#or at least it’s slightly more coherent

[starlightseraph]

communism is when transgender operations on illegal aliens that are in prison

[aingeal98]

You would think that since Bruce and Cass's morals are so aligned I'd be rooting for Bruce in his confrontations against Jason but you'd be wrong. If it's Cass vs Jason I'm team Cass she has the moral high ground and I like her more. If it's Bruce vs Jason neither of them fully have the moral high ground even though technically Bruce and Cass's codes are quite similar. Because unlike Cass Bruce has been used as a mouthpiece by multiple right wing writers and also just plain bad writers to the point that you have to ignore a LOT to simplify his morals down to "Killing bad." Like yeah if Jason's going around murdering people I'm rooting for say, Cass or Dick to take him down. With lots of angst and challenging their codes and making sure everyone has a bad time. But Bruce is just such an asshole and yeah, bad person, in so many other ways. (You can ignore the comics where he's horrible if you want but they exist and there have been so, so many of them it's a consistent character trait post Jason's death. And it's never character assassinating him for anyone else, he's always presented as the Protagonist even when he's going through his edgy punch the kids moments. Which sucks but that's what DC chose.)

And also Jason was sacrificed for Bruce's pain and meant to just stay dead and smeared to let Bruce get the angst without the bad dad allegations so hell yeah son. Come back to life and torment your father. Be more than just a costume in a cave. Just get better comics and better fans because when you're not fighting Bruce you've been Lobdell's pet for so long that most casual readers associate you with his godawful writing right after the UTRH movie.

[sammygender]

the leviathans were ridiculous but that’s their worst crime and like. pretty much every spn big bad after s6 is ridiculous, at least the leviathans were fun. that if the seasons even HAVE a big bad. at least s7 felt like a coherent season which is something a lot of the seasons after didn’t manage so well

[forgaeven1]

GENERAL HIGH FANTASY VERSE *based on httyd setting

berk is a thriving viking village whose main professions are dragon-hunting, among other things.

ruffnut was born ranveig thorstondotter, the older twin sister to tuffnut. they are mainly called by their childhood nickname, which ruffnut prefers anyhow.

ruffnut is hailed from one of the first founding clan which discovered and built berk — they are responsible for scavenging and maintaining the availability of resources across generations — with the twins intending to one day inherit their father’s seat.

though women are held marginally higher in berk than the usual medieval tradition, allowing them to be warriors and upholding positions of power, ruff is still expected to marry as early as fourteen years old, and thus, all expectations of inheritance fell on tuffnut.

this does not deter ruff though, for she loves her brother, and knew that they would carry their family’s name as equal anyhow, even if she were one day to be wed to another.

ruffnut's first betrothed had been to hiccup* at the age of fourteen, on the account that they were the few eligible young people who were available at that time and house hofferson had refused the match between the son of the chief ( hiccup ) to their daughter, astrid, the only other young lady available on berk.

the engagement, of course, fell through — or rather, was never mentioned again, at the wake of hiccup's effort to integrate dragons into the daily lives of berk and his romantic entanglement with astrid later on.*

ruffnut will be one of the few to initially oppose hiccup’s revolutionary mission to bond with dragons, though she and her brother eventually quickly agrees, deeming the challenge to exciting to ignore.

ruffnut and her brother were eventually bonded with a hideous zippleback ( can be conjoined as per in the original franchise or a separate dragon altogether ) — with her own, named lovingly as barf, can breathe a large amount of green gas. this gas tends to confuse and disorient people [ with which the zippleback's other half, tuffnut's belch in this case, can ignite explosives with ], though the thorston twins eventually built a resistance towards the gas.

ruffnut then became apart of the first generation to study, explore, teach, and assist in the integration of dragon within berk, and on dragon's edge. she, alongside tuffnut, quickly rose to become one of the more important members of hiccup's councilmen as he rose as their chief. she will also hold a prominent role in the newly established league of dragon warriors of berk.

how to interact: in an effort to expand their influences and establish berk as a rising and powerful kingdom whose alliances can be useful, ruffnut ( along with others ) were often sent as a representative.

personality: ruffnut could be described as foul-mouthed, crass, mischievous but sharp-witted and far clever than she lets on. she is extremely protective of her brother, her dragon, and her clan, and incredibly proud of the skillset she's acquired regardless of the reputation people usually saddled her with. she will grow to be loyal to hiccup, though she maintains her harsh honesty and confrontational values even with berk's chief.

* indicates that details are not set in stone and can be adapted with respective writing partner(s).

ASOIAF AU * with more details possibly incoming / thanking dorian a ton as i haphazardly shape this au with the grace of a flightless pigeon

a blood of the old valyria, the thorstons was one of the more powerful family of dragonriders. their house sigil are two warhammer slung in the shape of an X, slithered around the hilt is the familiar shapes of a zippleback’s (a type of dragon species) head, with rich green and yellow being their main combination of colour.

during the doom of valyria, magmar thorston, his wife, and a brother, was in asshai conducting a trade. the destruction had led the remaining thorstons to eventually resettle on the hills of norvos, where they eventually establish a small clan in the mountainside.

sometime after the conquest, a hagelin thorston would come to re-establish a connection once more with the remaining descendants of old valyria, that being the targaryens, velaryons, and the celtigars. when the member of the thorston family refuses to kneel to a targaryen nor agree to marry one of their members into the house, the two houses eventually amicably part - though not without hagelin establishing a small seat in the mountains near deep den.

ranveig 'ruffnut' thorston is born in berk, on the mountains of norvos. she is a skilled warrior, a fearsome dragonrider ( the few in her clan who are left ), and a mischievous, but intuitive young lady. at the age of fifteen, ruffnut and her brother chose to leave their village in pursue of accumulating more knowledge to sate their never-ending curiosity.

her dragon is a narrow, long-necked dragon with green-scales of the zippleback species whom of which she named barf. this version of the zippleback is independent-bodied rather than conjoined, though it is always born in set of twos. instead of breathing fire, a zippleback makes explosions. ruff's own breathes a poisonous gas, while tuff ignites it with sparks, eventually producing the explosion it is famous for.

people who have interacted with the thorston twins would often describe them to be blundering and ill-mannered, though both possessing a keen intelligence rarely seen in an average person, let alone a mountain clansmen.

other details can / will be elaborated depending in which timeline ( whether got or hotd ) ruffnut will be thrown in.

[monstersflashlight]

Day 3. Monster-kinktober: Haunted + Free

A/N: Continuation of this little short story. Enjoy!

Shadow monster x fem!reader || tentacle sex, oral sex, semi-public sex

When your friends insisted on me going into the haunted house with them you were scared, you were scared shitless. You didn’t like scary stuff, you didn’t even like that you were out on Halloween night. You liked your Halloween to be spent with candy and watching cringy scary movies that made you laugh and didn’t stop you from sleeping at night. But apparently you were “a baby” and you needed to “get over it”, or so they said. They annoyed you so much that you decided to say fuck it, the park attractions couldn’t be that bad, even kids went there… Right?

You were wrong.

And now you regretted it. You regretted it with every fiber of your body. When the lights went off and you heard high pitched screams, you joined in, screaming, too. You reached around and found somebody’s arm, thinking it was your friend. You clung to him like a baby koala, your whole body pressed against his side as he kept walking for a few steps, your face completely hidden in his shoulder. Your eyes were firmly closed as he stopped in the middle of somewhere.

"Darling, I'm really enjoying this, but I think you got your arms messed up," an unknown voice whispered against your ear, making you shiver and open your eyes widely, a scream almost escaping your lips before he covered your mouth with his dark hand, chuckling.

In front of you wasn’t one of your friends, but one of the monsters working on the attraction, looking at you with the most delicious smirk on his stupidly handsome face. His tentacles undulating behind his black form, all the shadows around his body, making him look enticing instead of scary. And you were almost salivating, he was that handsome. He looked good enough to eat.

You were two seconds away from running away far from him, completely embarrassed, when he stopped you again, one of his tentacles circling your waist to stop your movements. "Calm down, I will guide you outside, don't worry, I don't bite... At least not if you don't ask first." He winked at you, and you blushed, heavily flustered. Your body was still shivering, but this time it was not from fear.

You pulled away just enough to get your mouth free, but his hand landed on your neck, where he squeezed softly, making your heart skip a beat. “Can we... can we leave now?” You stuttered, trying to sound somewhat coherent even though you could feel the tear stains in your cheeks from earlier and your voice was trembling slightly.

His eyes softened. “No, darling, not yet. The doors are closed until this ends,” he explained, his hand still around your neck, caressing your pulse point and making your heart speed up.

“How long is that?” You asked, breathless.

He looked at the ceiling like it got the answer to that question and answered: “About… 20 more minutes.” You looked at the ceiling expecting to find a clock there, but there was nothing at all… how the fuck?

But you had more important matters to attend to. “Oh. Okay. I should try to find my friend then…” You pushed his chest softly, not really wanting to untangle yourself, but being a bit uncomfortable with the situation.

“Or you could keep me company,” he teased. “I bet I can distract you from the fear,” the innuendo in his tone was so clear you shivered, your panties getting wet. There was no way this amazing shadow monster wanted to fuck you, right?

“And how would you do that?” You asked.

He smirked again. “I don’t know if you realized… But I have tentacles.” His tentacles came around his body and touched different parts of yours, making you giggle when they tickled your sides. “Your laugh entices me like no other ever had,” he confessed as he lowered his head and claimed your mouth. You kissed him with desperation, clinging to his body until you were breaking apart, gasping for air. You forgot you had to breathe for a second, his kiss so good you forgot you even existed apart of that point of contact.

He started kissing down your neck, his hands groping your ass. You looked around frantically, almost expecting some other human or monster to appear, and let out a choked: “He- here?”

“Nobody is going to come this way anymore, darling… And you look especially good against that fake-mold wall,” he joked. Your own laugh died when one of his shadow tentacles slipped under your shirt, cupping your boob and flicking your nipple. You groaned and he looked at you like he was a predator and you were his next prey. You shivered again, your body filling with anticipation.

He touched you all over, his tentacles and hands were everywhere and you couldn’t stop moaning as you bite into his lips. You were fighting for dominance in a battle where nobody would lose. You were kissing like desperate souls finding each other again… and it was intoxicating. When you felt his tentacles lowering your pants and panties, you pulled away for a second, looking at his eyes trying to decipher what was going to happen next. He said nothing as he fell to his knees in front of you.

When he looked up at you, you felt like the most powerful woman in the world. Such a big scary monster was on his knees for you, to pleasure you. It was exhilarating and your pussy got wetter instantly. He probed it with his fingers and you cried out, moving your hips to get more friction. And when he grabbed your leg and put it over his shoulder, you almost lost yourself.

The first contact of his super long tongue against your pussy was like an electric shock, running down and making every cell in your body stand to attention. He didn’t give you time to prepare, before you knew it he was sucking and licking and rubbing and… driving you completely insane. You were almost there, so, so close you could almost feel it in the tip of your fingers. That’s when he decided to make his tentacles join in. A tentacle pressed softly against your asshole as another one pressed inside of you. The combination was too much for you, and you fell apart around him, screaming and thrashing as he held you down with his tentacles so you wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“That was… That was… wow,” you let out between heavy breaths. He chuckled, standing up and kissing you again. You could taste yourself in his lips, and that made you want to devour him even more. You reached his dick, but he batted your hand away. “But I…”

“This was for you. Also, there’s no time, I need to get you outside before your friends come looking for you,” he explained with a smile as he embraced you with his tentacles, pulling your pants and panties up your legs with the softest caress. Your legs were still weak when he guided you out of the haunted house.

He guided you outside slowly, letting you cling to his arm for balance, your knees still trembling after that earth shattering orgasm. Once you were out and you saw your friends looking around for you, at the same time they located you, he leaned down and whispered against your ear: “Hope next time I can fuck you properly, darling.” You blushed heavily and he laughed, pulling away until your friends reached you. They asked a few questions that you weren’t ready to ask and he cut them: "Can I have your phone number, then?" Without thinking too much about it, you gave it to him, ignoring your friend’s cheers and comments as you typed it on his phone.

