dubaicarpetwashing-blog

[misctf]

The Demon's Curse

Here's the final Halloween story I have for the month! Hope you enjoy it- I do plan to work on the requests I got soon- please feel free to keep them coming too. Thanks everyone and enjoy!

_______________________

“This can’t be real.” Luke thinks, as he stares blankly at his professor.

The brunette looks down at the ancient book his professor gestures to. If it was any other situation, he and his bros would be laughing. There’s a detailed illustration of a large demonic figure, surrounded by six muscular men. All of whom are on their knees, sporting vacant eyes, caged cocks, and large asses. A seventh sits atop the demonic figure, his ass impaled by its meaty cock.

“So you see, this demon...” His professor continues.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He only visited Ms. Galva- an isolated crone living at the edge of town- to apologize for his fraternity brothers. They threw toilet paper across her lawn and smeared shaving cream on her home. All part of a decades-long, yearly tradition the night before Halloween. And Luke, as the recently appointed risk manager, did not join them. He even tried to stop it. But Jim wasn’t about to give up on tradition. Luke tried to apologize to her the next day. He was not expecting her to finally lose it after years of mistreatment by the community. Warning him that he would get what he deserved.

“Luke, are you listening?” Luke snaps back to the present and looks over at Dr. Finnigan, “You know, I was quite intrigued as to why you wanted to discuss this particular demon.” The older man says, “He is a fierce one. A demon of sexual deviance.”

“I just heard the name somewhere.” Luke lies. In truth, the day after his visit with Ms. Galva, the demon visited him. Telling Luke to refer to it as his new master.

“I pity the man who meets this demon.” Dr. Finnigan continues, “He torments his victims for six days, up until finally taking them.”

“Yeah...” Luke mumbles, trying to discretely adjust his boner. For the past six days, his cock remained rock hard. Yet no matter how much he tried to jerk off, he couldn’t reach climax. The sensation now tortuous, “What do you mean by take them?”

“He takes them to live eternity as...as its... well...” He gestures to the book and Luke gets the idea. He feels his stomach drop, a wave of nausea washing over him. His situation becoming all the more dire- today was day six.

“Is there any way for someone to...”

Dr. Finnigan shakes his head, “Not when they’ve been taken.” Luke’s heart skips a beat, “But for the curse to be unleashed in the first place, the victim’s name must be written in a book of the damned. If that book is destroyed, well...”

“The curse is lifted.” Luke finishes the sentence and receives a nod from the professor. He feels a sense of hope, “Thank you, Dr. Finnigan.” He smiles, and the brunette stands up and quickly leaves, his mission clear.

_______

“I think I know what book you’re talking about.” Stacy says, “Ms. Galva keeps it on a pedestal in her living room.”

Luke sighs, “Are you sure? I don’t want you...”

“I will. I’ve been bringing her groceries for months and we’re friendly. I’ll grab the book.” She replies with a small smile.

Luke returns the smile, unable to verbally express his gratitude. Not only for her believing him, but for helping too. He met Stacy at a mixer, where it was clear the two had feelings for one another, however, no moves were made. Yet now, Luke was determined to ask her out after this was settled.

“I can go over right now. She’s expecting me.”

Stacy leans over and kisses him on the cheek, causing Luke to blush. And with a quick wave, she leaves. Luke sighs and falls back onto his bed, his thoughts racing. But he’s soon interrupted as the room around him heats up. Sweat pours from his skin and he removes his shirt. The heat becoming unbearable.

“Luke.” Luke jumps when he hears the voice echoing around him, “Oh Luke...” It taunts, “It’s almost time Luke.”

“Leave me the fuck alooooohhhh.” He moans as an invisible hand strokes his hardened dick.

“I can’t wait, Luke. I can’t wait to fuck you for the first time.” The demon moans, “To make you mine. For all eternity. Just my beautiful muscle slut.”

Unwanted images of his future fill the young man’s mind. His ass bloated with fat and muscle. The demon’s hand’s groping and squeezing his juicy mounds, causing him to moan. He can hear himself begging for the demon’s cock. His voice filled with lust and desperation.

“No please...” Luke pleads, shaking his head. Trying to dispel these images.

The room returns to its original temperature and Luke is alone again. The young man breathing heavily. His body covered in sweat. It was only a matter of time, and Luke knew his time was soon.

“Hey bro, you good?” Luke grimaces at the sound of Jim’s voice, “I’m setting up a bonfire. You interested?”

“I’m good, dude.” Luke replies, wincing as his dick throbs.

“Suit yourself.”

----------

An hour later, Stacy returns- book in hand. Luke could barely contain his relief. He hugs her, not bothering to put on a shirt.

“We... we should take care of this.” She says, her face reddening.

“Yeah, for sure.” He replies, blushing and rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, “I think I know what to do with it.” Visible from the window, Jim’s bonfire rages.

The two hastily approach the dancing flames. Luke can see Jim near the forest, grabbing more wood. Some thunder rumbling in the distance. The brunette looks over at Stacy and smiles. And the two toss the book into the flames. It makes a hissing sound as it slowly burns, and for the first time in days, Luke feels a sense of peace wash over him.

“We did it.” He mumbles, “We...” His words are cut short as Stacy kisses him deeply, and runs a hand along his bare chest.

And a few moments later, they’re back in his bedroom. Kissing passionately. Her hands running along his chest. His own hands moving up her shirt. He moans as she moves lower, removing his pants and exposing his throbbing dick. It had been a few days and he was ready. And as she sucks him off, he lets out another moan. He could feel himself getting close. And closer. And closer still. Yet after a few minutes, no climax. Stacy is clearly tired at this point, and looks up at him.

“Is something...?”

“No, no, it’s great.” Luke pants, “But...”

There’s a knock at his door and the two quickly fumble to redress. Luke walks over and opens it, to reveal Jim.

“Hey dude.” He says with a grin, “I saw you throw something into the fire.” He holds up the charred, yet very much intact, cursed book. He can hear Stacy gasp, but he’s too shocked to react, “It started raining and put it out.” Luke stares at the book, his heart pounding in his chest, “But dude, this thing looks pretty expensive. You sure you...?”

“No, no, no!” Luke says, a sense of dread filling him as he backs away, “We need to...”

The sound of wood cracking fills the room as an arm reaches up from the ground and grabs Luke’s leg. The young man yelps as he falls flat on his back. Jim and Stacy look on in horror as more arms reach out and restrain Luke.

“No please!” He shouts, as he struggles against the muscular arms, “Fuck! Get off me! Help!”

He watches as his pants burn away, leaving him exposed. His erect cock throbbing more intensely than ever before. He cries out as he feels something cold and metallic wrapping around his dick, forcing it to soften. The sensation is unbearable as his manhood is forcefully restrained.  

“Ah please, fuck!”

He writhes as a cage secures itself around his dick- sealing it away for all eternity. Never to find release. He cries out again as his muscles start to contract and relax rapidly. His lean figure beginning to swell with meaty muscle. He begs for mercy as his pecs violently expand, the new growths partially obstructing his view. His arms and thighs follow- becoming engorged with meaty muscle. He cries out as his bones crack and shift, accommodating his new mass and height.

“No please...help me...” He begs, his voice deepening. He looks down at his stomach as his abs forcefully pop into existence. And he realizes with dread that he’s taking on the features from the men in the drawing- the demon’s personal muscle slut, “I can’t... Someone! Please help me!” Arghhhhh!”

More images of his future start to flash through his mind. He can see it more clearly than ever- his vacant eyes, his mouth and ass filled with his master’s cock. Master? Luke’s eyes widen as he realizes his mind is betraying him too.

“Not... not my master...” He grunts, trying desperately to free himself.

But even with his newfound strength he is unable to. And as the hands grope his growing ass, Luke cries out again. But this time in unwanted pleasure. He can feel them teasing his hole, preparing him for his new master. Weakening his resistance.

“No, don’t! Ohhhhhhhhh...” He moans as the teasing fingers push deeper into him.

He barely registers the embers that singe away his body hair leaving him hairless. Even his messy brunette locks singe away, leaving him with a buzz cut. The only similarity now between the writhing muscular man and the former Luke are his terrified eyes.

“You’re ready.” A voice whispers in his ear.

“No! Wait!” Luke feels the hands grip him tightly. And then they pull him down.   

The room around him begins to vanish. The horrified looks from Stacy and Jim disappear from view. And as he’s dragged to his new life, his mind starts to break. He tries to think of anything besides his caged cock and throbbing, needy ass. But he can’t. His name, memories, and dreams are locked deep in his mind. Tears of frustration fill his eyes as he tries to access them. But suddenly, he’s on all fours, panting heavily. When he looks up, he’s greeted by the sight of his new master’s meaty cock, which slaps him in the face. He whimpers and slowly looks around at the other men- his new brothers. And then his attention turns back to his master. A sudden, unbearable, and desperate hunger begins to fill him. His tongue falls from his mouth. His eyes half-lidded and vacant.

“Welcome Luke.” His master says with a grin, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

________

The storm rages outside as Dr. Finnigan goes to close his book. But something catches his eye.  

“Odd.” He mumbles, inspecting the picture closely. Instead of seven men with the demon, there are now eight. The eighth man is bent over as the demon fucks his ass. The new man’s mouth opened wide in an endless moan, “I could’ve sworn... I must be getting old.” He mutters, closing the book.

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

𝑅𝒜𝐹𝐸 𝒞𝒜𝑀𝐸𝑅𝒪𝒩-𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲 𝒜𝐿𝒫𝐻𝒜𝐵𝐸𝒯

A - Aftercare Rafe isn’t naturally nurturing, so after sex, don’t expect a lot of softness. At best, he’ll bring you water or pull you into his chest before drifting off himself. If he really cares about you, though, he’ll surprise you by asking if you’re comfortable or finding out what kind of aftercare you like, especially if it lets him feel like he’s still got a hold on you.

B - Body Part Rafe’s all about curves. He’s obsessed with your chest and can lose himself with his face buried there. Hands on your hips or gripping your ass make him feel in control. He’s never subtle about what he likes, constantly touching and grabbing, and he’ll keep you bare or wearing next to nothing around him whenever he can.

C - Cum He has a thing for going all out, Rafe likes filling you, feeling your body take it all. He wants you to wear his cum with pride, especially if he’s given you an intense session. Seeing you dripping or tasting himself on you after he’s come is something he finds insanely hot, and he loves it even more when he sees the evidence left on your body.

D - Dirty Secret Surprisingly, Rafe was a bit inexperienced early on, relying more on his charm than actual skill. By the time he left high school, he made up for it by racking up experiences and learning what he was good at. He keeps a list of his past flings on his phone, but once he’s with you, he drops them all without a second thought, focusing on making you the only one.

E - Experience Rafe knows he leaves a mark on his partners, he has a reputation and lives up to it. Girls talk, and he’s perfected the art of being unforgettable. He doesn’t care what others think, but he makes sure that anyone he’s been with can’t deny he’s given them their best.

F - Favorite Position Missionary is a favorite because he loves seeing you completely surrendered under him, and it lets him go as deep as he wants. From time to time, he’ll flip you over for backshots or reverse cowgirl, but when he’s in control, he prefers positions where he can watch you come undone beneath him.

G - Goofy Rafe isn’t one for being soft or playful, but he’ll tease you with low comments and half smirks, edging you on until you’re blushing. His humor leans toward the cocky, and he can get borderline mean with it, but he knows how to switch back to sweet, making you crave his approval.

