#me squinting at this: does this make sense babes?

[tojisun]

toji fisting your shirt while he hits it from the back so that he can manhandle you like a cocksleeve 🍾

[lovebugism]

How about steve with the prompt "You look so hot today, babe." "Hotter than yesterday?" "Hotter than yesterday." 

ty for requesting xoxo — steve always thinks you're pretty (yes, even in granny panties) (established relationship, fluff, 0.6k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Steve knew you loved him the first time he saw you wearing his socks. He knows you love him still because of the underwear you have on.

It’s perhaps the tamest pair of cotton he’s ever seen you in, covering most of your ass and rising high on your waist. You’ve paired it with a freshly washed body, smelling distinctly clean and radiating with the warmth of your scalding shower. Wet hair, small shirt, no bra, bland underwear.

There’s something so emphatically domestic about the combination. Something soft and angelic, diabolically so. You might as well be telling him you love him without saying a damn thing at all.

“Have I told you how hot you look today?” Steve wonders from the center of the bed, curled in the sheets he hasn’t left all day.

“Uh… not since this morning…” you answer distantly where you stand before the mirror of his dresser. You kiss the tin of your chapstick (‘cause you hate putting your finger in it) and then correct yourself. “Actually, no— you said I looked pretty. Not hot.” You flash him a look over your shoulder, bare-faced and pink-lipped. You leer at him lightheartedly. “So you’re slacking today, Harrington.”

“Well, you look really hot today,” he atones with a crooked smile.

“Hotter than yesterday?”

He thinks for a moment, squinted eyes and jutted lips. Then he nods. “Hotter than yesterday.”

“You said that yesterday,” you scoff.

Steve tilts his head on the pillow, honey hair as wild as his eyes. He smiles, lopsided and pink. “Only ‘cause you keep getting hotter.”

“Well, I think it’s because you’re a boy, and you can see my underwear,” you argue half-heartedly. You cross your arms over your chest and angle your hip to the side, thighs rubbing like a harmony. “And now you don’t know what to do with yourself, like a Victorian child who just saw an ankle.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the half of it. But you’re also just pretty.”

Your nose scrunches. “You’re also just pretty, too.”

“C’mere,” he beckons with outstretched arms and grabby-hands. You gravitate towards him without thinking, crawling onto the mattress on your knees. His hands grip your waist the moment you’re in reach, wrenching you around until your back hits the bed. He smiles when you squeal.

The comforter wraps around his waist when he turns to lay over you. He kisses at your pulse, then gets lost in the way you smell. He runs the tip of his nose over the expanse of your throat. The softness of his barely-there touch makes you shudder.

“You smell good,” he mumbles, burying the words into your skin.

“Cozy by the fire,” you say as you twirl your hands in his hair.

“Hm?”

“Cozy by the fire. That’s the soap I use.”

He hums into the nook of your neck. “Mm. That makes sense. You smell all warm,” he mutters and melts further into you. He’s pressed so intently against your body that the rest of his words are nearly inaudible. “I don’t wanna get off you…”

“Then don’t.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you hold him closer to you. Even if he wanted to move, there’s not a world where you let him.

“I’m not crushing you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur into his temple. “But in a good way.”

He laughs against your pulse. Your heart starts to beat with it. “What does that mean?”

“Don’t make fun of me! I just like feeling you.”

Steve figures he knows what you mean. ‘Cause sometimes he gets jealous of your pillow, all green with envy because he can’t be stained with your scent the same way it can. “Fair enough,” he mumbles.

You linger there for a while. Pinned between his body and the mattress, like a flower pressed in the pages of a book.

[lunarlando]

girl dad lando doing his babygirl's hair (she has his curls for sure hehe)!! he struggles a little but does a decent job at the end ~ maybe following a tutorial video or wifey is guiding him but creative freedom to you ❤️

so cute, thanks for the request! x

feel free to request more :)

“You’re in charge of one thing before we have to leave for brunch with your family.” 

Lando glances up from where he's laid out on the carpet tickling a wildly giggling Estelle to see you with your hands on your hips. 

You’re still one of the many shirts of his that you’ve resorted to using as pajamas since your currently seven month pregnant belly has popped, and you’re looking at him very pointedly, but he still smiles fondly at the sight of you. It’s just an unconscious thing that his face does, that it’s been doing since the day he met you. 

“Mama!” Estelle squeals, pointing at you excitedly. 

“Hi, my darling!” You wiggle your fingers at her, beaming at your little girl with enthusiasm.

“What’ve you got for me, babe?” 

“Be the best husband ever and do your daughter’s hair.” 

“Pretty sure I already am the best husband ever, but alright. Reckon her hair looks just fine the way it is, don’t you think?” He aims a sideways glance towards the toddler. Estelle’s hair is an exact replica of her father’s, tight curls that like to do whatever they want, as evident by the tornado of brown framing her chubby cheeks at the moment. Lando smacks his lips together, bobbing his head understandingly. “Yeah, okay, I’ll try my best.” 

“Thank you, love.” 

He scoops Estelle off the floor with an over-exaggerated grunt, climbing to his feet with her slung over his shoulder the way she always loves to be held by him. She shakes with peals of cute toddler giggles, patting him on the back surprisingly firm for a one year old, making him groan. “Woah, you’re getting so big and strong, Stell! C'mon, let’s go do your hair.” 

You press a grateful kiss to his cheek as he passes you, booping Estelle’s nose playfully before they make their way down the hall to the bathroom. 

Lando sets Estelle down on the bathroom counter, squinting at the items you’ve left next to the sink for him. A few combs, a small brush, a tiny water mister thing that he has no idea what to do with. 

As if you sense he’s confused, you call from the bedroom, “D’you need some help getting started?” 

“No, no. I’ve got this,” He calls back, grabbing a comb off the counter. “Dada’s got this, doesn’t he, lovebug?” 

Estelle is too preoccupied with looking at herself in the mirror to hear him, though if she did, she probably would’ve said no. He has no idea how to do her hair. Sure, he knows how to do his own hair (barely), and hers is similar to his, but it’s different. 

He pulls up the photo album he’s got on his phone of pictures of Estelle—ones he’s taken, ones you’ve sent him whilst he was away—hoping one of them will help him draw inspiration for today’s look. 

One that particularly catches his eye is a photo from the mini holiday you all took during summer break a few months ago, where Estelle’s springy curls are pulled into two bunches towards the top of her head. From what he remembers, those bunches quickly ended up smeared with applesauce, but they were adorable while they lasted. 

“Think this might be the one, how ‘bout you?” Lando turns the phone towards Estelle, showing her the photo. She aims a gummy smile at him, wiggling around happily. “Yeah, s’cute, innit? Alright, here we go.”

—

“Babe, would you c’mere for a second?” 

Lando’s voice rings out from the bathroom after twenty minutes of silence, save for the occasional giggle. You’re all done getting ready, and as much as you want to pop your head in to see what’s happening, you’ll give your husband the benefit of the doubt. You pad down the hallway as fast as your pregnancy waddle will let you, not knowing what to expect. 

“How’s it going in here, my loves?” 

Lando stands back with his hands propped on his hips, head tilted. “I think I did pretty decent, no?” 

Estelle’s got two tiny sort of space buns on her head, a little messy, but better than you were expecting, given Lando’s inexperience. She leans in your direction upon laying eyes on you, making grabby hands at you until you scoop her up. You shift her in your arms so she can see herself in the large mirror. 

“Look, baby! Who’s that over there?” You coo encouragingly, pointing at her in the mirror with a big smile. Estelle mumbles something unintelligible, patting herself on the chest happily. “That’s right, it’s you! Dada did a fantastic job with your hair, didn’t he? You look so cute!” 

Lando tosses the comb he’s holding behind his back and up over his shoulder, catching it and pretending to run it through his own curls in one smooth motion. “Call me Stell’s personal professional hairstylist.” 

He’s serious about it too, giving a straight face until you manage to come up with a response. 

“Is the racing not working out for you? Had to find another job?” You joke, chuckling lightly. He scoffs, bumping your hip with his. You reach up to give him a kiss on the cheek, then hold Estelle up too. “Give dada a kiss?” 

Estelle knows the word kiss very well. Execution, not so much, but she tries her best as she plants what has to be the world’s wettest kiss to Lando’s cheek too. A younger Lando might’ve wiped the slobber away immediately, but dad Lando has no problem with it. He’s changed a lot since his younger days, especially since becoming a first time parent. 

You’re both still navigating that journey together, but you’ll have a year and then some more experience once baby girl number two makes her arrival in t-minus two months time. But for now, you’ll cherish every moment with Estelle before your focus is split between two kids. 

“Oh, thank you for the kiss, lovebug!” Lando chirps, booping her nose gently. “Usually I’d charge top dollar for a mint hairdo like this, but I’ll take that as payment since you’re so cute. You get it from your mum, don’t ya?” 

“I dunno about that,” You hum, leaning into him. “Her dad’s pretty cute too.” 

You don’t have it in you to tell him one of Estelle’s bunches sits higher than the other, not when he’s smiling down so proudly at the two of you like you’re his world.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Dating Miguel O’Hara Would Include…

Warnings: Implied Smut, Domestic Miguel !!!, Possessive Miguel, Protective Miguel, Dominant Miguel, Slight Yandere Miguel (if you squint), Fluff, Mild Angst, Hurt/Comfort, No Pronouns used for Reader Except You’.

Miguel being stoic and militant around his associates, but melting into a massive softie when he gets to see you.

His eyes literally light up when he hears you coming. He has to resist the urge to scoop you up into his arms and cuddle you silly whenever he hears you call his name, your tones music to his ears, his heart thrumming – harpstrings.

Golden retriever boyfriend to the MAX.

He brings you breakfast in bed whenever he’s awake before you – which is often considering his vampiric nature. And he looks so proud of himself when he cooks a good meal, too. Literally just a beaming, teeth-filled, closed-eye smile when you tell him he’s “Done such a good job, Babe !”

Any kind of praise sends him absolutely wild, so use it sparingly. It can either get you out of or into a world of trouble; especially if you're trying to get Miguel hot under the collar.

Miguel’s love language is, simply put, everything.

The adoration that swells in his chest whenever he thinks of you manifests as him throwing himself into your service.

He does anything and everything you ask of him, no matter how extravagant or nominal the request is. And everything you don’t.

He isn’t stingy with his words, either; he tells you how much he loves you whenever you’re alone, often coming up behind you and sliding his arms around your front, resting his head on your shoulder and breathing deeply.

He presses soft, careful kisses into the crook of your neck, making sure to keep his fangs from pinching you, inhaling your warmth, your scent.

“I love you.” His heart drums into your back. His lips capture your skin again. “I love you,” And again. “I live for you.” And again.

He’s lived with a lifetime of regret for not being able to protect those he held dear; he won’t allow you to go without knowing the extent of his adoration for you. Not when he feels he never truly got to show his family – his ghosts – how much he loved them.

On a lighter note, Miguel LOVES having his hair played with; just card your fingers through his locks and he’s as good as incapacitated.

After a rough day, he crawls into bed and lays his head in your lap or on your chest, his body winding down in your soft embrace.

He lowkey moans when you catch his sensitive spot, his brows knotting together, his voice coming out as a rasped whisper.

He knows when you’re purposely trying to get him worked up, though. And he doesn’t stand for it.

“Careful Darling,” he glowers, the phantom sensation of you tugging his hair a half-weight on his senses. He cracks an eye open, his wine irises peaking out beneath heavy lids.

“Or I won’t be so gentle when it’s my turn to take care of you.”

Miguel prefers private displays of affection over public displays of affection; he doesn’t want his subordinates knowing he’s gone soft.

But, there are exceptions to this principle.

Like if Miguel’s feeling particularly hot and desperate, by which point he whisks you away to the bathroom and the two of you aren’t seen for a good hour or so. Usually longer.

The other exception is if he’s feeling jealous or possessive, by which point his sensibilities have vacated his mind and he’s right behind you, his hands on your waist, your shoulders – anywhere he can hold you. Or, he’s filling your mouth with his tongue and your ear with his words if the other party present doesn’t get the hint that you’re taken.

“You’re mine,” he rasps, his breath hot, prickling your skin, the tips of his fang drawing goosebumps. Miguel’s eyes shine an ocean red, dark and unknown. He has you caged, arms encompassing you entirely.

“And I’ll never let anyone take you from me.”

Speaking of; Miguel is incredibly possessive.

Years of rumination and a history of scattered failures make for a very territorial man. And it shows.

He keeps his hands on you whenever you’re together or in the presence of someone he thinks can steal you from him; someone better than him.

He stares down at them until they fumble or leave; whichever prevails first. After which point, when you’re alone, he turns you round to look at him and just stares at you like ����.

The epitome of ‘Babe you pushed my leg off you while you were asleep; do you still love me ???’

You have to reassure him when things like this occur. Take him by the face and hold him gently in your hands; press a soft kiss to his lips and call him your “One and only,”

Doing so is a one-way ticket to a very long night.

Possessive, heartfelt, grasping, gasping love-making.

Miguel can’t stop until your bottom half is numb and the only thing you’re capable of thinking and saying is his name.

Of course, he rewards you for your endurance after the fact.

Aftercare king right here <333

Treats you like you’re glass; he runs you a bath, brings you your favourite drink and changes the bedsheets.

And, when you’re fast asleep and curled up into his chest, his heart flutters, and, for the first time in his life, he feels that he has stability. Pure, unconditional, everlasting love.

And he’ll sooner dismantle the multiverse himself than let anyone or anything take that from him.

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Lookalike (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Inside the highest tower of the Red Keep, lives a girl with long silver hair...

Warnings: Oh man. What a trip. Rapunzel, innocence kink, daddy issues, cursing, mature language. Light groping, kissing. Daemon, and all his usual warnings. Manipulation. I tried to make it whimsical. You know, a fairy tale.

Requested: Yup. For the bingo. Daemon + retelling of another story. Posted it early because I couldn't sleep last night so I stayed up finishing this.

Once upon a time, in a far away land called Westeros, lived a King and a Queen. The Queen was a beautiful woman, with hair made of spun silver and gold.

The King and the Queen had a daughter, a bright girl called Rhaenyra. They loved her deeply, but as many powerful men behind him, the King could not help but wish for a son.

When the Queen had carried Rhaenyra, her pregnancy had been harsh. She had struggled to fall with child, and when she had, she had been sick the whole time. The Queen was not too sure if she could withstand another pregnancy.

“My love, I need my heir.” The King said to her. “You must help me and try again.”

“But husband, you know we cannot. The Maester said pregnancies were too rough on me."

“If I can't have my heir, I fear I will lose my throne!”

So the Queen decided to try again. Soon, she was with child. Yet, the Queen could feel something was different, this time. She got twice as large as she was when she was carrying Rhaenyra, her body ached even more. Only the hottest baths could soothe her abundant pains.

“This pregnancy is not normal, not normal at all.” Said the Maester, when examining the Queen. “I fear the delivery will be hard.”

And hard it was. For there was not one baby but two. A girl and a boy, a moon and a sun. The parents only found out when the Queen was unable to deliver the baby, and the King, believing it to be his precious heir, ordered the Maester to cut her open.

Wailing into the world they came, shrieks so loud they rose half the Red Keep. Every bell in the city was toiling for them. The King named his heir Baelon. The girl, the little moon, was forgotten. That was you.

Too young to know it then, your first hours were spent in your sister's arms, both of you forgotten in favor of the new heir. But it was barely hours at all when your little brother passed away.

At the funeral, the King was the picture of despair. His Queen was dead by his hand, his heir lasted no longer than a day. Now a father to a baby girl he didn’t know how to care for, and an unruly maiden.

Perhaps, sensing his despair and hoping to offer some words of comfort, and Arryn cousin took you from him and gasped:

“By the Sevens! If she is the very image of Aemma as a babe.” No one took in consideration that this Arryn cousin was not, in fact, older than the Queen.

“Is she?” The King asked, on the verge of tears. Your father could not stop remembering your mother’s face, as the Maester aided your entrance into the world. Her cries haunted him even in his sleep. He was turning into a decaying corpse, from inside out, guilt rotting him alive. “Rhaenyra, come here.”

“Father?”

“Does she look like your mother?”

Your sister squinted at you. You yawned, a toothless, sweet thing. Rhaenyra wasn't very knowledgeable about babes, but she liked you. You had grabbed into her finger the first time you had seen her, tiny fingers turning into the most adorable rings.

“She has her beauty.” She answered, politely. The King hummed, an idea sparkling into his head. Soon, the highest tower in the Red Keep was being repurposed, and the Hand relocated.

Nine and ten years later, that brings us to you, in a continent named Westeros. Inside it, Seven Kingdoms. Inside them, a city called King's Landing. Inside the city is a castle. In the castle, a tower. In the tower is a room. In the room, a girl. You.

You stared at your reflection, squaring your shoulders. You gave yourself a big smile.

“Father, I want to try claiming a dragon.” You repeated to the mirror, before shaking your head. “No, no. Too disrespectful. Lord Father, I was wondering if I could go and try to claim a dragon?”

The reflection did not answer. You frowned. You didn't like groveling, but you weren't too sure of what else you could do. Perhaps, sending him a note would be better.

As the youngest sister of the heir to the Iron Throne, you had led a sheltered life. Even more so, as the spitting image of his late wife, according to your father. When looked in the right light, your eyes were the same shade hers had been. And the way you spoke did resemble the short, clipped speech of the Vale.

No one dared question those things, even though your accent had been ensured by your father by providing you with tutors only from that region. The King was very protective of you, set on expiating his guilt over the death of your mother by ensuring your safety.

