#i have it all under control don’t look behind the curtain | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

paranoiddreams · 1 month ago

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Hi, I don’t know if you’re accepting requests, but you could write something about JK where his girlfriend is accompanying them on tour and he keeps sneaking away without the managers and boys coming to sleep with her or take her to his bunk bed on the tour bus or to his hotel room... smuttt pls

OH MAMI✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

✧ idol!Jungkook x gn!reader

✧ WC!! - 1.42k

✧ Warnings!! - unprotected sex, jk is kinda mean!!!, he hitting it from the back😜, voyeurism(?), they almost get caught, or do they…, explicit language, idky but there’s smth going on with Yoongi, degradation, use of ‘slut’ once,

✧ A/n!! - I really hope you enjoy this, I hope it’s what you wanted! I love this request, and had so much fun writing it😻 The title is the song I thought fit this vibe ig, so if you want to check it out it’s by Chase Atlantic. Hope you all enjoy!! <3

“J-Jungkook, they’re right outside!”

Your sweet, caring, often naive, boyfriend Jungkook currently has you bent over the small, flimsy table in the tour bus he and the rest of the band are traveling the world in.

When he invited you to come with him on tour, you immediately said yes, because all of the times he was gone in the past felt like whole life times; It’s no secret you and Jungkook are inseparable. So, this year being a more laid back one, management decided it was okay for you to come this time. Although that decision in hindsight might not have been the best one to make.

Jimin and Taehyung can’t count the amount of times he thought he was talking to Jungkook walking behind him, only to turn around and see him glued to his phone, texting you about where to meet in the next few minutes. Namjoon swears he’s going to damage his voice from how much he’s been scolding the youngest for disappearing suddenly and coming back 20 minutes later with flushed cheeks and ruffled hair. Most of all, the whole band, including the staff, are annoyed by the obvious trips you and Jungkook take to the nearest utility closet at any hotel room before every concert.

But they’re not the only one’s slightly annoyed. You’ve told your insatiable boyfriend many times that he needs to control himself, but of course, he’s as stubborn as a dog. But then again, even if you’re vehemently opposed to his ‘adventurous’ rendezvous, you still always end up in this position.

Currently, you’re bent over the flimsy table of the tour bus, and Jungkook ramming his cock into you from behind while everyone is out stretching their legs; something you can’t help but be hyperaware of.

“J-Jungkook, they’re right outside!”

Your sweet, caring, often naive, boyfriend Jungkook is no where to be seen. When you look over your shoulder, you see his face contorted in blinding euphoria, his brows furrowed as he lets out low grunts of pleasure. He seems to not notice everyone right outside of the curtain-covered window he’s fucking you in front of, and if he does, he doesn’t pay any mind at all. You can barely hear a few voices underneath the sound of Jungkook’s cock slamming into you, making every little sound you or Jungkook let out seem 10x louder.

“W-We need to be quiet!” You stammer out in a hushed tone.

Although your mind is only occupied with trying not to get caught, your body is completely under the control of Jungkook’s rough thrusts. You’re clenching around him, dripping down your thighs and his cock to the carpeted floor of the tour bus while his fingers dig into the pliant skin of your hips.

“Yeah?” He growls condescendingly. “Better be quiet then, huh?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, your heart hammering in your ears as his growled words send shivers down your spine. You slam your palms down onto the table you’re bent over, your fingers turning white as you hold on for dear life from the pleasure ripping through your body.

“J-Jungkook! Please, you’re g-going too fast!” You manage to cry out through breathless pants. But your boyfriend only laughs in return, his warm breath hitting your shoulder.

He lifts his hands from your hips, his pelvis pressing against your ass as he slides himself all the way into you, staying there as he reaches around to grab both of your wrists. He holds them behind your back with one hand, using the other to cover your mouth. His chin rests on your shoulder as he turns his head to whisper in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin.

“I told you to be quiet,” he says in a low chiding tone, “do you want the others to walk in on us? To know how much of a fucking slut you are when they leave?”

A guttural, almost animalistic mewl leaves your lips, muffled by his palm, as he speaks into your ear. You feel him continue his brutal pace, slow but hard as he rams into your sore entrance. The thought of his words, to your surprise, send a rush of arousing embarrassment through your body, your thighs clenching together as you’re barely able to hold yourself up anymore.

Noticing this, Jungkook pulls out of you suddenly with a low hiss, uncovering your mouth and releasing your hands to grab your waist and flip you around. You barely even have time to gasp out his name before he’s lifting you up onto the table, pushing your thighs apart roughly.

“N-No! Don’t—!“ you start to protest, but cut yourself off with a strangled moan when he slams his leaking cock back inside of you, his hands hooked under your thighs to push them apart further.

“Look at you, making such a mess,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with an almost unrecognizable lust. Your eyes flicker down, catching a glimpse of his glistening cock pushing in and out of you, your combined fluid dripping onto the table beneath you. Your face flushes with heat, and you feel your second—maybe third?—orgasm starting to wash over you.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby,” he pants out, his dominant tone turning more desperate as he chases his own oncoming high, “god, you’re so tight when you cum around my cock…”

Your thighs shake as he holds them open, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and untimed as you pulsate and gush around him. As your euphoric high clouds your mind, and your judgment, you wrap your legs around his waist, holding him deep inside of you. Then you feel his warm cum spill into you.

“Fuck, y/n,” he whines when he looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. His hips rock softly into you a few more times as you suck him in and milk him completely. When he’s done, he goes slightly limp as he catches his breath, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

“You let me cum inside…” he whispers after a few moments, still a little delirious from his climax.

“Yeah,” you sigh, realizing what you did as the fog of lust clears in your mind, “I did…but only so we won’t have too much to clean up.”

Jungkook laughs adorably, as if he weren’t covered in your cum, his softening dick still buried deep inside of you. “Oh really? You made quite the mess too—“

Both you and Jungkook stop suddenly when the door to the tour bus jiggles, your eyes going wide.

In a moment of panic, Jungkook pulls himself out of you, tugging his jeans back on from around his ankles as you hop down to the ground to find your shorts. By the time you do find them under the table, the door opens, and Yoongi walks in.

“Yah—where’s y/n/n?” He asks in his usual grumpy tone, holding a bag of snacks from the gas station in his hands.

Jungkook flinches, determined to keep his eyes on Yoongi’s and not under the table where you’re trying to shimmy on your shorts as quietly as possible.

“Oh! Uh, she’s—uhm, she’s in the bathroom,” he stammers out, practically jumping to stand in front of the table, leaning against it to hide the obvious mess while he keeps his eyes on Yoongi.

After buttoning your shorts you freeze under the table, looking between Jungkook’s legs at Yoongi in front of him, the tour bus deadly silent.

“Okay,” he finally says after a few moments, “well when she comes back tell her I got those chips she likes.”

Jungkook nods with a painfully forced smile, holding a thumbs up for emphasis as he watches Yoongi walk towards the back of the tour bus. “Yup! I will!” He says, his heart pounding in his chest.

Once Yoongi is out of sight, Jungkook lets out a sigh of relief and squats down to look at you under the table.

“Are you okay?!” He asks with those big doe eyes you can never seem to stay mad at.

“Yeah, but now these shorts are ruined,” you grumble as you crawl out from under the table, cringing at the feeling of your and Jungkook’s combined cum sticking to your thighs.

Once you stand, Jungkook lets out an incredulous giggle, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to pull you against his chest. You stand there for a moment, basking in his warmth, until you both jump at the sound of Yoongi calling out from the back of the bus:

“Make sure to clean up the mess you both left!”

Seems like you’ll both need to work on your sneaking-around skills more.

Thank you to the lovely @kloserpeenguintiljk for requesting! I hope you enjoyed <3

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hadesrise · 7 days ago

Text

## one true love !!

summary──── ben feels true love with you, his enemy, and finds himself able to break from the toxic masculinity he surrounded himself with.

pairings──── soldier boy / benjamin x anti-hero!male reader

warnings──── nsfw content, porn with too much feelings, fluff, slight angst, foul language, probably (very definitely) ooc soldier boy, top!reader, sub!bottom!ben, gentle love, praise kink, hair pulling, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, overstimulation, vibrator, pet names ( love, baby, pup, etc. ), short oral ( r. receiving ), love-making, mating press, missionary, riding, aftercare, light D/S dynamics, pillow talk, a lot of vulnerability, ben proposes to reader unexpectedly, enemies in forbidden love, internalised homophobia, morally grey!reader, possessiveness, homophobic slurs, canon typical misogyny, reader’s anti-hero name is lucifer, reader has magical powers

author’s note──── i might’ve made him too soft and vulnerable, so forewarning that he doesn’t show much of his asshole side in this fic. the ooc warning already says much, i guess?

MINORS DNI !!

Peaceful jazz music and well dressed crowd fills the grand hall decorated in gold curtains, men and women from different wealthy families flaunting around their riches with drinks in hand. Adorned in nothing but expensive attires that feeds off of the poor were most guests that have been invited to celebrate another success of Vought-American with a superhero movie that starred its own team, Payback, while the heroes themselves remained in their pretty little costumes for the publicity and fame.

Cameras, photographers, and journalists lurked in the corner section of the hall, where they’ve been assigned to fulfil their destiny of capturing significant moments that are interesting enough to be written on headlines or shown on television.

Nights like this were when Soldier Boy wanted to beat the shit out of Vought employees for their incapability in making celebrations entertaining. The lack of excitement and chaos infuse Ben with excessive boredom that just gives him the urge to shoot himself in the head, all of its professionalism becoming nothing but a burden and straight up pain in the ass. He’s been hardly enjoying the night, having to put up with Crimson Countess attached to his hip at all times to keep appearances, which he admits is worse than fucking a loose cunt. It didn’t make him feel better that Stan fucking Edgar was watching, making sure things are under control.

The jazz music suddenly stops short with a loud screeching sound that has everyone covering their ears in pain, startled murmurs filling the air as all eyes turned to the stage where a famous band stood, confusion also plastered across their faces. One of them repeatedly presses down on the piano’s key, frowning when it does nothing as if it lost its function all of a sudden. Sensing the panic slowly rise among guests, Stan opens his mouth to speak, only for his words to die in his throat when the lights begin to flicker.

“You know, I’m quite displeased to not have received an invitation.” Deep, resonant, husky voice littered with confidence and cockiness erupt out of nowhere as the flickering lights return to normal, an utterly familiar figure making themselves known.

Gasps, of either excitement or fear, falls from everyone’s lips to your powerful presence that almost immediately caused a shift in atmosphere. Soldier Boy’s breath hitched, feeling his throat dry as he cleared his throat and swallowed.

You don’t miss the quick look of surprise and panic flashing across Stan’s face before they were hidden behind his casual mask of greedy businessman, making the corner of your lips twitch up.

“You’re simply not welcome here, Lucifer.” The man uttered with barely contained irritation despite his best efforts to remain calm, spitting your antihero name — given by, not Vought, but the public themselves — in distaste.

Amusement emerge on your expression, completely unbothered by the antagonistic perspective Stan sees you with.

There’s an underlying overconfidence and arrogance to the way you hold yourself, a man who clearly knows how influential and threatening your own existence is and isn’t even apologetic for it. It wasn’t just for a show — you knew you mattered, knew exactly your worth, and didn’t hide behind the fake persona of a beloved public figure that pretends they’re enjoying a single bit of what they’re doing. Your ego and pride seemingly rivals that of Soldier Boy’s yet yours come more naturally, like you were born with it without the need to develop them in amidst of your life to trick yourself into feeling more relevant. You held charisma, a charm that seems to pull people closer to you despite the dangerous, deceitful, fucking jackass attitude you had that’s supposed to be driving them away. It makes Ben want to either punch your face or suck your cock like a fag whore.

“Fair enough,” You shrugged. “But I certainly make parties more fun. You could learn a couple or two from me.”

Stan’s eye twitches in annoyance at your arrogance; it’s much worse that he can’t use anything to stomp on it because your ego wasn’t fragile like the others. While most men, supe or not, wrap their self-importance in toxic masculinity in order to feel superior than they actually are, you were fully comfortable with yourself. Your emotional capacity was extremely high that developed you to become invincible against criticism or rejection. He can attempt to hurt your feelings, manipulate you, use your own ego against you all he wants — none of it will force you to surrender or submit no matter what because you, quite simply, loved yourself too much to be under power hungry maniacs.

When Stan can’t seem to muster a snarky remark, you smirk and invite yourself in, walking further into the grand hall as you snap your fingers, the white bright lights turning into colourful disco lights with your magic.

You stared at the band members on stage, eyes glowing red, and forcefully overtake their minds to play an upbeat party worth music instead of the boring jazz they did. It’s not that you dislike jazz music, it’s peculiar and beautiful on its own, you’re just not really fond of formal parties where everyone’s required to be in their good behaviours, barely having the time of their life if not to shove their riches down less wealthy people’s throat, which you don’t particularly find amusing or fun at all.

It seems to excite the guests, some of them even beginning to bop their heads to the catchy rhythm, moving their previously still bodies along with the beats. Energy surges through them, life revealing itself within their eyes that was filled with misery before you barged in.

“Let go of the fucking formality, ladies and gentlemen.” You grinned wide with your arms spread open to your sides. “It’s time for a true fun party!”

Ben was in awe when all cheered at your declaration, how quick you were able to turn this entire place into your own playground despite the hosts — authorities — being present, how much of a natural you were at gaining people’s faith and attention without doing more than show up and be yourself.

It should be making him envious; he’s doing all these heroism, model, actor bullshit and hiding behind a perfect macho-man façade to be loved and paid attention to for fuck’s sake, and yet it’s so easy for you to bend people at your own will just by being yourself. He should be pissed as he always did when others get the spotlight more than him, but Ben couldn’t find it in himself to.

How the fuck is he going to be pissed when you look so disgustingly hot doing all of it?

“He’s fucking doing it again,” Countess seethes through gritted teeth, glaring at you. Her little tug on his arm snaps him out of daze as he shifts his gaze to her. “Taking all the attention away from you. With the rate he’s going, I wouldn’t be surprised if he interrupts everything you’re in.”

Ben had to pretend to irritably clench his jaw, and smiled with sarcasm. “As if I’d let him. Fucking asshole needs to be put in his place.”

He knew you heard him when the corner of your lips pulled up in a smirk, one of your brows raising to shoot him a challenging look. It sends a thrill down Ben’s spine as he scowled, giving you a death glare that everyone sees for it is; rage, hatred, despise.

“Pleasure to see you here, Soldier Boy. Crimson Countess.” You greet in a feigned enthusiasm, swiftly taking a cocktail from the waiter that just passed, and approach them in all your glory.

“Fuck you,” Soldier Boy quickly snarled as Countess spits, “Get the fuck away from us.”

Amusement instantly cross your face, nearly making both of them want to punch you. “So much for greeting lovebirds in clown costumes,” You dejectedly say with a hand over your chest for dramatic effect, in contrast to the mocking way in which you spoke. “C’mon, I just made this boring, useless party worth your precious little time. At least now you can stop being a pussy hiding behind an awfully constructed television personality.”

That strikes a nerve in Soldier Boy as his face hardened and a cold look appeared, stepping forward warningly, “I’d choose my next fucking words wisely if I were you.” Countess tugs his arm in a nervous manner while scanning their surroundings, taking notice of people watching your interaction.

You meet his glare with a calm yet daring look and leaned closer, “I wouldn’t. I know I can beat you.” Your eyes glowed in red once again as you grinned confidently.

