#those clothes are SOFTER alright

[ickyguts]

oh shit it's a bunny 🐰

[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

The Dragon and the Dragon-less

Pairing: Aemond x Strong niece reader

Summary: The night Aemond had lost his eye, his sweet niece was the only one to provide him any sense of comfort. Many years later, when she returns to Kings Landing with her family, what should become of the two? ;)

Warnings: bad ship terminology (idk boats y'all sorry), Rhaenyra being kind of a bad mom (love her tho), Targcest/incest, softer Aemond, smut in the dragon pits, this one is kind of long haha

AN: Hey y'all! Since my first fic seemed to be received so well (thanks so much to everyone for that:) I decided to write another one! I'm staying on the Aemond train since I've never left it since day one haha. Let me know tho if there are any requests!

PS: I haven't gone through and totally edited this so don't mind the spelling or grammar issues if there are any!!

It had been awful, you remembered hearing the screaming and shouting from your chambers. The screeching having woken you up from a rather pleasant dream about eating cake–

In nothing but your night clothes, and a quilt draped around your shoulders, you padded down the chilly hallways of Dragonstone. 

“ – it was my sons who were attacked!” You hear your mother yell. Concerned you took a few more steps forward, finally able to make out the scene before you. Your mother and your brothers to one side, while Alicent and her boys on the other, the fire raging in the hearth between them. 

Your wide lilac eyes meet those of your stepfather, Prince Daemon, he reaches a hand out towards you as if to say “Come here”. Your feet did not move, rooted to the spot, eyes glancing around the room once more. You see something you hadn’t noticed before, Aemond, in the corner of the room, surrounded by maesters. A hand over his eye, thick, sticky fluid oozing from between his small fingers. Gasping, your own hands fly to cover your lips, perhaps to muffle the noise, or maybe to tame the scream building in your throat. Aemond’s healthy eye meets yours, pain, sadness but most of all fury over taking his features. 

Just then your mother turns to meet you, her gaze worried and frantic, “My sweet girl! You should return to your chambers this is no sight for you dearest,” her hand, also bloody you notice, rests above her heart.

“Mother, w-what has happened? Aemond, h-he, is he alright–” You begin to question, Daemon takes a step towards you and you take one forward into the room. Your concerned gaze flits over to Aemond once more. Despite the fire in the hearth, the chill of the room has set into your bones, causing you to pull the quilt tighter around your shoulders. 

“Come now byka zaldrīzes (little dragon) let us return you to your quarters. Aemond will be fine,” Your father attempts to comfort you. Maybe you are too tired to argue, or too shocked, your mind still attempting to comprehend what has happened. But you let your father guide you back to your chambers, the quilt trailing behind you like a cloak. 

With a lullaby and a pat on the head, Daemon bids you good night once more. Closing the door softly behind him, his heavy footsteps receding off into the distance, presumably back to your mother and brothers. It feels like hours as you stare at the ceiling, listening, straining your ears for even just a morsel of information. But the halls beyond your door remain as silent as the grave. The chill in your bones is stubborn, making you shiver. Sitting up and swinging your feet over the side of the bed, you wrap the quilt around your shoulders once again. As silently as possible, you open the door, the hall is empty save for the torches lining the walls. You’re bathed in the fiery orange glow as you step fully into the hall. 

You’re not quite sure where your feet carry you until you turn the corner and are met with Ser Criston Cole. His tall stature taking up the door frame of the young prince's room, his gold cloak behind him like an inverse shadow. It’s not until you come to stand in front of him that he addresses you. 

“Princess, you should not be here. You should return to your chambers,” He looks down his nose at you. Your knuckles turn white from the tight grip you have on the quilt.

“Please, Ser, I must see the Prince. What has happened to him? I must know if he is alright–” 

“Your brothers have maimed him. Who’s to say you aren’t here to do the same? Perhaps your whore of a –” The door behind him creaks a bit, one of the maesters appears in its place. Bloodied rags and a needle are held in his hands. He sighs “The prince says she may pass Ser Cole,”

With one last look of annoyance and a warning mumbled under his breath, the knight lets you pass. The room is dark, lit only by a few candles on the bedside table. Aemond’s hunched form lays on the bed, the blankets up to his chin. As you make your way closer you can see the true horror of what has happened this evening. Where his eye once was, now lays only marred flesh, red and angry, the stitches pull at the swollen skin. You gasp, shocked, a sick feeling settling into the pit of your stomach.

“Ugly isn’t it?” Aemond asks you, bitterness lacing his voice. As he speaks you make your way to his side, sitting lightly on the bed, next to his hip. Your small hand searching for his under the covers, to comfort him, or maybe to warm your own. 

“H-how did this happen? Who could possibly have–”

“Your brothers. Lucerys stole my eye. But an eye for a dragon is a fair price to pay is it not niece?” A proud, sad smile graces his features. While your brothers had dragons since they were but babes, you were not as lucky. Syrax had not laid a full nest, and your mother had decided it was best to give your brothers the two eggs. All the while you have remained dragonless. 

“Vhagar is now mine, and on the morrow, we shall leave this wretched place. And I will fly on dragon back to the Red Keep.” His singular lilac eye meets yours. “I promise you, sweet niece, one day I shall take you for a ride on dragon back. Show you the freedom that comes with it,” His previously bloodied fingers intertwined with yours. 

“I would like that very much uncle,” Looking down at your joined hands, a small smile of your own matching his. 

— — — — — — —

The waters of the sea lap against the side of the ship, the slap against the wood echoing around you. Overpowered only by the screeching of your family's dragons above you. Alone, you ride on this ship, well alone save for the ship hands and captain assigned by your father. Still, at the age of nine and ten, you remain dragonless, made to travel to the Red Keep by boat.

Your brothers claim to Driftmark had come into question, prompting the visit back to your old home. You hadn’t been back here since–

Your mother and father had determined it best to keep the family at Dragonstone after Aemond lost his eye. Although you had always suspected part of the reasoning for that was your mothers fear of retribution from Alicent for what your brother had done. Perhaps it was a long time coming though, your brothers as well as Aegon had picked on Aemond ruthlessly for years prior to that night. You had been spared only by the simple facts that you were a little girl, and just weren’t in there presence as much. Despite your pleas to join in the yard for training you had been denied, and turned towards the library instead to study “things more befit for your station” as your mother had put it.

“We shall dock shortly Princess,” the ship captain’s voice drifted to you from behind the wheel. You stood on the platform with him, looking beyond the masthead, you see Syrax and Caraxes land in the dragon pits. You sigh, it looks like you’ll arrive alone at the Red Keep, not expecting your mother to wait for you. Her and Daemon needed to prepare for the events of tomorrow. 

Arriving at the Keep felt haunting, the lack of a welcome only contributing to that fact. Once docked, you were met by a singular carriage and it’s driver. The captain had assured you that your belongings were to be delivered to your chambers shortly. For all your fathers faults he did have good trust and faith in those he employed. The ship’s captain had been with your families since you were a girl. He and yourself not unfamiliar with these lonesome journeys. 

The gates of the Red Keep came into view as you rolled over the bumpy roads of Kings Landing. Gold Cloaks lined the gate’s walls, closing the massive gate doors behind you, shutting you in, locking you within the castle grounds. The carriage comes to a jumpy halt, the driver offering you his hand as you disembark your ride. Your fingers slip into his as your boots squelch in the mud below you, the clanging of swords and metal meet your ears. 

“Nephews, have you come to train?” A voice says, one you could not recognize. From across the yard you see your brothers, you wave to them, hoping to catch their eye. Luke turns his head towards you, a small smile playing at his lips. Noticing this, the source of the voice follows his gaze, a singular lilac eye meeting yours.

“Niece, how you have grown–” Aemond’s lone eye takes in your figure. My how you’ve grown indeed. Last time he had seen you you barely came up to his chin, your silver locks a messs contained in small braids. The flush that never seemed to leave your cheeks remained however. You had grown taller, still standing shorter than himself, which he finds excites him a bit. More than it should perhaps. You had grown into yourself in a way that was very pleasing to his eye, your face fuller and lovely. Your curves soft and plush, inviting him to touch and caress them. 

“Uncle,” you offer him a small curtsey. You can hear Jace scoff, as if annoyed by the action. Wanting yo say more, but not knowing what, you continue to look at one another. Your own eyes take in your uncle, he had grown taller, much taller. His muscles lean and corded beneath his tunic. His silver hair almost as long as yours, is pulled back slightly in a braid. Some hanging free, escaping their confines during his sparring. His eye was now covered in an eyepatch, made of black leather, the tops and bottoms of the scar still visible even with it on. 

The arrival of another carriage turns your gaze to the left, where you yourself had arrived only moments ago. Vaemond Valaryon steps out of the carriage and into the yard, sparing a glance at the Prince and your brothers. A look of disgust crosses his face as he lays his eyes on Luke. 

— — — — — — —

The meeting to question Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark is long and dull, at least in the beginning. Mustering his limited remaining strength your grandsire had sat the thrown. Disputing Otto and Alicent in their claims. He looks horrible you think. His skin looks to be gray and sloughing off of his bones. The Stranger would be coming for him soon. It is not until Vaemond brings into question your brother’s parentage once again, that the apprehensive peace shatters. 

“And she is a–”

“Say it,” your father’s hand that rests on the hilt of Dark Sister tightens, knuckles whitening. 

“ – a WHORE!” In one swift blow, Daemon sends Vaemond’s head rolling across the floor of the throne room. Blood trailed behind the appendage like a snail’s trail. The room is filled with gasps and short screams. Your own eyes widened looking at the head on the stone floor before you. By no means are you unfamiliar with your father's violent nature, and nor should the rest of the court. 

“Let him keep his tongue,” Daemon wipes the blood off of his blade, stepping back, sheathing the sword once more. 

As if some kind of magic pulls you, you lift your eyes from Vaemonds severed head and meet those of your uncle. A smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he looks to be well entertained by the violent display. Caught in your staring, Aemond’s gaze rises to meet your own, his smirk widening into a more sadistic smile. 

“Now, for the final order of business. A more pleasant way to end this affair,” the king says, his mellow voice carrying across the stone-lined room. “I am blessed by the Gods to have such a large family, but it appears that the Gods hope to bless us some more,” It was becoming increasingly more clear that Alicent’s love for The Seven has bled not just into the castle but its people as well.  You think maybe it gives the king something comforting in his final days. 

“My son, Aemond, a fine warrior and scholar,” Aemond stands rigid and straight, uncomfortable with the new attention from his father. “And my granddaughter, if your mother had not already claimed the title of Realms Delight then it would be most certainly passed to you.” Your cheeks flush a bright pink, warmth rising to the tips of your ears. 

“This family has been divided for quite some time, I tend to rectify that. Aemond, my son, and my granddaughter the princess, shall be married,” The reactions around the room are mixed, some people applaud, some cover their shock with their hands. Wide, prying eyes jump between you and Aemond. You dare a look in his direction, he is still staring, the smile gone from his face now. Confusion, shock, anger? You cannot tell but it is not sweet, and it is not kind.

A wave of confidence washes over you as you step forward, “What is the meaning of this? Why have I not had any indication of this until now?!” You feel your mother’s hand grasp your elbow, urging you to stand beside her, silently. “It is the wish of your grandsire, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon). He is dying, do not fight him,” Your head whips aside, meeting her eyes, eyes filled with sadness. Did she know of this? Did she approve of this? Your father would not meet your eyes, nor your brothers, Jace toeing at an invisible stone on the floor. Did they all know, except for you? 

You tear your elbow from your mother’s grasp, she opens her mouth to speak once more, but your back is already turned. Your feet lead you towards the grand door. You had to leave, you needed to be anywhere else but here. Your chest tightens, your breathing ragged. Not with sadness or grief, no, but with anger and fury. You feel as though you could breathe fire as the dragons do. An angered scream tears past your lips, reverberating off of the stone walls of the Red Keep. 

— — — — — — —

You had decided it best to skip the family feast. And a good thing too, unbeknownst to you it had gone horribly. Lucerys mocking Aemond over the roasted pig, Aemond's “final tribute” to his Strong nephews. No, instead you had taken your dinner in the library, back amongst your beloved books. The sun had set an hour or two ago now, the torches along the halls lit. You didn’t know how late it was, you had been much too absorbed in your novel Lady Coryanne Wylde, A Cautionary Tale for Young Girls. 