H - Hair He keeps himself trimmed, just enough to keep it looking good. When it comes to you, he has specific preferences and isn’t afraid to say so. He’ll even pay for you to get waxed to his liking and find reasons to run his hands over your skin, making sure it’s smooth exactly the way he likes it.

I - Intimacy Emotionally, Rafe is guarded, and letting people in takes time. He’ll put in minimal effort at first, maybe taking you out or showing a bit of softness in bed. When he’s really invested, he’ll put his walls down little by little, expressing feelings in small moments, like brushing your hair back or giving you a lingering kiss before he leaves.

J - Jack Off Before you, he rarely needed to get himself off, with plenty of people willing to satisfy him. Now, when you’re apart, he’s not shy about thinking of you. He’ll send you a teasing text, describing exactly what he’s doing or even sharing a video of him jerking off just to let you know he’s thinking about you.

K - Kink He’ll deny it, but Rafe has a major breeding kink. He loves the idea of marking you with every ounce of him, but he’s careful about birth control, kids aren’t on the table. Spanking, domination, and a little bit of roughness are also big for him, and he lives for the sound of you calling him “Daddy,” even if he’ll pretend he doesn’t care.

L - Location Rafe’s not picky about location. If the mood strikes, he’ll go for it, on the kitchen counter, the couch, the back seat of his car, or even a public restroom if you’re game. He finds the thrill exciting, knowing that no one else can have what he’s taking.

M - Motivation A short skirt, a revealing top, or even just a look can set him off. He loves seeing you in something daring that’s barely covering anything. If you want to guarantee a reaction, playfully irritate him, acting oblivious until he decides to take control and set you straight.

N - No Too much neediness and clinginess are quick turn offs. He’s also a stickler for cleanliness, Rafe has a thing for freshly showered skin and expects you to be just as particular. Anything he finds “too messy” is off limits, but he still likes the idea of a bit of tasteful mess with you.

O - Oral He’s fantastic at giving and knows it, but there’s something he adores about having you on your knees. He likes the power in watching you struggle to take him, eyes tearing up as you gasp. He’s probably saved a few videos of you doing it, too, for when he’s traveling or just in the mood to relive it.

P - Pace Fast and relentless is his go to. He likes to be rough, making you lose control under him. When you ask, he can be slow, but he’s naturally intense and prefers it hard, especially when he knows you crave it.

Q - Quickie He loves a quickie. There’s something exciting about doing it fast, especially in the morning before he leaves, when you’re still sleepy. It lets him satisfy both of you just enough to get through the day.

R - Risk Rafe’s got a bit of a daredevil streak and isn’t afraid to take things up a notch. He’ll push you to try new things, pulling out toys you might not expect. He’s careful with anything serious, but he enjoys pushing you to see what you’ll try with him, obviously with your approval.

S - Stamina Rafe can last, and he’s not quick to tire. He’s built up the ability to go hard for extended periods, and he’ll keep you busy for hours if he’s in the mood. His recovery time is long, so he makes the most of it while he’s at his peak.

T - Toys Toys are his thing, on you, not himself. He’ll edge you, tease you, or even set up punishments, loving the control it gives him. If he has an event to attend, he’ll put a remote controlled toy on you just to watch you try to keep your composure, thrilled by the power he holds.

U - Unfair Rafe’s a relentless tease and knows exactly how to push you to the limit. He’ll mock you to get his way, letting his words mess with your head until you’re practically begging. There’s nothing he loves more than watching you struggle, even if it means dragging things out.

V - Volume He’s loud, grunting, and moaning like he owns the space. Even when he’s supposed to keep it quiet, he won’t hold back. He’s unbothered by volume, getting off on knowing that people might hear him with you.

W - Wild Card Rafe loves buying you expensive lingerie, only to rip it off the second you put it on. After nearly getting kicked out of a changing room for getting handsy, he’s restricted to window shopping until he can make you show off at home.

X - X-Ray Rafe is well endowed, big enough to leave a lasting impression. Every time, he stretches you to the limit, always knowing exactly how to work you up for him, but he’s careful not to go too hard unless you’re ready for it.

Y - Yearning Rafe’s sex drive is high, and he rarely wants to wait. Even when he has work to do, he’d rather be with you, and he’ll get impatient fast if he doesn’t get to satisfy his urges.

Z - Zzz The second he’s satisfied, Rafe’s out. You’ll get a lazy arm around you, maybe even a kiss, but he’s usually fast asleep within minutes, with the barest amount of cuddling before he’s out cold.

[anjelicawrites]

Bringer of gifts

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Synopsis: expanding this head canon. Luke survives Storm’s End and gets captured later in the Dance, only to lose his eye to Aemond’s psychotic wife, who wants to give it to him as a gift.

Warnings: DDDNE, torture, eye enucleation, Rhaenyra’s sons are called ‘bastards’, Rhaenyra is called ‘a whore’, reader and Aemond are two psychos in love, talk of torture, talk of beheading, talk of murder, gore, kissing, p in v sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood licking, talk of cannibalism, talk of public sex, talk of pregnancy.

A/N: reader is AFAB but not described but for their long hair. A/N 1: since this fic is much darker than what I usually write, I'm not going to use my taglist. A/N 2: @schniiipsel you asked and I delivered, just right before Halloween!!!

You can feel the eyes of the guards burn holes as you enter the dungeons. You can imagine their thoughts and their panic because you shouldn’t be here and they can’t stop you.

“Your Highness.”

The burly man in front of you bows curtly, yet he is in your way.

“Where is he?”

You want to end your errand as quickly as possible, your stomach is already revolting against the stench of fear and pain permeating the air; you wouldn’t do this if you didn’t love your husband they way you do.

Torture is explicitly discussed and described in this fic, so is gore. Read at your own risks. Be responsible for the fiction you consume!

NSFW and 18+ only please.

You don’t expect those men to understand what is the cause behind your actions. To tell the truth, you don’t even care, you have given an order and expect it to be carried out.

“Your Highness, are you…”

You don’t even let the man finish the phrase, you stare at him with an ice cold stare that makes him stammer on his words.

“Show me the way.”

The men in front of you seem lost: should they follow your royal command? Should they politely accompany you back to your chambers?

Their commander makes the decision for them. Still looking at you with a quizzical stare he makes way and orders his men to flank you as your little group makes way through the maze that’s the dungeons of King’s Landing, your Kingsguard following suit.

You can hear the shouts of the men imprisoned, their hands emerge from between the iron bars of their prisons like a bad dream, their unwashed bodies amass themselves against them in the failed attempt to grab at you.

You don’t look at them. With your head high you march to the far end of the dungeons, where a seemingly vacant cell stands.

The guards, and the members of the Kingsguard appointed to protect you, stop and form a circle around you, effectively blocking the one, lonely prisoner, from seeing your form in the darkened corridor.

The head of the guards grabs the ring where all the keys live, the heavy metal jingle annoyingly as he selects the right one.

“He is chained to the wall, as per your request.” He tells you.

“Good. Now open the door, I will enter alone.”

“Your Highness I can’t let you do that! It’s far too dangerous!”

The man squirms under your stare.

“He poses me no threat. Do as you’re told or you will lose your head come the next dawn.”

He scrambles on his feet to obey you.

Despite the lovely way you look, and the colorful, flowery dresses you wear, it’s common knowledge in the Red Keep, that no one you should cross you or, the Gods forbid, your husband, because you will come for anyone who ever dared defying him, or yourself. You will let slide the way this man acted, because you understand this has never happened in his entire life, and he doesn’t know how to act to make you, and your husband, happy.

As the door opens on the rusty hinges, you adjust the hood hiding your face: you don’t want this very prisoner to see you immediately.

With a decisive stride you enter the cell and wait until the door closes behind you to raise your head and look at the prisoner chained to the wall.

You let the seconds fly as you look at his unkempt and disheveled state, the ruined clothes and bloody knuckles of someone who has fought hard to maintain his freedom. To have captured him was a stroke of luck from the Gods, their blessing after the death of poor Jahaerys.

The thick hood masks the smile gracing your lips when he tries to leap at you and his body falls violently against the wall, trapped by the too short chains; you have to give it to him, he’s a fighter. Not that it will help him, but it’s amusing to observe his struggle.

“Hello little bastard. Long time no see.”

Your words nail him on the spot where he’s standing: that is still an open wound, one that will accompany him for all of his life, however short it will be.

“You!”

Your smile widens when Luke’s eyes focus on your face.

He had only see you briefly during Viserys’s last dinner, when he had the gall to disrespect your husband once again, after having taken his eye all those years ago.

“Me, little bastard. I didn’t expect to meet you again. I thought your whore mother would keep her little bastard ducklings close to her chest. I suppose her desire for a throne that doesn’t belong to her is stronger than her feelings.”

“Don’t call her that!” He screams and tries to leap again with a scream of frustration when he realizes you’re too far away from him.

“I shall call her however I want. And I never lie, unlike her. Has she ever told you and your siblings who your father was? Or is she still lying to you all?”

You step closer to him, your smile darkening when you notice how his muscles strain against the sturdy chains blocking him.

“Do you know why you’re here, little bastard?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Or what? Will you take my eye the same way you did my husband? Do you know that you’re here because of her, don’t you? If she hadn’t cared about hiding who you and your siblings are, if she had issued an apology to he own brother, you wouldn’t be here. None of it would have given Aemond back his eye, but it would have been something. Instead, she cared more about committing treason, and sending her little bastards to the slaughter, than anything else.”

You can see the fat tears of frustration fall from his eyes, the marks they leave on his dirty cheeks.

“She loves us! She didn’t send us to the slaughter!”

“If you say so. Then why are you here?”

He struggles against his bindings again. You can see how desperate he is to make you eat your words, a part of you respecting how loyal he is to his mother; if only he hadn’t laughed at your husband when the pig had been served, if only he had said he was sorry. Instead he had smirked at Aemond, positive the consequences of his actions would never catch up with him; truly, he marked his destiny that night, and he didn’t even know.

“Do you know why you’re here? Why you’re not be kept in the Red Keep like the royalty you pretend to be?”

You see the answer die on his lips when you unsheathe the small dagger you hide in the arm of your dress, the one Aemond gifted you for your nameday, right after your marriage.

“Because you ran from consequences all your life, Luke, and now there’s nowhere to go anymore.”

The desperate sound of his struggles is covered by the heavy footsteps of the Kingsguard entering the cell. Your Aemond has personally chosen those men, picking the ones who will do your bidding without a second thought, who will kill, and die, for you.

Differently from the guards, they didn’t bat an eye when you told them to follow you to the dungeons and instructed them to keep the prisoner still as soon as you unsheathed your dagger.

There must be some blood of the dragon flowing through the little bastard’s veins, because four grown men are struggling with keeping him on his keens, on the filthy floor, and the fifth has almost lost a finger to his teeth when he had grabbed his chin, to make sure his head stood tall and easy to reach for you.

You have to give him that: the child is a fighter, it was sheer misfortune that his dragon had been hit, and that he had lost consciousness as soon as they both touched the ground; he would have made such a great Driftmark Lord, if only his mother had stayed in her place.

“What are you going to do?”

You can see his fear when you kneel in front of him and grab his hair.

Aemond told you it had been a matter of moments: one second he was standing over his nephews, the one after, he was on the ground, the pain on his left side blinding to the point he had feared he had lost both eyes.

What took long had been the Maesters in their desperate attempt to save his eye, only to have to scoop it out and crudely sew the cut and eyelid shut.

What hurt the most, he told you, was seeing how his own father, his own flesh and blood, didn’t punish Luke for his actions instead he had protected him and berated Aegon for a word he never said out loud.