Ben’s hand twitched, but before he could make a move, a woman approached you from behind and tugged on your elbow, interrupting the little rivalry you had going on. “I’m sorry, do you mind if we dance and have fun for a bit?” She shyly but bravely asked you, not even sparing Soldier Boy a glance.

An unimpressed look flashes in your eyes that only Ben took notice of, the subtle annoyance to the woman for cutting into your rather hostile conversation. You, however, plastered on an emotionless smile within a split second, not giving anyone the chance to see through you. “I’ll lead the way,” You barely looked at him before walking off with her to the centre of the hall where bodies swayed to the beat.

It takes everything in Ben not to square up and make a mess of this party when you started dancing with her, your body dangerously close to hers as she stares at you with a look that made him want to strangle her slim neck. As if you’re a divine sculpture created by Gods, like you’re the entire universe, most precious being to ever exist in this planet, like she knew everything about you when she, in fact, absolutely did not. But he does.

And Ben knows he’ll be screaming your name, holding you impossibly close to him, digging his nails onto your back as you grind into him — everything she wished you’ll do to her — when all of this shit show is over.

At the end of the day, no slut or pussy fucker would come home to you but him; you’ve chosen him despite the countless amount of people throwing themselves pathetically at you, and Ben will make sure he’ll forever be the only one who does.

Lewd squelching, sucking sounds fill the dimly lit bedroom of your home as the stench of sex and arousal surround the air, more prominent due to your and Ben’s enhanced senses. You sat comfortably against the headboard of your shared bed with Ben in between your legs as he sucks and slurps your cock, taking it as far as he can in his mouth and gagging. Tiny muffled moans or groans escape him occasionally, hips grinding against the mattress to stimulate his own aching dick while the vibrator you bought for him nestled deep inside his prepped hole.

“You love my fuckin’ cock so much, don’t you?” You chuckled hoarsely, almost degrading, and Ben shudders. “It’s alright, love. m’not goin’ anywhere.” Your fingers tread through his hair, gently scraping your nails against his scalp, making him groan as his hips stutter.

Maintaining eye contact with you, Ben inhales a deep breath through his nose before taking your cock further down his throat, tears gathering in his eyes when he nearly gagged. A genuine smile adorns your face when he looks at you expectantly, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen holding desperation and self-doubt. Pleading expression that he shows only to you.

“You want me to praise you, pup? Call you good boy?” He whines in response — God, that fucking sound you know he’d rather die than let anyone else hear. Ben doesn’t have any idea how much it affects you, the fact that you’re the only one whom he allows a vulnerable side of him show.

Realising he has to earn what he yearns for, Ben gently wraps his hand around the base of your cock where it didn’t fit and starts to bob his head. You moaned softly, throwing your head back; the sight being such a blessing to Ben’s eyes that makes his own cock throb and needy. He swirls his tongue on the underside of your shaft, his free hand gripping your thigh for support.

“Doin’ so good, love. You’ve gotten better at this,” You cooed, petting his hair and gently thrusting up into his throat. Ben closed his eyes, a blissful look appearing on his face as he relaxed and allowed you to move instead.

The trust and faith Ben has in you makes something explode within your chest, heart swelling in love and adoration at your troubled yet adorable partner.

Building a healthy and trustful relationship with him was more difficult than anything you’ve ever done before, considering the absolute bigotry his father forcefully fed into him and all the unresolved issues he had with himself. Despite the tough and harsh exterior he constantly put on, you had seen right through him when you first met — those broken spirit that yearned to be loved or needed by people hiding behind his douche, Soldier Boy persona, a man that his imbecile of a father always wanted him to be. It amused you as much as it squeezed your chest; one of the first strongest superhero being a fucking attention starved bastard was undeniably funny, but pitiful. It’s also why you fell in love with him.

You’ve accepted that Ben was always going to have a deep rooted homophobia in him, that there won’t be a day where you’ll be seen in the public with him holding hands like star-fucking-crossed lovers, that he’ll always be too much of a pussy to be fully himself — but you never expected him to be so open, comfortable, with you like this to the extent of willingly trusting you with a needy and desperate version of himself.

Benjamin is laying his heart out bare for you to take, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to make love to him or fuck his brains out. You decided with the former.

Confusion settles on Ben’s expression when you gently pushed his shoulders to make him pull away, a sudden worry if he’s done something wrong, but all thoughts flies out the window after you passionately smashed your lips against his and guided him on your lap. Ben gasps when you pulled the vibrator out of his hole and replaced it with your thick fingers, hooking his arms on the back of your neck.

“So good, love. Lookin’ all pretty for me.” He moans at your praise, the compliment making his heart flutter rather than boost his ego.

“s’for you…” They come out in whisper from his lips, littered with slight reluctance around the edge, but you hear it loud and clear. “All for you. I— fuck… just for you,” He grinds on your fingers, crying out when you curled them just right to stimulate his prostate.

You almost feel dizzy for his words that he’s never uttered before.

The utmost pride he upholds made it difficult for Ben to completely submit to you, often being a disobedient brat that needs to be put in his place or a quiet, reserved man that’s embarrassed to be loved by another man which causes him to be tense for the first half of this activity — so seeing him like this, hesitantly yet openly letting you in to his comfort zone, spilling the thoughts he’s always been fearful of admitting, holding you tight to him as if you’d slip from his grasp if he let you go, was pleasantly surprising. Your heart flutters, butterflies filling your stomach as the urge to protect and gently take him apart piece by piece runs like electricity through your veins, fuelling your desire for Ben.

You thrust your digits with gentle pace, Ben’s hips moving on its own to chase the pleasure. “That’s right, baby. All f’me, yeah? My pretty darling?”

The gentleness of your whispered voice and your eyes staring at him with pure love sends shivers down his spine; Ben holds your face and nods, pulling you in for a kiss. You can feel his suppressed fear through his desperate lips, the doubts that lingers in his mind that you might see him differently for being so vulnerable like this, and you quickly silence his thoughts by slipping your tongue inside his mouth.

Ben mewled when you add another digit in him, now having three fingers penetrating his hole, as he breaks the kiss to breathe for air. There’s a hazy look in his tearful eyes when he meets your gaze, “Take care of me, please.”

You groan at the plea, immediately pulling your fingers out to instead align your cock with his entrance. Ben must’ve been waiting for so long because he doesn’t hesitate to sink down on it almost in an instant, a loud collective moan escaping the two of you. Your hands gripped his hips while he rested both hands on your shoulders, and fuck he felt so fucking good. The way his warm, tight velvety walls deliciously clamp around you as if swallowing your cock whole, the way his divinely beautiful body perfectly fit against yours like he was made for you.

“fuck… you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” You praised, kissing up his throat as he threw his head back in pleasure. “Completely mine, so is Soldier Boy. Everythin’ about you, Ben. It’s all mine.”

Ben nods vigorously, gripping the back of your neck and starting to ride you at a perfect pace, tiny sounds escaping his mouth. Slipping his fingers through your hair, he gently tugged on them just enough that had you groaning, and laid his forehead to rest against yours. “Y-yours- ah… Yours as… as much as you’re fucking mine,” He grunts out, possessiveness hanging onto his every word that shot excitement through your body. “No one gets to f-fucking have you… oh fuck—!” He cuts himself off with a strangled moan when you snapped your hips up.

“Yeah? Not even that slut that danced with me on the dance floor?” You teased, smirking.

His bright green eyes seem to darken as he sinks even further down on your cock, forcefully stretching himself out, hissing at the delicious pain. You moaned, wrapping an arm around him to pull him to your chest. “Fuck, especially her.” Ben almost growls, one hand coming up to wrap around your throat, feeling you throb and seemingly get bigger inside him due to it. “You… belong to me, o-only me.”

You hum, moaning softly when he squeezed your jugular just right. “Always, my love.”

Relief washes over his entire body as he begins to roll his hips and move again, leaning down to suck and kiss on your exposed collarbone. “Oh fuck… It’s— a-agh…! Tell me- tell me, please…” He whined desperately.

Ben needed to hear you say it, have the promises of you completely belonging to him nailed into his brain so he’ll never feel insecure or doubtful again. He’ll never admit it, but you always know every little thing that goes on inside his head, those haunting words of his father that seems to have a tight grip over him. You’re the only one that could see right through his soul; someone exactly opposite from his father, someone who fearlessly challenges the normality or ancient traditions, someone who actually have their shit together that enabled you to be mature, wise, unapologetically yourself.

You were extraordinary in every way possible, and Ben knew his inner vulnerable — not quite the man his father wanted him to be — self was safe with you. Always secured. Never judged nor ridiculed, instead embraced perfectly by your strong and warm arms that shields him away from the mental, emotional harm.

He knew you would catch him when he falls. You would keep him and his treasured thoughts safe. You weren’t afraid to love him loudly, wholeheartedly, and Ben allows himself to be brave just this once without thinking about his fears.

Trailing one of your hands up his nape, you pull him back to a searing kiss, pouring all the desire and love into it. Ben melted, his hand on your throat loosening as you gently twist your bodies around to lay him down on the bed without pulling out. He whimpers and chases you when you detached your lips from his, which nearly made your heart explode.

“I belong to you, my love.” You whispered, kissing down his neck and chest, thrusting your cock sensually slow inside him. Nothing quite like the animalistic sex you two usually have due to your powers, but it was more right than ever. “My heart, my body, my soul, my spirit. All for you, belong with you.”

Ben feels as if his heart would hammer right out of his ribcage from how rapid it was beating.

Your soothing yet powerful presence all over the place, hovering over him and embracing every bit of the damaged part of himself that he refused to acknowledge. There’s resistance gnawing on his skin, the unhealthy urge to push you away and guard himself again with a thick wall despite being the one who willingly showed vulnerability, but Ben uses all of his ability to shove it down. He wanted to listen to your overwhelmingly romantic and gentle words that he’s been taught men should never utter, he wanted to be held with so much care like he was your most prized possession, he wanted to be actually loved. For once, he wanted to allow himself to not be drowned in the toxicity his father had force-fed him with.

It doesn’t take you a second to notice him relaxing even further underneath your body, practically leaning onto your existence as the pretty noises escaping his mouth seems to gradually get louder, like he stopped holding himself back.

An awe surrounds your expression, genuinely taken aback by him letting everything go, and a soft sigh of pleasure falls from your lips. “That’s it, baby. You make the most prettiest sound. Don’t hold back,” Cooing gently, you adjust your hips and rolled into him, brushing his prostate at a perfect angle.

Ben keened, arching his back. “Fuuuck… oh, please. Deeper.”

You obliged, keeping the same slow and sensual pace but pushing further inside. “You’re made for me, aren’t you? Just as I’m made for you,” You sharply snap your hips once to emphasise, and he cries out. “We’re one, my love. No one can have me, I come home to you and only to you no matter what.”

His breath hitched, the pleasure and your words sending explosions of euphoria into his brain, nodding mindlessly at your promises. “Y-yes, fuck… I’m- I’m yours, too— ah, hng…” Tears spill from his beautiful green eyes as he spread his legs more wide, one hand grabbing your wrist that was propped beside his head to stabilise your body, almost clinging onto you while the other scratched against the mattress. “F-fucking Christ, always- always yours.”

“I know,” You softly acknowledged. “Always mine, no matter how much some part of you can’t accept it. I can see right through you, love. I understand everything about you.”

“I- oh yes! There, fuck!” Ben sobs when you start picking up your pace, hips bucking against you. “Y-you do… God, you a-always fucking do.”

That causes a grin to spread across your lips before you leaned down to devour him again.

Truth be told, Ben was afraid of how much you saw everything he’s been trying to hide all his life. It takes a bit of his soul every-time he learns to be indifferent, more sick and twisted. The innocence in him had died out long ago, but the desperation of a child never vanquished — the pathetic, ruined and heavily deprived of any love someone that he always forced himself to forget or get rid of, was seen entirely by you without much effort. He didn’t need to say anything, you always understood all the hidden insecurity, longing, pain, and fear nested deep in his mind. You also understood why he was the way he was, why he does what he does, who he had to become.

To be loved is to be seen and understood, he guesses.

A love he’s never thought he’ll ever experience from anyone, let alone his supposed enemy. You gave it to him, though. All so willingly, happily, like he was meant for it, like he was always meant for you.

Strangled, loud moan was forced out of him when your hand wrapped around his achingly hard dick, making him feel dizzy from all the overwhelming desire and pleasure. Every bit of love that emits from your touch sends a frying electricity through his veins, fulfilling his inner thirst that was supposed to be unquenchable.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck—!” Ben wails, arching his back and digging his nails on your forearm as your thumb rubbed his sensitive slit and smeared precum all over. “C-close… oh, Christ! Cummin’, cummin’, please—”

“It’s alright, Ben. I got you,” You purred, slamming your hips down on him. “Let go, cum for me.”

As if that’s all the permission he needed, Ben instantly tumbles over the edge with a loud breathy whine as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, sticky loads shooting out from his cock to his stomach. Body spasming and head thrown back, letting his mind-blowing orgasm wave right off of him, still clinging onto you. You gritted your teeth when his hole tightened impossibly around you, feeling yourself throb and ache to release.

Ben — in spite of his cloudy, mushed state of mind as well as hazy and cock-drunk look in his eyes — suddenly wraps both strong legs around your hips to keep you in place, which forces you forward to bury yourself deeper inside him, eliciting a growl of curses from you.

His mouth splits into a dumb, shit-eating grin. “Inside, baby. Fill me up… give me all you got. I need you.” He moves his hips and squeezes down like a fucking expert prostitute, and it’s enough to have you let out a guttural groan as you spilled inside his tight hole.

Ben released a shattered breath, moaning delightfully at your warm cum that taints his insides, his hand that was gripping your forearm moving down to caress his belly where he could feel you finishing.

It makes your breath hitch; the action sparking a deep hidden desire and possessiveness within you that you’ve had shackled for so long in order to not be too greedy.

But Ben, oh your precious Benjamin, pressed down on his perfect belly and whined so brokenly that tugged the strings of your heart, as if he wanted something so unreachable. He attempts to bury his face on the pillow in what you recognised as shame and you quickly hold his face to keep him from hiding from you, subtle concern glimmering in your gentle eyes.

“What’s bothering your mind, love?” You whispered with such carefulness, afraid speaking too loud would break the bubble of sensitivity that surrounded the two of you as you pressed a light kiss on his temple. “You can tell me, Benji. It’s not embarrassing nor shameful.”

Ben’s heart swells at the way you cage him in your protective arms and words, the back of his eyes stinging from the tears that threatened to come out. He doesn’t deserve you; he never did, but you’re so good to him and he doesn’t think he can live without you. No, he knows he can’t live without you.

What would he do without your captivating eyes looking at him with so much passion no one ever gave him before, your gentle voice uttering such carefully crafted words that embraces rather than cut through him, your big and muscular yet warmly protective arms holding him like he was a treasure to behold, your soul healing and rebuilding every damaged bit of his spirit like it was your purpose? What would he do without you?

And fuck, everything would be so much easier if he wasn’t a fucking man. If he wasn’t such a pussy who’s afraid of risking everything.

You gently roll your hips against his, slow and steady, as if to comfort his nerves and overthinking thoughts with a soft pleasure.

Letting out a quiet, breathy sigh, Ben holds your face close and internally fights back against the restraints that wanted to keep him from opening his soul up to you. “We’d be… We’d be so much happier if I wasn’t a fucking man,” His whispered voice breaks at the end.

His heart ached and so did yours, a realisation dwelling on you of how serious Ben actually was with your relationship. It comes off as an unexpected admittance. While you knew he did love you like you love him, you didn’t think it was to this extent of imagining the countless possibilities if either of you was a woman instead, much less he’d think of himself to be the woman. It was odd and so unlike him — true love brings out something within people, you suppose.

