#holding it or being held it is still a leash

[swordduels]

Circe was halfway through a second portion with added potatoes and some salad on the side when Regalia spoke up. It was a bluff. Regalia wouldn’t let her go that easily. Not only because of her unhealthy obsession but also the constant need to gain more power by any means possible. They both knew Circe’s abilities were an asset that prevented Regalia from fading away into dust and she had been given a false identity that would keep authorities away, unless something else were to happen. If her lover had lived on the street for Gods knew how long it would stand to reason this was more or less a sanctuary until something better was available. With how desperately Regalia sucked energy from Circe it stood to reason there were no other people directly involved. The people online were still distant and couldn’t go out following orders unless they were lured into becoming a loyal puppet or an employee of sorts. All of this was of course speculation on her part but she had a hunch those speculations were close to what went through Regalia’s scheming mind. “So if I decided to leave your growing imperium, where would you go?” Circe’s voice was sugary sweet as she met her golden gaze. The steaming cup of coffee was held between both hands while she blatantly avoided Regalia’s assumptions about her feelings regarding  sexual exploits and OnlyFans. Circe had already made it clear how enjoyable she found their time together. It should have been made obvious already with the way she gave away her body freely. Regarding OnlyFans it had honestly been quite exhilarating to tease and expose herself. She had found out a lot more about herself and Regalia that previously had not been explored. They had been like animals in heat despite being caught on film. All of that was very raw with her earnest desires on display. There was no regret or shame and she didn’t mind going at it again after some rest. What did concern her was how the account would be received if any of her colleagues or future clients found it. But leaving the platform wouldn’t remove the erotic material. Internet was forever after all… Circe took a sip of her coffee while studying Regalia. Her lighthearted tone couldn’t hide the seriousness of their conversation with heavy implications dripping in each sentence. Regalia was not taking this lightly anymore. This was progress. She didn’t want to be treated with anything but respect when talking about these issues. “Disgust is a very heavy word, darling.” She spoke with sincerity before taking another sip. “I’m concerned about what it will develop into and how I’ll fit into it. I can’t have sex with you twenty-four seven and I don’t want to either. Besides, I won’t be able to give you more energy if you won’t let me rest. My other concern is with how the reputation of OnlyFans could affect my actual job. Would anyone take me seriously if they knew I was taking part in illicit material online? Women of today are still shamed for being sexually active or taking part in sex-work.” Circe tapped the cup while looking down into her coffee. “And there won't be more bodies or anything else that could get me arrested?” There was an emphasis on ‘me’ as Circe suspected all blame could potentially go to her while Regalia slipped away scott free. Despite being obsessed with holding her wives on a leash she also had the habit of dropping people when a situation turned dire.  Of course she aimed for more. Nothing would satisfy Regalia as she was the very essence of greed. As such she always craved more and worked hard to reach it. Even at her peak she would keep searching for something to fill that hungry void. Circe nodded while finishing her coffee. She watched her swiping the commentary while talking about dominance. There it was. Regalia’s insatiable hunger. While watching her she could feel the growing strength with each growing number. The tense expression seemed to fade as she indulged in her success by swiping and staring down at the screen.

A thick silence followed with the news report being heard as background voice. Details about several bodies with missing hearts being found were being discussed. Theories of cult activity or a serial murderer was tossed around while everyone wondered if the missing hearts held a religious symbolism. Others claimed it had something to do with the murderer’s mentality. If only they knew it was a serial killer who used hearts to gain energy to keep on living. It then occurred to her that Regalia’s murders were also to keep Circe quiet and complicit in what was going on. Both hands gripped harder around the cup while she kept studying her. As much as Circe tried to convince herself of the opposite she wouldn’t throw Regalia out to the streets and even if she did it would probably backfire.

There wasn’t much to be done at this moment.as Regalia had forced her hand for protection and Circe couldn’t speak out about it without being arrested for obstruction of justice which made this a standstill until one of them backed down. Another option was to turn Regalia into an animal but it would be too obvious if she tried it right now. Besides, Circe didn’t want this to end right now. “If you are done buttering me up with sweet talks after threatening me you owe me for giving you a new identity, food, a roof over your head and food. Not to mention all the hours we had sex.” Circe left her chair and walked over to Regalia. She bent down and grabbed her hair. “If you want to sleep in my bed and sit at the table you have to clean up my bedroom, change bed sheets and take care of the dishes. No more phones until you are done.” She held out one hand to give Regalia the option to freely give it to her. @fallesto

She took a bite from her plate, chewing thoughtfully. “You know, you could always continue to help with my social media growth. The more you post, the more power I get. Plus it’s not like you don’t enjoy it. And if you don’t want to be involved, I can always find others who are eager to be a part of this.” She watched as Circe’s eyes shot up to hers, the challenge unmistakable.

This was the problem.

Her powers need people within a certain range, something that had caused issues in the past, now even more, a little bit hard to travel with fifty people now and keep them close and out of sight, now she could not take a gamble, she breathed out, sighing, almost tired from the display of power, nothing more than a song and a dance, a little taste and it was nowhere near dangerous to a witch, she needed more, so much more than this.

Thousands already, but she needed more than this, she needed to piggyback off the hearts and create a network, she needed some in range of this apartment building and the witch had many people who worked for her and knew her, making them fall for her, would be easy, and then spread it like cancer, like a plague, which was happening, but this was only the start. As she licked the blood, showing her, that a thousand years alone, beaten, broken and forgotten, whatever sanity that she might have had.

Truly it had slipped away with the passage of time.

The tension in the room thicken as she took in the words. It was clear that her power was tied to the attention and lust of her followers. The more popular she became, the stronger she grew. This was a game Circe had never anticipated playing, but she wasn’t about to let her guard down now and she knew this. She knew that her hunger for power was insatiable. 

If she didn’t keep her in check, who knew what she would do next.

“My  power is quite the parasitic nature, and it disgusts you?” She commented, trying to keep her voice light despite the heavy implications. She took a sip of coffee, watching as her eyes narrowed slightly. “There is nothing more than can link back to you and out you in danger.”

As she scoffed, swiping at her phone. “I need more than what I have, I cannot be content, why content is for the weak. I aim for dominance. And with your help, my dear, I shall have it all.” Her eyes glinted with ambition as she tapped away on her screen. The numbers grew at a dizzying rate, each new follower adding to her aura of power.

The sound of the report grew louder, the reporter’s voice cutting through the silence as they discussed the latest celebrity scandal. It was a stark contrast to the dark reality unfolding in the kitchen. Her eyes remained glued to her phone, the screen casting a sickly blue light on her face as she devoured the power her followers provided. With each new notification, Circe could see the lines of tension around Regalia’s eyes smooth out, as if her very existence was being validated with every like and share.

And then looked up from her phone, her eyes gleaming. “You’re worried about me? How sweet.” She took a moment to swallow her food before continuing. “But you see, with great power comes great responsibility. And I assure you, I know exactly what I’m doing. Besides, isn’t this what you wanted? To have some fun, the look on your face, tells me you have been bored for some time and if you wanted me gone, you would not have made me something to eat, so I will be staying, until you tell me to leave, which I believe will not happen.”

[bittersweetresilience]

6 for you beloved 💜

HI NINA BELOVED... i just woke up from a 5 hour nap and it's 1 in the morning and i'm like whuhagasga. perfect time to be on tumblr.

6. Favorite title you used?

my titling for honkai has actually been ALL OVER THE PLACE HAJFLDKFSAFJKA because i find titling tiring and boring so i usually just listen to a bunch of songs and gather a bunch of appropriately titley lyrics in advance and then just dump them all in a list and refer from the list when i need it. except all of the songs i listened to before were félix songs. so i used those indiscriminately on renjing fics as long as the vibe of the title itself worked regardless of whether the underlying songs actually fit 😂😂😂

with that said my favorite is probably and i get the feeling that i'm living. makes me real sad but that's exactly the feeling i want from a major character death road trip fic. living again before the end. i have to lie down 🛌 AND it's actually from a renjing song for once 🤣🤣🤣

[aria0fgold]

The Alterego AU of mhyk injected Snow and White thoughts into my brain cuz of how insane Cain and Snow's relationship in that AU is making me whenever I think about it. It's just so good in the sense that Snow is 100% on board with influencing Cain Terribly and how Cain is also just Way Off than how he is in canon but it's Still Him. The biggest difference is that Snow is allowing Cain's negative traits to be displayed openly while Arthur is actively Ignoring those negative traits and so Cain has to Hide any negative traits just so Arthur doesn't have to see any of it.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, virginity loss, degradation, abuse of power, Christianity, blasphemy, medieval times, corrupt priest, torture devices, abuse, punishment, misogyny, public humiliation, execution of non-named characters

♡ FEM reader

A scold's bridle, sometimes called a witch's bridle, a gossip's bridle, a brank's bridle, or simply branks, is an instrument of mirror punishment utilized by the church to publicly humiliate women who speak out of turn.

And you’ve unfortunately been deemed one of them…

You can only regret it now—wish you’d kept your mouth shut—wish you’d just held your tongue and spared yourself the poetic justice. You’d even been warned—that’s the dumb part, the part that makes the regret even more bitter. You’d been told gossipping would only land you in a world of hurt, and you, brave-faced and foolish, had ignored the advice. And now you’re facing the consequences.

Branks, an awful contraption, act as a muzzle in an iron framework, caging the head—quite like a helmet—a heavy helmet. Tight and trapping, it’s enough to make your head ache after a mere minute of wear. But that’s not the worst part. No, the worst part is the bridle-bit—a metal wedge about two inches long and one inch wide in size, of which they slide into your mouth, pressing down on top of your tongue—silencing you entirely. 

But being unable to talk is only the first and least of many discomforts—as it also makes your jaw cramp up, and makes a humiliating amount of drool run wild down your chin—making you look like some or other rabid street mutt that’s ben muzzled for its own good.

The chunky metal collar you’re made to wear doesn’t help negate that imagery, nor does the bell attached to it—drawing in the crowds to the town square where you’ve been put on display, fastened to the tron for public judgment and ridicule.

Oh, and they are full of it today.

Standing there, an army of justice—warped faces and pointed fingers. The kids throw rotten fruit, and the elders fouler words—calling you a Jezebel. 

At least you’re not alone up there but sharing the burden with a handful of other miscreants. One’s bent over in the pillory beside you—another three stand next to him up on the gallows, shaking in their piss-soaked boots, noose loosely around their necks—soon-to-be hangmen. 

Thank God the worst things are thrown their way—at least they’ll be set free of it soon. 

The poor sinners hang there still as the sun starts to set and most of the crowd’s gone home for the day, crows picking at the jelly of their dead eyes while the town’s church officer leads you away by leash.

With your hands and arms bound behind your back, you stumble barefoot and gracelessly through the streets—yanked along all the way from the town square up the hill to the church at the top for your final ruling. 

You’re made to kneel on the cobblestone where the clergyman chains your iron collar to the wall.

You’d always pitied those put in the jougs, though you’d also thought them deserving—never knowing you’d be one of them someday. Now you know first-hand what being deserving means. In a town as small as this, where word travels as quickly as you can speak them, only a few ill thoughts will turn everyone against you.

Everything is in a state of discomfort, but at least you’ve finally escaped the town people’s heckling—now secluded in the peaceful quiet of God’s house to reflect in solitude. 

Or… at least, that’s the standard procedure for such offenses.

“Alright then, little magpie,” the church officer announces while unscrewing the cruel headpiece.

It’s surprising. You’d for sure thought he’d leave it on. It was your understanding that it’s common for the scold to wear the bridle until morning and only then be freed. 

But in any case, be it by pity or mercy, you’re ever grateful nevertheless and won’t complain. 

But then, promptly after freeing your mouth from the bit, the man takes hold of your exhausted jaw and gives you a grave warning in its replacement, “Speak out of turn again, and it will go back on for another day in the tron.”

