#i don’t know if i should reach out or wait a bit

[goddamnitmahtin]

This is too good… I must add because what if…

During one of their meetups

Tim, sleep deprived and desperate for coffee, “Robu…. I need you.” He slumped onto Danny’s couch

Now normally, Danny wouldn’t prefer to be referred to as a coffee brand all the time but… this was Tim. And it was Tim’s favorite coffee… so in a way… it was like he was Tim’s favorite coffee? It was hard to explain but Danny knew that he liked it a lot. More than he probably should have.

He placed the cup of coffee into his fake boyfriend’s hands. His very big hands. Course from working so hard being all heroic in the field of duty. Calloused and bruised, no doubt broken and reset dozens of times. The hands of a vigilante who was fully and utterly alive.

Danny was never jealous of Tim for that. Infact… he was very happy for Tim that he was so alive. Heartbeats are a good thing of course. And his was very nice. Steady and always going 100 miles a minute from the amount of caffeine he consumed. He supposed he should stop providing said caffeine but he spent his whole life being selfless. He was going to let himself be selfish this one time. He didn’t want to stop seeing his fake boyfriend.

“How long has it been this time?” Danny asked, trying not to sound too suspicious, “Since you’ve slept?”

He watched as the adorable mess of a man slumped over his couch sighed, “Um- 6- no- 8? Um- 74 hours or so?”

Well it wasn’t as bad as sometimes at least. He knew that it was bad for him to be awake so long. Sometimes on their “fake dates” Danny suggested movie nights just so he would take a nap. He wanted Tim’s heart to keep beating so he could keep listening to the sound.

Danny nodded, “Busy man you are.” He made sure his body blocked the coffee table from Tim’s view. He hadn’t properly put his mail out of sight before his vigilante had come to see him and he knew that Tim was nothing if not a detective.

Tim noticed the awkwardness coming from him immediatly, “Hey why are you hiding your mail from me?”

Dammit Tim why do you have to be so smart and perfect all the fucking time-

Danny laughed nervously, “I’m not- doing that…”

Tim sat up and gently adjusted Danny out of the way to look at the papers, grabbing him by the waist to do so.

Danny swooned only a little when he felt those big hands on his hips. Momentarily, he very much forgot why he was hiding his mail from Tim. But not long enough for the distraction to stop him from trying to grab the papers before Tim could reach them.

He failed.

Tim looked at the eviction notice in his hand, “Danny you never told me- I could have given you more money?!” He looked bewildered and confused. And more than that. Danny could tell there was a bit of fear in his eyes. He understood. He felt it too.

“Money isn’t the problem Tim, you give me more than enough,” Danny said fidgeting with the tracker fashionably dangling from his ear, “Everyone in the building got one. Ms. Abernathy sold it under the table to some shady company.”

Tim looked outright pissed, “What company is it?”

“I don’t remember but I remember hearing the name of it and thinking it sounded fake as hell. Probably why we are all getting kicked out instead of our leases transferring to the new owner. Ms. Abernathy doesn’t want her tenants in a bad situation,” Danny explained. He may not have been a vigilante anymore but hey, he still knew shady shit when he saw it.

Then a ding from Tim’s Nightwing tracker. And then immediately after, he feels another presence outside the window. The other birds were spying again.

“Move in with me,” Tim blurted out.

Danny… well Danny…. Danny fucking short circuited.

“Wha-?” was all he could get out. Normally he was better at improvising but ancients be damned, the cutest man ever just asked him to move in with him.

“Look I know I said we should wait since I didn’t want you in harms way if any rogues found my apartment but…” Tim wrapped his arms around Danny’s waist AGAIN, “I trust you to be able to defend yourself (after Danny broke into the Batcave as Phantom, Danny told him everything because why wouldn’t he) and honestly… I’de love having you around more often Robu.”

Danny’s breath caught as he felt those callouses on his hips again. He watched Tim stand to look him eye to eye and felt his entire core purr as one of those calloused hands moved to his cheek. Tim was really playing it up.

Danny could play it up too, “Aw is the tracker not enough anymore Timothy?” He wrapped his arms around Tim’s neck, bringing his face closer, “Of course I’ll move in with you. But don’t think I’ll be taking it off.” (Danny was referring to the tracker)

Tim smiled, “Don’t you dare.”

Then they kissed. Like on the lips. Cuz they were acting. Yeah, that. It didn’t stop Danny from adoring how Tim tasted of coffee though.

The next minute they were packing a few bags of Danny’s things and heading off to the new apartment.

While his core buzzed excitedly about the future of much more close proximity, Danny’s mind couldn’t help but wander off a little. They had gone this far. And Tim had a nickname for him. Maybe he should come up with one for Tim? He called him Tim or Timothy mostly, sometimes throwing other names in there to see if they stuck but nothing ever did. He called him Birdie once and the man gave him the biggest glare he had ever seen. It was attractive but not the response he was hoping for.

Danny knew a lot about death. Obviously. He also knew the irony of Tim’s vigilante persona Red Robin. The most alive man he had ever met used the name of a bird of death. Most people only know about the associations from cardinals, many stating that the dead send the bird to their loved ones as reminders of them.

What not as many people knew was that this was also extended to red robins. Red robins also had a double meaning when it came to the dead as they represented rebirth and starting anew. The same meaning as an upright death card in the tarot deck.

If anything… of the two of them Danny was the red robin. Tim was more of a…. swan. Yeah a swan. Loyalty, fidelity, and grace. Swans also mate for life but Danny wasn’t going to think about that. He knew Tim probably didn’t do that kind of thing like ghosts did. But it was a nice thought that he wasn’t going think about at all.

He set down the box with his clothes in it. He didn’t have very many. Most of the clothes he had were from before he moved here and most of that was destroyed in Amity Park when his parents found out what he was. It was… a lot of fire.

The rest of the clothes he had… well he kinda slowly stole them from Tim whenever he finally decided to shower and crash out whenever he stayed the night.

It wasn’t weird. He trusted Danny to wake him up before he had to leave for work. It wasn’t weird at all. Infact… Danny’s core quite liked it whenever he would stay.

“Well that’s all of my stuff,” he said.

Tim nodded, looking at all 4 boxes and 1 backpack, “Well it’s a good thing you pack so light. Too bad that couch wasn’t yours. It was comfy as fuck.”

Danny chuckled, “The bed wasn’t mine either.”

At that Tim laughed as well, “I know Robu. It was far too comfortable for you to afford.”

Danny scoffed, though the thoughts of his hometown that were brought up by how little stuff he had didn’t leave completely, “Wow thanks.”

Tim’s posture straitened. Dammit. Tim always fucking knew.

“What are you thinking about,” he asked, getting close. He always did that. Got close. He knew Danny sought comfort in physical contact. He could hear a difference in Tim’s heartbeat from the genuine concern.

Danny looked up at him, “Amity… my parents…”

Tim nodded, “Do you want to talk about it or a distraction?”

Ancients, this man was so fucking perfect.

“Distraction please,” Danny sighed, letting his head fall against Tim’s chest. He wanted to listen to his heartbeat. It was nice. And Tim held him for a while just like that. Talking about how he was going to buy a brand new bed for Danny and that after that, he was going to make 3 new tracker earrings all in different colors so that he could always have one on him no matter the outfit (As if Danny didn’t wear the silver one he already had everywhere).

One day… one day maybe it could be real. But until then… having Tim like this was going to have to be enough. It was better than having never met him at all. He couldn’t let go of his swan.

Extra:

*a few days into them living together*

Danny on the phone: So yeah I’m living with Tim now.

Jazz on the other line: So he’s your boyfriend? You could have just said that Danny.

Danny blushing furiously: N-no!

Jazz: Danny… from what you’ve told me, you live together, you eat together, you do laundry together, he knows your past, you know his…. you sleep in the same bed!

Danny: I- well- the new one hasn’t come in yet and before that it was only sometimes!

Jazz: Uhuh. And denial is a river in Egypt.

Danny: Jazz….

Jazz: Daniel the man has a tracker in your ear! So, what did you decide to call him?

Danny: *blushing profusely* I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Jazz: You can’t hide from me. I know your brain Daniel Fenton! He has a nickname for you so obviously you came up with one for him.

Danny: Fine… he’s… my Swan.

Jazz: ….. (processing) …. (Google searching the meaning)…. (Reading) …. Danny you are so insufferably corny. I hope you know that.

Danny smiling: He reminds me all the time.

Jazz smiling wider: Uhuh.

Danny, working as a cashier: Can I help you?

Tim half-deranged: Please I just want a cup of coffee

Danny squinted, then pulled out a binder: I'm sorry, sir, but you are on the Don't Serve Coffee list. I can offer you some tea instead-

Tim: NO. THIS IS THE FIFTH PLACE. BRUCE CAN'T OWN YOU ALL!

Danny leaning in to whisper: Look, man, I can't give you coffee under the cameras. Meet me in the back alley in twenty minutes and I'll get you a coffee. Bring Cash.

Tim: how much? Five hundred, six hundred or hell even a thousand? I'll bring whatever you want.

Danny: Chill dude, it's a cup of coffee. Three dollars is fine.

Tim: It's not just any coffee! It's my favorite brand and Bruce bought them out just to make sure they wouldn't sell to me anymore!

Danny: okay okay, this coffee means a lot to you. I get it. Twenty minutes alright?

Jason three weeks later in Bat cave: Tim's on drugs! I've caught him trading cash for small containers in a shady alley six times. We need an intervention.

Dick: What?! I thought that was his boyfriend!

Bruce: I also thought that was Tim boyfriend but if it's a drug dealer we have to help him.

Tim hiding in the shadows: shit.

Tim texting Danny: If anyone asks your my secret boyfriend who been making me teas in allies

Danny: who the hell would believe that? But I've had a boring week, so yeah, I'm down to be a pretend boyfriend.

[gingersxng]

Call A Friend

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: when you’ve tried everything to make yourself satisfied and nothing helps, the only thing left to try is to call a friend, who is more than happy to help you.

Notes: freaky friendship??, reader is very horny, so is Mingi, mentioning sex toys, phone sex, dirty talk, horndog! Mingi, lots of teasing, fingering, stripping, nipple/breast play, praising, jerking off, edging, mingi cums on himself, pet names (baby & beautiful), Mingi wanna fuck you!!

Words: 1.4k

You were alone in your apartment, you had a rough day at work and your whole body was aching. It was aching to be touched. This feeling had been going on for at least three days, a constant ache between your thighs that begged for release.

Playing with yourself wasn’t enough to make you completely satisfied, using the vibrator or the big dildo was much but nothing could fix your horniness.

Laying on your bed, you looked up at the ceiling and thought about what to do. Then suddenly, you remembered something in the back of your head. Maybe you should call Mingi? He was a horny freak too, ofc he was a much bigger freak than you but he if someone would understand your needs.

With your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, you reached for your phone, your fingers trembled with anticipation. You scrolled through your contacts. Your eyes landed on the picture with a pink haired guy biting his sunglasses.

Without hesitation, you clicked on his number. The phone rang, and with each signal, you got hornier.

“Fuck, can’t he answer” you muttered.

"Hello?" His voice echoed through the phone, deep and rich.

"Mingi, it's Y/n" you purred, you sure sounded needy. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Y/n" he rumbled. "It's been a while. What a pleasant surprise. I was just about to start my evening workout, but I can make an exception for you."

His words sent a rush of heat to your core. You bit your lip, your mind already spinning with naughty thoughts. "Oh, I'd love to join you for your workout, Mingi. I could use a good... stretch." You said seductively.

Mingi let out a low chuckle, the sound resonating in your ear. "I can tell you're up to something. What's on your mind, beautiful?"

"I was feeling a little... restless tonight" you confessed. "And I thought of you. I wanted to hear your voice again, and maybe... do something a little naughty together."

"Oh, Y/n" he said, his voice dropping an octave. "You know how to tempt me don’t you? I'm all ears. Tell me what you want."

You took a deep breath, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. "I want you to talk to me, Mingi. I want to hear your voice as I touch myself."

There was a moment of silence, and you could almost feel the intensity of his gaze through the phone. "Fuck. I forgot you’re just a horny freak like me." He chuckled. You closed your eyes, picturing his handsome face, imagining his strong hands on your body.

"Now, Y/n" he began, his voice taking on a seductive tone. "I want you to take off your clothes. Slowly. Let your fingers glide over your skin, feel every inch of your beautiful body."

Obeying his command, you stood up and began to undress. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons on your top. You let the fabric slide off the shoulders, exposing your lace bra. Your breasts heaved with each breath, the nipples already filled with arousal.

"That's it, Y/n" Mingi whispered. "Let me see you. Show me how beautiful you are."

You unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor, revealing your big tits. Your hands cupped them, squeezing gently, as if offering them to him. "Like what you see, Mingi?" You teased.

"God, yes" he groaned. "Your tits are perfect. Pinch your nipples for me, Y/n. Make them harden."

You did as he asked, you rolled your sensitive buds between your fingers, moaning softly at the sensation. "They're so sensitive, Mingi. I can't wait to feel your mouth on them."

"I'll suck them so hard, you'll scream my name" he purred. "Now, slide your hands down your body, tease yourself for me."

Your fingers trailed down your stomach, the skin tingled at his words. Your slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of your skirt, feeling the heat radiating from your aching core. With a slow, deliberate motion, you pushed your skirt down, revealing your lacy panties.

