#the golden raven bingo

[the-siren-queens-lover]

The Golden Raven Bingo🏵💔⚜️🍂

Yall got all the rest down. All I know is that we're gonna be in tears.

[atlalasassy]

My Sunshine Court Trilogy bingo!!

[andrew-03-minyard]

the golden raven bingo:

<- my assumptions

[the-gay-cousin-666]

So now that we know the official name, I feel it's a good time to share the finished thing

Disclaimer I wrote this when TSC was still supposed to be a duology so now I think a lot of these could be in book 3. But I'm not changing it. Have fun.

I'm waiting for my copy of TSC to come in the mail and I'm itching to make a bingo for the next book is anyone else interested?

[bucknastysbabe]

IGHT THIS IS GONNA BE FOR YOUR BINGO POST !! 🩷🩷and you can throw this in the garbage is it ain't to your standards 🤪 but I'm thinking: Aegon ii x Bethroned! Reader-- LITTLE AGNST , FLUFF, SMUT (maybe if you want to) (Arranged Marriage) where Alicent has gotten extremely tired of options with what she can do to keep Aegon in line from committing more atrocious acts that she and Otto decided it was best to not only have a noble that is the complete opposite of him --keep him in line but to also form relations with against the blacks since (readers family) contains good army and weaponry.

Aegon is not fond of this marriage but changes his mind when he sees (reader) for the first time.

YENI YENI BO BENI!!!! I loved this w my whole heart and had tons of fun, so refreshing! We got a little angst, plenty of fluff, and some devious smut😏 I’m so glad you sent the ask, enjoy mwah mwah mwah!!!!

AU Bingo - Arranged Marriage - Aegon II

Rating: Mature, explicit at the end.

Tags: Arranged marriage, douche Aegon falls in LOVE, Redwyne!reader, Cringefail baby Aeg and his shifty family dynamics, TW: verbal abuse, Aegon’s derogatory thinking, non-descript throwing up, fluffity fluff fluff, big tiddy Arbor gf, soft kissing, a little groping, cumming in pants, clitoral orgasm, crying erotically, oh it’s happily ever after tonite, Aemond and Criston stay being done w Aegon

In the dimly lit council chamber, Lord Hand Otto Hightower and Queen Alicent pondered over a map of Westeros. A bottle of wine was split between the pair, something to dull the utter stress that was marrying their eldest. He had already refused Helaena and succeeded by torturing enough bugs. Or that the heir walled himself up in a whorehouse surrounded by gold cloaks until Ser Criston announced that Prince Aemond would wed the princess.

Outside the whorehouse.

Aegon’s antics had worsened as he grew older with no ‘ball and chain’, so to speak. Otto sighed, “I fear we have no more choices left,” his long fingers curled tighter around the golden cup, “Not a house with enough power, that isn’t already pledged to Rhaenyra.

Alicent wanted to scream. She grabbed the bottle of wine and went to pour. Then stopped suddenly, brown eyes searching up at her father. The queen asked, “Say, what about the Redwynes? They have money, daughters, and that precious fleet. 200 warships.”

Otto’s once dull eyes gleamed and he smiled pleasantly. He hummed, “Smart, smart girl. Marten has two beautiful maidens from what I’ve heard. The Arbor is always loyal to Oldtown.”

“I’ll send a raven immediately.”

Aegon had begged the maidservant to pull his cock until she had ran off crying. He shrugged and grabbed the bottle of wine, slugging it with no care in the world. Until it was ripped from his greedy lips. The blonde sputtered and water splashed as he met his mother’s disappointed eyes. No surprise there.

Alicent spat, “Do you ever spend your time doing something productive? Aemond’s been in the yard for hours.”

“Aemond’s a stiff cunt.”

Aegon frowned when a hand crossed his cheek. His mother hissed, “You will not speak of your brother like that! Pay attention, there’s news regarding your bachelorhood.” Aegon rolled his eyes and sat up, staring silently, sullen. He knew this was to come but dreaded it every night.

The queen opened a scroll and read off, “I, Lord Marten Redwyne of the Arbor— approve of the betrothal between my eldest and Prince Aegon. Good tidings and we hope to arrive with some ships within a fortnight.”

Aegon giggled, “You’re marrying me to the wine house’s daughter? How fitting.”

Another crack on the cheek. Aegon shut up, tears now stinging his violet eyes. His mother hissed, “She’s from a very powerful, devout, and noble family. That fleet will keep your head on your shoulders when Rhaenyra comes to lop it off. Clean yourself up!”

As she exited the room with a dissatisfied scoff, Aegon felt more tears well up. He suddenly felt very alone and frightened. Gods forbid she can’t stand the sight of him like any other nobility. He wept softly, shaking fingers clinging to his bottle. Funny enough, it was Arbor Red. His favorite.

Aegon busied himself drowning in whores and spirits the weeks, then days, leading up to his betrothed’s arrival. So much so that he hadn’t left the Street of Silk since the announcement. They hadn’t sent Criston out either. He desperately hoped they would magically forget about him here.

The whore sucking his cock hummed softly, Aegon arching a bit into her mouth. He wondered what the girl would look like. Not that it mattered. He closed his eyes and slid a ringed finger into her hair, fucking the whores throat with a soft moan.

As soon as he came, the door flung open. Aegon jerked away from the light pouring in, hissing and cursing the fiend who so dared to interrupt his climax.

Long fingers grabbed his arm and jerked the blonde off the bed into a mess of limbs onto the floor. A familiar voice uttered, “Pathetic.” Oh joyous day, it was Aemond, his knight in shining armor. Aegon whined in annoyance, “You didn’t have to manhandle me like some Yunkish brute!” The younger prince crossed his arms, face impassive.

“You fucking reek. Get your clothes on, it’s time to meet your betrothed.”

Aegon pressed a forefinger and thumb into his pounding eyes, mumbling, “Fine, give me a second.” Aemond hummed in distaste, shifting on his feet. The whore scurried out, the clink of coin hitting her hands from the younger. He shuffled blearily over to where his clothes were last, putting them on haphazardly.

Aegon realized his breeches were on backwards but really couldn’t give a bigger fuck. He needed a drink for this hangover. Aemond barked from behind, “Let’s go! You’re so slow brother.” Aegon cursed him again and followed behind, shuffling. Fear and bile were beginning to rise in his throat.

The ensuing ride on horseback with a lecture from Cole had Aegon throwing up on some poor peasant’s blanket covered in wares. More coin had to be given out from Aemond for that. The heir felt absolutely horrid by the time they had reached the Red Keep.

He remained silent through his mother’s verbal torture, the scrub down and dressing, then left alone in his chambers. Aegon’s headache had died down a bit but he was shaky. He idly got up and stared into the mirror. A haggard, dull eyed face met his own. Aegon thumbed at the red rims and dark bags under his eyes, frowning.

He skimmed a hand down his midsection, growing further despondent at the residual puffiness from overindulging at meals and the drink. Maybe she would see something in him. Probably not, the rumor mill was rampant around Westeros. Aegon was aware there wasn’t much to him but an inherited title, a name, and a dragon.

Ser Criston peeped in the door, brown eyes squinting. He asked, “Are you ready my prince? You look…groomed.” Aegon sighed and followed along the white knight, tremors threatening to overtake his frame. They walked and walked to the throne room, his decrepit father having managed to make it onto the Iron Throne. Some smaller lord was petitioning him and Otto.

Aegon searched the crowds of people, looking for something. He didn’t even know what their coat of arms looked like. Probably burgundy. Wine. He wanted wine so bad. Otto cleared his throat as soon as Aegon joined the retainer of the Targaryens.

The Hand dismissed the lord and peered at Viserys for approval. The king nodded and rasped, “Lords and ladies, we have a grand announcement.” A gasp erupted across the crowd, Aegon curled into himself. Otto boomed, “House Redwyne please come forward!”

The nobility peered at the group of burgundy and blue clad group coming up towards the throne. There were two girls clad in the rich red, one distinctly more gorgeous than the other. She had thick hair elegantly done, soft glowing skin, and pretty eyes. Aegon prayed over and over that she would be the one.

He was so struck with desire all thoughts and whims had flown out the doors. The young woman’s body was shapely— heavy tits pushed up by the dress. Fuck, Aegon might be in love. If that existed. Aemond had pushed him forward, the elder prince realizing they had called his name.

Aegon cleared his throat and walked towards his father and Otto’s intense gaze, eyes glued to the beauty. She was singled out now, family having stayed behind. The lady smiled gently at him, demure and gentle. Aegon held a hand out and took her hand, kissing the soft skin as his grandfather announced the betrothal to the excitement of the people.

Then she was whisked away, Aegon almost crying from the suddenness. Alicent had him back on the sides now, whispering, “You did good son. Don’t ruin her like you do everything else please.”

Aegon swallowed heavily. He didn’t want that either.

They sat together again at dinner. Aegon tried to suppress his urge to gorge and suck down anything alcoholic. She nervously peeked at him, smiling still. He finally leaned closer to the beauty and hummed, “You are the most gorgeous maiden I have laid eyes on. If you ever need anything, please let me know. The Red Keep will swallow anything whole.”

Her eyes widened a bit, pretty hand dropping her fork. The Redwyne girl blushed and demurred, “I’m honored you think so my prince, all I ask of you is to accompany me to the sept and mayhaps around the Keep. Just so I do not get swallowed whole.”

Aegon wanted to screech at the idea of sitting in the cold, domineering sept. But he found himself agreeing enthusiastically, “Yes, yes my dear lady, I’d only be doing my duty to keep my lovely betrothed safe.” Watching her grin and stifle a giggle made the prince’s nausea at being a lovesick buffoon die down.

He walked her to her quarters after the meal, disposing of the delightful vixen at the door with a courtly kiss of the cheek. Too bad the dog Cole was watching with dark eyes behind them. Looming like an angry ghost.

Once back in his own rooms, Aegon sipped on his wine, grinning like the fool. She was perfect. Maybe a bit stuffy and devout, but a ray of goodness in his debauchery laden life. Miserable life. The sweet thing didn’t even coyly bring up his past, like most of the ladies who wanted into the blonde’s bed. He found himself waiting for the morn, eager to walk with her to the Sept.

The family was rightfully surprised at their wily heir becoming the picture of courtly love. Attentive, sober, and kind as he tended to the new additions simple and kind requests. They attended the sept every day, had luncheons in the Godswood, even made it to court for petitions.

Alicent and Otto even visited Aegon to praise him for his good behavior. Which the blonde scoffed and hissed, “It’s not me, it’s the girl. Glad I needed an attachment to garner approval.” Which did not end well but Aegon needn’t care, he had his Redwyne waiting on him afterward.

He wanted the maiden so very bad. But he wasn’t going to ruin the wait. Something about tearing her open with his cock for the first time had Aegon stripping himself raw every night, gasping her name and staining his belly white. Mayhaps he could play with her a bit, but he’d be the good prince for once and keep his manhood tucked away, almost regretfully.

She had tested him a bit as of late. Curling into his frame under the heart tree, holding hands that somehow ended in her lap. Shared sweet little kisses that turned breathless, the lady’s heavy bosom heaving from excitement. She wanted him too, the heady haze in her eyes if they were too close for too long.

