#it won’t bring her pups back

[picklerat666]

Enot and Arti visit metropolis!

[lipglossanon]

Deed I Do

Real Dad Dogman!Leon S. Kennedy x Daughter Puppy!reader (one shot)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, incest, age gap (Leon is late 40’s and reader is late 20’s), hybrids, jealous Leon, short and sweet, dirty talk, grinding, unprotected sex, breeding kink, knotting, creampie

ETA: this was a commission but I’m a dumbass 😭

Kofi commish by @bumpkin-batch

Word count: 1999

title from Deed I Do by Ruth Etting

Leon stretches, bones and joints popping loudly. 

“Looking forward to that retirement, I’ll bet,” Jill jokes as she passes by him to sit at the desk behind Chris’. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes and stands up from his desk chair. 

He usually works away from Chris’ desk, out on patrol alongside his owner, but after turning 40, they kept him pushing paper and training new pups. This new batch coming in has him excited, although he’d never admit it. It’s the very first litter he sired back when he was in the breeding program decades ago.

“Aww, aren’t they cute!” Rebecca coos as Chris brings in the new lineup of would-be police dogs.

Leon would roll his eyes, but he’s too busy cataloging each of the new pups. There are seven in all—five boys and two girls. Aside from the girl on the end, they’re all stoic and calm. She, on the other hand, keeps letting her emotions get the best of her—tail wagging happily before remembering to stay still. 

Leon has a really good feeling she won’t be cut out for police work. It sends a little pang of worry through his chest, but he squashes it down in favor of watching them. As they’re put through their paces, Leon keeps an eye out on the girl. Just to make sure she does what she’s told. 

Weeks fly by in this new routine. A few of the recruits are turning out not to be fit for police work. The girl is definitely too friendly and useless at trying to apprehend someone breaking the law. Another pup, a boy, is too hyper. He’s already broken through three harnesses and accidentally bit an officer. 

But still, five out of seven new police dogs isn’t anything to sneeze at; Leon’s proud the majority have what it takes, like himself. The boy’s already been adopted by Barry. His two daughters have been begging for a hybrid to play with after school, and with his energy, he’ll be a perfect fit. The girl, on the other hand, is much too sweet and soft. Leon’s been keeping an ear out for what they’re going to do with her. 

He’s taken a liking to the pup; she’s earnest and kind, something he doesn’t get to see every day. She’s started to hang around Chris’ desk with him when the recruits have free time. It could explain why Chris suddenly springs it on him that he’s taking her home at the end of the week. 

“She’s just not going to fit in here,” the dark haired man gestures to the empty office, “and I don’t want her going to a shelter to sit for god knows how long. You two get along, and this way you won’t be home alone when you retire next month.”

Leon scoffs, but secretly he’s extremely pleased about the new situation. His own little girl is getting to stay with him. He can teach her all the things she wouldn’t learn here, especially with him being gone. And she’s so sweet. He’s happy he can spend this time with her and not have to worry about the job. 

Friday rolls around, and you’re a ball of joy. Leon even finds himself smiling at your excited chattering while he leads you out to Chris’ vehicle. You grow quiet on the drive to your new home, but your tail wagging assures Leon that you’re happy. Chris helps you get settled into your new room, right next to Leon, and gives you a quick tour of the house as the dogman follows behind.

There are a few bumps in dealing with a new pup in his space, but Leon wouldn’t change it for anything. He’s looking forward to retirement just that much more. In the meantime, he shows you the ropes. Cuddling, playing, annoying Chris—you guys do it all together. You groom each other too, something Leon finds himself seeking out more and more. Lately, you’ve been smelling downright edible. 

He’s had to excuse himself from your cuddling before he gets too hard to hide it. You’ve also been extra clingy lately, practically gluing yourself to him at every chance you get. Leon calls it quits midweek, and as soon as Chris opens the front door, you’re pressed all along Leon’s side with a wide smile. 

“Congratulations!” You kiss his cheek, and he gets a whiff of something sweet and tart, making his mouth water. 

You usher him into the kitchen and throw out your hands, “Ta-da! I made your favorite!”

Grinning, he ruffles your ears, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip, ducking your head out of shyness, “Thanks, dad. I hope you like it.”

Picking up the fork, Leon takes a bite of the lemon cake. Sweet.. tangy.. soft.. moist. The errant thought that this is what your cunt might be like makes his eyes flutter closed with a groan. 

“It’s good?” Your eyes peer at him, ears perking up. 

“Delicious,” he pats your head, and your tail whips back and forth.

“Chris, you have to try some!” You call out, heading back into the living room. 

Leon takes a few more bites, mouth salivating at the taste. He needs to get his shit together. You bring Chris into the kitchen with you, and Leon watches him shower you with praise over the dessert. You become more and more flustered, and an ugly feeling of jealousy rears its head in his chest. 

“You okay?” 

With a start, Leon blinks, realizing a low growl has been building up in his chest. 

“Yeah, sorry, just thinking about something,” he clears his throat. “Well, I’m beat, so I’m going to take a shower and head to bed.”

“Oh, okay,” your ears droop, and it makes his heart hurt. 

“Did you need me?”

You pick at your nails, “Could we watch a movie together? I’m feeling kinda under the weather.”

Warm satisfaction suffuses him over your asking him and not Chris, “Sure, just meet me in my room once I finish showering.”

“Okay!” You smile brightly and hurry off to your room.

“I’m glad you guys are getting along,” Chris chuckles before stuffing another bite of cake into his mouth. 

“Don’t eat all of it,” Leon points to the dessert, “that’s technically for me.”

“It’s one slice,” Chris rolls his eyes. 

Leon’s nose twitches, and he waves his owner off, heading to the bathroom. After showering, Leon wraps his lower waist with a towel before realizing he didn’t bring a change of clothes. It’s a habit he’ll have to learn to break since you’ve moved in. Sighing to himself, he makes his way to his room, hoping you haven’t come in just yet. 

His hopes are dashed when he sees your wide-eyed look as you lay in bed. His sheets are gonna smell like you, and it makes his cock twitch. Pulling in a deep breath to calm himself, he nearly chokes as your sweet scent floods his nose. He knows he’s looking at you a little too heatedly.

“Sorry, I’ll get dressed.” He finally breaks eye contact and heads to his dresser. 

He throws on an old tee and slips on a pair of sweats under the towel before tossing it in the hamper. You scooch over to make room for him, and as soon as he’s lying back, you’re practically clambering on top of him. You throw one thigh over his legs, the heat of your cunt a hot brand against his leg. Burying your face against his chest, you nuzzle and scent your way up to his neck. 

“Dad,” you whine, “I feel sick.”

“Sick how?” He murmurs, trying to clear the fog in his brain as you subtly grind against him. “Have you been taking your meds?”

You shake your head no, pressing your nose against the pulse in his neck. 

“I ran out. Chris is s’posed to pick them up tomorrow,” you mumble, lips brushing against his skin and raising the hair on his neck. 

“Oh, baby,” he croons, cock chubbing in his sweats. “It’s heat sickness, my sweet pup.”

No wonder you’ve smelled so good lately. He grips your hips and helps you straddle his lap. 

“Take these off,” he snaps the band of your shorts, “gonna make my sweet girl feel better.”

Whimpering, you quickly slip off all your clothes until you’re sitting completely naked on his thighs. He pushes his sweats down just enough to free his hardening cock. 

Your tail thumps against his legs. “Smell so good, dad.”

“So do you, baby,” he helps you sit your chubby pussy on his cock, pressing the thick length against his abs. “Just rub against me.”

Nodding your head, you brace your hands on his forearms as they grip your hips. Whining, your pussy lips part around his cock, and you slowly rut against him, dragging your slick all along his fat dick. 

“That’s it, doing so good giving daddy a pussy job,” he groans, jerking you back and forth as you frot against him. 

Whining, you hump down against his cock, precum and slick smearing across your cunt until there’s a sticky mess between you both. Leon grunts, feeling his knot starting to form at the base of his dick. 

“Fuck, gonna make daddy pop his knot, baby,” he drops his head back as you moan loudly. 

“Want it, please dad, my pussy feels so empty,” you pull away, shiny strings of slick clinging to his cock. 

“Shh, shh,” he runs his palms up your thighs before bringing one hand back down to grip his cock. “I’ll give it to you, but you gotta be quiet for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, biting your lip when Leon slaps his cock against your pudgy clit. 

He uses his thumb to press the head down to guide it into your drooling hole. You both pant and sigh as you slowly sink your cunt down until you're flush with your dad’s hips. Leon’s eyes nearly cross from how tight you are, walls soft and wet as they squeeze his cock.

“So good, fuck, gonna knot you, sweetheart, knot this sweet little pussy,” he growls out, pulling out to shove you down onto the mattress. 

He manhandles you onto your stomach and yanks your hips up before fucking his cock back into you, bottoming out in your squelching heat. He sees you bite down on the pillow to muffle the cry that slips from your mouth. Your pussy flutters and grips his cock tightly, sucking him in until the tip kisses your cervix. Growling low, he roughly pumps his hips, slipping his cock in and out of your perfect pussy. 

“You’re perfect, fucking meant for me,” he leans forward to bite and kiss your neck, “fat pussy a perfect fit for my cock.”

“Dad, dad, feels so good,” you whimper brokenly, “want your knot, want your pups, daddy.”  

“Fuck,” he snarls against your ear, cock pistoning deeper into your greedy hole. “Cum for me, pup, and I’ll knot your wet pussy.”

He reaches underneath you to circle and pinch your swollen clit. You thrash and buck against him, mewling and gasping as he works you closer to your orgasm. His knot catches at your hole, and as soon as your back arches, your pussy cumming around his cock, he shoves his knot past your clenching hole and locks you together. 

“Dad!” You cry out, voice muffled from where you’re pressed into the sheets.

“Ohhh,” he lazily humps your ass, rutting his cock and knot deeper into your cunt, “so good, baby. You did so well for daddy.”

You hum happily, and he nuzzles against your neck, laying you both on your sides so you can rest comfortably.

“I’ll fill you up again later to keep you from getting sick,” he murmurs in your ear and groans when your pussy milks and pulses around his cock. 

“Thanks, dad.”

He smiles and presses a kiss on your hair. He really does have a sweet pup.