Mingi’s mind almost went 404, thinking about you all naked on the bed for him. "Now, touch yourself. Let me hear how wet you are."

Your fingers dipped beneath the silk fabric, finding your slick folds. You let out a gasp as you touched yourself. "I'm so wet, Mingi. I can't remember the last time I felt this aroused."

"Good girl" he encouraged. "Now, slide a finger inside. Feel how tight you are."

You did as he instructed, your breath hitched as you penetrated yourself. "Oh, Mingi, I'm so tight. I need more. Please, tell me what to do."

"Tease your clit, Y/n" he commanded. "Circle it with your fingers, but don't touch it directly. Not yet."

Your fingers danced around the swollen bud, your hips thrusted eagerly as you wanted relief. "I need more, Mingi. Please, I'm so close."

"Not yet baby" he said, his voice firm yet gentle. "I want you to edge. Tease yourself until you're right on the brink, and then stop. I want to hear you beg for release."

You whimpered, your body trembled with need. Mingi's voice was like a drug, pushing you further into the depths of pleasure. You complied, your fingers worked your clit with expert precision, bringing yourself to the very edge of orgasm before pulling away.

"Please, Mingi" you begged. "I need to cum. Please, let me finish."

"Not yet" he said. "I want to hear you beg some more. Tell me how much you want it."

Your body was on fire, your juices were flowing freely. "I want it so bad, Mingi. I'm so close. Please, please let me cum."

"That's it, Y/n" he urged. "Beg for it. Tell me how good it will feel when you finally let go."

"Fuck Mingi!" you panted. "Fuck me!!."

"Now, Y/n" he growled. "Let go. Cum for me, beautiful."

His words were like a trigger, you came on the spot. Your body shook as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you. You cried out his name with your fingers still working your clit.

"Fuck Y/n" Mingi breathed, his voice filled with satisfaction. "That was incredible. I so wish I could fuck you right now."

Your eyes widened at his sudden words. “Uhmm…” you suddenly went quiet. You heard a low groan on the other side of the phone.

"I'm hard as a rock right now" he purred. "Listening to you pleasuring yourself made me so horny, could you help me?."

A wicked smile spread across your face. "Oh, I'd love to help you, Mingi. What do you have in mind?"

"I want you to talk to me, Y/n" he said, his voice low and husky. "Tell me how you'd suck my cock. Describe it to me in detail, and make me cum with your words."

You almost choked, you knew Mingi were a horndog but you two never actually got to bed together. You tried to picture what his dick would look like, it had to be big, thick, veiny… you imagined the feel of it in your mouth. "I'd start by licking the tip, Mingi. Tasting your precum, letting it tease my tongue. Then, I'd take you deep, as deep as I could, until my lips touched the base."

"Fuck, Y/n" he groaned. "That's exactly what I need to hear. Keep going, baby."

"I'd suck you hard" you continued, your voice growing bolder. "My lips are tight around your shaft, my tongue swirling, teasing the underside. I'd look up at you with lust filled eyes, watching your pleasure."

"Yes" he hissed. "I'm so fucking close. Tell me how you'd swallow it."

"I'd take every drop" you purred. "I'd suck you dry, feeling your cock twitch in my mouth as you cum. I'd savor the taste of you, wanting more."

His breathing was ragged now, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. His low moan echoed through the phone, followed by a series of guttural grunts. "Oh, Y/n... fuck I'm... cumming!"

You listened as he climaxed, his voice could make you cum again. The thought of him stroking his hard cock, imagining your mouth on him, was enough to make you ache for more.

His hoodie was stained in white thick cum.

"That was incredible, Y/n" he breathed. "I've never had a phone call like that before. Thank you."

"The pleasure was all mine" you replied. "What about doing this more often? You shyly asked.

"I don’t know about that.. phone sex was good but I’d rather fuck you next time”

[solxamber]

Could I request Savanaclaw, 2, Fluff?

I hope I did it right

I'm locking in and gonna finish the last few tonight

King of the... Kitchen? || Leona Kingscholar

For the Holiday Event! || Theme: Cooking/Baking together ; Genre: Fluff (+ a little comedy)

"Come on, Leona. It'll be fun," you coaxed, nudging his shoulder gently.

He raised an eyebrow, looking about as enthused as a lion being asked to herd sheep. "Why would I waste my time baking a cake when I could be napping?"

You crossed your arms, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Fine. I'll just ask Malleus, then. I’m sure he’d love to help."

Leona's ears twitched, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Like hell you will."

Before you could blink, he was already rolling up his sleeves—though the grumble under his breath made it clear he wasn’t thrilled about it. “Let’s get this over with.”

You bit back a laugh, silently congratulating yourself for knowing exactly how to rile him up.

As it turned out, Leona in the kitchen was both a blessing and a disaster waiting to happen.

“I don’t see why we can’t just throw everything in the bowl and call it a day,” he said, scooping the flour with no regard for the measuring cup.

“That’s not how baking works!” you protested, snatching the sugar before he could upend the entire bag into the mix.

He shrugged, unbothered, and dumped the wet ingredients straight into the dry ones with zero finesse. “It’s all gonna end up in the same place anyway.”

“You’re impossible.” You sighed, grabbing a whisk and trying to salvage the batter.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep stirring.” Leona leaned against your back, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “You’re doing great, herbivore.”

“You’re not even helping!”

“I’m supervising.” His voice was low and amused, sending a shiver down your spine.

You huffed but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. Despite his laziness, having him close like this made your heart feel warm—like the holidays themselves.

When the cake finally emerged from the oven, though, your festive mood took a sharp turn.

“What… is that?” you asked, staring at the dense, brick-like monstrosity sitting on the counter.

Leona raised an eyebrow, poking it experimentally. It didn’t budge. “It’s a cake. Obviously.”

“No, it’s a weapon of mass destruction."

Even Ruggie, who prided himself on eating just about anything, took one look and backed away. “Yeah, uh… you two enjoy that. I’ll pass.”

You and Leona exchanged a look.

“Well,” he said, smirking, “guess there’s only one thing to do with it.”

A few hours later, Headmaster Crowley found a neatly wrapped package on his desk, tied with a festive bow and a note that read: “Happy Holidays! Enjoy this handmade treat with all our love!”

As you and Leona watched from the doorway, stifling your laughter, Crowley took a cautious bite—and immediately reached for a glass of water.

“Perfect holiday gift,” Leona murmured, his tail swishing smugly.

You leaned into him, grinning. “Maybe next year we should just stick to store-bought.”

“Or just let that lizard do it,” he teased, earning a playful shove.

Even with the chaos, you wouldn’t trade this moment—or him—for anything.

Masterlist

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

About A Girl

Dean Winchester & daughter!reader, Sam Winchester & niece!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: based on 10x12 where Dean is spelled into a teenager’s body, only this time he’s got a teenage daughter to parent

“Did you find anything on that flower smell?” You asked your uncle as you flipped through yet another book.

“I think—“

A knock at the motel door cut him off. You jumped up, reaching the door before your Uncle Sam.

“Hey, careful—“ he warned as you started to open it, but you ignored him and opened it just enough to peer out.

A teenage boy around your age stood on the other side.

“Yeah?” You questioned him, frowning.

“Hey kiddo,” he greeted with a sardonic smirk. The expression, the stance, and even the face and voice was too familiar, in an unfamiliar way.

“Dad?” You demanded, stepping back enough to let Sam see. Sam gawked at your teenage father as he marched into the room like he owned the place and started riffling through his bag, pulling out his gun.

“Wait—you’re—you—“ Sam couldn’t put together a sentence, but Dean got enough.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You’re shorter than me.” Your eyes were still bugged out as you stared at your dad.

“Shut your mouth,” he snapped at you. “I can still ground you.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Must’ve been your pre-pubescent soprano voice.”

Sam managed to stifle his laughter—albeit after a short outburst—but he couldn’t hide his grin.

“You know what? We’ve got a witch to kill,” Dean grumbled. “I don’t have time for this.”

Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and headed outside. You shrugged at your Uncle Sam, grabbing your gun before following your dad.

You stepped out into the night air only to be stopped by an old lady with a kind smile.

“You know, your son is so polite,” she said over your shoulder to Sam.

“Thanks,” Sam mumbled, and once the woman went inside her room you broke into a fit of laughter. “Yeah yeah, it’s not that funny.” Sam shoved your shoulder, pushing you to the Impala.

…

“Dean, maybe I should drive,” Sam offered when Dean had to move the Impala seat up much too far, just so that he could reach the petals.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled, relinquishing the driver’s seat. You were giggling in the backseat the whole time, and Dean shot you an angry look.

“It’s not my fault you’re short,” you argued. “Or that you got spelled and turned into Bieber.”

“You think you’re so funny.” Dean huffed.

“She got it from you,” Sam cut in. “How does it feel, anyway? I mean—you’re like, fourteen.”

“Well, I’m old me…but like a kid—it’s freakin weird, man,” Dean admitted, his voice squeaking. “And there…there was a Taylor Swift song playing on the bus that I hopped to get back…I liked it, Sam. I liked it a lot.”

Your continued giggling from the backseat told Dean that maybe he should’ve kept that last part to himself.

“Ok…” Sam said, clearly freaked.

“I’ve got one of her albums if you wanna jam out,” you offered. The men ignored you.

“And my voice is weird and I’ve got like nine zits and—“ Dean glanced back at you, cutting himself off. “And—never mind. It’s sucks.”

“Well, we have witch killing bullets in the back, so let’s get you back and then kill it.”

“About that…” Dean swallowed, glancing at Sam and then rolling up his sleeve.

“The mark is gone.” Sam stated at him. “How—“

“She slammed me into the body I had when I was fourteen. I didn’t have the mark then.”

“So what, you’re saying you wanna stay like this?” You piped up. “Seriously?”

“No, I don’t want to,” Dean argued. “But if it’s this or a bloodthirsty mark…”

You bit your tongue, slouching back in your seat. You were all for making jokes, but your dad staying fourteen? That was just too freaky. But knowing that he could get rid of the mark…you couldn’t stop him from doing that, could you? If it’s what he really wanted.

You just didn’t know how you were gonna deal with having a father younger than you forever.

…

It wasn’t going well. The witch had Hansel—not a kid, but a giant old man—on her side, and he was pretty handy with a gun.

“I never thought you would be stupid enough to come back!” The witch crowed. “And you even brought another child with you!” She grabbed your chin in her hand, and you jerked away.

Sam and Dean were exchanging looks, but you didn’t inherit your father’s ability to read Sam’s mind, so you could do nothing but sit there.

When Sam jumped up and attacked Hansel, you were taken completely off guard. Dean wasn’t, though. He went right for the witch, and while the boys were dealing with the villains you ran to untie Tina, the friend of your father’s who was now also fourteen. It didn’t last long, though—Hansel knocked Sam to the ground and then went after Dean, leaving the witch free to knock you against the wall with a wave of her hand. You tried to reach for your gun—the witch had taken it, but left it on the counter—but she saw you.

“Get her!” The witch yelled at Hansel. He snatched a knife off the counter, stepping over Sam’s groaning form and pinning you in place with a hand at your neck.

“No!” You heard your dad’s voice from the other side of the room. At the same time, Sam was starting to lift himself from the ground.

“Turn him!” The witch yelled, gesturing at Sam. Hansel put the knife down and reached for his magic pouch to turn Sam into a kid—

It wasn’t there.

Dean held the pouch up for the witch to see before squeezing it. Now, over a foot taller and with a hardness in his eyes that hadn’t belonged to the fourteen-year-old, your grown father crossed the room in two strides, grabbing a knife from off the floor and twisting it into Hansel’s back. The man’s grip released on your neck, and you gasped for breath as Dean turned to the witch. He shoved the magic pouch into her mouth and body-marched her over to the oven, shoving her inside and latching it while she screamed.

You could tell just by the look in your father’s eyes; the mark was back.

…

“Finally,” Dean breathed as he got behind the wheel of the Impala.

“Is it back?” Sam asked—definitely killing the mood.

Dean sighed and lifted his sleeve. The mark was there, looking as sinister as ever.

“Look, I know what you’re gonna say, but—“

“No, you saved me.” Sam interrupted. “And you saved Tina, and you saved Y/N. Thank you.”

Dean nodded. “Any time.”

“And hey—“ you leaned over the front seat, getting between Sam and Dean. “I can’t have a dad shorter than me. I just can’t, it’s not right.”

“Yeah yeah,” Dean grunted, putting his hand on your head and shoving you back to the backseat. “Now that I’m bigger than you again you’re gonna have to start actually watching your mouth.”

“Now when have I ever done that?” You scoffed.

“Good point.” Dean rolled his eyes, reaching for the radio and clicking it on.

Sam was horrified, but all you did was grin as your Taylor Swift cassette started playing, and your dad didn’t turn it off.

Taglist

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810 @tell-elle

[brooke121000]

hello! i love love love your writing, the style, the detail, the dialogues, everything! can i request spencer and reader sleeping together for the first time but it’s set in season 5 and spencer’s leg is recovering? the tension they’d have because reader doesn’t want to hurt spencer but he needs reader so badly

a/n: omg tysm!! I LOVE this prompt. I went a LITTLEE crazy with this but anyway! none of my stuff is proofread so apologies for any typos or mistakes!! 🫶

the healing part • s. reid

warnings: p in v, p0rn with plot, switch!spence if you squint, do a backflip and take your glasses off, quick escalation, no pr0tection (bad idea!)

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A GSW to the patella.