It falls upon you, really, to try and balance the injustice the late king caused; the old man is dead and rotten, yet the fruits of his injustice are damaging you all and someone has to put a stop to it.

“Know that, even though it brings me immense joy, your mother and your grandsire could have prevented all of this. And your stepfather shouldn’t have come for Jahaerys, or any of us for the matter.”

Luke tries to squirm away from the hold of your Kingsguard. Desperately he fights the vice of your hand in his thick locks when the bite of your dagger strikes the soft skin of his cheeks.

His screams of pain are deafening in the little cell when the sharp blade starts cutting, blood spills all over your hand and explodes on your face and clothes when you arrive to the eyeball, carving it out carefully, making sure it will not burst, thus ruining your gift for your husband.

By the time you’re done with him, he’s barely alert on the dirty floor, the rich, red blood still flowing from his wounds, wetting his face.

“Call the Maesters.” You bark. “They need to make sure the bastard survives to savor the pain my husband had to live with throughout his life!”

One of the men of your Kingsguard offers you the silver plate you ordered him to carry and you gently lay the bloody eyeball on it, making sure it sits nicely on the shiny metal.

“You better hope your mother stops her folly, little bastard, or worse will come to you and your siblings.”

With that you hide yourself under your cloak again, making sure no one is capable of seeing your gift for Aemond: you don’t want his surprise to be spoiled!

You walk the hidden corridors with your protectors; after the brutal slaying of Jahaerys the number of guards had been doubled and with the King fighting for his life after the battle of Rook’s Rest, the whole Red Keep is on high alert, thus making your desire to not been seen by anyone difficult, but not impossible.

You stand in front of the chambers you share with Aemond, your men in a circle around you, so that no one can see you as you silently open the big, wooden door.

Aemond is sitting at the huge desk, the fire roaring in the heart and the candles illuminate the parchments he’s reading intently.

He’s prince regent now and feels the weight of the title after not being able to keep Aegon safe from Meleys’s flames; as much as their relationship has always been complicated, you know that his loyalty to his family overrides any of Aegon’s slights.

He raises his head as soon as the door starts opening; you can see how tired he is, the lines of worry etched on his young face; he should be sleeping, or simply relaxing as the burning logs creak and break, he can’t, not when he knows he now shoulders the responsibility to keep you all safe.

“Ābrazȳrys. Wife.” He smiles, lifting his free hand to invite you to sit by him. “How was your day?”

You walk slowly, careful not to reveal your gift too soon; only when you’re standing next to him, you speak.

“Productive, albeit messy.”

Before he can inquire any further, you let the cloak fall to the floor, revealing your bloodstained dress and face. For a brief second the purest expression of worry marks his handsome face, the fear of you being attacked blinds him to your gift. Swiftly he’s on his feet, his hands going to your face, as if to check the damage.

“None of it is mine, my love. I wanted to bring you a token of my love and I had to get my hands dirty.”

Only now he focuses on the ornate silver plate you’re still holding in your hands, and the eyeball sitting there, caked in blood with the nerves still attached like a grotesque veil.

“Is it?”

“Yes, it is.”

Aemond’s hands are trembling as he takes the plate from you and sits it on the table, on top of the parchments.

He stands still in front of you, his face an unreadable mask that breaks as soon as he grabs your flowery dress to pull you against him and kiss you, hungry and savage, all teeth and tongue as he backs you towards your shared bed, drunk on the dries taste of blood mixed with yours.

You stumble on the large gown as you blindly let him move you, your hands grabbing at him, your fingers on the small clasps and knots binding his clothes together as he tears through your bloody dress, until you’re both naked, falling on the bed, still kissing passionately.

You surface for air, your mane of hair loose on your shoulders, Aemond under you, naked and hard, the thick cords of his muscles marked by the welts sword training left on him today, his breathe coming out in harsh puffs as he stares at you as if you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen in his entire life.

You put your hands on the strong planes of his chest to find your balance, before you, slowly, start rubbing you wet core against his erection, moaning at the thickness against your swollen pearl.

“I wish you were there with me, my husband.” You pant. “I was so ready for you, his cries of pain were the best music, the fear on his face made me throb. You would have taken me in the cell, wouldn’t you? Amidst the prisoners and in front of the little bastard, showing him what he will never have.”

“Kessa! Kessa! Yes! Yes!” His hands find the meat of your hips to move you faster on his throbbing cock, your wetness against it driving him insane with lust. “Emagon nyke sir! Have me now!”

He groans under you when you keep rubbing yourself, your hands pinning him on the plush mattress, your breasts swinging in front of his face, so teasingly close to his starving mouth.

“What would have you done afterwards? When all those men knew how I sing for you.”

“Nyke would emagon taken pōja laesi hen zirȳ! gūrogon pōja ears! nyetodha pōja irosh! mērī kostan raqagon ao! I would have taken their eyes from them! Take their ears! Slit their throat! Only I can enjoy you!” He roars, deafening like a dragon.

“What about the guards? My protectors?”

“Mirre morghe. Ao sagon ñuhon! All dead. You're mine!”

The purple of his eye has turned into a bottomless pit of madness mirroring yours, the bite of his hands leaving proofs of his love for you as your nails do on his fair skin.

“I love you, Aemond.”

Your moans of pleasure reverberate against the walls, as you sink on his erection, his girth still taking the breathe away from you as his hips push inside your wet walls, until he has bottomed out, your cunt having enveloped him fully.

“You’re made for me, Aemond and I am made for you. You’re filling me perfectly.” You moan, egging him on. “I’m so full.”

With a whine you sit on him, admiring the strong planes of his body and the way his thick muscles strain against the need to push upwards and fuck you.

Slowly you start moving, gentle figures of eight that rub your pear against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, the motion makes you moan with every shockwave of pleasure; his hands on your hips help you move, guiding you to take whatever you want from him.

When you start to carefully move up and down, your hands fly to your full breasts to play with your nipples, pinching the engorged nubs the way he likes, your cunt leaving and swallowing more and more of him, until you’re riding him at a mad pace.

“I’ve never been wetter.” You moan. “I want to cut him piece by piece as you fuck me Aemond.”

Under you he babbles praises and promises, waxing poetic on the way your cunt is strangling his cock and is pulling him in; you’re drenched and hot, your combined moans deafening the squelching sounds of your combines honeys forming a ring around his base.

“There! Aemond, there!”

You scream, when his cock head finds your hidden spot, the one that makes your knees tremble and your rhythm falter, your cunt tightening around him to the point of pain, when his thumb finds your pearl to play with it fast, throwing you into the throes of your orgasm.

He follows with a howl, his stones drawn so tightly against his body as you milk him, hungry for his seed that seeps down his length as you keep riding him, until you fall sideways, spent.

You’re both spent as you two try to regain your breath, trembling in each other’s arms.

“I haven’t thanked you properly.” He says with a smile.

“I think you did.” You let a heartbeat pass between your two. “Did you truly like my gift?”

His hand is proprietary on your hip when he pulls you impossibly closer to his sweaty body.

“You did what no one ever would. I will cherish your offering for as long as I live.”

You snuggle closer, feeling his spent cock try to harden again; you know he will soon be ready, he can’t resist the spell of your body.

“Would you truly fuck me as I cut him into pieces to send to his whore mother?”

“I would do anything you ask. I can have him bought here for you to play with, if that would make you happy.”

“I don’t want him soiling our rooms. I want him to rot in the cell, where he belongs.”

“Then, I would fuck him against the bars after you’re done with him and choose together which part of him to send her.”

You let your index play with the sparse, platinum hair on his chest.

“I was thinking that we could send her another part of him as a warning: either she stops her madness, or she’ll have her son back piece by piece.”

Aemond looks at you with naked adoration.

“He’s always been her favorite.” He says, his fingers finding the mess of come between your legs and your hole ready for him. “She will bend the knee, and accept our conditions.”

You moan when his fingers breach you again and start fucking you almost lazily.

“They will all have to die.” You whimper, feeling the delicious flames of desire burn anew.

“I will personally behead Daemon.” He smiles. “What do you want to do with the bastards?”

You’re gasping against his lips, your hips following the slow, tantalizing rhythm he’s forcing you to follow.

“Can I play with them? See how long they’ll last?”

“You’ll make sure they will suffer for days. I promise you that you’ll come back to our chambers covered in blood and with my seed leaking down your legs.”

You whimper when his fingers find your spot again to massage it with intent, your muscles clamping again as your end comes barreling down.

“I will bathe you, afterwards. Make sure their stink doesn’t attach itself to you. Then, if you’ll let me, I will make love to you again, fill you with my seed.”

Your fingers are like claws, scorching the path of your need down his wide back as the band of pleasure tightens in your belly.

“Put a baby in me, Aemond. I want them to know your line will survive and theirs will not!”

His tongue attacks the dried blood on your body again, licking the ferrous taste with abandon and hunger.

“I will put as many babies in you as you’ll let me.”

“Yes! Ah, Aemond!” You whimper. “I wanna eat his heart as his whore mother watches and weeps! I wanna kill her after she’s witnessed what her betrayal to you did to her bastards!”

His fingers fuck you fast and unforgiving, the squelching sounds of your pleasure all he can hear.

“I will build you a torture chamber, where you can play, and I can fuck you as they cry and beg for mercy.”

“Yes! Yes!”

You’re delirious now, riding his fingers and scratching his back, your voice hoarse with your screams of pleasure.

You’re putty against him, happy and sated you rub your body against his.

“Do you want to go to the dungeons and pick another piece of him? As much as I love your gift, I think it would be more affecting if we were to send her his eyeball with some of his clothing.”

“Yes! I want her to suffer. I want her haunted by the knowledge that her bastard son is in danger, until she comes begging for him. I want any hopes she has burn as she sees her bastards suffer and die.”

“And she will. The Stranger will come as a relief, still, she’ll die knowing she has lost.” His eye looks haunted now. “She wanted me to be sharply questioned, when he took my eye. She’ll witnessed what that is, on each one of them.”

He’s hard as steel against your tummy, his cock head already weeping for you; you roll on your back, spreading your legs, showing him the mess you two have created when you open your outer lips for him to witness how your hole clenches in hunger.

“Fill me again, Aemond and don’t pull out. I want to feel you inside of me as we compose our message.”

“Only if you wait for me tomorrow, and let me join you in playing with your new toy.”

“Yes.” You moan as he breaches you slowly. “And if she resists, we’ll decide together which piece to cut and send.”

He twitches inside of you at the thought: the bastard is going to end up in pieces, and his mother will learn of it all too late.

[debonairprincesposts]

Lost focus (He’s too pretty)

Summary: Reader has an exam to study for and only has a few hours to cram everything in their brain. Distractions are a thing so reader decides that enlisting Jason’s help might work. It doesn’t

Words: 1.1k

Wrote this one myself. ∠(ᐛ 」∠)

Can you tell how much I like him?

This was way more challenging than you thought it would be. You had a couple of chapters left with barely enough time to complete them. If! And only if, you got your shit together, rubbed them two brain cells, and forced yourself to push through, you might succeed. You could do it if you really put your mind to it, but

You just can’t focus.

Your phone was right side up right next you, and you can’t help but glance at it every time the screen lit up.

Gasp!

You just got an amazing idea!

It might just be genius.

Maybe Jason can help.

Jason, your hubby, your guardian Angel, your strong teddy bear, your sweetheart, the love of your life, the-

Okay-

You’re getting off track. Where were you?

Oh yes! Maybe Jason can help you keep your focus.

