#my other lambs took longer though

[cosmicheartz]

ngl i find it kinda funny that most lambs ive seen usually take around a century or more to defeat all the bishops while Solange took like half a decade ( keep in mind she has no combat experience and the red crown does most of the heavy lifiting regarding that )

[jksprincess10]

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife || Marcus Acacius x reader x Emperor Geta

Summary: Emperor Geta surprises you, his paramour, with General Acacius, and he's not very happy about it.

CW: Love confessions, dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, feelings, unprotected p in v, cucking, exhibitionism, voyeurism, violence, threats, knives, creampies, faking orgasms, name calling (whore), pet names (lamb, dove), oral (f and m receiving), crying kink, spitting, angst.

*there will most likely be more parts

(2.8k wordS)

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Falling in love made you reckless.

General Acacius stood behind your door, and you ushered him in, looking around and making sure you were truly alone. You would usually meet elsewhere, far from the roman palace, but you could no longer wait. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and you brought him down to your lips. Slowly, he moved away to scan your face. His brows were furrowed, his eyes, searching for your emotions with worry.

“Are you well?” His voice was raspy, tired from ordering around his soldiers.

“I needed to see you, to talk to you.”

“It seems to me that your intentions are elsewhere.” He chuckled and settled on your unmade bed, creating an indent where he was sitting. It is true that your room was mostly used for other activities.

You looked at his powerful legs, at how his white and gold embroidered tunic sat on his strong body.

“Marcus…” You sat beside him, even though you truly wanted to be on top of him. “I am not sure if we can keep this arrangement going without you knowing…” He turned towards you and took your hands in his, dwarfing yours. His palms were rough, callused by holding weapons and fighting. His silence encouraged you to speak. He was never the one to rush you or speak over you. “I love you, Marcus. I don’t think I can be our Emperor’s toy anymore. I want to leave with you. I beg for your mercy.”

“My dove…” One of his hand tugs on your jaw and you look up at his kind, brown eyes. “I wish I could promise you such a thing. But… I love you. And I feel so foolish.”

“Then, let us enjoy the time we have.” You tugged on him and kissed him feverishly. It was an uncoordinated dance, all teeth and tongues and no softness, due to the emergency lighting up the fires in your bodies. You laid down on your burgundy blanket, pulling him down with you. Your head rested against your gold embroidered pillow as you waited for his reaction when he pulled away from you.

Your body spoke his language, and he looked down at you with hungry eyes. He took off your linen toga and drank you in, the naked curves of your body hypnotizing.

“Temptress… it feels like you were sculpted by the Gods themselves.” Marcus whispers almost painfully after taking off your undergarments. He was a weak man.

Your felt your cheeks heating up, and you bit down on your lip. You tugged on his clothes, and he obliged, undressing completely for your viewing pleasure. His shoulders were large, his throat, inviting. The upper part of his chest was taut and strong, some of the tan skin scarred. His gut was softer, more typical of a man in his late 40s. He was no emperor, but you wanted to worship every inch of him.

“And you… are everything.” You breathed.

Marcus moved down your body, leaving kisses and licks here and there until his face settled between your thighs.

The heavy doors creaked, until they flew open. You gasped as you covered yourself with a part of the blanket, while Marcus, bare, turned around.

Standing against the now closed doors was the emperor himself. His eyes were wild and his lips, tight with anger.

“What do we have here? Are you bedding my paramour, General? Or do my eyes deceive me?” Geta’s tone was eerily calm compared to his expression. He sat in a wooden chair near your bed, upholstered with fine red silk. He looked regal with his toga picta in colors matching Marcus’s attire, and his golden laurel wreath at his brow.

You looked down at Marcus with a warning.

“I am the one who pursued him, my lord.” You lied effortlessly.

General Acacius’s eyes were closed, his fists, clenched.

“Is this the truth, General? How long has this affair been going on? Do not deceit me now.”

In his white hands, he played with a small knife like it was a toy and not a tool of violence.

“I am as responsible as she is, my lord. It has been happening for six months.”

“I am hurt, truly to see where your priorities lie. I thought you were different. But all men are weak in the face of beauty. And you... my dear.” His gaze seemed to pierce through you like the knife he held. “You are a whore.”

You bowed down your head, ashamed.

Geta seemed to think for a moment, the tip of his knife resting against his lip as he looked at you, and then at Marcus.

“So? Do not stop on my account. Entertain me. Marcus, if you pleasure her well, I will disregard this little incident. But if you’re as pathetic as you look right now in bed…” Rising, he moves closer, letting the blade of his knife rest against Marcus’s throat. The General stayed still. “I will gut both of you.”

“Yes, my lord.” Marcus swallowed difficultly against the blade. Satisfied, Geta smirked and pushed the chair closer to have a better view, before sitting down. The knife sat on his lap, a constant reminder of the danger.

General Acacius settled between your open thighs again, and this time, you felt truly exposed. Emperor Geta watched you like a hawk. You tried to relax your body against the pillows, you closed your eyes even though you felt observed, and you concentrated on the sensations. Marcus licked through your folds, tentatively, softly. Your fingers tangled in his greying curls to soothe him, and it did; his shoulders relaxing under your thighs. He licked from your hole to your clit, concentrating the tip of his tongue there, putting pressure, before lapping energetically.

“She usually moans when I do this to her.” Geta commented and shrugged. “Give her more, General.”

Marcus’ lips latched onto your clit, alternating between licking and sucking as you let out shy moans. You were weary of being watched and judged on your performance.

“Give. Her. More. General.” Geta repeated in a clipped tone. “Treat her like the whore she is.”

Without waiting, two of Marcus’ digits entered your hole, crossing the path of pleasure and pain. You wailed and moved a bit in discomfort. The Emperor, who did not know the difference smiled in satisfaction.

Your lover’s lips left your bundle of nerves to kiss your thigh in apology. You grabbed onto his curls again and brought him back to your core, pleading for him to make you come even though your mind was entirely elsewhere.

His big hazel eyes looked up at you in worry as he sucked on your clit, his fingers moving slowly.

“I will be fine.” You mouthed to him.

He made a come-hitter motion with his digits as he pulled them almost all the way out, then in. His tongue still worked on your core. You tried to detach yourself from the situation, but maybe, just this once, you could pretend to orgasm. You gave your best performance, moaning and shaking under his ministrations.

Marcus’ inquisitive eyes could see through your lies. If this was truly the last time, he wanted it to be real. But he had little control over this situation.

“Let us see if you can do better with your cock, General. Or else I might have to take over.” Geta threatened as he looked at him with a terrifying smile.

Marcus hid his jealousy well. The emperor got on his feet and hovered near the bed as he watched Acacius guiding the tip of his cock through your folds. His movements were stiff, uncertain.

“Take me like he is not here.” You whispered in the shell of his ear, before biting down on his lobe to encourage him. Marcus grunted, in pleasure and in frustration as he filled you up inch by inch. He was big, and you would usually need more time to be able to take him properly, but time was not on your side anymore.

Geta sat back down and watched, a predatory glint in his eye. His traitorous body dared to be aroused in the face of your pleasure, a tent forming in his robes. His hand tightened on his knife as he resisted to touch himself, his ego bruised.

When Marcus’ hips were flush with yours, he stopped for a few seconds, letting you adjust to him. You nodded to spur him on. His rough hands held your thighs open for him as he started moving slowly, but powerfully. His lips explored your arched torso, licking the fat of a breast, taking a hardened nipple in the warmth of his mouth to nip and suck at it. He still wanted the experience to be enjoyable for you.

Geta mimicked a yawn, and Marcus looked at him with angry eyes and tight lips. At this time, Marcus wanted to kill him. Even if he was supposed to bow to his childish whims, he fantasized to see his head fall from his shoulders.

“Fuck her like you mean it, Marcus.”

The general manhandled you into a new position, facing away from him and your behind up in the air. You pushed your ass against him, begging for more.

“You seem to be enjoying it even though you refuse to admit it, my lord.” Marcus responded as he looked down at Geta’s lap in disgust.

Emperor Geta’s cheeks reddened and for once, he was silent. Your lover guided his cock through your folds and filled you to the hilt. This new position let you focus on your pleasure. Marcus snapped his hips fast and hard, making you gasp as he hit the deepest parts of you.

“Touch yourself, dove.” He whispered in your ear as he bent over your back to get a look at your face.

“Y-yes.” Your fingers came down your body to circle your clit as Marcus kept fucking you roughly. You liked the beast hiding inside of him, the warrior with a bruised ego who wanted to prove himself. You could hear his groans; you could feel how he was still holding back until both you and the Emperor were satisfied.

Geta was up again, dangerously close, knife still in view. He pulled on the strands of your hair to make you look up at him, your expression contorted with true pleasure, your mouth hanging open and your eyes glazed over.

“That’s it. Beautiful.” The Emperor’s eyes were heavy with lust.

For once, he seemed satisfied.

“Open your traitorous mouth.” He ordered and you did, while Marcus hit your g-spot again and again, and while your clumsily caressed yourself. Geta’s spit landed in your mouth.

“Swallow. There it is. Good girl. Now you remember who you belong too.” He caressed your cheek with the back of the blade, and Marcus slowed, conscious of the weapon on your cheek.

The knife grazed your skin, leaving drops of crimson in its wake. But thankfully, that was the only injury. The knife was pulled away, and instead, Geta’s dry lips were on yours. His tongue swallowed your moans as Marcus hips snapped violently against your ass, sending waves of pleasure through you. You were only an instrument to their pleasure, a means to an end.

Geta’s lips left yours, but his gaze never truly left them.

“You may finish now.”

Your movements faltered as you gushed around Marcus’ cock. You hated how the presence of the two men now made you even wetter. But you were encouraged by lust and hate. Marcus’ seed filled you up as he groaned one last time, with a final snap of his hips.

“I still think your performance needs… improvement. And I am not done punishing you, General. So please, sit back and watch.” Geta said as he motioned for Marcus to move away from the bed. You heard a soft apology from your lover, you felt a kiss in your sweaty hair. And the General obeyed, sitting on the chair the Emperor had used earlier to watch them. His knuckles were white from holding on the chair too tightly.

Geta’s picta fell to the floor, and you felt like the fabric, your body discarded on the bed without love and care. Geta’s hands, soft like a man’s who hadn’t worked in a day, turned you around and pushed you to the floor. You scrambled to your knees in front of the bed, where he had sat bare for you, his red, leaking cock presented to your mouth like a present.

“Suck. Now.” Your hand wrapped around the base, and you obediently pulled his length into your mouth. He wasn’t as difficult as Marcus to take, but still you wanted to imagine it was your lover instead. You sucked from the base up, licking his tip, tasting the salt and the soap on his skin. You dared a glance at Marcus. He watched, but he seemed elsewhere, dissociating.

“Does she please you like this, General?” The Emperor asked mockingly as he grabbed on to the back of your head, pushing himself deeper as you gagged.

“Only when she wants it. I would never force her hand. I am no monster, I am merciful.” Marcus responded in a clipped, dangerous tone as he came back to reality.

“Truly? I would have expected more from a man who is a monster on the battlefield. A man who can take on three easily.”

You swallowed around Geta and tried to please him as much as you could, sucking, hollowing your cheeks how he liked. And finally, that reduced him to silence, only letting out moans. You didn’t dare looking back at your lover. You were still scared for your life.

The Emperor grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you off him as you looked up at him with eyes wet with worry.

“You know where I want to plant my seed, little lamb.” He snarled, and sat back on your pillows, a cocky grin on his lips as he stared at the General.   “Look at him while you ride my cock.” He ordered as you scrambled to your feet. You positioned yourself on his lap, and he wrapped his arm around your breasts, keeping you near him.

Since the Emperor could not see your expression, you let your tears roam free. Acacius kept still, Geta could not see the empathy in his eyes. He would destroy them.

Aided by your wetness and Marcus’ spend, Geta entered your walls easily. He held you still as thrusted up roughly, and you felt the dig of his teeth in your shoulder, that would surely leave a mark. When he went to bite your cheek, he felt the saltiness of your tears on his tongue. He turned your head at an impossible angle that strained your neck and licked your cheeks clean. You hid your disgust.

“Don’t cry, little lamb. It only makes me want to fuck you even harder.”

“I apologize, my lord.” It came out as a whine when he started fucking up into you roughly.

“I want you to come on my cock while he watches.” It was no suggestion, but an order, that he snarled as he looked at his struggling General. You nodded and used the pads of two of your fingers to draw tight circles on your clit. With one of his hands, Geta kept your head turned to Marcus, so you could look at him while you touched yourself and with a twist of shame, you let yourself find your pleasure, gushing around Geta’s cock.

Geta kept fucking you through your orgasm, his rhythm faltering when he also came, filling you with his seed.

“Good job, my sweet lamb. You did so well for your Emperor.” Geta praised as he pushed you off him, and you landed on your stomach, hiding your face in your soft blankets. You vaguely felt fingers going through your slit, which made you yelp weakly from how swollen your cunt was.

“I can admit she tastes delicious with both of our seeds, General.” Geta said as he got off the bed, licking his fingers clean.  “Now now, you have entertained me enough, and I will spare you. For now.”

The Emperor left, leaving the ornate doors open behind him. Marcus put his clothes back on, and you felt his calloused hand on your lower back. You were so desperate for his touch, for his arms holding you as you wept.

“I will send a servant to prepare a warm bath for you. I apologize, but I cannot afford to stay. For your safety.”  

You didn’t even look at him, only when he left, you lifted your head you could see how he had taken his usual posture, back straight and proud.  You implored the Gods silently to put him on your path again.

[thisfanisgonesorry]

grand finale — the 141

kinktober day 31: gangbang (w/ price, gaz, soap, ghost, alej + rudy)

pt 1 // wc: 10,067 :P sorry for dying

tags: smut, gangbang, light fee use, light intox, overstimulation, lots of cum obvi;; a little ooc but theyre thinking w their dicks. y/n has the best pussy in the world (canon)

♡

Captain Price was beyond pissed; he’d done his ‘display of affection’ a few weeks ago, and every few days since, the other men got a little more bold in their actions. What started as a few short sentences of teasing flirtatiousness, ended up in grabbing hands and genuine neglect for Price.

He was well aware of the outcome that was likely to happen, and he understood the consequences and risks of letting his friends watch him fuck his girl, but he was okay with that. He was okay with his friends stroking their dicks to her and to what he’d let them see because he thought he ingrained it into their heads that she was his girl, until that message was no longer the part they paid attention to.

It all clicked into place when he saw Mactavish with his hand wrapped around my waist. So he called to action, inviting them over for drinks again and they all thought it was harmless, snickering to themselves and getting tipsy off of John’s fine bourbon. He was encouraging them to drink up, making them soft and pliable, ‘easy to manipulate’ in his brisk words.

All was well until I plopped down on the coffee table in front of them, wearing just a skirt and a lace bra.

They all groaned inwardly, and John scowled slightly. “Don’t react like��that.” He warned as he toyed with my hair, pushing it around, out of my face and adjusting it, making sure I looked as pretty as I could.

They quickly started pointing fingers, biting at whose fault it was that they got caught, realising that he’d suckered them into a deal of getting them drunk just to reprimand and punish them. Meanwhile, John’s strong hands spread my thighs apart, revealing the sticky and glistening pussy to them, causing them to die down from their rowdy argument.

“You’re allowed to touch her.” He spoke with a dismissive shrug as if the intentions for this one were obvious. It was like locking a lamb with a pack of wolves, their hands immediately reaching forward to touch what they could.

He walked around the coffee table again, this time covered with a plush blanket which the boys seemed to ignore or chalk up to as some weird table cover, he took perch in front of my legs, kneeling and pressing a kiss on my neck.