All of your care had been provided by him after her death. Viserys knew nothing about child-rearing, but refused to let any servant touch you beyond the wet nurse. You grew into a child, and your father didn't even know how to cut your long, silver hair.

Years passed, and soon you learned to take care of yourself. Used to long hair as you were, you never thought about cutting it. Instead, your mind was preoccupied with more urgent matters. For example, how could you get out of the Red Keep.

Sometimes, your father's protection turned overbearing. Unlike your older sister, you were not allowed to leave the castle. Nor had you been allowed to partake in the activities other young ladies did. The only way you had managed to know the world around you had been through your books and observations.

Your rooms were in the tallest tower in the Red Keep, ensuring you would be kept safe from intruders and even invaders, if such a thing ever came to pass. You had double the guards Rhaenyra and Viserys did. Instead of providing his new Queen with a sworn shield, he had chosen to devote all the Kingsguard to you.

While you knew your tower had been used for other things before, it had clearly been refurnished. Now, it worked as a castle of its own, inside which you had a tiny kitchen, bathing quarters, rooms, and a library. The idea was that you would never need anything outside it. A tiny universe, just for you. You had plenty of space for your books and trinkets, but it made for a lonely existence.

Each time there were unknown men roaming the Keep, you got sent back to your tower. Your father didn't like the idea of you being married off or corrupted by them. You were too precious, too good. He had said that when the day came, he would find you a good match. One that, you suspected, would keep you close to home. Perhaps Aegon, or one of your cousins in the Vale.

If you married at all, of course. Your father had gone through a phase of encouraging your faith in the Seven, in the hopes of you deciding to be a Septa. If you did, the King would be most pleased, for it would mean you would never suffer the same fate as your mother.

You wanted neither. What you wanted more than anything was to see the world, do the things Rhaenyra told you happened outside the Red Keep. And according to you, it would all get started if you got your own dragon.

With a dragon, you would be protected. Your father always used your lack of one as an argument for denying you the experiences ladies your age had. Your egg had not hatched, but if you claimed one, you would surely be allowed to leave.

Unfortunately, what was required to be able to bond with a dragon had been deemed too dangerous for you. King Viserys had banned you from the dragon pit, arguing that dragons could be unpredictable.

Today, you had been sent back to your tower due to an impromptu visit from your Uncle Daemon. You knew the man by reputation only, by how much he angered your father. If there was one person who you were prohibited from speaking to, it was him.

You had heard the rumors, of course. A few years back, after your mother's passing, he had taken Rhaenyra to a pleasure house. Whatever had happened inside was between her and him. To your father, though, it was enough to keep you away from him.

Smile. Square your shoulders. Try again to assert yourself. You eyed your reflection once again, wondering how you could convince the King to let you try to get a dragon. Outside, something scraped against a rock, again and again. Curious, you went to the window.

On the very base of your tower, there was a man hopelessly attempting to climb upwards. He was very dashing, sporting the same silver hair you did, only much shorter.

“Who are you?” You asked, slightly frightened. In truth, you were not used to strangers being so close to you. Your father always said men were dangerous, and that outside the Red Keep there were aberrant creatures, mean and ruthless, that hurt young maidens for their enjoyment. “Step away from my tower, or I shall call my guards!”

The man ignored you, choosing instead to stab a sword between the rocks that made up your tower. You screamed, alarmed.

“Stop that! That's not allowed, you are damaging my tower.”

The man ignored you, trying to use his sword to climb. He grunted in exertion. You ran towards your chambers and filled a jar with water. Then, you ran back to your window and dumped it on his head.

The man shrieked and fell down the few meters he had managed to progress. You laughed, startled.

“Aren't you a fearsome thing?” He muttered to himself. Then, he looked up at you, with the most purple eyes you had ever seen. “Please, Princess. Help me out.”

“Why should I? You are an intruder.” You glared down at him, not even entertaining the notion, but deciding to play along regardless. In truth, you were curious about him. And starved for companionship.

“I am being chased.” He screamed up at you, frantically looking behind him. “Please, help me.”

You leaned down towards your window, bracing your arms on the edge of it.

“Bad business, that.” Your voice was cheery and woefully uninterested. This was the most exciting that had happened to you in years, you were not about to stop it. But at the same time, you did remember all of your father's warnings. There were people out there that were not kind.

“Damn it, you are just like Aemma. Pair of cynics.” He cursed, and started to try to retrieve his sword. Your eyebrows raised.

“You knew my mother?”

The man looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand. He squinted at you. His bone structure reminded you of someone.

“I did.”

Your mother. A cynic. You smiled. No one had ever told you about her, not beyond all those polite things everyone said about the dead. How kind she was, how beautiful and learned. It did nothing to make you feel closer to her, these empty platitudes. They were generic, they could be talking about any woman.

Your father never went beyond that, either. The Aemma he talked about was an idolized version of her, a woman frozen into a perfect state of likeness to the Mother. He didn't allow anyone to contradict him, not even Rhaenyra. When you were younger, she had told you your mother had been hesitant about having another pregnancy, and struggling to carry another baby to term. Your father had banned her from visiting you during the next six moons.

But this stranger was speaking of her as if he knew her well. Your heart ached to know more about your mother, know the real her. It was enough to help you make your choice. You gathered your hair and threw it down the window.

“Come up then.” You ordered.

The man looked at the mass of hair in bewilderment. He touched a strand of it, fascinated by the way it picked up the light. He did not move.

“Use it as rope. You won't hurt me.” Were all men so dumb? Surely, if this one was so slow, he could not be a threat.

“Of course. Magic hair. Fucking Viserys.” The man started to climb. He got quickly inside, panting with exertion.

“You know my father, too?” Your body tensed. This, you did not like. What if he was one of the men that were supposed to visit the castle today? One of those who corrupted and hurt young maidens?

Your heart started to beat harder and harder. You tried to convince yourself he might not be a bad man. Perhaps, he had met the King through your mother. Regardless, you turned away from him, keeping your voice and posture deceivingly calm.

“Would you like some water?” You did not wait for an answer, starting to move towards the kitchen. You reached into a cabinet, as if searching for a cup.

The man followed. You could hear his footsteps on the stone floor.

“I do know your father.” His voice was strange. As if he were realizing he was making a mistake but couldn't pinpoint why. Uninterested, you took out a cup. “He is a great King.” He added, hurriedly. Just in time for you to grab a pan, turn and smack it against his head as hard as you could.

The man dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. You hiked up your skirts and rushed to his side. Kneeling by him, you took a closer look at his sword and grinned. You had seen it before. In your books. That was Dark Sister, Visenya's sword.

You had caught Daemon Targaryen. What better proof to show your father that you were not helpless? You tied him to a chair and gagged him for good measure. Then, you pushed him inside your bathing quarters. Only then did you call for a guard.

“Could you summon my father? I need him.” The guard bowed, but didn't speak. Most of them didn't. Your father said they weren't allowed to.

Despite not receiving an answer, you knew your father would be here soon. He always came when you called. You placed a kettle in the fire. Before it could boil, King Viserys was already there.

“Dear.” The King kissed your forehead. You tried not to wrinkle your nose at the smell of herbs and milk of the poppy. Your father always smelled like a medicine cabinet. “As beautiful as your mother, like always.”

You smiled.

“Father. Tea is not ready yet, but sit.” You pointed to your small parlor. When you were a child, the two of you had used to pretend you were a great lady, hosting tea parties there. It had been how he had taught you courtly manners.

The memory was bittersweet. Your father was good to you. He had raised you as best as he could, loving you more fiercely than any of his other children. It was not your intention to upset him, but you knew this topic would do exactly that.

“Were you lonely, my heart?” The King settled on one of the loveseats. You sat across from him.

“I did miss you.” You gave him a coy little look. “But I asked you to come for something else.”

“Do tell.”

“Father. I think I am ready to claim a dragon.” You rushed to say, almost tripping over your words. Already, you could see how his expression was clouding over, a storm raging behind his eyes.

“You know you are not.” The King answered, sternly. “It's too dangerous.”

“I can handle myself.” You fought for your tone to remain even. If it came out too angered, your father would say you were hysteric or having a tantrum, and refuse to take you seriously. So was the curse of being a woman.

“My heart, you have never stepped out of this tower.”

And you had not. But what did dragons care about one's knowledge of the world? You had read about dragons bonding with babes, sharing their cradle with them. To claim one, being well traveled or wise was not required. One had to be chosen, that was all.

You raised your hands in the air, palms up, as if placating a beast.

“I don't want you to get upset, Father. I wanted to prove to you that I am capable, too.” You got up and opened the door to your bathing quarters. “Do not be scared.”

The bound Daemon was still gagged, inside the tub. This time, though, he was awake. Upon seeing his brother, he immediately started screeching and squirming, making up a ruckus.

“Shh.” You said to him, kicking the tub a little. He was turning out to be a very annoying guest. “As you can see, Father, I caught him.”

“And you put him in the tub.” The King said, perplexed.

“He was dripping water all over my floors.” But your explanations fall on deaf ears, since your father has already moved on from his shock. He grabbed Daemon's shirt, forcing him to sit upright.

“Haven't I told you this tower is out of limits?” The King barked at him. “I will throw you into the deepest, more dark and humid dungeon I can find, and then I will…”

“Father.” You did not like being ignored. Daemon was a secondary concern, you just wanted to know if you were allowed out now.

Yet, your father seems to think the issue was an entirely different thing.

“Oh. Sorry, dear. What father meant is that Uncle Daemon has been very bad.” He gave him a shake for good measure.

“I can tell.” Your tone was flat. “Have I proven myself enough to be allowed to try to claim a dragon?”

The King let go of Daemon. He turned towards you and tenderly started checking you over for injuries.

“I would die if something happened to you.” He answered, evasive. You didn't need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. It was too dangerous. It was a no.

Five more long days went by. Poor you, having to stay all day in your tower. After Daemon, your father had now deemed it too dangerous to allow you to roam the Red Keep. It was the tower and nothing more. All you could do was sing Old Valyrian songs and look out the windows. Sometimes, birds would chirp from above, and you would feel slightly better, as if they were singing with you.

Perhaps it had been your song, what had led him to you. Perhaps it had been his own guilty consciousness for a sin long forgotten, or a sliver of empathy for the lonely girl in the tower up above. Whatever it was, before the sixth day came to an end, Daemon appeared under your window.

“Princess, Princess, let your hair down.” You heard him say. You walked to your window, curiously. Daemon was back!

“Come down if you want to be free.” The Prince ordered. “I do not have much time.”

His words stilled you. Freedom. Your father often said freedom was a dangerous thing. If you let people make their own choices, it was much more likely that they would choose unwisely. That was why you were kept in the tower, safe from the world and bad decisions. As long as King Viserys controlled your life, you would be protected.

But what if you left? What if you ran, jumped out of your tower and made your way to Dragonstone to get your dragon? You imagined a version of yourself, dress fluttering in the wind like a flag as you ran, barefooted in the sand. You imagined yourself feeling the sun in your face, having your first cup of mead or watching a parade.

Then you imagined yourself tripping and falling into the sea. You didn't know how to swim. No one saw the need to teach you such a thing. You imagined yourself at the parade, getting robbed. You imagined a man, trying to hurt you. What if people out there, what if Daemon, were truly as wretched as your father said they were?

Your face must have shown your distress because Daemon, impatient, shouted something more.

“I won't hurt you.” The Prince raised his hands in surrender. “I will not tell you I am a good man, but I will take you to Dragonstone.”

His honesty was what sealed the deal. You threw your hair down, grabbed one of your warmest cloaks, and shouted for him to loop your hair around a branch and not let go.

Daemon obeyed. You jumped, and as your feet hit the floor, you wished to be able to say you didn't look back. But you did. And as you saw the silhouette of your tower getting smaller and smaller in the distance, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness deep in your chest.

Noticing how quiet you have gotten, Daemon adjusts your cloak and gives you a grin.

“Do you want to ride Caraxes?” He asks. You match his grin, sadness nearly forgotten. There is a whole world out here, begging to be explored. You can be sad later when the adventure ends.

Caraxes is the most bewitching creature you have ever seen. He is red and serpentine, looking so much like the drawings of dragons you used to do as a child. You nearly scream in excitement.

Daemon whispers to him to stay calm, but Caraxes seems to sense your happiness, for he keeps trying to correspond your loving pets.

“Oh, by the Seven Hells.” The Prince pushes you towards the saddle. “If neither of you stop the tail wagging, we are going to get caught.”

“And we don't want that.” You agree, kissing Caraxes' scales one last time.

Caraxes gives another excited, full-body wag. He seems to be preening under the attention. Daemon must not praise him very much, which is a shame.

“You are such a good boy. So pretty, too.”

Caraxes preens even more. It makes his body shake, tail hitting against the floor in an ominous beat. Daemon groans.

“Enough, enough.” The Prince grabs you by the waist and gets you up in the saddle. You shriek in laughter. Caraxes appears to be happy about it, too, since he starts spreading his wings. “We are going to get caught.”

Daemon jumps into the saddle, hugging you tightly to him. You squirm, unused to the closeness of another human being. When your father and Rhaenyra touch you, it's never like this.

Daemon feels overwhelming, in the best kind of way. His chest is firm, and his smell surrounds you. His arms around your waist hold you tight, but remain loose enough to not hurt you. Your hips fit snugly against his, and make something you can't yet name stir in your lower belly.

It's different. It's strange. You want it to stop. Why do you feel so nervous, as if Caraxes was suddenly dropping down and not barely getting ready to fly?

“Soves, Caraxes.” Daemon orders, careful not to scream in your ear. “Are you alright, little Princess?”

You cease your squirming, hoping that he doesn't notice whatever is different with you.

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“You keep squirming as if there were ants inside your bodice. Are you uncomfortable?” The Prince snickers by your ear, pressing a soft kiss right by the top of it. What happens next is impossible to hide. Your body gives a shiver, all of your hairs standing up. The sensation is as confusing as it is pleasant.

“My stomach feels funny.” You complain, knowing that it isn't exactly that, but close enough that he probably won't question it.

“Funny how?” Daemon kisses behind your ear. You make a hurt, confused noise. You have been kissed before, but never there. In your experience, kisses are not this devastating.

“Funny.” You refuse to elaborate because while naive, you are not dumb. This must be precisely why your father wanted you away from men. If they were able to inflict so much pleasure, it was no wonder why maidens let them do whatever they wanted to them.

“Does it hurt, little Princess?” One of his palms goes to your lower stomach, pressing slightly. “Here?”

You squirm. So he definitely knows.

“Yes.”

“Hurts? Or…?” Daemon's hand goes dangerously low, nearly pressing between the parting of your legs. You squirm more. He brushes something that makes you jolt, delighted.

“We shouldn't.” You answer. It would be much more convincing if you were not relaxing into him. He laughs right in your ear, but retracts his hand.

Even with his hands away from your most sensitive areas, you still feel worked up. Your bodice is too rough against your skin, the way Caraxes moves under both of you makes the area between your legs tingle.

You keep your eyes firmly on the sky in front of you. As it starts to change into pinks and yellows, the feeling ebbs and starts to fade. You feel sleepy, so you recline more against Daemon. A tiny yawn escapes you.

“Tired?” Daemon brushes your hair back, much more tenderly than your father would. With your father, the touch is always harsher, more possessive. As if he is always grasping to the last threads of Aemma he can hold. With Daemon, it feels like he is actually touching you.

You hum, soft and sweet.

“Sleep, little one.” He kisses your cheek. “I'll wake you up when we get there.”

The next time you wake up, it is in an unknown bedroom. At first, you panic. The canopy over the bed looks too similar to the one in your tower, and you wonder if perhaps you dreamed it all. Daemon, Caraxes, the flight, your feelings. Then, you get even more scared because the more you look, the more you realize this is not your room.

You get out of bed. You are still dressed in the same dress you were wearing earlier, but your shoes are gone. The door is closed. Fear grips at you. What if Daemon has sold you to someone evil and rotten, as your father says people outside the Red Keep are? What if he is the evil man?

You rush to the door. It opens easily. There is a hallway that looks much like the ones in the Red Keep, but there is no one there. You scream in fear.

Another of the doors opens in the hallway. Daemon, in a sleeping shirt and breeches, runs out.

“Princess!” He hurries to your side. You are crying, you realize, as he wipes away some of your tears. “What is it?”

“I woke up alone, and I didn't recognize…” You sob, softly.

“Oh, little girl.” Daemon scoops you in his arms. “I should have thought of that. I am so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you look at him, eyes swollen from your crying.

The world had impressed you during the day, but now that the night had fallen, and you found yourself in an unknown castle, you were afraid. What if there were monsters lurking in the hallways? Or if you needed something? What if someone hurt you?

“I do not want to go back there. I am scared.” You rubbed your eyes. Your hands dug into his arm, not wanting to let go of him.

“Do you wish me to keep you company while you fall back asleep?” Daemon asked, gently smoothing your hair down. You must look a mess, and would find it embarrassing were it not for the fact that being alone in such a big place terrifies you. At this point, you would do anything to keep him here.

“Please.” No more words are needed. Daemon doesn't want you to beg, nor does he want anything in exchange. It's comforting.

One of his hands goes to your shoulder blades, leading you back to the room. Daemon tucks you in and sits by your side.

“I'll stay until you fall asleep.” He says, smoothing down your frown with the gentlest touch. Daemon starts to hum in High Valyrian, softly. You know the melody. It's about flames and burning together. Almost against your will, your eyelids start to drop.

“Don't… Don't want you to go.” Your body feels so heavy, as if sinking into the mattress. With great effort, you manage to curl your fingers around one of his.

“Oh, Princess.” He says, interlacing your hands.

“Stay.” You order.