[pinksilkribbons]

YANDERE! WEREWOLF: REESE

CW/TW: f!reader, werewolves (duh), some minor violence, breaking and entering, kidnapping, (slight) fear kink, breeding/impreg kink, scent kink, one dub-con ass slap, slight nsfw, not full smut, reese is just a pervert idk yall

this isn’t proof read and is kinda rushed don’t get on my ass if it sucks yall 😭 but yes this blog IS monster fucker friendly :)

Yandere!Werewolf whose pack stays deep in the woods.

Yandere!Werewolf who is expected to be the next leader of the pack once he finds a suitable mate.

Yandere!Werewolf who constantly gets in trouble with the elders.

“Reese you know better than to wander off! What if an outsider spotted you, huh?”

“It’s about time you take on a mate, don’t you think? You know you can’t take the throne until you find someone!”

Yandere!Werewolf who thinks all the pack elders are dramatic. He’s an alpha for fucks sake! The strongest there is. Only second to the pack leader himself.

So what if he wants to go beyond the woods sometimes? He can do as he pleases! As for a mate..he’ll get one when he sees fit!

Yandere!Werewolf who went out one night while everyone else was asleep. He was bored and restless.

Just as he was heading near the end of the woods he finds a small cottage that he knows hasn’t always been there.

It was real small, though. Way too small for any werewolf.

‘It can’t be…’

One peek won’t hurt right? He’s just gotta check and make sure it isn’t another werewolf. Gotta protect the pack after all!

With a cautious hand he slowly creaks open the bedroom window. Unfortunately, his long claws created a horrible screeching noise against the glass, definitely alerting the human- er, lone werewolf!

Alerting the lone werewolf of his presence.

Yandere!Werewolf who rushes inside in a panic. If he’s already given himself away it’s better to just hurry up and confirm his curiosity. Then, he’s going back home!

A part of him feels nervous. If it is a lone werewolf he shouldn’t have any trouble fighting them off. A human, though?

He’s heard plenty of horror stories. Especially of the humans who they call hunters. That entire species is the only reason why his pack must conceal their existence in the first place.

He hated to admit it, but the idea of encountering a hunter made his stomach churn.

But, even harder to admit, it made another part of him feel warm. The kind of warmness that made his knot flare up and sent him into an early rut.

“Hello? …Is anyone there?”

Reese felt his ear twitch at the soft, feminine voice. Her voice was smooth and wrapped around his body like a blanket.

He steps towards the voice.

“Please! Who’s there? Show yourself!”

The voice becomes more rushed. More panicked. More scared. Fuck, human girls sure are cute.

“Last chance! Or i’ll shoot you! I swear to god!!”

He’s getting closer. She’s right behind this door, in the bathroom. His hand snaps towards the knob, twisting it with a rush and-

BANG!

A sharp pain crushes his body, sending his body into an instant rage. A smoking hole leads straight through the door and right to his shoulder. Reese turns off his brain for a moment and lets his alpha take control instead.

He rips open the door with an animalistic growl, bits of wood flying everywhere. His eyes dart left and right before finally spotting the human, crouched down and shaking in fear.

She sports a long white dress that reaches her ankles. One that reminds him of maternity wear the women in his pack use during mating season.

His inner alpha chants at him to move.

To pounce at her and claim her for himself. Give her his seed, make her his mate, and give her plenty of pups that they could care for together.

The human smells real nice anyway. Definitely fertile. He doesn’t have a mate yet so…would it be so wrong?

Loud sobs bring him back to his senses. “Please mister, I ain’t do nothing to you!” She sinks further into herself if even possible.

The woman holds a small pistol close to her chest. He’s only encountered human weapons a few times and he’s not familiar with that one. That’s definitely what caused the damage to his shoulder though.

Reese is unsure about what to do. This whole thing went way different than he expected. The original plan was to just sneak inside, look at the human for a bit, then leave.

Now he has a hard dick and a bleeding shoulder. His pack would be in his ass if he came back injured with no head to show for it. Thats like admitting he was defeated by someone else.

Definitely not an option. Maybe he should kill her then?

Take her back home and give her your knot. The elders keep bothering you about finding a mate anyway. Who better to keep the pack safe from humans than a human herself?

“Kill two birds with one stone, right?” Mating the human seemed like the best way to get out of this with no consequences. The entire pack would be real jealous to find out he’s mated a hunter. Plus, she could provide extra protecting with her human weapon.

Reese approached the girl and crouched down to her height. His body easily towered over her, something his alpha really liked.

She’s real small. Smells so fertile. Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? Let’s take her home.

He smiled mischievously, sharp teeth sending a chill down your spine. He’s made his decision. “Alright, mate. You can quit crying. I won’t kill ya.”

You sniffled while slowly resting down the pistol. You’re out of bullets and this ..thing clearly isn’t any match for you. A part of you wonders if this is the werewolves your father constantly warned you about.

Werewolves ain’t real though. You a lot of things, but you ain’t dumb. Same way you ain’t dumb enough to believe this intruder isn’t here to kill you. He looked like he was gonna rip your head off just seconds ago.

“Just make it quick please,” You beg, fighting off more tears. Your daddy was right when he said nothing good comes out of living in these woods.

“You got it, baby! I’ll get us back home in no time.”

Reese grabs your frail body with ease, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. He chuckles lowly at the jiggle of skin against his hands.

All the while you’re thrashing against him and begging him to let you go. It actually surprised him to see you still resisting. Youre the one who told him to hurry up and get home!

You sure are confusing. No matter though. He’ll understand humans the longer he’s with you.

Cause one things for sure: you won’t be leaving anytime soon.

Yandere!Werewolf who wakes up the whole pack to alert them of his find. They all snarl angrily at the “hunter”, baring their claws aggressively.

Yandere!Werewolf who has to yell at everyone to back off. When he demands respect for his mate it goes silent. Everyone begins whispering, clearly surprised at his reveal.

Yandere!Werewolf that feels pride swell in his heart as each member bows down in respect. His mate looks shocked more than anything.

Yandere!Werewolf who laughs when you begin freaking out, not wrapping your mind behind the existence of werewolves.

“You’re a hunter, baby. I’m sure you know at least a little about our kind.”

Yandere!Werewolf who laughs even harder when you insist you aren’t a hunter. Only kind of humans that can hurt werewolves are hunters. You’re just a little scared right now!

Now quit lying to him before he gets mad.

Yandere!Werewolf who gets the approval of the current leader without even trying. It’s official now.

You will bear his pups, lead the pack by his side, and stay with him until he ceases to exist. How romantic.

“Hey. I forgot to ask. What’s your name, mate?”

Well, as romantic as Reese can get, anyway.

[candyswirls]

Space Marine Cuddle Pile PT3

Went for some more fluffy ones. I had a lot of ideas but didn’t want the second part to be overwhelming. Part 4.

@wolf-feathers12

Imagine:

Guards being confused as space marines come pick them up and bring them to a pile of other space marines. Simply because they are squishy and fragile and the marines are so relieved that they survived. They care about them and want them safe with them in the cuddle pile.

A lone marine refusing to let go of the Cadians because he cares for them and they almost died and he wants to cuddle them and have them be safe and he won’t see his brothers for a bit.

New inquisitors wondering why after a mission the Greyknights are snuggling each other. Don’t get too close. If they grow fond of you, you will never miss out on a cuddle pile.

Cuddle piles are near sacred with Salamanders. Nestling into each other. Being warm and being held. Holding someone else. It’s necessary bonding time. You do the same with your family when you visit them. If you’re ever with another legion they will find themselves surrounded by warm salamanders.

Space Wolves are naturally cuddly. Especially when drunk. Many adepts are warned when it’s drinking time. You’ll find a space wolf nuzzling you. There’s such thing as cuddle dens. When you’ve drank your fill and it’s time to turn in for the night you go to the cuddle den and flop onto the pile. You’ll be pulled in and snuggled by other drunk space wolves before you fall asleep or pass out like the others

Wolf priests introduce new neophytes to cuddle piles, curling around them protectively like a mother wolf and her pups. Do not interrupt this. Wolf priests will get deep into the role and will bite if you get near the pups.

Leman Russ lays down in the middle of the hall. His marines eye him, waiting for the signal. Sometimes he’ll raise out his arms. An invitation for them all to pile on top of him. But not today. Sometimes he wants comfort. He will take his mother wolf pelt and lay it over him. Then motions for his warriors to pile on. They do so and he pretends he’s back in the den with his brothers. Pressed up against his mother. He holds his warriors. He’ll be there all night. Soon you’ll hear snoring.

After a battle, Sanguinius will cuddle his sons. Telling them how proud he is of them. That they were noble and brought honor to the legion. He’ll position himself so they’re surround him and he can cover them with his wings.

Titus joining his first cuddle pile since rejoining the ultramarines. A huge weight off his shoulders as he’s back with his brothers. One with an arm around him, another brother wrapped in his own arms. All is well. All is well.

Tons of marines piled on top of a dreadnought. Determined to show him they can cuddle him. There’s so many of them that the warmth actually reaches through the sarcophagus. Plus their entombed brother is big enough he can hold lots of them.

Firstborns refusing to acknowledge they prefer to cuddle with Primaris marines because they’re bigger and it reminds them of when they were a neophyte and the apothecaries would hold them.

Speaking of apothecaries, they have it best. They get to hold and comfort the neophytes as they go through the process of becoming a marine. Cuddle wounded marines till they’re better. It’s mutually agreed that apothecaries give the best hugs.

Just after the siege of 63-19 and the loss of Sejanus, Horus Lupercal is on the ground, nestled with the three remaining mournival members. It’s just them and it’s silent as the Warmaster grieves. They hold their father this time. A new member will soon be called but for now, Horus needs this.

Iron hands cuddle piles include many soft blankets for utmost comfort. They often fall asleep whilst in each other’s embrace. It’s very important for the well being of a space marine and to bond within the ranks.

(Honestly it’s really fun writing these because I fully believe that there needs to be more normalization with platonic affection. Plus space marines are baby and baby needs to be held)

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter One - The Perfect Gift

Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N (Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.

~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.

"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."

"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."

"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."

"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."

Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"

Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"

"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."

"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."

Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."

"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."

"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."

You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.

It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.

“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”

You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”

“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”

You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”

“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”

Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.

As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.

The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.

You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.

Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.