Goosefleshed and ashen from the spoken threat, you do your best to abide by it and remain quiet like the other church mice.

To which the father hums pleasedly, “Nod your head for me if you understand now, magpie.”

You do, looking up at him obediently—hoping he’d see it as enough and deem your punishment fully served, maybe even remove your bonds and collar as well.

“Good.” 

He smiles knowingly, then drops your head. Scoffing loudly, “But of course… a bitch will always prefer being free from the muzzle… Don’t necessarily make ‘em well-behaved.”

You flinch at the words, eyes wide, looking up into his gaze, feeling small under the weight as he leers down his nose at you worse than that of the crowd earlier. 

But what really makes your stomach curl are his ringed hands and how they move to his robes.

“Let’s see if this newfound virtue of yours is true and not just another one of your brazen tricks, shall we?” he suggests, leisurely undoing the knots to his drapes.

“When I’m done, and if you have managed to hold your tongue, I’ll consider you disciplined enough to return home,” he explains, dropping his attire unceremoniously by his feet before taking hold of your chin again. “If not, the bridle will go back on, and we will continue the lesson in the morning and every day onward until your mouth is as honest as if in the confessional.”

Your eyes flicker between his and peaking forward, barely withstanding whimpering when laying your eyes on it—the thing below his belly nearing your face.

“Remember now, magpie, no making a sound—neither word nor moan. I want complete silence.” 

The grip on your chin tightens, and your eyes dart back up to his. 

“Now open that gossiping trap of yours and accept God’s judgment.” 

His other hand holds it in a gentler caress from your face, giving it a few languid rubs before knocking it against your sealed lips, ordering them to open. 

It shocks you—enough to have you swallow a gasp—almost making an illicit sound that would all but seal your fate with the scold’s bridle for another day of suffering.

“Did you not hear me, girl? I said–” Impatient and roughened by his anger, he lets go of your jaw and deals a sharp blow to your cheek next. “Open your no-good sinning mouth!” 

The hand goes to your hair next, tangling within the tousled locks to give your scalp a hard tug.

Again you’re in danger of making a sound but manage to stifle it by screwing your eyes shut—quickly baring your tongue for the priest and pliantly accepting the salty offering placed upon it soon after as if receiving communion on any other Sunday mass.

“That’s it, magpie—” he says then, softer now in praise. “No more tall tales, no more nagging.” His grip eases up but remains to hold you steady as he slowly and rightfully slides his length down to the very back of your throat. Groaning, “Just be a good girl, now. Close your lips around me and suck—and you’ll soon be forgiven.”

You obey, locking your lips around him, tasting the sweat and tang, withstanding gagging as you force yourself into suckling and swallowing the foreign flavors down. 

“Good. You see?” he sighs out in a groan, pleased while fucking your mouth. 

Tangling both hands in your disheveled hair, he sets a rhythm of pulling you away and reeling you back in close—a tempo more than fair for an amateur throat like yours—only just deep and fast enough to make his weighty balls swing and graze your chin on every thrust. 

“If all a woman does is run ‘er mouth—only using it to bitch and moan—they’ll never learn what it’s truly good for,” he gruffs, sinking deeper and settling there, holding your skull in place from pulling back. “But I’ll show yah—don’t worry.”

Your head soon heats up—bleeding red and thick with it—feeling tight and trapped and in dire desperate need to draw air—or at the very least, make some sort of discomforted sound in lack of it—yet under strict order to remain deadly silent. 

“Good god, girl—I’m going all the way down that tight, hot guzzle—” he drawls, bullying deeper—and deeper. Hissing as he bottoms out, “Just the way God intended!”

His hips stutter, wearing your throat like a holster—lips stretched around his fat shaft, kissing his pubes with your nose buried in his well-fed belly.

With eyes rolling back beneath tightly shut lids, seeing spots of light in the enclosing void, you can’t help but flinch when hit with the glob of spit that falls and splatters between your brows. But at least the laughter that echoes throughout the church hall drowns out the sound of your heaving for air once he finally pulls out and frees your throat.

Maintaining a fist in your hair, he keeps you close—your temple to his hip, nose-kissing his strung shaft—struggling to catch your breath while his chuckles die down into humored hums.

“I’ve never had a throat that deep before,” he scoffs with a cruel smile—yanking your hair once again, pulling it back to make you face up. “One might call it witchcraft.” 

Another hard slap is dealt in the same spot as earlier. 

“Are you a witch maybe, magpie?” 

And a third smack. 

“Do I haf’to tie you to the stake next—have ourselves a roast?

Feeling your cheek sting white-hot, you shake your head—fighting to keep your whimpers at bay as silent tears dampen your cheeks—puffing up and rushing with blood post-strike, dulling to a numb yet lingering ache.

He doesn’t show mercy. Instead, it seems the pitiful display only makes him more rowdy—shoving you down to the cold cobblestone with an evil gleam in his eyes.

“Then let’s see you praise the Father,” he barks. “Bow and kiss his holy floor. I’ll judge whether you're a witch or not.”

You’re leash only barely gives you enough leeway to lower yourself. Hands remaining bound up tight behind your back, balled up and shaking in their knots as you bend over until your lips brush the dusty church stone.

“No, not a witch… but—” he hums, though not entirely convinced yet. “A true Christian would savor the taste of God's house.”

Your brows cinch, but you still do as suggested—producing your tongue and dragging it across the filthy tile—collecting dry silt and larger grains of sand—leaving behind a darkened wet trail on the otherwise ashen rock.

“That’s it, magpie,” the clergyman croons with a sneer. “Put that gossipping little tongue of yours to better use.”

You obey, eyes closed, continuing to lick the floor like a dog—fearing worse things would come if you didn’t. Wanting it all to be over and figuring if you just listen, it’ll be done quicker and as pain-free as you could hope.

“But do you deserve it?” he asks then, after a pause of watching you with his cock in hand, tugging it with raspy breaths getting rustier—continuing with a gritty tone, “An unwed woman can only serve the lord if she’s pure.”

His other hand returns to your hair for a third time, pulling you up by the tresses in a stinging grip.

“Are you pure, magpie?”

Goosefleshed by his darkened tone, you cower under his pointed glare. Keenly nodding your head as much as his hand allows.

Still, he doesn’t seem convinced. Huffing, “We’ll see.” 

He drops you again. Now, with a new order, “Turn and bow with your tongue back on the floor.”

You do as he says, though shakily. Gut folding and churning within—throat tight, even under the metal collar, snaring—making your head pound with alarm as you shift on your knees until you’re facing the wall with your back to him, lowering your head down until your swollen cheek neatly squish against the cool stone—tongue splayed out on the earthy rock once again—with your rear raised for the priest’s inspection.

Your nails sink into your palms in the same painful crescents as before while the clergyman lifts your greyed and tattered frock like he’s unveiling a blushing bride—and, similarly to the groom, throws the skirt atop your sloped back, bunched up with the rest of your dirtied dress—leaving your legs and thighs and ass bare to his preying eyes.

He rumbles heavily, pleased by the sight of your pretty little virgin cunt—quivering in the crude and callous open air.

Crouched behind you in perfect level with it, you can all but feel his eager leer rake through you before his finger does—slicing through your pussy-lips and quickly disappearing inside your formerly untouched hole.

You flinch, squirming at the unfamiliar feeling—breaths damp against the ground as you await the verdict.

“It’s tight,” he grumbles, assessing you with a knuckle-deep digit, before scoffing, “But surely… no true virgin is this wet.”

Your eyes widen at the accusation, and he slips his finger out again and stands up with a sigh, “I can’t make sure with a finger alone.”

Then suddenly, he grabs onto of your hanches and lifts your hips higher until your thighs straighten up—and promptly lays his still-hard and hot-blooded member to rest between the cheeks. With his knees bent, a toppling tower over you, he slides through the crevice, rubbing upon your scrunched asshole as he does.

You stir for the first time, but his hold tightens in turn.

“Keep that tongue out, magpie. And don’t you dare make a single sound, y’hear? Or else the branks go back on.”

You fall still—scared in place—eyes screwed shut as his cock falls from the peak of your ass down to your glistened entrance, prodding the small opening with the tip, trying to force it inside, but kept at bay until the narrow ring of muscle finally gave and allowed him to tear through.

“Wheew—undoubtedly a virgin!” he whistles with his head gaining purchase. Groaning at the close fit. “Taut and tight and sensitive—and just perfect for taking seed.”

Meanwhile, you suck in a gasp—tongue still pinned to the floor—only barely managing to suppress the cry that had wanted to follow. 

Choking it down, you nurse yourself through it with a string of deep breaths instead—even as he starts prying further inside—letting your cunt hold the head as he gives it shallow digs, working you open to take his full length.

“That’s it—good magpie,” he moans, pulling you back on his cock by your hips, treading you on like a sleeve. “Take it deep.”

He starts thrusting, and your breath weakens into thin stutters—tongue hanging limply from your mouth all on its own. Eyes glazed, looking toward nothing—rocked steadily as the corrupt priest pounds you like a cheap whore—sore cheek scraping against the stone floor. 

And still, you’re silent—as if having taken a vow.

The only sounds echoing throughout the church are the clergyman’s grunts and the steady fwop fwop fwop of his balls clapping your sopping cunt—almost reminiscent of the church bell’s clangoring.

“Almost there now, magpie,” he chimes from above. “Milk my cock and take my seed in your womb, and you’re forgiven.”

It almost sounds too good to be true. Even as everything aches and you’ve become certain you might just remain mute forever onward, the thought of freedom is enough to bring new hopeful tears to your pitiful eyes. So, as the warmth of his release soils your inside, it’s also joined by overwhelming relief.

A moment or more passes. You don’t take your tongue off the floor, and he remains above you, pumping his load into your deep, dumping it all at depth as if burying some dirty secret. 

At some point, he pulls out—cock now sluggish and spent. You feel its spillage matte on the inside of your thighs—also hidden as he drapes your skirt back in place.

Unbothered with his own clothes, he stands there before your bowed body—now with an accent of full-bellied satisfaction as he pronounces you free of sin in bad Latin—crossing his chest and kissing his knuckle before looking up to the ceiling at the God you’d grown sure he didn’t even believe in.

“Rejoice, magpie,” he mocks while leaning over you to untie your hands. “You’re now free to go.”

But as you lift your head, he still holds out on removing your collar. 

Holding your chin instead, he looks down at you like before, saying, “But it would do you good to remember…” His free hand taps your cheek, softer now but hard enough to make you cringe. “You run that bitch mouth again, and in my church on your knees is where you’ll end up. Understand?”

And just like before, you nod your head for him—still as silent as a church mouse eager to escape the beast’s ugly jaws.

He seems pleased with that and gives you a crooked smile, purring, “Good.” 

He then fishes the keys to your collar from his heaped robes and, at long last, unlocks it from your throat.

And by God, as you wobble out of the church, it feels as if you've been let free from hell.

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ��� GN x M INSERT masterlist

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Three

☒ Summary: Vox was getting too attached to you. You should have noticed it sooner when he began treating you with more consideration than anyone else. But you assumed it was all an act. You were sorely mistaken. You hoped that Alastor had a plan to get you out of this arrangement. 

☒ Warnings: wife!reader, she/her pronouns used, angst with slight comfort, strong hints of vox being in love with the reader, vox kisses reader on the forehead, alastor and the reader actually kiss and hug, lucifer is silly in this, jealous!alastor, reader expierencing a lot of conflicting emotions, lots of inner turmoil

☒ Word Count: 2,166

The ride back to Vox Tec Headquarters was quiet. However, Vox held onto you tightly the whole ride home.

Home? Is that what you consider this godforsaken place now? 

You lost your way, and seeing your husband tonight after several years reminded you of what once was your home. 

"Who" your home was; Alastor.

But that resentment you had for him still lingered in your heart. 