Tears glimmered in his green eyes that’s filled by storm of emotions.

Ben hated this, hated you for making him such a crybaby and a pussy, but he’s so in love with you it fucking hurts. He doesn’t know what triggered him to be an annoying, pathetic, insecure loser the moment you held him. God, he’s Soldier Boy for fuck’s sake!

Then, you look at him with so much tenderness like he hung the moon and was the only thing that grounds you down to earth, and Ben realises it’s this.

“You’re such a fucking fool,” You affectionately cursed with a tone barely above whisper before pressing a lingering kiss on his lips. “I wouldn’t have spared you a glance if you weren’t. Women never captivated me, love. Only you.”

Wrapping his arms around your back and burying his face on the crook of your neck, Ben inhales your scent as you gently rock your bodies together. “Love me more,” He almost demands, voice low and trembling.

You smiled, “Of course, Benji.”

Pressing a sweet kiss on his head, you grab the back of his thighs and push them to his muscular chest, Ben’s flexibility despite his well defined physique making it easier for you to fold him. In a swift motion, you slam down on him, beginning to pound away the loud thoughts that made home in his mind. Angelic, high pitched sounds escape Ben’s mouth with each rough thrusts, bordering on pornographic. The blissful look across his face enhance his already ethereal features, and you can’t help but stare intently at him.

“You look so beautiful like this, love. Taking me in so well, letting me cherish you.” You praised, earning a needy whimper from the love of your life. “My Benjamin… my brave soldier.”

At the unexpected pet name, Ben’s body jolts and a choked sob erupted from his throat, suddenly pushed over the edge as he cums undone on his stomach. “F-fuck!”

“G-god, baby…” You groaned, shuddering in pleasure at the way his gummy walls spasms around your girth. “Drivin’ me insane, y’know that? Cummin’ with just my words alone? Shit, wanna fuck you hard and love you at the same time.”

Digging his nails on your back, Ben attached his lips on your collarbone with an intent to leave several possessive marks, making you jut your hips forward. “D-do it, fuck me.” He mumbled breathlessly.

That’s the only permission you needed to let go of your own self-control and just rut into him like an animal, thrusting your cock with more vigour and roughness that forced the headboard to repeatedly bang against the wall. Feeling the way your shaft practically drill into and rearrange his guts that brought immeasurable ecstasy, Ben finds himself finally unable to make out a coherent thought as drools drip down his chin. The two orgasms you milked out of him already left him sensitive enough, his thighs quivering under your grasps.

Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and wet squelches filled the room, accompanied by feral noises of both of your moans and grunts.

It’s nearly incomprehensible how you’re able to quickly switch between loving him and treating him like a slut next, a perfect balance to Ben’s constant yearning for admiration or appreciation and his tendency to always be an inconsolable brat that needs to be put back in his place.

He feels so complete and whole, so loved. And so so fucking dumb for your cock. He could stay like this forever without heavy expectations weighing over his head all the time, just taking you whole and letting you ruin his body, looking all pretty and beautiful for you. Yeah, he can do that. Being pretty and sexy has always been a talent of his, after all. He can even learn to cook for you like a fucking perfect, pretty housewife, maybe you’ll stuff him full of your cum again while at it and tell him to keep them in. Fuck, he can do that too. He wants to do that.

“Oh fuck, Ben…” An almost pornographic, low growl rumbles from your chest when he squeezed down on you, his warm walls fluttering against your girth from the imagination. The coil in your stomach tightens as you twitched inside him, too close to your high.

“I- ah—! Please, pleaseplease—!” He babbles, one hand shifting to press your ass and push you in deeper, syllables slightly slurred from how cockdrunk he was.

Understanding his wordless signal, you increase your pace with an angle that drives your instincts wild, a chill running through your spine from the overwhelming pleasure. Seeing Ben completely fall apart and surrender underneath you gives your ego an infinite boost, the powerful man such a sobbing, wrecked, pretty little mess just because of your cock. Drunk in every little euphoria and precious love you feed him. Oh, how fucking adorable and gorgeous he was.

Before long, Ben feels you throb inside him and pulls you in with what little willpower he had left, clumsily slipping his tongue in your mouth, overwhelming you with different sensations of his body against yours. It’s enough to have you harshly ram your hips down in one swift motion and empty yourself inside him, a loud wail of your name leaving Ben’s lips as he finishes as well. You feel his body tremble violently due to overstimulation, breath stuttering.

“You look so fucked out,” You laugh breathlessly, hips softly grinding to ride out your climax. “Still fuckin’ hot when you’re all dumb n’ mindless.”

Petting his disheveled hair, a soft contented hum leaves Ben as he closed his eyes and nuzzled to your touch. The entire erotic sight of his hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, tears staining his cheeks, hazy look across his eyes, and swollen lips sends amusement and satisfaction through your veins — you definitely fucked whatever self-loathing thoughts he’s had out of his head.

Having completely spilled inside him, you moved to pull out only for Ben to groan in protest. “Stay the fuck in,” He grumbled, panting to catch his breath.

“I need to clean us up, love.” You gently say, but kept yourself sheathed inside him as your lips attach to his neck. “Wanna take care of you properly.”

Ben quietly sighs in content, “You already do.” Before he tilts his head to capture you in a passionate kiss. You slowly pull out of him in amidst of the moment, holding his face and reciprocating with equal passion.

He breathes low and heavy when you start to wipe him up with a wet towel you magically conjured up, running it across his body gently as your other hand massaged his sore hip with such tenderness. Your eyes taking in every part of his physique feels much more innocent now compared to before, deep appreciation and subtle awe flashing across your irises the more you stare, which causes his cheeks to tint slightly. You find it adorable how shy or embarrassed he gets whenever you look at him like he’s something born out of the stars in contrast to the overinflated cockiness he displays when others compliment him; it just proves he feels different, more special with you.

You shoot him a gentle smile that makes his brain shut down and his heart jump.

Christ on a cross, just what did you fucking reduce him into?

“Will you marry me?” The words had left his mouth before he could even process.

You froze, eyes wide as you snapped your gaze to him at the same time his own widened in shock. Fuck, did he just say what he thinks he did? After you fucked him ‘til he couldn’t even speak properly? God, his legs feel wobbly after all that delicious pounding of your dick in his tight little—

His distracting thoughts were interrupted by your hands cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look at you. There’s a bit of doubt lingered across your expression, worried that you mistakenly heard him, and Ben’s gaze softened. “Will you marry me?” He repeats quietly this time with genuine emotion, wiping away your worry.

Excitement and happiness seem to explode within you as you beam; “Yes! Fuck, yes, I’ll marry you.” However, your smile slowly deflates and a foreign look of insecurity replaces the joy surrounding you. “Are you… are you sure? You’re not pushing yourself?”

Confusion spreads across his face, “Why would you think I am?”

“It’s just not that easy to break away from all the homophobia, love.” You softly remind him. “You’re still having a hard time accepting it, could barely even call yourself the right term. You’re afraid, and that’s fine. We can continue on like this. You don’t have to marry me because you feel obligated to.”

Ben frowns, his hand pulling you down to the mattress at his side as he props up on his elbow and stares at you incredulously. “You think I wanna fucking marry you just ‘cause I’m guilty about hiding this? Did it ever occur to you that I actually fuckin’ love you?”

You smile to yourself; what a long way it took for him to just be able to admit that. At least he’s letting himself know he can be vulnerable with you now, compared to when he was convinced you’ll despise his inner self — a big fucking pussy, he says — and completely shut himself off in the beginning.

“Hey,” He grabs your chin to make you pay attention. “I know I still don’t do enough to show you, but I do. I really fucking do, baby.”

You look into his captivating green eyes for a second before releasing a deep breath, “I know. Trust me, you don’t have to do enough to show it, I can already tell. And I love you too.”

Ben nods and kisses your lips, lying down beside you. Your hand instinctually attaches to his waist, caressing his soft skin and shooting warmth throughout his body.

He can’t help but stare at your features, the way you look different now from how you looked at the party you crashed earlier. A certain amount of coldness, hostility and displeasure usually lurked your expression in a daily manner — hidden behind the undeniable charisma and obnoxious arrogance — directed at others that told exactly what their worth to you was; nothing. Ben hasn’t seen a day you were even remotely pleased by someone in the long years of knowing you, the people who attempted to get in your good graces often ended up screwing everything up instead and irritating you enough to kill them off.

But with him, you wouldn’t even spare him a cold glance. Your gaze twinkling with a pleasant spark, always warm, always comforting, always proud. God forbid you look at him with hatred like you’re supposed to. So affectionate for a man who’s been named after the Devil by the idiotic public that only sees what you let them see.

It is then had Ben realised; to him, true love is you.

True love is when you embrace a part of him that he deems undesirable, mend his broken soul, and melt the ice of deep rooted trauma surrounding his heart — it is when Soldier Boy doesn’t drive you away from seeing Benjamin, an ordinary boy from South Philadelphia who desperately wanted to make his father proud. You see them as one, as equally significant parts of him.

Good fucking Lord, he was a gigantic imbecile if he didn’t want to marry you, even if the idea still makes him feel quite… odd. Fuck’s sake, he really needs to learn how to deal with this homophobia bullshit, doesn’t he?

Ben licks his lips anxiously, reluctance plastered on his face. “I… I actually got the rings,” He hesitantly admitted.

Your eyes widened. “You did?”

“I- Jesus Christ, of course I did! I know I don’t fucking do shit like that, okay?” He snapped before quietly muttering, “Just wanted you to believe me when I propose.”

“I do,” You don’t miss to give him comfort, grabbing his hand. Ben’s nerves soothes at your touch. “I just thought we still have a long way to go and you need more time to figure yourself out.”

He shakes his head, “Gotta claim you before some fucker decides you’re free for them.”

“Yeah?” You smirked, raising one eyebrow. “Could’ve gone with a collar, y’know. It would get your point straight across. Plus, it’s more visible.” Tapping your neck to emphasise, which made Ben swallow.

Yeah, you’ll look good with a collar in his colour. You can even wear both. That’ll definitely get his point across to anyone that even looks at you. Maybe next time, he decides.

A mischievous smirk spreads across his lips, “That’ll fucking work best. Think I could put a leash on you too?” He teased, letting out a chuckle and sliding his hand up to your neck and hold you there.

“Mhm, fuck yes,” You almost purred from how pleased you were at the idea.

Ben laughs, lightly squeezing your neck in affection before turning around to rummage through the cabinet on the side of your bed, pulling out a velvet box that’s in the shade of his green. You could tell he was enthusiastic and overwhelmed with emotions from the way his hands slightly trembled, though you made no mention of it to avoid bursting his adorable bubble.

His grin was as bright as the sun on a sunny day when the ring perfectly fits around your finger, already snuggling comfortably on your skin and bringing a weight of new purpose in life. You slip the other ring on his as well, feeling the entanglement of your destiny with one another, the red strings of fate on both of your pinky fingers thickening. It’s a sacred oath that ties you to each other forever.

Warmth spreads around your chest at the fact it’s his first time giving you a gift and it’s something so unexpectedly intimate. A silver engagement ring with a ruby in his shade of green and his name engraved on the inner side; practically a part of his soul, settling itself home around your finger. You shift your gaze to the one he wears — the same silver ring but with a dark red ruby instead, your signature colour, and you assume also have your name engraved on the inner side as well.

A big, significant step for a man who’s constantly afraid of what others think about him, and you couldn’t be more prouder.

Lying back down on the bed together, Ben turns his back on you and scoots closer to your chest, making you smile when he grabbed your wrist to pull your arm over his torso. He always loved being hugged by you from behind despite the fact he’ll never admit it out loud; as much as it sounds pathetic and unmanly, he doesn’t argue with himself of how it gives him safety and protection from the harsh judgmental world. Being in your arms always dissipated the cruel words of his father carved in his mind.

You gently pulled him closer to your body and pressed a kiss on his shoulder blade. “Don’t have to rush about coming out, love. It’ll take more than a simple courage to be open about something considered taboo by our society. You’re still dealing with personal issues, we’ll focus on that for now.”

Ben’s heart warms at your consideration, unable to resist the urge to stick to you like a glue as he leans back on your chest. “How the fuck did you do it? This feels like a pain in the fucking ass,” He muttered disdainfully, though there was a hint of willingness in his tone, like he’s willing to make an effort just for you.

You shrugged, “m’not exactly shaped by my childhood trauma, Benji, and I didn’t like my parents that much. Never really gave a fuck about somethin’ that has no benefit to my life whatsoever.”

“Entitled asshole,” He laughs.

“So are you,” You teased, making you both erupt in loud laughter.

I could get used to this, Ben thinks as genuine happiness glows bright in his heart, your love anchoring him and providing a solid land for him to stand on. Dealing with his own problems doesn’t sound so bad when you’re there for him every step of the way. With your protective arms around his body, both Soldier Boy and Benjamin knew their heart will always be safe with you.

For once, Ben believes he can finally learn to create a family of his own.

Until disaster struck and life suddenly decides to not be fair on someone as fucked up as him — ripping his world apart into shreds in the form of coward, betraying bastards known as his fucking teammates.

558 notes · View notes

jubshead · 2 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐤

Paring: Mentor!Lilia Calderu x Reader

Summary: With volatile and unpredictable magic you never know what can happen.

A/N: Still grasping how to write Lilia, so I hope it’s in character!

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

I hope you guys like it, let me know!!

Warning: Accidental magic, magic cock, blow jobs, vaginal sex, creampie, large dick.

Word count: 3.7k

Date: Nov 09, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist | Taglist

Tag list: @yourbasicqueerie @mgruiz @yippie-kai-gay @confuseuniverse @aggieharkness @thesharkwhalewhoohooooo @walkethisway @honkhonktheslutshere @ratsnestinmyhair @audreylise @kenzie-floops @pattiluponespopcornmaker @moonlightprincess696 @trindad2k @etherynn @astrxinze

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾��∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The kettle makes a hissing sound, the boiling herbs fill the room with a sweet scent and the morning sun shines into the stove. The gray haired witch hums a tune under her breath and walks around the room, collecting more ingredients for the tea. She feels freshness in the air, an inkling that something good is about to happen.

Sundays are always calm, she closes up the shop for the day and entertains her apprentice. You’ve been working under Lilia’s guidance for a month, being the only witch in your family meant that no one could teach you. You were lucky enough to stumble upon her one day when browsing on your computer.

You aren’t a divination witch, you still don’t know what your deal is, but your magic is volatile and unpredictable. Lilia teaches you with the best of her abilities, and that is more than you could ask for, you look up to her and dream of reaching her level of wisdom.

As you enter the shop, you hear her moving around in the back. Walking into the room, you halt when the tarot reader stops in her tracks. Her entire body freezes and she lets out an unrestrained moan in the middle of the kitchen.

Pursing your lips, you wait for her ‘episode’ to end.

“Hi.” You let out timidly, standing by the bead curtain.

She turns around, wide eyed and arms raised in the air.

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned.

She waves you off with a flick of her hands, facing the stove once again. Her visions always seem to sour her mood and leave you anxious, more times than not, she doesn’t know what they mean.

Passing the strap of your bag over your head, you place it on the squared table before heading to the counter. Resting your hip against it, you observe Lilia grab the kettle with a towel clad hand.

“Do you want some tea, doll?” She pours it in two mugs before waiting for an answer, you nod either way.

She passes you the ceramic cup and you rapidly grab into the handle when it burns you. The aroma hits your nose and you groan. Lilia always makes the best beverages and this time you smell a blend of lavender, lemongrass, and a few other herbs you couldn’t quite identify. The taste is as divine as the scent.