“Wanna tell ‘em, or see how long it takes?”

“Mhm.. I wanna see.”

He gave a small chuckle, pressing more kisses on the expanse of my neck. “Cruel baby.” He muttered to himself, his hands fumbling slightly with his belt. “You’re all prepped up, ain’t you, princess? Tell ‘em.”

“Fucked myself.” I mumbled, though he beckoned more. “Liked being watched.”

“She liked it a whole lot.” He slid in slowly, letting his words linger in the air as a breathy whine escaped me. “Almost too much but I ‘aven’t got anythin’ to worry about, right, lads?” The sarcasm dripped off his tongue and was met by an awkward silence as they endured this again.

I laid back on the table, resting on my elbows as he started thrusting at a gracious pace, hands on my hips as he took control, easily gliding in and out from the pre-worked slickness and they all peered over his shoulders, getting a better view than they did previously. They sipped their bourbon calmly while their thoughts ran wild.

“I said you’re allowed to touch her.” He cursed, they knew he didn’t like repeating himself, so they jerked to attention, forming a circle around me while they started touching what they could. 

Simon’s hands took firm place on my chest, while the others groped and grabbed at my ass and thighs. They tried fighting Simon’s greedy hands for the tiniest modicum of space but his hands were too large for them to win. Alejandro’s hands tried to grab at my legs, though the lack of space due to the others caused him to move upwards, cupping my face and neck, moving the hair out of my face as it began to dampen up from sweat.

“That’s it, baby girl, all worked up f’me, ey?”

He was met with a trail of moans, whines and groans (not all of which were from me); Price growled at the way I gushed and twitched around him at the actions of the other men, the wet sounds filled the room and he was selfishly working himself close to finish.

“Please.” I spoke under my breath, squirming against him with want. “God, not enough, need more.”

His large fingers started rubbing on my clit when he realised the other men weren’t going to, whether out of respect or fear was up for interpretation but he simply let it linger.

“So god damn needy, gonna cum on my cock, yeah?” His words stayed harsh, trying to drive me close to orgasm. This was the farthest thing from punishment, and John knew that, so he didn’t plan on treating it like one.

I whined, grabbing hold of the blanket and his arm, digging my fingernails into the flesh of his wrist as he continued to fuck into me smoothly. His actions, while selfish, were exactly how I needed him, and it seemed he knew that as well. 

“Johnny—”

His dick twitched inside me. “Yeah, princess, keep moaning for me. Y’don’t even gotta talk, baby, just make those pretty noises, you know what it does to me. Look what’s it doin’ to the lads.” He beckoned on, his hands glued to my hips and clit respectively, knowing the stimulation the other few men were giving me would be more than enough to drive me closer and closer, he could get away with being just a little more selfish, just this once.

Naturally, he felt aggressive, he felt the need to claim up my insides, have his cum leak out of me while one of the others eats me out, tasting his spend while they desperately try to ignore it. He needed to be rough, in the back of his mind, he had to show his display of strength to them, to show them not to cross him again.

This was an act of kindness — and they needed to act like it.

“Shit, ‘m close.” I choked out, my hips bucking against him.

“Yeah?” He laughed. “You like it way more when they’re touching you, is that it, princess?”

I nodded weakly, and his actions didn’t falter in the slightest. He clenched his jaw with his eyes glazing over slightly while he leant over me, pushing his hips as deep as they could go for the final stretch.

“Cum on my cock, princess, show me how good you feel. Cry out f’me, make some noise.” He purred, his head dipping close to mine. “Show the boys. Put on a show for us, baby, I know you like that.”

My head fell back, brushing helplessly against the plush blanket, Alejandro’s sweet hands cradling my head. He carefully watched my body with gritted teeth and a tense jaw, though it didn’t affect the soft grip he held me in.

As I snapped from all the contact on my body, I clenched down around him, hearing an ‘oh god’ fall from his lips. His groans stuttered slightly, his impending orgasm finally crashing him when my walls started spasming around him, loud cries falling from my mouth as I grabbed at him, trying to ground myself through the climax.

“That’s it, that’s it.” He cooed as his dick twitched, his hot cum hitting my walls and he idly kept thrusting, trying to push it into my cervix. My vision spotted, everything going white-hot, and I was sure to put on a special show just for his men.

He eventually pulled out, watching it leak out of the messy hole and onto the softness below it as I went limp once again on the table.

He huffed in amusement, glancing over my relaxed body. He rolled his shoulders as he fiddled with his pants, adjusting them to professionalism and sitting back down on the couch. The men surrounding him paused their movements, hesitantly pulling away from me.

Alejandro kept his soft gaze fixated on me, holding the back of my head and running his fingers through my hair, making sure to push the sweat drenched strands out of my face, keeping me as pretty and presentable as he could.

John completely relaxed, leaning and spreading his arms out to cover the entire back of the couch, spreading his legs slightly as he watched the men with a quirked eyebrow, he tilted his head slightly, and he chuckled lowly once again.

“Don’t all go at once.” He joked. The room stayed silent, so after a few seconds, he continued. “Well? ‘s someone gonna go first? Take turns?” He gestured loosely with a turn of the wrist, looking like the cat who got the cream.

He was met with another silence, which he again filled quickly. “I said you could touch her?” He reminded the men, causing things to click into place. “Go on, keep her company? Treat her real nice. Don't she deserve it?” He spoke sweetly with an edge of condescension.

Mactavish gave a side eye glance at the domineering Captain, tilting his head and trying to smooth the venom that threatened to spit when he talked. “What’s the catch?”

“Don’t cum inside her.” He shrugged. “Otherwise do whatever you want. As long as she likes it.” 

“Don’t cum inside her?” He repeated it back like he didn’t believe it, like there was some sort of fine-print in those words, and agreeing to it would damn his soul to suicide runs every morning for the next 3 months.

“That’s f’me only, yeah? Surely you understand?” The ice in his whiskey clinked together as he sipped it slowly, his eyes bore into Johnny, almost like a dare.

The duos all hesitated for their own respective reasons, though Kyle knew Price. He stood up, and took place where John was and I propped myself back up on my elbows, his breath catching at the lust-filled glazed-over look that returned his gaze.

“What? No one else ‘s gonna do it.” He spoke to the men’s stalkerish gazes, using it as an excuse to momentarily avoid my eye contact.

“Thatt’a boy.” He tilted his head downwards in an approving nod when Garrick glanced over his shoulder, they shared a moment of understanding eye contact.

He moved the position around enough where I was still lying comfortably, though enough where Price could relax and get a decent view without moving around. Why bite the hand that feeds? He thinks to himself, trying to make it so John could hover over his actions, and control his every move without much of having to move his neck in the slightest.

Kyle knew as well as anyone, that one wrong move on John’s girl and he’d be grabbed by the scruff of the neck and dragged to god-knows-where. While Mactavish theorised and over-analysed the subtext of those words, he simply knew what they meant. ‘Don’t make her unhappy’; so he took those words to heart.

He unbuckled his belt, feeling the peering eyes swallow in his every movement. One hand fiddled with his pants and worked on removing them, while the other ran up the smooth skin of my stomach, giving a soft squeeze to my breast with a low groan.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, I’m okay, Kyle.” I nodded, and he simply nodded back, his words catching in his throat.

There was an itching paranoia to not fuck it up, he stroked himself slowly as his mind lingered on what he was going to do. He knew what he wanted to do, but this wasn’t his girl, there was no way he could do those sorts of things in front of her boyfriend and not end up on some sort of personal hit-list. 

His hand reached for my thigh, lifting it up slightly to spread my legs. He watched John’s cum ooze out of me, and he slid in with a soft groan. “Jesus—” He hissed, hooking the curve of my knee into the curve of his elbow as he sank down to the hilt. He took a moment to regain his composure when I was still twitching around him so he could feel the occasional clench while he tried desperately to keep himself in control.

I arched my back into him, moaning softly and grabbing onto the sheets. John had given me instructions to simply lie there and take it, only speak up when something was wrong. It wasn’t my job to do anything that would get them off faster besides oft conversation. They simply had to make me feel good while working themselves to finish — this was about me.

Kyle began to mimic the thrusting that Price had previously done, and he’d gotten it down to perfection, though there was a slight awkwardness as he shuffled around on his knees.

The slickness swallowed him perfectly, and his head dropped forward, going completely limp. “Fuck, that’s good.” I whined out.

“Yeah?” My words were met back with a raspy plea of approval. “Jus’ tryna treat you right, doll.”

John interjected, noticing the pattern of Kyle fucking into me the same way he was prior. “Are you gonna fuck her or what?” He spoke dryly.

“What?”

“You’re doing what I was doing. Fuck her like how you want to fuck her.”

“Don’t say that.” Garrick gritted his teeth, his movements faltering. “How you fuck her is good f’her, gets ‘er off.” He tried to defend his actions, but while it was partly that, it did have a lot to do with not stepping on his best friend’s toes.

“She can take it.”

“God damn.” He groaned. “Lay back, sweet thing, let me—”

I leant back, and Kyle hovered over me completely, pushing my thigh to go over his shoulder. His hands reached my hips and his head dipped between my chest, staying there for a moment as he thrust at his own pace. It was slow, but deep and harsh.

“You gonna give him a hand?” John spoke up again, swirling his glass to let the clink of ice fill the air. “I didn’t say you couldn’t keep touching her. Just stay out of each other’s way, no fighting.”

They hesitated, though Soap greedily started grabbing at the thigh that wasn’t on Garrick’s shoulder; The other two were unsure if they wanted to touch me when his body was directly pressed onto mine.

Alejandro was not dissuaded, however. “Head up.” He whispered, I lifted myself up slightly and his hands quickly cupped my scalp again, holding me sweetly in place to make sure I didn’t bang my head. He sat quietly, but he assigned himself to the role of making sure I was okay, he knew the wood table was harsh, and a concussion would be the last thing he wanted, and maybe that was the tiniest bit for selfish reasons but he rationalised it by saying he was being kind.

His fingers delicately ran through my hair, brushing it slightly, and he kept pushing it out of my face. He was deliberate, and very gentle and kind with his actions.

Kyle’s head dipped to press kisses onto my neck, licking stripes as he restrained the urge to sink his teeth in. “God, this pussy is so fucking good.” He let out a whine, his hips speeding up slightly. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even think I deserve it.”

His words rambled on as the squelching noise increased in volume, and his eyes were practically rolling back into his skull the longer that he was buried inside of me. He sunk his teeth into my neck, then licked the teeth marks.

“Better than you imagined, huh?” Price joked, earning a mindless nod in response as my high pitched moans filled the air. “Tell the boys how she feels.”

“Like fuckin’ heaven.” He started, tripping over his words slightly. “Still twitchin’ ‘round me. So fuckin’ warm, so fuckin’ wet, so god damn fuckin’ tight.”

John let out an amused hum, idly tapping his finger on the side of his glass as he sipped, watching the way Kyle lost himself inside of me. He tilted his head with a smirk, noticing one key detail that Garrick was too pussy-drunk to realise, and he wanted to see how long it took for him to notice.

He continued his drunk ramblings. “Fuck, shouldn’t be allowed to bury my cock into this perfect cunt, too fuckin’ good for me.” He praised, letting the words go straight to my core, and he groaned when he felt me clench around him.

“Gaz.” John said sternly, interjecting to fix the aforementioned issue.

His brain was barely processing anything from the outside world. “Huh?” He responded, not turning to meet his gaze, instead just trying to bite down on my flesh again, needing to leave more marks. Not even to claim, but to keep his mouth busy from the filthy sounds that threatened to escape. Not in front of the lads, he thought to himself.

“Rub her clit, don’t be selfish.”

“Fuck, ‘m sorry, sweetheart.” He tensed up, realising his mistake and dipping his fingers between our bodies. “Can’t think straight, y’feel so good.”

My hands clung to his back as I nodded, my head was limp in Alejandro’s hands as Kyle started running sweet, lazy circles between my legs, hoping it was enough paired with his deep thrusts. His mouth continued to bite and suck at the skin he had access to.

His other hand fiddled with the hemming of the skirt, his brain wracked for anything to say. “God, you’re fuckin’ me stupid.” He laughed softly, knowing it was the only words lingering on the forefront of his mind.

“Ky, please—” I whined and it dragged his attention to my face, with a slight unease of panic, he scanned it for any sign of discomfort. 

“What is it, doll?” He crooned sweetly, cutting me off slightly, inwardly begging that nothing is wrong and it was just a simple request and not something that’d have him dragged out of here before he could cum, he loathed the idea of being pulled out and having to go back to his quarters and stroke himself off to the mere fleeting memory of how good I felt.

He felt like his prayers were answered when I nodded in time to his thrust. “Need more, please.” He let out a sigh of relief, though it was hard to distinguish from his regular heavy breathing.

“If I give you more, you’ll be a sweet thing and cum on my cock, yeah?”

“Mhm, yeah!” I pleaded helplessly, squirming beneath his touch. He took note of the way my hips shuffled around against his lap, and he teetered on his knees slightly to ease the tension.

“I know what you need.” He tried to croon, though his voice was rasping and broke between groans. He tried to move our hips around.

“Please, give it to me, please—”

“God, where the fuck is it?” He growled, he pushed my knee to touch my shoulder, I let out a short whine and his face scrunched up at my desperate clenching. “Where is it, sweet thing? C’mon, help me out.”

Price sighed, pitying my incessant whining. He hovered over Kyle’s back, placing one hand on his spine and the other on his hip. “Move down.” He mumbled, watching him shift down. “Up a bit.” He continued throwing slight directions at him until, eventually—

“Oh, fuck!” I cried out as his deep slow thrusts pushed into the spongy spot he was looking for.

“Fuck, there it is.” He almost sobbed. “There you go, doll, fuck.”

John let out a content hum, slumping back on the couch and crossing his leg. He rested his arm on his knee, another slow sip, his eyes lingered on the view in front of him, his dick twitching back to life softly, although he didn’t feed into it.

“Thank you, John.” He babbled as an afterthought as he repeatedly hit the squishy gspot that caused the front of his pants to get damp. “Close, ain’t you, sweetheart?”

“So close, Ky, please, wanna cum.”

“Right with you, doll.” He praised softly, and I instinctively wrapped my leg around his waist, causing a hiss to escape his throat. “Soap, hold her fuckin’ leg down.” He barked slightly, knowing that the slight amount of desire to keep him inside would be enough for him to not leave.

Mactavish stopped his groping and quickly abetted Kyle’s sudden demand, and Johnny seemed to think that following the rules, every tiny command; it would be his ticket out of jail metaphorically and, with how Price treats him, literally. 

“God, wanna cum inside so bad.” He whined, his orgasm impending as I squeezed him tightly. “Wanna bury m’cock in and never leave.”

His hips kept faltering as he struggled to keep up his designated pace. “Don’t stop! Please, so close, Kyle, ‘m gonna—”

“I know, sweet thing, ‘m sorry. Just.. Fuck, how does John do it? I’d just live here if I could.” His words flooded my thoughts and my fingernails dug desperately into his shirt, leaving moon shaped indents on his shoulder blades.

“I struggle.” John shrugged. “You better not cum before she does. Forgot to mention that, thought it was a given. You gotta make her cum.” His grin was cocky as his words crawled into every crevice of Kyle’s brain, as well as the others.

“I know.” He growled. “‘M fuckin’ tryin’, Price.”

His head dipped once again, pressing more kisses onto the soft expanse of my neck, sucking and biting softly with his own desperate need. His hands doubled their speeds on my clit as he continued to struggle with keeping his pace set. 