It would be a lie if you said you hadn't gotten accustomed to Vox's company. Even now, he helped you out of the car. Holding your hand tightly all the way up to your bedroom. Vox was a gentleman when it came to you. He respected your privacy, turning his back while you changed into something more comfortable. But he was also possessive, and that struck fear within you.

He was soft-spoken while he tucked you into your bed. The same bed that Vox picked out specifically for you. He knew what colors, what patterns, and what textures you liked. Taking it all into account when he bought you your blankets and clothing and accessories.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Vox cooed, rubbing your arm softly. He sat at the side of your bed, eyes locked with yours. You tensed from his touch. The conflict between appreciating his gentle caress and knowing it was wrong to feel that way made guilt pool in your gut. 

"I'm fine," You lied, averting your gaze from his. Vox's touch trailed lower, giving your hand a firm squeeze before he stood. "It's been a long day for you. Try to get some rest." He spoke calmly. Turning his back toward you before making his way to your bedroom door. 

"V-Vox," You called out, stopping him in his tracks before he could take his leave. "Yes, sweetheart?" He turned to face you, offering you a welcoming smile. You balled the duvet up in your hand. The same one the man standing before you hand-picked for you. "Thank you for respecting my wishes today." You whispered before turning on your side. Not wanting to see Vox's expression to your earnest words. 

The room was silent for a few beats. Making you feel as though Vox was seeing right through your lies. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you squeezed your eyes shut. Hoping that he would either reply or take his leave already. Your train of thought was cut off when you felt a set of lips press against your forehead. Vox's lips. 

"Anything for you, sweetheart." Before you could process the kiss Vox gave you, he was gone. You turned around the moment your bedroom door closed shut. 

Fuck. You were in deep shit. 

Vox was getting too attached to you. You should have noticed it sooner when he began treating you with more consideration than anyone else. But you assumed it was all an act. You were sorely mistaken. 

You hoped that Alastor had a plan to get you out of this arrangement. 

Alastor paced around his suite, wracking his brain on how to free you of your contract. Being on a leash himself kept him constricted in some ways, but there had to be a loophole. The Radio Demon tried to keep his composure, but knowing that his beloved wife had been confined by Vox, of all people, was unacceptable.

He never thought you would fall prey to someone as pitiful as Vox. But Alastor also knew that his vanishing without a word didn’t leave you with many options. He ached for you, truly. The Radio Demon loved you with everything he had. Even the parts of himself that never saw the light of day. Alastor’s deepest thoughts and emotions were all reserved for you.

“Hey Alastor, you in here?” The door swung open quicker than The Radio Demon could see. Alastor quickly straightened upright, clearing his throat before addressing The Princess of Hell. Who just so happened to barge into his room. “What is it?” Alastor beamed painfully wide as his patience wore thinner by the second. He didn’t have time for Hotel duties at the moment. You were his top priority.

“Sorry to barge in, but... my dad is here! Just wanted to keep you in the loop!” Charlie exited without another word. She sensed an air of malice and wanted no part of it. Alastor was a feared overlord, and she retained a handful of horror stories about The Radio Demon himself.

A lightbulb went off in his head. This was perfect- Lucifer was the answer to breaking your contract with Vox. All he would have to do was get on The King of Hell’s good side. Alastor let his shadows carry him to the foyer, being met by the sight of none other than Lucifer himself. “Uh, Charlie! Who is this?” The short man shot Alastor a pointed look. “Alastor! It’s a pleasure, quite a pleasure indeed!” The Radio Demon shook Lucifer’s hand firmly. Biting back the insults he wanted to utter due to The King of Hell’s stature. Opting to play nice for the sake of your soul.

“Yeah, uh- good to meet you. Anyway, Charlie mentioned something about a tour, so we must be going!” Lucifer’s tone was passive and short. Alastor knew it would take a bit more false kindness to get on his good side. “Oh, allow me! I am the executive producer of this lovely hotel, after all!” Charlie smiled widely, finding it flattering that Alastor cared enough about the hotel to offer his services. Little did she know that he had ulterior motives. “Aww, that’s a great idea! Thank you, Alastor. I’ll leave you both to it!”

Lucifer stuttered as he tried to find the words to protest. But it was too late. Charlie was already enamored in a conversation with Vaggie. “Come along!” Alastor’s smile grew wide as Lucifer treaded behind him. The moment they reached the second floor, Alastor spun around. Meeting Lucifer at eye level. “Let me cut to the chase! I have a favor to ask of you, Luci!” The Radio Demon quipped. “I knew there was something off about you. Well, cmon spit it out. I came here for my daughter! I don't wish to waste my precious time with common demons such as yourself.”

Alastor contemplated biting his tongue off at that moment because the words that threatened to tumble out of his mouth were way beyond foul. But instead, he took a breath, reminding himself of the greater good. “I’m glad you mentioned your darling daughter, Charlie! You see, she and I made a little deal of sorts! I would be willing to forfeit our contract in exchange for another contract being terminated!” The Radio Demon was bluffing, but he was sure the fool would buy it. Lucifer’s chest puffed up in defense. Alastor could see the wheels turning in his head as The King of Hell contemplated the trade. “Lemme guess, you got yourself in a bad contract and need some help getting out of it?” Alastor’s laughter filled the hallway from the remark. Not even Lucifer himself could get Alastor out of his deal, but that was beside the point.

“Oh heavens, no! This is about my wife. She sold her soul to one of the Vees. I need that deal to be reversed! So, do we have a deal?” Alastor outstretched his hand. Hoping that Lucifer would shake it without further delay. “The who now? The Bees? Fine, fine. I don’t really care as long as my Char Char is out of harm's way. You got yourself a deal, Malastor!” Alastor cringed at Lucifer’s lack of awareness. He was truly in his own world. But that worked to The Radio Demon’s advantage. So it didn’t really matter either which way. “Lovely!” With that, the two men shook on it. Sealing their deal. Alastor chuckled under his breath from how easy that had been. Lucifer was a common idiot. No wonder the state of hell was in shambles, he thought.

But with the King of Hell under contract with him, it was only a matter of time until you were back in Alastor’s arms. He would make sure of that.

A cool gust of wind stirred you awake. It was nearly three in the morning when you heard someone calling for you. The radio static laced Alastor's voice as he spoke your name. Surely you were still dreaming, right? 

"Don't be alarmed, my dear! It's only me." Alastor sat atop your bed. The same way Vox had earlier. His long fingers played with a strand of your hair, pushing it out of your face as he gazed upon you. "How did you get in here?" You nervously whispered. Slowly, you sat upright, grabbing ahold of your husband's face. His cold flesh meshed well against your warm hands. He really was here. 

"I have my ways!" Alastor quipped, leaning forward to capture your lips with his. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you melted against him. Oh, how you missed his touch. Seven years was far too long without him and hurt feelings aside, you loved this man with your entire being. "My love, if you get caught-" You whispered against his lips, but Alastor simply silenced you by stealing another kiss. 

"Nonsense! It's nothing I can't handle! Don't worry your pretty little head, I have an infallible plan to get you out of your contract with Vox." Excitement surged through you from the good news. "Really? That's amazing!" You beamed, wrapping your arms around Alastor's neck. Hugging him as tightly as possible. Your husband relaxed under your touch. Allowing himself to enjoy this long-awaited moment with you.

"I need you to hold out for a bit longer, my dear. Can you do that for me?" Alastor whispered into your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back with the pads of his thumbs. You nodded fervently. Whatever it would take, you would endure. "Yes," You sighed a breath of relief. Freedom was nearly within your reach. It was only a matter of time. Suddenly, a knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. 

"Sweetheart? Are you awake?" 

Fuck, it was Vox. 

You frantically pulled away from Alastor's embrace. Presenting him with a frightened look. "Go, now!" You nervously hushed, giving him one last kiss before he stood. Alastor's classic grin remained, but his eyes were full of remorse for you. He hated to leave you here like this, but there was no other way. Just a little bit longer. Alastor whispered a small "I love you" before his shadows enveloped him. Whisking The Radio Demon away right in the nick of time.

Moments later, your door swung open. Revealing a worrisome Vox. "Sweetheart, why didn't you answer me?" He quickly made his way to your side. His slender fingers grasped your chin. Vox tilted your head every which way, scanning for any abnormalities. "I-I'm sorry! I had a nightmare... so I was still pretty out of it when I heard your voice." You lied. Trying your hardest to force a smile his way. Vox's expression softened from your confession. 

"You see, this is why I insisted on installing cameras in your room. I would be able to get here sooner at times like this." Vox sighed, pulling you into his chest. His arms enveloped your waist. "No cameras in here, you promised..." You mumbled into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his frame loosely. If you were entirely unresponsive, Vox would know you were being furtive. So you played your part. Whatever it would take, right?

"I did promise. You're right, sweetheart. But the offer still stands." Vox squeezed you tighter. The embrace bordered the lines of discomfort from how he held onto you. All you could do was nod against him, hoping he would release you sooner rather than later. "I-I know, thank you." It felt like pulling teeth, forcing out those words. Slowly, Vox pulled away. He gently pressed your shoulders down before tucking you back into bed. 

"Try to get some more rest. It's still early, sweetheart. If you have another nightmare, just call out to me. I'll be here." Vox pressed another kiss to your forehead before standing up. He walked over to the chair that resided in the corner of your room. Vox made himself comfortable, gaze never once faltering from you. You squeezed your eyes closed. Forcing yourself to doze off despite the pressure you felt from his watchful gaze. 

Alastor had remained outside your bedroom window. Overhearing your and Vox's entire conversation. His blood was boiling. Is this what you've had to endure for all these years? Alastor clawed at the side of the building right beside your window. His anger was only building the more he replayed the air of discomfort you illuded. Vox made a grave mistake thinking he could win you over.

You were his wife, and he would remind Vox of that fact. It was only a matter of time. 

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts

[angelsrcute]

You said dom reader is okay so I am LAYING MY BRAINROT ON THE TABLE—

I'd like to respectfully request Overblot Boys (sans Riddle) being dominated by the reader (preferably afab & gn, there's so much submissive fem reader stuff out there & I want rep as a dom-leaning vers).

Those poor boys all need some therapizing & to get out of their own heads so bad— so what's a better way of doing so than taking charge and making them forget how to speak by pleasuring them? Sure, they can be defiant; and they can deal with a firm hand correcting them. But good boys who admit they need help & ask for it can be rewarded with fucking until they're empty and fuzzy-headed. ^^

The only one I had a semi-specific scenario in mind for was Jamil— him being blindfolded while being sucked off. His attempt at trying to regain control leads to him getting a smack on the ass & tied up so the reader can mark his pretty torso with hickies that they press on while cooing to him & edging him until he yields.

... can you tell I've been repressed lately? Lmao-

WALK EM LIKE A DOG. 𝝑𝝔

૮𐔌ྀི ´ ཀ ྀི 𐦯ྀིა 𝐍-𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 !! ; Sub!Leona, Jamil and Azul (separate) + Dom!F!Reader ➜ cws: Brat taming, nipple play, biting, blindfold use, gag use, spanking (once), restraints (Jamil), mommy kink, crying, use of strap on, praising (Azul), leash and collar use, cunnilingus, praising, hair pulling (Leona). ᡴꪫ‎

꒰ † ੭ — Part 1; I absolutely loved writing for this idea! Though I'm still wondering about what to write for the rest, don't mind if it's late, haha! <3

❝ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 ❞ — 🪦

This man is definitely a brat, always running his big mouth off. So to make him behave you blindfolded him and put a cloth around his mouth, good, now he will finally shut up. You leave trails of kisses down his neck, biting and sucking on his sensitive spot. You kneel down and stroke his cock a few times before taking it in your mouth.