Like now for instance. They had supped in the Godswood yet again. After a long and arduous conversation about Aegon’s past. The sweet thing thumbed away his tears and murmured, “I do not judge you, seeking company in a loveless place. We all can be slaves to our vices. I only hope that I may fill that hole in your heart, dearest betrothed.”

Aegon tried not to weep, sniffling a bit. He smiled, lips puffy from biting them, and kissed her ever so gently against the lips. He sighed, “Is it so bad that you may be the best thing that has happened in my dim life?” She stroked his soft curls and simpered, “No, my dear prince, you’ve brightened my days since I’ve come. I was so scared you’d find me unbecoming.”

“Never,” Aegon promised with intense pecks, “Never, I have been struck since I first saw you.” She cried his name softly, throwing silk covered arms around his neck, pressing her soft body to his own. This was the closest they had been, the maiden practically in his lap. Aegon reached a hand around to her lower back for stabilization, the other coming to her cheek to tilt for better access.

She was less experienced as he predicted, but that made the possessive streak in his heart grow tenfold. He would show her, show the sweet nymph the pleasures of touch. All his.

They lapped into each other’s mouth in slow movements, Aegon leading the way. She was tentative and slow, gasping when he suckled softly on her tongue. The adorable thing pressed closer, whining softly as Aegon dominated the kiss.

She hiccuped, “Oh, my prince, ah, we mustn’t.”

Aegon smiled as she drew closer, curling lithe fingers into his chopped locks. He murmured, “I will save your precious maidenhead for our wedding day, as befits the pact.” Pausing for a effect with a sharp nip to her plump lower lip, earning a yelp, Aegon continued, “I can show you other ways to achieve pleasure, if you’d like.”

She warbled needily, “Please Aegon, oh, but we cannot be seen!”

“Come on then my lady,” Aegon offered as he scrambled up, holding a hand out.

They giggled nervously as Aegon pulled them into a sculpted Alcove, hidden by shrubbery and a statue of a snarling dragon. He laid his cloak down and gestured for her to sit between his thighs. Her cheeks darkened as she whimpered, “I- I’ve never.”

Aegon cooed, “Our little secret, my sweet girl.”

She climbed down and rested flush against Aegon’s front, breathing sped up again. He nuzzled and pressed featherlight kisses to her neck, humming, “Do you trust me my lady?” The girl whined, “Yes, yes, you’ve given me no reason not to.”

“Good.”

Now he nosed up to the sensitive skin under her jaw, lapping and suckling soft enough to leave no marks, but she whimpered and shivered like it was heaven. One of her dainty hands clutched at his thigh like a lifeline. Aegon reached a ringed hand around to massage her heavy breast, earning the most wanton moan.

She squeaked in shock, covering her mouth, cheeks aflame. Aegon huffed a laugh, “Poor sweetling, I bet they’re so sensitive, gorgeous tits like yours aching to be touched.”

“More, yes Aegon, please!”

So he groped and got his fill, eventually easing down her top to expose busty chest. Aegon plucked and thumbed her plush buds, growing harder and harder at her little whimpers and bitten-off squeals. Gods, she was divine,

“Sweetness, sweetness,” Aegon hummed.

Teary eyes and swollen lips slowly turned to look at him, face wrought with ecstasy. He rambled, “I will not go near your maidenhead, but let me help you, is your sweet cunny aching?”

She whined, eyes shut tight, “Ohhh- yes it hurts!”

His violet eyes shifted to see where her plush thighs were rubbing together with need. He grinned and held back his snicker, “I’ll make you feel better my sweet. Poor, poor nymph. I’ve got you.” She turned and buried her head half into his shoulder, whimpering and shaking.

Aegon kissed the crown of her head, snaking a hand to get under her long velvety dress. His eyes rolled at the feeling of her engorged and slick cunt, throbbing with blood. Poor thing really was riled up, squealing when he slid his pointer and index across the collected slick.

The prince instantly swirled around her plump button, watching her arch and spread those shapely thighs. Those teats of hers bounced as she heaved and whined. Aegon rubbed her in tight little circles, knowing she’d be a proper mess. So he went back to tweaking a nipple, cooing when his perfect betrothed’s eyes rolled back in her head.

Drool slipped down her full lips at the onslaught of pleasure, Aegon praising and promising filthy sweetness in her ear. The nymph began to twitch and tremble all over, whimpers turning into huffy little sobs. She hiccuped, “A-ah, Aegon! I-I-I oh!” He grinned as she seized tight as a bow and gushed slick, thrashing when she reached the precipice.

The heir worked her through the intense feeling until she pushed his hand away, yanking up her top. Aegon pet her sweaty hair, suddenly aware that he too, had spent all in his breeches like a green boy. He’d laugh, but focused on coddling and holding his pretty girl until she had calmed.

She finally turned to him with wide eyes, questioning so achingly small, “This wasn’t bad right? We will not be cursed no? I- It felt so good my love.”

Aegon cooed yet again, violet eyes soft, body feeling like a puddle of mush. He shook his head, promising, “We keep your precious maidenhead intact, then this is nothing but a little play. A forecast of what’s to come when we’re truly one.”

She nodded slowly, reaching out to straighten his frizzy locks. The lady of the Arbor puckered her lips, reaching up for Aegon. He chastely kissed her— humming in full content.

“Oh the gods have blessed me, yes they have,” he almost weeped.

[robthegoodfellow]

Comment Bingo: Billy Hargrove Edition

Very simple rules: comment on a fic with the given tag in a particular square; repeat until you've completed 5 squares in a line

Very simple goals: encourage readers to comment on fics; encourage fandom writers to KEEP WRITING (about Billy)

Since this card is sooo hyper-specific to my personal interests, I'm posting this here rather than on the bingo blog 😅

Depending on demand, there's also a "deep cut tags" version in the works (featuring beloved but less-used tags: Touch-Starved, Billy in the Upside Down, Lifeguard Billy, etc). Thanks to everyone who made suggestions (@stranger-rants, @harringroveobsessed, @magniloquent-raven, and ESPECIALLY @ihni)

STEPS:

Download Bingo Card HERE (png) or HERE (jpg) or HERE (pdf)

Complete the tasks on the card, marking off each as you go, until you've completed 5 in a line (vertical, horizontal, or diagonal; center ♥️ is a free space)

POST your winning card (or list your filled squares) and tag @robthegoodfellow or @feedthefandomfest! Glory in your victory.

REWARD:

✨ victory badges ✨

New badge for this card, but here are examples from previous cards:

Tag me when you earn a bingo (or double, triple, quadruple... FULL CARD bingo) and I'll reblog a shiny badge with your name on it to commemorate the win.

FAQ:

Can I comment on tumblr or only on AO3?

Either one is great! This card especially is more designed with AO3 in mind, but some can be adjusted to suit tumblr as well, so I say go for it. Tumblr fics deserve love, too.

Can one comment count toward multiple squares if the fic fits more than one category?

Since the goal is for as many fics to receive comments as possible, try to comment on a different fic for each square.

Is there a time limit?

Nope! Take your time or set your own deadline, whatever works for you.

Do I have to record progress on the actual card?

Nope! If it’s easier to keep track in a different way, that’s fine. This is all very honor system, so if you say you earned a Bingo, we’ll call it a win 🎉

Some people have been tracking not just completed tasks, but the fics they read along the way, so that when they post a bingo, they can also promote the fics/authors in a little rec list. Not required, but definitely cool to see!

Can I adjust the task in a particular square to suit my comfort level?

Of course! If you deliver something in the spirit of the task, then it’s all good. Use your best judgement in constructing a comment that will make the author smile, and you can consider it a job well done.

In general, so long as each square has produced at least one comment, you’re golden and I salute you 🫡

Happy commenting!!

[thelittlelostgraycat]

waking up from surgery to see that the next aftg book is called the golden raven wasn't on my 2024 bingo list

[the-french-belphegor]

So I wrote down three fic ideas for @critter-genfic-events's bingo card, one funny, one bittersweet, and one bittersweet with a heavy helping of sad, and for some reason my brain went "SAD. SAD FIRST", so here I am. Writing something with cuddling/missing someone/angst/post-campaign. I'll post it on AO3 (user name "Belphegor") ASAP.

—

The night was soft, warm, and silent. Pike barely heard the bedroom door open and a quiet footfall pad closer, floating as she was in that particular state between half-asleep and half-awake. She liked to try to stay up on the nights Scanlan played a Westruun tavern, but she was so comfortable despite the empty spot in the bed that she’d given up fighting off sleep long ago.

The mattress dipped a little on Scanlan’s side, tipping the balance towards consciousness. Then, surprisingly, nothing happened for a few long seconds.

Outside, an owl hooted.

“How’d it go?” she murmured eventually. Through the mattress she felt her boyfriend give a start.

“Sorry,” he said in a low voice. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Eh. I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup, absolutely,” she mumbled around a smile, very aware that she was slurring her words so much only someone who’d known her for as long as Scanlan had could make sense of them. Burying her face into the pillow probably didn’t help, either.

Scanlan didn’t make a witty remark or huff out a laugh. From what she could feel, he didn’t even move from his spot.

The silence and stillness jarred Pike awake completely.

“Scanlan?” she asked, rubbing her eyes to get them to focus faster. “Is everything okay?”

He was sitting on the edge of the bed with one leg tucked under him, bare-chested but wearing the short loose trousers he liked to sleep with.

(Scanlan liked to keep pants on at night in case of emergencies – or in case Grog barged in, which did happen occasionally. Pike had slept naked for four decades, most of them under the same roof as or a stone’s throw from her adopted brother, and saw no reason for things to change.)

When she spoke, he half turned to her and schooled his face into a smile instead of the half-lost look she could have sworn had been there a second ago.

“Sure. I should play the Golden Buck more often. You should see the fortune I made in tips!”

But the thing was, if Scanlan had known her long enough to decipher her words even when she was drunk, exhausted, or loopy from blood loss, Pike had learned a thing or two about him in that time, too. Kaylie remained the only person in existence who could tell in a heartbeat when he was lying, but Pike was getting pretty good at that as well.

She sat up and scooted closer. He’d placed a small candleholder on his bedside table, most likely to avoid tripping in the dark; the tiny flickering flame outlined the slope of his shoulders, the ridges of his worst scars, the vulnerable spot where his neck met his shoulder that she loved to kiss.

No point in calling him out for lying, even by omission. That would only be stating the obvious. Thus Pike jumped directly to the next logical step.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

Scanlan’s shoulders slumped a little.

“Nothing. Just…” Emotion rippled across his face, like a breeze on water, and something about him crumbled. “Somebody requested ‘The Raven’s Wings’ again.”

Oh.

Scanlan had written many songs since the rise and fall of Vecna, mostly about Vox Machina. (Many were about Pike in some way or another. Her favourite of those was probably ‘The Lady’s Favour’, a cheerful ballad with the kind of lyrics that had to be sung after making sure the kids had all gone to bed.) A few of them were about Vax, of course, some cheeky, some solemn. ‘The Raven’s Wings’ was melancholic and haunting and unabashedly heartfelt; Scanlan had written most of it in one night while getting absolutely shitfaced with Pike and Grog. It had taken all of Pike’s powers of persuasion to convince him to actually make a real song out of it instead of burning the stained paper he’d scribbled the lyrics on.

