#oh no they are screwed in to tight to undo by hand

[mydignityisinflames]

Why is it whenever I attempt DIY there's always some extra fucking hurdle (sometimes self inflicted, mostly cause of shoddy workmanship from the previous owners) that makes what should be a simple job into a pain

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.

[spideyhexx]

mdni; had to write this real quick haha

billy working for your father and you sneak out of your room at night to meet him in a clearing near your ranch. He walks up to you with a smile, "There's my beautiful girl."

"You say that too much," you tell him, he scoffs, a smile still playing on his lips. "Cause 's always true. 'nd I always want my beautiful girl."

You shove at his chest, Billy purposely stumbling back a few steps.

"Can push me away all you want, baby, I'll want you just as much," he chuckles as he says it.

"Does it turn you on, too?" Your eyes flit down below his belt where his hard-on is showing then back to his eyes. Billy smiles more. "Oh, you caught me."

You smirk at him and move up closer until you can feel his body heat, his hands moving to your hips in an instant. But your hand rests right against his bulge, pressing your palm on it ever so slightly. "You're gettin' me riled up, we don't have much time," he mutters, clearing his throat, trying to feign some composure.

"Oh, I know, Billy. I know," and you press your palm firmer against him, rubbing him slowly over his pants, Billy's body involuntarily moving forward, his forehead pressing to yours.

"'M gonna go insane," he mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut as you continue palming him, only feeling him get harder. Billy tries to keep his breathing steady, but he lets out a shaky breath and you chuckle.

"Laughin'? You're laughin' at me?" His tone sounds annoyed, but he's smiling, his nose bumping yours the moment your fingers begin to fiddle with the buttons of his pants, undoing them. You peck his lips as you slip your hand into his pants. He bites his lip, stifling a groan when your hand wraps around his hard and pretty cock, stroking your hand up and then back down along the length of it.

You look down to watch yourself touch him, catching the sight of his tip and the way his hips press closer to your touch. You think to tease him more about how aroused he is this quick but you bite your tongue, focusing on how warm he feels, how thick he feels in your hand. Billy's jaw clenches as he grits his teeth. "You can make noise, there's no one here," you tell him, and he nods. "I know, sweetheart, but I can't risk it."

And it makes your heart drop for a moment, but then part of you savors the way his face screws up in pleasure. His teeth bite down on his lip as you quicken your pace, your hand jerking him just the way he likes it, your thumb swirling over his leaking tip and spreading the precum on his dick, which at the very least earns you a little moan from him. With each stroke, he wants to melt more into your touch. You take a second to focus on the head again, pressing your thumb to it, swirling your finger once more, and smiling as he tries to hold back his moans.

He closes his eyes a little tight, he grunts when you reach further down to caress the pads of your fingertips against his balls before returning to his cock.

"You're trouble," he mumbles and you feel the urge to shove him again but you hold back. "Yeah? Is it worth it?" You squeeze him in a gentle touch, stilling your hand. Billy opens his mouth to say something but then you start up your movements again, your grasp on him firm and purposeful as you jerk him, his hips trying to buck again but he stops himself, his words dying in the back of his throat.

So he just nods, sloppily kissing the corner of your lips, "I missed," he whispers. You giggle and kiss him correctly, swallowing a moan as you pump your hand faster. "'M warnin' you, 'm close," he says against your lips.

Billy gives your bottom lip a small kiss, his breath hitching when your thumb rubs his tip again. "Want you to come for me," you whisper to him, grinning at the way he shifts on his feet at your words.

"I will...I want to...fuck," he breathes out, leaning forward like he's gonna kiss you, but he lets out a moan instead, tipping his head back.

"I know, baby," you coo at him, leaning your head to his shoulder and looking down at your hand and his cock, the slight wet sound of your actions, your heavy breathing, and his muffled moans are the only things that can be heard right now. His cock twitches in your hand, "c'mon, come for me. Please?"

And you tilt your head up to look at him just as he looks down at you. Your eyes are big and your bottom lip jutting out just a little does it for him. Billy lets out a low grunt as he spills into your hand, no doubt making a mess of his pants as his come spurts out of him.

"Fuckin'...trouble," he mutters and shakes his head as he looks down at the mess, then at you as you remove your hand, licking his release off of your fingers with your eyes glued to his.

"Think your father would mind if I keep you out just a little longer?" He's joking, your father not even knowing you're there right now, but you shrug, quirking your lips into a smile as you start to walk away.

Billy doesn't let you get far, running over and wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up, spinning you around. "No fuckin' way you're leavin' like that, get your damn pants off."

let's chat about billy, here :)

[anonymouslosersworld]

♡ Succubus♡ 

Prompt; Mc/reader armed with the teaching Solomon decided to mess around with magical creations and like Icarus flew too close to the sun before falling... in their case fell victim to horniness.

Fandom: Obey me shall me date

Characters: Mammon, Leviathan, Solomon, Simeon, and Barbatos.

Genre: Smut (M)

Contains: dubcon, unprotected sex, dom reader, sex toys, voyeurism??, and corruption kink.

Credit goes to @asmology . They have wonderful blog and written pieces. I was so in love with their charmed series and just wanted to try my hand at writing it myself. Please don't hesitate and check out their blogs.

[Obey me masterlist]

Prologue; After you had successfully enrolled in the sorcerers' academy and become Solomon's one and only apprentice after a couple of months. He had encouraged you to explore magical items and such. Due to many lonely and hot nights, you settled on magical items. Using your knowledge you created a life-like magical dildo/vibrator of your love interest. Unknowingly to you {or maybe knowingly you did but wouldn't admit it}it was also charmed with your love interest feeling whatever you did to it.

Mammon

He couldn't go out there. Not with whatever the hell was fucking him so well. He had the strongest grip on his couch causing him to ruffle the fabric of his couch. He panted as the feeling intensified with time.

"f-fuck~!"

His well-planned scheme was put on hold as he was getting dicked down on his very own couch. His cum dripped from his balls staining his expensive couch.

"mmph~" His cock pulsed his orgasm nearby.

His body felt hot with sweat accuminating. He was hitting the deepest parts he could, thrusting into the feeling that was fucking him. His shirt was ripped off of him as it kept getting hotter and hotter with each orgasm he gave you.

"fuck me~!"

He could feel his tip hitting a spot that made the walls trapping him pulse around him squirm as he continued his attack on them. He was hungry for another orgasm that you took from him.

The last one was more intense than the rest keeping his thighs trembling. With him more sensitive and panting for more. He knows that whatever was screwing with him woukdnt let up until they were done. Without his cum filling you up.

Leviathan

"w-what kind of n-no-oh normie crap is thisss~"

Levi struggles to say as his face is red with embarrassment. His fist slammed into his desk as the sudden inwrapped feeling on his cocks stimulated him.

He couldn't concentrate on his game or continue to play indifferently when he was getting fucked so thoroughly.

"g-gah~!"

What was worse was it happened in front of his very own live stream. He had yet to get off his stream refusing to neglect the newly released game.

Levi's body wiggles as a way to distract himself but instead made it worse for himself as he accidentally jutted his hips towards the lustful fucking.

"normie trap.f-fuck~!" Levi's forehead hit his desk as he finally couldn't keep it in any longer.

His tight grip destroyed his mouse leaving nothing but shards of plastic with his grasp.

Barbatos

Water trickled down Barbatos leg to his thigh as he raised his leg from the edge of the tub. The warm water undoing some of the knots that had been forming on his back. Little droplet of water formed at barbatos neck before cascading down to his chest into the water at his waist.

He sighed as he took a sip from the costly wine and enjoyed the bath salts he had recently acquired from a merchant. While he was grateful he had a day off and deemed it a good day to just do some well-earned pampering he was bored out of his mind. There was nothing to do.

No one to do.

His mind took him to you

"aah~!"

The glass of wine he had been holding had been crushed from his grip.

Something had wrapped itself around his cock completely engulfing his cock. It was warm and inviting. Whatever decided to land itself onto his cock seemed to clench and spasm around his length.

"ooh~"

Before barbatos could even think of dispelling whatever was happening to him, it had started to move. He bit his lip as the walls around him clenched him in and grinded into his cock. The pace was a bit slow but deep and barbatos couldn't help but enjoy whoever was dumb enough to fuck him.

His grip on the bathtub's edge tighten as the pace began to quicken. His cock was being used like a cheap sex toy, his pleasure was only second to whoever was fucking him. His back arched as his cock was overwhelmed by the sudden spasming of the walls trapping him.

"-ark~! m-more!~" barbatos moaned weakly as his head leaned on the tub. His fingers early working on his nipples wanting to cum and unstress himself already.

Barbatos whimpered as you worked through his orgasm. What a greedy thing you were.

Solomon

You wanted to mess with Solomon just as he messes with you. So you had enchanted a lollipop as well as a sex toy. You could already see that the toy you had shoved into your hole was affecting Solomon's performance.

To the normal eye, you couldn't see anything but to your Solomon-trained eye, you saw that he was getting fidgety. He was hyper-focused on the feeling of his cock. You smirk as you decide to teasingly clench around the toy.

Solomon bit his lip, his fist clenched as he tried to go on with his lesson before you put your plan into action. You unwrap your special lollipop with a smile as you watch Solomon struggle.

You lightly breathe on the lollipop causing shivers down Solomon's spine. Solomon lets out a whimper as you roll the lollipop in your mouth.

"Y-you don't play fair," Solomon grunts as he slides down almost giving into you.

"Whatever do you mean my wise Solomon?" You say as you straddle him on the floor he sat down on. You scrap the lollipop with your teeth. Your smirk was hard to miss clearly you were enjoying this.

"Nngh fuuck~"

" Do you like it, my dear Solomon? How do you feel? hm?~"

"F-feels- fuck! Intense."

"I'm going to make you my bitch Solomon. It's what I deserve."

Simeon

Simeon was taking a stroll with Raphael in the garden in the celestial realm finally coming from the exchange program. He was chatting with Raphael about his and luke's experiences with Devildom before he felt just a whisper of something in his pants.

what was that?

His eyes widen as he felt a firm grip on his non-hard cock. Simeon's legs instinctually closed but it didn't stop the grip on his cock. His cheeks felt warm as the hand on his cock felt him up.

He quickly dismissed himself to the closest secluded room near him. Whatever was in his pants was just solely focused on his cock and seemed genuinely happy in fisting his cock with their hand.

Simeon sat on the toilet as the feeling faded.

Maybe he imagined it? Maybe all he needed was to air himself out?

Simeon unbuckled his pants and pulled them off mid-thigh. The air made his cock feel a little sensitive to the cold temperature.

"A-ah~!!!" In the freedom of the restroom, Simeon finally let out the moans trapped in his throat while you took his cock within your mouth shoving him the deepest you could before going back to slurping his tip.

The slimy tongue had encircled the tip of his cock making him feel the entire length of it . Simeon panted as he was tormented by whatever clung to him in devildom.

"p-please mercy~! I c-can't take it." Simeon begged the tight coil in his stomach tighten and he didn't know what it meant. He didn't know what or who he was begging to but his beg was answered.

"g-god~! So-oh~ good!"

His cock pulsed as his cum splattered around him and onto his clothes. His thighs trembled from the intensity of his first orgasm.

Requests are open! Feel free to request!

My works are only posted here! If you see any of my work anywhere else please report it.

Do not edit, translate or repost my work without my consent.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crossed Wires 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: silverfox!Andy Barber, Cole Turner

Summary: you try to balance your work with your private life as your boss and a new client try to blur the lines. (short!reader)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The gravel mulches loudly under the tires of the truck. You grip the ridged wheel as the seat belt strains against your shoulder. You make yourself sit back, the seat slid up as far as it will go. Still, the bumper shortens your perspective.

You figured you’d get a call to the old Orson place when you heard it sold. That was months ago though and the new owner finally set down roots there. You haven’t seen them, you’ve only heard the whispers that accompany any happening in Hammer Ford; from a new recipe to the juiciest of scandals. You pay much attention to any of it.

You keep your hands at ten and two as you follow the long gravelly drive to the farmhouse facade. There’s a single car parked outside the garage. It’s a sleek white SUV, luxury by the looks of the hood ornament. It’s not what you expect around here. That paint job will be dusty in now time, if not scratched by errant pebbles.

You pull in and shut off the engine. You undo your seat belt and check your watch. Right on schedule. You open the door and step on the rusted step below the door, letting yourself down with a hop. Your tan work boots kick up dirt as you round to the passengers side and swing the door open to retrieve your heavy work bag.

You sling the thick strap over your shoulder and snap the door as you head towards the house. You rest your hand on the side of the bag as you near the steps, searching for any sign of life. The stairs creak as you climb onto the low porch.

“Can I help you?” The deep voice startles you. 

You blink and turn to face the man sitting on the wooden boards, bolts and screws around him along with metal parts and wooden boards. You hadn’t seen him through the tight slats of the railing.

You keep your usual vague stare as you sniff, “got a call about the breaker.”

He squints at you, a squiggle forming between his brows. He’s older. His grey hair has a single bolt of its former dirty blond just above his forehead. Despite the heat and the dirt sprinkled over the boards, he wears a pair of dark slacks and a button-up rolled to his elbows.

“You’re the electrician,” he states as he sets aside the small screwdriver in his hand. He stands with a grunt, grasping his knee before he straightens.

“Sure am,” you reply flatly.

“I spoke with a man,” he intones, hands going to his hips as he looks down at you.

“That’s would be my boss. Cole.”

“That’s his name,” he steps forward, wiping his hand on his shirt, staining the light gray fabric, “Andy.”

