#so i guess i have both bad and good ties to it

[recovering-dungeon-lord]

I keep seeing all these posts analyzing the Minrathous/Treviso choice, arguing that one or the other city ‘is basically fine’/‘isn’t as bad off’/‘doesn’t need saving as much’/etc, or is just straight up the better/right choice to sacrifice. (A lot of this seems to be Deeply tied up in people’s feelings on Neve and Lucanis as characters, often much more so than actually talking about the fate of the cities in question, but that’s a whole other post that I… probably won’t make tbh.)

And like. I get it. I get the impulse to justify one or the other decision so your Rook can sleep at night/you the player don’t have to deal with the discomfort of knowing that, even if it’s just a game, you made a decision with a monumentally terrible outcome. We all want to think of ourselves as Good People who, in a time of crisis, would Make The Right Decision. But I think, in trying to justify which choice is correct/less wrong/more moral/whatever, we’re kind of missing The Whole Point?

Because like. It’s always seemed pretty clear to me that the entire message behind the Minrathous/Treviso decision is that there is no right choice. No matter what you do, a part of your world will fall further into ruin. Innocent people will suffer and die. One of your companions will be forever changed as a person. You can’t prevent that.

I’ve also seen people who seem to be diving into the details and searching the subtext for ‘what the writers are really trying to say with this choice’, drawing conclusions like ‘its about political consequences vs civilian consequences’ (which, those won’t stay separate for long btw), or ‘it’s about whether you care more about preventing immediately visible short term consequences or slow, insidious long term consequences’. And like. Sure, I guess? But again I think it’s kind of majorly missing the point. Regardless of their mode or timeline or visibility, both choices ultimately have 2 consequences:

1. Complete political takeover of the city by a corrupt faction that delights in performing acts of cruelty and oppression.

2. The senseless deaths of hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people.

Again, regardless of the choice you make, it results in the worst possible outcome. In the meta-narrative of the game, the entire story arc following the fate of Minrathous and Treviso is basically a flashing neon sign that reads ‘YOU CAN’T SAVE EVERYONE.’ You don’t have to search subtext for that. It’s pretty explicitly there in the text. It basically IS the text.

We want there to be something deeper and more nuanced, some intricate, hidden statement about the nature of humanity or society or power, but I really don’t think there is this time. I think it’s something much simpler and much harder to stomach: that sometimes leaders are called upon to make decisions in which every option is the wrong one, and they have to choose anyway.

[kattozilla-blog]

something i saw in my dream last night

it was a little porcelain cut man holding a bible, it sounds silly but it was oddly comforting

there were other porcelain figurines of robot masters, but there was only one christian cut man lol

[sysig]

Totally unaffected by this gesture of affection, definitely (Patreon)

[artdcnaldson]

you can probably tell all this shit is from me but i'm on something tonight and i'm too pussy to sign off with an emoji. anyway, thinking about bsf!artrick arguing over who fucks better and they look at you and who are you to say no to a purely Scientific Experiment. it's for the greater good! i need them to run a train on me. holy shit. them blindfolding you and making you guess who's fucking you and who's eating you out etc.

You’re so iconic I need you to know I worked on this to make it perfect for you and I hope you enjoy!!

But SIGHHHH Getting tied down to the headboard so you can’t cheat and feel for clues! So you’re blindfolded, tied, and completely susceptible to their whims. They’re trying to ignore how pretty you look, because this is simply to settle a disagreement, okay! This has nothing to do with how bad they’ve both fantasized about fucking you since they’ve known you!

It starts with their hands. You’ve never paid much attention to them before (you’re lying), but you swear you can feel the difference between them just by the touch. Patrick touches like he’s trying to stake a claim on your skin. His hands are rough from use— you can feel the rough scrape of callouses against tender skin as he gropes at your tits. Art’s touch is tender and intentional. A little softer (you know he keeps hand cream in his gym bag so his hands don’t crack and split like Patrick’s)— his hands trace along your body delicately, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

That’s easy, but it’s harder to think when it’s their mouths on your pussy, licking and teasing and fucking devouring. You squirm against the restraints, but firm hands hold you down in one spot. Art’s hands on your hips, Patrick’s fingers teasing at your entrance. Patrick’s mouth— fuck.

Patrick eats you out like he wants to ruin you for anyone else, and he very well could. It’s wet and messy and so, so desperate, like he’s got something to prove. He pulls back and spits your arousal back onto your cunt, and you’re sure there’s a puddle beneath you that’s a mix of spit and your juices. Your back arches off the bed as he hikes one of your thighs over his shoulder, bringing you impossibly closer. The sound of his fingers thrusting into your sopping pussy are so obscene that your cheeks burn— you’ve never been treated like this by anyone else before, but you like it. You like how hot and desirable he makes you feel. His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks with just the right amount of pressure, and your thighs shake from the intensity of it all. You couldn’t have tried to hold off your orgasm if you wanted to— Patrick wanted you to cum, so he made you cum, with all the expertise of someone who’s eaten pussy countless times before.

Your cunt is still twitching with aftershocks when Art moves between your thighs and licks up all of the slick spit and cum from Patrick’s endeavors. It’s almost soothing, how his tongue traces the shape of you, like he’s committing the contours of your body to memory. He rubs at your thigh with his free hand, and uses his other hand to ease two fingers into your cunt. He doesn’t fuck you with his fingers the way patrick did, he lets your walls flutter around them, squeeze him tight. He moans at the feeling, at your taste. There’s something about the way that Art nuzzles against your pussy, his nose rubbing at your clit as he tastes you, that tells you he fucking loves it. Patrick is good at eating girls out, but Art lives for it. Your hips cant against his mouth, and Patrick makes no move to hold you down, Art wouldn’t have wanted him to. Art lets you buck against his tongue, his nose, cover his face in your juices. The noises he makes are so pornographic you’d think he was the one getting head. You’re so oversensitive that Art makes you cum like it’s no work at all, with teasing licks against your clit and pressure against your g-spot. He’s practically making out with your pussy as you come down, and finally relents with one final kiss to your twitching clit.

“I can’t—“ you gasp, chest heaving after having two orgasms in such a quick succession. “I just need a break, I need… fuck, like a minute to catch my breath.”

“Yeah?” That’s Patrick’s voice, beside you. When he rubs a hand over your thigh you inhale a shaky breath. “You sure you wanna keep going?”

Then there’s Art’s hand, rubbing along your bicep and brushing hair from your face. “We can stop.”

You should feel exposed and vulnerable— tied up to your headboard with a silk scarf from your dresser, your entire body on display for your two best friends. Your entire body burns with need and desperation. You’ve wanted it for so long, and now that you’ve had it, how can you go back to the way things were before? How can you look at Patrick and Art when you know how their mouths and hands feel against your body? You can’t stop there— you can’t give up because what if they’re hit with clarity immediately after? What if you never get a chance again?

“Don’t wanna,” you say quickly. “Please don’t stop.”

If you weren’t blindfolded, you’d be able to see the pleased grins on their faces. They’ve wanted you like this for fucking months, and now there you are, all tied up, pretty, and dripping for them. Fuck tennis, this is one competition neither of them is willing to lose.

You feel them coax your thighs further apart, opening you up to them completely. You don’t have time to feel shy about how exposed you are, because one of them positions himself between your thighs, notching at your entrance.

In your attempts to identify which one it is, you rely on the few senses you can access. His breath hitches the second the head of his cock breaches your entrance, slipping into your wet warmth. A strangled gasp that you hear him struggle to silence. He’s positioned over you— you can smell sweet cologne and shampoo as he holds his body up and drives into your cunt. The brush of coarse hair against your clit, the feel of hairy thighs sandwiched between yours as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Patrick,” You pant out as soon as he’s fully sheathed inside of you. Of course it’s Patrick, staking his claim on your body first.

“Mhmm,” His breath is hot against your ear. “You’re so smart.” The condescending tone of his voice makes your stomach do a fucking somersault. “Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight. Pussy’s trying to suck me in, isn’t she? Feels that good, huh?”

Now you understand the revolving door of Patrick’s hookups, why girls put themselves through the Sisyphean cycle of pleasure and heartbreak over and over again for him. Just his words are enough to set your body on fire. All you manage in response is a pathetic nod, an involuntary arch of your back as he slowly pulls out of your cunt, then drives back in hard. The moan that spills from your lips is unlike any sound you’ve ever heard yourself make before.

“That’s it,” he coos. “Just take it, baby. You're fuckin' made for it.” And you are— at least, it really feels like it. You feel him reposition— sit back on his knees, grab you by your hips, and fuck into your cunt nice and deep. He fucks like he doesn’t care if you’re going to cum, which is clearly untrue, given how close you are already.

When your climax hits you, it’s like it’s being pulled from some hidden depth in you— ripped from the very core of your being. Your toes curl, your cunt grips him like a vise, so tight his rhythm falters. It’s dizzying, all consuming. Intense and short-lived, like most of his relationships. Still, he fucks you through overstimulation until he pulls out and cums onto your tummy.

“Go ahead, I broke her in for you.” Patrick sounds smug, and you hear the clap of skin on skin as he slaps a hand on Art’s shoulder.

It doesn’t feel much like an experiment anymore. Not when you know when Art climbs on top of you, when you feel soft kisses peppered along your jaw. That goddamn oral fixation.

He eases your thighs apart, spreads you out for him. Art’s thighs are smooth against yours. From a distance, he looks hairless, but you can feel the soft brush of fine hair again your own thighs.

A shaky gasp escapes you as his cock glides against your cunt. Slow ruts of his hips that coat his length in your arousal and judge his tip against your clit. You can feel your pussy dripping for him, that little tease of friction and pleasure.

Art’s loud. You can hear his soft little pants and moans as he humps against your cunt, until he can’t take it anymore. “‘M gonna put it in, okay?”

You nod and let him push in nice and slow. He groans and buries his head against your neck, and you’re conscious of the brush of soft curls against your skin, of his hot breath panting against you. “You feel so good, Jesus, fuck—“

He grinds his hips into you— nice and slow, so each movement sends pleasure sparking up your nerves. You can't help but wrap your legs around his waist, heels digging in to tug him closer, deeper.

You've kissed Art before— at parties during stupid games meant to play on raging hormones and pent up sexual desire. Bottles spun that land on him, smoke shotgunned into your mouth when you're both a little crossed and can't help yourselves. But it's different then, when he smashes his lips to yours, licking hungrily into your mouth. Better when he's fucking you nice and deep, his body pressed against yours.

Art Donaldson, ever the sweetheart, the gentleman that Patrick is not. His hand moves between your thighs to toy with your oversensitive clit until you mewl. If the blindfold was off, you'd be able to see the pleased smile he wore when you cried out for him.

"I've got you," he mumbles against your mouth. His forehead presses against yours, his nose nudging softly as he moves between soft kisses and open mouthed gasps of pleasure. He swallows up every sweet noise you give him, squeezes the plush of your thigh in the hand that isn’t rubbing over your clit. Your body tenses with pleasure, arching into him and he moans as you clench around him. “Fuck—“

You want the blindfold off. You want to see Art come apart, you want to know what Patrick’s doing while he watches. You want so much more than you have in that moment. And still, Art brings you to your finish like it’s easy, like every other guy hasn’t struggled to do it before him (well, besides Patrick). You’re spent, panting, oversensitive and yet you still feel a throb of need as Art jerks himself off over you.

With the blindfold on, all you can hear is the slick sounds of his hand pumping over his cock, his whiny moans, and then you feel the shock of warm ropes of cum landing on your skin, dripping down your sensitive, swollen cunt and pooling on the sheets.

It’s only then that the blindfold is pulled off, and you can see the mess they’ve made of you. Patrick’s cum dried and smeared over your stomach and Art’s abs, Art’s cum glazing your pussy. They untie your hands and you don’t even realize until then that they’re all tingly with lack of blood flow. Patrick rubs his thumbs into your palms, trying to soothe the ache as Art scrambles to find some way to clean you up. Sweet boys, even if they try to deny it.

“So which one of us—“ Patrick begins, before Art throws the towel he used to clean you up in his face. His expression twists in annoyance, but he knows better than to ask again. He’s fine keeping it a tie… for the time being, that is.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (2)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n : aaand I just couldn't let this storyline go. Typical. Best to read part one before this one :)

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan have gotten a lot closer since the press tour for season two, but neither one has made a move. The reader is spotted with another costar, giving rise to rumours of romance.

The press tour came and went like a fever dream. From Paris to New York to London, everyone had been highly anticipating your upcoming show.

Albeit you had a minor role, it all seemed like everything you could ever wish for.

A blossoming career. Lifelong friends made from your peers. The overwhelming support from audiences.

Only two episodes have since been released to the public, and already your character has become a fan-favourite.

Sadly, you and Ewan only had that one press day together, after which you were paired with other cast members. That didn't stop the onslaught of comments under your interviews with him, fans stating how good you looked together. Speculating whether there was something going on between you two.

You are good friends, but that's all.

He calls you often, mostly in the evenings after you're both finished with work. He sticks close to you during premiere after-parties. Now and again, you would catch him looking at you from across the room.

But... well... that's all there is to that.

Maybe he's just being nice. Maybe he only sees you as a good friend, and this is just how he is. With his effortless charm and cheeky remarks that can be mistaken as flirting, you think that maybe you're reading too much into it all.

"Ewan likes you, you know," Phia looks at you over her shoulder, as she does her makeup in front of your dresser.

The cast is having a private get-together in Fabien's apartment for a night, and yourself and Phia decide to prep together, her own place only being five minutes away from yours.

"He's just being nice," you shake your head at her observation, as you sift through your closet looking for a top.

"He's not that nice to everyone," Phia laughs. "Trust me, that lad fancies you and it's plain as day. Ask anyone, I mean, Tom even pointed it out the other day."

"And Ewan was there with you guys?"

"Uh-huh," Phia swivels her chair around, all done, nodding at you, "Poor sod just about turned red as a beet."

"What did he say?" you ask, not even bothering to hide your curiosity. Phia's got your back, after all.

"Well..." Phia glanced away, weighing just how much she is at liberty to say. Ewan's her friend just as much as you are, and she doesn't know how deep she can meddle in this.

"How bad is it?"

"Nothing bad, promise," Phia walks over, then takes over the task of sorting through your closet, "He likes you. A lot. But it seems like he's apprehensive about jumping into a relationship right now."

You plop down on your bed in a huff, "I guess that makes sense."

"Chin up, darling," Phia turns around, arms folded behind her, concealing her chosen top for you. "You're both rising stars, with great careers ahead of you. If you're going to commit to each other, you're gonna have to do it right."

You smile, because you can't help it, the high from landing your dream career not yet subsiding.

"And," Phia continues, "even if he's too chicken to make a move, that doesn't mean you can't torture him with this." She grins, presenting a green satin top, the material weightless and shimmering.

"This? Are you sure?" It was definitely revealing, and it would have your back exposed, only tied together by two strings.

"Ewan loves green," she hands it to you, and you hold it up with concern etched in your features.

"I guess I could wear this," you mumble.

"Oh, you will wear it," Phia smirks, pushing you over to your bathroom so you can get changed.

Already wearing your trusty pair of bootcut jeans, you shimmy into the slinky top, calling out to Phia so she can assist with securing the strings at your back.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," she beams at you in your bathroom mirror. "Ewan is going to melt at the sight of you, doll."

"Huh," you say, checking yourself out in the reflection. "Okay then, I think we're ready - "

Your phone rings, cutting you off. Phia beats you to it, and her face is scandalous when she raises your phone up like it's precious evidence.

Ewan's name flashes bright on the screen.

"Oh, look who it is!" Phia practically sings, "Lover boy."

"Give me that," you demand, reaching for your phone, but Phia quickly sidesteps you and presses the screen to answer the call.

