#no i won't take matters into my own hands

[d-emeter]

Breakfast, lunch and dinner (or: cod characters and how they eat you out) — plus-size!fem!reader x cod characters

Includes: Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, König, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria

Note: take this as my formal apology for being inactive for so long :') exam week had me hanging on by a thread and i'm also suddenly moving so. yay. expect some more action after like... this week i hope

John Price

Listen. Getting eaten out by Captain Price is not, in any way, meant for your pleasure. No, this is him disciplining you. It hardly even matters what for. Maybe you have been teasing him, sliding your hand up his thigh under the table, rubbing your ass against him while passing by him. Maybe you've been a brat all day, complaining and huffing and puffing about everything, barely listening to any of John's requests and/or demands. Either way, sit on his desk and spread your fucking legs, doll. He'll be edging you for what feels like hours, tongue moving so torturously slow that all coherent thought has seeped from your brain aside from how badly you want to cum. Too bad, bad girls don't deserve to finish this easily.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

With Simon, it's always a surprise what position you'll end up in. The only certainty you have is that it's definitely not what you'd expect, and sometimes you wish that for once he'd just lay you down and get busy. But alas, he'll have you kneeling with your face in the pillows, or bent over the back of the couch. Maybe he'll have you hanging off the edge of the bed so all the blood flows to your already overheating brain. You're clinging onto whatever you can get a hold on, mostly in pleasure, and sometimes in fear of falling when he has you up on his shoulders and leaned against the wall. Well, he doesn't exactly hear your complaining over your moans and whimpers, he argues, and he wouldn't dream of dropping you.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish

As with Price, this has little to do with your pleasure: it's all for his own benefit. Please, lass, he loves your cunt, and she loves him, doesn't she? Come on, let him have a taste. He could give two shits about where you are or how convenient it is— if he wants to lick your pussy, he's going to. He's down on his knees while you're desperately clinging onto the kitchen counter, or the shower wall, or the shelves of your pantry. Hell, you'd have to hope and pray a sales associate won't come by your changing room in fear of them hearing all of his moans. Oh, and you quickly find out you cannot wear a skirt around him, because it won't come down from your hips if he has any say in it.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

He's devastatingly methodical. He knows your body better than you do at this point, and he's not afraid to use this to his advantage. He can work you just right, but the worst part is that he will refuse to. Unless you kindly ask him for it, that is. Tsk, pretty girl, use your words. Let him know where you need him, what you need him to do. He's hovering close enough that you can feel his breath on your neglected clit, your cunt clenching around nothing in desperate search for friction of any kind, but he won't do anything until you tell him in excruciating detail what you want. And be aware, any time you stop talking, he's pulling away in a second.

König

Oh, König... Sweet, wet-rag-of-a-man loser that he is, will completely lose his mind any time you allow him near your pussy. He can practically feel his brain melting while he's drowning himself in your slick, and he looks like it too. His eyes have rolled back, face flushed and his eyebrows scrunched in pure, unadulterated pleasure. His body has turned to complete mush, his cock leaking against the sheets and hands clawing onto any part of your body he can reach (which, with his arms, is basically everywhere). Unintelligible mumbles made into your cunt, teetering the edge between praise and begging. He is a little inexperienced, Schatz, so you'll have to show him how you like it. Shove his face between your folds and ride his nose, and you'll have him moaning like a bitch in heat. When he finally comes back up for air you can tell you're not the only one that reached heaven just now.

Philip Graves

I'm going to speak my truth here, he does not strike me as the kind of man to give you oral all that much. I am SORRY, but it's true. He usually prefers to get you nice and ready for him with his fingers, or by having you ride his thigh, or simply from the absolute filth he spews into your ear while dry-humping. However, on the odd occasion that Phil does get down and dirty, he aims to make it special. It's strangely sentimental, actually. It'd be outside on a picnic blanket after his homecoming, or in your shared bed after your anniversary dinner. Anything that reminds him how much he loves you, and how much you mean to him, and he's going to show you with his tongue. There's reverence in every suck, praise in every lick and prayer in every word he murmers into your core. You're his goddess and he's just here to worship you, baby.

Alejandro Vargas

For Ale, it'd be a form of gratuity much in the same way it is for Graves, though the difference is that he'll use that as an excuse even for the most menial things. His belly nice and full after your homecooked dinner, grin on his face and asking when his dessert is being served. You've been so good to him, amor, welcoming him home with a smile and a kiss and a plate waiting for him, now let him thank you properly. You fixed the button on his shirt that had fallen off? Well, put it on and lay yourself down, time to lap at your cunt in thanks. It's gotten to a point where you're convinced he just decided his goal in life is to pull as many orgasms from you as possible. Not that you're complaining, of course.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parras

Eating you out is, in many ways, a means to an end for Rudy. He wants to make sure you're properly prepped and ready to take his cock, so it's almost instinctual for him to bury his face between your soft thighs for a while before inching himself into you. It's part of the routine, the way he thought sex was supposed to go. It's not until you explain to him that it can actually be the main event, and that you'd thoroughly enjoy it if he maybe put in a little more effort, that it dawns on him just how much he can actually do down there and how much time he's wasted not doing it. Now, tesoro, you may have shot yourself in the foot with that one, because he now can keep you pinned down for hours, just suckling away at your clit and fucking you on his tongue, dumb grin on his face after your fifth orgasm renders you basically comatose.

Valeria Garza

The only way Valeria will actually relax for once is with your pussy in her face. Seriously, you've tried everything else: lavender baths, deep tissue massages, even trying to get her to meditate. But no, the only time you actually see her shoulders lose all their tension is when she's between your folds. She's had such a long day, vida, come sit on her face. She's not even groping you the way she usually does during sex, hands instead playing idly with the fat of your thighs and ass while all her worries melt away. There are no thoughts running through her mind aside from how good you taste, how pretty you sound and how nice you feel under her hands.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

I'm having a bit of a downtime. I feel so conscious about my appearance. May I have Quinn reassuring me that I look good?