Daemon lets go of your hand, and you whine, awake instantly. You go to sit up, but he shushes you.

“Shh. I am just… Let me.” He slides under the covers, behind you. You close your eyes, trying to relax against him. It's no hardship at all. Now that the candles have been blown, the light is low and Daemon feels so warm against you.

He starts to trace your features. Finger meets brow, temple, cheek. Thumb brushes nose, then lips. Idly, so very idly, his voice mutters near your ear.

“How many mouths has yours kissed?”

The question startles you. You suppose there is no harm in telling him, yet there is a tinge of embarrassment over it, too. It has finally dawned on you what this new, uncomfortable, thrilling feeling is. Desire. You lust after Daemon.

“I have…” You answer, softly. You do not dare speak it out loud. Not when you rather know exactly how far the two of you are. “How about you?”

“I have lost count. Twenty, perhaps more so.” Daemon says it so casually, as if it did not matter at all. But to you, it does. What are you, compared to this man? How could you want him in such a manner, having so little to offer?

“What makes it special, then?” There has to be a reason for him to bother with kissing all these people. Perhaps, to him, all kisses feel as devastating as his does to you.

“The person, I would gather.” The Prince answers, softly rubbing your back as one would do to help a child fall asleep. You frown. It does make sense. You know what love is, after all. Being in love with someone, or at least desiring them, must make it special.

You would like to kiss him, you think. Daemon is handsome, and his touch does not feel as damning as other's do. He has already provided you with pleasure, even if unknowingly.

You make a wish, then. For your first kiss to be special, with someone you like and that knows what they are doing. If not Daemon, at least someone like that.

“Was your first special?” You ask, curious.

“No. She was terrible. Sharp teeth and all.” Daemon moves your hair aside, exposing your neck. You barely get any warning before he is taking a bite out of your nape. For a playful gesture, it's oddly painful. Your body tenses, and you try to fight it, but Daemon's hands are like a vice around your waist. “Like this.”

With no other choice, you ride it out. Pain is nearly unfamiliar to you, beyond small cuts or painful cycles. It's scorching red and hot, making you break into a sweat. Daemon forces you to take, and take, gently holding your hands in his. It's only after that you go limp under him, twitching slightly, that he lets up.

The aftermath of pain is sweet, you learn. Daemon kisses around the painful bite and blows a raspberry behind your ear. Now that he has let go of your nape, you find out that the pain was not so bad. You are not even bleeding.

“You are such a good girl.” Daemon praises. “So strong. I'm so proud of you.”

You preen as if you were Caraxes, delighted to make him feel proud of you. Daemon smiles against your temple, as if amused by you, and presses a little kiss there. It’s so tender, and so loving, a sharp contrast to his earlier behavior. It makes you feel as if you were once again on dragonback.

“Could you kiss me?” The words escape out of your mouth, without any real thinking. You know they are the wrong thing to say as soon as they leave your mouth.

Daemon pulls away from you. A hurt, confused noise leaves your throat, hands desperately searching back for his warmth.

“Oh, little Princess.” Daemon mutters, tone full of regrets. “I should not.”

“Why not?” You complain. You are not used to being denied so. The only times others do not bend to your will, you get what you want by your own means. Case in point, leaving your tower. Your father had said no, so you had ensured it happened by other means.

“I have done…. What I have done to you, why I took you…” Suddenly, it is as if an icy hand has taken hold of your throat and started to suffocate you. Betrayal settles over your features, overpowering it all.

“You are only doing this to piss off my father.” You say, shocked. Daemon raises his hands, trying to interrupt you, but you halt him with an imperious wave. “You had no intention of taking me to the dragons. You sought to ruin my reputation, as you did Rhaenyra's.”

“No, Princess, no.” Daemon shakes his head. You get up from the bed, angered. He does not try to stop you. “I swear I didn't mean for anything untoward to happen.”

“I bet you said that back then, too.” You retort. You have half a mind to do something crazy. To grab the fire poker and smash his head with it, to set the whole place on fire. You want to make him hurt.

“I… I did mean to anger your father.” Daemon admits, still trying to placate you. It only makes you wish to scream and scream and never stop. “But I do think it is a shame not to let you even try. Dragons are your birthright. Denying you is unnatural.”

You glare at him. You are unconvinced of the truthfulness of his words. Your father was right. You were unprepared for the world, and it couldn't show more. Daemon has tricked you as easily as if he were taking candy from a babe.

“I'll take you there regardless. I promised to.” His eyes are pleading, but you do not wish to hear him, or see him any longer. Instead, you sit in front of the vanity and look at yourself.

The long, silver hair. The scared eyes. The night, the first you have of freedom, is spent utterly cold and miserable. You stare at yourself and stare at yourself until you think you are going mad.

Daemon does not say a word. He doesn't leave the room, either. Perhaps he falls asleep at some point, perhaps he does not.

You look at your reflection again. You look at your hair. Silver, like his. The lovely color Daemon loves so much. Long, and braided back, flaunting your maidenhood and youth. Forever your father's little girl, never allowed to grow, to love, to lust.

A braid that long won't allow you to claim a dragon. You are more likely to set yourself on fire or trip on it. It's that thought that gives you the determination needed to do what needs to be done.

In the first drawer of the vanity there are a few miscellaneous ribbons. There is also a pair of scissors. You grab it, and grab your braid. You chop it off. As it falls from your shoulder, you feel a weight lift off from you. No longer your nape is heavy with the weight of all these expectations laying on you.

There is a woman staring at you, from the mirror. She looks like she is getting ready for war, eyes alight with determination. You stare at the contours of her face, mesmerized by what you see. All traces of Aemmas's ghost are gone from your reflection. You look more like yourself than you have ever done.

Daemon is up at sunrise. He may have been watching you chop all your hair off and expose the lovely bite mark that now mars the skin of your nape. He may have been sleeping. Whatever it is, he doesn't say a word about your change of appearance, choosing instead to dress in silence.

“Off we go.” He says, briskly, leading you out of the castle. Daemon points to a hill in the distance. “But after that, you are on your own.”

You are suddenly filled with doubt, the determination you had felt when looking in the mirror dissipating under the morning light. Your stomach clenches. Your legs are sore, unused to the exercise of riding. The bite on your neck burns.

"I do not feel ready to claim a dragon.” You say to him, as you get closer and closer to the hill. You feel like a fool. What if your father is right? What if you end this escapade with nothing to show but a ruined reputation?

“You are.” Daemon answers, barely paying attention. It makes you angry beyond belief. To make your mood known, you stomp over a few leaves, grinding them to dust under your heel. Ugh. Why were you looking to him for reassurance in the first place? It was not like Daemon wanted to help you. He just wanted to make himself feel less guilty over trying to cause a scandal and kill your father from the fright.

“I am not.” It’s almost as if you can hear the voice of your father in your head, telling you exactly why no dragon would bond with you. You are a fool, you are a little girl, you…

“You are a Targaryen.” Daemon interrupts your trail of thought with a squeeze to your nape. Right over the bite. It makes your knees nearly buckle. “You were born ready.”

“But what if it isn't enough? What if they see me, and don't want me? I am not brave, like Rhaenyra, or cunning like you or learned like my father. ”

“They will.” Daemon says. “Because you are strong here.” He taps your sternum. “And your father is a fool for not seeing it.”

You look at him. Past the guilt, past the acting up to get your father's attention. His eyes are nervous, but they hold the same steely determination yours had earlier. Daemon believes in you, you realize. You look up at the hill and think to yourself, it is time to see if you can claim a second dragon.

[princessbrunette]

i want jj to try and teach me to play some horror video game but everytime i jump in his lap and unintentionally grind into him, he’s just losing interest and slowing become preoccupied with touching all up on me instead of focusing on the game

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“why is it so dark?” you giggle, guiding the character you’d picked out through the abandoned hospital. it takes jj a moment to respond, because his eyes are located on the way you’re split open on his lap— tiny booty shorts doing very little to contain the globes of your ass, the perfect outline of your pussy pressed directly to his bulge through his basketball shorts.

“uh,” he scratches his head behind his ear, forcing his eyes back onto the screen. “you can pull out a flashlight, press square.” he instructs, feeling the weight of your head drop to look down at the controller in your hands before successfully demonstrating what needed to be done on screen.

“yay!” you chirp, shifting around on his lap forcing your crotch to slightly grind against his— yet you were too focused to acknowledge it. jj on the other hand winces, playing it off as a cough as he pushes himself up a little higher, having sank down into the couch.

“uh-huh, yep — good job babe.” he congratulates, whipping his hat off for a second to run a hand through his hair. you’re locked in, wide eyes staring at the screen.

“oh god, i’m scared.” you moan as your character pushes open double doors into a dark hallway. your body tenses up in fear and he swears he can feel you clenching, the fabric of your shorts so thin that each pulse and movement can be felt through his own.

“you got it.” he drawls lazily, accepting his fate as he can’t control the boner he feels forming beneath you. he lulls his head back against the couch, once hand still placed lazily on your hip as he awaits the scolding for distracting you whilst playing the game. it doesn’t come, instead — the suspenseful silence is replaced by a loud crash on the screen and your squeal, jumping on his lap. you fidget, practically rocking back and forth on his growing bulge as you panic, slamming your fingers into buttons and nearly breaking the joystick on the damn controller to get out of there as soon as possible.

“oh my god, oh my god!” you pant, whimpering in fear sounding uncannily similar to how you do when you’re close.

“my thoughts exactly.” he strains, eyes squinted as he tries to hold you still — damn near cumming in his pants. it’s only when your character is back to safety, you crane your neck around with a proud grin at your own skills in the video game. as your senses return to you, you give a little wiggle and a frown appears on your face, doe eyes blinking at him innocently.

“uh, hey there mama.” he greets awkwardly lifting up a hand.

“are you hard, jayj?” you mewl quietly and he winces through his teeth, pushing himself to sit up a little higher and reaching between your layers to finally adjust himself in his shorts, caught out.

“look, i… promise you i wasn’t plannin’ on that happening it’s just— you sat on me and it was fine but then you started movin’ around n’stuff— and then there was the whimperin’ and my dick was like BOOM. good morning— y’know?” he gestures, scratching beneath his nose nervously. you climb off, only to restraddle him front on.

“why didn’t you tell me? would have stopped playing the game and started playing with you.” you smile sweetly, beginning to grind down on him. his jaw drops, releasing an exhale he felt liked he’d been holding forever— hands sliding up your body to touch your torso all over.

“god damn… i — uh, i’ll make a note of that. for next time.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[ghastlyfilters]

Pleeease write some headcanons of Art trying to cheer up a GN reader who's stressed over school/work/etc. 🥺🥺🥺 pretty please 🤧🤍🙂‍↕️

art with a s/o who’s struggling with work!!

pairings; implied art the clown x gn reader

warnings; mentions of violence (this is what ya get when your fictional crush is a murderer babe 😔) stress, and gotta add in fluff

gifs made by me!! :)

THE HEADCANONS:

• If there’s one thing about Art that everyone should know by now, is that he is INCREDIBLY curious. However, when it comes to anyone studying, this man is bored out of his little clown mind.

• He thrives off your happiness when you’re in a good mood, but when you’re stressed.. Art’s kinda at a loss..

• Despite Art absolutely living for other people’s misery, seeing you so stressed actually freaks him out in a sense. He’s a ticking time bomb. And his brain can’t handle shit when your brain also cannot handle shit 😭

• His horn’s practically his best buddy at this point, and if it cheers him up, it’ll maybe cheer you up? Right?

…. Right??

• Yeah, him honking his horn in your ear whilst you were trying to study your ass off did not seem to sit well with you. When you told him to stop, he gave you that sassy judgemental look, raising one drawn on brow. He knows the power he has over you. Art could’ve honked that fucking horn all day if he liked. It’s not as if you could stop him.

• But.. your boyfriend has respect for you.. sometimes. And he did in fact stop honking his horn whenever he noticed that you were studying.

• Art is awake literally ever single hour of the day. He doesn’t necessarily need to sleep, he more so sort of lounges around. But he can sleep if he really wants to. This makes him literally ideal for going out and getting you food if you’re up at three in the morning studying.

• He did it so much now that you didn’t even ask anymore. You’d be up in the early hours of the morning on your macbook, and Art was already out the door. He could care less if anyone saw him. Most people think he’s some asshole just dressing up as the Miles County clown.

And that’s the mistake the cashier at Subway made that night.

• Art is so SO prone to being insulted easily. So if someone does think he’s trying to dress up as himself, it pisses him off. BAD.

• You learnt this very quickly when he came home with two blood stained Subway bags. And when you went to open one.. dawg.. it wasn’t your food.. ☹️

• It had been the severed head of the cashier he killed. But at this point you weren’t even squeamish anymore. Art always walked around smelling like someone’s insides. But it just made it incredibly awkward when he stood in the doorway blinking at you, making that O shape with his mouth, realising your food was in the other bag..

• One night you’d fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from filling out all the files your professor had sent you. Art smiled down at you before waltzing past with his usual looney tune, cartoonish looking walk. He wanted to raid your snacks again from the kitchen. Art could be a fat shit when he wanted to be. Your laptop was on the dining table, wide open. He hadn’t noticed at first, before a notification sound filled the room in under a second. Art had snapped his head round and squinted, noticing your professor’s name pop up. The prick sent an email lecturing you regarding not enough work being sent back, despite the fact he was sending a shit ton of files. This caused Art to type a very lovely little email back. And when you awoke, he was gone.

… So was your professor apparently when the head of your college sent everyone emails that morning to note that he would not be returning.

• When Art came strolling back in, covered head to toe in that familiar red liquid, you immediately knew.

And this was your long awaited break.

• At last you weren’t having anymore documents sent to you for a while. Atleast until they found a replacement for your old professor. So finally you could relax, watching your lanky boyfriend on the couch across from you, grinning like the madman he is at the horror flick on the TV.

Maybe that clown could cheer you up with everything after all.

HII! this was so fun to write. i adore art so much and i’m desperate for more requests for him!! (also ik a 24hr subway isn’t that common, don’t come for me 😭)

[moonstruckme]

This with player!sirius black

Hi! I assume you meant Sirius was the one sending the first text? So I hope this is okay :)

cw: alcohol, vomit mention (no description)

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 980 words

You stumble out onto the street and right into a pair of tattooed, surprisingly strong arms. 

“Fuck,” two voices say at the same time. One is yours, and the other…you look up, and a piece of dark velvety hair brushes your cheek as you meet slightly widened gray eyes. 

“Sirius.” His name comes out nearly without vowels, all strung together like one long s. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Hey, gorgeous.” He hoists you up a bit in his arms so you’re more on your feet. You don’t use them, though, content to let your weight rest on him for the moment. “You texted me to come.” 

You feel your face screw up. “I did?” 

Sirius’ mouth does that thing. He always looks like he has a little smile tucked in the corner, kept secret for now but constantly ready for deployment. It twitches. He grips you tighter against him, freeing one hand to dig in his pocket. 

“See?” 

You recoil from the bright light of his screen, squinting to read the messages. It takes all of your concentration, and by the time you muddle through it Sirius is looking down at you with a funny mix of humor and concern. 

“Oh,” you say. “I forgot.” The corner of Sirius’ mouth kicks up. “I didn’t expect you to come, though.” 

You start to slip down his front, and he heaves you up again with a grunt.

“Yeah, well my night had started to wind down,” he says, in that disaffected way of his. It doesn’t bother you like it usually does; you’re too busy thinking about how out of all the things he could’ve done tonight, he came to you. “Figured I’d see what you were up to. Where were you running off to when I got here, huh?” 

You have to think for a bit. Then it comes to you, and you swallow thickly. “I came out here to be sick,” you admit. 

Sirius’ eyes widen and for a second you think he’s going to step away from you, but he doesn’t. “Yeah? You need me to find a bin?” 

You shake your head, swallowing again. “No, this is good.” You stumble away from him, bending over the gutter at the side of the street. 

The club’s bouncer shouts. You hear Sirius say something back to him, and then his hands are in your hair, moving it away from your face. 

“Shit, babe,” he mumbles, securing it with a hair tie. “You alright?” 

You spit, blinking tears from your eyes. “Mhm. M’fine.” 

“You wanna go home?” 

You turn your head to see him. Your vision smears. “You wanna take me home?” 

Some of that smile deploys, just a hint. It’s enough to make you dizzy. “Maybe just in the literal sense tonight, doll. Though I’ll be happy to take you up on that another time.” 

You harumph, setting your bum on the curb. Or falling onto it, same thing. “Can we go in a minute?” 

“Sure.” 

Sirius sits beside you, pulling a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket. You watch him cup a hand to light it, inhaling quickly before blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth. He sets one hand on the pavement and leans back on it. The cigarette glows magma red between his lips. 

“Why did you come?” 

He shrugs, watching traffic pass on the street. “Like I said, my night was winding down. I thought you might be a good time.” 

You press your lips together. The smell of vomit is still sharp in your nostrils. “And I disappointed you.” 

“Not necessarily.” He exhales smoke, hair gleaming red under the neon sign of the club. “Where are your friends?” 

“Inside.” 

“Think they’re worried about you?” 

“When I left they were…distracted.” You smile wryly. You think you catch Sirius watching you out of the corner of his eye. “S’how nights out go, you know? Anyway, they’re used to me leaving early.” 

“Yeah?” Sirius’ voice is disinterested, like he’s just keeping up his end of small talk at a family gathering. “Why’s that?” 

You shrug, laying back on the sidewalk. Whatever’s getting in your hair is tomorrow’s problem. “I’m a lightweight.” 

He looks down at you, humming as he brings the cigarette to his lips again. “You’re a walking red flag, aren’t you?” 

You roll your head to the side. Grin up at him playfully. “And what about it?”