That’s the phrase you had heard shouted out from the trauma room in the hospital- after a particularly rude nurse had steered you out into the waiting room to “let the doctors work”. It didn’t help that Spencer was so pro-healthcare, he wouldn’t listen to any of your protestations. 

It also didn’t help that the rest of the team was so flippant about his injury- in comparison, you looked nearly obsessive. “Are, um.. are you the girlfriend?” A very nervous and very confused nursing student had once asked you, earning a chorus of giggles from everybody on the team.

But it was better now. At least, a little better. He could walk on crutches, and he wasn’t so groggy all the time. You wanted to help. You wanted to care for him. So, you asked to come over. 

“This is all really nice, you know-“ Spencer began, listening helplessly to the boiling sound of the kettle.

“It’s alright, really, Spence.“ you rebutted. “For christs sake, you were shot. The whole team should be over here right now.”

He sighed, watching as you poured the kettle and dropped in the aromatic tea bag. “The whole team is busy.” 

“Yeah, well I’m not. So drink your damn tea.” You grinned, walking over and handing him the mug. “Careful, it’s-“

“Hot?” He beamed, sitting up in his spot and taking a careful sip.

That caused you to crack a smile. “Oh, cut it out.” You replied, reaching out your own mug and clinking it with his.

“Can I try yours? I couldn’t help but notice you picked a better flavor.” He murmured.

You begrudgingly handed him your mug, which he accepted- placing his own on the bedside table. Then, you two fell into a silence as he sipped, full eyes locking with yours.

You smiled, sitting beside him. “…do you like it?”

“..ehh, so so.” He handed you back your mug.

You looked down, watching the swirling steam. You felt a little pathetic, running around attempting to care for a man who’d probably rather be alone. “..look.” You began.

 “I know I can be obnoxious. And I guess I’m.. invading your space, or whatever- but, I just care.. entirely too much. I can’t leave you here to- hobble around your apartment on a bad leg. I just can’t.”

“..is that what you assume I think of you?”

Your face got hot. Oh, Jesus. Had you just made tonight all about you? “No, no, I just-“

He placed his mug down. “Because I’ll tell you what I think of you. You’re kind. You’re profoundly empathic, about everything. It’s.. admirable. And I don’t mind tea, or hugs, or extra blankets. If I didn’t want you here, I would’ve said so.”

“..really?”

He nodded, his eyes flickering down your form.

A little bit of silence fell over you two, your faces close. And then, catching you completely off guard, he.. kissed you. He placed a gentle hand to the back of your head to pull you closer, and kissed you, sure and patient.

Heat rose within you, caught completely off gaurd.

“Spencer, I..” 

You wanted an explanation. You wanted a talk, anything- but Spencer wanted anything but. He knew you, and he didn’t want you to get the chance to second guess yourself.

“Don’t say anything. Please?”

Your heart racing, all you could conjure up was a stupid nod, leaning in to meet his waiting lips. Butterflies beat their wings inside your stomach, his lips tasting of the autumnal tea you had given him. 

The kiss felt so utterly familiar it hurt. 

His hand tightened in your hair, a tiny whine evident in his quick breathing. You fumbled on the mattress, nearer to his chest- and everything caught momentum, like a boulder flying down a hill- no way to stop what was happening, or where this was going. 

You moved, and he guided you, to sit on his lap, his hands on either side of your face.

You trembled with need, shaking hands going to the buttons of his shirt. When his hands fell to your waist and you had pulled the fabric off of him, you leaned closer on his lap- and that’s when it happened.

“Ah-“ he winced, moving his affected leg.

fuck. You thought. The leg!

Suddenly, guilt rose in your chest. You suddenly felt intensely guilty, like a negligent nurse trying to bang their sickly patient. Had you really hurt him?

“Ohmygod, Spencer, did I hurt you? I totally forgot about your leg-“

“No, no- it’s fine, just ignore it.” He breathed.

Your brows furrowed at the thought. “I.. I can’t just ignore it, I’ll.. I’ll hurt you.”

“..” he paused, his hands on your waist tightening as he looked up at you with big oaken eyes, warm enough to melt butter. 

“please?”

“Spencer, I can’t.”

“No, no- I need this, I need you, just.. please?” He practically whined.

at times, Spencer was a force. Usually in the interrogation room, or hunched over a chess board, but this was a very different kind of persuasion. And who could say no to those eyes?

Fuck. Guess I’ll just have to make it work. You thought.

He pulled you into another rushed kiss, heat pooling in your core as you practically tore his clothes off- his own firm hands making quick work of your blouse. Only when the last article had been kicked off and tossed to the floor and you two were bare, panting and blushed in front of each other did it start to set in. Was this really happening? Two coworkers- Jesus, this was scandalous.

With his eyes on yours and his hands on your waist, you didn’t really care.

“need you, god- I’ve been waiting,”He spoke, his voice weary with desire.

“mhm, I know, just-“

He pulled you closer to him with the sole purpose of placing more kisses to your neck, leaving a trail of flushed skin. You were just focused on regaining your breath.

When his gripped slipped lower on you, he looked to you for confirmation. “is- is this okay?”

Lost for words, or breath, or patience, you managed a stupid nod.

He slipped a hand between your two bodies, his fingers grazing your clit and sending fireworks up your whole body, causing you to shift on top of him. 

“oh, Jesus- you can’t move like that.” He breathed, one hand holding your hips firmly in place as he aligned himself with your entrance, heat already pooling between you two.

When you lowered yourself onto him, you both gasped. he hissed, grabbing control of your hips.

You managed a shaky nod as he stretched you farther- lowering you down onto him. He threw his head back, brown curls rustling against the pillow as another gasp slipped.

“spence!”

“god, I know, baby..”

You smiled at the nickname. Your hips connected, and a shudder ran though you. He seemed impossibly deep. Eager to remove the pressure and no longer holding any patience, he helped you in raising your hips. 

a string of moans fell from your lips, eager noises filling the dimly lit room as your hips connected once again. You were conscious of his injury- but no longer terrified. Especially when you saw the look on his face- flushed and pleading.

He continued to pull your hips up and push them down, helping you ride him. A string of whimpers and gasps filled the room as the tension in your stomach only intensified-

“ah!-“

He guided your trembling hands to his chest, and you balanced yourself, your nails pressing into the skin.

Desperate for your own release, you took control- pushing your hips up and down on him and hitting a spot that sent fireworks through your core.

“god-“ he gasped, his hands tightening on you. “don’t stop,”

Your knees pressed into the mattress, and it feels like everything got too much all at once. It felt too good, you were too close. Suddenly, he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your back.

“wha- spence, your- your knee,” you babbled.

“Don’t.” He said simply, entirely focused on you, and that was enough for you to shut up entirely. He lifted your knees to press up against him, and you swear your vision nearly went white at the feeling.

He was insatiable, and so were you. Hand planted on the headboard, he was pushing into you at a punishing speed, pulling ribbons of whines and moans out from you. 

“fuck, spence- ‘m so close, cmon,”

You fluttered around him and he groaned, deciding to pay you back with his hand, which was promptly slipped under your body and between your legs to circle your clit-

oh.

god.

And you were done. The chord inside you snapped, sending you hurtling over the edge. You damn near screamed, head pushing into the pillow as your thighs clenched around him.

“thhaaats it,”he breathed, grabbing your thighs for purchase. With one last push, one last circle of your hips, he flew over the edge as well- warmth pooling between your legs as he gasped, his gaze never leaving you.

He pulled out and took his spot next to you, pulling your head to his chest.

“god, I didn’t break you, did I?” You asked nervously, trying to shift your weight off his leg.

He grinned.

“I should be asking you that right now, y’know.”

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[0silver0dreams0]

"Whispers of Devotion"

Yandere House of the dragon x ModernReborn!Reader Pt. 3

Summarized: Gradually, as time passes, the girl she once was begins to transform into a woman. Those around her take notice, and the actions of those in her life start to bear consequences. As tensions rise, rivalries deepen, and complex feelings begin to intertwine.

Warning: hatred, love macking, mutual masturbation, clues of incest, forbidden love and stalking.

<< Pt. 2 — masterlist — Pt. 4 >> (Coming Soon)

When will they finally leave you alone? Letter after letter after letter. They just don’t understand—you don’t want them anymore. Jacaerys, Rhaenyra, Daemon, even that insufferable boy Lucerys. You burned their letters in the fireplace without hesitation. You don’t care about them; you only wish for their suffering and demise, imagining it vividly before see them with your eyes. But you force yourself to set those thoughts aside. They are a distraction, and distractions displease your mother. Every minute of your day is accounted for, each task meticulously planned to maintain the illusion of perfection. If you falter—if you make a single misstep—Alicent will not forgive you. She will punish you, lock you in your chambers for hours, sometimes days, leaving you isolated with nothing but your thoughts.

You live to please her. To earn her approval. To become the daughter she expects you to be.

8:00 - Etiquette lessons 9:00 - Dance lessons 10:00 - Bath 11:00 - History lessons 12:00 - Go to the Great Sept with Alicent 13:00 - Have tea with Alicent 14:00 - Valyrian lessons 15:00 - Lunch with your family 16:00 - Watch Aemond train and encourage him 17:00 - Talk to Alicent about everything that happened during the day 18:00 - Sneak into the kitchen to eat something 19:00 - Pray Alicent doesn’t notice you ate something 20:00 - Read 21:00 - Prepare for bed 22:00 - Sleep

It’s almost noon, which means it’s time to accompany Alicent to the Great Sept. Yet, as the clock ticks closer to the hour, temptation claws at you. There’s a small gap in your schedule, just enough time for a stolen moment. You glance around to ensure no one is watching before slipping away to the gardens.

He’s waiting for you, leaning casually against a stone column, his armour glinting faintly in the sunlight, he was there, with his brown eyes, his blonde hair, Ser Alaric. The sight of him brings a rush of warmth to your chest.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says softly, though the smile on his face betrays his words. “I could say the same to you,” you tease, stepping closer. “But I’m glad you are.” He reaches out, brushing his fingers against yours—a touch so fleeting it almost feels like a dream. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess. If your brother finds out…”

You tense at the mention of Aemond. He must never know about this, about you and Alaric. Aemond’s protectiveness would turn violent in an instant, and you dread to think what he might do.

“He won’t find out,” you assure him, though your voice is quieter than you intended. “I won’t let him.” Alaric studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he nods. “Just be careful. For both our sakes.”

Before you can respond, the sound of footsteps makes you both freeze. Your heart leaps into your throat as you whip around to see Aemond standing at the edge of the garden, his sharp gaze fixed on you.

“(your name),” he calls out, his tone neutral but his eye narrowing slightly. “What are you doing here?” You force a smile, stepping away from Alaric as casually as you can. “I had a bit of free time before prayer. I thought I’d take a walk.”

“And you, Ser Alaric?” Aemond’s voice hardens as he shifts his attention to the knight. “I was ensuring the Princess’s safety,” Alaric replies smoothly, bowing his head. Aemond’s gaze lingers on him for a moment before turning back to you. “Mother is waiting. You should go.”

You nod quickly, glancing at Alaric one last time before following Aemond.

When you arrive at the Sept, Alicent is already there, her gaze darkening the moment it lands on you.

"You’re late," she says, her tone sharp and clipped. “I apologize, Mother. I—” “I’ve no interest in your excuses.” She steps closer, her expression cold and unyielding. “You’ve been acting irresponsibly of late—sneaking off like a petulant child. I won’t allow it any longer.” Her voice is calm but cuts through you with the precision of a blade.

“After prayers, you will return to your chambers,” she continues, each word deliberate. “And you will remain there until I decide otherwise. Perhaps solitude will instil the discipline you so clearly lack.”

You open your mouth to object, but her piercing glare stops you mid-breath. Any protest dies on your lips.

The prayers are long and stifling, each moment stretching painfully under the weight of her disapproval. When they finally conclude, Alicent herself escorts you back to your chambers, her grip firm as though she fears you might slip away.

The heavy door shuts behind you with a finality that sends a shiver down your spine, followed by the unmistakable sound of the lock turning.

Left alone, you search your bed, hoping the books you’d hidden earlier might still be there. They aren’t. In fact, none of your hidden belongings remain. Realisation dawns—she must have discovered them. That’s why she was so angry.

With no distractions to occupy your mind, you lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Maybe sleep will offer a reprieve. But the hours drag on, the silence pressing against you like an iron weight. Just as the last light of day fades, a soft knock breaks the stillness, startling you.

“Aemond?” you call out hesitantly.

The door creaks open, and your brother steps inside, a tray of food in hand and a book tucked under his arm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whisper, though relief rushes through you.

“And leave you to starve?” he replies simply. He sets the tray down on your desk before sitting beside you on the bed. “Mother can be harsh, but she forgets—you're human, not an extension of her will.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking a tentative bite of the bread he brought. “But if she finds out, she’ll punish me even more.”

“I’ll speak with Father,” he says, his voice calm but resolute. “Perhaps he’ll see that Mother has gone too far.”

Your fingers graze the book he hands you, and for the first time in hours, a faint smile graces your lips. “You’re always looking out for me,” you say softly.

Aemond’s gaze lingers, his voice low but steady. “They don’t see you for who you are. To Mother, you’re a pawn; to them, a symbol. But I see you.”

Your breath hitches, his words stirring something deep within you. Before you can reply, he gently brushes a strand of hair from your face.