You gasp, and the both of you struggle to keep down an incoming fit of giggles. Phia then clicks on the speaker mode, and Ewan can be heard saying your name, his tone a bit confused.

"Are you there?" Ewan asks.

"Yeah, I'm here," you take the phone, waving to Phia so she doesn't make a fuss.

"Hmm," he says. "I hope I'll be seeing you tonight. The party won't be as good without you."

"Well, Phia and I just finished getting ready," you glance at her, and she makes a kissy face at you.

"Hello, Mr. Whipped," she playfully cuts in with this greeting, effectively letting Ewan know he's on speaker.

You hear Ewan snort on the other end, before he says, "Hello to you too, Phi."

"We should be heading out in 15 minutes, and we'll be there on time," you let him know.

"Okay, I suppose I'll see you guys there," he replies.

"Okay." A beat of silence passes, and Phia just shrugs at you.

"I, uh - " he finally speaks up again, but hesitates.

"Yeah?"

He clears his throat, having decided on saying, "Nevermind. See you soon, darling."

The line cuts off. You slowly let your hand fall to the side, sighing at how it abruptly ended. Shaking off your worries, you look at Phia once more, and she already has her line all prepared. "See you soon, darling," she recites in a low voice, imitating Ewan.

"Oh, shush," you shove her playfully, and she shoves you right back.

"I can't wait to see you, darling," she continues teasing you, laughing, and you can't help but blush and smile, finding her endearing.

"Well, let's go," she says, picking up her things, "your darling boy of Derby awaits."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Fabien greets you at the door with that perfect smile of his, arms outstretched to pull you and Phia into a hug.

"Welcome, welcome," he greets, leading you into his apartment, where most of the cast is already assembled, including Ewan.

You happily exchange pleasantries with everyone. Chatting with Emma and Olivia. Profusely thanking Matt when he gushes over your outfit. Catching up with Harry and Bethany. All the while sensing that Ewan watches you from somewhere in the room.

You're eventually directed by Tom to the corner table where Ewan and Phia share a loveseat, drinks in hand.

"I'll get you a drink," Tom kindly declares, heading to the kitchen.

"Thanks, Tom," you say. You sit next to Phia, leaving her between yourself and Ewan. You finally say to him, "Hey, you. How are you doing? Got here early?"

Ewan's jaw clenches and loosens, and you catch his eyes quickly drift down to rake over your figure. When he meets your eyes again, his pupils are considerably dilated.

The boy just shamelessly checked you out.

"Ewan," you hear Phia say, elbowing Ewan from beside him. "She just asked you a question, be polite." She wags her eyebrows at you, mouthing the words lover boy.

Ewan hears that, astute as he is, and it snaps him out of whatever haze he seemed to be stuck in.

He shakes his head at himself, offering a smile to you. "I got here just before you guys," he answers. His voice lowers when he adds, "You look really good, darling."

You smile in return. "Thanks. So do you."

Phia beams at the exchange, then makes some excuse of having to catch up with the others. The look she gives you before sliding off the seat reveals that she just wanted to give her two lovebirds some privacy.

"So," Ewan inches closer to you, his arm outstretched on the back of the seat, "how did the script turn out?"

"It was better than expected," you say. He refers to a script you told him about a week ago, for a potential project which will shoot in Atlanta in the fall. "I'm supposed to meet with the director pretty soon to discuss it further, but I think it might be the right fit."

"That's amazing," he expresses sincerely. "Rian Johnson's a brilliant director and they would be lucky to have you as their lead."

"Thanks, Ewan! Yeah, I'm really excited for it, it's a lot different from House of the Dragon, but I'm all in for the challenge, you know."

"Is it a drama film, or thriller, or - "

"Oh, it's a rom-com, actually."

"Oh," he nods, leaning back a little, like that needed a bit of processing. "And you'll have a romantic co-lead..."

"That's right, and - " you confirm.

He smirks, like he just thought of something amusing. "Well, maybe I could - "

But you finish your statement then, " - I think Jacob Elordi has just been selected as my partner in the film."

His face scrunches in apparent distaste, "Has he now?"

"Mhmm." You note the switches in his expression, how his face fell when you mentioned your upcoming co-star. He can't have something against Jacob; they already did a film together and it seemed like it went well on set.

That thing nags at you, that little spring of vanity and desire creating warmth in your stomach. That Ewan might be jealous.

Which is ridiculous, given your shared line of work. Besides, you were not together. What could he possibly be jealous over?

"You've worked with him, right? What's he like?" you continue the topic, keeping watch for the minutiae of his reactions.

"He's... he's a good actor, I guess. Dedicated and all that. Pleasant on set." His answer is curt, not giving away any details, tone flat like he's disinterested.

"Riiight," you nod slowly, smiling impishly at him to get him to lighten up, "I'm sure he'll be just as pleasant on our set then. Good to know."

He catches the look you're giving him, causing the corner of his lips to pull in a soft crooked smile. "Hmm, be that as it may... I think I'll do a much better job as your love interest, don't you?"

"Oh, will you now?" you lean forward, and he does the same.

"Yeah, didn't you hear?" he whispers conspiratorially, like there's a secret to be shared. "According to the internet, we have a lot of chemistry. Practically oozing with it, based on some comments I read."

"You've been lurking on comments? You? The last crusader against all social media?" you joke, fully knowing that he keeps a few shadow accounts just to keep up with how his work is being received by the public.

"Sure," he shrugs his shouders dramatically, " that, and also to stalk your page, of course."

"Oh, of course," you quip, "I wouldn't expect anything less."

You share another laugh, feeling light all over, and even lighter when his fingertips brush against your arm for a few seconds. Goosebumps erupt on your skin, and you sneakily rub your arms to cover the effect he had on you.

Tom reappears from the side, handing you a drink as promised, "What are you kids giggling about over here?"

"Nothing," you share, "just that Ewan is planning to join Instagram."

"A damn miracle, that!" Tom exclaims, lightly punching Ewan in the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," Ewan looks at you warmly, playing along, "you can be in charge of keeping my account running."

"Tough job. All those fan messages I'll have to answer."

"Yeah, you'll have to quit your day job," Tom adds jokingly. "It was fun while it lasted. The industry will miss you."

You feel a pressure by your shoulders, and notice that it's Ewan's arm snug behind you on the seat. In the midst of conversation, he must have drawn even closer. You glance down briefly and see his knees touching yours.

You nervously take a huge gulp of your drink. There is no hiding the effect he has on you now.

"Don't you two look cute?" Tom comments, then he stands right in front of the loveseat and puts his phone up. Before you can say anything, a clicking sound makes it clear that he has taken a photo of you and Ewan.

"Awww, I ship it," Tom gushes afterward as he looks at the photo. He then reaches over and passes his phone to you.

The image betrays what the both of you are probably struggling to hide - it's there, clear as day. The attraction, the tension, the chemistry. Ewan practically has his arm around you, looking at you intensely with the inscrutable spark in his eyes. His teeth lightly clamping down on his lip in desire.

There's a subtle scrunch between your eyebrows as you return Ewan's look, a result of trying to maintain composure when he is so close. But your posture is relaxed, almost cozying right up against him, showing just how comfortable you feel around him.

As Tom just said, you ship it.

If only.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Two weeks after the party at Fabien's, the main cast members of House of the Dragon are engaged in an additional round of promo work. Season two is at its peak, and the media is just clamoring to get more from the cast.

Some are booked for photoshoots, others for interviews.

While a minor character in the show, they also wanted you to take part in engaging with the press, but you are already busy with your upcoming film with Jacob. You're currently out in LA, doing rehearsals in preparation for the actual shoot.

Ewan is yet again lounging in a hotel suite, about to do an interview with Vanity Fair.

He sends you a text, in response to your complaint about a difficult scene.

You had shared, It's a pretty dramatic scene. What if I can't cry on command?

He easily texts back, You can do it, darling. Trust me, you're one of the most talented young actors I know.

- Thanks, Ewan. Good luck with your interview!

- Thank you, good luck with rehearsal. I miss --

Ewan pauses typing. I miss you, he aches to send. He does miss you so much. Why can't he just commit to it?

He ends up sending, I'll see you soon, in its place.

He knows he wants to do everything with you. Take you out on dates. Sweep you off your feet. Travel to wherever you will be filming just to see you. Confess how much he wants you.

Why can't he? It's terrifying to him, being with someone, in danger of falling in love - truly falling in love - with a fellow actor, and that relationship exposed to much public scrutiny.

He's always been a private person, so will he be able to handle all of that? Acting is his first love, and he's devoted to the craft. If he succumbs to his desire for you, will that cause him to go off track?

What if the relationship is not well-received? He is aware of how passionate fans can be. What if they cruelly decide to make you the object of their ire as a result? He can't possibly put you through that.

But... but fuck it.

The Aemond in him turns proud and defiant. Why can't he? Why shouldn't he?

He types another message in a second, then clicks send.

And I miss you.

His publicist walks over to him, giving him a few last-minute instructions. In a few minutes, the room is all composed and the interview is ready to begin.

The line of questioning has almost become routine-like for him, a far cry from when he first started giving shorter interviews for previous projects.

The answers flow from him smoothly, stemming from his care for Aemond and the show.

Near the end of the interview, he is asked about the remaining normalcy of his life. Surely it has all changed ever since he landed the show?

"Well, I try to go back to my hometown as much as possible. Just, you know, spending time where I grew up really helps maintain a sense of normal, for me," he responds. "It keeps my feet planted on the ground, that is, when I'm not on dragonback flying high up in the clouds."

The interviewer promptly laughs at his last remark, then asks, "What's next for you? Your fans are just eagerly awaiting your next project. Maybe a film like your new costar? Everyone is excited for her film with Jacob Elordi."

Ewan can't hide the way he perks up at the mention of you, never mind how Jacob is included too. "Ah, yes, well there are some things down the line for me. More than anything, I want to choose a project that I am passionate about, with a story and a character that is rich and complex. Whichever that is, I guess you'll find out soon!"

"Yes, yes, we will!"

"And about her project, I mean, I'm just so proud of her. We've become really close and I think she's a fantastic actress and person. She's going to smash it in this film, that's for sure."

The interviewer nods enthusiastically, smirking as he adds, "Apparently a bit of romance on the cards for her as well!"

"You mean in the movie?" Ewan replies, half-smiling in confusion. But he spies his publicist gesturing to the interviewer from behind the camera, a signal that private affairs are off-limits.

After a final question, the interview wraps up.

His publicist grumbles to him afterward, as they prepare to leave the room. "It was clear that no private questions are allowed. Sorry about that, Ewan."

"It's alright, that was... well, what was he on about? Did he mean romance between the two of us?"

"I believe he's talking about Jacob and her. They were spotted out in LA today. The interviewer probably just wanted you to spill some dirt on your costar."

Ewan frowns, "What do mean they were spotted?"

His publicist appears surprised at his question, and his obvious interest. "They've been papped walking arm in arm in LA. Seemed pretty close, not that it's any of that interviewer's business."

As they walk out of the hotel, Ewan can't help but do an immediate Google search of your name, and sure enough, the headlines about your walk with Jacob are abound.

He can't pinpoint how he feels as he sees the photos, the statuesque Jacob with his arm around you as you beam up at him. He notices that his grip on his phone has tightened, so he turns it off quickly and shoves it in his pocket.

Whatever this is, and how it makes him feel, he doesn't like it. He doesn't like it one bit.

His phone vibrates from his pocket, but he ignores it.

So he doesn't yet see your reply.

I miss you too.

💌 next chapter

Ewaaaan! Make a move, my guy!

As much as we'd like to see them make declarations of love or get into the passion quick, I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. How would two young actors begin dating? Reader, kudos to you for keeping it cool as a cucumber thus far - it's up to Ewan to make the big move.

Part three may be the last. What'll they be? Just friends? PR relationship? Notorious fling? Or new celebrity power couple?

MASSIVE thanks for all the lovely feedback for part one! 💙

Update: if you wish to be tagged in part three, let me know in the comments 💌

[deansapplepie]

daryl vanilla sex 🫣

Sex Deck

Summary: You’re having a dinner with one of your closest friends, and you just bought a deck of cards from Princess which is to play a friendly game. You just didn’t know the deck wasn’t friendly at all.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, sex, talks about sex, a sex deck, smut, virgin reader, virginity loss, age gap (but reader is probably around her late 20s/ early 30s), p in v, fingering, oral (female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex (you know better than this kids), bad written smut, etc. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+.

Word Count: 5,4 k

A/N: this was a request for Vanilla sex with Daryl and as I had never written anything virgin reader related, I thought it was a good time to try it. This is not proofread, I have been writing it for months already. Started in Colombia and finished writing in Brazil. My summary sucks. I hope this goes with the expectations of the person who requested and all of you can enjoy it.

You had invited Daryl to your house that night, you’d make burgers and you’d drink beer. You had found a card game in a store in the Commonwealth, you were told to play with friends at parties. So you thought, why not? When the outbreak happened you were very young and didn’t have the opportunity to party like other people.

You stayed for some years with a group, but your life really changed when you found Alexandria. You were alone, you had just lost your family and most people thought you were crazy when you talked about a weird herd of Walkers that seemed to be intelligent, until it started happening to all of them.

You made friends, between them Daryl Dixon and now that you were in the comfort of Commonwealth you weren’t changing that. When the bell of your small apartment rang, you knew it was him. When you opened the door and he saw you he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “A dress? Never saw ya wearing a dress” he observed, you were always wearing jeans and boots.

“Well, now that we’re relatively safe I can wear a dress and be comfortable at home. You should try.” You said.

“Wearing a dress? Nah, thank you. It’s not ma style.” He joked while entering the apartment.

“Being comfortable asshole…” you answered closing the door behind you and heading back ti the kitchen where you were finishing the preparatives for the burgers.

“I thought ya were joking about the burgers.” He observed leaning on the counter.

“I’d never joke about it, I’m really trying to do my best with what we have. It will be nice of it tastes like in the old days.” You finished chopping some vegetables while the burgers finished grilling. “I really liked those kind of food.”

“I wasn’t one for it… to be honest didn’t have the opportunity to eat it many times.” Daryl confessed, a little embarrassed, sometimes he forgot how different his experiences could be from other people’s, especially you, you were younger than him and it bothered him in more ways than he would like to admit.

“It’s ok. Nothing wrong with that. I hope you enjoy mine, well… I hope I also enjoy it, we have more access to things here but it’s still limited.” You finished setting the burgers with vegetables and the bread. “I think it’s ready.”

You ate The hamburger contently, it was delicious even with the limited ingredients you had. Daryl devoured it, for him it was the best burger he had ever ate in his life and he was kinda old so it had to mean something

When you both finished eating you sat on your sofa, beers in hand and you took the pile of cards you had bought earlier. “Look, I got this cards with some questions and challenges for friends to play.” You said excitedly. “It’s gonna be nice, I didn’t have the opportunity to play it before the world ended.”

“Oh yeah? I never hear about it, not popular around my time I guess.” He observed.

You took the cards from your bag, you hadn’t really looked at them before and they looked beautiful, a little aged but the red hearts on the back of the cards were really pretty.

“How’s that played?” He asked observing the cards, he had a weird feeling about it.

“I don’t know, there was no instructions and I never played it. Let’s just take a card at a time, we read it and we both answer, maybe the challenge we tell the other to do?” You had no idea what to do, your time to be a “kid” and mess around had stayed on the past and you couldn’t live it.

“Okay.” He agreed, you put the cards between you too.

“Since, I’m a nice person, you can take the first one.” You said before taking a sip from your beer, damn was this expired or was it just bad?

