#i needed to practice and your prompt was my first victim

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hey :) Hope you're doing well, I read some of your Aemond fanfics, and they were great. I was hoping you could write a Jacaerys x Alicent daughter fanfic. Something about an arranged marriage, you can take it anyway you wish, but could there be some angst in there. with the prompts 1. ‘’My blood is not noble enough for a prince.’’ and 14. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

Thank you :)

Request: Alicent’s second daughter to marry Jacaerys to unite the houses

Thank you for the compliment on my Aemond fics <3 More will be coming soon. Also, I was not able to use the first prompt as it doesn’t work with the characters. Alicent’s daughter’s blood is more noble than Jacaerys since her father is king and his mother is princess. I hope you still enjoy what I wrote for you <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Twenty years ago, when Viserys made Rhaenyra his heir, the knights and houses who swore allegiance to him had no choice but to accept her as their future queen. She was the king’s only child. But now that the king had a male heir — and a spare —, there were possibilities that people would oppose her claim to the throne and demand Aegon to wear the crown. 

To prevent the situation from happening, the king and queen, along with Rhaenyra, made an accord that Rhaenyra would ascend the throne following the king’s death, but to unite the houses, the princess’s firstborn son — and heir — would marry Alicent’s second daughter and, one day, inherit the throne together. 

Like any political marriage, you nor Jacaerys had a choice or say. At least he wasn’t an older lord you had met once or twice. You knew Jacaerys — a little. He was kind, loyal and protective. He was a good man. 

Prior to that arrangement, your grandsire, Otto, had been talking to you about having a tourney to meet suitors, but your mother had been quick to oppose to the idea. She didn't want you to be the victim of his scheming like she had been at your age. 

You were drawing under the weirwood tree when Jacaerys stepped into the yard, having just arrived in King’s Landing. Its red leaves matched the color of your dress, making him smile. He liked you in red. 

‘’I was told by the servants that my wife was out here.’’ 

Immersed in your drawing, you didn’t hear the prince approaching. You only glanced up when you heard your new title, the sound of his voice almost making you drop your charcoal onto your dress. Your mother would have been furious.

A soft laugh left your lips. Moons have passed since the wedding, yet being called a wife still felt strange. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

‘’Me either,’’ Jacaerys admitted. ‘’What are you drawing, Princess?’’ 

You reflected his smile as he approached. ‘’Just some birds.’’

Jacaerys walked up to the tree and sat beside you. He had a bit of dirt on his jacket from sparring with Ser Criston in the training yard. 

‘’How was your training session with Ser Criston?’’ you asked, raising a hand to run through the front of his hair, fixing an unruly curl that was on the wrong side. 

The older he got, the more he looked like Ser Harwin Strong. He had the same dark brown curls. But you would never dare saying that out loud. Although you meant it as a compliment, the mere insinuation of his illegitimacy was a vile insult to the crown — to the princess. 

‘’I disarmed him twice…and I ate some dirt.’’ The brunet grimaced, the earthy taste still lingering on his tongue. ‘’It was a blessing that no one was watching.’’  

‘’Mayhaps you need an opponent that is closest to your age?’’ you suggested, not finding it fair that he was sparring against a grown man who had years of practice as a knight. ‘’You could ask Aemond to train with you? He is training for the upcoming tourney, but I’m sure he would a accept to help you.’’

Jacaerys hummed, then leaned back against the weirwood tree, taking a moment of rest. He watched with quiet admiration as you continued your drawing, fascinated by the way you could, with a few strokes of charcoal, illustrate pretty much anything. Birds, flowers, dragons, or portraits of your family. 

Much like your twin brother, you favored solitude over socializing. When the betrothal was announced to you, you assumed that this tranquility would be disrupted, but it turned out that Jacaerys enjoyed it too. Partially. While he often thrived on the excitement and duty that came with his heir title, he found it relieving that he could find peace and comfort in your silent company. 

‘’I’m going back to Dragonstone in the morrow,’’ the prince announced, breaking the serenity of the quiet.

‘’How long for?’’

Jacaerys shifted, fearing the conversation that was to come. ‘’No. I’m going back to Dragonstone…permanently.’’

You stopped drawing, a sudden knot forming in your stomach. ‘’And what of me?’’ 

‘’You can join. Or not. That is up to you.’’ 

‘’And what of us? What of our marriage, Jace?’’ you asked, turning your head toward him. 

When you got wed in the tradition of Old Valyria, you pledged to one another that you were one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Jacaerys returning to Dragonstone would break your duties to your House. 

‘’Dragonstone is easy to travel from and back on dragonback.’’ You began picking at your fingers, and Jacaerys noticed, taking your hand in his to stop you. ‘’I tried, but King’s Landing is not my home. I don’t belong here.’’

‘’I can’t leave my family.’’ 

‘’I left mine for you.’’ 

You pulled your hand from his hold and narrowed your eyes at him. Jacaerys moving to King’s Landing after the wedding ceremony was your father’s idea, not yours. How dared he blame you for a decision you didn't make?

—

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[satorusugurugurl]

Teasing JJK Men With a Popsicle

Summary: When the sun is hot, you cool off with a tasty ocy treat! While also teasing your boyfriend.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU), AFAB!Reader

Warnings: suggestiveness, food play?? language, kissing, teasing, mock blowjobs, smutty-esque

Word Count: 5,5k

A/N: this is another poll prompt I did awhile back! I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things now that my writers block is gone! Enjoy!!

Gojo Satoru:

“Good mornin—ooh—” Shoko held her cigarette between her teeth, watching you boil with anger. “Not a good morning?” she asked, cockimg a brow as you plopped down on the bench next to her.

“It would’ve been if it wasn’t for Gojo.”

“Yikes, using your boyfriend‘s last name. What did he do to piss you off??

“It’s on the lines of what he ‘didn’t do.’” Your best friend took a long drag and blew the smoke above her head.

“I’m going to regret asking this, but what happened?”

The morning has started with the potential of being a great day. Gojo had you on top of him, rocking your hips against his morning wood, getting you all riled up before he broke the kiss. He quickly got out of bed, claiming that he needed to get ready for the meeting, which you knew was a crock of shit, but instead of calling him out, you made the mistake of joining him in the shower. He had you pinned against the wall, pressing between your legs, teasing your pussy before pulling away the second you began grinding down on him. It was painfully clear your asshole of a boyfriend decided to edge you all fucking morning. Once you made this discovery, you did your best to avoid him and his seductive advances.

But avoiding him was easier said than done.

On the ride to school, his fingers teased your inner thighs, rubbing the skin gently. When you finally made it to work, he cornered you in a classroom, rubbing himself over the fat of your ass. Gojo had woken up and chose violence this morning, and you were his victim.

“I’m seriously about to ask Yaga to send me off to supervise a mission or something to get me away from him.”

The only reason you were able to maintain some form of composure was all thanks to the first year’s training session Gojo was instructing. You had an hour to try to calm yourself down to get through the rest of the day, but knowing Gojo, he wouldn’t make the rest of the day easy. No amount of time would prepare you for the relentless torture. That was sure to ensue the second he got back from his lesson.

Shoko blew out another cloud, cupping some dark hair behind her ear. “Your solution is simple.” You stared blankly at your best friend. “You tease the bastard back.” Part of you jumps eagerly at the idea of switching the playing field. Part of you began cooking up all sorts of plots to invoke your revenge. The other half of you pouts, sinking slowly further down the bench.

“Yeah, and how do you suggest I do that? The last time I checked, he’s a giant who is untouchable. Even if I tried grinding against him, all he needed to do was put up his infinity.”

“You don’t have to grind on him to tease him. I’m a lesbian, and even I know that.”

“Then what do I do?”

Shoko put her cigarette out before gently grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the teacher's lounge. “We just need to make a quick stop at the kitchen.”

Gojo sighed as he watched the first-years brawl with the second-years. This was far less entertaining than teasing you had been. Seeing your pretty skin flush before you sighed in annoyance was his fuel for the day. Teasing you was just too easy. But he fully intended to make all the teasing worthwhile once you got home.

He just wanted to go as fast as he could to get back to said teasing. “Hey.” Never mind the waiting; it seemed as though some other almighty power had answered his prayers. You had been summoned near his side, practically begging to be teased! You were like a moth to the glowing flame that was his stature.

“Hey sweetie, what do you say we blow this popsicle stand and head to the sh-h-he—!!”

Gojo’s flawless Ivory skin flushed a crimson red when he turned his attention to you. Your pretty lips were sealed around a popsicle, sucking it as if it was his dick. Cheeks were hollowed, and your eyes narrowed as you watched his lips quiver under the shock of seeing you in such a promiscuous state. Once you were sure his attention was focused solely on you, your head began bobbing, taking more of (him) the popsicle into your mouth with a fucking moan. That sound alone should be reserved for him and his dick only, not some popsicle. Why the fuck was he getting insanely jealous over a sweet?!

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Cooling off?” You say, finally pulling off the cream-colored icy treat

Satoru scoffed, shifting his weight from one leg to the other to distract himself from his tightening pants. But nothing truly seemed to help because all he could focus on was how pretty your lips looked wrapped around your frozen popsicle. While he was suffering, you reveled in the satisfaction and the sweet taste of revenge.

“Baby, come on, don’t do this to me.” He complained, watching you take the whole length into your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh?” You swirl your tongue around the tip. “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for what, Toru?” You asked, popping the popsicle back into your mouth

“I’m sorry for teasing you, okay?!”

Your lips together, humming thoughtfully as you tapped your index finger against your chin. “I guess you seem like you mean it.” Satoru nodded, fluffy tufts of white hair moving with his every move. “But that still doesn’t make what you did right, so no, I won’t stop.” Your boyfriend let out a pained moan as you returned to enjoying your frozen treat.

“Sweetie, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Your cheeks hollowed as you suck the tip hard.

“Yes, anything!”

You hummed again, pulling off the tip. “You’re going to let me ride you tonight. And I will edge until I see tears in those blue eyes.”

Gojo scoffed, bending down slightly and getting in your face. “You say that as if it’s a punishment.” You focused on his blindfold as you pulled off the popsicle.

“Wanna bet?”

“Oh, please, like you riding me is a punish—” For an instant, Gojo waited, thinking that maybe you were going to have some smart retort to shoot back at him. But instead, you bit the tip of the popsicle off with your teeth with an aggressive snarl.

With pure satisfaction, you watched your boyfriend's hands shoot down his crotch. Where he covered his now soft cock. His jaw went slack as eyebrows twitched from underneath his blindfold, clearly pained by your actions. You smiled before patting him on the shoulder and turning to walk back towards the school with a sway in your hips. One that generally left him eager to get home, but this time, it sent pinpricks down his spine.

“Can’t wait to get home and teach you a thing or two!”

While the strongest sorcerer of the modern age watched, you saunter off. He was beginning to realize just how badly he had fucked up. And he was not looking forward to what you had planned for him. Okay, maybe he was a little excited.

Geto Suguru:

It wasn’t your fault. You had done nothing to deserve the sex ban your boyfriend had put you on. You may have fallen through a second-story window after purposely ignoring his warnings. And it may have been a fall that had resulted in you needing twenty stitches, but that didn’t mean he needed to withhold sex from you.

Normally when shit like this happened, the outcome either resulted and you were getting lectured or getting spanked, which wasn’t ordinarily bad at all. But seeing that this was your fifth injury in three weeks, Suguru decided to take a different approach to teach you a lesson, and it was a lesson that was working, much to your dismay.

This punishment was beginning to eat you alive.

You could live without sex for a week, but two weeks should be considered torture. To make matters worse, any attempts you had made to push Suguru to break the stupid ban himself had gone unnoticed, unbothered, and irritated you beyond all means. You were utterly desperate to get dick down by your fantastic boyfriend, but you still had another four days to go before the ban was up.

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

You hummed as you stood at the end of an alley, looking back at your boyfriend, who used his curse technique on the curse you had been fighting into a ball. Suguru rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that coated his brow. It was a hot one in downtown Tokyo, but you had the perfect way to cool off! One that was sure to ignite the flames of passion deep inside Suguru’s chest.

“Okay,” Suguru said softly as walking towards the entrance of the alley where you were waiting for him, “I just need to swallow, and then we can get back to Jujutsu High. I was thinking maybe we could—” your boyfriend, paused, looking up from the cursed spirit in his palm, watching as you slowly run your tongue along the underside of a popsicle. “When did you have time to grab that?”

“Right when you started working your magic!” Your tongue stained a fluorescent red as the taste of cherry washed over your taste buds. “This cute little shop had them right by the door! Works out perfectly in that summertime Tokyo heat.”

Suguru hummed, eyeing the curse sphere in his hand, bracing himself for what he knew he had to do next. “Would you mind—” he stopped talking as you pushed yourself off the wall, turning to stand before him. You sucked on the cherry popsicle as if it were your boyfriend’s cock. Your cheeks bobbing your head over the sweet, tangy treat, all while maintaining eye contact with your boyfriend. “Princess.”

“Ah~!” you moaned out happily, popping your mouth off the tip of the popsicle. You made sure to lick your lips ever so slowly, hoping they were slightly swollen with all the sucking you had done. “Yes, Suguru~?”

This was it. He would finally break after all of your efforts in the three days! You couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say! Maybe it would be, ‘I can't take this any longer. I need to feel you!’ Or better yet, he might not say anything at all! He might drag you down the dark and take you right there against the brick wall. It would be an adrenaline rush with the prospect of getting caught doing some naughty things in public!

You could feel yourself vibrating with excitement and need. A look that didn’t go unnoticed by your incredibly observant boyfriend. He could see the way that you were pressing your thighs together. Your lips slightly parted at the sound of his voice. And the telltale sign was the fact that your eyes so bluntly focused on his crotch as if you were willing him to get erect. It was almost cute seeing you so eager.

“Make sure there’s no one coming.” The disappointment that flashed across your features like lightning was as clear as a crystal lake. “Go on.”

Your eyebrow twitched with visible anger, and you practically stormed to the end of the alley, looking both ways and ensuring no pedestrians were walking by. “It’s clear.” There was a sour tone to your voice, fully capable of cuddling milk.

“Thank you, darling,” Suguru responded before tilting his head back and popping the curse into his mouth.

The horrendous taste of a rag that was used to wipe up vomit coated his tongue before he was able to swallow the curse down. Once he absorbed the curse, he focused his attention on you to draw away from the horrendous taste that coated his mouth like a film. He usually found himself drawn towards you after he swallowed a curse. You were his anchor, in a way—something to ground himself to without losing himself in the disgusting taste that would drive anyone mad.

Typically, when his dark eyes met yours, he was met with a warm and gentle smile. Only this time, he was met with the burning, lustful gaze as you practically deep-throated a popsicle. Seeing you suck on it before hadn’t been all that distracting, but now that you were getting into it, it was a different story. Your eyes had a far-off gaze as you focused on him. Your head moved up and down over the popsicle, coding it in your saliva as you sucked on it hard.

Seeing you in such a state left Suguru swallowing harder than he had when he swallowed the curse. With each inch you took further into your mouth, you could see a flicker of need in his eyes. This was it—your boyfriend‘s breaking point. Suguru was going to be the one to crash; he was going to be the one to break his ban!

In the blink of an eye, Suguru snarled, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you deeper down the alley. The sudden jerky movement caused you to drop your popsicle, tumbling to the ground and breaking into several uneven pieces. But you didn’t give a fuck about the popsicle! You were more eager to get to be with your boyfriend again finally!

Suguru grabbed both your wrists, pinning them above your head. His lips met yours in a crash of pure, unfiltered need. The man didn’t even give you a chance to fully understand what was happening or try to match his pace. One, his lips were slanted against yours, and the next, he was showing his tongue into your mouth without even asking for permission by the tip of his tongue slowly over your bottom lip. You moaned, eyes fluttering shut as you kissed him back, his knee darting between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core.

He pulled away for a moment before slamming his lips back against yours, nearly causing your teeth to clash against each other.his tongue, massage yours, wrapping around the muscle, as you found yourself melting against him, hips, slowly, moving as the taste of cherry slowly enveloped his mouth. His feverish kisses began to cool down as your hips slowly began rocking against his thigh, eager For what else he had to offer you in his alleyway.

But as quickly as the kiss came, it ended. He pulled away, panting heavily as he released his grip on your wrists. You fell forward against his chest, gripping his jacket for support as he removed his knee from between your legs. You were shaking slightly at the arousal that burned through your veins like boiling water. Peering up at your boyfriend, you watched as he licked at the smeared cherry syrup on his lips.

“S-Sugu—what was?!”

“I just had to get the taste of the curse out of my mouth. And since you were so rudely didn’t even offer to get me a popsicle, I decided to make do with what I had. It’s not like Satoru is around to offer me candy. So I decided to taste your popsicle firsthand.”

You felt as though the world was crashing down on you. “I-I—!” Suguru shut his eyes as he tilted his head to the side, smiling softly, which was sinister with what he had just done to you.

“Did you honestly think that was going to break me? Oh, my sweet Princess, you’d have to do a lot more than that.” he wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you down the alleyway back to the bustling streets. “You have four days to go, then we can make up for lost time. But by all means, keep up your technique by sucking more popsicles, it may not break me, but I do enjoy the sight of you sucking on it.”

Needless to say you had learned your lesson. You found that out by yourself right then there, standing in an alley after being twat-blocked your boyfriend who was right. You needed to be more careful on your missions, and you definitely would be more careful from now on. Because your boyfriend was not going to ever break a sex ban.

Nanami Kento:

It was hot, and you felt even hotter in every part of your body. You were sitting on your porch watching your husband mow the grass in your backyard. You had offered to do it earlier this week, but he insisted on taking care of it because of how hot it was. The last thing he wanted was for his beautiful wife to get overheated and possibly suffer the consequences of heat stroke.

At first, you weren’t sure if you were insulted or relieved by his request. You wanted to help with the yard work; you had no problem doing that. But Nanami made you a deal: if you did the laundry, he would ensure the yardwork was done, which didn’t seem that fair of a deal to you. Your washing machine and dryer were inside the comfort of your air-conditioned house while your husband was stuck outside in the heat doing yard work.

After you finished the laundry, you changed into a pair of booty shorts and a tank top, fully motivated to get outside and help him finish the yardwork so the two of you could shower and relax for the evening. But the second Nanami spotted you walking down the steps of the porch, heading towards him, he stopped what he was doing and pointed to the chair that was under the shade.

“My love, it’s too hot for you to be out here. I'm almost done. Take a seat. I can handle it.”

“Kento, if you stop being so stubborn, we could get it done faster!” you pleaded with your husband, crossing your arms over your chest.“Just let me help you with weeding the garden!”

Your husband turned the lawnmower off, using the short brake to wipe the sweat Office face with his dirty shirt. “Sweetpea, I already finished picking the weeds; I watered all the plants; all I need to do now is just mow the lawn. So please take a seat and relax. It won’t take me very long.” You wanted to argue with him to tell him that he was being asinine about the whole situation; that stubborn look in his eyes, however, told you there was no persuading him to stop.

With a side of defeat, you back up the stairs of the porch, flopping your ass down in the lounge chair, looking out at him. Nanami smiled, readjusting his baseball hat with a wink before turning the lawn mower back on. Your husband often called you stubborn, but perhaps he needed to take the time to look in the mirror because he was just as stubborn, if not more stubborn than you.

Was it that bad that you wanted to help him out? It wasn’t as though you were some fragile flower incapable of doing yardwork. If you weren't so angry, you would’ve been able to take the time to enjoy the view in front of you. Your sweaty husband roamed around the yard, ensuring it was pristine. Sweat ran down his neck, biceps, and face, making him look as though he was some sort of Greek god.

But he was being childish at the current moment.

Clearly, trying to be an adult and offer your assistance to him wasn’t going to help, and talking to him about trying to persuade him to let you help wasn’t going to work either. There wasn’t much more you could do. Once your husband has made a decision, he typically sticks with it.

But there was one thing even the Nanami Kento couldn't resist on a hot day like this! You hopped out of your chair and rushed back into the house, heading straight for the freezer. You snickered to yourself as you pulled out your secret weapon before returning to the backyard.

Nanami had just turned the lawnmower off again and moved to discard the lawn clippings in the trash bag. He fully set it off to the side, intending to add it to the other compost by the shed you used for your flowers. Sweat ran down his chiseled cheeks, and he was looking forward to getting this done so he could take a very long shower with you. But just as he was about to connect the basket back to the lawnmower, he looked up at you and dropped it to the ground.

You were sitting back in the lounge chair, legs propped up on the porch railing, as you slowly licked around the frozen treat in the waffle cone in your hand. You are pretty tongue-lapped at your favorite frozen flavor, your eyes transfixed on him as you swirled your tongue expertly around the tip of the treat. Watching you do something so lewd on a dessert had Nanami swallowing hard. He suddenly found his basketball shorts were way too tight for comfort.