My love, I'm sure you're absolutely stunning. Chin up, buttercup! 🩷

Quinn hadn't participated in practice today. While he caught up on some rest, you had decided to go into the city for a little retail therapy of your own. Only it hadn't quite gone the way you had hoped. Everywhere you looked, there was a girl you felt was prettier than you, looking at something you had been interested in for yourself. It was easy to look at her, then at yourself, and convince yourself that you couldn't wear it near as good as she could. Self-sabotage and insecurity were bullying you into a early shopping trip.

It didn't matter what you did, they were all beautiful while you felt like trash. What did Quinn see in you, you wondered on the drive back to his apartment. He could have his pick of any Instagram model he wanted, so why had he chosen you? You would beat yourself up the entire time, resigning to tears after parking his car.

You had returned empty-handed.

"What are you doing back so early?" Quinn asked, seeing you walk through the door unexpectedly. He had been in the kitchen making himself some lunch, and had he known you were headed back, would have made you something as well.

"I wasn't feeling it." Your eyes were still red as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror by the door. Quinn was bound to notice soon enough. "I think I've got a migraine starting."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, babe. Do you have anything you can take?"

"Yeah."

He was genuinely being helpful, but you had blown him off and shuffled past the kitchen towards the bedroom. As he watched you go, your eyes down to avoid making eye contact, he knew there was more to it than the headache excuse. He'd let you go for now, not wanting to push you too much that you just shut down completely.

In the bedroom, you had gotten under the covers, hugging Quinn's pillow like you did when he was away on the road. You didn't want to cry anymore, but you had hurt your feelings so badly that there were no good thoughts left to give you even a drop of confidence in anything.

"Sweetheart?" Quinn asked, darkening the doorway some time later. You had almost drifted off to a nap when he called out to you, and could have faked being asleep, but you weren't trying to be mean to him.

"Yeah?" You mumbled into the pillow.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure."

You could hear him sigh from across the room and soon the feeling of him climbing in to bed with you would finally make you give him your full attention. He had laid his head against the pillow of his you were clutching. His pretty eyes waiting to catch sight of yours desperately.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked softly, his hand getting lost amongst your hair.

"Bad day."

"You seemed happy when you left." His brows pulled in slightly, trying to guess what had triggered the bad mood. "Did something happen while you were out?"

You bit your lip, pulling your eyes from his face. Why did he have to be so good at figuring out what was bothering you. "Just..."

Patiently, Quinn looked at you, his fingers giving you the gentlest scalp massage while he kept his hand buried deep in your hair.

"I just didn't feel like being shopping, that's all."

"Y|N, why don't you want to tell me?"

"Because it's a stupid reason," you choked out, eyes flicking back to Quinn's in haste.

His gaze softened, "Nothing is a stupid reason if it makes you feel like this, but I won't make you tell me. I just want to know you're alright."

"Why are you attracted to me?"

Quinn's expression twisted slightly. That was about the last question he would have dreamed you'd ask him. "What do you mean? In what way?"

"Why me over some model or something?"

He'd raise his head, propping himself up with his right arm. "I wasn't attracted to you because of your looks, sweetheart. That's just an added bonus. Do I come off that petty?"

"No, you don't. I just-- it's hard to not judge myself against all the other girls that could have my spot. I told you it was a stupid reason."

There was deep concern in Quinn's expression. There were few things he hated more than when you got down on yourself.

"As cliche as it might sound, looks eventually fade and no longer matter. What makes you, you, is your personality, baby. It's what shines through any amount of makeup or outfit. You can't fake a personality, not a real one. You know, as good as I do, that there are plenty of girls faking all of that just to get with any of us. They can't keep up the charade, and away they go, and another takes their place. Do you know how refreshing it was to meet you? How you genuinely smiled? That little snort you let out when you laughed at yourself for being nervous asking for that autograph? Do you remember how bad I blushed? I could hardly sign that jersey. I thought I was going to have to replace it because my signature looked like a fake."

You laughed softly remembering that day. He had been a little bit of a bumbling mess but it was so cute.

"You kept popping up in my head the whole rest of the day. Your eyes, your smile, hell, even that perfume you had been wearing. Drove me crazy all day. I see beautiful women everyday, but not a one of them are waiting for me back home like you are. I don't picture any of them waiting for me, wearing one of my t-shirts like you do. Each time I hear your voice when I'm away, I melt, because I get to hear it every--single--day."

You had been chewing on your bottom lip to keep the tears at bay and Quinn had noticed. The hand that had been lost in your hair moved to hold your face, and his thumb would coax your lip from between your teeth.

"You're the only person I have eyes for -- the others are just people. You're my baby, and I love you. They don't mean anything to me. You have my heart."

"Quinny~" you whispered, knowing everything he said was his raw, unfiltered truths.

"I mean it, all of it. You might think the other girls are prettier than you, but I don't. Not for a second. You're the only one I want."

You didn't know what to say. His ability to melt away any bad mood you were dealing with, soothe any hurt feeling you had, and reassure you through it all had been a natural talent. It was times like these that you didn't feel like you deserved him, but you'd never tell him that. You knew already that he hated when you put yourself down and when you thought you should have less. Instead, you'd try to be thankful for him taking the time to explain his reasonings to you.

"I'll reassure you more, if you want me to. I just need to know. I'll do whatever I can to make you feel better, just to keep stuff like this from happening. I just don't want you to shut me out, okay?"

You'd give him a nod. "I'm sorry to be this way."

Quinn smiled, "It's alright. Do you think I don't wonder why you put up with me half the time?"

"But I love you!"

"Exactly! Because I know you love me -- that you truly love me for me and not the other stuff-- I don't have to worry about anything else; I don't let the other stuff rule me. Does that makes sense?"

"Mhm," you nodded.