Sirius shrugs. “Nothing,” he says. “It’s hot.” He exhales a long stream of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night air. “My best mate says I always like things that are bad for me the best.” 

You’re not quite done wrapping your head around that when he stubs out the cigarette and slips a hand beneath your neck. “C’mon, this is no place for a nap.” 

He gets you sitting up, then stands, taking your hands to bring you up there with him. You start out on the half of the sidewalk closer to the curb, but Sirius steps around you, hand skimming across the small of your back as he takes your place. 

“Where’re we going?” 

“Your place.” 

You start to drift away, and Sirius gives your waist a slight tug. It’s the tiniest bit of pressure, but you stumble closer like he’s yanked you towards him. You may be swooning. 

“I can get home on my own,” you tell him. “I have a great sense of direction, I do it all the time.” 

“I don’t mind,” he says simply. 

And well, you don’t if he doesn’t. For a while you walk in silence, Sirius guiding you with his hand at the small of your back, not seeming to care that you called him out here for nothing or that you smell like vomit or that you keep stumbling in your heels. 

“Sirius?” you ask after a while. 

“Hm?” 

“Do you think I’m bad for you?” 

He’s quiet for a second. “I haven’t decided yet, doll. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

[sniigura-archive]

Multiversal DP (2)

Canon!Adam x fem!reader x College Au! Adam

Part 1

Summary: The only person Adam can share with is himself.

CW/TW: MMF Threesome, Oral sex, Rimming, Double penetration, Breeding kink slightly, belly bulge, anal sex, unrealistic sex and dick sizes, sexual harassment, violence, reader gets sick, parteyy, degradation, Controlling behaviour, Jealously, Selfcest (one line), the adam’s are assholes, size difference, reader mentions being descended of adam once, coercin if u squint maybe, tell me if i missed smth

The fragile dynamic you carefully build up with Adam the past few weeks was destroyed oh so easily by his counterpart.

Suddenly, Adam won’t touch one dirty dish, Goldy won’t even think about picking up after himself, and when he does he makes sure to do a shitty job. Whenever something is dirty or they get hungry they look at you, as if you’re their fucking house slave. You were on strike, going as far as only cleaning and washing your stuff and cooking only for you. Assholes.

The topic off heaven and hell came up frequently, kind off throwing off your whole world view. Adam was most interested to know what’s going on there, while you weren’t. The thought off going to church and repenting entered your head more than you would like to admit.

It was just annoying, especially since Goldy doesn’t know you. As in his universe version of you. There were a few explanations for that, maybe you just don’t exist there, you haven’t died yet, you’re an angel he doesn’t know (he admitted that that’s not highly unlikely), or you’re in hell. Apparently there’s a difference between a sinner and an hellborn? Sinners he slaughters every year, the others are spared.

One time he pulled out his heaven phone to show heaven and hell to you two. When he got to the hell part, you wanted to die. Seeing dead people was really not your thing. Yikes. At least you now know what impact and succubi look like?

With Goldy’s sharp senses, hyper awareness of his surroundings and a a sixth sense for when you and Adam want to fuck, tension is especially high. He’s basically cock blocking himself.

“Don’t fuck with me, or are you too stupid to put a bowl into the dishwasher right?” You were close to bashing it over his whack ass mask he never took off again, after showing his face that first time.

Goldy was picking at his ear, not even bothering to look at you when he spoke,

“Damn, bitch, already told you guys just aren’t cut out for tasks like that. It’s not thaaaaat bad.” At this point you were tired off his weaponised incompetence.

You dumped the dirty water from the bowl into the sink. Turning around, you grabbed the fork and stabbed it into the steak Goldy cooked up. You dropped it into the still wet, and dirty bowl.

“Here you go!” You smiled brightly at the angel.

“What the fuck, you whore?! My fucking food!” His mask displayed his unhappy grimace, while his wings puffed up. His arms flayed around while he swore a storm up at you.

“What? It isn’t thaaat bad.” You mocked his words.

“Ooohhh, you think you’re so fucking slick, don’t you?” While the angel straightened up his back and shoulders, making himself bigger while getting into your personal space, you crossed your arms in front of your chest. Just a normal evening for you.

Adam finally emerged from the bathroom, he finished his shower. Or maybe he cut it short because you were fighting with the angel again, who knows.

“Do you both ever fucking shut up?” He growled out through clenched teeth, while rubbing his hair dry with a towel.

“He started it!” “She started it!”

You both were pointing fingers at each other.

Adam took some deep breaths, trying to calm himself down before speaking.

“Just..Fucking drop it, babe, and start worrying about dinner instead.” Adam waved you off, while Goldy smugly grinned at you.

This is how it’s been, with the multiverse traveler pissing you off and Adam taking his side. You hated it.

Slamming your hand on your phone, which laid on the counter, you slid it into your hands, “I’m fucking done.” You whispered under your breath, while making your way towards the door.

You unlocked your phone, searching for Monica’s chat. It was time to take her up on that guest room offer. Fuck these assholes.

Adam reached out, grasping your elbow into his hand, “What did you just say?” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

You yanked your elbow out of his grasp, “I’m going to stay with Monica and Dy so you both can live out your stupid alpha bro dreams.”

Adam made an attempt to yank your phone out of your hand, but you were faster. And already anticipated that he would do that. Skipping some steps forward, you finally reached the door. Slipping into your shoes, while holding your phone away from a grabby Adam.

“Fuck, chill your tits, baby. It’s not that serious!” Adam tried to calm you down, but sadly it had the opposite effect.

“Not that-?! You’re so fucking insufferable, both of you! Everything is dirty! He’s straight up antagonising me and you’re just..kissing his dick for it!” During your rant you put on your jacket, hiding your phone away in the pocket.

“I wish somebody was kissing my fucking dick…..”

“Jesus, it’s not fucking like that-“ Adam placed his hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you back but you just shake his hand off.

“Don’t touch me! Ugh! Everything is a nightmare. Seeing that asshole strut around like that sure makes me wonder what I even see in you.” You hissed at Adam.

Before you could properly process his shocked face, you opened the door and slammed it shut. Stomping through the hallway, you used the stairs to leave the apartment complex. Walking towards the park near you, you used your pent up energy to fast walk a few rounds around the pond.

Panting, you sat down at a bench. You haven’t bothered to talk to your friends yet. Moving was horrible and you actually didn’t want to go through with it. Regret settled into your gut like a stone in water. Fuck.

Why would you even say someone like that to Adam?? Just because hot wings gets on your nerves, it gives you no right to shit on poor Adam like that. He did so much for and you act like that? Damn.

You weren’t quite sure for how long you stayed like this, with your face in your hands, trying to stay calm. Your breath was turning foggy from the cold weather. Why did you have to fuck up a good thing?

Probably because you can only deal with one Adam at a time, and it genuinely feels like the other guy is out to get you. Like he’s trying to get you out.

You heard gravel crunch under heavy foot steps. Peaking through your fingers, you saw Adam approach you. Man, you really have to get check through your phone. You straightened up your back, wiping away the wetness from your face.

Adam sat down besides, his legs spread apart and his knee knocking into yours.

“…You call Monica and Dy yet?” He spoke into the silence.

The warm light of the lamp post shined down at Adam. His hands were in his lap, with which he was nervously fiddling around with.

You shook your head no, while sniffling.

It seemed like a small part of the tension left Adam’s body. He let out a breath of relief.

“You wanna come home, baby?” Adam wrapped his arm around your shoulder, smushing you against his side. His lips brushed against the top of your head.

“..I wish we were worse people and would just rat that guy out. Letting some crazy scientist experiment on him.” You mumbled out.

Adam laughed at that, “That’s what you fantasies about? You’re freaky, woman, I like it.”

Groaning, you rubbed eye, “I don’t- Can’t live with him like that. Does he hate me or something?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it anymore. We had a…little chat…Angels bleed gold, in case you wanted to fucking know.” Adam flexed his one hand. Now that you weren’t avoiding looking at him, you saw the bruising forming on his knuckles.

“What did you do?!” You carefully took his hand into yours, “And your face too! You got into a fight with a 9 feet tall angel for me?”

Gently taking his face into your hands, you turned it around to take a good luck at his split lip and bruised jaw. Clicking your tongue unhappily at him, you sighed heavily.

“Height doesn’t matter, especially not if we got the same fighting moves down.”

“He totally beat your ass didn’t he?”

“He’s 9 fucking feet tall, babe! With wings! And weird fucking holy light, together with more experience! I didn’t stand even one chance. Got a few good hits in though.”

You snorted at his answer. Kissing his cheek, you purred at him, “My hero.”

“Yeah, baby, I sure fucking am. How bout you give me my reward when we’re back home, huh?”

“..You sure it’s safe to go back?”

“Will be, if not ‘m throwing that leech out. I think you guys got off the wrong foot anyways. Maybe has something to do with you ripping the biggest feather out of his wing.” He snickered at the last part, remembering how he told the angel to not let you near his wings. The guy just scoffed at him.

“He said, and I quote “Do whatever you wanna do them, baby girl.” So I did whatever I wanted to do. That’s on him.” You pouted up at Adam.

He kissed the top off your head, he stood up and made you follow suit.

“It’s time to get out of the cold, before you get sick, little baby.” Intervening your fingers, Adam made his way back with you.

The walk back was nice, filled with meaningless shatter. Adam was always warm and soft, you honestly couldn’t wait to get back into bed.

Entering the apartment, you saw Goldy shove tissues up his nose while he sat on the couch, his head leaning back. After you took off your shoes and coat, you walked towards the angel and his golden, bloody tissues. Pressing your finger against his head, you shoved it forward,

“You’re supposed to lean your head forward, otherwise the blood runs down your throat.” You continued your walk to the kitchen, fishing out the cool pack from the freezer.

He mumbled something about you being a know it all, but he still moved his head.

Thinking about it, you got another one out. Wrapping both of them in a towel, you walked back into the living room. You gave both idiots one. A chorus of thanks babe reaches your ears.

Making your way into the bedroom, you were happy to just pass out now. Closing the door, you simply stood just in the room. You were glad the keys for the bedroom and bathroom magically appeared again once the other-Adam arrived.

Hearing the door open and close behind you, you turned around to see Adam enter. The cool pack was held against his jaw. He sat down at the bed, watching you intensely. You walked towards Adam, standing in-front of him. Taking his face once again into your hands, you took a better look at his bruise and busted lip.

Adam’s hands found themselves at home at the back of your thighs, resting right below your ass. He urged you to sit on his lap, by trying to tug you down. You smiled down at him, grasping his shoulders into your hands, you shoved him down.

He looked surprised, looking up at you with big eyes, “Whatcha looking at, baby girl?” You asked Adam through giggles.

“Alright, you asked for it.” Adam grabbed your hips while smirking at you.

He threw you onto the bed easily, crawling over you.

“Why? You don’t want to be my baby giiIIIRLLL.” Before you could end your sentence, Adam brushed his fingers over your ticklish side.

You burst out laughing, squirming around. Pushing at his shoulders, you shoved him away from you. Adam didn’t keep away from you for long, he quickly took both of your wrists into his hand, and kept them above your head. His other hand kept exploring your midriff teasingly. You couldn’t contain your giggles and laughter, no matter how hard you pressed your lips together.

Adam was slotted between your legs, his chuckles filled the air. His hands stopped their tickling attack and started instead to draw patterns into your skin. His face was hovering right above yours, because of your heavy breathing your chest kept brushing against his. Fuck. You felt Adam’s hard bulge brush against your pussy when he shifted his body. His eyes were burning into your own, until they shifted towards your parted lips.

It didn’t take much for Adam to fill in the gab between your lips, his tongue pushing against your lips and into your mouth. His hips ground into your own, the zipper of his pants caught your clit through your sweatpants, which causes you to whine.

Adams lips left yours, he started to leave wet, messy kisses on your cheek and then neck. Sucking marks into the sensitive skin, you knew you had to dig out the turtleneck for tomorrow.

“Adam, please.” Was all you could muster to whine out.

“Does my favourite slut need it that bad? Can’t even wait to take our clothes off. What a desperate whore.” He chuckled smugly into your ear.

Fuck, you were really pent up. Adam spoils you too much, with multiple daily orgasms. Before Adam, you thought you weren’t a sexual person. Now you get bitchy when you don’t fuck for 2 weeks. You’re so done for.

Adam continued to hump your clothed pussy, but with the way his brows were furrowed and how he kept groaning into your ear, you knew he wouldn’t last long. Two weeks off celibacy must be like 2 years for Adam.

His hand weasel itself under your shirt, groping your breasts through it.

“Did ya…know.. fuckfuckfuck, that you got the prettiest tits. Shit. I fucking lied, babe, ya got the body of a perfect fuckdoll.”

Adam let go off your captured wrists, to take your hips into his hands and he properly grinded his hard dick against your pulsing cunt,

“Tell me, baby, what feels best for that pretty pussy…Fuck. Like that? Yeah?” Adam used different rhythms and intensities while rubbing his clothed dick against your soaked pussy, analysing your face for reactions.

Using your now free hands to grasp the hair at the nape of his neck and to dig your nails into his bicep, you whined for Adam, “Like that, Adam! Pleeeeaaaaseeeee, don’t stop. I need youuu- Shit!”

He laughed at you, watching how lost in pleasure you were just like that, “You’re too easy, baby. Cmon, cum for me, be a good girl.”

You felt the hot flashes of pleasure curse through your lower belly, you wrapped your legs tightly around Adam’s waist. Grinding your own hips against his, to ride out your orgasm successfully. Adam groaned into the air, his hips twitching against your own. He cursed at the feeling of cum filling his boxers, wishing he was filling you up instead.

Both of you were panting into the stuffy, warm air. Adam moved his hands to unbutton your pants, you lifted up your hips so he could slid you out off them easier. He threw the pair over his head, that was a problem for future you.

“Shit, babe, I got you to fucking soak through these panties,” Adam shoved his own cargo pants down, his hand dipped into his soiled underwear. He pulled his hand out, cum coating his fingers, he grinned down at you and shoved your panties to the side, bullying his thick fingers into your sensitive hole.

You whimpered at the feeling, pushing your hips against his fingers.

“Suuuch a pretty pussy, with that vice fucking grip. Mmmh, you like when I finger fuck you open, don’t you?” He removed his fingers, wiping them clean on the inside of your thigh. What a gentleman.

Adam moved around, removing his pants and underwear completely. He slid in between your legs, throwing them over his shoulder. Feeling Adam’s tip rub against your clit, you moaned pathetically. Covering your mouth with your hand, you tried to stay silent. Something you weren’t able to success the past 15 minutes, but whatever.

Adam scoffed at you, “Tryin’ to stay quiet? We both know that doesn’t work, baby, my stroke game is just too fucking good.”

“I don’t want to get another complaint from the neighbours. ‘S embarrassing.” You bit down on your lip when you felt Adam slide his thick dick into your pulsing, needy pussy.

“Sorry that my dick is so big and good that you can’t stop screaming. Let’s see how loud you can get, baby.” Adam folded your body in half, resting his elbows besides your head.

He started thrusting, the bed frame slamming against the wall. Adam just knew how to roll his hips, how to grind his pelvis against your clit, knew where all the sensitive spots were buried deep inside off you.

You grasped your hand into Adam’s hair, tugging at it. He groaned into your ear, leaving sloppy kisses against your cheek. Moving your head, you slotted your lips against Adam’s neck, sucking and biting marks into the skin.

As much as you tried to keep your moans and babbling of Adam’s name at bay, it didn’t really work out. Adam laughed at you, he straightened out his arm, to properly look down at you while he plowed you into the next week. Looking into his burning, golden eyes, you felt your insides clench down around him. He just has that effect on you. Fucker. You dragged your nails down his back, trying to ground yourself.

Adam shifted around to roughly take your jaw into his big hands.

“If you ever make any fucking plans about leaving again, I’m going to ruin your damn life. You got that, brainless slut?” Adam hissed at you, the venom practically dripping from his lips.

Ah, there it is. The toxic, possessive asshole behaviour he conditioned you to like.

“ ‘M sorry, Adam. Didn’t mean it.” You whimpered out, looking at Adam with pleading, teary eyes. As long as he made you cum, you would promise him anything.

“Aww, babe, ‘s okay. I know you’ve been acting up cause Daddy hasn’t been paying attention to you and your sweet cunt. Going to fill you up reeeaaaal nice, yeah?” Adam smashed your lips together, your tongues dancing.

He snaked his hand down your body, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing gentle, firm circles into the sensitive bud. You felt your toes curl, sobbing at the fire flashing through your body, you came around Adam’s dick. With only a few more rolls off his hips, Adam filled up your pussy.

Adam bend his neck to pepper kisses all over your face. You pressed Adam by his shoulder away, “My legs are cramping…”

He snickered down at you, he gently moved your legs off your shoulders, giving your calf a kiss. Grasping your ass into his hands, he flipped on his back, without pulling out off you.

“How ‘bout you do all the work then?” Adam’s half hard dick twitched inside off you, he grabbed your hips and ground your clit down on him, “Give the neighbours a real fucking reason to complain.”

And while you rode Adam for your own pleasure, it was not only the neighbours who were listening in on you two.

The other-Adam had his shirt in between his teeth, his hand stroking his leaking dick. Thick cum stains already coated his stomach, but as long as he could listen in he wouldn’t bother to stop. He threw his head back, groaning at the feeling of his over sensitive dick being massaged by his own hand. What he wouldn’t give to have you wrapped around him.

He would never admit to it, but he sees the appeal in you. If only you wouldn’t always wear those oversized clothes, he’d be better able to imagine what you look like. What shade are your nipples? Does the carpet match the drapes? What would it be like to kiss your lips and pussy?