You had not intended for it to be like this. Your mind was nowhere even close to being in the gutter. Instead, your intentions were innocent. In the long run, your plan had been to entice him with ice cream to take a break in the shade with you. Maybe once he got out of the blazing heat, you would be able to convince him to allow you to help him. Your poor husband thought you were doing something completely different; fortunately, it worked.

His eyes were towards the grass that was cut evenly, aside from the small patches near the back wall that were practically unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know the yard like you or Kento did; it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he didn’t mow it just this once. The lawn society would come and arrest him for missing a minuscule part of the lawn. Besides, it was too damn hot to be out in the yard working in heat like this. Not when you sat on the porch looking at him with narrowed eyes as you lapped seductively at your treat.

A look you hadn’t realized you had even been giving the man. Your intentions had been pure. So you knew you had won when you watched Nanami quickly move across the yard, picking up his yard tools and throwing them in the shed without a care in the world. You silently fist-pumped the aias. Nanami came bounding across the yard with a purpose. There was a look in those honey-brown eyes as he ran up the stairs.

“How sweet of you to join m—mmphm!”

Your frozen dessert falls onto your lap as Nanami tosses his baseball cap off to the side, his hands gripping your face as he kisses you deeply. Your eyes rolled back, your mind completely ignoring the fact that your frozen treat was melting in your lap. All your brain could focus on was kissing Nanami back; everything else fizzled into the background as he lifted you out of the chair, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Mhmm—my love.” the moan that left Nanami’s mouth caused the little hairs on your arms to stand as goosebumps rose. “If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask.”

“H-Huh—?” you drunkenly asked as he opened the backdoor, expertly shutting and locking it as his lips moved over your neck. He chucked warm and deep, his face buried in your neck.

You inhaled sharply, whimpering as his teeth grazed over your pulse. “If you wanted me to ravish you this badly, all you needed to do was say so instead of teasing me.” Your mind raced as you suddenly became aware of what he had been talking about.

The ice cream. Your intention to innocently persuade him to join you on the porch to cool off had been misconstrued as a beg for him to stop what he was doing so you could suck him off, maybe even do more. So, the way you saw it, you had two options. Be honest with your husband and tell him you just wanted the home to cool off on the porch as a ploy to convince him to let you help with the yard. Or, go with what he was saying and have steamy, hot shower sex.

“Oh shoot! You caught me! Here, I thought I was being so aloof with my plans!”

Your husband kicks the door to your bedroom open, heading into the bathroom. “Luckily for me, I can read you like a book.” Your fingers run through his slightly damp, sweat-ridden hair, scratching at the undercut as you pull yourself in and kiss him deeply.

“That you do.”

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU)

The door to the apartment flew open, and you snarled, eyes searching for any sign of your boyfriend. “Kuna!” screamed at the top of your lungs. There was no response, but that didn’t stop you from searching the empty apartment for your teasing boyfriend.

Intentions of making him pay for the relentless teasing he had put you through your workday. It started as an innocent text that said good morning and to have a good day. That innocent message progressed to him saying he missed you, followed by a picture of him lying in bed, his ripped abdomen muscles on full display. The photo in itself is something you were used to, but the images that followed were out of nowhere.

Pictures of his bulge in his basketball shorts came up on your screen. With each picture that showed up, they became more scandalous. The bulge turned into photos of him, groping himself through his pants, the erection clearest day to shots of his tattooed, happy trail all the way up to the base of his cock. Your face flushed as you shielded your phone from the prying eyes of your coworkers. You texted him to knock it off, but that was not easily persuaded. He did what he wanted, and he didn’t give a fuck.

Those scandalous photos turned into Voice Memos that had your panties soaked and your lip raw from how hard you bid it to hold the back whimpers. The man was torturing you, and you had planned to make him suffer as much as he had made you. But now that you were finally off the clock, in the safety of your own home, and the bastard was nowhere to be found!? Typical teasing dick move.

You stormed into the kitchen, searching for something to distract yourself with. Finding a popsicle in the freezer, you unwrapped it just as the front door opened and shut. In a second, you watched as your boyfriend around the corner, dropping his keys on the counter.

“Kitten!” shouted around with hungry desire. “I'm home!”

“Hm.” Instead of responding with the normally warm, enthusiastic welcome, he was greeted with the coldness of a winter storm.

“Oh, don't hm me. What do you say I ma—” His words traveled off as he fixed his gaze on you, witnessing you pushing the pink popsicle into your mouth, sucking on the tip as he blinked before focusing on you.

Teasing wasn’t as fun now that he was the one on the receiving end of it. That’s what you thought. You had been eager to watch his face contort with need. Longing to make him suffer the same way he had made you suffer throughout the entirety of your day. Shortly as you found yourself lost in thoughts, you were met with the dark, almost void look in his crimson eyes.

That almost emotionless look in his eyes, and he didn’t seem bothered by your actions. Instead, you’ve leaned further over the counter, not breaking the eye contact. There was a lot you had been expecting your boyfriend to do in response to your teasing. So you continued to deep-throat the icy treat. But when Soukouna reached into the fruit bowl on the counter, picking up a peach, your eyebrows twitched as you tried to figure out what he intended to do.

A split second passed before Sukuna reached for the knife block. He pulled out the pairing knife, still maintaining icon contact. You walked, and your boyfriend sliced into the fruit. Its sweet juices beat against the fuzzy skin. The second peach was split in half. Sukuna grabbed the pit of the peach, throwing it into the sink.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, continuing to suck on the popsicle in a very messy manner. Was he seriously going to sit there and eat a peach without saying anything? Before you could even continue to question his intentions, you came to the shocking realization that he wasn’t going to eat the peach.

Your big buff boyfriend leaned over the counter himself, holding the peach in one hand while the other gripped the counter with his other. You watched as his pierced tongue slid out of his mouth slowly, lapping at the inside of the peach; in a way, he typically ate you out. He ran his piercing over the indent of the peach where Sukuna re the tip of the pit was, where your clit would be. He ran his tongue over that spot over and over before his tongue slid back down, lapping over the juicy peach.

Watching him lapping at the peach in such a seductive manner made you choke at first. Your boyfriend snickered as he kept his burning gaze focused solely on you. What the fuck? Why was this so erotic?! Watching him eating out a peach, you were suddenly jealous.

“What’s wrong, Kitten?” He purred out cocking an eyebrow. The juices from the peach smeared over his mouth as he pulled away. “You can dish it out but can’t take it?”

“Mhmm~!” You hummed out aggressively, swirling your tongue over the top of the popsicle. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You whispered, running the tip of your tongue over what you pretended was the slit of your boyfriend's cock.

“Ah, okay, I see. You can pretend you’re not imagining that popsicle as my thick cock, but I’m pretending this.” He held the peach up. “Is your sweet cunt.”

His words sent fire to pool in your abdomen. “O-oh yeah?” You questioned as if you didn’t know that’s what he was doing.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t compare to you.” He growled as he flicked his tongue over the peach. “You’re so much wetter, sweeter, and make the prettiest sounds. I’d much rather bury my head between your thighs.”

“Yet you’re still licking the peach.”

“And you're still deepthroating a fucking popsicle.”

You weren’t going to break down first! You refused to when he had started the teasing this morning while you were at work. Even if the popsicle melted you had a freezer full of them to continue this stupid game.

“Mmm~haaah~” Sukuna moaned softly, flicking his tongue over the peach in strategic swipes, ones you were familiar with. “S,” Sukuna hummed before you watched his tongue quickly dip down, “U,” the pink tongue darted down before two quick flicks followed, “K—”

You were a liar.

You threw the popsicle to the floor before snatching the peach away from your boyfriend and throwing it into the sink. Your boyfriend's smirk didn’t even have a chance to tug at the corner of his mouth as you yanked him closer to you by the straps of his tank top. Not expecting you to falter so quickly, Sukuna barely had time to process what was happening before he was dragged around the kitchen island, where your lips slammed against his.

All cocky attitudes joined the discarded peach pit in the sink as you both threw yourselves at each other. The sweet, sticky taste of peaches and strawberries collapsed in a kaleidoscope of flavors as your tongues massaged each other as you fell to the tile floor, wrapping your limbs around your boyfriend. Clothes were tugged off, and belts were unbuckled before moans flooded the apartment, and neither of you intended to stop until you were a sticky, sweaty mess.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

[sylveon-and-velveon]

Playing "4 Big Guys" around the slashers

Shitpost idea has been made, so here XD

This will include: Michael Myers {OG & RZ}, Brahms Heelshire, Jason Voorhees, Billy Lenz, Freddy Krueger, Stu Macher, Billy Loomis, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Harry Warden, Tiffany Valentine

Feel free to request any shitpost writing prompt ideas you can think of in my asks, I love silly non-serious ideas XD

Given the music is VERY adult related, this is 18+ ONLY

OG Michael Myers

Ain't gonna lie, the second you play that song he's probably staring at you instantly. Anger? Disappointment? Cursing your entire family and possible future children? Who knows! It's Michael-Fucking-Myers baby!!!

He's not used to anything sexual overall so hearing a song openly sing about gay sex, and in such a detailed way, would worry him. Not for the singer, no- more on your taste in music.

And don't even get me started on when he hears about shit being involved. The second he hears that being mentioned he's turning off the music entirely, patting your head, and dragging you away so you'll listen to something he likes instead to cleanse that weird mind of yours. Like... Kate Bush or something.

He'd like Kate Bush right? He looks like a Kate Bush enjoyer.

RZ Michael Myers

Judging you, hard. Though he ain't saying it. His aura is practically smellable he's judging you so hard.

Does he like it? No. It's loud, obnoxious, and profound filled. Ignoring the obvious "gay sex and other weirdness" part, the volume of the music reminds him of his childhood.

He's smashing the device the music is coming from. He doesn't care if it's your MP3 all the way to a damn TV or Alexa, he's smashing that shit to pieces if it means he doesn't need to hear it anymore.

What would he put on instead? Calming ambient noises that play for hours on end on YouTube. It's the exact opposite of whatever hellscape you just played. It's better.

Brahms Heelshire

Well first of all it ain't classical, so that's a point on the "I Hate This" list.

Second it's not a piano.

Third it's literally "4 Big Guys"-

Not only is this poor man confused about everything the singer is saying, I highly doubt his parents explained LGBTQ+ to him, he's also hating how loud it is.

"Who puts things up their ass?" - Brahms Heelshire 2024

You turn off the music yourself when he practically begs you to.

You're probably tryna hold in your laughter while he's sitting on the floor trying to figure out what the fuck he just heard.

Jason Voorhees

Is there a bigger word for "traumatized"? Because that man earns it.

You're lucky af, if his mom was live she'd hit you with a crowbar so fast- Not kill you tho, she wouldn't dare hurt her boy.

But yeah, he's not saying anything, nor moving. Bro's too traumatized. LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE-

You better give him his teddy he fucking deserves it TmT

Laughing his ass off until the shit is mentioned, even this horny gremlin has his limits.

Can you tell I hate shit kinks? XD

He'd want an apology for you blasting that song so far to that section. But no music! He hates Christmas songs, they're so repetitive and they all sound the same anyway.

Bake him a cake, the more unique the better. His favourite so far is red velvet with cream cheese frosting!

Then when he's finished eating you're getting railed by him not longer after, man's not changed. Not now, not ever.

Freddy Krueger

You can play this entire song with this man on REPEAT and he'd be fine with it.

I'd be surprised if he didn't given his track record and.... slicing open his skin to reveal green "blood" and maggots crawling out.

Would he laugh the first time? ABSOLUTELY!

Would he jokingly sing along, probably.

But he would TOTALLY play this song when going after his victims sometimes. Imagine dying and the last thing you hear is:

"4 BIG GUYS AND THEY GRAB ON MY THIGHS-"

Stu Macher & Billy Loomis

Billy is concerned for your wellbeing. Especially when you start singing it at full force with Stu joining in not long after.

Yeah Stu is enjoying this to the max!

Finds it hilarious, who the fuck wouldn't when you've got humour more broken than Brahms' doll-

But seeing you enjoying yourself to this.... absurdity, at least makes Billy calm down from worry. Now he's just concerned your taste in music may infiltrate your taste in movies.

I doubt the man's used to hearing music.... imagine this being his first time hearing it-

OMG he'd probably think this is normal for music.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??? XD

If it's not his first time hearing music though? No concern, laughter, nothing. He's neutral, given that this is something that makes you a little chaotic gremlin.

He's happy seeing you comfortable enough around to be a "gremlin" as you call it.

Bubba Sawyer

Don't traumatize him more than he's been already!!

Sure he doesn't realise it, or the fact he's used to it, but the poor guy's already traumatized-

Though he's probably more confused in the whole scheme of things. I mean, he knows what sex is. But just the surface of it.

So he's probably just learnt way too much in such a short period of time.

Oh lord what have you done-

Harry Warden

Okay first of all, why is there no GIF of this man? WTF????

Second; man's from the mines, man's old fashioned, you've probably just thrown way too much modern shit in his face way too quickly that he's just staring at you, the music video, and then the floor.

Poor miner is so confused, especially when the "cum starts spraying".

Oh god he'll probably think it's like dust from the mines spraying everywhere.

Fucking hell that's a vision-

Tiffany Valentine

Finds it amusing? Yes.

Judging? Not as much as you'd expect.

Girl's been through a wild ride, hearing you blast out "4 Big Guys" from your phone wouldn't be the most shocking thing in the world.

Hell. she'd probably encourage you to start singing along to it XD

Oh she's gonna use that song to torture someone with it. She doesn't know how yet, but she's got the idea in her head now

[boy-comics]

Hi! Could you write some fluff about xdh and their s/o sleeping together for the first time? I just thought it would be soooo cute + you are one of my favourite writers, and i just know you will make it so good like always 💜 Have a great day!

P.S. sorry if that doesn't make sense, english is not my first language

XDINARY HEROES AND SLEEPING TOGETHER FOR THE FIRST TIME

── .✦ a/n; awh this is such a cute prompt??? and thank you so much, that means a lot to me 🥺 have a great day too <3 (and don't worry, your english is great!!)

── .✦ gunil;

he's the one who pitches the idea—hey, let's go camping for the long weekend, just the two of us. you think it sounds nothing short of refreshing, so with a campsite suggestion from a friend and the required equipment from your family's garage, you and gunil bid goodbye to the city and the stress of college for the next two days and a half.

the first day is absolutely lovely. so is the second day. it's the second night that gives you trouble.

you're swaddled in all of your sweaters and blankets, every possible escape route in your sleeping bag sealed off, and you're still cold. gunil seems to be just fine beside you, having seemed to fall asleep not long after you had insisted very convincingly that you didn't need his blanket nor his extra sweater, and you feel terribly guilty when you finally stick your arm out to poke him awake.

he's drowsy, words slurred and nearly unintelligible at first. but when you whisper that it's too cold, followed by a timid can we maybe share a sleeping bag, he suddenly gains enough consciousness to reply with startling clarity.

oh, of course, baby. c'mere, i'll warm you up.

he quickly unzips his sleeping bag while you struggle out of yours, and in record time, you're squished up against a faster-than-normal heartbeat as he zips the sleeping bag back up and wraps you in a bear hug with a contented sigh.

you're practically half on top of him. the realization that this is the first time you're sleeping with him like this, and that it's happening in the middle of the woods, keeps you up a little longer than you would like to admit. eventually, though, you fall victim to the comforting warmth surrounding you and fall asleep, wholly unaware of the love struck expression on gunil's face as you do so.

── .✦ jungsu;

you had known this was an inevitability from the beginning—you had moved everything into the apartment with him, helped him put the bed frame together, for crying out loud—but when faced with the complete picture, the queen-sized bed with two fluffy pillows and the sound of jungsu brushing his teeth in the bathroom, the reality strikes you like a hot iron.

you are still standing by your side of the bed (is it your side? should you ask?) when you hear him enter the bedroom. his footsteps tread softly over the carpet as he comes over to rest his chin on your shoulder, humming.

is everything okay?

you nod vigorously.

it's just so … domestic. you had never thought that you would have something like this, with someone like him. home. this is home.

i'm just really happy right now, you say, and jungsu presses his nose into the crook of your neck in response.

the two of you pull back the new, clean bedsheets, slip underneath them, and simply sit there for a moment, side by side. then you make the mistake of looking over at jungsu, who turns his head at the same time to look at you, and the giant smile that breaks out on his face causes you to stifle an adoring laugh.

the bedside lamp is turned off. you hold your arms out to each other and soon you are enveloped in him, buried in the smell of fresh laundry and soap and toothpaste and love. he kisses your nose and breathes you in and whispers sweet things into your ear.

goodnight, is the last thing he says to you, and you murmur it back before drifting off.

── .✦ gaon;

it had been a slight head cold at first. then came the fever, the chills, the aches and pains—and before you know it, you're stuck in bed, a migraine screaming inside your skull as you mumble to jiseok over the phone that it wasn't just eyestrain from texting him so much.

he insists on coming over. you tell him not to bother, since you don't want him getting sick too, but to no avail; not even an hour later, he's standing in the doorway of your bedroom with a grocery bag and the biggest bottle of water you've ever seen.

carefully tiptoeing over to you, he smiles and squats down to meet you at eye level, speaking in a low, soft voice. hey, you. even through your misery, you feel loved as he dutifully gets to work, feeding you soup, making you tea, calculating when you can take more painkillers.

you're already dozing on and off when he tucks you in, kissing your forehead with a gentle mwah. but as he starts to pull away, you muster the strength to whisper his name pleadingly.

can you sleep with me?

his eyes go round. he blinks several times, and a blush spreads across his face as your hand peeks out to search for his.

he quickly folds.

aw, well, since you're sick ...

beaming, he crawls underneath the covers. you cling to him while he gently scoots you over, hiding your face in his chest and embracing the warm, relieving darkness. he clings back and tangles his legs with yours. something is murmured against your head, but you're too far gone by then to understand; you don't even know the moment you fall asleep.

── .✦ o.de;

the power's out.

lightning cracks across the sky, angry bouts of thunder rumbling through the windows. wind and rain lash against the glass. you look back at seungmin as he finishes lighting the candles, and he smiles at you, shaking the match in his hand to put it out.

guess you're stuck with me for the night.

you scrunch your nose and smile back, sitting next to him on the couch. he drapes a blanket over the two of you and puts his arm around your shoulders to pull you close.

this certainly hadn't been part of the plan when you had come over after work today, warning him of an incoming rant about the coworker who had made it their mission to tick you off. but you're not one to complain about this, not when the person you're stuck with is the same guy who had patiently listened to your entire rant and still loved you enough to turn a power outage into something romantic.

(he loves you. even in your storms, he still loves you.)

you listen to the sounds of the storm together on that couch. slowly, eventually, you find yourself lying down on it, counting kisses instead of lightning strikes, heartbeats instead of claps of thunder. and as the worst of the fury outside begins to pass, the candle on the coffee table long since blown out, you let seungmin's strong and steady presence lull you to sleep, knowing that he will still be there when you wake up.

── .✦ junhan;

you invite him over because you had just gotten the biggest, softest bean bag chair ever, and of course you need him to test it out with you. hyeongjun is more than willing to oblige.

the two of you drag it to the corner of your bedroom and, with a shared giggle, plop down and sink into the thing, squishing together in the middle. it's so comfy. junhan looks as delighted as you feel, his eyes crescenting, and you want to laugh at how excited you both get over something so mundane, a bean bag chair big enough for two.

tucked against each other, you spend the rest of the afternoon blissfully—playing pvp games on your switch, listening to music, talking about your day. at some point the conversation drifts off topic and you are left holding his hand in your lap, staring at his thumb dragging slowly over your knuckles as he talks about how he wants to paint your nails again.

his voice feels like a warm blanket. eyelids growing heavier and heavier, you finally close your eyes, mumbling an agreement to whatever he is telling you before everything floats off to dreamland.

when you half-wake up, delirious, his hand is still holding yours. he is sound asleep against your shoulder, glasses askew, breaths slow and even. and you are so suddenly overwhelmed with love that you almost wake him up just to tell him as much.

but then … this is love, too. held in the silence of rest.

so you settle back, allow yourself to sink into the softness once more, embrace the stillness and the calm. you close your eyes, and you sleep. and that, in and of itself, is better than any dream.