"And before you say it, you don't need to be sorry. Things happen, and sometimes we just need a little more to see what we've been overlooking."

The air went out of you like a balloon. Quinn's ways with words left you speechless more times than you thought he realised.

"If it would make you feel better, I'll take you out sometime next week and let you know how beautiful I think you'd look in anything you try on. Anything you like, it's yours. No limit."

"Quinn~"

"I mean it. If it makes you smile, I want you to have it."

"You make me smile."

He laughed softly, "You have me already, silly."

You'd roll over on your back as he climbed on top of you, lips hovering just above each other's. "Unless you're wanting something more. Then I can give you that, too."

[slut4megantheestallion]

Hello! I don't know if you have any rules regarding requests, but I sent you my idea. Arcane women x female reader! Especially Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn. They wanted to have something more intimate with the reader, but she can't because of past experiences and she feels frustrated with herself, and she doesn't feel able to tell her partner because she thinks he will judge and abandon her. Many times, the reader has stayed awake while her partner is sleeping and begins to cry, then her partner wakes up after sobs and finds the reader crying, and she finally confesses her trauma and her love comforts her. Again, if you're uncomfortable with this, you're free not to write it down! Hugs!

Characters: Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn.

Hiii<3 yeahh, I'll do this, and yes, I write for arcane sometimes, I do take requests 😄.

Arcane Women x Reader w/ trauma Headcannons

Scenario: The reader struggles with intimacy due to past trauma, afraid of judgment and abandonment. She often stays awake, crying, feeling frustrated herself, and ashamed. Until one night, her partner wakes up and finds her breaking down. Comfort and love follow.

Warning ⚠️: angst, trauma, past abuse, comfort, fluff.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Before you ended up in Zaun/Piltover and met, vi, Jinx, or caitlyn, your life was far from kind. You had experienced relationships that weren't built on love or trust, just lust, power, control, manipulation, and fear.

You were once with someone who made you feel like your body was something they deserved rather than something you owned. Your bound were ignored - your "no" was met with guilt tripping, anger, or silent treatment until you gave in. You learned to freeze rather than fight back because arguing led to worse outcomes. Over time, you started believing that love was something you had to earn by giving parts of yourself away.

Even after escaping that life, the scars lingered. You told yourself you were free and that no one can hurt you again, but when it comes to intimacy, your body still remembers what it felt like to be powerless.

Kisses sometimes feels like suffocating.

Touch- no matter how gentle - could make your skin crawl.

Even when your partner held you in the safest way, your mind whispered, what if they get tired of waiting? What if they leave?

You love them, but you hated yourself for feeling like this.

-Vi

● Vi had always been patient with you. She never pushes, never pressures you - just waits for you to come to her when you're ready, but she does notice this from the beginning of the relationship. How you'd tense slightly when things got to heated. How your kisses always stopped before they could get too deep. She doesn't pressure you or anything. She waits for to be ready, but what she doesn't know is that you don't think you'll ever be ready.

●Tonight is another restless night. You lie beside vi, staring at the ceiling while she sleeps, steady and warm next to you. You wish you could be at peace like that, but the weight on your chest won't let you breathe properly. You bite lips, trying to hold the tears back, but your body betrays you. A quiet sob escapes before you can stop it.

●A slight shift, then a groggy, sleep rough voice:

●"Babe?" Her voice is thick with sleep, but the concern is immediate.

●She sees you curled up, shaking. Something in her chest hurts.

●She reaches out, but the moment her hand brushes your back, you flinch. That makes her freeze.

●"Talk to me, sweetheart."

●You shake your head, hands gripping the sheets like they're the only thing keeping you together. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

●"For what?" Vi asks, brow furrowing.

●You try to explain how you want to be normal, how you hate that you pull away when she touches you, how you're afraid she'll get frustrated and walk away like everyone else did. Your voice cracks as you confess what happened in the past, how you were used, how your body never felt like yours.

●Vi listens, silent, herfists clenching under the blankets. Not at you, but at the people who did this to you. At the world that made you feel so fucking small.

●She leans in, gently tilting your chin up so you can see her eyes - so full of love and unwavering devotion.

●"You never have to apologize for this. Ever." She kisses your forehead, slow and lingering. "I don't need anything from you, okay? Just you. However you are, whenever you're ready. And if you're never ready? That's fine, too."

●Your breath hitches. "But... what if you get tired of waiting?

●Vi huffs a small laugh, but there's no humor in it - only warmth.

●"Then I'll wait longer."

●For the first time in a long time, you believe someone.

-Jinx

●Jinx sleeps like the dead usually, but tonight, something pulls her from her dreams - maybe it's instinct, maybe it's the way the bed feels too cold despite your body being right there.

●And then she hears it. Soft, muffled crying, her heart clenches.

● Jinx turns over, rubbing her eyes, then freezes when she sees you curled up, facing away from her, shoulders shaking.

●"Babe?"

●You stiffen, hurriedly wiping your face. "Sorry, I - just go back to sleep."

●Jinx isn't having it. Within seconds, she's hovering over you, pressing her forehead against the back of your head.

●"Nuh-uh, nice try. What's wrong, sugarplum?"

●You try to hold it in. You do. But the moment she snakes an arm around your waist, anchoring you to her, it all comes spilling out in broken whispers.

●Jinx listens. And for once, she doesn't joke, doesn't deflect - just holds you, silent and still, until you're done. When you finally stop, she exhales a shaky breath.

●"Damn, that's been eatin' at you this whole time, huh?" You nodded.

●Jinx is quiet for a long moment, and then she turns you into her arms, cupping your face. "Listen up, cause I ain't sayin' this twice. You? You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me. And I don't give a shit if we ever do anything like that. I just want you, yeah?" Tears spill over again, but this time, there's relief in them.

●Jinx smirks softly, brushing a thumb over your cheek. "Now come here, lemme squeeze the sadness outta ya." She pulls you against her, tucking you under her chin, holding you like she'll never let go, Because she won't.