You were annoying and that made you so much hotter, calling him fucking Goldy? Throwing dishes after him? Not even bothering to give him a second glance, even though his dick is clearly bigger than the other guys? Disobeying him at every turn, no matter how petty? A dream come true. He’d be such a better choice for a partner, he’s bigger, stronger, he’s an fucking angel. Like, hello?

Of course you have to be stupidly loyal.

What he wouldn’t give to have such a hot, loyal babe bouncing on his aching dick right now.

That fucking prick knew what he was doing, not just right now but the past two weeks. Sadly, no one knows him best than himself. Having that ungrateful nasty little mortal kiss and touch you, displaying those sweet moments shared between couples. Fucker. There’s only so many times he could at least interrupt you two from fucking. He really did try to get you out off the house, for good. The thought of feeling anything beyond lust for you was terrifying. Everyday he spent here was filled with uncertainty, it was unclear on how long he will stay.

Or if he could ever go back to heaven.

He should have just smashed his copy cats head in, take you back with him and keep you as a little trophy wife. Asshole can’t even get you to quit your job. Fucking rookie.

Adam felt his balls tighten at the sound of you moaning his name. Well, it doesn’t matter who you were saying it to, it was enough for him to cum. Groaning at the sight and feeling, he grabbed some tissues to finally clean up.

———

The past few days have been better, you all cleaned the messy apartment, had now a rough chore list, and you even started cooking again. It was nice, you could finally relax again. Adam also implemented a movie nights of sorts, something about team building.

You wouldn’t admit it to Adam, in fear of his already inflated ego, but it did help you and Goldy bond. He was awfully into documentaries about human history, which was kind of sweet.

Adam was at a restaurant with his mother, he not-so-affectionately called it the monthly business check-in.

“I would say I can’t believe that dick and yo momma jokes have been around since, like, forever but…” You trailed off and eyed Goldy, who sat on the other side of the couch.

“What bitch? Can’t take a good joke?” The angel was shoving doritos into his mouth. How it worked with his mask was a mystery to you.

“Maybe you just aren’t funny…It’s kind of nice, don’t you think? The indomitable human spirit, very much got that from you.” Your eyes wandered from the TV, which was displaying the vulgar (and very funny) graffiti off Pompeii, to your crochet needle. The fire took a lot, but not your grandma hobby from you.

“Damn, I keep miscounting the stitches….” You checked your pattern and your half finished project, you were so into the documentary that you just kept crocheting.

The intensity of Goldy’s stare bore into the side of your face. While you carefully unfurled the stitches, he crossed the distance between you two easily. He took your chin into his huge hand, turning your face so you could look at the grin being displayed on his mask.

“You know, baby girl, I’m a pretty big fucking deal in heaven. I’m preeeeetty sure, if you let me cum inside that tight hole it would be an instant ticket upstairs.” His other arms was thrown over the back off the couch. He had you successfully trapped in.

You just blinked up at him, “Man, we really have to get you out of the house.”

Goldy simply was still, as if the mere idea of rejection was oh so foreign to him. Side eyeing him, you elbowed his side,

“Get back to your place.”

He slid back over to the other side of the couch, while pouting. His legs and arms were crossed, turning away from you. The full 9 yards. What a baby. Hearing the click off the door unlocking, Adam was finally home.

Adam closed the door, securing all the looks. He took off his heavy coat, and boots.

“Welcome home.” You called out to him, refocusing on your project quickly.

“What’s up, leeches,” Adam plopped down beside you, shielding your view away from the angel, “..What’s up with him?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you looked into Adam’s eyes. He raised his eyebrow and mouthed ‘Talk later?’ and you nodded yes at him. That seemed to relax Adam, he threw his arm over your shoulder and pressed you against him.

“Gah! Dude! You’re messing up my stuff…”

“Fucking..Stop then and focus on me. I haven't seen you all day, cmon baby.” Adam’s voiced bordered on being whiny.

Sighing, you put your needle and yarn on the living room table. You’re over here handling over grown man children, maybe you should ask Adam to give you an allowance.

“Alright, alright, you big baby.” You climbed into Adam’s lap, resting your head against his chest, “ How’d it go with your Mom?”

Adam’s hands instantly found themselves on your body, he sneaked one hand under your sweater, rubbing your skin there.

“Eh, went alright. It’s always the fucking same anyways. “Oh Adam, you need to watch your language. Oh Adam, be careful of your reputation. Blah-fucking-blah. The time would have been better spent doing nothing all fucking day.” He buried his nose into your hair.

Goldy got up from the couch, and stomped towards his room/guest room and slammed the door shut. Next you could hear loud rock music coming from his room. Jesus.

“What’d you do to the guy?” Adam asked you, chuckling.

“Dude, I think he’s getting, like, cabin fever? He told me, if I let him cum inside I’m going to heaven, basically.” You kept your voice down, not wanting the angel to hear.

“That ungrateful- What did you say?” He started at your face.

“No obviously? Why do you think he’s so pissy…You know what I thought? We can take him to that halloween party. We would just have to give him an headband and wrap a wire around his halo. He would just wear his mask and I don’t know…He changes his voice up a bit?”

Adam rubbed his chin at the thought, “Huh…Why didn’t I think of that?”

“He’s losing it. We need him to let out energy.”

“I know the perfect way we could let out energy, babe.” Adam grinned at you, his hand groping your tits through your sweater.

“Oh my god-“ You got up from Adam’s lap, walking towards the bed room, “Talk to me when you think with your brain for once.”

“Noooo, I was just joking. We can talk. Chat with me baby, all that intellectual shit. You think fucking… aliens are real?” He was hot on your trail.

———

The party was going great. It was outside the city, in a rather remote forest clearing. The halloween vibes totally fit in there. A generator was used to power the string lights and music, there even was a bonfire, everything was great.

You were kind off running late, deciding to get ready with your friends sure was a decision. It’s what you had to do to keep Adam from finding your costume. You fear if you wore that in front of him in the apartment that he wouldn’t have left the bed room with you.

The black, lacy corset pushed everything you got up and made your waist disappear. The horns on your headband was inspired by the succubus the angel showed you on his phone. He kept making jokes that you’re probably one, so here you are. Little leather wings were attached to your lower back, and even a tail made an appearance.

The little black skirt with build in safety short and your net tights just pulled the whole look together. Not even including your make up, which Bernadette sat a long time on.

You were sat in the middle back seat, squished between Bernadette and Jesus, while Monica was driving and Dy sat beside her. Monica was dressed as Poison Ivy, while Dy was Harley Quinn. Bernadette was an angel and you somehow convinced Jesus to be the Anti-Christ, because you think you are hilarious. It was less an actual costume and more of Jesus wearing dark robes and smokey eye shadow. You gave him a little name sign with “Anti” tapped to his chest.

Man, in hindsight you should have known this universe is whack. All your close friends are named after saints, one friend is even named Jesus, you dated literally Judas? Adam and Eve? Lilith and Lucifer? Are you dense or something? Maybe just in hardcore denial.

Monica took a sharp corner, causing everyone to be thrown around. Jesus hands immediately flew to his pink kippah, not wanting to lose it on the dark, dirty car floor.

“Does it fit? I kept miscounting my stitches….” You looked towards Jesus on your the right.

“Fits perfectly! Thanks again for inviting me. Girls night are always the best.”

The whole car hollered in agreement over the already loud playing music. Monica took another horrible sharp turn (and they say you’re a bad driver??) and parked the car successfully. You could see where the party was at by the light and music. You all linked your arms together and started walking towards the party.

It wasn’t difficult to spot the angel, he was still 9 feet tall with glorious golden wings and a shining halo. So you weren’t surprised to see girls flock around him. He fits in perfectly, which was good. You hope it stays like that. Mentally, you’re saluting these girls for flirting with him. Because….How big is his dick………That’s scary….

It was always interesting to you, to see how someone differently acts when they’re in public. It’s easy to spot in both of the Adam’s, you realise. Adam slouches and makes sure not to move his hands fast when he’s around you, his voice is softer and it seems like he’s constantly aware of his size and strength. Goldy took a few days to adjust, but after you duck away from him a few times from seeing his hands and arms move so fast out of the corner of your eye, he stopped. He watched Adam and adopted the same gentleness.

You haven’t spotted Adam yet, but you think that has more to do with you being dragged to the dance floor immediately than anything else. Letting your body move freely, you laughed with your friends. Pointing out occasionally an extremely cool costume, it was nicely time spent.

Breaking free off the mass, you needed to cool off. Sweat was pooling uncomfortably under your tits which wasn’t very sexy. Walking towards the drinks, you poured yourself some soda.

“What’s up, baby girl?” Man, for a huge guy with wings he sure could sneak up on you.

“Hey there, Casanova. Why not entertain the groupies?” You took a sip from your drink.

“Nah, bae, only one I wanna really talk to.” His eyes trailed over your body greedily, “Shit, why don’t you wear stuff like that ‘round the house?”

“Halloween is the one night I dress slutty for a few hours and then it’s back to being a potato sack!”

“Noooooo, you can dress even skimpier around the house! I will fucking behave, I totally promise!” You both knew that he wouldn’t be able to pull through on his promise.

You just laughed while shaking your head at him. Slapping his hand away from tugging at your skirt, you started walking again. It wasn’t too much of a surprise to feel the huge angel press against your back, following your every step.

“You really are going to follow me?” You craned your neck to look up, he easily hovered over you by simply looking down. Your stomach fluttered.

“Of course, sweet thing. Where else would I be?”

You aren’t better than any common whore, it seems. Dragging your hand over your flushed face, to hide it away, you thrusted your purse into his arms.

“Well, then protect this with your life for me.” Goldy swung the purse over his shoulder while grumbling.

Walking with the angel around was actually nice, he successfully scared any guy away with one look and you could wander around without fear. Making him eat extra sour candy was pure entertainment, you wish he didn’t wear the mask. Thanks to the regular movie nights you guys could actually speak to each other without attempting murder.

Exhaustion started to settle into your bones and your feet were starting to get tired. Man, you haven’t even chatted to Adam yet. You caught a few glimpses off him, but you had the suspicion that Goldy kept leading you away from Adam. Bit rude, but okay.

With a fast pace you escaped the watchful eye of your self appointed guardian angel, and made your way to Adam who you finally spotted. He stood with Lute, Judas, Jesus and your friends.

Adam was dressed as Beetlejuice, while Lute was a fierce crusader. Which was hot as fuck off her. You didn’t get Judas costume and you didn’t want to waste the energy to figure it out.

“There’s the devil to my angel! Together with your giant duck. You have been asked to join a couple in bed, right?” Bernadette welcomed you with a horrible string of words.

“What?” Is all you could muster out, the words not quite registering properly. Adam threw his arms over your shoulder and pulled you into his side.

“Some people are unicorn hunters here. This is actually the first time someone asked me.”

“Oh. Right. These two harlots asked me first.” You pointed at Monica and Dy.

The surprised looks from the Adam’s were pure gold, and their exclaims even funnier. Bernadette also looked shocked, while the couple seemed bashful.

“Why didn’t you ask me?” Bernadette seemed offended.

“…You’re straight, Bernie.”

“So? Do you know how hard it is to be the only straight one in the friend group? Do ever think of MY struggle?”

You covered your mouth to hide your laughter. While the three of them discussed Heterophobia, you turned towards Jesus and decided to ask him,

“How do I speedrun into heaven?” Blinking at him curiously.

“I know of a-“ You reached behind you to pinch the soft side of the angel.

Jesus laughed at your question, before deciding on answering, “Have you thought about converting to be evangelical? Key elements are repenting and accepting Jesus Christ as saviour.”

Lute mumbled something about the damn protestants.

“Oh yeah, I can totally do that. I can already see myself upstairs, man.” You nodded at him.

“Don’t fret, sister. You have a good heart, I do not doubt that you will inherit Gods kingdom.” Ah, fuck now you have to get baptised.

“Bro, you’re totally going against the bro code, being friends with my ex.” Judas complained, crossing his arms.

“I’m surprised he even likes you at all, considering pork isn’t kosher. Besides, Jesus and I are brothers in poverty.” You told Judas.

Judas stuck his tongue out at you, and stomped off. Jesus laughed, fist bumped you and followed his best friend. Adam rubbed your arm and chuckled,

“Fucking chump.”

You went to rub your eyes, but caught yourself, remembering how much glitter was on there.

“Well, we could all have a foursome to get the sexual tension out and for me to figure out if I’m really not gay. Because I would let Y/N-“ That was your cue to go.

Remind yourself to never let them drink this much again.

“You’re all degenerates.” You heard Lute scold your friends, Adam was having the time off his life, while you started walking around the party again.

The angel was still trailing after you, as if he’s a magnet or something.

“Baby girl, you sure don’t wanna disappear with me behind a tree?”

You threw him a look over your shoulder, “You sure don’t wanna sweet talk someone who’s actually interested?”

“Eh, I like when you play hard to get. Makes the reward soo much sweeter.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at his words, at this point you were immune to flirting. Before you could answer him, you felt a stinging slap on your ass. What the fuck? From the immature laughter coming from the freshmen boys, you knew it wasn’t Goldy who did that. Assholes.

Just as you were about to backhand the guy into the next week, his head was smashed into a tree by a giant hand. Ah shit. You covered your mouth with your hand in shock.

A fear which is deeply programmed into your body cursed through you. This was bigger than you. This was primordial. In between everything you just forgot who you were truly messing with, no matter how immature he was. This was an angel of the lord.

“Useless, fucking sinners..I will show you, alright.” He snarled down at the guy.

Taking deep breaths, you tried to remind yourself that this is the same guy who electrocuted himself with his electric toothbrush. You pressed your hand against his shoulder, wanting him to let up on the guy. Remembering the slaughtered sinners on his phone did not help the whole situation.

“Let him go.” You hissed into his ear.

The guys from the assholes friend group were yelling incomprehensible bullshit. You were happy that there weren’t any other people around. Some were giving you weird looks from afar. Fucking hell. Adam’s mask flickered, and it seemed like he didn’t even register your existence. This doesn’t surprise you, you’re barley a fly compared to him. His wings were flared up and slightly flapping.

It was slow, the way he let up of the bastard. He thumped to the ground, holding his bleeding head. He genuinely looked at him as if he was trash.

Taking his arm into your hands, you dragged him with you away from the guys. This totally wasn’t stressful. God, where was Adam? Thank the universe that he was so tall, you could spot him over the crowd. Making a straight line for the stripped suit, you were surprised that the angel was so quiet. Maybe you should get a punching bag for the apartment? Maybe that would help him.

Reaching Adam, you tugged him down by his collar and whispered into his ear,

“He bashed someone head into the tree.”

Adam’s face morphed into one of shock, “Unprovoked?”

You shook your head at him, but your lips were pursed and you honestly just wanted to get home now. Adam dragged his hand over his face, looking unhappy.

“Alright, let’s get fucking going.” When Adam went to grab your arm, his doppelgänger straight up growled at him. Wild. Why are there butterflies in your stomach are you insane?

“What the fuck happened?” Adam looked at you.

You just shrugged, making your way with the two guys towards Adam’s car.

“Anyone going to fucking clue me in? Do I look like fucking Holmes, the way you two make my head smoke.” Adam scratched his head.

“You’re a worthless excuse for a man.” Goldy told him coldly.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean? Mind your fucking mouth, asshole.”

“Some guy slapped my ass and he smashed his head against a tree. Can we go home now? I’m tired.”

“No fucking way. Are you alright?! What did he look like? Shit, let me go back there and beat him up…” Adam seemed ready to go back to the party, while you grasped his arm and shoved him back towards his car.

“Home! Now! And no more fighting.” You told both of them sternly, while getting into the car.

The ride home was silent and tense, and you wished you could skip through it but sadly you had to sit through it. Not even music was playing. Arriving at Adam’s place, thank goodness finally, you all quietly made your way upstairs. Taking your purse from the giants shoulder, you made your way straight to the bedroom. Adam went right after you. He closed the door behind you two.

“Untie this medieval torture device from me, please.” You couldn’t properly reach the laces on your back.

“..What’d he look like?” His voice was quiet.

“Huh? Oh. Doesn’t really matter.”

Adam scoffed at your words, “Cmon, tell me. I would just…have a little fucking talk with him.”

“The leader of the heavenly army had a talk with him already. I’m okay, don’t worry.” The pressure finally lessened on your torso.

Adam turned you around, so now you were looking at him, “I should have never left you alone.”

You smiled at him, “I literally had a 9 feet angel behind me, and it still happened. I fear that you wouldn’t have been much help.”

“What if I also want to bash his head into a tree?…You think he would’ve killed him?” The last question was whispered.

“Totally. Called him a sinner. He was soo done for.”

“Yeah, well, it was very much deserved, fucking bastard. Maybe he should have died, damn scum.” Adam pressed you against his chest, kissing the top of your head.

“I really don’t think that’s our call to make.” You mumbled against his chest.

Adam hummed, his hands wandering across your back. You playfully wrangled yourself out of Adam’s grasp and finally removed the corset completely. Quickly putting on your sleeping shirt, you threw yourself into the bed. You were just going to ignore that you’re probably smearing make up over his silk sheets. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

You woke up groggy, hearing yelling coming from outside. Since they got the same voice, you had a hard time telling who was yelling what. Simply placing your pillow over your head, you kept sleeping.

When you woke up again, both of the Adams were hovering over you, looking worried. Why does everything hurt? Why is your throat sore? And why the fuck was it so cold here?

“I think you might be sick, baby.” Adam told you gently.

“…No.” You sniffled at him, pulling your blanket up, “Why is it so cold?”