“Doll, I know you’re so close, you wanna cum so fuckin’ bad.” He choked out. “Need t’feel you cum, please—” His words stopped suddenly, his mind going black and his eyes rolling back. 

I mindlessly chanted his name, feeling it wash over me. He let out a choked groan, feeling me squeeze down on him. “C’mon, ride it out.” He spoke sweetly, trying to hold himself back until my orgasm was completely over.

He noticed that my body went slack, my tight grip against his shoulders let go of his shirt, and he quickly slipped out while he still could. He moved my leg back down and held my skirt up while he jerked himself to completion, his words coming out as a slurred hiss.

“Such a pretty pussy, god damn, gonna cum.” He continued rambling. “Gonna cum all over this pretty cunt. You want that?”

“Please.” I pleaded, throwing my head back further into Alejandro’s hands, earning a quiet coo from him. 

His hands were holding the skirt up while eyeing up the leaky hole. Watching the arousal and what was left of John’s cum just seeped out of it, and the wetness coating his dick as he stroked himself to completion, the imagery itself making his mind run in circles.

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded blankly before cursing under his breath again. “Shit, shit, shit.” He choked out, going over the edge and spilling warm white ropes that covered the ‘perfect pussy.’

His cum covered the mons pubis and dribbled down between the folds, sticking to the slick skin beautifully. If he didn’t know any better, he’d’ve stared for at least an hour at the scene, though he’d quickly rejoined earth with a sigh, tucking himself back into his pants and swiftly moving out of the way for whoever wanted to go next.

Mactavish pushed past Garrick quickly, wanting to get his turn in before Price changed his mind and sent him to the bench again. He didn’t even take a second glance at the mixture of cum that covered me, uncaring for what he was about to be using as lube.

Kyle slumped down onto the couch next to Price so he could catch his breath, and smiled in amusement at the other man’s eagerness. “Good fuckin’ pussy.” He muttered to John with a lopsided grin more-so directed at him.

Mactavish tugged at the skirt with greedy hands, the soft frilly fabric feeling like a barrier when he rubbed it between his calloused fingers. “Get it off.” He mumbled to himself, knowing he was going to do it anyway; his hands worked to peel it off my body, careful enough to not get cum-stains on the cute fabric. Rodolfo gave him a hand, pulling the elastic wide enough that it could be pulled past my thighs without smearing any filth onto it.

His calloused fingers quickly dipped lower, meeting the wet entrance and he slid two into the warmth. His eyes widened slightly at the feel, and he simply felt around, his fingertips brushing against the walls.

“She can take anythin’, right?” Johnny turned to the smug faced Captain. “Nothin’ ‘s off the table?” 

He earned nothing but a coy shrug in response, he let out a short laugh, removing his fingers, seeing them coated with the mixture of cum. His fingers dipped to collect some of Kyles and brought his hand to my mouth. “Open wide, bonnie.” He cooed sweetly.

I opened my mouth lazily, letting him push his fingers into the wetness. I moaned around the digits, swirling my tongue around.

“That’s a good girl.” He praised, with a tinge of jealousy hanging off the words.

He removed his clean fingers, and his hands tightly gripped onto my waist. “Bet you’re gonna think about this for weeks, how our big ‘n’ mean Cap’n got a group of scary ‘n’ strong soldiers to treat you like a li’l lady, yeah? Ain’t that right, hen? He’s got a bunch of pussy drunk fools treatin’ you like you’re heaven on earth.”

“I am.” I mumbled back as he rubbed the head of his cock up and down the wet slit awkwardly, holding my hips enough where Garrick’s cum wouldn’t smear off, though they stuck to between my thighs and he knew that Kyle’s cum would stain the front of his pants. It riled him up, and they all silently yet mutually agreed that they wanted to see the cumdump at the end.

“Yeah, ‘course you are.” He smiled slightly. “How y’want me to fuck you?”

“Hard, Johnny.” I squirmed at the way he fucked the slit. The entire time, he had a grin plastered on his face, especially while pushing himself in slowly, closing his eyes. His eyes were half-lidded and he took a handful of tit, bullying his way into the slick space.

“Hard? You wanna ask nicer?” 

“Please, please, Johnny, please, fuck me hard.” I pleaded as I kept moving around, trying to move my hips against his for friction but I was held in place with the firmness of his grip on my waist.

“You’re such a perfect girl.” He spoke, dragging himself all the way out before slamming back in, earning himself a choked cry. “Did Price have to teach you how to beg that good?”

I shook my head hesitantly, and he dragged himself out again, holding it there while he waited for a verbal response. “Mhmhm, no.” I struggled out, earning a murmured ‘liar’ from John.

He tilted his head, pushing back in and repeating the actions, knocking the air out of my lungs. I nodded in time to his thrusts, my eyes unfocused as his movements were harsh, though eventually, he stopped dragging himself out so far but that didn’t mean he relented on the harsh slaps that filled the gaps between my moans.

His hand began rubbing tight circles on my clit. “So sensitive.” He spoke coolly, Garrick’s cum sticking to his palm as he moved without a care for it. His movements were steady, quick and deliberate.

Thin strings of a mixture of cum connected our body, sticking to his pubic bone. His free, clean hand reached up and he ran his fingers through the shaggy mohawk, repeating the motion and slightly gripping onto the hair to hold it out of place as he kept fucking me closer to the edge. It was an odd quirk, but it seemed like he was barely aware that he was doing it besides the way his eyebrows knitted together when he tugged on his own hair by his brain confusing the movements between each hand. 

The hand on my clit kept faltering for the same reason, he let out a low groan as he felt me clench around him. “Don’t cum.” He grunted. “Don’t— Don’t you dare.” The way he spoke was clear with the intent that it was a command, making my head spin.

I tried to balance my breathing, my hand wrapping over my mouth as Ale soothingly stroked my hair, brushing the sweat out of my face again. “Oh, fuck—“ I choked out. “Slow down—“

“He said you can take anything, bonnie, what’s the matter?” He spoke dismissively.

“It’s too much!”

“I don’t fuckin’ care.” He hissed, as he shuffled around, groaning at the slight discomfort from kneeling. Breathy moans left his throat at the pleasure, but the slight grunts and groans were from his knees brushing against the hardwood floor.

“Is someone’s knee acting up?” Price teased.

“Shut the fuck up.” John barked back.

His eyes glazed over slightly when he noticed that I was slowing my breathing to hold off the impending orgasm, his hand snaked up and wrapped tightly around my throat, squeezing enough to falter my composure, causing my smooth breathing to fall to disarray.

“Chugged to those panties, yeah? Still got ‘em.” He confessed, sounding utterly and truly debauched. The words sounded filthy coming from his mouth, and his accent didn’t help. “I’m sure John wants ‘em back but he can have it over m’dead body.” 

“Please—” I cried out, clenching around him both from his words and the pressure from between my legs. “Can’t..”

“You wanna cum? You know what to do.”

“God, please, please, let me cum, please—“ I babbled, repeating the same few words over and over, sounding pitiful as he continued to take what he wanted. Tears pricked my eyes, oversensitive and desperate to cum. “Johnny, please.”

“How can I say no when you sound so pretty like that?” He grunted. “Go on, cum on my cock, you greedy—”

“Watch it.” Price interjected quickly.

Johnny let out a low growl, picking up the pace a little more. He swallowed his thoughts, his mind going blank as he chased his orgasm. “Just cum for me, y/n, clench around me.” His accent was thick and aggressive with need, I panted under him as he tried to keep his movements steady despite the feeling around him.

I cried out as I clamped down on him, tensing around him in a weak attempt to milk him dry. His thrusts faltered slightly as I kept sucking him in and he tried to station his breathing through my climax. Once the climax had drawn out enough for him to pull out, he took a breath of air and dipped his head.

His hair hung low, covering his face as he looked completely down, though he was biting down on his lips so hard they might bleed. “If I can’t cum in your womb, I’ll fuckin’ cum on it.” He moaned, wrapping his hand around mine as he fisted his dick until it twitched in my hand, quickly leaking over my fingers and onto my lower stomach.

The fresh cum was warm and landed freshly onto the expanse of my skin, and his cum mixed slightly with Kyle’s. His hand dipped momentarily to try and wipe off the excess cum from his own thighs, then wiped his hand clean on a fresh part of my skin like a mere rag.

He slumped down on the couch, a fair distance from Price and picked up his drink. He was barely packed away, only enough to be considered barely decent, and he used the vapour on the glass to make his hand feel less slick as the water diluted the mixture of cum. He dried his hands on his cargo pants and leaned back in the chair with a slow sip of the whiskey; his mind was completely blank and he sat there looking like the cat who got the cream just like Garrick.

However, Rodolfo, Alejandro and Simon shared a glance, unsure on who was to go next. There was no shoving, no argument and no rush; they were willing to wait for their turn. Alejandro and Simon were patient men, their ranks proved that. Rodolfo was a well-trained soldier, willing to let his superiors pick first.

“Either of you can go.” Alejandro spoke up clearly, it came across as an order as he carefully stroked my hair out of my face again, using his wrist to wipe the sweat off of my forehead and his eyebrows knitted as he watched the other men.

“Are you sure?” Rodolfo continued, evidently not as an act of disobedience but as a subtle sign of respect. “You can go.”

“I don’t care.” His response was swift. “I want to go last. Someone just go.”

The discussion then moved towards the Ghost. Rodolfo turned to him in an attempt to foist himself last. He was awkwardly sitting there, but Simon stood stern and strong. He was unmoving and composed despite the scene in front of him but his eyes betrayed him as his gaze flicked to the mess on my lower torso.

“Just go.” Simon spoke, continuing Alejandro’s orders but his words were still soft outside of the natural roughness of his voice. He was considerably tense, though he was staying patient and entirely collected.

Rodolfo nodded sharply, taking his order in stride as a respectable soldier, though his erection betrayed his professionalism. He awkwardly stood to attention, meeting between my legs and looking Alejandro in the eyes briefly before he grabbed at my tits.

“Princesa..” He mumbled. “You look so pretty.”

“Thank you.” I purred politely, sounding evidently cock-drunk. 

A handful of words tumbled out of his mouth freely despite my inability to understand spanish. Though it seemed like incoherent ramblings of gibberish as all his sentences muddled together. “Eres una mujer brillante.” The words tumbled out of his mouth. “Déjame tratarte bien.”

His hands groped at my chest idly as his brain went into overdrive. His hands wanted to linger downwards but he was cautious of the drying mess on my stomach. His hands landed on the side of my hips, before he quickly made work on his pants.

“You’ll take me so well, won’t you, princesa?” He continued, hesitantly pushing into the hilt, letting out a short gasp at the ease of it. “Holy— Jesucristo.” He cursed. “Easy fit.” A string of groans left his throat just as easily, his hands dug into the flesh of my thighs as he pulled me closer, moving in tandem.

There was a slight snicker behind him as the others agreed despite the exhaustion from post nut clarity as they sunk into the chairs, sipping the fine liquor and their eyes half-lidded in a weak attempt to stay awake or to fight the urge to go for a round two.

Rudy was a quiet man, only speaking when spoken to. He took this as just another mission, despite his own selfish need. Deep down, he knew he wanted this more than anything, but something deep in his gut churned, he knew this wasn’t his girl and that his superiors were watching, that didn’t dissuade him from chasing the mutual pleasure but he didn’t indulge in the fantasies replaying behind his eyes. The positions, the scenarios, the kinks, the generalised exploration. He watched them keenly, though his hands twitched in restraint.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbled, leaning close to me. His thrusts were precise, though he had to shuffle around in an attempt to find the gspot. “So head empty, that’s it.” His words were a soft coo as he attempted to bring himself down to earth despite his mind being apparently somewhere else.

“Rudy—” I whined out, shuffling my hips to meet his thrusts and try to position him, though it was met with incessant whining once again as I cried out in frustration, too exhausted to use my words.

Price gestured at the two men beside him and in sync, they stood up and each took one side of his hip. They shared a nervous glance as they moved his hips similarly to what worked for them. They were just as tired, and held their breaths until I moaned out the signal they’d done their job. They let out the breath they were holding and slumped back down. Price gave a curt nod of approval, refilling their whiskey and dropping the ice cubes with a clink.

Rodolfo mumbled a ‘gracias’, continuing his movements as he started to hit the good spot. “You have.. The best pussy I’ve ever seen.” He spoke slowly, hesitating over his words. The other men agreed, and admittedly, Simon and Alejandro were excited for what awaited them. They were all experienced with pussy — but there was a mutual agreement that they’d never had anything quite like this.

Eventually, Price had had enough; “Let go.” He ordered sternly though his voice was a low whisper.

He swallowed a groan and tried to turn off his thoughts, though it was only an excuse to obey an order. “Touch yourself for me.” He beckoned me. “Por favor. I want to see it.” I obeyed him just as he did to Price, reaching down to rub my clit for him. He let out a satisfied grunt as his methodical thrusts picked up pace.

“Thank you.” I babbled mindlessly as I rubbed my clit for him, he continued his movements as he wracked his brain for anything he could say that hadn’t already been said.

“There you go, see? You’re not too tired to get yourself off. So needy.” He muttered. “So sensitive.” He’d noticed the sudden tightness at the added sensation from me rubbing myself exactly how I liked. “You’re doing so good, hermosa.”

I nodded blankly, trying to comprehend his words while keeping up with his movements, though he noticed me faltering. “Come on, princesa, you’re creaming on my cock, you're made for..” He trailed off quickly with a sharp inhale. “Eres bien, muy bien.” He praised.

“I’m close.” I whispered. “Please, I’m close.”

He had a lopsided grin, his words were sweet despite the teasing undertone. “That’s it, use your words.” He spoke with his fingernails digging into the plump of my thighs, leaving indents on the flesh. I winced at the feeling though it only fueled me more. 

“So damn wet, creaming all over me, preciosa, look at the ring around my dick.” He rambled to himself helplessly. “I’d do awful things to you if John wasn’t around.” He mumbled, attempting to be out of earshot but whether or not it actually was up for debate, however, it’s not like John responded to his comment.

He was desperately trying to push me over the edge, I was twitching around him from the sensitivity and the impending orgasm. “Want you to cum. Para mi.” He spoke through his groans. “I need you to cum so I can.”

“Rudolfo, please.” I pleaded with him though he beckoned for me to use my words. “I’m right there, don’t stop.” I spoke through teary eyes, the overstimulation getting to me. 

He didn’t plan on stopping, and he felt the weak spasming as another orgasm washed over me completely. The way I took his cock completely through my orgasm was almost too much for him, his breath catching in his throat as he scrunched his face up. He held on as I tried to ride out my orgasm, 

“Mierda, maldita mierda.” He cursed sharply, pulling out and stroking himself once, twice before he spilled out onto my thigh, leaving the white streaks dripping down between my legs. “Casi dentro, ay, eso apestaría.” He tried to laugh awkwardly as he came back to earth, his cum continued to dribble from the tip, smearing it across my thigh before tucking it back away. He stood awkwardly for a moment, taking in the scene in front of him and the scene around him.

He mumbled a quiet ‘gracias’ to Price as he picked up his drink from where he left it and awkwardly moved to one of the chairs away from the couch, not wanting to sit directly next to the man whose girlfriend he’d just fucked and came all over.

Simon reluctantly got up quickly after, handing his drink off to Soap and unbuckling his belt with a clink. “You’re lucky I don’t have the mask on.” He commented, his tone fairly unreadable in the haze of my afterglow. The aftermath was lasting longer and longer and the time between orgasms were shorter and shorter, and my eyes were already quite teary so they both knew there was only so long left before it would begin to be too much. While the other men were simply glad they got their turn, and they were enjoying the view while their dicks got hard once again, there was a slight guilt for what would be of Alejandro if he couldn’t get his turn.