-Caitlyn Kirraman

●Caitlyn has always been patient, but tonight, when she wakes to the sound of your quiet sobs, her heart shatters.

●"Darling?" Her voice is soft, laced with concern. You curl in on yourself. "I- I can't do this."

●"Do what?" Caitlyn sits up, brushing her fingers over your back. "Be what you deserve." Caitlyn breath catches, "love, look at me."

●You hesitate, but finally do. And when you see her face - soft, full of love, worried - the words come pouring out.

●You tell her everything. The past, the guilt, the fear that she'll leave. Caitlyn listens, her hand gently rubbing yours.

●"I wish I could take the pain away." She says softly. "I wish I could erase every horrible thing they did to you. But since I can't... let me show you that love doesn't have to be like that."

●You choke back a sob.

●Caitlyn presses a tender kiss to your knuckles. "No matter what, I'm here. We go at your pace, always."

●Her words wrap around you like the warmest blanket. And finally, after all these years, you believe it.

[macsimagines]

YANDERE!SHINICHIRO SANO ONE NIGHT STAND

ok so here it is. I hope it's ok I'm kinda iffy about it let me know what you all think!! this is worst timeline btw!!!

MINORS DNIWARNINGS: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ONE NIGHT STAND, SPANKING AND DRINKING

You had no idea what you were even doing with your life. Late at night, in a run down jazz bar, you found yourself sitting on a stool sipping a cocktail all by yourself.

The piano on stage skillfully played a tune that was just pleasant enough for you to feel yourself to start to ease slightly. Maybe the drinks and bar itself weren't anything special, but at least there was music.

"Tastes like shit," a somber voice says to your side. You look over your shoulder and your eyes meet a dark pair. Two onyx eyes that seemed to only reflect abyss.

Maybe on a different day you would have just ignored him, but tonight? You were feeling brave.

"What's wrong with it?" you inquire, suddenly finding the stranger fascinating. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark soul. You think you may have a type.

His eyes barely lift from his glass, a dark liquid swirling with his ice, "It's bitter." He answer plainly. Maybe his monotone response should make you reconsider trying to spark a connection...but something about his voice...

"It's... bourbon, right? You should've gotten a cocktail if you wanted something sweeter," you purr, pushing your own glass toward him, "Wanna taste mine?"

Finally, his eyes fully meet yours and something in the way that they analyze you has a shiver running across your skin. He's handsome, pretty even, and you find yourself feeling just a little hot under his intense stare.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. There's the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes. Then he's sliding his hand, purposefully brushing your fingertips, and taking the glass from you. Your eyes never break contact as he brings the glass to his lips, his tongue licking at the sugar coated rim first.

You can feel your thighs clench at the erotic image this stranger makes. Something inside of you aching with a sudden need. "Well?" you say, scooting in closer, "Better?"

"Dunno," the man says leaning in closer, "I'm in the mood for somethin' much sweeter." You feel a rough hand come up and firmly squeeze your thigh.

Maybe its the alcohol, the atmosphere, or those gorgeous void like eyes of his, but you find yourself checking into a hotel with that stranger. Yes. Stranger.

His name doesn't matter, what he does for a living or why he's in this part of town. The only thing that matters is how good his hands feel around your throat and inside your aching pussy.

You don't care about all his tattoos or the fact that their was a danger slowly growing in those perfect eyes of his. A strange sort of obsession?

Tonight, you don't fight. When his hand cracks down hard against your ass, you moan and beg for more. When he makes you kiss him and devours every sound you try to make. And not even when he's plunging deep into you and pounding like a man going for broke.

As you start to see stars and get light headed, you allow this man, a man whose name you didn't even care to know, to have his sick and depraved way with you.

"Be my good-girl," he purrs a rough hand coming to wrap around your neck, "Stick out your tongue for me." You end up mindlessly doing as he says, so eager to please. And your pussy clenches and flutters around his thick girth when he meets it with his own.

Shamefully, you're just moaning when you fill him cum inside you, loving the feeling. And finally the man stops his constant praise of 'Good girl, perfect woman, mine so fucking mine,' to look you in the eyes again.

There's something different about them. Almost child like and wide. There is the smallest light in them and through the haze of your orgasm you swear there was something else...

But you're so spent and exhausted that you end up passing out in his arms. You're sure it won't matter in the morning, either one of you will be gone. Right?

You're surprised to find him still sleeping soundly next to you. You can't believe your good luck when you find he was as beautiful as you had remembered him being. The pleasant soreness of your body also told you that the sex hadn't just been the greatest wet dream of your life.

Its a shame you have to go. You two might actually be compatible, but something like that just didn't work out for you. Maybe if things were different... No. You won't let yourself fall for some stranger.

You're trying to get yourself dressed and out the door as quietly as possible but something is grabbing your wrist and pulling you back-! Right into someone's solid chest.

"Quit makin' all th'racket," he slurs, nose rubbing into your neck, "Lay back down with me, baby."

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks and his soft touches remind you of everything from the night before. Fuck you want to stay for another round- or 3 -but you really needed to leave. So you try to push back.

"S-Sorry for waking you. I'll be out in just a second. I'll leave my half of the bill-!"

"You're not fucking going anywhere, Y/N."

Ice quickly runs down your spine. You're very sure you didn't tell him your name. You were supposed to be nameless strangers after all.

You turn to glare at him seeing that he has his phone open. "I had a friend of mine do some diggin' on you after you passed out last night." He tells you calmly. Like he didn't just admit to doing a creepy back ground check on you.

"Let go of me." You demand fighting back harder, "I want to go home!"

This man only smirks from where he sits on the bed his eyes having gone back to being cold and dead. "You brought me back into the light, baby. I'm your home now."