── .✦ jooyeon;

you remember it distinctly, how he had looked at you like a kid outside a candy store, pointing and grinning expectantly upon seeing the options on the hotel booking site.

one bed, or two?

it hadn't even been a question, really.

so now, here you are, underneath the puffy white comforter in your pajamas, watching youtube videos on your phone as jooyeon exits the bathroom and makes a beeline to your shared sleeping space. you pause your video to look up at him, and he looks down at you.

hey.

hey.

with a broad, satisfied smile that is maybe also the teeniest bit shy underneath all the eagerness, he hops onto the mattress and quickly slides under the covers to join you. when he rolls onto his side to face you, propping his head up with his hand, you follow suit and roll onto your side as well, curious as to what he's going to say next.

his head drops onto his pillow, cozy.

so if i married you, i could see you like this every night? for free?

your face explodes with heat. jooyeon cackles as you swat his arm, blocking his face as you attempt to pinch his cheeks for hitting on you so shamelessly while looking like that, your scolds dissolving into laughter as he wrestles your hands against your sides.

(you don't say no. and as you turn off the lights and snuggle into each other, your fingers buried in his hair as he splays his hand over your waist, you can't help but think, and wonder for the first time ...)

[muffinsin]

Cassandra x fucked up/psychopathic reader

Prompt: Cassandra gets herself someone with little to no morals, someone violent and appreciative of her sadistic tendencies

(Fem reader)

Warning for: Violence, partly NSFW content

Idea inspired and matched by @fantasy-relax . Go check out their take of the story written in the reader’s POV! I absolutely loved it, and I’ll link it here! :) I highly recommend reading it too, as it’s a direct counterpart to this!

Let’s get into it! ;)

Masterlists

Cassandra gasps in shock when she spots the small scratch on her sword. Immediately, this shock turns to anger.

“Hey!”, she yells, relishing in the wide, fearful eyes that land on her.

“"Look what have you done! My favorite sword has a scratch! You useless woman!", she curses.

She grabs the sword tightly, her gloved hand running alongside the blade. It’s not even close to being as sharp as it is meant to be!

Is this foolish imbecile trying to sabotage her?!

" I'm s-orry Lady Cassandra my arm was tired and I-AHH"

Cassandra laughs at the scream that follows, the fearful eyes widening in terror.

The cut made by the sword was fast and made with lethal precision. The arm rests on the soft carpet, and it draws more laughter from Cassandra.

She crackles at the sight of the imbecile falling to her knees, more and more tears spilling down her red cheeks.

"Not tired anymore I bet", she snickers. More screams and cries follow.

Please this, please that. Please spare me, please, please, please, please. As if the word has any meaning to Cassandra at all. She merely rolls her eyes at it. If her prey was a little more entertaining with her begging, at least!

She inspects the bloody blade, a sick smile coming to her lips.

Perhaps, it was sharpened properly after all. She shrugs it off. The scratch still lays beneath the blood!

With a large grin on her face, she steps to the kneeling woman again, her hand reaching out to grasp the little bit of her upper arm that is left.

Again, the woman is howling in pain.

With a quick cut to her other arm, it also falls to the floor. Cassandra crackles as blood spills and splutters in her face.

Now she sees the twitching fingers of the unattached arms, she giggles. She should’ve probably broken them first, but this one is really testing her patience!

With another slash to her chest, the woman screams again. She falls on her back, and Cassandra laughs loudly at the image. With no arms remaining, she can barely squirm away.

“Poor, little maid”, she states mockingly. Like a turtle turned on its shell.

She allows to drop the sword to the floor. It is in need of proper sharpening now!

Instead she brings out her sickle. She relishes in the fear that surrounds the maimed woman.

The maid keeps screaming, until Cassandra at last is done with her and cuts her head in another clean swipe of sickle.

She smirks to herself, yet nearly jumps in surprise upon hearing a hum.

In the doorway, stands another maid.

Golden eyes catch yours, and she gives you a sadistic smile.

"What is it, little morsel? Want to be next?", the taunts, giggling. Oh, two victims in such short times? Ah, and you practically ran into her arms!

She’s crackling with delight.

Rising from the floor, she walks up to you slowly, circling you such as a predator would their prey.

She licks the blood off her sickle, golden eyes wide in excitement. You smell so well already! Perhaps she would let you run along, merely to chase after you. Not that you’d stand a chance against her, of course.

She’s just about ready to raise her sickle to your pretty face when unexpected words fall from your dry lips.

"That was a clean cut my lady, you have a steady hand"

She freezes.

What?

Cassandra is left dumbfounded, her eyes, even with her lazy eye, wide as you easily walk past her and inspect the body.

You bend over it, and all she can do is watch.

What the?

She thinks she is just ready to catch herself again, to resume taunting you and kill you when another comment comes from you.

"You also have to be pretty strong or have a sharp weapon to make this so smoothly"

She finds herself frozen yet again, her flies buzzing in excitement beyond her control.

What’s going on?

She resists the urge to tell you, proudly, that the weapon was rather blunt and it was her sheer strength that allowed her to maim, then kill.

You’re standing now, and it’s as your eyes bore into hers. She doesn’t understand.

Why are you praising her for this? Maids usually cry at her sight. The staff calls her a monster.

And why is she liking your praise this much?! You’re a lowly maid! She shouldn’t be accepting compliments from the likes of you! What if her sisters found out? What if her mother was to fi-

Another comment.

"Truly impressive"

This one makes her chest feel light. Her eyes widen for a moment when she feels her cheeks heating up beyond her control and her flies buzz purr loudly.

Quickly, she swarms away, more and more until she is in the safety of her room.

Her prey is long forgotten as she falls into her large bed, face flushed and an uncomfortable ache in her chest and between her legs.

She groans at both.

With her blush only increasing and embarrassment taking over her, she swarms out of her dress and tends to the sudden wetness between her thighs.

Cassandra doesn’t know why she’s even doing this! She shouldn’t!

It’s a waste of time!

She’s only doing this to scare you!

You deserve to be scared!

She’s just proving things to you!

She definitely isn’t doing this to receive words of praises from you again…!

Still, she holds the unattached leg of a maid tightly, her scalpel making clean cuts into the soft flesh.

"How is this cut for you?", is carved inside in no time. She knows, it’s petty! Hell! She’s feeling petty!

“Pretty cut, bla bla!”, she curses. “I’ll show you this cut!”

You will have to falter in fear with this one! How dare you not fear her?! She’s going to show you! She will give you reasons to be afraid!

A petty pout turns to a wide, excited grin, she drops the leg in front of your door and knocks her gloved knuckles against it quickly and hard.

She feels her excitement bubbling in her chest.

She resists the urge to giggle when she hears you move about and quickly swarms to the ceiling, her dark golden eyes wide and curious as she clings to the wall.

Cassandra nearly curses herself for the blush on her cheeks. Stupid, stupid blush!

She can’t stop thinking of your words from yesterday. Your praise…

Cassandra bites her lip hard as she frowns and pouts.

She isn’t doing this to hear you praise her work!

At last, you are outside the door. Cassandra frowns when you pick up the leg with no qualms at all. Not even a little shriek? She could groan and growl in her aggravation!

Then, her breath hitches when you read her message aloud, a small smirk on your lips: "How is this cut for you?". Your voice is pretty…you are.

Cassandra squeaks suddenly at your next choice of words.

"Aww, My lady is pretty cute"

She’s blushing hard again, her entire face warm and pink, all the way up to the tips of her ears!

Cute?!

Cute?!

CUTE?!

She hasn’t- she’s never- never had anybody-

Cassandra’s eyes widen when you look up, her swarm quickly flying away. She still hears your soft laughter and nearly swarms face first into a chandelier.

Cassandra hums to herself as she cleans her sickle of blood again, when she suddenly hears some unlucky maid walk down the steps to the basement. She grins in anticipation.

Ah, what poor, unfortunate soul have they sent to clean this time?

She walks slowly, yet finds herself frozen in her spot again when she realises it’s you.

You’re inspecting one of the maids, one Cassandra has just finished playing with. She gulps.

What’s going on in your mind? Why are you just watching in wonder?

She prays there will be no blush appearing on her face this time.

She straightens her posture a little, forcing herself to fall back in her confident, predatory state.

"Seeing your future, little maid?", she hums. Golden eyes flicker with excitement when you flinch and she hears your heartbeat rate increase.

Ah, she knew she could scare you! She smirks confidently and hums in delight as she steps closer to you.

"I make sure to keep her miserable as long as possible by-

"Making cuts that are painful but not mortal, absolute brilliant, nothing less of expert like you"

Cassandra feels flustered yet again. What? What?!

She stands with her lips parted, her words having died on her tongue. Thankfully, you aren’t facing her.

She feels her cheeks burning as your fingers graze her arm to move her aside, and in her shocked state, feels herself move back when you push her hip and arm gently.

She watches, dumbfounded, as you take a look around. You seem so curious! So admiring of her work! It’s making her feel so flustered!

She growls, quietly, as though demanding to stop her body from reacting this way! She already feels the pull in her chest and the ache between her legs, the warm feeling on her cheeks.

She recalls her sisters’s words and growls again. She does not have a crush!

Cassandra Dimitrescu does not get such silly things as crushes! Even on a goddess like you…

She watches with more curiosity than she’d like to admit as you inspect one of her recent victims, a man-thing, held up by hooks that go through his hands.

He’s gagged, to stifle his annoying whimpers and cries. Cassandra has grown tired of hearing them.

She tenses when you poke his broken legs and giggle to yourself.

"Very creative", you admire.

Cassandra, happy you aren’t facing her, pulls her hood all the way down in an attempt to stop and hide her blush.

She’s purring, but hopes you’re unable to hear it. For a moment, she hits her own chest, as though to make the purring stop.

Of course, it doesn’t.

Full of curiosity, it seems, you keep exploring.

Praises fall from your lips like droplets from a waterfall, each making Cassandra feel more and more flustered and needy. She shouldn’t be so flustered at this! And she definitely shouldn’t be getting turned on for this!

"Astounding"

"Visionary"

"Imaginative"

Her swarm buzzes so loud, she knows you must hear it soon. Upon finding you’re starting to turn around, she quickly grabs you as a swarm and carries you out the door.

This is a first, she thinks with a blush, Cassandra throwing someone out of the dungeons.

"Rude", you remark as she drops you rather ungracefully and disappears back down.

She swarms until she is able to shut a door behind her, her back sliding against it as she sinks to the floor.

Cassandra’s face is burning bright pink and her flies buzz all too happily. She wishes she could fight the large grin on her lips as she hugs herself and pulls her hood down to cover her face again.

In the following days and weeks, Cassandra can’t help but gift you more limbs.

She can’t help but want to shower you in gifts. You’re so…perfect…she thinks with a dreamy sigh.

Upon finding that human ones are often praised and returned to her, she opts for gifting you animal meat instead. This one, you praise her for too, knowing she is spying, and even cook!

She recalls a couple of her gifts for you

A deer leg with the words “you have pretty eyes” carved inside. She remembers nearly falling from her spot at the ceiling when you read it out loud and hummed: “Mhm, my favourite colour has always been a dark gold”

Those were her eyes!

Her blush only went away hours after you said that!

A boar heart. She spent hours looking for one and was so proud to gift it to you with the attached note written in blood: “Did you know they are the most similar to humans?”

She nearly gasped upon seeing the fond smile on your lips and hearing the pretty giggle.

A full, juicy bunny. “Small like you”, written in blood. She had blushed at the small that was pulled from you.

This goes on for a small while, until one day a group of hunters try to raid the castle and kill the monsters inside.

Of course, they pose no challenge to Cassandra at all!

She crackles in delight, even, at the opportunity to kill this many!

Still, she’s pouting angrily. Daniela has six already! Bela has five and a few spare limbs! And her? Cassandra has only caught four so far.

She curses under her breath. Why must she be slower than her sisters?! She trains by far harder than them! It’s unfair!

With a start as she looks at one of the dead maidens on the floor, she remembers you.

She realises, unlike her, your life is in danger! Was, seeing as the intruders are now taken care of.

Bodies, blood and all kind of gore is in the floors and the carpets of the castle. Cassandra is unbothered by it. She must find-

Golden, dark eyes widen in delight when she first smells, then sees you kneeling on the floor at the main hall.

You’re well! At least she assumes as much.

In her worry, Cassandra can’t help but pounce. She tackles you to the floor easily, her body on top of yours, her thighs on each side of your hips as she leans down to inspect your beautiful face.

"Are you okay?! Did they hurt you?! Tell me who-"

"I'm fine lady bela take care of them", you interrupt gently. She calms down a little, yet frowns again when she sees the three bodies piled on one another in the corner of the hall.

"You took three", she states, curious.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me" You point at the three bodies, and she follows it. They’re all of decent size, and she’s quite impressed that you were able to take them on.

Quite refreshing, for a human.

"They are all yours, Lady Cassandra"

Her eyes snap back to you in surprise.

Hers? A gift? For her?

She smells their blood when she inhales…they smell scrumptious! She wants to take them, so bad. Yet…

There is a rule among the three sisters, to avoid fights, or at the very least lessen them.

Only the prey they hunt can be eaten by them. No sharing, no taking another sister’s prey. She blushes as she is once again reminded of her pathetic four bodies.

Then, she perks up. With your three, this would make seven! She’d have caught the most!

She knows, she is stronger than them…just not faster.

"I killed them, so they are mine, but I’m not gonna eat them, so they are all yours”, you reason. Cassandra blushes again.

She eyes the corner with the pile of bodies and grins widely again. Yes! She accepts! Mother will be so proud! Her sisters will be envious!

You…are so painfully adorable, perfect, hot and make her feel so flustered…

She gasps audibly above you when you grasp her chin tightly.

She keeps staring at you, golden eyes wide when you lift your apron to her face and begin to clean the blood around her lips.

She feels your thumb slide across them and can’t help but attempt to press her thighs together- something that clearly does not work with your hips between them.

Her face is bright red, pink cheeks and tip of her ears, an entirely flushed and warm face.

“Cute”, you whisper, and she really wishes she could’ve stopped that squeak that came from her.

She gasps when your hand moves from her chin and grabs the back of her neck instead, and with wide eyes, she feels herself be yanked downwards and to your lips.

After a second or so, she at last catches up and eagerly returns your kiss.

She’s moaning and whimpering, panting against your lips. She’s so flustered, and yet can’t help but grin and hold onto your hips tightly.

"FINALLY, the pining was killing me!”

You and her jump at the sudden voice in the main hall.

She’s covering you with her body, as though to protect you from an attack.

Instead, Cassandra blinks when her warm cheeks are smudged by her younger sister’s palm.

Quickly, she snarls at her and rips her face free.

"SHUT UP, DANIELA!”

From there on, you’re in a relationship. Cassandra eagerly brings you more and more gifts and shows you her appreciation for your praise in just the right ways.

She appreciates, too, when you bring her gifts.

Often, these include bratty maidens or animals you find out in the garden. Sometimes, rarely, you find her a rose and dip it in blood for her. She’s blushing endlessly when it is gifted to her. It’s beautiful!

She sits next to Daniela, rolling her eyes and acting as though she isn’t listening when her sister tells her of her latest book.

Suddenly, you come into the library, dragging a maiden behind you. Her eyes sparkle in delight! Lunch and a gift!

"Knock first! I know you have manners", Daniela fumes.

Cassandra snickers. She coos at you and resists the urge to get up and cup your cheeks. Like hers, they are flushed red. Yet while hers is the result of feeling flustered, she feels your heart beat angrily.

Still, she teases eagerly.

"Aww, did my draga mea miss me so much?”, she coos.

You seem to ignore her words, but certainly not her.

Pride blooms in her chest as you walk up to the table and grip her sickle.

The maid you’re carrying is dropped, crying and begging as she attempts to get away from you and the two murderous sisters.

Daniela rolls her eyes when she hears Cassandra’s heart rate pick up. She just wanted to gossip!

“Oh!”, Cassandra gasps when you grab the crying woman’s head by her hair, pull out her tongue and cut it off swiftly.

She crosses her legs and pushes her thighs together harshly at the ache and sting of her clit.

Never has she seen something this arousing before. Her face is flushed bright pink and she’s panting from only watching you.

"AHH-UGH!”, the pathethic woman cries. Cassandra watches with a dark, sadistic glint in her eyes as you merely grab her again and bash her head against the floor.

Neither her, nor you mind Daniela’s groans about the beautiful floor of her beloved library.

One, two, three, four, five bashes. She is out, and Cassandra feels as though she is drooling and her lips are dry at the same time.

You drop the woman her and walked to the sadist, and she gasps again when you throw the sickle on the table.

All words are taken from her. She can only look at you, her cheeks bright red and pink, her eyes wide and sparkling with love, admiration and arousal.

“Mgmph!”, she moans as her grin is grabbed and you kiss her deeply until she is panting. She feels the blush on her face just grow bigger and warmer at your actions and whimpers at the embarrassing purrs that come from her chest.

Cassandra bites her bruised lip as her gloved hand is grabbed by you, and smiles almost shyly when the tongue of the maimed woman is dropped in her hand.

She’s crying on the floor, bloodied and unable to move. She knows, if she did, Cassandra would be on her within seconds.

"Here my love, a snack", you speak softly. Cassandra blushes even more. She’s thankful Daniela seems to have taken her leave.

She moans when you kiss her again, your warm tongue inside her mouth and dominating hers easily.

She whimpers, almost, when you let go of her and only cup her bright pink, warm cheek.

You brush her hair behind her ear, and Cassandra feels too flustered to meet your eyes for a moment.

"I still have duties to attend, I’ll see you later, draga”, you coo, and she nearly whines again. The pressure between her legs is becoming nearly unbearable. How can you make such a display and then attempt to leave her to her own devices?!

She knows, she must look like a lovesick puppy. No better than Daniela. Oh, but she can’t help it at all!

She grabs your wrist quickly when you turn around, and blushes harder under your gaze. You’re smirking at her when you turn back to her.

“Don’t go…”, she breathes out, her thighs spreading a little. Her head spins when you inhale and kneel before her, your hand boldly squeezing her thigh through the fabric of her dress.

It seems, your duties can wait. They must!

“I-I’m your superior”, she breathes out. “You have different duties to attend to, now”, she adds.

You smirk at the panting woman, and Cassandra bites her lip at your hum.

“If my Lady wishes so…”, you whisper back, a sly smirk on your beautiful lips.

Suddenly, Cassandra feels herself be yanked off the cushioned sofa and onto the floor. She jumps when you lean close, your hand grabbing the crying woman’s bloodied chin.

“You best watch now, bitch. This is the closest you’re getting to your goal, you filth!”

She whimpers at the arousing scene, though feels puzzled. What? She doesn’t quite understand.

“What do you- YA!”, she shrieks when her hair is grabbed by you and you spread your legs.

Pulling down your underwear and tugging up your skirt, you push Cassandra’s head between your thighs.

She moans, your scent is making her feel lightheaded.

“Start, Cass. We don’t have all day”

She presses her thighs together harshly. She’s so wet, she feels it even through her entirely soaked, black panties.

Cassandra jumps when she notices you step on the squirming woman’s lower back, trapping her in place as you grant her a view of Cassandra’s tongue lapping at your folds.

She blushes at this, but knows: the woman won’t last. She will serve her as a snack after the meal she is having just now.

“Mghmm”, she moans, her eyes closing and her hands resting on your thighs.

Cassandra can’t help but thrust her hips forwards as she drags her tongue through your wet folds. She wants- needs- you so bad. And you seem to be in a similar state.

You’re utterly soaked for her, your pussy drooling your arousal and love for her. She’s panting as she licks you over and over again, before she at last wraps her lips around your clit.

Sharp moans and your nails digging into her head are her reward. She moans loudly, the vibrations of her against your clit only adding to the pleasure she grants you.

“Go-ood, keep going”, she hears you groan. You tug her hair sometimes, and she moans at each move.

Cassandra squirms and gasps, sucking and licking your lips all too eagerly.

“Mhmmmn, mhhnnnm”, she moans.

She feels you grind your core against her face, your hips shaking lightly.

The pathethic cries of the woman only fuel her further and add to the dripping wet arousal between her own thighs.

“Mhnnngn, she’s wonderful at this..!”, you groan, and she blushes and squirms again.

She hasn’t got a clue what the maid has done to deserve your wrath, but doesn’t care either. All she can focus on, is your quivering thighs.

With another broad lick across your southern lips, she collects more of your wetness.

“G-Good, so clo-ose”, you moan, and it’s music to her ears. She feels even more shameful and aroused when she pushes her clothed core against your leg, her soaked, panty covered clit rubbing against your ankle as she ruts against you.

She hears you chuckle breathlessly at this. She’s so needy, so pent up…

As her gloved fingertips dig into you slightly and she sucks your clit a little harder, she feels you orgasm against her lips.

Cassandra moans with you, her back arched and her tongue eagerly lapping her remaining meal.

“C’mere…”, you moan, and she obeys eagerly.

With a single pull and push, it’s now her who is smushed against the cushions. Yet, her cheeks burn hotly. Unlike you, she isn’t sitting.

She’s bent over, her chest and face against the cushions, her behind sticking out for you.