The Ghost clicked his fingers for my attention and once my eyes were on him, he was sliding into the slickness slowly. His shoulders slumped quickly and he let out a low growl. “Okay.” He breathed in sharply through his nose, clearly unexpecting the others to be telling the truth. “Okay, this is a good cunt.” 

He felt me flutter around him while I kept twitching from the overstimulation, and immediately, he let his composure fall and took the situation before him in stride. “They’re so gentle with you.” He spoke with a sense of condescension. “They treat you like you’re fuckin’ glass, ey?”

I nodded weakly, and he slowly began to thrust, dragging it out against the slickness and nuzzling it against the back wall. He found the gspot rather quickly due to his observant nature, and it immediately made me yelp, earning a coo from him.

“I bet you came up with this.” He accused. “Not him, you’re the mastermind behind this, aren’t you?” His words weren’t aggressive, though he spat the words like he wanted the truth and wouldn’t accept any other answer outside of that. He sped up his pace, going harsh and fast, fucking the words out of my head.

“Don’t know what you’re on about.” I managed to stutter out, though he didn’t take that as the answer he wanted or expected. His fingers began rubbing short, slow 8’s onto the sensitive bundle of nerves, earning a flinch away from him but that didn’t stop him.

“You’re torturing us all the time, god, trying to rile us up just so John would get pissed at us.” He continued accusing me, his eyes glued to the slick mess on my lower body. “Then you came up with this sick idea, huh? You get off to it.”

I let out struggling sounds as answers and he just gave a short laugh, continuing his movements though he could tell I was already too close from overstimulation and his harsh words and harsher pace were driving me close.

“I know.” He hummed. “Using your words can be really hard when your head is just so fucking empty.” He tried to speak sweetly, though stifling the aggression wasn’t going to work in the slightest against the one and only Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. “You’re such a good girl when you’re not some cock-drunk slag.”

His words were usually followed by a chuckle, though the air was filled with his groans and growls, and he’d curse under his breath at the tension around him. “You’re swallowing me in, baby.” He grunted. “God, you’re gonna cum from this, aren’t you?”

His words were heavy, and I nodded weakly. “Love it.” I mumbled, though the sentence itself didn’t make a whole lot of sense, he put the dots together on what it meant.

“Yeah, you love being treated like a dirty slag. You love getting your cunt used, getting turned into a fuckin’ cumdump.” His words kept the underlying harshness, though his smug grin made him sound like this was amusing to him.

“I do.” I managed out.

*His words rang around my head like a melody at his smooth words since it was all I could focus on. I was seeing stars and my body ached from all the tension.

The orgasm was quick and sharp, and came (ha) almost out of nowhere; it was short with a cried out ‘oh, fuck’, as I arched into him, my entire body tensing up and Alejandro carefully holding me up.

I fell back down to catch my breath and gazed up at Simon with glazed eyes, he just looked back down with a soft smile, almost pitying me. “Darlin’, that felt amazing but I’m not close yet.”

“Si, please.” I whimpered with no real purpose. He tutted down at me as his actions didn’t stop. My words didn’t string together as I struggled out helpless moans of his name and pleas with no end goal in mind.

“You can take it, baby, just until I cum, yeah? And then you got sweet Alejandro, he’ll treat you real nice too.” He whispered reassuringly, chasing his orgasm. He gave a light pat to my cheek, feeling me pulse around him. “I feel you sucking me in.” He grunted to himself.

“I know you’re close, always right there, dirty fuckin’ slut.” His words were harsh and Price gave a warning glare. “Your greedy pussy keeps begging for more.” His eyes, the whole time, were glued to mine though they would occasionally flicker down to my body to drink me in. His thrusts were quick and strong as he snapped into place, he was cursing and growling under his breath, his hands grabbing at my chest when he didn’t need to hold my hips in place.

I started to sob as he pummelled deep inside of me, Alejandro’s sweet hands wiped them away and Simon let out a soft snicker. “You’re so desperate and sensitive.” His words were heavy with lust. “Don’t you dare cum again, Price didn’t say you had to cum multiple times, hm? And who knows how many you’ve got left in you.”

“Plenty— I’ve got plenty, I can take it all.” I rambled, his movements bullying the air out of my lungs and bouncing me against the soft fabric beneath me. “Please, ‘m gonna cum, I want.. Please, wanna cum.”

His breathing was laboured as I pulsed around him, trying to ride my orgasm out of him, I dipped down to complete myself as short growls left his throat. “Fuck, you’re..” He hissed. “Price got us worshipping this sloppy fucking cunt, naughty girl. Say it.”

“I’m, Ah, I’m a naughty girl.”

He clicked his fingers again to get my attention. “No, say it was your idea. It was your idea to get us to take advantage of this dripping hole, wasn’t it?” It was evident by his clenched jaw and tight-knit brows that he was close but he wasn’t going to cum until I rebutted his claims.

“No! ‘M a good girl!” The words fell smoothly off my tongue and he gripped my face in response, my eyes were glazed over. “I’d never do a thing like that.” I slurred, trying to flutter my eyelashes up at him but it didn’t work on him.

“Liar.” He cursed, slowing his movements just barely. “You must think ‘m stupid. I’m not letting you cum until you tell the truth.” He threatened, and while I didn’t take him seriously, his hands wrapped around my wrist and attempted to hold my hands from him.

“Okay!” I cried out in defeat, earning a beckoned ‘okay?’ as a gesture, I should continue my admittance of defeat. “I did it! It was my idea!” I sobbed, and he continued the pace enough to let my blinding pleasure snap. “God fucking damn, I begged John to let me teach you a lesson—”

“That’a girl, cum on my cock, that’s it.” He spoke softly, turning to give John a smug, shit-eating grin. “See, there you go, that wasn’t hard.” My body ached and the muscles were sensitive, though he continued for a few more thrusts, making sure it was completely over.

His breathing became laboured as he pulled out, my body trembling slightly. “You have everyone fooled that you’re a good girl but you’re just a dirty slag, who just wants to get fucked senseless. You cum so quick and hard, so damn sensitive.” He groaned inwardly, working himself to completion. “Where you want me, y/n? C’mon, bet you’ve rubbed your pretty cunt to this idea.”

The other men cursed at themselves, wishing they’d made the best of it like Simon was, taking it to its full extent. “Anywhere.” I pleaded. “Wherever you want—”

He let out a frustrated grunt while he stroked himself greedily. “That’s not an answer.” He said firmly. “You’ve been such a good girl, so verbal and everything.” He praised backhandedly with the evident annoyance at the lack of answer.

With a sharp hiss, he moved his hips in time with the way he stroked his dick, his face was stone-cold and serious as he tried to quickly cum. Like all the other men, the army had built up his stamina, though being a soldier meant he didn’t have the time to take care of himself fully, learning to only rely on the minimum it took to fulfil his needs.

As much as they hated taking their time, they at least knew this was jerk-off material for at least a few months before the memory began to fade.

“Take it, babe, there you go.” He moaned, small pants of air filling his lungs and he reached around, giving a sharp tug on my hair. “Arch your back for me, that’s it.” He growled, watching me press my stomach into his red, leaking tip. He panted for air with short growls on the exhale, his hand tightly wrapped around my hair and his cock as he worked himself to finish.

He lets out a low, pleased grunt as his cum manages to spurt everywhere — at its peak, it reaches my tits and then dips down to my lower stomach, making a mess on the entirety of the cum-stained flesh. He continued to stroke himself slowly, pushing the last of his cum from the tip before quickly pulling his pants up.

He cleared his throat, and just like that, he was back to his mean old self.

Alejandro carefully took his hands away from me, and moved around the table slowly like he was stalking his prey; he was desperate, beyond so, you could tell from just looking at him and the way he carried himself to kneel between my legs.

His eyes flicked to the mess on my stomach and he let out a low exhale, unbuttoning his pants slowly and furrowing his eyebrows. He rubbed the head up and down the wet slit before sliding in with a grunt. “Good job, querida, you’re doing so good.” He crooned, starting his thrusting before he even reached the hilt.

He leaned forward to press kisses on my neck and chest while he moved, slowly burying his aching cock deeper and deeper. “God, had to watch them fuck you. My dicks so fuckin’ hard.” He spoke mindlessly, letting himself get caught up in the feeling.

My pussy throbbed around him at the stimulation of his movements while he made quick work on my clit, kissing the side of my neck pleasantly. “Can I kiss her?” He pleaded to Price. He answered with a short nod and muttered ‘why not?’

His movements, like the others, were with attempted precision under the fear of being spectated by Captain John Price, though as expected, they couldn’t work to unfaulted perfection.

“Solo déjame hacerte sentir bien, querida.” He mumbled sweetly before pressing a chaste kiss onto my lips. I moaned quietly into his mouth and he took it in stride, picking up the pace and hitting deep inside the slick heat. 

His hand stroked the side of my face, cupping it slightly as he continued pressing kisses along my skin, making me squeeze around him. I was a mess and it was audible and visual to everyone in the room. I was overstimulated, and on the brink of exhaustion as I took everything he could give me.

He noticed the look on my face, he felt guilty that I was so tired, but god, he couldn’t stop now. “One more, querida.” He pleaded with whiney breaths, his languid movements almost overwhelming to my quivering body. 

“Alejandro, it’s a lot.”

“I know, angel, I know.” He spoke sweetly despite the dryness in his throat. “I know you’re tired, but you can do one more, can’t you?” He pleaded, though he was understanding if this was all too much, not that he’d be too pleased about it.

I gave a weak nod from my tear-stained cheeks as his hand stayed cupping my cheek. He pulled away and his hands began to explore my body. “Rub that pretty clit for me, neña, I have to..” His voice trailed off softly, as his hands tried to work around Riley’s cum.

“God, please.” I mindlessly chanted as his hands slightly squeezed at parts of my body, from my breasts to the back of my thighs. I tried to move my fingers quickly in circles but it felt futile, my body going that tingly, numb sensation, the slight searing pain beginning to set in while still being a blinding, white-hot pleasure.

“I have to feel you.” He whispered in explanation, though he continued his sweet, thoughtful actions; he brushed my hair out of my face again and tried to wipe away the sweat forming in some of the crevices. “Dirty girl, messy little thing.” He muttered quietly.

“Your pussy is so good, bebe, buena coño, hm?” He switched smoothly, feeling my twitching when he spoke his native tongue.  “Si, uno más, solo uno más.”

He was gruff, short heavy breaths rasping from his dry throat, but his mind was reeling at the attempt of softness. I couldn’t bear to hurt you — not when you’re so sweet, not when you’re not even mine, he thought to himself as he tried to keep his soft composure. He wanted nothing more than to go hard and fast, to take what he wanted.

“I feel you squeezing me, I know it’s a lot, neña.” His words were sweet as he tried to keep me calm. Tears continued to stream down my face with short moans and she simply hushed them away.

I whimpered under his gentle thrusts, and he continued to try to hush me into calmness. “It’s so much.” I whined.

“It’s okay.” He reassured me. “Just one more for me.” He was careful, he felt the throb of my pussy from sensitivity, it coaxed more out of him as it hugged around his cock perfectly. It was clear that he wasn’t asking, though his encouragement was earnest.

His mouth continued to brush against my flesh and he landed on my lips again. He gave a light slap to the back of my thigh. “I’m trying to be gentle with you, querida.” He spoke smoothly. He continued his movements, his hand holding my thighs into place as he pressed a light kiss on my throat.

“I’m close.”

“Me too, you can do it.” His words were barely above a whisper. “Keep going, neña, you’re right there.” His hips stuttered slightly, struggling to move as I tightened around him, holding him in place. He let out a low groan as his ears perked to my high-pitched moans and whines.

“Alejandro.” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face as I shivered from the numbing pleasure. “Alejandro, like that, don’t stop.”

He continued his movements slowly, “It's hard to go after Ghost and be impressive.” He joked, trying to keep the mood light. “Relax, take a deep breath. Ride it out, milk my fucking cock.” He rasped out, furrowing his eyebrows through the orgasm cascading around him.

I went limp on the table and he wrapped his arms around my torso to hold me up. “Joder, vamos.” He mumbled to himself, kneading my thighs in his hands. “Justo contigo, justo ahí.” 

He was trying to control himself as he neared his edge. I could feel his dick twitching inside of me as he slowed his thrusting to make sure it didn’t hurt me despite it elongating his pleasure. “Trying not to hurt you.” He explained softly. “I’m almost done.”

He quickly slid out with ease and ran his hands up the side of my body, cupping my breast and then my face as he pulled away to spectate the view in front of him. “Tómalo, hermosa.” He grunted, closing his eyes as his orgasm washed over him.

The strings of white cum gushed from his tip, landing on the space of my stomach. It began to gather in the V of my pelvis, dripping down already onto the white-stained flesh. Dry white streaks covered my tits down to my thighs, and his hazy-lidded eyes took in the sight as he rubbed his tip over the mess, smearing his cum around slightly.

“Thank you, cariño.” He muttered sweetly, pressing another chaste kiss onto my lips. “I know you’re sore and tired.” He stroked my cheek softly.

Price let out a soft sigh, patting his thighs and standing up. He placed the empty glass on the blanket and placed his hand on Alejandro’s shoulder. Alej took the hint, putting his dick back in his pants and shuffling them straight as he zipped it up.

“Who’s going to help me clean up?” John announced. The other men were tired, and evidently pussy-drunk from the post-climax haze.

“Do we get a reward?” Mactavish joked coyly, a snicker falling past his lips and earning no more than a sideways glance. John tried to conceal his smug grin, and raised his eyebrows in amusement as he ignored the question.

I was sprawled across the table, legs spread wide still as an act of display. He let a soft smile across his face before he sat down next to me. “Wake up, princess.” He teased. His hand brushed over my forehead, moving the hair and sweat away like Alejandro had done previously. 

“You okay?” He asked softly. I nodded lazily, resting my eyes. “My baby girl is just so fucked out.” He commented with a soft laugh. “Someone get me a wet cloth.” He clicked his fingers, gesturing towards the bathroom.

“I’m tired.” I slurred out.

“You did such a good job, princess.” He praised, holding the wet cloth to my stomach and wiping away the filth. He washed my skin gingerly, watching it collect onto the rag and he tossed it to one of the lads to put away.

There was vague chitter-chatter and the sound of the glasses being taken to the sink, and they walked around cleaning up idly.

He wrapped his arms around my torso, pulling me into a hug, one hand holding my thighs in a cradled position. “That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, smiling softly while picking me up. I nuzzled into his neck, feeling the scratch of his beard. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I sighed, a soft love-filled gaze mixed with my exhaustion. “‘M okay..”

“I know you can take a lot but you can tell me.” He reassured while holding me, his hands rubbing up and down the side of my arm, then he placed a gentle kiss onto the curve of my shoulder. 

He picked me up fully, giving a short glance to the other men as he smiled down at me. “I’m proud of you, princess, you did a good job, I’m gonna take good care of you.” He spoke sweetly as he dismissed the others.

[kittenfangirl20]

Experiment x Scientist Au

Adam sighed rubbing his tired eyes, being a scientist wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Since his divorce with Eve he just threw himself into his job and his employers were more than happy to pile on the workload.

They even offered him a room in his lab so he wouldn't have to commute to work and could just get right to it once he made his morning coffee.

Currently he was doing up some paperwork from the massive pile on his desk, he needed to make a dent in it of Michael would have his fucking head.

Speaking of Michael, his boss came in and handed him a folder.

Michael: We need a weapon.

Easy enough.