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: wise likes you, and just about everyone on sixth street knows. ❀ ˎˊ- wise x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 1.3k ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: slightly ooc wise idk im still lvl 26 okay ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: thanks you stellaronhvnters for plaguing my mind w wise. anywho this my mini break from the series LMAO wise. i love you king.

Wise can hardly focus, and for once, it isn’t because of you.

Not that he minds being distracted by you - quite the opposite. He could spend hours just watching you talk and getting lost in your eyes, occasionally nodding or agreeing with whatever you were talking about the day. He liked hearing your voice; it was soothing like a cool river, especially after a grueling day.

But this time, it’s him who’s being stared at, and to his disappointment, the one burning holes into him isn’t you (although he severely doubts he could handle it if it were to be you).

No, instead, General Chop stares at him from the corner of his eye as he prepares other customers’ orders, a hint of knowing in his usual smile. Wise can see the excitement in the chef’s eyes, and it doesn’t take a genius to know why.

“Wise?”

He seizes up, bumping his chopsticks. He’s quick to fix himself as you shoot him a nervous, but questioning smile.

“Sorry, you were saying?” he says smoothly (at least he hopes it’s smooth, he still doesn’t know how to talk to pretty people), eager to move past his minor mishap.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you laugh. “I was just saying that you have a little something on your face.”

Wise feels his cheeks warm. “Oh, really? Thanks for telling me.”

He moves to grab some napkins, but you beat him to it. Wise swears something in him malfunctions when he turns and suddenly you’re all too close to him, your hand reached out to clean up his face.

“Wha- Wait, what’re you-” he sputters, nearly falling off his stool as he lurches back.

“Hey, stand still,” you scold, your slight annoyance only serving to speed up his heart rate because who in the world said it was okay for you to be this cute.

At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming from his head, with how fuzzy his mind feels. He can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but just sit there, dazed as you dab obliviously at the corner of his lip.

As you pull away, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, mentally thanking whatever deities reigned above that he hadn’t fainted on the spot. That would’ve been embarrassing; Belle would never let him live it down.

His face feels cooler - hopefully it isn’t so red anymore. By the time he’s able to think coherently again, you’ve started chatting again. Wise nods along (he has no idea what you’re talking about), and goes to slurp up some of his noodles when he sees General Chop again.

The chef, obviously holding back a cackle, grins encouragingly at him and flashes him a thumbs up in support. Wise internally groans. Would it be a bad idea if he drowned himself in his noodles right now?

And this isn’t the first time either - Wise is pretty sure the entirety of Sixth Street is aware of his… ugh, crush on you (saying it out loud both hurts him and makes him feel warm inside. Which is a terrible feeling. He wants to throw up).

Just last week, he’d seen you at the Coff Café, and Tin Man, being both a gracious cafe owner and a huge romantic, had decided that that day was a good day to have a 50% off deal specifically for pairs if they bought two or more items.

Wise hadn’t questioned it at first, since it was normal for shops to occasionally hold discounts like these to attract more customers. Even he was guilty of it, being a business co-owner himself.

But then you had to call him out in the line, excitedly waving him over as you were at the cashier ordering. Tin Man was behind you, a smile in his eyes that Wise wasn’t sure he liked, but he begrudgingly made his way over.

He still remembers the way your eyes sparkled as you explained the discount to him. They reminded him of the stars he’d see at twilight, when he couldn’t sleep and would climb to the roof just to watch New Eridu’s nightlife.

Naturally, he had accepted your offer of buying him a free drink (no one refuses free food), but he quickly learned to regret it when he saw the mischievous gleam in Tin Man’s artificial eyes.

He still gets flustered thinking of it now - the heart-shaped whipped cream and the whisper of “good luck” haunts him, especially when he thinks about how confused you were at the impromptu decoration.

The amount of times he’s caught his neighbors playing matchmaker, he can’t count on both hands - and that’s not including what Belle has tried. It’d be funny if it wasn’t also incredibly humiliating.

“Master, if you were planning on drifting off, perhaps you should’ve stayed home to take a nap.”

Wise sighs. “Be quiet, Fairy. I’m in public.”

“What?” you blink. Wise blinks back before realizing he’d been a little too loud.

“Sorry, I was talking to myself,” he chuckles awkwardly, hands fiddling with each other - it’s a nervous habit of his. You smile understandingly.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, pushing your bowl towards General Chop to signify you were done with it. “You’ve been out of it today, Wise. Something on your mind?”

You, Wise wants to say, but he doesn’t feel like embarrassing himself further. “I guess I’m just tired. Long day today.”

“I can tell,” you laugh, the sound music to his ears. You hop off the stool after sliding your share of the payment to General Chop. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

Wise’s heart does a little tap dance at your offer, but he manages to keep his cool. He hastily pays General Chop before eagerly joining you in your short walk to Random Play.

“Bro!” Belle greets him enthusiastically as he opens the door. Her eyes light up when she sees you, and she raises her eyebrows suggestively at her brother. Wise shoots her a glare when you aren’t looking. “[Name], too? How was your da- mmghhifjk-”

Wise smiles innocently as he slaps a hand over Belle’s mouth. You can’t help but laugh at the two, and Wise admires the crinkle the corners of your eyes.

“Ignore her,” he says nonchalantly, wrinkling his nose as Belle licks his hand like the little rat she is. “Do you want to come in, or…?”

“No, I shouldn’t.” You wave your hands bashfully. “It’s getting late, so I should be getting back home.”

Wise nods in understanding. Belle pries herself free and he wipes his spit-covered hand on her sleeve, ignoring her sputters and protests (she chose this path. She will reap its consequences).

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.”

You nod, shifting your feet. “I guess it is.”

Wise’s brows furrow at your behavior - what’s on your mind. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long before his inquiry is answered.

You take a step forward, and Wise feels your arms loop around him in a tight hug. Suddenly, his senses are elevated, and it’s almost as if everything is enhanced tenfold. He can feel your heartbeat against his chest, the soft sound of your breath, your hair tickling his face and the heat that radiates off of your body against him.

“I really enjoyed today,” you say, stepping back with a smile that could rival an angel’s. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

Wise tries to formulate a response, but all that comes out is a squeak like a dying balloon. God, if his face was red before, it must be flaming now. You giggle at his response, before you wave both him and Belle goodbye and leave for your home.

It takes a good five minutes before he can speak again.

“Hey sis?”

Belle sounds as shocked as him. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m going to faint.”

He hears his sister sigh.

“Wise, you’re helpless, you know that?” she shakes her head exasperatingly. “And just when you finally made progress too.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[rene-darling]

Hi hiii

How do you feel about Choso from jjk? He's literally so fucking pretty, maybe it was the cool lighting in the episode but bro is majestic. I need to fuck him dumb so bad until he's babbling and his mind is so gone.

Yeah but that's me, how do you feel about him?

(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

DUMB- choso

...I feel the same ml, pretty sure this is gender neutral since I didn't use any pronouns for the reader, if I did feel free to inform me!...pic credits..sybbatra

...choso...

Choso is a pretty tame person, he's had limited contact with people so Imagine this hundred of years old curse who has never slept with anyone,

He's so pretty, isn't he? He definitely throws his head back while you're fucking him. Deep breathy moans and when he's really far gone he starts whining and pleading with you, what's he pleading for? He doesn't know. He just is.

Fuck him on your lap facing him towards a mirror, he's far too embarrassed to look. Throwing his head back onto your shoulder, his hot breath tickles your neck while he moans and whines right into your ear.

Getting too embarrassed by moaning into you, he's forced to look forward, to look at himself being fucked dumb it's so embarrassing he starts crying from shame! Cute darling is now crying into your neck, hiding his face in shame.

"aww... what's wrong soso-..? Hm?" fuck. He hates that nickname- no, he loves it. What? He hates it when you act dumb. "..so mean..y-you're-..s-so meAN-!" cutting off his babbling by suddenly grabbing and jerking his sloppy dick

It's tip is a raging red. It looks so silly.

His long hair flows down his neck and over your shoulder and back as he rests his head there. You jerk his dick a few times before letting it go, his hard-on slaps against his stomach with a wet sound, it makes you chuckle, while he whines at the sound. You're really so mean!!

His muscles tense up, he's really so close! You can tell. It's like clockwork how his body acts the same way before every release, you have its pattern memorized.

Tensing up, his mouth falls dry, and his breath hitches. He convulses, slightly shivering as his body slumps back into you.

His hand reaches out towards yours, and he grabs at it, tugging it, shaking his head he mumbles out "Mhm..n-no more...please, I've-...I've had enough, it's enough experimenting- f-..for today." He finds the energy to turn his head and look over at you. His eyes glossed over as he tries finding mercy in yours.

Sighing, you shake your head, getting a strained whine from him "I told you, we'll fuck until you can't speak- but it seems my pretty boyfriend here is quite coherent and able to make sense of things. We can't have that can we?"

You're so mean, so very mean. But he loves you, and he loves how you make him feel, so he takes a deep breath as he nods squeezing his eyes shut as he pouts his lips, he at least wants a kiss from you before you ravage him again!

[shycoconutt]

“Plea-oh god-please Kento, I can’t, I have nothing left.”

Feeling Nanami breathe into the skin of your neck, he gives you a small hum of encouragement.

“Oh, darling, but I know you can give me more. Be a good girl fr’ me yeah?”

You find yourself in this situation often. Body worship is what some call it. You are at the complete mercy of him, and he treats your body as if it is an extension of his own.

Nanami Kento knows everything about you—what makes your toes curl, your legs shake, your pussy pulse—and he revels in it.

On nights like this, Nanami props himself up against the fabric headboard of your king-sized bed, your back flush against his chest. Your legs rest on the outside of his widely spread thighs. His arms settle on the small of your waist, elbows squishing into the plush there. Chin resting in the crook of your neck, he guides you through every movement, every caress of your soft flesh.

All while his cock is buried deep inside you and his large, strong hands worship your most sensitive parts.

“So beautiful. So good to me. All mine, all mine, all mine.”

His member is tucked so deeply inside you, tip resting right against your cervix, giving it a little taste of his salty pre. Nanami never lets himself release until the very end, needing to feel you cum around him at least five times before he’s satisfied. He says it’s his favorite feeling in the world.

“Shhhh, shhhh, last one baby. Give me just one more, then I’ll give you my cum, okay?”

You don’t know how he does it, and you feel too cock drunk to form any coherent thoughts determining why he’s such an expert when it comes to you. He knows the exact amount of pressure to apply when he pinches your nipples, exactly what pace to rub your clit, exactly where to bite, nip and kiss your skin. Most impressively, he knows exactly what to say when he wants you to let go.

“Mmm you’re so messy, darling. Look, you’ve gotten me and the bed all wet.”

While one hand kneads your breast, he brings the other down between your legs, using his fingers to gather up your nectar.

“Such a good pussy.”

After spreading your wetness around your folds, he brings his hand back up and out in front of your faces, rubbing and separating his fingers so you can both watch the strings of your release stick to him.

“Open.”

You immediately obey his command without a second thought, you always do.

Nanami brings two of his cum-soaked fingers to your mouth, and you invite them in with ease. You feel yourself pulse when your essence hits your tastebuds and you suck needily at his skin.

“Save some for me, darling.”

Gentling hooking his finger on the inside of your cheek, he brings your face to the side to meet his, his dark brown eyes boring into yours with hunger. You release his fingers slightly from your suction, and he brings them out in between both of your mouths. Together, you begin to suck at them, every so often wrapping your lips around them to give each other sloppy licks and kisses.

It’s so hot and erotic, and you are too entrapped in it all to notice your final orgasm creeping up on you. But Nanami notices, he always does.

“That’s a good girl. Where do you want my hands?”

Your head falls back onto his shoulder as you feel your core tighten. You are so close, that you’re surprised you can give him an answer.

“My pussy.”

Nanami quickly brings both of his hands down to your core. He lays two fingers on either side of your sensitive bundle of nerves, rolling it gently between them.

Everything immediately goes white as you let out a cry of intense pleasure. Giving yourself over to him completely, your body goes limp against his as waves of your orgasm crash over you.

“Yes, yes, amazing darling. You’re giving me such a good one.”