“I know how she treats you,” he continues, his tone measured but intense. “Always demanding, always expecting. But you don’t have to bear it alone. I’ll always be here.”

“Aemond…” you begin, unsure of what to say, but he interrupts with a faint smile. “Rest. If she troubles you again tomorrow, come to me—or Father. I’ll handle it.”

Without waiting for a response, he rises, his movements deliberate. At the door, he pauses, glancing back with a rare softness in his eyes.

“Remember, I’m always here.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re left with a strange mixture of comfort and unease. Aemond’s presence was your refuge, but his intensity… it left a lingering weight in the air.

It was already dark when you decided to take a bath. Perhaps it would help ease the tension gripping your body. Surely Mother wouldn’t mind—not if it was just a few minutes to the bathing chambers nearby.

The corridor was silent as you slipped out, your footsteps a soft echo in the stillness. You moved swiftly, heart racing with the thrill of disobedience. Reaching the bathing chamber, you let out a quiet sigh of relief, pushing the heavy door shut behind you.

But before it could close, a hand shot out, stopping it. Panic flared as another arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, and a hand covered your mouth before you could scream. Your heart pounded, every nerve on edge, until the faint scent of leather and cedarwood registered.

“Relax,” came a low, familiar voice, its velvety tone tinged with amusement. “It’s just me.” You pull his hand away and whirl around, your expression a mix of relief and exasperation. “You scared me half to death!” you whisper fiercely, mindful of the echoing corridors outside.—”

“Forgive me, my lady. I couldn’t resist.”

“This isn’t funny,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “If Mother knew you were here—”

“She’d lock you away again?” he finished, his smile fading as his brown eyes softened. “I know. That’s why I had to see you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you trapped in that room, alone, while she wields her control over you.”

His words sent a rebellious spark through you, a flicker of validation in the face of your mother’s suffocating expectations. But just as quickly, the reality of your situation weighed it down. “Alaric, you shouldn’t be here,” you whispered, glancing nervously at the door. “If Aemond finds out…”

At the mention of your brother, Alaric’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “Aemond won’t find out. And even if he did, I’m not afraid of him.”

“You should be,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “He’d kill you if he thought—”

“That I cared for you?” Alaric said quietly, his gaze piercing.

Your breath caught, and you looked away, heat rising to your cheeks. “You shouldn’t care for me,” you muttered. “It’s not safe—for either of us.”

“And yet, here I am,” he said softly, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin up, his touch gentle but insistent. “I don’t care about the risk, (your name). I’d rather face Aemond’s sword and your mother’s wrath than stay away from you.”

The weight of his words struck you, before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you. Grabbing his arm, you pull him back, your heart pounding. His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t hesitate. His hands find your waist as you lean in, and his lips meet yours in a kiss that drowns out every rule, every fear, and every consequence.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was desperation and lust, a silent scream against the forces trying to pull you apart. For a fleeting moment, the world dissolved. No Mother. No Aemond. No suffocating expectations. Just Alaric and the reckless hope he represented.

When you finally pulled away, your breaths came fast, and your cheeks burned. Alaric’s eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak, his thumb brushing the curve of your jaw.

“I…” you started, but your words faltered.

His lips curved into a faint smile, tender yet resolute. “Say the word, and I’ll stay. No matter what.”

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No. Not tonight. But… tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he echoed, one brow lifting in curiosity.

“Here,” you said firmly. “The same time, the same place. I’ll find a way.”

He studied you for a moment, as if weighing the risk against the determination in your eyes. Then, he nodded. “Tomorrow, then.”

With a final lingering kiss to your forehead, he stepped back toward the window. “Don't let her break you. Be careful, (your name).”

“You too,” you whispered, watching him slip into the night, his silhouette vanishing into the shadows.

As the quiet of the chamber settled around you, your fingers brushed your lips, the memory of his kiss still vivid. The enormity of what had happened began to sink in, but instead of fear, a strange exhilaration coursed through you.

The following day dawns with an air of tension you can’t quite shake. As you dress for your morning lessons, the memory of last night lingers like a forbidden dream. You replay every word, every touch, every moment with Alaric, but reality presses in too soon.

When you enter the dining hall for breakfast, Alicent’s gaze immediately locks onto you. Her expression is stiff, and her tone, when she speaks, carries a sharp edge.

“Sit,” she says curtly, her eyes flicking toward the chair opposite her.

You do as instructed, lowering yourself into the seat. Aemond is already there, silent but watchful as always, and Viserys occupies his usual place at the head of the table. His expression, however, is uncharacteristically lively this morning, his gaze softening when it lands on you.

“Good morning, my dear,” Viserys says warmly, his voice cutting through the tension.

“Good morning, Father,” you reply, a cautious smile tugging at your lips.

He waves a hand dismissively toward the plate before you. “Eat well. And don’t worry about that ridiculous punishment. You’re free to go about your day as you please.”

You blink in surprise, your fork pausing mid-air. Alicent stiffens visibly, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Viserys—” she begins, her voice tightly controlled, but he raises a hand to silence her.

“She’s done nothing to warrant being locked away, Alicent,” he says firmly, though his tone remains even. “Our daughter is a credit to this family. She carries herself with grace and dignity, and I won’t have her treated like some wayward child.”

Alicent’s hands clench in her lap, her composure barely holding. “It’s not about grace or dignity. It’s about discipline. She’s been sneaking off—”

“And you dealt with it, as you always do,” Viserys interrupts, his tone softening but leaving no room for argument. “But she’s learned her lesson, hasn’t she?” He glances at you with a fatherly smile.

“Yes, Father,” you reply quietly, your gaze lowering to avoid Alicent’s piercing stare.

“Good, then it’s settled.” Viserys returns to his meal, clearly considering the matter closed.

The tension at the table is palpable as Alicent pointedly cuts her food, the sound of her knife scraping against the plate unnervingly loud. Aemond exchanges a glance with you, a subtle flicker of support in his eye, but says nothing.

After breakfast, Alicent corners you just outside the hall, her voice low and sharp.

“Your father may see you as flawless, but perfection comes with a cost,” she hisses, her gaze cold. “You will not jeopardise what we’ve worked so hard to build with your recklessness.”

You swallow hard, nodding quickly. “Yes, Mother.”

Her glare intensifies, her tone biting. “You are the model of what a princess should be, and you will act accordingly. The court looks to you for inspiration, and I will not have them see weakness. Your lessons will continue, every one of them, and I will ensure your Septa does not coddle you.”

“Yes, Mother,” you reply, your voice steady but soft.

She studies you for a moment longer before sweeping away, her skirts rustling angrily behind her. The encounter leaves you standing tall, not because of fear, but because you know the weight of perfection that has been placed upon you—a weight you have always borne with grace.

The day stretches on, a never-ending cycle of lessons and expectations. Each moment is meticulously scheduled, a testament to your role as the perfect princess. Etiquette lessons are followed by hours spent discussing history, with each lecture becoming more and more of a blur. Valyrian is mastered with grace, the elegant words flowing from your lips as if they were second nature. The pressure to be flawless weighs heavily on you, but you bear it with an air of calm, never allowing it to show.

Throughout it all, Alicent remains a constant presence. She watches your every move, her sharp gaze never leaving you. You know she is pleased with your progress, but there is always a lingering sense of expectation in the air, as if the tiniest misstep would undo everything.

Even as you move from one task to another, the thought of Alaric flickers at the edges of your mind. The stolen kiss, the promise made—these moments linger in your thoughts like a secret thread woven through the fabric of your day. You push the thoughts aside, knowing you must focus on your duties. There is no room for distractions, not when you must remain perfect in every way.

Lunch comes and goes, a quiet affair with your family. You speak with your mother and Aegon, though your words are carefully measured. They don’t know—none of them do—but you catch Aegon’s eyes occasionally, a silent understanding passing between you. Afterward, you attend more lessons, this time under your mother’s watchful eye. Her gaze is always on you, sharp and piercing, but there’s also an unspoken encouragement there. She expects greatness, and you deliver it.

As the afternoon wanes, you move to your final task of the day: another meeting with Alicent. She inspects your progress with a critical eye, praising the things you’ve done well and reminding you of the things that still need perfecting. Her voice is firm, but there’s a gentleness there, too, the kind that only a mother can convey.

The hours pass like this, one after another, each duty completed to the highest standard. Finally, the evening arrives, and with it, the promise of a brief respite. Dinner with the family is a quiet affair, the room filled with the soft clinking of utensils and murmured conversation. You eat in silence, your mind elsewhere.

Afterward, you retire to your chambers. You change into your nightgown, the fabric cool against your skin. You look in the mirror for a moment, seeing the poised princess staring back at you. No mistakes. No cracks in the façade. Everything has been handled with perfect care.

You make your way to the bath chambers, the solitude of the corridors a small comfort. As you approach the door, you hear a voice from behind.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Alicent’s voice is sharp, and you freeze mid-step.

Turning slowly, you face her, the tension building in the air. “I’m going to take a bath, Mother,” you answer calmly, offering her a small, composed smile.

Alicent looks you over, her gaze lingering on your attire. “In that? Why are you dressed like that? You know it’s improper to go without the servants’ help.” Her tone is questioning, but not unkind.

“I didn’t want to trouble them, Mother,” you reply smoothly. “I thought I would go on my own this time, just to... clear my thoughts.”

Alicent studies you for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Very well,” she says, her voice softening slightly. “But you must remember to call for help if you need it. Don’t forget your place, (your name).”

You nod quickly. “Of course, Mother. I won’t be long.”

She gives you one last scrutinising look before nodding, satisfied for the moment. “See that you don’t. You’ve done well today, but there’s always more to be done. I’ll be watching.”

With that, she turns and walks away, leaving you alone in the quiet of the corridor. You exhale slowly, the tension in your body relaxing. Without another word, you slip into the bath chambers, and then you hear a sound outside the window. It’s him.

You approach the window, heart racing, and peek through the gap in the curtains. Alaric stands there, his presence unmistakable even in the dim light. His gaze meets yours, and the weight of the promise you made to each other the night before hangs in the air. The excitement builds in you as you move away from the window, quickly securing the door.

Moments later, the door creaks open just enough to reveal Alaric slipping inside, his eyes scanning the room before settling on you. His gaze lingers on your nightgown, the soft fabric clinging to your form in the dim light. You feel his eyes on you, heat rising in your chest. Neither of you speaks immediately—words are unnecessary now. The anticipation crackles between you, and it’s clear that tonight will be different.

He steps closer, the air thick with tension, and the space between you is filled with a promise of more. You meet his gaze, your heart pounding with the realization of everything you’re about to risk. But you don't care, and you know that neither does he. Without a word, you begin to unlace the ties of your nightgown, letting it fall to the floor at your feet, leaving yourself exposed completely to him. He watches you, his gaze intense, and then, without hesitation, he closes the distance between you. His lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s both hungry and desperate, a mix of desire and an unspoken understanding of the consequences. The kiss deepens, pulling you both into the moment, where nothing else matters but the heat between you, a connection neither of you can deny.

“Wait, I don’t want to be impure, even if I love you too much, and I need you so much that even words can’t describe it,” you say, voice trembling with a mix of desire and guilt. “I don’t want to disappoint my family by being impure before the wedding.”

Alaric watches you, his eyes dark with an intensity that both comforts and unsettles you. Even though you know he’s hungry, his gaze softens with concern, a frown tugging at his features. “Then don’t do it,” he says, his voice low and steady, almost like a promise. “We can always do other things.”

His words are a balm to your anxious heart, yet there’s something deeper in his tone, an unspoken suggestion that he’s willing to go to great lengths to keep you safe, to protect you—his obsession so deeply rooted in his care for you, and yet, there's a hint of something darker behind his gaze.

You hesitate, your hands shaking slightly as you look away, unsure if his care for you is truly all it seems. "But what if... what if I'm not enough for you?"

Alaric steps closer, his presence overwhelming as he lifts your chin gently with one hand. "You are more than enough," he says, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. "And no matter what happens, I'll make sure you're never alone."

His lips brush your forehead in a tender gesture, but the warmth doesn't quite reach your heart. You can feel the weight of his gaze, the unspoken promise of his love—and perhaps something more—pressing on you.

"You don't need to worry," he adds, his words both comforting and possessive. "I'll take care of everything. You just need to trust me."

And before you can say anything, he runs his hand down your body, touching your tits, your belly, all the way down to your private parts. You feel his fingers on your clitoris, circling, you want to moan, but before you do, his other hand goes to your mouth. As his head moves down your neck, kissing and sucking, but not leaving any marks. You were feeling so good, you don't know what he is doing down there and then he move away his hand of your mouth, and grabs yours, and guide to his dick and star to make moves.

"Just let me make you feel good too, all right, my lady?" Alaric’s voice is soft yet commanding, a tone that leaves no room for doubt.

You nod silently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed. You don’t fully understand what you’re doing; all you know is that you feel so good, so utterly consumed by the moment, that everything else fades into the background.

You barely notice what he’s doing with your hand or how quickly he’s guiding it. His touch is deliberate, firm, yet somehow gentle enough to keep you entranced.

You don’t have any idea what’s happening; the world around you blurs into pleasure and nothingness. All you know is the sensation—the warmth spreading through you, the dizzying rush of emotions—and the way he looks at you, as if you’re the only thing that matters in his entire world.

Pt. 4 >> (Coming Soon)

Author’s note: My apologies for the delay, I’ve had a busy few months, but I’m here now, and I hope to release part 4 very soon. Tomorrow, I’ll be posting some headcanons that I hope you’ll enjoy.