[lis-likes-fics]

Willing and Able

Pairing(s): Aegon Targaryen x servant!Reader Word Count: 1.6k words Prompt: Blowjobs Warnings: NSFW, smut, allusions to noncon/rape, mentions of prostitution, oral (m!revieving) cum on face, allusions to sex... A/N: This is the first fic of my Valentine's Day event. Hope you enjoy and happy reading.

You are likely the only maid in the whole of the Red Keep who has served under Aegon Targaryen and not been frightened away.

The first time he had caught you in the middle of your cleaning duties, it had been a bit by surprise. It was a bit jarring, but you had ultimately expected it and were prepared.

You are not new to things like this. You were raised in a pleasure house—your mother was a whore—so you have had your practice. So when the prince snuck up on you, you were more than willing to submit to him.

It helps the others at least. The ones who have come and gone, and the ones who still come now take less of a blow with you around to better control his impulses. There have been fewer complaints. While they snicker behind your back about it, they make no move to stop you.

“Darling, won't you do me a favor?” Aegon coos with false affection.

You had hoped to finish your chores before getting caught up by his whims, but no matter. He had been patient enough to let you dust his bedchamber first, watching you the way a dragon guards his hoard. You felt his gaze, stuck to your skin like sap. You heard the sound of a deep hum every time you bent in no particular direction.

You hum lightly, “Yes, my prince?” You continue gathering dirty clothes in a basket to be cleaned.

You had not heard him stand. He can be so swift sometimes, so quiet. You would never see him coming if you were not so used to his advances.

His hand wraps around your arm, pulling you gently back as he turns you to face him. He cups your chin with his hand, his fingers caressing your skin as his thumb brushes against your lips.

He takes the basket, lets it drop to the floor with little care. “I have been thinking of you all day,” he purrs. “Thinking about this precious little mouth of yours…”

You would never admit it to any of the others…but you quite enjoy this part of your job. You could not say you hold immunity against his charms, which he possesses only when his advances are not so forceful. You enjoy his embrace because you know how to handle it, how to handle him. You let yourself melt into his hand, against the heat of his body.

“Well, perhaps then I know how to quell your thoughts,” you smirk, tilting your head slightly. You place your hands to his chest, slowly walking him back until he is forced to sit once more.

He looks up at you, a slick grin on his lips as you lower yourself into his lap. You slip your hand behind his neck, cupping the back of his head and guiding him to your lips.

His mouth is hot against yours, very hot. You assume it to be a Targaryen trait—it must be. His tongue licks against your lips, tasting you with an appreciative hum.

You tilt his head back, your nose grazing the underside of his jaw as you lick and nip at his neck, teasing and tasting him and relishing the way he sighs.

Your nails scratch at his scalp, taking locks of silver hair between your fingers and twirling them. You giggle with every little hitch of his breath, worse when his hands come to your hips, gripping and grasping possessively.

You nip at his ear as you whisper through a soft breath. “I assume my prince likes what I'm doing.”

He chuckles lightly, his lips curled in a smirk. “You assume correctly.” You answer with a hum, scratching his scalp and kissing the curve of his jaw.

“I am pleased.”

His grip tightens on your waist, pulling your hips closer to his own with the slightest growl in his voice. “I had hoped you would be so pleased as to not tease me.” He turns his lip in a fake pout. “You know how fragile I am.”

You giggle, standing from his lap. “As my prince commands,” you smile.

You sink slowly to your knees, your eyes boring into his own as you do. You place your hands on his thighs, and as one slips farther up, his smile grows when you push your palm into the bulge in his trousers.

You undo his belt with skilled fingers, dipping your hand into his trousers and pulling out his half-hard cock with a sigh. He is hot in your hand, aching for your mouth to wrap around him and bask in your warmth.

“May I?” you ask, fluttering your lashes.

He raises a brow like he is unamused by your teasing. “You better.”

You hum a laugh, tucking yourself close as you stick your tongue out. You lick along the underside of his cock, feeling the pulse of the thick vein running along it and disappearing under the head.

He groans, spreading his legs further apart and scooting down the chair enough to lounge. “Much better,” he hums deeply. His hand comes to settle in your hair, though he does not guide you. Yet.

You tease him with your tongue until you feel him getting antsy. As you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, his lips twitch into this sick, twisting smirk.

You close your eyes as you suck him down, wasting no time in burying the length of him down your throat, which squeezes around him as it stretches. You have done this enough times by now that your gag has suppressed into something far more manageable.

His hand tightens in your hair, and you hum at the pleasant sting in your scalp. His leg twitches as the vibrations make their way through his body, and his hips jerk lightly as they press him further into your mouth.

“That’s it, darling,” he grunts.

He holds your head still, stopping the bobbing of your head in favor of thrusting his hips up into your mouth. Tears gather at the corner of your eyes as he begins an assault on your throat, pushing his cock deep inside of it with fast, rough thrusts. It's hard not to choke a couple times with the ruthlessness of it.

“Fuck,” he curses, his voice choked up with pleasure. “There you are. Take it all, sweet thing.”

You brace your hands on his thighs, feeling your chest constricting as you begin to lose air. He still fucks your throat with no sign of an end when it becomes too much. You push off of him to gather a deep gasp of breath.

He does not let you go very long before he growls roughly, taking your head with both hands and forcing your mouth back around him. He pushes you all the way down, throwing his head back and moaning at the feeling. “You did not think you would get away so quickly, did you?” he taunts breathlessly. “I am not finished with you yet.”

You let him do as he pleases, grateful at least for the air you managed to steal. You are even more grateful when you feel him twitching on your tongue, his hands flexing as the tell-tale sign that he will not last much longer.

You suckle around him, hollowing your cheeks and feeling the heat of your cunt aching to be filled when the loud smacking sounds of his cock pushing in and out of your mouth fills the room. It is wet and sinful, and if you thought the gods cared, they would likely be offended by the way you suck him down like honey. This kind of lust is nothing if not one of the darkest of sins.

His fist tightens in your hair, and you brace yourself as you feel him forcing your head down until your lips are pressed against his pelvic bone. You suck around him as much as you can, listening to him moan as he finally reaches his peak.