He didn’t believe he was really playing a silly game with you. If it was some years ago, he would have rolled his eyes at you, said some shit and telling you to forget it. But he couldn’t it was you, the one that caught his eyes immediately when he returned to Alexandria during the period he was away and had that gentle smile for him. The one that brought a smile to the corner of his mouth while playing with little Judith. The one that prepared delicious different food and shared with him. The one that started to visit him by the river to take supplies, kind words and silly toys for his dog.

“Nice person…” he snorted, he knew you were afraid of what could be the first card and let him do the job. He extended his hand and took the first card. He furrowed his browns when he read the question.

“What’s it?” You asked curiously.

He wasn’t really sure how this kind of question was in a deck of a game for friends, but times were changing so he decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. “Ugh… how was yer first time?”

As soon as the question left his lips he instantly blushed and you almost choked on your beer. “What?”

“That’s the question.” He passed you the card so you could read. “Well, maybe this is something friends should talk openly… I dunno.”

“Er… maybe… you should start then. You took the card.” You threw the bomb right back at him.

He cleared his throat, it was difficult to talk about the theme even with Carol that was his old friend, talking it with you felt like sin. “It was weird, I was young the girl was older than me… I dunno.” He felt just like a teenage boy at that moment, when he was far from being one. “Yer turn.”

“Hmm…” what could you possibly say, he had had a bad experience but it was better than… “I… I can’t answer that.”

“Come on, I answered it.” He told you nudging your leg with his.

“I… it’s not that I don’t want to answer it. I really can’t. I never did it.” You finally answered the question, now the terrible beer looking very interesting.

He cleared his throat. He was half shoked and half embarassed. It was impressive a lady your age that had never experienced the delights of life, but he also could feel how it was embarassing for you having to tell that to a man. “Ok, let’s take another card.”

He reached for the deck and completely ignored it was your time. His eyes popped when he saw the next card, it was a challenge. “Why?” He asked instead.

‘The next question can’t be why’, you thought. That was weird. “That can’t be the next question Daryl. You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not, it’s the next question.” He lied and it was clear it was a lie, but you answered, it was him after all.

“I was young when the world ended, not very popular before. So yeah. That’s why.” You answered.

As soon as you finished answering you reached to take a card, but he was faster than you and took another one.

“In case you don’t know we should take turns to take the cards.” You complained.

“Ya never explained the rules sweetheart, in fact ya didn’t even know them. Next question…” He looked at the next card and… what the fuck in the fuckering fucks was this deck? Because for sure it wasn’t a deck for friends to enjoy. “How would be your ideal first time?”

What the hell was this questions? He couldn’t be reading the cards. He was messing with you for sure. “In a bed!?” You answered the obvious. “It can’t be the real question, you’re messing up with me. Give those cards, I wanna read them.”

“I ain’t giving you shit.” He answered and you could just think he was being a prick.

You tried to reach it, leaning your self in his direction, extending your arms and hands. It was a lost cause, he was bigger than you taller than you, he extended his arm in the opposite direction. You were practically on his lap trying to reach the pieces of paper in his hands when you lost your balance and fell sitting right into him.

“Who sold this deck of cards to ya?” He asked, now holding you in place.

“Why?” You could have answered, but now you were a little angry at him for not letting you read the cards.

“Who sold ya this?” He asked again, firmly.

“Princess, she told me it was a friends game and we would have fun.” You explained. Damn, he couldn’t beat her ass…

“Ya didn’t even took a look at this, did ya?

“No, I was in a hurry and I just took it. I was happy we would have something different to do.” You answered.

“Hmm…” he hummed, his fingers delicately tracing forms on your arm and waist. “Read them.” He gave you the 2 last cards he had took from the deck.

‘Challenge: Kiss your partner’s ear.’

‘Question: Would you do a threeway?’

You almost choked when you read the cards. What were these? You took the rest of the deck and couldn’t believe on all the things you were reading. Princess had sold you a Sex Deck or something. “I… I didn’t know.”

“I know. Now, my questions were better, weren’t they?”

“They weren’t more innocent.” You observed.

“Hm…” he didn’t released the hold on you, you didn’t move to leave. “But how would you like it be?”

‘With you’, you thought. You didn’t have the courage to voice it so openly. “In a comfortable place probably, so in my bed. With a person I trust, older probably…”

Older… did you have anyone in mind? Who did you know that was older than you and you trust? He started to make a list of people on his mind.

“Do ya have anyone in mind?” Very subtle Daryl. Very subtle.

“I…” You took a quick glance at him. Why did he keep doing this questions? And why did you keep answering them? “Older, tall, broad shoulders, a provider and protector, probably someone that can hunt…” Fuck you were describing him, was it too obvious? Damn everything. You looked at him. “Medium length wavy brown hair, blue eyes, serious, sometimes let out a cute smile…”

Was it possible that his heart stopped? Because he felt like it. Were you really describing him? Or maybe there was someone with those same characteristics that you liked? “Do I know that guy?”

“I’d say yes…”blush. Blush. Blush. Avert his eyes. That was it, you could lose everything. Which means him, but you had put yourself in this situation even if by mistake. “I’m talking about you.”

Silence.

Silence in the room. But not on both of your heads that were now pure chaos and inner screaming. “D’ya mean that?”

“Only if it’s not ruining things between us.” You were already regretting all of that.

“Nothing could ever ruin things between us.” Daryl said, if he thought his heart had stopped beating before, it was working on full force right now. Specially with you still so close and sitting on his lap. “Can I kiss ya?”

“Yeah…” You whispered as if you spoke any louder something would break.

Silence again. This time with expectation. He neared his face to yours and you held your breath. His lips grazed over yours, you wanted it for so long… you wanted him since you saw him entering the gates of Alexandria, Jude on his arms after rescuing her with Michonne.

The hesitation in him made you close the smallest of the gaps there were between you and pressed your lips against his. That awoke him and his lips started moving with yours. He first took his time knowing your lips, gods… did he want to do that for a long time already. Not even in his wildest dreams he could imagine it would come true. You opened your mouth slightly giving him access to your mouth, you could now savor his taste like you imagined many many times before. One of his hands locked fingers with your hair near your nape, the other holding one of your thighs. You tangled your arms around his neck, one hand caressing his brown locks.

You wanted him closer, you needed him. He needed you closer, he wanted you. There was no way you could be closer than this… unless he was inside of you. At the same time Daryl was lost in his mind he came back to his senses and slowly broke your kiss. “We shouldn’t do that. Ya drank.”

“I didn’t even drink half of the bottle, Daryl. This beer is horrible. I’ve wanted you for nearly 6 years, I don’t think I’m stopping any moment soon.” You looked at his face, your eyes buried deep inside of his. “If you want me, I want you.”

“I dun know if I know how to be delicate.” He said, ironically, caressing your face delicately. Damn, you’ve wanted him basically for the same amount of time he has wanted you.

“I don’t mind as long as it’s you” you answered. “I know you’re gonna try.”

“I’ve wanted ya for a long time, sweetheart.” He gave you a kiss on your cheek. And another. He descended his kisses to your jaw, he went up kissing under your ear, your earlobe… getting a mix of a squeal and a moan from you.

You were still sitting across his lap, his right hand made his way up your thighs lifting the dress you had on. He licked, kissed and bit your neck when his hand found your clothed pretty much wet pussy. “Ya’re so wet, sweetheart…” An open mouthed kiss on your neck. “Have you ever touched yourself?” He nibbled your skin.

“I’m a virgin, not a saint Daryl.” You were as sassy as you could while the man melted you into a pool. He put your panties aside, his fingers finally meeting your heat.

“And what do ya think about when ya do so?” He wanted to ask who you thought about. He wanted to ask if you thought about him.

“I think about…” He pressed your clit making you gasp. “…about you, touching me, fu-fucking me.”

His fingers ran through your folds while his thumb pressured your clit caressing it in circles. Moans escaping your lips as jolts of pleasure ran through your body. “Daryl… kiss me, please”

“What a cute needy thing ya’re…” He said his lips already covering yours. He teased your entrance with his index finger while still playing with your bundle of nerves. When his finger entered you, you held him strongly, it was a weird sensation his finger inside of you, but as he kept moving it inside of you, kissed you and pressed your clit, it passed and all you could think about was about the pleasure he was making you feel. Your moans were muffled by his kisses and your hips bucked against his hand. Fuck, your fingers could never do it so good like him.

He broke the kiss, but his fingers never stopped. Your walls clenched around his finger while he added a second one. You gasped, you moaned… a different sensation. “Daryl…”

“It’s ok, baby…” he whispered in a soothing way, while still working on you feeling you contracting against his fingers. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah… does…” You didn’t even had words anymore, you just wanted to give in to the feelings.

“Yer so pretty like this, totally surrendered…” He whispered on your ear, his raspy voice sending tingles through your body, his fingers pressing all the right places over and over again. “Do ya wanna let go sweetheart? Let it go, let me see that pretty face of yours when ya cum.”

You never believed someone could cum because a person told them to. But there you were throwing your head and arching your back in pure ecstasy after hearing the words from Daryl’s lips. You felt like you were floating, your head a dizzy mess that no alcohol would be able to do something similar. Your body trembled while your walls contracted against his fingers. Your hands in fists on his shirt, while you waited that euphoric wave to subdue.

“Daryl…” You hid your face on his neck, your nose caressing his skin and your breath sending chills all over him.

“Ya good sweetheart?” He asked, his free hand now roaming your back.

“Yeah, super good…” You answered.

“Do ya want to continue?” Gosh? He really wanted to keep going, but it was you and he had to be a gentleman even if he thought he was the farthest thing from it.

“This isn’t even a question Daryl, the answer is yes. Always going to be yes.” Your hands went to both sides of his face and you pressed your lips against his one more time, needier, hungrier, eagerly… You could get used to it, kissing him, you’d have to. He was now prohibited on not kissing you, you needed his kisses like a fish needed water.

He reciprocated, of course he reciprocated, if he was living the dream he was going to leave it properly. The hand that touched you just a few minutes before went under your legs and got up with you on his arms and walked in your bedroom's direction. You had said you wanted a bed, hadn’t you?

Your feet landed softly on the floor, but you didn’t break the kiss, your arms tangled around his neck trying to bring him closer into you. His hands traveled down your body finding their rest on your butt, he had looked at them before, but touching… he tugged at the hem of your dress bringing it up your middle, your breasts just to painfully break the kiss and take it off by your head.

“Yer too damn beautiful sweetheart…” He said taking you in.

“You’re making me shy, Daryl” You said your fingers battling with the buttons of his shirt while your eyes were fixed on his face, the way he looked at you, he hasn’t done it before.

“Ya shy? The one who bought the sex cards…” he teased you, that same look on his face but a smirk on his lips.

“You know I was fooled into buying it.” You answered. “Wouldn’t buy if knew it.”

“And we probably wouldn’t be here now.”

“Probably not.” You took his shirt off revealing his torso, he was handsome. All those scars had a story which made him who he was. His manly body, his small fluffy stomach… you wanted to lick him.

He captured your lips with his one more time and guided you to the bed getting you sat and kneeling between your legs. His hands went up your back and opened your bra with an easiness that you wondered if you should be concerned, he slid it off and soon his hands were engulfing them.

Your hands touched his abdomen with such delicacy that he thought he was in heaven, your fingers ran up and down and to the sides. Casually brushing on the hem of his pants. You undid his belt while sweet moans escaped into his mouth. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and your hands were going incredibly south.

“Take it easy, baby. Today’s ‘bout ya.” His hands that played with your nipples went lower touching your curves and ending on each side of your panties. “And I’m still taking care of ya.”

“Is it prohibited to touch you, or something?” You asked, your hands tentatively half the way to hover his aching cock still protected by his boxers.

“Absolutely not, just… don’t feel obligated to, I wanna this be good for ya, right?” He prohibiting you from touching him? he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him, he’d be completely at your mercy, that is if that night wasn’t the very night he was introducing you to the practice. Then he tugged lightly on each side of your panties and asked you “is it okay if I take these out?”

“Yes, it is. Daryl, I give you consent for everything, so please just do it.” You said. It was cute him being so careful and asking you all the way through, but damn you trusted this man with your life, he could do everything he wanted to you.

“Eager, are we?” He teased you one more time, before sliding your panties down your legs and take a good look at you. “We did a pretty mess here, didn’t we?”

His hands went up and down your legs stopping on your thighs, he lowered his face to kiss your inner thighs, starting right where your knees started and going real close to your core that was aching for him. Just to go back and start the same process with the other side. The sounds that came out of your mouth were sweet and gave him the fuel he needed to keep going.

His facial hair was tickling you and adding to the pleasurable sensations going through your body, at the same time you sighed with bliss you giggled with it. That was till the moment his lips made contact with your pussy, at first a small kiss on your clit, then an open mouth kiss to your center. You gasped, you trembled, you bucked against him.

Instinctively your hand went to rest on his head, your fingers finding his brown locks. He didn’t complained, he just grunted while he made out with your pussy. “Oh, Daryl…” you had no words to say, only moans and his name.

He took one of your legs and put it on his shoulder. “Scoot over, sweetheart.” As he commanded you did, moving yourself up in the bed while his face was buried between your thighs. “Lay down and just enjoy, darling”.

You did as he said, at this moment you’d do anything he asked. If he told you to jump from a bridge, you’d jump from the damn bridge. You mewled as you felt his tongue all over you.

He moved his lips to suck at your clit making your hips buck into his face, with one hand holding on your thigh, he took the other right at your heat again. This time when his finger entered your warm sweet cave it didn’t feel foreign anymore, it felt familiar as if it belonged there. Your fingers massaged his scalp while you whimpered at his stimulation. As his fingers curved inside of you and hit that spot, you contracted against him, a signal you were close.

He got more engaged on his ministrations, he wanted you to reach your peek one more time. He wanted your juices all over his face. Gods! He wanted you well prepared for when he finally put his dick where it belonged, inside of you. When you came, you came harder than the first time, a mess of moans of his name and little cries of pleasure. Of course you weren’t aware of it, you were too lost in the bliss.

He helped you through your high, till it passed. He got his head up from between your folds, his face glistening with your cum. He squeezed your thighs seeing you didn’t seem to be back yo this world. “Ya there sweetheart?”

His voice brought you back to reality. “I’m here.”, you finally answered he crawled the bed to look in your face, his knew and thigh between your legs.

“Ya’re doing so well, baby.”, he said right before kissing you slowly and sweet, the taste of you inside his mouth mixing with the flavor of your mouths. Your hands traveling from his head, to his neck and shoulders, sliding down his arms and finding it’s way down his chest. Your hand finally palming him over the fabric of his boxers. He hissed, the feeling too much for him to take. Your pretty little hands weren’t even touching his skin and he felt his control slipping through his fingers. Damn he was feeling like a teenager, he’d cum right there if he didn’t took control over again.

You slid your hand inside bringing him outside, your hand slowly going up and down on his skin. He tried to hold on, keep composed, you were exploring and he was loving every minute of it, he had to let you before taking control again. Your hand moved from the base to the tip of his dick, delicate and precise. “Darling, I can’t let you keep with it… I’ll not be able to hold it if you continue.”

While you did it you analyzed it, it was big, tick and veiny. It was beautiful and glorious, you wondered how would it be to have it inside of you.. you even wondered how it would be to do other things with it, like putting it in your mouth. “Sorry, just wanted to feel it…” you managed to say, almost pouting.

“Sweetheart, don’t be sorry. Do you have any idea for how long I wanted you? I’m… so excited that I’m losing control.” He confessed, it was cute, you let go of it and took your hands back to his face and neck.

“It’s ok, I share the same feeling. That’s why I couldn’t help myself.” You confessed looking into his eyes, raising your head to peck on his lips. “You can have me Daryl…”

“If ya ever want to stop, just let me know, al’ight?” He said, eyes on yours, noses brushing.

“It’s ok.” You answered capturing his lips in yours right after and closing your eyes.