Taglist: @ursinaw @dakota-rain666 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @pookiedragonfire @jjggdfvvy @maryldrsstuff @1soultaken @ceramic-raven @eissaaaa @moodyblueberrytree @xadaboo @labryel @zoeyburton @hopingtoclearmedschool

[buttsmasher]

Demarcus (Edited)

Warnings Tags: Face Farting, Gay Face Farting, Straight x Gay, Passing out from farts, Eproctophilia, Use of the F Slur

You try not to stare as Demarcus runs around the track. But the way his ass moves up and down in those tight pants is just purely erotic. You can’t not stare, and you know you can’t be the only one. No man should have an ass that fat and so hypnotic. You just try to take a peek and next thing you know, you dick is straining in your trainers as you’ve watched him run two laps.

You firmly shut your eyes and put your head in your hands so there’s absolutely no way you can keep staring. You keep willing your boner to go away so you can go back to stretching and start your morning jog, but your mind keeps wandering to Demarcus’s massive ass. You can’t help but imagine having him sit straight down onto your face after running all day in this terrible heat.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You say absentmindedly as you ball your hands into fists. “Come on man, get yourself together.” You gave your cheeks two slaps before jumping up and bouncing from foot to foot. Your eyes are still closed and by some miracle your boner has decided to leave. But when you open your eyes, you freeze.

Demarcus is currently in front of you bent over touching his toes, his ass in perfect view. Your mouth falls open and you can feel drool starting to drip out of your mouth. His ass is just...perfect. There’s no other word for it, and you just want to know what it feels like. Your body takes a step closer to where he’s currently stretching. You have no control over yourself as you move on auto-pilot. 

You watch as your hand reaches out and smacks his sizable ass. Then your hand grasps his right cheek and you shake it. His ass fills your hand completely and you can smell his musky body from where you’re standing. Your eyes go up his back and you come eye to eye with him. He’s giving you a confused look as he looks down at your hand and then back up to you and he gives you the most shit-eating grin.

“You havin’ fun?” He asks knowingly.

“Uh-uh I-I-” You fumble for words as you snatch your hand away. “Wh-why did I do that?” 

“It’s alright bud.” He claps your shoulder. “You’re not the first fag to get overwhelmed by me.” 

“I’m-uhh-” You clear your throat “not a fag?” You don’t know why it comes out as a question but it makes Demarcus laugh. 

“Look man,” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. “I know I have a great ass. I ain’t blind. And what kind of human would I be if I didn’t let a fag get off to my ass every now and then.” He moves a hand of yours so it’s touching his glutes. 

“Uh thanks?” 

“You’re welcome.” His smile is very confusing, a bit cocky but also a bit genuine. You’re not too sure what to make of it. You both stand there quietly as he continues to let you grope his ass. He then slowly moves your hand over his crack.

PFFFFFFF

You stare at him in horror as you realize he just farted on your hand. 

“Well I have to get going.” He looks at an imaginary watch. “See ya around?” You stare at your hand and then back at him then back at your hand.

“Yeah-well maybe?” Your confusion makes him laugh and you watch as he walks away.

“See ya tomorrow fag!” He gives a wave and you wave back even though he’s not even looking at you. 

“Tomorrow? Yeah.” You mumble the words not really registering with you. All you can focus on is your hand. You slowly bring it up to your nose and you take a small whiff. Your eyes go cross as his lingering ass funk fills your nose. You need to get home now!

You rush back to your car to head home, totally forgetting to even do your workout. The only thing you can focus on is how his ass felt as you squeezed and how amazing that fart smelt on your hand. You can’t even wait to get home and end up having to stop on the side of the highway to rub one out. You end up cumming in your boxers and by the time you get home it’s all gross and dried.

You plant your face against your steering wheel to catch your breath. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” You sigh.

*****The Next Day*****

You’re embarrassed to say that you came back the next day just to see Demarcus in action again. Not even pretending to do a workout today, you try to hide in an inconspicuous spot where you don’t think he’ll be able to notice you. You even bring binoculars with you. 

Shit, maybe he’s right. Maybe you are a fag.

You’re looking through them, trying to find any sign of him when finally you see him exit the locker rooms and head out to the track. This time he’s wearing a tighter pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. 

You take a big gulp, trying your best not to let your mind get overwhelmed with even more inappropriate thoughts. You can’t lie though, you came about 5-7 times last night from different scenarios you would beg Demarcus to try. But right now, this is probably the best you’ll get.

You spy as Demarcus stretches on the side of the track. Again his ass is in perfect view and your dick is quickly tightening your pants. He lifts his leg up to his butt and holds it for a moment and then does the other before he finally starts jogging around the track. You notice he seems to be going slower than yesterday and in his second lap you can see himself fanning his face like he smelled something bad. 

Your mind immediately goes back to one of your mastubatory dreams from last night where he loads you up with his manly gas. The thoughts make your dick thoroughly strain against your boxers and you try your best to think of anything else. 

Demarcus stops in front of you, maybe 20 feet away from your hiding spot. He puts his hands on his knees and takes a couple of deep breaths.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

From your vantage point, you can hear him releasing terrible torrents of gas. “Fuck.” He says pretty loudly as he rubs his stomach. “What did they put in that protein shake?” Demarcus stretches to the left and then to his right and makes eye contact with you. You see his pained face turn into a mischievous smile. 

“Well hey there fag face!” He says standing upright. You give a short wave back as he walks towards you. “Were you here hiding from me?” 

“Nooo.” You say unconvincingly. “I just like-uh-being one with nature.” 

“Sure you do.” You see his right eye twitch.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF

“I’m telling ya man, I’ve got the worst gas today.” He pats his stomach a couple times.

“Yeah I can, uhh, hear that.” 

“If only there was a fag ‘round here, that would graciously sniff these butt blasts so I don’t have to smell them.” You gulp, he couldn’t possibly mean you could he. “Do you know one?” You shake your head no. “You sure?” You nod. “Well if you find one, tell him I’ll be in the locker rooms.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” You whisper-yell as Demarcus jogs back towards the direction of the locker rooms. You argue with yourself whether or not you’re going to go. “I have to go.” You stand upright. “I have to.” You quickly jog after Demarcus.

When you get to the locker room, you see Demarcus bending over the bench and letting out soft groans.

PFFFFFFFFBBRBRFFFF PFFFFFFFFFF

He’s still letting out farts and you can’t stop yourself from walking up behind him and getting on your knees. Demarcus notices you and makes a show of shaking his ass. “Couldn’t stay away couldya?” You sheepishly shake your head no and you take a loud inhale of his musky ass. “It’s alright, all you fags need to learn at some point.” He moves his hand behind your head and holds you firmly against him. “You can’t resist an alpha.”

PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

You’re subjected to the pure manly stank of him. It’s raw and terrible and it makes your eyes water. He strongly smells of rotten eggs and you have to ask yourself how you got yourself in this situation. You don’t fight him though, you just stay there taking deep whiffs of his ass funk. 

“There you go, breathe me in.” Your mouth slightly falls open. “Let my ass control your thoughts.” His voice is so calm and addicting, you fall into a trance. “Deep breath.” You take a large inhale.

PFBRBRBBFFFFTTTT PFFF

He times the farts perfectly making sure you get a lungful of his toxic fumes. “Yeah, like that. Breathe me in fag.” You take another large breath not wasting any of the rotten garbage he’s releasing from his ass. 

He lets go of the back of your head. “Lay down for me fag.” 

“Yes sir.” You obey laying down on the rough concrete floor.

“Good fag.” He squats down over your face, his ass not quite touching you.

PFFFFFFFBRBRB PFFFFFFF PFFFF PBFBFBF PFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFF

“Aww fuck.” He sighs in relief and you push your head against his clothed ass again. “You like how that smells?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Yes Alpha.” He corrects.

“Yes alpha.” 

“What’s it smell like?”

PRFFFBFFFTTT PFFFFFFTTTT

“Old eggs. Rott-rotten sewage?” You struggle to put a coherent thought together, your fag brain blissed out. 

“Do you want more?”

“Please alpha, give me more.” You beg and you hear him chuckle. 

“Anything for you faggot.” You watch as he pulls his shorts down so you’re staring at his bare ass. He finally puts his full weight on you by sitting down straight onto your face.

PFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFTTT

“That’s just for you fag. So make sure you get it all in your fag lungs.” 

“It smells so good, alpha.” Your brain is empty with the only thought to serve him. 

“You fags are so easy. One whiff of a man, and here you are. Begging me for my nasty farts. You’re as bad as a pig. You know that right? You’re a pig, fag.”

PFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFFFTTT

You know he’s right. You should be disgusted, but seriously you’re so fucking hard you’re scared that you’re about to unload in another pair of your boxers. Your eyes are rolled back in pleasure as you inhale everything he gives you.

“I bet I could make you cum from this.” He waggles his hips, making sure you’re bounced between both of his cheeks. “Think you could cum from my farts piggy?” You fevisherly nod your head yes, and he laughs. “Fucking pathetic.” He gets out between laughs. 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

And there it is. You’re seeing stars as you start shooting your load in your boxers.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF PFFFTT

His ass doesn’t let up as your back arches from the amount of cum you’re shooting. It’s probably one of the best orgasms that has rocked your body.

PFFFFFBRBRBFFF PBBBFFFFFFFFFFFF

Fart after fart gets let loose to the point that you go from seeing stars to everything going black from lack of fresh air.

“Alpha.” You struggle.

“Nighty night piggy.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT

Everything goes black as your head falls lax onto the concrete floor. The worst smelling fart knocks out any remaining fresh air that you had left. Demarcus gets up leaving you on the floor to marinate in his stink. When you do finally wake up, you find his scent still lingering all over you and your shorts are sticky from dried cum.

You can’t help it that your hand snakes its way down to your dick and you start jacking off to the lingering scent of the alpha. It’s natural for a piggy to love the stink, especially a piggy fag like you.

[antinousletmehit]

Hello pookie

I hope your having a good day, anyways, I saw you were asking for requests so I figured I'd give you one even though I'm sure your already getting many, also no pressure to actually do this or anything I don't want you to feel like anyone will be disappointed if you don't do this, but if you were looking for some inspiration or an idea...

(I know it seems out of the question to suggest a Telemachus x reader when you are already doing a story on that (which is very good btw))

Oh well, if you are looking for ideas - Telemachus x fem reader who is a servant at the palace. Well, there's my two sense.

Have a great day <3

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x fem!reader

୨୧┇note: I love Telemachus chat

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The palace was quiet, its grand halls wrapped in the heavy silence of midnight. Telemachus tiptoed past the sleeping guards, his sandals barely making a sound on the cool stone floors. His heart raced, not from fear of being caught, but from excitement. He knew you were waiting for him. Out in the garden, hidden among the olive trees, you leaned against a gnarled trunk, the moonlight casting a silver glow over your features. When you saw him, your face lit up with a smile that made his stomach flip.

“You’re late,” you teased, crossing your arms.

“Blame Athena,” Telemachus whispered, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “She wouldn’t stop lecturing me about responsibility.”You laughed softly, the sound like the gentle rustling of leaves. “And here you are, sneaking out with me. Very responsible, my lord.” Telemachus rolled his eyes, though his smile widened. “If you keep calling me ‘my lord,’ I might have to stop meeting you.”

“Oh, is that so?” you said, stepping closer. “What should I call you, then?”

“Just Telemachus,” he said, his voice softening. “When we’re out here, I’m not a prince. I’m just… me.” You nodded, your smile turning gentle. “Alright, Telemachus. Shall we go?” The two of you slipped through the garden and out into the open fields beyond the palace walls. It wasn’t the first time you’d done this, your secret nighttime escapades had become a routine over the past few months. You’d explore the countryside, climb hills, and sit by the shore, talking about everything and nothing.

Tonight, you ended up on a hill overlooking the sea. The stars sparkled above, their reflection dancing on the dark waves below. You sat down on the grass, and Telemachus joined you, close enough that your shoulders brushed. “You know,” he said after a moment, his voice hesitant, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this…free before.”

You glanced at him, your brow quirking. “Free?”He nodded, picking at a blade of grass. “When I’m in the palace, I’m always being watched, judged. Everyone expects me to be like my father, to grow into this great hero. But out here, with you… I can just be myself.” Your expression softened, and you reached out to touch his arm. “You don’t have to be anyone but yourself, Telemachus. You’re already enough.” His breath hitched, and he turned to look at you. The way you gazed at him, your eyes full of sincerity, made his chest feel tight. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

Instead, you smiled and leaned closer. “Can I show you something?”

Telemachus blinked, confused. “Show me what?” Without answering, you tilted your head and pressed your lips to his. For a moment, his entire body froze. His mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that he couldn’t quite process. This was his first kiss, his first real kiss. And it was with you. When you pulled back, he was still staring at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed. “I—I—uh—” You bit back a laugh, watching him flounder. “Telemachus? Are you alright?”

“I—yes—no—I mean—” He ran a hand through his hair, his voice cracking slightly. “Did you just—did we just—”

“Yes,” you said simply, your smile teasing but kind.

“Oh,” was all he could manage, his brain still trying to catch up. You reached out and gently touched his cheek, bringing his attention back to you. “Was that okay?”

He finally found his voice, though it was quiet and a little shaky. “It was more than okay.” Your smile widened, and you leaned back, propping yourself up on your hands. “Good. Because I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” Telemachus stared at you, his heart pounding so loudly he was certain you could hear it. “You… you have?”