She loved that song. Sometimes the melody snuck into her mind unexpectedly, and it felt both like poking a bruise and soothing an old hurt.

But she suspected it was somewhat different for Scanlan. Like everyone else, really.

Scanlan shivered a little when she gingerly wrapped herself around him from behind, skin to skin, scars to scars.

“It is a beautiful song, you know,” she said softly. “He’d love it.”

“It’s sappy, though.”

“What’s wrong with that?” The fact that Scanlan didn’t have a rejoinder was a good sign. Or a bad one, depending. “It’s a lovely tribute.”

This drew a sharp sigh from beneath her hands. She held him just a little tighter and waited.

“Yeah, but that’s… That’s it, it’s just a tribute. It doesn’t even say anything important about him. There’s nothing about what he was like, or… You know, like he was both really simple and really complex at the same time? I mean, he was such a shit, and he could brood worse than Percy, but also he was this ray of sunshine when he was happy… And he laughed, and he cried, and he wore his heart on his fucking sleeve and he let the whole world see it like it didn’t matter, and I never…”

He let out something that might have been a chuckle if not for the catch in his throat.

“I meant to ask him how he did that. Missed my shot in the end.”

“He made it look real easy,” murmured Pike, putting her chin on his collarbone, “but it’s really hard. But… I guess sometimes we do need reminders that it’s okay to, you know, feel things and show it. Even the bad stuff.” She paused. “Like the world’s not gonna stop because I say out loud that my friend is dead, and I miss my friend, and I’m sad.”

The worst thing about losing someone dear, Pike had found, were the regrets. The I should haves. The might have beens. She knew Scanlan still carried the weight of the wish he didn’t get to make; Scanlan knew about the quiet poisoned voice in her heart that sometimes whispered that her words to Vax – if the Raven Queen fucks with you, or hurts you, or doesn’t change you for the better, then she’s going to have to deal with me, and we’re going to have a problem – turned out to be meaningless and empty promises. She hadn’t been able to save him any more than Scanlan had, or any of them.

But at least she’d learned to stop pretending she was fine so everybody else could be okay. And start remembering they had each other to be not okay with.

Scanlan shifted a little in her arms to press a kiss into her temple and rested his forehead there for a moment.

And he prided himself on his words, that man of hers, but he didn’t give himself enough credit for his silences.

After a while, she asked him in a low voice, “Did you play the song?”

A two-tone hum answered her, then a wry chuckle. “I mean, I had asked for requests. And I know it’s not, you know, terrible music. Just… I could write all the songs I want and it still wouldn’t do him justice.” A beat. “What would you say? In a song about Vax, I mean. What would you like remembered?”

A soft smile with sharp edges. Warmth shining through sadness. Long hands with clever fingers, always gentle, even covered in blood. A trickster’s love for pranks. Mostly a heart so wide it could have contained enough love for a whole world and more.

“Fun buns,” she said softly.

“Hm?”

“We had this… thing, this little habit of doing each other’s hair up into fun buns. And… You know how he’d have a nickname for everyone? Nobody else ever called me ‘Pickle’. Just him. That’s a good thing to remember, I guess.”

Scanlan gently ran a hand up her forearm, rubbing the little hairs there the wrong way.

“I could work that into a song, if you’d like. Might even have a melody ready.”

Pike immediately shook her head.

“Oh no, it’s… That’s…”

Those memories were precious, and private, and hers. Sharing them with Scanlan, Grog, Vex, Keyleth, Percy, Tary – each of whom had their own set of precious private memories of Vax – was fine. But perfect strangers, who only knew of the Champion of the Matron of Ravens through what was essentially becoming folklore? That felt almost sacrilegious, in a way.

“…Don’t,” she finished lamely. “I know it’s stupid, but I kinda… want to keep some part of him for myself, I guess.”

“It’s not stupid,” murmured Scanlan into her hair. She could have sworn she could feel him grin just before he added, at the same low volume but in a very different tone, “Guess I’ll have to make it about the musician and the brave, strong sailor with the perfect breasts again. Sea shanties are always a win, right?”

“Idiot,” said Pike with a laugh that warmed her chest on the way up.

She knew she’d made her point, though – nicknames and fun buns would remain in the family. That still left Scanlan with plenty of material to write about Vax, anyway.

The conversation faded naturally after that. Pike blew the candle after she realised she was falling asleep right there against Scanlan, whose shoulders were still slumped, but for entirely different reasons than when he’d come in.

The night was still soft, warm, and silent. The bed felt much more comfortable with Scanlan clinging to her, one leg sprawled across her thighs and his head resting in the crook between her shoulder and her left breast. Everything was just as it should be – or the two of them were, at least. That was something.

She was teetering on the brink and starting to think him asleep too when she felt a touch of moisture on her chest, under his head, just where the corner of his eye would be. Then another.

“…Scanlan?” she mumbled.

He didn’t move; he only said thickly, in a voice so low she barely made out the words, “My friend is dead. I miss him. And I’m sad.”

Magic couldn’t fix everything, no matter how powerful. Words couldn’t really bring someone back, no matter how enticing. Sometimes the only thing left to do was to hold each other and let themselves grieve together.

Scanlan’s breathing came heavy and halting against her skin. She closed her arms tighter around him and murmured, “I know. Me too.”

They did fall asleep eventually, before their tears had dried.

—

I loved my friend.  He went away from me.  There’s nothing more to say.  The poem ends,  Soft as it began,— I loved my friend. 

(Langston Hughes)

(I almost went with Bastille's "Poet" but Hughes' poem rewired my brain long before I knew about either Bastille or Critical Role, so. I'm not ruling out the song one day, though.)

Here's hoping the next one is more cheerful! In the meantime, hope you liked 💜

[lionspawfic]

Send A Raven: Open

Ao3: Lions_Paw_Fic

Current Poll: Character Fates for The Golden Queen

House of the Dragon Timeline: Working on a speculative timeline for the TV series.

CURRENT FICS:

Tooth And Claw (Modern Character In Westeros, SI-OC as Joffrey) | 3/?

Waking up as the evil child king of Westeros was not in Joffrey's 2024 Bingo card but here he is. Now, all he needs to do is figure out how to survive a civil war, the ice zombie apocalypse, and the looming threat of the dragon queen across the sea.

Oh, and settling if he's in the books or the TV show would be really helpful.

Lioness Rampant (Modern Character In Westeros, SI-OC as Cersei) | 2/?

It said a lot–bad things mostly–that Cersei Lannister's life may have been an upgrade.

SI finds herself as Cersei at the tail end of Season One.

The Funeral of the Century (Modern AU HOTD Mixed Epistolary, Chat Fic) | 2/?

Viserys Targaryen, respected stateman, dies and this draws all of his dysfunctional family back together.

COMING SOON:

To Shield The Realms Of Man (Time Travel Fix-It) | 0/?

In which Bran decides to find a better ending for the world.

The Golden Queen (Omegaverse, Jace/Aegon) | 0/?

Aegon presents as an Omega and Viserys jumps at the chance to secure peace. Aegon has to deal with the fallout in the change of power, politics, and his own place in society.

Strands of Green, Strands of Black (Jacelaena AU, No Dance of the Dragons) | 0/?

Viserys decides to push for the arrangement Rhaenyra offered against Alicent's wishes. Helaena Targaryen and Jacarys Velaryon are engaged to wed the day Jace turns fifteen.

A beast beneath the boards sleeps at last.

The Winter of the Two Queens (Rhaenicent AU, Team Black Wins) | 0/?

The first winter that follows the end of the Dance, the Queen of Chains reunites with the pensive Dragon Queen and the last remains of their family. Inspired by The Lion In Winter.

The Widow of Winterfell & The Rise of the Red Lion (ACoK/Season 2 Canon Divergent Duology, Robbaery + Sansa/?) | 0/?

Parallel stories covering two significant changes in the timeline.

Margaery and Loras were in the tent when Renly dies and Margaery flees with Catelyn and Brienne, leading to a Tyrell-Stark Alliance. One sealed through Margaery's marriage to Robb Stark.

Without the Tyrell backing, Twins is delayed, and the Battle of the Blackwater harder fought. Cersei and Tommen are found in the throne room later. Sansa floundering finds her place slipping into Cersei’s abandoned seat as Queen in King’s Landing.

Pairings: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Brienne of Tarth/Jaime Lannister, Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling, Robb Stark/Talisa Maegyr, Robb Stark/Jaime Lannister (This surprised me too), Robb Stark / or & Theon Greyjoy, Margaery Tyrell/Sansa Stark, Rhaenyra Targaryen/Alicent Hightower, Rhaenyra Targaryen/Harwin Strong, Alicent Hightower/Criston Cole, Aegon II Targaryen/Jacaerys Velaryon, Baela Targaryen/Jacaerys Velaryon, Jace Velaryon/Helaena Targaryen

Favorite Characters: Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Daenerys Targaryen, Jaime Lannister, Jon Snow, Asha | Yara Greyjoy, Theon Greyjoy, Catelyn Stark, Ned Stark, Alicent Hightower, Laena Velaryon, Robb Stark, Val, Gilly, Samwell Tarly, Cersei Lannister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Brienne of Tarth, Arianne Martell, Davos Seaworth, Aegon II Targaryen, Jacaerys Velaryon, Helaena Targaryen

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[i-have-not-slept]

By The Angel Bingo Prompt — Free Space

Pairing: Malec

This is for the By The Angel Bingo hosted by @malecdiscordserver

For my free space, I chose the prompt Morning Sex

Warning: NSFW

Read on ao3 or below

Alec enjoys mornings, as a rule. Since he was very young, he was drilled to wake up early, ready for whatever the day might decide to throw at him. It’s become a habit, and it’s kind of nice to be awake when most of the world is still silent and sleeping.

For the past five years, mornings have also meant waking up next to Magnus, which is reward enough for anyone. Now, waking up early means that Alec gets to roll over and see Magnus’s face first thing. Every time, it shocks him with how happy he is.

On this particular morning, however, there’s a hefty stack of reports from various Institutes that need the Consul’s attention. So Alec does what he usually does when he wakes up before Magnus: makes a cup of coffee and slides back into bed beside him, balancing the paperwork on his knees.

He takes a brief moment to glance over at Magnus, sprawled out on his side with his limbs going in every direction, uncoordinated and messy as he only is when he’s asleep. In contrast to Alec, Magnus tends to sleep late, sprawling out luxuriously until eight or nine when he’s not working. Alec doesn’t mind at all. If he could, he would simply sit and stare at Magnus until he wakes up. But sadly, there’s work to be done, and so Alec squints down at the first page, trying to concentrate of a description of how the Zagreb Institute took out a hidden nest of Ravener demons.

Magnus sighs in his sleep, rolling onto his stomach, and Alec runs an absent hand through his hair, soothing and caressing until Magnus’s sighs and mutters die down into even breathing again. Alec flicks through the next report, skimming more than actual reading. He signs the final page and sets it aside before reaching for another.

Magnus sighs again, this time a little louder, and Alec glances over at him to check he hasn’t woken up. But no, he’s still soundly asleep. Golden sunlight falls across the curve of his cheek, the long arch of his spine, beautiful little sunspots that Alec wants to press his lips to, kiss the warmth lingering on Magnus’s skin. But these reports aren’t going to sign themselves, and so Alec goes back to reading.