There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”

You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.

“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”

Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.

You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.

You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”

So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.

“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”

He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.

Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”

You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.

And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.

The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.

You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?

Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”

“You drugged me,” you accuse.

“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”

“I like my apartment,” you protest.

“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.

You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.

He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”

They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”

“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”

“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.

“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”

“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”

“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.

“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.

You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”

“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”

The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”

“Terrified,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”

You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.

“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.

Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.

He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”

“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.

“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”

“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”

He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”

You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.

As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.

He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.

Or worse, to play with.

You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.

Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”

So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.

“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”

“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”

“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”

“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”

I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

[suzukiblu]

First 1k of the 5k I promised y'all as a thank-you for helping me out with that car insurance bill behind the cut; “YJ packs up and gets pupped”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He’d cry a lot harder, probably, but–no, he wouldn’t mind. Like . . . literally zero percent would he mind . . . mind anyone doing that for him. Even if Red Tornado only smells like metal and wires and machinery and, like, a little bit of clumsy scenting from Traya and maybe an even littler, subtle bit of it from, like–Kathy . . . 

Kon feels like an asshole for thinking it, but a dude who is a literal machine and doesn’t even have a designation or pheromones having, like–having even estranged packmates when he doesn’t even . . . when he’s never actually . . . 

Even in Hawaii, he didn’t have a pack. Like–Rex and Roxy had their family pack, and Tana had her family pack, and Dubbilex is a null and totally uninterested in packing up with anybody, which sometimes some shitty part of Kon’s wondered if that’s, like–if that’s why Cadmus picked Dubbilex to be his stupid fake “chaperone” or . . . whatever. Because Dubbilex–Dubbilex wouldn’t ever get too–too– 

Kon’s pretty fucking positive that Dubbilex doesn’t really think of him the way he’s sometimes wished the guy would either. And Roxy–Roxy’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a sibling unless he counts Match, who literally thinks he’s just a shitty prototype and nothing else, but she wasn’t–she wasn’t his pack sibling or anything like that. And even if she had been, he doesn’t even know where she is now; hasn’t even seen her in months. More months than he even actually remembers it being, since he spent a real significant portion of that time, like–literally out of his mind on gross fucked-up amnesia drugs that made him literally feral, so . . . 

And it’s not like it’s not, like–public, that he’s back and currently working for Cadmus and rolling with Young Justice and all that. If Roxy or Tana or anybody wanted to find him . . . they could find him, if they wanted to. 

But they haven’t. 

He misses Hawaii so bad right now. Like . . . all the time, really. But especially right now. 

“Then I will do it,” Red Tornado says. It sounds the same exact way he just said it, like he’s just replaying a recording or something. Like he saved a copy of it the first time, because he was already planning to say it again. 

Kon is definitely gonna be mortified about this later, he thinks as he scrubs the sleeve of his jacket across his wet eyes. 

“Okay,” he manages. “Uh–okay. Uh. Thanks.” 

He–he could use more stuff to nest with, definitely, and if Red Tornado brings it he won’t have to leave his nest for it, and like . . . the food and drinks or whatever wouldn’t hurt either, obviously. He didn’t think to get anything like that ready while he was distracted looking for stuff with everybody’s scents to nest with and when the Super-Cycle offered him a nesting pit to just–when the Super-Cycle made him a nesting pit in itself to use–well, like. Then he hadn’t really cared, after that. Like . . . that had not been a thing he was worried about, after that. So . . . so if Red Tornado doesn’t mind getting him some of that stuff before he goes . . . wherever he goes to, like, hang out when he’s on his own, well . . . like, that’d be . . . that’d be . . . 

Nice, Kon admits to himself, though that’s embarrassing to think even when he’s already all overemotional and weird anyway. 

But–but it would be. Nobody’s . . . nobody’s gonna come “attend” him, or even just . . . just be here with him, so . . . so it’d be nice, if Red Tornado would . . . would get him a couple things, and he could . . . could pretend like . . . like somebody–like he’d had somebody who– 

Red Tornado he guesses does count as somebody who’d, like, “attend” him a little, but like . . . not like a packmate would. Like . . . in a pack, somebody does . . . “attend” people who’re presenting in it. Somebody–stays, at least. 

Kon guesses the Super-Cycle’s technically volunteered to do that, so like . . . so that’s already better than he thought he was gonna get. And he did find everybody’s scents–or at least, almos everybody’s scents and Robin’s blockers–so if Red Tornado gets him more stuff to nest with too . . . 

That’s–definitely better than he thought he was gonna get, yeah. 

“Is there anyone I will need to make sure the security measure will allow entry to the base?” Red Tornado asks, and Kon–startles, a little. 

“Uh–what?” he asks stupidly, not understanding what he means. What’s . . . ? 

Red Tornado tilts his head, very slightly. 

“To attend to you,” he says. “Did you invite anyone without prior security clearance, or are they a member of the team?” 

“I–they’ve got packs,” Kon says reflexively, too confused to bite it back. But . . . “Like . . . they’ve all got–packs. And, like–school and shit, anyway. I wouldn’t . . . I wouldn’t bug ‘em with this.” 

He doesn’t even know if . . . like, why even would they come, if he actually . . . 

Red Tornado’s expression doesn’t change, obviously. Like, his expression is literally physically incapable of changing. He doesn’t even adjust the tilt of his head or shift his center of balance or–anything at all, really. Doesn’t even make that electric humming fridge-compressor sound again. 

Kon suddenly feels like something about him just changed, though. 

“I see,” Red Tornado says. “Who will I need to provide security clearance for, then?” 

“Um,” Kon says, and tries not to cringe. “You–don’t. It’s–fine. Like, I don’t–it’s fine. I didn’t, like . . . call anybody, or anything. I’m just gonna, you know–crash for a day or two, and then like, I’ll put everything away and run the scent-scrubbers and everything. That’s, like–that’s all. I don’t need, like . . . ‘attended’, or whatever. Like–I’m not gonna bother anybody with that.” 

Red Tornado’s just looking at him with the exact same expression, but it still feels like something’s changed.

[princessbrunette]

after a long and traumatic week, seeing and experiencing dreadful things — puppy!reader gets into the habit of needing john b to rock her to sleep. every night.

if he doesn’t, there’s tears — and bless your heart he understands. before these few weeks, he’d managed to protect you from it all. being shot at, stumbling on skeletons and dead bodies all for the sake of finding the next clue for the treasure that seemed so far away. at the time, and for your safety he had to bring you along — but as he watches your lip curl over, clinging to his chest back at the chateau — he regrets not finding a way around it.

“well sleep is important, bubba. you need rest.” he stresses, trying to ease you into relaxing as you argue against him. “c’mon. i know you’re tired. i can tell.”

“but i know i’m going to have a nightmare again! ugh.” in a moment of stress, you softly bury yourself into his arm, sinking teeth gently into his tanned bicep.

“noooo you won’t.” he croons in that comforting deep voice of his, slotting his hand between your face and his arm so that he can stroke your cheek with his thumb until you ease up on your bite. you huff, flopping back into his arms dramatically like you’d died mid conversation and he smiles, softly manhandling you until you’re lying directly on his chest. “i’ll tell you why you’re not gonna have any nightmares, pup. it’s because i’m gonna be riiight here. all night. you’re gonna get all hot and bothered and wish that you had your own bed, seriously.” he keeps his tone lighthearted as you get comfortable, but his face falls when he hears you sniffle. “hey, i know.” he acknowledges solemnly, kissing the top of your head.

“jus’ nervous.” you slur, muffled into the fabric of his shirt and he nods in understanding. without thinking much of it, john b starts to sway your body left to right, gently rocking you to attempt to halt your tears. after a moment, you seem to quieten down. “keep doing that.” you rasp after a few minutes, barely awake.

“mhm.” he hums, trying not to disturb you as much as possible with his response, continuing to rock you in his arms. for the first time in a while, you sleep soundly — with no bad dreams.

because of the success in john b’s new technique — you started to require it every night. as soon as you feel the tiredness creep up on you, you’re crawling into his lap, making a rocking motion with your body to communicate what you want. doing this every night might become tiresome to some, but your boyfriend was filled with guilt — accidentally putting you in such dangerous scenarios lately that your body was now riddled with anxiety, needing the gentle motion in order to have a stress free sleep. whatever he could do to help you, to rid himself of the guilt — he would comply.

occasionally, you had required this treatment during a nap in the middle of the day too — straddling him on the couch with the shy request.

“get on in here.” he opens his arms to wrap around you, letting you burrow down into him. as soon as he begins to rock you side to side, your brain starts to power down, even able to partially ignore jj when he loudly strolls in, aware of your habits.

“damn, it’s rockin’ time already? a little early.” the blonde converses casually making the brunette frown and wave one arm at him.

“shh, but yes. yes it is.”

unable to control his behaviour, maybank begins to dance, moonwalking across the wooden panels of the chateau floor. “i wanna rock with you, alllll night.” he sings, making you groggily lift your head to blink an eye at him.

“are you done?” john b deadpans.

“oh hey there sleepy-pooch. my bad, go ‘head and take that nap.” jj busies himself with a beer bottle, grabbing it to settle down with on the couch, eyes latching onto the tv.

you’re fast asleep in a matter of minutes, the gentle humming of the tv mixing with the sounds of your soft snores. “damn, she’s out like that already? guess they found the cure to insomnia. hey, can i try next?” jj teases, lifting the bottle to his lips making the brunette shake his head, not even bothering to glance away from the tv.

“would you shut-up? maybe?” he mumbles in careless retaliation, just happy his sweet pup was getting the rest she deserves.

[writingsofwesteros]

REQUEST: Loved it! How about an Alicent and Daemon smut but more on humiliation and Alicent’s first experience with pleasure. Thanks!

NSFW

Hope you like it, its been in my drafts (unsure if i posted it or not)

“It is no wonder you are so uptight..” The rogue Prince whispered into the darkness; the soft lights of the candles flickering. The shaking body sat on top of him; sat on top of his fat, throbbing cock that was so much bigger than the King who just so happened to be her husband. Alicent’s shaking hands rested on his broad, muscled chest. Gods, she had once dreamt about such things and from the look on the rogue Prince’s face - he knew that too. “Even with the pups you have given him, you are still so tight.” Daemon grunted and the pois woman on top of him blushed in shame. A shade he enjoyed seeing on her a little too much for her sake, he thought.