You nodded, glancing up at the stars. “You’re kind, and thoughtful, and you have this way of making people feel safe. How could I not?” He didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, he sat there, watching you with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Eventually, you turned back to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Telemachus?”

“Yeah?” he said, his voice faint.

“You can breathe now.”

He let out a shaky laugh, finally exhaling the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Right. Breathing. Good idea.” You laughed with him, and the sound filled the night air, light and full of joy. As the two of you sat under the stars, Telemachus couldn’t help but think that, for the first time in his life, everything felt exactly as it should be.

[chirpingfromthebox]

The Fleet's Post-game Press Session from 1/5/2025 - BOS vs. MTL at Seattle

The Boston Fleet's post-game press session from after their Takeover Tour game against the Montréal Victoire in Seattle.

At the table were head coach Courtney Kessel, and forwards Susanna Tapani and Hannah Bilka.

A transcription is under the break.

[To keep it on par with the other side I did a marginally looser transcription on this one as well. Basically just cut out some of the stutters and filler words/phrases that you always get in these sorts of interviews as people try to phrase an idea on the spot. I usually keep them in for accuracy, even though they make the text a little muddier, but they do slow things down as they are trickier to get down properly.

Although there were definitely still some reporter bits that I couldn't quite make out.]

[Video seems to begin after a question was asked, as even though the players are still appearing to be getting situated at the desk the video begins with Courtney Kessel speaking.]

COURTNEY KESSEL:

I think just an unbelievable experience. Our players have got to do some fun things yesterday and the day before that. And it’s just really nice to come out with a win. A good hard-fought game and I think we really earned those points today.

Reporter:

Coach, what do you think the turning point of this game was? Obviously that second period was a lot of special teams play. What did you see from your group to pretty much stay with it and not get down going down a couple goals early?

COURTNEY KESSEL:

I think our ability to sustain offense from line to line to line and to continue that was a huge difference for us to continue with the momentum. And then finding ways to get pucks in was one of our biggest things too.

Reporter:

For both players, and similarly to what coach was just talking about, what were some of the conversations or things you were doing on the bench to really turn that tide in that second frame?

HNNAH BILKA:

I think just staying with it. Not getting discouraged with what the score is. I feel like we have a very calm group and kind of a steady vibe to our bench. Just that internal confidence that we know that we’re gonna come back.

Reporter:

And Susanna, for you, especially thinking about that shootout goal, is that something you know where you were going to go with it? Do you just kind of take what’s given?

SUSANNA TAPANI:

That’s actually a long time that I’ve scored that goal, but it’s something that I’ve done in the past for sure. I waited a little too long maybe, but- [chuckles] I’m glad that it went in.

Reporter:

So this game is kicking off the Takeover Tour for the PWHL and I believe that you all have 2 more games left that are going to be in these different neutral sites. How are you approaching this tour? In terms of going to different cities that don’t currently have teams, but have people that want to come see you, and those kinds of things?

COURTNEY KESSEL:

It’s an exciting time for our game and I think you see the growth just continue to grow every single day and we had an amazing audience here today. Hopefully moving forward we can continue to grow this. But if you think about where we were one year ago from today, who would have thought that we could expand so soon. Right? Just reach out to all these young girls and so I think just continue to grow it each and every day. That’s really what these players do.

Reporter:

Two questions please. First, for both of the players, can you tell me about Jessica Campbell coming into the room before the game? Whether you had a chance to talk to her individually, what her message to you before the game, what it meant to you?

SUSANNA TAPANI:

I think it was a big moment for all of us. The work she has done here and we saw on the ice how big she is in this city. Yeah, it was awesome. Awesome moment that she came into the locker room and told us that we should be proud, all of us, for what we have done here.

HANNAH BILKA:

Yeah, it was really cool. I feel like I’ve been following her for awhile and she’s just paved the way for women’s hockey. To be an assistant coach in the NHL, that’s a huge deal. So it was so cool getting to be able to hear her talk and be at the game here today.

Reporter:

And coach, can you speak a little bit about yesterday’s clinics and the autograph signings and the whole vibe? And how did what you experienced in Seattle compare to what you experience in the 6 PWHL cities?

COURTNEY KESSEL:

I think one of our core values as a team is to impact the community. And I think when you come into a place that doesn’t have a team just yet in the PWHL, it’s great to get out and to reach out to those little girls. They were at our practice cheering for us, so I think that’s a great environment for practice. And then to be able to get on the ice with a few of them, the players got out to throw the fish and kind of experience the city a little bit. So it’s really great to get out into the community and express our love for the game and give back a little bit.

Reporter:

I was wondering, before the final [???] changed the tone of things a little bit, do you think your team deserved a little better than it had going for it?

COURTNEY KESSEL:

Yeah, you know, heading down the stretch here, we’ve been on a little bit of a long road trip looking for a puck to kind of find the back of the net for us and see the light at the end of the tunnel. So it was really nice to see that go in. I think the biggest key is just to stick to our gameplan. We played a great 60 minutes. When we went into the first period- or the first intermission down two, I don’t think it was an indicator of how we were playing and I love to see us battle back.

Reporter:

Down two goals you still had some pretty stellar goalkeeping behind you. Knowing you were going to have to take some risks do some [???] what does the level of goalkeeping you have behind you allow you to do in situation like that? Knowing that you do have that kind of an anchor.

HANNAH BILKA:

I think it just gives us so much confidence as group. We know she’s gonna come up with a big save and really keep us in the game. So she’s our anchor back there. Yeah, just can’t say enough great things about how good of a goaltender she is.

Reporter:

Kind of keeping the theme here, it was a pretty marquee metric for the goaltenders in this one in general. Players, coach, can you just speak to what you saw out of [Ann-Renée] Desbiens in this one? Obviously she had a good game going on before you guys let things kind of [???].

COURTNEY KESSEL:

I think across the league we have tremendous goaltending and that’s probably why the scores of the games are always kept pretty low. But two tremendous goaltenders going head-to-head in the great city of Seattle, with a great fan base; I think we gave them a game that everyone wanted. Some physicality and brought us all the way into a shootout, so it’s exciting. But I think when you have the top 10 goaltenders in the world you’re gonna see great goaltending every single night.

Reporter:

And then I’d just like to ask, you kind of touched on it a little bit there coach, but what do you hope the fans who were at attendance today and were able to see you at practices yesterday, take away from this one? Obviously when the Jocks In Jills podcast mentioned expansion to the city it was pretty loud. It looks like that’s what people want here.

COURTNEY KESSEL:

Yeah, a very warm welcome from Seattle and I think our players enjoyed it. I want them to see our game and how amazing it is and how amazing these players are and how hard they work. And, you know, the game is fast, it’s physical, and we’re just at the beginning of where we want this league to take off to.

[End of video.]

[nine-one-wanton]

@typicalopposite Mobile has completely garbled your ask. It does not show your entire message. There is no “Answer” button for me. So forgive my answering in this format! 💜 (Your other garbled ask is forthcoming!)

Buck reached his foot under the table, his ankle finding Tommy’s and locking them together.

“What’s going on with you?” Tommy asked softly.

Buck sighed, “I’m feeling kinda left out here. Or, like, I don’t completely belong here?”

Tommy frowned. “You don’t like this place?”

Well, that wasn’t true. “I do like it, I just don’t know how to be here. And..” His eyes shot to Émile, who was standing back, with a neutral-to-smug look on his handsome, chiseled face.

Tommy looked confused, his eyes followed Buck’s eyeline to their waiter. And then his eyes widened, returning to Buck’s.

“Seriously, Evan?”

“I mean, it’s fine,” Buck lied. “You’re in a relationship. But you’re not dead.”

“True..” Tommy said cautiously.

“Y-y-you have eyes.”

“Are you.. attracted to our server, Evan?”

“What?!” Buck whispered.

Tommy grinned playfully.

“You’re the one that’s been flirting with him this whole meal,” Buck said, doing his best impression of a ventriloquist, not wanting anyone to read his lips to see what they were talking about. And regretting how intimate the seating was down here. He thought he saw one of the Canadians rolling their eyes.

“Do you know how deliberately you have to flirt with a server around here to get even your water refilled?” Tommy deadpanned.

Buck felt the tips of his ears turn pink, and he.. kinda felt like he might be being gaslit.

Maxine’s clipped voice interrupted, and Buck was able to make out enough words, and apply context to understand that she was asking if people were ready for the final dessert course.

Maxine’s eyes coolly shifted to Émile. And Émile had the audacity to ask Tommy something directly. Something that sounded to Buck’s barely trained ear like, ”Êtes-vous sûr, Monsieur Kinard?” And then Émile’s eyes flicked skeptically to Buck and then back to Tommy.

Buck felt heat pooling in his core again, and he unlocked their ankles, pulling back into a closed off posture.

Tommy nodded, a barely perceptible gesture. And his shoulders shook a little - and Buck thought he might actually be.. laughing?

Tommy took a deep breath, swallowed a large gulp of wine, and then let his breath out slowly as Émile sat the most beautiful plate of macarons down before Buck. A combination of rich chocolate and raspberry macarons were artfully, delicately trailed across a thin rectangular plate. And on top of one of the dainty cookies sat a rose gold wedding band, with a black and red opal inlay.

Buck felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He looked at Tommy with disbelief. As he began to reframe the evening.

Tommy laughed softly. “I love you, Evan Buckley. Every ridiculous, wonderful bit of you. Would you marry me?”

“I’m.. an idiot.”

“And what kind of idiot would I be, if I didn’t love you anyway?”

Buck put the ring on his finger. And couldn’t help shooting a pointed look at Émile, who had faded into the background after he and Maxine had served the guests their desserts.

“You’re wearing the ring, Evan. Is that a yes?”

Buck gasped. “Oh, right. Yes. Of course, it-it’s a yes. Hey.. am-am I supposed to wear this right away? Like an engagement ring? Or wait until we’re married, like. Since it’s a wedding band?”

“That’s the great thing about being queer, Evan. We get to make up our own rules.”

“I want to wear it,” Buck said, decisively. “And I want you to have one, too. So, people know.”

“Know what?”

“You’re mine.”

Buck saw Tommy’s breath hitch slightly. A sharp little hiccup of an inhale. Then he asked, “Should we, uh.. finish up here? Get back to the hotel?”

“Need me to remind you?” Evan asked in a low voice. “Since I don’t have a ring for you yet?”

“Evan..” Tommy breathed. And Buck could hear the mix of Yes, please and Not here weaving through that one breathlessly whispered word.

They took the macarons in a small paper bag to go, and began the short walk back to their hotel room.

[graham--folger]

yall. wtf

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[cuteniaarts]

2 hour rough drawing of Ehuang, my precious Green Opal child who I don’t draw nearly enough <3

[osamucide]

⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!

. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!

wc: 5.3k

cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)

reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA

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⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!

“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”

The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.

“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”

You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”

“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”

But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.

There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.

It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.

“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”

His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”

He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!

“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”

That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.

And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.

“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.

His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”

So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.

And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.

“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”

“Osamu!”

But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.

“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”

He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.

Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.

“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.

“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”

When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!

"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.

"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.

"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.

He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.

Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.

He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.

"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."

He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.

You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.

"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!

You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.

Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.

He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.

But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.

"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"

He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.

You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.

"Unh—ugh..."

You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.

Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.

"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."

You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!

"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"

"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"

Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.

"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"

But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.

"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"

His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.

"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."

And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.

And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.

"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."

And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.

"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹

⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!

You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."

The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.

"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."

He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.

"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."

"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.

You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.

"Fuckin' slut—"

When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.

"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."

But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.

You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.

"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!

"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."

You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.

You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."

"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.

"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"

"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.

You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."

"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.

"I mean, unless..."

Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.

“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“

His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.

“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!

The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.

He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.

I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.

You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.

There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.

Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.

He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.

"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"

You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.

An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.

"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!

You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.

When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?

Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?

"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."

You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.

"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹

⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!

"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.

He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.

But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.

"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.

"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.

He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.

He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.

"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."

"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.

Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"

You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.

"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!

“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."

"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."

You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."

"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.

"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."

But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.

"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."

"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."

The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.

"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”

"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.

"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.

"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹

[lilreidgirl]

Do I wanna know?

Summary: You and Drew are best friends, but you want more. What happens when you get invited to a day out on Drew’s friend’s yacht and get more?

Warnings: MDNI(18+), fem!reader, thigh riding, daddy kink, nicknames used (princess, baby, little lady, good girl…), kissing, alcohol (beer), swearing, no use of (y/n), reader wears a skirt, shy!reader, pining amongst friends, English is not my first language, if I forgot anything; please let me know!!

WC: ~2.4k (no idea how that happened)

A/N: I got inspired by this photo so I wrote this at like 2 am and I’m posting it now at 5 am, this is a mess, gn my loves (NOT PROOF READ, SORRY) (also this is my first fic about Drew so yeah)

When your best friend, Drew Starkey, invited you to a small get together on his friend’s yacht, you were more than willing to go. You and him had been friends since years, getting to know each other through mutual friends and suddenly you were eating take out with a b-list celebrity every other night.

You twirled around in front of your full body sized mirror, watching with amusement as your skirt twirls with you, the ruffles bouncing as they fluttered in the wind.

“Wow. Really doesn’t take much to get a smile on that pretty little face of yours, huh?” Drew chuckled as he watched you spin around.