Two hands shoot out, one from each handsome guy, feeling your temperature. Adam’s brows furrowed while Goldy sharply inhaled.

“Take your cold hands off of me.” You whined at them. Man, usually they were so warm.

“You have to drink something, sweet thing.” The angel told you with a worried tone.

“Fuck. Alright. I gotta get to my classes, I will be back in a few hours. I’m going to buy…What? Fucking ibuprofen? Shit. Text me or call me if something should happen. Her phone password is-“ Adam told the angel, while throwing on his jacket and shoes.

Putting on his backpack, he wrote down your phone password to be extra safe. He gave your cheek a kiss goodbye and told his doppelgänger to take care of you, while he just waved him off.

Closing your eyes in exhaustion, because staying awake for 5 minutes was horrible, you were gone again.

Fluttering your eyes open, you were squashed between two big bodies. Your face was buried into Goldy’s soft chest, while your hips were pressed into Adam’s stomach. A wing was draped over the both of you. Finally you were warm. Hot even. Stretching your arms and legs out, you wanted to escape from this inferno.

“Look who’s finally awake!”

“How you feelin’?”

You just grumbled, they both sat up and helped you also sit. The rim of a water bottle was pressed against your lips. You took the bottle into your own hand, as if you can’t drink by yourself?? As soon as you were finished drinking, you threw yourself back into your pillow.

The both of them laid down back with you, their hands going from your forehead, to your cheek to all over your feverish body. You kicked the blanket off of your body.

“It’s so hot.” You threw your arm over your face, breathing heavily.

“Yeah, we fucking know.”

“Aren’t you going to get sick?” You asked into the room, not really sure who you meant. Probably your fellow human.

“Human germs don’t have shit on me.”

“Pft, I never get sick.”

Yeah, you don’t doubt that. Adam is the pinnacle of health. His teeth were naturally straight, no allergies, no intolerances. Meanwhile you have a family history of everything.

As quickly as your body heat up, it cooled down again. Reaching out, you covered yourself back up with the blanket. The guys went back to squish you in between their bodies. How the fuck Goldy fits in here was a mystery to you but also…Big ass bed. So what if his feet hang off the end. The wing was back as another blanket. Man this was actually nice. Goldy smells like Adam, which was a big comfort. It’s just….An undertone of incense seemed to follow him.

Sighing, finally content, you were off again to dreamland.

“…Date…Broke up…Multiple!…She…”

“Takes…Should…Asshole…Too..”

Man and you think you’re a horrible gossiper, those two are even worse than you. Groaning, you buried your head into the pillow. Deciding to face the world (two Adam’s) you squinted against the light.

“Stop snooping through my phone! Both of you! Oh my god…” When you tried to snatch your phone out of Adam’s hand he easily evaded your sluggish hand.

Goldy chuckled at you, he easily grasped your waist into his one hand. He pressed your back against his chest, keeping you in place. Adam grinned at you, what an evil guy.

“I’m sick and this is how you treat me?….Besides, since when did you guys get along?” You tiredly asked them, already giving up on trying to escape.

Adam squished your cheeks together with his free hand, “Eh, we got a few things in common. Like, believing how boundaries are not a thing.” Yeah, you believe that.

Goldy’s hands wandered from your waist to your naked thighs and legs, smoothly feeling you up, “We also got the same taste in women.” He seductively whispered into your ear.

“Those fever dreams are wild.” Is all you grumbled into your pillow.

The guys went back to gossiping, while you dozed off, walking in between a dream and reality.

———

It took you a few more days to get over that mysterious virus which attacked you. Even though you felt relatively healthy again, Adam still called in sick for you for another week. More like Goldy had you trapped in his wings on the couch while Adam called.

The fact that they got along scared you. Whenever you entered a room they stopped their whispering, the couch sitting order has been changed with you suddenly being in the middle and Adam ordered a package from Adam and Eve, which he quickly yanked out of your hand when you brought it in. Goldy was also way more touchier and Adam wouldn’t lose his mind over it, and you three still slept in the same bed.

Your first thought was that they’re fucking. Which probably would stop their fights about who’s the leader. (It’s you)

On second thought, they’re too far up the closet to do anything like that. And you would have noticed since you’re home all the time now. Classes are mostly done and all you have to do is finish up some assignments.

Some subconscious part of your brain probably knew what they were doing, what they tried to condition you to like. Which they didn’t even need to do, considering that was your shower fantasy now since the day the angel arrived.

That’s how you ended up with Adam’s tongue down your throat, while Goldy’s hands were under your sweater, squeezing your tits greedily. As if groping you when you were half delirious with a fever wasn’t enough. His lips went to the side of your neck, sucking in marks into the sensitive skin there.

Goldy’s hand went to the clasp of your bra, easily opening it. Not even you can skilfully open it like that. Damn him and his millennial off experience. The kiss was stopped and both of them helped you out your shirt and bra, thrown some where on the living room floor.

Your back was to Goldy’s chest, you were practically pulled into his lap. The angels hands immediately went to your tits, pulling roughly at your nipples and chuckling at your whining. Adam left kisses down your chest to your stomach towards your crotch. He grabbed the waistband of your sweat pants, together with your panties and pulled them down. Goldy lifted you up by your waist to help Adam take off your pants.

“Fuck yeah, jackpot!” The angel giddily exclaimed.

Both of the slid down the couch, and you realised that everything seemed horribly coordinated. How long have they been planning this??

They both settled in between your legs, each took a thigh into his hand to spread you properly apart. Fuck. You covered your eyes with your arm, you’re used to Adam starring at your pussy like that, but not a fucking angel looking at you like you were oh so delicious. Maybe you weren’t meant for threesomes?

Before anymore self doubt could cloud your mind and cause you to cancel this whole thing, you felt two tongues lick a strip up and down your pussy. All you could do is moan helplessly. Why is his tongue so big fucking hell.

While the angel was sucking on your clit messily, god you wanted nothing more than to close your legs, Adam was wiggling his tongue inside of you.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop. Pleaseeee!” You groaned out, digging your nails into the couch.

You felt hands on your hips and they tugged you more towards the edge of the couch.

Adam moved on from your pussy, moving down towards your hole. His tongue pressed against your sensitive rim and you couldn’t help but squeak, your hips buckling at the foreign feeling. Both of the men acted immediately, pressing your hips down. Now you REALLY wanted to close your legs.

“Shit, relax, can’t even eat ass in peace.” Adam grumbled at you, before going back.

Goldy was now slowly inserting his thick tongue into your pussy, while he angled his face in such a way that he could grind his handsome, big nose into your clit. Shit, he’s a professional. How are you supposed to last like that.

While Adam went back to circling your rim with his tongue, you felt your muscles slowly but surely relax. It felt weird. You have never done this before, but it wasn’t bad. Just unknown. Your face burned with shame. Your mind hasn’t decided yet what you were embarrassed off. Maybe how exposed you are? Yeah, let’s go with that.

Explicit slurping noises, together with your moans and please filled the air. This was probably the quietest you will ever have those two. You actually need to savour this.

Goldy moved to trace shapes and patterns into your clit with his tongue. He prodded with his finger against your pussy. He rubbed his thick finger to really make sure it was covered in your juices, and he slowly entered into the tight hole.

“Fuck, what are you, a virgin?” He mumbled against your pussy, before going back to licking.

Adam elbowed him into his side for that comment. He on the other hand slowly pressed his tongue against your rim, entering it and moving around.

You flexed your hand, because you weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to hold on to. Digging your nails into your palm, you felt your toes curl. Shit.

“ ‘M clooOosse.” Was all you could get out.

The boys intensified their motions and before you knew it you came all over their faces. They helped you ride out your orgasm, what gentlemen’s they are.

They both wiped their faces clean with the back of their hands. Each grabbing one thigh, they tugged you down. So now you were on the floor with them. Those assholes were quick and strong, manhandling you into a doggy position.

Your ass was in Adam’s hands, while your face was pressed against Goldy’s terrifying bulge. Both of them moved to remove their own clothes, which was at least something. Adam seemed to grab a bottle from the lower shelf of the living room table. Being the only one naked sucked ass, lowkey. Also they’re sexy and you enjoy looking at them, the less clothes the better.

Well, at least now you know that your fear was justified. That’s a weapon, not a dick. Goldy grasped your face into his hand, and he pushed your mouth down towards his dick.

Of course, he’s a fucking head pusher.

Adam lined up his dick with your entrance, slowly pushing in.

“Baby girl, you really need to worship the dick who started it all. Say thank you to the dick master, even.” The giant groaned into the air, putting your hair into a ponytail.

You quite literally couldn’t open your mouth wide enough for him. This was going to be a ride. Goldy pressed down your tongue in your open mouth, comparing the size of his dick to that of your mouth.

“Damn, I’m going to split you in half, huh?” He seemed excited at the prospect.

Hearing the opening of a bottle, you were confused for a sec, before you felt Adam’s cold and wet finger press against your ass. Right. What else would it be? A beer break?

Goldy used your small moment of embarrassment at the fact that Adam now truly knows all of your body, to push your head back down towards his dick. Right, they both hate not being centre of your attention. You licked and kissed everything you could, using your hands to massage his tip. Being able to wrap one hand around his dick was a far away dream.

Adam slowly rocked his hips against your own, entering more and more of his dick into you. One finger was in your ass, and you could feel the second one already prodding against your once virgin entrance.

“You wanna be my little anal slut, baby? I doubt Judas has fucked that tight hole, do I have the honour of taking your anal virginity? So fucking hot.” He’s probably compensating for the fact that he wasn’t your first time.

The words caused you to be even more turned on. Adam gave your ass a spank, then he grabbed your ass cheek and pulled it apart, to take a proper look at your filled out holes. He groaned in satisfaction.

“Yeah, right. As if that prick can take anyone’s virginity. I felt how tight that pussy is.” Great, they remembered they can talk.

“Shut your fucking mouth. I keep that cunt satisfied,” Adam reached out, using his not occupied hand to pull you up by your shoulder, “Who’s your best lay, babe?”

“Shit. It’s you! Adam…My Adam.” You whined out.

He started slamming his dick against your pussy in anger, he let you go again and you went to rest the side of your head against Goldy’s thigh.

“Heard that? Not you, not anyone fucking else, me. Her Adam.” He sounded proud and arrogant.

Goldy rolled his eyes at him, “That’s cause she hasn’t fucked me yet, chump.”

Adam scissored your ass open, while scoffing at his alternate version. He focused his stroke against your sensitive spots inside. Fuck, you were going to cum again. You felt yourself tighten around Adam’s dick.

Goldy rubbed his dick against your cheek, giving it little slaps. He covered your hand with his and jerked with you together his dick off. You looked into his burning, golden eyes when you straightened your neck out to give kisses to his tip. He groaned.

You couldn’t even give a warning, before you knew it your orgasm crashed all over you. The fire of lust burned your whole body, twitching, convulsing and moaning uncontrollably.

Adam was the next one to cum, he held your hips still while he fucked into you sloppily. He mumbled something about how you should take his load.

The last one was Goldy. He sped up both of your hand movements, he grasped your hair into his hand and he made sure to cum all over your face when he did. You quickly closed your eyes. He came in buckets. Literally. You already thought Adam was bad but this guy really know how to out do hisself at every turn. His cum felt hot and stayed hot, while it had a weird silvery iridescent glow.

While you all catches your breath, you blindly reached out and used someone’s t-shirt to wipe your face somewhat clean. The guys didn’t notice because they were too busy discussing about how much dick size mattered. Secretly putting the shirt back, you sat down on your knees. Now what?

As soon as they noticed that you’re ready to go again, they grabbed you and hauled you into their preferred position. Which was reverse cowgirl with Adam, while Goldy kneeled in front of you, encouragingly cooing at you.

Adam lathered up his dick with lube, your ass was hovering over his tip. He grasped your hips into his hands, and slowly let you slide down on his dick. Once the tip was in, he let you control the speed of everything. Your mouth fell open and you whined at the uncomfortable feeling. It felt weird. Weirdly good. Not good enough to cum, but it was something. Unfamiliar. You think the idea of something so taboo and hot happening to you was what turned you on the most. You felt your pussy drip with the need to be filled again, or well, it’s probably Adam’s cum running down your leg.

You reached out to grasp Goldy’s arms into your hands. You dug your nails into his muscles and he chuckled at you,

“You’re doing so well, honey pot. You were really made to take dick, huh?”

“Shit, babe, why haven’t we done this earlier?” Probably because of his massive breeding kink but what do you know.

You rested your forehead against Goldy’s chest or maybe more like upper stomach, while you were finally able to sit down fully on Adam’s dick. He impatiently thrusted his hips up. Fucker. Goldy gently grasped your shoulders into his hands, and he laid you down. With your back against Adam’s chest, Goldy spread your legs apart. Adam turned your head so he could smash your lips together, while he groped at your breasts.

Now it was Goldy’s turn to lather his massive dick in lube. He pressed his tip against your pussy.

“Fuck, relax. Your pussy was made to take dick and have our babies. This will be great, trust me.” The way he grinned wasn’t very trust worthy, but you still took deep breaths.

You felt your breath hitch when you felt him press against your pussy again, this time he continued pressing. Adam scolded him, when he saw you bit your lip and blink away tears. Goldy’s thumb found your clit and he massaged firm, slow circles into it.

Pain and pleasure mixed deliciously in your hazy mind. Slowly, your pussy was being overstuffed. Goldy noticed when you had enough, his focus was on your facial expressions. There was still some parts of his dick which couldn’t fit in, but he’s going to take what he can get.

Goldy wrapped his hand completely around your waist, and he started moving you up and down just like that. He fucked you on the two dicks,

“You’re just like a fuck doll! Shit. You sure got the body for one, slut.” Goldy chuckled at that.

Goldy let go off you and both of the men started rolling their hips into yours. They parallely matched each others thrust. They started out slow and shallow, but with every moan of yours they sped up. Goldy kept his thumb pressed against your clit, flicking it whenever you seemed too quiet.

You raised your head slightly, to get a glimpse of what was going on and shit. Fuck. You could clearly see the outline of his dick through your stomach. He was deep in there. You subconsciously clenched around him.

Adam had his hands wrapped around your tits, massaging them while he sloppily kissed your cheek. He seemed to be getting lost in pleasure.

Even though they didn’t share a hole, you felt them rub against each other inside you. It was hot. Being completely stuffed like that. Fuck. It was all so overwhelming, you were completely enveloped with Adam and Adam and Adam and Adam and all you could see, hear, smell, taste, think of was Adam. No matter what universe he was from.

“Don’t stop! I’m cumming, fuck, shit. Ah!” You wrapped your legs around Goldy, to keep him close. As if he could ever pull out. You were already sensitive from cumming two times, so it didn’t surprise you so much that it suddenly washed over you.

“Fuck already- Ah, Nevermind, me too..!” Adam groaned directly into your ear.

“The only annoying thing about heaven is that you can’t knock anyone up. Really hope this takes. Wanna be my breeding bitch?” Goldy’s voice was raspy, and he came in hot spurts into your pussy.

Adam ended up filling your ass, you immediately felt it drip out of you.

They both moved in such a coordinated way, their dicks still inside of you when the flopped on their sides. It reminds you off the way you guys share a bed, kind off. So you all were on your sides now, and while Adam’s half hard dick had a slight cool down, Goldy was already ready to go again. He was pulsing inside off you.

Goldy hiked your leg over his hip, and he started bullying his dick into you again. True penetration. You simply rested your cheek against his chest. Letting him use you to his hearts content.

Adam snaked his hand in between your and Goldy’s body. He found your clit and started massaging it while his dick started to get hard again. It didn’t take much longer after that for him to start slamming his dick into your ass again.

Overstimulation flashed throughout your body, like electricity. You felt tears trickle down your cheeks. It hurt, but the pain was pleasant. Your mind was delirious and hazy. They were too good. Your nipples rubbed against Goldy’s ample, hairy stomach and god all you wanted was to be trapped between their two huge bodies forever.

“ -Clearly better, made her cum 3 times now!” Goldy gloated.

“Are you fucking stupid? Without me you wouldn’t have made her cum, trust me, asshole.”

Man, they were at it again. They are really the ones who should fuck, instead of using you as a middle man.

Your eyes rolled briefly to the top of your head, it was hard keeping focus. They threw some more insults at each other. They kept pressing their bodies closer and closer, their noses nearly touching. Until they smashed their lips together, having the most hate filled make out session you have ever seen. Why is that the hottest thing you have ever seen?

That’s kind of unfair, Adam can kiss the angel but you can’t. Once the kiss stopped, their lips a nice blush colour from them biting each other, you looked up at them pathetically. Adam groaned and rolled his eyes at you,

“One time.”

He placed his other hand on the back of your head and smashed your lips together with Goldy’s. It reminded you of someone playing with dolls. His thick tongue immediately shoved its way inside your mouth, exploring greedily. You missed the tongue piercing a bit.

You choked on his spit, causing you to disconnect your lips while you cought up your lungs. Goldy immediately went to chase your lips with his own, but Adam roughly yanked on Goldy’s hair. He moaned at that.

“Mind your fucking manners, asshole. You know what you fucking agreed to.” Adam hissed out.

You didn’t agree to shit. You’re just happy to be included, to be honest.

You felt pleasurable pressure build up in your stomach. It felt similar to how your orgasms felt, just…different? It kind of scared you. Like you needed to completely let go for it to burst through. Sadly for you, you didn’t really have the mental capacity to hold back anything, since they really were fucking you with everything they got.

“WaaaAit-“ You squirted all over their dicks, and just like that you felt yourself slump forward. Everything went black for a solid minute.

Big, gentle hands rubbed all over your back, shoulders, and hips. Both of them were carefully calling your name.