“Gods be good,” he strains, spilling into your mouth. Before he is done, he pulls you off of him as your mouth falls open, your tongue hanging out of your mouth to take in deep, desperate breaths.

Aegon stares at your face with dark eyes and a clenched jaw as he pumps his cock in one hand, coaxing the rest of his release with rough groans. Ropes of thick, hot cum paint your face, staining your cheeks and nose and chin in royal, white pleasure.

Aegon falls back against his seat, panting as his hands fall from you and his cock. He watches as you close your mouth and swallow down the cum on your tongue. He smirks, mesmerized by you and your skill.

“Always such a good little thing for me, aren't you?” he breathes.

You smile, pleased by his pleasure. “I try my best, my prince,” you whisper. You wipe his cum from your face with your fingers, staring up at him as you dip those fingers into your mouth. You swear you see his cock twitching, not quite as soft as it just was as he stares at you in pure admiration.

“I suggest you go now before I have you bent over the table,” he warns, already leaning forward toward you. You hum, sitting up on your knees to meet him in one of his all-consuming kisses. He groans at the taste of his cum on your tongue.

The offer is tempting, but if you fall behind on your duties then you will have one of the head servants to deal with. So with a sigh, you pull away and stand to your feet.

You try to clean your face off as much as you can. Your hair is all but a mess. As you gather the basket full of his dirty clothes in your arms, you give him a short wink before stepping out of his chambers.

“My prince.”

You will be seeing him tonight.

Ice and Fire taglist: @divinearchangel @alexxavicry @katsukis1wife @kmc1989 @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @lover-of-books-and-tea @avalyaaa @rozendiors @seabasscevans @hc-geralt-23 Tag yourself here...

[writer-freak]

Spoiled Rafayel x bodyguard reader

Idea: Spoiled bratty rich girl x bodyguard who's forced to put up with it

Warnings: Gn reader, fluff, AU, strong reader, Rafayel being overdramatic, Rafayel being a tease and a bit of a brat, pretty short I just wrote down whatever came to me A/n: I had this little idea of for a spoiled rich girl x reader and who would fit better for this type of a scenario than Rafayel. Reader isn't really meant to be Mc and this is more of an AU. Maybe I'm gonna write some more for this idea as I find it pretty fun.l

"You're not carrying me?" Rafayel blinked at you, all wide, expectant eyes, his lips forming into a pout. "But my legs hurt."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Your legs don’t hurt. You just don’t want to walk."

He gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just stabbed him. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing? I—"

"You literally just told me that your custom-made boots are the most comfortable things you've ever owned."

"A betrayal of this magnitude... and from my own bodyguard!" He dramatically leaned against the nearest wall, resting the back of his hand on his forehead.

"Rafayel."

"Look at me, left to suffer. The streets are so—so dirty, and here I am, expected to walk like some commoner."

You were this close to walking away and letting him figure it out himself. But no, you were his bodyguard, and no matter how insufferable and annoying he was, you were stuck with him.

Unfortunately.

"Listen, your highness," you drawled, grabbing his arm and forcing him back upright. "You have two perfectly good legs. Use them. Or do you want me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you like a sack of potatoes?"

His eyes shined at that, a wicked smirk appearing on his lips. "Oh? How bold of you. Are you sure you can handle all this?" He gestured vaguely at himself. "I am quite the precious cargo."

You let go of his arm. "Walk."

"Ugh, fine." He sighed like you were asking him to climb a mountain instead of just taking a few steps. "But if my legs fall off, I hope you can live with the guilt."

This was your life. Babysitting a spoiled, dramatic, and entirely too attractive pain in the ass.

You weren’t sure exactly when things started to change.

Maybe it was the way he started listening to you more, actually taking your orders seriously instead of treating them like some funny suggestions.

Maybe it was the way he’d hover a little too close after a fight, his eyes scanning you for injuries, lips drawn into a rare frown.

Or maybe it was the way your heart didn’t jump in frustration anymore when he teased you, but instead, your heart jumped with some other more dangerous feeling.

"You know," Rafayel mused one day, sprawled across a luxurious couch while you stood stiffly by the door. "I think I've grown quite fond of you."

You arched a brow. "Oh? In a ‘you’re my favorite servant’ kind of way?"

He grinned. "In a my bodyguard is the only person I trust and also happens to be devastatingly attractive kind of way."

You stared at him. "Rafayel."

"Yes, my dear protector?"

You exhaled sharply, trying so hard not to let his words affect you. "You can’t just—just say things like that."

He tilted his head, his eyes glittering. "Why not? Does it fluster you?"

You turned away, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. "I’m leaving."

"But who's going to protect me from all the dangers of the world that are out to get me?"

"You'll be fine."

"Wait, wait!" He scrambled up. "Fine, fine! I won't tease you. At leasdt not as much." He looked at you, his gaze softer now. "But you are my favorite."

You sighed, but this time, you couldn’t quite fight off the small smile tugging at your lips.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.