Magnus shifts again, hands now fisting in the pillow under his cheek. He makes another sleepy noise. This one’s not really a sigh, it’s more of a—

Alec stops. He pauses. Then, very deliberately, he puts the report down on the bedside table and looks over at Magnus. He’s still fast asleep, eyes closed and features slack. But now Alec stares at him, feeling every nerve in his body spring to shocked life as Magnus shifts on the mattress and opens his mouth in what is unmistakably a moan.

By the Angel. Alec’s only heard a sound like that from Magnus when he’s been very decidedly awake, and Alec’s usually been the one causing it. He’s never heard Magnus make a single sound like that in his sleep.

But it’s unmistakable. And as Magnus shifts again, Alec’s mouth goes drier than a desert as he realises Magnus’s restlessness isn’t just random movements. He’s— he’s moving his hips. Alec sits there, dumbstruck, as his unconscious husband grinds against the mattress next to him, breath leaving his mouth in little pants, sounding debauched and desperate.

Magnus’s lips part, and he moans, “Alec.” And then again, louder in case Alec somehow didn’t get the message: “Alec!”

Alec’s pulse surges, blood pounding in his ears. Magnus is dreaming about him. What’s happening in his subconscious? Alec is dying to dive inside his mind right now, see exactly what gorgeous, depraved visions Magnus’s semiconscious mind has conjured up. In his dreams, does Alec grab his wrists and pull him closer? Does he push a leg between Magnus’s thighs for him to rut against? Does he pin Magnus against a wall, plastering their bodies together as he grabs Magnus’s thigh in his hand, pushing it up to open him to Alec’s fingers?

Magnus is panting hotly now. His mouth has left a damp patch on the pillow as little puffs of air escape him, accompanied by the occasional “Mmmm.” or “Alec.”

And Alec wants— he wants to wake him up straight away, flip him over and give him the good fuck he so clearly craves. He wants Magnus awake and writhing with pleasure under him. But he has no idea how these kinds of situations work. He has no idea what’s allowed, how far his rights as a husband and a lover extend. Should he wake Magnus up or let him sleep? Should he leave the room? Is Magnus going to want him there when he wakes up? Alec tries to form a coherent thought, mind distracted and addled by the sight of Magnus pushing his knees up towards his chest as he ruts against the pillow under him. The sheet covering him slips further down, exposing more of his back, brown and sun-kissed and glimmering with the faintest sheen of sweat. A little more and it would slip off entirely, exposing the simply glorious curve of his ass. Alec shudders a little with suppressed want. He forces it down, mind racing with indecision as he tries to figure out the best course of action.

As it turns out, he doesn’t need to decide, because the next moment Magnus moans so loud he apparently wakes himself up. He jerks awake, head snapping up and eyes blinking in sleepy confusion. He blinks at Alec, still half-asleep and struggling to focus.

“Magnus.” Alec says, more surprised than anything else.

Magnus blinks at him. “Alec.” he says, his voice thick and heavy from sleep. “What…how…”

Alec just stares at him, and Magnus seems to notice the condition he’s in— rumpled, sweaty, half-asleep and very obviously aroused.

He flushes, cheeks going a dark red that Alec desperately wants to kiss. “Oh.” he says. “Was that…was I…”

“Yes.” Alec says honestly. “You were. Definitely. And you were sort of, um—” He feels his own face flush in turn. “You were sort of…..moving. Against the mattress.

Magnus, if possible, turns even redder. “I’m so sorry. That— that hasn’t happened to me in a long time.” He laughs, sounding self-conscious, and Alec doesn’t get it. Is Magnus— embarrassed? Surely not. Surely Magnus can see that he had absolutely nothing to apologise for, that he makes Alec’s life infinitely better every day simply by existing.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Alec says. He shifts a tiny bit closer to Magnus. “It was….”

Hot, his brain supplies, but he doesn’t know if that’s too much, too soon. Magnus has barely just woken up, after all.

“Interesting.” he finishes, setting for the word that feels safest.

Magnus tilts his head, looking genuinely curious. “Interesting how?”

Alec swallows, aware that the room suddenly feels hotter. What the hell. He’s just going to go for it.

“I was wondering what you were dreaming about.” he confesses.

Magnus’s eyes widen a fraction. His head tilts back towards Alec, and the look in his eyes is just enough to make Alec that little bit bolder.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asks.

Magnus’s eyes flick down to the bedcovers for a moment before he looks up at Alec again.

“Oh,” he says, and there’s a hint of challenge in his eyes. “You want to know, do you?”

“What were you dreaming about?” Alec repeats stubbornly.

Magnus looks at him thoughtfully, a teasing smile spreading across his face. Then he sits up, shuffling around until he’s cuddled up next to Alec, head resting on his shoulder. His eyes sparkle wickedly, and Alec swallows.

“In my dream,” Magnus breathes, running a hand up and down Alec’s arm, “we were in bed together. Like this.” He gives Alec a brief, teasing look. There’s sin deep in those eyes of his, sweeter than honey.

“I was on my side.” Magnus continues. “You were behind me.” He taps his fingers against Alec’s shoulder. “One of your arms was wrapped around my waist. Your other hand was holding my thigh, pushing it up to open me.”

“Magnus.” Alec breathes. He’s not sure if he can take much more of this.

“Have I told you I love your hands?” Magnus teases. He takes one of them and puts it on his chest, over his heart. “So lovely and big and warm…Oh, and I love everything you can do with them, my darling.” He brings Alec’s hand to his mouth and kisses it, then very gently bites Alec’s fingertips.

“It was a very nice dream,” Magnus murmurs, releasing Alec’s hand. He slides languorously down to the bed again, stretching out like a cat. “But a dream just can’t compare to the real thing.”

And Alec feels the last of his resolve break as he reaches out for him. He pushes Magnus over, onto his stomach again, and runs a hand down his back. He’s so gorgeous that Alec thinks his heart might actually stop beating, sending him into cardiac arrest over his husband’s beauty.

And it would be worth it. It would be the most perfect way to die, with Magnus looking at him like that, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy-lidded as he looks at Alec over his shoulder.

Alec mouths over his skin, kissing the golden splashes of sunlight like he’s been craving to do. Magnus’s flesh is warm under his mouth, and he tastes of salt and spices. Alec licks a broad stripe up his back, chasing the flavour. Magnus digs his fingers into the mattress and groans, hips moving in tiny aborted circles against the silk.

“Alec.” he says breathlessly. “Whatever you’re planning on doing, just— hurry up and do it, please.”

“Someone’s impatient.” Alec teases. He sucks on the side of Magnus’s neck, just below his ear, suctioning the skin until a bruise starts to form. Magnus’s back arches and he tries to grab the sheets, but the smooth gold silk offers no purchase. He scrabbles ineffectually, hands sliding as he lets out small frustrated whimpers.

Alec decides the teasing’s gone on long enough. He lifts himself off Magnus and reaches across the bed to grab the pillow Magnus had been grinding against mere minutes before. He taps Magnus’s hip. “Up.” Magnus complies instantly, raising his hips enough for Alec to slide the pillow underneath, bringing him into an arch with his pelvis raised.

Alec drapes himself over him, plastering his front to Magnus’s back. He’s been hard this whole time, and his cock is trapped between their bodies, pressed into the small of Magnus’s back where he can no doubt feel it.

For a moment Alec thinks Magnus is too far gone to do magic, but then he waves his hand with a weak groan and a bottle of lube appears in Alec’s hand. He sits back on his haunches for a moment and applies a generous amount to Magnus’s entrance before dipping a finger inside him.

He clenches down immediately, clearly desperate for anything in him at all. Alec smirks. He curls his finger up towards Magnus’s spine, knowing exactly where all of his nerves are, exactly where to touch and press to make him writhe.

He adds a second finger and Magnus rolls his hips on them, hands clenching and unclenching as he presses down deeper and deeper. Alec curls his fingers in a beckoning motion, and Magnus’s muffled half-scream is the sweetest music in the world to his ears.

Angel, he’s beautiful. Alec could spend the rest of his life in this moment, never leaving this perfect tableau of sunlight and silk and Magnus, Magnus, Magnus. He can’t wait any longer, overwhelmed by the visceral need to be joined to him. To melt together until he can no longer tell where his body ends and Magnus’s begins. To press their bodies together until their very essences bleed into each other.

Alec sprawls out over him again, this time guiding himself to the wet, delicious warmth of Magnus’s body. Magnus rocks back to meet him as Alec presses forward, every inch that he sinks into Magnus like coming home. It’s absolute perfection. He feels Magnus suck in air, taut and trembling as Alec pushes fully into him, until he’s as deep as he can possibly go, their bodies fused together from shoulders to toes. Magnus moans breathlessly and sprawls loose and pliant under him. “Alec…”

His hands flex restlessly, and Alec slides his hands over Magnus’s, threading his fingers through his husband’s and linking their hands together. Magnus’s fingers curl tightly around his as Alec rolls his hips slowly, pressing Magnus against the mattress before drawing up again, pulling almost all the way out of him before sinking back in again. His hips move in slow, deep circles, a motion that has Magnus arching back and chasing Alec’s hips with his own.

“‘M here.” Alec assures him. He keeps moving, slow and deliberate, pressing a kiss to the back of Magnus’s neck before dropping his head down to whisper in his ear.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Alec murmurs to him, “all laid out like this, with the sunlight on your skin.” He thrusts into him again, deep and languorous, and Magnus’s legs shake where they’re pressed against Alec’s. Alec can feel the drops of sweat gathering and rolling down his calves. Magnus is close, he can tell. No surprise, considering he’d clearly gotten worked up from rutting against the mattress just moments ago.

“Want to spend every morning like this with you.” Alec continues. He brings one hand to Magnus’s hip, squeezing it, angling his pelvis up just the tiniest fraction more, making Magnus shudder at the new angle. “When I saw you— moaning my name in your sleep— that was so hot.”

“Alexander.” Magnus gasps, eyelids fluttering and mouth falling open.

“Magnus.” Alec breathes to him in the same tone, and it’s on the next roll of his hips that Magnus cries out comes, walls clamping down hard on Alec's cock. His whole body spasms, hands clawing at the sheets so hard Alec is certain they’ll rip, until he goes utterly limp, panting with his face pressed against the mattress.

Alec fucks him through it, the vibrations of Magnus’s body drawing him closer and closer to the edge, until he can’t hold back any more and comes with one final deep thrust. It catches him off guard, every time, how every nerve in his body draws tighter than a bowstring, tense and trembling, then something snaps and he’s spilling inside Magnus, vision whiting out from the intensity of it. And then afterwards, that exhausted, heavy feeling that makes all his limbs relax as he melts against Magnus, craving the warmth of his skin.

After a few long, hazy moments, Alec comes back to himself just enough to kiss the back of Magnus’s neck. ��Was that good?” he murmurs into Magnus’s ear, voice thick and drowsy. “Did you enjoy it?”