Startled by his voice you stopped your little turns, looking at him with a small playful glare when the dizzy fog finally cleared from your vision.

“I’m just a happy person. You should try it sometime” you shot back, but you knew it was no use. Drew was great at talking, arguing, whatever. He was great with people in a way you just couldn’t figure out for yourself.

But honestly? You were fine just standing on the sidelines watching him do his thing, waiting for him to abandon that and come talk to you for a bit.

You had been fine with it.

Lately every time he laughed and grinned at one of your sarcastic comments and every time he stared at you like he was a theoretical physicist and you had the answers to string theory, you couldn’t help but want more. Couldn’t help but want that “best friend” status to be upgraded to “girlfriend”. Hell, you even dreamt of being called his wife.

For now though, you were just going to try and enjoy the day on a luxurious boat.

Soon you found yourselves in the car. You clicked on random songs on your phone and sand along to the “wait, this is the best part, shut up”’s before yet again changing the song as Drew drove to the harbour, admiring the way you seemed so enthralled by the different songs and music.

“Would love to continue listening to your big world tour concert, little lady, but we’re here,” he announced once he’d gotten the car carefully parked.

Excitedly, you jumped out of Drew’s car, watching as he did the same before you both made your way closer to the water where many ships floated atop the sea.

At the same time, you both spotted Drew’s group of friends, waving at them as they saw you two as well.

You’d gotten to know them a bit but the amount of group hangouts you attended, didn’t really allow you to form a strong bond to any of Drew’s friends.

What can you say?

You’re just not a people person.

You’re a person person.

A Drew person.

You squashed the ridiculous thought, giggling it off before you checked that your outfit was neatly in order.

Upon seeing you inspecting your clothes, Drew leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath tantalizingly brushed against your ear and neck as he spoke, “You look amazing, baby, don’t worry.”

As you reached the boat, the smile you had shared for a few enchanting seconds came to a sudden end.

“Hey, Drew!” Various different voices greeted the both of you and you both returned the favour with just as much enthusiasm.

One of the guys, the one whose yacht it was presumably, invited everyone aboard.

Your eyes flitted to everything around you, spotting a few seats, some complicated looking boat equipment and random day-to-day fun stuff lying around.

The smell of fish and sea breeze filled the air and your nostrils, but that scent quickly evaporated when Drew stepped next to you, finally finished with catching up with his friend and was now holding out a beer bottle for you to take. His cologne took over, overwhelming your senses. Something you were definitely not complaining about.

You accepted the beer from him, taking a sip before handing it back to him and watching as he repeated your action of drinking from the bottle.

Your gaze drifted to his Adam’s apple as it bobs when he took gulps of the alcoholic drink. He lowered the glass container from his lips, putting his strong bicep right in your line of sight.

As embarrassing as it is to admit you could have almost moaned from just looking at his muscly arm.

He must have taken off his shirt sometime between helping you up the steps on the side of the ship, his hand securely wrapped around your thigh to keep you from falling, and when he seemingly appeared behind you as you admired your surroundings.

Then your eyes found his chest, strong pecs priding over his abs that seemed carved from the very marble that Michelangelo had used to sculpt David, each muscle defined with an almost perfect precision to it.

Just before you could take a good look at his black swim shorts hanging off his hips and hugging his beefy thighs, his voice called your name.

“Hey, come on, picture time,” he reiterated what he had said when you were still zoned out.

“Oh. Okay,” Throwing your thoughts back into reality, you watched as everyone made their way over to the discussed upon place where the photo would be taken.

“Who wants to set the timer?” A girl, who you’d forgotten the name of, asked.

Something with an F? L? A? Who cares.

“Not it!” Was called by everyone but you, your face quickly morphing from a surprised look of “who the hell still uses ‘not it’?” to an accepting face that you were in fact “it”.

The girls and boys all took their places on the netting of the boat. The 5 people in front of you got ready to pose for the group photo.

Efficiently, you adjusted the tripod so that the camera of the phone pointed perfectly towards the centre of everyone.

You bent down, looking at the screen of the mobile. You saw Drew depicted by many pixels, your thighs clenching when he moved his hips up to readjust his position on the midnight blue blanket that lay sprawled over the rough nylon net.

Fuck, he was perfect.

Of course, you fixed your hair one last time before pressing the white button on the right side of the device, starting the 10 second countdown until the picture.

Swiftly, you made your way around the tripod, and plopped down onto the free space between a dark haired guy, you’ve come to know as Matthew, and Drew. You smiled sweetly at the round circles on the back of the phone as Drew slung an arm around your shoulders.

Once the photo was taken, everyone scattered and the usual chatter was back. You ran up to the phone and you looked at the image.

Well fuck.

Drew looked absolutely freaking ethereal.

His sitting in a reclined position with one leg bent and the other stretched out, manspreading, almost made you go feral. He was smiling widely toward the camera, his impossibly bright grin attracting all the attention in the photo.

His body looked like a dream. For a moment, you thought maybe you were dreaming, if you were you would hold onto the memory of the photo, even if it was just a dream, for the rest of your life.

God, pining for your hot best friend made you sound so so pathetic.

The thought that what you were experiencing was just a dream was snapped in two like a twig when Drew came up from behind you and flicked your bare back.

“Ouch!” You exclaimed, a frown forming on your face.

“‘M sorry, princess,” he swung his arms over your shoulders, holding on to you from behind like a koala would his mother, peering at the screen in your hands.

“Did it turn out good?” He asked casually, acting as if he didn’t see how your face was blushing an awfully deep shade of red and don’t even start to think that he missed the way you were obviously turned on.

“Yup,” you answered curtly, ducking down to be released of any physical contact with him, because you felt as if you would melt if he touched you a second longer.

“I’m um… gonna go below deck. The sun uh- it’s hitting me pretty hard right now. I have a headache,” you lied, coming up with some excuse to just get yourself somewhere where you can have your alone time.

“O…kay…” He didn’t seem convinced but that wasn’t for you to deal with in that moment. You made your way down the stairs leading below the deck of the ship, the room was nice and cozy.

With a sigh of relief you sat down on a wooden bench near the kitchen and slipped your phone out of your purse.

After a few minutes of mindlessly scrolling through various social media apps you heard footsteps nearing you, causing you to look up.

Your eyes met none other than Drew Starkey himself.

“On your phone when you have a headache? Really?” He asked unamused. “You lyin’ about the headache or you just stupid?”

“Stupid…?” you offered in a quiet meek voice.

“C’mon, sweetheart, what’s the problem, huh? You don’t like my friends or something?” He questioned as he sat himself down next to you on the oak plank.

“No, no, they’re great, I just…” You really should have been able to come up with something to say but the way his forearm was flexing as it rested on his thigh distracted you.

A smirk grew on Drew’s face. “No yeah, I uh-“ he chucked as he shook his head in what looked like slight disbelief, “I know.”

Unsure of the true meaning behind his comment you averted your eyes to the floor, focusing on the swaying of the boat on the water instead of Drew’s piercing blue eyes staring intently at you.

He leaned back with a sigh, his legs spreading wider and his arm sneaking behind your back and around your waist. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know that?”

All you could do was nod which earned you yet another laugh from Drew.

Just as you were about to persuade yourself to actually speak, you were pulled onto Drew’s lap by his arm, his hands quickly settling you on his thighs.

“Wha-“

“I know, princess,” he cooed.

You know you should have felt at least slightly degraded or mad because of his tone but the only thing it did, was make you want to clench your thighs together. Which of course wasn’t possible because each of your legs rested on different sides of Drew.

“You look so pretty today, baby,” he said, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear before moving his face down to your neck and pressing soft, fleeting, sensational kisses to the side of your collar.

Your breathing became panted and you unintentionally slowly rubbed your core along the material of his pitch black swim trunks.

“Not even a thank you?” He murmured teasingly as his kisses walked over to the area right under your ear and his large hands gripped your hips harshly, stopping you from any further movement.

“Th- thank you…” You whispered, your tone dipped and coated in your lust and arousal.

You felt a small nip on your throat that made you let out a small “Ah-!”

“Thank you…?” He muttered expectantly.

“Sir?” You tried, getting your confirmation of that being the wrong answer when a more harsh bite was left just under your jawline.

“Daddy..” you practically moaned out, the small pleasure that you got from the bites making you rut against Drew’s strong hold on your body.

“Good girl…” he praised, his face finally coming up to meet yours, kissing you softly but also at the same time with an unforeseeable force.

His fingers stopped drilling into the skin over your hipbones, letting you push your aching core down onto his covered thigh.

He broke the kiss, his plump lips and hot breath trailing over your cheek as you both gasped from air.

His hand roughly grabbed the back of your head, wrapping his fingers around your messy hair, holding you tight against him.

Immediately after, his other hand took hold of your hip again, helping you grind down on his swim pants.

“That’s right, baby, use daddy’s leg,” he breathed out heavily.

“Such,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your jawline, “a,” another kiss was placed on the corner of your mouth, “good,” he said before pecking your lips, “girl,” he murmured into your mouth before shoving his tongue down your throat.

The press of his thigh onto your bikini bottom made a perfect friction emerge against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“What about-“ you started.

“I locked the door, sweetheart, no worries.”

The way he basically read your mind made you feel even more turned on.

Your folds rubbed back and forth in your

soaking wet swim bottoms as you gripped Drew’s shoulders tightly, eyes squeezed shut as he continued to spew out praise after praise to you.

Suddenly a knock resounded throughout the room, a sudden halt coming to your despicable actions.

“Hello? Anyone in here? Why is the door locked?” A female voice asked from the other side of the door.

“One second!” Drew called before returning his attention to you.

“We’ll finish this later, yeah?” All you could do was nod, still completely dazed.

He picked you up off his lap, helping you settle back into a standing position and smoothing out both of your guys’ clothes.

With a casual smile on his face he unlocked and opened the door, spouting out some excuse for the door being locked before leading you upstairs with him.

For the rest of the afternoon, you sat, with a drink in hand, watching Drew talk amongst his friends, his eyes flicking to you every once in a short while.

Once other people started leaving and the sun started setting, he walked up to you.

“Ready to leave, princess?”

“Uh-huh,” you uttered out, standing up and saying your goodbyes to everyone that still found themselves on the yacht.

As you walked down the dock, admiring the sunset, you gripped onto Drew’s arm.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

You looked up at him with an “Are you serious?” face, annoyed at his nonchalant antics.

“Gee, sorry, okay?” He chuckled.

“I’ll make you feel good soon. Don’t worry, little lady.”

@emma-e-a

[kitten4sannie]

antithesis

pairing: peter parker/venom! yunho x gf! reader

genre: spider man au, smut

summary: your boyfriend is going through a phase.

w.c: 3.3k (porn with a microscopic amount of plot)

warnings: dom! yunho, sub! reader, venom should have his own warning bc bro is NASTYY (so is yuyu 🤝🏻), partial mind manipulation? on yunho’s part? bc venom is in his head? idk, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, teasing, fingering, hand kink….,, SIZE KINK., manhandling, pussy eating, tongue kink, raw feral sex (doggy + missionary), bro has a monster cock, also monster fucking!! bc venom takes over <3, cum eating, breeding kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, mind break, record breaking creampie

a/n: listen …….i LOVE venom, the things i would let venom do to me would set humanity back at least fifty years. NOW VENOM YUNHO ON THE OTHER HAND,, oh boy. boyyyy oh boy. i don’t think i have to explain myself when it comes to that combination bc this fic speaks for itself lol. are you curious now? why don’t you give it a peek then, hm? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ and then lemme know what you thought of it pretty please? <3

song rec: new woman - lisa feat. rosalía (get it bc he’s a new man - bc of venom - 😼)

fictober 2024

“And just where have you been, Jeong Yunho?” you asked your boyfriend in a more teasing manner than anything, once he snuck in past the sliding glass door of the balcony, getting up from the couch you were waiting restlessly on. When he stood there silently just looking at you through the white eye shaped sections of his mask, you pouted, nervously wrapping a lock of hair around your finger. “Just be honest with me and I won’t be mad, okay?” 

Despite the lack of sleep, you were ready for him this time. He wasn’t about to casually sneak in or out of the house another night that week without you catching him. Usually, you wouldn’t have been concerned because you were used to him being gone when there was crime taking place or a super villain that needed to be brought to justice, but recently…your boyfriend was acting strange. He was starting to become moody and secretive, opting to brush you off when you asked him about it. Yunho had even taken up using substances in his free time, finding him drunk or high off his ass in the apartment when you got home from work. The final straw was when you came home one night to find him in the kitchen with freshly dyed hair and new piercings he had given himself, a few empty boxes of black hair dye and bloody safety pins laying haphazardly on the kitchen counter. 

Yunho took off his mask and rubbed at his eyes like he was tired, leaving a bit of smeared eyeliner underneath them, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his frayed jacket, the one that was slightly zipped just enough to cover his iconic red suit. 

“She knows about us,” said the annoying parasite that had just recently made a home inside him. “We should eat her.”

“No, I’m not doing that,” Yunho grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

You walked up to him, gently putting a hand on his chest. “Yun, I just wanna know where you were at, that’s all. You know I respect your space,” you murmured, your pout growing slightly, your eyebrows upturned with concern. 

“She’s looking at us with those big round eyes again, Yunho,” Venom told his host, letting out a disgusting groan only he could hear. “It’s gonna make us hard. If we’re not going to eat her, let’s fuck her, at least.” 