The wax on the candles had burned low, and your wine had turned cold. It was time to retire. Taking the book with you, you began to make your way toward your chambers, your old chambers. The last time you had slept there you had been but a girl. As you turn the corner you are met with a hard wall of warm, corded muscle. Your book tumbling to the ground. A pair of strong hands plant themselves on your shoulders, to steady you. 

“Careful niece, someone might think you are up to no good, wandering the corridors, at night–alone” The smile from earlier returns to his lips, and just then, he notices the book on the floor. His smile becoming impossibly wider, you don’t think you’ve ever really seen Aemond smile, not like this anyway. It’s nice, you think to yourself.

“What’s this dear niece,” he bends down to pick up the novel, his slim fingers sifting through the pages, his eyebrows lifting. “Well, well, who would have thought–”

“Give that back!” You reach to snatch it from him, like a child, but he just holds it higher over his head. “Tell you what, I made a promise to you. Do you remember?” Of course, you remembered, you still thought about it sometimes, but all hope of fulfilling it had left you.

“Yes–” it came out more hoarse than you had intended. Your hand frozen, outstretched, Aemond still held the book over his head. 

“Come with me to meet Vhagar, for a ride,” he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Come taste the freedom of the skies with me niece.” He had tucked the book behind his back. Aemond wasn’t a man who typically waited for an answer, nor was he one who liked when people disagreed with him. He’d throw you over his shoulder if he must. Even though his hatred for your family ran deep, he could never seem to hate you. You had endeared yourself to him time and time again as children, but the night he lost his eye. The night you visited him, the only one not angry, the only one not repulsed by his face. He knew then that he could never hate you, no matter how hard he’d tried. 

Words had suddenly failed you, your tongue dry. You simply nodded instead. In response, Aemond straightened to his full, imposing height, and turning without a word, he began his stride down the hall, towards the dragon pits. You followed him, but neither of you spoke, the halls of the Red Keep filled with an odd sort of comfortable silence. His hair had grown longer, much longer, and he walked with a sense of confidence that hadn’t been there before. 

The night air was chill, a slight breeze blew through your hair, tousling the strands. You were glad you had worn a gown with longer sleeves, it must be chilly up in the clouds. Aemond was sporting his riding clothes, the leather over his tunic reaching his wrists. He looked good, really good, you thought to yourself. The flush from earlier returning to your cheeks, as well as the warmth in the tips of your ears. 

Aemond comes to a stop before the pits, waiting for you, the book still behind his back, taunting you. You suppose that was his insurance policy in case you had said no to joining him. You can only imagine your father's reaction to seeing you read such debauchery. You were his sweet little girl after all…

“Come now niece, no harm shall come to you while I am near,” He held his hand out to you, and you slipped your fingers between his. His hands are much smoother than the ship captains from earlier, you thought. His hand was warm, the blood of the dragon coursing through his veins. The sound of beating wings from up above drew you out of your daze. A dark shadow crossed over the pair of you, coming to land only several passes in front of you. Vhagar stood proud and strong, if not slightly tired. Her form was weathered by time and battle. It’s a blessing from the Gods that she can still take to the skies as she does. 

Aemond drew you nearer to her, your hand still held tightly in his, like all those years ago. “Give her a pat, she won’t bite, not unless I tell her to,” He chuckled a bit at his own joke, your eyes widening slightly, making him laugh all the more. “No need to be frightened, she’s quite gentle actually,” He guided your hand up to the beast's snout, his fingers had moved to circle your wrists, making the action easier. Your hand lay splayed out before you against Vhagar’s scales, her skin impossibly hot. The hand on your wrists moves to cover your own on the dragon. From behind you, Aemonds other hand rests on your waist lightly, like a whisper on the wind. Mayhaps this marriage won’t be too bad after all? Your anger from earlier was not directed at him you realize, but rather at the other members of your family. You were never pleased when things were kept from you when you were lied to. You like his hand there, you like it a lot, it provides you a sense of comfort and security as you stand before this large beast. You wonder how his calloused hands would feel elsewhere…

Aemond retracts his hand, yours following closely behind, you can still feel the heat of Vhagar’s scales on the skin of your palms. You begin to be tugged backward in the direction of Vhagar’s saddle. Aemond motions for you to begin climbing the ropes that lead to the mount, he follows behind you; prepared to catch you should the need arise. The saddle is less like a saddle and more like a small chariot on top of the dragon. It comfortably seats the two of you, and could even squeeze in a third. 

Aemond positions you in front of him, his legs caging yours, his arms reaching around the front of you to grasp onto the reigns. “Are you ready?” The question is whispered to you, his lips brushing your ear once more as he speaks. You rather like this position, the warmth radiating off of his body will surely keep you warm above the clouds. 

“Yes, yes I think I am,” Your own hands come up to rest atop his, surely just to steady yourself, and not at all because you were becoming increasingly more desperate to touch or be touched by the man behind you. 

“Sōvēs Vhagar!” Aemond pulls back and yells into the night air, sparring your delicate eardrums. The beast below you growls and jolts into action. She takes a few long strides before beginning to beat her wings, as she takes off into the crisp night air. 

Eyes glued shut you think you yell out a little yelp of initial fear and surprise. Aemond’s legs press tighter down on your own as if to reassure you that you are safe with him and his dragon. As Vhagar evens out her flying, coasting just above the clouds, you dare to open your eyes. Behind you, Aemond cannot stop the smile from spreading across his lips, he cannot see your face but he hopes it is a happy one. He’ll take you out flying every day that you are married if it will make you happy. He would burn the world down if it meant he could keep you safe and happy. To make you his. 

Truthfully he wasn’t all that surprised by his father’s announcement of your betrothal. As a boy, even before the incident, he had asked his mother and grandsire, Otto, what lords would court you, and if any would be good enough for a princess. It wasn’t until after he lost his eye that he first breached the subject of marriage to his mother. He’d told her he deserved it, that after all the pain he had gone through, it was only fair for him to spend his life beside someone whom he cared so deeply for. At the time his mother had just given him a kiss on the forehead saying “Perhaps one day, we shall see,” A sad smile had crossed her face then.

He’d given up on the hope of marrying for love after that. The ladies of court found him elusive and repulsive, opting to flirt with his brother, despite his marriage to Helaena. A few moons ago, Aegon had made a jest at Aemond’s expense, something about being tied to a Strong for all eternity. He had ignored it, deeming it nothing more than one of his brother's drunken comments. However, after the events of today, it seems he was not jesting after all.

Aemond is broken out of his thoughts by a lovely, bubbly sound. You’re laughing, your arms spread wide, fingers splayed out letting the wind rush through them. He immediately goes to grasp your waist, his legs still caged around yours, steading you, anchoring you to him and the saddle. 

“What the sweet Hells are you doing?! Put your hands back on the reigns!” He exclaims. You giggle some more, the wind drying your teeth as you smile. 

“I cannot uncle! You were right, this is marvelous! I feel as though I could rule the world from up here!” He had never seen anyone as dazzling as you were in this moment. Vhagar gave a slight jolt as she began to descend back downwards, causing you to jump forward a bit, hands grasping the reigns once more.

“I told you – “ He murmurs against your hair, placing a small kiss on your head. After another moment Aemond begins to guide Vhagar back towards the dragon pits. There’s a strain in his trousers he can ignore no longer. Years of pent-up desire and want boiling over. Ever the gentleman, he assists you in descending the beast. This time he goes first, his hand in yours as he helps you with the final jump down. 

“That was incredible, uncle that was truly –” Aemond uses his grip on your hand to tug you forward, clutching you to his chest, his lips meeting yours. You gasp into his mouth, surprised by the boldness of his actions. Before you are given the opportunity to reciprocate, he pulls away, a slight frown on his face.

“My apologies, I should not have–” 

“Yes, you should have actually. Why did you stop, I was quite enjoying myself,” You pull on the collar of his tunic, tugging his chapped lips back down to yours. Aemond uses his taller stature to guide you back up against a pillar within the pits. The two of you made only out of sight by half of a pillar, and Vhagar’s sleeping form. 

“And what if I were to take you, right here? Right now? Like a scene from your debaucherous novel,” He exclaims, his lips moving, forming a trail from your jaw down to your collarbone. Surely leaving marks, and love bites as he goes. Oh if only his brother could see him now, he thinks that perhaps Aegon would congratulate him on finally “getting it wet”. 

His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. He was everywhere, all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. The smell of the oils used to wash his hair filled your nostrils, the smokiness from Vhagar had made a home in the threads of his clothes. You’re nearly positive that you must smell similar, you’ll need to get your gown cleaned certainly. 

Your hands began to fumble with the belt of his trousers, your fingers making clumsy work of the buckle. Aemond pulls away only for a moment to assist you, then he begins to work on the strings of your corset. His movements were desperate and quick, neither of you having the patience to wait much longer. All the while his lips never left your skin. You feel him smile against your skin as Vhagar makes a slight noise of annoyance at your escapades. Somehow between your messy kisses, your skirts had been rucked up to your hips, Aemond’s deft fingers making contact with your small clothes. 

“You’re rather wet dear niece. Do I rile you up so huh? I wonder how wet you’ll be with my cock inside your sweet cunt,” He says that last bit almost more so to himself rather than you. In response, a small whimper escapes your lips. Aemond looks up to meet your eyes. A certain twinkle reflects at you from his. 

“Another night I shall spend hours ravishing you, but I need to be inside you, now.” He gives his cock a few strokes, preparing himself. Your eyes widen at the sight, his shaft long and thick, his head red and leaking arousal. It was, invigorating, knowing that you could illicit such a response from him. With a delicate kiss to your lips and one final look of permission, Aemond sheathes himself inside you. Your warm walls squeeze him perfectly, welcoming him in. Gods he could stay right here like this forever. 

“ – move. Aemond Gods move please,” You begged him, your walls had adjusted to him. Feeling wonderful and full. He began slow, his thrusts taking on a rhythmic flow. Aemond tucks his face into the crook of your neck, smelling your hair, his grunts and groans in your ear. You drag your nails down his clothed back, perhaps next time you’ll be able to fully leave your marks on his skin. Thank the Gods Vhagar had decided to remain put, it would ruin your honor should anyone find you like this; even though your virtue was promised to him already.

“Fuck– I don’t know if I’ll be able to last much longer ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved). You are just too perfect–” He cuts himself off with a grunt.

“Finish then, let go Aemond, let got for me please, I–” You beg him, you need it just as much as he does.

“Not before you ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved).” Aemond moves down to circle your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. The pace of his thrusts picked up, your hands remained looped around his neck, anchoring yourself to him.

“Aemond, oh Aemond, Gods I’m gonna–” The words that left your mouth made hardly any sense. The words and phrases twist and turn into a bizarre hymn to your betrothed. 

“Cum, cum for me Jorrāelagon (love), give yourself over to me–” Aemond begged you. His lips biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck. On his command, a wave of pleasure washes over you, like the seas crashing into the shores of Driftmark. You remember drifting off to sleep as a girl to the lullaby of the sea. Aemond’s own release follows closely after your own. Still nestled inside of you, he rests his forehead against yours, sighing contentedly. 

“You know, when I was a boy, I had asked my mother to ask Rhaenyra for your hand. I had begged her actually,” He chuckles a bit at his anecdote.

“Did you?” You laugh along with him, less at the story and more so at the ridiculousness of your current situation. You feel him nod, his forehead brushing against yours as he does so. 

“Well,” you say in response, “ I had always wanted a dragon of my own. I had begged my mother actually”, you imitate Aemond’s words, giggling a bit as you do, “but now I need not ask any longer. For I have my very own dragon right here.” You place a kiss on his nose as you say this.

“Well my love, no longer shall you be dragonless, not as long as I am around anyways,” Aemond reassures you. He supposed he had two dragons now as well, with Vhagar he would burn the world down, but you gave him a reason to do so. With fire and blood he would protect you, love you, for that is the way of the dragon, that is the way of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your beloved betrothed. 

Tag List:

@ helaenaluvr  @ anukulee

[princessbrunette]

Reader visiting pogue!rafe and wearing the tiniest sundress to thank him for taking such a good care of her and for coming to midsummer. She would give him the sloppiest nastiest blowjob because she is so grateful

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

it was one of those really hot days. the type where your clothes stick to you, even the hot breeze serves as no relief and you just wish to be left alone.

it was rafe’s day off from the building site, which he’s grateful for — as he’s not sure he’d be able to manage under such harsh conditions. the pogue lounges on his beat up couch infront of his shitty tv with a beer, legs spread — the rickety oscillating fan by his side offering no solace from the thick muggy air. just as he starts to find the energy to be irritated with this, there’s a knock at his door. the last thing he needs.