Magnus still seems barely capable of speech. He nods, incoherently, and turns his head so Alec can lean in and kiss him. He gasps softly against Alec’s lips, and Alec can’t help feeling a twinge of smug satisfaction. Magnus is usually so eloquent, so poised, and yet Alec has the ability to turn him into a shivering, sweaty mess of limbs, so drunk on desire he can barely speak. Alec isn’t normally a proud person, but he’s proud of this. He looks at Magnus, lost in a hazy, post-coital flush, and thinks, I did that. I did that to him.

“Did I enjoy it?” Magnus gets out eventually. He blinks at Alec, brow furrowing into something resembling a glare. “Does your ego really need an answer to that?”

Alec can’t help it; he grins and wraps his arms around Magnus. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

Magnus slowly eases himself over onto his back, causing Alec to slip out of him. Magnus instantly reaches out to pull Alec down against him again, wrapping his arms around Alec’s shoulders. Alec rests his chin on Magnus’s chest, looking down into his honey-gold eyes.

Magnus taps a finger against Alec’s lips. “That,” he says, “was the best morning sex I’ve ever had. Ever.” He pulls Alec’s head down and kisses his nose. Alec scrunches up his face and Magnus laughs, the happiest noise in the world.

Alec pulls back and looks at him thoughtfully for a second. Then he leans down and kisses Magnus properly, coaxing his mouth open, warm and a little messy and perfect. Alec kisses along the curve if Magnus’s jaw and presses openmouthed kisses to his neck.

“My Alexander.” Magnus murmurs against his ear. “How you spoil me.”

“No more than you deserve.” Alec breathes. It’s true— Magnus deserves the world. Alec could spend the rest of his life worshipping him and it still wouldn’t be as much as Magnus deserves. It’s an honour and a privilege to wake up beside him every morning. To see him in all his unguarded glory, the way no one else gets to see him, open and vulnerable and entirely Alec’s.

Magnus pushes on his chest, and Alec takes the hint, sitting up cross-legged and leaning back. Magnus sits upright gracefully and flows into his lap, legs twining around Alec’s hips. He pulls Alec in and kisses him again, hands threading through Alec’s hair. “Thank you, darling.” he whispers, and Alec thinks that, as mornings go, this one started pretty well. Considering he’d intended to spend it signing Clave reports, ending up with golden sunlight and a lapful of Magnus is a much, much more agreeable state of affairs.

[aew-kun-age-regression]

-Miscellaneous Masterslist-

Moodboards

Caregiver!Jack (Mary Poppins returns)

Blues Clues Moodboard

Regressor!Flora (Winx Club)

Regressor!Aisha (Winx Club)

Caregiver!Rick O'Connell, Caregiver!Evelyn O'Connell (The Mummy)

Regressor!Bloom (Winx Club)

Caregiver!Amity (The Owl House)

Regressor!Luz Noceda (The Owl House)

Caregiver!Legend of Zelda

Caregiver!Mario (The Super Mario Brothers)

(🌈) Moodboard

Caregiver!Agent Whiskey (Kingsman the golden circle)

Red Themed Cat Moodboard

(🩵⭐🌕🪐🌙🌠) Moodboard

(🫧) Moodboard

Caregiver!Reno Raines & Bobby Sixkiller (Renegade)

(🐋🐬🪼🦈) Moodboard

Caregiver!Marcus Moreno (We can be heroes)

Regressor!Tecna (Winx Club)

Regressor!Musa (Winx Club)

Regressor!Stella (Winx Club)

Bear in the big blue house Moodboard

Bluey Moodboard

Caregiver!Josh (Blues Clues)

Caregiver!Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Space Moodboard

Beach Moodboard

Dinosaur Moodboard

Leonardo Moodboard (Rottmnt)

Orange Stimboard

Blues Clues Stimboard

Caregiver!Josh (Blues Clues)

The Wizard of Oz Moodboard

(Birthday) Blues Clues Moodboard

Regressor!Oswald Cobblepot (Gotham)

Regressor!Cheryl Blossom (Riverdale)

Pumpkin Glow Build A Bear StimBoard

Regressor!Sebastian Mcclane (Law and Order)

Regressor!Oswald Cobblepot StimBoard (Gotham)

Regressor!Sebastian Mcclane StimBoard (Law and Order)

Caregiver!James Conrad StimBoard (Kong, Skull Island)

Caregiver!Adam Mintock + Caregiver!Jet Slootmaekers + Little!Sebastian Mcclane (Law and Order)

Regressor!King Clawthorne (The Owl House)

Regressor!Jake Peralta (Brooklyn 99)

Siren Themed StimBoard

Star Trek Themed Moodboard

Regressor!Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn 99)

Caregiver!Aethelwold (The Last Kingdom)

Caregiver!Edward Nygma (Gotham)

Regressor!Rowan Laslow (Wednesday)

Regressor!Oswald Cobblepot (Gotham)

Blue StimBoard (Blues Clues)

Regressor!10th Doctor (Doctor Who)

Regressor!Kenneth Hutch (StarSky and Hutch -2004)

Regressor!Peewee Herman

Regressor!11th Doctor (Doctor Who)

Caregiver!Arnold Rimmer + Regressor!Dave Lister (Red Dwarf)

Caregiver!Kryten (Red Dwarf)

Regressor!Charlie Hudson (Hudson & Rex)

Caregiver!Commander Mills (65)

Regressor!Wolf Pup Geralt Of Rivia + Caregiver!Jaskier (The Witcher)

Regressor!10th Doctor StimBoard (Doctor Who)

Caregiver!Commander Mills (65) (Fem Themes)

Caregiver!Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn 99)

Edgar Allan Poe - The Raven Themed

Caregiver!Albert Wesker StimBoard (Resident Evil)

Regressor!Arnold Rimmer (Red Dwarf)

FNAF animatronics (FNAF Movie)

Caregiver!William Tell (The Card Counter)

Blue Themed Moodboard

Caregiver!Jareth (Labyrinth)

Rumple Buttercup Moodboard

Wolf Themed StimBoard

My Favourite Activities Themed Moodboard

Flip!Christian (Moulin Rouge)

Caregiver!Indiana Jones (Indiana Jones)

Story/Fanfics

Headcannons

Playlists

Art

DNI Banner

Bingo, Bluey (bluey)

Dr Flug (villainous)

Bill Hazledine (suburban shootout)

Lloyd (lego ninjago)

Glam (metal family), Papa/Copia (ghost band)

Norman (my friendly neighborhood)

A bear

Dr Habit (smile for me)

Cuddle bear family (calico critters)

Skyler White (Breaking Bad)

Paci Icon

Socks & Muffin (Bluey)

Hello Kitty (Hello Kitty)

Luigi (Super Mario Brothers)

Winx Club Main Six (Winx Club)

Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael & Mikey (TMNT Mutant Mayhem)

Simon Petrikov (Adventure Time)

11th Doctor (Doctor Who)

[riddikuluspuff]

hermione’s haven bingo post eleven

title: pour me a drink (or two or more)

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48104662

square filled: Pansy Parkinson

ship: hermione granger x pansy parkinson

rating: mature

major tags/warning(s): fluff & first love

summary: Hermione Granger hadn't expected to fall for the Slytherin Princess, Pansy Parkinson, that every guy seemed to favour after. However, the raven-haired Slytherin only had her eyes on one Gryffindor Golden girl. Pansy wanted Hermione and Hermione wanted Pansy. Feelings had started developing for Hermione throughout her fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry but she hadn't started exploring those feelings until straight after the Second Wizarding War when she had spoken at the Ministry trails to keep Pansy and other young Death Eaters children out of Azkaban. Then their eighth year at Hogwarts was when everything properly changed between Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger.

word count: 1,183 words

created for @hermiones-haven

[sapphireginger]

Title: Peter & the Sunflower: Chapter #3 | 1900 - Autumn, Neverland

Pairing: Steter [Stiles + Peter]

Rating: Mature

Warning/Tags:

None

Summary:

“Pan! Come here. I want you to meet some people.” Pan tilted his head and joined Peter, turning to follow the boy’s gaze. He gaped at the three beings below them, sitting like royalty on the smooth obsidian rocks. “Sirens?” he whispered, shocked.  “In a sense, yes. They prefer the term mermaids. However, they are just as deadly and much prettier.”

@steter-stackson-bingo​

Card Number: 107

Square: Sirens Are Mermans

1900 — Autumn, Neverland 

Pan fell in love with his new home. Neverland was beautiful and he relished in all the serenity. There were so many colors, such a glorious thing to see after hatching to find a barren ash colored wasteland instead of the meadow of helianthus it should’ve been. 

He came to Neverland with nothing but after a week had more than he could ever possibly use. Peter offered to teach him how to make clothes if he wanted to. Pan was delighted to learn and now had one set of clothes for each day of the week. He still went barefoot but would now wear a small tunic made from one of Peter’s favorite tunics, a little belt to tie it made from leather and a tiny pair of pants made from the same material as Peter’s tights. His favorites to wear were the red tunic, black belt and black pants since they matched his wings. He also learned to make a small quilt for his feather bed. It was fun to learn, and he grew closer with Peter during that time.  

A few months later, Peter led him to the Numquam Grotto, also known as the Never Grotto. It stole Pan’s breath, his amber eyes wide with awe and wonder. The moon was high and full in the sky as they whizzed through the cavernous space. With giggles like bells, Pan trailed his fingers and toes through the water, using some of his magic to flick water at Peter. 

The Never Boy laughed and shot ahead before doubling back and letting out a crow. Pan blushed as his stomach flipped a little at the sound. The Never Boy sounded so joyous. The Sióg was starting to realize that he had formed an attachment to Peter. He wasn’t sure what to make of it but at the boy’s beckoning and giant grin, he pushed the thought off for now. 

“Pan! Come here. I want you to meet some people.”

Pan tilted his head and joined Peter, turning to follow the boy’s gaze. He gaped at the three beings below them, sitting like royalty on the smooth obsidian rocks. “Sirens?” he whispered, shocked. 

“In a sense, yes. They prefer the term mermaids. However, they are just as deadly and much prettier.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose they are pretty. The way they look I’m sure aided them in drawing people in. Then, the deadly part comes into play?” Pan flushed nervously as Peter’s eyes found his own. “They’re your friends?”

“Yep!” Peter said, popping the p. “But, they’re harmless to me and you, okay?” 

Pan sent him a nervous smile. “Promise?”

Peter grinned and held out his pinky. “I promise.”

With a scrunched up nose, Pan wrapped his small pale hand around Peter’s pinkie and shook it. “Good.” They stared at each other for a bit, until a splash of water echoed around the cavern, drawing their attention. 

“A dolphin!” Pan exclaimed in a breathless whisper of excitement, his wings shivering and fluttering. “It’s gorgeous.” His eyes were glued to the way the creature swam, like the goddess had taught her to dance along with the ocean’s rhythm. Pan was unaware of the admiring gaze of the Never Boy who never got tired of seeing the wonder on his friend’s face. 

After the dolphin had disappeared again, Peter gently nudged the Sióg. “Wanna know their names?”

“Uh yes! Absolutely. Um. I mean assuming they don’t mind?”

“Not at all. So first the one there with blue shells and blue scales with hair like golden sun rays is named Nymeria but I call her Nym or Ria. Second is the raven haired woman there with emerald shells and emerald scales. Her name is Rhymise but I call her Rhys or Ry. Then, last but not least, the one there with lavender shells, lavender scales and hair like a dragon’s fire is Philomena but I call her Mena.”