You kissed slowly, tenderly and intensely. Both of you shifting your bodies into more comfortable positions while doing so. He stopped the kiss, giving your lips some pecks before speaking. “It’s not gonna be like my fingers, are ya ready?”

“Yes, please.” You looked at his blue eyes and felt he was more worried than you. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he knew that was the only way of doing it, the only way for your first time. At least he had tried preparing you, he didn’t know of it was going to work, he never had a woman that hadn’t experienced it before. “It’s gonna be ok, Daryl…”

“Ok, love…” the words rolled from his lips easily before he could notice them.

He kissed you again, passionately, his hands traveling down your body. He took a handful of your thighs pressing your body more against his, you could feel his hardness pretty much alive rubbing against your sensitive folds. He stopped the kissing again, looking at your eyes and you nodded as if you said ‘yes, do it. Let’s start.’.

He pumped his cock, spreading your moisture on it before positioning it at your entrance. He pressed it against you, slowly trying to make his way in, to break the barriers and do what both of you wanted. He pushed himself inside little by little, the stretch felt like too much to start with it, but you held yourself like a big girl and when he finally broke that barrier the stretch was nothing compared to the burning sensation you felt down there, tears automatically coming to your eyes. “Definitely not your fingers…”, you wanted it to be a joke, but sounded more like a complaint.

“Wanna stop baby?” He asked hands caressing your face and hair. You shook your head unable to answer. He kissed the tears from your face, one of his hands traveling down to your clit, rubbing and pressing it in hopes the pain you felt would go away. “Whenever you’re ready to continue sweetheart.” He said kissing your neck.

As he pressed and rubbed your clit the pain started to subdue and you started to feel mote pf him and the jolts of pleasure being sent throughout your body. The way your walls contracted around him a signal your body was now accepting him. “I’m ready…” you said when he could continue and he continued to move until he bottomed out, not very difficult with all the slickness inside of you.

When he finished going all the way in, you let out a moan while he grunted. He started moving slowly, not going out too much. You braced yourself on him, your arms going around him and your hands soothingly slipping on his skin. He increased the speed in small portions, never going too fast, but now going almost the way out just to go back again.

You felt in a very sensual dance with him, the way his body moved against yours and the way your body responded to his as if you were in sink. Sighs and moans left your lips, making a symphony he so much enjoyed. “Sweetheart, ya feel so good… so tight. Ya’re doing so well.”

He kept on caressing your head, his fingers moving on your hair, his eyes never leaving yours recording in his memory every reaction he saw in you.

“Oh , Daryl… please…” Even in a heated moment like this, he thought you were so cute.

“Please what, baby? What do ya want?” He nuzzled your neck, his voice hoarser from lust.

“More, I want more… please…” You pleaded by his ear, so driven by him that you just wanted more of whatever he could offer you.

“As ya wish sweetheart” He didn’t increase his speed, but increased his precision looking for that spongy place inside of you that would make you see starts. When he hit it for the first time yesterday you moaned/screamed at the feeling huge if compared to his fingers doing the exact same thing.

After it he continued trying hit it over and y again, his fingers drawing circles on your bundle of nerves. You a complete mess, surrendered to him, closer and closer to your sweet destination as your walls spasmed around him. “Are ya close, love? It’s ok, ya can cum… I’ll go right after ya.”

With a few more trusts of him, you came messy and hard, your vision getting white as your body convulsed held by him. He kept trusting inside you and as your walls held him so tightly, he got to same place as you. Ridding both your highs for as long as he could.

His body collapsed on top of you, the crushing sensation of his body over you making you feel safe and protected. Both your breaths trying to regulate your fingers massaging his scalp and running on his hair while his mouth couldn’t help but press little soft kisses on the skin on your shoulder. When both of you had calmed down, he propped himself to look at you. “Are you ok? How do ya feel?”

“I’m perfectly fine.” You said looking at his face. “It was so good. Thank you…”

“Sweetheart, don’t have to thank me for that.” Gods, he was the one that need to be thankful. “I guess it’s time we take care of ya.”

He pulled out of you, immediately regretting and missing your warm walls. He went through your things looking for a towel he could use and found a small one. He returned to find you sprawled on bed with both of your cums and a little bit of blood, leaking from you. “Damn… I could get used to this view.” He didn’t think before speaking.

“You can get used to this.” You said, he could see it everyday if he wanted to.

He used the towel to clean you and afterwards the bed. When he finished taking care of you, he laid by your side, covering your bodies under a comfy blanket. You laid your head on his chest while he held you in his arms and you could listen to his heartbeat.

“I was serious when I said you could get used to this. You could have this everyday if it depends on me.”

His heart skipped a beat or two listening to your words. If you wanted him, he would have you like this everyday. Instead of letting his past insecurities overcome him, he decided now was the perfect time to use that sassy remark you threw at him earlier. “Will ya show me how you’re not a saint in the next times?”

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998 @vaniniweenie @cupidelocke @avabh12 @whore4romance @dixondystopia @dixons-sunshine @bigbaldheadname @negansbestie @gabriella-aesthetic @fluffy-dixon @lunajay33

[wendichester]

𐙚｡⋆ 𖦹 .✧˚ chained reaction,

summary. a curse tied you to dean and the resolution is... messy.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 576

The chain glints in the dim light of the bunker, its cold weight resting between you and Dean. The cursed artifact—an ancient, rusted shackle adorned with strange runes—had snapped onto both your wrists mid-hunt, leaving you tethered by three feet of unyielding chain.

“I still don’t understand how this happened,” you mutter, glaring at the chain as you tug futilely against it.

Dean’s jaw clenches as he paces, the chain jingling with every step. “I picked up the damn thing to examine it. How the hell was I supposed to know it’d latch onto us like a damn trap?”

“Because it’s cursed,” you snap. “We’re hunters, Dean. Isn’t not touching cursed objects the first rule?”

Dean stops pacing and glares at you, his green eyes dark with frustration. “Oh, I’m sorry, princess. Maybe next time you can take point and let me know when something’s about to screw me over.”

Your temper flares, but before you can bite back, Sam enters the room, his face a mix of amusement and concern.

“So, good news and bad news,” Sam says, holding an open lore book.

“Just give us the bad news,” Dean grumbles.

Sam sighs. “The chain won’t come off until you, uh… resolve your tension.”

You frown. “What does that mean?”

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, looking anywhere but at the two of you. “It means you have to… make-up―or better yet, make out.”

Dean barks out a disbelieving laugh. “You mean we have to kiss to break it? That’s ridiculous.”

Sam shrugs, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. “That’s what the lore says. The artifact reacts to unresolved emotional tension between people.” He closes the book, giving you both an apologetic look. “Good luck.”

Sam retreats quickly, leaving you and Dean alone in the tense silence.

You glare at Dean, your heart pounding. “This is all your fault.”

He steps closer, the chain pulling taut. “My fault? If anyone’s got unresolved tension here, it’s you.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, though your stomach flips at the heat in his gaze. “You’re the one who—”

Dean cuts you off, his voice low and rough. “Do you really think this is easy for me? Being around you every damn day, pretending I don’t…” He trails off, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Your breath catches. “Don’t what?”

His eyes darken, and his voice drops even lower. “Don’t want you.”

The air between you crackles, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. “Dean…”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he challenges, stepping closer, his boots brushing against yours.

You can’t.

The tension snaps like a rubber band. Dean’s hand cups the back of your neck, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation that steals your breath. You gasp against his mouth, the taste of him overwhelming as your fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer.

The chain jingles as his free hand grips your hip, anchoring you against him. It’s frantic and messy, years of buried feelings spilling out in every press of his lips and every ragged breath.

When you finally break apart, you’re both panting, foreheads pressed together. “That enough tension for you?” Dean mutters, his voice rough and uneven.

You laugh softly, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. “I don’t think the chain’s coming off just yet.”

His lips twitch into a smirk, but there’s something raw in his eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to keep trying.”

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @funkenniffler

[straylightdream]

dancing with our hands tied

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: boss!choi seungcheol x employee!f.reader

You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it. I had a bad feeling, and darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, secret lovers, office romance

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of tension, smut warning below.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k

𝐚𝐧: inspired by the Taylor swift song of the same name. I might make a loose connecting series to this with other seventeen boys. Let me know if you’re interested in any other boys stories mentioned in this. You can also fill out this form helping me pick songs for the other boys.

here is my SVT taglist if you’re interested being add please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), dirty talk, oral male receiving, big dick cheol, size kink (cheol is big and the mc loves how it feels), nicknames: baby (mc’s), sir (his)

From the moment you met Seungcheol you knew you were in trouble. You both worked for a big tech company in the city. When you first started working there Seungcheol didn’t have the huge promotion he had now. He ran a small department that you technically weren’t a part of when you started what was supposed to be a little fling. Fast forward to three months later and Seungcheol is in charge of fifty percent of the company. You originally tried to end your secret relationship but he swore nothing could happen if you stayed together. It had been ten months and your secret romance was still going strong.

Walking into his office you closed and locked the door behind you. The moment the door locked he pushed up his glasses and closed his laptop. The smirk that plays across his lips is enough to make you weak. A few times you’ve you been bold enough to crawl under his desk and give him head, but that wasn’t your plan today.

“Yes, (Y/N)?” You love when he tries to act professional when he speaks to you at work. Silently you walk over sitting the paper work on his desk.

“What time are you leaving the office tonight?” If you don’t ask him you know he’ll stay late at work like he always does.

“According to Soonyoung I have to go to the office party tonight so I have to leave at a reasonable time.”

“I guess I should probably go.” You actually didn’t want to go. You originally planned on staying home but Seungcheol has been bugging you for the last week to go.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he says smirking.

“Do you think it’s a good idea we go together?”

“Yes.” He stands up walking around his desk. You turn around so you’re leaning against his desk. “The door is locked right?” He leans in closer as your lips brush. Silently you nod. His hands grip your hips helping you sit on the edge of his desk. He stands between your parted thighs. Tangling your fingers in his hair while your lips move together for a heated kiss. His strong hands grip your hips grinding against your parted legs.

“I want to fuck you so badly right,” he moans against your lips.

“You should wait to do it when we’re not in the office,” you pull back smiling at him.

A large hand rests on your cheek as he tilts your head back. “Is this your way of teasing me?”

“No sir, but I think it’s best for my job if I don’t fuck my boss at work,” you gently push on his chest getting him to step backwards. The look on his face lets you know you’re in trouble once you’re fully alone tonight.

“I’m not your boss, technically Jeonghan is in charge of you,” he always tries to remind you of this. Him and Jeonghan have the same position, but Jeonghan is in charge of your division that’s in his part of the company.

Pushing yourself off the desk you walk past him. Before you could leave his office he grabs your wrist stopping you in your tracks. “By the end of the night I’m going to have you screaming my name.”

-

Work parties always tended to be a little crazy But when Soonyoung and Joshua are put in charge of planning the parties they tend to get wild. They have a knack for hosting parties filled with people you’ve never even seen at the office.

You were walking closely with Seungcheol. Your hands brushing as you walked through the crowded club that was in a fancy hotel. With the small touch of his hand brushing yours you felt electricity run through your veins. Glancing over at him you see him wearing a smirk looking in your direction.

There was something thrilling about being in public with your secret lover. Nobody knew what you did behind closed doors. You made the choice to keep your relationship secret because Seungcheol and you didn’t want your friends questioning what was going on. Technically you could get in trouble at work since he was your boss.

You normally never went to anything work related with him, but he practically begged you to go to this one. When Joshua mentioned throwing a huge company party at this fancy hotel you originally didn’t even plan on going. Seungcheol somehow sweet talked you into not only going but riding with him. He swore to you nobody would know you were together. That you could come to the party as his friend. Everyone at work knew you were friends before he received his huge promotion. Everyone always joked that once Seungcheol was promoted he would become completely different, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s still the same kind hearted goofy guy you met the first day at the office. He just has a lot more money now.

You were standing by the window on the balcony talking to Minghao about your job. He worked in a different division of the company. You became friends through Mingyu who you have both worked with. Minghao was asking you tons of questions about your new position that you had been promoted to recently. Minghao has always been interested in knowing more about you.

“I’m gonna go find Cheol,” you say to Minghao before heading inside.

You make your way through the crowded room looking for your secret lover. You glanced around and found him standing at the bar talking to Wonwoo with a huge smile on his face. You stared for a long moment before his dark eyes locked on to yours. He bit his bottom and stared at you as you walked towards the dance floor.

The feeling of his dark eyes burning into your back couldn’t be missed as you walked through the crowd. You found a couple of the girls who you’ve met before these parties. Most of them work with Minghao. You all started dancing together along to the beat. The music easily melts away your worries as you’re lost in the sound. Swaying your hips to the beat and you smiled singing along with some of the girls. You of the girls called cheers as one of them walked over with shots to pass around. You took the shot glass filled with gold liquid and looked over your shoulder to find Seungcheol eyes still locked on you.

“Cheers,” you all shouted as you knocked back the shots.

“So are you and Cheol finally together?” The blonde who seemed very interested in Wonwoo asked, taking the shot glass from your hand.

You looked at her for a long moment trying to figure out if you should lie and say no or come clean. Seungcheol and you had been living in the bubble and you figured the less people that knew the better.

“Nope were really good friends,” you lied because for some reason it felt like the safest bet.

“Well if you guys ever do get together I think you would make a cute couple,” she smiled before walking away.

You glanced back at Seungcheol to see that he was attempting to make conversation with Wonwoo while staring at you. You started swaying your hips to the beat again.

You felt as if you once again got lost in the music and next thing you knew you were being tapped on the shoulder by Cheol who had walked over and joined the group with Minghao and Soonyoung. The beat of the music picked up and everyone was dancing and having fun. Seungcheol kept his distance from you, dancing and having fun with the group. Even though you were like five feet apart you could still feel your connection as he kept looking at you. Even in a crowded room he seemed to only see you.

Pretty soon another round of shots were being passed around. This time with a clear liquid. You bit your bottom lip and held the glass up to cheers with the rest of the group. Seungcheol nodded his head to you before taking the shot.

The dance floor had seemed to get more crowded and your group was forced to dance closer together. Soon enough you were swaying to the beat of the music with Seungcheol less than a foot from you.

Both your eyes were filled with lust as you moved to the beat. It’s as if you were dancing with your hands tied trying not to touch. You couldn’t let people know that you were together. You wanted nothing more in that moment to just hold his hand or to even just touch him how you have been dying to touch him.

You turned your body around and started moving your butt against him. At that moment you didn’t care who saw. His large hand brushed against your hip sending a shiver down your spine.

“I need more alcohol,” you said as you turned around to face him.

He moved his face closer to yours and whispered into your ear, “let’s get drinks.”

He placed his hand on your shoulder and led you off the dance floor towards the bar. You felt like everyone was staring at you, even though you knew you were probably just being paranoid.

“Do you think people know?” You asked, leaning against the bar.

He shrugged his shoulders, “at this point I don’t care.”

“But you’re my boss?”

He shrugs his shoulders as he waves down the bartender ordering you each a drink. “Technically I’m a boss. I’m not directly your boss. That would be Jeonghan.”

The two drinks are placed in front of you. You stare at the dark liquid before glancing up at Seungcheol who is watching you carefully. You waste no time drinking half the strong liquor.

“I don’t like this being a secret,” you sigh.

He gives you a sad smile before quickly drinking his dark liquor. “It doesn’t have to be a secret.”

You bit your lip wondering if it was worth keeping this relationship hidden from the world. It has been the best ten months of your life. But you want to be able to proudly walk around with the man you’re in love with.

“Let’s go up to the room I booked,” he leaned over and whispered into your ear.

“People are gonna notice us leaving,” you sighed as he traced his finger up and down your arm.