Adam: Okay.

Michael: A living weapon. A demon like us that can be the ultimate weapon.

Adam: That will take a lot of time.

Michael narrowed his eyes: You have no longer than six months. And make it a male with no second gender, no need for the need to mate to hinder him.

Adam nodded, they only wanted a living weapon to be deadly and obedient.

Adam: Yes sir.

Michael: Well what are you waiting for Dr. Kadmon? Get to it.

With that he left Adam to plan out what this weapon would look like and what powers he would have.

*Adam worked through the months studying the DNA samples he was given, they would be formed from both Demon DNA and Angel DNA, as the being was formed in the tube Adam noted that he was beautiful, blonde hair, white skin, and red circles on his cheeks, horns came from his head and he had six red and white wings*

Adam: You shall be named Lucifer Morningstar.

*inside the tube Lucifer was listening to the scientist that was called Dr Kadmon, when they were alone Adam would talk to him and he would learn much of his life, his heightened senses told him that Dr Kadmon had the parts of a man and a woman, even though he fathered children, he hadn’t become a mother yet, he trembled in excitement at the thought of taking Adam as his mate and having Adam carry his children, but another part was telling him that he wasn’t built to mate even though he wanted to, it only took five months for Lucifer to be created, in spite of his short height, Lucifer was the most powerful demon ever, just then the fluids from the tube were drained and the tube was lowered down*

Adam: Wake up Lucifer.

*Lucifer’s eyes snapped open, they were red and yellow, he looked at a man dressed as a scientist with lamb like features with gold eyes and short brown hair, his body was covered short velvety fur and he had black wings and wings were rare for demons, he also had large black and gold horns, he lunged at Adam ready to attack*

Adam: Lucifer, it’s me, Adam.

*Lucifer grabbed Adam’s face and smelled the scent of Dr Kadmon*

Lucifer: Adam……… Kadmon?

Adam: Yes, that is my name, let me take you to who you will be working for now.

*Lucifer tilted his head, hearing this*

Lucifer: My master?

Adam: Yes, your master, his name is Michael.

*Adam held out his hand, Lucifer took it and jumped off the platform, he was dressed in a skin tight black body suit that showed off his lean yet muscular figure, Lucifer refused to let go of Adam’s hand as he was led through the facility, many of the other demons cowered in fear at the sight of Lucifer hoping they wouldn’t catch his attention because he could attack and kill them, Lucifer was led into the office of Michael who was sitting at the desk*

Adam: Here is the new weapon.

Michael: Why is he so short?

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[ciaosonounapersonalol]

Ok so we've heard about the bishops regaing some powers after their indoctrination, nothing wrong with that ofc

But what about the bishops gradualy losing it? What about slowly becoming less and less "Godly" and more and more "mortal"

What about Leshy trying to grow a flower and realizing it took longer and more effort than last time? About how the shame hits him when the flower wilts in his hands, dying, petals slipping away from his fingers like his godhood? About the dreadful realization that he couldn't do anything about it, just when he thought he finally could shape his fate to his liking?

What about Heket changing her bandages and noticing that the stain wasn't the faded, dark, reddish-black of ichor, but the vivid red of blood? The almost dysmorphic feeling she has when the smell of iron its her nostrils? How umilianting it feels to try to make a crop wilt or bloom, only for it to remain the exact same? How wrong it feels to not have the feeling of her power flowing trough her veins?

What about Kallamar slowly losing his earing? How each word feels more faded than the last? What were you saying again? I can't hear you i wasn't quite listening. How he feels naked without his beatiful earrings, treasured gifts from his lovers, but also how munch it hurts to even try putting one on? How he slowly learns to read lips just to avoid telling others he can't hear their words? Just another thing you can't do right, can't you Kallamar? How he can't look at himself in the mirror without his bandages on? How guilty he feels when a patient dies because his powes didn't work? How he feels like he could have done more even though he knew he couldn't at the funeral? Watching the patient's loved ones cry at their grave?

How Shamura fails to remember things? How at first it's just small slip-ups? How it worsens? Who's that one? It feels like i should know them but who are they? Why do they look so familiar? What am doing here? Where am i? "Shamura, what's my name?" Why does their voice sound so worried? So... sad? "Your name is... your name... i don't know...". Why are they making that face? Why are they crying? What's wrong? Why does my head hurt so munch? Who's that one?It feels like i should know them but who are they? Why do they look so familiar? What am doing here? Where am i?... who am i? Why does it hurt to see them like this? Calm down Shamura. You're a god. Everything will be fine. It will all be fine. ...right?

And Narinder, oh poor Narinder, how does it feel like to see that damned usurper use your powers? How does it feel like to have the envy eat you inside out when you see them resurrect long-dead followers with ease, while you need help lifing a mere box? Damned chains. You where once a feasome god worthy of praise, now forced to lay in bed in agony because you just can't move today, oh how low did have you fallen, One Below. All of this was supposed to be yours. It was your rightful reward for all those years spent suffering, yet that damned lamb wanted to keep it all to themselves. But your s- the bishops suffered too, didn't they? You thought it would all be worthy in the end, thats what you said to them, and now, where are their souls? Are they still wandering in the Gateway? They must hate you. You where their master. You failed them. The One Who Waits waits no more but he'd rather be dead than this umiliation. Than this pathetic form and existence. They only spared you so you could suffer, yes, that must be it. Wretched thing

[multi-fandom-imagine]

[ wake ] for one muse to wake up to the other at the side of their hospital bed.

A/n: I am not so sure how I feel about this one.

It was a slit second reaction, one you weren’t even sure you would have been able to pull off but you had to try something.

You saw the glint of the knife which lead you to shove the man out of the way.

“Hey! What the-.”

“Always the observant type…weren’t you Y/n.”

That voice, you recognize it from anywhere. Just seeing the man made your skin crawl. “Krauser.” You has to bite your tongue to insult the man though a tight pain in your chest made blood bubble past your lips.

“Looks like our little lamb doesn’t have much time. These parasites, they’re a tricky little thing.”

You didn’t hear much of the conversation between Leon and Krauser. The pain was starting to become to much to handle, the blood slipping past your lips as Luis wrapped his arms around you as he carried you away from the fight. “It’s alright…you’re doing to be alright..I…I’m going to save you…I promise.”

Luis hated how weak he sounded, you didn’t deserve this. Wiping the blood away from his cheek he could barley hear what Leon was telling him but seeing you like this scared him. Pulling out they key in his pocket he glanced at Leon, Krauser long gone. “The lab…I need to get her to the lab.”

Cradling you against his chest, Luis just prayed that he could save you in time. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait for Leon though he was grateful that the man was standing in front of him. “I need too.”

“Go…I’ll catch up.” Leon gave him a nod, you looked so weak in his arms, your veins showing, your blood coating your shirt. “Do me a favor and keep the door unlocked.”

“por supuesto”

Luis tipped his head to the man then took off running as he prayed under his breath. “You’re going to be okay….I promise you’ll be okay.”

•+•

Getting to the lab was the easy part, but this part, this was the moment he was dreading. Laying you down on the bed Luis cupped your cheek, his thumb gliding over the skin. “You’re okay see….I’m going to fix this and you’re going to be okay but you need to do me a favor cariño…you need to hold on…this is going to hurt.”

Slowly opening your eyes, you weakly felt the man cup your hand, you felt metal beneath your finger tips.Your head was spinning, everything was felt like you were stuck in an echo chamber but Luis’s voice was the only thing that was coming in clear. “What do you mean-.”

“lo lamento.”

“Wh-.”

That’s when you felt it, the shocking pain was something like you’ve never felt before. You tried to endure the pain but it did not take long for you to pass out on the bed, Luis calling out your name.

+•+

Jolting awake, you let out a serious of coughs, a hand rubbing your back gently. “Easy…easy.”

Squinting you glanced up at the man, Luis giving you a smile. Lips trembling you wrapped your arms around him for a tight hug. “I have half a mind to slap you.”

Chucking Luis hugged you close as he placed a small kiss to your temple. “I would very much like for my face to remain intact…speaking of which we should really get out of here.”

“Why where are-.” A small yelp escaped your lips as Luis picked you up cradling you in his arms. “No time to talk princesa…”

“I.”

Now in Luis’s arms your buried your face into the man’s chest. You winced at the blaring alarm as the man held you closer though a laugh escaped his lips once he spotted the man. “Hola amigo!”

“Hey enough pleasantries! Get your ass on the jet ski, I rather not die.”

Snorting, Luis let you down. Your knees nearly bucking from under you. “Easy princesa, can’t have you on your knees yet.” Giving you a wink he helped you on the jet ski first then got on himself. “Hold on tight alright.”

Weaving your arms around his wiser you buried your face in the back of his neck. “Is this a bad time to say I get sea sick.”

“Please do not throw up on me.”

Scoffing you placed a kiss to his cheek though you let out a laugh as he speed off following Leon and Ashley.

+•+

You never thought you’d be grateful to step on dry land, sighing you gave Leon a smile then a nod as he walked off to brief Hunnigan on the events you all went through.

“So I think I owe you a big thank you in you know…saving my life.”

Luis scoffed as he grabbed your hand only to place a kiss to the back of it. “It’s the knight’s job to save the princesa.”

Shaking your head a smile graced your lips as you stood on your toes. “Well since that’s case then I think the knight deserves a kiss.”

“Maybe a dinner too?”

Rolling your eyes you let your arms wrap around his neck as you pulled him in for a kiss. “Defiantly a dinner.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist the man lifted you on the air spinning you around, a laugh escaping your lips. “Ah you are wonderful mi amor.”

Giggling you pressed your lips against his for another kiss, your fingers weaving through his hair.

Watching you both, Ashley cupped her hands inform of her. “I’m happy for them but…what about Luis…what’s going to happen to him.”

Rolling his neck, Leon shrugged his shoulders giving Ashley a slight smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Luis Serra died on the island…I’m looking at some guy we found.”

Beaming at Leon, Ashley placed a kiss to the agents cheek. “You’re the best Leon.”

[lordgrimwing]

The Big 5-0-0

(Or, Glorfindel has a gift for his husband)

[for Glorfindel Week, hosted by @glorfindelweek, Day 7]

“Five hundred years!” Exclaimed the shocked tavern keeper.

Glorfindel shrugged as he helped the Man lift the roasted lamb from the cooking fire that also heated the dining room. “Five hundred years is not so long for elves.”

The Man scoffed, taking up a towel in one hand and pushing the steaming carcass from the spit. She wagged a finger at him. “For an Elf with a thousand years ahead of him, maybe, but any marriage that endures longer than kingdoms ought to be celebrated to the fullest.”

A thousand more years felt like pitifully little time to Glorfindel. He certainly would take every opportunity to celebrate every memory if he knew his time in Arda was so limited. How Men, who were lucky if they lived within a stone’s throw of one hundred, went their whole lives without bursting into song and dance in celebration of existence, he’d never understand. 

“I saw that horse you rode here on, so don’t bother saying you don’t have the means to throw a proper party.”

Asfaloth, being an Elvish steed, demanded a certain level of finary when he went out. The bells, however, were entirely Glorfindel’s idea.

“Erestor detests parties, and he says adorning a horse in gems and bells will get me killed—again!” 

She snorted at the jest, passing Glorfindel a platter for the meat he was stripping from the bones, unbothered by the heat that would burn her hands. “And in five hundred years, have you learned only what he dislikes and nothing of what he likes?”

He smiled softly. He knew much of what his beloved liked.

“Should I call all those men back in and ask them to recount tales of wives whose husbands didn’t bring them an anniversary gift?” The tavern keeper threatened. 

She’d cleared the dining room of local patrons until the meal was ready. The gleaming Elf-lord had garnered more raucous attention than she liked when it was her building, table, and chairs at risk, and it hadn’t felt right to ask him to wait in his room until everyone was distracted by good food. The other Men went willingly enough, though Glorfindel could still clearly hear them milling about outside.

“That won’t be necessary, good lady,” he said. “Duty brought me this way, but I made time to find something he will treasure.” He patted the purse tied to his belt.

She shot the purse a dubious look, doubtlessly skeptical that anything that fit in a small bag could adequately encompass the magnitude of a couple’s 500th wedding anniversary. 

“Well,” she settled on. “Don’t say no one warned you if he kicks you out on your ear.”

--

When Glorfindel finally arrived in Imladris, Erestor met him in the narrow pass leading down into the valley, too impatient to wait longer.

“My brightest night star!” Glorfindel said, alighting from Asfaloth’s saddle to sweep the loremaster into his arms. He planted a kiss on his forehead, thrilled by the absence of an audience to their reunion: Erestor disliked people kissing in public almost as much as he disliked parties. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

Erestor huffed but did not pull away. Reaching up, he pulled Glorfindel’s head down to return the kiss, leaving his husband blushing with excitement. 

“You took your time, Dandelion,” the black-haired Elf accused when they separated. “Elrond expected you back a fortnight ago.”

“I admit to tarrying longer than needed for the task he gave me,” Glorfindel said, leading the dusty stallion as the lovers continued down the path hand-in-hand. “But I promise it was not without reason.”

“It had better be a good reason, and not just that you had to climb some mountain to return one of Manwë’s foolish birds to its nest.”

Erestor was with him on that particular occasion, about fifty years before they married, though he had no interest in scaling the last cliffs to return the unfledged eagle to her home. Glorfindel insisted on it, knowing the young bird couldn’t survive the fast-approaching thunderstorm alone in the open and was too wild to keep in with them until the weather cleared. Trusting his skill and light step, Glorfindel climbed alone, the bird wrapped in a cloth to keep her wings and talons contained and secured in a sack over his shoulder, only her head poking out. The task wouldn’t have been challenging if not for the storm. He made it back to the sheltered test just fine, reassuring the flustered eagle parents with a song as he freed their lost eaglet. On the way down, however, his hands split on the rain-soaked stones and fell—only a few feet down to the next ledge, true, but it was enough to leave his heart pounding and senses ringing with the echos of dragon-thunder and flash of balrog-whips overlaying the storm. 

Erestor threatened to knock him out and tie him up the next time such madness came over him when he eventually made it back to safety, dripping wet and jumping at every clash of thunder that came too close. Glorfindel agreed to let him.

“Oh, no, you will find this delay was entirely to your liking,” he promised.

“A lofty claim, indeed,” Erestor said. “I will require proof.”

“When we are both safely home and done with our duties, I will show you.”

--

Glorfindel was sitting, comfortable and cozy, in bed with his embroidery when something hard bounced off his head and landed on the covers next to him.

“I cannot believe you!” 

Erestor’s sitting in an armchair by the window, using the last rays of the setting sun to inspect his gift—Or he had been. Currently, he was standing, slate tablet in one hand, the other still extended from slinging the little dog figurine from the side table at the golden-haired fool sitting in bed. His face was scrunched up, mouth pinched like he’d bitten into a lemon (except he usually had too much self-control to ever react to the unassuming citrus, but the comparison was good enough). 

“Where did you find this? How did you find this?” He brandished the old slate aggressively, for a moment looking as though he might throw it too.

Glorfindel set aside his project. “Is it not to your liking?” 

Perhaps he’d misjudged entirely and he would end up out on his ear just like the tavern keeper warned.

“Not to my liking? Not to my liking?” Erestor lifted the tablet high, gesturing to the small drawings on it with his other hand. “Sunflower, The elf who made these stories died four thousand years ago. How did you come by this?”

He sounded more shocked than angry, and Glorfindel relaxed. “Through much patience and the exchanging of many letters with various collectors of first age relics. I made a detour to collect that on the way back. That’s what delayed my return.”

“Did it not cost a small fortune? I spied no gems missing from your horse’s daft accoutrements.” 