He offers his hand and you shake it curtly. All the farmers pride themselves on keeping a firm grip and you never faltered with them. He squeezes before he lets you go. He doesn’t have the typical callouses, you even have a few.

“How’d you get into this work?” he wonders.

“It’s work. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t– I don’t mean anything,” he stammers.

“Didn’t think you did,” you sniff, “so, what am I looking at?”

“Well, I don’t really know,” he reaches back to rub his neck. The power keeps… flickering.”

“Ah, been a while, probably just need to wait for it to stabilize. City worker came out months ago for the meters,” you explain.

“Right, well, I heard sizzling.”

“Show me where you heard it.”

He nods and gestures you towards the door. Before you can reach it, he pulls the wooden screen door back and waits for you to enter ahead of him. He tells you it’s just down the hall and stop you near the basement door. You peer down the stairs and flick the light switch. There’s a low buzz.

“I don’t think you need to worry about it,” you look up, “but I can have a look.”

“Oh, okay,” he utters, “I also had another question. You might know something about it.”

You look at him. He seems put off by your expressionless stare.

“I wanted to install an automatic opener in the garage…”

“I can do the wiring, sure, long as you buy the parts,” you answer. “I can give you recommendations, odds are, you’ll need a whole new door as well.”

“Sure,” he agrees uneasily.

“Can schedule an appointment when you decide,” you turn your palm out, “I’ll just go grab my ladder and have a look then.”

You go to step past him but he’s not quick enough. You nearly collide and find yourself moving back and forth with him, trying to get by. You stop and stare. He stills himself and turns sideways, waving you by. You pass and let out a slow breath through your nose.

You stalk back down the hall and onto the porch. You hear him following you. You come down the steps as he continues his close pursuit. You don’t exactly know what he’s doing but you won’t ask. Cole says you need to work on customer service and not tell people to get out of your way.

You go around the bed of the truck and open the back. You reach for the ladder but another arm stretches further and faster. He pulls the ladder out before you can and you step back with a grunt.

“Hey, I can get it,” you insist.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind helping.”

“So why am I here?” You ask curtly, immediately knowing you asked a bad question.

“Sorry, I was just… being nice,” he says.

“Right,” you try to soften your tone, “it’s just… it’s my job. I can carry the ladder.”

“I know you can,” he looks down at you and you feel even smaller. You don’t like it when they try to play gentleman, it’s condescending. You might be short but you’re strong enough. 

“Thanks,” you grab the ladder and yank it from his grasp.

He lets go and you continue past him. He huffs and follows a few paces back from the end of the ladder. You angle it up the steps.

“At least let me get the door,” he inches past you, “okay?”

“Thanks,” you repeat in the same even keel.

You enter and take the ladder down the hall. He hovers just down the hallway, watching as he shifts his weight between his feet. He’s the worst kind of customer, the kind that have to supervise. 

You step up the ladder and look past it. “Mind holding it?”

“You sure?” He gives a trite arch of his brow.

You blink and keep your eyes from rolling, “I’d appreciate it, sir.”

He comes forward and braces the ladder staunchly. You climb up and suppress a snarl. City folk think you’re all backwards out here but they can’t wrap their damn head around a woman with a brain.

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

Show me

Pairing- Neytiri x reader

Summary- Shameless Neytiri smut tbh

Warnings- kissing, hickeys, fingering, clit on clit, riding, slight make out, biting, groping

Tìlor- beauty

Neytiri drops her bow startling you, turning around you see her, her breathing was hard, hair a little messy, a bits of blood on her knuckles telling she just got back from a hunt. And hungry for something, you.

She walks up to you, "Ma Y/N." She says grabbing the sides of your face and bringing you into a kiss, much rougher than usual not that you'd complain. She slides her tongue into your mouth sliding it over your fangs and then twirling it with your tongue. It wasn't much of a battle for dominance with her. She pulls away tugging at your bottom lip a little.

Neytiri picks you up and lies you down on the shared cot you both sleep on, "What is going on my tìlor." You whimper out as she slides her tongue on your neck. "Need you Ma Y/N." She says sliding her hands up and down your chest giving your breast a tight squeeze. "You have me my love." You say before a groan escapes your mouth from her biting your neck.

Her hand travels down to the thin cloth that covers you and snatches it off discarding it somewhere in the room. Her knee was hovering over your heat oh how you wished she would touch you there. She sucks on your neck for a little before picking her head up giving you a lustful smile, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Show me how you touch yourself." She says.

Your eyes widen and smile bashfully, "I- I can not it is not proper I am supposed to do that in privac- ah" You go to say before she guides her hand down to your core and begins rubbing your clit, breath hitching from the sudden friction. "Do you touch yourself like that," she says before pausing, "or like this." She asks before moving her hand to slide her middle and pointer inside on you and her thumb fucking your clit going at a ruthless pace.

You shake your head not being able to let the words come out of you, only whines and whimpers come out of you. She kisses from your jaw to your neck leaving a few dark blue marks. And soon you were clenching around her fingers, eyes screwing shut, hips jerking in the air, and Neytiri smiling at the image Infront of her, all of it from her own doing.

She fucks you through your high before sliding her fingers out of you, "Ma Y/N can you give me another one." She asks gently before licking her fingers clean. Opening your eyes and licking your suddenly dry lips before speaking, "Yes please." It came out more whiny than needed but it got the message across and she loves when you get whiny.

She undoes her cloth discarding it as she did yours, crawling in between your hips, spreading your legs a little more grounding herself on your pussy. She stays that way for a second before rocking her hips, her clit was on yours and the sounds coming from you both were unspeakable and you both loved every minute of it.

Groping her tits as she rocked her hips simulated her even more, she began rocking her hips faster and faster it wasn't long before she got you to your second orgasm, vision going blank, thighs trying to clamp together, toes curling the sight alone made Neytiri moan and it wasn't long until she came, one long moan came out of her fucking herself on you as she called out your name as if it was the only thing she knew and right now it was.

She slide off of you and lied next to you twirling your braid in her hand, "I love you Ma Y/N." She says. Turning over looking her in the eyes caressing her face, "I love you my tìlor."

[kckt88]

Take My Breath Away XIV

Summary:

Every story comes to a close.

Warning(s): Five Year Time Skip, Language, Smut - Vouyerism, Kissing, Self Pleasure, P in V, Anger, Threats, Aemond Being A Menace.

Word Count: 4597

GREENS WIN - ENEMIES TO LOVERS.

Tag List - @ammo23, @immyowndefender,

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“Take off your clothes” commanded Aemond, his voice low and stern.

“As you wish Valzȳrys” replied Vaeryna as she began undoing the ties on her dress. Her fingers moving agonizingly slow against the crisp silk material, as it slipped from her shoulders she moved to the fastenings on her shift, letting the sheer white material pool at her feet as it slid off her body (Husband).

“Now lie on the bed” said Aemond as he pulled off his eyepatch and began to remove his own clothes. Vaeryna obliged and slowly reclined against the soft opulent pillows.

“What else do you desire husband” asked Vaeryna as she watched Aemond’s naked form calmly sit in the chair that was situated in the corner of the room.

“Touch your breasts for me” instructed Aemond, his voice low and hypnotic.

Vaeryna did as he asked and slowly moved her hands to her breasts, closing her eyes.

“No. Keep your eyes on me” demanded Aemond.

Watching him intently she gently cupped her breasts, Aemond stared at her transfixed, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Is this pleasing to you, Issa zaldrīzes?” asked Vaeryna as she ran her fingers across slowly her erect nipples (My dragon).

“Very, now keep going Issa jorrāelagon” replied Aemond hungrily, his cock was hard and weeping; but he wasn’t going to give in (My love).

He was going to ensure she came from his instructions and then after that he would fuck her so hard into the mattress. Swallowing each and every one of her screams.

“Touch yourself” said Aemond; his mouth watering as he watched Vaeryna’s hand travel down her body.

“Aemond” moaned Vaeryna, biting her lip as she slid her fingers along her already wet folds, slowly stroking herself.

Aemond watched as his wife’s finger’s began circling her pearl, his fingers twitching with anticipation.

“Put your fingers inside yourself” said Aemond firmly.

Vaeryna readily obeyed and slowly slid two fingers inside her cunny, curling them slightly as she moved her hand back and forth.

“Oh, fuck” moaned Vaeryna quietly.

“Are you getting close” asked Aemond; his eyes firmly fixed onto Vaeryna’s shaking body.

“Yes. Yes-” cried Vaeryna as she began moving her hand faster.

“That’s it ābrazȳrys, come for me so I can fill you with my cock” replied Aemond, his fingers now digging into the wood of the chair (Wife).

Gods, she looked so beautiful, splayed naked on their bed pleasuring herself for him.

“A-Aemond, I’m-“ exclaimed Vaeryna, her back arching off the bed as she peaked.

Aemond rose from the chair and walked towards the bed, never taking his of Vaeryna whose eyes were now screwed shut, her chest heaving.

Aemond climbed onto the bed, holding himself above Vaeryna as he took her hand and placed the two fingers that she’d pleasured herself with into his mouth, expertly swirling his tongue around her wet digits, moaning at the taste of her.

“Hm-you taste delicious” growled Aemond.

“Aemond” gasped Vaeryna.

“I love you so fucking much” whispered Aemond as he reached down and pressed his hard cock to his wife’s warm wet folds.

Vaeryna’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped when Aemond surged forward; her tight warm wetness enveloping him.

Vaeryna’s body trembled under his, her arms and legs clinging to him, never wanting to let go.

“I love you too” moaned Vaeryna as Aemond thrust into her, hard, deep, and fast. Holding nothing back as he slammed into her, using no restraint.

Aemond then wrapped his arms tightly around Vaeryna’s body and lifted her off the bed, holding her body against the wall as he rutted into her.

“Yes. Don’t stop. Please” begged Vaeryna.

Aemond silenced her screams with his mouth, his tongue sliding against hers. They were ravishing each other with such ferocity that it could only be rivalled by animals.

Moving together in perfect synchronization; wrapped together as one.

Vaeryna clawed at Aemond’s back as he broke their kiss and began to suck her neck, his teeth grazing her skin every so often.

“Aemond, fuck-“ moaned Vaeryna as she was held against the wall with the force and agility of his thrusts.

His hands clasped around the meat of her thighs, never wavering in his aggressive movements.

He was close, so close, he could feel the heat shooting across his abdomen, his body aching for release.

"God. Yes. Vaeryna” growled Aemond as he gave a series of deep measured thrusts.

Sending them both over the edge.

Vaeryna’s entire body pulsating with euphoria as she clenched tightly around him.

Aemond moaned loudly as he exploded, spilling his seed deep inside her.

“That was incredible” gasped Vaeryna.

“I-I know” replied Aemond his chest heaving with exertion.

“Your amazing, do you know that” said Vaeryna as she gingerly unfurled her legs from around Aemond’s waist and took a deep shuddering breath.

“Everything ok?” asked Aemond as he reached out to steady his wife.

“Legs feel a little bit like jelly” replied Vaeryna.

Aemond chuckled slightly and then took his wife’s hand, guiding her to the bed,

“We’ve still got a bit of time before I need to attend a council meeting, so let’s enjoy it shall we” said Aemond as he climbed in.

“I like the way you think” replied Vaeryna as she snuggled closer to her husband.

“Not hiding from my brother, are you?” asked Aegon as he peered round the bush.

Vaeryna smiled and shook her head as she patted the ground next to her.

“-So, your sitting in the bush because?” wondered Agon as he sat down.

“Just a habit these days, plus it’s peaceful. I don’t have the children clamouring for my attention” replied Vaeryna.

“You’re the one that had like fifty of them” smirked Aegon.

“I had eight children. You cheeky twat” exclaimed Vaeryna as she shoved her good brother playfully.

“Yeah, one of which I helped to deliver” said Aegon shuddering at the memory of what he experienced on the day Aegar was born.

“That was five years ago, haven’t you got over it yet” quipped Vaeryna as she laid her head on Aegon’s shoulder.

“I saw things that day that I did not wish to see, allow me an appropriate amount of time to properly forget”.

“Five years not enough?” asked Vaeryna.

“Add another five onto it and maybe” said Aegon.

“How’s things going with you anyway? Feels like ages since we’ve spoke”.

“Everything’s fine, just been busy that’s all, we’ve started to receive offers of marriage for Aemon” replied Aegon.

“The boy is barely five name days old” exclaimed Vaeryna.

“Which is why, I’ve declined any further offers and providing I get the relevant permission, I plan to betroth Aemon to Daenys” said Aegon.

“This family doesn’t have a tree anymore, it’s a circle” laughed Vaeryna.

“I hope my decision is pleasing to you?” mused Aegon.

“It makes sense, have you spoke to Aemond about it?”

“I mentioned it after I’d dismissed the council, he was agreeable” said Aegon.

“Of course, Rhaegar, Jaehaera, Dany and Aeg need to be consulted”.

“That’s why I said providing I get the relevant permission” retorted Aegon.

“Look at you all grown up and making smart decisions” muttered Vaeryna raising her head to look at Aegon.

“I’m one and forty, it’s about time I developed a brain” replied Aegon.

“Just think, one day there will a King named Aemon” mused Vaeryna.

“Good job I won’t be alive to see it-I still can’t believe my daughter named her first son after my brother, the disrespect alone is enough to finish me off”.

“Oh, stop whining” snarked Vaeryna wrinkling her nose.

“Hey, you didn’t see the smug look on my twat of a brother’s face”.

“Well, he wasn’t so smug when Dany named her first son Daemon or when Aeg named their second son Jacaerys” replied Vaeryna.