“Woah,” Pan said softly. “I thought merfolk were super secret or at least isolated. How come they’re not?”

Peter glanced at Pan and then shrugged one shoulder, seemingly nonchalant but his cheeks pinked as he said, “There was a terrible hurricane one year, stretched from the water’s surface to the bottom of the ocean. They were the only ones to survive. I offered them a haven. Here they aren’t disturbed by anyone. Here they don’t have to be afraid.”

Pan’s heart began to race as he admired the blush on Peter’s cheeks, his wings shivering with pride. He had to push away the stray thought that had been plaguing his mind lately. He couldn’t push it away completely though and so, in his mind, only to himself he would agree that Peter would be the perfect maité for him, or for any Sióg really but such things were the things of dreams, not reality. 

“Oh, fair maidens of Poseidon, I have returned. Where’s my hello, Nym, Rhys, and Mena?”

The three mermaids whipped their heads in Peter’s direction and trilled happily as they leapt into the water and swam toward them. “Hello, Peter!” they sang out, their teeth sharp, and deadly and yet hauntingly beautiful. “We missed you!”

Pan’s stomach clenched at the sight of utter adoration in their eyes but when he looked at Peter, sure he’d find the same adoration in his, he was shocked to find the Never Boy completely oblivious. In a way, Pan was glad, because if Peter recognized the look in their eyes, surely he’d recognize the same look in Pan’s eyes. 

Unaware of his new friend’s internal struggles, Peter regaled the maids with tales of his adventures, and Pan found himself just as enraptured by them as the maids were. 

When it came time to leave, Pan was speechless as the maids each offered him a small shell. It was their approval of him, and he tried not to get emotional when he promised he’d return to play soon. 

Peter kept close to him that night, sensing his friend’s emotions and Pan was grateful for the closeness, but even more grateful that the Never Boy didn’t ask what was wrong. 

As Peter slipped into dreamland, Pan, curled up in his meadowlark feather bed, remained awake. It was nearly impossible to fall asleep, for the emotional toll he experienced with the maids made his heart hurt too much to so easily greet the sandman. 

When he had cradled those small shells and had met the gazes of the maids, Pan couldn’t help that he desperately missed his parents. So, confident that the Never Boy was finally asleep, Pan began to cry, the sound of snare drums echoing in the small house as he finally began to grieve. He wept for his parents, wept the hatchlings that never got to live, wept the helianthus blossoms that never bloomed, the flora, the fauna and the goddess herself, for all who were marked by the fire in the valley. Only then, after hours had passed and the sun began to rise, did Pan finally succumb to sleep. 

[the-siren-queens-lover]

This is going on my The Golden Raven bingo fr

Yall how funny would it be if Jeremy Knox smokes guilt cigarettes every now and then??

[toopunkrockforshul]

Finally finished the last book for full blackout for 2023 bingo!

All hard mode except the robots one because I wasn't sure going in what role the robot would play. I don't think I can in good conscious claim that he was a protagonist though.

5 star reads (in order of prompt number):

Sunshine by Robin McKinley

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb

Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh

The Pomegranate Gate by Ariel Kaplan

The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home by Jeffrey Cranor and Joseph Fink

Full details below the cut:

Title with a Title (Hard Mode: Not a title of royalty) A Master of Djinn by P. Djèlí Clark - 4 stars

Superheroes (Hard Mode: Not related to DC or Marvel) Ordinary Monsters by J.M. Miro - 4 stars

Bottom of the TBR (Hard Mode: None, its already hard enough) Mister Impossible by Maggie Stiefvater - 4.75

tars

Magical Realism or Literary Fantasy (Hard Mode: Not one of the books in the Magic Realism recs thread) Uncommon Charm by Emily Bergslien and Kat Weaver - 4 stars

Young Adult (Hard Mode: Published in the last 5 years) The Way Back by Gavriel Savit - 4.75 stars

Mundane Jobs (Hard Mode: Does not take place on Earth) Mindtouch by M.C.A Hogarth - 4.75 stars

Published in the 00s (Hard Mode: Not in the top 30 of r/Fantasy best of 2023 list) Sunshine by Robin McKinley - 5 stars

Angels and Demons (Hard Mode: Protagonist is an angel or a demon) When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb - 5 stars

5 SFF Short Stories (Hard Mode: Read an entire SFF anthology or collection) Love After the End:An Anthology of Two-Spirit and Indigiqueer Speculative Fiction by Joshua Whitehead - 4 stars

Horror (Hard Mode: Not Stephen King or H.P. Lovecraft): The Voice of the Blood by Jemiah Jefferson - 4.75 stars

Self-published or Indie Publisher (Hard Mode: self pub and has fewer than 100 ratings) The Dying of the Golden Day by Carrie Gessner - 3.75 stars

Set in the Middle East/Middle Eastern SFF (Hard Mode: Author is of Middle Eastern heritage) The Bruising of Qilwa by Naseem Jamnia - 4.5 stars

Published in 2023 (Hard Mode: Debut novel) Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh - 5 stars

Multiverse and Alternative Realities (Hard Mode: Characters do not walk through a literal door in order to get to another world) The Pomegranate Gate by Ariel Kaplan - 5 stars

POC Author (Hard Mode: Takes place in a futuristic, sci-fi world) Hexarchate Stories by Yoon Ha Lee - 4.25 stars

Bookclub or Readalong Book (Hard Mode: read as part of a bookclub and participate in the discussion) Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia - 2 stars

Novella (Hard Mode: Novella is not published by Tordotcom Publishing) The Seep by Chana Porter - 4.75 stars

Mythical Beasts (Hard Mode: No dragons or dragon-like creatures) Drink Slay Love by Sarah Beth Durst - 3.5 stars

Elemental Magic (Hard Mode: Not V.E. Schwab's Shades of Magic series or Jim Butcher's Codex Alera series) The Last Sun by K.D. Edwards - 4.75 stars

Myths and Retellings (Hard Mode: Not Greek or Roman mythology) The Raven Tower by Ann Leckie - 4.25 stars

Queernorm Setting (Hard Mode: Not a futuristic setting) The Door into Shadow by Diane Duane - 4.25 stars

Coastal or Island Setting (Hard Mode: The book also features sea-faring) The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi by S.A. Chakraborty - 4 stars

Druids (Hard Mode: Not The Iron Druid Chronicles by Kevin Hearne) The Dawnhounds by Sascha Stronach - 4.5 stars

Featuring Robots (Hard Mode: Robot is the protagonist) He, She and It by Marge Piercy - 3.5 stars

Sequel (Hard Mode: Book 3 or on in the series) The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home by Jeffrey Cranor and Joseph Fink - 5 stars

[shoutogepi]

Scream for Me

Kaminari Denki

word count : 5.7k

[ ✘ (nsfw 18+) ]  

themes : villain!denki, yandere!denki, implied stalking/obsession, DUBCON, coercion, quirk use… denki has a tongue piercing

bio : It’s been two years since your hero best friend fell off the face of the earth, and since then, he’s resurfaced as a prominent villain. You don’t want anything to do with him. So naturally, he comes to you.  

author’s note : this is for bnha bookclub’s bingo event, for which i can now cross off the “hero turned villain” slot ;) once again this fic contains DUBCON so please beware before you continue… also so sorry if denks is OOC in this— i am aware that in canon he does not have a mean bone in his body 

side note: this fic is dedicated to @fanfic-me-up​ , the beautiful bday queen! she deserves the best, so please wish her a happy birthday! also, a great big thanks to @hawks-senseis​ and @boom-bakugou​ for beta’ing <3

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄳eep bass rattles your bones as you step around the glowing dance floor, drunken bodies bumping into your sides carelessly. It’s some electronic song pumping through the speakers and causing your ears to buzz, your tongue sliding over your lip as you make your way back to your tabe. The group you’re with barely even notices your return, your adventure proving victorious as you harbor a sweating glass in each hand. The fruity concoction initially tastes sweet on your tongue, the burn of the alcohol bleeding in afterwards and making your face twist in a bitter scowl. So much for the bartender’s lame attempt at flirting— his promise of “you won’t be able to taste the vodka at all!” falling flat.

Your flavor of the night throws back a shot from the table, the sticky glass clinking loudly as he slams it down. He’s cute enough— your classic type: tall and slender, a sleeve decorating his tan arm with swirls of ink, dark hair hanging over his bright eyes, and pink lip adorned with a silver ring. In your opinion, he’s the hottest of his group, which had joined your pack of girls nearly as soon as you’d entered the threshold.

Yet for some reason, you find yourself restless as he grinds against you, his hands firm atop your hips. Maybe he isn’t as hot as you think… or maybe you’re not trying to score tonight. Ha, as if that could ever be the case. Maybe you’re not drunk enough, or maybe you need to top off with something better than alcohol. Rolling your neck, you place your head on his shoulder, his hands immediately gliding up your torso to pull you closer against him. You can feel his semi through his jeans, and the recognition of it makes you smirk, closing your mascara-framed eyes and allowing him to sway you to the beat.

And you try to enjoy it— you really do.

But still, there’s something off.

There’s this itchy feeling of dread crawling across your skin, spreading over your body and seizing your heart with an icy fist. The poor muscle starts to beat furiously against its sudden confines, your eyes opening and moving to survey your surroundings— feeling like prey about to meet its certain fate.

That’s when you see him.

He’s right by the exit of the club, illuminated by the harsh fluorescent glow of the neon signs on the wall. Physically speaking, you can’t see much of him— he’s all the way across the room in a crowded, dinghy club— barely enough light for you to see his face. And yet, those haunting, golden eyes pierce straight into you. You freeze, bottom lip allowing gravity to take it prisoner, your breath caught midway in your shriveling lungs. The guy you’re dancing with doesn’t seem to notice, only pressing his hips harder into your ass.

It feels like you’re ripping roots from the earth as your feet move on their own accord, first one trembling step— then two. Now that you’re level with him on the main dance floor, he’s swallowed up into the tangling sea of shadowy limbs. You try to push your way over to the exit, but by the time you stumble out of the crowd, he’s nowhere to be found.

Whatever kind of buzz you had previously felt is instantly cut short. Trepidation oozes into your veins, chilling your bones and sending shivers all the way to your toes. On one hand, you want to believe in yourself— you’re sure that you’d seen him— but on the other hand, dismissing the sighting of the man would be much easier to do. And you hadn’t seen him in front of you in two years… the thought makes your chest feel tight, torn and bleeding with discomfort.

You miss him so much.

But even if you could see him again, he’s not the same boy you adored anymore… no, that would be impossible. And he could never be here, in this club, either. It might not be the best part of town, but it’s still a bustling spot in the city night life. There’s no way someone with his level of fame could just show up to a popular club like this on a Friday night, undetected.

So you write it off— take the easy way out. You’re drunk, there’s a lot of people here, and you were probably just looking for a reason to get off that guy at the table. That’s all it can be; your mind playing tricks on you. Of course, you hadn’t seen him.

That would be ridiculous.

Impossible.