“At this point babe I want people to know you’re mine,” he whispered in your ear.

A shiver went down your spine as you stared at him. He looked at you in that moment as if you were his whole entire world. You wanted nothing more in that moment to steal a kiss from him.

“Let’s go,” reaching down and lacing your fingers together.

You moved through the crowded room towards the elevator. Looking over at him he smiled and pulled your hands close to him.

You hadn’t done anything more than just hold hands walking through the room but you knew your secret was now out. People would now know you were together. People would officially know you’re sleeping with one of the bosses. But the thing is you don’t care. People can gossip all they want. It doesn’t matter because you’re happy.

He held your hand tight while you waited for the elevator. He held your hand as if he was afraid that you would disappear if he let go. You stepped out into the hallway and you gave him a smile. You looked out into the crowd and found Jeonghan smiling as if he was proud to see you together. As the doors closed he leaned over and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips. You leaned into his chest feeling safe with him. Your secret was officially out.

The doors to the elevator opened and he laced his fingers with yours and led you into the hallway at a hurried pace. You could tell he was ready to get you into his room. He flung the door open and wasted no time pressing you against the wall. Your lips are roughly connected. He held onto your face as your lips danced. His lips pulled away from yours giving you a moment to breathe. Your lusted filled eyes stayed locked onto his as he moved his largest hands from your face down to your shoulders. You stood in silence for a long moment before he slowly started to pull the straps of your dress down your shoulders. You bit your bottom lip as he slid the dress off you. His eyes looked like he was intoxicated by the sight of you.

As the dress you had been wearing fell off you and pooled in a circle around your feet. You wore nothing but a pale rose colored bra and a pair of cheeky panties. Slowly you reached between the two of you to start unbuttoning his dress shirt. He took your cue and quickly got out of his dress shirt. You reached between you and worked on getting his pants unbuckled.

Quickly he undid his pants and stood there in him his boxers and a grin on his face. Roughly he connected his lips to yours. Wrapping your arms around him you pulled him in close to you. His rough hands gripped your hips as your lips moved together.

Large hands roamed your back as he moved them towards your bra. With little effort he unclasped your bra letting it fall to the floor. Pulling his lips away from yours he started kissing your neck while his hands moved up and start massaging your breast. Leaning your head back against the wall you can’t help but moan, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your body. No matter how many times you do this he makes you fall apart effortlessly.

He moved his lips across your skin as you tangled yours fingers in his long hair. His lips moved lower and lower as he sunk down onto his knees in front of you. He placed a trail of kissed from your breast down to the top of your panties. He looked up at you with hungry eyes as he licked his lips slowly. His large hands slowly gripped the top of your panties and slowly pulled them down. Stepping out of them you stood completely naked in front of him while he sat on his knees looking like he was ready to eat you alive.

“Why am I the only naked one here?” You asked grinning. You love these little moments you get to tease him.

Silently he stood up and made quick work of taking his boxers off. He stood there naked and proud with his erection point straight at you. Biting your lip you sank down onto your knees in front of him. Reaching up and slowly stroking his already hardened erection. Leaning forward you slowly licked the tip. In the ten months you’ve been together you’ve learned all the ways to make him fall apart, just like he knows every way to make you scream. The faint gasp passed his lips is enough to make you wet. Your tongue moved down his length and he tangled his fingers in your hair. Taking him in your mouth you slowly bobbed your head taking in his large dick as much as you could. Seungcheol is the biggest dick you’ve ever had. The first time you hooked up you weren’t even sure he would fit inside you.

He kept moaning your name letting you know that you’re doing a good job. You release him with a pop and lick along his length again your tongue brushes the prominent vein that runs along the side of his cock. Bobbing your head again, taking in his length as you worked your hands at his base. A mixture of moans and whimpers keep passing his lips.

You’re caught off guard when he pulls your hair lightly.“Baby I don’t wanna finish in your mouth,” he looked down at you dazed, and on the brink of falling apart.

He pulled you to your feet and connected his lips to yours roughly. Your back was against the wall within moments. Roughly he lifted you up so you was pressed against the wall. You pulled your lips away from his biting on his bottom lip. He grinned and reached between you and lined his erection up with your entrance.

A loud gasp passed your lips as he thrust into you never giving you a chance to adjust to his size. Wrapping your arms around him as he thrust into you over and over again. Rolling your head back and resting it against the wall as you moaned.

“Fuck- you’re so big,” you moan.

“Sorry baby-“ he pauses like he’s trying to calm down. “I should have gone slower.”

“Fuck- it’s fine. Please keep moving,” you beg.

Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of him stretching you over and over again. His hands roughly held your ass bringing you towards him with every thrust. “Oh my god,” a loud moan passes your lips. You aren’t sure if you’re even able to coherently speak. He’s left you practically brain dead with how good he’s fucking you. You’ll never get over the feeling of how big he is and how good it feels when he stretches you out.

“I'm a close baby,” he groaned.

He pressed you against the wall a little harder and started thrusting a little rougher. He’s not normally this rough but you won’t complain. You’re so cock drunk and lust filled he could practically do anything to you and you would beg for more.

“Cheol,” you moaned as your walls tightened around him. You fall apart quickly and you practically black out with how hard your orgasm hits you.

He got one more thrust in before he moaned your name loudly. You wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the party heard you even from the bottom floor.

“So I think people know we’re together now,” you said softly as he slowly sat you down. Your legs felt like jello and leaned against him for support.

“Good I don’t wanna hide you anymore,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact you weren’t hiding anymore.

[snzunii]

you and satoru are probably the most unusual two people to be ever seen together in your friend group. why even is that? for one, you hate his guts—not hate, per se. you just can't fathom how he’s always bragging about the new “girl” of the week.

it’s like being a playboy is something that he should be proud of. and it ticks you off, it just irks you how he’s got that million dollar grin on his face every fucking time. and certainly, satoru doesn't miss the way you roll your eyes, that's why he’s annoyed too.

yeah, he doesn't want commitments. he doesn't like being tied to just one girl and it’s none of your fucking business. so why do you make snarky comments at him every now and then? he fucking hates it.

why can't you just shut up and be all “lovey dovey” with your asshole boyfriend, who’s clearly cheating on you? but no, he doesn't make any comments about that, not when you told him that he doesn't get a say, because what did you say? ah, he’s just an asshole who doesn’t know about relationships because he’s never been in a real one.

yeah, but all is good. you don't hate each other. you two just like to “poke fun” with each other, no offense, right?

he doesn't hate you, he just doesn't like hanging alone with you.

but why did he offer his company when you sent a text on the group chat and no one was available? this was unusual.

he guess, he just sensed that you really needed someone that night and no one was available. shoko and utahime were supposed to be on your doorstep, because they were your best friends, not him.

“what are you doing here?” he doesn't miss the way you emphasized the word ‘you’ to him. he was tempted to leave because he just couldn't take how you look at him with that frown. was his company that bad?

do you not like him that much?

“shut up,” he replies, and lifts the plastic bag full of all kinds of liquor that he was holding “i know you need someone. spill.”

but then again, you're in the same circle. he’s still your friend. maybe you can overlook the things that you hate about him for now. so, you’re both sitting on your living room floor, having a one-on-one drinking session with him.

“ryomen’s cheating on me.”

he wanted to say, i told you so but he never did, instead, he handed you the liquor and just listened to you cry. sometimes, you forget that he’s a decent friend. that he could be that person, if he wanted to.

but then he says something silly—and maybe, you both were drunk enough not to deem it as silly. maybe it was a good idea, not.

“get back at him.”

you giggled, your cheeks probably flushed, “how?”

you don't know how you get back at your cheater ex-boyfriend by straddling satoru, pushing your tongue inside his mouth and grinding on his lap.

but, damn, this is really a good way to get back at your ex.

buuuut! would you still think it’s a good idea when you wake up in the morning with satoru's arm draped over your waist with nothing but this thin blanket covering your bodies?

well? that’s a question you don't know the answer to.

( read part two here )

[fandoms-x-reader]

Sensitive! MC

Requested By: @fairwish

Summary: The brothers' reaction to an MC who is sensitive and gets upset about not having anyone who cares about them in the Devildom. The Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 3,064

This doesn't have Belphie because of the lesson it's based on! Sorry <3

Based on Lesson 6-15

You had been torn away from your life and taken to an unfamiliar place full of creatures that humans portrayed as scary and evil.

You didn’t know anyone in the Devildom. You didn’t have anyone who cared about you or that you could talk to about the trouble you were experiencing.

You were all alone, terrified, trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here.

And to top it all off, none of your new acquaintances seemed to care.

They all carried on without a worry in the world - as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a human to be in Devildom.

They didn’t do anything to try and soothe your pain of missing home or calm your fears of being surrounded by demons.

In fact, some one of them - Mammon - spurred them on by threatening to eat you if you didn’t listen to them or do as they asked.

You did your best to put on a brave face, to pretend as though their words and actions didn’t affect you as much as they did.

But it was hard to keep your composure when it was clear that not a single one of them cared about you.

-

You made your way to the Assembly Hall, your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.

You had just left the music room where you had a very intense one-on-one conversation with Lucifer after your near-death experience where you tried to save Beel and Luke.

“Hey, how about that Y/N, you’re alive!” Mammon stated as you entered the large room, a smile on his face that you weren’t sure was one-hundred percent genuine.

“Let’s see…yep, you’ve still got both arms and both legs. Your eyes are still in their sockets, and your ears are still attached. Guess you’re okay,” Beel added.

“I want to know what Lucifer did. You’ve got to give me the deets L-8-R, yo!” Levi said, a bit too excitedly. 

“Whaaat, you’re still alive? Well, that’s boring,¨ Asmo replied, a small frown on his face, as if he was disappointed

You want to scoff at their reponses. How could they be so nonchalant with everything that just happened. How could they not care at all that you almost died trying to protect their brother.

“Of course. Unless he went crazy again like last night, Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Y/N,” Satan stated, the mention of your name bringing you out of your thoughts.

“And do you know why that is, Y/N?” Satan asked you, a small smirk resting on his lips as he asked the question.

You wished it was because Lucifer liked you. Or at the very least because you were a human. But you the knew the answer.

“Because I’m an exchange student,” you replied, softly, casting your gaze away from the demons standing in front of you.

That’s all you were to them - a business transaction. A pawn that was being used to ensure Lord Diavolo’s vision came to light.

“Exactly. I see you have a good grasp of what’s going on here,” Satan replied, and you felt tears begin to sting your eyes.

“If anything were to happen to one of our exchange students, it would make Lord Diavolo look bad,” Satan continued to explain and you took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your emotions.

“Lucifer would never do anything to harm Lord Diavolo’s reputation,” Satan added and you felt the ties that had been previously holding you back snap.

“You know, I actually forgot about that. For a moment, I was starting to think that Lucifer might actually care about me. Thanks for me reminding, Satan,” you replied sharply, your angry eyes locking with his surprised ones before you left the Assembly Hall.

Satan hadn’t expect such sarcasm to come out of you - such wrath. None of them did. 

You had passed Lucifer and Lord Diavolo on your way out of the Assembly Hall and they could feel your irritation radiating off of you.

They didn't follow after you though, instead turning their attention to the five other demons inside the Assmebly Hall, silently demanding an explanation as to why you were so upset.

Lucifer thought that he had patched things over with you after your conversation in the music room.

He wasn’t the best at apologizing but he was sure that he had gotten his point across about how regretful he was over his actions.

He thought that you had accepted his apology and that things were okay, but after seeing you storm out of the Assembly Hall, we was no longer sure that was true.

After his brothers told Lucifer what happened before his arrival, he thought it would be best if he went and checked on you himself.

He found you in the courtyard, remnants of the tears you had previously shed streaking down your cheeks.

Lucifer wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Mostly, because he wasn’t exactly sure why you were so upset.

It took a little bit of time, but when you finally opened up and told Lucifer about your troubles, he was surprised. 

He was surprisingly sympathetic to what you were going through, but he didn’t exactly let that side of himself show.

He had already apologized to you for his part in causing you discomfort in the Devildom and he was the Avatar of Pride, after all, so getting a second apology was a tall order, and an unlikely one.

But, you did notice Lucifer doing small things around RAD and the House of Lamentation.

It could be simple things that provided more comfort for your life in the Devildom or moments of appreciation that Lucifer treated as trivial but ended up meaning more to you than you thought it would.

After that conversation with Lucifer, one thing was clear - he and his brothers weren’t treating you right and they needed to make amends for that and correct their course of action.

Mammon could arguably be the most sensitive among his brothers when it came to certain things.

He had his fair share of moments where he felt like he didn’t matter to his brothers and times where he felt like there wasn’t a single person in the Devildom that cared about him.

So, he knew just how devastating those thoughts could be.

When you first arrived to the Devildom, Mammon’s concern was making sure that he made himself out to be intimidating and indifferent towards you so that he could have the power in the friendship.

He wanted to dictate when and where the two of you would go and how things were done. After all, if he was going to be your babysitter, he wanted full control of the situation.

But that didn’t really work out for him, and it didn’t take long for him to not only have to bend his knee to your will - but he wanted to.

The truth was he had fun with you and you always found a way to make him smile. Though, he refused to say anything like that. Hell, he refused to even think anything like that when he was around others.

But, when you had your outburst in the Assmebly Hall, Mammon had seen the pained look on your face. The same pained look that he had seen on himself in the mirror.

He followed after you almost immediately, not letting you get too far before he caught up and pulled you into an empty classroom.

He stood in front of you, silence filling the air as you did your best but failed to hold back your tears.

Mammon dared himself to reach up and use his thumb to brush away the tears that were rolling down your cheek.

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to keep it together when no one around you cares about you,” you stated, barely above a whisper as you kept your gaze on the ground.

Mammon felt his heart shatter as you spoke those words. He knew that he was at fault just as much as his brothers.

He wanted to tell you that he cared about you, but every time he opened his mouth to speak those words, they got lost.

So, instead he pulled you into his arms, hoping that his gesture would be enough to prove you wrong.

Hoping that you would see that even though he had a tendency to act aloof, on the inside he was screaming for you to show him attention and to care about him the same way he cared about you.

Levi isn’t the type of person who knows how to handle this kind of situation.

He wasn’t even planning on going in to school today. He was perfectly content with doing his studies from the comfort of his bedroom.

But, ever since he made a pact with you, he had to admit he felt some sort of desire - a very SECRET desire - to spend more time with you.

The idea that his brothers would be hanging out with you at school while he was sitting at the House of Lamentation, missing out, was enough to spark the sin that he tried so hard to control.

And now after seeing everything that had just happened, he was heavily regretting his decision to leave his room.

Because now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

On one hand, he wanted to disappear back to his otaku haven and pretend like he never saw your outburst

On the other hand…he couldn’t. He felt like he had to do something to help, and the feeling only grew when he didn’t see any of his other brothers moving to go talk to you.

His social anxiety was skyrocketing, but he couldn’t leave a fellow TSL fan in their time of need. That was the reason the told himself when questioning why he was doing this.

When he finally did find you, he once again froze in place as he tried to figure out his next move. He didn’t expect to find you crying.

He found some nearby tissues and slowly approached you with them, relaxing slightly when you gently took them from him and began wiping away your tears.

Levi managed to ask you why you were crying and when you explained it to him, everything made sense as to why you snapped at them.

Levi was almost always self-depracating. Sometimes it was easier to tell yourself that no one loved you then get your hopes up and get hurt. 

But he didn’t want you to go down that rabbit hole - because it wasn’t true.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to find a way to show you how much you meant to him and his brothers.

He was going to prove how just in your small time there, you had already changed at least three of them for the better. And it wouldn't be long until the others followed suit.

Levi might not have the perfect words to say or the perfect way to cheer you up, but what he did have was a true friend.