“It was a glorious day, I thought he was going to combust” laughed Aegon.

“I think he still might” said Vaeryna giggling.

“Speaking of betrothals, are you still certain that you won’t betroth outside of the family?”

“I don’t wish to offend anyone, but we cannot allow the other houses to have dragons, it would invite challenge in the future. We won’t be here forever and after our house was almost decimated by the war, I think we should be cautious” stated Vaeryna.

“I completely agree, but my council does not”.

“They weren’t the ones who birthed eight babes, they do not get a say in who my children marry when they are old enough” replied Vaeryna firmly.

“Aemond said exactly the same thing-except for the birthing eight babes thing” said Aegon as he cocked his head to the side.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” asked Vaeryna.

“You have a mark on your neck” replied Aegon as he gently touched the love bite that Aemond had left on her skin just hours ago.

“Oh-“ gasped Vaeryna her cheeks tinged pink.

“So, that’s why Aemond was late to the council meeting” mused Aegon thoughtfully.

“I guess” muttered Vaeryna smiling as she remembered the feeling of Aemonds lips on her neck or his cock in her-

“-I swear the pair of you have an addiction”.

“I’ll remember that the next time I see Nessa and Markus sneaking out of your chambers after breakfast” replied Vaeryna smiling.

“So much for being discreet” muttered Aegon furrowing his brow.

“Look, at the end of the day you like what you like” said Vaeryna.

“But I can’t have what I like” whispered Aegon sadly.

“As much as I think Aemond might enjoy it, he’s far too possessive and he’d probably skin you alive if you ever dared to touch me in such a manner” replied Vaeryna.

“Yeah, I’m actually fond of my skin actually being attached to my body” said Aegon smiling.

“Me too” replied Vaeryna as she placed a kiss on Aegon’s cheek.

“Issa jorrāelagon” called Aemond (My love).

“Yes” said Aegon playfully as his brother came to a stop in front of him.

“Very funny” muttered Aemond rolling his eye.

“What is it Issa zaldrīzes” asked Vaeryna (My dragon).

“Dragons have been sighted approaching over Blackwater Bay”.

“Is this your doing?” asked Vaeryna as she gazed at Aegon who smiled.

“I might have sent a summons to Dragonstone”.

Vaeryna’s face lit up as she threw her arms Aegon, after Rhaegar and Jaehaera had relocated to Dragonstone, it was expected as he was the heir to the Iron Throne and the ancestral seat of House Targaryen belonged to him by right, but that didn’t stop Vaeryna from getting upset the day her eldest son and good daughter had packed up their belongings and with their son Aemon strapped to his mother’s chest, the two of them mounted their dragons and journeyed to Dragonstone.

It was much worse after Daenerys had wed Aegon the Younger and they also expressed an interest in living on Dragonstone, after being invited by Rhaegar and Jaehaera.

Vaeryna at first refused point blank to allow her daughter to go, but after a long conversation with her brother Aeg, she gave in. As much as Aegon was grateful to his sister for all she had done, he found it difficult living in Kings Landing and being on Dragonstone would make him happy as that’s where he had the fondest memories of their mother, father, and siblings.

Vaeryna would not deprive her brother of his happiness, but she still wept as she watched Silverwing flying away from Kings Landing with Daenerys and Aegon on her back.

Of course, Aemond was quick to remind her that Dragonstone wasn’t too far away, and they could always travel back and forth with the dragons if need be.

Which Vaeryna did, as her daughter had requested her mother’s presence when she birthed her children- the first was twins named Daemon and Daenys and the second was a boy named Jacaerys, admittedly Vaeryna did shed a number of tears when Aeg revealed the boy’s name, he was concerned that he’d done the wrong thing in honouring their brother, but Vaeryna insisted she was just being silly and it was a lovely name.

It would be nice to have another Jacaerys in their lives.

Jaehaera also requested her presence when she birthed her babes- a tiny but fierce girl she had named Elaena in honour of her mother and another son named Maekar.

Vaeryna couldn’t contain her excitement as four large dragons flew overhead and circled the Red Keep, roaring loudly to announce their arrival.

Aemond took her hand and quickly hauled her away from Aegon who rolled his eyes at his brothers blatant display of possessiveness.

“I’m going to wait for them by the gates” said Vaeryna eagerly.

“I shall join you in a moment” replied Aemond as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and watched with a smile as she rushed away.

“Right, let’s get this other with” said Aegon as he stood up, priming himself for the violence his brother was no doubt about to levy upon him.

“Must I constantly remind you to watch yourself whilst you are in the company of MY wife”.

“We didn’t do anything wrong” said Aegon.

“Whilst I understand that Ryna does hold some affection for you, I do not appreciate you consistently overstepping the boundary of what’s considered appropriate” replied Aemond.

“We were just talking, as people often do-” quipped Aegon.

“-Is that what you tell yourself when you fuck your whores?” asked Aemond.

“I’m allowed my indulgences” argued Aegon.

“Yes, you are, but if you think I haven’t noticed that you only seem too summon them on the days that you spend time with my wife then your even stupider than you look”.

“I wasn’t aware that my little brother was so observant of his Kings activities” said Aegon.

“I know-“

“-Know what?” asked Aegon furrowing his brow.

“That you kissed my wife-the day Aegar was born” replied Aemond.

“She told you” exclaimed Aegon.

“Hm”

“When?” mused Aegon.

“Right after you left our chambers”.

Aegon thought about what Aemond had just told him and was himself amazed that he was still breathing, he felt for sure that if his brother had known about the kiss, then he would have beaten him to death with his bare hands, but here he was five years later and still alive-for now.

“Your probably wondering why I haven’t killed you for touching my wife when she was in a vulnerable state-“

“-I guess” muttered Aegon feeling slightly unnerved that his brother had known exactly what he was thinking.

“I decided that torturing you was a more fitting punishment”.

“T-Torture?” asked Aegon looking around wildly for the Kings Guard and only breathing a sigh of relief when he spotted them stationed just beyond the boundary of the gardens.

“Not literal torture, you are still the King and I’m not an idiot. I simply favour reminding you at every opportunity that Vaeryna is MINE”.

“What?” muttered Aegon.

“I love my wife, more than you could ever know. But I do so enjoy the look on your face when you see me kiss her or when you know that I’ve been inside her-“

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” muttered Aegon.

“Yes, you do, that little flash of jealousy in your eyes and that look of devastation-it’s quite the picture, you think you hide it well-but you don’t” replied Aemond.

“So, you what? Get a kick out of rubbing it my face, that you’ve got what I can’t have”.

“You could say that, but it’s not just Vaeryna that you desire, is it?”

“Fuck you” snapped Aegon.

“Yes, that’s what you want isn’t it, for me to fuck you as you fuck my wife”.

“Aemond, that’s enough-“ said Aegon sternly.

“-Why?” asked Aemond as he advanced on Aegon, like a predator upon his prey.

“Because you’ve made your point, I do not wish to continue whatever in the seven hells this is, we have company coming and I’m surprised your wife hasn’t come back to see what’s keeping you” said Aegon.

“Hm” muttered Aemond as he looked around cautiously before seizing Aegon by the collar.

“W-What are you doing?” asked Aegon, his hands pushing against Aemond’s chest.

Aemond moved a hand into Aegon’s hair and yanked it harshly, ignoring his brothers yelp of pain, he lowered his head, his lips hovering ever so slightly over Aegon’s who had ceased his struggling and gone very still.

“Brother” exclaimed Aegon.

“Stay away from my wife” whispered Aemond, his lips grazing Aegon’s as he spoke.

Then, Aemond pressed further until his lips were upon Aegon’s, the hand he had in his brothers cropped silver hair twisted more, earning him another yelp of pain.

The kiss was nothing like Aegon expected, it was harsh and brutal, steeped in his brothers festering anger.

Their tongues briefly touched before Aemond pulled away, resting his pale forehead upon his brothers.

“Now that is the only taste of me you will ever get” snarled Aemond.

Aemond quickly released Aegon and pushed him away, his brother stumbling over his own feet before he righted himself.

“Where have you been?” asked Vaeryna shuddering as Aemond leaned forward and ran his nose up her cheek.

“Dealing with the King” replied Aemond as he took his wife’s face in his hands and gently kissed her, his tongue slowly moving against hers.

“Dare I ask” muttered Vaeryna softly as Aemond began peppering kisses along her jaw and neck.

Aemond smirked as he moved his mouth to Vaeryna’s ear and told her what he’d done, his hot breath tickled her ear as he spoke in whispering tones.

“-And I didn’t get to see it” tutted Vaeryna.

“Is my sweet wife jealous?” asked Aemond.

“Possibly” replied Vaeryna.

“How can I make it up to you, my love?” mused Aemond as he tucked a stray silver curl behind Vaeryna’s ear.

“I’m sure your cock will suffice” whispered Vaeryna.

“I shall endeavour to thoroughly satisfy all of your desires Issa nēdenka zaldrīzes” said Aemond (My fierce dragon).

“Nyke jāhor ōregon ao naejot bona kivio valzȳrys” muttered Vaeryna (I will hold you to that promise husband).

“What’s taking them so long?” asked Aegon as he came to a stop beside Vaeryna.

“You took your sweet arse time getting here” replied Vaeryna.

“Got distracted by something” muttered Aegon.

“By someone you mean-don’t give me that look, I know all about it”.

“Vaeryna I’m-“ exclaimed Aegon.

“What? Sorry-don’t be, I’m just sorry that I missed it” said Vaeryna.

“You’re not angry?” mused Aegon.

“Not at all” said Vaeryna shrugging.

“It will never happen again” snarked Aemond as he took Vaeryna’s hand and pulled her away from Aegon.

Eventually a carriage arrived and as soon as the door, Aemond, Aegon and Vaeryna were set upon by the children that could walk.

Choruses of ‘Grandsire and Grandma’ echoed through the air.

“Oh, my look at you” cooed Vaeryna she spotted Jacaerys in Dany’s arms.

“He’s a bit grouchy-his teeth are coming through” replied Daenerys.

“Poor byka zaldrīzes” said Vaeryna as she took Jace in her arms and held him close (Little Dragon).

"Gramma we flew" squealed Elaena.

"I know-was it fun?" asked Vaeryna.

"Yes-we went in the clouds" exclaimed Daemon.

"Mama said we will fly when we get older" said Maekar excitedly.

"She's right you will" replied Vaeryna.

“Is everything ok sister?” asked Aegon the Younger.

“It’s fine, why do you ask” mused Vaeryna.

“Your husband keeps glaring at the King”.

“Oh that-it’s probably for the best that you don’t know” whispered Vaeryna.

 “So, Aeg-how’s Vermithor?” asked Aegon curiously.

“Bit grumpy, but otherwise he’s fine”.

“Well done on the claim by the way, I’m impressed” said Aegon.

“Thank you. Your Grace”

"I told him when the time was right, he would fly again" said Jaehaera brightly.

“Right are we going to stand out here all day or shall we go inside?” said Rhaegar.

“Easy now my love” said Jaehaera.

“Let us go inside, we have much to discuss” said Aegon as he hauled Daenys into his arms and turned towards the Red Keep.

“He seems on edge” muttered Daenerys.

“My father’s just feeling out of sorts because Aemond kissed him” said Jaehaera.

“Wait-what?” exclaimed Aegon the Younger and Rhaegar in unison.

“Oh shit” muttered Vaeryna as she handed Jace back to Daenerys.

“How did you know?” asked Aemond.

“Saw it in a dream” said Jaehaera in a sing song voice.

Aemond didn’t respond, he simply smiled at his niece, as for the briefest of seconds she reminded him of his sweet sister Helaena.

Gods, he missed her, and how she would sing quietly as she collected butterflies and other bugs from the gardens.

“You cheated on mother” snapped Rhaegar as he rounded on his father.

“What does cheat mean?” asked Aemon looking up at his father.

“I’ll take the children inside-“ said Daenerys.

“-Allow me to assist you” muttered Aegon the Younger as he quickly lifted Daenys away from the King.

Suddenly there was an urgent flurry of activity and then only Vaeryna, Aemond, Aegon, Rhaegar and Jaehaera were left standing in the entry way to the Red Keep.

“Well, this is awkward” muttered Vaeryna.

“Tell me that you haven’t been cheating on my mother by having sex with your brother-I cannot believe I just said that“

"Targaryen customs, we've always been an odd bunch-" whispered Vaeryna thoughtfully.

“-I’m so sorry I did not mean” exclaimed Jaehaera.

“It’s ok” said Vaeryna softly as she took her good daughters hand and held it gently.

“I’m not cheating on your mother” quipped Aemond frowning.

“Jae said you kissed Aegon”.

“Well-technically I did, but it didn’t mean anything” replied Aemond glaring at Aegon who began shuffling his feet awkwardly.

“So, you kiss someone who isn’t my mother and then claim it didn’t mean anything”.

“Rhaegar-son please calm down. I know it doesn’t sound good when you say that like that but believe me, your father didn’t cheat” said Vaeryna calmly.

“I kissed Vaeryna first” confessed Aegon.

“Wait-so Aegon kissed mother and then father kissed Aegon-“

“Yes, but it was five years ago when Aegon kissed me” said Vaeryna.

“I-I’m so confused right now” muttered Rhaegar.

“My father has been having some feelings for both your mother and father and he got a little bit carried away the day Aegar was born” said Jaehaera softly.

“Oh gods don’t tell me that Aegar is really-“ gasped Rhaegar.

“-Absolutely not, the boy is mine” raged Aemond.