God, it felt so good, he could feel your eyes were on him— his back arching as he gripped the sheets. His moans were muffled by the gag, he tried to pull away but you held him, landing a smack on his ass. “Behave, if you want to cum, you'd have to be a good boy.” You spat out, smiling at his state. You continued what you were doing, pressing kisses on his cock and edging him! When are you even gonna let the poor boy cum!? Atleast he's listening to you like a good boy after being tied up because of his bratty attitude. <3

❝ 𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋 ❞ — 🪦

He'd be such a pathetic crying mess, your good little boy! Just shower him with praises and kisses while you thrust inside his hole with your strap-on and he's already fucked dumb. He can only focus on how good it feels, maybe being weak isn't so bad, if he gets to be in your arms. You'd wipe away his tears and tell him he's the best.

Worship his body, play with his sensitive little nipples, leave love bites on his skin— he loves it all, he'd show them off with no shame if he wanted to. He'd definitely be ashamed about the noises he's making so he buries his head between the pillow as you fuck him. Maybe this guy also has a mommy kink! <3

“Gonna cum for mommy, yeah? Let yourself go, my baby.”

❝ 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 ❞ — 🪦

He'd never admit he likes you dominating him, people are supposed to bow down before him— He is the king, isn't he? But no, you're currently sitting on the bed while holding the leash attached to his collar. How degrading. He can't believe he enjoys it!

His tongue darted out, lapping up your sweet juices. Your fingers tangling itself in his hair as you pull his head back, “How about you beg and maybe I'll end your punishment? Fair deal, right?”

He doesn't meet your eyes but whispers something you can't hear, “What was that, sweetie? You're always so loud, what's wrong, hm?” You try not to laugh at the pathetic man in front of you, you can see his ears turning red as he speaks louder, “P-Please let me pleasure you—”

“Good kitty, go ahead.” You watch as he eagerly dives back, you grip his hair tighter as you feel your orgasm coming. You pull him closer and cum in his mouth, he licks you clean. You let go of his hair, letting him catch his breath, “Well done, now, let's reward you for being good for me, shall we?” <3

[vivwritesfics]

Moon Goes To A Grand Prix

Blurb bc I'm once again sick and dying

Series Masterlist

Moon the raccoon wore his little blue harness as his mom scanned her way into the paddock. It was the Friday of the Miami Grand Prix, meaning the paddock was just a little quieter than the Saturday and Sunday.

Everybody in the paddock stopped to stare as Moon came trotting past. He walked just a couple of steps ahead of his mom, like a loyal dog on a leash.

When they got to a busier part of the paddock, Y/N scooped Moon into her arms. "Should we go and find your dad?" She asked him as she scratched the top of his head.

She walked through the paddock with Moon in her arms, heading towards the Williams garage.

They were stopped several times along the way, with Daniel Ricciardo being the first. "Moon!" He shouted as he strode towards them.

Y/N held Moon towards him and Daniel took him from her like he was a baby. He turned towards photographer's facing them, getting a picture with Moon. "I can't believe Moon is finally attending his first Grand Prix," he said, handing him back to his mother.

"Hes grown so much, I know," Y/N answered, placing him back on the floor. Immediately Moon set about sniffing Daniels shoes. "We're off to go and find his dad," she said along with her goodbyes.

The next person to interrupt their journey was Oscar Piastri. "Moon Moon!" He called the moment he saw him.

Moon went trotting towards him, happy to let Oscar pick him up. "There's my favourite nephew."

"Nephew, Osc?"

"Yeah," Oscar answered, holding Moon against his McLaren shirt. "We've got to get him in Orange at some point."

"Well, when Logan and Lando are teammates, I'll consider it," she said with a cheeky grin.

Oscar rolled his eyes in a very unserious manner. "Has he been introduced to everyone yet?" He asked as she began walking away, still holding Moon. Y/N had no choice but to follow.

Oscar insisted on introducing Moon to as many of the people at McLaren as possible.

When a little raccoon came trotting up to him, Lando ran away, again in an unserious manner. But Moon loved the chase and found himself climbing up Lando's jeans.

On their way to the Williams garage they were stopped by Pierre Gasly and Charles Leclerc, all insisting on saying Hello to Moon. Carlos Sainz insisted on giving him food and Lewis Hamilton was only to happy to meet him.

Eventually Y/N got to the Williams Garage with Moon. "Where's your dad?" She said to him and he pulled on the leash, almost as if he understood up.

Logan didn't notice them at first. His back was to them as he spoke to his engineers.

Y/N let Moon get closer. She let go of his leash as he climbed up Logans leg.

Finally, Logan turned around. He grabbed Moon from his leg and held him in his arms as he looked around for his girlfriend. "Hey," she said, grinning up him.

Holding Moon cradled in his arms, Logan walked over to his girlfriend. "Hey," he replied, unable to hide his smile as he dipped his head down and kissed her.

She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to hold him close, but with Moon in the way she couldn't. So, she settled for tucking herself into his side. "Moon and I wanted to wish you good luck today," she said, closing her eyes as she leaned against his shoulder.

"I've got my good luck charms here, I'm bound to do well."

But Y/N shook her head at that. "Ah, Fuck, Logan. You jinxed it."

Before he could respond with anything other than a laugh, there was a shout from across the garage. "IS THAT MOON?" Cried Alex Albon as he came running towards them.

It was fine, the three of them would get family time later.

[jinxed-newyork]

SMOKE & FOG

0.1 Red Smoke

pairing: jinx x reader (romantic) , isha x reader (siblings)

synopsis: Your entire life has been dictated by a debt you owe to Smeech, one that grows with every move you make. He holds your sister and you on a tight leash, one mistake leads to your sister being taken and your only option is to fight or die.

word count: 2.7K

warnings: villainous activity, murder, oppression, mistreatment, blood & gore, hurt/comfort, drugs & drug use, canon violence, suggestive themes, angst, spoilers, cursing, fighting !!

Red smoke filled the air, perhaps it was the blood dribbling that mixed with the air around it, or it was the suffocating rage from every child who watched as their parents, cousins, siblings and friends were torn to shreds by the flying bullets. There was no one who could save the poor souls on that bridge, there was barely anyone left alive except for Vander, his grunts of pain and adrenaline could be heard through the bridge, screams and cries of pain and terror came from those he faced off against and yet after a moment, it just stopped. There was nothing. Just silence. My body was hunched under a rock, shielding my little sister’s extremely frail body in my arms, she was a baby, still wrapped up in a little blanket that we could barely afford, her cries came from every loud noise and all I could do was attempt to shush her– fear and adrenaline being the only reminder of why I was still under here with her. However whenever the loud noises stopped and shooting gave out, what replaced it were footsteps. The relief that coursed through my body was unimaginable. Finally, it was over, win or lose. I didn't care, I just wanted to escape back home with Isha and our parents. 

There was a silence that raged over the bridge as I climbed out, bodies piling on top of others, eyes wide open with dread still stricken upon their face, they all looked scared as if they weren’t ready for death and yet here their lifeless bodies laid. It was sickening, a soft cry escaped my lips as tears welled up in my eyes, where were our parents? Where did they go? They were on this bridge just like everyone else so where were they? I couldn’t run, as much urgency was in my body, I couldn’t move my legs fast enough to form a sprint, I just walked. Shielding the little girl in my arms from all the pain and terror, I wouldn’t let her see this, I wouldn’t let her remember this, I wouldn’t let her grow up in a time like this– it was all gonna change, it was gonna be different whenever she was growing up. Those thoughts in my head were the only thing that kept my head up high as I walked past the bodies. The bodies of friends and our parents, the bodies of those who fought so hard for something that should be a human right, whether they were from Zaun or from Piltover. The bodies of those who fought for Respect. 

The rain is riotous, beating down on the small covers and hoods of those walking the streets of the undercity, no man or woman laid safe. One foot in front of the other, don’t look around. My gaze held towards the floor, looking around would only drag me into the reality I live in. Children on the streets without parents, working for scammers and con artists, insufferable and disgusting but we had to make money somehow. Not everyone was gifted with a silver spoon in their mouth and a warm bed to sleep in, not everyone was given private dance lessons and piping hot food that could feed an entire village for just one meal. Not everyone was born in Piltover and the price? Your life. There was no respect in the city of Zaun, at least not anymore, Vander was killed by Silco in some raging fight that took place in a warehouse and he was the people’s last standing symbol of peace. After Silco took over, shimmer raged through the streets and took over like a disease, even after his death it still runs rampant thanks to his goons. I am one of those goons, I am someone keeping it on the street, money is money and a job is a job, it hurts so many people but I do what I have to do to keep my family safe. 

A small groan of annoyance escaped my mouth. I was only 17 years old but I had the weight of another human laid atop my shoulders. She could be no older than 7 but definitely not younger than 5 years of age, Isha, my sister. I don’t really know when her birthday is, not like we could celebrate it anyways, there are no birth certificates or calendar here, so we just assumed that it's sometime during the end of the year because that's whenever our parents would say happy birthday. 11/16, that is the birthday I have written down for her, the only one we care to acknowledge. My mind filled with grief as I entered the booming building, music blaring from the speakers and the cacophony of deals being made by every wall in his building was overwhelming and sickening. I turned my nose up in disgust (not like I was any better than them), as I turned towards the office building, a high rise, with glass windows to watch over the place as if he was some ghost. Smeech, one of the worst men I have ever met in my entire life, he had no good qualities, I would have rather he not offered me this job at all then let me watch as people waste their lives trying to get even a sniff of shimmer. Good and bad news was that the selling rate was down, more people were getting snatched off the streets while trying to find buyers and the production rate was too high to keep up with the missing sellers so whoever was left had to pick up the pace. 

Caitlyn Kiramman’s enforcers were running circles around us, she made us look like chickens with our heads up off, which wouldn’t have mattered to me if it wasn’t for the fact that I couldn’t keep up. I had too many boxes on me at a time and too many lurkers and followers while trying to do my job, if he kept pushing me like this then I’d certainly get caught. With a heavy knock on his door, I pushed it open without waiting for confirmation– this was important. The rat creature moaned in annoyance upon even seeing my face.

  “What do you want, child?” The sickening smoke of shimmer made its way out of his mouth while he smoked, filling the room with its pungent smell. Had it not been such an addictive drug I would have been turned away but something kept my feet from moving, a small inhale was all I took before turning my head away from his nonsense. “Less materials on my person. I’m carrying way too much cargo with not enough people to give it to. All my regulars are in hiding because of the enforcers or have already been grabbed! I have no one to sell to and walking around with even a drop of shimmer will get people arrested nowadays. What do you think they’ll do to me with eight vials full of it?” Despite the urgency in my voice, I didn’t raise my volume or lose my cool, I knew better than that, I knew my place, I wasn’t gonna be killed over such a trivial thing. I couldn’t be killed, I had to make it back home to raise Isha and make sure that she wasn’t alone, if I didn’t do it then no one would. “You’re a smart enough kid, you can figure it out. You sell the product, you get the money and you give it back to me. You’re already behind on repaying this debt of yours, don’t make me charge you an annoyance fee.” My debt.

I owed him my life because he was willing to take me in and promised that as soon as I paid him off he would let me and Isha go however every time I got even remotely close to freeing us, he would charge me some random out of the blue fee and added it to my tab making it once again out of reach. I knew it was on purpose, I knew he was never truly going to let us go but there was a small hope in that mind that maybe one day I could make enough money so that he doesn’t expect it, so that he has to let us go. A whine escaped my throat as I tried to reason with him, as I pleaded. “But sir-” “Make it a stupidity fee, how are you this incompetent? It’s just business sweetheart, and you’re behind on your dues anyways, there isn’t much room for you to be arguing with me. Out.”

I didn’t say a word after that, I couldn’t, I took whatever strength I had that would carry me out of the room and pushed until it led me out of the building. 