You get off your desk, stretch a bit cuz you been on that chair since like-… Wait…., what time even is it.

You glimpsed at your clock above your door, and-

Gasp!

Holy crap!

You’ve been get distracted for over an hour!

Realizing the amount of time you just wasted daydreaming, it cemented the fact that you absolutely must get Jason to keep track of you and act as your pretty, beautiful, breathtaking, delightful, sexy-

Whoa- best to keep it family friendly.

You just need him! Period!

And so, you venture out of your room and into the harsh, chaotic environment that resides outside your door that you haven’t seen in years -ahem- a few hours.

Jason was just chillin’ on the couch in the living room reading a book that he’d been wanting to catch up on since forever, it’s a rare day off.

You arrive at the entrance of the living room and pause, your gaze wandering in search of him.

Huzzah!

Lover has been spotted!

Now to plot a dramatic entrance and maybe hope to startle him.

(You know he heard you from the moment you left your room, but you like to delude yourself into thinking that you might be able to sneak up on him)

You stomp your way into the living room and stand just a few feet away from the entrance-

He noticed you making your way in and opened his beautiful mouth with pretty soft, glossy lips that you could just bite-

Whoa- family friendly remember?

-to ask if you needed anything.

You then announce,

“Beloved! I have encountered a dilemma and require your assistance!”

Jason looks at bit surprised at your use of fancy talk then chuckles, “Sure thing, chipmunk. What do you need?”

You now lose your nerve and just revert back to normal talk, totally not because you lack the proper vocabulary to talk like a person out of a fantasy novel, definitely not.

It’s not!

Anyway!

Where were you? Ah, right. You were about to converse with this divine being you call your boyfriend, who has graced your life with his presence and brought nothing but good fortune and love, and ask for his help.

He looks at you expectantly, closing his book after bookmarking it, and waits for you to answer.

His eyes are pretty as he looks at you. Like a swirl of green in a bottomless ocean that would just absolutely drown you, from love or something else you don’t know, you don’t mind either. If he points his gun at you and shoots, you might just thank him for it.

Damn.

You’re a simp.

He’s still waiting for you to speak.

Okay! Not the time to have realizations about yourself! Concentrate!

You clear your throat, “I just need you keep track of me while I study so I don’t get distracted.” You take a deep breath to compose yourself and not drift back to thinking about how his thighs could-

WHAO!! ABORT! ABORT!

He gives you a nod to encourage you to finish what you wanted to say. Honestly, bless his heart. His patience is eternal. Especially if he has to deal with you. A million topics at a time with no momentary focus whatsoever.

You take another deep breath, “I’m getting really distracted and really need you to keep me focused and just watch me to make sure I get things done. Can you help me?” You look down as you fiddle with the strings of your hoodie. Why is it so embarrassing to ask for his help. Maybe cuz it feels like a godly creation such as himself shouldn’t be doing dumb things just to appease a feeble mortal like you. How you bagged someone like him is beyond you.

“Sure, chipmunk. I don’t mind.” He smiled. Oh, my god. It’s too bright. You stare. You think you’re getting blinded by how brightly he shines.

What’s that noise?

Oh, he’s snapping his fingers in front of your face. He looks concerned. Oh no. You made Angel upset. Damnit! Think fast!

“Sweetheart?” He asks, “You with me?” He’s slightly frowning in worry. The light from the living room window highlights his hair and makes his high cheekbones more pronounced. His hair looks really shiny and fluffy too. You just wanna touch it.

So you do.

You reach out a hand towards his head as he looks at you with concern mixed in with confusion. You run your fingers through his hair, you then start petting it.

Mmm. Fluffy.

Realization makes its way across his face. He snorts, then lets out a short laugh. If that’s the last sound you hear before you die, then you can die happy. “Is that why you wanted me to help?” He smirks, “Can’t keep track of your attention?” He’s not pulling away, so you guess he’s enjoying your little pets.

“Uhh,” how dignified, “Yeah, n-no. I can’t.”

He smiles again at your stutter, you’re so cute. His smile seems brighter than your future, your heart might just give out at this point, “Alright. Let’s get you back to studying, yeah?”

He gives a kiss on the forehead before he turns you around, gently grabs you by your shoulders, and starts walking you back to your room.

As you enter, he nudges you towards your desk while he takes a seat on your bed.

He claps twice, “Chop chop, Chipmunk! Time to focus.” He then brings out a different book outta nowhere. Where was he hiding that? “I’ll be right here the whole time. Time to get to it, sweets.”

You nod in determination while give him a salute. He chuckles at your response as he lays back on your pillows while you turn back to your desk to try and get things done.

…..

You can hear him slowly breathing on your bed, the rustling noises that his clothes make when he moves to adjust himself, the flip of the paper from the book he’s reading. You took a glimpse at him from your peripherals. He looks ethereal in his fitted shirt and baggy sweatpants.

Yeah, you’re definitely failing your exam.

I think I have adhd…..

[cmdrfupa]

You sat on the edge of the bed, tugging on your socks as the morning sounds kept you awake. An unusually early Saturday morning for the both of you as Toji hummed in the bathroom while you got the last of a large yawn out.

The sunlight slanted in through the half-open blinds and the early chill to the day filled your bedroom as you moseyed to browsed over what to wear in the closet.

In the bathroom with the door cracked open, Toji’s rich, gravelly voice drifted out over the soft hum of the electric razor.

“Gonna be a long day,” he says, the razor going silent as he rinses his face. “That realtor said we’ll see, what… four or five places?”

“Four.” You glance over a skirt and hold it up to you, contemplating before looking in the mirror hanging on the wall. “But you know how it goes. If we don’t find something, we have time. Housing market should remain stable for another 6 months. There’s no rush.”

“Right. But if we don’t start wrapping things up, Megumi’ll be in college and Tsumiki’ll be visiting with a grandkid before we settle anywhere.” He lets out a low chuckle, warm and amused.

It didn’t register just how much time had passed until Toji realized he’d hit the goal amount to buy a house. 3 years of playing house and marrying turned into being worried about if a house will have proper irrigation systems that will last.

There’s a brief clatter, then the faucet comes on full blast as he rinses off the last of the shaving cream. “Speaking of which, you ready for those college visits?”

You laugh, slipping on your blouse and buttoning it up. “Ready, yes. Prepared? Not a chance. You know he wants to tour every campus in this province and a few overseas. He’s keeping you on your toes.”

“Kid’s got ambition,” Toji says, amusement lacing his voice. “Wonder where he gets it from.”

You can picture him leaning forward to scrutinize himself in the mirror, the way he sometimes squints as he checks for stray stubble along his jaw. Groaning at the small patch of gray he shaves off first every single time.

It’s one of those everyday scenes you never quite get tired of. He’s steady, predictable in his habits, but there’s an ease in the familiarity.

“So, what’s the dream house, huh?” he asks after a pause. There’s a hint of something lighter in his tone, playful almost. “Big yard for maybe another kid to practice in, good schools, fancy kitchen for you?”

“A quiet neighborhood would be nice.” you say, tugging on your jeans. “And, yeah��� I wouldn’t mind a spacious kitchen.”

Toji snorts, as the idea of him caring about school districts is somehow amusing. “Skipping over the yard part? Come on, what’s one more kid? A little mini me running around. Would be nice.”

You laughed grabbing your belt, pulling it through the loops as you stepped out in the bedroom. “Let’s get the house first. Then we can discuss having a kid with your big head and features. Sound good?”

“Guess we’re going full domesticated life now, huh? Yard sales on Sundays? Book club on Tuesdays? Starting to think you’re losing your touch, pretty lady.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes even though he can’t see it. “You’d love it. Don’t even pretend.”

A beat later, Toji steps out into the bedroom, adjusting the collar of his dark red polo. The sleeves were fitted just enough to hint at the broadness of his shoulders, the solid strength of his arms bulging. The deep red complemented his dark hair perfectly. His khakis hug his waist and tapered down, showing off the powerful lines of his legs and the definition there—he looks effortlessly good, a little rugged but undeniably refined.

He catches you looking, his lips curving into a sly, knowing grin. “Like what you see?”

“Your ass.. Jesus,” you tease back, though your eyes are unabashedly admiring. The camel colored pants fit him like a glove. The way they accentuated his thighs made you want to scream. “Since when do you go for khakis?”

“Hey, I clean up nice.” He closes the distance between you in two easy strides, dropping a casual hand on your shoulder. He gives a slight squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your arm.” I bought them from that wholesale store. You know the one with the family size peanut butter?”

“The one that you single handedly empty out for your thick ass smoothies?”

“That’s the one.” Toji squeezes your rear and winks. “Anyway, figured I’d match the high standards. Realtors are probably used to dealing with rich types. Gotta look the part, right?”

“Eh. If nothing else, you’ll charm them into knocking down the price.”

He chuckles, bending down just enough to press a quick, lingering kiss to your forehead then your lips.” I’m starting to think you married me for my looks and devilish charm.”

“For the last time, Toji,” you gently wiped his chest, loosening the wrinkles before. “Yes. I did.”

He picked you up with ease, laughing as he wrapped your legs around him. “You’re unbelievable. And I thought you loved me.” Toji laid you on the bed, kissing your neck and holding your waist letting your pleas and laughter warm him up inside. “Am I just a scary dog and eye candy for you?” He teased.

“You’re much more than that. Great support system, incredible cook, inhumanely patient.” You ran your fingers over the nape of his neck as he hovered over you. “Hefty wallet when you aren’t losing during horse racing season.”

“I don’t lose often… anymore.” His lips curled into a boyish smile as he helped you sit up on the edge of the bed. He grabbed your shoes, lacing them on you before helping you stand. “Now. Let’s go get your dream house, baby doll. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Let’s go get it, baby boy.”

There was always something grounding about the routines you had together. Those quiet moments where you planned for the future with the same unhurried certainty that he shaves with, that he presses his lips to your skin with.

The thought of the three of you wandering through endless corridors of empty houses, each one holding the promise of a new start, filled you with a gentle anticipation.

And no matter where you ended up, it was always going to feel home if you had one another.

[georgiapeach30513]

My Worth In Blood

Summary: If he catches you, he gets to keep you.

Pairings: Vampire!Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, chase kink, teasing, blood kink, unprotected sex, PIV sex, minor breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.9K

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Inhale. Long, slow, and drawn out. Exhale.

Breathe in, “Mmm.”

Delectable.

Ransom’s piercing cool blue eyes scan into the dusky night. Who is that? He runs a tongue over his razor sharp teeth. Moving the muscle over it before he pierces his tongue. He inhales the intoxicating aroma of you again. You smell divine. Heavenly. But where are you?

Taking a few steps, he scents you again. He can already taste you on his lips, and pouring down his throat. His eyes nearly glow as he finds the pathway to you. Pupils immediately dilating when he sees you. Alone, minding your business, and reading a book at a cafe. Oblivious to the noise and hustle of the city. Your foot taps a steady rhythm on the table leg, and you flip a page of your book.

Lifting your mug to your lips, he smells your body’s beautiful scent mixing with the aroma of chai tea latte. His vision zones in on the pulse on your neck. Your body is heating up. Your chest heaves a bit more than the other patrons at the cafe. Heart beating so much faster. Your mouth opens as you inhale sharply. You’re fucking aroused. So heated over whatever you’re reading he smells your honey, and can already taste you.

He shakes himself out of his stupor, smiling as he walks over to you. You’re so caught up in the book you don’t even pay him any mind, so he sits down in the chair in front of you. My gods, your neck is a work of art. Pristine, and blemish free. Perfect for his bite. You don’t care about him, or the fact that he can feel your temperature raise. What has got you so turned on? What is it that makes you feel so — flustered?