Divider by: @cafekitsune

[bellamyblake]

Bellamy Blake appreciation week 2025

Day 7: Free choice: Bellamy calling out Clarke's name

Headcanon moment: He first started doing it after she left when they destroyed Mount Weather. He'd have nightmares, most of them ending with Octavia and Clarke getting melted right before him with his hand on the lever. Then there were others, even more horrible ones when he was in the forest and he was watching Clarke get torn apart by wolves or mountain lions or whatever twisted creature was out there while he was tied up to a trie unable to move. A lot of them were with the two of them standing on top of a pile of bodies, her looking at him, telling him she had to go as her face somehow started getting covered in blood and she fell down with the rest of the bodies in his feet. So many really...he couldn't count them even if he tried. He had stopped sleeping and only took on night guard shifts so that at night nobody would hear him scream in his room. At first Octavia, Monty or Harper would come by and ask if he was okay, his sister the most worried out of them all but he quickly shrugged her off. When he figured he was yelling too loudly, he shoved a piece of cloth in his mouth so he wouldn't be heard or covered himself with the pillow instead of sleeping on top of it. He quickly realized that he could avoid everyone when he took night guard shifts and "slept" during the day. He could barely catch more than twenty minutes, half an hour at best before he woke up. He was exhausted and he barely funcitoned but to everyone else he pulled up a brave face. He went on recon missions, he chopped woods, he hunted when he wasn't working and he took care of the kids in his own quiet way because he had promised her that. At night he lay on the floor-chest against the ground, pillow above his head and he woke up every time with her name on his lips, crying and most of all with his heart aching. It hurt so much, in the literal sense, it skipped beats and he felt light headed and when he couldn't breathe well, he would place his hand there and close his eyes. By then he had been thinking of her and talking to his broken heart and every time he did that he saw her before him as if she was truly there. "Hey, Clarke." he started talking to her at night when he couldn't sleep or when he was at the gates doing a shift. "Today's been hard. Jasper's not fine, we found him passed out outside the gates. He's lucky he wasn't attacked by an animal or the grounders. He drinks all the time now. Sometimes I take a glass or two of moonshine myself but it does nothing to fix things, nor does it help me sleep. Monty is plagued by nightmares like me and Harper still has trouble walking. The kids don't like it here, they ask me if we could go back to the dropship, just us but I shake my head. I can't do it without you there. I couldn't keep them whole and together. I can barely do that with myself. They don't know, nobody does...I worry what I'll do if one day it gets to be too much and I can't keep myself above water. I won't let it happen, though. I made you a promise." he'd rub his chest "I hope wherever you are, you are safe. I miss you." he wanted to add one more sentence, the one that truly meant everything but he couldn't, not even when he was talking to himself, he couldn't do it. He thought it, though and he looked up at the night sky above him-she was out there and she'll always be with him no matter what. He just had to remember that.

[viir-tanadhal]

am i simply cursed to not find a hotspot review that i like

[muchanmocha]

When I was looking through the artbook for the first time I genuinely teared up 3 different times. And one of them was Shine's profile for Mizi.

Your tags are amazing prev, wanted to get my thoughts on this section in particular!

If we take a look at Shine's chart, we have zero data on any of their stats (Intelligence, Moral Sense, Awareness, Life Expectancy, Status, Wealth). This lines up with Shine's tag #mysterious race — they're likely a mystery to even other segyein (aliens). But there's another important tag here: #transcendent being.

transcendent (Merriam-Webster)

— extending or lying beyond the limits of ordinary experience

— being beyond comprehension

— transcending the universe or material existence

Shine is a "being beyond comprehension" who "transcends the material existence."

With this description, it's no surprise that they would be entrusted with something by an "old and divine existence."

But what does it mean to be a transcendent being? What does it mean to be beyond the material world?

Personally I think it implies they do not involve themselves in worldly matters which includes wealth, status, and in relevancy to our topic, the morals of the segyein community. I think Shine, as "masters of the deep sea" no longer concern themselves with issues of the world at large, only that of the domain under their protection and management. Not to say that can't or won't change with the recent events.

Let's also look at Shine and Mizi and the latter's entry into Alien Stage. (Putting this under the cut bc it's unnecessarily long lol)

Shine is very clearly designed based on jellyfish, and all of these cues (the popularized "immortal jellyfish," "creatures of the deep sea," being "a mysterious race") surrounding them indicate that there's a high chance of Shine having a very long lifespan, if not immortal altogether. Either way it would be incomprehensibly more vast than we or Mizi and co. can conceptualize as humans.

Let's say you have a pet hamster. You've grown very attached to this hamster. You love them to bits and they're the brightest joy in your life and you would do anything for them [insert I've only had Arlo for a day and a half meme].

One day your hamster says they want to do this very cool and amazing thing that might end in their death or maybe not but the thought of it makes their little eyes light up and — OFC YOU SAY NO!! Is this little guy crazy??

But then you think again.

Because of their biological limitations, this little guy is only going to live a year or two. Maybe three if you take very good care of them.

Do you really have the right to dictate what your little guy can do in the short, short year they have to live? Even if it's for their own good? Do you have the right to say no if this is what they truly want? What their dream is for their short time on this planet?

Would it be selfish of you to choose keeping them with you longer over what they want? For the sake of extending 1 year with them to 3?

No matter what, Mizi's time with Shine was limited from the start.

Their time together was always going to be short. So why not do whatever they can to give her the best and happiest life possible while she's still with them? Why not try to grant as many of her wishes as possible? Even if one of those wishes will shave down the time they have, if it could make Mizi all the happier, wouldn't that be worth it for Mizi's sake?

From the perspective of a potentially near-immortal race, the difference between a handful of years and two handfuls of years is minimal.

Shine definitely wouldn't be on board with Mizi participating on Alien Stage but I can see why they would choose to support Mizi's wishes despite the risks.

But this is with the aforementioned by prev canonical "inability to truly understand humans bc they're aliens/segyein" coming into play.

Bc this reasoning is flawed ofc haha.

Mizi was a child, prob less than 6 years old when she was sent to Anakt Garden which means she likely told Shine she wanted to do it way back then and idk about you but 6-year-olds prob shouldn't be making life or death decisions.

Mizi also wasn't aware of the stakes at hand. I can see various reasons for why Shine wouldn't enlighten her of it, if they even realized this was a need. Additionally if Shine as a race are long-lived, Mizi wouldn't have many opportunities to encounter death as a concept among her companions in her homeland.

Anyway those are some of my extrapolations from the text with random thoughts thrown in haha

I hate alien stage…

I’ve recently gotten really into alien stage. I’ve been avoiding it because I wanted to finish watching milgram but I got curious and just decided to watch it. Point is I hate it. I hate it for a very stupid reason that’s honestly my own fault. I hate it because I fell in love with this stupid character.