Oh, he was going to have so much fun. A rise of his hips had Alicent whining some more; her sweet, creamy pussy clamping down. She had already squirted around his cock when he bottomed and he had taunted her for it. “Oh, if only your father could see you now.” Alicent gasped; her mind flashing with such thoughts. Daemon groaned; head falling back on the pillows as his bright locks became like a halo around his head now. His hand came down on her arse; the smack echoing in his royal chambers as she slowly resumed her bouncing. Good, he thought. She should work for this pleasure. He wondered if he could make her so addicted to him that she would come back begging for more.

His fat cock throbbed against her silky walls at the mere thought. Those sweet looking breasts of hers bounced in his face. “Gods, you are no better than those whores.” Daemon taunted her some more as the obscene, wet noises from her tight pussy echoed. The shame flooded Alicent with ease as she fought to remember how she came to be in such a position. Both of his hands were soon on her arse, bringing her impossibly closer whilst still making the pretty, little Queen do all the work. A ring of cream formed around his thick length as he watched the erotic sight in front of him. Alicent’s face prettily screwed up in pleasure as her hands reached for the wooden headboard behind Daemon.

He took full advantage of her soft, sweet breasts pushing in his face. Shivers ran down her spine as he sucked on her pink nipples; his tongue lapping as his free hand groped at her bouncing arse. Alicent’s brown, doe eyes glazed over as she began to drool. Her mind softened with ease as his fat, mushroom head bullied the sweet soft spot that only this morning she didn't know existed. “I wonder if the next welp you have will be mine.” Daemon purred; eyes locking on hers as his hand slowly moved up her body. Alicent could only shake. His words and thrusts that only quickened were easily pushing her towards the edge. “Poor thing…” He hummed and before she knew it; two of his thicker fingers were in her hot mouth.

He pushed down on her tongue as she drooled. It was not long before she was gagging around him. “I imagine my brother has never heard such sounds.” Alicent whimpered; moaning around his fingers as she locked eyes with him once more. A sharp gasp escaped her when his hand came down on her sweet, sensitive clit. “No..please ... .I” Alicent whined around him as Daemon only continued. His thrusts quickened now as he took complete control. His tapping of her clit became harsher before he captured her sweet clit between two knuckles. His nails moved over her sensitive spot and her orgasm was soon crashing into her, pushing her over the edge.

His stomach was once again soaked in her juices as he darkly chuckled. “Shh, such a good whore.” Daemon purred; his fingers moving from her mouth but before Alicent could speak; the rogue Prince flipped her over. Her legs nearly over her head as he pushed that much deeper. “Ah! Oh gods…” “Your Gods won’t help you now.” His hands groped at her breasts some more; teasing those perky nipples as Alicent only whined beneath him. Those big eyes of hers welled up as he snapped his hips. The sounds of their bodies slapping against each other echoed once more. His free hand moved to the headboard Alicent had once reached for. The sheets beneath him were soaked as his own stomach was tightening in anticipation. Her sweet hand rested on his chest as she stared wide eyed. There were no thoughts behind them, Daemon knew that and it only had his smirk widening some more. “You want to continue this, hmm?” The rogue Prince purred to her.

Alicent could only whimper as his larger hand slowly moved to her stomach and pressed down on the bulge. “It’s ..it’s too much..” The young Queen cried out; those doe eyes of hers welling up with tears now. Daemon only ignored her; his thrusts quickening as his fat cock pushed deeper. His body was nearly resting on her. Daemon stared down at her sweet, creamy pussy spreading apart to take him. A soft gasp escaped her as his spit fell; falling on her clit as he did it again. “No…no..” Alicent whined; her body thrashing like a woman possessed as his free hand moved to her pussy once more. He roughly began to rub at her clit and made her clamp down on his thrusting, fat cock.

“Fuck, that’s it…oh, you want this…” Daemon hummed as she lost herself in the pleasure once more. Beads of sweat moved over her soft skin as he used her body. The rogue Prince groaned as his cock buried deeper. His length twitching as his own release was close to taking over now. “No..not inside.” Alicent so sweetly begged and he could only laugh down at her. “Oh…sweet girl…that was never your choice.” He purred and those eyes of hers widened even more as his cum flooded her. His hips snapped some more as he grunted; pushing deep to release before slowly moving out of her. His still leaking head slapped against her clit before he reached for her head and pushed her down.

Her gagging noises only had his cock throbbing in her hot mouth some more. “Yes..that’s it…good girl..” The praises had Alicent whining against him, drooling down his length as his hand returned to harshly rub against her clit. Her body shook with each stroke as he rocked his hips; fucking her mouth as the cum dribbled down. Alicent hummed; her soft, sweet tongue moving over his slit before he moved her head up and down his length and kept her there. “Can’t have someone walking in, hmm?” Daemon taunted some more as his rubbing pushed her over the edge. She squirted with ease; soaking his fingers as she gagged around his cock.

“I bet your guard dog wants you like this..” Daemon whispered before three of his thick fingers pushed inside her creamy pussy. “Can’t have this falling out, can we?” He purred, pushing his cum deeper whilst she stared up at him. Alicent was at a loss for words as her eyes rolled back once more. Gods, she felt so light headed. His fat length pressed against her tongue making her drool some more as his palm hit against her clit again and again. The wet, obscene sounds making their presence known as her toes curled. She had never known such pleasure and now all she wanted was to feel it again. It was as if the rogue Prince heard her thoughts as he smirked.

“We are going to have so much fun together.” He leaned in; pushing his cock down her throat as he without mercy bullied her soft spot that had her rushing towards the edge once more. The pain and pleasure of being overstimulated caused her body to arch and convulse. Daemon could only watch in enjoyment.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Aemond T. Random Thought-Vhagar Recognizes his Omega

Omegaverse HotD Vhagar Theory!

Vhagar would 1000% recognize Aemond’s Omega before he did!

Aemond is forced to visit Winterfell for his father and Vhagar is noticeably extra grumpy because of the cold-her old lady joints don’t need the Goddamn snow! Everyone in the whole of Winterfell can see her and the Starks are keeping their distance. However, Vhagars demeanor quickly changes from her extra grumpy headspace to excitment when the servants bring out the wine as Aemond and Cregan Stark speak.

Even Aemond is startled by this and the giant beast begins moving closer to everyone. Some move behind Aemond, some scream and run for their lives, others freeze as if she won’t be able to see them if they don’t move, but the women that Vhagar has her eyes sets on doesn’t move at all. The dragon rumbles, leaning down and smelling her over a few times before her deep trill turns to more of a purr and she rests her head down to allow the Omega to touch her.

Cregan is instantly questioning Aemond who ignores him completely and approaches with caution himself, never having seen his own dragon like this though…he had heard legends.

There were many stories of Balerion the Black Dread with his Rider Aegons sister wife, Rhaenys was an Omega and Balerion adored her, he became very protective of his riders Omega especially once she became pregnant.

That was all Aemond could think about as he approached them, catching the sweet scent on the wind that smelled of peaches. He approached behind her, taking in the smell of her pineapple smelling hair soap which he instantly made a note of to get and bring back to Kings Landing with them.

‘Well done Vhagar.’ Aemond spoke and the old dragon huffed before nudging the women which inadvertently shoved her into Aemond’s arms, leaving the girl to look up at her Alpha startled. ‘Hello my love.’

Aemond rushes her back to Kings Landing without a choice on the Starks part (not that they could say much even if she was more than just a bastard-she was a sister of the Warden of the North and the closest family he had regardless of birth)

Aemond presents her to his father who is thrilled for his son and excited to see how many little pups they end up having which had Aemond snarling at the King himself for scaring his Omega. The only time Viserys would ever apologize.

He is POSSESSIVE! To the Extreme. The maesters say that it is normal considering how many people he has to put up with being around her unmated every single day since usually a couple would be mated immediately. Royal couples however need to wait until plans are made. He Hates It!

Her meeting everyone else was very quick and Aemond never let her alone with any of them for any length of time.

Aegon tries to cause issues but his Omega is the most understanding thing in the world and no matter how much his elder brother teases she never falters. He tried to get to her with talk of the eyepatch, as if it wasn’t on display for her to see 24/7.

Aemond couldn’t have been happier with his Omega and he will spend the rest of his days trying to be worthy of her.

[callme-holly]

Hi! Could you do Sodapop x a reader who adores her little dog? Like she loves lap dogs and has one of her own. If you can’t think of a fic you could do gang x !dog person reader?

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐝𝐨𝐠 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - none 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 977 words 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none

DARRY CURTIS:

Honestly, I can see Darry loving your dog. He knows you two are practically a package deal, and it doesn’t take long at all for your dog to fall in love with him. If your dog is a lap dog, I can just picture Darry and you sprawled out on the couch together, the dog sitting between you both.  The two of you will go on early morning dog walks together before he has to go to work, and then later on when he gets home. It’s like a little routine the two of you have fallen into. He also never complains when you spoil the dog; he’ll just shake his head fondly and let you get on with it. 

SODAPOP CURTIS:

When I tell you Soda might love your dog just as much as you do, I mean it. This boy is a dog person. He’ll play with them in the yard for hours, throwing balls, playing tug-of-war, and chasing them around. It’s a good way to get his energy out as well as the dog’s.  If your dog is a lap dog, no worries; Soda isn’t prone to cuddling up on the couch. It’ll just be the three of you cramped onto one small section, in a little pile, and y’all wouldn’t have it any other way. Its guaranteed that he’ll spoil the dog just as much as you do; he’ll bring back treats from the DX, and at dinner, he might slip a few scraps under the table. Needless to say, he is just as smitten as you.

PONYBOY CURTIS:

Pony might be a little unsure at first, but it won’t take long for him to warm up to your dog, and before you know it, he adores it. He will let the dog climb all over him, even if it means getting fur or slobbering over his clothes—he knows it makes the dog and you, in turn, happy.  If your dog is a lap dog, he will let it curl up with him on the couch whilst he reads. Sometimes, you might catch him absently scratching it’s ears or back. He’ll also sketch your pup on occasion and has quite a few pages in his sketchbook dedicated to the dog.  Going on walks together is something he loves and looks forward to. It just gives him another excuse to get out of the house for a little while.