“I haven’t been with anyone but your father” said Vaeryna as she released Jaehaera’s hand and took Aemond’s face in her hands, her thumb stroking his scarred cheek.

“ābrazȳrys” muttered Aemond (Wife).

“My love-it’s ok” whispered Vaeryna as she leaned into Aemond and sighed.

“I’m to blame, I see what your mother and father have and I guess somewhere along the way the lines got blurred and I caught feelings-I kissed Vaeryna because I got lost in the moment and as for Aemond-“

“-I had my reasons” replied Aemond.

“Such as?” asked Rhaegar.

“My own personal form of payback” said Aemond firmly.

“Look, can we just let this go” urged Vaeryna.

“An excellent suggestion, let us go inside” said Aemond firmly.

“M-Mother-wait” said Rhaegar, clutching her hand.

“You go inside, we’ll catch up”.

Aemond pressed a quick kiss to his wife’s lips before he followed Jaehaera and Aegon inside.

“What’s wrong sweet boy?” asked Vaeryna.

“Y-You’re not in some kind of threesome with uncle Aegon and father are you-because if you are, and as long as your happy then-” asked Rhaegar quietly.

“I’m not having a threesome with your father and Aegon-I mean maybe if we were a bit younger and your father wasn’t so possessive, it might have happened, but I can assure you Issa byka perzys that the three of us are not a thing” replied Vaeryna (My little fire).

“S-So you still love father?”

“Of course, I do, what’s brought all this on?” exclaimed Vaeryna.

“I just worry about you that’s all. I want you to be happy. I love you mother”.

“-And I love you too” replied Vaeryna.

“As you are all aware, I summoned you here for a reason, so here goes-As King I think it’s important that the future of the Iron Throne is secured, upon my death Rhaegar will be crowned King with Jaehaera as his Queen, naturally as he is their first born son Aemon will be the heir, and one day he will need a wife to rule alongside him, to save arguments and pointless petitions, I wish to propose a betrothal between Aemon and Daenys” said Aegon.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea” said Jaehaera.

“I agree” nodded Daenerys.

“Well then, let us toast to the betrothal of Aemon and Daenys” said Aegon smiling.

“Aemon and Daenys” came a chorus of voices and raised cups.

“No other announcements?” asked Rhaegar as he looked at Jaehaeryn and Vharla, who were deep in conversation.

“Not yet, upon their marriage they were told to wait until Vharla turned six and ten before they try for a child” replied Vaeryna.

“Can you imagine how many grandchildren your going to have” laughed Daenerys.

“Oh, gods don’t” exclaimed Aemond smirking.

“Well, you did have a lot of children” said Aegon the Younger.

“Yes, and my good daughter once told me I would only have seven, one for each of the gods, but I birthed eight” mused Vaeryna.

“You did have one for each of the gods, as for the eighth-isn’t that what you call my uncle Aemond” muttered Jaehaera smiling as everyone at the table turned to her, their mouths hanging open in shock.

“Perhaps information of that nature should be kept behind closed doors” said Rhaegar shivering slightly.

“Why? You like it when I call you-“

“-Well, that’s enough of that” laughed Rhaegar as he filled Jaehaera’s cup with more wine.

As the feast progressed more tributes were made, and more wine was drank. Talk of other betrothals were discussed and the future of House Targaryen looked brighter than ever.

Then Aemond rose from his seat with his cup in hand.

“Final tribute-to my wife Vaeryna. My Idañnykeā perzys, you have blessed me in more ways than one, you gave me light where there was only darkness, you became my companion when all I knew was solitude and you have loved me even though I know there were times when I didn’t deserve it. I raise my cup to you my love” said Aemond smiling. (Twin flame).

Vaeryna’s cheeks turned pink as everyone raised their cup in her name and Aemond looked thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Was my tribute well recieved?"

"It was husband, much better than the one you delivered all those years ago" replied Vaeryna.

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that, it was after all a very Strong tribute"

“You just wait until were alone” muttered Vaeryna.

“-And what are you going to do to me sweet wife?” mused Aemond.

“You’ll just have to wait and see” replied Vaeryna softly as her husband simply smirked.

Vaeryna looked around the table at her family and smiled, after the losses during the war, she never thought she would have this again, but here she was surrounded by the people that she loved the most and despite all their struggles, they were a family of survivors.

The Dance of Dragons had almost destroyed the Targaryen dynasty, but now they would flourish and live on for generations. A Targaryen was seated upon on the Iron Throne as they were always meant to be, and the dragons would rule the skies for generations to come.

No lion or stag would ever oppose them.

Jaehaera looked up and smiled at Vaeryna and Aemond who were leaning into one another and laughing.

“-And from their blood, will come the Princess who was promised” whispered Jaehaera.

“Everything ok?” asked Rhaegar cocking his head to the side.

“It will be” replied Jaehaera softly, she leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment and for the briefest of seconds, she saw her again.

A beautiful silver haired dragon, the crown of the conqueror upon her head as she sat the Iron Throne with Dark Sister in her grasp, named in honour of her ancestor.

‘Queen Daenerys Targaryen’

THE END.

[rosewaterandivy]

iii. drank dry the river lethe

summary: It’s the kindness that undoes you, the mercy in spite of everything that has happened and is happening still. 

pairing: s.h. x witch!reader

w.c.: 2.2k

warnings: my blog is 18+ MDNI; vague allusions to magic and the like, carpenter & flannel-wearing Steve, sexual tension, some kissin' and good ol' yearning.

a/n: woof 😮‍💨 thanks for sticking around and waiting for this one! self-edited, all mistakes are my own. shout-out to the fic playlist (linked below) for getting me through this. i'm wishing the happiest of birthdays to @big-ope-vibes - love you & hope you don’t hate me too much for this 🥺

Nota bene: Reblogging, commenting, and liking my work is always appreciated! Reposting, however, is not. Enjoy! 💜

series masterlist | playlist | currently spinning:

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You gasp, his rough hands falling to cradle your hips. You can see puffs of breath as they leave your open, panting mouth. 

The storm rages on outside, a crisp chill settling in the shop and creeping along your skin. But Steve is warm and you can’t help but arch into him on instinct, seeking anything to ease the shiver in your bones.

He hums, as if in thought, eyes studying you— the heaving of your chest, jumping pulse, hands draped around his collar. Despite what you’d just said, your body language implies the opposite. Subtly, your hips cant upward, back arching imperceptibly as your chest grazes his. Erratic breaths fall from his lips.

“You think so?”

His voice is a low rasp, a lick of heat curls up your spine and you’re already having trouble breathing with any sense of regularity under his scrutiny. Because he’s doing that thing again— when he looks at you with such vulnerability that it nearly breaks your heart in two. People don’t look at you that way, it’s usually tinged with desire or derision but nothing so tender as how Steve is looking at you now.

Take a breath and concentrate on the rain. 

He watches as you screw your eyes shut and take big grasping breaths in and out. You think of those women who walked the bluestone path for love, how you pitied them, swore never to become them. Nothing good comes from a good heart or soft touch, oh no, not for you. Memories come like flashes of scattered light then— your mom and dad slow dancing in the kitchen, him serenading her and peppering her face with kisses, her laughter and poor attempts to bat him away.

Not since then had you felt like this— a tightness inside your throat and belly and chest, a heat, not unpleasant so much as wholly unfamiliar, radiating outward from the center of your body and rushing through your veins.

Something was very wrong indeed.

No longer balanced by logic, you feel weightless anchored solely by the warm and calloused hands of the carpenter. Thinking about him, his worried look, and sincere gaze makes you even more nervous. You feel like someone who’s stepped outside of life and into a stretch of woods you’d never seen before and you don’t know the paths or trails.

You’d spent your entire life following one cardinal rule: don’t fall in love— you’d stayed vigilant, used logic and good sense. Taken every precaution, taken care of everything from the bills to the laundry, which, when it hangs on the line is whiter than snow.

But the way Steve is looking at you, so patient and tender, you love it and hate it at the same time. Makes you want to come clean and let loose for once. Your eyes dart to his tongue as he wets his lips, a line of heat skittering beneath your skin. It’s invisible, but it’s there. That’s how desire is, it assails you in a parking lot and wins every time.

The tension is so bad that it feels as though it were at least a hundred degrees inside the shop. Your hands fall from his shoulders to his chest, a poor attempt to curb your desires. In the descent, your nail drags against a thin gold chain around his neck leaving whispery scores that draw along his skin and pull a soft hiss from him. 

Steve sounds positively wrecked and looks even more shattered now than before. You’re the one, and he knows it. Under certain circumstances, he might be willing to give up everything for you. He might be willing to leap headlong into the chasm he feels coming up, without considering how fast he’s falling or how brutal the moment of impact might be. 

Tentatively, you reach out to comb his hair back from where it’d fallen in his face, hot right down to your fingertips. Steve’s staring at you the way he did back in the storeroom, you can feel his intentions and torment both, in equal measure; you’re well aware of what he wants.

You want it as well.

Tonight under your gaze with the whipping wind and rain outside, Steve feels like he’s stumbled into love, and now he’s stuck here in the anguish of it. He’s fairly used to not getting what he wants, and he’s dealt with it, but he can’t help but wonder if that’s only because he didn’t want anything badly enough.

Well, he does now.

In the darkest depths of his memory, the recollections that tortured him under a nightmarish guise, Steve remembers holding on for something. Be it the kids, or Robin, or Nance— a bone-weary sense of survival; to pull and thrash and fight for another day, getting Dustin out of there in one piece, and dragging Eddie out of the Upside Down, even though he felt about ready to give up and give in right then and there.

And now, looking at you in a shop a world away from the hell that was Hawkins and the Upside Down, it all falls into place. He wasn’t holding out for something, but someone. Steve knows he should go, has crossed one too many boundaries for comfort tonight, but the hitch is, he doesn’t want to go. He’d rather be here, looking at you bathed in candlelight and watching the steady rise and fall of your breaths than weather another storm alone— his desire is so bad he doesn’t know if he could stand up straight.

His eyes are burning hot, and he knows he can never stop himself if he’s going to cry. Better to not even try, or at least that’s what Rob always says.

“Oh, don’t,” You say, moving closer to him pulled by gravity and forces you couldn’t begin to control.

“It’s fine,” He sniffs as the tears trail down his cheeks, “I just do this sometimes,” Steve says in that sad, deep voice. He shakes his head, like he can’t believe this is his life. This time he’d prefer to do almost anything but cry. “Ignore me.”

But you don’t. You can’t help yourself. Shifting toward him, meaning to wipe away at his tears, but instead loop your arms around his neck, and once you do that, he holds you closer.

It’s music when he says your name, a sound that’s absurdly beautiful in his mouth, but you don’t pay attention. You’ve spent enough time on the back stairs of the aunt’s house to know that most things men say are lies. Don’t listen, you tell yourself. None of it’s true and none of it matters, because Steve’s whispering that he’s been looking for you forever.

Everything happens in sweet slow motion from there.

You’re halfway to climbing him like a tree, scrambling for purchase along his arms and chest. His hands move from your hips and a breathy whimper escapes your throat. Steve mollifies your fit of pique with a bite to his lip, pulling it taut as his hands wrap around your thighs to pick you up. Your hips slide home, pressing against him as he carries you to the till— his hands are so hot on your skin you can’t believe it. 

Can’t think, or listen to a word he says because if you do, you might think better of it. 

He sets you down gently on the wooden counter, hands roaming your skin— under your sweater, along the band of your leggings— and still you don’t stop him. When his lips finally meet yours, you bite him accidentally, so eager and impatient. He laughs into your mouth, angling your lips up to slant against his. Your eyes flutter shut and let his kiss devour you, the clacking of teeth, brushes of tongues, and guttural groans.

This is what it must feel like to be crazy, you find yourself thinking, as Steve moves against you. Delirious under his attention, you want the heat he’s making you feel; you, who can’t function without directions and a map, want to get lost right now— to get lost in him. You can feel yourself giving into his fervent touches; you’re ready to do just about anything as long as his fingers keep pressing against you, stoking the fever in your veins.

Everything you’re doing is so unlike your usual self that when you catch sight of your image in the a nearby window you’re stunned. It’s a woman who could fall in love if she let herself, a woman who doesn’t stop Steve when he lifts your hair up and away so he can press his mouth to hollow of your throat.

Out of the corner of your eye, there’s a flicker, and you can see your reflection raise a brow in interest. She inclines her head minutely as if to ask, Really? while crossing her arms in front of her chest.

What? You mouth back, trying desperately to fall back into the reality of Steve’s sweltering hold on your body, the praises that fall like raindrops from his mouth only to evaporate upon hitting your scorched skin.

What is wrong with you? Your mirror-self volleys back, all knowing glances and quirked lips.

Beyond flustered and frustrated you bite back with a vehement, I don’t know! 

And as quickly as she appeared, your mirror-self is gone with a flicker and a wave. Maybe that’s something to consider, what exactly are you doing here? What good would it do for you to get involved with someone like Steve—to break the one rule you had? You’d have to feel like this, half-wild and at the whims of your desires, all of the time. You’d have to feel so much, and you’re not that kind, not really. You could never muster an ounce of sympathy for those miserable, irrational women who came to the aunt’s backdoor, nor could you stand to be one of them now, overrun with grief, rendered inconsolable with what some would call love.

You pull away from Steve, out of breath, mouth hot and the rest of you burning. You’ve managed to exist this long without; you can keeping doing it. Just make yourself go cold, from the inside out. The rain is letting up now, the sky as dark as a moonless night. In the east, thunder sounds as the storm moves in from the sea. 