“How have you been this week?” She leans next to you.

“I’ve been fine.” You tell her uncertainty and amends. “There have been a few accidents…nothing I couldn’t handle, though.”

She hums into the mug as she takes a sip.

“And those ‘accidents’ were?” She probes.

Swallowing the liquid, you hide your face behind the cup.

“Okay. Let's start then. The sooner you can control your magic the better.” She walks past you, her robe fluttering behind her.

Leaving the empty cup in the sink, you follow her to the middle of the room.

“Did you practice what I told you?” She asks patiently.

“Hum…” You hesitate. “I did.”

“And?” All her weight shifts to one leg as she places a hand on her waist.

“Well, it worked!” You exclaim, trying to lay her off. She raises her eyebrows, waiting for you to continue. “To a certain extent…”

“Okay.” She takes a breath in and straightens her spine, arms at her side. “Show me.”

Transfiguration.

You’ve moved beyond learning how to change the corporeal form of an object, and have now evolved to modifying the physical appearance of yourself and others. What she’s teaching is pretty basic, but for someone who didn’t know she was a witch for most of her life, it’s hard to grasp, especially with a temperamental magic like yours.

Closing your eyes and concentrating, you feel goosebumps rise up on your skin as your magic flows through you. When your powers are under control, they feel like a waterfall being released, spreading over your body and consuming you. Outbursts were a very different story.

Opening your eyes, you see your mentor gently smiling at you.

“Good, that’s good.” She praises, and you break into a huge grin.

Receiving her approval is something that always warms your insides.

Grabbing your hairs ends, you observe the change in color. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was enough for you to see your improvement. You turn the purple strands back to their natural color.

“Great. My turn.” She says encouragingly.

Pressing your tongue against your lips, you grimace at her.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“You have to learn.” She tells you firmly before adding. “As a witch, you must know how to defend yourself.”

You blink at her.

“Relax, baby. Anything you throw at me I can reverse.”

Your brain short circuits at the pet name.

That was probably your downfall. Lilia always tells you true witchcraft takes time and concentration, especially for beginners.

Her expectant face makes you close your eyes, and let the magic flow through you again, but this time it's different. Your head thinks of nothing else besides Lilia’s voice and how she called you, you can’t focus on your intention and you feel the spell going wrong before it’s completely finished. In an attempt to join your jumbled thoughts and the power running over your skin, you imagine Lilia with longer fingers.

It doesn't seem to work because in a few seconds you hear a screech.

“Divine Mother.”

Peaking through one eye, you first glance at her face, her reaction making you expect a major change in her appearance. She looks the same, her hair still tied up, her nose doesn’t look bigger like some sort of wicked witch and her eyes remain the same color, the only thing you notice is her shock.

Her arms are raised breast level and that’s the next thing you look at. Expecting sausage like fingers, you’re surprised when you’re met with her usual handful of rings.

“What?” You frown.

Your gaze drifts over her figure and that’s when you notice the bulge in her skirt.

Squinting, you almost crouch down to get a closer look. The thing is huge, cylindrical and pressing forward, clearly constricted by something. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with what’s in front of you and you stare long enough for Lilia to clear her throat. You glance up and it dawns on you. Oh, god.

“What were you thinking about when you did the spell?” You gape like a fish out of water.

Was she honestly continuing the lesson as if this wasn’t happening?

“Well, I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking about that.” You gesticulate widely, a blush rising in your cheeks.

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sways. The movement makes her skirt brush against the hard on and you gulp when your vision is automatically drawn to it.

“Concentrate.” She tells you firmly and you meet her eyes, pursing your lips.

“Why are you losing? That’s a simple transfiguration spell, you can undo it. You just told me that!”

“No, it isn’t.” She speaks calmly, noticing she’s making you anxious. “This is a magical penis, a much more advanced incantation. You shouldn’t be able to do this at this stage.”

“Okay…?”

“There’s no way I can make this go away.” She speaks to you like someone does to a child.

“What?” You ask, agitated.

“Advanced magic, harder to undo.” She tells you simply. “There’s only two ways to get rid of it. The caster has to be the one to take it away.”

“Well, let's do it. It’s not that difficult, right? I’ve already put it there.” You respond with renewed energy, waving at her crotch.

This is not going to be a bigger problem than it should.

“No, it’s not easy. You did this by accident.” Your sight strays to it again and it looks like it’s staring right back at you. “You need to focus this time, so you can do it consciously.”

You hum absently before closing your eyes. The problem is: the image of that monster is buried in your brain. You focus on it, but the only thing that crosses your mind is its size, what it would be like to have it throbbing in your hands, pounding into you...

“Stop, stop, stop.” Lilia huffs in front of you, turning around and sitting on the armchair.

“What, what is it?” You follow her and stand by her side, she rests her forehead on her propped hand, eyes closed.

“You made it bigger.” She tells you pointedly.

The penis really does seem magic, it hypnotizes you and you can’t take your eyes off it. Whenever you notice Lilia isn’t looking, you glance down, partially seeing the bulge covered by her dress and robe.

Wetting your lips, you ask. “Well, what is the other way?”

“Huh?” She’s clearly lost in thoughts.

Moving to perch in front of her, you focus on her face.

“You said there are two ways to get rid of it. We tried the first one, what is the second?”

She presses her lips and you wait.

“It needs…release.”

“Oh.” You slowly back away towards the door. “I’ll leave and you can…y’know?” You finish by making a lewd motion.

She narrows her eyes, you stop dead in your treks. A small breeze fills the room as you linger, sensing there’s something more.

“It needs to be sheathed.” She pauses. “Climax inside something.”

You take a deep breath before asking. “Is there…Is there someone who can help you?”

God, you didn’t know anything about her personal life. Meeting every sunday meant you’ve only seen each other about four times, and there couldn’t be a worse situation to ask her that.

“No.” She tells you and, by the way she answers, you refrain from making any more questions.

The morning sun shines over the room, in the distance you hear cars passing by on the street and the silence hangs as you stare at each other.

You are embarrassed to admit, but it doesn’t take long for you to reach a decision. As much as you try to fool yourself by claiming that you wanted to help because you were the one who put her in this situation, you know it’s bullshit. Lilia has you on her hands, you’ve been attracted to her from the start and there weren't enough words to describe what she does to you.

Watching as she looks up, praying to her goddess, you move. She brings her head down to follow you with her eyes as you kneel in front of her.

“What are you doing?” She asks you seriously.

“I’m helping you.” You respond, lightly placing your hands on her calves.

Her palm rests on your cheek and you lean into it.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to do it. It's my fault you’re like this.” Seeing the hesitation in her face, you grab her wrist. “Please, let me.”

She stares you down and gives you a tight smile.

“I- Are you sure?”

You nod more excitedly than you should, the eagerness accidently showing on your face.

She doesn’t say anything else, so you take it as a ‘yes’. Her body is leaning forward, her elbows resting on the arms of the reclining chair and you feel how tense she is. The bulge is right in your face and with trembling hands you roll up her skirt.

The gasp that leaves you is involuntary. Butchin her dress at the waist, you take a moment to look at it. It’s mostly constricted by her underwear, but you can clearly see how big it is. You take a deep breath before pulling her panties down.

You stare open mouthed. The length is as white as her skin, the head is a light pink and a few gray hairs dust her balls. It weirdly matches her and stands proudly in front of you. The hard on seems painful.

A monster indeed.

“This looks uncomfortable.” You mumble, unable to take your eyes off it.

“It is.” A constrained chuckle follows the statement.

Biting your lips, you wonder how to approach this. You’ve never been a blowjob type of girl, when you used to date men you always avoided as much as you could, and even when you did it, it wasn’t enjoyable. This feels different, though. Your underwear is already wet just by thinking about it.

Your mentor clears her throat and you peer up at her.

“You don’t have to do this.” Her hand runs through your hair.

“Lilia, relax.” You tell her forcefully and grab her thighs.

One of your hands circles it and her hips buckle, palms fly back to the armchair and nails bite into the fabric as you slowly start to move. By the way it looks, it won’t take long for her to come and a feeling of disappointment dawns on you. It makes sense for a magical penis to be ready for action, but you wish you could take your time with it.

Running your thumb from the base all the way to the head, you collect the pre-cum in there before pushing it back and making the same path with your tongue. Lilia groans and you feel her tension melting a notch. You replace your fingers with your mouth, licking the bead before swallowing it whole.

It doesn’t take a genius to notice that this thing isn’t going down your throat without choking you, so you focus on what you can do. Taking as much as you can, you make up for the rest with an unclosed fist, using just the right amount of pressure so as to not hurt her.

Sucking tentatively, you hear a moan and look up. Lilia’s eyes are close, mouth open as her chest rises rhythmically with her anticipated breath. Her fingers are white from the grip, and you realize she’s holding herself back from grabbing your head and forcing you down.

You groan over the cock and bob around it, your palm going to her balls and massaging them. Eyes fixated, you watch her every reaction as she stiffens under you.

You feel your arousal beneath your own skirt, it clings to your core and you refrain from using your free hand to touch yourself, compensating by placing your heel under you and matching the movement of your hips with the one of your head.

Taking a moment to breathe, you feel hands sweeping through your bangs. Glancing up, your eyes meet your mentor’s and you blush when she grabs your hair like a ponytail, taking it out of your face.

“You’re doing great, doll.” Her voice is husky, you squirm against your feet.

God, this is not helping.

You swallow at the praise and focus on your job. Still looking into her eyes, you descend and take it as much as it goes, swirling your tongue around it and bouncing as fast as you can. She tugs your hair harder and you whine against her skin, the vibration making her tear her eyes away as she throws her head back, letting out unrestrained moans as slurping sounds leave your mouth.

Grinding your hips against your heel, you feel yourself getting wetter by the second and curse for having to take care of it alone. Her groin starts to move in its own accord, she doesn’t even seem to notice as her crotch drives up and harder into your mouth, you swallow and swallow against her, focusing on your breath and controlling the rhythm. She isn’t forcing your head, just holding it and that’s fine, it’s hot that she doesn’t want to hurt you.

Drool starts to drip down your chin and you moan louder against her, feeling the erratic movement against your clit picking up speed alongside your head. You close your eyes and take in both sensations. After all, it isn’t everyday that you get to suck your mentor’s dick.

You force your head back and inhale deeply, the faster the movement, the harder it is to breathe. Your hand continues the work and the other one joins in, circling her head and pressing it.

Pushing her cock closer to her skirt, you go down to her balls, sucking one into your mouth and sooner than you expected, her whole body tightens. She lets out a loud moan and her nails sink into your scalp, you quickly try to catch her climax in your mouth before it’s too late.

An inch away, you feel a sticky consistency gushing onto your face, landing inside your mouth all the way up to your forehead.

You grimace and lick your lips, tasting the saltiness of her cum.

Passing your finger over your eyelids, you sculpt most of the liquid and open them when you hear a ‘thud’ above you. Lilia banging her head against the armchair.

“Goddammit.” Her chest rises and falls with her erratic breath, there’s a red hue on her cheeks.

“Sorry.” You mumble.

“It’s not your fault. I should have warned you.” She looks down and shock flashes across her face.

You must be quite an image with cum stuck in your hair and dripping down your face. She stares at you for a long time and you squirm, taking your heel out from under you before anything else happens.

“We can try something else.” You whisper.

“No, love. You’ve already helped more than you should. I don't want to force you a second time.” She runs her thumb over your cheek, vaguely attempting to tidy you up.

“You didn’t force me, and I’ve told you before that I don’t mind.” Emphasizing your statement, you grab her wrist and bring her finger to your mouth, sucking, licking and moaning around it.

Her pupils blow hide and she turns serious, following your movement as you stand up in front of her, lifting your short skirt and straddling her lap.

She stares at you, eyes slightly wide and lips parted. The erection stands between you, a magic cock apparently only goes down once it services its purpose. Your wet underwear touches her thighs and a beat passes before you gather enough courage to lean forward.

Grabbing her neck, you give her time to pull away. Surprising you, she grabs your wrists and pulls you forward, crashing your mouths together. Moaning, you let her tongue guide the rhythm, she makes slow movements, exploring your mouth like she wants to taste as much as she can. The kiss is languid and teasing, she takes her sweet time and you begin to rub your soaked core against her legs.

Separating, you watch as she licks her lips, looking at you like she wants to eat you alive. You brush your underwear against her cock and she groans, grabbing your waist. You’re so painfully turned on that you don’t even wait for her to say anything before you reach down and push your panties aside.

Rubbing against the hard cock, you try coating it with as much of your wetness as you can. It’s been a while since you had anything this big inside you, if ever. It looks a lot bigger than the ones you’ve seen, your hand hadn’t closed around it before.

It’s going to be a stretch.

You take a deep breath before raising up on your knees, you brush the head against your entrance and Lilia’s grip hardens. Sinking down on the tip, you pause, licking your lips before continuing. You take it half way in before stopping. This shit wasn’t only wide, its length was something you had never seen before.

Noticing your struggle, the gray haired witch leans forward, attacking your neck and sliding your shirt straps down. Her hands run from your waist to your breast, her fingers pinch your nipples and you moan, feeling wetness stick to your thigh before your core swallows more of her skin.

Slowly sitting, you feel your center stretching before your ass finally meets her balls. You halt, adjusting to the sting. Lilia’s work on your tits helps. Your spine is slightly curved as she grips your ribs and her mouth bites and sucks your chest. You feel hickeys forming in your neck and you can bet she did it on purpose, you’d have to walk around with those purple marks for about a week.

She runs her tongue over your nipple while her hand massages your other breast. You begin to slowly grind your hips in circles motion, a vibration reverberating through your chest as she moans.

Accepting the pain as pleasure, you lift yourself once and then lower. Your mentor stops her work and bites into your neck, hands gripping your waist tightly as she helps you with your movement.

You’re so desperate that you can’t even tease her, after trying once, you continue, picking up speed with Lilia’s assistance. You’re both so aroused you can feel your orgasm building up rapidly. Throwing your head back, you moan without restrain, mirroring your mentor’s groans against your neck. Her arm circles your hip and she slams into you, meeting you halfway.

Her cock is so big, you can feel it beating against your cervix and hitting all the right places as it fills you up. Her free hand goes down and finds your clit easily, rubbing in circular motions. You let out a cry and your movements become erratic, determinedly chasing your release as your walls grip her.

She’s clearly holding back and when your movements become sloppy as your body goes rigid, she lets go. You both come together, ragged breaths mingling and sweat clinging to your foreheads.

You feel her cum filling you up, the hot liquid doesn’t seem to stop and you kiss her once more as she spurts inside you. This time the kiss is faster, harder as you pull her hair and whine against her when she grabs your ass and accidentally rubs your clit against her skin.

The cum starts to run down your thighs and wet the fabrics between you, her cock still throbs inside and you feel her balls shrinking in size. There’s an absurd amount of fluid and you groan against the kiss, the cum making you excited once again.

Pulling back, you focus on the feeling of her cock decreasing inside you as it disappears, you instantly miss the feeling of fullness.

Kissing her for a third time, you calmly run your tongue against hers as you replay all this morning's events. Thanking your magic for the mishap, your eyes widen when you remember something important. You pull back.

Licking your suddenly dry lips, you frown at her and whisper.

“Should we have used a condom?”

Her mouth drops open.

#agatha all along #lilia calderu #patti lupone #lilia calderu x reader #lilia x reader #patti lupone x reader

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marvelousels · 12 days ago

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GO AWAY!

authors note — okay so uhm in this exact scene i wanted to JUMP caitlyn even though shes my fav wifey but no one can hurt my baby vi

pairings — vi x fem!reader

call out my name — the weeknd playing!