JOHNNY CADE:

Johnny develops a soft spot for your dog from the first moment he meets them. He’s immediately kneeling down and fussing over them, giving them scratches and pats and receiving lots of licks in return. He will feel so comfortable around your dog, especially if they’re a lap dog. He’s more than happy to sit on the floor, the dog sprawled out across his legs as he played with their ears, running his fingers through their fur. He finds it incredibly comforting and grounding. Sometimes, you’ll catch him mumbling to your dog, telling them things he might not feel comfortable telling anyone else (me too).  He probably spoils your pup just as much as you do, but in his own quiet way. 

DALLAS WINSTON:

Dallas will be a little indifferent at first, shrugging off your dog’s attention and trying to push them away. But after you catch him sitting on your couch, the dog in his lap as he watches TV, you suspect he doesn't hate them as much as he lets on.  If the dog jumps in his lap while you're around, he’ll grumble and complain, but he’ll never actually push them off. He’ll pet them absentmindedly, scratching behind their ears, his tough exterior cracking slightly when the dog nudges him or wags their tail at him.  When he goes out, he’ll bring the dog along with him, especially if they’re big and tough. He’ll also make sure your dog is capable of protecting you if someone were to both of you. Dally doesn’t spoil your dog to the same extent as you, if at all, but he’ll still sneak scraps under the table or swipe a tennis ball to throw around halfheartedly.

STEVE RANDLE:

Steve is all about your dog the second he meets them, and he’s instantly smitten. You best believe that pup becomes his little partner in crime, going along everywhere with him. He knows how much they mean to you, so he’ll do everything he can to make sure they’re well looked after and taken care of. He’ll pick up food and treats from the DX to bring home and will go out of walks with you all the time. He matches their energy perfectly, always down to play fetch or tug-of-war with your dog, running around with them and chasing them around the yard. If they’re a lap dog, he’ll definitely let them sleep up on the bed with you both, giving them a designated spot at the foot of the mattress. He also brings them to work with him, especially when you can’t be home, letting them sit beside him whilst he works on a car.

TWO-BIT MATHEWS:

TwoBit falls in love with your dog almost instantly, and they instantly become his best friend. He fusses over them all the time, giving them scratches and pats and letting them jump all over him.  If your dog is a lap dog, Two is all for it. He’ll let them climb into his lap at any time, even if it means getting covered in fur. He’s always sneaking them little bits of food, no matter how many times you tell him not to, and before long your dog always knows to sit next to him at dinner.  He also loves taking them out on little adventures too, like wherever you both go on dates, it’s got to be somewhere dog-friendly. 

[starogeorgina]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬

Pairing: Criston Cole x reader

Warnings: Swearing, oral sex

1.07

You giggle as Raya reminisces about the time she and another handmaid walked in on a newly married lord and lady from a visiting house having sex in the gardens of Winterfell. You were more surprised that everything was working while being outside in the freezing snow . It was only of interest to the ladies because of how handsome the Lord was, but the scandal quickly became old news.

If that had taken place in the gardens of the keep, it would still be spoken about daily years later.

As you whispered to each other in hushed tones while Raya finished braiding your hair, the sound of shifting armour from across the room caught your ear.

“Is something wrong, princess?”

“No…no, no, of course not. I just hadn’t realised the Kingsguard was changing so early.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realised that Ser Criston was on the other side of the door. You had yet to speak to him since returning to keep the night before. What you did… you didn’t regret it but were afraid he would. Your stomach is in knots, but you smile politely at the rest of her story, knowing you’ll need to speak with him shortly.

A few moments of silence pass before Raya finishes. Clearing your throat nervously, you stand up and start to smooth out your dress when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come.”

The door opens and Criston enters the room, his facial expression completely neutral. He bows his head, “Ser Gwayne, princess.”

Your lips part when the knight steps to the side, letting your husband walk into the room. You lock eyes with Criston’s, and it’s like looking into pools of darkness; a brief flash of irritation appears on his face as he leaves to resume his post outside. Raya excuses herself and pretends to fluff up pillows, but you know she’s listening in.

“I’m glad I caught you before you went dragon riding,” Gwayne says. “I was wondering if you’d join me for a walk in the gardens?”

A lump forms in your throat as you force a smile, “Yes, of course.”

Clicking your tongue, Storm grumbles, jumps down off the chair, and comes behind you. You clap behind his ear before moving towards the door.

Gwayne looks surprised. “You’re bringing the pup?”

“Direwolf,” you correct. “But yes, it’s not good for a wolf to be cooped up inside all day.”

“Much similar to a dragon then.”

—

You try not to sigh or roll your eyes while sitting down next to the shaded fountain in the garden, even though Gwayne was walking with his wife, a princess; it didn’t stop him from eye-fucking with other ladies at court.

It was embarrassing.

“I suppose the young princess won’t want to travel back home without her wolf,” Gwayne says, looking at Storm, who was now lying beneath a tree.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why the sudden invite to join you?”

The redhead shakes his head, chuckling. “I do admire how frank you are, princess. I simply wished to speak with you and thought, why not outside?”

“Oh.”

You skim your finger over the water, watching the colourful fish swimming. Stubbornness was a trait of a Targaryen, but you refuse to speak first when the other person is treating you like a fool. Gwayne had invited you to the gardens to put on a show.

After a few moments of silence, Gwayne clears his throat and, almost in a whisper, asks, “Did you think any more of what I suggested? Taking a lo—”

“Stop,” you hiss, glancing around to make sure nobody else was nearby, aside from your sword shield, who was standing with his back towards the fountain. “I know you weren’t a man marked with jealousy, but you mustn’t say that out loud. Saying such things in public is how rumours are spread.”

Taken aback, Gwayne looks genuinely remorseful. “Sorry, I wasn’t—“ he sighs. “I have been feeling the pressure from both my father and sister; every other day they are asking when I will be a father. It’s exhausting. I missed my family while I lived in OldTown but now it’s clear I took privacy for granted.”

Squeezing his hand, “You’ll learn to drown the noise out.”

“But did you think about it?”

“I have… I haven’t reached a decision yet.”

You felt bad for lying, but Gwayne was a Hightower, and it was still unclear how trustworthy he was even though it was his idea.

“There was something else I wanted to ask you,” he licks at his lips. “I know you have plans of returning to Winterfell, but the queen has informed me they are having a feast for Prince Daeron’s name-day, and all of House Hightower will be attending, and without you by my side, I will be bombarded with questions. It’s selfish, I know.”

Daeron wasn’t much older than Jacaerys, and you didn’t doubt how elaborate your brother's name-day would be to compensate for the attention the king would give his grandson soon after. You didn’t think it was possible for a handsome lord to be so unhappy at court, but now his usual mask of calmness was slipping.

“We will stay and go north afterwards.”

“Thank you.”

—

It doesn’t take the knight king to approach you in the gardens after Gwayne leaves.

You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you try to control your breathing. It was hard trying to focus on anything else with the memory of Criston's lips pressing against your own fresh in your mind.

His hands gripping tightly onto your thighs as he presses your back against the tree…

“Princess.”

“Ser Criston,” you swallow thickly. “Did you overhear?”

He nods. In a low voice he says, “I meant what I said, princess; my sword and shield are yours.”

“Nobody could ever know,” you whisper to yourself more than him. “Whatever we have, it will forever be hidden in the shadows of the castle.”

“I know.”

“You’ll need to watch another man claim a babe that you fathered.”

“Having the smallest parts of you will be enough,” he says softly.

Taking a deep breath, your eyes gloss over. You wanted to be a good wife and mother and do your duty, and because of the knight, it would be possible. You just hoped after having the smallest parts of Criston, you don’t become greedy and want more.

You throw your head back as Criston’s warm tongue laps between your sensitive folds; you feel a rush of pleasure coursing through your body and tightening in your stomach. Clutching at the soft linens, you bite down on your bottom lip, careful not to make a loud noise. Your hips begin to buck upward involuntarily, meeting his skilled tongue.

Just as your orgasm approaches, a sudden, sharp knock on the door pulls you apart from each other. Someone attempts to open the door, but it doesn’t budge.

Thank the gods Criston locked it.

“It’s Raya, princess.”

“Just a moment!”

“I’m just making sure you are feeling well since you haven’t been breaking fast at your usual times.” Raya wasn’t one to spontaneously appear; she never breaks from her routine unless asked to, which leads you to believe something else is going on. The knocking continues, more urgently this time. “Her grace is quite persistent that she sees for herself that you are feeling well.”

Alicent.

Panic flickers across Criston’s face, mirroring your own. He stares up at you and silently mouths, “What do we do?”

You share a look, both knowing the consequences of getting caught. Your heart races. Rushing to your feet, you sway slightly, getting a head rush from the sudden movement. You lift the frilly bed skirt and hold it up so Criston can crawl underneath it. Thankfully he wasn’t undressed yet, which meant he had no clothes discarded across the room. The knight had been using a door that was hidden by furniture to come in and out of your room, but there was no time.

Clearing your throat, you fix your nightgown and put on a robe and go to unlock the door. “Your grace, forgive me for taking so long—”

Alicent walks straight into your chambers, her eyes immediately landing on your unmade bed. Raya mouths sorry then leaves. You silently debated whether you should close the door or not with Alicent’s sworn shield and another knight from the king's guard posted outside the room.

“Are you ill, stepdaughter?” She asks in a sickly sweet tone.

“No, your grace, I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

Alicent scrunches her nose up. “The king did mention that Meera was still sharing a room with you most nights. What does your husband think about that?”

“As Ser Gwayne doesn’t visit my chambers during the night, I imagine he cares very little about it.”

“Hmm,” she gives you a sarcastic smile. “I will admit I was hoping you were having symptoms of morning sickness.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m just sleep deprived.”

“Yes, perhaps a bath might help you not look so stressed. As the king’s daughter, it is important that you look presentable during such a celebrated occasion.”

You bite down on your tongue; her bitterness towards you was blatantly obvious. Part of you did pity Alicent since Daeron’s name day was on the morrow and your father didn’t seem interested. “Of course, your grace.”

As soon as she leaves, you close the door and wait a few beats before locking it.

While chewing on your lower lip, you go back towards your bed; before you reach it, Criston sneaks up behind you and plants a kiss on your cheek.