Feeling yourself rhythmically pulsing around him, Nanami starts to lose all prior restraint as he lets out a moan from deep within his chest. Hooking his arms under your thighs, he holds them up and to your chest. Bearing all of your weight effortlessly, he begins to simultaneously pound into you while moving you up and down on his cock.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunts into your ear.

All the sudden movement is starting to make you feel dizzy, still dumb from your release. Feeling him pound over and over again all the way to your cervix, you begin to match his moans.

“Such a pretty slut for me. You love when I use you like this huh? Like my own personal fleshlight.”

He’s becoming more relentless with each thrust, signaling what’s coming next.

“Should I give you what you want, darling?”

Bringing your hand back behind you to play with the hair of his undercut, you whimper slightly.

“Mmm, yes, I’ve been so good. I deserve it, Nami, please.”

You can feel his smile against your neck, canines poking at your skin.

“Yes, yes you do.”

With one final thrust, Nanami clamps you down, pushing you as far as you can go onto his length. Hearing his head hit the headboard, he cries out as he begins to release rope after rope of his thick cum into you, coating your plush walls.

It takes you a couple seconds to come to, feeling absolutely full of him. Completely spent, Nanami gently brings your legs back down to rest on his own, then wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders.

It takes a little while longer for both of your breathing to come back to normal, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a state of pure bliss. You thank the universe every day for bringing him to you.

“I love you so much, darling. You have no idea. I’m completely and utterly obsessed with you,” he whispers in your ear.

Hiding your smile in his forearms, you feel a faint blush crawl up your cheeks.

“Let’s stay like this for a while, yeah?” you speak into his skin.

He happily hums to you, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“How about forever?”

a/n: to all my fellow nanami sluts out there, can I get a “hell yeah!”

mdni banner by @kithsune

[seafarersdream]

Last Friday Night | Modern AU! (Cregan Stark x Y/N)

In the realm of scandalous misdeeds, slumbering with your brother’s best friend should be a cardinal sin—dangerous liaison that Y/N Velaryon ought to steer clear of, now nor in any future reincarnation. But, oh, how the rules bend under the weight of temptation. A night of drunken sex with Cregan Stark, Jace’s insanely hot best mate and a towering 6-foot something alpine skier with ice in his veins. What a night it was! Only problem? They were both so tipsy that the details are a hazy blur, and now they awaken in a tangled mess beside each other. Word count: 5,6k

TW // Strong language and profanities, sexual content, mentions of alcohol, smoking.

“Fuck.”

That was the first coherent thought Y/N Velaryon had when she opened her eyes. Her head throbbed like a drum, each pulse a reminder of why tequila shots are the devil’s work. The room was unfamiliar—definitely not hers. The bed was too big, the sheets too expensive, and the body lying beside her too…well, fuck again.

She turned her head slowly, hoping against hope that her suspicions were wrong. Maybe it was some rando, some nameless, faceless guy who she could shove out the door with minimal awkwardness. But when she finally caught a glimpse of the dark, messy hair and the broad, bare back that could only belong to one man, she groaned internally.

Cregan fucking Stark.

Of course, it was him. It couldn’t just be some forgettable one-night stand. It had to be her brother’s best friend, the guy Jace had always been crystal clear was off-limits. And here they were, in bed together, like the setup to some bad rom-com, except this was way more fucked up.

She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to piece together what the hell happened last night. There were flashes—Jace convincing her to go to some ridiculous party at a mutual friend’s country estate (more like a palace really), the champagne flowing, the ridiculous number of shots, and the way Cregan had looked at her from across the room. Not that she'd paid much attention, or so she thought.

And then…nothing. A blank slate. Well, at least until now, when the reality of waking up next to the man Jace had declared off-limits hit her like a truck.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Y/N muttered under her breath, shifting slightly to get out of bed without waking Cregan. But the sheets rustled, and before she could even swing her legs out, a deep voice rumbled beside her.

“Morning.”

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She froze, mid-escape, and slowly turned to face him. Cregan was wide awake, propped up on one elbow, smirking at her like the cocky bastard he was.

“Morning,” she croaked, her mouth dry as hell. “This is, um…”

“A fucking disaster?” he suggested, his grin widening.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Cregan chuckled, the sound rich and annoyingly sexy, even through her hangover. He looked far too pleased with himself, considering the circumstances. His dark eyes held hers, and for a second, Y/N was painfully aware of the fact that she was still very much naked under these sheets. So was he.

This was beyond bad.

“I remember bits and pieces,” she admitted, rubbing her temples. “But not…this. Why didn’t you stop me? Or yourself?”

“You think I could have stopped you?” Cregan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You were pretty damn determined.”

Y/N groaned, slumping back against the pillows. “Fuck. Jace is going to kill us. You know that, right? He’s literally going to skin you alive.”

“Pretty sure he’s got more important things to worry about than who his sister hooks up with,” Cregan said, stretching lazily. “Not that I’m planning on telling him.”

She shot him a look. “And how exactly do you think we’re going to keep this a secret? He’ll know. Jace always knows when I’m up to something. He’s like a damn oracle.”

Cregan shrugged, like he wasn’t at all fazed by the prospect of Jace’s wrath. Which, Y/N supposed, he wouldn’t be. Cregan Stark was all ice and steel when it came to handling pressure. Professional alpine skier, always on the edge of danger—like he didn’t have enough adrenaline in his life without adding ‘sleeping with his best friend’s little sister’ to the list.

“We just pretend it didn’t happen,” Cregan suggested, as if that was the easiest thing in the world. “Last night was a blur, and this morning’s just a bad dream. We’ll go our separate ways, no one’s the wiser.”

“You really think that’ll work?” Y/N asked skeptically.

“We won’t know unless we try,” he replied, his tone almost teasing.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d just finished uni, started her internship at a nice law firm, and was supposed to be focusing on her career. Instead, she was tangled up in the sheets with Cregan Stark, about to engage in the most complicated cover-up of her life.

“Fine,” she finally said, exhaling sharply. “But if Jace finds out, you’re the one explaining it to him.”

“Deal.” Cregan’s smirk softened into something almost genuine, and for a moment, Y/N’s stomach did a weird flip.

She quickly pushed the feeling down. This was a one-time thing, a mistake—one she couldn’t afford to repeat, no matter how tempting it might be. The last thing she needed was more complications in her life.

“Okay, I need to get out of here,” Y/N said, sitting up and scanning the room for her clothes. They were scattered across the floor, a chaotic mix of her dress, shoes, and underwear. Cregan’s clothes were mingled with hers—of course, he didn’t seem to be in any rush to get up. Typical.

As she scrambled out of bed, trying to gather her things, she felt Cregan’s eyes on her, and when she looked back, there was something in his gaze that made her pause. It wasn’t just the lazy, post-hookup look she expected. There was something else, something deeper that she couldn’t quite place. But before she could analyze it further, he smirked again, shattering the moment.

“Need any help?” he offered, his tone suggesting anything but.

“I’m good,” she replied quickly, slipping into her dress and trying to maintain whatever dignity she had left. “I’ll just, uh, see myself out.”

“Sure thing, Y/N,” Cregan said, his voice holding a hint of something she couldn’t quite identify—teasing, maybe, or was it something more?

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She needed to get out of here, get back to her place, and pretend this never happened. As she slipped her shoes on and made a beeline for the door, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time, and it took every ounce of willpower not to look back.

The walk of shame had never been so literal.

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Y/N finally made it back to her flat in South Kensington, pushing through the ache in her head and the overwhelming need for a gallon of water and a hot shower. She fumbled with her keys, silently praying to every god she didn’t believe in that Jace would still be at the photoshoot he’d mentioned yesterday.

But as soon as she swung the door open, she knew her luck had run out.

Jace Velaryon was sprawled out on her couch like he owned the place—legs kicked up on the coffee table, remote in one hand, a half-eaten bowl of cereal in the other. He looked up as she entered, and his face lit up in that way only big brothers get when they know they’re about to cause trouble.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, a grin spreading across his face. “Look who’s doing the walk of shame this morning.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. “Shut up, Jace. I just went for a…walk.” Even she cringed at how lame that sounded.

“A walk?” Jace repeated, raising an eyebrow. “In last night’s dress and heels? That’s a new one, even for you.”

“I wasn’t—” she started, but Jace cut her off with a laugh.

“Please, sis. Don’t even try it. I’ve known you too long to fall for that bullshit.” He sat up, clearly enjoying himself. “So, who was the lucky guy? Or girl? I’m open-minded.”

She shot him a glare, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her cheeks. “It’s none of your business, Jace.”

“Oh, come on,” he whined. “You’re my little sister. It’s literally my job to make your love life my business.”

She snorted, moving past him toward the kitchen. “Right, because you’re such an expert on relationships.”

“Hey, I’ve been in plenty of—” he began defensively, but she cut him off.

“One-night stands don’t count, Jace.”

He laughed, unfazed. “Touché. But seriously, you look like death warmed over. Was the party that wild?”

Y/N could still feel the blood rushing to her face, and she kept her back to him, rummaging in the fridge for a bottle of infused water. “Yeah, it was…something.”

“I knew it!” Jace crowed, slapping his knee. “I knew you’d have a good time once you loosened up. See, you should listen to me more often. You’re always so serious with your work stuff, but you gotta live a little, Y/N. You’re too young to be so…responsible.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Because as much as she hated to admit it, Jace had a point. Her life had been all about exams and internships lately, no time for fun or the kind of reckless behavior that usually ended with waking up next to a Stark.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Party more, work less,” she muttered, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a long drink.

Jace leaned forward, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “So, was he hot at least? This guy you left with?”

Y/N almost choked on her water. “What? I didn’t leave with anyone.”

“Right,” he said, dragging the word out. “That’s why you’re sneaking back in at ten in the morning with bedhead and makeup smudged like a panda. Come on, just tell me who it was. Was it that guy Luke introduced you to last week? What was his name…Liam? Leon?”

She shook her head, exasperated. “Hells, Jace, can you just drop it?”

Jace grinned, leaning back again. “Oh, this must’ve been a really good one if you’re getting this defensive. Come on, Y/N, I’m dying here. Give me something.”

For a second, she considered telling him the truth—just blurting it out and watching the chaos unfold. But then she thought of Cregan’s lazy smile, the way he’d suggested they just forget about it and move on. The way her brother would probably explode into a million pieces if he knew. And she decided against it.

“Fine,” she sighed dramatically. “If you must know, it was some random bloke, okay? No one you know. Just a guy. But yes, he is fit. Satisfied?”

Jace considered this, squinting at her as if trying to detect a lie. Finally, he shrugged. “I guess. But if you don’t want me to know, that just makes me want to know more. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” she replied, moving past him again, hoping he’d drop it.

He watched her go, still grinning like an idiot. “You know, you should bring him to the next party,” he called after her. “Introduce me. I promise I won’t bite…unless he’s into that sort of thing.”

Y/N groaned and flipped him off over her shoulder. “You’re disgusting, Jace.”

“Love you too, sis,” he shot back, laughing. “And don’t think I won’t find out who it is. I always do.”

She shook her head, muttering curses under her breath as she retreated to her room. She needed a shower, a coffee, and about ten years of therapy to figure out how she’d ended up in bed with Cregan Stark of all people. But first, she needed to figure out how to keep Jace in the dark. Because if he ever found out…

Well, that wasn’t even worth thinking about.

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Cregan Stark stood in the middle of his wrecked bedroom, hands on his hips, surveying the chaos. Sheets twisted, pillows on the floor, a lamp somehow knocked over. It looked like a tornado had swept through, and that tornado’s name was Y/N Velaryon.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his tousled dark hair. He tried to piece together the events of last night, but the details were hazy, like trying to grab smoke with his bare hands. He remembered flashes—the way she looked at him, the heat in her gaze, the sound of her laugh, and the taste of alcohol on her lips.

But everything after that? A blur.

Goddamn shame, too, because if there was anything he wanted to remember clearly, it was Y/N Velaryon in his bed, under him, her nails digging into his back. Fuck, he’d have liked to play that on repeat in his mind forever, but the alcohol had betrayed him, stealing away the details of what was undoubtedly the hottest night of his life.