He clears his throat, watching as you finish your page before closing your book, “I’m not moving. There’s other tables you can sit at,” and you lift your book up again.

“What are you reading?”

“Not into small talk,” you chide, trying to read despite his inquiries.

“Little Stranger?” Ge looks at the blackened book in your hands with a smile. It looks almost sinister.

“Mmm,” you respond. You weren’t going to finish this book if he didn’t stop talking. You want to roll your eyes. You want to show him just how annoyed you are, but you continue along your merry way. Enjoying each line despite the intruder.

“What’s it about?”

You roll your eyes up to look at him over the book, and finally you see him. He’s dangerous. You didn’t know who he was, or anything about him, but danger radiates off his pale skin. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness with how bright they are. You want to look away, and can’t. He smiles the most devilish handsome smile, and you need to melt into yourself.

“Don’t do that,” you demand of him.

“Do what?” He’s an arrogant thing. His mouth curls up into a grin that would have girls losing their panties immediately. But you sense the danger.

“Whatever you’re doing,” his head cocks to the side in a question, looking like an innocent pup instead of the predator you know he is, and it makes you you gulp. You don’t miss the way his hungry eyes go to your mouth, and then your neck. Nostrils flaring when he notices your pulse, “Stop it.”

“What exactly am I doing?” He’s a tease.

“You’re fucking me with your eyes,” his boisterous laugh startles you, but it’s not a bad sound. It’s musical. “You know what you’re doing.”

“My sweet little mouse,” that nickname? Why would he use that one? He isn’t allowed to make you feel weaker than you already are. And ‘my’? He’s already claiming you as his. Are you in a book? Is your fantasies coming to life right before your eyes. “Trust me, if I was fucking you, you’d know.”

“I said with your eyes,” his brows lower as he stares at you. Staring right into your soul. No, your core, sensing the heat and slick pooling in your paties. You whimper. Heat courses through your body, and you feel it tingle all the way to your toes. Your body suddenly has two heartbeats, and one is making you double over. “Stop!”

The feeling immediately quits, and you gape at him. “What are you doing?”

“Judging by the swelling of your lips, the dilated eyes, and the scent coming from between your thighs, you know exactly what I’m doing,” you press your fingers on your mouth. Running the pads of the digits over your lips. He’s lying. “Little mouse, I didn’t mean the lips on your face.”

“You pervert!” He chuckles again, and you lay your book on the table. Crossing your arms over your chest, and he reaches for the book. “Stop! Don’t read that, it’s private!”

Randomly the strange man opens your book, stopping where you last let off. His mouth quirks up with each line. His eyes move unnaturally quickly over the words. “I don’t think I’m the one that’s a pervert,” he chuckles, and then clears his throat. The man looks at you, while he closes the book. Clearing his throat, “Has anyone ever told you how delectable you smell?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you cross too many boundaries?”

“Has anyone ever told you how your heart rate spikes when you read your filthy smut?” You gawk at him. The audacity. “You’re reading this out in public. Is that part of the turn on?” You didn’t have to answer that. You’re enjoying yourself reading. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s quite a turn on for me that I could smell your arousal across the street, and all because you were reading that,” you clear your throat.

He isn’t a bad looking man. He’s actually — beautiful in an otherworldly kind of way. What he’s saying is embarrassing, and enthralling all at the same time. The man picks your book up again, and starts flipping through the pages. “You don’t lack many pages. Mmm,” his nostrils flare, and his jaw tightens. The man adjusts his sitting, and his pants.

“You’re uncomfortable with my book?”

“No,” gulping, you look down at your cup. You wonder exactly what he is reading, and why a stranger is making you feel things deep in the pit of your stomach that you can’t explain. It is completely animalistic, and you don’t want to fight it. What are you thinking? This isn’t fiction. This is real life, and he’s a real man. “I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“A man,” he is all man. You can see that clearly. “Nor am I turned off by this. This brother is a menace. Why is he putting blood on his sister?”

“Concerned about the blood and not the fact they’re siblings?” His nose curls up a bit. An intimidating man, looking adorable. He flips a few pages before glaring at you, “They’re not actually siblings.”

“Let’s go for a walk,” he doesn’t even ask. He grabs your book, and holds out a hand for you. “I won’t bite. Hard anyways,” so corny. And yet, you still give him your hand. Gulping as his eyes scan over your entire body when you stand in front of him, “Immaculate.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr.?”

“Ransom,” it’s a fitting dark name for him. “Don’t ever call me Mr. Drysdale,” lifting your hand, he takes a long whiff before pressing his pillowy lips on your chilled hand, “What are you?” Those eyes flit back and forth across your face. “You’re like no human I’ve ever smelled.”

“You’re strange.”

“And there’s more to you than meets the eye, little mouse,” you roll your eyes, going to lead the way to somewhere, when Ransom looks up at the name of the cafe, “Coven Cafe, servicing wicked brews, enchanted espressos, and potions all to you from a mystic mug?”

“Is there a problem?” You moan as he pulls you into his marble hard body, and he sniffs up your neck. His tongue flicks out onto your skin, and he licks you, “Are you as impressed as I am that after all these years, you found me?”

“You bitch.”

“Witch,” giggling, you push Ransom away from you. “And yet, you can’t get my scent out of your silly little vamp mind,” his eyes set afire. Glaring at you while your lips turn up into a devious smile. “You think you finally deserve to bite me? To feast on me? Go on, you can bite me if you want to,” pouting up at him, you bat your lashes, “I like it.”

His eyes flutter close, and you take it as an opportunity to run. He could outrun you with his eyes closed, so any head start would have to do. Sprinting to the nearby woods. He can track you. He probably enjoys that even more. Cackling the moment you get into the trees, you begin to peel off parts of your clothes.

Leaving him a trail of discarded pieces of you. Letting him know just how undressed you are. Teasing him as you run away. Whore of a vampire. You are no fool to Ransom, and what it is he wants, and you’re willing to give it to him. Even for just one night. You’d become his obsession, while he became your ultimate prize. He could deny it. He could say that witches and vampires are mortal enemies. But Ransom has dreamed of a taste from you for too many years. You made sure of that.

“Where are you?” His voice echoes into the night, and you can’t help but to laugh again. Letting your voice ring out into the night.

“Use your vampire made senses. Find me. Claim me. And you can finally taste me,” you duck into a thicket. Your eyes looking into the dark for a sign of one of nature’s ultimate predators. Waiting on him like you’re his prey. And you want to be. You want him to pounce. The stamina of a vampire is said to be unmatched. And you want to test out that theory.

Quieting your breathing, you hear crunching of the leaves, and it’s not the pretty creature of the night. The woods come alive, altering your senses, and you have a deep urge to flee. You don’t want to. You need him to catch you. But there’s too much movement all around you. His presence wakes up the woods. They all want to get away from him.

“Run,” a voice whispers against your back, and you bolt. He chortles. He’s only letting you get ahead because he loves the chase. Loves the adrenaline rush right to his groin. Loves the way that you smell when you’re scared. Those muffled little snickers tickle on your skin, letting you know just how close he is to you.

All he has to do is reach out, “Got you. Now,” he pushes your body up against his own. Grinding his hips into your ass. “It’s a bit cliche to have a witch running through the woods naked on a full moon, isn’t it?”

“Better make it quick. We might not be the only creatures of the night out here,” he thrusts himself forward, grinning when you whimper.

“Think you can handle that much?” Pressing his bulge up against your ass, you get weaker with every rub against you.

“Oh, baby, I’ve been on my knees while a werewolf tried to mate with me. You think your little cock is going to be enough?” His fangs snap out, and you gasp. “Do it,” whining as a fang runs softly against your skin. “I dare you,” your knees buckle, and you mewl as he pierces your skin.

His hips still dry hump you. A free hand roams down your body until he sinks between your velvety lips. “My gods, you’re leaking,” his fangs retreat back in, and you spin around to glare at him. “Oh shut up, you needy little bitch. Are you trying to mate with every creature out there? I’m a vampire. I don’t procreate.”

“Did you ever think that was the appeal?” Ransom rolls his eyes, but calmly starts to remove his clothes. “Able to fuck all day with no consequence. You could spill in my cunt, and never sire a child. And…”

“Did you really let a filthy mutt mount you?” The disgust on his face is evident. It makes you giddy knowing you can get under his skin so easily.

“Why?”

“I don’t much care for sloppy seconds,” pulling his pants down, his cock springs free, and you nearly drool at the sight. A rock hard rod, looking more like marble than flesh. “Are you a whore?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Oooh!” He picks you up without any preamble. Both his hands gripping a thigh as he spreads you out wide, and lifts you up to his face. “What are you doing?” You screech, and he sniffs you.

“Staring at your cunt.”

“Why?”

“Have you actually taken a mutt?”

The one thing that would offend Ransom, and you said it just to get a reaction. Typical. “No. Even I have standards,” he starts lowering your body, gazing up at your eyes that are pitch black with sinful lust. “You gonna fuck me?”

“I’m gonna fuck, and claim you,” lowering you further, he impales you on his cock, and you screech. His pulsing member stretches you out in such a state that you can’t even see straight. Giving you no time to adjust to him, he uses your body like a cocksleeve. Lifting you up and stabbing into you over and over again. Wanting you to feel every blinding pleasure throughout your body.

You’ve fucked other creatures, but never a vampire. Their skin is a crawling frost, but the speed at which he moves is enough to make your toes curl. The friction heats you up, even if his body can’t. “Gods, you are a pretty little witch. Too bad I can’t fuck my spawn into you.”

“Shut up with the breeding kink. You can’t deliver,” Ransom growls. It isn’t humane, it’s feral. He leans forward, biting onto your neck, while your body crashes into him. You’d heard of such highs as a vampire feasting on you during sex, but you weren’t prepared for this. This is heavenly. Setting your soul and skin on fire.

It’s like feeling your pleasure, but also his own. His passion. The way you feel to him. It’s beyond just orgasmic, you are giving him sustenance. You’re giving him air to breathe. To survive. “My gods,” he pulls off your neck, crimson drips from his lips, and he licks it off, savoring the taste of you. “What are you?”

“A powerful witch,” moaning, when he makes you take every inch of his veiny cock. Settling you over him balls deep Holding you still while he looks over your face. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Witch’s got my cock,” you snort, and he pulls you off him, only to slam you back over his length. “Bind yourself to me,” he demands. Vampires have been known to be cocky.

“Absolutely not,” his brow quirks up. This time he pulls himself out of you slowly before he rails back into you. “You’re amazing with that magic wand of yours, but I will never bind myself to you without a cost.”

“And what’s that cost?”

His eyes look at your open wound before he leans forward. His tongue flattens against your skin, and he pulls it up your neck. Sealing up the wounds. Returning to look at you. “Bind yourself to me,” Ransom scoffs. “It’s only fair. You have a blood bank, and my powers.”

“And what do you have, my little mouse?”

“You,” he settles your legs around his waist. Turning to place your back against a tree. “I know you’ve been searching for me. But you enjoy the chase too much to just let you have me. Now you do. Now take me, and become mine.”

“We barely know each other.”

“You thought differently when it was just me binding myself to you. We’ve known each other for decades,” he shakes his head, smiling, and you lift the veil. Memories of him following your scent. Getting almost close enough, before you enchanted him. Engraining your essence into him. “You’ve always wanted me. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

His mouth turns into a grin before he slams into your own mouth. Tasting yourself mingling with his sweet decadent being. His hips thrust into you with so much force that your back edges up and down on the tree. So much stimulation for so early in the night. He’s yours. He. Is. Yours.