A grin broke across Glorfindel’s face. “I dare say it is worth as much to you.”

Softness spread across his husband’s face and he touched the old slate now with tender, almost reverent fingers as he caressed the time-warn drawings. His eyes clouded with old memories of the past rarely recalled from the careful places he stored them in. “I laughed over this depiction of Lords Celegorm and Curufin when it was only days old! I helped Vekkawë hide his collection in our mattresses when Captain Crímainya came to destroy the ‘defaming misinformation’. I thought I’d never see one again after the Valar sank Beleriand.”

Eyes clearing, he brought the tablet, with its child-like depiction of long-gone beloved lords, to his chest and said, “This is a great treasure. No fortune can take it from me.”

Glorfindel laughed. “I’m glad the Dwarf I bought it from did not know the true value, then, for I am not sure I could have gotten it honestly for that price and would not have departed without it.”

Erestor snorted, muttering “Six pounds of that hideous tack you insist on dressing your horse in would have covered it, no doubt” as he turned away for a moment of privacy to wipe his eyes clear before he accidentally shed tears over the small remnant of his past.

“Asfaloth cannot be parted from his gems when he is afield.” 

Glorfindel opened his arms, and Erestor—after setting the tablet carefully on the side table like it was as fragile as a hollow dove egg and not slab or stone almost as old as the world itself that had survived devastations and travesties unnumbered—fell into his embrace. 

They spent the rest of the night in bed, though neither got much sleep.

[cerberus-new-owner]

coninuing the barbatos head cannon thing

content warning - the mc and barbatos ARE implied to be romantically together, probably very ooc buuuuut... soft cuddly barbs, flufffffff like 0 angst (or the other thing) at all

It was late at night and mc was asleep in Barbatos' arms enjoying well deserved sleep and cuddles after a day full of countless meetings with diavolo and other countless delegates / important figures in the devildom.

Barbatos laid next to them gently running his fingers through their soft hair occasionally kissing the top of their head softly, watching as they shifted in his arms, listening to the sound of their soft breaths. Despite his initial refusal to go to bed, mc falling asleep mid conversation with him seemed to convince him to guide them to his room. If they hadn't had such a death grip on him when he laid them down on his bed, he mightn't be in this situation right now, not like he was complaining.

His little lamb, curled up next to him shifting to get closer to him even in their sleep, it all made him melt almost falling asleep with them in his arms until his tail got in the way of the peaceful environment. He started to drift off the control he had over his tail slipping as he let his tail wrap around their midsection causing Mc to jolt awake from the sudden sliminess of his tail

"I'm sorry my dear, did my tail wake you" he chuckled slightly as he spoke finding the situation amusing his tail still wrapped around them

"I was asleep." They mumbled burying their face in his chest

"I'm sorry little lamb now go back to sleep" he replied a hint of amusement still in his voice.

He stroked their hair kissing the top of their head as they drifted back to sleep Barbatos following a few minutes after his tail still wrapped around them effectively soaking their night wear.

Throughout the night a few crashes barbatos decided to ignore were heard as much as he wanted to make sure nothing bad was happening, (or that Dia wasn't trying to sneak out again) he knew that by doing so he risked being "forced" into a surprise vacation to Diavolo's private beach and having to vacuum the floor several more times than usual to get all the sand that made it into the castle, so instead he cuddled closer to Mc each time a crash was heard, resting his chin on their head before falling asleep again.

-----------------------(time jump to the 'morning')

Barbatos was the first out of the two to wake up admiring Mc for the few minutes extra he got to sleep in on weekends. He smiled gently moving hair out of his partners face before caressing their cheek pressing a few gentle butterfly kisses to their cheeks and forehead. Mc woke up a few minutes later giggling softly as barbatos continued to press kisses to their cheeks before kissing them properly mumbling a 'good morning' against their lips before moving to get up and prepare for the day ahead.

--------------------

woooooo! that was funnnn

much shorter than i was hoping only so much one can talk write about characters sleeping though so

this also took way longer than i was hoping but check out my other things

country roooooooads take me tooooooo the masterlist were i beloooooo

og headcannons that inspired this

[w4gg]

Nobody probably cares but this is how I think the age order in STS goes (+ my head canons on the twins'/Timmy's mom's names)

Timmy

Because duh, he's the only lamb there.

Shaun

In that flashback cutscene at the beginning of the movie, Shaun looked the youngest (also the only one w/ defining features... for whatever reason) and even though he often acts a bit smarter than the other sheep at times, I can't imagine him being older than any of them.

Nuts

NO he's not this low (technically high) because he's a bit absent minded or anything, he's mainly here because of that beginning scene of 'Fruit & Nuts' it just felt like that feeling where even the slightest thing your younger sibling says or does gets you annoyed (coming from an older sibling) Honestly I was kinda considering switching him with Shirley but this makes more sense

Shirley

The middle child (technically). To be completely honest she's here because it just feels right. At first I thought I should make her like second oldest because of that scene with Pidsley (Locked Out) but she's just constantly being used as a hammer space drawer and trampoline IDK it just gives me middle child vibes (don't ask for a better explanation, I cant give you one </3)

Leon & Billy (a.k.a. the twins)

(F.Y.I. I think Leon is the one with the longer head and the other is Billy) Okay, they're definitely not a good enough influence to be this high up but they kind a remind me of (for lack of better comparison atm) Rodrick Heffley; trouble making older brothers who get into trouble with younger siblings and turn them into trouble making trouble makers. Also if we're getting into specifics I say Leon came out the batch first (the left one, just.. you know incase you didn't read the first bit)

Hazel

Before the movie I don't think they really added the characters personalities consistently (especially because of the duplicate bg sheep) so there's not enough for me to go off of, but besides her often being the scared one she's had some moments where she seems a bit mature-er than the ones previously mentioned. At first I was thinking maybe I should put her lower cuz yk she's considered the 'timid' one, but then I thought back to Fluttershy and how shes the oldest out of the main 6 (I think? I haven't rlly watched mlp don't quote me) so now I'm using that to justify my reasoning

(it took me so long to find a good photo bc my laptop was lagging so js ignore the quality ¬¬)

Meryl (a.k.a. Timmy's Mom)

I mean she has a kid she's most likely the oldest. They all definitely respect her (more than Shaun) and treat her like the oldest (e.g. they didn't hesitate to listen to her in TFBC) soo.. self explanatory

;TLDR

Timmy because he's a lamb

Shaun because he looks younger

Nuts because he was annoying in one episode

Shirley because middle child syndrome

Billy & Leon (a.k.a. the twins) because they remind me of immature older siblings

Hazel because she reminds me of mature older siblings

Meryl (a.k.a. Timmy's mom) because she had a kid and the flock listen to her

[felice-jaganshi]

Made With Love

Radioapple Fic

Chapter 1: Lambchops

(This chapter based off fanart from notherpuppet, I love them so much)

The candles were lit and the sigil was drawn in lamb's blood. All that was left was to invoke his name, and see if he actually showed up. If not, at least Alastor could have a nice lamb chop dinner.

“Lucifer, King of Hell, Lord of Pride. I implore thee to grace me with thy presence this evening.” He spoke as sweetly as he could, using every trick he possessed to sound as alluring as possible. He was in his mother's living room, though she no longer lived here… he'd always call it hers. 

 

There was a full minute of silence, standing in the dark room with the candles as the only light. He sighed and began to turn away, when the room suddenly got brighter!

He turned, and saw the fireplace, blaze to life, where it had previously been dark and empty of any kindling at all! Shit! But he was supposed to manifest within the circle so he was contained! He must have done something wrong, now he'd have no control over the devil!

The fire blazed white and out onto the stone hearth stepped a flaming figure with horns and a tail, red glowing eyes locking on Alastor. 

Alastor's face split into an excited grin, “Greetings, your majesty. I'm honored that you actually took the time to visit my humble abode.” He bowed at the waist, but kept eye contact. 

 

“You're alone, human? No… others?” His voice reverberated with the flickering of the flames. He sounded curious, which Alastor hoped was a good thing.

“No, I am not part of any cult or anything. My summoning you was for entirely personal reasons. I beseech You, please hear out my request. I require power. Physical power.”

 

“Oh? And where is my lamb?” He sounded… bored.

“Oh yes, right here your Majesty!” He motioned to the dining table, and at lovely cooked lambchops.

The demon looked over and all the fire left his form, revealing a man. Much shorter than Alastor expected… he wore all white and stepped forward towards the table.

“You cooked it? Damn, that's a first actually.” He looked impressed.

“Well, please enjoy your lamb sire, then may we get down to business?” He smiled at the short devil, examining him. We'll, he's certainly not what Alastor expected the devil to look like, certainly less red… but he is known as The Deceiver for a reason. This is probably just a trick to make Alastor lower his guard or test him into being discourteous, so he can steal his soul without granting his request!

 

Lucifer sat down at the small table, “Well, you might as well join me. You prepared enough lamb to feed two!” He chuckled and kept his beautiful red eyes on Alastor, with a sharp toothy grin. Alastor felt it was more of a demand than a request. 

“If that is what you desire.” He went to get another plate and wine glass before sitting down and pouring them each a glass.

“So, what part of earth have I been summoned to? And what year is it?”

“You're in Louisiana, Sire. And the year is 1927. This is my mother's home, or… was rather…” He kept his smile on, but looked away with a deep sadness in his eyes. 

“I can't bring people back to life, if that's what you were gonna ask for.” Lucifer said softly, feeling pity for the young man. He took a bite of the lamb and his eyes went wide, “Whoa! Did your mom teach you to cook like this?! I'm gonna have to make you my personal chef!” He then dug in enthusiastically. 

“Is that what you'd desire of me for the power I require?” Alastor hadn't touched his food yet, just watching in awe as the devil ate all the way down to cleaning the bones.

 

“Huh? So focused on business. And here I was hoping for some good dinner conversation. Well, before I offer anything to you, I need an idea of what I'm working with here. ‘Power’ is a rather vague concept without context. And since you made me such a delicious offering, I'm feeling gracious enough not to immediately fuck you over.” He rest his chin on his folded hands and smiled softly, eyes half closed as he felt satisfied with a full stomach. 

 

Alastor sighed, “Very well, if I must.” He had hoped to avoid sharing his personal details with the demon, but he was damning his soul anyway. 

“My mother… she was murdered, and I wish to get revenge for her. But I'm not strong enough to take on the whole group by myself. So I would like to petition you for assistance. To borrow power from you so I may avenge her and make sure they never do this to anyone again.”

Lucifer stared intently as Alastor spoke. “I see… well, I could use some entertainment. So how about I make this extra interesting. For the duration of your hunt, I'll make you not just powerful, but I'll make it so no one will be able to tie the murders to you either.” He wanted to see how Alastor would handle this gift.

His eyes lit up, “Truly? And what do you ask in exchange for such a generous offer?”

“Well, standard arrangement for such a deal would be your soul. But let's make this more interesting. Once a month for the rest of your life and afterlife, you have to summon me for dinner. Not necessarily lamb everytime, I have quite the diverse palette.” 

“Dinner with the Devil once a month? And I get to keep my soul? Well, I Believe we have a deal then, your Majesty.” He held out his hand, and Lucifer shook it.

 

 

His first murder! It was exhilarating! The Power coursing through his body was a high he could hardly keep sane through, it was immediately addictive. He needed more!

That thought made him flinch and look in the mirror of his bathroom where he was cleaning up. His eyes… They were red now, like the Devil's. But it was already fading back to brown as the power left. No- no! Come back! I need the power!  

He felt a cold sweat over his body. “I… I may not have given my soul, but hell is already my destination.” He knew that should scare him, that he should be begging God for forgiveness and protect, but he didn't want either of those things. With this power, he could protect himself from anything! He was powerful now and no one could stop him!

The thrill of the realization sent shivers down his spine. That's what this was, excitement, not fear.

It was time for the next Victim. Tomorrow, he'd get Their leader.

 

Next month, he summoned Lucifer again, this time making him jambalaya and hoping for the best.

When Lucifer stepped in through the fireplace, he smiled softly, holding a box.

“Hey kiddo, it smells great in here! How've you been enjoying my powers, it looked like you were having fun.”

 

“Sire, can you please not call me ‘Kiddo’. I am an adult man.” Alastor's grin tightened, “And yes, I've been enjoying your gift immensely. However… I am coming close to the end of our arrangement, soon I will eliminate the last of the men who directly killed Mother… And I must admit, I am loathe to let go of the powers you've granted me… there are more Sinners who deserve to be punished. More lives I could save! I-” He caught himself, realizing he was getting carried away in front of Lucifer himself!

 

“Well, if that's how you feel, how about another deal?” He smiled and sat down to enjoy his meal, setting down the box on the table. “Ooooh, what'd you make this time?” He licked his lips.

“It's jambalaya, have you never had it before, Sire?” 

“Nope! Never heard of it.” He dug right in, and purred as he ate. 

“Your praise is appreciated, you majesty.” God, why did that purring make him seem almost... cute?

“And you're so polite too. Is it out of respect, or fear?”  He looked Alastor up and down before motioning to the chair across from him.

“Please, join me. You are pleasant company.”

 

Alastor sat, “Thank you, Sire.”

“Please, call me Lucifer. We're about to become much more intimately connected if you accept my offer.”

He waited for Alastor to eat his portion of dinner before getting to business.

“Now, you want to keep my powers after you've avenged your mother.

I will let you keep the strength I loaned you in exchange for ownership of your soul. Is that agreeable?” He held out his hand with a smile. Something about it looked… hungry.

Alastor took a deep breath, then slowly shook the Devil's hand. “Yes. My soul is yours upon my death.” 

Lucifer frowned at that last part, “Aw, only after your death? I can't just call you mine now?” He then chuckled and softened his expression, “Very well, enjoy your few years of freedom wisely, my pet. I look forward to continuing our monthly meals as well.”

“Yes, Sire, I will enjoy my time to the fullest!"

 

“Good, I'll be keeping an eye on you… make me impressed, my dear.” He chuckled and took his leave.

Alastor noticed the small black box he'd left behind, and curiosity got the better of him. He opened it up, and found a note card that said “To Alastor” on it. Underneath was a silk bowtie.

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Daisy Dukes - Simon "Ghost" Riley*Fem!Reader

You're going out with some old friends to the beach, and someone is jealous.

This one is SFW but Part 2 will be 18+ (incoming)

It's 3 a.m. now so there might be some mistakes but I'll make sure to fix them in the morning :)

“You sure ya gonna wear these?”

You raised an eyebrow when you stood at the front door, hearing Simon’s voice coming from behind.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” You asked.

His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing you from your head to toe, and back to meet your gaze. “You wear too little.” 

“Simon.” Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you sighed “This is normal, okay? No one wears a long trouser and a T-shirt to the beach, and definitely not when the weather is hot as hell.”

Simon wanted to tell you to change your clothes, he knew that once you stepped on the beach, you would become a lamb in a bunch of nasty wolves, especially when you looked so perfect — hair tied up into a high ponytail, white bikini on top only covered by a semi-transparent blouse, and that bloody daisy dukes, he glared at how it cupped your ass in such a charming way that would make all men crawl on four legs and drooling, and he wanted to poke their damn eyes even if he was just imagining now.

But, you were right, he couldn’t find a persuasive reason to tell you to change to other clothes.

so he sighed, walked to your side, and kissed you on your lips.

“then be careful, okay? Picked ya up at 9?”

“Sure, love you!” You returned the kiss and left your home with Simon’s gaze lingering on your back.

Simon waited anxiously at his car and kept looking at his watch while his left foot tapped at the floor. It was 9:05 now, and he still hadn’t seen you show up at the place you told him to pick you up.