Two hours later and I’ve only sold two vials, one to an elderly woman who looked like she was well on her way to death’s door, I tried to convince her that it wasn’t actually worth it to buy but she didn’t listen, something about being glad that she didn’t have to spend another moment down here was freeing to her and the second vial to someone from Silco’s old crew. They could buy plenty more but they chose not to directly interact with Smeech himself so they went through his buyers and even though we aren’t supposed to sell it to them, I did anyway. I tossed the gold coins up into the air with a smile, I completely overcharged him but who cares? “When did we say selling to Silco’s crew was back on the table, blighter?” Debt collectors, they roamed the streets while we were making deals, my head wasn’t in the right place, I completely forgot. Stuffing the coins into the small bag across my waist, I shrugged. “What’s it to you? We’re all charlatans, are we going to bypass the fact that you guys are charging children for crimes they didn’t commit to keep them in your debt? Or the old people you trick into owing their entire lives to you knowing that they won’t be able to afford it?”

My teeth clicked in arrogance, I held nothing over them but calling them out felt good to roll off the tongue, they needed to be checked every now and then too. “You’re just blood thirsty animals.” They scoffed at me, scoffed, my presence to them was insignificant, that I was aware of but seeing it play out in front of me still stabbed at my heart a little bit. “You forget yourself blighter. Perhaps we should.. remind you? Yeah?” The confirmation wasn’t for me and yet I couldn’t stop my head from shaking. This was going to end in bloodshed, there was no avoiding it but I wasn’t scared, I couldn't be scared of them. One thing went through my mind,  I have to get home to Isha. My hands raised to cover my face, eyes peeking out behind my clenched fists to stare them down, I was ready for a fight.

I shouldn’t have been so naive to think that I could fight all three of them at once, however it was the only option. The taller gentleman rushed towards me first, swinging his arms in whatever way they would move towards my body. I looked like a child compared to them, they were unnaturally tall and buff and their suits didn’t hide it at all. My body dipped towards the floor as his hands rammed into the wall, I swore I could feel the ground shake, but that didn’t waver my spirit. I struck his chest with every force in my body, it wasn’t a lot but enough to knock him back up against that very same corner, not even a second to breath as I was bombarded with another man racing towards me, his palm struck my side, launching me into the wall. It cracked upon impact and my body felt like it shattered, every limb hurt to move, with a split second I moved to the right, his second punch landing into the wall right next to me. My eyes expanded and my pupils dilated and I pulled away from the wall and steadied my body and stance once again, but arms wrapped around me, a crushing weight that stayed on top of me and kept me in place. A scream erupted from my throat as I tried to escape, struggling in every direction as the weight on top of me only got worse, it got tighter, more restricting until crack. The vials. The shimmer, it was still in my bag, how many vials did he crush? Was it seeping into my skin? My mind went blank, the weight was no longer crushing  me but I didn’t know what was happening? My face connected with the floor, was I dropped or did I hurt him? I didn’t mean to hurt them, even though they probably could have killed me. The intention wasn’t to get anyone hurt besides a simple warning. 

When my eyes opened again all of them were on the floor, blood spilled out of wounds I didn’t remember making and my hands were covered in it. I tried wiping my face but it only smeared the blood already there, what have I done? Before I could make sense of anything the screeching from an enforcer came from the other side of the alleyway. I shook my head, this wasn’t me, I didn’t do this! I was innocent! Why wouldn’t my mouth open to explain? I opened up the pouch and raised one of the vials, I still had four safe but two of them were cracked, those were probably the two affecting my mind, my heart, my body. I could hear my heart in my ears, the thumping and beating as if I was inhuman, was I still human at this point? As soon as I raised the vial of shimmer, their guns were out? Panic was sewn into my nerves, I couldn’t get shot, were they gonna kill me? Leave my body for dead? Would I ever be found? Isha. My mind went blank and my eyes were bloodshot, I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t see straight, I blacked out. 

When I woke all I could feel was crimson dripping down my hand, the puddle beneath me only growing wider, spreading through the cracks in the small alleyway. Enforcers. Dead. Three Enforcers were dead and three debt collectors right next to them. The topsiders would hear news of this soon and my boss would hear about his debt collectors being missing but I couldn’t worry about it, what was the last thing I was thinking about? Isha? Isha. Where was she? Where is my sister? I couldn’t care less about the head I bashed into the wall just a moment ago or the knife I plunged into another man’s throat or the Enforcer’s gun that I lodged into a man’s side as a distraction before his untimely death. Smeech’s debt collectors would probably be after her especially if they were after me, they knew where I was so they certainly had to know where she was. 

I needed to get back to my sister. My sister. My sister, Isha, I need to get back to her. Ichor running down my arm no longer bothered me, the ever growing pain in my abdomen only lingered as I ran and yet I didn’t stop. I couldn’t even remember how I got that injury but I couldn’t stop, my legs carried me to the last place I saw her. Three more dead debt collectors (this seemed to be a brand), shot straight through the head. Clean. Not a single mistake, completely intentional, whoever made the shot knew exactly what they were doing. A waft of pink smoke wavered from the body, it was fre- pink? shit. Jinx. There was only one person in town creating such imagery and also being such a great shot, no enforcers were in town (not anymore) and to be honest none of them were this great of a shot even if it was close range. The wanted posters of her face made her look psychotic, terrifying, right on brand to what the topsiders thought everyone looked like. I couldn’t let this go, I was still alive and the dead men meant that my sister was still out there too. 

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the very first chapter!

taglist ; @llycrow @katethejinxwife @hank-girl @ayedomino0 @jiunxo @vivispace @d-demqn

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.

"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."

He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."

You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."

It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."

"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.

"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV. 

Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"

"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"

His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."

Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.

Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."

"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."

His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"

"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.

"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"

"Mommy left some in the fridge."

Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.

-----------------------------

"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"

You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."

"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.

You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."

Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"

You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."

"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."

"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.

After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."

Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."

You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."

Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"

"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"

"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.

You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."

"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."

You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.

"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.

"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.

"I don't."

-------------------------------

The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.

He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"

"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."

He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."

Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."

"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.

"Uhhh... just some stuff."

"Natasha."

"Bradley."

"What did you do?"

There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."

With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.

"She knows the plan."

He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"

Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."

"We have work on Friday-" 

She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.

"Hi, Daddy."

He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"

Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."

"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."

You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."

Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."

You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."

He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?" 

It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."

"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"

"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."

Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."

"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."

He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."

You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."

"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."

You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor. 

"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."

"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"

You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently. 

Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."

"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously. 

"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."

When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"

"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.

"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."

You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.

When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache. 

When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.

"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."

You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"

His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts. 

"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.

"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.

"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."

You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."

"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."

---------------------------

As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it. 

"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"

"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."

He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."

"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."

With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.

But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.

"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"

You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."

"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.

You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"

"That's adoption?" he asked. 

"That's adoption."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"

The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."

"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW

You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.

You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!

Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped. 

You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head. 

When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.

You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch. 

Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned. 

You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.

"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."

"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."

"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.

"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.

"Hi, Daddy."

And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.

"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him. 

"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch. 

He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"

When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."

"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."

You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.

But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"

"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.

"Bradley!"

He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.

"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."

You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."

Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.

"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."

He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.

------------------------------

Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 61

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[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

You Should Be Sad

subby!Scarlet Witch x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: You're the last line of defense against the Scarlet Witch.

Word Count: 770

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R uses her power to make W do what she wants, Dom/sub dynamics, Mommy!kink, Daddy!kink, R calls Wanda bunny, W calls R Mommy, W calls R Daddy, R has W rut against her,

A/N: She came to me in a fever dream of 3 different night time meds while I was sick.

The most powerful being in the multiverse was known as The Scarlet Witch and the only one she'd ever submit to was you.

The wind whipped around you, dust and debris being blown around you. The crumbling remains of Karmer-Taj around you as Wanda settled down in front of you, heels clicking against the stone. Her green sea glass eyes narrowed at you as she stopped in front, looking down at you. 

“Move out of my way Y/N.” An anger you'd heard directed at others, but never you. Your face showed no emotion and you were surprised she wasn't backing down. Before Thanos turned everything to shit the look you were giving would have had her on her knees. Begging for forgiveness for misbehaving. 

“Wanda. Don't make me say it.” You threatened to use your enhanced ability to manipulate your voice. You saw the flash behind her eyes. The realization and you watched her falter for a moment. As if she was internally fighting herself. 

“Your old tricks won't work on me anymore.” She called out, trying to seem tough, but you knew better. You knew voices better than anyone and though she tried you could still hear it; her fear. She knew it would work just as it always had. 

When the two of you first met She believed your voice to be inferior to her mind. She was proven wrong very quickly when you made her get up from the meeting, introducing you to the team, to come next to you and get on her knees. It was something she never lived down from Tony. 

You raise an eyebrow, head cocking to the side. “Are you sure you wanna test that bunny?” You changed the inflection in your voice when using her nickname. You visibly saw her shiver and tense. She couldn't even say anything as she gave a nod. A smirk coming over your face. “Heel.” You commanded and though Wanda tried to fight your voice she walked forward, stopping in front of you. Looking into your eyes which already looked a little glazed. “Sit.” You held out your leg for her to sit on your boot. Her arms wrapping around your leg. Cheek finding your thigh. “There's my good girl. Now, you're going to give up on this chase. You will give up the dark hold. You and I will go home and we will never speak of the atrocities you've committed. Those are the terms of your freedom.” You threw out the word freedom, both of you knowing Wanda didn't have freedom. 

Wanda didn't know what freedom was outside of the small leash she's always been given. Hydra, the Avengers, you, Vision, Westview. Westview was the closest Wanda knew of freedom. Look where it's gotten her, right back to your leash that she should have never unclipped. 

“Please Mommy I'm sorry. Can be a good bunny for you! Promise!” She cried out. You ran your fingers through her hair. You wonder when the last time was that she actually took care of herself. Her hair was greasy and you wonder for a moment if it's because she was too absorbed in the dark holds leash.

“I know you will be bunny. Mommy's going to keep you with her at all times. Always make sure that head is too fuzzy so you never think about leaving.” After the first time you'd used your power you had gone to apologize only for her to ask that you do it again because she ‘didn't want to think anymore.’ In the moment you didn't know everything that was going on with Wanda, but now you do. She'd be more than happy to submit so she wouldn't have to think anymore. “Rut.” Wanda's hips started without thought. Little whines and whimpers falling past her lips, “You want your boys back bunny? Want to be a Mommy?” Wanda looked up at you with glazed eyes. Her head nodded frantically. “If you're going to be Mommy then I guess I'll have to be Daddy from now on. “Call me Daddy.” Wanda let out a moan.

“Daddy! Daddy makes me feel good please Daddy can I cum?” She begged. 

“Stop.” All movement stopped. “Stand.” She scrambled to get up, looking at you with a pout, upset that you've edged her. “If you actually thought I'd let you cum right now Then you're dumber than I remember.” A whine came from the back of her throat. You cupped her chin. “We're going to go talk to Strange and apologize. We're also going to be helping rebuild the temple. Am I understood?”

“Yes Daddy.” 

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @mrsromanovaa

[thestudsystem]

What about a pet/conditioned Whumpee wearing a collar, out in public with Whumper, who is holding the leash attached to the collar. Sometimes Whumper would make Whumpee sit, roll over, do tricks, even to go far as to give them dog food and call them a good boy for it.

But eventually, bystanders file a complaint to the police of public indecency and strange behavior of both Whumpee and Whumper.

When the police arrive, they find that Whumpee isn't speaking, Whumpee won't say a single word. Only shake their head and stick their tongue out at the police in annoyance.. how these men would dare to separate them and their owner.

Then eventually, Whumpee finds themselves in custody of the police, being interrogated.

"Is the man abusing you?" "Are you being held against your will?" "Is that your father?"

And Whumpee is confused, these mean people are keeping their owner in another room.. are they hurting him? no, don't respond. Don't give these people anything. they aren't your owner-

So they contact a citizen offered for special occasions to come in by police, a somebody with a case yet still opened.