With the force he’s pushing into you, you’ll be bruised. You can take it. You can take everything this beautiful vampire gives you. Everything. He’s yours. You were made for him. You can take it.

“You’ll take everything I give you,” Ransom rares back. Panting as he whispers on your lips. “All of it.”

“Every last drop,” you respond as his teeth pierce the other side of your neck, and your body comes undone. Euphoria settles throughout you. Sealing your fate with him forever. “Forever.”

Yours.

“Mine,” he growls onto your body. And lightning courses through your blood. He feels it. He feels it all. He feels you. “All. Mine.”

Next

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[wholoveseggs]

How I look camping ⛺️ your page everyday waiting for you to post… like your writing is so good and I’m so obsessed with it. 💜 But about Kol and I guess the other Mikaelson boys (minus Finn),, they’re all scary in their own ways.

With Klaus he’s scary because of his rage and his plans,, you can immediately tell when he’s angry because he makes it known through his throwing things and shouting.

For Elijah, he’s calm and collected and that’s what makes him scary, you don’t know how he’s truly feeling or going to react because he hides it so well. I don’t remember the exact scene but it was in the originals I believe where you could like see the rage on his rage and that too is scary because he’s so angry in that moment that he isn’t even attempting to hide that rage.

For Kol (my love), he’s a wild card, a loose cannon. He can be violent but he can also be gentle as seen with his relationship with Davina. I just think his personality is so fun and intriguing. There is absolutely no reason for a vampire, an original at that to be using a baseball to beat people but he does just because he can?? does this make me crazy?? maybe a bit?

a common misconception i see a lot is when Kol is undaggered and Klaus backs away from him. this is for two reasons… yes, i believe Klaus was nervous of Kol being awake again because he knows his brother is a loose cannon but also because it meant that the others were likely awake as well and perhaps he could fight one of them but he definitely couldn’t find all of them at once.

no matter though because both Kol and Klaus can admit that Elijah is the “scariest” so your love wins that contest~ 💜

Hello again darling camping anon! I have so much to say on this subject.... like SO MUCH. So buckle up.

I think the fundamental difference between the three of them is how they react to and experience control. It's simultaneously an emotion, a situation and a choice. And something that all three of them couldn't really have growing up.

They are all victims of domestic violence, and each one is dealing with it differently. (And not in a healthy way at allllllllll. They absolutely continue the cycle of abuse...)

First we have Klaus, (The iconic little shit that he is)

He clings to control like a lifeline. Being the most helpless as a boy, he has always felt that if he was stronger, had more power, he could keep those around him safe. He believes that the only way he can feel safe is if he's in control. So, in his mind, any time someone takes that from him, they are actively trying to harm him. He will fight for control over everything and anything. His family, his city, his art and (most importantly) his life. His need to control the narrative around him and keep his secrets, is born out of the trauma and fear that his father instilled in him. His rage is born out of his own sense of helplessness.

Joseph Morgan does an excellent job of conveying that pain. Klaus is always a bundle of anxiety and panic and fear, no matter how he's acting. He's hyper vigilant and constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for someone or something to try and control him again. It's why he clings so desperately to control, because he never wants to be made a victim again.

Second we have Elijah, born after the loss of Freya. I've always viewed him as a tragic character, who seems to be nobody's favorite in the family, but also the glue that holds them together. He's burdened with being the adult in the room. I can imagine that Esther's grief and guilt around losing Freya sort of imprinted on to him. She probably saw him as a replacement for the daughter she lost, putting all this pressure on him to be perfect, while simultaneously giving him no agency to be his own person. His entire childhood was spent either protecting his siblings or taking care of his mother's emotional needs. (This also applies to Finn, who i'll talk about later)

His relationship with control is nearly equal to Klaus'. He's always been a peacemaker, the level headed, calm brother. Always trying to bring harmony between his siblings. And while he has a much different way of expressing his feelings, he is a victim of the same violence that the rest are.

But, what makes him the scariest is the fact that his anger is silent. Elijah doesn't show his emotions, he represses them. And then when his control snaps, it's like a damn bursting. You don't see it coming, because he's so good at hiding his anger (& all of his other feelings). But when it's there, you feel it. And it's terrifying. Because his anger is fueled by pain and a lifetime of having to be strong. It's a glimpse at a deep well of pain that you realize he has been hiding all along.

Daniel Gillies absolutely nails this simmering rage with his eyes. Somehow that man can convey every single emotion without saying a word. When he looks at his family, or a person he cares for, there is this warmth and kindness. But when he looks at a person he is angry at, a person who has hurt someone he cares about, you can see the light almost dim, and his eyes will become cold and dark. You can feel the danger and rage in them. It's a delight to watch.

Third we have Kol, who is a complicated and messy character. Kol was born into a family that already had a system and a hierarchy, and he was pushed aside and ignored. Nobody's favorite, nobody's first choice. He grew up angry and frustrated, feeling unloved and unheard. He looks to his older brothers and their relationship with control, and takes the proverbial baseball bat to it. If they couldn't love him the way he needed them to, then he would make sure that they would at least remember him. So he becomes the black sheep, the outcast. He's wild and chaotic, doing whatever he can to get attention. He doesn't really care about control, because he never had any growing up. I have always viewed his bloodlust as an allegory for addiction. His response to the violence of his youth is to numb the pain with the rush of adrenaline and power. To take from others what was taken away from him.

His rage is the loudest and the quickest to come to the surface. He's not one to stew, he's quick to fight and fast to burn. Which is why his relationship with Davina is so good for him. She loves him the way he needs, and rightfully calls out his bad behavior. As gross as it sounds, she's kind of the mother figure that his actual mother never was. (IM SORRY I KNOW ITS VERY FREUD OF ME .... BUT AM I WRONG????)

I'm not going to bash any acting... But I think Daniel Sharman captures Kol much better. His complicated relationship with death, control and magic is portrayed beautifully. Especially the scene where he is dancing with Davina before he dies. It shows real growth on his part, no longer the baby brother, no longer the victim and the victimizer. In that moment he's the protector, trying to shield his girl from grief. And it always makes me tear up ...

(This scene always makes me laugh, I truly believe Elijah is the funniest character)

And last, we have Finn. Who I love to make the butt of the joke here on this blog. But I do have a few things to say about his character.... Which is.... He isn't really a character. But an object.

They drag the poor man out to show the audience what bad thing can happen to an original. First with his death in TVD, teaching everyone about the white oak stake and sirelines. Second in TOG with Lucians deadly bite. He's just... Not written to be liked.. and it's never really explained why they kept him daggered for 900 years.

And with Finn... there is no control or lack thereof, because he has no agency. And his rage comes from the fact that he is a man out of time, with no one who cares about him.. And it makes his character all the more sad and pathetic.

They make him this bitter, angry villain. Trying to kill his niece, and they never justify exactly why. I think fear of Dahlia is a piss poor excuse. I would rather he lean into revenge for being daggered than trying to hold onto his righteous nonsense.

(But lets be so real here... its because the writers didn't want to give him any depth. They didn't want us to get overly attached, so they could use him as a low-stakes original vampire that demonstrates the actual deadliness of a weapon or person)

But!!!! Yusuf Gatewood is the absolute GOAT and his portrayal of Finn and his rage is just delicious. He almost reminds me of like a rabid preacher, the way he spits out his hatred and bitterness. But it's so fun and I enjoy it every time.

Anyways.... Sorry to hijack your message lol.. I just love to psychoanalyze crazy fictional men!

[redfoxwritesstuff]

What's This? (Hazbin Lucifer x Fallen!Reader)

CW: Cock ring, overstimulation, pleasure Dom undertones, wings, Luci a bit in his feels, Begging, praise, multiple orgasms Rating: Adult Summary: Lucifer's lover, a newly fallen Angel continues her exploration of sinful pleasure as Lucifer teaches her what the cockring she found in his nightstand is for.

“There’s some oil in my nightstand,” Lucifer said, wings fluttering as you ran your fingers through the plumage. 

“Will I have to start using it too?” you asked, fluttering your wings, now starting to look closer to charcoal than ash as you slipped off the edge of the bed. 

“Probably. Such a crap thing to lose your oil glands for falling.” Lucifer tried to keep his voice cheery, masking the look of sadness that crossed his face. You fell for him, rather literally, and having to use supplemental oil to maintain your feathers was just one more change your body would go through as a result. 

He hated it. He hated what loving him cost you. What he hated most of all was that he couldn’t make himself pick up the phone, call up top and arrange to send you back. He loved you too damn much. 

“What’s this?” you asked, drawing Lucifer’s eyes to where you had been rummaging through his drawer. In one hand was the bottle of oil and in the other was a small black ring. He watched for a moment as you stretched it between two fingers before looking at him. 

A golden blush was high on Lucifer’s cheeks as he indulged in your innocent wonder. He had shown you so much over the last few weeks, and yet you still had so much to learn.

“It’s a… cock ring.” 

Your eyes widened at the words, and for a moment he thought perhaps you knew what that was. “Jewelry? For your…?” 

He laughed, standing from the bed. All six of his wings fluttered as he settled the feathers into place while he walked over to you. “It could be, if it was a nicer one. This one- it’s all function though. Not much to look at.” 

“I don’t… function?” You blinked those wide, still so innocent eyes at him. They were so beautiful, even as they darkened from the crystalline color they had been while your sins took root. 

“It ah-” Lucifer chuckled. “It makes it so a penis is harder and stays hard for longer.” 

“Oh,” you looked between him and the rubber ring in your hand, “But you don’t… need help with… with that.” It was your turn to be flushed, gold rising high in your cheeks. 

“Not right now, no.” Lucifer laughed, “But it can be fun for really, really long encounters.” For a moment, silence settled over the pair of new lovers. “Do you want to see?” 

He was already unbuckling his pants. You looked at him with those wide, beautiful eyes he loved so much, taking in the way his cock already strained against the front of his pants. 

“You can’t be serious.” You shifted, rubbing your thighs together under the simple robe you wore. “We just made love a few hours ago.” 

“Exactly,” Lucifer laughed as he pushed past the risk of being rejected, eyeing where your legs met under the fabric of the robe, knowing it was his seed that still dampened your folds. “What better way to show off what this baby can do?” 

You looked away in a panic as his pants fell around his ankles, cock springing free as he took the ring from your fingers. While the differences between the male form and the female still made you blush, you couldn’t help curiosity. 

You watched as his cock grew harder in his hand. He easily stretched the black ring and slipped it over his length, feeding it down. It snapped slightly as he let it off his fingers, drawing a high moan from the devil. 

“Does it feel good?” You asked as the plastic dug into the base of his shaft, squeezing him. 

“It does,” Lucifer’s hips bucked as you reached out, soft fingers caressing the head of his cock. The whole of his cock was beginning to turn a golden hue. “It will feel even better when I’m inside you.” 

“How?” You asked as he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your jaw. 

“Blood goes in,” he said, grinding his cock into her hip. “but it doesn’t come out as much. Makes it bigger. More sensitive. Makes it harder to finish, too.” 

“Oh,” you whispered, distracted by his lips on your neck and the feeling of his hand running through your feathers. When had he untied your robe? You lost track of his hands as he pressed his naked body against yours, warm skin against skin. 

He laid you back on the bed, crawling up over you. There was a moment where he hovered, just looking down at you with the softest eyes. “I love you,” he whispered, leaning down and kissing you sweetly.