She digs her fingertips into the soft material of the sofa when you lift her dress and tear her black, partly transparent tights easily.

“Y-Yes…!”, she groans, eyes rolling to the back of her head at your rough actions. She knows, she’s right on the edge and utterly drenched for you.

“Good girl”, you praise as you tug her black panties off. She feels the air of the room hit her cunt for a mere moment and whimpers in embarrassment when you place your index and middle finger on one southern lip each, then pull them apart to reveal her completely.

Her face burns and her pussy drools.

“See that?”, you pant. She assumes you aren’t talking to her and it’s making her feel even hotter.

“That’s all mine, you fucking bitch. Don’t you forget that ever again!”, you curse. She squirms, and moans hotly when she feels your tongue drag through her soft folds.

Her back is arched and her thick thighs quiver, her fat ass shaking when you slap it playfully.

Cassandra feels so good, right there from all your beautiful teasing and demonstrations.

She moans hotly when a finger is pushed inside of her, then a second follows.

Her pussy grips you tightly, and a wet, squelching sound is heard with each thrust inside.

“A-Ah! Ye-es!! Don’t stop!”, she moans, her voice high pitched and loud. She groans and moans when she feels your lips wrap around her clit and suck it harshly into your mouth.

“Mhnnnm! F-Fuck! Yes yes! YES!”, she screams.

Your fingers thrust in and out of her fast, rubbing her warm insides and curling at her G-Spot as they thrust.

Cassandra sees stars when your teeth graze past her clit.

Soon, by far too fast for her to feel as though she has any of her dignity left, she cums on your fingers and feels a soft pair of kisses pressed against her thighs.

“That’s it, my Cassandra”

Her head spins at the possessiveness in your voice.

[thlayli-ra]

Prompt:

Punkintyre fucking in Cody's dressing room since they nearly got caught it the hallway (maybe it's the day before or of a ppv) and Cody is never in his dressing room. Drew and Punk trying to stay quiet, and they manage to not attract attention despite their activities, until Cody and Roman (Or Randy if you prefer Candy) walk in clearly about to use Cody's dressing room for the exact same thing as Punkintyre.

(I personally think Roman would be funnier since Drew/Punk could get all pissy about Cody banging him:

Punkintyre: ROMAN?? SERCOISLY?! HE'S THE WORST! YOU CAN'T BANG SOMEONE WHO YOU FOUGHT AT WRESTLEMAINA, WHO ATTACKS YOU, WHO INTERFEARS IN YOUR MATCHES?!

CodyRoman: :/

I just think they're funny)

Anyway, love your writing/Art, keep up the great work! I hope you enjoy their Hell In A Cell match <3

Whelp! The same day I tell my brain not to get distracted, I get this amazing prompt and immediately get distracted 😅

I've written Dead Dove Punkintyre, heart-warming hurt/comfort Punkintyre - now it's time to get a little silly with these two. **Warning** - Punk being the ultimate little shit incoming...

Rating - Mature (18+)

Words - ~3k words

'Were you under the ring the whole fucking time?'

Punk blinked up innocently at Drew who was looking more than a little hot and flustered. 'The signal aint great,' he replied with a cute shrug as he held up his phone, pointing to the app that was currently open on the screen. 'I had to be close by for it to work.'

'You mean, you wanted to be close by,' Drew shot back, seeing right through the tattooed man's lies, 'so that you could listen in while you tormented me.'

'And you did so well,' Punk cooed. 'Nobody would have a clue.'

'Please, please tell me you didn't go live on Instagram this time?'

'I didn't, I swear,' Punk put up his hands before muttering under his breath, 'stupid apps wouldn't let me use them at the same time.'

All of a sudden, Drew's entire face scrunched up and he nearly collapsed in on himself. Quickly, he put his meaty arm against the wall for support.

'Oh?' Punk tilted his head to the side, a cocky smirk rising up one cheek. 'You feeling ok there, Big Boy?'

Drew grunted a blasphemy in reply. 'Turn it down.'

'Turn what down?' Punk bent low in order to see the harrowing expression on Drew's face.

'The thing! The damn thing!' Drew pleaded, screwing his eyes shut.

'Turn the damn thing down, what?'

'Fuck you! FUCK YOU!'

'Tut tut,' Punk shook his head and looked back at his phone. 'You know what happens when you disrespect Daddy?'

Drew's brow shot up when he saw Punk's finger slide up the screen. 'NO! WAIT! GAARRRGGHH!' The large Scot fell against the wall, needing both hands to hold himself upright.

'Damn!' Punk's huge green eyes glistened impishly and he practically giggled with glee. He could actually hear the damn thing vibrating like crazy in Drew's trunks. 'It sure packs a punch, huh?'

'TURN IT DOWN! PLEASE! FOR THE LOVE OF THE WEE MAN! TURN IT DOWN OR I'M GOING TO-'

'Shhh!' Punk scolded the Scot, glancing around him. 'You want the entire backstage to hear you?'

'GAH! FUCK! FUUUUU-'

'Dammit!' Punk grabbed Drew by his large shoulders and shoved him down the hallway, away from prying eyes and ears. Heading the first door they passed, he looked inside and found the small locker room empty. 'Here, get in.' Pushing the writhing Scot inside, Punk pulled the door shut. Now that they were safely hidden away, he could focus on torturing his victim even more. 'You can't take a little teasing, you big baby?'

'YOU HAVE THAT THING TURNED ALL THE WAY UP! DON'T YOU?!'

"Don't be dramatic,' Punk scoffed. 'Of course I don't have- oh, wait, yeah I do. Whoops!' He used his finger to slide the curser on his screen down, but only by a tiny margin. Just enough for Drew to stop yelling but still enough to keep his breath coming in those juicy little gasps. 'That better?'

'You little shitebag,' Drew cursed through his gritted teeth.

'What happened to all that self-control in the ring out there?' Punk asked, sidling up to the Scot who was soaked through with sweat, and not just from the exertions of his match. 'Is it cause I'm here now?'

'You wish that- hrrfff!' Drew's words were savagely cut off by Punk's hand grabbing the front of his trunks, fingers curling tightly around his rock-hard cock and balls...

..and the solid silicone ring around the base of his dick!

'Ooh, there it is!' Punk's eyes lit up with mischief. Using his thumb, he slid the curser up and down so that he could feel the difference in vibrations, grinning from ear to ear as Drew's whimpering kicked up into desperate whines and back down again, allowing the suffering Scot to steady his senses for a few seconds. Before jamming it all the way back up again.

'FUCK! FUCK! FU-'

Punk felt a throbbing down south and couldn't resist anymore. Grabbing Drew by the back of his head, he yanked him down to his height and muffled his howls by shoving his tongue into his open mouth. He hummed joyfully as he invaded the warm cavity, giving Drew some vibrations above to match the ones below, and entangled his inked fingers in his wet hair.

A rumble tingled Punk's lips, not from his own throat but from Drew's. He had finally awoken the Scot's inner beast! Large hands grabbed him by the thighs, lifting him clean off his feet and he was slammed against the wall. Drew thrusted his aching groin between Punk's legs, the vibrations of his cock ring now shuddering through the denim of Punk's jeans to excite his own dick.

'Shhhhhhhiiiitttt,' Punk choked out, the strength of the sensation between his legs almost blinding.

'How'd you like that, ye wee prick!' Drew snarled in Punk's ear, ruthlessly pinning the smaller man's groin with his own.

Inked fingers clawed at Drew's naked shoulder blades, ragged nails digging in as the fierce convulsions pulsed through them both. Overcome with animalistic desire, Drew began to dry-hump the older man, growling at every distressed yelp from his trapped victim.

Until-

'What was that?' Punk lifted his head, eyes wide and ears pricked. Drew hadn't noticed and was still grinding his hips against him. 'Drew! Stop! Someone's coming!'

The Scot finally paused. In the silence, they both heard voices right outside the door.

'Shit!' Punk swore as the handle to the door began to turn. He wriggled free from Drew's grasp. 'In here. Quick, you idiot!' Grabbing Drew by the wrist, he pulled him towards a closet in the corner and managed to squeeze them both in right before the door opened. The two men held their breaths as the voices became clearer, drawing closer.

'I meant what I said,' the first voice said, footsteps stomping into the room, 'I'm done with the Bloodline.'

Inside the closet, Punk gulped loudly. He knew that voice. It was Cody Rhodes! And going purely by the sound of the hefty footsteps following him, he was most likely with his work husband, Randy Orton. Or maybe Kevin Owens?

'So you keep sayin',' a deep, rich voice answered, 'but I'm not buyin' it. Nobody is!'

Punk's jaw just about dropped to the floor. That wasn't Orton. Or Owens.

It was Roman fucking Reigns!

'I don't care what anybody thinks,' Cody snapped back. 'I have been fighting the Bloodline in one variation or another since I returned to the WWE. I've watched them hurt the people I care about, I've endured all the punishment they've inflicted on me, that you inflicted on me. I have bled because of you and your family.'

There was a pause. Tension filled the air so thick it could be sliced with a knife. Punk imagined the two men were standing chest-to-chest and feverishly wished there was a slit or keyhole or something in this closet door he could peep through to watch the action. Instead all he had was a six foot five, quivering Scotsman jamming all four giant limbs into him.

'Can you just-' he hissed at Drew but clammed shut when Cody started talking again. Low this time, quiet. Oh, it was getting serious. Punk pressed his left ear against the door - his bad ear but it would have to do - to hear what he had to say.

'Far as I'm aware, I beat Solo Sikoa in Berlin. I beat the Tribal Chief-'

'He is not the Tribal Chief! He may wear the Ula Fala but that man is an imposter!'

'That's your problem, not mine!'

'You are the WWE Champion!' Roman lets his words hang in the air. 'When you won that belt from me, you made a promise to change the WWE for the better. To lead us all-'

'You were the one who made the mess in the first place.'

'I know...' Roman's voice turned small. Defeated. 'I just... want to fix it.'

Punk pressed his ear tighter against the door. Damn his partial deafness! And Drew wasn't helping with his constant whimpering. Two large fingers tugged at his sleeveless shirt, trying to pry his attention away from the other men outside. 'Get off,' he scolded Drew.

The Scotsman gave a pathetic whine.

'Shush!'

'P-Puuuunk!'

'Shut up! Or else they'll hear you.'

There was a long, drawn out silence, a shuffling of feet. By the time Cody spoke again, his tone has softened. 'You have your chance to fix it now. You're back! Go, take down the Bloodline. For good.'

'But, I can't do this alone,' a squeak of a sneaker. Punk guessed that Roman had stepped closer to Cody. 'I've never done anything on my own. Please, Cody. I need you!'

'Puuuuunk.'

'Will you just shut the fuck up!'

God he wished he could see. He was certain that Roman had his arm out, hand cupping Cody's blushing cheek. He knew that sweet sight well. Punk always loved how his pink cheeks contrasted beautifully with his platinum blonde hair.

Cody heaved a sigh. There was a slight shake to it, like he had been caught off-guard. Punk licked his dry lips and used all of his energy to focus. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend,' he said finally. 'Right?'

'Right,' Roman replied, his tone warmer, like he was smiling. 'Anyway, you remember how it was when we feuded. We were good together.'

'We were good together,' the champion had turned a little hoarse. Just exactly how close was Reigns to him right at that second? Punk was dying to know!

Another tug at his shirt. 'Puuuunk. Pleeeasseeee!'

'I swear to Jeebus, if you say one more word, I'm gonna- woah!' Punk had finally turned around to look at Drew and was shocked to see the scarlet face on the larger man, beads of sweat as big as bullets raining down his brow. He suddenly remembered the toy on his cock and the high-pitched buzz filtered back into his range of hearing. 'Oh fuck, I forgot!'

'T-turn it d-down. P-p-please. I'm going to, I'm so close to-'

'Don't you fucking dare!' Punk warned the Scot, frantically searching his pockets. 'Not before I have a chance to-'

Both men jumped a foot when a long clatter boomed out right next to them. Something had smashed into the other side of the closet door. No, wait, not something. The mumbled moans and loud slurps betrayed the culprits as Roman and Cody, making out sloppy style right there on the other side of the thin wood.

Punk turned to Drew in disbelief, mouthing 'holy shit' to the other man. Drew could only reply with a pained grimace.

'Damn, I've missed this,' Roman's voice rumbled, only an inch or two away from the stowaways. 'You always taste so good.'

Cody was breathless already. 'So... so everybody keeps telling me.'

'Is this an expensive suit?'

'No. Why?'

The sound of fabric being shredded bucked life back between Punk's legs. The blood drained from his head, rushing down south fast, making his jeans all the tighter. Then his shirt was tugged again.

'Daddy?'

Oh, fuck! Drew was desperate now! Why now? Why call him that now? When Punk was starting to ache horribly himself but couldn't do a damn thing about it.

'Daddy! P-please h-help me.'

'I'm trying! I'm trying!' he hissed back, sliding his hands into every one of the pockets of his jeans, struggling to fit his inked fingers between the too-taut denim and coming up empty.

Punk went still.

Horrible realisation dawning on him.

Drew arched his brows wretchedly at him, his blue eyes swelling with dread.

'D-daddy?'

Punk slowly met his gaze, lips pursed tight. 'I... don't have my phone,' he whispered fearfully. 'I must have dropped it when-'

Another clatter against the door and both men backed away, wedging themselves as far back into the tiny space as they could. The wood slammed again and again, rhythmic. Punk's brain went into a spin when he recognised the sound of two men fucking one another like wild animals.

Meanwhile Drew let out a pitiful squeal of his own, the intensity on his cock too much to bear. Punk rushed towards him, ramming both of his hands over Drew's mouth. 'Shhhh, hold on. Just... hold on a little longer.'

The rhythmic banging intensified, punctuated by deep strains of Roman's grunts and higher tones of Cody's gasps. All while Drew's warm dog breath fogged on Punk's hands, the buzzing seemingly getting louder, like a swarm of angry hornets surrounding them. Punk was pressed so tightly against Drew that he could feel the sensation of the cock ring on his stomach, jiggling his lower gut like jelly. On a hydraulic drill. During a mag 9 earthquake!

He grit his teeth, tried to fight back against the growth in his jeans but was failing miserably. How the fuck had Drew's dick not exploded from this fucking thing yet?

The Scot was dangerously close though. Teetering right on the edge. A tear ballooned out the corner of his eye and slid down his cheek.

'No! Drew! No!'

Suddenly Punk's hands were useless. Drew's bellows breaking through the inked fingers.

'The fuck was that?'

Punk's heart skipped a beat. They'd been rumbled!

Ten seconds later, the door was wrenched open, light hitting the two accidental voyeurs concealed inside the closet. 'Punk? Is that you? And... Drew?'

The Scot let out a final strangled wail followed by a long, drawn-out groan of relief. His large legs went slack and he slumped to the floor, back pressed into the corner of the closet and head lolled.

'Oh for fuck's sake, Drew,' Punk kicked one floppy tree-trunk leg with the toe of his sneaker. 'You fucking, pathetic-'

'Eh-hem!'

Punk looked up sheepishly at Cody and Roman. Both men were in a dishevelled state, like they had only had enough time to zip up their flies after the interruption. Cody's shirt was torn apart and his cheeks rosy. Roman was panting, his shoulders heaving.

Punk crossed his arms and lowered his brow. 'Yeah?' he glowered at the pair. 'Can I help you?'

'Well, yeah!' Cody replied incredulously. 'You can tell me what you're doing here.'

'We were here first,' he shot back with a shrug. 'What are you doing here?'

'It's my locker room.'

Punk squinted at him, confused. 'Your locker room?'

'It has my name right there on the door!'

'Oh,' Punk withered. 'I... did not see that.'

'Punk,' Cody scrubbed a hand through his hair with a sigh, 'what are you doing hiding in my locker room, with Drew McIntyre of all people?'

The tattooed man bristled at the question. 'What am I doin'-? What about you? What are you doin'? What would Randy say if he found out you were sleeping with the enemy?'

'You're the one fucking Drew McIntyre!'

'Hey! We were not fucking!' Punk protested before quickly returning the conversation back to Cody and Roman. 'And anyway, come on! Roman fucking Reigns? The guy made your life hell? You faced him at Wrestlemania, twice! He attacked you for crying out loud!'

'Drew McIntyre smashed your face into a metal door and left you a bloodied corpse in your own home town!'

'Roman had his third cousin, thrice removed, through wedlock or however the fuck Dwayne is related to him, beat you to the floor and whip you senseless with a leather belt.'

'Oh... my god!' Cody screamed into his hands. 'Are you even listening to yourself right now? Are the concussions finally catching up with you? Do you even remember what the hell happened in Berlin or have you just lost your damn mind?'

'What did you do to Drew?' Roman's booming voice broke through the two men's bickering and they turned to spy the unresponsive Scot.

'Oh, shit! I forgot! Again!' Punk looked around and spied his phone on the floor close to where Drew had lifted him up earlier but before he could retrieve it, Roman picked it up. 'Hey! Gimme that!'

'Hmm,' Roman cocked an eyebrow as he scanned over the controls on the phone's screen. 'Just-Vibing? What is this?'

'Nothing!' Punk failed miserably at looking innocent.

Roman slid his thumb down the curser and Drew let out a sigh of sweet relief. But as he slid it back up, he tensed up again and thumped his head back against the corner of the closet. Then, when he pressed a button, there was a series of sharp buzzing which Drew gasped with in unison.

'Wait, it pulses?' Punk asked in astonishment. 'I didn't know that!'

'Man, old people with technology!' Cody mocked.

'Shut. Up!'

Roman ignored them and walked over to the ragged Scot. 'Hands up, Puppy,' he said and Drew immediately complied.

'Wait, what?' Punk spluttered out from behind.

'He was mine first,' Roman returned. He dipped two fingers into the studded waistband of Drew's trunks and pulled them back, discovering a wet, sticky mess coating the inside of his gear as well as the brightly coloured silicone ring wrapped around Drew's softened dick. 'You got him a cock-ring?'

'He broke my bracelet, so I told him to buy me a replacement,' Punk shrugged with a mischievous grin. 'Told him he could keep it in his trunks like he used to, you know, for old times sake.'

'It's the same fucking colours too,' Roman rolled his eyes.

'Maybe it's about time he returns it,' Cody side-eyed Punk, slyly.

'Huh?' the tattooed wrestler glanced warily between them. 'What are you-?'

'Good idea,' Roman said, reaching into Drew's trunks and slipping the silicon ring off of him, the Scot purring as he was freed. However, Punk's panic spiked and he tried to back away from the impending danger. 'Here,' Roman tossed Punk's phone to Cody, 'since he sullied your locker room, you get to play with him first.'

'Well, if you insist,' Cody grinned wickedly at Punk, who found himself backed into a corner, Roman and the cum-soaked cockring drawing closer and closer.

'Now, wait, we can all talk about this like gentlemen, right? Guys. Guys???'

[just-a-sleepy-idiot]

Roommate! Herbert West Imagine: Reader having that time of the month

Content/Warnings: Gender neutral Reader!, ties in with my previous fic of him, mild Swearing, Sexism from Dr. Hill

It‘s the 80‘s and even medicine is behind on actually understanding the reproductive health and needs of anyone they don’t consider the standard human being which directly translates into ‚white male‘. There is shame and secrecy on the topic, so you had every reason to believe that it would become immensely uncomfortable as soon as your new roommate saw you in that state. Thankfully, he was so preoccupied with his experiments at all times that you doubted he would notice if you came home one day wearing a Mohawk.

It wasn’t that you ever really saw Herbert outside of his selfmade lab in your basement. Besides his products in the bathroom, his neatly arranged self and the fact that he hasn’t starved yet you had no evidence of him ever actually using any other rooms in your shared flat. Sometimes you imagined him doing mundane tasks to fill in the blanks of never actually seeing him do any. Like ironing his many dress shirts and ties, cleaning his glasses, putting on socks. Now that you were thinking about it it may be more weird of you to be imagining that than the topic itself.

You usually hid your period products out of sight in the bath, hoping he wouldn’t find it so no awkwardness would ensue. It was simply how you were brought up, and having to pretend that this literal bodily function didn’t happen was unnerving. Especially since you realized that you had just gotten your period- and that you had no more products in the house. Fuck fuck fuck-

you just stuffed your underwear with some tissues for now, hoping to swipe some pads in the Hospital without anyone noticing. Surely you would make it till work.

Herbert already called out for you from outside, reminding you that you needed to go now if you wanted to be punctual. Before he didn’t bother waiting for you even though you were going the same way, outside of your Home one wouldn’t have assumed that you were roommates by the way he just minded his business. Lately however he started going to work with you, which rendered your watch practically unnecessary because he was always very much on time.