It's caretaker.

Whumpee and caretaker exchange a look at each other, both not taking their eyes off each other. Whumpee in a collar sat down in the interrogation seat, and Caretaker all dressed up, standing in the doorway.

"That's them, officer. that's Whumpee."

And Whumpee breaks.

[sakashq]

can we pleaseee get something happy 🥹 perhaps like a dad!pedri fluff? ♥️♥️ love you’re work by the way!

She’s Mine. pedri gonzález x fem!reader

🤍 summary: You and Pedri had a baby girl and you can’t get over how he is as a dad.

🤍 warnings: extremely adorable fluff + baby mara ☹️💕

🤍 wc: 500+

🤍 yap! i love you guys so here’s something happy <3 congrats on being the first request anon !!

🤍 my girls <3 extra special dedication to pedri’s real wife @planetpedri !! &&. @ar4ujos @hrts4havertz @iovepoem @joaoflms @halfwayhearted 💕

Three years ago,

It had been a few days since you had given birth to your beautiful baby girl, Mara. As soon as Pedri laid his eyes on her and held him in his arms he said, “She’s mine. She’s all mine” and you couldn’t help but smile. He had been excited for this baby the whole nine months through, helping you through the entirety of the pregnancy. Even though he won’t admit it, you swear he started crying when you revealed it to him.

Months later, Mara began to babble, saying things in her baby language only she could understand. Then her first word came; Papi. Another moment that Pedri refuses to admit made him shed a tear.

Once she started to walk, she followed Pedri everywhere. If he went to the bathroom, she would stand outside the door and wait for him. He wanted to cook? Okay, so did Mara. She was a daddy’s girl through and through, begging mommy to take her to his matches. And you would, wearing a jersey that was a little too big for her with her daddy’s name on the back and pigtails in her hair.

A year later,

Mara had begun speaking in full sentences. It was kind of broken, but she still tried her best. She had grown to be friends with Raphinha’s son, Gael. While the two kids hung out, Pedri and Rapha did too. You would stay and talk to Raphinha’s wife, Taia, and both of your families would sometimes go out together as one.

You remember one night Mara was a year and a half years old and you and Pedri were having a quiet argument while she slept. Your voices began to raise from just above a whisper, waking your baby.

“Mamá, papi, are you okay?” She asked, an innocent tone in her voice. She had inherited Pedri’s big brown eyes, which just added onto the softness of it all. Naive Mara was, not yet having the capability to pick up on things.

“Everything’s okay, nena. Come here,” Pedri answered for the two of you, Mara climbing into bed with the two of you, your small family falling asleep together.

A year after that,

Pedri and you decided it was time for Mara to have a friend at home, thus became the idea of ‘Nilo.’ Nilo was not one specific dog yet, but the two of you decided together that that was going to be its name. You decided to surprise your baby for her second birthday, and excited was an understatement.

“It’s a puppy!” She exclaimed as she chased Nilo around, petting him repeatedly once she reached him.

You caught Pedri smiling at his baby and his new dog. “He’s all yours, nena.”

The four of you would now go on trips together, one being the zoo. Mara was now fully walking and you and Pedri had taught her to hold him on a leash.

She would walk him around and show him the animals, pointing at one and saying, “Look Nilo!”

The ones she couldn’t see at her height she would whine and her papi would pick her up. She would gasp and say, “Mamá! Look!” And point out the color of the animal.

The next year,

There was a home match in Barcelona and Mara hadn’t been to one in a while. This time, you went with Gael and Taia, the children wearing customized jerseys with their own names on them while you and Taia represented your husbands.

At this game in particular, Pedri scored with Rapha’s assist. Although the kids didn’t quite understand it much, they still celebrated their fathers’ goal and assist together.

Instead of his signature celebration, Pedri decided he was going to dedicate his goal to his girls; you and Mara.

[wholoveseggs]

Hello. Was wondering if you’d be willing to write about a dom Elijah with a reader who’s just being an absolute brat and he’s over it please?

Cat and Mouse

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

It's your anniversary party, but you are terribly bored, and the one person you actually want to be around isn't playing fair.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) This was a blast to write, dom Elijah makes me feral too ♡♡

5.3k words - Warnings: smutttt, Elijah being playful, dom!Elijah, rough sex, anal sex, choking, hair pulling, Elijah using his tie as a leash, oral sex, and a game of hide & seek....

Elijah was a gentleman in the most basic sense of the word; his smile was disarming, his words were polite, and his eyes were soft and caring. And, for the most part, that was true.

And to the untrained eye, it looked as though Elijah was simply guiding you to a quiet corner, hand placed lightly on the small of your back, a gentle smile on his face, and a sparkle in his eyes.

But once you were alone, it was very clear Elijah was not going to be as kind as he was making himself out to be. You had been misbehaving, and he was about to give you a reminder of exactly what happened when you did.

You were going to pay dearly for what you had been doing. And it was all because you were bored.

You had spent the last twenty minutes trying to get Elijah to notice you, and you had been failing at it miserably.

The party was his idea, and you didn't care much for them. But, like everything else, Elijah was very convincing and got you to agree. You were now regretting that.

It was your anniversary, and while you were happy to be with Elijah, you hated parties, especially ones where you were the guest of honor.

Elijah had made sure every last detail was taken care of, and he was determined that everyone had a great time, and that included you. So when he caught you rolling your eyes, or looking bored, he was quick to correct you.

You only wanted one thing out of this special day, and it wasn't something you could do in the middle of the crowded ballroom.

So, after yet another failed attempt at getting him to pay attention to you, you decided to do the only thing you could think of.

You would start annoying him.

So far, the only person you'd managed to annoy was yourself. You hadn't even made Elijah blink.

So you decided to start small. You started with little things.

You would pretend to affectionately adjust his tie, but leave it in a way that you knew would irritate him. He didn't even acknowledge it.

When he pulled you on to the dancefloor, you would purposefully step on his toes, scuffing up his perfectly polished shoes. He just chuckled softly and held you tighter, but still didn't say anything.

After that, you got a little more desperate.

You were standing beside him, trying to talk to one of the other guests, but you had no idea what they were talking about, and you didn't really care. Your hand wandered from his side, down to his hip, then further down to his ass. You gave it a little squeeze.

Elijah didn't even flinch.

He kept talking like nothing had happened, and you had no idea if you had managed to piss him off, or not.

That was until he excused the two of you and guided you away from the ballroom, his hand firm on your back, his smile gone, and his eyes dark and serious.

"Do you think you're funny?" Elijah asked, his voice low.

"Yes," you replied.

His hand was still light on the small of your back, but his fingers were pressing into your spine, forcing you to stand straight. His smile was still pleasant, but his lips were tight and his jaw was set.

You were in a quiet corridor, out of earshot of the other guests. He backed you up against the wall, his hands on your hips, holding you firmly in place.

"You have been acting out." His voice was still calm, but his tone was sharper, and you winced at his words. "You've been defiant, and rude, and you disobeyed me, and I'm beginning to suspect it's a deliberate choice."

He was right, it was deliberate, you wanted to piss him off, make him react. You liked pushing his buttons, but he was always so controlled, it was getting harder and harder to get a reaction from him.

You had this secret fantasy, to get Elijah so riled up that he would lose his cool and fuck you like an animal. To fight, and struggle, and have him pin you down, and take what was his. You had always felt safe with Elijah, he is your loving husband, he would never hurt you, but sometimes, when you were in the mood, you wanted to play rough.

And when you saw him in his perfectly tailored tux, you couldn't get the image out of your head. You needed it, so badly. You couldn't wait anymore, you were sick of him being so polite, composed, and controlled.

You wanted him to be rough, aggressive, and dominant. You wanted him to hold you down and have his way with you. You had discussed this fantasy with him before, and he'd been... not dismissive, per se, but not willing to fulfill it. He'd explained why, he was afraid he would hurt you. But you were no delicate flower; you were a vampire like him, and you could take a rough fucking.

"Yes, and?" You replied defiantly.

His eyebrows arched slightly and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Since you want to act like a child and play games, let's play one," His voice was steady and smooth, but the fire was in his eyes, and a thrill ran through your body. "You will run and hide, and I will come and find you, and when I catch you..." he leaned in, his mouth next to your ear, his breath hot on your skin, "I will have my way with you."

Your mouth went dry, and you could feel your heart pounding. You licked your lips.

"What do I get when I win?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

"You won't," Elijah said matter-of-factly.

You stared at him for a moment, waiting for the inevitable 'but,' but it never came. You didn't have a chance of winning. He was faster and stronger than you, and you both knew it.

"3...2...1." His voice was soft and playful, and then you heard the sound of his feet as he rushed off.

You spun around and tried to catch him, but he was gone, and all you could see was a blur. You began to run, your heels clicking on the hardwood floor as you hurried through the compound.

You sped all the way back to the party, stopping suddenly when you entered the ballroom, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You quickly fixed your dress and looked around. There was no sign of Elijah, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he wasn't following you, maybe he was giving you a chance.

As you looked around the room, searching for a place that you could use to your advantage, you felt his warm hand on the small of your back. He pulled you against him, his hand sliding up and caressing the nape of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair.

"Behind you," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, his other hand sliding around your waist. He pulled you flush against him, his hands roaming over your curves.

You pulled away from him and spun around but he had vanished. He was faster than you, his movements quicker, and you struggled to track him.

It was equally infuriating and arousing how he teased you, playing a cat and mouse game. He was having fun, and it made you want him even more.

The crowd of guests parted and you saw him, leaning against the far wall, a glass of champagne in his hand, his gaze fixed on you. You stared at him, daring him to approach you, but he didn't move. He was just grinning, his eyes sparkling as the music changed, and Elijah moved.

You watched him walk toward you, his steps confident, his shoulders squared, and a wicked smirk on his face. Then he was suddenly gone, and you gasped.

You searched the crowd frantically, but he was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared again, and you knew it was futile to search for him. You knew he was watching, enjoying the chase.

"Just admit defeat and I'll go easy on you," his voice was a seductive whisper in your ear. You didn't know how he did that, and it sent a chill down your spine.

You swallowed hard, and looked around. He wasn't there, but you could still hear his voice, feel his breath on your skin.

"Or perhaps you want me to chase you, to hunt you down, and fuck you in front of all these people," he chuckled, and your face flushed, and your pulse quickened. "Maybe that's what you've been trying to accomplish."

"You think too highly of yourself," you retorted, hoping your voice sounded calmer than you felt.

"You look like you're talking to yourself in the middle of the ballroom," Elijah's voice was smooth, and he sounded like he was right behind you. You spun around, but he wasn't there. "You should be careful, or someone might think you're crazy."

You were growing tired of the chase; of Elijah's smugness. You were frustrated, and horny, and you were starting to hate him a little. You headed towards the stairs, deciding that you were going to lure him to a more private setting.

Just then you heard the sound of tapping against champagne flutes. Elijah was making his way to the stage, a microphone in his hand. He looked perfect, standing tall and proud, his smile wide and dazzling. You felt your heart race. You stood there, frozen, as Elijah addressed the guests.

"It's time for my wife and I to make a toast," he said, his voice deep and resonating. He looked at you, gesturing you to come to the stage. You felt everyone's eyes on you and you had no choice but to follow. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip. 

"When I first met my wife," he said, his eyes focused on you, "I knew right away that she was the one." He smiled down at you, and you smiled back, a blush spreading across your cheeks. He pulled you closer, his fingers digging into your flesh. "She is the most beautiful, intelligent, and strong woman I have ever met. And now, after all this time, I'm more in love with her than I ever thought possible." He was looking deep into your eyes, and you felt your knees go weak. He pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, and you melted into him. "Happy anniversary my love,"

The crowd cheered and clapped, and the band started playing again. Elijah kissed your cheek, then whispered in your ear, "We're not done playing yet. Go and hide, and don't let me find you." His voice was a growl and his lips were hot on your ear. You pulled away and stared at him, your heart racing, and you saw a glint in his eye. He was still playing with you, and you were ready for him. You rushed off, and Elijah was once again chasing you.