Your mind goes into overdrive with the fear of not being able to do your duty. As if he can tell what you’re thinking. Criston places his hand over his stomach. “It’s only been three weeks; give it time.”

“I know,” your noses brush together as you turn to face him. “Unfortunately, I think it’s best that you go. She could come back.”

Criston nods and backs away from you slowly; the feeling of his hand holding yours still lingers long after he’s let go. Minutes later you are left standing alone in your chambers processing how close you just were to being caught.

—

Holding his head in his hands, Criston inhales and exhales deeply. In the privacy of his own room, he sits completely nude, trying to cool down, but his efforts are in vain since sweat still trickles down his brow. His body was coated in sweat by the time he returned to the White Sword Tower.

The Targaryen princess's beauty could be to blame, but whatever the reason, Criston was completely infatuated with her.

Even now, after almost being caught by the queen, he still felt a yearning for her. It was sickening; Criston was so ashamed of breaking his vows. The moment he heard Alicent’s voice, he began to tremble like a scared child, but one glance at the princess's teary eyes and the knight knew he needed to hold himself together. So he tried his best not to seem so fazed while being terrified on the inside.

If anyone discovers their secret, the knight's head would be taken, and he would bring disgrace to his family’s name… yet, he knew he’d risk again and again for the princess.

[inkstainedheartbeats]

Part two of this. There may be one more part.

Slight content warning for vague but there child abuse

———————————-

Eddie doesn’t chase after Steve. To say what he does after he sits there blinking as the love of his life, his mate in all but bite, races out of their home would imply some sort of romantic grace. Nothing in what he does is graceful. The Beta bounces off walls, trips over shoes and fights for an agonizingly long time with the door knob. It’s the most nerve wracking thing Eddie has ever done, including but not limited to giving the lich king himself the middle finger before bashing his skull in with the Upside Down version of his warlock. He doesn’t even stop to apologize to Mrs Kendrick, the sweetest neighbor Eddie has ever had, when he nearly flattens her in his mad dash.

He’s not sure if he’s relieved or terrified when he sees that Steve hasn’t left. That this frantic, terrible energy caught in his throat and gut won’t be released on the road. He slips into the passenger seat, whines low and mournful at the smell of sadness, of that broken snow globe smell that is thick as a hot box fog.

“Stevie, baby, sweetheart?”

Steve’s hands are still shaking. Brown eyes clenched closed. Eddie’s done this. Brought Steve to this point. He’s lucky Robin or Erica isn’t here. That Max and Eleven are clear across town. That Lucas and Will and Dustin are gods knows where enjoying the summer.

He reaches out, stops when Steve flinches away from him. Brings back his hand to his lap.

“I’m scared shitless, Stevie. Absolutely fucking terrified.”

Leather seats crinkle.

“That’s why I said what I did. And it’s not because of you. Well some of it is,” he’s trying not to ramble. Twisting his rings and talking. Wayne says that ooen communication is the key to any relationship. Eddie’s never been too good at that outside of sex.

“I had a shitty dad, and I know you had one too. I know you’re so goddamn confident that you can have those six nuggets and not become him. I know you know that loving your kid is unconditional. You do it for eight of them now.”

And it was eight. Because despite Holly managing to avoid the sheer terror that was Vecna round two she still fell into Steve’s orbit. Still wound up wrapping the gentle Alpha that is Steve around her finger. He loves his munchkins so goddamn much and they aren’t even his. It drives the traditionalist stereotypers up a wall and Eddie loves it. He loves how effortless Steve loves.

“But I’m not. He’s always in my head, Steve. When our pups do something, when Henderson says something. He’ll speak up. I think for a moment of the punishments that would have earned me. And I can see myself doing them. See myself turning on you when you try to stop me just like my mom.”

His mother was a mousy, sickly Beta woman that didn’t know what she was getting into marrying his angry Beta father.

“I don’t want to be him.”

Steve tentatively reaches out. Grabs one of Eddie’s hands.

“I’m not you know.”

“What?”

“Confident I won’t be like him. Like my dad. I’m terrified every time I look in the mirror that I’ll be like him. That I’ll be worse.”

He’s brought Eddie’s hand up to his face. He’s nuzzling it in a way that would make Frank Munson absolutely furious.

“I’m scared of so many things, Eds. But you turning out anything like your father isn’t one of them.”

Somehow, Eddie manages to coax Steve out of the car. To agree to calling in sick. It’s not fixed. Not yet. But they’re working on it and that’s what matters.

———————————-

Hoping this works

Tagging:

@xxbottlecapx

Now has a part three

[starshideurfics]

A Mother’s Love - Part 3

part 1, part 2

omegaverse, pre-steddie, hints of WaynexBenny, steve with powers

Benny spends the next 37 hours in Wayne’s nest, holding his pup the whole time. It doesn’t make up for the nearly 14 years of holding Steve that he lost out on, but it’s a start.

In the wee hours of the morning, Steve is breathing deeply against Benny’s shoulder, sleeping hard.

Sure they can’t be overheard, Benny turns to Marsha and asks, “What do we tell him?”

“What do you want to tell him?” she returns, just as softly.

“That I did not want to give him up. That it wasn’t my choice.” He breathes deep, peaches and cream flood his senses, and Benny kisses his hair.

“Richard and I haven’t told him he’s adopted yet. But I don’t think he has any memories from before we moved to Hawkins.” She smiles over at Benny and her boy. “I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want him to have to deal with… Any of it. Not knowing will keep him safer.”

“I agree on all that.”

Benny pets down Steve’s back, purrs to comfort him. “But what do we tell him?” His voice breaks as he asks again.

“He deserves to know as much of the truth as we can tell him. You were young, couldn’t keep him-”

“I wasn’t given a choice!”

“Shh, I know, honey. I know. You’d never choose it.”

She stands, pulls her chair closer so she can touch him, caresses Benny’s cheek. “But it’s also the truth. You didn’t want to give him up, you had to, you knew me from work, asked for help.” She pauses, hand moving to Steve’s hair. “I didn’t realize we’d moved to the same town. All true.”

“Yes.” His heart hurts, so much of his pain is being peeled back and discarded. The horrors of his life cast to the wayside.

“Steve’s always been a sensitive boy. I think he’ll *feel* the connection. I really do.”

“I know. I feel it, too. Could feel it the second I saw him.”

“Mama?” Steve mumbles in his sleep, fingers tightening their grip on Benny’s shirt.

“It’s okay, baby,” Benny murmurs, rubbing his back. “You’re okay.”

That’s all it takes. Steve settles, body going lax again as he nuzzles against Benny’s neck.

When his heat finally breaks, Steve is confused. Disoriented more than anything. But he listens as his mother speaks, still breathing the comforting apple scent on Benny’s shirt. Her words are easy to accept, burrowing deep inside him, finding a home in his heart.

Suddenly, Steve finds himself in possession of a Dad, Mom, and now a Mama.

❤️❤️❤️

Steve gets the weekend after his presentation heat to sleep off the remaining exhaustion and give himself time to absorb everything that’s changed about his life.

And it really does feel like everything has changed.

It’s confusing, but good. He just… He doesn’t want to be different.

Barely anyone brings it up, but Steve knows he doesn’t fit in with most of his classmates simply because his family isn’t from Hawkins. He’s known everyone since Kindergarten, but his mom hasn’t known their moms since 1st grade, so it’s different.

He doesn’t want to give anyone a reason to talk.

His mom and Benny think it’s a good idea to be quiet about it too. So, he decides he won’t tell anyone. There will be enough commotion with him presenting omega.

Tommy still hasn’t presented yet, but he’ll be gross about it. Ask Steve if he wants to play doctor like they’re four.

Steve has no intention of showing anyone else his pussy right now. Especially not Tommy Hagen. It was bad enough that his mom had to check it, and she’s a nurse! But she said it looked perfectly healthy, and Steve fully intends to ignore his new vulva for a while…

But Monday comes, and he can’t ignore school. He rides his bike, like he always does, wanting to feel normal, even if his bicycle seat feels weird now. Because, you know…

But he gets to school, says he doesn’t feel all that different anytime someone asks, but he feels things—stabs of jealousy, confusion, anger and desire wrapped up in one. It’s worst around Tommy, like a buzzing beneath his skin, and Steve is happy to retreat to first period, to sit quietly as Mr. Clarke takes roll.

But the buzzing gets worse, and his head starts to ache. 20 minutes in, it’s like pressure is building inside his skull, sharp pain with every movement, and dull pain if he holds still.

Steve nearly makes it to the end of the hour when the nausea strikes, and he makes it to the trash can by the door just in time to puke up his breakfast.

Mr. Clarke sends him to the nurse’s office. She has him lie down, puts a cold compress over his eyes. That helps, and the buzzing is gone.

Steve cries, a little from relief, but more from anguish. A grief that isn’t his. He looks at Nurse Baker, remembers his mom saying something about a drunk running a red light and hitting a pedestrian.

Sees the bags beneath her eyes, like she doesn’t sleep. “Are you okay?” he asks.

It’s like a switch flips on her face, but the sadness still radiates out from her chest. “I’m fine, Steven,” she says, smiling. “How are you feeling? I called your mother, but she can’t get away from work.” She strokes his hair, replaces the cold compress on Steve’s forehead. “She said your uncle will pick you up. Take you home.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers, confused and hurting.

Ten minutes later Benny arrives in the office, dropping into a crouch at Steve’s side. “Hey, Pup,” he says softly. “You think you can walk, or are you gonna hurl again?”

“I can walk,” Steve insists, sitting up. Benny rubs his back, helps him stand. They make it to the parking lot without issue, but alone, in Benny’s truck, Steve starts crying again. “I think something’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Baby. You’re perfect. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.” Benny holds him close, pushes out his scent.

Steve can smell his fear. His worry. He’s always been sensitive like that.

💔💔💔

Benny still has nightmares about the day he gave birth. About the day his baby was stolen away.

They gave him enough drugs that he doesn’t remember the pain so clearly, but he remembers hearing his pup cry. Remembers how desperate he was to hold him.

He never got the chance.

The nurses whisked him from the room, Brenner saying he needed tests and shots, that the hard part was over and Benny should rest.

He didn’t want to rest. He wanted his pup. Cried out for him. But the nurses didn’t bring him back. Said he went into respiratory arrest. That his heart stopped.