The undercity was eerily quiet as you navigated its winding paths, the dim, flickering lights casting long shadows on the crumbling walls. You had no particular destination, just letting your feet guide you, the oppressive weight of the place a strange comfort. Then, as you passed an old vent manhole, you froze.

Soft, muffled crying echoed up from the depths below. It wasn’t the usual distant wails or drunken murmurs you’d grown accustomed to down here—it was raw, close, and unmistakably human. Concern flared in your chest. A child, maybe? Someone injured? Without hesitation, you gripped the rusted ladder and began your descent.

The metallic rungs were slick with grime, and the air grew heavier as you climbed down, the faint sound of sobs growing louder with each step. When you reached the bottom, your eyes adjusted to the dim glow of a faintly flickering bulb. That’s when you saw her.

She was slumped against the wall, her head bowed low, shoulders trembling as she cradled her side. A woman in an enforcer uniform, but it was far from pristine—scuffed, torn, and stained with what you hoped wasn’t blood. Her face was partially obscured by a curtain of pink hair, but the distinct tattoo on her cheek, spelling out "Vi," was unmistakable.

Behind her, a pair of massive gauntlets lay discarded on the floor, their usually imposing presence diminished in the stark vulnerability of the scene. She looked up when she heard your boots scrape against the ground, her bloodshot eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, there was nothing but silence, the weight of her grief hanging thick in the air between you.

“Go away,” she said, her voice rough and cracked. She hastily wiped at her tear-streaked face, trying—and failing—to pull her tough persona back into place. “I don’t want your sympathy.”

Her words were sharp, but the tremor in her tone betrayed her. You hesitated, taking in the way she clutched her side and the exhaustion etched into every line of her face. This wasn’t just physical pain; she was unraveling, and she didn’t want anyone to see it.

“I’m not here to pity you,” you said softly, keeping your voice steady but gentle. “But you’re hurt. Let me help.”

“I don’t need help,” Vi snapped, though her voice faltered. She averted her gaze, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “Just leave me alone. I don’t need anyone.”

You took a cautious step closer, your movements slow and deliberate. “That’s a load of crap,” you said, your tone firm but not unkind. “You’re bleeding, crying, and sitting in a vent in the middle of the Undercity. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘I’ve got it all under control.’”

Her eyes flicked back to you, narrowed and defensive, but she didn’t lash out. Instead, she sagged back against the wall, letting out a shaky breath. “I didn’t ask you to come down here,” she muttered, the fight in her voice dimming.

“You didn’t have to.” You crouched a few feet away, giving her space but showing you weren’t going anywhere. “I heard you crying. I thought it was a kid who fell down here. Imagine my surprise when I found you.”

That earned the faintest twitch of her lips, a ghost of a reaction that disappeared as quickly as it came.

“It’s not like you can fix it,” she said after a long silence, her voice quieter now. “What’s done is done.”

“Maybe I can’t,” you admitted, tilting your head slightly. “But that doesn’t mean you have to go through it alone.”

Her breath hitched at that, and she glanced away again, as if looking at you was too much to bear. You could see the walls she was trying to keep up cracking, the weight of whatever she was carrying threatening to crush her.

“Caitlyn hit me,” she said abruptly, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. Her voice was thick with emotion. “She… she kissed me, and then she hit me. The one person I thought… the one person I still had…” Her voice broke, and she clenched her jaw, furious at herself for letting it out.

You didn’t rush to respond, letting the moment sit. Sometimes, people didn’t need answers—they just needed to be heard.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. It wasn’t much, but it was honest.

Vi let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, well. Sorry doesn’t fix a damn thing, does it?”

“No, but it’s a start,” you said, your gaze steady. “And so is this. Talking. Letting someone in, even if it’s just for a little while.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her eyes flicking between you and the gauntlets behind her. Finally, she exhaled deeply, her shoulders slumping as if the fight had finally left her.

“You’re stubborn, you know that?” she muttered, her voice tinged with reluctant gratitude.

“Maybe,” you said with a small smile. “But I think you could use a little stubbornness in your corner right now.”

Vi didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment. It wasn’t a victory, not really, but it was enough. For now, she let you stay, and that was a start.

#arcane #fanfiction #vi arcane #angst #light angst #caitlyn kiramman #vi x reader #friends #fluff

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superprincesspea · 5 months ago

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Say My Name

Sharako Lohar invites Tyland Lannister to share a night of passion with her many wives.

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Orgy

Word Count: 1,972

Masterlist

~~~

“How many wives do you have?”

The moment Tyland asked the question, he regretted it, and the answer seemed of little importance, because even one woman, warm and willing, was more than enough. More than he could wish for, and it had been a while, too long in fact, since he’d last shared a night with anything other than his hand.

“Why don’t I show you?” Lohar said, slapping her thigh before jumping onto her feet, and once more, he found himself marvelling at this strange pirate Admiral. He’d never seen anything like her, and if he was honest, he'd never hope to again. The world could only stand to harbour one Sharako Lohar, and perhaps one was one too many.

“Come,” she insisted, hauling him up under his arm.

“Right now ?” he confirmed, and the look in her eye was positively feral.

He should have just gone to bed, should have never asked that dammed question. But curiosity had gotten the better of him, or perhaps he was giving too much credit to his mind, when it had been his cock which had done the talking.

She laughed, as though his question was absurd, and perhaps it was absurd to a person with more than one wife.

Then she began to lead the way, and Tyland followed, to a place where the revelry of drinking and sea shanties were dimmed but not forgotten. To where a heavy curtain pulled back, revealing a room draped with plush fabrics in every colour and pattern imaginable, rugs and cushions lit tering the floor, and women, so many women.

He counted at least twelve. Some sleeping, some talking, some... he swallowed hard, doing other things.

“These are your wives?” he said, trying to keep his voice from cracking, as he gestured across the room, trepidation inching into his veins with far more strength than desire.

“ Some of them,” Lohar grinned, treading carefully as she made her way into the swell of bodies, so not to step on the silky-smooth limbs sprawled across the floor.

“What say you, Tylo ?” she asked, hand on her hip, goblet of wine raised in the air.

“ Tyland, ” he reminded her, and not for the first time since their meeting.

“Well? Which wife would you like to plough first?”

He coughed, choking on the gasp of shock which tried to escape his lips. He hadn’t thought her offer an entirely serious one, she didn’t seem to take anything too seriously. But the way her wives were all looking at him, was anything but a joke.

They could eat him alive. Nay, they would eat him alive.

He tugged a steadying hand at the front of his tunic, straightening his spine, as though his stance or masculinity held any authority in this room, and it didn’t. It certainly didn’t.

Hands grasped his hands, two women pulling him into the middle of the room while the curtain closed behind him. Then he was on the floor, more hands pulling at his buttons, unbuckling his belt, stroking through his hair, a kiss on his cheek, a caress across his thigh.

He didn’t know where to look, what to feel, or what to do except, take it , and all of it under the watchful eye of Lohar, who paced a circle around the scene, drinking intently from the goblet clutched in her hand.

He was naked in no time at all, and he was hard, of course he was hard, these women were beautiful and all so different, a true feast for the eyes and the hands, and... quite frankly, his cock.

“ Fuck ,” he gritted out, he rarely swore and never in front of a lady, but there were no other words, no other feeling. Just fuck .

Hands touched him everywhere, their light caresses breezing across his skin, then one of the wives leaned in to kiss him, her eyes so dark they were almost black, before he was tasting the sweet wine on her skillful tongue as she took control of his mouth.

He needed to touch her, to tangle his fingers with the tight coils of hair falling across his cheek, but his hands were held back, and so were his feet, not that he wanted to fight it, what man would fight this?

The woman was still kissing him, his bottom lip trapped between her teeth in a nibble which boarded on the right side of painful, when he felt one of those wandering hands brush across his cock.

It twitched, alert , and he drew in a tight breath, wanting to see who it was that touched him there , but his body was not his own, and his vision was shielded by breasts, and hair, and hands, and kisses.

A second wife took turns with the first to kiss him until he could barely breathe, then a third took him into her mouth, carefully , just the tip, her tongue flat and teasing, and so slow, so painfully slow.

He tried to rut his hips up, to feel more of her, but Lohar was standing over him, her bare foot pressed onto his chest, holding him down, making him wait, and wait, until his cock was finally sheathed in the hot embrace of a stranger's mouth.

Then she freed him, and he didn’t want to move at all, just feel, tongue and pressure, up and down. Soft hands still exploring, he couldn’t last much longer, not like this. He felt the pressure building and tried to think of anything to stop it from bubbling over.

Mud pits, Aegon, Vhagar, Caraxes... oh fuck.

He was half drunk on pleasure, when he noticed Lohar settle on the ground, laying on her stomach so she could watch the way his face contorted, his muscles tightening, holding on, desperately holding on.

“You like this?” she asked, that bright white smile reappearing, almost laughing.

“ Yes ,” his voice was strained, everything was strained, and strange, and so fucking marvellous.

And Lohar seemed pleased by this, her attention flicking to a place behind him, where he could only imagine another wife was waiting. “Sit on his face,” she said.

“What?” he gasped, barely able to hold a conscious thought, before she knelt either side of his head and lowered herself just close enough for him to taste her.

“Eat up Tyler , take your fill, there’s plenty of pussy for all of us,” Lohar laughed, and she was sitting up now, with a wife on her knee, her fingers reaching between the woman’s legs, rubbing, spreading, pushing inside.

“It's Tyland,” he said again, but his voice was weak, and who fucking cared what his name was, when there was a womans pussy glistening right in front of him.

He arched his neck, so he could get closer, his tongue soft and slick as it explored between her legs with one slow lick. He didn’t even know what she looked like, but she tasted good, sweet and wanting, his tongue finding her swollen bud and swirling pressure across it in time with the soft sway of her hips.

Then his hands broke free from restraint, or perhaps he was released, so his fingers could press tightly into the wonderful curve of her arse. He needed her closer, needed his tongue to sink into her, to feel her. She cried out, her body shaking, on the very edge of bliss, and he intended to send her spiralling.

He replaced his tongue with two fingers, pumping them in and out of her, while he lapped again at that swollen bud, faster and faster, until her next cry was one of release.

He watched her afterwards, coming down from the high, her hands clutched to her breasts, so beguiling and so unlike any woman he’d seen in the Red Keep.

But the sound of her pleasure, had only made him more desperate for his own. He thrust his hips up, craving touch, craving his own release, only to realise there were no more tongues torturing the length of his cock, and perhaps that had been a good thing.

“You want more, Typot?” Lohar said, and he didn’t need to answer, when one wife moved, another was upon him.

Not on his face, but on his thighs, her hand wrapping tightly around his desperate cock, pumping it, teasing it.

He was about to beg for more, when she held him straight and true, and sank her body down onto his, the tight embrace of her pussy grasping him from root to tip until his toes were curling.

“ Seven save me ,” he hissed, thinking he should slow the pace she began to set upon him, but finding it too compelling to resist.

This room of pirate wives was a realm of pleasure he had never imagined, and if he died tomorrow, it would be with a worn-out cock and a smile on his face.

He closed his eyes, giving himself to these women. To more touches, hands and tongues, and the unrelenting thrust of pleasure, which worked up and down his cock, winding the need for release tighter and tighter.

He was so close now. He needed to come, and he couldn't wait any longer, so he began to match her thrusts with his own. Grinding up into her, despite the hands still trying to hold him down. Then she stopped, and his eyes sprang open, to see Lohar, resting a steadying hand on her wife's shoulder.

“I want to see how you really fuck her,” she said, before tugging the wife up, and guiding her onto all fours.

His cock felt cold, and more needy than ever before, so he didn’t need telling twice. He could hardly move fast enough, feeling no shame at all, in the way the women watched as he lined himself up at her entrance and pushed back inside.

His head fell back, relief, sweet relief, then he began to move, slowly at first, his hands tracing the wonderful shape of her figure, before finding a home on her hips, so he could hold her steady while he took her with more intensity.

Again, he could feel the mounting pressure, his balls tightening, then Lohar was on him, kneeling behind him, her hips pushing into his, controlling his thrusts, as though it was her cock which fucked this woman, and he was just a tool. To be used, to be milked dry, and he’d be damned if he didn’t love every moment.

“Make her come,” Lohar demanded, her tongue sliding across the shell of his ear, and who was he to disobey an order from the Admiral?

He reached between the wife's legs, finding the spot which would tear her apart, while Lohar kept control of his body, guiding him harder, slamming him into her wife.

He wasn’t sure how much more stimulation he could take, holding onto his release was becoming impossible, and then he felt her, this stranger, her pussy flooding with warmth before it pulsed with an orgasm and claimed the last shred of his resolve.

“Say my name,” he all but roared, his hips jerky, despite the press of Lohar’s control.

“Tyland Lannister,” she whispered in his ear, like a secret, like a promise, as he finally unleashed his pleasure and filled this woman with the hot ropes of his seed.

“Good,” Lohar commended him, slapping his arse, “now let us start on the rest.”

Delirious, Tyland struggled to catch his breath, before he opened his eyes to look at the other wives, who were all waiting, like a pack of rabid cats, for their turn.

Swiping his hand across his face, he hoped he didn’t look as worn out as he felt. This might take all night, but if it was for King and country, he supposed he could muster the energy to fuck the whole damn fleet.

~~~

Thank you for reading! I just couldn't stop thinking about these two and needed to write something for them. I hope you enjoyed it <3

#tyland lannister #sharako lohar #hotd #house of the dragon #admiral lohar #fanfiction #tyland lannister/sharako lohar #tyland lannister/original female character #tyland lannister/ofc

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nightdncer · 7 months ago

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“ 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 , 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 ”

✦ synopsis : it’s your birthday , and how will your boyfriend celebrate it ?

✦ warnings : fluff , crack , fem!reader , fem!reader x character , pet names , got lazy writing

✦ characters : Suguru Geto , Satoru Gojo , Ryomen Sukuna

✦ credits idea : @biscu1ts - Satoru + Sukuna

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

you just woke up, the curtains already open while the birds were chirping as usual. you looked outside, it was as pretty as always. the wind running around while the sun is hidden behind the clouds. suddenly, you hear the bedroom door open.

you get surprised and looked at how was there. it was your boyfriend, Suguru. he had a plate with breakfast on it. “Suguru?” you say, surprised he even had that plate in his hand.

is he just trying to give you breakfast in the bed today morning? is he going to another early mission and he’s just trying to gift you with something before he goes? you don’t know. you completely forgot what today was.

“dear, don’t you remember what today is?” he asks, having a slight teasing tone in his voice while he sits beside of you, the plate in his lap. you looked at him, confused. you think about it. nothing comes to mind.

“aww, seems like you don’t remember, birthday girl.” he coos in your ear with a complete teasing tone in it. you then remember, today was your birthday. “oh!” you say, finally knowing what he was talking about and why he had the plate in his lap.

“cmon, eat.” he says brining one of the food into your mouth, his thumb on your lip while the rest under your chin, forcing you to eat. you didn’t complain though. after all, you were 𝘩𝘪𝘴 birthday girl.

after you ate, he picks you up and goes to the bathroom, brushing your teeth for you. “your so cute when you’re under my control, dear.” he teases. after he finish brushing your teeth for you, he brings you onto the couch as you sit in his lap.

“don’t worry about any missions, I took everything off for you.” he commented, braiding your hair.

suddenly, you feel a vibration in his pant, his phone was ringing. Suguru ignores it, and picks it up when he finally finish braiding your hair. it was his best friend, Satoru.