“Mingi asked me to take care of some douchebags that had been causing trouble at that new club he works at. That’s all, baby,” Yunho replied softly, reaching down to press the back of his hand against your cheek, before cupping it. He noticed the teary look inside your doe eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You nuzzled into his big warm hand, before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck to hold your boyfriend close. “I’m fine…I’ve just been worried about you, Yun. You’ve been acting a bit…different.” 

“Let’s show her just how different we’ve become, Yunho,” Venom egged him on, knowing Yunho could feel just how much he wanted to break through the barrier of his host’s mind and take control. “She’ll love it.”

How could he possibly explain to you that he was always in a never ending battle with a frightening otherworldly parasite that had found its way inside of him? You would be so scared and disgusted, you’d probably never trust him again. He couldn’t risk losing you, not when you were his only anchor to the normal life he desperately craved, and the first person he’s ever felt this strongly about. 

“I’m just going through a phase, I think,” Yunho expressed wholeheartedly, resting his hands around your waist, his thumbs slightly pressing into your hip bones through your sleep shirt, feeling just how delicate you truly were. You were so small compared to him, practically swimming in one of his band t-shirts that you regularly wore to bed; you were so tiny and cute, and…”Malleable,” Venom finished. Yunho couldn’t tell if the parasite was influencing all of his thoughts or if he was just that perverted. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, Yun?” You pressed yourself closer to Yunho, feeling his large hands enclose around your small waist, making you feel a bit dizzy. When he shook his head, you tilted yours, wondering if what you felt pushing against your middle was exactly what you thought it was. “Or, do you want to take me to bed?” 

It had felt like forever since Yunho had touched you, kissed you even. You had almost forgotten what it was like to feel him inside you, filling you up over and over again until his love spilled out. Just the thought alone made your body begin to overheat. Was it wrong of you to take his simple answer at face value? Should you have pushed the issue, instead of letting him push you back into the wall of the hallway? You weren’t sure, but you were just grateful that your boyfriend still wanted you like this. 

“Did punching those guys at the club make you this horny?” you asked playfully, a sudden shiver of pleasure shooting up your spine when Yunho’s warm hands snaked up underneath your shirt and began groping at your tits.

“So horny,” Yunho joked back, a shaky exhale escaping his bobbing throat as he swallowed. 

 “Nnngh, I didn’t know fighting crime did it for you, Yun.” 

“Knowing I’m already getting your little pussy wet just from this is what’s doing it for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, having to practically lower himself to your height just to do so, able to clearly hear the breathless moan that left your lips. Yunho was already breathing hard, his mind swimming with constant racing thoughts that all pertained to his pretty little girlfriend and what he was going to do to you, squishing your soft flesh in between his slender fingers, using his thumbs to rub your hardening nipples in teasing circles. 

It had felt like eternity since Yunho had allowed himself to feel you underneath his touch, to even simply look at you with unbridled lust. He wanted to see all of you, witness the way you completely opened yourself up to him. It was driving him insane. Was it selfish of him to give into temptation when there was something else living inside him? Something that he knew was taking even more pleasure in this than he was? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew it was far too late to stop now. 

“Let us see her tits, Yunho, they feel so nice inside our hands, we need to see,” Venom demanded, desperately shaking the bars of his figurative cage. 

When Yunho tugged your shirt up and over your tits, your gasp became muffled, your eyes widening as he stuffed the hem of the shirt into your mouth. You were going to close your legs to keep your arousal from spilling down your thighs, but your eager boyfriend pushed his larger one in between them. 

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Yunho cooed softly, admiring the way you began to grind your cunt against his thigh, despite the sheepish expression you offered him, a bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth from witnessing such a display of pure desperation. “Look at you go…rubbing yourself all over my thigh like a horny little slut.” 

“N-not a slut,” you whimpered softly, his insult causing a fresh wave of slick to leak out onto Yunho’s torn jeans. “Just need you, Yuyu.” 

“Her breeding hole needs to be trained to handle my size. Do it now,” Venom growled into Yunho’s mind, growing more and more demanding by the second, very aware that his host was starting to lose control of himself. 

“Yeah? How about this?” Yunho pulled your panties to the side so that he could watch as your greedy cunt swallowed up one of his long, bony fingers to the knuckle. “Is that enough, baby?” 

“I meant with your human sized cock, you insufferable prick,” Venom chided, simply not understanding the pleasurable benefits that prolonged foreplay could offer being the inhibited hothead that he was. 

Something about the way Yunho was taking his time with unraveling you, the way he was drinking in the sight of your bare body with pure lust inside his dilated eyes, all while he had one of his digits plunged inside you. It made you pulse and squeeze around it. “F-full.”  

“But I barely fit one finger inside you, sweetheart. What’ll happen if I put another?” Yunho suddenly tugged your borrowed t-shirt up and over your head, leaning in close to your face to catch the way your breath hitched as soon as he slipped another finger inside, curling them just enough to hit your sweet spot each time he finger-fucked you, earning a few whiny moans from his beloved girlfriend. “Oh, that’s right. You turn into my little sex toy, don’t you?” 

“Y-esss, Yuyu, just for you, fuck,” you cried out, hooking your arms around his neck to keep yourself from completely melting into the floor. 

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned into your ear, quickly stuffing his thick digits into you, unable to get Venom’s ungodly thoughts out of his head all the while, unable to keep himself from shoving a third finger into you, your slick walls pulsating around him. “You think you’re feeling full now…just wait till my cock’s inside you.”

Gasping, your nails dug into his back through his clothes. “Oh my god, Yunho, give it to me, please, please, please,” you whined breathlessly into his neck, trembling in his arms as overwhelming pleasure washed over you. “N-need your cock in me.” 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re already begging to be fucked like that. I almost forgot how much of a needy little slut you are when you need cock. You like the thought of me stretching out your little pussy that much, huh?” He smiled against your heated skin when you whimpered and nodded eagerly, not allowing you to witness the brief moment his eyes turned completely black. “I just might split you open.” 

You almost didn’t recognize your boyfriend when he tossed you onto your shared bed like you weighed close to nothing, and you certainly didn’t recognize him when he manipulated your limbs until you were laying with your head down against the mattress and your ass up in the air. Usually, he wanted to do missionary, so that he could kiss and look at you when you both came undone, but now, now he had you in a position that was apparently ‘perfect for breeding’, or at least, that’s what you thought you had heard him mumbling about from behind you. 

“Now’s the time, human. We must show her how great we are,” the alien reminded Yunho, delighted that his black parasitic poison was now making its way through his host’s veins, showing up from underneath his milky skin. It was changing him in ways that would most definitely benefit all three of you. 

Yunho squeezed his large hands into the sides of your ass and spread it open, hyper focused on your dripping cunt and how it struggled to accommodate his obscene size. “Poor baby’s so tiny, my little princess can barely take me inside her pretty cunt,” he sighed, pulling out just enough to send a few strands of spit onto his own cock, lubing up the base of it and pushing back in, a shiver of pleasure shooting up his spine as soon as he heard the broken cry that left your drooling mouth. “Looks like we’re going to have to break you in.” 

You felt like you were losing your mind. Your boyfriend had just barely bottomed out inside of you and you were already about to cream yourself. And, it might’ve been the cock drunk state you were in, but you swore to god that his dick got bigger. It felt like it was kissing your cervix already and he hadn’t even moved yet. Not to mention, it felt so hot inside you, and there was so much pre-cum coating your walls, you almost thought he had came prematurely, but he would’ve been asleep and snoring away already if he did. 

Yunho violently interrupted your train of thought by slamming his hips forward, letting out a deep, long groan as though he were experiencing euphoria. He grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, tucking them together so that he could hold them both with one large hand, and quickly got to work, yanking you back onto his cock, using you like his own personal sex doll. “That’s fucking it, isn’t it, angel? You like that? You fucking like that?” 

“Yeah, fuck me,” you moaned back, realizing this ‘phase’ of Yunho’s was one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to the both of you, previously unaware that something this rough, something this animalistic, could feel as good as it did. 

“She’s ours, she’s ours, Yunho, fuck, we’re going to cum inside her,” Venom blissfully announced into Yunho’s head, fully taking over his host in that very instant, gracing Yunho with the symbiote’s much more endowed features. 

It was then that you let out a sudden gasp, the air that quickly filled your lungs leaving as a wavering moan of pleasure instead. It was almost as if Yunho’s cock had grown twice in size. You didn’t even know how that was possible, but you were too lost in the moment to question it. “So big, it’s so fucking big, Yunho, nnnngh, it’s gonna break me,” you exhaled, quickly pulling at the sheets once he gifted you partial physical autonomy, your eyes beginning to disappear underneath your eyelashes. 

“That’s right, pretty girl, and you’re going to keep taking it all, even after I’m done impregnating you,” Yunho agreed huskily, bending over you until his overheated body pressed into your shoulders and back, his long fingers curling around the softness of your hips. Just as his never ending seed spilled into you and made its way into your womb, Yunho dragged his long tongue up in between your straining shoulder blades and along your neck, savoring your flavor. He truly wanted to eat you, unable to stop drooling, but the annoying mortal he shared this body with wouldn’t let him. Venom figured he would have to settle for the next best thing.  

You didn’t even have a chance to finish shaking, let alone take a breath, before you were being lifted up and lowered back down onto your boyfriend’s face, your cunt fitting snugly between the curves of Yunho’s lips and nose. Just as he lapped at your extremely sensitive clit and slit, you couldn’t help but jolt away, his forearms suddenly locking tightly around your middle. “O-oh…!” 

“Hold still. Need a taste of this pretty cunt,” Yunho growled under his breath, angling his head back and opening his mouth wide enough so that he could explore the entirety of your used cunt, licking and drinking up the mixed arousal that spilled out of you to his heart’s content.

“Y-yunhooo,” you whined pathetically, reaching forward to hold onto the headboard to keep yourself from passing out from the pleasure that was overloading your mind, looking down to watch how he eagerly nosed at your clit. “Fuck, i’ll cum again…” 

“Then, do it, princess.” Just as he swallowed down more of your wetness, he realized it wasn’t enough, unable to keep himself from sliding the entirety of his tongue inside you, feeling you clench around the base of it. 

“Oh my god, your tongue, it’s so–haaaah,” you reacted breathlessly, digging your nails into the wood of the headboard, the longer his serpent-like tongue slithered in and out of you so seamlessly, unable to fully understand how any of this was possible. When the thickest part of his appendage rubbed at your g-spot, you saw white around your vision, your ears ringing, unable to hear the filthy slurping sounds Yunho was making underneath you as he drank up your squirt. 

When you came to, you were back underneath Yunho, in the missionary position he loved so much, yet this time it was profoundly different. His eyes were as dark as his freshly dyed hair, one corner of his mouth split open, inviting a myriad of long, serrated fangs, all while black wispy tendrils clung onto one side of his face like a second skin. You realized too late why Yunho was acting so out of character, and that you were never actually alone with him the past few weeks. You had an uninvited guest, an alien symbiote known as Venom, to be exact — and here you were, face to face with him, his disgustingly oversized cock stretching you wide open.

“Oh god, you’re actually going to split me open, what the fuck,” you gasped sharply, clutching the sides of Yunho’s cheeks, your fingers tugging at the ends of his sweaty hair. 

“Silly human, as much as we’d enjoy seeing that, you won’t split apart. You have a prime body for breeding, didn’t you know?” he chuckled darkly in a two-toned voice, pressing his hand down into your abdomen to feel the sheer size of himself protruding through your lower belly each time his hips routinely smacked into yours. “We knew Spider-man’s pretty little girlfriend would make a perfect host for our offspring. Just look at you, you’re taking us so well.” 

You didn’t know what was going to break your mind first, the fact that you were essentially being used as a breeding tool for an alien that would take great pleasure in swallowing you whole, or the fact that your cunt was eagerly swallowing up something so absurdly large, its heavy girth and width stretching you so wide, it felt as though you would fall apart at any given time. Despite the insanity of it all, your body and mind welcomed it, creaming yourself on his alien cock. 

“Good girlll,” Yunho praised, letting his long slimy tongue slip out to lick up the side of your cheek until he tasted the salt from the tears that fell down your face. He fully sheathed himself inside you one last time, before his large hands cemented around your waist, holding you completely still as his hot load joined the other one he had previously fucked into you, his heavy breaths warming the skin of your neck. “That’s it, princess, take it all, just like that…” 

You could hardly breathe, let alone move, simply laying still in your boyfriend’s arms, taking everything he gave you, as wave after wave of cum coated the insides of your aching cunt and flooded womb, some of it spilling down the insides of your legs and dripping onto the stained sheets below. It felt so good to be filled up in such a way that you came again without direct stimulation, letting out a broken cry, before Yunho silenced you with a kiss. 

When you opened your teary eyes, your boyfriend’s previously monstrous traits were gone, instead replaced with his usual soft, flushed features that you adored so much. You watched him open and close his mouth, as if he didn’t know what to say. You pressed another kiss to his lips, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Should we go to the drugstore to get Plan B?”

Yunho gave you a goofy, though apologetic smile, leaning his face into your neck to give it a few kisses. He pulled himself back up to face you, his eyebrows upturned. “D-do you think it would work on an alien symbiote?” 

You patted his head, knowing what you signed up for when you decided to date the Spider-man, figuring one of his superhero friends would have a solution for the both of you. You gave him a soft smile, happy when he returned it. “If not, let’s get a refund.” 

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