You managed to make it to the top of the stairs, looking around frantically, trying to decide which way to go. You could feel his eyes on you, and it was making it difficult for you to focus.

You decided to turn left, and headed down the hall. As you turned the corner, you saw Elijah standing at the end of the hall, by the window, looking out. He turned and looked at you and you bolted in the other direction.

You heard him chuckle softly as you ran, and he followed close behind. You almost made it to the landing, but his strong arm snaked around your waist and hauled you backwards, you let out a squeak as he threw you over his shoulder and carried you down the hall.

"Let go of me," you demanded, trying to struggle out of his grasp.

He kicked open the door to the nearest bedroom, and stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Behave," he ordered, throwing you on the bed.

You glared at him, and sat up, you were not going to give in, not yet. He pushed you back down with one hand, the other undoing his tie and sliding it off.

The vision of him, his hair messy and his eyes wild, his jaw clenched, his hands working at the buttons of his shirt, was one that would be burned into your memory forever. It was the most erotic thing you had ever seen, and you couldn't take your eyes off him.

He smiled, and slid his shirt off, and then undid his belt, pulling it free. He tossed it aside, and his hands went to the button and zipper of his pants.

"Take off your dress," he ordered.

"No."

He smirked, and grabbed the fabric in the center of the dress, and yanked. It ripped apart easily, and he tossed the ruined garment aside.

"It wasn't a request," he growled, pushing his pants down, and stepping out of them.

He grabbed your thighs, and yanked them apart, and crawled up on the bed between them. His hands moved up to your waist, and he pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours.

You melted under him, and his tongue parted your lips, seeking yours. You moaned as he kissed you, and you could feel his hard cock pressed against you.

"You have been so naughty," he murmured, pulling away, and looking down at you. "And I have been patient, I've given you plenty of chances to stop, and now you've reached your last warning."

He pulled back, and his hand came up to cup your face.

"Be a good girl and apologize," he purred.

"Fuck off." You replied defiantly.

He growled and pulled you up, flipping you over and yanking your hips up, his fangs sunk into your ass, making you cry out.

"Say you're sorry," he growled, licking the bite.

"Never," you hissed, pushing back against him.

"You are such a brat," he chuckled, grabbing your hair and pulling it, making you arch your back.

He grabbed his tie, wrapping it around your neck and using it as a leash, pulling you back against him, his hand reaching down to your panties. His fingers gently rubbing over the wet fabric, a stark contrast to his rough grip on your neck.

"These are a little wet, my love," he teased, sliding a finger underneath the material, and running it along your slit.

"Shut up." You hissed, your legs shaking, and your pussy aching.

"What was that?" He growled, pulling the tie tighter, forcing your head back so it was resting on his chest. He looked down at your desperate expression, your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen, and licked his lips.

He pushed you back down onto the bed, pressing your face into the mattress, and slid the panties off, tossing them aside. He let out a low, satisfied moan, as he got a view of your perfect, dripping cunt.

"Looks like I've found the perfect punishment," he purred, sliding his hands over your ass, squeezing the flesh.

He reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube. Then he flipped you over onto your back, and pulled you to the edge of the bed, and spread your legs, exposing your glistening pussy.

"You can beg all you want," he said, spreading the lube over his fingers. "But until I think you're sincere, I won't fuck your pretty little pussy."

"I hate you," you spat, as his fingers slid over your ass, coating it with lube.

"I love you, too," he replied, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

He pushed one finger into your tight asshole, making you gasp.

"Hmm, when was the last time I fucked this hole?" He asked, slowly pumping his finger in and out. "Must have been a few months ago, it's very tight."

"Please," you whimpered, as his fingers stretched your hole.

"You'll have to do better than that, darling," he purred, adding another finger, stretching your hole further. His hand came down hard and smacked your thigh, leaving a red handprint behind.

"Fuck you," you growled.

He chuckled, and pulled his fingers out, and lubed up his cock, stroking it.

"Oh, I plan on it."

He leaned down, and pushed the head of his cock into your ass, and then stopped, a smug smile on his face.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He said, his voice low and dangerous. "You wanted me to lose control, to fuck you like an animal."

You tried to wriggle free, but he had you pinned. He was stronger than you, and he knew it. He grabbed your throat and squeezed, cutting off your air.

"Well, here we are." He growled, pushing his cock deeper into your ass, until his balls were pressed against your skin.

He wound the tie around his fist, pulling it towards him, and used it as a leash, dragging your neck upwards, forcing you to look at where you were connected. His other hand reached down, and rubbed your clit, his thumb swirling around it.

"Please," you moaned, and his hand came down again, and smacked your pussy.

"What was that, darling?" He teased, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, as his cock twitched in your ass.

"Please fuck me, I need you," you whimpered, your pussy throbbing.

He began to move his hips, the muscles in his stomach tensing as he pounded your ass.

"Such a good girl," he moaned, his hand coming up and smacking your face. "You're being such a good little whore, taking my cock in your ass."

You opened your mouth to say something, but his fingers slid into your mouth, causing you to gag and choke.

"Don't worry, I'm going to fuck that pretty little pussy soon," he moaned, his pace quickening, as his hips slapped against yours. "I could never deny my wife such pleasure."

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, and slid his hand down your body, his fingers dancing over your skin, and then slipping inside your cunt.

"Such a beautiful pussy." His voice was thick, and he licked his lips. "And it's all mine."

He was completely in control, and he was enjoying every second of it. The look on his face made you ache. He was so beautiful, and powerful and you loved it. Your whole world narrowed to the sensations his skilled fingers and his thick cock were drawing out of you.

He pulled on the tie, restricting your breathing, and the feeling sent a surge of arousal straight to your core. He pushed his fingers deep inside you and rubbed his palm against your clit, and you writhed beneath him, moaning and gasping. Elijah watched your every expression, pushing you right up to the edge of release and then he pulled away, leaving you glaring up at him in frustration.

"If you behaved tonight, I would let you cum," He cooed, before releasing the tie and sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, watching you with amusement.

"Now you will have to wait for my permission," He smirked. "Come and ride your husband's cock."

You glared at him, but obediently did what you were told, you were too pent up to not accept the compromise. You crawled up the bed, and straddled him. Elijah looked up at you with a smile, his dark eyes sparkling, the lines around his eyes deepening. His arms came around you and slid up your back as he kissed you, teasing your mouth with his tongue. You relaxed into him, and returned his passion, but he caught your hands before you could put them to good use. 

"Turn around, my love. I want you to sit on my cock with that pretty ass of yours." He commanded.

You swallowed and nodded. You rotated yourself, placing your knees either side of his thighs, and rose up onto your knees. His large hands went to your ass, kneading the plump flesh, and spreading it wide. You lowered yourself carefully, moaning as his cock eased into your pussy. You sank all the way down, until your thighs were touching his, your soft rear pressed against his body. 

Elijah groaned and his fingers dug in. You placed your hands on his thighs and began to rock your hips, sliding up and down his length, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. His cock filled you up perfectly, and you were soon riding him fast, desperately chasing the orgasm that he had denied you.

He watched the way you bounced, the way your ass cheeks jiggled, the way your wetness coated his cock, the way your body reacted to him. He was hypnotized, his eyes glued to your every movement. It was in these moments he couldn't believe you were actually his wife, that this wasn't a dream. He saw how much you wanted and needed him and it thrilled him beyond words.

It wasn't just the sex. It was the way you'd react to little things. How you would blush at even the smallest gestures, the way you gasped when his fingertips would graze the small of your back as he leaned in close, or the soft little moans you would make when he kissed and touched you, it made his heart ache with love and desire.

You were his drug and he was hopelessly addicted, the chase, the hunt, the thrill was not just pleasurable, it was sustenance. Every time he took you it made him a stronger, more confident, more capable man. And when you would moan his name? He was lost. Utterly lost.

His tie was still hanging off your neck, the fabric moving back and forth against your back with each movement. His fingers danced up your spine and he wrapped the tie around his fist and used it to pull you against his chest.

"Aren't you forgetting something," He grinned, licking the shell of your ear, making you shiver. "Don't I deserve an apology for your behavior from earlier?"

"Not a fucking chance," you hissed, and tried pull away but he pulled tighter and pushed deeper.

"Wrong answer." He chuckled darkly, letting go of the tie and pushing you forward with such force your hands came off his thighs and pressed into the bed, stopping yourself from falling face-first into the sheets. You looked back at him with a glare, but he just laughed and shook his head. His strong hands dug into your hips, and he began to thrust his hips hard, the smacks of his skin against yours echoing in the large bedroom. You reached back, needing to touch him, to get some purchase but he wasn't having it.

He could see that you were panting, trying desperately to stay afloat in the ocean of ecstasy he was drowning you in. But the real reward was listening to the desperate sounds escaping your mouth. You loved this, you wanted him to be rough with you and he decided to take it a step further.

Elijah let go of your hips and you immediately got off his lap and started to climb up the bed to escape but his reflexes were far better than yours. He yanked you back by your thighs and you kicked your legs to get free but that only served to egg him on. 

"I've told you to behave." He warned in a low, seductive voice.

You felt the pull of his tie again, and he yanked you backwards, positioning you so that you were on all fours. You gasped as he pushed your knees together, then he slammed his cock inside you, the angle hitting a spot that made you see stars, his other hand wrapping the tie around his fist. He used the leverage to pound into you, the bed slamming against the wall, and the sounds of his groans making you clench around him.

"Elijah," you moaned his name, your hands fisting the sheets, you were almost there, you were so close to sweet release.

You knew this game very well and you played along perfectly, whimpering and mewling as his cock stroked every inch of you. Your sweet sounds fueling him as he continued to ravage your soft cunt. 

"Such an insufferable tease." He groaned. He let go of the tie and tangled his fingers in your hair, pushing your head down into the mattress.

He was completely lost in the moment, his control completely shattered. Your words, and actions, had snapped the reins, and he was letting himself go, to his deepest, most primal, instincts. He gave your hair a hard tug, the way you liked, and your back arched involuntarily, causing him to pound into you even harder.

"That's right, beautiful wife," he cooed. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?"

You nodded, unable to form any words, your brain overwhelmed by the sensations. You could hardly breathe, your mind a clouded mess. He pulled you up, holding you by the jaw and pressing his fingers into your mouth, making you gag.

"Beg me," he snarled. "Beg me to let you cum."

You tried to form the words, but he was holding you so tightly, his cock thrusting into you so roughly, that all you could do was moan. Your eyes rolled back in your head, drool dribbling out of your mouth, the sounds of your garbled speech muffled by his fingers.

"That's it," he whispered, his lips against the shell of your ear.

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

His voice broke through the fog, and the moment his permission was given, you felt your body convulse, the intense pleasure coursing through your veins, sending you into an orgasm that was so powerful it made your limbs go numb. You collapsed forward, but Elijah held you upright. Your muscles had given out, the pleasure was so overwhelming that you couldn't even muster the energy to keep yourself propped up. All you could do was moan softly and let him continue to fuck you senseless.

He pulled his hand away from your mouth and grabbed your hips, pulling them back into his thrusts, using your spent body for his own pleasure. He was close, his movements becoming erratic, his hips snapping, his nails digging into your skin.

He let out a long, low, groan as his cock throbbed, filling you with his warm cum. He thrust a few more times, emptying himself inside you, and then slowly pulled out, letting you fall on to the bed. 

He leaned over you, gently removing the tie and kissing along your spine, his hands softly rubbing the marks he had left on your body.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his tone soft.

"I'm ok" you sighed. "But my ass is not happy with you."

Elijah chucked and propped your hips up a little, licking a stripe from the cleft of your ass, all the way up to the back of your neck. You shivered, goosebumps erupting on your skin, you felt his hands on your hips and he quickly turned you over, making you squeak in surprise.