He started picking up his last night’s clothes scattered across the floor and cursed himself again. How could he forget? He rarely drank that much, being an athlete and all, but last night…last night had been something else. He found his shirt flung over the back of a chair, his pants half-hanging off the edge of the bed. His brief were bunched up in the corner, and then—

Oh.

A small, red scrap of lace was tangled up in the sheets. He picked it up, grinning as he realized it was her G-string. She must’ve been in one hell of a hurry to leave it behind. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the delicate fabric, imagining her wearing it, and smirked.

“One hell of a merchandise,” he muttered with a chuckle, tucking the lace into his pocket. “Score.”

It was stupid, really. A goddamn G-string, and here he was, acting like he’d found a winning lottery ticket. But there was something about Y/N—something that had always pulled him in, even when he’d been trying his hardest to ignore it. Jace’s little sister, forbidden territory. He’d spent years pretending he didn’t notice how fucking gorgeous she’d grown, how smart and sharp-tongued she was. But last night had shattered all of that pretense into a million pieces.

He shoved the rest of the clothes into a messy laundry pile, wondering how long it would take for Jace to find out. Y/N was good at keeping secrets, he’d give her that, but Jace was practically psychic when it came to his sister. Cregan could already hear his best friend’s voice in his head, pissed off and protective, probably ready to bash his skull in.

But for some reason, that didn’t bother him as much as it should. He found himself smiling, still, as he started straightening up the room. Maybe it was because he liked the idea of having something that was just his and hers—something Jace didn’t know, something they could keep between them.

And hell, if it was anything like last night—at least, what he could remember of it—he wouldn’t mind making a habit of it.

As he finished tidying up, he spotted his phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a new message. He picked it up, already knowing who it would be.

Jace:

Yo, brunch? Need to talk to you about something.

Cregan snorted. Of course, Jace wanted to talk. He always did when something was up with Y/N. He hesitated for a second, wondering if Jace had already figured out what had happened. But nah, if Jace knew, the message would’ve been a lot less polite.

He typed back a quick reply.

Sure, mate. Usual spot?

There was a pause before Jace responded.

Jace:

Yeah, see you in 30. And don’t be late, you lazy fuck.

Cregan chuckled, tossing the phone back on the bed. Yeah, this was going to be fun. He grabbed a fresh shirt, slipped it over his head, and, with a final glance around the now semi-clean room, he headed out.

He might not remember every detail of last night, but he’d be damned if he let that stop him from figuring out how to make it happen again.

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Cregan arrived at the little brasserie they always met at, a tiny spot tucked away on a quiet street. The kind of place with faded awnings and mismatched chairs that served strong coffee and even stronger Bloody Marys. Jace was already sitting outside, a cigarette dangling from his lips, dressed in designer shades and a leather jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent.

“You’re late,” Jace called out as Cregan approached, flicking ash into the street. “I was starting to think you’d bailed.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, mate,” Cregan replied, sliding into the chair across from him. “But, you know, mornings are a bitch.” Especially when you’ve just spent them cleaning up the aftermath of what could’ve been the best mistake of your life, he thought.

Jace smirked, passing him the pack of cigarettes. “Yeah, looks like you had a rough one. Big night?”

Cregan shrugged, playing it cool. “Something like that. But hey, speaking of big nights…” He leaned in conspiratorially, lighting his cigarette. “What’s this I hear about Aegon?”

Jace snorted, taking a drag from his own cigarette. “Oh, mate, you haven’t heard? It’s fucking priceless.” He leaned back, tapping the ash off with a grin that was half-amused, half-disgusted. “My dear cousin managed to land himself in the hospital. For his cock.”

Cregan choked on his first drag, coughing out smoke. “What?” he managed between laughs. “His cock? You’re joking.”

“I swear to god,” Jace said, holding up his hand like he was taking an oath. “Apparently, he was trying to pull off some kind of…threesome, foursome, who the fuck knows, at one of those clubs he’s always getting kicked out of. Anyway, things got out of hand, and next thing you know, he’s screaming in agony and they’re rushing him to A&E.”

Cregan was in stitches, wiping a tear from his eye. “You’re telling me Aegon actually managed to break his dick?”

“That’s the rumor,” Jace replied, chuckling. “Doctors said it was some kind of penile fracture. Can you imagine? Poor bastard was probably halfway to heaven when he got dragged right down to hell.”

“Thoughts and prayers mate, that’s rough,” Cregan said, still laughing. “How the hell does that even happen?”

Jace grinned, leaning in. “Apparently, he got too enthusiastic. Girl was on top, he was thrusting up, and…” He made a snapping motion with his fingers. “Snap.”

Cregan winced, half in sympathy, half in amazement. “Fuck me, that’s got to hurt. How long’s he gonna be out of commission?”

“Couple of months, at least,” Jace replied, blowing out a stream of smoke. “He’s already whining about it all over social media. You know Aegon. Can’t suffer in silence.”

Cregan snorted. “Sounds like him, alright. Bet he’s milking it for all it’s worth, too. Getting the sympathy votes.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jace agreed. “He’s already got half the city sending him flowers and chocolates like he’s some kind of war hero. Even Mum’s getting involved—sending him a care package like he’s gone off to battle instead of just fucking his way into the emergency room.”

They both laughed, loud and unrestrained, the way only friends who’ve known each other too long can. The kind of laughter that turns heads from the neighboring tables, but they didn’t care. They were in their own world, swapping stories, cigarettes, and coffee.

“Honestly, though,” Cregan said after a moment, shaking his head. “Only Aegon could turn a night out into a medical emergency. Guy’s got a talent.”

Jace grinned, flicking his cigarette butt away. “Yeah, but you know what they say about talent and stupidity—it’s a thin line.”

Cregan chuckled, taking another drag. “And Aegon’s crossed it, time and time again.”

“Too right,” Jace replied, nodding. “But it makes for good entertainment. Can’t wait to see how he spins this one. You just know there’s gonna be some kind of dramatic story about how he risked it all for love or some other bullshit.”

“The hero’s journey,” Cregan quipped, smirking. “Except with more broken bones and fewer dragons.”

Jace laughed. “Fewer dragons, more dick injuries. Welcome to the modern world.”

Cregan took a long drag, blowing out smoke slowly, his mind still partially elsewhere, still thinking about the G-string tucked in his pocket. Yeah, this was the kind of gossip he could get behind, but there were other things—better things—on his mind. Like how he was going to see Y/N again without Jace getting suspicious. Because if Jace found out…

Well, he’d just have to make sure Jace never did.

Jace was mid-sip on his coffee when he caught a glimpse of something on Cregan’s neck. He blinked, did a double take, then broke into a wide, shit-eating grin that could have lit up all of London.

“Oh, no fucking way,” he practically howled, slamming his coffee cup down onto the table and leaning forward. “Is that…what I think it is?”

Cregan, who had been in the middle of stubbing out his cigarette, froze. “What the hell are you on about?”

Jace pointed, still grinning like he’d won the lottery. “Your neck, you dumbass. You’ve got hickeys all over it.”

Cregan felt his stomach drop, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he reached up, rubbing his neck as if he is already aware of them. “Oh these?”

Jace let out a loud, triumphant laugh. “Come on, don’t play dumb with me. Whoever you were with last night really went to town.”

Cregan could feel his face heat up, but he kept his expression neutral. He was an expert at this game; he’d been friends with Jace for too long to let him see he was rattled. “Maybe I just ran into a really aggressive mosquito,” he shot back dryly.

“Bullshit,” Jace cackled, smacking Cregan on the arm. “Come on, bro, spill the beans. Who was it? Who’s the lucky lady leaving marks on your neck like you’re a piece of meat?”

Cregan shifted in his seat, trying to keep his cool. He could still feel the faint burn of Y/N’s lips on his skin, and damn if that didn’t send a shiver down his spine, even now. “Just a random girl,” he said casually, waving a hand like it was nothing. “Nothing serious.”

“A random girl, my ass,” Jace scoffed, leaning closer, his grin wider than ever. “Come on, mate. I know you better than that. You don’t let just anyone mark you up like that.”

Cregan rolled his eyes, trying to deflect. “And how would you know what I do or don’t let happen?”

“Because I’ve known you for a decade,” Jace shot back, grabbing another cigarette. “You’re picky. Way pickier than me, and that’s saying something. So, whoever it was…must’ve been special.”

Cregan fought the urge to wince. If only he knew just how “special” the girl had been. He could almost see Jace’s face if he ever found out. Cregan could already imagine the explosion—the yelling, the accusations, and Jace’s unrelenting fury. Yeah, best to keep this under wraps.

He leaned back in his chair, shrugging. “You’re reading too much into it, Jace. It was just a fun night. No big deal.”

“Fun enough to leave those,” Jace said, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Seriously, they look fresh. Did you at least get her number?”

Cregan snorted, taking another sip of his coffee. “Nah. It was just one of those things, you know? No strings attached.”

“Huh, strings,” Jace snickered. “Or no strings…left, eh?”

Cregan’s hand twitched towards his pocket, where Y/N’s G-string was still tucked safely away. He felt a momentary thrill of panic, wondering if Jace could somehow read his mind, but his best friend’s smirk told him he was still in the clear…for now.

“Look, mate,” Jace said, putting out his cigarette and leaning in with a mock-serious expression. “All I’m saying is, whoever she was, she clearly had a good time. And you…you’ve got the evidence to prove it. But come on, give me something. I’m dying here.”

Cregan laughed, finally slapping Jace’s arm in return. “Alright, alright, fine. Maybe I’ll tell you…someday.”

“Oh, you will,” Jace replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. “One way or another, Stark, you will.”

As Cregan leaned back, smiling like he hadn’t a care in the world, he knew this was a situation he’d have to play carefully. Because if Jace ever found out the truth, those love bites on his neck would be the least of his worries.

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Monday arrived like a slap in the face, and Y/N was not ready. Not even a little bit. She sat at her desk, her fingers hovering over her laptop keys, but her mind was a million miles away. She was supposed to be working on some due diligence report, but instead, she was spiraling.

Full-on, out-of-control spiraling.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t had her fair share of one-night stands before. She was young, single, and sometimes she just needed to blow off steam. But this? This was different. Because it hadn’t been just anyone. It had been Cregan Stark. Her brother’s best friend. The guy Jace had practically tattooed with the words Do Not Touch where she was concerned.

And it wasn’t like she was worried about Jace finding out, not really. She was a lawyer, for fuck’s sake. She lied for a living, spun stories into gold, and could argue her way out of anything. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw Cregan’s face, felt his hands on her, and heard his deep, rumbling laugh in her ear. The memory alone sent her into a panic.

She’d needed to talk to someone. Someone who wasn’t Jace. So, of course, she’d turned to her cousin, Baela Targaryen, who was currently perched on the edge of Y/N’s desk.

“You did what?” Baela practically screeched, her voice loud enough to turn a few heads in their direction.

Y/N winced, shooting her a look. “Keep your voice down, for fuck’s sake,” she hissed.

But Baela was having none of it. She was practically vibrating with excitement, her violet eyes wide. “You slept with Cregan fucking Stark?” she repeated, but at least this time she whispered. “Holy shit, Y/N. This is…this is epic.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning. “No, it’s not. It’s a disaster. A full-blown, Jace-will-kill-me disaster.”

“Are you kidding?” Baela snorted, leaning in. “Jace doesn’t have to know. And besides, Cregan’s hot as hell. I mean, have you seen him? Those shoulders? That jawline? And he’s an athlete. A pro skier. The man probably has a body like a fucking Greek god. Why are you freaking out?”

“Because it’s Cregan,” Y/N said, exasperated. “It’s Jace’s best friend. And I’m supposed to be focusing on my career, not getting tangled up with guys I shouldn’t be touching.”

Baela rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’re young, hot, and brilliant. You can focus on your career and still have a little fun on the side. I mean, who hasn’t wanted to sleep with their brother’s best friend at some point?”

Y/N gave her a look. “Most people, Baela.”

“Well, most people are boring,” Baela shot back, grinning. “Look, you’ve always been the responsible one. The one with the plan, the one who does everything by the book. Maybe it’s time you let loose a little. And besides…” She leaned in, her grin widening. “How was it?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, and she hated how easily Baela could do that to her. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I mean, it was…good. Really good. But that’s not the point.”