That’s when the pain started. Pain in his heart. Pain between his legs from being cut, from the stitches. Pain in his breasts as his milk comes in.

Marsha spent days with him after, holding his hand, helping him pump, then helping his milk dry up.

But in his dreams, he’s alone.

He can hear his pup crying, but he cannot move. His legs feel heavy, so heavy he can’t lift them. He hurts, and there’s blood everywhere. His nipples are leaking, and that’s blood too.

Everything is red.

The crying stops suddenly, and it’s too quiet. He screams himself hoarse. Begs for his pup. He wakes screaming.

The dreams are worse near the anniversary… His pup’s birthday.

Steve’s birthday.

He thinks that’s why they’ve hit him again, even now that he’s found his boy again.

It’s why he has bags under his eyes when he picks Steve up from the nurse’s office.

Steve turns 14 next week.

Nearly 14 years his baby was gone. And having him back isn’t enough to stop the dreams.

At least now he has a scent token in his nest that smells of sweet peaches that he can sniff to calm his fears.

Even better, he has Steve in his arms in the cab of his truck.

Steve whines against his shoulder, moaning, “But I feel broken. Like everyone is pushing into my head.”

“Everything?”

“*Everyone.* It hurts.”

Benny rubs his back, and feels just as helpless as his baby. “We’ll talk to Mom about it when she gets home. But you need to lay down, let’s get you home.”

“No.”

“Baby, it’ll be okay. We’ll get you in your nest-”

“No. Don’t leave me.” Steve grabs hard at his shoulder, fingers locked in place.

“I need to go to work.”

“I’ll come with you. Please.” His nose nuzzles forward, finds Benny’s neck. “Please, Mama.”

Benny feels tears against his skin. He can’t say no to that, not when his boy is hurting. When he needs him.

Benny drives back to his burger shop, still having about an hour before he opens for lunch. He brings Steve in, smiles to see him relax, and has him get settled at a booth in the corner.

“If you start feeling it again, the pushing into your head, let me know right away,” Benny orders gently. He forces a smile. “But if your stomach is settled, I’d guess you’re hungry. Think you could eat a couple eggs and some toast?” The eggs are tor the Sunrise Burger, the toast for the patty melt. There’s no breakfast on his menu, but it feels like the best option right now, quick and simple.

Steve nods, mumbles his thanks as he puts his head down on the table and closes his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll let your mom know you’re here, and I’ll be right back with those eggs. It’ll be okay, Baby.”

“It’ll be okay,” Benny repeats to himself as he heads in the back, to the phone. It has to be.

He just got his baby back.

❤️❤️❤️

“What’s that mean, ‘he’s empathic,’ like, I get that he’s gentle, sensitive, but what’s it mean?” Wayne asks when Benny comes over after closing.

Marsha picked Steve after work, just before the dinner rush, explained as best she could in whispers. Benny spent the rest of the evening turning it over in his head. He thinks he understands it now. “In the program… We were trying to tap into the deeper powers of the human mind. I… dabbled with LSD when I was younger, it’s how I found MKUltra. Brenner. His goal was telekinesis. Reading minds. Science fiction stuff.”

He pinches at the bridge of his nose. “Martha said most of the children showed signs of some power, but Steve struggled. He cried all the time, was inconsolable most days. She doesn’t think Brenner figured it out, that he was picking up on big feelings, anything harsh like fear or pain. She helped him build walls in his mind—when he started school—and I don’t fully understand it, but I guess presenting broke through them.”

“So he can feel what other people are feeling…”

“And teenagers feel things so strongly…”

Wayne reaches out, grabs Benny’s hand. “And it made him throw up?”

“How would you feel if a couple dozen horny, angry, moody teens’ emotions flooded your head?” Benny returns, still gentle, but Wayne knows him so well, can read the worry and anger in his scent.

“I’d probably puke, too,” Wayne answers, pumping out his own calming scent, sweet cinnamon fills the air and Benny breathes deeply. His shoulders unhunch a little.

“Marsha is gonna work with him in rebuilding the walls, but she’s worried he’s too comfortable with her, that he’s too attuned to her emotions already…”

“Does she think you can-”

“No, after his presentation… I guess I’m too safe.”

“Too safe?”

“Yeah… And she thinks it would help to have him working with someone closer to his age. With big, teenage emotions…”

Wayne shakes his head. “Ben, no. You can’t mean-”

“He didn’t say anything when he got Steve over here. I trust him, and Marsha doesn’t trust any of Steve’s friends.”

“Eddie’s got a big mouth, I love the boy, but what if he says anything to Al?”

“We’re not worried about Al. This is about keeping it from Brenner, in case he’s still keeping tabs on Marsha at all.”

“I’ll talk to him about needing help tomorrow,” Wayne agrees softly. He stands up. “How are you doing? This is a lot to deal with, even when your kid doesn’t have some kind of special powers.”

Benny covers his eyes, whines when Wayne touches his shoulder. “It’s my fault. This is what we were trying to do. And now my baby’s hurting.”

“You’re helping him feel better. And you didn’t know it would be like this. You didn’t.” Wayne rubs his back as Benny hides his face against the other omega’s shirt. “You love your boy so much, you’re being so strong for him.”

Benny lets himself cry in Wayne’s arms.

He loves his boy so much.

[mythos-writes]

My Ferrari

Toto Wolff x Ferrari principal (wife) reader

Plot: Toto and his wife use the grid as ponds in their plans to mess with each other... inspired by @pucksandpower Social Media AU cause I think it's so cute

Formula 1 Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning: fluffy moments, Lewis and Charles getting 'kidnapped', google translated german + italian,

Lewis was walking by the Ferarri paddock, minding his business and preparing for free practice. His music playing in his AirPods, when he heard a voice trying to get his attention.

“Lewis!” a voice gets his attention. He takes out a bud and looks around. He sees (Y/N) Wolff running up to him.

“Hey, (Y/N), what can I do for you?” He asks, still clueless about her plans.

“I want to play with Toto a little, and I need your help,” she explains but keeps it vague.

“Ok, with what?” he asks, not noticing Charles and Carlos coming up behind him.

“GET HIM!” she yells. Lewis feels arms around him, and him leaving the ground. “What are you going?!” he says, trying to not giggle because he knows he won’t get hurt.

“You are going to be my ransom against your famous principal,” She says with a smile. They take him into the garage and to (Y/N)’s office. They place him on a folding chair and tie him up in some take they had found in the garage.

All Lewis could do is give (Y/N) a ‘why do you have to drag me into this’ look. Once the two drivers finished tapping up the other driver, they were giggling like toddlers getting a pass for bad behaviour. “Thanks’ you two, you guys are good to go,” she tells her drivers.

“(Y/N) what is all this for?” Lewis questions, knowing she couldn’t hide things from him. [Things that were non-racing related] 

“I know your season hasn’t been the best, and I just wanted to have some fun. Even though we’re rivals, we’re also family and it hurts seeing Toto come off a race and just look frustrated and sad. So I’m trying to just have some fun,” she tells.

“ I appreciate that you’re trying to cheer him up…BUT… why do you have to drag me into this?” he questions, pulling at the tap a little. 

“Oh, because you’re his golden child, and it would be easier to get Carlos and Charles to carry you than George,” she says while pulling her phone out. “And don’t worry, you’ll be out of the tap, just as soon as I get a picture, to send to Toto,” she states while getting a few pictures. 

"Perfect, now I'm going to take the tap off, but you can't return to the Mercedes paddock just yet," she states. Lewis moves to the couch and lays out. "Yeah, I figured as much."

Toto was walking around the Paddock, looking for Lewis. He wasn’t in his driver's room, and he wasn’t with Roscoe, cause Angela took the pup on his paddock walk. He asked George and the other team members but hadn’t seen him. His phone pings, as he gets a series of texts. He sees his wife's name pop up and he feels a smile grow. But when he opens the texts, he tries not to laugh. 

He is greeted with a photo of Lewis tied up with a nervous face on. The text that followed almost made him laugh...

Toto, I have in my possession I have your precious 7-time champion. If you want him back before free practice, you must meet my demands. If you bring yourself and some food from your catering to your dear wife. Then you’ll leave with your precious driver. If not met, Lewis will become a Ferarri driver

Toto looks up and he see’s Goerge talking to Alex Albon just outside of the paddock. He waived the two over. 

“What can we do for you boos man?” Alex asks. 

“Well you two, I had a job for you…”

Charles was getting ready for the practice and he was doing his normal pre-race routine. Because of this, he didn’t hear George or Alex sneak up behind him. George grabbed his hands and Alex grabbed his legs, and they started to carry him off to the Mercedes paddock. 

“What are you two doing?!” Charles asks, he is confused about why he is being dragged into this. Before they could answer, Ted Kravitz spotted the ‘kidnapping’ of Charles  Leclerc. 

“We have just spotted Alex Albon and George Russell carrying Ferarri’s Charles Leclerc. George what is going on here?” he asks. 

“We’re just working orders by the boss,” he replies as they walk into the garage. 

By now, (Y/N) had untapped Lewis, and he was just chilling out in her office. Her phone pinged, notifying her that she had gotten a text. When she opened it, she was shocked to be greeted by a picture of Charles, tapped up just like how they had Lewis. A text followed the picture that read… 

Two can play this game, Liebe. If you want your driver back, I suggest we make a truce and do a driver swap on neutral ground… in front of the McLaren paddock in 20 minutes. If you can’t meet these requirements, Charles will become the newest Mercedes driver this weekend... Also, bring some of Ferarri's catering coffee, you know how I like my coffee

She showed Lewis the texts, and he just started giggling at Charles's face. The two looked at each other, knowing the fun and games were coming to an end. 

“Well, it looks like we need to stop at the coffee booth before we meet my dearest husband,” (Y/N) comments before getting ready to meet the Meracdes principal. 

The end of the 20 minutes was closely approaching, and by now, the whole grid and paddocks knew what was happening between the two teams. So when they saw Toto standing with George and Charles, at one end, outside of the entrance of McLaren’s paddock. The other racers and team principals were standing outside, waiting for the Ferarri principal and the famous Mercedes driver.

“There they are,” someone yells out. Everyone looked up and saw the people of the hour come walking over, with a minute to spare. (Y/N), Carlos and Lewis stop and face off with Toto, George and Charles.