“jesus—what, i can’t have one god-damn day…” he mutters away to himself like a grumpy old man as he storms to the door, swinging it open. lo and behold, there you are in the tiniest, flimsiest sundress holding a crate of beer, looking a little clammy but excited to see him nonetheless.

“hi rafe!” you chime, totally unaffected.

“the hell are you doin’ all the way out here, s’not a nice part of the island, alright—”

“i come bearing gifts. may i come inside?” you ask so sweet and politely, leaving rafe only able to blink at you for a moment before you’re shuffling past him anyway without an answer, humming to yourself. “i know these ones are your favourite. they’re probably a little luke warm by now ‘cos i had to carry them here but if i stick them in the fridge they’ll probably be good to go in another ten minutes or so.” you chat away happily, walking right through to the small fridge on the ground in his kitchen, absentmindedly bending all the way over to shove the crate inside, giving rafe a real show of the delicate panties beneath your dress.

“really you — you walked all the way here for some beers, alright— okay.” he shakes his head in exasperation, turning and flopping back down onto the couch, closing his eyes for a moment at the unbearable heat. suddenly, you were right there.

“not just that.” your voice is softer now, closer. he can feel your breath on his face and it’s cold somehow— like you’d been sucking on an ice pop before coming in. the feeling isn’t unwelcome. his eyes flutter open, and it’s like someone had turned a switch inside of you because suddenly you’re all hungry eyes, wet mouth, hands that fidget for him.

“…no?” he drawls lazily, barely making an effort to shove an eyebrow up in questioning.

“wanted to thank you specially. for looking after me so well after midsummers. you’re a really good guy, rafe.” you’re so sweet it’s sickly and rafe shakes his head, averting his gaze with a lick of the lips and an eye roll.

“look i was just doing what anyone would have done alright — no need to make it a whole thing—”

“please… can i just show you how grateful i am? i’ve been practicing.” you practically groan, hands clenching into the fabric of his shirt.

rafe is starting to realise he has a real problem with saying no and standing by that— because soon he’s got you between his legs, drool leaking down onto his couch from the sloppy way you mouth at his cock, making out with the tip and taking breaks to ease him into your throat until there are tears on your cheeks. you seem as happy as anyone could be, little pleased moans and mewls leaving you periodically.

“the hell did you mean you’ve been practicing?” rafe asks between winces, a sharp pain in his abdomen at the thought of you getting in your blowjob rehearsals with another guy. he didn’t like that, and more importantly he didn’t like that he felt that way.

you reply to him, but it’s all garbled and spitty because his dick’s jammed half way down your throat so he pulls you off by the jaw, furrowing his brows curiously urging you to repeat yourself. you swallow, blinking wide wet eyes up at him.

“dildo.” you hum, before pushing his hand off and getting back to work. rafe relaxes back into the couch with an amused scoff.

“shit. your parents have got no clue, huh? no clue that they’ve got such a dirty little girl.” he spreads his legs a little wider, resting a hand on the back of your head.

you pull your mouth off to pull his cock to stand upright to access his balls, sucking and massaging them. “m’your dirty little girl too.” you respond in a shyer tone, almost like you were asking for permission. rafe blinks at you in zoned out analysis, wondering just what your father wasn’t providing you in order to make everything that came out of your mouth so wrong and freudian. rafe was just some construction working pogue — that’s how he saw it anyway. what it was about him that made you latch onto him so tightly and rely on him of all people for emotional validation and nurture was beyond him. you must’ve been a total masochist.

as you continue sucking he realises he didn’t so much mind the comment. everyone was ‘little’ to him at such a height so he’d let you have it.

“uh-huh. that right?” he entertains it, repositioning your mouth over his tip forcefully and feeding it back down your throat. “gonna let me in that throat now? huh? lemme cum baby? thought you were grateful. show me how thankful you are that i was nice to you, c’mon.” he pants, feet planted to the floor now as he lifts his hips — impatient. each little wet gag fuels him, and he chuckles breathlessly at the way you squeeze your eyes and fists closed to endure his manhandling.

“yeah not — not being very nice now am i? nah… s’what you get for messing with us nasty pogues. savages, baby.” he’s actively teasing you, making fun of the kook rhetoric as he pushes himself toward release. he knows those aren’t your views, but it’s satisfying to poke fun at you all the same.

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

[cordeliawhohung]

Touch Me 'Till I Vomit (pet!au) [5]

pet!au part 5 | ghoap x fem!reader

bath time, Bonnie

cw: overall theme of non-con, dark content, mean!simon

btw if y'all are needing someone to help proofread your stuff, @jackactuallywrites has got some great services to check out (:

Johnny lets you sleep after he’s had his fun with you. 

It’s odd how easy it comes. Your throat feels battered and bruised, and your head pounds from overexertion and dehydration with such pain that you never thought you’d get any rest. You swore you’d only be able to rest once you were dead, and yet you’re out before you even realize it. Exhaustion clings to you with unwavering nails despite it all, and grants you proper rest sometime after Johnny forced you to drink a glass of water. Well, as proper of a rest as one can get in your situation. 

Terrors plague you even with your eyes closed. You see a twisted fate before you, damned to relive the horrors already forced upon you, as well as those you're certain are soon to come. Just like you tried in real life, you rage against the unfairness of it all. Against the greedy hands and wet tongue. Against the blade on your skin and the fingers around your throat. And just like in real life, you fail. Even in dreams, you cannot escape the strange beast that calls himself Simon, nor his loyal pet.

When you finally wake and you're brutally forced back into consciousness, you are immediately aware of the hand resting on your head. It's heavy and firm as thick fingers gently glide along your skull. It almost feels comforting. The most comforted you have been since you were brought to that wretched place. You quickly realize that it's only a wolf in sheep's clothing when your eyes flutter open and you're met with Johnny's innocent grin. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers.

One would assume he was being sweet for whispering such a compliment to you, but you know very well that he is not. The way his cock abused your throat — and nearly your cunt — was far from kind, yet the lilt of his voice and the softness of his fingers as they wander to your cheek attempt to trick you. 

You say nothing in response to him as you continue to lay there, motionless. It feels wrong to accept a compliment from a dog such as him, but he doesn’t seem to mind your silence. All Johnny is focused on is the lines of your face and the softness of your skin as he continues to caress you. He’s a different person than he was earlier. Softer, almost seeming to care. It nearly lulls you into a false sense of security until you hear water running somewhere in the house. 

Your ears perk up at the sound, and you’re suddenly aware of everything. Not just the dull ache that permeates every cell in your body, but the lack of clothing on your legs, your still sticky and exposed thighs, and the booming footsteps that approach from the hallway. A heavy alarum rattles your senses, and you’re hit with that urge to run and fight again. 

“It’s alright, Bonnie. It’s just Simon,” Johnny says, trying to soothe you. 

It’s just Simon. He says it like you shouldn’t be afraid. As if he’s not the man who drugged you at work and brought you home to be used like a chew toy. There’s no time for you to correct him or voice your distaste before that lumbering beast is standing at the end of the bed. You want to close your eyes and pretend he isn’t there, but his presence is all consuming, and it’s not any easier to ignore when Johnny turns his attention to him with a grin. 

“Did you play nice?” Simon asks. 

“I did, I did what you told me, I promise,” Johnny says earnestly. 

The bed shakes as he shifts positions. He’s no longer laying beside you, and instead has crawled to the foot of the bed on his hands and knees like a dog. You watch with blank eyes as Johnny’s hands rest on Simon’s chest, a pitiful display of submission. Simon stares down at him for a moment before a hand reaches for his throat before giving his collar a small tug. 

“Good boy,” Simon praises. 

All it takes is another tug to get Johnny’s lips onto Simon’s, and you continue to lay there while they embrace one another. It feels wrong watching them like that. Simon shouldn’t be capable of such tenderness, and still the muffled sound of their lips separating with a sharp smack rings clear. You fear that he expects the same sort of greeting from you when he pulls away from Johnny and turns his attention to you, but you very quickly realize by the darkness in his eyes that is not the case at all. 

“C’mon, pet. Bath time.” 

There’s a deep shame that’s been plaguing you since the moment you first woke up that morning, and it only festers when you realize there’s no easy way out of this — of any of this. Simon is very patient with you as you slowly move your beaten body out of bed, and Johnny looks at you as if he’s watching a bird attempt to fly for the first time. Your teeth creak in your mouth as you try and hide your exposed body as best as you can, but Simon doesn’t at all seem interested in you being a prude. 

“This way,” he orders. 

Your feet slide along the wood floor as you follow behind him like a wounded animal. Much to your surprise, Johnny stays behind back in the bedroom, almost as if he suddenly cares about your privacy despite the fact he ravaged you for hours on end not too long ago. It doesn’t matter. Cut one head off, and two more replace it, and Simon — this freak of a man — has the strength of two jaws in one being. 

It isn’t until you reach the bathroom that you realize just how antiquated the house is. A beautiful porcelain tub, complete with a brass faucet, sits towards the back of the room, and though there are modern modifications and updates made with the toilet and sink, it very much still has that old charm to it. Everything is well taken care of, and completely spotless, but it still doesn’t do much to ease your mind about what’s about to happen to you. 

“Shirt off. Hurry up,” Simon prompts. 

Your shirt is the last piece of clothing protecting whatever dignity you have left, and you hate how easy it is for you to slip it up over your torso. Every other part of you has already been seen and explored — this feels like nothing. You don’t even mourn it as you toss it onto the floor. 

A lump threatens to choke you as Simon’s hand rests against the midsection of your back, and you nearly cry out when he presses you towards the tub. Thin wisps of steam rise on the mirror-like surface of the water, and when he helps you in, it almost feels nice when it envelops you. Despite the muscle-melting warmth, you don’t feel any less tense. You’re out of your element, you’re fully aware of that, and you try to keep your teeth from chattering as you avoid his gaze. 

He doesn’t speak as he retrieves a handful of toiletries from the counter before kneeling next to you by the tub. There’s no ledge for him to place them on, but he seems happy keeping them on the floor as he grabs some body wash. You almost move your hands up, expecting him to hand it to you, but he doesn’t. 

You quickly realize that he means to wash you himself. 

Cold gel presses against you, and you close your eyes in a pitiful attempt to pretend you’re somewhere else. Simon’s hands are firm as he begins to wash the entire length of your body. Despite the soap, it feels like he’s only ruining you; like his touch burns every inch of skin he comes into contact with. You hear him huff when he scrapes off a bit of Johnny’s dried cum off of your stomach, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be a laugh or not. 

“Johnny give you water today?” he suddenly asks. 

The swollen flesh of your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth as you ponder his question. Johnny had nearly waterboarded you with his enthusiasm earlier, trying to give you enough water to drown an elephant. In a way, it was nice as it helped to soothe the drug induced migraine that had been plaguing you all day, and still… it reminded you that you are less than human now. 

You nod. 

“Can’t hear you,” he bites. His hand suddenly grows tense, firmly gripping your leg as he pauses his endeavor in washing you. 

“Yes!” you correct. “He did.” 

He hums in response as he continues to clean you, and though you hate to admit it, he doesn’t skimp. Legs, arms, torso, underarms — he’s scrubbing everywhere. With his bare hands, which is… less than ideal, but he’s not half-assing it. It’s enough to get you to let your guard down; not that your resolve was strong to begin with. Exhaustion festers heavily within you, and all you can do is sit there and wonder why the soap you’re being cleansed with smells so familiar. 

“Did he fuck you?” Simon then asks. 

Learning better from a moment ago, you verbally respond with, “No.” 

Simon’s hands pause for a short moment before fingers dig into your jaw. His grip is piercing and unforgiving, and it gives you no option but to look up at him as he contorts your neck backwards. The inside of your cheek digs into your teeth, and you feel your eyes begin to water with the sting. 

“Look at me. Don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you’re lyin,” he explains. “Did he fuck you?” 

Everything he said to Johnny that morning hits you like a tidal wave as he demands the truth you’ve already given to him. You vividly recall how he told Johnny not to have sex with you in fear that you might get pregnant. Worse, how he would have to get rid of you because of it. You remember how you begged Johnny not to fuck you as he nearly pressed his cock into you, how terrified you were to find out what getting rid of you meant. 