He opened his phone, you and his chat stayed at 2 hours ago, which he told you he would arrive on time and you replied to him with an “okay!” rabbit sticker.

You weren't someone who would break your word, then why haven't you shown up yet? Were you all right? What if you get attacked by some fucking pervert? What if some crazy terrorist took you hostage and he couldn’t save you in time? What if...

Thousands of concerns rushed through his mind, making him more worried than before. He must calm down, his rational self told him, if you were in danger, he would know, and you weren't alone, you went to the beach with your old friends.

Well, what the rational part of him said was right, but when things were related to you, he just couldn't help but become overprotective.

When the watch showed that it was 9:10 now, and he finally couldn’t just stay here and wait for who knows how long without knowing your safety, he saw a familiar figure being supported by another person.

He quickly walked towards them, almost running, and he saw your arms wrapped around one of your girl friends’ shoulder, eyes darting and barely walking in a straight line, and when your eyes stopped on him, your face beamed up, and waved your arms in a big motion.

He didn’t notice he was holding his breath until he exhaled deeply once he saw you smile at him like an idiot, adorable one though.

“Simon ~ My handsome ~” You throw yourself into his chest, pawing at him like a crazy kitten. You are intoxicated obviously.

“Sorry, we played some beer pong and she lost almost every one of them, so she drank over 5 bottles of beer.” Your friend said in an apologetic tone.

Simon looked down at you clinging onto him like a koala, and sighed.

“Alright.”

but he was aware of how your other boy friends, standing behind the girls who supported you, watched your body with dirty eyes but shifted to intimidated ones when they noticed him glaring at each of them with his death stare.

Didn't want you to be exposed in those bastard’s eyes any longer, he quickly manhandled you into the passenger seat while you were mumbling some nonsense sentences.

On the way back to your home, Simon watched you sing along with whatever the music was playing on the radio, your hair was a little messy compared to when he saw you in the morning, but he still found you extremely beautiful, even prettier than usual with the red smeared at your cheek due to the alcohol.

but his mind quickly reminded him how your male friends looked at you with those perverted stares — just like what he presumed before you went out — and he wanted to punch them in their faces and bark at them till they never dared to look at you in that way.

At least you were safe, he reassured himself and turned the steering wheel to drive into the garage and park the car.

You were quiet now, but from the stupid grin on your face and the blurry eyes glued to him wherever he went, he knew you were still awake.

and when he dragged you out of the car, you became a clingy koala again, and he had no choice but to pick you up, struggling with the key to open the door with one hand, and put you down on the couch.

but when he was about to leave and get a towel for you, you pulled his arms, with a strong power he had no idea why you still had when you were so drunk, making him fall onto you with a grunt.

“Simon...I miss you so much...” You trapped him with all your limbs, and he pulled off a little to see your face, only to be pulled back into a lustful kiss.

Fuck, your body was feverish, and your soft lips were hotter than usual. You kissed him with a giddy passion and opened your mouth obediently when he returned the kiss, tongue slipped into your mouth and danced with yours sloppily.

Breaking the kiss, he nipped at your bottom lip and snarled at your face.

“Do ya know how I worried I was when ya didn’t show up? How jealous I was when your fucking friends looked at ya in such a dirty way?” He looked at your body, the blouse has already been thrown by you to god knows where before he dropped you on the couch, and at this angle, he could see how the bikini pressed your tits together wonderfully and showed your cleft to him. “and ya know how I want to just pushed you onto the dining table and fuck you till you couldn’t go out with your friends?” 

Your smirk only became more mischievous when you heard what he said, and you pulled him down again, voice deep, and pressed your lips to his ear.

“I don’t know, Simon. How about you show me then?” 

and who was he to say no to you?

[danidoesathing]

hiii took a little bit long but here's my gift fic for the LH Secret Santa exchange hosted by @tinylongwing for @hissydyke ! I went with the second prompt for cowboys and landscapes and threw in some of the stuff from the favorite list to make uh. this weird little thing! hope ya like it and happy new year

In The Pines

(ao3 verison if it's easier to read)

Anyone who’s lived their life out in the untamed western wilds knows there are things in this world you don’t understand. You aren’t supposed to. There are things out there that are bigger than you and you’ve gotta learn how to steer clear of them, or you ain’t gonna live long enough to see another day. 

It’s not always as easy as simply avoiding them though. The longer you live out here, the higher chance you run across something, or something will run across you. Adapting to the land’s fickle whims is key to surviving. Most of these things, you’ll find, are like animals. Not so much in mind (they are always, always smarter than you think) as much as behavior – they stick to their territory and defend it with their whole heart. Pass on by without bothering them and they’re more than likely to stick to themselves. Maybe keeping a close eye on you, but most aren’t gonna attack without reason. So don’t give them one.

Passing through their territory is a risk you don’t want to take. They’re as fickle as mother nature herself. Assuming you have any other option, take it. If you don’t, you better know who you’re trespassing against. Your one chance at getting through is riding on the hope you can appease them. Maybe it’ll cost you gold, a horse, a limb, a life, a soul. Maybe less, maybe more. Doesn’t matter. Pay your toll and get a move on.

The outlaw resting on the edge of the pines knows this. She’s a young thing, but she’s lived a thousand lives out here and then some. She’s worked her way around the lands long enough to still be standing above ground, and that more than speaks for itself. Her horse is restless and is hardly soothed by her hand, but he does not buck or flee. He is an animal, but he’s not a fool. Those who cross through the pines are either brave, foolhardy, or desperate. You’re welcome to guess which one she is.

The course they take through the false forest can hardly be called a path – the trees parting just enough to allow her and her horse to pass through. The snow falls like a curtain over the pines, obscuring what little can be seen through the trees. The wind howls, carving mounds into the deep snow. This place is not made for human travel. Exceptions are rarely made.

They weave through the maze of trees and climb the slope until they find themselves at a clearing. At the opposite edge sits a mass of rocks, half buried by the snow. At the base of the mass is a tree, withered and ancient, that splits in two at it’s trunk. 

The outlaw steps into the center of the clearing and waits. Instincts itch under her skin, telling her she is too exposed, too vulnerable out in the open. There are shapes among the shadows of the treeline. The urge to run grows stronger with each new pair of glimmering eyes that stare out into the darkness. But she stamps it down and holds her ground. Fear will do her no good. She waits.

From behind the massive split tree, something climbs out. It looks like a young girl, no older than fourteen, with wiry hair and baby fat still clinging to her cheeks. Her jacket is puffy and torn, and her clothes are strange even to the outlaw. Frost clings to her skin like a child to it’s mother. Her eyes are devoid of light. A corpse’s eyes.

“I seek safe passage,” the outlaw states.

The girl looks up at her. The shadows among the treeline crawl forward, showing more of the same – strange inhabitants with empty eyes.

“A trade?” The girl offers.

“A trade.”

A sacrifice. Not of the blood and flesh variety – you can’t cut off the head of a lamb and call it good. It must be of worth to you. A real sacrifice. Whether or not there’s blood on it- well, that depends on you.

For the outlaw, it’s a ring on a chain. Not a particularly lavish one – cheap metal and a tiny red stone, already started to crack and rust from the years of wear and tear. It hasn’t seen use in many, many years.

She drops in at the base of the split tree. 

The girl with the hollow eyes watches it fall. She looks back up at the outlaw and stares through her. She is waiting for an answer from someone and something the outlaw cannot see. The outlaw holds her gaze, refusing to flinch even as the wind tears at her face and the frost eats at her skin.

Then the girl nods. She turns her back to the outlaw and crawls back into the treeline. The rest of the shadows follow suit. They leave behind no marks in the snow. The ring rests at the bottom of the altar still, soon to be buried among the rest of the offerings.

To the outlaw’s right, a thin path snakes through the pines. She takes this as her cue to get a move on. Best not to overstay your welcome in a place like this.

Tracking time is a pointless task in the pines. The outlaw and her horse could’ve been traveling through those woods for minutes or hours or years – it doesn’t matter. They will get to where they need to go. Eventually, the forest splits more evenly into a world she’s more familiar with. The one she belongs to – dry air and endless open planes. Summer’s heat presses down on the back of her neck. The sky is clear. There is no snow on the ground. The maw of the forest is gone. 

The sun begins to rise over the hills. Another deal made. Another day lived.

The outlaw does turn around behind her as she leaves. There is nothing to look back to.

[warpweftandwar]

For years I have only even lurked on social media. Reddit, Instagram, Facebook and TickTok. I never had desires beyond watching, though the ADHD rejection sensitivity also came into play. Imagining someone arguing with me, mocking me, or simply recognizing my presence would set off my fight or flight response.

Six months ago I met a Syrian man, Ahmed, who was broadcasting a TikTok live. He lived in a camp for people who had lost their homes during the war and spent his days on TikTok giving out food to the hungry children of the camp, while soliciting donations for future meals.

Initially believing this to be a scam, I took to Google, only to find a BBC article discussing this exact situation: Syrians displaced from the homes during the war, no humanitarian aid, no employment opportunities, but working with a TikTok middle man who gave them phones to broadcast from. TikTok supported this unofficial program because, for every monetary gift the creator received, TikTok kept 70% of the donation, releasing only 30% to the account holder. Great money making deal for TikTok!

Now, I can feel you rolling your eyes in disbelief at my naivety. If I heard someone else telling this story, I’d react the same way. Over time, Ahmed and I became good friends. We speak every day, share our family stories, check in on each other, and learn about the cultural differences in our lives. After 6 months of these conversations, speaking with his family and fact checking their experiences in the war (city, dates of displacement, locating their former home on Google maps) I trust these people completely.

These people have fully accepted me into their life, and I consider them true family. Let me tell you who they are…

Ahmed is 29 years old. He is who I first saw on the broadcast. He has a wife and 2 children. He lives in a large tent, hot in the summer, cold in the winter. They have a small portable gas stove, a wood stove during the winter (which burns hazelnut shells as fuel) and frequently cook their meals outside over open fire, as this is a cheaper alternative to gas for the stove.

He lives next to his younger brother, Bassam, who is also married and expecting a baby boy soon. They all have the same tent setup, each with their own wood stove, but sharing the cooking supplies and other living essentials.

Ahmed and Bassam both live next to their parents, 2 teenage brothers and 1 teenage sister. They also have 3 sisters who have married and live in other camps with their husbands’ family.

This extended family has all lived in this camp for around 8 years now. They fled their home in the midst of a battle between the Syrian regime and rebel militias who each wanted to control the area, integral to the success of either side. They saw nightmarish scenes as they ran; bodies of the dead and injured all around them. They took nothing with them as they ran. Ahmed says, “We escaped with only our souls.”

For 6 months I’ve been sending Ahmed and his family money every 2 weeks, through Western Union, since TikTok takes an excessive amount. Western Union and PayPal don‘t allow direct transfer to anyone in Syria due to the US sanctions, however there is a community of generous people in Turkey who will pickup the transferred money and meet with Ahmed to give him cash. And yes, I have confirmed that he receives the money every time.

Ahmed used to make some relatively decent money on his TikTok videos, however overtime the algorithm changed. It started banning his accounts, or simply hiding them from viewers. Donations dwindled down to nearly nothing and he can no longer feed the children of the camp, or his own family.

The money I send provides breathing room for survival, though not to a level of comfort. Food is meager, usually a breakfast off bread, olive oil and za’atar. Lunch is a larger meal of soup and bread, and dinner is sometimes, often, skipped. Meat of any kind is a rare treat, usually lamb or chicken. Eggplant, tomatoes, bread, fava beans, lentils, rice, pickles, and fresh mild green peppers.

So, welcome to my family! I hope you’ll stick around to hear more about them, their lives, and the challenges they face in a war ravaged country.

[heyitsghost57]

in game vs fanfiction

in game save Lamb: (they/them)

birth name is Lambert Chippington (based on a dream I had)

took Narinder’s last name, Mortimer, in marriage

has a chipped tooth, as a reference to my dream

26 when first sacrificed

loves their followers, all immortal from golden necklaces

all followers are cats, besides Jalala, Rinor, and Yarlen

all followers are disciples and named after fruits

happily married to Narinder, after years of rebuilding trust and forgiving each other

very kind, stern when needed

against sacrifice and cannibalism

mainly a pacifist, very passive and kind

vegan

sparkle shape for pupils

slightly more modern community compared to fanfic counterpart

cult is very neat and nicely decorated

cult always has a surplus of resources, high faith, and lots of food

selfless and overworked, does everything to keep their cult happy

only sacrifices followers if they request it

doesn’t remember their family much but mourns them

hopeless romantic

5’6”

demisexual

all bishops are in Lamb’s inner circle

camellias in their wool, has small bell earrings, bandages wrapped around their hooves, arm warmers, fleece with a hood, and a small ribbon that’s used to tighten the hood of their fleece

weapon of choice is dagger

fanfiction Lamb: (they/them)

birth name is Nayen, similar to the Filipino word for “village,” “Nayon”

cares not for their past identity and is just called Lamb now

carnivore

selfish, sadistic, apathetic, has a God complex, cruel, aggressive, mentally unstable, lazy, rude

married to Narinder, though their relationship is codependent and toxic

gained fangs and longer, sharper horns from ascension, hates it

21 when first sacrificed

the perfect cult leader before they discarded their mask

scared of hurting innocent people due to their intense emotions, later fantasizes about it

extremely stressed and always on the brink of breaking down

heart shape for pupils

doesn’t care about their past family, devoted only to their future with Narinder

obsessive and abusive partner

doesn’t love Narinder in a pure sense, doesn’t want to be alone, feels Nari is the only one worthy of their affection

manipulates their disciples

keeps the Bishops trapped in purgatory to isolate Narinder

wants to be seen as a good person

distrusts everyone, struggles to keep a kind attitude

socially awkward but tries to hide it

uses Ratau and his disciples to reassure them they’re a good person

being seen as the monster they truly are and being left alone, with no one to love them are their worst fears

weapon of choice is hammer

in game Narinder: (he/him)

full name is Narinder Mortimer

nickname, that only Lamb calls him, is Rin

Narinder’s relic serves as their ring of marriage

wears ceremonial robes, has a slit in it for his tail

lazy and tired, but helps out when he truly feels like it, or if Lamb asks enough times

pupil shape is a star

reserved but is friends with some followers

after decades, relationship with his siblings is slightly better

dislikes PDA, a bit shy

love language is quality time

weapon of choice is his reaper scythe

works as a gardener, acquaintances with Leshy’s spouse

enjoys playing knucklebones

demisexual

domesticated cat, very vocal with trilling and chirps

fanfiction Narinder: (he/him)

doesn’t like being called “The One Who Waits” after indoctrinated, as it hurts his pride and doesn’t fit anymore

begrudgingly, only lets Lamb call him Narinder

aggressive, often tries fighting Lamb when first indoctrinated

overwhelmed, sensory issues, third eye is swelled shut in the beginning

the cult calls him “Fate,” a name he chose spur of the moment during a sermon

behind his veil, he is often frowning or zoned out

dark circles under his eyes

wears an outfit similar to what he wore when chained

fought with Lamb when provoked, resulted in him wearing a loyalty necklace, brainwashing him further

gave up leaving the cult long ago

works in the lumberyard

holds sermons for Lamb most days

doesn’t remember who he is very well, a shell of his former self

dependent on Lamb

skittish and often drained

believes what him and Lamb have is love

doesn’t understand what proper, healthy love looks like, based on his siblings

did truly love Lamb, though it’s now a relationship full of fear

victim of lovebombing

has scent marked Lamb

pupil shape is the letter X

weapon of choice is his claws

[internet-cheesecake]

oooooo so since the 'pre-cult leader lamb' is in the lead for the next comic poll as of rn, figured I'd do some quick doodles and notes on it & them

here's their general design & some info

(wawawawawawaaaaaaaaa why are side profiles so hard to draw ????? .⁠·⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠(⁠>⁠▂⁠<⁠)⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠·⁠.)

then some notes and rambling on the comic's plot & other info about their background below, so spoiler alert if you wanna wait !