“Do you have what I asked for?” she yells across, they’re about 2 meters apart. Toto raised a bag, that was filled with her favourites from catering.

“And you?” he questions. She holds up the cup of coffee, made how he likes it. He walks closer, signalling she walks towards him. They meet in the middle and hand off their trades. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, amore,” she says with a smile. Toto rolls his eyes, but he found this whole thing amusing. He brought her into a hug, causing the grid to burst out into comedic cheers.  

“Come find me before heading back to the hotel,” he whispers in her ear. She nods.

“Does this mean we can go back to our teams now?!” Lewis yells. The two laugh at the driver’s antics. 

“Yes, you can go back Lewis,” she says as the two drivers swap back to their right teams.

“May the best team win,” he says with his cheeky smile. “May the best team win,” she replies with the same smile. The FIA marshals come by and dismiss everyone, as free practice was about to start.

After free practice and they had their debriefs, (Y/N) made her way to the Mercedes paddock. She was ready for the qualifying race tomorrow. She notified some of the Mercedes crew to let Toto know that she was there. As she waited for him, she ended up finishing some last-minute emails on her phone.

“ Geez, and they call me a workaholic,” Toto’s voice breaks her concentration. She looked up to see him walking towards her. (Y/N) put her phone away and greeted him with a hug. Both teams performed well in practice and had a bright weekend. 

“Come on, we have a long day tomorrow,” she says, just wanting to get room service and get some well-needed cuddles. They get into the car and made their way back to the hotel. It was quiet for most of the drive. 

“So about the antic you pulled,” Toto broke the silence. She looked over at him in the driver's seat. “That was quite the start of the weekend,” he says, trying to stay stoic. 

“Well, I know that this season hasn’t been the one you were expecting, and I hated coming home and seeing you so disappointed and frustrated. So, I decided to have a little fun,” she explains herself. Toto brought his hand to her lap and wrapped his large hand around her smaller one. He brought her hand up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss against the back of her hand. 

“I appreciate that Liebe, and I must say, I did have fun today,” he says, remembering the way he recruited drivers to do his bidding. She smiles and returned the kiss he just placed on her hand. 

“I’m glad that my plan worked,” she replies. Silence fell between the two, but it was a peaceful and comfortable silence. 

“The next time you plan to kidnap one of my drivers again, I’m just going to steal you and have Charles and Carlos come to rescue you,” he comments, causing her to erupt into laughter. Their relationship had its ups and downs, but right now it was the perfect relationship anyone could dream of. 

~~~~~~~~~

google translate:

German: Love- Liebe

Italian: My Love- amore

[aspiring-house-husband]

werewolves attempt to keep to themselves, mostly. they live as wolf packs in state game lands and national parks, keeping the ecological balance. every once in a while they’ll live on unclaimed lands, and when they do, they eventually make deals with landowners. 

your pack lives on thousands of acres owned by one man. he lives a fairly modest life; he just wants to keep out in the woods and tend his koi ponds. he is quite respectful to your pack, waving when you travel by and staying out of the part of the forest that you’ve requested. 

he’s never a problem. occasionally, though, he brings guests. those you have to watch more closely. 

they’re always good, too. you have to assume that the owner talks to them, tells them not to go off his paths, tells them to clean up after themselves. but that doesn’t meant that there can’t be sentries posted to make sure they don’t wander too far. 

usually, it’s the same family. must be some friends of the owner who bring their progeny. there’s a grandfather with his cane and his wisdom. there’s his daughter, with her happy smile and tendency to keep the campfires roaring. and then the daughter’s children. 

she has an oldest son, the most responsible. he has a family of his own now, a wife and toddler son to chase around and feed marshmallows to. there’s a middle daughter, who travels and has stories to tell. 

and not every time, but with rare luck, their youngest son travels to join them. and whenever you’re on sentry duty, he catches your eye. 

the others are respectful. they have fun, they clean up, they sigh and enjoy the wind. the youngest, though, he seems to revel in it. he strolls around the large fields and checks himself for ticks. he turns his face to the wind and closes his eyes like he can understand the twists and breezes. he runs barefoot, and while he’s not very fast, his form is almost familiar. he points out poison ivy and knows which woods burn the best and can tell which streams are safe to drink. he’s a bit small, but the way he entertains and plays with his nephew makes you imagine him taking care of pups, and even though you know it won’t take, you crave to fuck him full of them. 

he’s perfect. and one weekend, when all the others leave, he stays alone. 

the property is wide and beautiful. the parts of it that are more ‘tamed’ include a pond, a fire pit, a hammock, and an elevated pavilion. he sits there most of the day, just looking off into the forest. he almost seems like he longs for it. 

so you’re a bit daring. you stalk forward from the woods, hulking and rippling muscle and canine teeth parted to allow scent to pass through. 

he seems scared, but he doesn’t move. he lets you travel to him, and only twenty feet away does he step back. so you sit down and transform, and you watch his handsome face as he realizes what you are. 

“hello,” you tell him, and he shakes his head like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. you can’t blame him. he’s speechless, even a moment later, so you stand and approach him. he holds his ground this time, letting you come all the way up to his space, letting your hands wander over his torso. he seems to entertain you, letting you do as you please. 

emboldened, you tilt his chin up, and lavish your tongue over his neck. he’s missing the scent gland there, but you don’t mind, his own scent is perfect enough. he lets out a soft sigh, and that’s all you need. 

there’s a fancy table in the center of the pavilion. all it matters to you is that it doesn’t tip when you lift him and set him on it, pulling his clothing from his body. he can’t help but to touch you as you do, now gingerly giving kisses back across his shoulders and neck, and he teases his teeth across your skin. the sensation sets you alight, and even moreso you want him. you want him as yours. 

your weeping cock slides between his thighs a few times before he opens his legs to you and lays back, arching up his back as you prep him sloppily and hastily with your fingers. it’s all you have not to fuck into him, to pop your knot inside him, claim him and mark him and bite him and change him. you can barely stop yourself, but you do, and your reward is his sultry moan as you fuck him onto your fingers. 

you tell him your name just so he can moan it as you finally thrust inside him, all the way up to your swollen knot. he all but screams, bucking his hips already in pleasure, whimpering and panting. if you didn’t know better, you’d think him in heat. 

“please, please,” he begs, and you don’t know what he begs for, but even so you grab onto his hips and thrust into him, building a rhythm that hints to a crescendo of his moans getting higher and higher pitched, his legs locking behind you, his hole clamping down on you. you start to fear you won’t fit inside him with how desperately he tightens around you, so you pull him to you as you snap your hips forward, and he paints his own chest with the force of his orgasm at being knotted. 

you collapse onto his chest, still weakly thrusting as you pump him full. you can’t help but clamp your teeth down, only controlling yourself enough to not break skin. he lifts one hand to pet your hair, panting under your body, still sounding and smelling of heat. 

you have him twice more before the day is up. he turns up at a lot more of those family gatherings after that. he lounges in the woods with you, promising that one day, he’ll let you bite him for real, and bind him to the forest for good. 

[codename-adler]

Sumo passes away half a decade after the Android Revolution.

it’s the greatest grief Connor has ever known. it’s only the second for Hank, because Cole, but Connor’s pain hits him hard. he’s barely into his fifties when they bury Sumo, but Hank’s been thinking about it for a long while. how he’s got less time than Connor. so much less.

Connor has outright admitted, in the past, that his deviancy was brought on by Hank. that if not for Hank, he would not have broken through. it scares Hank, how much meaning he has given to Connor’s life, without even trying. it scares Hank, how deep and dark the android’s grief is. he can’t help but think back to what Kara told Connor a long time ago, before he’d released her and Alice; that there was nothing worth going on for in a world without Alice, and that she would simply cease to exist should she lose the girl.

Hank won’t have that for Connor. as much as he tries to rationalize that he can’t possibly be Connor’s whole world, he’s not an idiot. there’s a reason Connor’s never brought up his fear of losing Hank: that’s because the day Hank passes, there won’t be a next one for Connor either. Hank knows Connor. Connor knows that Hank knows. it’s so simple, really, in Connor’s mind. it’s logical.

it’s stupid, is what it is, in Hank’s opinion. but he gets it. if it hadn’t been for Sumo, after Cole, Hank wouldn’t even be there. and how many times, even, had he come close to ending it all despite his good boy? Hank gets it. he really does. he just won’t have it.

so he gets another dog. a pup, tiny little thing, barely a month old. she was from a litter picked up by another squad of the DPD, after closing down an illegal puppy mill near the city limits. Hank thought it was almost too soon, a year after Sumo, but he also felt a sense of urgency, as if it were already too late.

he brings the little thing back to his desk, hidden in his coat, the baby shivering. he sits down and kept the pup there until Connor comes back to his own desk, back from one of his solo cases. he was just that good, now. flying on his own, respected by all. still he preferred to have Hank by his side. partners through and through.

Connor clocks Hank’s strange posture immediately, as well as an odd heat signature on his chest. alarm bells ring in his head for a millisecond before Hank opens up his coat and motions for Connor to come closer. there it is, the little thing, little dog, small and warm, burrowed into Hank’s chest. it brings Connor to his knees. the sight of it all… the pride in Hank’s eyes, the joy in his smile, his face regaining some youth and losing lines, just because of the small creature, just because he was doing it all for Connor.

Connor rests his forehead on Hank’s knee, trying to hide his tears of both grief and happiness. Hank transfers the little dog into one hand only and uses the other one to card through Connor’s hair. Connor is too curious and overjoyed to hide too long; he lifts his head to look closer at the puppy, in awe. he delicately holds out a finger and brushes it between the baby’s eyes. he loves her instantly. when he looks up at Hank and nods, eyes still watery, Hank holds out the dog to him, insistent, until the little thing lays in Connor’s arms, snug as a bug, for the rest of the work day, then in their car as well, and into their home.

there would only ever be one Hank Anderson, Connor’s Hank; there will never be another Sumo; and this little thing there, she’ll be the only of her kind. but there will always be dogs for Connor to take care of; always another one to move forward for, another one to save, to raise, to love. and technology’s progressed so much more still, no one knows the limits of human and android lives anymore. it’s hard to count the time.

it’s not hard to be in the now, when you’ve got a dog full of life eating at your socks and sofa. and Connor really does like dogs.