You came out of the bathroom and grabbed your bag, ready to go. You were very speedy today because you were trying to distract yourself from the cramps you were getting, you might need to get more than just pads from the Hospital once you were there.

What you didn’t expect was that once you arrived, your colleagues were all over you and you were thrown in to handle a full on emergency before you could even think of aiding yourself. You hurriedly waved to Herbert before you were involved in tending to multiple serious wounds of a car crash victim.

You initially planned to go around with him and look into the listing of freshly deceased patients together, as you were looking for a suitable person to test the Reagent on. And shortly after you were finally released from the patient your Roommate picked you up right after, urging you to go after your plan now so it was hard to call for a bathroom break, or rather a ‚I need to find a storage room with nobody in it and stuff my pockets with tampons‘ break. You were starting to get a headache.

Both of you were now hurriedly flipping through files, you had to be quick before someone got suspicious. Herbert had made himself known quickly with his sunshine attitude, especially since he was so keen to piss off your resident Narcissist Top Surgeon Dr Hill. It wouldn’t go unnoticed if anyone saw you two looking through confidential records.

You were surprised when Herbert stopped you by putting his hand on your arm, prompting you to pause and look up. „What?“ This was his idea in the first place, why was he stopping you now? „Y/n“ you tried to flip over to the next page, catching his eyes with slight irritation. „What, we‘re almost..“ „Y/n you’re bleeding.“ Oh.

You threw your head around to see the blood stain that formed on the back of your pants, and it was hard to tell for you if that made you go even paler than you already were today or blush with the vast embarrassment that this caused you.

This was even more embarrassing than if he had found a Tampon or something. Should you move? Quit your job? You seriously considered it while your eyes searched for a bathroom in sight, you needed to get away as quickly as possible before even more people saw it- „Um, I‘ll be back!“ you dropped the files on the counter and swiftly went for the bathroom before Herbert could say anything else.

You found the bathroom empty, thankfully, and hid in a stall to dispose of the tissues you bled through. Even if you had the time and secrecy to just go scrub the stain in the bathroom sink and wait for it to dry, blood was way harder to get off than the coffee you had repeatedly spilled over your shirt until you had approximately more of it soaking through your clothes than was left in the cup when you arrived at Dr. Hill‘s office. Which certainly is not based in a real example. At all.

You considered your options. Should you just go home and call in sick from there? No, it would be weird to not tell anyone in person that you were going home, people already saw you..

Someone cleared their throat and you froze- did someone see you come in??

„If you are.. composed right now you should open the door for a moment.“

Herbert?!? Why the heck did he follow you in? Gods if he wanted to discuss this right now- he was oblivious to personal details sometimes but he wasn’t stupid. And also a med student.

„Um, I think I need to go home early today. We can continue with the files tomorrow.“ You said, hoping he took it as a sign to not talk about the river styx situation in your pants right now.

„That’s not it, open the door and I‘ll go.“

You complied, slowly opening the stall. Herbert looked back to see if anybody was coming before handing you.. a bunch of stuff. „That should suffice, just put your pants in the plastic bag after.“ And with that he really did just.. leave, without further explanation. You looked after him and retreated back into the stall to find.. a blue pair of scrub pants and both pads and tampons stuffed into a plastic bag. He didn’t know what you preferred so he just got both.

He.. your tense expression softened, a surprised smile setting on your face. Of all people you didn’t expect Herbert to be doing this for you, and he didn’t even seem awkward or disturbed by it. Stern as always.

You changed into the new pants, took care of the rest and put the plastic bag with your stained pants in your locker to pick up after work.

Herbert had a way of flickering his gaze around in a sharp, acute way as he was always somewhat alert. Yet when you came back out and found him leaning against a wall with his arms crossed he looked at you, and softly lowered his gaze before looking back up to meet your eyes. Maybe you imagined it to look assuring, but it surely felt that way to you. „Thank you.“ He simply nodded, and you went back to look at files without him even mentioning it again.

Dr Hill likely assumed you two to be a couple and that brought you both peace and stress in a way, because now he wasn’t relentlessly flirting with you anymore and actually let you do your job. But if anything about how you did your job stood out to him he would find a reason to scold you about it. If he couldn’t have you he likely just put you and Herbert on the same list with people to put in this creepy cell with one way see through glass that he had bordering on his office if he gets the chance.

Now he was onto you as well when you returned to work, taking just a second too long to act the way you should when he came up to you in long, malignant slides promising trouble. He consciously ignored Herbert.

„Do you need someone to instruct you on your own job now? You are wasting the budget of this hospital by slacking off like that.“ He huffed, making you freeze by the sudden accusations he threw your way for the simple act of pausing for a moment. „And now you can’t even respond? Are you always this incompetent or just on your period?“ Some by standing staff quietly looked on as Dr Hill didn’t even bother lowering his voice, in fact he seemed to be pleased with this act of public humiliation. Your face turned red, what the hell was wrong with him?!?

„What an excellent example of the alarming parallels between toddlers and people of old age, Dr Hill. You really do act just like a squeamish kid rather than someone who should know better about Medicine by now.“ Herbert chimed in, approaching you two to stand beside you with his hands buried in the pockets of his coat.

„So brain death isn’t the only topic you are lacking in I see. Now, what body function can we attribute your incompetence to then if this is the logic we go by now?“ He took a step closer to him, and he really did not care for the height difference because if Dr Hill were to even lay a finger on him he would prove his intellectual inferiority in front of everyone looking. He was just staring him down as the older man was practically fuming.

„It will be a pleasure to fail you, both of you!!“ He yelled, throwing you a furious glance before turning around, „Stop wasting my time, I‘m having dinner with the Dean and I‘m sure we‘ll have lots to discuss.“ With that he left with this vague threat hanging in the air, leaving you two and the other staff who each now stopped staring after a few moments and returning to work.

You were quiet for a moment, both you and Herbert. Did he.. did he defend you there? Or was it just him trying to one up the man he so very openly despised? You looked at him now, trying to read in the ever lasting frown on his features why he did it. Why this was the second time he had came in to help you out of a highly uncomfortable situation.

He didn’t let anything on. Only later when you were both home you couldn’t bear to leave it unsaid anymore, despite the embarrassment that came from bringing up the topic. „So today um.. you really helped me. Twice.“ He shot you a glance from the kitchen, it was the first time you ever saw him use it. „Yes.“ He answered factually, somehow that made you smile a bit. You stared at the back of his head for a moment. „Thank you.“ He nodded without really turning around and let out a hum. „Why did you do it?“

That made him pause in his movements for a moment, he then turned down the stove. You saw his shoulder blades moving through the fabric of his dress shirt. He moved around some more before returning to the living room with two plates with some simple pasta.

He took a seat and handed you one of the plates, impaling some noodles with his fork.

„First, we are Reanimating the dead in your basement Y/n, I have seen worse than a little blood. Bodies are complex organic mechanisms, everything makes sense and comes together in perfect order. The only thing I defy about it is Death.“ He looked at you intensely, it seemed as if he were hesitating to say what he intended to next. Herbert scratched his neck and looked away for a moment.

„You did not leave when I was in withdrawal. This state isn’t any more pleasing to witness than it is to go through it. Well,“ he pressed his lips together. He was well versed to argue from a logical standpoint, but this now wasn’t a position he really found himself in often nor voluntarily. You understood it, though, and he found you smiling at him. „I see.. Thank you, again.“ He reciprocated your look and then turned his attention towards his food again.

He was glad that you knew what he meant. You often seemed to do so, even when he was rambling or pacing like a madman, and you understood him now too. It was.. nice.

[wittyminds]

Golden Hour - James Potter

Anonymous request:

also, i dunno if you’re still active, since it’s been a while, BUTTT james potter with a girlfriend taking care of him after he’s at a party?

James Potter x Girlfriend Reader

Warnings - Fluff, fluff and more fluff

A/N

sorry it's been ages since my last post, i needed time to do exams, mental health stuff etc and this was distracting me from school (i say that and im supposed to be studying for an exam tomorrow). i am trying to answer the prompts people gave me and i apologise again for the extremely long wait. i understand if you're a little annoyed or have forgotten about asking in the first place. this isn't my best story i'll admit and it is a little short but... i tried :/

You can't remember how long the party had gone on for but, by the time you climb the stairs to the dormitory to crash, the clocks read 2 o'clock. You probably could've stayed longer if Sirius hadn't been flirting with you drunkenly or if your boyfriend, James, hadn't started singing a cappella ABBA. Not that he's a bad singer. He just gets a bit... friendly towards everyone around him.

After wrestling your way through the crowd, you now stand overlooking the party, fighting the urge to facepalm at your boyfriend as he prances about the room.

You carry yourself to your room, changing into your comfies and burrowing down into your blankets. A book that has been gathering dust on your table catches your interest and just as you slide the bookmark out, a loud thump against the door causes you to nearly jump out of your skin.

Springing from your bed, you slowly make your way to the door, fight or flight responses going crazy. Of course, it could just be one of your roommates. They were light drinkers and after a couple drinks they all went down like dominoes. Or it could be Sirius coming to ask if you want another drink or a dance.

You shake your head at the thought and open the door, staring up at the boy swaying in the dim light.

His large frame crashes through the door, almost crushing you.

"James!" You put your hands out to stop him from going any further forward and he staggers, trying to keep his balance.

His brow furrows as he looks around, clearly confused by his surroundings and you can't help but laugh slightly at the sight.

"Hang on.." His voice slurs and he stumbles over his feet again, "This isn't the boy's dorm."

You place your hands on his chest and steady him, "No. No it's not."

"Oh.." He steps back unsteadily into the hall, leaving you to follow him in case of an accident.

By the time you both reach the boy's dormitory, the only victims of his drunken state were an innocent coffee table, a series of butterbeer bottles and a terrified first year who just wanted to go to bed.

You practically carry him to his room, which proves a difficult task given he is nearly twice your size. He mumbles something as you lay him down but not even he seems to know what he's rambling on about.

"Right," You say softly, tucking his blankets over him like a child, "Go to sleep, you idiot."

He smiles a smile that scrunches his nose and you mirror him, giggling quietly.

"You're pr'tty."

Your smile falters slightly and try to stop the blush rising to your cheeks.

You had almost forgotten about his shameless honesty when drunk. Sure, it was nice to hear but he could warn you a little before springing the charm on you. He knows how easily you blush and was constantly using to his advantage.

When you turn to face him, he is still staring at you with large puppy dog eyes and a lazy smile that warms your heart. With a roll of your eyes, you walk back over and perch on the edge of the bed.

"Come again, Jamie?" Your voice was quiet but sweet and his crooked grin made the blush come back in a warm rush.

"You're pretty." His words are less slurred this time and you brush a hand over his hair, sweeping it out of his eyes fondly.

"I think you need to sleep, love." You murmur, trying to ignore the urge to fall asleep curled next to him, "You'll regret it tomorrow if you don't."

"Ugh." His face screws up and you giggle softly at the animated response, "You sound just like Moony!"

You roll your eyes again and just as you stand up, he makes a clumsy grab for your hand and pulls you back. You land on his chest and see him holding back a grunt of surprise from the impact.

You laugh out an apology and he looks away drowsily, clearly away to fall asleep.

"G'night, Jamie." His eyelids flutter and he forces his eyes open.

"What? I'm not sleepy!" He cries, voice scratchy already and rubs an eye with one hand, the other pulling you closer.

"Seriously?" You can't help but play along with his game.

"Mhm." He nods his head, "I could stay up for hours!"

His eyes droop again and his breathing grows heavy.

"Jamie?"

"Mhm?"

"You're falling asleep."

He doesn't reply and when you look up, his eyes are closed.

Taking the opportunity, you attempt to climb off of him but his arm is like a vice and you groan, silently cursing his stubbornness. Your head falls against his chest, his heartbeat filling your ears and you find yourself relaxing at the sound.

The golden glow of the candles sends a warm light over James and you can't help but stare at his still form, taking in every detail. The light dusting of freckles across his nose and the faint trace of a scar from a Quidditch match in his third year.

This is your own perfect golden hour, the two of you snuggled up with the smell of butterbeer and autumn outside.

You wait for his snores to fill the room but they don't come. Had he finally stopped snoring? Or was he trying to prove he wasn't sleeping?

"I'm gonna marry you one day."

His voice breaks the silence and your heart flutters at the words. You look up at your boyfriend and cuddle in closer to his side, wanting to stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you in your own perfect, slightly tipsy, world.

[fandomgirlz01]

Courageous Gift Pt. 1

Greg Sanders x Reader

Imagine on my fandom Instagram?: Yes/No  

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: Yes/No

Style of Writing: Mini Series 

Rating: PG-13 ~ For fluff and cuteness, but more adult commentary or even some triggering content.

Edited: Yes

Word count: 4,820

Post Date & Time: August 16th 2024 at 2:32 AM

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings Here 

Listen to the story be read out loud here {coming soon}. 

Summary:  Based off of S7 Es4 & 7 When Greg becomes victim to a gang of street thugs that have been beating people all night, the reader is forced to fear the worst for her best friend. 

Reader’s Pov:

I get into work and walk down the many hallways from the parking garage and to the locker room, quickly changing into my work clothes. Just as I start to put my old clothes away, Sara walks in and opens up her locker.  

“Hi, y/n,” she greets me and I smile at her. 

“Hi, Sara,” I greet her back as she turns to smile back at me. 

“Are you doing okay? You look a little tired,” she observes and I sigh, shaking my head. 

“Nah. I’m good, just didn't sleep much last night,” I respond and she purses her lips as I pull out my gun and clip it to my hip. 

“Are you good to work then? I could talk to Griss, see if you can get a bit more sleep,” she wonders and I shake my head, closing my locker. 

“No. It’s okay. He already knows. I called in before and asked if I could come in later. Hence why I’m here now,” I inform her with a shrug and she nods. 

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything,” she offers to me as she rubs my shoulder. 

“Oh yeah, of course. Thank you,” I give my appreciation and she smiles at me. 

“Anytime,” she replies with her own light smile. 

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you later. Gotta get to work,” I inform her and she nods. 

“Yeah, see you later,” she agrees before I walk out of the locker room. 

I walk through the lab’s endlessly long, winding hallways, looking for Grissom to talk to him. I just so happen to catch Greg, who smiles when he sees me and starts to walk up to me, making me smile as I start to walk towards him too.

“Way to go,” our coworker congratulates him as they pass each other and give one another a high five. 

“Thank you,” Greg replies before walking over to me and I smile at him. 

“Well, hello, Mr. Spiffy. Don’t you look nice in that suit and tie,” I remark, crossing my arms and giving a knowing smile. He grins as he pops the side of it. 

“Thank you. I had court today,” he comments with a smug look crossing his face and I nod as I look him over. 

“I know. Your first trial with a jury, how’d it go?” I ask and he grins more if that’s even possible, which with Greg it always is. 

“You remembered,” he practically gushes and I roll my eyes. 

“Of course I remember, Greg. We’ve only been best friends for how many years? Oh yeah, 20 plus years,” I sarcastically remark and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“It went great. I did so good that even the nice lady prosecutor took me to dinner,” he playfully boasts as he beams at me with a grin brighter than the sun as we slowly start to walk again. 

“That’s great, G. I guess I owe you dinner now too,” I offer with my own sly grin, even though there’s a pit of boiling jealousy running through me. 

“Actually, by the time we’re both off you’d probably be buying late breakfast,” he jokes with an eyebrow raise and I giggle. 

“You know what I meant, dumbass,” I deadpan as I lightly hit his arm. 

“Yeah, I did…” he sheepishly admits as he rubs his arm. 

“No, but really. You don’t have to buy me breakfast. If anything, I’ll buy you breakfast,” he argues and I shake my head. 

“Greg. How would that even make sense? Please, just let me treat you?” I beg him, giving him my best puppy eyes that I know he can’t say no to.

“Not the puppy eyes… and you bought the pizza on Friday,” he groans out in displeasure, shielding his eyes and I grin. 

“Yeah, but it’s not every day my best friend survives his first day in court with a jury,” I joke with him and he shakes his head as he finally looks at me again while letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Greg… y/n. Good, I need both of you,” Grissom calls out to us as he comes out of his office holding a clipboard and we look at one another before walking over to him together. 

“Lose the monkey suit, you’ve got a scene: liquor store robbery. Here’s the address,” he informs Greg, looking him up and down before handing Greg a paper. 

“Awe man, I like the monkey suit,” I playfully whine and Greg lets out a chortle, shaking his head. 

“Well, too bad. He can’t go on a scene like that,” Grissom notes in humor as he looks at me over his glasses. 

“Is it related to the earlier 415s?” Greg inquires as he looks at the address. 

“Could be— Sofia’s got one of the suspect’s sweaters,” Grissom answers as he scratches at his ear. 

“I need you to seal it, bring it back here and anything else you can find,” Grissom explains, pointing at Greg, who nods as he listens intently. 

“All right. Who’s my wingman? Is it y/n?” Greg asks in excitement as he smiles at me. 

“You're a big boy, Greg. You don’t need a wingman for this,” Grissom pointedly answers, giving him a judgmental fatherly look and I turn to Greg with a grin. 

“Y/n, may I please see you in my office?” Grissom asks and I nod at him before he turns around and walks into it. 

“Primary. Nice,” Greg comments with a light smirk as he hits the paper against his hand like he always does. 

“Good luck out there, G. Be safe, yeah?” I ask him and he smiles, nodding. 

“Of course. I promise,” he replies before opening his arms for a hug. 

I smile back, taking a step forward and wrapping my arms around his torso, squeezing him affectionately. He wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head lightly on top of mine. I turn my head and nuzzle my nose into his neck, melting into him for a moment as all my tiredness comes flooding over me. 

“Hey. You doing okay?” he asks as he starts to pull back from the hug, but I pull him back in. 

“Just hold me for a second,” I mutter out, holding him a little tighter. 

“Sure, I can do that,” he whispers softly as I relish in the tranquility that he provides me with. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, fruit loop?” he asks me when I finally pull back from the hug and I purse my lips. 

“I’m fine, poohbear. I just…” I pause, biting at my lip and he grabs my hand. 

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m here for you through whatever, you know that,” he tentatively rubs his thumb on the back of my hand and I sigh. 

“I’m having sleep problems again…” I relent hesitantly and he reverently nods. 

“I figured. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks and I shake my head. 

“I thought I could handle it…” I admit while refusing to look at him and he sighs. 

“Well, now I’m definitely coming over and you're buying me breakfast,” he jokingly remarks and I look up at him in shock before smiling softly when I only see care written all over his face. 

“You got yourself a deal. I’ll see you in the morning then?” I ask him in a hopeful tone and he smiles, nodding as he gives my hand one last squeeze. 

“I’ll meet you at your apartment?” he questions with another raised eyebrow and I squeeze his hand back. 

“Okay. I’ll see you then,” I agree, nodding and he gives one last nod before backing up while slowly letting go of my hand. 

I shake my head as I feel a blush coming on, but I do my best to hide it. He walks away all the while walking backwards and I shake my head, holding back a giggle as he snaps his fingers before giving me finger guns. It’s only when he disappears that I let out a sigh before turning and walking into Grissom’s office. 

Third Person Pov:

After saying goodbye to y/n, Greg quickly went to change out of his suit and into his work overalls before heading out to his SUV to drive out to the scene. As he drives down the streets of Las Vegas, following the directions on his GPS, he passes an alleyway and sees a glimpse of something strange. In confusion, he stops his car and backs up to look in the alleyway. He rolls his window down and hears grunting and groaning coming from the end of the alley as dark figures all seem to stand over another. Quickly, he picks up his radio and holds the button down for a moment. 

“Control, control. This is CSI Sanders. I need some help,” he speaks into it before letting go of the button. 

“Control, go with your information,” the dispatcher replies and he quickly turns his head back to the scene. 

“Okay. I got an assault in progress. One alley south of Casino drive, cross street Shane,” he recites as he leans forward a bit to look at the sign. 

“How many suspects involved?” The dispatcher questions as she gets ready to take the information down. 

“Multiple, could be the guys who’ve been doing it all night,” Greg continues to relay information and he pauses as he waits anxiously. 

“The closest unit has a five-minute ETA. Rolling code three. Are they armed?” she asks. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know. Ma’am, please, listen. You got to get here quicker than this,” he begs into the walkie talkie as he helplessly watches the group beat the poor person. 

“Copy that. We’ll roll two additional units ASAP. Wait for backup,” the dispatcher replies and the radio goes silent. 

Greg takes in a breath as he thinks for a split second before putting his SUV back into drive. He quickly backs the car up before pulling into the alleyway and driving down it while honking his horn. 

“Move!” he shouts as he gets closer to the group while still honking his horn. 

He hits his siren a couple of times while honking as he gets closer. It’s not until he gets a little closer that a lot of the suspects start to move away from the person on the ground, all running in different directions. 