Not Mizi (even though I love her also)

HER I LOVE THIS STUPID ALIEN AND I HAVE NO CONTENT FOR HER

EVER SENSE I FOUND OUT SHE EXISTED IVE BEEN LOSING MY MIND BRO

Shine my beloved ❤️❤️❤️❤️

The only good alien in this stupid series

Someone please make more shine content I love them so much…

Someone please tell me I’m not the only one…

Like I genuinely love them more than the other characters.

They could actually be the worst character in the series and I wouldn’t know sense I just got into this stupid thing

Shine… please… I need more content

[blujayonthewing]

I've thought a lot about the several thousand year old gnome druid we met who was just bitter and jaded and had spent most of those millennia sitting in one place not doing anything in particular except mourning her tiefling wife who'd died millennia ago, and how disgusted and infuriated with her melliwyk is, personally but also as a gnome herself-- and I'm thinking about it again like. honestly I think it goes beyond general cultural values; that level of willful ongoing stagnation and joyless nihilism is probably completely seriously a gnomish sin

[nostalgia-tblr]

loki/william rufus fic, where bill explains that as the second son he has inherited england while big brother bob only got the duchy of normandy, ha ha ha.

[ahyperactivehero]

not me basically typing out my own transcipts of most of season 2 of good omens because i have shitty hearing/memory and need it to reference in fanfics, metas, edits, etc

[kanene-yaaay]

*incoherent noises*

Senseless writing drama in the tags because what is life without a bit of dramatics 😎

[jessicatredes]

im on a business trip & the two mornings here i've been woken up by a rooster at 4am

[villain-in-love]

And here, ladies and gentlemen, is the actual Mad Hatter:

One of the best chains in the series (or at least the most epic-looking), and the one capable of destroying other chains and literally anything else that derives it's power from the abyss. A parting gift from Intention of Abyss herself, created specially for Break to use.

...not without nasty side-effects, though.

That thing is literally killing him in the process.

Though if I remember correctly, it's not the Mad Hatter by itself that is dangerous to use, but the fact that it's Break's second contract with a chain, and the previous one was illegal... I am not going to explain the whole mechanic of contracts here, the point is – his chain is eating away at his body, and in the best traditions of the 19th century, mangaka decided that coughing up blood as a sign of illness is, like, the coolest idea ever. Which is why Break will spend at least one third of the story covered in his own blood because this idiot just. Won't. Stop. Using. His. Goddamn. Chain.

Literally the only person in the entire manga who had a proper response to his bullshit was Gil:

Yep, that's Break, sent flying face into the ground. Fabulous kick, I must say.

And right on time, because the idiot in question was losing a battle and decided that his only option was to do the thing that will certainly kill him this time, but at least he will take his opponents with him. Yes, he's suicidal. No, he does not know when to give up.

By the way, yes, it will eventually kill him.

[shataarooj]

‼️ Humanitarian Appeal from the Depths of Suffering🥹‼️

✅ Vetted by @lavalampadvocate -vetted link

✅ Vetted by @karlmarxmaybe - vetted link

✅ Vetted by @jolyne-best-jojo vetted link

First of all :

I'm Areej I was an English teacher before war and everything change after October 7. Also I'm a creative writer at we are not numbers.

Also I am a mother of three children. We have lived through the war for a year and a half, and we have lost everything we own. My husband is a man who did not work before the war and even now. And I lost my job in teaching because of the current situation, the school was destroyed and many of my poor students was died by the missiles 😭

So i did not have a breadwinner or any source of income . But I didn't give up to teach so I volunteered to teach some students near my camp in IBM Rushed school. There where many family were displaced from the north of Gaza. Actually it was a good chance for me to know more people and to try to engage students with English after this bad war. I held many activities with the for fun and learning and they were happy for this great chance so I hope to return to have my project to enable more students to engage with my voluntury work. I hope you help me and understand my holy target for helping students in their education. 🙏🙏🙌💯

Your help also will also help me in rebuilding my own family home.

Today, after the war, the truce has entered its first phase in Gaza, and I now live in a tent and do not have a house after it was destroyed by missiles. I now ask you to help me rebuild my house. And buy basics for the daily essentials for my children and I need money so that we can stand up again and start again.

This war wasn't easy at all it has taken many friends at work, students and some of my colleagues at the university. They are almost ten souls I won't never forget . Their laughter, their presence, their love… all of it is gone, leaving behind memories that are both precious and painful. Every day, I carry the weight of their loss, but I also carry their spirit, which gives me the strength to keep going.

Ours daily suffering in this bad war 😭🥺

Here’s what life in Gaza looks like for my family right now in tents when it rain

🏠 Safety: The uncertainty of tomorrow weighs heavily on us.

😢 Loss: The absence of my students and my friends is really hurts.

💔 Dreams on Hold: The future feels so far away when survival takes all our strength.

Life : it becomes harder

How You Can Help Us Cross the Finish Line

Even the smallest act of kindness can make a difference:

. $5 might not seem like much, but it could mean a meal, clean water, or a tiny bit of hope for my family.

. Can’t donate? Reblog this post to help us reach someone who can. Every share matters more than you know.

Why Your Support Matters

Your kindness isn’t just about helping us meet our goal—it’s about reminding us that we’re not alone in this fight. It’s about hope. It’s about survival. And it’s about giving my family a chance to rebuild our lives, even in the face of unimaginable loss. Also I need to rebuild my future and to start building my project to teach students who are in need so my friend it will be great from you to help you this war destroy everything and many schools here in Gaza

Please help my future to be better and give me hope again with your humanity and passionate everything can come true 🙏❤️

I'm looking forward seeing this smile again on my students faces. I'm so optimistic and so thrilled to see you be part for this humane deed ❤️🙏

Share and boost this to more people you know and who cares about innocent children and education around the world 👇🥺

With all of my respect Areej ❤️🙏