You can’t control the way your bottom lip begins to tremble, or how a single hot tear scorches your face. There’s a pitiful attempt to shake your head that’s halted by Simon’s iron-like grip, and another firm squeeze from him finally gets you to open your mouth. 

“He didn’t, he didn’t fuck me, I-I promise,” you babble. “H-He did other things, but not that, I swear!” 

Simon is impossible to read as he scans your face. Drinks in the way your body trembles and wets underneath his touch. He doesn’t say if he believes you or not, but he relinquishes his grip on your face before he stands.

“Good girl.” 

Simon dries you off with one of the largest towels you’ve ever seen once he’s finished cleaning you up. There’s no longer that layer of grime from sweat and cum that taints your body, but you know it’s going to take much more than plain water to wash away the shame that continues to haunt you. 

Once you’re fully dry, Simon faces you towards the mirror as he stands behind you. It’s the first time you’re able to see the marks Johnny’s left on you. Several angry, fat, and dark hickeys plague your chest and breasts, and there’s several light scratches on your hips. You’ve hardly been there a day and you’re already marked to hell, as if the man had been trying to stake a claim on you. 

You’re quick to learn that those silly marks are not the only claim you’ll have to bear. Quiet, metallic jingling sounds as Simon retrieves a collar out of his pocket. It’s simple, made of leather, and bears a single charm, just like Johnny’s. You try to stand as still as possible as he reaches around you and begins to fasten it around your throat — not hard enough to choke you, but firm enough to know that you shouldn’t take it off. 

You avoid his gaze in the mirror as he works, and you try to look anywhere else; the floor, the counter, your clothes—

Your clothes. 

A stark realization hits you as you notice the clothes on the counter. They’re folded with the utmost care, yet even through the creases you can make out that these are your clothes. The ones that had slowly been going missing in your closet throughout the last few weeks. And that scent on your skin? That body wash? It’s the same exact brand you’ve used for years. Wide eyes meet Simon once more in the mirror just as he finishes securing your latest accessory, and you swear you see him smirking.  Your abduction was not done on a whim. This monster had been planning to take you for a long, long time.

[aesthetixhoe]

warnings: cursing, thigh riding, soft!dom! ethan, inexperienced!sub! reader, fem!reader, possessive ethan, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, lots of praise, hints of subspace

CURRENTLY THINKING ABOUT

slightly experienced!ethan with an inexperienced!reader.

You were in his lap, hand tangled in his hair, lips interlocked, his hands on your hips, slowly migrating towards your ass. When they finally land and grips your ass you gasp slightly in his mouth.

His hips buck up, making you whimper.

“Are you ok with this? I really like where this is going but I want to make sure you're ok with it too.” He looks up at you breathless with need in his eyes.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you look into his eyes. You nod softly. “I'm ok... I just...”

“Sweetheart, if you're not alright we don't have to do anything, I promise. I want you to be sure before we do anything.” He grabs your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckle comfortingly.

“I've never done this...” You look down at his hands stroking yours.

“You've never been touched by someone else?” He asks, joining your eyes on both of your guys' hands.

“No, Ethan... I've never done anything. Not even by myself...” You speak even softer than before. He hooks his thumb and finger around your chin, lifting your head up so your eyes meet his.

“Baby, are you saying you've never came before?” His question is less condescending than you expected. Everyone else you've revealed the fact to has lost their minds over it. You nod your head softly. “And you want to?” He asks for reassurance, and you respond again with the same head movement.

His lips go back to yours with a new found fervor. It was like the idea of him being the first person to ever make you cum drove him wild.

“If I do something too far just tell me and I'll stop ok?” You nod again. “I need words sweetheart.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Yes.” You know you're turned on, you've felt it before, especially around Ethan, but you don't know how to act on it. “What do I do?” You question quietly.

“Just relax and do what feels right baby. Here, move your hips a little.” His hands fall and grips the meat of your hips, dragging them up and down his thigh slowly. You sigh and your head moves to lay on his shoulder. The friction of your clothing up against your clit makes your body heat up and your breath gets shallower. “Feel good?” He asks, checking in.

You whine an ‘mhm’ into his ear. With the confirmation he speeds his hands up, making you gasp. “Oh god, E...” You moan, muffling yourself into his neck.

He leans back, stopping the motion of your hips. “Nuh uh beautiful, wanna hear you.”

“‘M sorry, was scared I sounded bad...” You whisper. You've never done this before and the insecurity was coming out.

“Oh no baby, I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make alright?”

“Yes sir.” His hips buck up. Holy shit. While Ethan was more experienced than you, he had still never been called sir. He might explode.

“Fuck baby, like it when you call me that. Can't wait to feel you one day, gonna feel so good wrapped around me.” His grip on you gets tighter and the pace of your hips speed up. You can feel your stomach starting to get tighter and your head falls backwards, exposing your neck to Ethan. He jumps on the opportunity to mark the area. “Gonna mark you up, love. You'll have to show everyone you're mine. Show everyone who makes you feel good. Who is it huh?” He says in between kisses to your neck, and after asking the final question he sucks on the expanse of your neck.

“You!” You moan, “Fuck, you Ethan. You're making me feel good. So good. I- feels weird.” Your hips stutter, unsure of if this is the feeling everyone talks about.

Ethan pulls back, looking into your eyes “No baby, don't stop, it's ok. Keep going, you're gonna cum.” He speeds your hips up again. Your head falls forward onto his chest. There's nothing in your brain, you feel like you can't speak anymore, all you can feel is Ethan and the friction between your legs. It's all too much but not enough.

Your thighs squeeze together unintentionally, but it adds the cherry on top for what you need to cum. Ethan catches on and tenses his thigh muscle. “Gon... Gonna- E- f-fuck-”

“It's ok baby, let go, cum for me.”

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)

Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!

A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.

You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.

Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.

“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.

Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.

“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”

“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. ���You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.

Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.

“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”

“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.

“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.” Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.

“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.

“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.

“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.

“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”

Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.

“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.

“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.

“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”

“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.

“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.

“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”

He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.

“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”

“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.

“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins

[cottonlemonade]

Six And A Half Minutes [part 3]

word count: 1850 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: University!AU Suna x chubby!Reader

genre: smut - and lots of it, smidgen of angst, friends to lovers

warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing, mentions of insecurities, more loving degradation, horny love drunk Suna

[part 1] [part 2]

It took a couple of seconds for his words to register. Your head was still swimming from your climax and the taste of his cock fresh on your tongue.

“You don’t have to, you know.”, you said finally, nervously kneading your hands in your lap again.

“Don’t get all fucking cute and shy after what you just did. I can only take so much.”, Rin frowned with a smile, softer than you’d ever seen, “C’mon.”

He got off the couch, staggering for a moment before regaining his balance, and then stretched his hand out to you.

Of course you had been in his room countless times, had commented on the messiness of clothes strewn about and teased him how he even managed to get girls into his bed. Well.

You lay back on his sheets, very very aware that your best friend hovered half naked above you and you were caged between his arms and thighs.

“First things first.”, he said matter of factly and leaned down. You half expected him to go back to sucking on your nipples but instead he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss turned from sweet to sloppy and you felt his hand slide down your side to your pajama shorts. Rintarou made quick work of them, flinging them into some dark corner of his room and then began teasing your clit through your panties. He grinned when he felt how drenched you were and you moaned into his mouth.

Your shirt and bra swiftly followed your shorts and he scooted down, making sure to get some more licks and sucks in at your breasts and came to kneel before you on the bed.

“You gotta spread your legs a bit further, alright?”

His casual tone made you squirm a little and you were sure Rin could feel the new surge of juices soaking through your panties.

You did as you were told.

He almost drooled when he peeled the fabric to the side and saw your glistening puffy pussy lips just begging to be devoured. He couldn’t wait to fuck you but all in good time.

You let out a loud moan when his tongue swiped through your folds the first time. He wrapped his arms around your plush thighs to keep you in place as he continued, tracing circles around your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue. His recently spent cock hardened again in his pants and he ever so slightly moved his hips against his bed for some friction.

Fuck, he could taste you for hours. The room was quiet except him slurping, sucking and kissing your pussy like he had never tasted anything so delicious. He was completely drunk on you, reveling in your sounds and squirms. He wanted to kill that bastard that dared to cheat on you when he had the most heavenly pussy right there in front of him. But then again, maybe he should thank him actually. Rintarou sighed at your sweetness.

Letting go of one of your thighs he brought two fingers to your mouth. “Can you get those nice and wet for me, baby?” His eyes were filled with the same hunger as before, setting softer kisses on your clit for a short break while you complied and sucked his fingers into your mouth.

“That’s it. You’re doing great…”

You shivered for a moment when he used the newly slicked fingers to tease your hard nipples for a second. He chuckled against your pussy, closing his eyes in bliss again when he lay his tongue flat against your folds.

“Now, let’s see how long it takes for you to be begging to cum, hm?”

As it turned out, not long at all. He really hadn’t exaggerated when he said he was good with his fingers and tongue.

When his long fingers entered your still dripping pussy you were sure you would pass out. His lips latched to your swollen clit, he slowly began to fuck you with his fingers, picking up the pace every couple of tongue swipes.

Your juices ran down the back of his hand - a waste in his opinion. He held onto you tighter, nibbling your clit now as his fingers quickly darted in and out, before keeping them inside you, curling and scissoring.

You covered your mouth with your hand, arching your back.

“Nono, none of that. Let me hear you.”, he panted, replacing his tongue on your clit momentarily with his calloused thumb, “Go on, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Mmh! Fuck, Rin - oh my god, don’t stop - don’t ever stop! Please, I need to cum.”

He almost nutted in his sweats at your desperation.

He kept his tongue on your cunt through your orgasm, slowing his finger fucking again.

“You think, my pretty little slut can take my cock next?”, he said in a low voice, pulling his fingers out of you, examining the little strands of cum forming between them with interest.

He took off his sweats and knelt between your legs, his hard cock lined up with your sensitive pussy, still pulsing from your last orgasm. Wiping your cum on his cock made him twitch in anticipation.

“Look at me. You ready?”

Instead of a reply, since words did not seem to form currently, you just spread your legs a little further.

“Fuck, you’re incredible.”

For a few strokes he let his cock just glide through your folds, coating it well in your juices, then slowly pushed into you.

“Shit, nngh, relax a bit more, alright? Or I won't be able to fit... Fuck, you’re tight.”

Muttering sweet compliments he bullied his cock further and further into you. When he finally bottomed out, he guided your legs around his waist and leaned down to take your hard nipples into his mouth again. He couldn’t get enough of you. He let you get used to the feeling of him filling your cute little cunt while he happily licked and sucked more hickeys into your skin.

“You can fuck me now.”, you said quietly after a few minutes of slow deep kisses, just enjoying the feeling of his cock inside of you and Rin was close to proposing on the spot.

“As you wish.”

One arm used to propping himself up, the free hand grabbing onto your waist he began to move.

Waking up the next morning, Rin was confused to find the other side of his bed empty. He sat up and looked around the room now illuminated by the early morning. Dust danced in the gray sun beams.

“Y/n?”, he called, getting more confused by the second. Your discarded clothes were also gone. Just then he heard the door open and you stepped inside. Seemingly having just come out of the bathroom, you were dressed in your comfortable pajamas again. Rintarou clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Why are you dressed?”, and not even waiting for a reply he added, “Come back to bed.”

He lifted the blanket and in the dim morning light you caught a glimpse of his magnificent naked body as he patted the spot next to him, “C’mon, it’s getting cold.”

You stepped closer to the bed and were pulled into his arms, your back against his warm chest.

He hummed sleepily, then muttered, “Too many clothes.”

Soon his hand found its way under your shirt and began to caress your tummy and breasts.

“Lift your leg a little, baby.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”, he said simply, kissing your neck.

You let him lift your leg ever so slightly and a moment later felt him slide his half hard cock between your thighs. You gasped when he pulled your pajama shorts and panties to the side and rubbed his length along your folds again that were getting wetter by the second.

Setting opened mouthed kisses to your neck he moaned quietly into your ear.

His hand under your shirt again, he cupped your breasts, squeezing in tune with the thrusts of his hips.