“what?” he asks, putting the phone to his ear while you rest your head against his chest. it was as warm as always.

“I don’t want to talk to you, I wanna talk to her!” he says, but only Suguru could hear. “fine… just don’t try to hit on her.” Suguru warns, as he hands the phone to you. “it’s Satoru.” he whispers to you.

you nod your head against his chest, as you put the phone to your ear you instantly hear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Y/N!” Satoru screams into the phone, while you hear confetti dance in the air.

“happy birthday!” Haibara says in the background, while Nanami and Shoko just calmly said “happy birthday,” to you.

you smile calmly, as Suguru whispers in your ear, “happy birthday, dear.”

*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

you wake up in bed, instantly trying to find your boyfriend in the bed. he was nowhere, not in the bedroom at the slightest. you hug your knees, thinking he left for a mission. but he didn’t leave a note beside the bed as usually.

then, you feel someone’s arm wrap around your waist. “surprise, lovely!” he says loudly and energetic, kissing you neck. you slightly squeal from the surprise hug. you then realized he was under the bed.

“how long were you under there….?” you say, looking behind you to see him continuing to kiss your neck, leaving trails. “not too long. only for about a minute before you woke up.” he said, ruffling your hair teasingly. “now, cmon, birthday darling,” he says as he gets up, you in his arms.

“let’s get ready,” he said. “ready for what?” you asked, looking up at him while he brings you into the bathroom. “I’m gonna spoil you.” he replies, “why wouldn’t I?” he asked teasingly, as he brushes his teeth while you brush yours.

after you two finish brushing your teeth, he sits you on the bed and gives you a sundress that matches your eye color, with a white shirt under. “I bought this for you yesterday.” he commented.

you suddenly notices something with the white shirt.

is that 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵?

he leaves the room, waiting for you to change while he was already dressed up. he was dressed up when he hugged you, so he probably got ready some minutes before he went under the bed to surprise you.

you finish changing, walking out of the bedroom running up to Satoru. when he hears your feet clicking on the floor he looks behind to see you. “you’re as beautiful as ever.” he complimented you, grabbing your wrist gently, sitting you on the couch and he puts on you shoe.

once he finish putting on your shoe, he carries you to the car, you being his passenger princess as always.

you two were at the mall now, him choosing clothes for you. “you want this one?” he asks. you nod, but say “you don’t have to-” he shuts you up by putting his hand on your mouth, saying, “I’ll get this for you.”

he then finds matching jewelry for you to, one with your initials and one for his. “that’s cute, but-” he cuts you off before you finished your sentence. “we’re getting this for you, hun.”

*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

you wake up, feeling like someone or something was watching you. you look up at your boyfriend, Sukuna, watching you sleep. he slightly becomes flustered when he gets caught looking at you, instantly looking to the side when your and his gaze meet each other.

“fuck…” he mutters under his breath, feeling your head rest on his shoulder, looking up at him with teasing expression. “is someone being a full on softie today?” you ask, knowing today was your birthday.

“no.” he replied back sternly, but you knew he was trying to act all cold and tough with a blush still on his cheeks. “lies.” you teased, as he grabs your wrist and pulls onto his lap. he sighed softly, slowly starting to braid your hair.

he never does this. maybe he’s being soft because todays your birthday?

“… happy birthday,” he says randomly. you look up at him, surprised he even said that to you. you remember him saying that it’s stupid for mortals to celebrate their birthday since it counts up to your death, but he still said it.

he finishes braiding your hair, then making your stomach meet his shoulder, you looking behind him. he then walks outside to the porch, sitting you down on the swing that was attached to the tree, just and 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 for you to use.

not even Uramue can use. well, that’s what Sukuna says, but you let her use it. after all, you and her were besties at this point, you being her first ever human friend. Sukuna comes back with flowers in his hand, put the flowers in your braided hair.

“you are being a softie!” you teased. “shut up, it’s just a weird feeling.” he said, trying to deny it, but you knew better. you knew he wanted to treat you like how a human boyfriend would for one day out of the whole year.

“hmph….” he grunts, knowing you knew better. “I just want to treat you like how the other mortals would treat their…. girlfriend.” he confesses. you get surprised at him calling you his girlfriend. you were his girlfriend, but he just never admitted it.

“now, don’t get surprised.. love.” he says softly, finally calling you a pet name. he’s called you many pet names before, but he rarely ever does so.

he then walks in front of you, going onto his two knees, the so called “monster” finally resting on your lap. his arms then wrap around your legs, slowly falling asleep. you giggle softly at him acting all soft for once, playing with his hair to make him fall asleep.

he wasn’t a monster to your eyes, he was just a big softy.

#nightdncer #fem!reader #fluff #crack fic #geto suguru #satoru gojo #ryomen sukuna #jjk suguru #jjk satoru #jjk sukuna #geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader

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noforkingclue · 5 months ago

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Okay. So stinking with Jack Russell (and I'm not sure if this was asked already) but could you do some romantic fluff with Jack in his werewolf form?

Of course! Always up for writing something fluffy involving everyone's favourite werewolf. Sorry this took so long to publish but I hope you like the fic :)

Title: Surprises

Jack had always warned you about his werewolf form. Whenever it was a full moon he always made sure to be as far away from you as possible. He said that it was his worst nightmare to accidentally hurt you while he was transformed. Jack couldn’t control the wolf.

However, this night was different.

A heavy object fell against your chest. You woke up and tried to sit up but the object wouldn’t let you. A soft growl made you freeze as something nuzzled against you. You were now fully awake and glanced down as far as you could. However, all you could see was a large hairy head. It nuzzled against your chest and you glanced out of the window. You could faintly see the full moon peeking through the gap in the curtains.

“Jack?” you said at last

A low rumble was your response and strong arms curled around you. You raised a hand and a warning growl came from him but you lowered it on top of his head. Jack relaxed under your hand and you scratched behind his ears. He let out a low rumble and if he was a cat and not a wolf, you would’ve sworn he was purring. Instead Jack raised his head and looked down at you.

You could see why Jack didn’t want you around during the full moon. His wolf form was truly terrifying. You swallowed thickly as Jack lowered his head and cocked it to the side as he studied you intently. You were too afraid even to breath. However, and much to your surprise, Jack licked a long strip up your neck and cheek. You cringed at the feeling and Jack rested his head heavily against your chest again.

It was strange. Jack had always told you such horrific stories of his wolf form. He had told you that it was a warning of what he truly was. From his tone and the look in his eyes that he was being deadly serious. You had never seen Jack so serious so you understood why he always went away for the full moon. Now, well, now you had a new theory to investigate.

You groaned softly as you stirred awake. Jack was still on top of you but he was now back in his human form. You smiled down at him and gently ran your fingers through his hair. He shifted in his sleep and smiled softly. He snuggled closer to you and you wrapped your arms around him. Jack froze for a moment before he sat bolt upright and jumped away. He pulled the duvet with him, covering himself up as he scooted away and fell onto the floor. For a second neither of you spoke until he said,

“It was a full moon yesterday.”

“Yes,” you said, “I’m aware.”

“I… I…,” he ran a hand over his face, “I didn’t hurt you.”

“No,” you said as you rolled over onto your side so you could look down at him, “I thought you were rather sweet actually.”

“Sweet,” Jack raised his eyebrows in amusement, “I’ve never heard of a werewolf being described as sweet before.”

You reached over and ruffled his hair. Jack moved out of the way but had a playful smile on his face.

“So,” you said, “why didn’t you attack me.”

“Well,” Jack said as he propped himself up on his elbows, “when transformed werewolves can be unpredictable. Some have even attacked members of their own pack, even when they know their scent. The only people wolves don’t attack are-”

He cut himself off and suddenly looked awkward.

“Yes?” you prompted gently

“It’s a bit of a delicate subject.”

“It’s ok. I can handle it.”

“The only people that werewolves don’t attack while transformed,” he took a deep breath, “are their mates.”

Oh.

#fanfiction #werewolf by night #reader insert #request #jack russell #jack russell x reader

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telvess · 1 year ago

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RoR: How they seek attention (Hades, Jack, Leonidas)🔞

I don't know how title it. I don't know why I wrote this in such form.

Hades

He’d give you smut to read. No kidding. He just leaves it at the dressing table for you. He then continues his daily routine, effectively pretending nothing happened.

At the end of the day, when you take a bait and read in his presence, Hades watches you from his safe spot (where he drinks wine or plays chess with his parrot). He is looking for any sign that you'd reached the right moment in the plot.

Once you give yourself away, he drops what he is currently doing and quietly joins you on the couch. He puts his arm around you and slowly massages your waist. At this point you already know what’s going on and he knows you know.

— What are you reading, my queen? — he asked with a smile, indifferently. — The interesting part — you replied. You didn’t want to give him a smile yet so you continued to stare at the book, even if content stopped interesting you. — Hmm… would you dare read this out loud? — his lips next to your ear made you shiver. What a sly husband you had. — As his hand slowly moved towards the inside of her thighs, his lips closed hers in a steamy kiss that took her breath away. His tongue made its way inside and explore a new place in wild, intense dance-e… — you stopped. Hades began leaving small kisses on your temple. His finger was caressing your jaw when other hand started to undoing your dress. You felt little buzz on your back from this barely perceptible touch. As the straps of your dress slipped down, a cool breeze on exposed skin made you blush. You hoped you could hide behind curtain of hair but Hades - as if he reading your thoughts - immediately tucked your hair behind your ear. — What’s next? — he asked calmly. He leaned down to give your naked neck kisses. You took a deep breath and looked at the book with trembling hand. You couldn’t remember where you finished reading, nor did you care what was happening there anymore, so you started reading a random paragraph. — Warmth risen under her belly, between legs, where his hand was heading… — Hades gave you a hickey which made you moan — She felt something was growing there and demanded to be satisfied… — you stopped and looked at him — Are you proud of yourself? — you asked but he didn’t give you any answer; his lips didn’t leave your neck. — You should be… — you whispered. You melted under the touch of his lips. The book fell off the couch, but neither of you cared about that poor written work anymore. — You know that you could just ask — you said, forcing him to look at you. Hades smiled. — Yes, but what a waste that would be. You should read to me more, my queen.

Jack

Jack probably doesn’t have high sex drive or he is very good at ignoring it. Of course everyone has their limits and Jack isn’t exception from this rule. If you don’t initiate any intimacy events for a longer time, at some point Jack’s will would crumble.

He has no idea how to suggest those kind of activities, he considers it inappropriate for a gentleman. Which probably leads to sudden loss of control.

You were sitting next to Jack in the arbour, enjoying good tea and cookies together. All your attention was focused on the book Jack had chosen for you. You weren’t very familiar with Shakespeare’s work but didn’t mind changing that. It required a lot of dedication from you because you had a trouble understanding some parts. Therefore, the process took much longer. You heard the sound of a spoon falling, but you didn’t take your mind off the book. Jack pushed away his chair, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw his head disappear under the table. You read long monologue, repeated it for better understanding but something was wrong. You frowned as you realized that Jack had frozen in a bent position. You took a better look at his face and followed his gaze, which led to your legs. Oh…, you thought. Usually you preferred to wear pants but today you chose a dress. It ended right below the knee and now that you were sitting cross-legged, Jack probably had a very good view of your legs covered with fishnet stockings. — Jack… — you said softly. Jack flinched; he came back to reality… wherever he was, and sat up straight. In your opinion, too rigidly. Your gaze fell to the floor again. — Spoon… — you mumbled and leaned down to pick it up. Apparently Jack hadn't quite recovered from his reverie because he did exactly the same thing and you two bumped heads. — Ouch! — My apologies, dearest — Jack said immediately. — No, it’s my fault… Your eyes met and suddenly Jack’s lips were on yours. You moaned with surprise, but deepened the kiss. You slowly straightened up without interrupting. Jack hands came around you, his fingers tightened on a dress as his tongue slipped between yours lips. Some sensation was born between your legs. You didn’t know when or how, but suddenly you felt his hand on your tight, his touch was leaving burning trace on your naked skin. All you could’ve thought about was his button shirt and how you wanted to rip it off. Before that could happen, you two separated, gasping for air. You looked away, feeling all the intense heat on your face. — This was not gentlemanly behaviour — you heard. You licked your lips. — Will I become less of a lady in your eyes if I say I liked it? Jack’s eyes brightened. — Not at all — was his answer. — Then let’s continue — you said with a smile.

Leonidas

Straight to the point. Why waste precious time for talking?

Sometimes though for some reason he likes to let things piss you off. He likes when you’re angry, it turns him on.

Leonidas was supposed to supervise your javelin throw training but instead he was reading another dull book. You threw javelin after javelin and none of them stuck in the ground. Frustration was slowly building in your chest as you hadn’t made progress in the last half hour. — Ugh! — Keep throwing, hon — you rolled your eyes. — Are you sure I am doing it right? — you asked through gritted teeth. — Yup — was his reply however from the tone of his voice you could tell that he was more concerned about his stupid book than your training. You took breathe in and out. He did it on purpose, didn’t he? Fine, two can play this game! You grabbed another javelin and tried again. Then repeat, then again, again and again. Calm and methodical. Until, out of the corner of your eye, you saw how impatiently Leonidas began to turn the pages. Until you felt his irritated gaze on your back and you almost gave yourself away. How easy it was to turn tables around. — Hon, wanna have some fun? — he asked finally, after abour fifteen minutes of silence and many javelins later. — You mean like boxing? — you asked innocently. Leonidas glanced at you over his book, which could basically shut anyone up. — I could do that with my men. I meant fun. You froze with javelin above your head. — Well technically you can do that with your men too — you sent the javelin flying, but the result was the same: it rolled along the ground. Pathetic. You flinched at the sudden creaking sound. — Look what a smartass we have here — Leonidas quickly moved towards you. You watched silently as he picked up two javelins from the ground, took the proper stance, and threw one of them. A javelin stuck in the ground like a strange flag many meters away. — I told you, put some strength into it! — Leonidas shouted at you as he placed a new javelin in your hand. He helped you take a correct stance, you felt his irritation but decided not to tease him yet — Eh, these weak arms of yours… Something has snapped inside you. You broke free from his grip. — We will see how you gonna cry under these weak arms of mine later, you jackass! — you yelled. The anger you felt earlier escalated to much greater size now. Leonidas smirked at your much smaller figure. His shirt tightened dangerously on his wide, muscled chest as if it were about to tear. — Oh, is the princess mad? — he mocked. — Piss off! You turned your back on him, otherwise you could have killed him on the spot. However, before you could leave, you felt a grip on your hand and a moment later you were pulled towards Leonidas. He picked you up and kissed without hesitation. You gasped with resentment at that audacity and began punching his chest. You felt him trying not to smile. The tight grip of Leonidas's arms around you didn't weaken for some time. — Now that’s the kind of fun I was looking for — he said once you had stopped. The kiss took your breath away but pride still demanded justice. You just looked at his smug face and tried to overcome your body's stupid excitement. — Let's take this elsewhere — he said. — Don’t you dare… NO! — you screamed as he threw you over his shoulder. — Screw you!

