okay, Levi. I get it.” Beel reassures fondly, reaching down to pat his brother’s shoulder. Levi’s embarrassed stammers turn to horrified shrieks when he hears a wet squish, realising that Beel had also put foundation on his hands, which now were rubbing it into his favourite hoodie. “The Fangol team does chants to hype up before big games, too. I’ll chant it, too - and you can rate it.”

… Levi sobs helplessly as Beel takes a deep breath, and opens his mouth.

_

Lucifer nods, satisfied as he roams around the House of Lamentation, passing by each door. After all the nonsense last time, he’s banned anyone from using loud speakers without his permission… And he’s also banned Beel from ever touching a paintbrush. His hungry, little brother seemed to be behaving himself since then, so all was good.

Or so he thought. He’s checked all the rooms, so he decides to reward himself with a nice, long shower before he has to head back to his study to finish off more paper work. It’s the only room he hasn’t checked, too; which was convenient.

Lucifer approaches the bathroom. He hears a mix of Beel chanting “Beel is anime!” and Levi’s horrified wailing. The smell of paint fills his nostrils.

… He leaves. That shower can wait.

(i will never get tired of this series. the usual: beel being adorkable and confused, lucifer being absolutely done, and horrible, horrible art. one of these days, i swear i’ll write lucifer being cool and suave and stuff. but today is not that day.)