(edit) have changed a good chunk of this info by now !!!! most of it is no longer accurate, so please just consider it concept art for future comics !!!!

this was probably the longest out of all the ideas, so I'm gonna split it up a bunch. This is the general plot idea though so far (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

•only child of a merchant family from anchordeep, thus learned general merchant trades & bribery

•fled the anchordeep culling with parents, and ended up settling in a hidden sheep village in darkwood

('hidden village refers to 'the herd' found in one of the lost messages. Generally, i think lambs in the areas wouldve been hunted in this order: silk cradle, anchordeep, anura, then darkwood.)

(silk cradle first, since Shamura is the god of wisdom, so it could have been their idea, plus, the prophecy

anchordeep next because Kallamar probably would've followed suit, whether it be for his own safety against the prophecy, or out of not wanting to upset anyone.

then anura, not much thought for this one, but we know darkwood was last since the Lamb was found there, so we can assume anura was before it.)

•would do odd jobs around the village for money and supplies, including guard duty, babysitting, supply runs, ect (basically, where they got the experience later used to run a cult)

•lambs who would leave the village on supply runs sometimes started disappearing while gone, including their parents. Lambert took this as a sign of a potential attack upcoming, and started stockpiling jewelery for bribery and selling, hence why they're wearing so much of it.

•was about to return from a supply run when the village was found, and they went into hiding

(reference to 'lost message II,' which states 'one fled my blade. I will find it')

•was caught a few times, but managed to escape by either using bribes or fighting

•after a few years in hiding, they eventually exhausted all their savings, (bribe jewelry) and when put into a difficult spot, they were forced to sell their sword, leading to them being unable to fight or bribe, causing them to be caught and sacrificed.

•when finally caught, did not say a word. was probably holding back tears and didn't want to seem like a coward in their last moments

(feels fitting that they'd have a lot of pride and not want to seem like a coward, since they're a sore loser in the game. also yet another reference to the lost message, stating 'I found the last, hidden deep in the Lands. It followed me, silent, to the ritual grounds.')

•Their sword, 'beat-up blade' had been a bit of a family heirloom. No one had actually used it in generations though, as it was not really fit for fighting anymore. After their parents disappeared, Lamb tried to DIY restore it by replacing the blade with a darkwood style one, as they were more used to it (due to guard duty) and the anchordeep hilt would sell for a pretty penny. Apparently, it was one of Kallamar's many weapons a very, very long time ago.

(I need some kind of actual reason for the Kallamar favortism that isnt just 'oh yeah internet-cheesecake thinks he's cool lmao' so made Lamb from anchordeep & gave them one of Kallamar's super old and unwanted swords. that way, i can do some kind of 'well, you kinda protected me, in a way. for that, I've grown to appreciate you. So thank you.' oh and plus i live in a tropical area and wanted to include that somehow)

[h-c-u]

No longer a secret pt 2

Summary: Just... A healthy couple being a couple... Supporting each other and living a soft, slow domestic life.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader

W/C: 2.9k

Rating: PG, age gap

TWs: none

A/N: It was supposed to be a one-shot, but oops, I slipped and fell on part 2. Also - could I describe the whole recipe cause I know it like the back of my hand? You bet. So, if anyone wants a recipe for a lamb rack in a red-wine glaze - hit me up :) Also-also - there will be a part 3!

Taglist: @crimeshowjunkie

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | List of tags | Playlist for the series

You always felt safe in the car with him, and even though in the beginning he was riding like a maniac, with the progress of your relationship - it slowly died down, and when one morning you asked him about it, he simply replied "How could I risk putting the most important person in my life in any danger?", like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and even though he still enjoyed the speed, he wasn't doing any risky maneuvers when you were with him. 

The whole ride to the hotel was quiet, but it was far from awkward... You were staring out the window, deep in your thoughts, with one hand under your chin and the other on his thigh, where your fingers intertwined with his, and every time he was changing gears, he moved both of your hands to the stick, not wanting to let you go even for a second. 

When the car was parked, he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a small kiss to it, before you left the car, and when you did, you easily slipped under his arm and wrapped yours around his hip. Here you didn't have to be so careful, because the hotel was occupied only by the Mercedes team, so even if anyone saw you two, you seriously doubted that they would leak the information about who their boss was with... And since this secret had an expiration date in the near future, you felt comfortable enough lowering the walls here and there. 

- I think I've come up with a rough plan... - you said when you were in the elevator. - It's mostly bullet points, and there is a lot of technical and legal research in front of me, but I'm already excited. - you looked up, and you could see that he was already excited with you, even though he had a whole race to think of.

- Do you want to run it by me now? - he asked, and you shook your head. 

- Not yet... I will in a few days though. - you wanted to make sure that everything was as perfect as possible before you shared the details, and for that, you needed more time. And you didn't want to burden him with anything more this close to the race. - But first dinner... How hungry are you? - you asked because you wanted to estimate how much time you could spend on preparing food.

- Not that much... And the work shouldn't take me more than 2 hours, most likely less. After that, I'm all yours. - he smiled and leaned in to kiss the top of your head before the elevator door opened. 

It didn't take you long to get to the room, and when Toto almost immediately started working from the kitchen island, you took a quick shower first. 

- I'm stealing one of your shirts with full intentions of staining it! - you shouted from the bedroom, even though he told you times and times again that if you wanted something of his, you could just take it. 

- Go for it! - he shouted back, and you couldn't help but smile when you took one of his blue shirts and put it on. You left three top buttons open, because you were still hot after the shower. You also tucked the front of the shirt behind a band of your shorts and rolled up the sleeves, so you could actually do things with your hands. 

Before you got to cooking, you came up behind Toto who was studying a specific graph on his screen, wrapped your arms around his abdomen, and pressed your cheek to his back. He instinctively covered your hand with his, not looking away from the laptop. Finding a rhythm with him was easy, almost natural. Sure, you had some disagreements, but nothing serious enough to put a wedge between you two... And it helped that both of you craved physical affection because there didn't have to be any reason behind a hug, a kiss, or a simple touch, just like now... You stayed like that for a moment without having to explain why and pressed a quick kiss in the place, where your cheek rested just a second ago. 

- If you need a rubber duck, feel free... - you said, walking around the kitchen island. When you first explained the concept to him, he couldn't stop laughing, but then one evening he actually tried it... And even though you didn't fully understand what he was talking about, explaining the problem out loud, was enough for him to realize what he was doing wrong. And ever since, every now and again he went into a very technical rant, sometimes in German, but mostly in English, so you could ask at least some questions. 

- Thank you, Schatzi. - he looked up for a moment and when he saw what you were wearing, a giant smile bloomed on his face and he couldn't stop staring for a good moment, even when you caught him. - Do you need help with that? - he pointed his chin at the lamb rack, still in one piece that you took out of the fridge. As a daughter of a professional chef, it would be hard for you not to know how to handle yourself in the kitchen, and even though you definitely didn't cook every day, you still enjoyed it. And even though he knew all of that, he still offered to help.

- Finish your work, mo Chuisle... - when he called you Love or Schatzi, you loved looking for nicknames in every language of the world, and when your friends called their partners babe or honey, you were peppering yours with Neshama Sheli (my soul), Ya Amar (my moon), and many more, and he never knew which one was coming. It was like his own personal Russian Roulette of love. 

- Mo Chuisle....? That's a new one. - of course, he nailed the pronunciation the first time, while it took you at least five minutes to get the rough "ch" right. 

- It is... - you smiled at him, while you took everything that you might need for cooking. As soon as he noticed that you enjoyed cooking even in hotels, he always made sure to request a suit with a fully stocked kitchen, even if he wasn't sure, you were to visit him. - It's Gaelic and it means my pulse or my heartbeat. - you explained and before you even got to prepping, you poured a glass of water and dropped a lemon slice in it.

- I like it... Mo Chuisle... - he repeated it again committing it to memory, while you put the glass in his reach, and he almost immediately took it and drank half of it. Even though you technically didn't live together, you learned each other's habits and preferences pretty well.

And now you could officially start cooking. Dividing the rack took you less than a minute, so did making a simple rosemary-garlic marinade, and while the meat was absorbing it, you peeled the potatoes, cut them in quarters, and put them in a pot. While they were slowly boiling, you cut more garlic and rosemary and put them in a pan with olive oil, and as soon as it started heating up, the simple yet amazing smell filled up the room. When the oil was infused, you strained it and divided it in two to use later. 

Once you got into the proper rhythm and your muscle memory took over, your mind went back to your plans for the future. You knew you would have to start and register your own production company, which seemed to be the easy part... You already had some names in mind when it came to a possible tech crew. During your years with the network, it was hard not to make some friends both in and outside of the company, and you were almost sure that at least five people would be willing to go on this adventure with you. And when it came to the research team, you knew you would need at least two... let's say "very passionate" people whose skills towered the FBI, so they could push each other to find more and more interesting things peppered over the internet, and you could easily think about one person who once was able to find a guy just by his phone case, so you had no doubts that she would be able to comb every part of the internet to find the most obscure facts and verify them. 

- Mark confirmed he'll be able to swing by tomorrow morning. 8 AM ok? - the question pulled you from your train of thought, and you needed a moment to take in the reality. Potatoes were already roasting in the oven, the fresh greens salad was already done, and you were in the process of reducing the wine glaze. You continued mixing it, so it wouldn't burn. 

- The lawyer...? - you confirmed, looking at Toto over your shoulder, and he nodded. – 8 AM is fine. Here? - you assumed that's what "swing by" meant, but you wanted to make sure. 

- Yes. He also asked if you could forward him the contract beforehand... - you run the wooden spatula through the middle of the pan to check the consistency, and it was perfect, so you turned off the heat and turned around. 

- Sure, I can do that right now, I have it somewhere in my emails. - you had to get your phone from the bedroom. It wasn't hard to find the right message, and you passed your cell to Toto, so you could fill in the email address since you didn't know it, but instead of just taking your phone, he pulled you closer in such a way, that your back was pressed against his chest, and he rested his chin on your right shoulder. You gently pressed your cheek to his hair, and put your free hand on his neck.

You stayed like that for a moment, but he eventually took your phone from your hand, unlocked it, and send the email with your contract to his lawyer. 

- Dinner is ready by the way... Are you done with work? - you asked when he put your phone screen down on the kitchen island. 

- Mhm... - he mumbled and gave you a tighter squeeze before finally letting you go, so you could plate the food, while he put his laptop away, so he wouldn't be tempted to do more. - It looks amazing, Schatzi.

- It tastes even better. - you smiled and while he moved the plates to the small, round table next to the window, you poured two glasses of the same wine you used to make the glaze with, and placed one closer to him.

- Ok, now tell me what you came up with. - he requested when you were finally sitting at the table, and you rested your feet on his chair, next to his thigh. He started slowly eating, and you told him about your plans about the type of company you'd think would be the best for this whole endeavor, which was a private company limited by shares, who you'd like to have in your team and why, how to go about the recruitment process, what equipment you’d like to start with, and the general idea for the set aesthetics; you wanted it to be elegant and consistent, but easy to travel with, because you suspected that not everyone you wanted to interview would be ready to drop everything and come to England for a day, and you didn't want something flashy, because the conversation itself was supposed to draw the most attention. 

After he finished eating, and you still continued talking, he gently rested one hand on your calf, while the other played with a glass of wine. He was asking some clarifying questions here and there, because your brain was galloping so fast, that sometimes you skipped a few sentences out loud, trying to get to the point as soon as possible. 

At first, you didn't even realize that he started very gently massaging your leg with a knuckle of his thumb, while you leaned back in your chair, but when your brain finally caught up, you couldn't help but smile. He knew you were on your feet all day, and even though you weren't in pain, he still thought about helping you in ways you haven't thought about. 

- You're handling it very well, Schatzi, I just have one remark. - you nodded, encouraging him to continue, while you finished your wine. - And believe me, it pains me to say it, but you shouldn't start with the Mercedes team, not even with Lewis, even though everyone knows you two are friendly. - he let his words sink in, and your first reaction was to go to that irrational place, where the voices were screaming at you that he thought you weren't good enough to interview his drivers or him. But then he caught your gaze, and you realized what he truly meant because there was no way he would hurt you like that. 

- Our relationship will be out before the first interview... And people might think that either I or you are playing favorites, and I might get accused of not being objective. - you finished the thought for him.

- Precisely. - you couldn't stop the sigh that left your lungs. He, of course, was right, and you knew he didn't mean it in a malicious way, but it wasn't something you even considered yet. Lewis was a safe option, but now... Now you would actually have to do some networking. - If you're taking suggestions, I would recommend Daniel for the first interview. He's popular right now, and his name would pull in the audience. - it was a good suggestion, and you would definitely consider it, just... not now. There was still a lot to do before you could even start thinking about potential guests. - Have you thought about where your offices would be? - another question that definitely needed an answer. 

- I haven't... But in my defense, I've been thinking about it for about two hours total. - you put your hands up in a defensive gesture, but it was just for show. To be honest, he probably thought about it even less, but he had much more experience in running anything than you, so you were grateful for any advice or input. 

- How about your flat in London...? - he suggested, and you immediately tensed up, not sure where he was going with it. - It's big enough to store equipment and you could remodel the living room into an office space. I assume researchers and editors could work from home...? - you nodded cautiously. - So, you don't need desks for all the people at the same time, and they could rotate. You could also soundproof your bedroom and remodel it into a recording studio. And you could finally move in with me... - and there it was. It was a sneaky way to ask, and it's not like you haven't talked about it before, but now your biggest obstacle was beginning to crumble and move out of the way. There was a long moment of silence while you were reconsidering every argument, every pro and every con. 

- Fine... - you finally said and shook your head in disbelief, still unsure what it all meant, but a giant smile bloomed on your face, despite the mellow word you chose to use. 

- Fine...? - he made sure because even though he asked, he didn’t know what your response would be. 

- Fine, I will officially move in with you. - you laughed quietly. - But I'm not just gonna call the moving company and move all my stuff in one day, you have to give me time to adjust, ok...? - even though you really wanted to do that, you were a little bit scared. You loved him, and he loved you, and it should be as simple as that, but you couldn't think yourself out of the emotions you felt. 

- Fine... - he purposefully mirrored your choice of word, and leaned in, reaching for your hands to pull you closer, and when you did, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. - Go rest, Schatzi... You cooked; I'll clean. - he put your leg back on the floor, so he could leave his chair. Technically the cleaning service could take care of everything tomorrow, but you enjoyed that he wanted to share the chores, and you couldn't help but wonder what living with him full-time would be like...

It's not like you've never been to his house, because you spent many, many nights there. And on top of that, there were all the days you've spent together in hotel rooms when either of you was traveling for work, so you already had a pretty good idea, but full-time...? And more importantly, you would have to start calling his house your home, which would take some adjusting. But the gardens... You smiled just thinking about them.

You didn't want to go to bed yet, so you opted out for a couch where you could observe what he was doing behind the kitchen island. 

There wasn't a lot of cleaning to do, because your unintended training meant that you were washing everything as you went, but it was still nice knowing, that you didn't have to do everything alone. Now or ever... Because you couldn't imagine your life without Toto in it. 

Part 3

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.