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror x reader #snv x reader #ror hades #ror jack the ripper #ror leonidas #ror hades x reader #ror jack x reader #ror leonidas x reader #snv hades x reader #snv jack x reader #snv leonidas x reader #udj

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the-fiction-witch · 11 months ago

Text

Little Bird

Media House Of The Dragon

Character Daemon Targaryen

Couple Daemon X Reader

Rating Suggestive

Daemon counted in his head slowly without any of the words passing his lips, ‘1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4... 5... 6…’ and so on he thought until finally he arrived at ten. He opened his eyes and began his search, he started inside the chamber checking under the bed, behind the curtains, and inside the cupboard but found nothing. He continued checking the various places within the red keep but he was slowly beginning to become more frustrated as he searched. The prince grew impatient, yet he still found it funny how he was being bested. Daemon was amused and annoyed simultaneously. He was searching the red keep, wandering around the area, he even went through certain parts more than once. He was beginning to grow even more excited and impatient in his search,

“Come on out little bird,” he cooed but no answer came, “Come on this is starting to not be funny.” He said as he continued to call out never getting an answer his tone becoming less playful the longer it went on. “Little bird?” He called

He continued on his way before he reached the red keeps courtyard full of flowers bathed in the moonlight, "I know you're not in my chambers, I have searched every room. Perhaps you are amongst the flowers? Could my little bird have turned into a bird and flown away?"

Suddenly a small giggle came from the tall weirwood tree,

Daemon looked behind himself immediately and glanced at the weirwood tree, his eyes began to scan the base of the tree He chuckled softly at her game and gave a playful shake of his skull. “Little bird? I should have known you’d be up in tree. Come on down dear. Don’t make me climb up there.” he warns playfully as he goes to the bottom of the tree looking up to see his betrothal.

Y/n sits up in the tree’s branches in her long red dress, her Y/C/H hair in sweet braids, with a wide smile across her lips, “Do I win?” she asked kicking her legs playfully,

“Yes. You win. Come on down and claim your price,” he told her, “Come get your rewards,”

She giggled and climbed down the tree to his waiting arms as his hands grabbed her waist and she set her hands on his shoulders so he could lift her down and he gave her a sweet kiss, he kissed her deeply for a while still holding her in his arms her feet off the floor so she had no escape.

“I think that’s your best prize yet my pretty little bird,”

“No, still second.”

“You’re telling me there have been rewards better and more pleasing then this? Go on enlighten me?”

“Getting to be your future bride. Is still number one.”

“You are too sweet, I admit… I am looking forward to having my little bird all to myself,” He smirked, “Come on, lets get you back to bed.” He said as he carried her though the red keep and back to his chamber where he dropped her on the covers. She laid on her back giggling among the sheets,

“Hi,”

“Hello my little bird,” Daemon smiled softly down at her as he sat down next to her on the bed. The dark prince placed a hand on her right thigh and gave a gentle squeeze. His eyes remained locked with hers as he spoke. "I shall not let you go, not this time... Not after our game of hide and seek." Daemon brought his other hand to her other thigh and began rubbing them up and down her legs. "You have made me work to even have this small moment with you, dear little bird. I think that means I shall enjoy myself with you that much more. So please, let me have my fun?"

"...no."

"And why not my sweet bird? Is there nothing I could do to persuade you?"

"no. Not until or wedding"

"What? So I cannot have you now? How unfortunate for me." Daemon said with a smirk as he was still rubbing her thighs.

"it is. But you shall just have to control yourself my lord. Nothing will happen until our wedding night"

"Control myself? Do you think you can keep such a big man as me under control for that long, dear little bird?" The prince's voice was filled with a playful edge as he spoke.

"well it's the rules. Won't I've nice for you? To wait. To deflower your virgin little bird on your wedding night?"

Daemon laughed softly at her words. He was amused but his voice began to grow more sultry as he was talking about the wedding night.

"Such a tempting offer, dear little bird. To have you then and there. But I must agree, you are quite enticing, I would hate to take away from the moment of your wedding. So I shall hold off from taking you now, to make the moment of our wedding more special."

"thank you, but I'm sure you will not need to wait long" she cooed giving his lips a sweet kiss "did you want me to go? Sleep elsewhere tonight? So I am not .. tempting to you?"

Daemon laughed softly as he kissed her back, he did not stop for a few moments. The prince's voice was full of amusement as he spoke. "Why would I sleep elsewhere when I have a bed big enough for two? Do you think that I would send you away from me? Not when you are this beautiful and this enticing I would never want the bird to roam too far. You are indeed tempting but I cannot afford to take the bird so early. No, no, my sweet bird shall remain close to me, forever more."

she nodded and kissed him once more before she left the bed and moved behind a screen to change for bed Daemon watched her as she moved behind the screen to change, his eyes wandering over her shadows as she changed biting his lip trying to quel his dark desires, she emerged in a little silk nightgown and blushed the perfect picture of innocence "how do I look?"

"I think someone wishes to be taken by the bad prince. You look as if you are inviting trouble into your bed."

"trouble?"

Daemon gave a little smirk, and his eyes remained locked with hers. She was teasing him again and the playful bird was driving him crazy. "Yes, trouble. Or do you wish to deny what it is that I see before me?"

"I don't know what your talking about Daemon. Tis meerly a nightgown for bed." She smiled Innocently as she moves closer the white silk nightgown Caressed her perfectly gliding over her figure like a second skin even her nipples poked the silk slightly her hair allowed to flow down her back,

Daemon's eyes began to glance at her nipples, the prince was having great difficulty in his attempts at stopping himself. He wasn't sure of how long he would last. He would do his best to be a gentleman, but she kept on becoming more... Tempting. "You truly know how to be a tease my sweet little bird... Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"yes Daemon?"

Daemon took a deep breath in before speaking. "I know... I know there cannot be anything that happens between us before the wedding. However may I make just... One request?"

"well what's the request?" Her head tilted to the side

Daemon's voice was hushed as he spoke his request to her. "May I take a peek at what I can not have until our wedding?"

"a peek?"

"A peek, just a glimpse of what lays beneath that nightgown of yours. Is that too much to ask... My sweet bird?"

"...one look. No more"

"I accept the terms, my little bird. A glance will do, it is all I need. Come here little bird."

she moved to the edge of the bed within his reach his hands don't waste time tugging the nightgown up for a peek at her, he revealed her utterly seeing her large breasts bare nipples hard to the cold air, her beautiful body, her thick thighs, wide hips, and her perfect mount and pussy, She blushed at him seeing her and after he looked he all over she tugged her nightgown from his hands and pushed it down to conceal herself again and she climbed into the bed,

Daemon did not speak as he looked at her, his eyes tracing every inch of her once more. The prince was filled with a new found respect for his little bird, if she could reveal herself in such a way, if she was not scared of such intimacy... The prince had never looked at any woman with such devotion, such lust, as he was currently looking at her.

"Tell me, have you truly taken no one else before me? Were you telling the truth about being a maiden?"

"my Maidenhead has never been touched" she smiled, "May I ask something?"

"Go ahead my sweet bird, you may ask me anything."

"did you like the sight of me? Your peek?'

"Would you like me to be blunt with my answer? There is nothing that I could say in response to that question that would truly express how much I liked what I saw."

"you may be as blunt as needed"

"To be blunt, the sight of you was absolutely wonderful, I enjoyed every single second of it. You are a rare woman, truly, a woman that I would fight all the kingdoms in order to have. I have never seen anyone so beautiful, my little bird, and I don't think I ever will. That is merely the truth of it." Daemon spoke truthfully the prince's voice filled with admiration as he talked about her. The prince was not lying in anyway, if anything, he was underselling how much he enjoyed it.

"may I ask? Which... Part of me fascinated you the most?"

"I would have to say you are the most perfect thing I have ever seen. Every part of you fascinates me. If I were to choose a favourite, I would probably say your cunt has my attention the most."

"Really? Why?"

"Humm the thought that soon I shall have it as my own. I shall be able to touch it, kiss it, burry myself in it. That it will grow my children and pleasure me endlessly. I can't help but he fascinated by it my little bird." He smirked "I have a rather large appetite my little bird, but I shall hold back in order to satisfy you. You are indeed a very tempting bird, I will keep my promise, I shall have as much of your body as you want me to after the wedding. May I ask for another favor?"

"yes Daemon?"

"My sweet little bird, may I ask you to please come closer to me, may I ask you to please come and sit in my lap. I feel that my lap may become your home rather soon."

"I have a better idea,"

"Would you care to share this idea of yours then my little bird?"

She smiled and pulled him to lay flat on the bed she happily laid down setting her head on his chest her hand on his stomach, "I would love to sit in your lap Daemon but it's late and we're all ready for bed. I worry I will fall asleep but this is acceptable isn't it? A nice cuddle till we fall asleep?"

"If this is the bird's idea of a better idea, I think I like your ideas better than mine. It is more than acceptable, I believe I would love to feel your body against me every single night. Shall I say something that you might not want to hear though dear little bird?"

she nodded,

"I was going to say that I have found myself wanting to push the boundaries more and more as the night has gone on. While I am more than overjoyed at the thought of being so close to you, there is something I find myself wanting more and more as time passes."

"And what's that?"

"I want her to be mine, my little bird. I have been craving to possess you, body and soul every since I first laid eyes on you. Now I am more than ever."

"well soon I will be your wife and you may take my Maidenhead then. And then I will be yours body, soul. All ways"

"I know. it is just getting harder to wait my little bird." he muttered, "May I ask you one last question dear little bird?"

"mhm?"

"I know you will be my wife soon, and you have made me so happy. I could stay awake with you all night but... If I did that, would it be possible for you to grant the prince one single wish? One wish for his bird?" He cooed, "Do you think maybe I might be able to move the hand my bird has on my stomach now? but I had to ask because... I can not resist my own desire any longer." he pleaded, "Please grant me this, my sweet little bird."

"Move it?"

"Please, my little bird, I am not asking for anything that I won't get in the end. But, I am desperate to have this one thing from you. If I speak it, will you grant me my wish? I will ask for nothing more from you again if you grant me this."

She giggled and moved her hand down to draw small shapes with her fingertips on the bottom of his stomach, but he took her hand and moved it further down,

"Please dear little bird, I want you to touch me... to caress my... my..." he gasped pushing her hand lower and lower "Please... My little bird. Take your hand and... You know where I want your touch now. Touch me my princess... "

"Are you sure-"

"Please... No more talking... Touch me my little bird..."

"Yes my prince," she cooed.

#mattsmith #matt smith #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targeryen #daemon x reader #daemon #daemon targaryen #house targaryen #house of the dragon #houseofthedragon

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 1 month ago

Text

Dieter Bravo's Christmas Special Merry Christmas @schnarfer!

In a shocking revelation... since I just acted like your Secret Santa had a question for you... I'm your Tent Pitchers Secret Santa and I couldn't be more excited to give you your gift! Getting to know you has been one of the best gifts I could get this year. Shout out to @mothandpidgeon for her eyes and ears and her fellow wingedness. Also, this is a sell on The Adventures of Owl, Moth & Mallardy. 🦉🦋🦆 Also big shout out to @devineconjuring for her beta work and support in this insanity where I make her read terribly formatted scripts. Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the ornaments! Now, please keep in mind the formatting is a bit wacky because the script format is NOT Tumblr friendly so I had to do screen shots for some scenes. TW: Some drug and alcohol use is in here. This is absolute insanity. I cannot stress this enough. It is Dieter after all.

Dieter takes his mark. The lights are way too bright. Who decided that he needed to be under so many bright fucking lights?

He holds his mug of hot cocoa—and whiskey—and takes a drink that burns his throat. He swallows the fiery yet smooth liquid down and blinks his big doe eyes at Camera A. The one they put a picture of a scantily clad lady dressed like Santa on so he can remember it’s the main camera.

Why did he ever agree to do something like this? He remembers the meeting a couple months ago, taking the elevator up to one of the top floors in a boring brutalist-style building smack dab in the middle of downtown Los Angeles. His team and the network’s shaking hands and comparing dick sizes and bank accounts as they planned to exploit the American capitalist dream, all in the name of holiday cheer. He was about to tell everyone no and to fuck off—until they dropped that they could get the Muppets. He’s always wanted to meet Kermit–he thinks he would be a positive influence in his life.

So, Dieter Bravo agreed to do the Christmas special and signed his name on the contract.

Now he’s here in this itchy, hot sweater under these bright lights.

The festive music fades out into a commercial break. Dieter rushes off stage behind the big, red velvet curtains to his dressing room.

“How much time do I have?” He asks the stage assistant as he guzzles down a drink of cold water.

“You have to be on stage in seven minutes, Mr. Bravo. Radiohead is doing their cover of Grandma Got Ran Over By A Reindeer, and then you’re doing the animal showcase.

“Right, right. Gotta pee,” Dieter says with a nod as he swings the bathroom door open.

“I’ll just uhh—leave you to it,” the shocked assistant says as Dieter pulls his pants down with zero shame.

Ugh, he’s so tired. He knows just the thing that will help him. His own snow, glorious little snow that he keeps in a vial in his bag.

One hit, one deep sniff, one nose tickle, and he’s GOLDEN. Until—

He steps out on stage and sees a gigantic owl. His eyes go wide, his pulse quickening—not just from his magic white powder.

He cautiously walks over to the friendly-enough-looking zookeeper and takes his spot, his big brown eyes darting back and forth from the owl to the exit sign.

“AND WE’RE BACK IN 5-4-3-2…1”

Fuck.

He stares wide-eyed at the camera.

“Wel—welcome back to my special… it’s special. Guys, holy shit, there’s an owl. That’s a bird of prey. BIRDS. We all know all the birds died in 1986.”

“Um. You’re wrong about the latter, but as for the former, you’re right. Owls are a bird of prey, very good!” The zookeeper answers.

“I don’t trust birds, man,” Dieter says, leering at the wide-eyed owl with fear. “They can fly too far and they’re always listening. My mom told me that’s who Santa uses to watch over us during the year to make sure we’re being nice.”

“…okay,” the zookeeper replies, his smile faltering for a moment as he tries to adjust to Dieter's energy. “But owls are actually sagacious creatures. They help maintain the ecosystem by controlling rodent populations.”

Dieter leans closer and squints at the owl, totally cool with all the commotion surrounding it. “Yeah, well, that’s what they want you to think! I bet it’s just some kind of spy. You know? Like a furry little CIA agent with feathers.”

“Okaaaay. Let’s just… get back to how amazing owls can be,” the zookeeper says, trying to regain control of the segment. “This magnificent creature here is named Psyche. She’s a great horned owl and—”

“Great horned owl?” Dieter interrupts, raising an eyebrow skeptically. “Does that mean she has horns? I thought only goats had those.” He shoots Psyche a sideways glance, who blinks lazily back at him.

“No horns, just ears that look like horns!” the zookeeper explains, trying hard to remain upbeat while Dieter spirals further into his conspiracy theories. “And Psyche—”

“More like ‘Psyche the Spy’s key,’” Dieter cuts in again. “What is she reporting back? ‘Hey Santa, this guy is weird?’”

“Uhh,” the zookeeper blinks at Dieter, then towards the director.

Dieter leans into Psyche, feeling braver and braver the longer he’s near her. “What’s in your head, little horned one?”

Psyche moves her head, her large yellow eyes meeting his.

“WITCH!” Dieter shouts, arms flailing as he runs to hide behind a large tree flocked with white snow, decorated with red and gold baubles and beautiful ornaments depicting animals.

“CUT TO COMMERCIAL!” The exasperated director harshly whispers into his headset. “And send that zookeeper a giant bouquet of flowers tomorrow.”

Dieter watches from next to the director as three of his childhood heroes read from a gilded Night Before Christmas book. Wow, Kermit the Frog is here–and he’s about to join him.

This is it. Over forty years of fandom, and NOW–NOW–he gets to meet Kermit. His heart feels like it’s going to fly out of his chest with each step he takes across the stage towards his three heroes.

Dieter is now only two steps away from the wall. Soon, he’ll be with them, able to hug and touch them. THE FUCKING MUPPETS. He moves to stand behind the wall—but his foot runs into something that lets out a soft oof.