“I love you, too.” You answered as he nestled the head of his cock between your slick folds. 

“Always ready for me,” Lucifer whispered, finding your arousal and mingled with the remains of his seed, allowing him to slip the head of his cock into your waiting opening without effort. He sighed as wet warmth surrounded him, sinking deeper into you. “It’s like coming home.” 

“You are home,” you sighed, back arching as he filled you slowly. He was thick on his own, but you could feel the added girth as your walls, already relaxed and stretched from earlier lovemaking, were pushed wider. 

Lips found lips as he worked deeper into you. Strong hands ran over your sides, taking in the feel of you as he softly thrust into you. Each push and pull of his cock through your walls had you gasping, still sensitive from the prior encounter. 

You ran your hands up his chest. Every feel of his muscles twitch and bunch made heat rise in your chest, threatening to burn you alive. His strong shoulders strained under your fingers as he angled his hips, ensuring his cock dragged against your clit with each soft thrust. 

“So warm,” he whispered into the kiss as your fingers ran through the feathers of his upper set of wings, getting lost in the thick down undercoat. “So beautiful.” 

Your orgasm snuck up on you, a soft wave that crested without a buildup or fanfare. Tired walls clenched and flexed as the length of his cock continued its steady push and pull through you. 

“Luci.” A gasping moan of his name fell from your lips. 

He had never had strong opinions on his name; it was simply what he had been called for eons. He was Lucifer, the Morningstar. The first. The best. The fallen. 

But hearing it fall from your lips in the heat of passion, he loved the sound of his name then. It was sweet music to his ears. Never did he want to stop hearing you say it. 

He had loved and lost before. Loving again terrified him, but for you, he would risk it. If it meant he could hear you sigh his name as your body clenched around his cock, he would risk it. If it meant he was the one giving you such pleasure, he would risk it. 

Your fingers ran up the back of his head, carding through blond hair that had once been ever so perfectly arranged. At some point, he hid his face in your shoulder as he thrust you through your orgasm, lost in his thoughts and the pleasure of your body. 

He pushed an arm under your back, holding you to him as he rolled off your body. You hooked your leg over his, running your calf up his leg as he continued his lazy thrusts. He would fuck you proper, he fully intended to, but right this second he was lost in the sea of lovemaking. His hips rocked with the waves, thrusting into you as he pulled your thigh higher, gripping it against his hip. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” Lucifer said, shifting slightly so he could run his other hand through the plush feathers of your wings. 

You looked at him as if he hung the very stars in the sky. He did, but that didn’t change the way his heart swelled with the admiration and love in your eyes. When you looked at him like that, he forgot the anxiety and doubt, if only for a little while. The way you looked at him made him feel like that man who had wielded the divine power of creation, building everything there ever was and would be at the whim of his father. 

He thrust into you, pulling your hip to meet his with each soft roll. Your arm wound around his, fingers digging into his feathers just as he worked his fingers into the plumage of yours. The steady beat of his heart under the hand you rested on his pale chest drew you closer, eyes locked on his. 

He moaned into the soft kiss, reveling in the feeling of your hands on him. It had been so long since he had someone to hold, someone who wanted to hold him. Even in the last few years of his marriage, Lilith didn’t hold him, even when they made love- no, there was no love then, it was just fucking. That’s why he had the rings, after all, so he could stay hard long enough to do the job for someone that so clearly didn’t love him anymore, who couldn’t love him when he couldn’t love himself. 

You eagerly touched him. There wasn’t a moment when you were not running your hands over him, passing touches, fingers threaded through fingers, soft kisses. He bathed in a sea of lingering touches, something he had needed for so long and been afraid to ask for. 

You ran your hand up his chest, fingers caressing his neck as they wrapped behind it, pulling him in. It wasn’t possible to hold one another closer as he continued to rock his hips into you, sliding his cock in and out of you at a slow pace that didn’t fail to build a fire in you but that didn’t stop either of you from trying. 

Your fingers ran through his hair and his feathers, carding the strong flight feathers and digging into the plush down feathers. He moaned, doing the same to your wings. Whispered words of love were swallowed as he pushed you forward, thrusting his cock through your walls. 

“Lu-luci,” you moaned, back arching as he tugged your feathers. Lips worked on your neck as he brought you closer to another orgasm. 

It didn’t seem possible, but his constructed, swollen cock pushed into you just right. His tail wrapped around your thigh, pointed spade tip caressing higher and higher. You jumped as he softly swatted your ass with it, not enough to do anything more hint at a sting. 

“I can’t,” you gasped as he palmed your breast, eagerly feeling every part of you. “Luci, I can’t.” 

“You can,” he whispered, lips moving against your shoulder as he lightly pinched your nipple. “You can, and then we’ll keep going. With this on me, I can keep going.” 

“Fuck,” you swore, such an uncharacteristic word to drop from your pretty lips as he shoved you into another orgasm. 

“Good girl,” he whispered, eyes focused on your face. He thrust through your convulsing walls, letting you ride your orgasm out on his cock. “You’re so beautiful,” he praised. “I could never have made something as beautiful as you.”

“No more,” you begged, tears sparkling in the corners of your eyes. “I can’t, I’m so sensitive.” 

Lucifer kissed you again as you squirmed out of his arms. Wide eyes looked at him, cock flushed bright gold in contrast to the black ring around the base, throbbing with each beat of his heart. 

“I can’t.” 

Lucifer stood, wrapping you in his arms as you rose on trembling legs. “You can,” he whispered before kissing you deeply. “If you want to, you can. I promise you, it’ll feel like too much, but I can show you just how much you can take.” 

“Lucifer,” you moaned, his tail wrapping again around your thigh. The tip ran through your folds, tip nudging the sensitive nub of nerves. You were so sensitive now, body coming apart on a hair trigger and needing hardly anything to push you toward another orgasm. 

“One more,” he asked, voice hot and needy in your ear as he kissed your neck. “One more, then I’ll take it off and we can finish up.” 

“That’s,” you sighed as his cock ran through your folds, nudging his tail from your clit. “That’s two more.” 

“For you,” he laughed as you sighed, body little more than jelly in his arms. “You can do it. Just say yes.” 

Temptation. The man you loved was the prideful face of temptation itself. He was everything anyone could ever want, a sweet promise of more. Who could deny him? Certainly not you. You granted your consent with nothing more than a timid nod, stilled by his lips on yours. 

The kiss was deep, stealing what little air you still had in your lings. It left your already weak knees unable to hold you. It didn’t matter; you didn’t need them too. 

Lucifer’s strong arms wrapped around you. Black hands buried in your hair, fingers digging into the feathers of your wings as he rutted his swollen cock against you. Each soft thrust had him panting, moaning softly. 

“Lucifer,” you moaned his name as he laid you back on the bed, legs hanging off the edge. 

“My favorite song,” he murmured, slipping his painfully hard cock back into your abused hole. His name fell from your lips again as he easily bottomed out, swollen walls easily parting for him, fluttering with the promise of more pleasure. 

“Wha-” you sighed your question, his pubic bone rubbing against your clit as he nestled the head of his cock at your cervix.

“You sing my favorite song,” Lucifer clarified, beginning to thrust into you. His pace was harder, each thrust slapping his hips against yours with more force than he had used in the prior two positions. The sting of him colliding with your clit had your back arched off the bed, wings twitching and spreading wide. “In all of hell, you sing my favorite song.” 

He watched himself delve into you, your warm body swallowing him easily. Arousal poured from you, evidence of the two prior orgasms. He hadn’t given you much time to recover from either of them, pushing you into overstimulation. 

Two more, that’s all he wanted. One for the selfish pleasure of watching you come apart on his cock and one for him to ride along with his own. It was selfish, he knew, but Father above knew he was little more than a prideful, selfish man. 

He watched as your breasts bounced and moved with each thrust into you. Tears gathered in your eyes as he ran his black hands down your stomach, feeling the way his swollen cock pressed into you with each thrust. Pleas fell from your lips as you looked up at him. 

Were you begging for more or for him to stop? You didn’t even know. 

Lucifer gripped your hip with one hand, running the other down your mound. As soon as he began rubbing your clit, running his fingers around your slick nub, your pleas reached new heights. Hips twitched as you battled between getting away from him and chasing the pleasure. 

You came with a sob. His name was the only thing that could be made out. Your chest heaved, breasts dancing for him as he lazily thrust into you. 

“So pretty,” he said, running his hands up and down your sides. He caressed your ribs and breasts as you twitched and clenched around him, body fighting him for the seed he was almost ready to give up. “A masterpiece.” 

“Last one,” you sobbed, body twitching with every brush of his hands. “I can’t, not again.” 

“You can,” Lucifer promised, pulling his cock from you. “It’ll be the last one, I promise. You’re doing so good for me. You can give me one last one. Look, angel, I’m taking the ring off now.” 

You slid from the bed, sitting limply on the floor at the foot of it as you watched him take the black ring from his cock. Instantly, once the pressure was removed blood rushed from his shaft. The golden color lightened and its size shank slightly. The head of his cock remained bright gold, weeping even as your slick reflected off of him. 

“Can you get onto your hands and knees for me?” He asked softly, kneeling in front of you. “You can do that for me, can’t you?” 

You tried. Shaking limbs needed support. He wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling your torso up as he sheathed himself in your shuddering body. He moaned behind you. 

As soon as he lowered you onto your hands, your elbows gave out. In a matter of moments, you were face down and ass up while the devil thrust into your body. Every part of you trembled, spent, exhausted and used up. The rustling of your wings was loud in your ears. Down feathers, knocked free by the change of position, floated down around your face.

The sound of his hips slapping into your ass reached your ears, along with the string of sweet praises. You loved the way he freely complemented you. Everything you did was just right for him, from the way you preened his feathers to the way you took his cock. 

You couldn’t make words form. All you could do was moan weakly as his fingers gripped your hips. There was something about this change of position that had you aware of the coil tightening in your stomach, something you swore you had grown numb to as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you. 

“Luci,” you whimpered, finally able to form his name when his cock twitched inside you. 

One hand ran down your stomach, caressing your slick clit as the other ran up your back. Fingers walked up your spine before wrapping around the base of your wing. The tightening grip on it had you crying out and clenching around him. 

“Luci,” you gasped, face resting against the ground as he increased his pace. “Luci, I- I’m… I’m… Luci,” you sobbed his name as he chased his finish. You were clenching around him, tightening with each kiss of his head against your cervix. 

You came with a wail, sobbing his name again and again as he folded over you. The grip of your walls around his overstimulated cock had no trouble pulling him into his own orgasm. Just as you cried out his name, he chanted yours as if it was the most sacred prayer he’d ever say. 

As he painted your walls white, clinging to your trembling body, blackness overtook your vision and your mind floated away. 

“Angel?” Lucifer asked as your relaxed body shifted. Realizing you had blacked out, he wrapped his arms tighter around you. A few strong beats of his wings and he could position the both of you into the bed. 

It hadn’t been his intention to fuck you to the point of blacking out, but it wouldn’t be incorrect to say pride didn’t swell in him as he dozed, holding you as you recovered. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[calirph]

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋: 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. all these sentences regard the nature of romance with a immortal creature, or romance between differences species. of stories that involve the fae, fairies, vampires elves and their complicated lives. change pronouns, location and names as you see fit.

“Do you really think I could ever resist your allure, even after all these years?”

“Your heart beats so sweetly; it’s almost intoxicating to be this close to you.”

“If I could give you immortality, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I want you to choose me, not my curse.”

“You have no idea what your blood does to me… it calls to the darkness within.”