It’s no surprise you feel sick to your stomach at the very idea of seeing him. Whether it’s because your stomach is filled to the brim with butterflies, or because your body feels shocked— as if his electricity crawls across your skin and makes your hairs stand on end— you’re not sure. Making your way to the back of the club, you somehow find the hallway void of a bathroom line. Never had you been graced with such a blessing, and you quickly make your way toward the door, giddy to be able to have a moment to yourself.

Once you’re inside the room, you take a moment to examine yourself in the mirror. Your hands planted on the countertop, you lean in close, eyes searching your reflection for anything that could be off. You still just don’t feel right, and you’re not sure why. The walls are colored in a dark turquoise hue, the black marble counter opaque and matching the dark stalls behind you. Fingers fidgeting for something to do, you pluck the lipstick out of your comically small purse, lining your lips before blotting the color with a paper towel.

A low wolf whistle splices the still air of the lavatory, echoing lowly on the tiled walls.

Every cell in your body is frozen, your gaze trained on a pair of yellow, slitted eyes over your shoulder. He’s slipping out of one of the stalls, taking his time as he crosses the room only to turn the lock on the door. Your heart starts to beat again at the realization that he’s really here, and that he’s just sealed the two of you in together.

Escape is the only thing on your mind right now, your eyes darting between the door, the vents on the ceiling, and the window that looks just a bit too small for you to wiggle through. Fear begins to bubble into your bloodstream, burning you with its sheer cold, like dry ice on naked skin.

“Cat got your tongue?”

His voice is just like it was before he disappeared, but all signs of his playful, positive attitude are absent. Instead, he sounds almost bored… and there’s this tone to his inflection that feels like cough syrup— thick and sticky, leaving a rancid taste at the back of your tongue.

Poison.

He keeps his distance from you, content to just watch your gaze in the reflection before you. You can’t help but look at him; too terrified that if you look away, he’ll be gone and then there’s no denying you’re crazy. You’ll have to get checked into an asylum or something, because you’re certified insane— nevermind if you’re imagining him— you can’t help but think he looks good. Really good.

Dressed in black from head to toe, he looks like he’s one with the shadows of the night. Even his hair is black now, raven strands perfectly framing his handsome face. The yellow streak in his hair is in the shape of a lightning bolt, colors inverse of what they used to be, when he was a peppy blonde. But those days are long over now, and the snakebite piercings adorning his full lower lip draw you in, much to your dismay. He looks damn good in his distressed jeans, the leather jacket sitting just right on his shoulders. And just like the last time you’d seen him, a tight, black choker sits perfectly on his throat.

“What, hmm? Nothin’ to say, sunshine?” Oh, that name. The term he had so affectionately coined you when you were still just classmates. When you were his best friend.

It takes a moment for you to think, and another for you to actually force the words out of your mouth. “What are you doing here, Denki?” You sound totally breathless, and it’s partly because you are— you’re completely shocked that he’s here, with you, in some nightclub bathroom. The balls he has to be out in public right now…

“And I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he says, lips curled into a displeased frown, and those big, golden eyes trailing up and down your body, assessing you in the same manner you had him. But he doesn’t stare; he’s already looked at you for plenty long. He’s over just simply looking at you. “It’s so good to hear your voice, Y/N.”

You don’t know what to say to him. After two years of Kaminari Denki dropping off the face of the earth, and more recently appearing on Japan’s ‘Most Wanted’ list instead, he’s come to you out of the blue. How did he know where to find you tonight? Does he have someone watching you? Is he… Does he still have those feelings that he used to pretend didn’t exist?

“Why are you here?” You try again, whispering, like anyone will be able to hear you over the thumping bass outside. But Denki hears you, leisurely stalking over to you.

Whipping around, your trembling fingers grab onto the edge of the countertop. You’ve read the articles, heard the news. You know the things he’s done. The terrible, unspeakable things.

Denki stops a step away from you, tongue glazing over his lip as his eyes rake over your front. A flash of metal between his lips catches your eye, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights before it’s gone.

“To see you, of course.”

He’s close now, and you can see that he’s taller, broader— more muscular than before, even underneath his jacket. His physique distracts you from his words for a moment, softening the devastating blow of fear. Your widening eyes jump up to lock with his, his gaze casting a sinister gleam over your rapidly-heating cheeks.

Denki closes the distance between you, gripping onto the side of the counter and leaning down to hang his face in front of yours. He smells slightly like smoke, stale cologne wafting onto you as his hips gently meet yours, trapping you against the sink behind you. His belt buckle presses onto your stomach, digging into you as he takes a deep breath beside your neck. You’re paralyzed beneath him, sucking in a small gasp as his fingers trace over the bottom of your spine, tingles shooting through you.

“Did you miss me? Because I missed you,” he murmurs against your throat, the cool gold of his earring dragging on your jaw. “So fucking much.”

His fingers trail to the back of your hips, palms landing on your dress as he squeezes your waist and pulls you closer to him. Your chests bump together, your cleavage pressing onto his front. Your hands fly up to push his shoulders, hating how your feelings clash against each other, turmoil brewing in your stomach. “Let me go,” you plead, spine stiffening as his fingers knead at you.

Denki chuckles, nipping at your skin and trailing the tip of his tongue along the column on your throat. “That’s not how this works, sunshine.” He pulls back to drop his gaze to your lips before his honeyed eyes swallow yours again. Wicked intent swirls in those caramel irises, tendrils of terror snagging tight around your throat. And yet, some small, sick part of you feels safe, feels comfortable in front of him— as if he’s the same guy who would stay up all night long with you just to play the latest video game, or do something crazy like make cupcakes or drive to the beach at four in the morning. As if you don’t know what he’s done since the last time you’ve seen him.

At the recollection of those unspeakable deeds, you whimper, heavy tears pooling along your lower lashes. “I’ll scream,” you threaten, though it doesn’t come out sounding like much of a threat.

A wide smirk curls the corners of his lips, that tongue jewelry making another brief appearance as he opens his mouth and leans into you. “You think anyone’s gonna hear us?” A dark brow rises on his forehead, amusement washed over his sharp features. “You’ll scream when I tell you to.”

Heat surges through your stomach at his crude suggestion, your body betraying you as his hands slide underneath your dress, his bare palms cupping your ass and distributing a confident squeeze. His fingers inch in between your legs, reaching out to ghost over your pussy through your thin, sheer thong.

The tough girl act proving fruitless, you decide to switch tactics. “Please, Denki, I don’t want to—”

“Why are you so fuckin’ wet, then?” He growls, fingertips pressing against your slit harder. He brings one hand before you, forcing you to look at the strands of slick that stretch between his fingers. Your face heats up, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. How could your body be so turned on right now, and your feelings so conflicted? The tension inside of you only worsens when he dips the fingers into his mouth, making a show of his pierced tongue stroking against them.

Finally his lips crash against yours, desire bursting inside of you and leaking into every corner of your body. You can’t move, can’t think, with his lips on you, moulding and pushing onto yours like waves in the restless sea. There’s passion behind his caress, a motive squandered and swept underneath the rug for far too long. He’s wanted you since high school, and now, he can finally have you.

“Please,” you beg quietly as you pull away, digits curling into the collar of his jacket, your lip trembling and a tear shooting down your face, “Denki, you’re scaring me.”

“Aw, cutie— no need to be scared,” Denki replies, rubbing the soaked front of your underwear as he smothers your neck with the gentlest kisses. “I’m the same old, lovable goof as before. Your Denki, your sparky. Well, one thing has changed… I waited for so long trying to think of something, anything that could make you realize how good I would treat you. I wasted so much time just playing my part as your best friend, a shoulder for you to cry on while your worthless boyfriends would betray you. It took me a while before I figured it out though—” he pauses for dramatic effect, leaning in so your lips brush “—that you love being treated bad.”

You’re speechless as his mouth conquers yours again, his tongue surprisingly sweet as it slides into your mouth with practiced ease. Your body is frozen solid for one whole second before your dignity withers and dies right before your very eyes, your thighs clenching together on either side of his intruding hand. His lips pull into a smirk, rough hands gathering the backs of your thighs before he sets your ass on the edge of the counter. It should be embarrassing how easily he peels your legs apart to stand between them, the heat leaking from his hard, jean-clad cock onto the inside of your thigh.

Noticing your stubborn hesitance, he sighs lowly as he takes his lips from yours, issuing a shockingly pleasant kiss to your cheek. “Don’t worry, sunshine,” he says, hand landing on your jaw to steer your gaze directly into his. For the first time tonight, you feel like you see the faintest glimpse of him. The real him, the one you loved and laughed and cried with. He’s sincere. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise. Unless… you’re into that?”

Your hand sails through the air automatically, an ingrained, pre-programmed response to his naughty suggestion. Only it doesn’t quite reach its target, for Denki’s strong grip keeps your wrist from moving any further. With a click of the tongue and a curt, unamused glance, he shoves your wrist back, pinning it against the cold mirror behind you. His other arm wraps tight around your waist, your bodies flush against each other.

“Bad girl. You gonna make me hold you down the whole time? That’s no fun,” he admonishes in your ear, hand scooping your ass through your dress and pressing you up against him. His erection digs into your thigh, hot and hard against your shivering skin, even through his jeans. “C’mon baby, m’gonna make you feel so good.”

You had sobered up at the sight of him, but now a new kind of intoxication sweeps through you, knocking you off your metaphorical feet and throwing you into the deep end of a sticky, ambrosial pool of desire. There’s no way you can say that you’d never thought of Denki ravaging you— you’d thought plenty about it, actually— but you’d never pictured it going quite like this. Even so, you can’t deny that his new look looks especially good in him, and as he’d previously pointed out, your body was more than happy to entertain him.

So you give in.

You only tilt your head back the slightest bit, and Denki’s already descending down onto you, starving tongue greedily slithering down your front. A hand tugs down the front of your dress, his lips wandering over the tops of your tits in your bra. Teeth dragging the silky material down, he groans as your bare chest is exposed, nuzzling a cheek against you as he begins to suck and nip at your flesh. The cool metal of his piercing beside the wet heat of his tongue washing over your nipples makes you moan, your free hand slapping over your mouth in mortification. But Denki only moans back, the lustful noise making your cunt twitch, longing for his attention.

Eager to please, he lets go of your wrist, maneuvering you in his hands so he can easily slide your thong to the side. His thumb dips into your entrance, gathering your abundant slick before it floats north, circling your pulsing clit. He swears against your tits, tongue still tracing your areola diligently as a fingertip begins to prod at your drooling hole. You can’t help but whine aloud, your head knocking back and your spine bending to press yourself into his caress. It’s wrong to be into this, you know this, and yet his tongue, his touch, his kiss— it overpowers all logic, your brain turning a blind eye as your body eats up every ounce of attention he offers.

You’re rewarded for your behavior when a slender finger slides into you, then another. The two digits begin to pump into you, curling as they disappear into your pussy, brushing deep inside of you. Denki trails his mouth back to yours, tongues tangling in a furious mess. Your fingers card through his inky locks, nails scraping his scalp as you grapple onto him. Your legs fold around his waist, hips rolling as he fucks his fingers into you tirelessly.