“Hey, get out of here!” he yells out at them as he waves his hand. 

One of the suspects stays and continues to kick the victim on the ground. Greg comes to a stop and gives a long honk of his horn at the suspect, but the man just keeps kicking. Finally, he turns around and looks Greg right in the face. Greg is in shock when he sees the guy's eyes are stark white, before fear races through him as the guy quickly rushes over to his right and picks up a rock. At first he moves his hand back like he’s going to bash the victim's head open, but then he turns to Greg and starts to run towards him. 

He pulls his arm back as he runs at Greg, who watches in slow motion as he gets closer and closer, seeming like he’s going to throw the rock at Greg through the windshield. Greg makes a split second decision and puts his foot down on the gas ever so slightly, revving the engine just a bit to make the car jolt forward. The guy continues to run at Greg and the car meets the guy in the middle. The guy and the car collide, making him hit the hood before falling to the ground as Greg stops the car to take a moment to calm down. Then all of a sudden, the back window breaks with a resounding crash, making Greg turn to look behind himself, but he sees nothing behind him so he calms once again. 

The calm is short lived though, because his driver's side window is next to be broken. He doesn’t have time to turn and find the source seeing as arms reach in. He fights the arms for a good minute, but he loses the battle and gets pulled out of the driver's side window. He continues to fight the one attacker off, but all the others that he’d chased off come back. He continues to try and fight back, but the group is so big that they easily overpower him. 

They slam him up against a fence and then suddenly in a blur he’s on the floor. He tries to crawl away, but they’re relentless and just keep kicking and hitting him. Slowly everything starts to become distorted and the world spins. One of the suspects turns him over onto his back and all he can really tell is that they laugh before one of them spits on him. Even in his hazy mind frame, Greg still tries to think of anything he can do to make it easier to find them, so as one of them steps over him while going to walk away, Greg reaches up and scratches his ankle. The last thing Greg sees before blacking out is a car side swiping his as it drives away. 

Reader’s Pov:

After my talk with Grissom, I shake my head as I go on a hunt for Sara. Grissom decided that until I can get my insomnia in check, I’m not allowed in the field alone so he’s assigned me to her side or Nick’s side seeing as they’re head senior CSIs. Admittedly I’m not too thrilled with it, but I totally understand why and at least I’m still allowed in the field. It’s only a few minutes until I find her right where Grissom told me she’d be. I find her in the recreation lab standing at one of the tables, writing something down.

“Oh, hi. Long time no see,” she jokingly greets me for the second time today as she looks up from some paperwork on the table. 

“Hi. Did Griss inform you?” I ask her and she pauses as if to think. 

“No. I don’t think he did,” she answers my question with a shake of her head and I sigh. 

“I’m on suspended duty,” I inform her and she gives a small “ahh.” 

“You’re officially on babysitting y/n duty. Well, you and Nicky. I’m not allowed to go to any scenes without either of you,” I continue to explain and she smiles softly. 

“Don’t think of it as me babysitting you. Think of it as just two girls working together,” she remarks with a reassuring smile and I shrug. 

“Still don’t like not being able to work on my own. I’m a level three CSI. I should be okay,” I begrudgingly tell her as I cross my arms and she chuckles, shaking her head. 

“Griss is just looking out for you. You know that,” she points out and I sigh. 

“I know, I just—” I start to confide, but cut myself off. 

“You know what, forget it. What are you working on?” I ask her as I shake out of my daze and walk around the table. 

“Okay…” she skeptically agrees as she seems to watch me closely for a moment. 

“I’m trying to find out how many different shoe patterns we have,” she explains as she finally turns back to the table and lifts a shoe imprint up. 

“So far I’ve found about three shoes and matched them in the solemate database. Griss wants me to see if I can match any of the others,” she finishes explaining as she holds up a paper with the shoe print and all its information on it. 

“Want some help?” I ask with a timid smile and she smiles, nodding. 

“You know what? That would actually be so great. I have over ten more to match,” she grins as she picks up a pair from the side of the room and holds them out for me to see. 

“Get kickin,” she jokes as she hands me the pair and I laugh. 

“Aye aye, captain,” I jokingly salute her before sitting on one of the stools to switch out shoes as she laughs, shaking her head. 

“Phew, I could use some water,” Sara comments through labored breath after we finish the last three kicks. 

Together we worked on each taking different pairs of shoes and kicking the dummy. So far we’ve each done about three pairs of shoes and seem to be half way done. 

“I know. That was so much work,” I pant out as I walk over and grab a towel off the table. 

I long ago discarded my top and now stand in only my tank top along with a pair of sweats I’d gotten from my locker after the first set of shoes. I start to wipe at the nape of my neck as she walks over and picks up her water bottle.  

“Tell me about it. I haven’t worked out since—” I start, but she holds up a finger as she picks up her ringing phone from the table. 

“Hold that thought, it’s Sofia,” she informs me as she answers the phone. 

“Isn’t she with Greg?” I ask, but only receive a nod in response. 

My brows furrowed in confusion as she talks to Sofia for a few minutes before her face falls and she’s quickly nodding while promising we’ll be there soon. She quickly hangs up before slowly looking at me and something feels off about her look. 

“Go get your safety vest and gear,” she commands in a very serious tone and I give her a confused look. 

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” I ask her and she sighs, putting her phone in her pocket. 

“Okay. Ahh. Here, sit down for just a second,” she tells me as she pulls the small stool out from underneath the work bench. 

“Ah, okay. Sara, please just tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me,” I beg her and she sighs, squeezing her eyes closed. 

“Listen. I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. I’m just going to tell you straight, okay?” she asks with a questioning look on her face. 

“Okay. Just tell me…” I reply with a light nod and she sighs again. 

“Greg’s been hurt in the field,” she blurts out and immediately everything comes crashing down. 

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Okay. It’s okay,” she panics as I lightly fall back and she catches me. 

“Bad idea to sit you on a stool,” she sarcastically comments more to herself than me as she rolls her eyes. 

“I’m okay. I promise. Is he okay? Sara, tell me he’s okay,” I beg her while squeezing her hand and she sighs. 

“Honestly, I don’t know. I just told Sofia that you and I would be there as soon as we could get there,” she informs me and I immediately hop off the stool. 

“Let’s go then,” I declare as I rush past her, not giving her a moment to reply. 

I quickly race to the locker room with Sara right behind me and open my locker as fast as I can. I pull my vest out and slip it on over my tank top, not caring to change, pulling the velcro straps tight. Then I grab my gun and clip it into its holster before turning to Sara, who now has her vest and gun too. 

“Ready to go?” she asks me and I nod. 

“As ready as ever,” I mutter before we both quickly make our way to her car. 

After we get into the car, she turns it on and makes quick work of pulling out. She turns on her sirens, making the drive much quicker. Soon before I know it, she pulls up just at the edge of the alley way and I’m already unbuckling. She doesn’t even fully get out herself before I’m rushing forward, pushing through all the people that officers hold off. I see Sofia as she talks to some lady. 

She looks up at me for a moment and my heart drops when she gives me a frown, making me stop in my tracks just as Sara catches up. I stand frozen, my mind going a hundred miles as Sara lightly grabs onto my arm and squeezes for a moment, effortlessly breaking me out of my practically catatonic state. She starts to continue her walk, almost pushing me along and we meet up with Sofia. 

“Hey,” Sara greets her as we push past the scene tape with Sofia now following us. 

We finally make it around the ambulance and find three on the ground. I let out a quiet gasp when I see Greg laying on the ground, almost peacefully, and for a moment the world starts to spin. 

“Why isn’t there a medic on Greg?” Sara asks Sofia as she grabs onto my arm to stabilize me when she sees me sway a bit. 

“He’s been stabilized, Sara. Y/n, he’s going to be okay,” Sofia promises as we continue to walk over to him and she splits off from us. 

We both bend down next to him and Sara grabs onto his hand. I reach forward and rub at his head as tears make their way to my eyes. As I touch him, he breathes out and I choke back my tears. 

“Y/n… Sara,” he faintly speaks to us and I nod at him. 

“We’re here, Poohbear. We’re right here with you,” I tell him as I comb through his hair with my fingers. 

“I didn’t think you could see us,” Sara softly adds with sad humor lacing her voice and more tears well up in my eyes. 

“I can’t… but I know y/n’s touch… and that Sidle scent,” Greg replies and I let out a wet giggle as tears start to fall now. 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she replies to him with a light chuckle before looking at me and I continue to try and hold my tears at bay. 

“I scratched one of them…” Greg coughs out and Sara lifts the hand she holds when he moves it ever so slightly. 

“And you should check my vest. I think the same guy spit on me,” Greg continues to explain and I rub his head more in hopes of comforting him while frowning. 

“And one of their cars crashed into the Denali,” he informs us and Sara looks up for a moment as I choke back more tears. 

“I guarantee there's transfer on it,” he adds on through his slurred, tired words and I continue to rub at his head. 

“You should process the scene now. Me later,” Greg mutters out to us and I shake my head as I hold back a sad chuckle at the thought of him still being a CSI at heart, no matter what. 

“We came here for you, Greg,” Sara tells him as tears make way to her eyes now too. 

“Oh, Poohbear. You don’t have to be a CSI all the time,” I giggle out though my tears as I shake my head and Sara shakes her head, chuckling herself. 

“Leave it to Greg,” she comments and I smile softly. 

We sit with him for a few minutes and the whole time I have to remind myself I can’t move Greg until he’s processed. It’s hard when I just wanna cuddle and hold him in my arms. Nick soon shows up and Sara stands to go talk to him. I'm assuming she relays what Greg had told us before she walks back over to us, bending back down. 

“Okay, Nicky’s going to get the evidence around us started. I’m going to collect evidence from Greg, then the paramedics will take him to the hospital. I’m assuming you want to go with him?” she informs me before asking her question and I nod, sniffing. 

“Umm, yeah. I'm gonna go with him,” I reply as I continue to lightly scratch at his scalp and she nods, rubbing between my shoulder blades lightly for a moment. 

“Ok. I'm just going to get some stuff from Nicky’s kit. I’ll be right back,” she informs me and I nod at her, not having the will to speak as my throat gets tighter and tighter. 

“I’m okay, fruit loop. Promise,” Greg whispers out, giving a small wince of a smile after she leaves and let out another wet laugh. 

“I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, doofus,” I snarkily reply as I sniffle, reaching up to wipe at a lone tear that falls. 

“Yeah, but I hate when you cry,” he whispers out again and I choke back more tears. 

“G. Don’t think about me right now. Stop talking, save your energy,” I insist as I continue to rub his scalp and he gulps a bit before nodding. 

I sit with him for another few minutes before Sara walks back over. She has a few things in her hands as she bends down again. She opens one of the swabs, using it to get some of the spit off of him before pushing it back in the tube and closing the lid. 

“Okay. The rest of processing will have to be at the hospital. So I’ll, uh… meet you there I guess,” she informs me with a shrug and I only nod at her. 

“Okay. You guys are good to take him then,” she calls out over my shoulder and soon the paramedics are walking over. 

I stand up and Sara holds me in a hug as I keep my stare locked on him. They roll a stretcher over and they quickly but carefully move Greg onto it. He groans for a moment at the initial movement, but soon he’s calm again. They start to roll him to the ambulance and Sara lets go of me. 

“Fruit loop?” he calls out almost meekly as he moves his head, looking for me. 

“I’m right here, Poohbear. I’m coming with you,” I softly promise him and he reaches his hand out to me. 

I hesitate, not wanting to ruin any evidence that might be on him, but I feel a hand on my back, making me look at Sara. She smiles softly at me for the millionth time today as she rubs my shoulder ever so slightly. 

“You can hold his hand. It’s okay. It won’t ruin any of the evidence, I promise,” she tells me and I shake my head, letting out a quiet choke and she nods at me. 

“It’s okay. Really,” she continues to prompt me, lifting my arm to his. 

I hesitantly grab onto his hand and it seems he relaxes ever so slightly, making my hesitation quickly fade. I squeeze his hand, letting him know I’m there and look up to nod my thanks to Sara as she just smiles softly back. 

“I’ll meet you there, okay?” she asks in a very calming tone. I only nod as I watch over Greg’s face that’s full of black and blue bruises as everything seems to fade out of my mind. 

The ride as well as the arrival to the hospital is all hazy now as I sit in the main lobby. I wait anxiously for Sara and Brass as they finish processing and questioning Greg. I groan, bringing my hands up to rub my face as my leg shakes in anticipation. Finally after what seems like forever, Sara and Brass turn the corner and start down the hall. 

“Y/n. He’s ready for you to go on in,” Sara tells me as she comes up and sits down next to me. 

“He’s actually asking for you,” Brass adds on with a light smile. 

“I can take you to his room before going to help Warrick and Nicky if you’d like,” Sara offers as I blink up at her before nodding. 

She holds an arm out for me and I stand on shaky legs. Brass gives me a warm fatherly hug and rubs my head before saying a quick “bye,” as well as promising to catch the guys that did this. Sara and I start to walk, her leading me mindlessly through the halls. 

“His room is just around this corner,” she informs me and I freeze, making her stop to turn to me. 

“Y/n?” she asks and I stay frozen. 

“I don’t know if I can go in, Sara,” I tell her with a gulp as tears well up. 

“Y/n. He’s okay. You’re okay. Everyone is okay. He needs you. He needs your comfort,” she sympathizes with me and I sniffle before standing straight. 

“Ok. You're right, take me to him. I’m ready now,” I tell her with a determined nod and she smiles softly before turning to start walking to his room again. 

To Be Continued…

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[shippingmyworld]

Not really a writing prompt but I've been thinking about what would happen if tigerghost got their powers temporarily swapped. Let's say Jimmy recently invents a device that can do that and they gets asked to test it, saying it will be like some sort of team exercise. So now it's Manny with the ghost powers and Danny with the El Tigre belt and they have to teach eachother how to use the others powers. Hijinks and better understanding of life in eachother's shoes ensues yadda yadda yadda. I just want your take on that scenario. Heck, I might make art of that if I feel like it but who knows I actually need to practice drawing the first :P

Ohhhh this is a concept I've never thought of before. But the first thing that popped into my head was that Danny would be having an existential crisis about turning his bf into a ghost ("Oh my God, does this mean we killed my boyfriend?"). SpongeBob's gotta calm him down a bit while Jimmy works on reversing the power swap.

Meanwhile, Mannys having the time of his life being able to fly around and his prank game has never been greater (Jenny and Timmy end up being his victims for most of the day).

And yeah I think Mannys enjoyment of Danny's powers would totally give Danny another perspective and totally convince him to start enjoying himself a little more. Once the powers are swapped back, Danny would totally start parking the others around HQ just to make Manny laugh.

[circle--of--confusion]

Hunter's Moon

Summary: Copia would say eternal life has been pretty good but it comes with one small issue. The caveat of the occasional bloodlust. Sarah softly brushes her fingers through his hair. “Tell me what’s on your mind, my love.” Copia nuzzles his head into her hand while she touches him. He decides then and there to tell her. “I need to hunt.” ----------------- Copia finds his urge to hunt and sink his teeth into someone has come back. Sarah and Copia decide to play out a fantasy to help him with his bloodlust.

Ghost/Kinktober prompt: feral/primal

Paring: Cardinal Copia | Dracopia X OC [Sarah]

Words: 4.1k

Tags: Explicit! established relationship, evil Copia bloodlust, roleplay, brief kink negotioation, dom/sub undertones, naked woman/clothed man, smut [oral sex, vaginal sex], blood drinking, rough sex, passing out, aftercare, fluff, cardiophilia [like a tiny bit]

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Copia would say eternal life has been pretty good but it comes with one small issue. The caveat of the occasional bloodlust.

In the beginning it was fine, Copia felt no remorse for his victims. Very often he hunted the vile and decrepit so the innocents end up spared from his wrath. Once he reached the ministry, a majority of the urge went away from the steady assistance of volunteers to help him feed. He was able to tamper down the symptoms and after a while, his urge to drain someone of their blood was nonexistent. However. His passion and excitement from his relationship with Sarah has caused the feeling to come back. Copia thinks maybe his lust for Sarah has clicked on the switch for the feral desires he never had time to entertain as a member of the clergy. He feels the occasional rumble in his belly now, the urge to hunt something down and sink his fangs into it.

Copia lies awake in bed while his beloved amore sleeps soundly in his arms and he recalls the intimate knowledge of what her blood tastes like.

When it’s tinged with happiness, it tastes sweet, like a bowl of ice cream.

With lust it's almost too indulgent. He compares it to a rich chocolate cake.

Copia ponders deep into the night what it would taste like tinged with fear. With adrenaline.

One evening while they cuddle together in his bed, too plagued by his racing thoughts, he’s unable to respond to Sarah’s update on her day. He’s too lost in his own mind to pay attention to her and he knows that she’s going to catch on soon. His hums and distant “Yeah”s won’t cut it for long. Copia senses a silence in the room and looks down at where he holds Sarah to his chest. She glances at him with a quizzical look and asks what’s wrong. He’s been distant tonight and she wants to know what’s been on his mind.

Sarah softly brushes her fingers through his hair. “Tell me what’s on your mind, my love.” Copia nuzzles his head into her hand while she touches him.

He decides then and there to tell her.

“I need to hunt.”

She’s shocked at first, pausing her hand in his hair to look at him and he can’t read Sarah’s face as she processes his words. Her eyebrows raise, lips forming an O shape; she looks off into the distance before looking back to Copia. She takes her hand away and rests it back on his chest.

“What does that mean for you?” She asks.

He explains, struggling to be honest.

The dormant, primal part of him is waking up from a long nap. Copia’s attraction towards Sarah has him yearning for the taste of fear in her blood. He needs to chase after her, hear the blood pump in her veins while he follows closely behind. Copia needs to feel how she’ll tremble for him as he fucks himself deep into her while he practically drinks her dry. He wouldn’t actually drain her though, he reassures Sarah, he’s just been restless and needs to find an outlet soon or he thinks he might explode. Copia thought he might consult a ghoul with her permission but felt too much guilt at the idea of being with anyone else even in that way.

For the duration of his confession, he hadn’t found it in himself to look at Sarah, too ashamed of his desires. He didn’t realize he was shaking until he felt the soft hand of his lover gently stroking her thumb over his cheek, softly shooshing to ground him. She looks at Copia with such care, not trying to spook him. Sarah can tell it took a lot for him to say all of that and she can’t deny a part of her is definitely intrigued. She thanks him for being honest and telling her what he wanted. He finally looks at her and his lips are slightly parted in surprise. Sarah’s pupils practically cover her iris, she’s flushed, taking obvious breaths, and he can sense a rush of desire on her part.

Copia stutters, asking her what she’s thinking. He clutches Sarah close to him and raises a hand to cup her cheek to look into her eyes. She admits bashfully that she had a dream about him chasing her and that she thinks about it from time to time. In her dream, he was so overwhelmed by her, so attracted to her that he had to give in to his impulses and take her without thinking. Sarah woke up that morning hot from head to toe and she had to take care of her growing arousal before she started the day. Copia quirks up an eyebrow at her own confession and grins. 

They discussed more that evening a plan to make their dreams into a reality. He will come up to her and signal to her that the game has started. Sarah will run away while he stalks after her and when he catches her, he will let out his frustration on her convenient body. After they were done talking through the details, too overcome with excitement at the thought about what will happen, Copia and Sarah consummated their plan with a passionate night together as an appetizer for what was to come.

◊◊◊◊

Sarah hadn’t seen Copia for a few nights; they decided to stay away to let the tension build. Tonight, she’s walking through the ministry library for a book to lull her to sleep. Nestled in a secluded corner of the historical fiction section, she feels a prickle on the back of her neck. Sarah senses something, someone, is watching her. All sounds of the library are muffled from the books and carpet so she doesn’t hear the footsteps of the figure that creeps up behind her.

She walks down to another section of shelves and there it is, she can feel the watchful glare on her back. Sarah pulls her robe she’s wearing over her night gown tighter, adjusting the tie around her securely. In the corner of her eye, she notices a dark figure coming closer to stand behind her.

“Good evening, Sorella.” The voice purrs behind her ear.

She jumps slightly. “Cardinal.”

Copia wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer. “How are you doing tonight? Looking for a distraction?” he hums, playing with the ends of her robe’s belt.

“Yes, Cardinal. I’m looking for, oh!” She jolts when she feels Copia place a small kiss to her neck.

“For…?” He smirks, urging her to continue.

She takes a moment to compose herself while he places small pecks on her neck and shoulder. “For a book!” She bursts out into the quiet room when she feels his teeth graze her skin. Sarah cringes, hoping she wasn’t too loud. Copia chuckles behind her and she can feel the rumble in his chest on her back.