“In the shadows, I’ve lived for centuries, but your light is what makes me feel alive.”

“Kiss me like the night is ours, and the dawn will never break.”

“Each time you brush against me, it’s like fire igniting in my veins.”

“I may be a creature of the night, but you make me crave the day.”

“Your laughter sounds like the wind dancing through the leaves; it makes my heart race.”

“In this fleeting world, you are my eternity, and I would choose you over a thousand lifetimes.”

“Even among my people, your beauty stands out like a rare flower blooming in winter.”

“Let me show you the stars through elven eyes, where magic lingers in the air.”

“With every touch, I can feel the essence of nature flowing between us.”

“You’re the melody that haunts my dreams; without you, my song would fade into silence.”

“To hold you is to embrace the very essence of life itself.”

“In the forest’s embrace, our souls are intertwined, unbreakable as the roots of ancient trees.”

“Your spirit dances like the fireflies at dusk; I want to be lost in your light.”

“In your presence, even the wildest of my kind would feel tamed.”

“A kiss from you is like tasting pure magic; I can’t get enough.”

“When you whisper my name, it’s like a spell that draws me closer to you.”

“You’ve bewitched me, heart and soul; I’m yours for all eternity.”

“Don’t you see? Our worlds may be different, but our hearts beat in the same rhythm.”

“Every time I catch your gaze, it feels like a dance of fate pulling us together.”

“Your laughter is the sweetest nectar; I want to drink it forever.”

“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met; your differences only draw me closer to you.”

“If you knew how hard it is to resist your charm, you’d understand my struggle.”

“In your eyes, I see a world I never knew existed, and I want to explore every part of it.”

“I’ve loved you through a thousand lifetimes, each one more vivid than the last.”

“Your skin feels like silk against mine; it’s a sensation I never want to forget.”

“You and I may be from different worlds, but our hearts speak the same language.”

“Touch me, and I’ll show you how our love can bridge the gap between our species.”

“Every moment with you feels like a dream; I never want to wake up.”

“Your breath against my skin sends shivers down my spine; I crave your touch.”

“Let me lose myself in you; I want to know every part of your being.”

“I ache for you in ways I can’t explain; it’s a hunger that only you can satisfy.”

“You’re a beautiful enigma, and I want to unravel every secret you hold.”

“When our lips meet, it feels like magic, as if the world around us disappears.”

“I can feel the heat radiating between us; it’s as if the universe conspired for this moment.”

“With you, every kiss is a promise; every touch, a vow of eternity.”

“Let me take you to the edge of desire and show you what true passion feels like.”

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might just lose control and turn you into my eternal lover.”

“Do you think you can keep up with my kind? We’re known for our… stamina.”

“You might be a mortal, but you certainly have a taste for the extraordinary.”

“I’ve seen lifetimes of beauty, but your smile makes even the stars jealous.”

“If you think I’m captivating, just wait until you see what else I can do.”

“I didn’t know humans could be so enchanting; it’s almost unfair.”

“Your heart may be fragile, but I promise to handle it with care.”

“They say opposites attract, but I think we’re the perfect kind of chaos." “You see me, not as a monster, but as a lover; it’s a gift I never thought I’d receive.”

“With every shared secret, our bond grows stronger, and I cherish you more.”

“You’ve taught me the beauty of vulnerability; it’s a treasure I didn’t know I needed.”

“In your eyes, I find solace; your love is my sanctuary from the world.”

“Though we are worlds apart, your heart feels like home to me.”

“You’re the reason I believe in the impossible; you make me want to be better.”

“Our love is a beautiful rebellion against the laws of nature; let’s embrace it.”

“I’ve walked through darkness, but your love shines brighter than any light.”

“The more time I spend with you, the more I crave your presence like a lifeline.”

“Every moment we’re apart feels like an eternity; I need you close to me.”

“You have a way of igniting a fire in me that I thought had long since died.”

“The thought of losing you terrifies me more than any battle I’ve faced.”

“I can’t help but want you; you’ve captured my heart and my very soul.”

“The mere thought of you sends shivers down my spine; it’s a hunger I can’t ignore.”

“Being near you feels like breathing; I can’t imagine life without your essence.”

“You’re my greatest temptation, and I find myself willingly surrendering to you.”

“I will love you through every storm, every battle, and every moment of darkness.”

“With you, I’ve found my forever; I promise to cherish you for all time.”

“Let’s defy the odds together; I’ll be by your side, no matter the cost.”

“You’re the promise I never knew I was searching for, and I’ll hold onto you fiercely.”

“Every day with you is a gift, and I vow to treasure each moment we share.”

“Our love story may be unconventional, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything else.”

[shibaraki]

“partners shouldn’t get emotionally involved with each other.”

a rule dabi lived by - and clearly failed to complete as he makes his way to your apartment. unlike the league, you have made a clear line between your villian and civilian life ; like night and day. which means you have enough to security to keep your identity hidden.

the mask you wear burned itself into his corneas, a feeling he only thought possible from his flames, dabi never thought he would he burned by another until now.

he makes his way up the fire escape of your apartment, moving carefully as he tries not to shift too much. despite the healing quirk used on him - the sting is still there, the newest addition to his body still tender as your budding relationship.

when he arrives to your window in your studio apartment, his hand twitches and subconsciously goes to his hair - as if to try to neaten and straighten his unruly dyed spikes. dabi can remember the exact moment of when his rule broke ; if you where to ask him now, he would blame it on the weather.

your mask had been cracked, you took off the barrier and when he saw your face in the misty, humid rain of july he couldn’t help but find you alluring.

a beautiful horse is found in the field.

blue eyes drank in your features behind his own mask of nonchalance, tracing over the freckles on your cheeks at your light hair had darkened due to the rain. you glanced at him, from the corner of your eye and you invited him to your apartment. it seems as if you have made a pattern, meeting up at your place for dinner.

a man approaches the horse, reaching to pet it’s snout.

this would happen for months - he would learn about you, falling for the tapestry of your being. your life, your hardships, your dream all of it more beautiful than the last and he finds it hard to go back to his rule of not being involved with others. you’ve given him a crumb - a single and shitty shared meal of cup ramen in your dim apartment as the rain drops pelt your windows have grown into months of rendezvous each one more intimate than the last.

the horse turns into a beast and drags the man to the depths.

dabi raps on the glass, and you open it not even a minute later. you’re in your pajamas aka a shirt left behind by him and a pair of his boxers that you keep in rotation for him. dabi grins, the staples on his skin stings but he can’t help but show a little bit of his joy around you.

“hey. i’ve got a surprise for you.” dabi says, straight to the point and you roll your eyes. he tilts his head like a dog and points at his shirt with his lips - a habit from you. raising an eyebrow you study his shirt. you don’t really know what is it you look for, its the same damn white shirt he wears all the time, but then you see it. a small bump at part of his shirt that covers his pec.

if anyone else were to see it, they’d chalk it up as his being cold. only, due to the nature of his quirk dabi is never cold. never before have you heard him shudder or his teeth chitter - with a nod of his head you close in, tugging down the light material from his collar you see it.

a sterling silver bar through the soft, pink skin of his nipple on his left pec. you swallow and his grin grows at your flustered expression.

“when did you get them?” you ask, voice shaking as you strum at all the ideas that fly through your head. dabi simply pulls up his shirt from the bottom, revealing another matching one to you. they are pretty - shining metal that glints under the lights of your small kitchen surrounding by pretty pink nipples.

“today. and they are already healed, the guy there got this quirk that heals up small incisions like these.” he snickers at the look on your face. you’ve never been one to hide your desire for him, he knows what he was going to get into by getting these pretty little adornments.

why else would he pay extra to get them healed the same day?

“think i can get you to cum by playing with them?” you ask, eyes dark when he looks up to meet there gaze. something lights and sparks and runs down his back, into his spine and infecting the marrow of his bones. lust, hot and heavy about all the things you want to do him - the things he’d let you do to him, as a reward for prettying himself up just for you.

as the man drowns, the beast swimming around him, he can see the moon through the shimmering water above him.

dabi only grins, heat coiling in his stomach and there’s steam from the corner of his mouth when he responses with a hedonistic grin,

“let’s found out, yeah?”

the man wouldn’t have it any other way, he thinks as his vision goes black.

i used kelpie imagery in the dabi ask i sent u as its mythos dictates that the kelpie fools its victims with his equine appearance only to drown them to eat them. in a way this is sort of how dabi falls for you. at first he finds you to be a reliable and stable partner, but as the summer nights grow longer and bleed into winter he finds himself dragged into a shared routine of life with you by the feelings that grow in his heart. the piercings he got for you - permeant indents in his most sensitive skin for you are like the final breath taken as your vision goes back under the watery depths. it’s the final nail in the coffin, dabi is in love with you before he could stop himself.

[rogloptimist]

LAKE MISSOULA x JONAS VINGEGAARD

credits under cut!

lake missoula - richy mitch and the coal miners // jonas vingegaard - team presentation, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard, tadej pogacar, and remco evenepoel - podium ceremony, tour de france 2024 (belga images) // tadej pogacar and jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2024 // wayward son - rainbow rowell // jonas vingegaard - stage 21, tour de france 2024 // it's down to legs - caley fretz // jonas vingegaard - stage 20, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard - stage 11, tour de france 2024 // a poem on hope - wendell berry // jonas vingegaard and remco evenepoel - stage 19, tour de france 2024 // quora user shulamit widawsky // jonas vingegaard - stage 21, tour de france 2024 (getty images) // jonas vingegaard - stage 21, tour de france 2024 post-race interview (flobikes) // 'now the fight is over': jonas vingegaard concedes tour de france battle for yellow, but still aims for second - adam becket // jonas vingegaard - stage 19, tour de france 2024 post-race interview (flobikes) // video: jonas vingegaard and matteo jorgenson consoled after heart-breaking end to stage 19 of 2024 tour de france for team visma | lease a bike - kieran wood // jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2024 // 'probably the hardest moment of my career'-- jonas vingegaard on his crash and fight to be ready for the tour de france - stephen farrand // jonas vingegaard's tour de france was a venn diagram - iain treloar // rise up and salute the sun: the writings of suzy kassem - suzy kassem // jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2023 // jonas vingegaard - stage 21, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard - stage 11, tour de france 2024 // vingegaard exhausted after tour de france: may cut season short - sjoerd valkering // jonas vingegaard and tadej pogacar - stage 20, tour de france 2024 (belga images) // the thing is - ellen bass // "if you had told me four months ago that i would be second, i wouldn't have believed you" - jonas vingegaard disappointed but proud of his tour de france - ondrej zhasil // jonas vingegaard and tadej pogacar - stage 11, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard - stage 11, tour de france 2024 post-race interview (nbc sports) // alfred lord tennyson // jonas vingegaard and tadej pogacar - stage 11, tour de france 2024 // remco evenepoel and jonas vingegaard - stage 21, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard and tadej pogacar - tour de france 2024 // matteo jorgenson and jonas vingegaard - stage 19, tour de france 2024 // matteo jorgenson and jonas vingegaard - tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard and tadej pogacar - podium ceremony, tour de france 2024 // jonas vingegaard and wout van aert - tour de france 2024 (team visma | lease a bike)

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[seilon]

shouldn’t have checked my bank account as expected my mother has taken thousands more dollars from my savings and has almost run me dry more or less. Cool!

[fingertipsmp3]

Someone needs to put me down like a sick dog

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[spookedorbit]

do you want me to fucking go off on you? do you truly fucking want that mother?