Baela laughed, her bright, melodic sound echoing through the open office space. “Oh, that’s exactly the point. Come on, Y/N, you’re practically glowing. It must’ve been better than good if you’re this messed up over it.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to pull herself together. “It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake. A one-time thing. It can’t happen again.”

“Why not?” Baela asked, still smiling like a psychopath. “If it was so good, why can’t it happen again?”

“Because…” Y/N started, fumbling for the words. “Because it just can’t, okay? I can’t deal with the drama. And Jace will find out, and then it’ll be this whole big thing, and—“

Baela waved her off. “Jace doesn’t have to know, alright? You’re smart. You can handle it. And who knows? Maybe Cregan’s just the kind of distraction you need right now. Especially with all these dry, boring cases we’re stuck with.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah, a distraction is the last thing I need right now. What I need is to keep my head down and avoid any more…complications.”

“Oh, Y/N, you can do that,” Baela teased, nudging her with her elbow. “But where’s the fun in that? Life’s too short to be boring. Especially when you’ve got a Stark on your side.”

Y/N shot her a glare, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not helping.”

“And you’re overthinking it,” Baela replied. “Look, you had a wild night with a hot guy. Enjoy it. Don’t spiral. Just…see what happens. You might surprise yourself.”

Y/N wanted to argue, wanted to tell Baela she was wrong, but deep down, she knew her cousin had a point. She was spiraling, and it wasn’t getting her anywhere. Maybe Baela was right.

Or maybe she’d end up in even deeper shit. But what’s done is done.

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Cregan slammed the barbell back onto the rack with a grunt, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The gym was quiet on a Monday afternoon, just the rhythmic thud of weights hitting the floor, the hum of the treadmill belts, and the occasional grunt from the other athletes scattered around. It was exactly how he liked it—minimal distractions, just him and the iron.

But today, he couldn’t focus for shit.

He was supposed to be prepping, getting his body in peak condition for the winter season. Autumn was crunch time for a professional skier. Every session counted, every rep, every second shaved off his sprint time mattered. And yet, here he was, barely keeping his head in the game, because all he could think about was Y/N Velaryon.

Fuck, he needed another go.

He dropped down onto the bench, grabbing a towel and rubbing it across his face, trying to clear his thoughts. But it was impossible. His mind kept replaying the brief flashes he remembered from that night—the way she’d looked up at him, her lips parted, her hands pulling him closer, nails digging into his skin like she couldn’t get enough of him.

And the way he couldn’t remember every goddamn detail was driving him insane.

He needed a do-over. A second chance to burn the memory of her into his brain properly this time. The half-forgotten fragments weren’t enough. Not even close. He wanted to remember everything—the way she tasted, the sounds she made, the way she moved against him. He wanted to savor every moment, replay it in his mind during the endless hours of training and competition.

He grabbed a medicine ball, slamming it down against the floor with a force that rattled the nearby weights. He knew he needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t afford distractions, not now, not with the season so close. But the harder he tried to focus, the more his thoughts drifted back to her.

To the way she’d looked that morning, rushing out of his flat, her hair a mess, her dress askew, and the small, scrap of lace she’d left behind like a calling card. He felt a grin tug at his lips just thinking about it. Fuck, she’d been gorgeous. And he’d been too smashed to enjoy it properly.

“Get a grip, Stark,” he muttered to himself, slamming the ball down again, trying to burn off some of the frustration coursing through his veins.

But it was no use. No matter how many reps he did, no matter how much weight he lifted, the image of Y/N wouldn’t leave his mind. He remembered the way she’d smirked at him from across the room at that party, the way her eyes had lingered on him just a little too long, like she’d been daring him to make a move.

And, oh, he’d made a move, alright. He just wished he could remember every damn second of it.

He switched to the rowing machine, gripping the handles tightly, and started pulling with quick, powerful strokes. His muscles burned, sweat dripped down his back, but it still wasn’t enough to push her out of his mind.

The problem was, he wanted her again. He wanted to see her, touch her, hear her laugh that low, teasing laugh she had. But this time, he wanted to be fully aware of every single thing he did to her, every little reaction he could coax out of her. He wanted to watch the way her pupils dilated when he touched her, hear the way her breath hitched, see that flash of challenge in her eyes when she bit her lip.

He wanted to remember. All of it.

He needed to see her again, needed to make that happen. But how? It wasn’t like he could just call her up. She was Jace’s sister, for fuck’s sake, and Jace was already poking around, suspicious as hell. No, he’d have to be careful, play it smart. He needed to find a way to get her alone again, away from her brother, away from prying eyes.

The rowing machine beeped, signaling the end of his set, but he barely heard it. His mind was already spinning with possibilities, ideas forming as he wiped the sweat off his face.

Yeah, he’d find a way. There was no way in hell he was letting this go. Y/N Velaryon was under his skin now, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get a chance to do things right this time.

Cregan cracked his neck, a determined smile spreading across his face as he headed toward the free weights. He’d figure it out. And when he did, he was going to make damn sure he remembered every single second of it.

[yanderedrabbles]

What are yours OCs fetishes/kinks? What type of scenarios will make them go mad?

Also how big are they?

Sweet and Sour - yandere boys and their kinks

Warning: slightly dub-con content, blasphemous misuse of a crucifix, lots of anal Shoutout to all the anons who asked for this. I love you, ya little pervs.

Yandere! Cowboy wants to fuck you in the ass. He might try and prep you a little at first, working his fingers in and opening you up. But once he's got the tip in, all his care goes out the window and he's ramming himself into you like a goddamn stallion. Part of him just wants to make you cry again but mostly he wants to be the first in all your holes. They say you always remember your first time right? And he wants to burn himself into your mind. Over and over again.

Yandere! Soldier has the biggest cock by far. A solid twelve inches and thick as a fist. He's got a thing for getting head. He'll sit with his legs spread and his head thrown back, muttering in his native language. He loves popping it out of your mouth and feeling the soft tissue of your cheeks rubbing against his tip.

Mostly, he tries to be nice to you. But sometimes - after a long day or if you give him just a bit too much attitude - he'll stop holding back. He'll grab your neck and squeeze and his lips will just barely brush yours. He loves the way your cunt flutters around his cock when he does it. And some sick part of him likes the way you push at him so desperately and still can't manage to move him. I suggest you be careful. He wants to treat you well but he's still a soldier and there's a deeper depravity to him than either of you know.

Yandere! Boyfriend can definitely last the longest. He's also probably the only one who can successfully stop himself once he's inside of you. Your pleasure and comfort outweighs his own and if you even flinch, he's almost immediately pulling out and making sure you're alright. But trust me, it sure as hell isn't easy.

He adores breeding. The thought of filling you up and starting a family is the only coherent thought he has when he's inside you.

And it's so intimate. The fact that you're letting him spill himself inside you, letting him invade your body like that, is like the ultimate declaration of trust. He also likes wiping up any spilled cum with your panties and then keeping them with him for the rest of the day.

Sometimes he can get a bit mean. Like he'll keep eating you out even when your clit is a swollen, aching mess. Its the one guilty pleasure he allows himself.

Yandere! State Trooper is such an exhibitionist. He wants you to fuck him in the back of his cruiser while he's still on duty. When his dispatcher calls in, he'll press his hand over your mouth and try to sound professional. Even if his voice is nothing more than a growl at that point.

If he doesn't have time for even a quickie, he'll make you get on your knees and suck him off while he sprawls across the driver's seat. With nothing but his open door to keep away prying eyes.

He really loves putting his fingers in your mouth. Even when his other hand is busy finger fucking you, he'll have at least three fingers pressing against your tongue. He loves seeing the drool dripping down your chin and wet fingers are all the better to fuck you with.

And if you don't want to indulge him? He's got his handcuffs and his baton and he sure as hell can make you. So just be a doll and make it easier on yourself, all right?

Yandere! Cop loves chasing you down. Usually it's just for fun, a little teasing between the two of you. But sometimes his eyes go dark and dangerous and some animal instinct makes you run like hell. He'll fuck you wherever he catches you - against a tree, on the hood of his car, against your neighbour's fence. And trust me, he always catches you.

After a night out, he wants nothing more than to fuck you on your stomach with your wrists held together in the small of your back. It's by far his favourite position and he likes ramming you into the mattress so he can fuck your party girl makeup right off.

He likes eating you out when you're on your hands and knees in front of him - so he can grab your ass cheeks and spread them and draw his tongue down across your cute, puckered ass all the way to your shivering clit.

He doesn't say it, but sometimes he thinks about breaking in when he's disguised as your stalker and wrestling you to the floor. Tearing your clothes off and using them to tie your wrists together. Just to teach you a lesson about stranger danger. Maybe then you'll be more careful when you're out partying.

Yandere! Gangster gets hard at just about anything you do. Literally just touch him and he's a goner (gooner?) He's got a major weakness for stockings and heels. They make your legs look so damn good and all he can think about is being on his back with your stilettos pressed against the delicate arch of his windpipe.

Yandere! Incubus wants secret rendezvous. He wants to pull you into the shadowed alcoves that dot the abbey and fuck you against the wall, your habit pushed up around your waist and your rosary jumping against your chest with every vicious thrust. His biggest kink is making you go about the day with his cum still inside you, leaking back into your panties as you kneel for mass and light the votives.

His biggest turn on? The thought of fucking you while he forces a crucifix up your tight little ass. He wants to feel your ass and cunt pulsing, trying to shove him out and take him in all at the same time. And the cross buried all the way to the outstretched arms of the Saviour? He wants to watch it twitch and shudder as he rams into you.

He's a demon after all. What did you expect?

Yandere! Desert Bandit might be the second biggest. He doesn't have Yandere! Soldier's girth but he almost beats him in length at twelve and a half inches.

He's got a thing for feeding you. Most of the desert cuisine is eaten by hand and he gets so rock hard watching your suck his fingers clean.

He secretly wants to share you with his second in command. Him in your cunt and his second in your mouth so they can spit roast you. He's too possessive to ever let the man near your pussy though. And a dangerously proprietary part of him wants to watch you suck the other mans dick while you're down on your knees. Both you and his second in command belong to him, either through marriage or loyalty. And he gets so turned on watching you both and knowing it's only happening because he's allowing it to happen.

Yandere! Academic Rival is surprisingly kinky for such a nerd. He has a whole draw full of toys he can control from his phone. He gets off on making your use them when you're supposed to be studying or taking a test. When he can see you're stressed or thinking too hard he immediately turns them on, usually to the highest setting. If you ever get pissy about it, he claims he only wants to sharpen your focus. If having a shatteringly good orgasm in the middle of a term paper is a distraction, that's not his fault.

He wants you to dress up a bit like his favourite characters. Not really full on cosplay, but usually something dirty inspired by their aesthetic. By the time you graduate, you have a closet full of luxurious and exotic lingerie.

Maybe it's his upper class upbringing, but he has a thing for pearls. He spent a fortune on an extra long necklace that doubles as a leash. He'll stand behind you when you play the piano, tugging at it every time you make a mistake and with his cock growing harder every second.

Yandere! Apocalypse Survivor is a voyeur, make no mistake about it. In addition to sneaking glances while you bath, he'll tell you he's going out to check the perimeter or stand guard but instead double back just to watch you change. Sometimes he'll get lucky and watch you play with yourself, your head thrown back and one hand across your mouth to stifle your gasping.

He's totally into squirting - especially if you'll do it in his mouth while he eats you out. It's filthy and depraved but there isn't really a society left to judge him, is there?

He's big on biting, which is pretty ironic considering the circumstances. He isn't quite sure how to explain it to you without sounding like he's turning into a zombie himself, but he's going to keep trying until he gets it right and you let him sink his teeth into your ass cheeks.

[spitdrunken]

HIAHA I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE MR SCARLETELLA CAN YOU WRITE MORE. so odd and unsettling and obscene m just giggling with delight

HIIII thank you so much for the high praise <3 this has kind of a different vibe from the last one but plays with similar-esque concepts!!!! this is 'weird and obscene' LMAO

Notes: Suggestive, mild body horror, bolded = dialogue in the Other World's language.