When you had woken up that morning all your bravery from last night was gone. Everything that happened seemed like the worst mistake you ever made. What happened between you was nothing more than a fluke and he would discard you just like your ex had done. Or what if Rin thought you were only using him as a rebound. But wow, you got way ahead of yourself there. He probably also simply craved some release. This was just two best friends helping each other out, right? Even now you faced away from him as he used you - “Look at me.”, Rin's voice cut through your thoughts and his hips slowed, looking into your eyes when you turned your head. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. The kiss was drawn out and sensual, his tongue gently pushing open your mouth to slip inside.

“There you go…”, his hand wandered lower to your plush thighs, digging between them to toy with your clit, “You’re doing so well for me, hm? - Keep your eyes on me, y/n.”, foreheads resting against each other he sped up again.

It didn’t take long for you two to cum together, whiny and panting.

He kissed you once more.

“Now I’m all sticky again…”, you complained with a little pout.

He chuckled and nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“We can take a shower in a bit but let’s just stay here a little longer, alright?”

He held you close, nose buried in your hair, breathing deeply.

After a bit of silence he said your name.

“Hm?”

“Just in case it wasn’t really fucking obvious … I love you.”

_________________

Three months later:

Rintarou had a request while you were fooling around on his couch again.

“Do you remember that pink crop top with like the flowers on it?”

“Oh, you mean the one you told me not to wear again because it’s too small which then made me cry myself to sleep? Yeah, I remember.”

“Woah woah woah, I distinctly remember I said not to wear it in front of other people.”

“Oh you distinctly remember, do you?”

“Sure fucking do. Cause I kept waiting for you to wear it again in front of me.”

You raised a brow.

He kissed your neck and grabbed your breasts.

“Cause your tits look absolutely delectable in that thing.”

“Oh really?”

He hummed, sucking your nipples again, refreshing his latest set of hickeys.

“And then if you pair that with no bra and like… only some cute panties… shit, I’d make sure to worship every inch of you and then fuck you so thoroughly you’d forget your own name… hmm, pounding you to watch your tits bounce in that shirt… Damn, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

“Pervert.”, unfortunately your insult came out as a gasp when he brought his hand between your legs and dragged his fingers through your puffy pussy lips, drenched from his words.

He grinned, bringing the glistening fingers to his lips and giving them a mischievous lick. “As if you didn’t already know, my beautiful little slut.”

a/n: this concludes officially the most explicit thing I have ever written. Yeah.

[sanemislittledemon]

Ngl I've been seeing a lot of things for small hipped people. And I was wondering, could you make a Gyomei x gn reader who's self conscious about having big hips? (And mayhaps have thick thighs while your at it hehe)

You don't have to write this, but I think your writing is awsome! And I really hope you have a good day/night!

I would love to write this! I have big hips too so this is right up my alley! I hope you like it!

Gyomei X chubby!reader

You and Gyomei are staying in the sword smith village. when he finds you in the hot springs the secret you’ve been trying to keep comes out. 

Walking into the sword smith village was hell, everyone that we pasted in the long walk into the village was staring at us or just at me. Why would they have those expressions looking at the strongest hashira? Expressions of disapproval. The man that could squash them like a bug, no they were looking at me, they always were. The only ones that accepted me are the hashira even though I’m not one and for that I’ll always be grateful. 

they can see it the way my wide lower body fills out even my loose clothing. I clench my arms around Gyomeis massive one while we make our way to the village chiefs home.

“ would you like me to carry you? “ he asked

I look up at him confused before I realize I was pressing my entire body against him practically hanging onto his arm. I quickly pulled away from him, causing him to laugh “ it’s alright, come here “ he said before wrapping his arm around me and lifting me up “ Gyomei! “ I yelped clinging onto his uniform collar. The stone hashiras grip on me was tight but not enough to hurt.

Gyomei walked along the streets until we finally reached the chiefs house. He gently dropped me on the ground before leaning down to me “ I’ll take care of this we’ve had a long day, why don’t you go to the hot springs? “ gyomei said as he opened the door and was gone before o had the chance to reply.

“ miss, this way i shall escort you to the hot springs “ he guide said before hurriedly moving me to the very edge of the village. We came to a steep incline of stone steps, the smell of the hot springs were pleasant but strong enough that it could be smelled from all the way down here.

“ the hot springs are just up these stairs miss “

“ thank you “ I said with a bow before starting the slow walk up the stairs. they were so many, I’m out of breath I complain on the way up. It took some time put I finally reached the top “ beautiful “ I say out loud. The water of the hot springs were beautifully shrouded in a blanket of mist and the sun was shining through the trees making everything look golden. I looked towards the ground there was towels and bathing essentials already laid out for visitors.

Looking around to make sure no one else is around I let out a sigh as I start to undress myself down to nothing, I’m glad Gyomei stayed behind to greet the village chief. I know that Gyomei is blind but I still get embarrassed by my naked form. Obviously he knows about my hips and tights but one thing I refuse to let him know is that it has fueled my insecurities. I have always hated them but I can pretend because I don’t want to seem weak around him. 

I try to push those thoughts out of my mind as I slowly sink down in the warm water, sighing when the water hits my cooler skin. I sank down into the water and put my head back on a stone “ this is nice “

Sitting in the hot springs for a while I could already feel my skin getting softer and my muscles relaxing, I almost drifted off the sleep when I heard “ I’m glad you’re liking the hot springs “ my head shot up and my hand moved to cover myself “ Gyomei? “ damnit I didn’t think he would be here so soon! “ one moment, my love “ he replied as he started removing his clothes. I quickly looked away as a blush rose on my cheeks, I slowly started to make my way to the other side of the hot springs before I was stopped.

“ where are you going? “ Gyomei asked as he was sinking into the water, damn him and his hashira senses. 

“ j-just making room for you Gyomei! “ I was trying my best to act cheerful but my heart was pounding. He laughed “ it’s okay if you’re beside me, you are my partner after all “ Gyomei then held out his hand for me to take, I reluctantly gave in taking his hand and letting him guide me to sit beside him.

“ that’s better “

I was on the verge of tears being this close to him without anything to cover myself with, I started fidgeting desperately wanting to leave “ what’s wrong? “ he man asked

“ nothing “ I deflected

“ if something is nothing you please tell me “

When those words left his mouth it felt like a dam burst, I started sobbing and it left the poor stone hashira very confused. “ I’m sorry, was it something I said? “ he asked as he wrapped his muscled arms around me pulling me to him.

“ i don’t…my body… “ I tried to explain between sobs, that made the man hold me tighter, he held me to his chest and let me cry it out. Gyomei put his hand under my knees and picked me up to put me on his lap. He ran his hands through my hair to calm me down like he knows how and it worked. I slowly started to come out of it, I pushed myself back from him so I could look up at his face.

The man wore a saddened expression “ I know you’re struggling my love “ he starts while running his hand down my sides “ I know what you’re thinking but you don’t have to worry “ he says as he’s leaning forward to kiss the top of my head “ i love you “ he whispers

“ Gyomei I- “

“ hush I don’t want to hear that anymore “

He pulls me tight against him “ I know your feelings about yourself “ he sighs while hot tears travel down his face making guilt pool in my stomach “ you are the most beautiful person in the world to me and I feel blessed to have you by my side “ he expresses 

“ I-I’m sorry Gyomei “

“ I’m also sorry that I didn’t make those thoughts clear enough “

I throw my arms around his neck as I pull him in for a kiss “ I love you “

He smiles into the kiss before kissing me deeply in return, our lips folded together so perfectly it’s like heaven but as soon as I was giving myself over to the feeling he pulled back “ we will work through these thoughts together “ he says

I smile and nod against him “ sorry for the trouble Gyomei “

“ you are no trouble for me, my love “

[stuffedteen]

Magical Waistband

Thomas had always been the poster boy for athleticism. With his chiseled jawline and bulging biceps, he was the kind of guy you'd see on the cover of fitness magazines. He loved working out, eating clean, and living a disciplined life. But little did he know, his life was about to take a turn for the curvier.

One sunny day in Southern California, Thomas decided to take a break from his usual workout routine and explore some job opportunities. He strolled along the beach and found himself at the entrance of Hollister. As he walked in, the smell of salty sea breeze and the sound of beachy tunes filled the air.

The store manager, Chad, was your typical surfer dude, all laid-back and cool. "Yo, dude! You look like you could totally rock our clothes," Chad said with a friendly grin.

Henry chuckled. "Thanks, man. I'm just checking out job options for the summer."

Chad's eyes lit up. "Well, that's perfect, bro. We're lookin' for some new staff, and you'd fit right in."

Henry nodded, completely unaware of what was about to happen. "Sure, sounds good to me."

Chad handed him a pair of crisp white Hollister briefs. "Here, man, try these on. They're like, our uniform, and they'll make you look even more awesome."

Henry took the briefs and headed to the changing room. Little did he know, those innocent-looking briefs were about to change his life forever.

As Henry slipped on the briefs, he felt an odd sensation. They tightened around his waist, but he attributed it to their slim-fit style. Unbeknownst to him, there was something magical about these briefs. They had the power to transform the wearer, but Henry was still clueless.

A few weeks passed, and Henry continued to work at Hollister. He enjoyed the laid-back atmosphere and was making new friends among his colleagues. However, something strange was happening. He had become hungrier than ever, and the once-disciplined athlete was now indulging in burgers, pizzas, and all sorts of junk food.

One day, as Henry glanced at himself in the mirror, he was shocked. His body had gone through an incredible transformation. His abs were now buried under a soft, round gut, and his muscles had softened into a curvier shape. His coworkers couldn't help but notice.

"Whoa, Henry, you've been packing on the pounds!" one of them said.

"Yeah, man, since you started working here you've blown up!" another chimed in.

Henry chuckled, still oblivious to the magical briefs' role in his weight gain. He continued to indulge in his newfound love for food, and his physique kept expanding. But he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was starting to enjoy his new, softer shape.

One evening, as he lay on his couch, his hand absentmindedly reaching for a bag of chips, his phone buzzed with a call from Chad. He picked up, curious to see what his manager wanted to talk about.

"Hey, Chad! What's up, man?" Henry greeted with a warm tone.

"Hey, Henry! I've got something pretty wild to confess," Chad replied.

Henry sat up, intrigued. "Alright, spill the beans, dude. What's going on?"

Chad cleared his throat. "So, remember those crisp white Hollister briefs I gave you when you started working here?"

"Yeah," Henry replied, scratching his head. "They're pretty comfy, I have to say. I've started wearing them basically everyday."

Chad continued, "It's all part of a change in company policy, man. Hollister decided we needed to be more inclusive, so we started hiring larger models. And the briefs, they, uh, magically enhance your physique to fit the new standards. You rock that new look. And I've gotta say, you've become a real inspiration for the brand."

He finally realized what was going on.

"Wait a minute," Henry mumbled to himself. "It's those darn briefs! They're making me chubby!"

The realization was liberating. He knew he should be concerned, but there was something strangely appealing about his new body. He looked at himself in the mirror with a newfound confidence and found himself incredibly attracted to the roundness of his gut and the softness of his body.

"I've got a size up in the briefs waiting for you when you come in for your shift tomorrow" said Chad. "See you then!"

Determined to embrace his new reality, Henry went all in. He let go of his strict workout routines and fully surrendered to his love for food. Burgers, fries, and ice cream became his best friends, and he watched his body expand with glee.

Over time, he fully embraced the life of a slob. His jock days were long gone, and he had become the embodiment of indulgence. It wasn't what he had planned, but he couldn't deny that he was loving every moment of it.

[samofmine]

"de, can i do yours next time?" sam says, big smile on his face, wiggling his feet excitedly as he watches dean painting his nails with a light shade of pink.

"no way, sammy" dean says, "stop moving or i'm gonna screw it up."

he gives sam a stern look, holding his leg still.

sam sighs, "you'd look good with it, though. i could paint yours green! to match your eyes."

dean shakes his head.

no way in hell he'd ever do that. what would dad think?

sam came up with this idea and dean agreed to do it, because there's very little dean won't agree to when sam asks, but only while dad was away and as long as he'd take it off before he came back.

the next day, dean took him to the mall and bought a set of nail polish of different colors. sam was happier than he'd been in a long time and dean felt proud of himself. he was an awesome big brother.

one day, though, john caught them. sam was wearing a red nail polish. he didn't say anything, just gave dean one of those looks that got him sweaty and nervous.

after that, sam doesn't feel the need to hide it from dad anymore.