“We should stop,” You bring yourself to say, though it cleaves something deep inside of you.

Steve halts his ministrations, and the wounded look on his face is worse than the fissure in your chest. The words taste bitter and cruel, but you can’t allow yourself to care. You need to put a stop to this before the option is no longer your own. Before the possibility of what you could feel for him takes hold and traps you, like those women on the bluestone path at twilight.

“This was a mistake.”

His lips form your name, a hoarse murmur followed by a grim smile. “I can fix it,” He says, seeing how you tuck yourself away, bit by bit, right before his very eyes. “Please, let me fix it,” He pleads, voice strained.

A slow shake of your head to dash his hopes once and for all, “You should go.” Your voice sounds like a broken, hollow thing.

At this moment, Steve wishes he was a weaker man— that he could somehow reach out and grab the part of you that he’d briefly held in his hands, and force you, at least until you gave in. Because it was there, he felt it and you did too, that ineffable spark of recognition. He’d like to make love to you right here, he’d like to do it all night and not give a damn about anything else. But he’s not that kind of man, and he never will be. He’s seen too many lives go wrong when a man allows himself to be led around by his dick. Steve has always understood why people give in and do as they please with no thought of anyone else. Their minds shut off, and he’s not going to do that, even if it means he won’t get what he really wants.

He sighs your name, and it causes you more anguish than you could have ever imagined possible. It’s the kindness that undoes you, the mercy in spite of everything that has happened and is happening still. 

But Steve, for all his wanting and heartache, stands up and takes a step back. You make yourself look over his shoulder and keep your gaze there; you don’t dare look at him. 

“Eddie will, uh, finish the job.”

You clench your hands into the worn wood beneath you and nod. 

Steve gathers his tools and sets them on the counter for Eddie to find tomorrow. And even if you don’t look, you know he hasn’t yet walked away. This is the way is has to be— removed forever, distant as the stars, unhurt and untouched forever and ever. He closes the door when he leaves and it takes everything in you to not turn to see, because if you did, you’d discover how much you want him, for all the good it would ever do you.

But he does watch you as he gets back into the cab of his truck out in front of the shop. Steve combs his wet hair back with his fingers and, for a moment, the whole cab smells like rain. As best as he can understand it, the greatest portion of grief is the one you dish out for yourself, and the both of you have served yourselves from the same table tonight, the only difference being that he knows what he’s missing, and you have no idea what’s causing you to cry as you sit in the cold and empty dark.

[thebisexualdogdad]

Memorable

Jason Todd x GN!reader (no pronouns used but male leaning) - Oliver stark used as fancast

Jason was great at first dates, he knew exactly how to seduce someone into getting them in his bed and he certainly always gave them a night to remember.

You were already making out as you stumble through the doorway, jackets hitting the floor and fumbling to get shoes off as quickly as possible.

He guides you to his couch as he's kissing down your neck, sitting down and pulling you into his lap.

You're grinding down into him, continuing to make out with his hands going to your ass, squeezing roughly.

"Should we take this to your room or are we gonna fuck right here on your couch," you ask breathing heavily.

"Slow down there handsome, we've got all night and I think you should get on your knees for me first," he says boldly with a confidence in his voice that turned you on so much.

"Oh I should?" You smirk, raising an eyebrow.

"I want to see how hot you look with my cock in your mouth," he states.

"Well I hope I don't disappoint," you say, sinking down to your knees in front of him.

He bites his lip as you slowly undo his belt, pulling it apart and playing with the buttons of his pants.

Jason lifts his shirt slightly to get it out of the way and you take the opportunity to kiss across his lower stomach.

With his pants finally open you run your fingertips over his boxers, his cock twitching at the gentle touch.

He groans when you kiss along the shaft over the material and he's now hard enough to strain against his boxers.

"No more teasing," he grunts growing impatient.

"I thought we had all night?" You joke, pulling his boxers down to let his massive cock spring free, "fuck you're big."

"Think you can take all of me?" He says as you slowly stroke him.

"Let's see why don't we," you grin, keeping eye contact as you lick his cock from base to tip.

He moans when you wrap your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around it.

"Damn, I was right you do look hot," he smiles, tangling his hand in your hair keeping your head in place.

You start bobbing your head, taking about three inches of him at first but you wanted to play with him so much to his displeasure your mouth disappears off of him.

"Tapping out already?" He jokes.

"No way, just thought your balls could use some attention," you chuckle, lifting his cock to expose his balls which you begin sucking on.

"Holy shit," he moans, spreading his legs further to give you more room.

You lick and suck on them, making obscene noises that sound like heaven to Jason.

You feel a drop of precum hit your cheek so you decide to return your attention to his cock, once again licking up his shaft and quickly taking a few inches of him in your mouth.

"That feels so good, keep going," he moans.

You take a few more inches, over halfway now and Jason tugs on your hair making you moan around his cock which he shivers at.

He's rolling his hips, causing the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat but you don't gag, Jason throwing his head back against the couch as you've taken him entirely now.

"I'm so close," he mutters, eyes screwed shut, your head bobbing even faster.

Your knees are starting to hurt but there's no way you are stopping now with the way Jason is moaning your name.

In less than another minute he's chanting your name as he shoots cum directly down your throat.

His grip on your hair is so tight as he cums, his thighs trembling as his orgasm hits him.

When his body stills his grip also loosens, allowing you to release his cock with a string of cum dribbling down the side which you happily lick up.

"God you were good at that," he chuckles, his cock going limp on his stomach.

"I've had plenty of practice, now how about we go to your room and you make me cum on the giant cock of yours."

"Give me a sec, I think you might have actually taken my breath away," he laughs.

You get up off the floor, removing your shirt and tossing it on the couch next to Jason.

"Don't make me wait too long," you wink, sauntering off towards his bedroom while he stares at your ass.

Usually Jason was the one to make nights like these memorable but damn were you giving him a run for his money.

As great as Jason was at first dates he typically didn't bother to go on second ones…. though you might just have to be the exception.

[trexrambling]

Broken Heels (III / III)

Request: “There's a protective Dean and Sam some kind of thing. They're friends with fem!reader, a shy and graceful girl. A long time ago the brothers took her in and a deep friendship was born. She only helps with research because she suffers from a heart failure, which leads to her being often dizzy nauseated and breathless. The brother care for her and always keep an eye out on her. Dean is secretly in love with her and vice versa. But neither of them admits it. One night Dean brings home some of his flings and the girl is really cruel to the reader.... Reader spirals into a rabbit hole, taking the things the bitch said to her to heart.... And shit hits the fan?! Some angst, drama and fluff, protective Winchesters.” - by anon

Word Count: 2,120

Warnings: language, negative self-talk, heated/arguing conversation, angst, fluff

A/N: I broke this request into two three parts because it ended up being much longer than expected. This last part took me forever to finish, still not sure I love how it turned out but here it is. No beta, all mistakes are mine, please message me if you see any! Watercolor heart from the header image credit.

(Read Part 1) (Read Part 2)

xxxxxxxxxx

You’re not really sure where he’s driving you, because it’s not back to the town you were hunting in, and it’s not towards home, either. It feels aimless, like he’s picking turns at random for the sake of the familiarness of being behind the wheel, like it’s the only thing that’s grounding him right now. The sun has made its venture into the sky, climbing with each passing minute and painting the wisps of clouds in orange and pink. The quiet in the car is becoming unbearable, the inevitable conversation that’s about to take place encroaching with each passing second.

You decide to just go for it, like that first jump into a cold pool. Just get it over with. It’s either that or tuck and roll out the passenger door. Though…the latter option might prove to be less painful when all is said and done.

“So…” you start quietly, “where’s Sam?”

“Oh, Sam’s still working on the case.” Every word is wrapped in frustration. His jaw is tight, fingers gripping the wheel with more force than necessary. You don’t have to check for a speed limit sign to know that he’s exceeding it.

“You left Sam?”

In a split second you find yourself almost relocated to the floorboards of the car, the lap belt cutting into your waist the only thing keeping you from sliding off the seat as Dean slams on the brakes. You manage to catch the upper half of your body weight with a hand on the dash, eyes wide as he veers off the side of the road and continues right on into the neighboring grassy field. The Impala’s wheels find a small rut, bumps in and out of it, the frame vibrating from the uneven ground. He goes a few more feet and then comes to a complete halt, throws the gears into park and shuts off the engine. You quickly undo the seatbelt to rub your stomach.

“Dean, what the hell-”

But he’s already opened his door and is exiting the vehicle, the loud slam of it shutting making you flinch. You watch him through the windshield as he walks a short distance into the field, then he stops and just stands there with his hands in his jacket pockets, his back to you.

You stay in your seat, staring at him, a bit stunned. You’ve known Dean for years, and in that time you’ve seen his rough edges, watched him dissolve into anger that would leave him unable to speak, observed his elated highs alongside the dismal lows. But you’ve never seen him like this… At least, not with you. Not because of you.

A steady breeze is blowing the tall, spring wildflowers around his legs, pushing small tufts of his hair in all directions. His stiff posture is a direct contrast to the serenity around him; a tranquil view from a distance that’s lacking all of its peace up close.

“Ah, screw it,” you mutter to yourself. You pop your door open and step out, the immediate onslaught of wind attacking your hair as you walk across the grass to stand beside him. You’re not really sure how you feel, not sure what to think. A short hour ago you’d been on a bus, trying to get as far away from him as possible. And now…

“Alright, spill. What’s going on with you?”

He turns sharply, fire in his eyes. “With me? What’s going on with me? Are you serious right now?”

He wants to pick a fight, to throw everything that’s built up out into the open, and part of you does, too. You fold your arms, meet his glare with a steady one of your own. “Yes, with you. How could you leave Sam to work a case by himself?”

Air snorts out of his nose in disbelief. “I left the case? Are we forgetting that you’re the one who just up and hopped a bus in the middle of the night? Without saying anything?”

“I texted Sam.”

“Oh, you texted Sam. Of course. My bad.”

You throw your hands up in the air in exasperation. “You literally just drove god knows how many miles and tried to run a bus off the road, and you’re acting like I’m the crazy one. I have every right to go wherever I damn well choose to. I’m not a child, Dean, I don’t need to get permission from you.”

“You didn’t even pick up your phone, Y/N. I’ve been calling you for hours, and I just kept getting your voicemail. What was I supposed to do, supposed to think? Since when do we not talk to each other? What the hell happened?”

His voice has progressively gotten louder with each question, and though he’s not quite yelling, the harshness has you blinking back an unanticipated bout of tears. Your mood shifts, the fight leaving you as doubt and dejection take its place.

Dean notices the change, and his eyes lose some of their sharpness. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck and lets out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I just don’t understand much of anything that’s been happening the past few hours. Why did you take off? Why did you just leave us like that?”

You wrap your arms tightly around your midsection, fixate on the grass beneath your feet, and manage to softly say -

“Do you… do you really not know?”

He doesn’t say anything, which is ten times worse than all of the worst possible things you’re imagining he could say. You gnaw on your lower lip, anxiety building with each second that he doesn’t speak. You can’t take it anymore, can’t take this, whatever this is. So, like a broken dam, you open your mouth and let it all flood out.

“I know that we’re not equals. I know I could never hold my own on a hunt with you. Hell, I proved that last month, didn’t I? And you deserve someone who can have your back, someone who can actually help you when the time comes. I know you guys say I help, but that’s different. It’s reading lore and making lasagna, and anyone can do that. And to top it all off, I’m an absolute mess. I cough up blood and I can’t walk a mile without feeling like I'm going to faint. I’m like this broken thing, this deadweight that you keep dragging along with you for some reason. And I don’t get it. I really don’t understand why I’m still here, because…because you don’t need me.”

He’s still not saying anything. You give in to the weakness in your knees and sink down onto the ground, tugging your jacket around you and staring out at the borderline of trees in the distance as your fingers absentmindedly pick at the surrounding grass and flower stems.

“And then I was waiting in your room for you to come back from the bar, and instead that woman showed up. And she was just-” you chuckle dryly- “so delightful, by the way. A real charmer. And you didn’t ask her to leave, so I left. I got out of your way. And I just… I couldn't stay, Dean. Don’t you get that?”

He joins you on the ground, close but not quite touching you. You dare to glance at him from the corner of your eye, surprised by the solemness his features carry.

“You don’t-” he clears his throat, digs his fingers into the dirt- “you don’t really want me, Y/N. Not the way you think you do.”

You turn your head sideways, rest your ear on your bent knee so you can look at him. He avoids your gaze, but keeps talking.

“That girl…she’s easy. Someone I can lie to when she asks me questions, that I can be a completely different person for. It’s just an escape, a night that doesn’t matter because I’ll never have to see her again, never have to think about her again, worry about her again.”

Your face tightens. “And you want that?”

“It’s been pointless to want anything else. To let myself want something else. This life…it’s not safe to let yourself get close to anyone.”

“Well…sometimes you can’t help it. Sometimes it just happens.”

He looks at you then, the right corner of his mouth turning up slightly. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, and then in one swift motion his arm goes up and around your shoulders, firmly scooping you into his side. You shuffle close and willingly lean in, resting your head in the crook of his neck. One of his hands stays wrapped around your arm, the other finding yours in your lap. A deep sigh leaves your body with the contact, the pent up tension you’d been carrying since last night dissolving with his touch.

“You’re the farthest thing from broken, you know,” he says softly. “And don’t you ever let me hear you say that we don’t need you. Sam and I are damn lucky to have you.”

“It doesn't always feel that way,” you whisper. “I still feel like I’m broken all the time. And not just because of my heart problems, but because of everything that’s happened to me, every mistake I’ve made, all the things I want to do, want to change… but I just can’t ever seem to get there.”