==========================

How do you touch a man without a physical form? Or, you suppose, 'man' isn't quite the correct term. 'Apparition' would perhaps best describe him. Though he can reach out to you and make you feel the illusion of touch, you can't actually make contact with him. Your hand passes through him as if he were nothing but air.

You don't think he minds. It's always a bit hard to tell, with him. Mr. Scarletella ususally just stares you down with a dead look, communication relatively limited. But you would like to touch him! So you experiment a little, an action for which no mutually intelligible word exists. Still, he doesn't move as you poke and prod at different parts of his body, coming up short every single time.

You crouch down before poking at his ankle, just in case. When you look up, your heart stops for just a moment. Mr. Scarletella's neck is snapped back, folded in on itself in order to observe you. Vacant-seeming eyes are trained on your every movement. The sight makes you feel squeamish. "God... Not do," you tell him. "Head look hurt. Not funny." There's no other way you can think of to put it. You get up and stick your hand down, waving your hand in the other direction at the side of his head. He seems to understands what you mean, as his skull snaps back in its usual direction. You circle around him. "Sorry. Not want upset you." He says, although you know he'll never really listen or learn, not when it comes to these things. "Me like you. You like me." As if you'd ever forget. You beckon him. Rather than simply leaning down, his form flickers, distorting, before reappearing in the desired position. There's just one place you haven't touched yet. Once again, you extend your hand, the tips of your fingers brushing against the top of his umbrella. The surface is smooth to the touch and wets your skin, accompanied by a small burst of static ringing in your ears. It takes a moment for the significance to register. "Oh! I can touch your umbrella!" You say, forgetting the Other World's language in excitement over your discovery. Even though it's relatively small. You can't touch Mr. Scarletella himself, but the umbrella appears to be 'realer' than the rest of him. ...Actually, maybe the umbrella is a part of his body? He's not human, after all. He doesn't have to exist according to your logic. Your brow furrows. The puzzle pieces of language move in your mind, until they're slotted together semi-coherently. You point at his arm. "Arm you." Then, you do the same for his leg. "Leg you." You wave your arm up and down. "Body you." Finally, you lift your hand in the direction of the umbrella. "Object you? Me can touch object. Touch you?" Mr. Scarletella's smile widens. It reveals a little bit of the void that stretches on behind his lips. "I see. Correct. Object me. Object is..." After which he lowers his umbrella and says a word you haven't heard before. You try to repeat it, and he says it once again, pointing the umbrella in your direction. "Touch umbrella. I want."

It's definitely... Weird. It's genuinely like touching an umbrella. Cold and smooth and slightly wet. But Mr. Scarletella wanted you to do it, and you're kind of intrigued yourself, so you do it. Because there's clearly something happening. As you trace your fingers over the outer canopy, making sure to at least touch every panel a little bit, his visible form starts to flicker and fade. When you apply a bit more pressure, move a little faster, parts of him start to distort and change colour. His arm appears a little dislodged from his shoulder, static rising in the background.

When you pinch one of the metal tips in between your fingers and rub it, he lets out a laugh that is far more high-pitched than you would've expected it to sound like. Clearly, there's some kind of link between the umbrella and the rest of himself. Though you can't envision what it must be like, he's feeling something. Your hand pauses. In the blink of an eye, Mr. Scarletella has materialised even closer to you, nose close enough to touch yours, if it could. The inky darkness of his pupils makes up most of what you can see.

"Me like. Like like like like." He sounds breathy despite not breathing. "Touch more. Again. Me want you."

[starlightseraph]

me when i’m an illegal venezuelan alien in a springfield, ohio prison and communist kamala forces me to have a transgender operation performed by newly aborted 10 year olds on steroids who don’t know they’re alive.

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

cw: angry (unprotected) sex, afab reader, ungodly amount of tension, some dirty talk. you’re fucking viktor after a fight with him. that’s it. pretty much plotless — just some poetic filth written on a whim (well, i tried, at the very least). very, and i mean very poorly proofread — but i’ll fix that a bit later.

word count: 1850~

“Fuck you.”

It’s a clumsy, uncoordinated thing — hissed through gritted teeth and suffocatingly stinging exhales — a threat you spat out with the sole purpose of poisoning, of mingling gall with thick saliva and shoving it down that pretty throat, secretly aiming for the heart instead; if only he possessed such a thing, that is. 

The arrogant prick pants into the havoc of tangled tongues and bleeding bottom lips, the inviting stretch of his mouth utterly helpless against the sharpness of tortuous canines — you’ve crossed the line where a kiss turns into a bite, choking each other with liquid sounds and gawky clashes of teeth. 

He grins into the sweet heat of you, forces a wheeze out of what feels like the very depth of your lungs, and a pair of narrow hips nails a resonant snap into the pliant curve of your ass. 

“No,” he shakes that irritatingly wise head, “no, I suppose— ah,— that’s my job.”

Damp foreheads press against each other in an angry search of proximity, eager fingers gagging to crawl under his scalp, pulling at those disheveled strands with desperation — as if trying to find an entrance into Viktor’s very brain — to rearrange it in whatever way he does it to your guts and dignity. 

The handfuls of you — well, the weight of one breast and still burning under his handprint hip, to be precise — were melting. He reduced your body to a hundred sensitive pieces, demerging something whole and coherent you were presenting before he first had you in his damned bed. He dragged you in, acquaintening with exceptional filth he’s capable of producing — and you hated just how much better having his mouth on you felt than merely shutting it in ways that involve rivalry.

“Oh, save it,” you lick the metallic taste of him off the sharp angle of his chin — tongue wiping a glistening stripe in a rush to destroy the tiny evidence of your a little overly enthusiastic nibble, but Viktor — oh this utterly revengeful creature — brings a cruel palm to the smaller of your back, demanding you bend in half for him. Demanding you drown your face in the pillow as he fucks from behind; sweetly humiliating and sloppily hard — it’s the kind of sex making you arch in whatever ways you can manage. And so your spine forms just that delicious curve, slightly changing the angle of penetration — and Viktor moans a quiet curse, somehow pulled even deeper into the divine warmness of your pretty cunt, tip buried so deep inside it you might have to arch even more — to avoid the not so pleasant experience of it roughly slamming against your cervix. 

His thrusts are precise; well-aimed enough to benefit from that slight curve of his cock, had your spite for him drooling onto the sheets, each moan sweeter than the previous one. He stiffens for a split second; most likely to reposition the sore knee into a softer gap of the mattress, and you whine at the loss of him, hips wiggling backwards in a needy seek of his girth. Involuntary vulnerability — all squints, and flushed cheeks, and threatening ‘pleases’ — the embodiment of impatience. 

He laughs. He fucking laughs, letting a sly hand crawl under you, then dive in between widely parted thighs, and his fingers snake down your navel, travelling lower, preciser, filthier — just where you throb for them, just where you need assistance to collapse boneless onto the mattress. It’s a compromise, of sorts — an apology to your abandoned for a few minutes clit, and you’re shamefully thankful for it, awarding Viktor with a single, reluctant ‘yes’. 

“My, such impressive… eagerness. I almost feel flattered,” Viktor quips, but a jab earns him just a single furious glance thrown over your shoulder. “I wonder just how frustrated you’d get if I were to leave you unsatisfied.” 

You scoff. “That would be an ultimate guide for never sleeping with me again.” 

That lie is half-assed, unconvincing. Your tongue betrays you — oh that pathetic excuse of a nimble muscle; and you decide to quit relying on it for verbiage in his bed. And his desk. And his workshop. Though that part required reticence nonetheless. Both in moans and semantics. 

Viktor doesn’t comment on the treacherous stumble of your words or the pitifully quivering delivery. You’re gagging to note that he’s losing his grip, but he proves you wrong — letting two deft hands grab your waist, then sinking back into you. No, his grip is as sturdy as ever — digging into your skin, pulling closer, sliding inside with ease; cunt an embarrassingly wet mess wrapped around him tight enough to strangle. 

He’s a quick learner — even quicker now that he has to keep up with you, to chase the frantic pace you’re setting, to not get too distracted with the waves roaming all over the skin of your ass whenever it hits his pelvis, offering a delicious view of just how perfectly you swallow him to the hilt. 

“Are you threatening me, miláčku?” he’s chasing your skin like a man starved to death — desperate to lick, to touch, to devour, chest falling flat on your back — narrow, and flushed, and sweatslick, ribs digging under the space of each one of your shoulder blades. It’s a cry for proximity — a literal one, vibrating against the nape of your neck when he sharply thrusts forward, hips jerking upwards to become one with you, rapidly trembling fingers circling your clit hard enough for it to be sweetly sore in the morning. 

“Ah— Yes,” you gasp, abandoning your attempt to master a dangerous enough warning, “yes, I am threatening you.” 

“I see,” it comes out of him choked up — almost equally breathless to your pathetically rushed outburst. “Then I shall refrain from — mh,— tormenting you. I would grow quite miserable if you decided to rid me of sojourning my favorite place in the world.” 

Your fucked out brain short-circuits, clearly reduced to its most primitive state; you’re going to cum and you need to dig your fingers into something — anything, eyes roaming all over the messy bed, choosing your victim — but your options are limited either to tangled sheets or a handful of Viktor’s hair. You instantly pick the latter — just as eager to touch him, to ignore the sharp angle your arm caught when it reached for him, grabbing the back of his neck and pressing his face to yours, thick eyelashes tickling your damp temple. It’s a distorted position; all contorted limbs and pre-orgasm spasms — can’t have him pounding you from behind and licking into his mouth in the meantime; but it doesn’t stop you from at least trying. You turn your head to whatever extent possible, pulling at the havoc of dark hair, struggling to cage his tongue into the sweet lock of your lips. 

“What- What did you just say?” your tone is demanding; urgent. You’re almost halfway through your climax, and he knows it — feels it when you clench around him hard and tight, lavish slick drying between parted thighs. 

“I- I meant… you. My favourite place in the world is… inside you. And I would hate to upset you in any, ah, way—” but you don’t listen past that part. Oh no, you don’t let that man ruin you any further — which, at this point, would be beyond recognition — and your tongue attempts to crawl into his mouth again, fingers tangling a rough tug into a handful of chestnut strands. 

“Kiss me,” you plead, hot and breathless against his lips — a sloppy thing, open mouthed and trembling. “Viktor, please, kiss me.” 

The last syllable rolls off your tongue straight into his throat — Viktor is at your whim even before you managed to form that request, suckling swells into your bottom lip with an occasional whimper — shy and gentle, just so utterly him — arousingly subtle, flavourful, nimble. Heavy on the nimble part, since the mere presence of him in your mouth helped you capture your undoing — beautifully clumsy; wet hot pleasure running down shaky legs — a mess of arching hips, pretty foreign swears and swollen under the thorough touch of his fingers clit. He broke you like he was made for it, vowing to never stop, to never let that weary wrist pressed above your clit rest — you’ve deemed him worthy of being the one whose cock you cum around, and Viktor — so intelligent, incorrigible, yours — would never waste such a privilege. 

He does, however, regret his greediness when his own orgasm impatiently reminds him of its approach. It had him moaning your name almost deep enough to sound devastated — and that he was, in a way, uttering one last hissy curse into that bruising kiss before abruptly pulling out, frantic fingers rushing to be wrapped around his width. Your vision — blurry, incompetent and drunk on bliss — still allowed you a pretty view of him pumping that throbbing cock, its heaviness palpable on your lower back even in this state of divine afterglow. 

He came to the sight of you — still bent over, half-lidded, ruined. Painted your skin in his release yet still stared at you in the most beautiful awe ever, amber eyes radiating complete devotion — so sweet and picturesque, cheeks the softest shade of pink as he cried, cumming on your pretty back — a pair of hot tears rolling down his face as you let him pour himself on your very body.

Rushed, unexpected climaxes — one might even assume they probably lacked in gentleness. And perhaps they would have — if only it wasn’t Viktor you’re fucking tonight; hands just as tender as they’re exhaustive. He collapses beside you — still careful, invariably contemplative, gaze needled into your face looking for any signs of remaining anger; touch explorative, approbatory. Lazily slipping underneath you and pulling closer, inviting into a loose knot of limbs — and you allow it, letting your hand wander to languidly count his ribs, then stopping to deliver an occasional tickle. 