And you may have to wait a while until he’s comfortable enough for him to tell you that. But, in the meantime, he’ll do what he could to show you that at least one person cared about you.

Satan had been the one you snapped at, so he was by far the most surprised.

For one, he wasn’t exactly sure what about his statements made you so angry.

He wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, he was simply stating the facts about Lucifer.

For two, he didn’t think you had such rage inside. 

In a somewhat twisted sense, he dared to admit seeing you portray his sin gave him a small sense of gratification.

But, that thought was at the back of his mind. At the front, was trying to talk to you about what happened.

He took some time to properly analyze the situation. He tried to come up with every possible reason that could have caused you to lash out.

He wanted to have a response to any situation so that when he did talk to you, he wasn’t floundering for words.

He found you in the library at the House of Lamentation a little while later and he was grateful you were in a quiet and private place that he just so happened to be comfortable in.

You looked up from your book for a moment to see who had entered before returning to your fictional world. 

Satan came to sit down next to you and paused for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

It was a much more sincere apology than you would expect from the Avatar of Wrath and it was enough to pull your attention away from your book.

“It’s not what you said. It’s what it reminded me of,” you replied with a small sigh.

“What did it remind you of?” Satan questioned, his eyes holding no malice but a hint of curiosity

“That I’m alone down here. That I don’t have anyone to turn to or talk to. That I don’t have anyone who cares,” you replied softly, your eyes looking away from Satan’s intense ones.

Satan had thought about this being one of the reasons, but he was stuck in a mental debate.

He was so used to being apathetic but something about the way you opened up to him melted his heart and he suddenly felt an innate desire to protect you.

“The library is a great place to go if you’re feeling lonely,” Satan stated.

It was always his comfort place, so he saw no reason why it couldn’t be yours.

Not to mention the fact, that he was typically in the library and maybe a small part of him was hoping that he could also be something you sought out when you were feeling lonely.

Asmo didn’t really understand the weight that his words carried until you were angrily walking out of the Assembly Hall.

As soon as you disappeared from sight he began questioning himself. Did he really say it was boring that you weren’t dead?

He had meant it as a joke when he first said it. It was a joke that most demons would find funny and he was so good at trying to be a people pleaser.

He was used to making those kinds of jokes because it would boost the way he looked in front of other demons and we all know how important his reputation was to him.

But your outburst made him realize how it must have sounded to you - a human who had been torn from their world and thrown into one that was vastly different. 

And a twinge of guilt poked at his heart, gradually growing in intensity until he felt like he could no longer stave off the need to apologize.

He found you in your bedroom and was thankful that the two of you would have a moment to be alone.

His apology would be so much more genuine if it was in privacy where he could drop the mask he constantly wore in public.

When you opened the door Asmo suppressed a gasp as he saw tears rolling down your cheek and the guilt only continued to eat away at him.

He had always thought that crying was such an ugly thing. But when you did it, it had a certain elegance.

You had a way of making anything you did beautiful. It was a trait that Asmo was actually quite envious of.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Asmo said, the words spilling from his lips before he had even fully registered what he said. 

You were confused by his sudden confession and as you tried to find the right words to reply with, he continued.

“I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I made you cry," he added.

Asmo grabbed a nearby tissue and gently brought it to your cheek, dabbing away your tears.

You knew that what he said was probably a joke, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

You opened up to Asmo and explained why it hurt so much to hear everyone say those things and it was like a lightbulb went off in Asmo's head.

He completely understood where you were coming from and he hated that none of them even thought about how hard it would be for a human to adjust to life in the Devildom.

In an attempt to show you he cared about you, Asmo will turn up his charm 100% on you.

More compliments, more hugs, really anything he could do.

And if that wasn't enough he would take you out with him and introduce you to some of his friends.

Being lonely was one of the worst feelings and Asmo never wanted you to feel that way.

Beel felt the most guilty after seeing you so upset.

He was the one you were protecting when Lucifer tried to attack you.

You had stepped in front of him and shielded him.

He had been so thankful that Diavolo managed to reach Lucifer in time and stop him from hurting you.

And he made sure to tell you as much when you were resting up in his bedroom after the attack.

Yet, when that conversation was happening in the Assembly Hall, he said and did nothing to help you.

He could see you growing more and more upset as his brothers talked, but he continued to just stand by and listen.

As soon as you left the Assembly Hall in tears though, Beel knew he had messed up.

He immediately followed after you, genuinely worried about you.

When he finally caught up to you, Beel immediately wrapped you into his arms, pulling you closely into him.

Panic was filling every inch of his body as he tried to come up with the right words.

In the end, he told you, “My brothers were just kidding.”

You let out a small chuckle, gently pulling away from Beel and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I know that what they were saying wasn’t completely true, but Satan was right. I don’t have anyone down here that cares about me,” you replied, and Beel’s lip turned into a frown.

He looked so sad and lost at your words that you almost felt like you needed to comfort him.

“When I asked you why you protected me and Luke, you told me it was because we were your friends and we were important to you,” Beel began, and your eyes locked with his indigo ones. 

“You’re my friend too, and you’re important to me,” Beel added with a small smile that portrayed how sincere he was being you.

His expression was enough to bring a small smile to your face and you allowed yourself to open up to Beel.

You knew that the whole experience brought the two of you closer, and you knew that Beel was someone who would always be there for you and someone you could always turn to.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I think another reason why I get rather annoyed when people hate on ToA Apollo is because how hypocritical their criticisms are.

I just saw a post talking about how great it is that Annabeth gets to show a lot of emotion, especially by crying. I also recall moments where she got frustrated or angry, and I found myself absolutely agreeing!

But then my thoughts turned to Apollo, another character who shows a lot of emotion.

But you know what he’s called for being frustrated, or upset, or for crying?

Whiny. He’s called whiny.

Apollo gets frustrated when he’s unable to perform something (archery) he used to be extremely good at. He’s upset that he can no longer use a bow correctly.

And people call him whiny for that. Apparently, those people have never experienced, let alone heard of The Gifted-Kid, something all Gifted-Kids (hello, tis me, Gifted-Kid since 4th grade RIP) can relate to Apollo over.

You were really good at something but all of a sudden you can no longer perform it as well? You’re not hitting your usual mark?

Well too bad, according to the fan base, you should shut up and not be so awfully whiny! It’s just archery!

(That was obviously in jest but you get my point.)

Additionally, Apollo never complains about important things. He complains about having to walk, but not the injury that’s literally turning him into a zombie and physically tormenting him.

That post really made me think about this, and then I asked myself; “Why? Why are people’s thoughts so different on Annabeth v Apollo showing emotion?”

It became apparent rather quickly, if you ask me.

Annabeth is a woman. Of course she should be able to show emotion! also maybe deep-seated sexism of ‘women are emotional’

Apollo is a man. And God forbid men show emotion I guess smh so also sexism

Because think about it. How many of the RRVerse male protagonists were allowed to cry? To be fully, and undeniably, upset?

I can only remember Frank crying on the plane after his grandmother’s presumed death, and Grover sniffling/getting teary-eyed in PJO. I don’t recall Percy, Jason, Leo, or Nico ever crying, or really having powerful bursts of emotion.

Yes, yes, Percy and Nico have both gotten mad and unleashed their fury upon someone, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about letting them feel, letting them be emotional.

Not a burst of anger. But real, genuine character-driven emotion.

The fact that I can only name Frank and Grover from the previous two series is truly saddening.

Apollo gets to feel. To let his emotions flow freely. He whines, yes, but he also gets frustrated, he gets upset, and most of all he cries.

That all makes him a real character, someone people can relate to.

I’ll admit I’m a rather emotional person too. I have a quick temper, and more often than not the water-works come on real quick when I get upset. It’s a normal emotional response, but it can be difficult to work with, especially when you’re trying to stay calm.

Apollo is the first RRVerse protagonist to be allowed to have feelings— strong ones, even. And I can relate to that. There’s a reason why Apollo, Reyna, and Annabeth are all favorites of mine, and that’s because I see myself in them.

Annabeth is prideful. I can be too. She gets obsessed over her work. I do that too. Hates spiders? Oh hell yeah.

Reyna gave me someone to connect with over my sexuality. Ignore that Rick mixed what aro and ace are for a moment please She really gave my demiromantic self somebody to relate with, because the lack of aro rep is criminal. and no the Hunters are not aro rep

Apollo is emotional. He’s made mistakes and wants to do better.

Who wouldn’t see themselves in him? I certainly do.

And yet, he gets called whiny for having the literal rug pulled out from under him again and again, and he doesn’t even let himself complain over what he should, absolutely complain about!

Idk. I think there’s a lot to be said about how this fandom treats emotional characters, especially based on gender.

I guess this is all to say don’t judge a fictional character, because you’re judging a real person too.

And real people have feelings, you know.

[lastlifesmp]

Scott talking about on a recent stream how he wants Impulse to win but doesn't think their team is in a good position for it really made me think about what in the past has made a team "in a good position to win", and it seems to come down to the smaller the team, the more likely a winner is to come from there.

Large teams usually get ripped apart first and you can see examples of this in pretty much every season. Third life both Dogwarts and the Crastle had the most amount of players in their alliances, they both fell apart with members dying and betrayal happening all over the place. On the other hand Grian and Scar, while they made allies with other people, were very solidly their own team for most of the season and were able to stick together quite well, giving Grian the win.

(Comments on other seasons under a read more cause it got a bit long lmao)

Same thing in Last Life, the Southlanders, team BEST, and even the fairy fort all basically ripped each other to shreds, while Scott, Pearl and later Cleo formed a very tight knit group and didn't have any forms of betrayal among them. (Slight outlier here for Joel and Scar I guess with their small/no teams but circumstances conspired against them lmao) But with Scott taking that win it starts to form a pattern of smaller teams seemingly make it easier to win.

In Double life there wasn't really any large teams (besides like full red or yellow temporary alliances) as everyone was split into duos, but there is still an argument that Pearl was on a very small team (as in just her and Tilly), and was able to get the win while those who stuck with their duos died.

Again in Limited Life, the larger alliances like team TIES and the Family who were much more closely knit but still had to worry about betrayal (cough cough Etho and Bdubs) and the Bad Boys, who's greatest enemies were admittedly themselves but they fell apart too, while the two duo groups, Pearl+BigB and Scott+Maryn were very tightly knit with each other. There was no question of betrayal or of the teams falling apart, with Martyn going on to win.

In Secret life Scar was the only player to not team with anyone else, and he wins the season. The big dogs and Gem and the Scotts both had issues with inter team fighting and while the Mounders were pretty close, almost all of them died very quickly once the fighting started.

And now in Wild Life, we have the smallest team, Gem and Joel, pretty much being in the best position with lives while the biggest team the Final Gs, in the worst one. Now obviously some of this is just due to differing skill and luck in the games, but the more people you have, the more difficult it is to manage a team. BigB and Pearl have already attempted to or passively betrayed the team at some point, Etho and Ren have both asked to join but have very conflicting loyalties. They're not all able to fully work together the way a duo team would be and it does show. (Not a dig on any of the players, this is just how people are lmao, there's a reason MCC only has 4 player teams, the more people there is, the harder it is to keep everyone together).

So currently, I do think Joel and Gem have the best chance of winning, even though I would love an Impulse win and the Three Gs all seem to be very on board with him getting it, they just have so many things going on it's hard to stay focused. More people means more changes for a teammate to die, and if the group can't reform around that, it's not going to go well.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Best In Show

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Naya "Bambi" Walker (OC)

Read on AO3

Word count: 4.8k

CW: BDSM, Sexual Content, kink negotiations, hucow kink, speech restriction, themed lingerie, lactation kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, so much dirty talk, pre-nut insanity (one of my favorite flavors of Simon), fantasies of dub-con (no actual dub-con), post-nut laughter

Notes: This was supposed to be a short addition to the Kinktober prompts, but obviously I am bad at keeping things short. Also, the working title for this was "Moo Moo Moo."

Simon is hiding something. Maybe that’s the wrong way to look at it. There’s something he’s not saying, not making obvious. It itches at the back of your mind.

It starts with looking at your own nude body in the mirror after a shower. You’ve been going to the gym, just a little bit. Weight training and cardio to keep up with all of the sex you’ve been having since moving in with Simon. You haven’t really lost any weight. In fact, your hips are wider, with no real change in the pouch of your belly.

Simon makes an interested noise when he walks into the bedroom. “Guess we should ‘old off on supper, eh?”

“No, no, I want to try that recipe I found,” you say, ignoring his discontented noise as you pull on underwear. The pleased noise he makes when you tug on his shirt is predictable, just like the kiss he presses to your cheek. “I was just… looking at myself. Kind of surprised that I’ve got more hip. Still got the belly, though.”

Simon surprises you by saying, “Tit’s’re bigger, too.”

“Are they?” You bunch the shirt in the back, and take yourself in. “Huh.”

“More pectoral muscle,” he says with a shrug. “More breast.”

“That’s not how that works,” you scoff, shoving him playfully before leaving the bedroom. “Besides, I heard your tis are the first to go when you lose weight.”

“Then I hope you don’t lose weight,” Simon answers, following you into the kitchen for a kiss. “I like all’o you.”

He spends extra time worshiping your thick parts, that night. Kisses you and kisses you and kisses you while rubbing your belly and groping at your hips, stroking and pinching at your breasts, your thighs, your love handles, your arm fat. He’s ravenous as he eats you out. The two of you are loud as he takes you apart. You fall asleep completely drained and covered in sore spots.

It doesn’t occur to you that you’ve been missing anything for a while after that. In fact, nothing seems off until he catches you masturbating a couple of months later. One moment, you’re alone at home, in bed, and the next he’s climbing in next to you with a groan and a sigh of relief.

“Whatcha wachin’?” he asks over your surprised yelp. “Tha’s not y’r usual boyfriend.”

“What do you know about my usual porn,” you laugh as you pass him your earbuds to place on the side table. You roll to kiss him as you admit, “It’s not really exciting, I was mostly done.”

“What counts as exciting?”

“I dunno,” you shrug, cuddling up. He smells so good. “You know my usuals, why don’t you tell me?”

Simon chuckles into your hair. “Big dicks ‘n ‘elplessness. Bonus points for dubious consent.”

“…Well… You’re not wrong.”

“I know what my girl likes.”

“Okay,” you giggle. “Well, what’s exciting for you?”

If you didn’t know him, you would have missed the split second pause before his answer. As it is you barely catch the way his hand twitches against the curve of your ass.

But he says, “You know what I like. A beautiful woman asking for what she wants.”

“And getting it until she cries,” you purr, rolling on top of him.

“Lies and slander,” he deadpans, grinding his hips up into yours. “I’d never enjoy seeing you with those pretty tears in your eyes, beggin’ me t’ keep goin’ and t’ stop at the same time.”

Of course, you both prove him wrong in short order. After, he holds you while you tremble, pressing kisses to the crown of your head. He laughs, just a little, when you can’t sit up enough to get your water on your own, but he also helps you, so that’s okay.

The next day, you realize that you actually don’t know what porn Simon finds exciting. He’s shared some with you, of course, on the nights where sex was too much work until it suddenly wasn’t. Every now and again, though, he would scroll past something with a dismissive noise. It wouldn’t be noteworthy, except… well, they’re all videos he’s saved in his favorites. So he likes them, but doesn’t necessarily want to share them with you. Which is fine. Heaven knows you’re deleting your porn history regularly. Whatever you look up when you’re ovulating is between you, Bowser, and God.

But the last straw for your curiosity comes when you borrow his phone to do some quick online shopping. A friend is having a themed pool party and wants everyone in shades of blue. You’ve been on a pink and purple kick, so you don’t actually have an appropriate bathing suit. So you pull up the search engine and look up bathing suits.