"see? i told you he wouldn't even notice!"

but yeah, he noticed. dean is glad sam didn't realize it.

but there's no way dad would be cool if dean were to do it.

he finishes the last nail and applies some oil.

"you know the trick. careful with your hands."

sam holds his palms in the air, admiring dean's work.

"i think this one's my favorite." he smiles, showing it to dean.

sam has nice hands.

dean misses when they would hold hands all the time, sam demanding to be by his side wherever they went.

the pale pink color contrasts with his pale skin. he looks softer, prettier even. something in dean's mind makes him want to lock sam up and stop people from seeing him. he knows how to deal with this feeling now, ignoring it until it fades almost completely. almost.

"yeah, pink is definitely your color, baby brother." he messes with sam's hair as he teases, but sam doesn't get dean's tone and just smiles as if he just heard the best compliment ever.

"thanks, de." sam leans in and kisses his cheek, like he always does after dean finishes painting his nails, and dean can't help but melt every time.

"any time." he says softly. he means it.

sam needs to get ready for school and he complains that he should have dressed and brushed his hair first because now he can't use his hands. and dean just pretends he didn't think about that.

"stop whining." he says, dressing sam up in fresh clothes.

sam watches while he brushes his hair. it's getting too long again, but dean won't let him know. he likes it like this.

dean pats his knee when he's done, "alright, i'll start the car, go get your stuff."

dean drives him to school and watches sam talking with his friends, showing off his painted nails, and his chest fills with pride from being the one who did it.

(something in him wants to mark sammy in other ways, have him showing off more things he can leave on his body. he ignores that as well.)

maybe he should get the damn green nail polish. sammy holding his hand carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tries to do a good job, his attention fully on dean the entire time... yeah, that's too tempting.

he drives to the store right away.

[sanjismywhore]

Nothing To Be Ashamed Of

Insecure! Carlos Oliveira x Reader

Warnings: Nsfw/suggestive, gn reader, short fic

Carlos is insecure about his dad bod, but you provide reassurance.

————————————————————————

Laundry basket in hand, you quietly tip-toed around the house picking up dirty clothes along the way. As you entered your bedroom, you were about to bend down to pick up a couple of shirts. You paused your motions once you noticed Carlos standing in front of the full-length mirror, in the corner of the room.

He stood shirtless, turning to the side occasionally as if searching for markings on his skin. His hands roamed over himself absently, as he always did when he was in the process of shaving off a few pounds.

He glanced out at you through a reflection that distorted his face. “Hey,” he greeted in a low voice while continuing to inspect himself intently.

“What are you doing?” you asked after a few moments of him just staring and examining himself in silence. However, he gave you no response. He just continued to stand there.

His shoulders drooped a bit as he let out a soft sigh, almost like he was sulking. You couldn’t see his face in the reflection because of the way he was positioned, but you could tell something was off.

You stepped forward to set the laundry basket on the floor beside him. He didn't appear to hear you until you spoke again. “You alright?”

He slowly turned to face you with an expression of disappointment. “I’ve been putting on some weight.” He muttered with insecurity laced all over his voice, “Can you tell?” He asked anxiously, gesturing to his chest and stomach, indicating which part of him seemed larger, heavier.

But you didn’t see much of a difference. Sure, his muscles weren’t as defined as they used to be but they were still there. Only softer. Most of the weight he gained went to his chest and abdomen, so there were light stretch marks along his upper and lower body.

Still, it wasn't super obvious, and he looked good. He still had the physique you liked. Broad shoulders, a big chest, and an ass that was always worth checking out. A little tummy never hurt nobody.

“You look good, Carlos. Don’t fret over the small stuff.” You reassured, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“I just… want to look more like my old self.” He sighed, “I used to look strong, and it made me feel like I could do anything.” His eyes drifted from your face as his voice grew softer. “But now… I’m not as active as I used to be. I feel like some paunchy loser.” He made his point by grabbing a fold of skin and looking more depressed than ever.

You grabbed his hand, “I don’t think that.”

You emphasized firmly by squeezing his hand gently. “Carlos, it’s been years since Raccoon City. We’re getting older, you’re body won’t stay young and fit forever. If you wanna get back in shape, by all means, go for it. You can do anything if you put your mind to it.”

You lifted one of your hands to caress his cheek in your palm,” But no matter how much time has passed, I will always love you no matter how you look.”

You interlocked your fingers with his, “And I will always find beauty within you." You made a promise, "Even when the wrinkles start creeping in, even when you get scruffy and gray. There is beauty in you, I see it every day.” You assured with conviction.

His gaze fell from your face to the floor. His eyebrows furrowed together, his forehead creased slightly. Your heart ached for him as you stared into those sad brown eyes.

He didn’t say anything, but you knew he could hear the sincerity in your words. So you kissed him on the forehead instead of speaking, hoping that would convey what you wanted to say better than words. Your lips lingered against his forehead, brushing softly against his warm skin.

Pulling him closer, your lips drifted all over his skin. From his temple to his jawline, then the bridge of his nose. Your kisses trailed down to his neck.

Carlos went rigid. He didn’t respond at all. Not until you reached the bottom of his chin and brushed his beard with your thumb. Then, finally, his lips parted.

“Still think I’m sexy?” He broke his silence with a cheeky remark.

“Always.” You smiled before trailing your fingertips across his chin and up to his lips. “Dad bods are a total turn-on.” You added.

Carlos laughed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a strong kiss. You smiled against his lips as your fingers danced through his hair, tugging at it lightly. “God, we haven’t had sex in a while.” You muttered between kisses.

He groaned against your lips. “I know.” He began planting kisses down your jaw, “I haven’t been asking 'cause I thought you wouldn’t want me…” His teeth grazed your earlobe, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses behind.

Your breath hitched as you grabbed his shoulders, “Are you kidding? Carlos, I will always want you.” When he pulled away, you moved closer and attached your lips to his neck, nipping and sucking at his skin. You felt his body stiffen and shiver beneath your touch. “Just thinking about you makes me want you.”

You mumbled humorously against his neck as you continued to suck on the spot, eliciting a moan from him. He tightened his grip around your waist, “Yeah? You mean it?”

“Yes.” You pressed a kiss against the side of his face, “I want this to be about you. It’s all about you.” You punctuated each sentence with a small kiss. “You’re my whole world.”

Carlos pulled away, placing both hands on your cheeks and pressing his lips against yours for a slower, more sensual kiss. You moaned softly and wrapped your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers with his soft, curly locks.

He held you close and deepened the kiss. Eventually, you started grinding into him in a manner that made him whimper a bit. “Want me to take care of you?” You asked when you finally broke apart, stroking his cheek gently. He nodded.

You took him by the hand and lead him over to your bed. You crawled onto your knees as you situate Carlos under you. He laid back, letting you straddle his hips. You leaned down and gave him open-mouthed kisses along his jaw while your hands cupped his pecs.

With every touch, he bucked his hips upwards and pushed into you harder. He arched his back in pleasure as you continued to kiss his neck. “You're so sexy," you said as you trailed wet kisses down his torso. "I wanna fuck you all night long." You whispered.

His hands moved down your back to rest below your ass. He massaged the flesh underneath his hand as he pressed his body upward. You can feel his hardening cock he is as he ruts against your clothed mound.

You leaned over him, resting your forearms atop his chest to keep yourself upright. You gazed down into his face. His dark eyes glimmered with passion. “Please… please fuck me, baby.” Carlos pleaded quietly, moving his hand from underneath your ass to grab the hem of your top.

You obliged, quickly pulling the shirt up over your head, tossing it aside, and slipping out of your pants. You crawled back over his bare torso and placed gentle kisses down his chest and his stomach.

He shuddered a bit as your lips found their wait toward his navel. Carlos’s body felt hot against your skin. Your hands gripped his thighs tightly as you made your way lower and lower. All he could do was watch as you pressed your face against his erection.

You kissed his tip through the fabric of his boxers, eliciting a soft groan to escape his lips.

Carlos’s eyes fluttered shut, his head tilting back as he tried desperately to control himself. He couldn’t help but let out a few whimpers when you started rubbing circles over his dick, making him arch his hips up to meet your lips.

“God, (name)…” He groaned desperately, “Please…” A small whimper escaped his throat.

Your hands slid up to firmly hold him down, smirking against his length. “Shh, baby. I have you. Just relax for me, alright?” You cooed, curling your fingers around the waistband of his boxers. Effortlessly, you slid them down enough for his throbbing cock to spring out.

You licked your lips, staring down at his gorgeous dick that stood proud. Your tongue swiped over his tip, teasing it for a moment with multiple swipes over its slit.

A ton of pre leaked from his tip, dripping slowly down to land on your tongue. You brought your hands up to cup his balls and rolled the head of his shaft between your fingers.

As soon as you squeezed them tight enough, his body arched off the mattress. “Fuck, don’t tease me like this. Please, baby…” he begged through clenched teeth.

You looked into his eyes as you finally sucked his tip into your mouth. A loud grunt escaped him, which only served to increase your lust.

Carlos’s hand slipped into your hair, holding it tight as he tried to remain silent. He watched your face intently, trying his best to ignore the intense sensation of your throat closing around his cock. As you continued to swallow him whole, you bobbed your head up and down with every thrust.

“Baby…” The sounds coming out of his mouth were so needy. They sounded desperate. They were laced with pain. You wanted to soothe him. You wanted to give him everything.

“Don’t stop…” Carlos pleaded. “Please.” You swallowed him whole as his hips lifted gently off the mattress. You had to hold him down firmly so that he could stop squirming, but eventually, you came up for breath.

Carlos gasped a little and whined at the loss of your mouth. “No…” He gave you a look of desperation.

You leaned over him once again, smirking as his cock twitched for you. “Don’t worry, I said I’ll take care of you.” You whispered huskily against his lips.

You kissed him passionately as you mounted his hips, grinding your hips over his cock. He growled lowly as you ground harder and faster.

“(Name)...” He groaned, his head falling back as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

He opened his legs wider so that you had more access to him. You could feel his cock pulsating against your entrance.

He bucked his hips upward, trying to get as much friction in between your thighs as possible. “Come on, baby. Fuck me.” He whimpered, holding onto your hips and looking up at you for permission.

“So needy.” You chuckled. Leaning forward, you kissed him deeply and took him inch by inch. When he bottomed out, he moaned loudly and his head fell back against the mattress.

“That’s right baby.” You whispered between kisses as you rocked against his length, “I know you love this.”

[be3per]

hands on my waist 🙏

gojo satoru x gn!reader

(relationship headcannons)

includes: kissing, worshipping, compliments, nicknames, teasing, spicy scene heh heh 😁

note: im not sure if someone already posted smt like this (probably) but i was js tempted to write smt of my own 😍 hope you still like it!!! <33

enjoy! 💞

just thinking…. gojo’s hands. 🤤🤤🤤

they must be really veiny, considering the fact that he uses his hands a lot. for many reasons.

i know for a fact that if you’re his partner, that guy will be touching you. doesn’t matter where or when, his hands are on you.

i feel like he loves physical touch, constantly hugging you from behind or when you’re talking to the higher ups, pissing them off by snaking his arms around your waist and sliding his hand up your shirt to feel your warm skin against his palm.

when he buys clothes for you, he wants to feel your body, admiring your curves. i feel like if you asked him how you looked in an outfit you were unsure of, he would kiss all over your body and his hands would wander all over before telling you his answer that is true and always is,

“you look more beautiful every time i see you, angel.”

when you’re wearing his oversized shirts and only wearing your underwear underneath makes him feral. when you’re cuddling on the couch or the bed, he’ll slide his hands up your shirt or down your underwear just to feel your skin. he loves squishing and pinching your sides just to tease you while placing butterfly kisses down your neck, shoulders or jaw while muttering small ‘i love you’s.

clingy. like i mentioned, he won’t have his hands off you for a minute. when you tell him to, if you’re busy doing something, he’ll whine and beg. when you don’t give him a reaction he pouts and stands still for a moment before he can’t hold back, picking you up and hugging you to his chest, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“sorry. you looked too cute.” he would say.

when wearing lingerie, he would rip them off instantly just to have you in bed the next minute. he would be kissing and biting all over your skin, hands a bit more shaky than usual.

“yes babe, i know i bought you those.”