He hums and tucks you under his chin. Probably hinting at a truce. A temporary one, at least. 

“I’m still mad at you though,” you decide to inform him, letting a curious index finger press into his dark nipple — earning yourself a quick yawn and a crooked little smile. 

“Hm, are you really?” he insists — the ever attentive devil, always catching that particular tremble of your words. He did a great job in fucking you stupid and now demanded you admit it: the fight is over, you’re appeased and completely witless. 

But you don’t budge. Not this time. You’re not any less vengeful and always so persistent on dragging the cheekiness out of him — either with fighting or with fucking. Both were equally entertaining nonetheless. 

“Yes. Really,” you finally reply, submitting to the chain reaction and yawning back, rubbing the watering eyes with a free from pinching at Viktor’s chest hand. 

“Hm, how inconvenient. In that case, I must’ve failed as a lover.”

“How so?”

“Well, my only intentions were to leave you senseless enough to forget about the incident. And, well, since you’re still perfectly capable of being spiteful—“ 

“How about you shut up before I smother you in your sleep?” 

[bluekidchaos]

Silco x Reader

i have nothing coherent to say but i've been rotating this man inside my mind like a microwave dish for a week straight and need it out of my system, so here is huh, sucking silco off while he smokes

Pairing: Silco x Reader

Warnings: 18+, blowjobs (turns into face fucking??), pet names (pet, love, dear), hinted dacryphilia, dirty talking (mix of praise and degradation), boot humping (huh ?? what ? who said that, guys i think there's a ghost here), no use of pronouns but female parts mentioned

Words: 1.5k

Can also be read on AO3!

Back to masterlist.

silco coming back to the last drop after a meeting with the other chem-barons notably frustrated, huffing and muttering under his breath about "imbeciles and morons"

as he sits himself down in the big leather chair behind the desk trying to light a cigar but the lighter won't work in his angry grasp, getting him on edge even more until he throws it across the room in a fit of rage

you sigh as you get up from your position on the couch, so far seemingly unnoticed by the man, and pick up the lighter

making your way over to the desk silco finally looks up at you, his eyes softening a little when they land on you, you perch at the edge of it and hold the lighter up to him

he puts the cigar up to the flickering light and takes a long drag before exhaling, already feeling more relaxed as he inhales the tobacco. silco leans back into his chair and takes another slow drag while looking you up and down closely

"bad meeting?" your foot coming up to rest in between his spread thighs on the chair, the question of what he needed from you unspoken but understood

he grunts in response, "bad week overall.." the hand not occupied with holding the cigar lands on your foot, stroking up and down the expanse of your calf giving you your answer

almost like it was instinct you slide down from the desk and down on your knees in front of him, now trapped between him and the desk

his hand comes down to stroke a stray strand of hair back behind your ear and you nuzzle your cheek into his warm palm

silco leans down in the chair to your level, nose almost touching yours, "how about you make me forget what a bad week it was, pet?" the heavy smoke envelopes your senses for a second before you jump into action

you start by slowly dragging your hands up his thighs, letting one hand graze over the bulge in his tight pants while the other comes up to unbutton them

silco raises his hips slightly off the chair to help you lower his pants and underpants for easier access while you grab his cock out of its confinement, giving it an experimental stroke you hear silco gasp above you

the hand left on your cheek moves around your head and tangles in your hair, his eyes never leaving yours as you finally lean forward and lick his entire length

when you reach his tip you stay there giving soft kitten licks, you make sure to keep eye contact with silco while doing it, you loved seeing his reaction while you pleased him

his grasp on your hair tightens a bit and he sucks in a sharp breath as your tongue flicks at his tip, you can tell he's about to chastise you for teasing him so before he can get a word out you take his full length into your mouth, well as much as you can at least

silco finally breaks the eye contact, throwing his head back with a grunt as you take him down your tight throat, "fuck, good pet"

the pet name makes your pussy throb and you can't help but to clench your thighs to try and create some friction

he lets you set the pace at first, bobbing your head at a comfortable pace while letting one hand stroke what doesn't fit in your mouth, you trace your tongue along the veins decorating his dick and give his tip a couple of flicks whenever you come up for air

the hand not occupied with helping your efforts travel up his shirt, letting it rest against his stomach, using your nails to scratch at him from time to time to aid the sensations and you can feel him shiver under your touch

silco is now completely relaxed in the chair, head leaned back and cigar in his unoccupied hand, inhaling and exhaling thick smoke, the almost indifference he shows you makes you even more turned on somehow

to anyone else, it would look like he's ignoring your efforts but you know him better, the hand clenched in your hair, the heavy breathing, and the few noises that escape him give away how this is really affecting him

you decide to tease him more, not going down fully this time, just keeping the tip in your mouth to suck on while your hand jerks him off lazily while looking up at him

silcos head snaps down to look at you, his eyes burning with desire and frustration, "now, now, pet.." he growls out at you, "let us not get lazy when you were doing such a good job before" he adjusts the grip on your hair to a makeshift ponytail before searching your eyes for consent

you give him a small nod and try to smile up at him but he presses your head down on him fully now, nose pressed into his pubes, and holds you there

he leans his head back again and lets out a low moan at the feeling of your throat constricting around him, he revels a bit in your small struggle, the feeling of one hand scratching his stomach and the other desperately clinging to his thigh before letting you up for air

when he finally pulls your head up you take a deep breath and cough, you try to blink the tears clouding your eyes away so you can meet his gaze

silco groans at the way you look up at him, lips red and swollen, tears running down your cheeks, but it's the way you smile up at him that has him throbbing for you

he pulls your head down again, this time setting a brutal pace that has you barely catching your breath and you can't stand it anymore, the ache between your thighs is getting too much and you need something, anything

you whimper around his cock, the vibrations send a jolt of electricity up his spine, you look up at him and try to make a pouty face, which considering your mouth is stuffed full of his cock is pretty hard

silco knows your every expression however and you get your point across either way, he chuckles at the desperation in your eyes, "hm, poor you, need something to soothe you? is my cock in your mouth not enough for you?" he mocks you

but he moves one of his legs between your legs and you feel yourself get wetter at the display, "there, there, pet, make yourself feel good while i use your throat as i please"

you can feel your cheeks heat up at his words, you can't believe this is happening but you're honestly too turned on to think about it for too long before you roll your hips against his boot

the feeling of finally getting some friction against your clit makes you moan around his cock and you roll your hips again and again and again before you've set a pace likewise to the one silco is guiding your head at

silco was already close but the vision of you brings him to the edge, eyes closed and tear-stained cheeks while you were humping his boot, your noises muffled around his dick but the vibrations are making him go crazy

you feel yourself getting closer to ecstasy with every roll of your hips, you're sure you've made a mess on his boot by now but you couldn't care less, all you could think about was dragging your tongue around silcos cock while his hips meet your face and humping his leg like an animal in heat

both of you could tell the other is close now, you hollow your cheeks around him and that's enough to bring him over the edge with a shout, emptying himself into your mouth and you try to swallow every drop of him but there's too much and it spills out and around his cock

the feeling of your mouth tightening even more as if that was possible makes silco tense and he pushes his leg into you more, putting unexpected pressure on your clit just as you made contact with him again and you feel yourself being pushed over the same edge, warmth spreading through your whole body as you ride out your orgasm

silco carefully lifts your head off of him after a little while and you take a deep breath again, you start coughing as some of his cum slides down to wrong pipe

he rubs and pats your back until you've calmed down and brings you up into his lap, letting you curl up against him as you both catch your breaths, "thank you dear, are you alright?"

you snuggle into him more as he brings his jacket over you as a makeshift blanket, you can feel soreness in your jaw and thighs creeping in but you were too tired to care right now, "hmm, sore, tired"

silco smile agaisnt your head before giving it a quick peck, "rest my love, i'll be here when you wake up to take care of you" and with the sound of his smooth voice whispering in your ear you finally fell asleep

[dearest-nell]

here comes your man

s. harrington x f!reader, 2.1k

summary: you go to pick up your very drunk boyfriend from the bar after a well deserved night out warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns

a/n: i was half asleep when i wrote this so all i can say is my bad, and i hope my three am deleirum brings you some joy

Hey… you might wanna come pick up your Stevie-Boy. He’s a bit wrecked...

It was a phone call you had half expected, though you didn’t mind admitting that you wished it had not come at 3am on your Saturday night. Steve had been so excited for a night out with the boys – work seemed to be piling onto him more than usual, and more often than not you’d find him half asleep on the couch by 8pm, arm propped uncomfortably beneath his head and back twisting awkwardly. This night came along with the extra TLC you prescribed him this week, taking on a little extra responsibility around the house so he might relax even just for a moment. Steve was a caretaker by trade, and doing things for himself seemed to hark back to a time where he only did things for himself. It took a lot for him to rewire that belief in his brain – self care did not mean selfish, he was a good person. 

You thought that the time out with his friends would remind him of that; how wonderful he was, how loved he was. He could be without responsibility for a night and simply enjoy himself. And enjoy himself he was… you hadn’t heard such an amused lilt to Eddie’s tone for a long time. You spent the drive over pondering just what kind of state your boyfriend might be in, your eyes heavy, body cooling with the iced air that blew through windows opened in an attempt to keep yourself awake. Eddie at least had sounded coherent, so you figured you would not be alone in the battle to try and haul your boyfriend into your beat up car. 

Dressed for the comfort of your own home, it took one disgruntled look towards a stubborn bouncer to let you past without paying an entry fee. You wondered how often this happened – half asleep partners turning up moments before closing to take their inebriated darling home. The thought made you chuckle softly to yourself, body weaving through the stragglers of the night still dancing to a wrapping up DJ. 

Eddie had told you they’d meet you by the lounges when you arrived, though Steve was nowhere to be seen as you approached your tired looking friend, his face pleased, if not a little weary. 

“Where is he?” You questioned, letting Eddie lean down to wrap his arms around you tightly, his weight pressing heavier on you that you had expected under the influence of what you assumed had been many, many shots. 

“At the bar. I thought he’d crashed half an hour ago, but he’s had a second wave.” 

You felt the short burst of laughter bubble up, an unsurprised uh-huh leaving your lips at the notion, eyes drifting towards the thinning crowd collected for the last call. Eddie let you go with a shrug, stepping back to let you go. 

“Alright, I’ll go get him. I’ll wave if I need you, ‘kay?” The nod you received was answer enough, and you set off leisurely towards your unsuspecting boyfriend. 

Steve was half hunched over the bar, palm rolling an empty shot glass flatly across the sticky surface as he waited for an already busy bartender. You couldn’t see his face, but you could picture the expression with such clarity – eyes heavy, blinking slowly as they tracked blearily across the back of the bar, that sweet, contented smile plastered on his lips for no reason at all. 

Following suit, you leaned yourself up against the bar beside him, elbows propping you up to rest your head in your palms. 

“You getting another drink, handsome?” 

Steve made a soft sort of mumbling sound, his head lulling to the side as he leaned away ever so slightly. “Mm, yeah… think so.” 

You nodded, smiling at the way he swayed on his feet. “Oh, I see. You wanna have some water with me?” 

Steve rubbed harshly at his face, eyes screwing shut tightly before blinking hazily at you. “No, thanks.” 

His gaze turned away, his grip on the shot glass faltering for a moment, reflexes only just catching it before rolling over the edge. You reached slowly to pluck it from his hand, though he recoiled sluggishly at the contact, forcing your brow up into a curious arch. 

“How about I take you home, then? Seems like they’re wrapping up.” 

Steve sighed, hands running through his hair in that same familiar flustered motion you were so acquainted with. Ordinarily, Steve would have been bouncing out of his skin to see you, but right now, he seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else. 

“Look, it’s nice of you to ask, but ’m taken. My girlfriend’s comin’ to get me.” 

Oh, how sweet. You’d never seen Steve so far gone that he hadn’t recognised you, but now that you focused your own tired eyes, you could see that his own were barely open to begin with. Your smile widened, amusement settling over you at the sweetness of him. 

“Really? You’re not even gonna look at me? Maybe I’m worth breaking the rules for.” 

He scoffed at that, body straightening up as much as his addled state could allow, his feet stumbling beneath him to put another feet of distance between the two of you. 