“I get that,” Dean says, giving you a small squeeze. “I’ve been there. But if I’ve learned anything, from Sam or Cas or anyone else in our lives, it’s that the broken heals. You just have to be willing to let it.”

You smile faintly, tilt your head up to look at him.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for chasing me down. Literally.”

He meets your eyes, his face serious. “I didn’t sleep with her, you know.”

Your blink, surprised. “Okay…why not?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, but doesn’t answer.

You squeeze his hand. “You know, you deserve to be with someone you can fully be yourself with. Someone you can talk to without having to fabricate your life, someone that actually gets it. And it may not be easier, but…I think it might be worth it.”

His features change then, and he’s suddenly looking at you in a way that takes you back to a flour filled kitchen, with mixing bowls and a pie waiting on the counter while he’s standing over you, your hand in his, heat and tension and a deep underlying desire filling the small space between. You swallow deeply, take in a shaky breath through your nose.

“Dean-”

His lips on yours cut you off, no hesitation as he tilts your chin up with his hand to draw your face closer. Warm fingertips trail down your cheek and then tangle in your hair as he gently pulls at your bottom lip. It’s a single, long, perfect kiss, and you can’t breathe properly, but you don’t really want to. He pulls away, kisses you lightly again, once, twice. And your head is spinning and your breathing is ragged and you can feel a goofy grin stretched wide across your face.

“You good?”

You nod, breathless, still smiling. You’re not sure if you can stop at this point. You’ve wanted this for the longest time, wanted him. And now that it’s happening, you still can’t believe that it’s real. It feels like a dream you never want to wake up from.

Dean releases his hold on you and stands up, snapping you from the moment. He stretches his hand out, a smile on his face. “Ready to go?”

You raise your eyebrows, still trying to collect yourself. “Go? Go where?”

Your smile fades, uncertainty underlying the pure flood of euphoria you’d just experienced. Were things already back to normal? Just like that? Did you imagine the last few minutes? Did the bus you were on crash, and you’re actually in a coma?

He’s smiling at you, waiting expectantly, and your face flushes from embarrassment. You grasp his hand, and he effortlessly pulls you to your feet. He doesn’t give you a chance to step away, though. He keeps a firm hold on your hand and tugs you back into him. Toe to toe, your chest flush against his, he cups the side of your face, erasing any of the doubt as he says -

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

And then he’s kissing you again, firmly holding you tight against him while he steals the breath from your lungs.

xxxxxxxxxx

Tags: @iprobablyshipit91​ @senjoritanana​ @amythyststorm33​ @morgiex​ @sushiumex​ @akshi8278​

^Thank you for reading! You guys and your feedback are the reason I kept writing this one :) 

[v-ternus]

Got Yourself in Trouble?

Some Swiss and mean t!Dew for your consumption on this fine day. (cunt/clit for Dew boy)

MDNI 18+ Explicit

Swiss teases Dew, gets him riled up. But his punishment isnt what he was hoping for.

tags: top Dew, trans Dew, bottom Swiss, crying, ruined orgasm, grinding, mentions of tentacle stuff, degradation, begging, angry sex?, choking, hand riding, mentions of oral and strap ons

*if you see a mistake, no you didnt.

“You’ve been a real fucking bitch this whole day you know that?” Oh Dew was pissed. Very pissed. He had snuck up behind Swiss outside of the ghoul den and grabbed him by an arm. 

“What are you talking about?” Swiss’ face was out of view with the way they were walking but Dew could hear the shit eating grin smeared across his face. The sly words only make Dew dig his claws in. 

Swiss had been a “real fucking bitch” all day. It had started with a sly text after breakfast when the pack had split up to do their chores. 

Try and finish early pretty boy, with a stupid winky face emoticon. 

Dew’s brain had started running off then, filling itself with thoughts of bending the multi ghoul over whatever was closest after dinner and filling him with his largest cock— Swiss really favored this teal colored behemoth Cirrus had bought as a joke. It had suction cups along the edge and his rim always deliciously stretched over each one as he worked it in. 

Dew walked around with a very wet pair of boxers then, slick coating his thighs.

At lunch, Swiss had wrestled himself up behind Dew while he did dishes, pinning the little ghoul between the sink and his broad chest. He added insult to injury by grinding his stiffy along the slight curve of Dew’s ass. His brain short circuited. Before he could react, Swiss had run out of the kitchen. 

Dew’s clit was throbbing, but he had to finish his chores. Sister had already ripped him a new one after he was slow with cleaning the chapel last week— skipping more chores to fuck himself silly and relieve the ache was not an option. The one thing that stood between him and sweet release was polishing some bronze chalices in the sacristy. 

To say Dew was angry would be a gross understatement— but that's exactly how Swiss wanted him. Angry sex was a fun treat, but an angry fucking from the horniest ghoul in the pack? It was an all night event and walking the next day was always a pain. Little did he know, today would be different. 

“What do you mean, What are you talking about?” Dew dragged him down the hall into a cramp supply closet and shoved him towards the wall. He hit the shelves hard, breaking one and knocking over some bottles. 

“Dont play dumb, it’ll be worse if you do.” He brings a hand down to palm at the growing bulge in Swiss’ pants. He feels him go slack between his warm body and the shelves. Swiss starts to pant as he digs his hand in a little harder.  

Dew peels his hand off of his aching groin, but before Swiss can complain, two hands work to undo his belt. A warm hand is shoved into his boxers, cupping his heavy cock. “Fuck Dew, feels so good,” He’s already breathless. 

“I'm sure it does slut.” Dew uses his free hand to wrap around the column of Swiss’s throat, squeezing down gently on the sides so he can watch his eyes flutter shut. Dew leans in, laying a soft kiss on his lips— a sharp contrast to what he’s about to do to Swiss. 

“You wanna be a whore so bad?” Swiss hums his acknowledgement, already too brain dead to realize what Dew was saying.

“Rut against my hand then, get it all messy,” 

“What? Dew no, please.” Dew squeezes his cock hard and Swiss’ face screws up tight. It wasn't some kinky handful that they fooled around with sometimes, it was a real crushing grip. It was a threat and it really fucking hurt. He tried to wiggle away from the assault but Dew pressed his arm out hard, pinning him against the shelves by his throat. 

“Listen,” He gives Swiss’ precious cock a tug. “And maybe I’ll be nice.” Dew could literally have him by the balls in a split second, it was in his (and his manhood’s) best interest to follow. 

Yes, ok. Im sorry. 

Dew frees his hand and lightly slaps his cheek, making it bloom a pretty shade of red before bringing it back to his neck. 

“Good boy. Now get started,” Swiss rolls his hips, dragging his cock against Dew’s, thankfully, loosened grip. It’s a maddening sensation. Dew is hot against him and he’s so desperate to finish, but they both know that it isnt enough. He tries to plant his hands for leverage, something he can use to push himself further into the fire ghoul. 

He wants Dew to wrap his spindly fingers around his cock, spit on it, get it unnecessarily wet. He wants Dew to get on his knees and milk him dry. But he’s quickly realizing that those endings arent in the cards for him today. His eyes screw shut and all he can do is hope for this to be over soon. 

Dew can feel him throb each time he shifts, he would be lying if he said it didnt make him drip out more slick. 

“Dew baby please, you know I cant do it.” Tears are pooling in the corners of his eyes, and Dew really wants to see them fall. 

“Try harder, hump it like a bitch in heat” He punctuates the harsh words with a squeeze of his fingers, cutting off the blood rushing to his dumb head. Swiss ruts faster, chasing the little friction he can find. Dew choking him makes things a bit better, gets him closer to the edge. But it still wasnt enough. 

“Cum like this or I leave you here,” Dew savored the panicked look when his eyes shot open. The tears hadn’t fallen yet, but he was sure the time was coming. A slurry of no’s poured out of the multi ghoul’s slack jaw. He tried apologizing, groveling, but his efforts were futile. 

“Can I kiss you? I need to touch, please Dew.” Dew answered the plea by smashing their lips together. Swiss mewled into his mouth when their fangs knocked against each other, but Dew muffled it by fucking his tongue in. It was filthy and wet. Swiss grabbed the hand at his crotch and pulled it in closer, needing the pressure. A steady stream of pre was weeping out of him and the slickness made it easier to ride Dew’s hand. His hips started stuttering and his movements were quickly bordering on clumsy. 

“Im almost there Dew,” He says it like its an accomplishment, like he’s proud of himself. Dew squeezes his throat again and cranks up the heat in his palm. Its not what he wanted, but its enough to make finish. Swiss feels the tension pooling in his gut, he feels his balls draw up tight and right as it all snaps, the warm hand is yanked out of his pants. 

The tears finally fall as he cums into nothing, as his load coats the insides of his boxers. 

“I knew you could do it,” He brings his hand up to Swiss’s face and mixes the pre along his tear coated cheeks, smearing it across his lips. He lets go of his neck and watches as the ghoul falls down the wall, pooling at his feet. Swiss gasped for air, shivering as his body worked through his ruined orgasm. He was still so hard, but he had nothing left to spurt out. 

“Clean yourself up for dinner. I'll finish you up later.” Dew is out of the door in the blink of an eye, he leaves Swiss to clean himself up. He had his own slick problem to deal with. 

Back in his room, he finished himself off to the thought of Swiss walking through the dorms with his sticky mess all over his face and drying cum along the insides of his boxers. 

[pccyouthleader]

Hedgehog Hodgepodge: A Story of Espionage, Confusion, and an Evil Plan Gone Haywire

Chapter 9: My Fair Sticksy

Shadow loathed the thought of going to see Sticks. She loved to talk, but he didn’t love to listen to her drone on about her inane conspiracy theories. The inner workings of her brain were enough to drive anyone mad. Therefore, Shadow thought it best to look around the woods of her house without disturbing her. Perhaps whatever she had found remained in its original location.

After dodging a cage trap, two pressure-plate crossbow traps, and a concealed pit, Shadow thought he had come upon the strange object in the woods. That is, until he found himself hanging upside-down by the foot. 

“DAMMIT!” he roared, sending flickies fleeing in every direction. He was attempting to undo the tight rope around his ankle when he heard laughter behind a nearby tree.

“That oughta teach you to go sneaking around other people’s houses uninvited!” Sticks declared, then began poking him with a stick. Shadow closed his eyes in frustration. I need information from her, he thought, trying to calm his temper.

“Chaos control!” Shadow disappeared from the snare and reappeared next to Sticks, making her jump. He took the opportunity to snatch the stick and hold it under her chin. She stared wide-eyed at his malicious grin.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him. “Don’t you know the Bartu tribesmen are on the brink of invasion?! And you’ve set off half of my traps!”

Shadow lowered the stick and rolled his eyes. With great restraint, he answered her question. “Aurora told me that you had found something out of the ordinary here in the woods near your home. I’m trying to figure out if the object is related to other strange findings in the village.”

“It’s not so much an object as a substance,” Sticks replied, gesturing for him to follow her. Every so often she’d tell him not to step in a certain area. She stopped at a nearby tree and pointed to its trunk. “See this? The stuff wasn’t here til a week ago!”

Shadow saw what looked like liquid metal smeared on the bark of the tree. It had the same pitch-black tone of the orb and trophy. But this fluid version had a barely visible streak of red in several of the splotches. He knew better than to touch it this time.

Shadow was beginning to formulate a theory in his mind, and he didn’t like it one bit.

—

Back at the lab, Tails had finished Aurora’s communicator. He and CC were now working very closely on the control panel of one of the planes he owned that had long been out of commission.

“Hold these pliers here and shine the flashlight here, please,” Tails said. His tongue touched the edge of his mouth as he worked. 

“Here?” CC asked. She was the best lab assistant anyone could ask for.

“Can you move it a little to the right?” replied Tails, turning a tiny screw as he spoke.

“I shall have to shift my position,” said CC. She carefully moved the pliers and flashlight closer, but the light reflected off the glass and blinded Tails. He dropped the tiny screw and banged his head on a gear shifter, sprawling on the floor of the plane.

“Are you okay?” asked CC. She tried to move over to help him up, but only managed to step on the screwdriver he had dropped. Losing her footing, her instruments went flying and she toppled right onto his chest.

“OOF!” The unexpected turn of events had his head reeling. But he was starting to feel better by the second.

CC looked into his eyes and repeated her question from on top of him. “Are you okay?”

“I am now,” Tails mumbled, smiling up at her. His hands moved up her arms and onto her back.

“Oh! I do believe you’ve activated my heat sensors!” she declared.

Tails was about to activate more than that when an urgent ringing emitted from his communicator. He reached into his lab coat pocket and rolled his eyes when he saw the caller’s identity.

“Hey, Shadow,” he said flatly.

“Tails! Have you run any tests on the material used to make that trophy?”

“No,” Tails replied, confused. “I’ve been working on this old plane that-“

“Do it!” Shadow interrupted. The urgency in his voice eased the annoyance Tails felt after being interrupted. 

“Okay, just let me get the control panel back on and-“

“NOW!” said Shadow, barely concealing his own annoyance.

“Geez, Shadow! What’s going on?!”

“I’m not sure yet. And I hope I’m wrong about my suspicion. Let me know as soon as you know anything. I’ll see you at 4:00.” 

“But-“ Tails began, but Shadow had already terminated the call. Tails looked at CC. “But I don’t even know what to look for. It could take days to run a full analysis!” 