And there, in the search history: ‘Cow Print Bikini’.

Your research brain goes, “Jackpot.”

There’s no way to tell what, if anything, Simon looked at in the search results. But you’re good at knowing where to look. More importantly, you know your man. And after a full 24 hours of research, you have a pretty good idea of the shape of things.

  -

  “Hey Simon,” you call, a week later.

“In the den,” he answers.

“Can you… actually, I’ll be right there!”

When you get there, he’s playing one of his video games. He turns his head to kiss you, then curses under his breath when a pink slime eats the fruit he’d been trying to harvest. It’s such a sweet, domestic moment that you almost don’t want to interrupt.

“Do you have space for a kink discussion?” You settle onto the couch next to him, and pull your legs up under yourself. “Nothing bad. Just… maybe some negotiations. You can keep playing.”

He taps the controller against one of his palms, twice, then says, “Sure.”

You take a deep breath, then ask, “Have you ever heard of hucows?”

The pause menu comes up immediately, but Simon doesn’t look at you. In fact, he’s so still that you’re sure he’s stopped breathing. When he doesn’t say or do anything for a full ten seconds, you look up at him.

His face is blank, and he looks back at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” you whisper.

He blinks, then shakes himself back into his skin. He looks back at the television, but doesn’t resume the game. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been doing some research,” you answer. “And I thought you might find it… interesting.” When he looks at you again without saying anything, you confess. “And there were cow print bikinis in your search history.”

All of the air leaves Simon in a whoosh. He leans back into the couch and scrubs a hand over his face. “’M sorry. I don’t… I wouldn’t ever… You know I love you. ‘N that I respect you. I’d never-”

“Woah, woah, wait!” You grab one of his hands in yours. “Hang on. You love me, I love you. I trust you. Do you trust me?”

Simon doesn’t answer for a long moment, and then he says, without taking his hand from his face, “I trust you to be ‘onest with me. Trust you’ll accept a no. Trust you’re not g’nna yell. Trust you not to punish me if you’re upset.”

“Acknowledged,” you breathe against his bicep. “I trust you to be honest with me, too. And I trust that it’s okay to tell you if I’m not comfortable with anything we discuss or do. I trust that you won’t yell at me. I trust that you’re not going to hurt or harm me on purpose to correct my behavior. Acknowledge.”

Simon sighs, again, then peeks through his fingers at you. “Acknowledged.”

“Okay,” you say, coaxing him to release some of the tension in his shoulders. “So. I did a little research. But I just want to know for sure what you think, what you find exciting.”

He’s pink when he asks, “Y’ve seen the videos?”

“No!”

That finally makes him look at you skeptically. “No?”

“I wasn’t snooping through your stuff,” you protest. “I literally searched for a bikini on your phone and it had the little history symbol next to it. I got curious.”

“Hell of a distance between a bathing suit an’ niche kinks.”

The hint of humor in his voice gives you the permission you were waiting for. You climb into his lap and throw your legs over one of his arms. He hugs you exactly the way you want, just as loving as ever.

“So then,” he eventually says. “What did you find?”

“So much bad porn, oh my god,” you answer. “Not that the actual hucow stuff itself is bad. It’s just that the non-paywalled stuff is steeped in so much spam. And what isn’t pure spam doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing. Just… lots of humiliation and degradation and misogyny kink. Stuff you’ve already said takes you out of the mood. And if that’s sometimes the mood, that’s fine, too. I know we don’t always masturbate to things we’re usually into-”

“It’s not that,” Simon interrupts.

You’re both quiet after. You realize that his heart is racing under your hand, and your heart is beating just as fast. But he keeps holding you, and you keep petting over the dip of his collarbones.

Your stomach churns. “I shouldn’t have said the porn was bad. I’m sorry.”

“It is bad,” Simon snorts. “’S part of why I never mentioned it. Some of that shit is nasty.”

“I like nasty.”

He hums and rubs a hand over your back. “I know, beautiful. But this feels… bad. Some ‘f it… ’S ‘ard to find the words. But I didn’t want you t’ think I see you that way, that I ever want to see you that way.”

“Porn isn’t real life,” you remind him. “Things that happen in a scene that everyone consented to-”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes as you glare up at him. “Let’s not pretend that kink has no basis in reality. Our dynamic is special to me, Naya. I don’t want to… disrespect it, or you, or us, with this.”

“Okay,” you whisper, tucking your face into his neck. You take one of his hands back into yours. “We don’t have to keep talking about it, if you don’t want to. But,” you can’t help but add with a smile. “I did get cow print lingerie. And a headband. It’s got little ears and horns.”

Simon groans. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did!” You press a kiss to his chin. “I’m glad I didn’t try to surprise you with it.”

“Would’a given me an ‘eart attack.”

“That would have been fun to explain. ‘Oh gee, Captain, I didn’t think he’d like it that much.’”

“Oi,” Simon growls.

He dips down to press his lips to yours. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his shoulders and shift to straddle his lap. The kiss is sweet, a reassurance. Like aftercare. Maybe it is. Both of your bodies relax, until you can’t even hold yourself up to keep your lips on his. You lay your head on his shoulder with a content sigh.

You’re like that for a long time before Simon speaks again.

“Its the idea that her body… your body… could be nothing but pleasure and instinct. That I could pull pleasure from you until it would be pain not to.” He’s quiet for a moment, then continues when you don’t reply. “There’s something about it. But it’s a fantasy I never intended to bring to the bedroom. It’s… just something to think about, sometimes.”

  Simon presents the cow print bikini on a Thursday. At first, you’re confused. Then you’re amused, because a year ago you would have worked yourself into a tizzy trying to figure out what he was saying about your weight. But Simon loves your body, and you, and after months of avoiding talking about it, this is a huge step. So you stay silent, and look up at him expectantly.

“Would like to do a scene this weekend,” he says. “Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged,” you answer, biting back a smile. “What are the parameters?”

Things seem downright vanilla for the first half. A whole day of pampering - spa, nails, hair - that means he’s been planning this for a while. Your favorite, just fancy enough food for dinner, and a dessert to go. All the usual rules apply: Simon’s in charge, you promise to be honest. All in all, a perfect date night.

And then he says something that boggles your mind.

“Okay, wait. I put on the cow print, and then I can only moo? After we get home?”

“No,” he surprises you by saying. He takes a deep breath, then continues. “I want you to wear it all day. An’ you’re only allowed to moo. Except durin’ your appointments. Please don’t moo at your stylists.”

“But at dinner…”

“I’ll order for you,” He says. His eyes flick away, then back to yours. “I’ll take care of everything.”

“But we won’t talk,” you press.

His ears go pink, but he cracks a smile as he says, “I’ll talk. And it’s not a rule that you have to be silent.”

He’s embarrassed, you realize. He’s finally acting on this thing you discussed so long ago, but he’s still nervous about what you’ll think. You have to stifle the part of you that wants to coo.

“Okay,” you say, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Unless I’m using a safeword, I can just… make cow sounds. All day. Acknowledged.”

  The day of comes quickly. And then you’’e contemplating the lingerie you bought months ago. It’s much nicer than the flimsy thing Simon got, “just as ‘n experiment, no sense in wastin’ money ‘f things aren’t good as the fantasy.” The bikini he got you is… cheap. Your purchase will certainly fit under your clothes nicer.

As you pull on the silky material Simon apparently didn’t believe you actually ordered, you take a couple of deep breaths. You’re going to wear cow print for your partner. It’s not much different, you reason, from asking him to graze his knife over your skin while he watches TV. It’s not not his thing. And this isn’t exactly your thing. But you love each other. So you’ll do this thing, because his enjoyment can be yours.

Yeah.

  -

  By the end of dinner, you’re much deeper into a submissive headspace than you ever expected to be. You’re so aware of the urge to talk and the fact that you can’t. It’s a constant cue to look to Simon. More than once, you almost slip up. The words catch in your throat and you have to pivot to a lowing sound, a drawn out vowel that leaves you feeling helpless as he smiles and pets at your hand. You expect it to be maddening, but it’s not. Simon anticipates your needs so well that there’s nothing you need that he doesn’t already provide for you. All you can do is shiver at the way he gives you everything, touches you everywhere.

By the time you’re in the car home, you’re a mess. You can’t sit still, find yourself staring at the side of Simon’s face as he drives. You’re startled when he looks back at you at a red light. He reaches out and you lean in, then jump when he pinches your nipple just hard enough to make you gasp. He watches your face as he pets and plucks, chuckles as you pant and groan and moo.

When the light is green again, he stops. You’re very aware of your right breast.

At the next red, he says, “Give me the other one.”

You do.

“Sweet, pretty girl,” he praises as he tugs at you again. He hums, pleased, as you arch your back. His eyes are dark when he says, “Not wearin’ what I gave you. C’n se y’r nipples beggin’ for attention.

When you look down at yourself, heat flushes through you from your crown to your toes. He’s right, the thin bralette that you’d chosen does nothing to hide you body’s reaction to being teased. And the dress he’d picked for you was already tight around your chest…

The light turns green. You moan as he releases you and turns back to the road.

“What’re you wearin’?” He asks. When you look at him, he’s smirking. “Tell me. Wha’s my pretty girl got under her dress?”

You open your mouth, and your voice sticks. “…Moo?”

“Oh, tha’ sounds nice,” he chuckles. He takes your hand in his. “Lookin’ forward to seein’ it.”

Your thoughts and legs stumble into themselves when you finally walk through your front door. Simon doesn’t let you get far. He catches you around the neck with a big hand and brings you close for a kiss. As soon as the door is shut, his hands make their way to the back of your dress. He unzips and then guides the soft material down until it’s past your hips, and drops down to your feet.

When he pulls away to look at you, his breath catches, and his whole body goes still. You’re so caught in the way his pupils dilate that it takes you a moment to remember the bralette, the panties, the garter belt. The cow print feels like an exaggeration of itself, when you look down at your own breasts. You vaguely remember feeling silly, when you’d put them on, but you don’t remember why. Simon’s eyes are so hot when he looks at you, you can’t help but preen a bit.

“Thought you was jokin,” Simon murmurs, cupping one of your breasts in his hand. His other hand cradles your jaw and makes you look up at him when he pinches your nipple again. His thumb dips into your mouth when you gasp. “But my sweet girl don’t lie to me. An’ she’s always show ready, huh? My sweet, soft girl,” Simon murmurs, going to one knee. He takes one of your hands and kisses your knuckles before placing it on his shoulder. Then he gently lifts your calf to take one of your shoes, then the other as he says, “Not a worry in the world, an’ you still give me so much.”

Even kneeling at your feet, he takes your breath away. His hands smooth up your stockings until he can dip his fingers under the straps of your garters, then he groans. You groan with him. You never know what to do with yourself when he gets like this. Hungry. Reverent on his knees. With a sigh, you close your eyes. You don’t need to know what to do, because he does. The gravity of him makes you sway forward as he leans forward to kiss just above your belly button.

You must signal your mental shift, because Simon stands and lifts you into his arms in the same movement. He kisses your lips like he’s starving. And you try to meet him, try to put everything you haven’t been able to say into the drag of your lips against his.

I love you. Thank you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

You expect him to be rough with you, heavy handed. But Simon is gentle as he touches you all over. When he lays you on the bed, instead of diving into your chest, he keeps kissing your mouth, your neck, down to your shoulder. You can’t stifle a giggle as he sucks kisses into your bicep and down to your forearm.

“Fuck,” he growls. He takes a hold of your hips and gives you a little shake. “You’re so perfect. ‘Ips ‘n thighs ‘n this arse. So strong and still so soft for me.” He dips down to press a kiss to your hip, even as one of his hands starts pinching at your nipple through your bralette again. “Eatin’ good and’ workin’ out ‘n sleepin’ better. Gonna let me give you that life of leisure? No more workin’, pretty girl. Just whatever feels good, whatever makes you ‘appy an’ soft, whatever I c’n give you.”

You try to gasp something that might be “yes” or “please,” but it turns into another drawn out moan. It doesn’t really matter, because Simon flips you onto your hands and knees so fast that your head spins. You almost fall over, but he catches you.

“Sorry sweet girl,” he chuckles. “But you’ve got me so caught up. ‘M gonna take care of you, don’t worry. Just so pretty - distractin’ me.”

Then he’s kissing across your shoulders, then makes his way down to your hipbones. You moan and sigh as his hands grope at you. His hands squeeze at your breasts, then your belly, your thighs, back to your ass. When he bites you, you yelp and groan, arching away from his teeth and into the hands.

“Shh, pretty girl,” he hushes. “’M sorry, I’ll give you what you need. Easy, tha’s it.”

You’re surprised into a gasp by his fingers rubbing gently over your clit through your panties. His other hand eases your back down - from cat to cow, you giggle to yourself - with another shushing sound. The tension bleeds out of your spine at the sound. Simon’s got you, he’s going to take care of you.

“There you go,” Simon rumbles as you drop your head between your arms. He strokes a hand down your back as his other hand gives you just a hint more pressure. “Is that better? Feel nice an’ relaxed?”

You’re feeling less relaxed by the second. Simon knows how to touch you if he wants you to melt. This? Is not that. He’s giving you just enough to tease, to make you instinctively chase his fingers. You shake your head and whimper, shuffling your knees knees further apart and arching your back again. You don’t even try to swallow a grunt of frustration when nothing you do makes him speed up or give you more pleasure.

“Hm?” He presses his lips against your hip as he asks, “Wha’s wrong, pretty girl? You need something?”

You open your mouth to beg, then remember that you can’t say anything. This motherfucker. When you tilt your body to glare at him, his eyes are sparkling with mirth. It’s hard not to smile back, to hold your frown long enough to let him know that you know what he’s doing.

But as usual, he’s a step ahead of you. As soon as you open your mouth to moo sarcastically, he slips a finger under your panties and into you, just as his other hand shoves the bra out of the way to pinch your nipple.

“So wet,” Simon whispers against your cheek. “Took care of everything else today, but you still need more, don’t you? Greedy girl.”

You are wet, have been since before he plucked at your nipples in the car. Since dinner, when he’d explained the cut of his steak, why he liked it. Since he paused and visibly considered what he couldn’t see you wearing. Since he’d looked at you with so much hunger that you’d had to take a sip of your water to gather yourself. You couldn’t say anything, then, by his direction and your own body’s need. You couldn’t make any sound at all, had practically ground your teeth together so you wouldn’t moan like a whore at the table.

Your jaw isn’t clenched now. The sound you make as two thick fingers push in is exactly as obscene as you imagined it would be. They press into you exactly where you want it as his other hand sends sparks through your chest and down your spine. Simon echoes you, breath hot against your face. You can’t keep yourself from chasing his lips with yours.

“Yeah,” he pants between biting kisses. He growls when you rock back into his fingers, and pinches your nipple until you gasp. “Settle, Bambi, ‘m gonna take care o’ you.”

His words melt you. Even as he ratchets your body into more tension, you believe him, and the promise alone is nearly a relief. When he pulls his fingers free, you don’t even think to protest. All you can do is hang your head between your arms and try to catch your breath. Something like a sob scrapes it’s way from your throat when he pushes back in with three.

The sound of Simon undoing his belt makes you tip your hips back and up, automatic. He groans again, deep in his throat, and slaps the meat of your ass. The sharp sting of it reminds you to be almost embarrassed, and you drop to your elbows to bury your face in the bedding.

“There you go,” Simon grunts as he lines himself up. He pushes in slow, so slow, as you pant and writhe and make animal sounds. One of his huge hands comes down to grip the back of your neck as he grunts and shoves deeper. “There’s my sweet girl. Shouldn’t’a kept you waiting. You can take it now, tha’s it.” He leans down, pushing just that little bit deeper as he plucks at your nipple again. He growls against your shoulder, “Gonna do this every day, yeah? Quit your job so I c’n keep you soft like this all the time. Breed you up proper, bet y’re gonna taste so sweet when your milk comes, when it’s all y’ve got to do, just a life of milk ‘n honey.”