“I’m sure you are f’someone else, but ‘m not interested.” His tone was more clipped now, friendliness falling away in the hopes of deterring you. “Not another girl in the world for me but her.” 

God, he was sweet, and more in love with you than you could have ever hoped for a person to be. Your heart ached, entirely overwhelmed with adoration for this man who was waiting for you. 

“Well that’s very lovely.” You cooed, turning sideways to look at him, one arm dropping to your side while the other hand continued to prop your chin up, helping to hide that rosy blush that seemed to stain your cheeks. “I really think you should look at me, though, Stevie.”

You watched as the thought crossed his mind, a slow understanding that something about this interaction seemed out of place. It seemed to take another moment for reality to set in, his body turning and eyes widening comically as they came into focus. 

“Honey!” 

It had you in hysterics, the way his arm gave out from under him, narrowly avoiding his torso from smacking down against the bar top as he lurched towards you. Your arms extended out to catch him, meeting him halfway until his body was pressed tenderly against yours, eager hands creeping up to cup your cheeks, holding your face towards his so he might really look at you. 

“You’re here!” 

Your laughter rang out happily, eyes crinkled at the delight mirrored in his own. 

“Yeah, baby, of course I am. Wanted to make sure you got home safe.” 

If an iris could change shape, then you were certain you saw Steve’s melt into delicate hearts just at the thought of you coming out to take care of him. His thumbs ran adoring lines across your cheekbones, trembling slightly with restraint. 

“S’good to me.” He mumbled, words drowning out within the still deafening music that surrounded you. “Missed you.” 

You felt him slump against you ever so slightly, still conscious of weighing too heavily against you even in his inebriated state, though how he was holding himself up anymore was anyone’s guess. It was your sign to wave Eddie over, though, who without fuss looped a supporting arm around Steve’s back. 

“You gonna let your girl take us home, then? I’m gonna pass out, man, I’m so wrecked.” 

Steve’s brow furrowed, alarmed to have been so suddenly pulled back from you to lean on Eddie, and he reached out a hand in a needy sort of motion towards you. “I wanna dance with her before we go.” 

Too sweet for his own wellbeing, you offered him a sympathetic look, slipping yourself under his other arm to help prop him up. 

“We can dance at home just you and me, okay? In our pjs too — won’t that be nice. We just don’t wanna keep Eddie waiting too long; he’s all danced out.” 

You watched the contemplative look cross his features, leaving him distracted enough for Eddie to start guiding the three of you towards the door without much fuss from Steve. 

“Did you have fun though Ed? Really?” Steve asked, genuine concern threading through his tone as he addressed his friend who managed an affirming nod in response. 

“Loads. We’ll all go out again soon, but I’ve gotta give you back to your sweetheart before she gets too jealous.” 

Steve’s nod was so serious as he processed the words, entirely missing the small look of amusement shared between you and Eddie as you pulled yourselves from the establishment. 

“Yeah.” He agreed, his head lulling sideways to rest on the crown of your own. “She needs me.” 

It had sounded like a joke when he said it, but even you could sense the small severity behind the words, almost reassuring himself of the truth behind them. Of course you needed him. 

“Yeah, she does.” You confirmed, kissing at his shoulder clumsily as you tried to focus on your steps, narrowly avoiding toppling the three of you right over uneven pavements underfoot. “I always need you, honey.” 

You did not need to look at Steve to know that he was smiling — you felt it as you held him, felt it in his touch and the heat of his body carefully wrapped around yours. At least this night felt like a success in your eyes. Steve was happy, and you had done your part to make him so. He’d be awfully hungover tomorrow morning, but he’d be happy, and that was all that seemed to matter to you in the moment. 

Eddie managed to hold Steve upright while you fiddled with the lock of your car door, the boy now contently distracted with regaling tales of the night to the man who had witnessed them first hand. Getting him into the car was easy enough, tucking him cautiously into the front seat, your body leaning over him to click his seatbelt into place, his hand lifting to rub at your lower back in thanks. 

“You’re the best, y’know, baby? The real best. The best best.” 

You paused to smile at him, head shaking in amusement before brushing your lips against his cheek, relishing in the way his hand gripped excitedly at you for the briefest of moments. “I could say the same about you, y’know.” 

“Nuh uh.” 

A groan sounded from outside the car, drawn out and exasperated beyond compare. “Jesus H Christ, I’m begging for someone to take me home. It’s so fucking late, guys.” 

You pulled back with a laugh to witness Eddie’s petulance, your hand coming out to gesture to the back seat. “Then get in the car, dingus, and I’ll take you home.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Steve slurred from the front seat, the battle against his weariness now long lost, eyes closed and head resting heavily against its back, unable to hold itself up any longer. 

Eddie clambered into the back with a half assed eye roll, splaying out across the work back seat until he, too, was one with the upholstery. “You guys aren’t gonna be gross and sayin’ i love you’s all the way home, are you?” 

Steve’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh shit, I haven’t said I love you yet!” 

The charming little frown that spread across his face was enough to melt you in your entirety, your hand reaching out to brush his check with affection, his nose nuzzling sweetly into the cup of your palm. “I’m not worried about it; I know you do.” 

“Yeah, but I do love you. I was thinkin’ it the whole time, thinkin’ you’re so pretty n’ all. So pretty that I couldn't remember to say it.” 

Eddie just huffed again in the back seat, his complaints overtly ignored despite the growing expletives.

“I love you too, Stevie. How about we get Eds home and get you some water, then we can be as sweet as we wanna be.” 

Steve’s lips pressed into your palm, his kiss unhurried and uncoordinated as the alcohol hindered his usual grace, a mumbled m’kay tickling your skin as he spoke. 

You looked up into the rearview mirror, dropping your hand to Steve’s knee for the boy to hold, keeping his neediness satiated for the time being as he grasped it between his own eagerly. “You hear that, Eds? You’re in the clear. Let’s get you boys home.” 

A grumbled thank god and the creaks of the backseat window being clumsily wound down was enough incentive to start your travels, a pleased smile gracing your lips to know that Steve had been given exactly the night he deserved after all. 

[gravity-barbie]

There's only one bed HCs

Featuring: Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Viktor, Lila, Sparrow!Ben & Sloane

A/N: This isn’t a request, I just had to post the fluffiest prompt I could after s4. Also, the umbrella’s characterisation in this is very s1 inspired.

Masterlist

Luther Hargreeves

-Luther is immediately very flustered, you’d think he just stumbled out of the middle ages with how concerned about propriety he is in this situation, and he can barely form a coherent sentence

-He offers to take the floor, but if you do the same and/or insist on sharing he’ll quickly compromise on the latter if for no other reason than not wanting to disagree with you, but that decision has his heart racing a mile a minute

-He feels very self-conscious about taking up most of the bed, so any reassurance from you that you’re comfortable, or better yet, like his closeness absolutely melts him

-He stays half awake all night, too afraid of doing something embarrassing in his sleep to get any proper rest, but his contentment to just enjoy your nearness still makes it one of the best nights of his life

-Since he was already awake (and he’s a total sweetheart) he gets up early to scavenge you two up a breakfast in the morning, enjoying this slice of domesticity with you a little longer

Diego Hargreeves

-Diego says he’ll take the floor, but if you even slightly question that choice he gets embarrassed and defensive, suggesting you two share the bed just to prove that he ‘doesn’t care’

-Obviously he does care, outwardly he keeps his cool, but on the inside he’s swarming with butterflies like he’s a teenager

-As much as he tries to appear aloof, he’s actually being so considerate, checking if you’re comfortable more than once and making sure he isn’t touching you at all

-He’s not the easiest sleeper, tense and alert, and at first lying next to his crush doesn’t exactly help, but as the two of you talk and banter a little, the tension starts to defuse and he actually finds your presence very soothing

-He’s the type to get cuddly in his sleep, much to his shame and annoyance in the morning, he doesn’t let himself enjoy the amazing feeling of holding you in his arms for even a full minute before he’s scrambling back to his side of the bed and pretending to be asleep

Allison Hargreeves

-Allison can be a grown up about this, there’s only one bed, why wouldn’t you share it? She’s not indifferent but she doesn’t overanalyse the situation either

-She gladly embraces the domesticity of the scenario though, drawing out her nightly routine, and getting chattier than usual, trying to savor this experience that she’s wanted for so long

-She’s also trying to make sure you feel at ease too, figuring if you do feel awkward, that’ll fade as the two of you talk and unwind

-She is prone to nightmares, so don’t be surprised if you’re startled awake in the middle of the night and put in the unenviable position of trying to ease her, but she for one is very glad that it’s you she wakes up to

-Speaking of waking up, sunrise is the peak of this experience for her, feeling yours and her tangled limbs, seeing how peaceful you look while you sleep, it's the kind of moment she understands the importance of cherishing

Klaus Hargreeves

-Klaus suggests sharing, he’s slept under way more awkward circumstances next to people he’s felt way more uncomfortable around, it’s really no big deal

-He has to remind himself to keep his thoughts PG a couple of times and can’t get through the night without making at least one innuendo but overall he is respectful and won't likely make you uncomfortable

-Though he can keep his thoughts clean it's harder to keep them platonic, the longing he feels being so close to you is nearly overwhelming and he wishes so badly that the context was different

-With you by his side he sleeps more peacefully than he has in… ever, it actually kind of amazes him

-He's in no rush to leave your side in the morning, the sleep clouding his brain making him all too willing to forget his reservations and cuddle up to you for as long as you'll have him

Viktor Hargreeves

-Ever the gentleman, Viktor immediately offers to take the floor, but he feels quite heart-warmed by you insisting on sharing

-Even platonically the intimacy of sharing a bed means so much to someone as affectionate starved as him, but with the added context of you being his crush this experience feels like a mini miracle

-He's pretty nervous though, triple checking that you're okay with this and minimizing his own space as much as possible when he gets into bed

-He relaxes with some reassurance and the two of you quickly get comfortable, starting up a random conversation that's meant to segway into sleep but could keep you talking all night if you're not careful

-As opposed to the anxious start to the night, waking up next to each other feels like the most natural thing in the world

Lila Pitts

-Lila's thrilled, she doesn’t immediately suggest sharing but she makes it clear she’s not sleeping on the floor and is all too happy to accommodate you if you won't either

-If you do try to give her the bed and take the floor though she stops playing coy and basically tells you to grow up and share with her, insisting it’s no big deal

-But to her it is a big deal, honestly she can't believe she didn't plan this herself it's that perfect, she can barely fight back an unending smile

-Though keeping things sfw she does lay the flirting on thicker than usual and pays close attention to how you react to that and the situation you're in throughout the night

-As bold as she is she isn't actually used to this kind of closeness and the intimacy of sleeping next to her crush does start making her slightly nervous, but luckily your presence has a way of making her feel better

Ben Hargreeves

-Ben’s not exactly a go with the flow type, if you’re put in a position where there’s meant to be two beds and there’s only one, he’s gonna try to get his other bed

-Ands it’s only after all his demands fall on deaf ears that he even registers the implications of sharing the one, nervousness quickly sets in but he tries not to show it, avoiding looking at you and giving his usual sass

-He does offer you the bed, sounding more begrudging than he actually is, it’s actually his preferred solution, cause as spoiled as he acts he could never sleep comfortably at your expense

-But of course you insist on sharing and as soon as he’s laying next to you, he confirms what a bad idea this was, he’s just as flustered as he feared he would be, maybe more so

-He pretends to fall asleep as soon as possible so you won’t catch on to how he’s feeling, but actually he’s awake and on edge for hours

Sloane Hargreeves

-Sloane has encountered this scenario in more than one romance novel before, so her brain just goes wild with the possibilities

-You’re the one to suggest sharing the bed, and it absolutely melts her heart, it's sweet and it's a relief to know you're comfortable being this close to her

-She always has a hard time hiding her crush on you, but she’s never been so flustered before, the butterflies in her stomach verge on painful

-But she's also giddy and her contagious enthusiasm guarantees the two of you will have a good night, your energy is half 'slumber party' and half 'married couple's nightly routine'

-The experience is wonderful for not just Sloane but you as well, because even if you didn't have a crush on her before, spending a night with her surely makes you realize you want to spend many more with her