He kissed his way down your body, stopping to worship each of your breasts, and then moving down to your pussy. He spread your legs and ran his tongue over your slit, collecting his own cum that had begun to trickle out of you.

"Eli," you whined.

He hummed in response, and his tongue pushed deeper, lapping at your cunt, swirling around your sensitive clit. He was being gentle, his tongue teasing, his fingers rubbing soft circles into the skin of your hips.

You were perfect, his angel, his darling, his beautiful wife, and he had been so rough with you, he couldn't help but try and make up for it. He knew that you could take him, that you loved the rough sex as much as he did, but still, he always felt bad afterwards.

He could never stay rough for too long and tended to give into your soft whining, caresses and sweet kisses. It was why you were his wife, no one had the sort of power over him the way you did, and you both knew it. And there was truly nowhere else he would rather be, then between your legs.

He loved the feeling of your hands tugging on his hair, the way your thighs shook around his head, the way you clenched around his tongue, the sounds of your soft moans and whimpers. It was music to his ears, and he couldn't get enough of it.

"We taste like a dream," he murmured, licking his lips.

You chuckled, and then gasped when his tongue flicked over your clit, making your legs spasm.

"So sensitive," he purred, and then sucked the little bud between his lips, his fingers digging into your skin.

He could feel the pull of your hand, and he lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, the pupils blown wide. He crawled over your body, and lowered his lips to yours, kissing you deeply.

You moaned softly, tasting the two of you together, and he groaned in response, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling at the strands.

"That's what we taste like, baby," he growled, his tongue plunging into your mouth. His lips wet and messy, his hands roaming over your body, his hips grinding against yours.

"It's so good, isn't it?"

"Yes," you gasped.

"I love it when you're covered in my cum," he murmured, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. "When your pretty little pussy is full of me, when I can smell myself all over you."

You bit your bottom lip, and let your eyes slide closed, taking in the scent of his skin, the feel of his lips, the way he was rocking against you. He was teasing you, and you wanted it, you wanted his cock to stretch and fill you again and again until you were delirious with pleasure. You'd never known someone who could turn you into this wreck so completely and efficiently, but here you were again.

"Stop talking," you whimpered, grabbing hold of his hair.

"Sorry baby." He mumbled against your throat, leaving open mouth kisses along your skin. "Are you ready for me to fuck you again, my gorgeous wife."

"Yes, fuck yes.." You moaned as you lifted your hips and wrapped your legs around him. He slowly pushed his cock back into your pussy, watching as you arched and moaned under him.

"Do you think I can fuck you till dawn?" He purred, pressing soft kisses against your neck. "You'd like that, wouldn't you baby, to be filled up all night?"

You hummed in response and he slowed down a bit, giving you deep, long slow strokes, taking his time, and enjoying the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him. He loved watching you come undone, to hear the moans and whimpers of delight fall from your lips, to know that it was because of him and only him.

This time he would make love to his wife, for however long she wanted, until morning if necessary. Because how could he not? When every look, every breath and every sound was the manifestation of a desperate plea, how was a husband to deny such a desire from a woman as beautiful, as delicate and yet as stubborn and as irresistible as you.

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[mx-pastelwriting]

Kinktober Day 12: Collar & Leash

Lucius Malfoy x GN! Reader

Summary: Knelt down waiting for your Lucius to come home an see you waiting on the bed.

Warnings: Established Relationship, Smut, Tight Collar, Leather Leash

Kinktober Masterlist

Minors do not interact!

Back straitened with shoulder held still, keeping in your kneeling position, wanting for Lucius to come home and enter your shared chamber.

Punching down every bit of excitement in you, the sound of the front door opening and closing echoed throughout the house. Bitting your lip in anticipation, waiting for your Lucius to enter the bedroom, hearing his calls while his footstep sounded closer with every second.

Coming through the doorway, seeing a smirk on his face. "There you are," he says in a tone of silk, placing his things down. Slowly walking towards you, eyes locked while stripping off his clothing, undoing every button with a dominating pop.

Silkily white hair spilled over his bare shoulders as he slowly climbed onto the bed, hand and lips inching closer. Jolted forward by his pull on your leash, Lucius's hand twists tightly around the leather leash. Head tilting to the side before allowing his lips to touch down onto yours, with his free hand cupping the side of your head, holding it in support to his rough lips.

Breaking the kiss quickly, looking over your breathless state, "Turn around," he orders sharply, sending shivers down your spine. Doing as he orders, feeling as the collar shifts around, making sure the clipping to the leash stays pointed in his favor.

“What am I to do with you?” He says, playing with the leash, feeling as it shifts and pulls, exciting you further. “Planning all of this, knowing I would never resist you on your knees looking up at me with those eyes,” Lucius goes on listing only truths, though you smile devilishly through the short lecture.

“You’re topping from the bottom. What's to be done about that?” He trails off, tugging at the leash while pushing his clothed cock against your ass.

“Live with it,” you say, teasingly through the tight squeeze of the collar, euphorically plaguing your throat. Hearing a breathy chuckle from behind you at the response, feeling the pull, and his hips becoming rougher, leaving you to his mercy for the next few days.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

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[oneforthemunny]

🦇🪺🌀

mafia!eddie, baby fic, pets.

"Get them back, Gareth." Eddie growled, one hand wrapped around you, steadying you as carefully as he could while the other held the small carrier. Baby Bea nestled under the bounds of blankets, squishy features slumped in adorable sleepiness.

"Don't be mean to them, Ed, they're just excited." You pouted, looking over at your four boys, each on leashes, being held back by Max and Gareth.

Eddie had insisted they be leashed when you two came home, held back in case one got scared by the newest addition.

"I'm not being mean to them, baby. 'M talking to Gareth." Eddie hissed through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing in a threatening glare towards his friend.

"I got 'em, Munson. Relax." Gareth rolled his eyes, pulling Lucifer's leash gently so he sat back.

"Did you give them the blanket?" Eddie muttered, angling the carrier behind him gently, ready to step in front at the first sign of aggression.

"Yes." Max clicked.

"All of them? You made sure they all smelled it and didn't maul it or-"

"-Jesus Christ, Ed, yes." Max groaned. "We let them all smell it, and they didn't do anything. Just sniffed it and whined. No mauling, no growling, nothing."

Eddie glared at her, annoyed, but nodded curtly in what seemed like approval, maybe thanks. "Sweetheart, you need to sit down." Eddie muttered, his hand squeezing your arm gently.

"'M fine, Ed." You mumbled, letting him guide you towards the sofa anyways, still groggy with emotions and lack of sleep from the whirlwind that was the past three days.

"Just give me to her. I'll hold her." You hum, sitting down gently, Eddie's hands hovering over your waist, lowering you into the seat.

"I can hold her, baby-"

"-I can hold her." You pressed, firmer this time. "Just pass her to me."

Eddie hesitated, scanning the room before he took Bea out of her carrier, holding her in a stiff, uncertain grip that had the tiny baby wiggling uncomfortably, face scrunching with displeasure, the slightest cry coming out.

The dogs perched at attention, eyes wide, a little startled as they watched you take the tiny baby, soothing her in your hold.

"Ok, I'm ready." You settled, Eddie moving a throw pillow under your arms. "Let them come see me."

Gareth loosened his grip on the leash, Diablo jumping to his feet. Eddie's harsh click came before he could go much further. "Just-Just wait, ok. One at a time, and- hand me the fuckin' leash, Emerson."

You swallowed back a smile at Eddie's frazzled expression, brows pulled together, eyes hard with frantic worry. He wrapped the leash tight around his fist, kept it short as he led Diablo over to you. His grip was tight, eyes glued on the dog as he sniffed you, tail wagging with excitement when you petted him. His snout stopping to hover over the baby, sniffing her with uncertainty, ears perking when she gurgled.

Eddie's eyes widened, ready to yank the dog back and far away. Diablo's tail wagged faster, a quiet whine as the leash kept him from moving further.

Each of the dogs gathered at your feet, silently sniffing the new baby with curiosity as you rocked her.

[sleepingelvhen]

Chains and Leashes

Vidyadhara!Dan Heng/Reader NSFW Drabble

Minors DO NOT interact

Masterlist

Just one tug on the chain leash was enough to have you crawling towards your lover. Dan Heng had a lazy smile on his face, eyes soft and shadowed with lust.

All you wore was the tight collar he had bought for you, blue and gold scales printed onto the skillfully crafted leather. Soft against your skin and it was all he wanted you to wear tonight.

You crawled towards him, eyes up to look at him, only slightly embarrassed from being completely naked before him. It was easy to ignore the feeling in favor of feeling your heart surge from the praise Dan Heng held in his eyes.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, spreading his thighs to allow you to sit between them. “Are you comfortable?” His fingers hooked beneath the collar.

 “It’s not too tight, is it?” Concern laced his words, every part of him desiring to focus on you and how you were feeling. Even if this was about exploring his own hidden desires.

You shook your head, smiling up at him, excitement making you wiggle your body in place. You had been shocked when Dan Heng had admitted to you that he wanted to see you in a collar. Even more so when he said that he was a pretty possessive person deep down, desires and urges that he kept hidden due to the dangerous nature of them. But it had also been an exciting discovery that you were ready to help him explore. 

Dan Heng gave a small tug at the leash, guiding you up and onto his lap, curling the chain leash around his other fist. He was blushing wildly, hesitant as he guided you. He held his breath, worried he would hurt you but enchanted by your body and how that collar looked on you. It was like he completely owned you, it was a symbol that you belonged to him and only him. His nostrils flared at that thought, eyes darkening even further.

You swore you saw his suppressed Vidyadhara powers emerging, pupils thinned into slits, glowing blue as they roved over your entire body. But he was still holding back. His hands tightened around the chain, his jaw clenched, breath shuddering with each exhale. 

Determination drove you to climb into his lap, straddling him, your bare body pressed against his body and his bulge. His sharp eyes followed your every movement, deep, heavy breaths causing him to tug tighter on your leash, causing you to cough out a little bit.

Maybe if he was in his right mind, he would’ve been more worried, but seeing you like this, completely at his mercy, Dan Heng simply found himself finding it harder to hold back. His hardness made it hard to focus on his body’s reaction. Antlers shimmered on the crown of his head, teal colors shimmering beneath his now longer hair. You could feel a long appendage wrap around your waist, a glowing scaled tail holding you against him.

“I–” He blushed and looked away for a moment, embarrassed by the changes he was unable to control. “I’m sorry, this is…”

You bit your lip, arching your back to press your chest against him.

“It’s okay…I like it,” your mouth curved up, your heart warm when you saw his eyes soften to look upon you. It seemed to relax him to know you enjoyed his own excitement. 

“You do?”

You nodded, and lifted your chin, allowing him a better glance at the collar that looked perfect around your throat. The decorations upon it are of a Vidyadharan theme, colors related to his own colors. It made it even more perfect, made him even more possessive of it and you.

“There’s no need to hold back. We have a safe word, I will be fine,” you said, eyes kind while you stroked his face. Dan Heng pressed his cheek into your touch, comforted by your love.

He straightened up, tugging on the chain to pull you against his chest, breathing shallow as he stared at your naked form. A shadow passed over his teal eyes, sharp and possessive.

“Then I will show you what I want,” he said sternly, one of his hands going to the back of your head, fingers digging into your hair. “I cannot wait to see your face contorted in all the pleasure only I can give you.”

He tugged you into a rough kiss, his tongue gentle but commanding as he took control of you. It was addicting, he was addicting. Allowing yourself to let go and be controlled by your Vidyadharan lover felt freeing. And you could tell he liked it too, his own body willing to take control of everything you did, his fingers quick to keep upon your collar.

When he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouths, he looked down on you, even more domineering than you thought he was capable of.

“Get on your knees, my pet.”