“There’s our girl.” They sounded relieved.

“Ready for another round?” Goldy asked, rolling his hips into your overstimulated cunt. He just came, you could feel it from the burning inside your womb.

You slammed your fist against his chest, shaking your head no, “No. Enough.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re the boss, baby.”

The both of them carefully pulled out of you, cum immediate leaking out of you in mass. Jesus. That’s a clean up problem for tomorrow you. Or maybe you will force the boys to do it.

You three sat on the floor, while you were recovering the idiots were back to measuring their dicks. Literally. Taking the opportunity where there weren’t looking at you for once (the both of them were really interested in seeing the after math in between your legs) you wobbled unsteadily into the bed room. Silently closing the door, you decided to also lock it when they started to raise the volume.

Pulling on panties and Adam’s sleeping shirt, you threw yourself into the bed. It has been getting crowded the last few days, having the big bed to yourself is nice actually. You heard the lock rattle and whining from the other side of the door, together with scratching, like a dog begging to be let in. You just let yourself drift off to sleep.

You woke up in the morning, wrapped in a mess of limbs and wings. Sitting up slightly, you saw that they completely uninstalled the lock. Great.

[runninriot]

Say You're Sorry

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

prompt: make-up sex | rated: E | wc: 3.881

tags: sub top eddie munson, bossy bottom steve harrington, edging, orgasm denial, degradation kink (if you squint), steve's being a tease because eddie owes him an apology

complete fic on ao3

Steve knows Eddie didn’t do it on purpose. He knows how bad his boyfriend is at remembering dates, always has too many things buzzing around in his pretty head that it’s hard for him to focus, to filter out what’s important and what isn’t. And in the past two years of being in a relationship with him, Steve has learned to accept this minor flaw. But that he could forget today of all days, still makes him furious.

It’s not his birthday, no. It’s not even their anniversary. Steve could forgive him easily for forgetting those.

Today is way more important.

Today is his first day at his first teaching job – the one thing Steve had been working harder for than anything else in his life. After years of fighting with his parents, of almost giving up, and too many sleepless nights, he’s finally where he always wanted to be.

And Eddie just- forgot.

It’s not like Steve expected anything big, not even a little present or something. But he got nothing. Nothing at all. No ‘Good luck on your first day, baby’ or a cheesy ‘Go, get them, tiger!’, not even an ‘I’m proud of you.’

Instead, Eddie got up particularly late and drank his coffee like he always does, in grouchy silence, before mumbling a lousy ‘See you tonight, baby. Love you.’ and heading out the door.

So, Steve thinks he has every right to be pissed.

And he still is, when he comes home from work, despite the warm welcome he got from his new colleagues and students.

---

   “Hey my love, how was your day?”

Eddie is standing in the kitchen, cooking. For a second Steve thinks maybe he remembered, that maybe he’s surprising him with his favourite meal to make up for this morning. But no, one look over his shoulder shows that it’s not.

   “Good,” Steve grumbles, and Eddie – however oblivious he sometimes is – can instantly sense that something’s wrong.

He spins around and grabs Steve by his waist to pull him closer, kisses the back of his neck and the top of his head before he hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder.

   “Tell me baby, what did I do wrong this time?” He sighs deeply, honest regret in his voice, and Steve almost has pity on him.

Almost.

He peels himself out of Eddie’s arms and turns to look at him.

   “Oh, I don’t know. Let me think.” He taps his pointer finger against his chin and looks at the ceiling, pretending to search for an answer. “I don’t know, Eddie. Could it be that maybe you forgot something?”

He’s being a bitch and he knows it but he can’t help it.

   “For fuck’s sake, babe! Just tell me! You know I’m bad at this. What did I forget? Your birthday’s not for another month and- Oh.”

Steve can see the exact moment it dawns on Eddie.

   “Fuck. Fuck! Shit, baby, I’m sorry! I didn’t- I was- this morning I-“

He knows there’s no use in trying to come up with an excuse. It’s too late for that, the ship has already sailed. Steve’s mad and Eddie is to blame.

   “How was it? Tell me everything! How’s your schedule, your colleagues? Any funny stories about your students?”

It’s almost cute how hard he’s trying and the half sad half pleading look in his eyes is already starting to melt the ice in Steve’s heart.

But he won’t let him get off so easy.

Instead of answering Eddie’s questions, Steve walks out of the kitchen and into the bathroom where he locks the door behind him, just out of spite – they never lock the doors – and starts the shower.

The warm spray is heavenly, makes him realise how tense he’s been all day when he feels his muscles slowly loosen.

And when he’s done, he feels like a whole new man, refreshed and relaxed. Better, he feels better, and he finds that his anger, his slight disappointment has been flushed down the drain together with the stress of the day.

Steve can never be mad at Eddie for too long anyway, he loves that man too much.

BUT- and that’s a big but, Steve can also be a petty brat if he wants to. And he does. Because he thinks that Eddie does deserve at least some kind of punishment.

Something to make up for souring Steve’s mood.

Something he’ll thank him for. Later, when Steve’s done with him.

After more of the silent treatment at dinner, Steve knows Eddie is already close to a breakdown – figuratively speaking. He’s jittery and extra cautious of every move Steve makes, like he already suspects what’s coming for him.

Still, Steve takes his time, makes no attempts to offer Eddie any consolation, just lets him seethe in his guilty conscience for a little while longer – he doesn’t need Steve to give him directions, he’ll figure it out on his own.

Because Eddie, no matter how forgetful he sometimes is, is a clever boy. He’s a good boy, usually. Just sometimes he needs a little reminder, a little... tug at the leash, so to speak, to remember his place.

A place that is currently empty.

But not for long, Steve will make sure of it.

So, this time, when he goes to the bathroom to get ready for the night, the door stays open. Wide open. He undresses slowly, giving his boyfriend a show he knows Eddie can’t resist to watch. And oh, he’s watching. Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, the intensity making his skin prickle.

He’s watching and he’s probably already drooling all over himself, just waiting for his sign.

This is going to be so much fun.

continue reading here

[literaila]

peter and sad!reader ? anything you want to write about them

at least there’s that

tasm!peter x reader

warnings: sad reader, annoyingly happy peter

*

peter’s lingering in the kitchen. you know this because you can feel him, the same way you feel it when you’re forgetting something, or when you wake up late and immediately know it.

and because you can always feel him—not that you’ll admit it—even if he’s not here.

but tonight he’s actually lingering. literally sitting with his back against the wall, trying to pretend like there’s something important you’re supposed to be telling him.

“are you sure you trust me enough to pick?” he asks, for probably the seventh time.

“yes, peter.”

“i might pick a youtube video of cool spider-man clips.”

“i’ll watch it.”

“really?” he’s closer now, sneaking towards you like you can’t tell. his aura is impending.

you turn towards him with a fake smile. “with my eyes closed, obviously.”

“obviously.”

this might be the end of this discussion—because peter was supposed to be picking a movie while you compiled the snacks, five minutes ago—but it never is with him.

“are you sure that you’re sure?”

“go, peter. you’re scaring the popcorn.” you mutter, no effort in the joke. but you mean it when you tell him to leave.

you just want to be alone for a minute.

he must sense this in your tone, because he finally says “okay, okay” with his hands up and leaves the room.

you feel guilty for the way you slouch as soon as his absence is apparent.

you wanted this, you think, this time with him. but now that you have it, it’s nothing like you expected.

you’d wanted to be in a good mood. to quip with him and laugh into his mouth at some funny movie. to throw popcorn at each other. to tackle him and stay there for the rest of the night.

instead, you’re kind of hoping that you fall asleep ten minutes into the movie. kind of hoping that he gives up and goes home for the night.

which is ridiculous, because really you just want to tether yourself to him. skin to skin, eye to eye.

but you don’t want to drag him down, so it’s probably best if he just leaves.

you lean against the counter, rubbing your eyes. you’re not going to tell peter any of this, obviously, because he’ll try to fix it like the sweet guy he is.

but there’s nothing to fix. just you in this kitchen, all alone.

the microwave beeps, the popcorn ready. the assortment of weird sodas the peter brought over have been equally divided into your best glasses. the candy peter also brought in fancy little bowls. it’s all ready.

just waiting on you now.

peter must think the same, because he calls from the other room. “babe! what about up?”

“nothing that’s going to make me cry please.” you walk into the room then, trying not to seem suspicious.

“‘oh yes, peter, i trust you to pick the movie.’” he grumbles, doing a terrible impression of you.

“there’s ground rules.”

he smiles over at you, jumping up. “do you need help?”

“no, peter,” you shoo him away, even as he takes the popcorn bowl from him. “did you pick a movie?”

“yes.”

you nod, sitting down next to him so that your thighs are touching. but you sit back before he can put an arm around you. “what?”

“i thought you trusted me,” you glance at him, his eyes wide, and a ridiculous pout. “close your eyes.”

you sigh. “really?”

“yes. lest you doubt me.”

you do close your eyes, and feel that tearing in your chest. some type of exhaustion that’s excluded from medical books. that kind that makes you want to crawl into your room and cling to your bed like an antidepressant.

the movie begins playing, dramatic opening music filling your living room. but you don’t open your eyes.

just one more minute.

peter nudges you. “did you fall asleep?” he asks you, amused.

it takes a moment but you open your eyes, coming face to face with him and his squinted eyes. “no, sorry.”

“are you tired?”

“i’m excited for this movie,” you correct, unenthusiastically. “un-pause it.”

peter looks dubious but he does as you ask, still looking at you as you watch the rolling credits.

after a minute of this you sigh. “why are you staring at me.”

“somethings wrong.”

“you chose the movie.”

“with you.”

you look at him, with his brow furrowed in concern. “no, peter.”

“what’s going on, bug?” he asks, ignoring you. he moves closer, even though you hadn’t thought that was physically possible.

“nothing.”

“you’re a terrible liar, c’mon. you’re all drowsy.”

“i’m fine.”

he rolls his eyes like you’ve already been over something and he’s repeating himself. “you sure you want to watch a movie? we could talk. or just cuddle. i’ll take a nap with you.”

“give me that,” you grab the remote from him, frustrated. you press play and stretch away from peter.

he doesn’t protest as you move away from him and hide between the cushions of the couch.

but you know that he doesn’t look away.

“okay,” he says to you, very softly. “we don’t have to talk. just let me know if you need anything.”

you nod, stiffly, and peter finally begins to watch the movie.

and your apartment is comfortable at its 72 degrees, but you suddenly feel very cold inside. missing something that you didn’t know was there.

there’s something scratching your throat, like a physical aptitude of desperation. the movie begins to blur, and your eyes hurt. your chest hurts, like someone’s punched you, but you know that there’s only one person to blame.

just you, and your shivering heart.

you swallow, looking to peter. he’s watching the movie peacefully, throwing popcorn into his mouth.

you feel bad for him. and for yourself.

but it doesn’t stop you from sliding over to him, your arm brushing his.

“peter,” you whisper.

“hmm, bug?”

“will you cuddle with me?”

peter looks over to you, his face soft and his eyes watching yours carefully. “of course.”

his arms goes around your shoulder before you can blink, and he’s crushing you into him. he smells like butter, but his shirt is warm.

you don’t mind being smushed to death, so you just move into him.

he puts his other arm around you too, moving into some type of makeshift hug. “good?”

you nod into his chest.

the two of you sit for a moment. just blissfully holding onto each other, peter squeezing like he’s worried you might disappear.

at least you’re not cold. that feeling is still there, but dimmed, because the feeling of peter is much more welcome.

the movie is irrelevant, and your eyes fall elsewhere, thinking about nothing. and everything. as usual.

peter starts to run his hand up and down your arm and you shiver, making him laugh.

you hope that it’ll bleed into you. that somehow, skin to skin exposure will spread whatever sort of easygoing disease he has. but probably not.

still, peter leans down, resting on your head “hey,” he whispers to you.

“hey,” you say back, as response.

“i love you, you know?”

“i know,” you repeat, smaller now. “i know.”

“okay,” peter smiles down at you, kissing your hair. “as long as you know.”

you sit with that for a moment, still not wanting to say anything to peter about any of this.

but you relent. “will you stay the night?”

peter nuzzles into you, his nose writing words into your scalp. you can feel his heart beating in time with yours. “whatever you want,” he says.

at least there’s that.

*

[tlouadditc]

smoking with roommate!ellie... a thought.

song being thought of while writing: hold on by the internet

WARNINGS: smut [18+, MDNI], fluff if u squint ur eyes, drug use [weed], awkward convo with ellie LMAO, ellie is a horny stoner, fingering, oral [r!receiving], jealousy, love confession. pet names (mostly baby and princess) words: 1.7k, rating: MATURE

note: this is like my first smut [not to mention my first fic] so erm if there are grammar errors or some parts that dont make sense im sorry 😭😭😭 enjoy!

it's been a long week; essay after essay, multiple assignments to turn in, and now you have 3 tests in the next 2 days. you had walked home in the rain, not even bothering to pull out your umbrella. fuck it, you thought, my dorm isn't that far.

you lazily pulled out your keys, unlocking the front door. as soon as you open the door, you're met with a pungent- well, that's harsh; a not-so-pleasant- smell of weed and a random fruity ass candle. you cough and look around to see who the hell is smoking he-

"oh, hey, y/n." ellie was sitting on the couch, manspreading in front of the tv while smoking a blunt. her eyelids were heavy and she had a smug smile. "oh, uh. sorry about the smell.. i took a random candle."

you set your bags down and took your shoes off, waving your hand in front of your face to remove the smell temporarily. "all.. all good." god, she looks good, you thought. she was sitting in a white wifebeater and loose sweatshorts, sitting just right on her hips so you could see her boxers. the way she was looking at you and smiling made your face heat up, thinking thoughts no roommate should think.

she took another drag and patted beside her, signaling for you to join her. you quickly shook your head and said, "gotta change. i got soaked out there."

"i coulda picked you up, babe."

babe? your face was burning hot now as if it wasn't already. you hurriedly walked to your room, blurting out, "i'll be there in a second!"

jesus. ellie had never been this.. flirty before. you've liked her for a while, if you're being kinda honest. you had been in love, if you were completely honest with yourself. she had always been on your mind ever since you moved in with her. walking around, just in boxers and some tank-top that made her arms look deliciously toned- god, she probably doesn't even know what she does to you.

shaking your head, you change out of your completely wet clothes and into some thin shorts and a crop top before walking back out.

"took ya long enough," she said, chuckling. "i was about to just go to sleep."

"sorry, els." you sat beside her on the couch, looking at what was on tv. "american dad? really?"

"i just turned on the tv," she muttered, passing you the blunt. "how was your day?"

you took the blunt into your mouth, taking a looong drag and inhaling, burning your throat slightly. "same old shit," you exhaled. "im just glad this stressful ass week is over."

"stressful, eh? im glad i decided to do this tonight then," she said, turning her attention from the tv onto you.

"me, too."

"sooo," she started, "how are you and whats-his-name?"

"what about him?" you questioned, noticing a slight change in her demeanor when you immediately remembered him. "we're.. not dating. nothing's goin' on."

"what's going on with y'all? i thought you guys were going on dates n' stuff." she sat up, suddenly all in on your relationship status.

"uhm.. it's not him. he's a great person. it's just.." you slightly glanced at her. she was looking like she was anticipating the rest of your sentence.

"the sex is awful," you admit. it was the truth, but not the whole truth; the entire time he was trying to fuck you, you were thinking about ellie. he clearly was only thinking about his own orgasm. whenever he did attempt to do something for you, he either gave up or you had to fake it so he got off of you. he always came before you did. ellie probably wouldn't do any of this, you would think to yourself before making yourself cum after he left.

ellie looks at you, wide eyed, and chuckles. "what?" you ask, defensive.

"i mean.. you wouldn't have thought the dude was a sex god," she mumbled. "he was the nerdiest dude known to man."

"i- i know," you utter, slightly embarrassed. "i don't wanna talk about it anymo-"

"did he make you cum at all?"

your jaw drops, in shock of what she just said. "uh.. no. not at all."

"jesus, you should've told me earlier," she sighs, looking at you with concern- and something else. "i could've helped y'all. or just you."

you don't know if it's just the weed or true feelings coming out of her mouth, but you swear you can feel her staring at your body, feel her moving closer. you slowly put the blunt down in the ashtray and make eye-contact with ellie.

"you know, y/n," she whispers, "i've always wondered why you would go out with these dudes and i'm right here. i see the way you look at me- hell, i've heard you fucking yourself."

your face heats up, quickly embarrassing you. "i- i'm sorry, el-"

you're suddenly cut off by ellie meeting her lips with yours. the kiss is passionate- you can feel the true feelings from ellie, feel the frustration from being ignored. you straddle her crotch, still kissing, slightly rocking back and forth. the friction from your shorts and her crotch has you soaked, whimpering a little into her mouth. she chuckles into the kiss before separating for air. "so needy already," she breathes, gliding her hands from your face, down your sides, and onto the meat of your thighs, rubbing up and down. you slightly nod, looking down, feeling slightly embarrassed of how you look right now.

"hey, look at me." one hand moves from your thigh up to your chin, making you meet eyes with her. ellie's eyes had looked different- darker, in a sense. the way she was looking at you made you wetter than ever before, wondering what she wanted to do with you. "how about we take out some of that stress, yea?"

her hands snaked under your crop top, her warm fingertips meeting your hardened nipples. she smirked. "no bra? you're gonna kill me." taking off your top slowly, her breath hitched. "god." she took one nipple into her mouth, pinching the other one in between her pointer finger and thumb. "els- fuck," you moaned, grinding on her lap. the wet spot in your panties definitely went through your shorts by now. "you're making a mess all over me, pretty girl," she cooed, still pinching your nipple. "tell me what you want."