“Fuck, you’re so hot like this,” he groans, marigold eyes fixed on his digits slipping in and out of your dripping cunt. He sucks in a quick breath when your fingers find his belt, unfastening it and ripping down his fly. “Impatient?” he teases as you undo his pants, the dark denim falling along with his boxers.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, standing tall and proud as it pops out of its confines. There’s a thatch of blonde hair at the base of him, the very tip glistening with a swollen bead of pre. Hesitation long gone, you bring a hand to your mouth, allowing the thick saliva from the back of your throat to pool in your palm before you guide it back to him. Denki moans as your wet hand wraps around his throbbing length, squeezing just tight enough to feel how hard he really is. Slowly, you jerk him off, both your mouths parted as you pant, eyes boring into each other. His fingers thrust in turn with your fist, the squelching sound bouncing off the tiled walls.

It feels like your body is on fire, every movement of his hand stoking the flames, and you can only watch, helpless, as the inferno grows larger and livelier. There’s a small pressure forming in your stomach, your slick pouring out around him. You can’t contain your moans any longer, your arm curling around his neck to draw him close before your teeth take the skin of his neck hostage. Your noises of pleasure are hushed as they fall onto his throat, your lipstick smearing on the pale expanse of it.

Denki’s hips begin to move in accord with your hand, movements free and effortless as they greet your slippery fist. His cock is hot and swollen on your palm, veins bulging and rubbing against you. It’s only a matter of time before he’s had enough teasing, taking his fingers from you and swatting away your hand. He pants as he lines up the head of his cock with your glistening cunt, breath uneven. And then he’s pushing into you, stretching your silky walls wonderfully, burying himself inside you to the hilt.

You cry out when his hips bump yours, struggling to keep your half-lidded eyes open. Cheeks feeling hotter than ever, you wrap your other arm around his neck, pussy fluttering around his big cock as you adjust to his size. Surprisingly, Denki starts off slow, gently rocking his hips into yours. He sighs as his lips find yours again, the cold jewelry from his piercings foreign but welcome against your heated skin. He distracts you with his tongue as it slides between your lips, reaching out to greet yours. His fingers knead at your tits, your nipple trapped between his thumb and forefinger. The tingling sensations fluster you as his thrusts start to become deeper, harder— each one gracing your sensitive walls with a rub of his thick veins. His tempo begins to hasten, cock pushing into your scorching, dripping heat just as quick as it retreats. The pair of you are moaning, gasping for breath, too lost in each others’ bodies to bother with worrying about being caught.

“Does that feel good? You like it when I stuff you with my cock, sunshine?” Denki purrs, tugging at your nipple between his fingers. His teeth ghost over your bottom lip, hips slapping loudly against yours as he continues his attack on your cunt. He groans loudly when your walls tremble around him, clenching down as he finds a new angle that allows him better access to your most intimate spots. “Fuck, your pussy fits me so perfectly, so wet and tight… Made just for me.”

Even though his sentiment should be concerning, you find yourself more turned on than ever, your submission leaking out and mixing with the lust surging through your body to create a cocktail of desire stronger than anything you’ve ever felt. Unadulterated moans float out of your parted lips, raw pleasure shooting into you as the head of his cock pounds into your g-spot. Your shaking legs spread on their own volition, welcoming him inside as deep as possible. Gasping his name, your hands slip underneath the hem of his shirt, exploring his warm skin and the taut muscles hidden below. “D-Denki! Oh, fuck!”

Denki growls beside your ear, the sound primal and heated. His pace continues, relentless, as he lets his hands fall from your tits, opting to clutch onto a thigh and hold you open for him instead. “You dunno how long— oh, fuck yes— nngh, you dunno how long I’ve been dreaming about this, Y/N. Y-You, moaning my name like the filthy little slut you are. My slut, my girl… My sunshine— shit!”

You whimper as he pulls out of you abruptly, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your thigh. His wet cock jerks against your pussy, which twitches in response, as if calling out for him and begging for his return. You pull at his hips, desperate for him to be inside of you again, wanting— no, needing for him to stretch you full.

He catches his breath pretty quick, letting out a low chuckle at your impatience. “Got a little too close there… this pussy is even better than I thought it’d be,” he explains, gathering you in his arms and placing you on your feet. He turns you around, pushing your back so you lay nearly flat, bent over the counter. Cock gliding against your slick folds, he evens his breathing as his thumbs pull your cunt apart, golden eyes settling on your twitching hole. Playful as always, he rubs the tip of his length over your entrance, not quite pushing hard enough to actually penetrate you. You watch him in the mirror before you, seemingly entranced in his own show.

“D-Denki,” you swallow your pride, restless to be stimulated again. At the sound of his name leaving your wanton lips, his eyes flicker up to meet yours in the reflection, filled with curiosity and mischief. “Please, put it back in… I… I need you, Denki.” You whisper the words, and it’s honestly a miracle that he hears your plea, for the club music still pounds through the thin door. The embarrassment is overwhelming, forcing you to close your eyes. You can’t bear to meet his gaze, shame coursing through you. Here you are, being ravaged by your ex-best friend, now turned villain, in a nightclub bathroom… begging for his cock, like a whore.

The feeling of his length pressing into your dripping heat shakes you from your shameful thoughts, eyes flying open to meet his caramel gaze again. “Don’t worry, sunshine,” Denki coos, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek, “I need you, too.”

You can’t fathom any response, his thick length filling you to the brim as his hips jostle yours, completely inside. The stretch is superb with this new angle, the veins on his cock so deliciously stimulating your snug, velvet walls. He draws back, only to snap forward quickly, your legs quivering at the bliss that emanates from the wonderful stretch he provides. His words have a sinfully pleasurable effect on you, a shiver spreading over your form, and your spine bending, ass pressing into him even more.

Denki hums as he begins to hasten the tempo, soft smacks filling the stuffy air inside the room. His cock glides into you easily, lubricated by your copious arousal as you pulse around him. Your ass jiggles as he begins to swing his hips harder, drilling into your slobbering cunt with renewed passion. Rough hands clutch onto either of your arms, holding his own arms straight as he uses the new grip on you to further his momentum.

Stars dance before your eyes, his cock hammering into your most sensitive area. The position he has you in provides just the right angle for him to assault your g-spot, your jaw unhinging as a string of high-pitched moans tumbles from your throat. Tears gather at the corners of your eyes, rolling down your face and spattering against the dirty mirror as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. You try to form the words to warn him you’re about to cum, but you can’t think, let alone speak.

But it seems he doesn’t need your warning, for Denki analyzes your lewd expression in the reflection, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Go on, do it. C’mon sunshine, you can do it. Cum for me, fuck, cum with my cock stretching out your sloppy little hole,” he orders, still slamming into you ruthlessly. “I wanna hear you when you cum, lemme hear that pretty voice of yours— scream for me.”

You hate that his filthy words have such power, but that doesn’t deter your cunt from wringing snug around him, the coil in your stomach compressing tighter and tighter until your vision turns white and your body goes rigid. Waves of euphoria crash over you, sucking you into the sea of pleasure. Your lungs burn as you scream out, pure ecstasy zipping through your every limb. Denki has to stop thrusting, his grip digging into your skin as he struggles to keep his own orgasm at bay. Your pussy constricting around him has him losing his breath, teeth descending onto his bottom lip as he tries not to cum.

Finally your cunt stops seizing, your body relaxing onto the countertop. Your mind is totally hazed, filled with an electrifying fog of post-orgasm bliss. But Denki’s quick to snap you out of it, picking up right where he left off and sending his cock surging into your tender heat. Once again you’re thrown into the vicious throes of pleasure, his cock the only thing you’re able to focus on as it drives into your slippery, gummy walls with ease.

His hands flying to latch onto your waist, he holds onto you tightly as his eyes find yours in the mirror, his orbs meeting your barely-open ones. That same spring is gaining pressure in his own stomach, the moans slipping out of him as good an indicator as any that he’s getting close. Fisting your hair, he pulls you upright, his slender fingers slipping from your tresses to lace around your throat. “Mmmm, m’close baby,” he pants, his hot breath fanning against your ear.

He begins to kiss at your jaw, littering it in affectionate nips and licks. Moving one of your legs so your knee rests on the counter, he pistons into you, hand wandering down to press against your stomach, the tips of his fingers just reaching your clit. Your body stiffens at the sudden stimulation, the bundle of nerves having been forgotten since his cock speared into you. Yet he rubs at it attentively now, fingers dipping down to where his cock draws in and out of you to gather excess slick before he continues.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” Denki grunts, his fingers tightening slightly around your neck. You can still breathe, but the feeling of his hand flush against your throat sends heat to your core, your pussy clutching onto his cock in desperation. “Gonna paint the inside of this sweet little cunt white… fill you up with my cum, nice and full.”

Icy fear trickles into your veins at the premise of him unloading into you, nothing to stop his seed from fertilizing you. “N-Not inside, Denki,” you beg hoarsely, your voice meek and mild, still recovering from your screams. But he doesn’t seem to hear you, or at least, he doesn’t acknowledge you— only continuing his ministrations on your clit and the vicious onslaught of his cock sheathing inside of you. “Please,” you whimper, your arms reaching behind your head to touch him, one hand landing in his silky hair and the other on his shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s right. Beg for my cum… Mmm, love it when you say my name like that, sunshine,” he moans, too wrapped up in his own pleasure to heed your words. Or perhaps he chooses to ignore them, his pace morphing into ragged, unmeasured thrusts, and his hips jerking as he loses himself in your tight, wet heat. “Take it, Y/N— every last fucking drop’s for you,” he whispers in your ear, eyes closed and lashes fluttering on your jaw. He groans as his orgasm tears into him, electricity from his quirk bursting through his body. The energy flows into you, shockwaves seizing over your body as the lightning rolls off of him. Somehow, even though he’s howling out in his own ecstasy, he manages to direct the electric current to the fingers that toy with your clit, sending another orgasm hurtling toward you like a bus with no brakes on the freeway. The static zips through you, quivering your bones and making your body melt like ice cream on a hot summer day. Your cunt milks his cock well, your climax making your walls contract and clamp around him. Searing ropes of his sticky seed land deep inside of you, his cock gushing and emptying his load into your tender heat.

Once the overwhelming pleasure has subsided, your body falls slack in his arms, slightly twitching in recoil from the surge of electricity. Denki coos at you as he catches his own breath, nuzzling into your neck and littering your skin with kisses. He whispers sweet nothings to you as you come back to reality, still subdued from the all-consuming ecstasy that had taken hold of you entirely just moments ago. Slowly he slips out of you, careful to slide your panties back in place to catch his load as it starts to leak out of your aching hole. Moving your leg off the countertop, he turns you around, smiling happily as he fixes your smudged makeup and frazzled hair. Your body is too weak to try to fight him, so you let him hold you against his lithe form as he fixes your dress, covering your ravaged body as best as he can. He takes a moment to rub off the lipstick stains from his skin, buckling his belt before those marigold eyes find yours once again.

“Finally, you’re mine,” he muses, yellow eyes glinting at you under the harsh, fluorescent lighting of the dirty bathroom. He tilts his head as he cups your chin, angling you to look into his intoxicating gaze. “Oh sunshine… what fun we’ll have together.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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yayyy my first denki fic :D also my first time writing villain/yandere stuff too... so please be sure to lemme know if you enjoyed!

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