You almost can’t make out what he’s saying over the sound of your own noises and the wet sounds of him pushing in and out of you. The fireworks up and down your spine have you writhing back into his thrusts. You can tell he’s rambling, that he’s so lost in your bodies that he’s losing control of his mouth. A change in angle has you crying out again, every nerve on fire as he pushes into you just right. The orgasm that had been building steadily rushes over you. It’s impossible to stop, shakes through your limbs until you collapse onto your chest under him.

“Tha’s it,” Simon hisses, pace steady and devastating as he chases you down to the mattress. “This what you need? Need t’ be bred an’ fucked ‘til you can’t think of nothin’ else? Yeah, tha’s what you need. Gonna make you come on my cock again, fill you up the way you like. Then I’ll hook you up, huh? Can’t leave you wantin’ jus ‘cause I need a break. C’n put a pump at each o’ your tits an’ keep fuckin’ you with a machine, too, ‘til I’m ready to go again, yeah?

Jesus, you think, giggling under him. Your pussy flutters as he gasps something else you can’t quite make out over the rushing in your ears. He wants to ruin you. You want him to, to do all of these things he’s growling about. The thought that he might is thrilling and terrifying, that after he comes and breeds you full he could go to the closet and pull out the machine and the dildo you bought for when he’s deployed to keep fucking you…

Your stomach swoops as you get caught up in your own fantasy. He doesn’t have to stop. You’d be too weak to fight him. And if he tied you up, bound you where he wants to keep you, he could do whatever he wants. Did he actually have a pump, something to pull at your nipples while he watched across the room? Would this be the time he finally surprises you with something you hadn’t quite negotiated? He could, he could, you’d let him, you’d beg-

“Simon!”

The second orgasm hurts. It hits so fast and hard on the heels of the first. You can vaguely feel the wetness running down your thighs as you squirt, legs shaking. Above you, Simon goes abruptly silent as he comes, breath coming out in barely-there grunts as his cock kicks and twitches inside of you.

All of the air huffs out of your lungs as he partially collapses on you. Another giggle stutters out of you. It turns into a moan as he guides your legs down and open so he can grind into you some more until you’re prone. His own gentle chuckle tickles your ear.

“Fuckin’ ell,” he pants. The arm that’s braced to keep his weight off of you shakes a bit. “Gimme… fuck, gimme a minute. ‘Ll get up in a mo’.”

“Mmm,” you hum, kissing at his wrist. You tip your head back to grin up at him. “Moo.”

He crushes you a bit when his laughter makes him fall, but you can’t even pretend to be upset.

[killerkillerkillher]

Bound to Fall in Love

Angel/Demon! 141 x reader

Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish

Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n

A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.

minors dni!

"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."

"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."

You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.

"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.

"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"

"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.

"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.

"Read the book."

He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.

"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.

"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."

Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.

"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.

"Are you serious?"

"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.

"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.

The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.

It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.

If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.

Something in your gut tells you it's not.

In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.

"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.

"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.

Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.

"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.

"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."

There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.

"They're not dead." They say at the same time.

Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.

"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."

The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.

Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.

"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."

"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.

"Or the neck." The other devil offers.

"Or that vein in they're thigh."

"The sephenous, Johnny."

"Yeah, that."

"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!

"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.

"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."

Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.

"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."

"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"

"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."

You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.

"Rah 'ere?"

"Mhm."

You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.

"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.

"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.

Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.

"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"

Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.

"Do what we do best. Bargain."

"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."

There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.

"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"

"I didn't want-"

"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.

"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.

"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."

''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."

"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.

"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.

"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.

Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.

"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."

"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.

"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.

"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.

"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"

"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."

"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."

"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."

Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?

"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."

You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.

"Shit."

That's not good.

Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?

"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."

"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.

"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.

Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.

"Just you and us now, stud."

You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.

"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.

"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."

"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.

"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."

"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"

"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.

And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.

So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?

[starrieangel]

🎄❤️Mouthwashing Crew on Christmas💚🎁

Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday ♡ Here's my present to you all: more headcanons!!

Features: Curly x Reader, Anya x Reader, Daisuke x Reader, Jimmy x Reader

rb's appreciated! 💚❤️

Curly☃️

I think Curly would love surprising you..!

He's up before you, already has the coffee (or hot chocolate or tea) ready for you when you wake up. 

When you finally get out of bed, there's extra presents under the tree, and the tree is even more festive and beautiful than how you left it!!

(Is Curly Santa..??)

He's not materialistic in the slightest, but a good gift means a lot to Curly if it shows you put a lot of thought into it..! It makes him feel special that you are thinking about him ^u^

He's a good gift giver, but bad at wrapping them XD He's trying his best ok !!!

After opening presents, you guys cuddle and watch your favorite goofy christmas movie while cuddled up in your new sweaters/socks/blankets :)

His favorite part of Christmas is Christmas dinner tho, and you guys whip up a big feast and invite all your friends and family !!! 

He’s the classic “my boyfriend only cooks meat” stereotype, like he cant cook but he will fuck up a christmas ham or a thanksgiving turkey or a barbecue.. let him cook fr

Bonus: Curly is definitely the Santa at the office Christmas party..!! Maybe you get to sit on Santa's lap ;D 

Anya❄️

Panicking because she's bad at getting gifts..!! 

She gets to the store and.. oh no there's too many choices

“I'm not sure what candy Y/N likes... I'll just get one of each.. oh dear..”

She would try making handmade gifts like sewing or knitting or crochet but she doesn't get them done til the last minute...

She dang near cries when you see the itchy, raggedy sweater she made you and you beam at her “I love it!!!” and you do! because she made it ♡

I feel like she likes peppermints and candy canes... just her vibe

You two make a gingerbread house together !!

Yes it falls apart a little, but it doesn't matter because you both had so much fun making it :) (and decorating it with all that candy she bought !!)

Bonus: She is a based eggnog drinker. And maybe she does spike her and Daisuke's eggnog at the office Christmas party ;D

Daisuke🎁

Ugly Christmas Sweater Party Winner 3 years in a row

(I like the popular headcannon that Daisuke likes thrifting, so) He loves going to the thrift to find ugly christmas sweaters (so you can match) and even finding cool antiques/retro items to give as gifts!

Always gives at least one prank gift, but otherwise he is pretty thoughtful! 

He doesn't get you a present unless it really reminds him of you! I feel like he gifts thrifted vinyls and jewelry, secondhand designer, like his gifts are honestly peak and they're always perfect for you

He's in charge of the Christmas party!! and he's committed to packing as many christmas themed activities into it as possible

Dedicated Christmas Movie Showing, gotta watch all the classics!

Hot chocolate bar, christmas cookie buffet, pin the nose on the reindeer, ALL OF IT 

Strategically ties mistletoe to ensure highest occurrence of Kissing You ;3 “Uh, oh, Y/N! Looks like we're caught under the mistletoe.. again! How unlucky.. guess we'll have to.. you knowww..” >:3c

Bonus: He would get tipsy at the office christmas party and would try to hug you or kiss you the whole time, and you’re like “plz ur embarrassing me”

Jimmy🎄

Jimmy is actually really good at getting gifts. Like, really good. Like, you mentioned this thing in passing 6 months ago, and he either remembered it or bought it for you and hid it for 6 months. He knows exactly what to get you!

He's not really a huge fan of the holidays

That being said: He enforces Mistletoe rules like it's his job

Everyone thinks he's a grinch, so he doesn't usually get the best presents from others. It doesn't help that he never makes a christmas list or tell anyone what he wants 

(mostly because he doesn't want to be disappointed when he asks for something and doesn't get it, or he's afraid to ask for something “dorky” that he actually really wants)

When you ask him what he wants for christmas, he just kind of shrugs and says he'll like whatever you get him

So it's extra special when you return the favor and get him a gift just as thoughtful as he gave you :) You get him the video game or album or band tee (idk what men like) that he offhandedly mentioned weeks ago :) He can't hold in his surprise that you remembered!

“Woah, babe! I can't believe you remembered.. This is perfect, thank you baby” And then he wraps you into a tight hug!

Bonus: Yea, Jimmy had to fill in as Santa one year when Curly was busy/sick....... He made a kid cry.

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know in the replies what you think, send an ask if you have a request, and rb if u liked! Thanks for reading!💚❤️

Merry Christmas!! ☃️💚🎄❤️❄️❤️🎄💚🎁☃️❄️❤️❄️❤️🎄💚

[prettyboybun]

I am genuinely always thinking about being one of a pair of subs. I'm the obedient bunny, he's the bratty puppy.

Our dom has us kneel for him in the living room after having teased us all day. "Alright, listen, sweet things. I know you're all riled up for me, but I need to go to the store. When I get back, I'll use you both properly, okay?"

We nod, my pup partner squirming already, wiggling his hips. Our dom continues, "You are NOT to touch yourselves until I get back. Got it?"

I nod sweetly, and get my hair ruffled affectionately in return. My sub partner, on the other hand, bites his lip with a glint in his eye, nodding slowly. You could almost hear the cogs turning. Our dom partner gives him a look, but inevitably ruffles his hair as well. "Okay. I'll be back soon, I promise."

We sit still and kneel in the living room until the front door closes and we hear him driving away. Suddenly, my partner pounces on top of me. He's already rutting against my thigh and pressing kisses all over my face and neck.

"B-But," I gasp, "Sir, he said to- He wants us to-"

"I know, baby boy, but I need you so bad right now, he's not gonna have to know," He says, against my neck, "You like this, don't you?"

I groan, "Yes, of course I do, I want you so bad... but I wanna be good for sir..."

"Just don't touch yourself, sweetheart. That's what he said, right? Don't touch yourselves? I'm sure that means I can touch you."

I ponder it for a little bit. Eventually, I nod, biting my lip. I'm still unsure if this is going against sir's wishes, but feeling my puppy boyfriend rutting against me, lips on my neck... It just feels too good after a whole morning of teasing and denial.

Puppy leans up and whispers in my ear, "Good boy." I shiver, hairs standing on end.

I let him manhandle me roughly into the position he wants, which turns out to be frotting our tdicks together. I'm laying on the floor, pinned, whimpering, feeling a little guilty at technically disobeying, but mostly lost in the pleasure.

My puppy looks down at me and says, "Don't cum, either, bunny. You have to wait til sir gets back for that one, definitely."

I nod, breathless. Then I open my eyes and look at him questioningly, "What about you?"

He smirks and rakes his claws down the center of my chest, leaving four pretty red scratches. I moan, and he says, "I can take whatever he's gonna dish. Don't you worry your pretty little head- After all, who's making the rules right now?"

I whimper, "Y-You, sir."

"Good boy."

We stay like that, him roughly grinding into me as I whine and moan beneath him. Eventually, though, the door opens, and I gasp and try to squirm out of my puppy's grip. We weren't supposed to still be playing when he got back. But puppy isn't relenting, he's still rocking his hips sharply against me.

"What do we have here?" Our dom says, a little amused. He surely would have guessed this would happen.

Puppy grunts as he continues grinding on me, "Welcome back, sir." I look at him and he's looking him dead in the eyes, smirking.

"Oh, puppy. Just couldn't wait, could you?" Sir sets down the grocery bags on a table, and walks over and picks pup off me with ease.

I start scrambling to sit up, but my dom presses his boot to my chest and gently lays me back down. "Still, bun, stay here. Let me deal with our boy and then I'll be back for you, okay?" I nod, looking up at him with soft eyes. "There's a good boy."

For a little while, behind me, I hear struggling, teasing, and soft moans. Then, my dom comes back over to me and lifts me up into his arms, walking us over to his armchair. This is when I see that our puppy is tied up spread open on the couch, gagged, but noticeably drippy and empty. Sir sits me down in his chair on his lap, facing puppy.

"Spread your legs, bunny," He murmurs into my ear. I do as he asks immediately, earning a quiet, "Good boy..." In response.

I turn my head to look at him and start saying, "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to disobey, I-"

He shushes me, petting my hair, "Oh, bunny, that's not your fault. I know you need touched, puppy just decided that it was his responsibility to do so. Isn't that right, pup?"

Puppy says something in snarky defiance, surely, muffled against his gag. "Exactly. I know you're my good boy, bun. That's why I'm gonna overstimulate you on my lap right now while your pup watches and can't do anything about it." My eyes widen, starry. I see that sir is smirking at puppy. Our pup squirms and growls against his bonds.

I lean back against our dom's chest, also looking at puppy as I begin to have my tdick touched, softly at first. Then, he applies pressure, making me moan quietly. Teasingly, he uses his fingers to spread my bunnycunt open on display at pup.

"Doesn't he look so pretty like this, puppy?" At this point, our pup is ravenously trying to get out of his bonds, but he's tied up too tightly. Sir adopts a fake pity tone as he says, "Aw, I know, puppy. You just wanna use him so bad, don't you?"

Sir plunges a finger inside me and curls it, making me gasp and moan loudly, "That's it, good bunny. Let every sound out, I want him to hear how good I make you feel."

I do as he asks, making obscene sounds as his fingers fuck in and out of me, thumb circling my tdick. He growls gently in my ear, "You need to tell me when you're close, okay, bunny?"

"I- um- I'm close sir, so close for you, sir," I babble, already feeling so overwhelmed with sensation.

"Cum for us, bunny. Cum all over my fingers." I clench down and shudder, crying out and cumming all over his hand. He doesnt take his fingers out, but he gives me a little bit of time to breathe before he starts fucking me again.

Eventually, I cum the same way again. Then a third, and a fourth time, stacking them back to back against each other. After I've cum five times, I'm absolutely spent. He takes his fingers out, cleans them off, and pets my hair and shoulders, letting me slump against him bonelessly.

Our puppy has given up on getting out of his restraints, but he's whining softly, looking at us with big eyes. Sir motions for me to kneel down on the floor, and I do so, a little slumped.

He walks over to puppy and plays with his dripping hole as he says, "Good boy, good puppy. You took that so well, I know that was difficult. Are you ready for your reward?" Puppy nods, frantically. "Come here, bunny, kneel in front of him."

I happily crawl over, kneeling in front of my pup, smiling softly at him. Sir takes his gag out and says, "Tell him what you want, pup. Nicely, if you would, our boy is a little overwhelmed as you might imagine."

"Pl... Please suck my tdick, bunny."

I oblige, glad to have him down my throat. He throws his head back and moans as I start to flick my tongue. Sir teases his nipples for a while, watching me service him. "Such good boys, both of you. You're both so good for me, I'm so proud of you, so proud to be your owner."

Eventually, sir takes my head and starts fucking my mouth on puppy's dick. Puppy moans louder than ever, babbling about how good it feels, thanking us both. Sir fucks my throat on it harder, growling, "That's it. Take it, take it, both of you."

I moan into his tdick, sending loud vibrations straight through him. Puppy jerks his hips up in time with my mouth bobbing on him, crying out, "Sir, I'm gonna cum!"

"Cum for me, puppy, cum down his throat," I can hear sir whisper in his ear. Pup cums explosively down my throat, covering my face in it.

Sir gently pulls my head off, as I stare off in a subspace daze. Puppy is panting, as our dom makes quick work of untying him, "Good boys. You're both so good for me, took that all so well."

He lies puppy back on the couch against him, and motions for me to lay on him as well. I jump up, eager to get snuggled after all that intense play, and he chuckles sweetly at me. Sir pets my hair when I get nestled into his embrace, "Good boy, there you go. Much better, love having both my sweet boys in my arms."

Puppy leans up to kiss me gently on the forehead. They both keep praising me and each other, and I deliver slurred praise back where I can, eventually drifting off peacefully in their safe embrace.