"i- i want you," you cried, overstimulated by the sensation on your breasts. she let go of your nipple with a loud pop and let go of your nipple, making you whine from the loss of contact. "use your words. cmon, i know you can do it, princess." she sat back, waiting for your response. "p-please.. touch me," you utter, still slightly grinding on her lap.

"good girl," she purrs. she runs her calloused hands from the tops of your breasts down your sides and on the band of your shorts. "let's get these off."

she moves you off of her and slowly peels your shorts off, quietly gasping when she notices the pool of arousal in your lacy panties. "shit, i got you this wet from barely touching you?" she coos, cracking a small smile when she sees how embarrassed you are. "so cute." she runs her pointer finger over your clothed slit, earning a small wail out of you. applying pressure little by little, she watches you as you grow sexually frustrated by the second. "what's wrong, bun? you wanted me to touch you, right?"

"i need m-more, please- oh my god," you cry out, throwing your head back when she rubs small circles on your clit. she applies more and more pressure, making you feel your orgasm build up in the pit of your stomach. "ellie," you loudly moan, arching your back. she's watching you, taking in every feature of your face. she takes note of the way your eyes roll back at every circle she makes. the way your hands pinch your nipples, trying to replicate what she was doing to you. watching you get off makes her even wetter. she mumbles,"fuck it," before basically ripping off your panties off.

"what a pretty pussy," she says, voice barely above a whisper. you can't tell if she's talking to you or to herself, but she studies you; the puffy lips, how it's glistening with slick, how you leak onto the couch- everything. she runs her middle finger along your aching hole, gathering slick on it, then slowly inserts it. you gasp, gummy walls fluttering around the foreign item. she slowly moves in and out, in and out- lewd squelching sounds fill the room. "pleasepleaseplease," you babble, becoming breathless from arousal. "what, baby?" ellie comes up, planting small kisses on your collarbone. with no warning, she adds her ring finger, stretching your entrance and making you weep in her ear.

"els- m'gonna c-cum-" you sob, holding onto her shoulders. she picks up speed, watching you lose your mind. "yeah?" she murmurs, now adding her thumb to rub your bud. "cum on my fingers, princess."

you convulse around her fingers, walls contracting and expanding. your orgasm is blinding- it causes your legs to shake out of control, you loudly moan her name, holding onto her shoulders. she talks you through it; lots of "i know baby, i know"s and "I'm here, angel"'s. once your done, she removes her fingers. "open up," she says, shoving her cum-covered fingers into your mouth. you automatically suck on them, looking into her emerald eyes with innocence. "good girl."

"uhm.. t-thank you, els," you start, moving your hand over her clothed cunt. "let me touch you."

she flashed a small smile before saying, "i'm okay, baby. get some rest." before you could protest, she got up and planted a kiss on your forehead. "let's get you to bed, princess."

PART 2

[lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me]

could you write a quick thing abt hoon and comfort? like the s/o and hoon had an argument and then he makes it up to her. idk if it makes sense but hoon has been running thru my mind lately (never forgetting riki ofc tho)

-⭐️

missed date (request) ♪ park sunghoon

warnings: fluff, comfort, angst if you squint REALLY hard, pet names (angel, babe), gender neutral reader, really bad humor (its completely me), mentions of cuddling, hoon is so sweet :(, i think thats all!

this wasn’t the idea y/n had for the night. it was supposed to be the perfect night. sunghoon was supposed to come over and they were going to cook together and watch movies. that was until he didn’t show up. as y/n ignored the pinging phone, all from sunghoon trying to apologize and explain. the texts ended suddenly, but soon after, a thud comes from the window. what was that? they wonder. they look out the window to see their boyfriend outside, another rock in his hand ready to throw at the window. they open it and yell down at him “what the hell are you doing here sunghoon?”. “to apologize. please let me in y/n it’s really cold. i know im an ice skater and you call me elsa, but the cold does in fact bother me anyway”. they smile faintly at their boyfriends joke. “fine, i’ll be down in a second. go to the door” he smiles up at them as they close the window. they open the door and are immediately pulled into sunghoons arms. "i'm so sorry angel i didn't mean to forget. vocal practice ran late and i was just so tired that i went straight back to the dorm and fell asleep and i didn't wake up to my alarm-" he rambles on trying to explain himself for skipping their date. y/n couldn't help but smile at his adorable, apologetic state. "hey, it's okay hoon. don't worry" they say. "its not okay! you're upset and i'm such a shitty boyfriend!" they feel bad for him as he clearly felt terrible for the accident. they calmly explain to him "babe, im not upset. it was an innocent mistake. i'd much rather you get rest and accidentally miss our date, then not get rest and come tired or completely forget and we fight. its okay. i'm not mad.". "are you sure you're not mad?" he asks. "not at all" they say, smiling faintly at their worried boyfriend. he responds with a smile back, the adorable fangs that had charmed y/n peeking through. "come on, i expect serious cuddles after our missed date" y/n half jokes, "i couldn't think of a better way to make it up to you" sunghoon replies, the adoring tone clear in his voice. he loved his partner, and he couldn't think of a better way to spend his night then cuddling and watching movies with the person he loved most in this world.

masterlist

luckys note!: THROWING ROCKS AT YOUR WINDOW AT MIDNIGHTTT is what this imagine reminded me of and i LOVE it. if there's any 5sos fam reading this: hey im one of you🤭 but i hope this was good this is like my first written imagine so it might be a bit wonky LMAOO so im open to ways to improve my writing!! i hope you all enjoyed and i hope this is what you were looking for ⭐️ !!! thank you sososo much for your request i very much giggled and smiled a lot while writing this

© lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📍) PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN!

@siya-bean @ivyannemarie

(🎀) ANON/EMOJI LIST IS OPEN!

⭐️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Your Six

Warnings: dark elements, stalking, violence.

Another sidequest complete (...or maybe you want more of this one? Let me know your thoughts!)

You have a second shadow. You're not alone. While your pursuer has given themself away, you're in no rush to do the same.

You keep going, slinking from pillar to pillar, balancing your target with whoever seems to have made you one. You keep your back to the wall as you grip your pistol, one ear listening ahead of you, the other behind you. You dip back into a pool of darkness and shuffle your foot to make it sound like you're running, let the noise peter off as you wait

A figure smoothly turns the corner and you stand unseen in the alcove. Shit, you know that goddamn strut. Even when he's trying to be covert, he's a dead giveaway.

What the hell is Hansen doing here? This isn't his kind of job. Unless you're his assignment.

You watch him creep past. He slows as he listens to the silence, stopping completely. You raise the barrel of your gun towards him as you tiptoe out from behind the pillar. He hisses into a cackle, raising his hands.

“Take it easy, toots,” he faces you slowly, “we're not enemies here.”

“Aren't we?” You approach with your hand steadied against your forearm.

“I'm just watching your six. Like a nice guy does.”

“Hansen,” you walk to him until you have the barrel to his back, “what the hell are you doing here? I'm not splitting the fee and I have no problem wasting a bullet in your ass.”

“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty,” he gives a dramatic shiver, unfazed by the gun between his shoulder blades.

“This isn't an open bounty,” you snarl.

“Toots, if you're not gonna use that thing, put it away,” he turns to face you slowly, “at least, that's what I've always been told.”

You shake your head and scoff, lowering the gun halfway. You sneer at him in the darkness and huff, “why are you getting in my way? Again.”

“Again? What– are you talking about San Paolo? I'm flattered you remember–”

“I nearly lost an eye.”

“Really? You're looking good, toots–”

You close your eyes and exhale through your nose, “I don't have time for this.”

You sidestep him and continue down the pillared walkway. You keep along the wall and stop as you sense him following once more. You pull back and holster your gun, just as swiftly slipping free your knife. You spin to bring it just along Hansen’s throat.

“I'll tell you one last time,” you hiss.

“I'm helping–”

“I told you, you're not getting a cent.”

“Trust me, honey, the view is worth it–”

“You are–”

“Deranged. Devoted. A total bottom.”

You bite down another snipe as the stone pillar beside you cracks and powder puffs in the air. Fuck. You dip into the shadows as Hansen shoulders past and raises his gun. Two shots before he crams into the alcove next to you

“Really?” You sneer.

“Tight fit, babe, but always figured it would be,” he chortles as he squints into the darkness. “Think I got th–”

Another shot silences him. You wonder if he's hit but don't really care. You duck down and switch out your blade for your fun. You creep along, listening to the approach of those that pest has drawn in.

You weave in and out of shadows, zeroed in on the echoing footsteps. The first silhouette falls before your silenced shot, the second doesn't notice his comrades collapse until it's too late and he joins him on the stone. The third you don't spend the bullet and use the but of your gun against the back of his skull.

You hear a scuff and raise your gun. Hansen waves and pants as he appears once more.

“Got one,” he puffs proudly, “damn, look at that.” He marvels at the bodies heaped around your feet, “you work fast, baby.. I'm more the type to take it slow.”

“Ugh,” you scowl and turn away.

As you do, you hear Hansen barrel towards you. It's too late for you to get your aim. You dodge as best you can as the rifle levels across from you only to be bowled over from behind.

You hit the ground as a shot fires and Hansen grunts. He fires back and the man lands on the rifle with a rattling gasp.

Hansen hisses and drops to one knee, grasping his side as he wheezes. You sit up, check your gun, and stand. He should've stayed away.

You flinch as suddenly a loud thrum cuts the night air. Fuck. You look above as the helicopter rotor whirls loudly. You harumph and kick a body near your feet.

“Fuck.”

“Don't worry, baby, I can take you on a nice vacation, you don't need the bounty,” he sucks in air and stands, “I got you.”

You look at him and scoff. You sneer and bring your gun up, aiming at his ass as you fire. He yelps and falls back down, grasping his rear. You shake your head and mutter.

“Fucker.”

You spin and walk back the way you came. Dimwit better get the hint. Next time you'll aim higher.

“See ya soon, toots,” he calls after you in a strained grit, “probably in my dreams.”

[dartlekey]

Up and down goes the small pink pill, bouncing across Eddie’s hand. He twists it between his fingers, bounces it across his knuckles - it glances off one of his many rings occasionally, but never drops, is always caught by a steady palm, and flicked back into rotation. Steve watches idly - the movement is mesmerizing, even more so because he’s a little high, relaxing on Eddie’s narrow bed as Eddie scribbles into a notebook. 

Whether the scribbles are song lyrics or campaign ideas Steve doesn’t know; he’s asked before, but Eddie wouldn’t tell. He’s been weirdly uptight all day, actually, more quiet than usual, but asked Steve to stay when he offered to fuck off if Eddie needed some space. (It’d make sense if Eddie needed space, really; they’ve been hanging out so much recently, but there’s something about each other’s company that makes both of them feel safe, and neither of them usually gets much of that, anymore.)

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Steve says, stubbing out the joint in Eddie’s bedside ashtray. “What kinda pill is that?”

Eddie doesn’t glance up, but Steve feels the weight of his attention shift as his fingers pinch the tablet to stillness, at least for the moment. “Estrogen,” he says, sounding contemplative. “The other kind of E.”

Steve frowns, because he’s a little faded, sure, but not high enough for Eddie to be this confusing. “Wait, isn’t that like, hormones? Thought you only sold drugs.”

“Yeah, this is just for me,” Eddie says, then shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

Steve sits up, runs a hand through his hair - the kids like to joke about him having a “Mom-Sense” like Peter Parker has a “Spidey-Sense” (whoever the fuck that is), and they’re not wrong; he can always tell when someone is struggling with themselves. “Yeah?”

Eddie does look up at him, then. Doesn’t exactly look nervous, more… tired, if anything. 

“I think I’m a girl.”

Steve blinks, considers this. Doesn’t consider doubting Eddie, because that’d be fucking stupid - Eddie likes to act impulsive, but someone who can plan eleven-hour campaigns and still have four super-geniuses howling with shock and betrayal at the end of it? Someone like that doesn’t speak without thought. “How come?”

Eddie huffs out a long breath, spins around in the wobbly desk chair. “Wheeler Junior was being a sore loser, said I’m just like his sister. I know he was trying to piss me off, but I can’t stop thinking about it. The thought makes me fucking giddy.”

Steve nods a few times, plucks at a loose thread on Eddie’s comforter. “Huh. Yeah, kind of makes sense, actually.”

Eddie squints at him. “It does?”

Steve shrugs, a little embarrassed, but the weed has loosened his tongue enough to admit, “You’re pretty.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his - her (?) mouth. ”Boys can be pretty.”

“Yeah, but you’re like, girl-pretty. Don’t laugh, it’s a thing! It’s like - like, I can see a guy and go yeah, he’s good looking, and that’s it and I go about my day, but with girls there’s like this sense of awe? It’s like, wow, she’s pretty, can I get her to smile? I kinda wanna know what her hair smells like.”

Eddie stares at him incredulously, and Steve gives an annoyed huff, only just manages to restrain himself from overexplaining how last week he actually thought he was bi for a hot second, before he realized that apart from Eddie, guys still seem about as sexually alluring as housetrained rats.

Well, not apart from Eddie, now, because it turns out Eddie is a girl. Problem solved.

“So what do I call you now?”

“Hmm?”

“Like…” Steve waves his hand vaguely. “Do you want a new name? Or something?”

Eddie starts bouncing the pill across her fingers again. “No, Eddie is fine. It’s… neutral, I like that. But use girl words, I guess?”

Steve frowns. Maybe he is too high for this. “Like… babe? Sweetheart?”

Eddie barely manages to tamp down on a laugh. “Like she and her, dude. Like Eddie’s driving the other girls to Nancy’s because Robin doesn’t have a car and Max and El are underage. Five minutes as a girl and you already want to climb me like a tree, is that it?”

Steve blushes, lobs Eddie’s dog-eared copy of the Silmarillion at her, which she dodges expertly, cackling in that wild way that she has. Still Eddie. Still pretty. “Shut up, it’s not like that,” Steve grumbles, and Eddie grins, tugging her hair in front of her mouth. “Keep telling yourself that, big boy.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

not sure if you have done something like this before but can you do one where the reader is the type to call everyone pet names? Kind of like Caine does, like "my dear", "darling", stuff like that

TADC cast x reader who calls them pet names!

ooouuugh characters who call people names of endearment habitually my beloved <33 gotta be one of my favorite genres of character; side eyes itward and dick knubbler and caine unrelated to everything im so mad it took me so long to listen to psycho teddy ive literally had it on loop all day and yesterday while i write RAAAAAAAH romantic leaning by the way! though some can be platonic if you squint, i think!!

CAINE:

honestly i think caine only calls people endearing names platonically and on occasion, but i think you calling him the same style of names it makes his habit more prevalent. i think the first time you call him something like dear, hon, or darling, he kind of does a double take. i mean, hes always the one saying names, but hes never really... been the one on the receiving end... now im not sure if you wanted this to be platonic or romantic, but i think regardless of which this one is; caine loves it and makes it known. you guys experiment to see which names are his favorite eheeh

POMNI:

i think it would take her some time to get used. i think the main reason she didnt really react to caine calling her those names was due to the shock, just to add some explanation for this post in particular on why she didnt seem to mind... i think if there were any names that made her uncomfortable, she would let you know! does eventually embrace it and probably asks if somethings wrong if you call her by her actual name

RAGATHA:

honestly i can easily see ragatha using terms of endearment for those shes close to (like in a general sense, not just familial or romantically) and i can also see her being a huge fan of being called them! i dont think shes been bold enough to ask to be called them, though, so when you just call her dear and love shes over the moon! probably makes a matching name for you! you become to darling to her dear, the bear to her honey, the sweetheart to her sweetpea, and so on and so forth. i just think... that would be really sweet... you know?

JAX:

calls you a really dumb name in response; like shnookums or something within that ballpark. honestly i think it depends on how you say it, when you say it, and how close you guys are when you call him any endearing name. personally i dont think jax likes public affections, since he kind of views it as vulnerability.... at least when hes on the receiving end. bro is weird like that, you know? only lets you call them any of those names behind closed doors.... thinks... surprises you one day by calling you a normal nickname... since usually its the above example or something completely out of no where like. "Mesopotamia" or "20 ton semi truck carrying 720 thunder fucking pounds of freight" or something just as hyper specific

KINGER:

oh i think he would love it a lot! probably calls you a name back in response, perhaps even one that matches; similar to what ragatha does! maybe its because hes old and he gives off nice dad/grandpa vibes, i can see him calling people that he cares about names of endearment (hes only 48)

thinks... though i do think he pauses the first time trying to process what you just called him.. takes him a few seconds before realizing. kind of like the "oh IM pretty boy!" audio but replace pretty boy with any name

ZOOBLE:

i think zooble is the only one who doesnt like endearing names; like i think in a romantic sense they would like it but only really like babe/baby, and not much else... very picky with what they do like, at least for this instance. definitely going to take some experimenting to see what sticks and what doesnt. funny little scenario but imagine sitting with them trying to find something they like and you call them something absolutely abhorrent, perhaps something akin to the "pookie bear with whipped cream and sprinkles on top" meme but WAAAAAY over the top and zooble just. "absolutely not."

not too mean to harsh with rejecting any names, though. but they are blunt about what they do and dont like

GANGLE:

honestly if this isnt romantic and this is platonic, she sees it the same way as when an older lady calls you a sweet name,... you know? does the ^w^ she does in her character intro short thing, me thinks, whenever you call her any name. very shy and sheepish about calling you any names in return, give her some time shes trying to hype herself up so she can return the same energy! only really likes it when you call her those endearing names, i fear that SOMEONE is going to tease her for it... poor girl.... explodes jax with my neurodivergant brain