“Then I guess we’d better get started,” CC sighed. Hopefully another opportunity for close contact with Tails would manifest sooner rather than later. Maybe at that antique iron show they were taking this very plane to next month! CC was looking forward to being around some old-fashioned metal. She still hadn’t completely gotten over Tails’ obvious need for his programmable coffee maker.

Maybe, she thought, smiling to herself.

[mkcannothelpyou]

Play Mittsy for Me (Kafka-Robin-Whisperain)

AK/Kinktober 2023, Day 4: “Mitts”

Barring a corridor fly-by with a half-asleep Medical op, the "Movie Night is Changing Venues after Whisperain Asked Can We Move This to Her Room" gang safely Moves It to Her Room, where both guests take a seat on the bed. Ooh, nice place here.

"Kafka," Robin hisses after a while of staring down at her lap and looking like she's shaking apart from the inside. "Quit looking at stuff."

"Where d'ya want me to put my eyes, then? A Kafka's gotta look somewhere," Kafka hisses right back, both keeping it low while Whisperain's in the bathroom undoing her harness.

"Just don't… I dunno, steal anything or something."

"C'mon, that's not the Kafka MO. Besides, what's gotcha watchin' out so hard? It ain't even your stuff."

"Yeah, but it's hers, so!"

Probably filled with nerves from not wanting any rudeness to the nice lady, Robin grabs both Kafka's hands and clasps her claws firmly shut around them. Kafka actively does not appreciate the gesture, alternately prising each forceful paw off while the other reestablishes a grip. "Yannow, it's gonna take more than that to—"

"You may want some assistance to keep her hands contained," preempts a gentle voice from the other side of the room. Kafka halts the grappling, looks over, Robin turns to follows suit. Whisperain's emerged from the bathroom with goodies in tow.

"Are, um, are those boxing gloves?" Robin asks, quickly following it up with "Uh, waitwaitwait, of course not. Um?"

Kafka simply chirps "Watch," shakes Robin off and scoots over some inches so Whisperain can get in close. "Ya sure you don't need these for a patient, Miss?"

"No," Whisperain affirms, softly but adamantly. "The sick should not be made to feel that their treatment comes hand in hand with disrespect—it would crush anyone to be taught that. There are other options in any scenario…" As she speaks, one mitten is affixed, buttoned and tested for a tight fit in moderation, followed by the other. "I assume you're familiar with these in a… recreational setting, Miss Kafka."

"Yeah, somethin' like that." Kafka gives an experimental flex of the fingers, free with a full range of motion inside the mittens but unable to project any grasp through the containment. "Saw 'em in a club once. Anyways, Kafka's happy to report she cannot get her funny li'l hands out."

"Oh, good…" Seems that's a genuine relief to Whisperain. "Well, then, Miss Robin, if you would care to test her?"

"Test? Her? Oh, uh, huh. Guess I could." It's kinda funny to watch Robin hop from confusion to conviction in the span of a few seconds.

Wait, that's not conviction Kafka likes. "Hands offa me."

"The whole freaking point was keeping my hands on you," Robin grumbles, quickly pushing her down by the mitts—okay, shoot, these stupid things are ACTUALLY restraining Kafka and the wrist's way too sturdy to pop the button. She's not getting her hands back in any good way here.

Whatever, still got the entire rest of her body! Kafka kicks and writhes and attempts a headbutt or two, tosses to and fro and even tries bouncing up on her momentum, then has to catch her breath a moment. She's quickly discovering this lockdown on her wrists is giving her no real freedom to bend any which way. Seriously, is two points pinned all Robin needs to get someone this bad?

"Quit… enjoyin' this!" Kafka's beginning to get irate herself. There's a crooked smirk growing on Robin's face, subtle, but it's there and it stinks of satisfaction. "Man, I woulda tried suckin' up to you tonight if I knew you were gonna get this vengeful!"

"Literally, I'm not doing anything, Kafka. You wanna just give up?"

"Aw, screw you and your bodyguard training!" Kafka wriggles a little more, but mittens down against the mattress and options gone, the best she's got is sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry.

"…"

A few silent seconds later, Robin sticks out her tongue back. "Okay, NOW I've got it out of my system. Thanks, Miss Whisperain," she says to the nice lady, clambering off.

"Of course. Are you alright, Miss Kafka?"

"Ugh." Kafka sits up mostly steady, although she feels like she almost has to dig her mitts out of Whisperain's bed. "Right as rain. Gonna be honest, that was intense, but I'm ready to get outta these already. We gonna put a thing on Robin next?"

"I imagine if we were taking turns, then it would be hers now," Whisperain chuckles.

"Oh, come on! …Okay, I guess fair's fair."

[makarovni]

WIP Wednesday!!!

Tagged by @corvosattano and @adelaidedrubman to share some WIP stuff!! Thank you!!

Last week I shared this snippet from Bianca's Nice Guys verse and since it's the only thing I've been able to work on for some reason, I'll share some stuff that occurs in the story before the snippet in the other post. If you guys wanna check it out that's cool but if not it's cool too!!

TW for kidnapping and allusions to abuse. Once more, the villains' names are redacted bc I want it to be a mystery for when I actually post it.

Luck shines on her as light shines on one door in particular, the placard reading "office" glinting in the small amount of light that fills the hall. Of course, there's a catch– it's locked. Bianca considers just unscrewing the hinges to get inside, but is a risk that big really worth it? What if there's no phone? What if one of them catches her? What if…

"No," she hisses at herself, bending down to the door's lower hinge, "no more "What ifs." You're going to get out of here."

As she undoes the hinges' fasteners, as quickly as she can, Bianca occasionally peeks over her shoulder or leans her ear a certain way, hoping nobody hears her. She moves up to the top hinges with a sigh of brief relief, and does the same to it, undoing those screws at record speeds.

"I should be in a fucking NASCAR pit crew," Bianca whispers to herself, shifting the door so she can get behind it then push it back into place, so it looks untouched to the unaware. Sure, screws are scattered on the floor now, but [Bianca's abuser] and his ilk wouldn't notice.

Thankfully, the room is what it says on the door– an office. An oddly pristine one, at that. A fine wooden desk with a typewriter on it, a bottle of whiskey and two glasses beside it. The chair is dusty, but made of authentic leather. Unlike most of the warehouse, the room is actually carpeted, and there's wallpaper up. This office looks so out of place, Bianca almost feels like she's transported somewhere else– it feels safe.

And, as luck would have it, there's a phone on another desk in the room. Bianca's breath catches in her throat and she runs over, dials Holland's office number, and waits.

And waits.

"Hello?"

Bianca exhales with relief. "Holy shit, Holly. Look, it's Bianca. You need to get your dad, or Healy, or both, and let me talk to them. I'm in a lot of trouble."

"Oh my god," Holly replies, "they're out looking for you right now. Where are you?"

She begins to cry, involuntarily letting tears drip down her face. "Fuck…you know [Bianca's abuser], from the case? He and the other two jumped me and brought me to [Bianca's abuser's] fucked up military bunker warehouse…the address is in the files. Your dad should have it."

"Well, they went to look for you at your apartment, but I have the files here," Holly says, and the sound of a cabinet being dug through can be heard on the other end. "I have it here! I'll call your house and tell them where you're at, and we'll come get you. Don't worry."

"They need to be armed," Bianca says, rolling the screwdriver in her hand. "These guys are planning on killing, and I want us to have the advantage. Tell them to be armed, and send them my way. You sit tight, okay, Holly?"

"No, I'm coming with them!" Holly proclaims. "I'm not going to sit around while you potentially get hurt!"

Bianca sighs heavily. "Holly, no. They…they did the things they did to me when I was your age. And they've done it other times. You're not safe. Please, for me, stay at the office."

"But I–"

"Holly!" Bianca is choking back sobs now, hand tight around the screwdriver. "Holly, stay there. Please. Just tell your dad and Healy where I am and to be armed. Nothing more, nothing less. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah, I do. I'll do what you asked."

"Thank you," she sniffles. "Tell them to be careful. And listen…I know you don't want me with your dad, because I'm not your mom, and I was never trying to be your mom, I never will be her. But I love your dad more than anything, and I love you, Holly. Let that be known. I love you, sweetheart."

With that, Bianca hangs up and leans against the wall with her screwdriver held like a combat knife, ready to defend herself. She doesn't know where those men are, or if they know she's escaped, but for the time being, she's going to sit right there and wait on Holland and Healy.

[sonasnowdrop]

Chapter 23: Cycle breakers

-Break the cycle-

"W-what was that?!" Audrey gasped with bated breath.

Azael placed one foot onto the other, and looked down; ashamed that she hadn’t told Audrey sooner.

"Answer me! You knew about this?!" The artist demanded. She assumed the toon knew before, since she doesn’t seem in shock. Azael however kept her gaze on the floor.

"My god, I should’ve seen this coming. Makes perfect sense now." Audrey said, seemingly to herself. The artist turned her back to the angel and mumbled to herself. Azael looked up to speak.

"After what you told me. I should’ve assumed you both are the same." The artist unknowingly spat out bitterly before turning back to Azael, who took some steps back. The toon was seemingly hurt by the comment, the animator took notice and quickly retracted the statement.

"T-that’s not what I meant-" the artist stuttered, she had phrased that so wrong. Azaels brows furrowed as she stared at Audrey before looking at the floor again.

They both stood in silence for a minute.

"He can’t control it." The toon mumbled. Though, Audrey seemed to catch the angels comment. The animator wore a sad and regretful expression.

"I’m sorry, I should have told you before." Azael spat out, she tightened her grip onto her overalls before turning to Audrey, who clasped her hands before speaking.

"Hey it’s okay, let’s just…head inside. I’m sure Beebee is around somewhere." The artist smiled, before approaching the large doors. Azael stood in place for a second, staring at the place Bendy once stood. She wiped her face and sighed before following Audrey.

The two stood side by side, walking through the tight corridors. The artist glanced around nervously before spotting a tape. Azael tensed as the girl played the tape. It was quite depressing.

The next room was littered with deathbeds, corpses rotted beneath. Azael didn’t seem bothered, but Audrey failed to hold herself. She sniffed, imagining how horrible it had been before dying to the machine. The toon waved her on.

The next room required a code, Azael wandered into the next room before spotting the code. The angel shouted the numbers to Audrey as she punched the code in.

Audrey cheered before holding her hand out to the angel. Azael tilted her head in confusion.

"Oh uh, it’s a high five!" The artist explained awkwardly, she took the angels hand and bumped their palms together. Azael stared at her palm as the artist chuckled and proceeded forward, the toon followed close behind.

The room ahead was filled with monitors front, right and center. Azael halted but Audrey marched forward. The toon eventually followed the young animator. A sign above read,

UNSAFE AREA.

Before Audrey could comment on the sign, the monitors blared noise before a keeper filled the screen. The girls stepped back, the door shuts behind them as the keeper appears. Azael stood behind the animator, Audrey clenched her pipe.

"Anomaly detected." The keepers voice lagged and rasped, the sound caused both girls to flinch.

"New subject designation required. What are you? What is your purpose?" It continued to rasp, it seemed to only detect Audrey, luckily for Azael. The angel left the animators side to search for an exit, making sure to stay low.

"My name is Audrey! We’re not here to cause you any trouble. Look, I just wanna go home! Please, can you help me?" Audrey shouted but not demandingly, she just wanted to make sure the keeper could hear her.

Azael had spotted a vent and was in the middle of unscrewing the vents cover. The angel used her horn to steadily undo the screws one at a time as Audrey pointlessly tried to discuss with the keeper, it was stubborn and twisted each of Audrey’s words.

"Subject has been deemed hazardous. Toxic fumes activated." The keeper demanded. Just then, the monitors shut off.

"Wait, come back! Please!" Audrey pleaded, the fumes already intoxicating her lungs. The artist coughed before noticing her toon companion wasn’t by her, she frantically looked around.

"Audrey!" The angel coughed while shouting for her. The artist wasted no time dashing towards Azael, and busting the vent open. Quickly, the angel scrambled in, Audrey stumbled behind her. Both girls coughed from the fumes, but soon it died down as they crawled farther into the vent.

Azael halted, causing Audrey to stop aswell. From the vent opening the two girls watched as the keepers cords slid across the floors. Azael crawled ahead when it was out of side. Audrey followed her lead.

"Subject has had broken containment. Execute on sight. Lock down all access to the Cyclebreakers." The keepers lagged voice echoed throughout the vents.

"Reclaim the toon accompanying the subject, return it to its original prison upon capture." The keeper hissed. Azael scoffed and crawled faster.

Azael exited the vent, Audrey exited not long after. The two girls stood in the a large containment room. The angel remembers the roots of this area, since she’s been here when escaping.

Audrey glanced around in slight wonder, only moving when the angel dragged her along.

The ladies searched for an exit, Azael lead on while avoiding keepers.

The two had to force themselves into another cramped vent, Azael was used to it by now but Audrey groaned at the stench. So claustrophobic.

They both snuck into a boarded up room undetected. Audrey took a deep breath before glancing around. The angel spotted a tape and pressed play, only to be greeted by the scrapping laggy voice of a keeper.

The angel winced, but Audrey listened.

It spoke of the success in sedating the Ink Demon and Weeper. The toon growled and stepped away; refusing to listen.

Once the tape had finished. Azael was the first to leave, seemingly in a hurry. Audrey stumbled behind.

Again the ladies were forced into a vent. More and more keepers swarmed as they ventured.

Unexpectedly, the girls ran into a lost one. But this one seemed friendly, like Porter. She said her name was Heidi, Audrey giggled at the name.

The lost one offered to open the door ahead, if they’d play hide and seek. Azael insisted that Audrey denied, but really they had no choice.