He looks down. There’s an actual human man huddled behind the wall with—with their hand UP KERMIT’S ASS.

“Dude! What the fuck? What!? You sick fuck?! What is happening? GET YOUR HAND OUT OF KERMIT’S BUTT!” He shouts, yanking the puppet off of the man’s hand.

“CUT!!! CUT CUT CUT SEND TO COMMERCIAL! CUT!” The director yells. “And send that puppeteer a giant bouquet of flowers tomorrow.”

“It’s okay, Kermit, I’ve got you,” Dieter cries into the floppy, green fabric.

“Dieter,” the director gets his attention. “This was a terrible idea. Please, go get some rest. Prepare your team for the barrage of reporters who will be calling.”

“But, who’s going to finish the show?” Dieter asks, holding Kermit’s body closer to him.

“We—we called in a replacement. Phoebe! Get out here!”

Phoebe Waller-Bridge walks out in a beautiful red dress, wearing black tights and black boots. Quite Fleabag coded.

“I’m ready!” She cheerily announces.

“Wow,” Dieter says, enamored by her presence. “Yeah, you’ll be way better than me at this. I’m going to take a nap. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Dieter! Now, send in the hot priests to dance!”

Love you 🦉

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo

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just-a-creep-babe · 2 years ago

Text

A Demon’s Ache — Part 3

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss thank you so very much darling! ❤️❤️

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

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Masterlist: x

Jack’s room is dark, like it usually is

He keeps his blackout curtains closed, both because it’s in his nature to resent the sunlight, and because he doesn’t need the light to see anyways

He’s lying on his back, one hand behind his head, the other on his stomach

His gaze is facing the ceiling, but he’s not really seeing it

He’s too busy thinking about you instead

But that’s nothing out of the ordinary

Really, his obsession has only gotten worse since you let him touch you, since you let him taste you

You have him wrapped around your little finger—and you probably don’t even know it

He closes his eyes

The image of you comes to mind as he does

He thinks about the shape of your face, the curve of your jawline, the angle of your nose

He thinks about your pretty lips, so fucking cute when they’re parted and moaning for him

He thinks about the shape of your body, the swells and dips of your form, the texture of your skin, the smell of your arousal, the taste of your sex against his tongue—

His hips buckle, and he’d barely even noticed his hand had travelled down to his stiffening cock as he thought of you

Fuck

He has to stop this before his obsession consumes him

He needs a distraction—anything to take his mind off of you

He’s about to get on his computer when there’s a knock at his door

He debates answering

Really, he’s in no condition to do so—he’s visibly hard and very obviously turned-on

He hopes whoever’s trying to talk to him will get the hint and leave him alone

But then the knock returns a few seconds later

With a sigh, he fixes himself up, trying to conceal his hard-on, trying not to look half as horny as he is

Maybe this is good, maybe it’ll provide the distraction he needs

But then he opens the door and it’s you

And God, you’re just as mouth-watering as ever

“Hey”

Your voice is quiet, almost a bit hesitant

It takes a moment for him to shove away all the depraved thoughts threatening to surface

And when he does, the best he can manage is a nod of acknowledgment

He should return a greeting, he should ask what’s up, if everything’s ok—fuck, he should say anything, really

But he can’t find the words he’s looking for

All he can think about is grabbing you, pushing you onto the bed and having his way with you

He wants to make a mess of you

“I, uhm… are you busy tonight?”

Your question snaps him from his thoughts

“No, I don’t think I have anything planned,” he answers a bit too quickly, “Why? What’s up?”

You shift in place, and he notices that you seem to be avoiding eye contact

Can you tell what he’s thinking?

Is he making you uncomfortable?

“I was wondering… if you’d like to meet me in the garden? Maybe around sunset, if that works?”

He clears his throat, and forces the image of you wrapping your lips around his swollen cock from his mind

“Yeah, I could do that. Is there… is there a reason for it?”

Your eyes widen slightly at the question

What’s gotten you so nervous?

“Uh, yeah, there is a reason. But I’d like to talk about it tonight. So, um… anyways, I have to get to something right now. But I’ll-I’ll see you then!”

And just like that, you turn and walk away, leaving him behind without any further explanation

He watches you go, still trying to shrug off the image of you in the midst of an orgasm from his mind

Fuck, he should really try to get his urges under control

It’s only when he closes the door shut that it clicks

He smacks his face into the palm of his hand, groaning

God, he’s so fucking stupid

Did you just ask him out?

And he was too fucking horny and oblivious to catch on?

Something like frustration boils in his blood—until it actually sinks in

Wait

Did you really just ask him out?

As in—you like him?

And you want to take things further—maybe even make them official?

His heart flutters in his chest

Excitement like nausea churns in his stomach

Finally

Is he finally going to get the chance to make you his?

He paces to one side of his room, already trying to imagine what the conversation will be like

He shouldn’t get his hopes up, but he can’t help himself

He’s been waiting so long for this

So, so incredibly long

All of those sleepless nights he laid awake, thinking of you, imagining what it’d be like to mate you—and now he’s finally getting his chance

He can feel his pulse getting faster, his body growing warmer

Anticipation infiltrates his system like an irritant

He glances at the clock on his nightstand; 2:51 PM

Sunset would be in about 4 or 5 hours

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down

There’s no point in overthinking it right now, and it’s probably not a good idea to build it up so much anyways

Whatever happens, happens

He sits at the edge of his bed and clasps his hands together

A minute ticks by

The silence is suddenly deafening

He doesn’t want to think about tonight

He shouldn’t think about it

But it’s like his mind is working against him

Because the more he tries to push it away, the more he finds himself imagining what you might tell him in a few short hours

Until eventually, he decides, fuck it, he needs to expend this energy somehow

••

7:30 PM

Golden pink hues color the puffy white clouds in the sky

He’s early—embarrassingly so

But he couldn’t wait any longer

Staying holed up in his room was getting agonizing

His desperation was making him want to crawl out of his own skin

And after thinking about it over and over and over again, he came to the conclusion that even if the point of this rendezvous isn’t to confess, he’ll ask what you think of him anyways

Because the on-and-off hot-and-cold is just about killing him

Besides, you let him touch you twice now, surely that means something, right?

Pacing back and forth in the garden between some rose bushes, he starts overthinking yet again

The air is warm and sweet, and the flowers are big and bright and beautiful, but he’s too nervous to appreciate the moment

“Act natural,” he murmurs to himself, “don’t fuck things up. For the love of God, don’t fuck this up”

He shouldn’t let such a small request for a meetup get to his head, but he’s entirely drunk on the thought of you returning his feelings

Screw not getting his hopes up, they’re basically skyrocketed by this point

“Chill, just chill. Don’t scare her away…”

“Hey Jack”

Jack is used to a variety of strange things

He’s used to talking dogs and walking corpses, and that’s just scraping the surface

But being a near-perfect predator, he’s most certainly not used to people sneaking up on him

And he’s been so on-edge that it actually makes him jump when you make your presence known

“Fuck—(y/n)! I didn’t notice you coming”

His reaction makes you laugh, and god, he’d let you scare him every day if it meant being able to hear that laugh

“Sorry, I thought you heard me”

No, he thinks, I was too busy dreaming about making you mine

“It’s fine,” he answers, and he’s grinning beneath his mask because just being around you makes him feel like he’s floating sometimes

You’re like the embodiment of sunshine and happiness and everything good in the world

“So, uh, I guess I… I sort of just wanted to clear the air on something,” you start, and whether you know it or not, you have Jack’s full attention

He’s hanging off your every word like a guilty sinner during a prayer

“About what’s been happening between us,” you hesitate, and it’s like every passing second is stretching into an eternity

His thoughts are racing a mile a minute, desperately trying to predict how the next few minutes will play out

He wants you to say you love him, say you need him just as much as he needs you

And god, more than anything else, he wants to be able to kiss you

He wants to tangle his fingers into your hair, pull you close and kiss you until you’re both panting and dizzy

He wants to claim you with his teeth

“I think… I think it’s best if we stop”

There’s a pause

Your words almost don’t register with him at first

It’s like his brain refuses to process what you’ve just said

Time practically comes to a standstill—like it’s just you and him standing under the sunset

He can almost pretend nothing else exists

He can almost pretend you said the opposite of what you meant

“I-I shouldn’t have let things go as far as they did. It was a mistake, and I’m sorry”

A mistake

It’s the only word he seems to latch onto

And he finds himself repeating it over and over and over again in his head

“But I really, really value our friendship, and I hope that won’t change anything about it… right?”

You finally stop to look up at him

He’s thankful he’s wearing his mask

It allows for a certain amount of disconnect, a certain level of detachment

You can’t read his expression, so he can’t fuck things up by accidentally showing how he truly feels

Like he can’t live without you

“Yeah, I understand,” he tries to keep his voice even

Completely neutral

Devoid of pain from that bitter sting of unrequited love

You smile, relieved, blissfully unaware that you’ve shattered the demon’s heart

“That’s great! I’m really glad you understand, I was worried this would change something between us”

It changes nothing for you, he realizes, but almost everything for him

“Uhm… and yeah, that was basically it. I’m happy we were able to set things straight”

You offer another smile

And even though he really shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, he can’t stop himself from noticing how soft your lips look

And how he’ll probably never be able to feel them against his

“I have to go, I think Slender wanted my help with something, but I’ll see you around”

He nods, and just like that, you leave him behind

You leave him behind, just like you always do

He stands there in the garden, alone, surrounded by roses and tulips, for god-knows how long

It feels like a few minutes and a few hours at the same time

Your conversation replays itself in his head like a broken record

He imagines all the ways it could’ve played out differently

Maybe he should’ve said something to make you reconsider

But maybe it was already too late

Maybe he’d waited too long

Maybe he’d missed his chance after letting you get away that first time

And maybe he should’ve followed you out the kitchen that second time—no matter how suspicious it may have seemed to the other creeps walking in

He should’ve cared more about labels, he should’ve asked your opinion, he should’ve done this and that and just about a thousand other things differently

A slow, simmering kind of anger builds in his chest

It’s not your fault

Acting almost purely on instinct, he starts walking in a set direction

And the rest of the night is a blur

He hears the screams, feels the blood and viscera on his hands, bones against his teeth, but it all feels distant

It’s almost like he’s underwater

He’s drowning; in and out of consciousness, in and out of rational thought

At one point, he hears sirens blaring

And when they start closing in on him, he’s lucid enough to know that he should run

••

Pain

There’s a dull ache consuming the entirety of his body

His back, in particular, is throbbing

Eyes flashing open, Jack finds himself waking up at an unfamiliar scene

Two tall buildings sit on either side of him, blocking the view of what seems to be a dreary overcast day

He moves, and a jolt of pain shoots up his body

He groans

He feels so stiff

There’s something hard and lumpy beneath him

He shifts, finds a half empty garbage bag beneath him, and tosses it away

As soon as it registers that he passed out next to a dumpster in an alley, the smell hits him

And god, it fucking reeks

He covers a hand over his mouth to hold back a gag

And the smell of blood on his hands is just barely enough to cover the stench of the garbage

He doesn’t look down to take inventory of the state of his body

He’d rather not know

Instead, he shakily pulls himself up to stand, then stumbles out of the alleyway

A vacant street lined with large white buildings greets him as he tries to figure out where he is

Judging by the way each property is fenced-off, he can only assume he’s in some kind of factory district

Except that half of the buildings look abandoned, and the other half look like they’re on the verge of falling apart

With the mass of grey clouds hiding the sun, it’s impossible to tell what time it is

He can only hope he hasn’t been out for more than a day

With a sigh, he rakes his stained fingers through his disheveled hair

Something tells him getting back home will be a longer trek than he’d like

By the time he finally does make it back, the sun is just on the cusp of rising

There’s a quiet stillness to the air as the sky lightens with every passing moment

It took him the rest of the day to figure out where he ended up

And then for the entirety of the night, he had to make his way back, ducking in and out of shadows to avoid being seen in the busier suburban neighborhoods

But now he’s finally reached the mansion, which means he’ll finally be able to clean himself and dress his wounds

The first thing he does is makes his way to the closest shower

Not every room has a private bathroom, so there are a few communal showers scattered around the mansion

It’s not the usual bathroom he goes to, but he’s filthy enough to not be picky

He closes the door behind him, locks it, then strips down until he’s bare

His shirt, his hoodie, his pants—everything he's wearing is beyond salvage

Between the various rips, tears, and dark stains of brownish red, he figures he might as well throw them all out in the bathroom’s trash next to the toilet

He doesn’t want to be reminded of what he’s done, anyways

He doesn’t need to be reminded how much of a monster he is

With the his ashen grey body fully exposed, he uses the opportunity to inspect his wounds in the mirror

It’s difficult to see if he’s injured where there’s dried blood flaking on his skin—he can’t really tell if it’s his blood or someone else’s

But either way, none of his wounds look serious, and even the larger gashes and bruises seem to be healing quickly

He probably won’t even need to bandage any of them

With a sigh, he turns the water on and steps into the shower

As soon as the hot water hits his skin, it’s like a weight lifts from his shoulders

His stiff muscles slacken, relaxing beneath the water pressure

He lets the warmth envelop him for a minute or two, lets the water drip down the curves and angles of his sore body

Then he rolls his head to stretch his neck out, then does the same to his shoulders

He passes his fingers through his hair a few times to remove the bits of flesh still clinging to his short-cut dark strands

And then he gets the soap and starts washing himself

He’s so filthy that the suds turn red by the time they trickle down the curve of his v-line between his hips and his torso

There's also dirt or blood—he's not entirely sure which, caked onto the back of his neck, which he quickly scrubs away

He’s extra careful when he cleans around the bruises and gashes decorating his skin, but it’s thankfully painless

The last thing he cleans is the dried blood trapped beneath his fingernails

And even though he’s cleaning such vile remains off of himself, it feels like one of the best showers he'd had in a while

It's relaxing, peaceful, something he doesn't allow himself feel too often

He almost doesn't want to leave

He’s warm and comfortable and blissful in the shower, sheltered from the consequences of his actions and the remorse he’ll feel when his thoughts inevitably return to none other than you

But he knows he can’t avoid the painful truth forever

He does one final pass of the soap over his body, rinses it all off, then finally steps out

Shit

He doesn’t have a change of clothes

With a sigh, he grabs one of the extra towels from the cabinet, dries himself off, then wraps the towel around his hips and exits the steam-filled room

This bathroom is farther from his room than he’d like, so he has to pray he won’t run into anyone on his way there

But considering it’s so early in the morning, his chances of detection are probably unlikely

Unfortunately, luck doesn’t seem to be on his side when he turns a corner and bumps into someone

And he’s utterly mortified when it’s the one person he absolutely does not want to be seen by right now

"Jack?”

You sound just as surprised as he is

The demon’s suddenly hyper-aware that the only thing covering him is one measly little towel wrapped around his hips

That is, until he notices that you’re also not wearing as much as you usually are

But he doesn’t have time to appreciate the sight of your bare legs when he sees whose hoodie you’re wearing

It almost makes him sick

The musk clinging to you, nearly overpowering your sweet scent brings a special kind of rage to the pit of his stomach

"What are you—why are you up? It's like four in the morning"

He almost throws your own question back at you, but he realizes he doesn’t want to hear you say it

Besides, the answer is obvious enough

"I had to get the blood out"

It's all he says

And then he turns and walks away

For once, he makes it a point to be the one leaving you behind, instead of it being the other way around

But it’s not nearly as satisfying as it should be

He almost can't believe it

Of all the people you could sleep with, you slept with Jeff?

#creepypasta #eyeless jack #eyeless Jack x reader #creepypasta x reader #crp

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