He rests his chin on her shoulder. “Coincidentally, I need a distraction as well! Should we help each other out tonight?” He hums, voice going up as he asks his question.

Sarah nods. “Yes! That sounds like a good idea. How could I help you?”

He inhales deep at her neck, taking in the anticipation before speaking low in her ear. “I’ll give you thirty seconds, Sorella…” he smiles. “Run.” Copia whispers casually.

He removes his arms from Sarah’s body and steps back to give her room. She stands still for a few seconds before looking back at his face. She’s taken aback by his choice of clothing. Copia has on the black, sinfully skintight suit along with his cape Amelia made. He’s devilishly handsome, slicked back hair and impeccably applied eye paint, looking at her with hungry eyes. The white of his infernal eye seems to glow in the low light of the library.

Copia tilts his head and laughs. He shoos her away, counting down steadily. “Twenty-four, twenty-three, twenty-two…”

She comes-to with a soft, gasped “Oh!” and turns to run down the row of shelves. Sarah gives an awkward and rushed “Goodnight!” to the library attendant at the front and books it to anywhere but the library. Feet making decisions before her brain can, she realizes the garden is getting closer. Sarah looks back and Copia stalks towards her, a calm stride compared to her frantic one. Her heart beats wildly in her chest and Copia hears it, smiling.

Every few seconds she looks back and he’s getting closer to her as she makes futile attempts to find refuge from a vampire with bloodlust. Down the long, windy paths of wall-like bushes, Sarah stops near a group of tables in the courtyard. She rests her hand on one and leans forward, heaving raspy breaths. Her throat feels dry as she lets out a wheeze. A hard body grabs her from behind and she’s pulled upright by a strong hand.

“You let your guard down to rest, dolcezza.” Copia whispers into her ear. “A mistake.”

Copia’s lips trail along her neck as he pulls the robe open and the collar of her nightgown aside. Sarah trembles, biting her lip to suppress a whimper from his mouth sucking lightly on her skin. “I-It’s too revealing here, Cardinal. Someone could find us.” A gasp betrays her as she feels Copia’s hands grope around her chest and pulling up the hem of her nightgown. Cold air hits her thighs and goosebumps slowly spread along the exposed flesh.

“It’s late, Sorella, and no one is ever in the garden at this hour.” He smiles once his hands reach the bare warmth between Sarah’s thighs. “No underwear?” Copia’s finger moves to feel the slick lips of her pussy and she involuntarily opens her legs a few inches to help give room for his hands. “You vex me, did you know that?”

Sarah shudders out a sharp moan once Copia begins to rub lightly along her sensitive flesh. “H-How?” She bites her lip to hold back a groan as he strokes with more pressure, sliding up to slowly circle her clit. The feeling of his warm, soft leather gloves on her skin is all she can focus on while his fingers glide with ease from the collection of her slick.

“Your very essence compels me. It taunts me, fills my senses until all my mind can focus on is you.” Copia presses a deep kiss to her neck, licking her skin and humming before he moves to speak again. “Your heart calls to me, begs me to be taken, dolcezza.” He leans in close and growls low by her ear. “I can smell it on you this very moment.”

A heat pools in her stomach as Copia continues to play with her pussy. His fingers dip lower, teasing her entrance and Sarah’s knees nearly buckle at the light press of his fingertips. “I’m so s-sorry, Cardinal.” She closes her eyes, surprise flutters from her pussy cause a gasp to escape from her lips.

He chuckles lowly behind her. “Don’t act so coy, Sorella. You always linger around me, leaving your scent in my space after you leave. I think now I deserve more.”

Copia’s fingers leave her body in a quick movement and Sarah is then abruptly turned around to face him. His eyes stare down at her, wide and almost glowing, white eye especially brighter than normal in the moonlight. His fanged mouth smiles hungrily at her before he lunges forward to capture her lips in a bruising kiss. “Please, Cardinal…” Sarah sighs as his lips roam to her neck, leaving small nips. A warning.

He sinks down to his knees, lifting up the hem of her nightgown. Copia presses a soft, reserved kiss to the inside of her thigh and then looks up. “Would you grant me the honor, per favore? I need to taste you.” Sarah nods rapidly and he surges forward, mouth connecting immediately to the soft, wet warmth of her pussy. Copia hums, shifting his hips below.

Sarah’s head leans back against the table as she lets out a loud, unrestrained moan into the garden. He licks and sucks, strong hands grabbing on to her hips to hold the two in place as he quickly brings her near ecstasy. Her hips try to roll with the rhythm of his tongue but his sturdy grip on her prevents any movement. She’s close, whimpering shamelessly into the cold air as it contrasts with the warm fire of desire Copia stokes below.

His tongue licks her in quick movements, drinking in her arousal and it only fuels more as he goes along. When his lips wrap around her clit, sharp shocks of painful desire shoot to her cunt. She’s nearly crying from the sensations and he’s barely done anything. Sarah’s robe and nightgown feel like a straitjacket, a lead blanket keeping her from floating off into bliss. Her breathing quickens, feeling the coil in her stomach tighten just before it’s let go. But just as soon as his mouth touched her, he retreats back, keeping her from heaven.

Copia groans below as he leans back, eyes closed and mouth open, lips and chin glistening in the lamplight with her juices. All of his lip paint is gone. “Are you enjoying this as much as I am? Naughty, naughty.” He strains against his pants as his hand moves to unbutton the waistband so he can relieve his hard cock form its confines. Copia pumps himself slowly, letting out some of his pent-up energy. “You taste so good. So eager for more.” He stands, taking his other hand to caress her cheek before sharply grabbing her chin to look into her eyes. “Take off your clothes.” He orders, letting go of her chin to lean back and watch.

Sarah nods and quickly slides off her robe. It falls to the ground in a puddle of satin and soon her chemise nightgown follows. Her naked, flushed skin feels the cold air all over and goosebumps riddle her skin. Sarah’s nipples harden under the chill and when Copia moves forward to grope her, his fingers spend time pinching and squeezing. She whines out as he rolls one of the hard buds in his fingers, her hips squirm as she tries to breathe through the gentle torture.

Copia leans forward to whisper in her ear, patting her side. “Up onto the table and sit on the edge, please.” Sarah complies, opening her legs to make room for his body as she adjusts her body on the table. She winces as her skin meets the sharp chill of the metal on her skin. Copia takes hold of his cock, rubbing the tip slowly along the new slick that’s collected at Sarah’s pussy. “I won’t be gentle.” He whispers softly, holding her face in his hand before he moves quickly for the next part.

There’s a split second for her to process and then she’s crying out as Copia thrusts harshly into her cunt. “Cardinal!” She gasps at the sudden sensation of being filled by him, his cock hitting deep inside her. He growls from the feeling of being fully surrounded by her warmth in the cold night.

“I w-wasn’t going to warn you, ah merda, but I felt like being nice.” he struggles, too overwhelmed by her presence. “Feels.. so good.” Copia gasps. He begins to drag himself in and out, quick snaps of his hips forward as they cling to one another. His lips roam Sarah’s shoulder, pressing kisses to her burning, sensitive skin as she cries out with each hard thrust. Copia’s fangs drag along her shoulder and neck as he searches for the right spot to bite.

“Please, please. Please…” Sarah whimpers. However, she can’t figure out what she’s exactly pleading for.

Copia finds his spot, pressing down harder with his lips, softly biting, teasing her neck. His fangs pierce the skin, blood rushing through to his tongue and he groans at the taste. The unique, delicious taste of her blood drives him crazy. Sarah huffs a breath, willing herself to breathe through the pain. Her heart beats wildly in her chest and Copia can sense it. A strong rush of desire courses through her veins as she tries to focus on the way he rolls his hips back and forth, teasing her sweet spot deep inside with every thrust towards her. Feeling the drag of his head through her tight walls have her thighs clenching around his hips.

Copia grunts around her neck, removing his mouth briefly to lean back and just feel. “You take me so well.” He sighs, slowing his hips slightly to savor the snug hold along her walls. “Like your body was made for me, merda!” his cock twitches, close to spilling already. “I’m never letting you go after this.”

Sarah can only make small high-pitched sounds, mewls of pleasure as the venom kicks in and washes over her like a gentle caress. “Cardinal…” Her voice quiets towards the end, unable to form a single word in response as her tongue begins to feel heavy. Small flutters begin to roll through her cunt.

“You’re close, dolcezza. I can tell you’re aching.” Copia grabs one of her hands and places a finger over her clit, his over hers while he guides her to rub it in soft, slow circles. Sarah’s lungs punch out a gasp and he coos at her. “Keep it like that for me?” Removing his hand, he presses his mouth back to the bite, kissing softly before pressing his teeth into her skin once more to drink her divine nectar. Sarah winces lightly in reaction, the venom helping ease any pain that might’ve bubbled up.

Adrenaline, he finds, tastes savory. It’s strangely comforting.

He drinks, feeling his own release approaching. The flavor of her blood mixed with the lingering taste of her pussy on his tongue make him feel lightheaded. He can sense that Sarah is nearly at her limit, the quick, pulsing walls of her cunt have intensified as he went back to drink from her. He hums, moving his hand back down to help with the pace he set with her fingers. Copia presses down to her clit and her breath hitches, the quivering sensation within her becoming overpowering and she trembles as the tight coiling returns deep within her body. Soon she’s falling, lolling her head back, unable to keep it up. The coil springs free and a wash of euphoria takes over her body making her feel feather-light as she lightly circles below. Sarah feels like she’s floating as Copia drinks more of her blood, humming at the taste now laced with her orgasm.

The more he drinks, the shakier she gets. Her limbs begin to feel like a heavy burden and it becomes more of a chore to stay upright. Sarah paws at his chest, unable to form a single thought or speak a single word. Her throat feels as if it’s filled with sand and her bones feel like lead. All of her words come out as incoherent babbling.

Copia leans forward, holding her as he gently lays Sarah down while continuing to drink her blood. His thrusting has become sloppy as he gets close to his own tipsy high. He removed his mouth from her and stands back upright to put his full weight into the last few deep thrusts up into her cunt. He grips Sarah’s hips and pushes three final determined snaps of his hips, growling into the night as he falls. His cock twitches harshly as he spurts thick ropes of come inside her. Copia groans, a deep gravely roar from his throat as the primal part of him fucks his seed into her to take root. He won’t rest until every last drop of his come has spilled into her.

Sarah’s head lolls side to side while her focus waxes and wanes. She passes out with her last memory of the night being a soft whimper and the feeling of being filled to the brim with Copia’s spend while he rolls his hips slow and deep, circling into her while he elongates and rides out his high. His satisfied, bloody and fanged grin imbeds itself into her mind as her eyes close.  

◊◊◊◊

Sarah wakes up in Copia’s bed several hours later. She’s not sure how she got there, the activities from earlier cloud her memory. She remembers vague snippets of him wrapping the robe back around her after he softened and pulled out. Copia carried her in his arms as he walked to his room for them to return to for the night. Sarah’s head rested on his shoulder as he whispered “You were fantastic, amore mio.” and “Tio amo.” in-between soft kisses to her forehead.

He lays her in bed and gently took off the robe to clean her bite and wipe between her legs. Copia found a pair of pajama pants and a comfy t-shirt to dress her in before he went to change into sleeping clothes for himself. There’s a faint taste of grape on her tongue and she turns her head as much as she can despite the pain to see a sunken in box of grape juice on the nightstand.

“Oh, you’re awake?” Copia announces softly as he walks out from the bathroom. “Did I disturb your slumber?” He apologizes as he slips back into bed.

“No, you’re fine.” She gravels, clearing her throat right after. “I must have slept enough for now.”

“How are you?” He asks, caressing her cheek and rubbing his thumb over her skin.

“Not too bad, all things considered. Maybe a bit sore in some places.” Sarah shifts in her spot on the bed. “I’ll have to see how it all shakes out tomorrow.”

Copia nods, pressing a light kiss to her hairline. “Ti amo.” he settles back down in bed and Sarah slowly pulls her body up to lay on his chest. “You are amazing for helping me tonight.”

“I love you, too, Copia. Do you feel less… bloodlusty?” She traces random patterns with her finger on his soft t-shirt.

“Yes. I feel lighter.” he sighs. “I feel like I was able to finally release.”

Sarah giggles. “You’re telling me.” Copia scoffs at her double entendre. He turns them so he can lay on Sarah’s chest and she holds him in her arms.

“Thank you.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to wherever his mouth can reach.  

She runs her fingers through his hair, humming. “Any time.”

Copia laughs. “You may change your tune if this happens frequently, amore mio. I’m not sure how long I’ll be satiated.” His leg moves to tangle in hers.

Sarah sighs wistfully. “The things I do for love!” They both laugh. “Just make sure to tell me next time you get these urges. We’re here to help each other, right?”

He goes silent for a minute and she nudges him. “Yes.” Copia circles the side of her hip softly with his fingertip. “What did you think of it all? What we planned versus the execution. You didn’t feel pushed or anything?” His soft touches to Sarah’s body feel like a sharp contrast to earlier.

“You play creepy vampire really well, Copia, that’s for sure.” She giggles. “I wouldn’t have changed a thing, though. You were able to work through something and from that, I felt wanted, adored by you.” Her hand moves to brush through his hair. “Before I passed out, feeling your cock twitching so intensely inside me as you let go, I knew it was a job well done.” Sarah hums out a laugh.

“Eh… Sorry about that. I tried to, ah, pre-game with blood but I may have been caught up in the moment.” Copia moves to hold himself up over Sarah. “Your blood was intoxicating.” He leans down to kiss her as an apology, closing his eyes to savor their lazy lip lock.

Sarah’s fingers brush through his hair as the other rises to touch over his slowly beating heart. He closes his eyes as he revels in her touch. “We should get some sleep.” She whispers.

Copia nods, lowering back down to her chest. Weeks of stiff shoulders melt away from him as they settle around each other in bed. He manages to sleep for a few more hours than his body typically gives him while Sarah holds him in her arms; the sound of her heart beating plasters a permanent smile on his face as he’s carried off into slumber.  

Thanks for reading!

[the12thnightproject]

This is my flash exchange gift for @venulus

Character: Mitsuhide (& most of the Azuchi warlords)

Prompt: Cold Hands/Warm Touches

Title: Snow Daze

Word Count: 700

Warnings: None

Even in winter, it rarely snows in Azuchi. Too warm. Too dry. So when an unseasonable cold spell married the gales of Lake Biwa and they birthed a knee-high accumulation of snow, everyone went a little crazy.

Is it a surprise that a suggestion of a snowball fight was met with cheers?

Is it a surprise that Hideyoshi forbade that dangerous activity?

Is it a surprise that his edict was ignored?

Finally, is it a surprise that this minor rebellion was instigated by Mitsuhide? True, nobody could prove he’d fired the first snowball, the one that hit Ranmaru. Had Mitsuhide realized that Ranmaru would immediately seek revenge? Even if he couldn’t predict what would happen next (and let’s be honest… he knew), he must have been aware that there would be snowballs lobbed in retaliation.

The next one hit Keiji.

He’d whooped in appreciation and pitched a Keiji-sized snowball at Masamune…

By the end of the first day of what would go down in history as the Great Fluff Campaign of ’83, everyone in Azuchi had been walloped at least once. Some more often than that. Some (Hideyoshi), after changing clothes three times in one afternoon, gave up on the idea of dryness entirely.

In this midst of these sneak attacks, Mitsuhide mysteriously avoided becoming a victim. It was almost unnatural, a maid remarked to Mai on Day Three of the siege, how he strode through the corridors, hair completely dry, crisp haori fluttering behind him, while everyone else (even Nobunaga) had telltale damp splotches on their clothes. “He must be a yokai! He shapeshifts out of the way as soon as he senses danger. I wonder if he shapeshifts other times, too?”

That… was something that Mai was also curious about, but it was further down on the list after, “can he really read minds?” “why does he tease me so much?” and “what would it be like to kiss-.” Never mind.

By the fifth day, when the storm showed no sign of stopping, she speculated that Mitsuhide was not only a yokai, but also one who could control the weather. What else would explain the fact that no matter how often the snow was trampled into the ground or hurled through the air, it always magically replenished itself overnight?

She might not have confronted him, had it not been for the fact that they lost Mitsunari in the snow for a day (Mitsunari was none the worse for his adventure, and hadn’t realized he was lost, but even Ieyasu had been worried). Determined to put a stop to the madness, she wrapped herself in her warmest cloak, marched over to Mitsuhide’s manor and pounded on the door.

Though she had practiced many speeches on her way over, Mai lost her train of thought when he opened the door, then stood smirking down at her. “Dear me, Mouse. To what do I owe the honor?”

She’d never seen him in his informal kimono before, and the sight of that deep v neck hovering open over his sculpted abs was … don’t go there. When she finally regained her voice, it was only to say, “Stop it.”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to be substantially less cryptic.” He stood aside as she stomped into his manor.

Mai waved her hand in the air. “The snow. Make it stop.”

“I’m flattered that you think it, but I cannot control the weather. Had I that ability, Nobunaga would have already unified Japan twice over.” He set a kettle on the irori. “Tea?”

She felt a bit silly as she watched him prepare tea like a perfectly normal human. Then he handed her a cup, his fingers touching hers. “Wait! Your hand is cold.” She sandwiched his fingers between hers. “You’ve been inside, just made tea, and your hands are cold.”

“My dear if you want to hold my hands, you only need to ask.” He picked up her other hand, and pressed both against his chest. “I am often cold. Would you be interested in warming me with your touch?”

She… was interested.

…

…

…

Later that afternoon, the snow turned to rain.

Everyone complained about the mud.

[formulapookie]

Late to the prompt party, but what if at that party Bezzetti are playing truth or dare? 👀

22. truth or dare/party games

They feel like they're fucking 15 all over again, the party they went to so boring they end up playing truth or dare.

god truth or dare, Bez can't even remember the last time he played, just that he managed to get a girl's number that night, but not what happened after.

"Ok so Cele truth or dare" it's the two of them plus a few guys friends with the younger boy, all sat in a bedroom on the second floor of the house.

"Truth, and please don't ask dumb shit like we are in highschool" "Have you ever blown a guy off?" "Wha- What kind of question is that?" "You chose truth, you say the truth, no matter the question" "fanculo, yeah I did"

Bez chokes on whatever drink he has in hand, almost killing himself.

"You killed him Cele good job" "Bez are you ok? Need some water?"

Bez is frozen, looking at him with wide eyes "You did what?" "What? Are you homophobic or some shit Bez?" "No no no no I just- I didn't think YOU were like - you know, you never told me" "I don't exactly go around talking about my one night stands like you do" "Mh yeah ok yeah, I'm fine I'm fine let's go on"

he refuses a napkin Cele's friend is passing him, chugging the rest of the drink like it's water, heat forming under the collar of his shirt and blood flowing everywhere but his brain.

Cele has sucked a guy off. Cele. He likes men. At least he likes them enough to get on his knees and - no his brain can't go there now, not when he's with all these people, not when he's had the biggest teenage crush on Cele since the boy was 18, not when he can see Cele looking at him to get what he's thinking.

"Ok Cele you can ask now, choose your victim" the other friend, the one called Gabriele or something like that, is the one Cele choses.

The guy chooses truth as well, he answers a question about whether or not he's fucked in public before, Bez doesn't even hear the answer, his mind thinking about Cele still.

He hears more words and focuses back again, in time to hear the dare Gabriele is telling Luca?Lucio? he doesn't remember.

"Make out with Celin here, how long has it been since you got laid Celin? three months?" "would you fuck off? it's not my turn keep that question for when I choose truth again. And seriously, are we 15? Make out?" "Come on Cele it's nothing serious, what is your boyfriend jeaous?"

Bez realizes the guy is pointing at him. Fuck fuck no he's probably blushing oh god. "Not my boyfriend stop that, you act like a child, grow up fuck's sake"

Bez notices that Cele's gaze lingers on him a bit longer than it should, a bit too much on his lips, a bit too much on his cheeks.

"Now, do the dare Luca come on" Cele rolls his eyes, turning towards Luca, apparently, waiting for him to move.

And Bez finds it very hard not to push the guy away and take his place. He stares as he closes the distance, taking Cele's chin between his fingers and pulling him in for the kiss, tongue slipping past Cele's lips almost immediately, as if it's normal for them to kiss Cele like that.

God he whishes it was normal for him too. But it isn't. Not in the slightest. He's forcing his brain to think of anything but the scene unfolding before his eyes, he doesn't trust his self control enough.

As the two break away Cele makes a strange face, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his friend laughing. "You taste like cigarettes fucking hell it's disgusting"

His friends laugh, Bez laughs along, trying to fit in, trying to hide his bulge with his sweater, hoping Cele didn't notice.

They spend a whole other half an hour playing, Bez getting dared to do a handstand after downing a shot of vodka and say whether or no has he ever paid for sex, Cele having to talk about his first time and the other two dared to do something Bez doesn't remember at all.