The two girls counted to thirty before seeking out the lost one. Azael walked ahead with speed, the artist attempted to quicken her pace.

The ladies entered a large room. A large inky beast revealed itself not long after, it seemed to be harmless as it allowed Audrey to walk up close, just not too close since she wanted to respect it’s personal space.

The angel informed Audrey that this beasts name is “big steve” to which Audrey laughed. The creature blocked a doorway and didn’t seem to wanna move, so Audrey went elsewhere. Azael stayed down with the monster.

Audrey climbed a ladder and stumbled across another audio log, this one was much worst than the last. The artist felt relived that Azael wasn’t close enough to hear.

This tape spoke of the success in pushing both realm rulers into a small harmless form, and finding amusement in the toon’s cries.

The animators eyes watered upon hearing the keepers amusement in Bendys wails and cries but found it quite frustrating when Azael kept a straight face throughout the torture.

Audrey felt bad for the toons, how could anyone do this to such innocent beings? Her fists clenched, as the log continued.

"Audrey." The angels voice broke through Audreys mind, she turned her head to see the toon stand atop the ladder.

Azael quickly shut off the tape, and began dragging the artist along.

Did she hear? Was she reminded of the horrible torture?

Audrey couldn’t help but think. The artist halted, and pulled her hand away. Azael also stopped and turned around.

"I-I’m sorry they did that to you." The artist stuttered, the angel waved her off; like always.

"No, really! I am! You nor Bendy ever deserved such treatment." Audrey continued, Azael stared up at her with an all to memorable blank stare.

"It’s okay, Audrey. Not your fault." Azael mumbled, the artist kneeled down and wrapped her arms around the toon. Much to Azael’s surprise. She hesitated before wrapping her arms around Audrey.

"I’ll keep you safe." Audrey said.

"You don’t have you." The angel replied.

"But I want to!" The artist interjected.

Azael could feel herself slightly tremble in the animators grip.

Why does this feel…so familiar?

The angel thought, she could feel her eyes…water.

She tightened her grip around Audrey, and sniffed. But eventually pulled away, shoving her emotions back into a bottle.

"You…can let it out you know? I cry too, I won’t judge." Audrey reassured Azael. she shook her head. Crying does nothing, it never did. Especially not in this wretched world, Azael learnt that rather quickly.

Audrey gave a smile before patting Azael’s head and standing up. The angel huffed and walked on without Audrey.

Soon enough, the two had located Heidi; who was behind a few boxes. Audrey called out once she had found the lost one.

The lost one clapped her hands and stood up.

"Oh! You did it! You found me! Oh, this is so exciting, you both are so brilliant!" Heidi cheered and continued to clap as she stood. The lost one reached out for Azael and patted her head. Unfortunately, the toon didn’t react fast enough to move out the way.

"Now can you open the door for us?" Audrey asked while smiling. She noticed the girl had moved her hand down to the toons chin; giving it a scratch. The artist snickered as the toons foot silently thumped against the wooden floor.

"Oh, yes the door. I think you’ll find it’s open now." Heidi said to Audrey, and removed her hand from under the toons chin. Azaels eyes flew open and she looked around like if she had forgotten where she was. Audrey again, giggled at the toon.

"Oh! And also, allow me give you both a little something! Something special, just a small reminder of our game together…" Heidi said before reaching to Audrey, the lost one also reached her hand for the toon to hold. She did so.

Both girls felt a power transfer to them, a wave of energy. Once the lost one pulled away, she giggled before sinking into a puddle.

The two ladies turned to each other. Guess they could flow through puddles now, cool. Well, Azael could already do that, but it seems she could travel farther now.

They both made their way towards the door Heidi had opened. The girls walked into a hallway, Azael stayed behind this time.

An automated voiced broke the the silence.

"Decontamination activated." The voice hissed, both girls were sprayed with fumes.

At least they weren’t toxic this time.

Azael sneezed as the fumes hit her face.

"Have a nice day." The voice hissed again before shutting off. The door before them opened. The next room was yet another giant containment room it seemed.

There were windows that covered shudders, preventing them to see inside the cells. Out of curiosity, the artist pulled a lever next to it and the cell shudders opened.

It revealed a toon Boris sitting by himself, strumming a banjo. He was surrounded by candles and a pentagram. A bendy masked lied not too far away. A lost one with yellow scars across their body accompanied the Boris.

Azael tugged on the animator, advising that she’d leave these…people alone.

Audrey was curious however, this was another toon, and possibly a friendly lost one. At least that’s what it seemed like. The artist knocked on the glass. The angel ducked into a blind spot.

Only the Boris toon’s head turned to Audrey, revealing his face melted, and his skull very visible.

The animator gasped at his state. Before she could even get a word out, he scoffed upon seeing her and returned to his banjo. The lost one covered in scars seemed to acknowledge Audrey, but completely waved her off.

Okay…rude.

The artist thought, Azael wandered along without her. It wasn’t a problem, this place wasn’t that big. The angel could find her way back to Audrey.

The artist made her way to another cell, this time she saw another toon. The toon had her back faced to Audrey. A halo sat atop the toons head.

Feeling more lucky with this one, Audrey knocked on the glass. The angel turned to her, with a familiar face.

"Alice?" Audrey gasped, however the angel shook her head.

"The names Addison. Who are you?" The angel replied. Another Alice? How many were there?

"Audrey." The woman answered. The toon looked so tired, but relived that the artist was friendly.

"What are you doing in there?" Audrey inquired.

"Ah, it’s along story. I’d rather not talk about it." The Alice clone sighed, the artist nodded.

"Can you um, help me?" The animator pleaded, the angel however shook her head.

"I’m not sure I can be as much help, but…he can." The angel pointed onward, Audrey turned to see another cell.

She thanked the angel and approached the other cell. She was met with a man drawing in a sketchbook.

"Um, excuse me? Sir? Can you…help me?" She asked, turning back to the angel; who waved her on.

The man turned his head a little before speaking.

"You must be really lost to be asking me for help." He said as he continued to draw. Audrey turned back to the angel again. Addison tapped with rhythm on the glass, causing the man to fully turn around and look at her.

"Um, I’m just looking for answers. About the keepers, Wilson, the cycle. Anything could help." Audrey continued, the man took his gaze off the Alice clone looked down at Audrey.

"What’s your name?" He asked.

"Audrey, and yours?" The artist answered and ended with another question.

A pause, Audrey shuffled her feet.

"Honestly, I’ve almost forgotten. My name is Henry." The man said, Audrey smiled. The name sounded so…familiar.

"Have you…been a prisoner for long?" The artist asked, hoping it wasn’t a sensitive topic.

"When the Keepers think you’re a threat to their plans, they lock you away, forever." He said, looking exhausted.

"Still, it’s given me some time to think. Things like: if you haven’t eaten in years you might not be human." He said, Audrey paused again before speaking.

"W-why would you be a threat to them?" She asked, pulling her thumb. Henry didn’t seem like the kind of person to cause havoc.

"Well, I’m what they call a Cyclebreaker. Once upon a time, I knew how to restart the cycle over." He explained, that must mean everyone is cells must be a Cyclebreaker of some sort.

"And when that happens, everything begins again. Completely new. Obviously, Wilson and the Keepers don’t want that to happen." He continued. That made sense.

"How did you do it?" The artist asked, perhaps she could reset and go home?

"Reset the cycle?" The man asked, Audrey nodded.

"Turns out the realm rulers themself are the keys. This world is theirs, but even they have to obey the rules. Well, for now at least." The man explained. Audrey didn’t like that idea. Searching for the Ink Demon? Not a good idea, Azael probably wouldn’t want to do that either. But she felt as if she had no choice.

"If you can get them to look at something very specific. It will reset everything." The man said, Audrey swallowed her discomfort and asked.

"What is it?"

"It’s just a reel of film, labeled with the words ‘The End’. I can see it in my mind, everyday. They keep it upstairs…in the pit." The man said, Audrey pondered to herself before saying something she thought she’d never.

"I’ll see if I can break in and steal it. Maybe, if I reset the cycle, we could make things better for everyone around here." She seemed hopeful in herself. The man seemed to smile at the thought.

"What about you?" The man asked.

"I just…wanna go home." The artist dropped her gaze to the floor and sighed. All she wanted was a damn coffee.

"So did I." The mans gaze also dropped to the floor. She felt so bad for him, how long has he been here? Surely, much longer than her.

"Good luck, Audrey. If you need me again, you know where to find me." He seemingly closed the conversation and returned to his drawings. Audrey left him to it.

"Good luck, Audrey! Be safe." The angel interjected, Audrey nodded.

The artist went around looking for her angel companion, the toon was sitting near a glassed projector. She stood upon seeing Audrey approaching her.

"Cmon, we gotta head to the little devil lounge. To grab some stuff before we continue." Audrey said, the toon nodded and followed close behind.

Chapter 22 / Chapter 24

[thirstyforlulu]

I couldn’t help myself, I kept thinking about this one

Content warnings: Dubcon, dirty talk, war

It was a grueling war, one you tried so hard to avoid, but no amount of diplomacy could have prevented it. Knowing your men were fighting hard on the battlefield was torture, but you had to stay behind and handle the political side of things.

Your general was a cocky bastard, granted he had the skills to back it up. Stories of his conquests frequently made it back to you, and you were so grateful that he was on your side.

One of your attendants stopped you as you were headed back to your room.

“Your majesty, the general would like to have a word with you,” He said.

You groaned, not wanting to deal with him today.

“Where is he?”

The attendant went silent and awkwardly fidgeted with his hands.

“He made his way into your room. He said he would speak with you there.”

You groaned even louder. Your general was a haughty bastard, and this was probably just another dramatic event to flaunt his power.

“Alright, I will go speak with him. Thank you for your hard work,” You thanked the attendant before heading to your room.

Just as you expected, you found Alucard lounging in your side chair as he mindlessly thumbed through some documents on your desk. He didn’t even look up when you entered the room.

“General, what an…. unexpected surprise,” You greeted.

“Yes, we have some important business to discuss,” He replied without even looking up.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

Alucard set the paper aside and stood up, approaching you in a predatory manner.

“The morale on the battlefield has been plummeting lately. The men are getting tired of fighting in such a long and grueling war,” He began.

“I understand, I am doing everything I can to placate things but in the meantime I can arrange for-“ You tried to respond, but he cut you off.

“See that’s a big part of the problem right there. Why should they fight for a king who won’t even get his hands dirty? And honestly,” He leaned in close. “I’m starting to agree with them.”

You froze. If Alucard were to leave your army, your kingdom would have no chance of winning the war. He was insulting you and your position, but you had no choice but to play nice for the sake of your people.

“What do you want?” You asked, eyes downcast.

“Oh? Suddenly you care about what I want?” He challenged you with a smirk.

“Whatever it takes to keep you on the battlefield,” You spoke lowly.

His grin grew.

“It’s about time you started to show some appreciation for the work I do, now, how about you thank me with one of your royal holes?”

You nearly choked on saliva at the sound of that.

“Excuse me?!”

Suddenly, he placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed down, causing you to collapse to your knees.

“If you want me to keep fighting for you, then suck my cock,” He commanded, undoing his pants and pulling out his thick member.

Your entire body shuddered in fear and arousal at the sight. You could hardly think straight.

“But… but..” You stammered.

“What? Is the king too good to suck off a peasant?” He interrupted.

“No, it’s just…. Shouldn’t you bathe first?”

He scoffed.

“I spend all day slaughtering men in your name and you can’t even suck one unwashed cock?”

Faced with that, you shut your mouth. For the sake of your kingdom and your people, you knew you had to do this. This man was the key to winning this war, and if he walked away, you were screwed, so you closed your eyes and opened your mouth.

He wasted no time slipping the tip of his cock into your open mouth. Instantly, the flavor hit your tastebuds and overwhelmed you. It wasn’t unpleasant, but you were certainly not used to it.

In typical pushy douchebag fashion, he started to thrust into your mouth, not allowing you any time to even try to pleasure him.

“Your mouth is so tight, your majesty. Tell me, is this your first time sucking cock?” He teased from above you.

Of course, you couldn’t answer him with all the meat in your mouth, so he continued to tease you.

“No it can’t be. I bet you use this mouth of yours to your advantage. I’m sure it helps a lot with your ‘diplomacy’.”

You tried to tune him out, but he refused to let you. He continued to insinuate dirty things as he fucked your throat. When he got close, you tried to pull back, but he grabbed the back of your head and pushed you back onto him.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re going to swallow my load as thanks for the countless hours I’ve spent on the battlefield for you.”

He groaned as he came, filling your throat with his warm seed. The amount overwhelmed you, but you focused and managed to get it all down. When he was done, he pulled out slowly, loving how sloppy your face looked.

He didn’t even wipe himself off before straightening his pants back up. While you sat there gasping for air, he watched with a sinister grin.

“Excellent work, my king. I will tell our troops that they serve a generous ruler who will happily reward their efforts, and those that try to abandon the fight, will be dealt with,” He promised.

You nodded, still winded.

He stepped past you and walked to the door.

“If I win this war your majesty, then I’ll be demanding your ass as payment.”

With that, he shut the door and left. Now that you were alone, you worked to catch your breath and stand. For some reason, you found yourself savoring the lingering taste of him on your tongue, and the thought of him taking you from behind after a successful battle made your legs tremble.

Perhaps, you wouldn’t mind having to repay him for his services.

Vladcard x Male!Reader au where you’re a king and Vladdy is your general/greatest warrior

One day he demands you show appreciation for all his hard work. Preferably with one of your royal holes