“come on! i’ll buy you more. just give me what i need.”

he loves when you bounce on his cock, his hands roughly gripping your hips or your waist, squeezing your skin and rubbing shapes with his thumb as he stares at you, mesmerized.

“fuck yeah, just like that pretty. uh huh, you’re— ah— doing so good.”

“mm mm, not done. just a little more, yeah? you look so fucking good on top of me.”

“you’re close..? alright.. when my cum starts leaking out of your pretty hole, don’t be alarmed if my dick starts rising again.”

“my baby needs to hold my hand? give it to me, love. you know i love blowing your back out with some leverage.”

this man loves to choke you (with consent). whether he randomly gets the urge or if he gets the idea while pounding into you, when you agree, his hand is already eagerly wrapping around your pretty throat. he loves flexing his veins, seeing how it compliments seeing your face flush after he applies light pressure on the side of your neck.

“mm.. i guess i wont need to buy you a new necklace if my hand looks just as pretty on you, yeah?” (you know fully well he still will buy you a new necklace. possibly with his name on it.)

in softer moments, he loves when you brush or style his hair. his loves feeling your fingers lightly scratch his scalp, soft groans coming out his lips.

for someone that loves to feel you, he loves it when he receives it back. — <( ^_^ )>

[bumblesimagines]

Headcanon:

Dating Natalie Scatorccio

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

~~~

Natalie Scatorccio is a complicated girl. She puts up this tough, hardened, sarcastic exterior for others, especially those who look down on her for living in a trailer park, her sense of style, or her drinking and occasional drug usage. Natalie's used to the insults, the jabs, being constantly undermined or ignored. Despite what she's been through and how others perceive her, Natalie has a kind heart and a strong set of ethics that come out when someone needs protecting. As such, Natalie needs someone who looks past her hard exterior (and the rumors surrounding her) and embraces everything she is.

Natalie isn't much of a relationship kind of girl. Sure, she'd like one, just as anyone else would, but she knows most people at school apart from a select few only see her as trailer trash. She lets her eyes wander often and sometimes lets her mind do too, but there's always some insecurity or negative thought ready to bring her down. 

Until she meets you and she gets that fluttery, mouth-drying, heart-racing feeling in her stomach for the first time in a while.

Natalie has a love-hate relationship with crushes. They can be distracting, and depending on the person, heart-achingly annoying. But with you it's different. Her worries vanish when she meets your gaze and she smiles despite herself, even if it means enduring teasing from the other Yellowjackets. 

Natalie pretends to be confident when you first begin dating. She tries being the cool, chill, no-problem girlfriend most would expect her to be. Except she's not. She worries a lot, whether about you, how you feel about her, or how the relationship is, Natalie worries to hell and back. She half-expects you to change your mind about everything, to take back everything you've said and believe the rumors about her sleeping around or being this or that. 

Her anxieties ease with time and reassurance, although she despises feeling like a burden when she admits her worries to you. Some parts even feel guilty and not good enough when you kiss her and tell her everything's alright. Her father's nasty words echo in the back of her mind but just one warm, gentle touch from you silences him and she relaxes, turning putty in your hands. 

Natalie's an attentive girlfriend. She's an observer of sorts and she keeps all your interests in mind, locking away in her brain to remember for later. After practice, she enjoys going to your favorite place to eat and chat about school, the Yellowjackets, and anything else that comes to mind.

Natalie opens up gradually, letting you see a softer more vulnerable side that not many get the opportunity to see. She dances around the subject of bringing you home with her since the last time she brought someone over, it ended in her father's accidental death. But she embraces the fear and the memories hand-in-hand with you and takes you home, even if it's just briefly. Natalie finds it difficult to speak of her father, of her childhood, but she trusts you enough to do so and appreciates your soothing words and loving gestures.

Natalie is big on physical touch and quality time. She loves touching you, although most of the time she prefers it in private and out of sight. However, even in public, she'll try to find a way, whether it's through hand holding, being close enough to brush shoulders, fixing an article of clothing for you, resting her head on your shoulder. Sometimes you'll even be granted a kiss on the cheek. Behind closed doors, Natalie's all over you. As much as she enjoys talking, she likes making out a whole lot more and you'll often find her on your lap or curled up at your side.

Natalie likes cupping your face when she kisses you, one could say it's a habit of hers. You already know what she wants when she places her hands on your cheeks and gives you one of those cheeky smiles. 

Being with Natalie means going to the WHS Yellowjacket games. It means a lot to her when she finds you seated in the stands cheering them on, cheering her on. She always gives it her all during games, lest she wants a lecture from Taissa or Coach Martinez, but she tries even harder when she knows you're there watching her. Each time the game ends with them as victors, she'll rush over to you and envelope you in a hug, thanking you for being there and giving promises of spending time alone together. 

The Yellowjackets are a family as well as a team. No matter how many times they fight or argue or have their disagreements or literally break each other's legs, they're family and love each other. Despite that, Natalie takes her time introducing you to the team. Most of them already know from simply watching or overhearing gossip, and while Mari or Jackie may ask once or twice, they try to respect the distance. When Natalie finally officially introduces you as her partner, many girls jump at the chance to ask you questions, ranging from sweet ones to rude or offensive ones that have Natalie scowling and dragging you in the opposite direction. Regardless, the girls begin inviting you to things or greeting you in the halls and generally treating you as one of their own. You put Natalie in a better mood and the girls appreciate it. 

Despite the rumors of Natalie sleeping around, she's only ever slept with two guys, something she admits to you with worry that you soothe away without even meaning to. Once past the rumor mill, Natalie often initiates sex, sometimes in the most random of private places. Sometimes in a car, on school grounds, at your place, or the bathroom of some random party. She's a hormonal teenage girl who's head over heels. Who could blame her? Though, expect her to be putty in your hands if you make the first move. She'll get all giggly and blush red like a tomato.

All in all, Natalie makes for a good girlfriend, despite her troubles and tragic childhood. She tries her best and she'll always consider you one of her first priorities in life, even if it means putting you before herself. You're the first one she runs to with news, the first person she thinks of when she wakes up in the morning, the first person she seeks out in school. She'll protect you with her life if needed and will defend you against anyone.

But everything changes when Flight 2525 crashes in the wilderness.

[captain-mj]

I’m on my hands and knees BEGGING you for a stripper au 🙇🙇🙇🙇

Of course!! I've been dying to make one of these!!

Soap should not be here. He's a college professor for fuck's sake. He makes decent money but it's the principle of the things. Why would he go to a strip club when he could go to the bar and actually go home with someone?

But it was what his friends had invited him to do and he went along with it.

He tried not to overthink his clothing or the chances of him seeing any of his students there.

Soap ordered a scotch and tried to find somewhere to sit. It was a mixed club with men and women. It seemed... a little seedy despite the more expensive feeling of the place. Something about the entire thing felt off. He brushed off his feelings, blaming Catholic judgement for it.

Chuy had amassed a group of men and women around him to listen to his cryptid facts. He occasionally passed them money so they were making something but they were also choosing to stay next to him.

Gaz was staring at Chuy, trying to understand how he managed to do that.

Alejandro had disappeared... somewhere.

Soap took a sip of his drink, liking it at least. He doubted it was anything too fancy but it did the job just fine.

Pretty people went past him. Some flirted or tried to get him to take a lap dance, but he wasn't interested. They were nice, but not really his type. Nor did he want to blow a bunch of money just for the sake of it.

Soap found a place to sit where he could watch the stage, trying to see where everyone had disappeared to.

There was someone his type. Tall. Dressed in black. Broad shoulders and burly chest. Makeup all around his eyes. Pretty eyeliner.

The man, Ghost if his name tag meant anything, looked more like a bouncer than a stripper. But he was shirtless with just a mask and tight pants and he was eyeing Soap.

Big doe brown eyes staring into him, silently asking if he wanted his attention.

Soap was very happy there was an ATM nearby. With a confidence that was very much faked, he motioned for him to come over.

Ghost walked over. He didn't bat his eyelashes or immediately straddle him. He just stood between Soap's legs and looked down at him, almost like he inconvenienced him.

Soap put a twenty in Ghost's pocket and that look melted away, replaced with something much nicer.

"You look lonely."

Fucking Brits. Of course he was British. That didn't change that Soap's body had a visceral reaction to his voice.

"It's cause I am. Come to give me some company?"

Ghost laughed at him. It made Soap shrink back and his cheeks flushed. If anything though, it made him a little harder in his jeans. "You're cute. Name?"

Soap looked down his body, admiring the hard muscle and the slightly softer stomach. His hands fidgeted. "Soap."

"You can touch. And my name is Ghost."

Soap was immediately all over him. He'd like to use his mouth but that would be a little much in such a public area.

It would occur to him in exactly six hours that one of the biggest rules about strip clubs is you don't touch the dancer. And that Ghost had not let anyone else touch him that night. That would be in six hours though and right now, he was just marveling at the scarring along Ghost's body.

They were impossible to see with the club lighting, but he could feel them under his fingertips. The texture similar to a scar he had on his hand from dropping a knife.

He squeezed his eyes tight and gripped Ghost's sides. Ghost's hand grabbed his chin and made him look up. Dark eyes inches from his face.

"You alright, love?"

Soap shoved more money into Ghost's hands. "How much for a private dance?"

"I don't usually do those."

Soap must've looked distressed because Ghost, the saint, took pity on him. "Fine. How much do you have?"

"Three hundred dollars."

"I'll give you an hour."

Soap nodded and followed him excitedly. He didn't miss Ghost's amused glance.

The man grabbed the pole, slowly spinning around it as he watched Soap sit down. "You're adorable."

Soap blushed more and dropped his money at Ghost's feet. "Going to lose the mask?"

"You don't want me to. Trust me." Ghost jumped up and spun faster, suspending himself and expose his chest more.

"You ugly under there?"

"Quite the opposite."

"Worried I'll fall in love with you?"

"Absolutely." Ghost spun around slowly and arched his back. "Can't have you following me home, vying for me attention."

Soap felt himself getting hard. His body moved with such fluidity and grace that it was hard to not think of how it would feel to be underneath him. To have Ghost grabbing his hips. Would he prefer to be on top or bottom? He was more than happy either way. As long as those fucking abs were pressed against him, he could live with it.

Ghost crossed over to him and straddled him. He was so much bigger. So much fucking bigger. "Your hands go below my belt and I'll get you banned."

"Yes, sir."

"I like sir."

"Anything you want, sir." Soap smiled at him and put his hands on Ghost's waist. He ground down on him, the pressure against his body making him half crazy. His hips jerked up and Ghost paused, glaring.

"Don't move."

Soap took a deep breath and nodded. Ghost started to move again, letting Soap get a good look on him. It was so easy to imagine less clothing. God, he'd bankrupt himself to have Ghost riding him like this. His pants had slid down to see his v-line.

Soap slid his hands further up and touched his throat. Ghost purred and pressed in harder. "You're a pretty guy, you know that?"

Soap blushed more. "Thank you, sir."

Ghost stood up and trailed his hands between Soap's thighs, so tempting. Was he actually going to?? To touch?? him?? He was hoping for a lot here but his hands were getting so close.

Gaz knocked quickly. "Hey, Johnny, we gotta go. Right now. We're getting kicked out. Alejandro flirted a little too much with his favorite stripper."

Soap felt his heart sink. "Wai-"

Ghost stood up and fixed his pants. "Oh. You're Vargas's friend?"

Soap cringed. "Ah. Is that a bad thing?"

"Get out."

Soap moped the entire night, being extra mean to Alejandro for ruining that for him.

"I think I just missed the love of my life."

"He was a stripper. He just wanted your money." Chuy pointed out. He was currently washing the phone numbers off his arm. All of them were glaring at him.

Soap went to bed and maybe cried a little. Just a little. He refused to be that heartbroken over a guy he met for five minutes. His dick was heartbroken though.

Fucking Vargas.

He couldn't blame him too much. It was Rodolfo he had been flirting with. Those two had been chasing each other for ages and now Alejandro just blew as much money on him as he could until he ran out and Rodolfo kicked him out for it.

Soap crawled out of bed that day and went to work. He passed all of his colleagues, still thinking of those dark eyes and gorgeous body.

"Professor MacTavish." One of his colleagues greeted him as he passed.

Soap froze and turned around. Dark eyes. Gorgeous body. Ginger hair.

Professor Riley, someone Soap barely interacted with, stood there. Cardigan wrapped around him. He wore a medical mask thanks to self proclaimed "hideous" scarring.

"Hi..."

Ghost looked at him. "Yes, MacTavish?"

"I..."

Ghost tilted his head, looking confused. "Something wrong?"

Soap shook his head. "No..."

Ghost nodded and turned away to keep making his tea.

[randomciabatta724]

Some Polites headcanons because they're good for the soul.

Note: these are a mix of details from the musical I wanted to expand on, stuff I've read from other posts, and things I randomly came up with.

He was in the frontlines (or at least near them) during the Trojan war. Not because he wanted to fight, he just thought "if I have to join the battle, I'll at least shield those behind me". I took this from Survive, because he had to be pretty close to Polyphemus to be the first one hit by the club.

Self sacrificial. Very self sacrificial. Would die for the crew, especially for Odysseus and Eurylochus.

Loves dates. Either on their own or with honey. I don't know why, he just gives me the vibe.

Had night terrors both during and after the war. Either nightmares about the people he killed (let's face it, you don't come out of a 10 year war without getting blood on your hands) or his friends dying in battle. Never explicitly told anyone, but he would stay with his friends a little longer the morning after. Also picked a lot more night watch turns as a result, just to get his mind off of things.

Bruises/gets injured extremely easily, and doesn't notice/care. Especially if someone else is hurt too. "Are you alright?" asks Polites to another soldier while coughing up blood.

Also very durable, somehow. That's why Polyphemus had to hit him twice/j.

Myopic king. The glasses are a gift from Athena, because she was like "I think you're a soft-hearted fool, but I'll be damned if you embarrass my Warrior of the Mind because you can't see beyond the bridge of your nose".

The type of person to keep eating horrible/possibly poisoned food just to not offend the person who prepared it. Odysseus had to smack the lotus out of his hand because he would have still taken a bite to not make the lotus eaters upset (he brought some with him anyway, that's where Odysseus got the lotuses to put in the wine).

Many have already said this, he's the therapist friend before therapy was invented.

Gives the best hugs.

Taller than Odysseus but shorter than Eurylochus (Odysseus reaches Polites' chest, Polites reaches Eurylochus' nose).

Apologises when he bumps into furniture. It's a reflex, he doesn't notice he does it. It's a remnant of his pre-glasses days, when he couldn't distinguish a person from a vase.

The ancient Greek equivalent of a Godfather to Telemachus.

Extremely trusting, sometimes a little too much (fun fact: in the Odyssey he's like the first one to enter Circe's palace).

Very forgiving. He gives second, third, even fourth chances like it's nothing, no matter how badly someone hurts him. You have to be pretty forgiving to still think about greeting the world with open arms after being clubbed to death. (Note: this does not apply to his friends getting hurt).

When he takes off his bandana, his curls reach his shoulders and cover his left eye, and it gives him a whole different vibe. He still radiates warmth, but it's not the same. Kinda like the sun at noon and the sun at dusk. The second is still warm and welcoming, but dimmer, softer, maybe a little darker. People have mistaken him for someone else because of this.

Super heavy sleeper. One time when they were younger, Odysseus and Eurylochus decided to try and wake him up by making the most noise possible. They did not succeed.

His first kiss was Eurylochus while Odysseus was away in Sparta to court Penelope.

One time, someone tried to rob him. The guy was like "Give me your money!" and Polites was like "Oh dear, look at you, of course I'll give you my money, you look like you really need it. Also, why don't you come to my house so I can give you some food and clean clothes?". The thief was so ashamed of himself he ran away.

He befriended Charon in the Underworld.

You know the plague that Apollo sent during the Iliad? He may or may not have gotten it, I haven't decided yet.

Considering that in epic the sirens have the ability to shapeshift into loved ones, there was definitely a siren Polites somewhere during Suffering/Different Beast.

He's generally a very calm person, the only thing that really gets him angry is when his friends get hurt. And when he's angry, he's not someone to mess with. He can and will kick ass. And the thing that rubs salt in the wound is that if you get beat up by Polites, it's almost certainly your fault, because Polites isn't the kind of person that goes around randomly beating people up. And very few people wish to carry the title "The person who got beat up by Polites".

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

The last headcanon is something I've also based a scenario on. Basically, after Odysseus kills the suitors, they go to the Underworld. Most of them are still shaken up by the whole thing, which is understandable, getting shot by an enemy you can't see while unarmed in the dark is not fun, but not Antinous. Antinous is pissed. And so he rallies up the other suitors, he gives a whole speech where he basically says they can get revenge on Odysseus once he joins them there and also reveals all the shit they did while he was gone. And Polites is like, talking to Eurylochus or something, when he overhears. And so he goes to give Antinous the beating of his life because you do **not** disrespect his best friend and his family like that. And the suitors+Eurylochus are watching from a corner, with the suitors getting even more scared.

That's it. Nothing more :)

I know Eurylochus is married to Ctimene but I SHIP HIM AND POLITES SO BAD AAAAAAAAHHHHHH

[miokki]

# HIDDEN

✰ synopsis: a blizzard seems to bring more than snow—in this ribbon wrapped package includes a broken boyfriend and an array of emotions

✰ paring: tartaglia x gn!reader

✰ warnings: blood and wounds but nothing gory described to insanely.

✰ notes: i’ve been holding this one in my drafts for like forever, i think it deserves some recognition now. i think i wrote it in jan tho?

ajax comes home late; it's been awhile since it hasn't been that way. you know he's a busy man — it's to be expected of a harbinger. it's what you signed up for when you decided to further pursue your two's relationship, and one of those attempts were for him to move most of his things into your home and the rest in his family's home despite his protest. you thought that it would bring him home more often than not with the little sentiment his things have in them.

however, it barely feels like you're sharing a home with him at times. as more often than not; he returns home after you fall asleep and leaves before you arouse from your slumber. so, when you're sitting awake in your and your boyfriend's shared bed and you suddenly hear creaking at the front of the house, your curiosity is heavily peaked.

you can hear the harsh sounds of a sneznayan blizzard become loud, both the strong winds and snow crashing down on to the earth mercilessly as you slip off the bed. your toes gently hitting the cool wooden flooring in an attempt to not gain your boyfriend's attention. quietly dragging your blanket off the bed, and wrapping it around yourself with only your head and the strands of your hair sticking out.

the first few steps you take are calculated and careful, only putting the weight of your body down when you're sure it's a plank of wood that won't squeak. and while still careful, the next steps you take are more confident—navigating the floor as if you were a seasoned adventurer from the adventurers' guild until you get to the bedroom door. only taking an ever-so-small breath of relief as your eyes gaze through the crack of the door. your eyebrows furrowing when observing your orange-haired man sprawled all over the couch. his chest moving up and down as if he had been chased all the way home.

you know that checking on him from a far should of been it, yet the rest of your actions are your body's doing. seemingly moving on its own as your hand pushes the door in front of you open. only to reveal a dimly lit living room and a trail of footprints starting at the front door to ending at the couch. the couch placed not far from the right of the entrance.

a split second later, your boyfriend is now staring at you. his head upside down from your view touching the back of the couch as he looks at you with a look of both shame and panic. however, you only look back blankly before moving towards him.

"move over," you whisper, your hands gesturing to his arms laying of both armrests.

you internally giggle at the way he swiftly shuffles at your request, acting as if you were an higher up of his. ajax still stares at you with his ocean blues, now hidden by the dark of the night as you sit beside him. the blanket that once was wrapped around you now spread across both yours and his lap to share the warmth.

yet, he still says nothing-waiting for you to make your move so he can counteract yours.

"love, is this the time you've been coming back," you ask, looking away from your lap to look at him however your eyes widen at the sight of him.

"your bleeding," you say softly, your hand reaching out to the red on his sleeve but he moves away.

"babe, it's dark. it's probably from the blizzard."

"don’t lie."

you push your fingertips further, breaking through the atmosphere to touch the dampen surface, "wait, ow... be careful." he winces, his tone becoming softer.

"alright, alright, i may have got ahead of myself," ajax chuckles. your eyes explore his body—taking notice at the slight rips in his clothing and the ever growing spots of bloods seeping through the fabric, the more notable ones at his side and all up his right arm.

"lift your arms up," you yawn as you reach to unbutton parts of his shirt.

sounds of your boyfriend's attire rustling break the air as he shifts around, though his movements short and unsure. you can feel him sucking sharply in a breath as you place your fingers under the shirt in order to lift it over his head. quickly tugging up on the fabric as gently as you can to lessen the pain. ajax's arms then lower as to make the rest of the process less difficult and awkward.

it's when you stare at your boyfriend's shirtless body, then your blank expression breaks slightly and your breathing halts. it hurts you a little that he's being hiding this from you. the scars. the ones scattered all over his torso, ones that blend in with his freckled and tattered skin. the ones that you want to touch and caress. yet, as you reach his untouched shoulder the moonlight shines onto your face, and you think that ajax has seen the look in your eyes.

"i'm sorry, love. i.." he says reaching out for your hand before wincing once again.

"right," you exclaim, pulling your hand back, remembering that you should patch him up. "hun, where's the bandages?"

"under the coffee table," he sighs.

you look to front of you to not only see the bandages but a pack of cotton balls and a bottle saline laying right where he said. how did i not notice something like that? you think to yourself.

you pick up all three, place them down on top of the table and then take a cotton ball out of the packaging and the bottle of saline solution. soon after, you put the cotton on top of the open bottle before tipping it upside down. the ocean smelling liquid swishes around inside until you quickly flip the bottle back up and place it back up onto the wooden table.

you turn your eyes back to your lover, seemingly more relaxed when you first approached him in his weakened state. your eyes tracing his slouched shoulders and the way his body has now ensconced into the cushion. his heavy dark-blue eyes stare back through messy hair as your movements break through the air, your hand shifting towards one of the wounds on his arm.

the motion is soft as the soaked cotton meets the injury-trying to be as brief and gentle as possible to lessen the man's pain. yet despite your efforts, he still flinches away from the former ball of fluff, softly hissing under his breath as you continue disinfecting the gash.

"what happened?" your voice, earnest, while you replace the blood covered cotton ball for a new one-moving further down his arm to clean the others.

he sighs defeated, "what can i say? people truly hate debt collectors," he jokes. "no, but i got unlucky and provoked the company the fatui had been funding for years. there may have been one or two payments in the past, yet we haven't gotten any payments back on the last several months. what i didn't anticipate was how strong their men were as a whole."

the orange-haired man's chest bounces up and down as he tells the story as if was an adventure book, smiling at the fight. he's quick to point out where he got the wound from when you clean them up. you notice it distracts him from the pain of it and it's not long before all the tension in the air dissipates. your smile soft against your lips as two of you talk until your up to the last of his wounds to bandage.

you squint at the slash on his forearm, the roll of gauze in hand as apply the dressing on top wound before starting to secure it. the skin between your eyebrows beginning to crease from your state of concentration.

"what's on your mind, my dear?" ajax hums.

"nothing important," you say, an obvious lie on your part. he laughs inwardly, "come on, love. you know i don't just ask questions for the sake talking. talk to me," he whispers, his head becoming closer.

you only let out a rather large breath of air through your nose. actively pausing the wrapping of bandages to think of what to say—wanting to get the right message across towards your concerns about him and the two of you. the moon shining bright out the window as you find the right words.

"i guess..." you start, accidentally fumbling with the gauze, "i want you to be more honest with me."

"I don't want to be someone you hide from, ajax. i want you to rely on me. i know i'm not strong in the way you are, but i don't want to live knowing that there's a truth you won't tell me," you express, your hand grasping onto his.

the skin is rough and vein, yet ajax’s hold on you is tight as your thumb slides over his skin. and still, his grasp is unsure— shaky even as he shares a worried look with you.

"and what if you don't like the the side i hide?" you lover says reluctantly, his breath nearing your neck

you gaze up, "i couldn't imagine a world where i don't come to love you," you reply through loving eyes, your hand coming up to cup his cheek before kissing the corner of his lips.

"ajax, i want you to trust me with all of you. your scars, your secrets, your thoughts—even the unpleasant ones. all of it. so, please, don't hide, my love." your words flow as naturally as your tears on face.

yet as they roll into the corners of your mouth, all you can taste is the bittersweetness of the night before the feeling of ajax's soft lips connecting with your own is the sole thing that consumes you. you can only smile as you bathe in the sensation of his love on yours.

do not copy of repost any of my works.

@ miokki 2024