Cele's friends decide to go back home after a while, saying bye to the two, Bez practically going crazy because he still can't stop thinking about the fact Cele has done things with men before.

Cele gets up and exits the room, Bez waiting a full minute before following, hoping he will forget about this night.

As he gets out tho, he's pulled into the bathroom by someone.

As soon as he manages to realise who pulled him in he’s sweating again.

Cele has him pressed against a wall, he somehow already locked the door, he’s checking for eventual people in the corridor before turning back his gaze to a messy looking Bez.

“What’s this for Cele? I uhm I think we should go back home”

Cele is smiling, looking at him like a cat does with a mouse he’s got trapped.

He’s pressed on Bez with his whole body, one of his legs conveniently placed between Bez’s and he can feel how affected the older is by his actions.

“You know I wasn’t sure at first, when you pulled that face at the first question I thought you’d be angry at me, but instead you seem rather pleased by what I said no?”

He presses his leg more on Bez’s bulge, having him bite his lip and tilt his head back against the bathroom tiles.

“Did you think about it Marco? About me on my knees for a man? Or did you picture yourself instead of a random guy?”

He tries to keep it in, but a moan inevitably escapes his lips as he feels Cele's much too hot breath on his neck, making him shiver, goosebumps running all over his body.

"If you answer me I may think about showing you how I do it" Bez had never thought Cele had this side to him, a side so - tempting, flirty, confident, fucking hot.

"Myself" "Didn't hear you tesoro" "I pictured myself. You on your knees looking up at me, you looked perfect"

Cele smiles, moving a hand to cup Bez through his jeans, slowly lowering himself to his knees, watching his head race at 300 km/h as he does.

He unbuckles his pants, unzipping them at the speed of light, jeans pooling at his ankles, Cele unforgiving mouthing at Bez's dick through his boxers, drawing deep moans from him.

"Please"

Cele smiles, a wicked, evil smirk on his face as he tugs down Bez's boxers, stroking his dick a few times covering it in precum leaking from the tip before eventually starting to wrap his lips around the head, sucking lightly, hearing Bez moan.

It feels intoxicating to Cele, the way he can get Bez weak for him just with that little he's doing right now.

He eventually has pity for him, and starts bobbing his head, tongue playing with the tip every time he reaches it.

After what seems like an hour, but it's probably only minutes he can feel Bez's hips buckling irregularly, moans becoming deeper and the grip on his hair strengthening every passing second.

"Cele fuck you're amazing. Much better than I thought" Bez is breathing heavily, he just feels he's so close it hurts, he needs Cele to let him do it, he has to.

"I'm close I - fuck - please I need to"

Cele doesn't even have to wait for Bez to be able to finish his sentence because he knows, he doesn't stop his movements, increasing the pace instead, using his hand to cover what his mouth can't reach, feeling Be'z knees almost giving out as he's pressed against the wall.

"Cele" it's a moan suffocated from a hand he manages to put before his mouth, trying to preserve that little ounce of dignity he has with him still.

He comes hard down Cele's throat, the boy surprisingly not coughing as the hot liquid spills past his tongue.

He goes to sit on the edge of the bathtub, breathing hard, sweat running down his back, he can still feel the phantom of Cele's mouth on his dick.

"You - god - you sucked me off" "Well you didn't stop me" "No it's not - you sucked me off" "Have you never noticed the way I look at you? "Eh no? Like we all look at each other I didn't pay attention"

Cele smirks, he's obviously hard in his pants right now, and Bez wants to help so bad he forgets how to breathe.

He gets up from the bathtub he's on, sitting beside Cele on the ground, slowly unzipping his zip and unbuckling the belt, seeing Cele's dick twitch for attention.

"Marco you don't have to, I can do it myself" "But I want to" "Fuck...fine do it"

Bez spits in his hand, is quick to slip it past the waistband of Cele's boxers, curling it around his dick, drawing a moan from him as he begins stroking it at a regular pace, his thumb playing with the tip from time to time, to see how much Cele could last in a situation like that.

"Marco faster please" Cele thrusts up in Bez's fist, trying to get as much friction as possible.

He's got read cheeks and he's gripping at the floor tiles, trying to hold back from coming all over his friend's hand.

"Be good Cele come for me" it's the last straw, he can't restrain himself anymore, and thanks Bez for kissing him right as he comes, his moan getting swallowed in the kiss, that keep son getting more and more heated as Cele comes like that, covering Bez's fist with his cum, desperate and rapid breaths being the only sounds filling up the room.

"Fuck" "You good?" "Yeah yeah I yeah. Just need a moment to catch my breath"

They both stay like that for a few minutes, until it becomes uncomfortable, Bez washing off his hand and Cele trying his best to clean himself up and not smell like sex.

"Do you want to maybe continue this at mine?" Bez asks, gaze inquisitory, he has to be sure this is not going to be something they sweep under a rug and never talk about again.

"Yeah, couldn't fucking wait anymore I swear"

I uh yeah sorry forgot this one in the drafts as usual, managed to finish it now

ASK GAME

[sawyerconfort]

Prompt 47 with Marie Laveau👁️???

Hey! I'm back!

Let's begin with the prompts, shall we?

I love Marie, so I hope you like it, anon!

STAN ANGELA BASSETT!

Requests are open and you can see the prompt list here!

Enjoy!

(Notice how all my plot problems have to do with Hank… so much so that he's not even in the requests options ;))

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

47. "you're so jealous." | marie laveau x reader

You were on the fence about Marie and Hank's relationship. Of course, he was a witch hunter and you knew his missions also involved hunting down voodoo practitioners like her. But that wasn't all that made you hate the man.

It could have been all in your head, but the way he looked at her... And how she seemed to respond, always trying to seduce him like a vampire seduces a victim...

Not that you meant to sound possessive, but it was unavoidable.

When you saw him appear, and Marie whispered in your ear to wait in the hall, so as not to make a bad impression, your brain was already on alert. They spent hours locked in that room and the intrusive thoughts filled your mind with paranoia.

But you didn't have the heart to confront your girlfriend about it. Until then.

"We're going to need your hair cut soon, honey," she told you on one of the days when the salon didn't seem crowded. Marie always made time to be with you as soon as she saw you, you were kind of the exception to all the problems she had, and when no clients showed up, then that was even better. "Make sure you don't book somewhere else, or I'll get upset, hm?"

You smiled and were about to kiss her teasingly when the hunter's figure appeared through the window and sent your brain into predator mode. Noticing your hesitation, Marie looked out the window in the same direction and a crooked smile appeared on her lips.

"Don't worry, (Y\N), I'll send him away soon," she promised, pulling away from you and opening the door for him. Hank was frowning and you seemed to scowl back when you saw the two of them whisper.

And then, they went to Marie's room, hidden between four walls.

You resisted the urge to huff and tried to distract yourself with some of her magazines while you waited, but their secrets wouldn't leave your mind. Nor the jealousy.

***

They took longer than the last time to get back, and when Marie left, she had the same smirk on her face, looking at Hank. He glanced at your face and simply slammed the door, looking disappointed, fire shooting from his mouth.

"Would you like to help me close up the salon, (Y\N)?", Marie asked, as she was already fixing the windows. You got up in silence and avoided looking at her in every possible way, afraid that you might end up giving the wrong idea. When you were finally closed off again, you left for her quarters first, not expecting her to follow you.

The rest of the afternoon and early evening was silent, you didn't say anything about Hank or the customers like you usually did, and Marie was dying of curiosity and wanting to tease you about what was causing your bad mood.

She left the dishes with you and went to tidy up some things scattered around the room, still hoping that you would join her. Taking a relaxing shower, you went to the suite and sat on the bed, with your girlfriend looking you up and down.

"You're so jealous, it's cute", she whispered, holding you from behind, by the shoulders, and whispering in your ear. "Don't worry, (Y\N), he's not my type. He is an idiot. He's not even good for a sex toy."

You looked at her and shook your head. "I'm not jealous."

"Oh no?" Marie raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you avoiding me? Why are you answering me with half words? Are you sure it's not really jealousy?"

"No, Marie."

"Well, I say it is," she interrupted, and practically threw herself on top of you, kissing your lips with an inexplicable desire. She kept you pinned to the bed until you lost your breath, and when she pulled away, her smile was still mischievous. "It's jealousy, yes, look at the way you kissed me… It almost looked like you wanted to guarantee possession."

You rolled your eyes.

"Oh, don't roll your eyes at me, sweetie, you know the rules…", she bit her lip. "Don't worry, (Y\N), you're the only one I love and I'll always be yours, nobody else's. I promise."

You looked at her. "Stop, it's not jealousy."

"Awn, you have an adorable pout on your lips…", she said, taking your face by the chin and giving you a peck. "Stop being silly, (Y\N), want me to prove to you that you don't need to have that kind of reaction, hm?"

Before you could say anything, Marie kept kissing you, gaining your attention and your full desire, just as she had wanted before. You two engaged in an intense and revealing night of love, just like all the others.

At the very least, you were sure that voracity and that irresistible body someone like Hank would never be able to call his own.

[shadowqueenjude]

Azriel-Eris wedding as part of my Azriel-Beron fic

@hieragalbatorixdottir

Azriel had contemplated the repercussions of killing his husband-to-be for a good thirty seconds before he decided it wasn’t worth it.

Eris didn’t look smug or even remotely happy, and Azriel wasn’t sure why he was so convinced that he would be.

But in fact, Eris had pulled him over, hissing in his ear, “I don’t want to do this any more than you do. I am perfectly aware that you despise me, and for good reason; I murdered your brother. But understand that both that and this have one thing in common: I was ordered by my father. I have no choice. But once we’re married, we need not speak to each other again. I care not how many lovers you take, and you will not care how many I take. So long as you do not disrupt me, I do not give a shit what you do. Ok?”

Well thank god to that, at least. But it wasn’t his husband to be he was worried about.

It was his mate.

Looking smug as a cat overseeing his wedding to his son, Beron Vanserra had just trapped Azriel in a very new and creative way. He may well be stuck here forever.

Azriel told himself that he couldn’t find a way out of here within the next fifty years, he would end his own life.

Azriel had sat dully in a chair as people had washed him and dried him and prepared him to be married. He caught a couple of the servants wrinkling their noses as they washed his wings.

“Something wrong?” Azriel had snarled at them.

“Don’t you ever clean your wings?” a blue faerie chastised him. “And for the Mother’s sake and ours, please clean in between these folds of your wings too.”

Azriel’s wings had been adorned with lovely sparkling gold cloth that made his wings look as if they had feathers. Right; bat wings were considered quite ugly here.

After he had been dressed, Azriel cringed in horror at the mirror. Robbed of his usual simple black clothes, he had been thrown into a heavy red and gold ensemble that did not suit him in any way. Oh, he couldn’t wait for this nightmare to be over.

Beron tried to send him feelings down the bond. Azriel blocked it out. He was growing better at suppressing the feelings the bond caused. He wondered if he would one day be able to suppress the feelings completely.

The ceremony was rather simple; Autumn Court weddings were similar to the universal mating bond ceremony, only there was no kiss, no ribbon, no throwing one’s hands into the fire, and only three turns were taken around the pit of fire rather than the seven for a mating bond.

Azriel’s head was elsewhere as the priestess began reciting mantras. His broad, dark, calloused hand was at odds with the pale, smooth, slender hand he was holding. He didn’t let that fool him; Eris Vanserra was as vicious a killer as they come. Mere nepotism would not prompt Beron to appoint him general of the Autumn armies, and besides, Azriel had seen him run his sword through his brother. Hated him for it.

Azriel recited his practiced vow at the priestess’s prompting; his voice was dull and monotone, unable to muster up the energy to maintain the mask of sanity and joy. Eris’s speech was far more eloquent and his voice was smooth and vivacious, but Azriel observed his smile. His grin did not meet his eyes. His face was too frozen, as though he was determinedly keeping his own mask on. And for the first time, Azriel felt bad for Eris Vanserra.

Despite living most of his life without him, this little time Azriel had spent with Beron had damn near driven him insane, filled him with rage, and had prompted him to do terrible things. He had tortured Eris. He had kidnapped Nora Barranach, an innocent daughter of Spring and Day. Despite how much he was determined not to let Beron break him, he couldn’t help but wonder if he already had.

He couldn’t imagine having grown up with Beron his whole life.

Ultimately, was Eris Vanserra really any worse than him? Was Azriel thinking objectively or had his close connection to one of Eris’s victims blinded him to the truth: that they were both prisoners in a glorified cage forced to become monsters to survive?

Azriel held Eris’s hand as they walked around the fire. He leaned in, not at all noteworthy for the front they were putting up. And he whispered to the Autumn Court heir, “I’m sorry that Beron forced you to become a monster to survive.”

Eris’s lip twitched ever so slightly, the only sign that he had heard or understood anything Azriel said. “We may be monsters now,” Eris answered equally quietly, his lips barely moving. “But once we are free from our restraints, we shall endeavor to be better.”

Azriel suddenly realized that Beron had made a terrible mistake. Beron either did not suspect his own son of being a usurper, or he did not think him strong enough to attempt it.

Well, he was wrong on both accounts.

Because Eris was no longer alone.

He had Azriel.

[spacemilkies]

pairing: (past) jedi!reader x dagan gera

rqt: [] yes [x] no

wc: 1.6k+

rating: mature

summary: your favorite memories of him where when it was just you, him and the galaxy

a/n: mild spoilers!! okay so for right now, i’m playing around with this dynamic as i figure out more about his character. i’ll link all the drabbles. i’m just exploring this pairing, but planning something more linear set in the game timeline. feel free to send in more prompts for me to play with!

The haze of sleep over your mind shuddered and then shattered as your own moaning roused you awake.

Each sense came to you lazily: the whisper of the sheets against your cheek, the morning light dimly greeting your eyes as they opened, the sound of your tiny gasps, the warm waves radiating through you and the hairs that stood on end in their wake.

Disoriented, you inhaled sharply as Dagan hummed to acknowledge your wakefulness, his lips against you. Your hip bones sat on his palms he held you, propped up on his elbows with his face between your legs.

“Dagan-” you whined, voice cracking with sleep.

“Good morning, little one.”

More humming vibrations shot through your clit and up your spine, Dagan’s mumbling lips on your nerves stealing your words from your mouth.

Running his tongue up and down your slit, Dagan continued to tease you awake. Gasps increasing, you breathed heavily into your pillow as your hips began to roll in in his grip.

The stars had changed since you last woke, the constellations dotted in abstract patterns that spelled uncharted territory. It had been weeks of waking to the voided darkness, the absence of the sun doing nothing to shrink your blown pupils. Your breath hitching as Dagan took you into his mouth, sucking lightly before grazing it with his teeth.

Half-moons of your nails dug into your palms, sheets curled in your fingers. Your back arched, Dagan pushing your hips up further so he could thrust his tongue inside you, playing with your entrance. You couldn’t breath fast enough, your body trying to keep pace with Dagan’s wake-up call and losing.

Something coiled inside of your stomach and you curled your toes, his name on your lips as you started to lose your grip on the ledge of your orgasm.

Your mouth runs before you can stop it, tongue tied desperately to this man without control, “You know, they say each orgasm brings you closer to the dark side.” The word comes as a hiss, head rolling to the side to gain a better view of the figure between your legs. 

You catch his gaze, finding the molten heat in those silver eyes maddening. 

But then the rich waves of heat turned into an ache, your orgasm knotting inside you when it failed to escape. Dagan set your hips down gently and kissed his way up your stomach, crawling above you until he reached the nape of your neck.

Your head swam with the last trails of slumber, the confusion of an orgasm lost, and the scent of his skin.

“Indeed it is a dangerous practice. I’ve brought you to the precipice of the barrier between sides many times,” he said, nipping at your earlobe.

This early and he’s already made you eat your words. “Dagan,” you mumbled, “don’t tease.”

His teeth worry your jaw, stealing more gasps from your lips. “Is it not my responsibility to look after your welfare, little one? After all, Santari entrusted you to my care.”

“I know,” you groaned, his flexing in a fleeting attempt to capture more of his body’s attention. It gives the result you hope for, as the mage’s tempered patience falls victim again to his own arousal. 

His hardness nudges between your thighs as he mouths prayers of sanity against your throat. Just when you think he may need another push, he suddenly hoists one of your legs over his hips and slides home. 

You should be accustomed to the feeling of him inside you by now, he was your first to map out this space in your body, but it's always so overpowering. It feels too much to take yet never enough as you grind down for more. 

The huff of his amusement warms your cheek further than the blood already sizzling under the skin. 

It doesn’t take long when he has you worked up like this, perfectly played by his touch. He pistons in and out of you, hitting /that spot inside, reaching that depths that leave you unsatisfied when you try to chase on your own. 

The man has ruined you for anything or anyone else. 

Dagan doesn’t complain when you're biting down on his shoulder hard enough to break skin. Your orgasm leaves you shaking and trembling, waves of the remnants  lapping against your nerves, as you twitch and convulse repeatedly around his cock.

His pace stutters, he thrusts once, twice, and then he’s spilling inside you with a grunt. You feel his cock twitch as he rides out his own climax with a few final pumps of his hips, moaning into the crook of your shoulder.

Dagan rolls away first, slipping from you as he goes. But never far as he always brings you with him to settle at his side. 

For a moment there is only silence as you both come down and briefly you feel yourself slipping back under.

“Your Force is broadcasting your satisfaction loudly and clearly, little one," Dagan's melodic voice comes the moment he feels you stir again. 

Shuffling under the sheets, you nuzzle against the arc of muscle under his pec, lazily fighting off the dregs of sleep.

"Would you prefer it to promote the opposite?"

His light touch transitions into a hold, as those same digits curl at your waist to pull you closer until you're forced to kick a leg over his lithe waist and stretch impossibly closer.

"My pride would not, however, sense would plead for both of our collaborations in this effort to remain otherwise oblivious."

You hum against his pale skin, "I think we collaborate rather well."

His huff of laughter tousles your hair and you grin in response.

His warning was well placed, but not in the midst of immediate danger as you were both safely tucked away from prying eyes aboard his ship.

The kage managed to steal you away on another exploratory venture under the guise of your master who had called upon his expertise to guide your combat training while she juggled her responsibilities to the council.

What had started off as an innocent instructor/student dynamic had quickly unraveled into a jumbled mess of emotions and feelings that left you both off-kilter.

It was a dangerous position to be in, but so far luck had favored your fate, and now you were too addicted to it to heed the baser threats.

Dagan rolled with the scrutiny, but you were more sensitive to her attention. Overall, you maintained your resolve, but you found yourself pushing your training harder to make up for what you knew would be your downfall.

Dagan was a renowned Jedi Knight on his way towards rising to master while you were still trying to water your roots to make it through your trials. You both had room to fall, but arguably, you would have a harder time regaining your footing if the order even allowed you.

"Perhaps with our next discovery, we can escape attention while we cultivate a new planet for the order."

Dagan never stopped his pursuit to find a suitable environment free of the war that had ravaged his homelands. Backed by the order, he traversed the galaxies in search. For many of those months, Santari permitted you to join him.

You had shown promise under his tutelage, going as far as to nearly best another Jedi Knight in a spar that left Dagan beaming when he thought nobody was looking. What it ultimately did, however, was assure Santari that you were capable of surviving without being under her thumb.

And thus, her partnership with Dagan extended to you as you assumed the role as the liaison under her to assist in the order-funded exploration.

You had high hopes for this planet, and Dagan had confidently followed notes and hints of its location. All notions of it being a paradise manifested of his goals and a probable future, should it remain positive for you both.

“I hope for you as well,” you echoed genuinely. Without the support of the order, Dagan would have taken on the burden of saving his people regardless. He was a man of hard resilience and he would see his goals through the light.

In the silence that followed, you reached for your communication device and flickered with the controls until the star mapped galaxy snitched into the space above your nose. It had only been a few weeks, but you were becoming well acquainted with the scattered constellations. Some became your favorites and others markers for journeys beyond this one.

“You’re building quite the resume for ascension,” Dagan chuckled knowingly as he planted kisses across your back. “Star traveler, literature fanatic.” You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone. “Combat supreme.”

Having had enough, you twisted to counter but the sound turned into a squeal as Dagan smushed kisses along your face until you laughed from the sensation. Eventually, he released you, but not until your lips were equally plump and fussed.

“Supreme is a stretch.”

Dagan stole another kiss, “You’re right. But perhaps, if you stay with me a bit longer, there may be hope for you yet.”

As you rested against him, you realized that Dagan was not only an ally, but a partner in this journey. He had a fierce determination and a heart of gold, which made you grateful for his presence. Together, you would explore this planet and uncover its secrets, with the hope of bringing light to his people and paving the way for a brighter future.