#x male!reader

[bumblesimagines]

A Burning Hill

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Years after losing his family, former revolutionary gets the surprise of his life.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical Arcane warnings, angst and death, lots of grieving, implied depression, silco when i catch you silco, child death (mylo, clogger)

divider by the-voice-beckons-below 

~~~

(Y/N) felt like a ghost on most days. He floated through the filthy streets of Zaun, ignorant to the buzzing and life around him whilst he walked from street to street until he reached his desolate home by the murky, polluted river. He preferred it, no matter how isolated from the rest of the city. It was home. Old, dull, and free from the tormenting memories the rest of the city held. Life passed him by steadily enough to keep everything at bay, anyway. 

The once-vibrant neon signs around the city buildings looked dull when he glanced at the blinking lights. Everything looked dull, washed of its original color, and rendered lifeless in his eyes. There was nothing pretty about Zaun anymore, nothing worth truly fighting for.

It didn't matter how many times Ekko visited him, all the speeches and pep talks he stubbornly gave while (Y/N) watched him only ever seeing the little boy he'd been and not the leader he'd grown into. He'd been like him once.. a long, long time ago.

"(Y/N)!" A gravelly voice called out from one of the stands lined along the rain-slicked cobble street. Mod raised a hand in greeting and then lifted a wooden bowl, the contents inside swishing and nearly dripping off the sides. He wiggled it enticingly and arched one bushy brow while a coaxing grin spread across his face. 

Somewhat reluctantly, (Y/N) approached the stand and pushed the hood of his old cloak back as he took a seat on one of the stools. Mod set the bowl before him and stuck a spoon in the fish soup. His reflection blinked slowly back at him, the bags under his eyes noticeable even in the cerulean broth. "Thanks." He muttered, his voice scratchy.

"Anythin' for you, boss." Mod chuckled heartily, thick fingers scratching at his patchy brown beard before he leaned his broad frame against the counter. There was a twinkle in his eyes, bright and mischievous. "Say, boss-"

"I'm not your boss." (Y/N) shoved a spoonful of broth with a chunk of fish into his mouth. 

Mod nodded solemnly. "'Course, 'course... I was talkin' to my pal the other day. You remember Divo, right? Well, he and his old lady finally called it quits, and I hear he's got his eye on you-" 

(Y/N)'s eyes darted up to meet Mod's hazel ones, his grip on the spoon tightening faintly. Not a single muscle in his face moved, yet Mod clamped his mouth shut instantly and turned his back to him to continue tending the stove with a nervous chuckle. (Y/N) chewed slowly on the fish, letting the flavor dance on his tongue and then swallowing.

He lifted the bowl and slurped as much of the broth as he could into his mouth before letting the bowl fall onto the counter with a clatter and wiping the leftover droplets from his mouth. He slapped a few coins on the table and slid off the stool to continue his way through the crowd, turning a deaf ear to Mod's calls for him.

Zaun was as alive as always. Kids were running about, most of them either fleeing from someone or rushing to catch up with their friends. His heart always clenched when he looked at them, when there was a straggler who couldn't keep up with the older kids.

His eyes always naturally gravitated toward them to watch, despite the stabbing feeling that pierced his gut each time. There was a reason he kept himself unfocused from the goings of the city; everything was a goddamn reminder. 

Ducking into an alleyway and dodging the rat that skittered across his path, he began making his way down the usual route to his place. He withheld a sigh when he stepped in a puddle and briefly stopped to shake the droplets from his drenched boot.

He only took a couple more steps before his ears picked up the splash of the puddle, and his mind jerked awake with newfound alertness. He bit his cheek, cursing whatever gods were watching over Zaun. The last thing he wanted was dealing with some stupid thief or wannabe thug trying to earn street cred. 

Once their footsteps grew closer, he swiftly spun around and grabbed the front of their shift, a yelp escaping the person when he slammed them into the nearest wall. His grip on their collar tightened until the breath was roughly sucked free from his lungs, every muscle in his body tensing.

He stared at the girl in his grasp, taking in the stunned look in her familiar light gray eyes and the short spiky magenta hair he knew so well. Her face was straight from his memories, only with sharper features, older features. His forehead creased in confusion, and he released her to take a startled step away from her. 

"Violet?" He exhaled a name he hadn't spoken in years, his chest stuttering with a shaky inhale.

His eyes flickered all over her face, lingering on the scars and the VI tattoo on her right cheek. No, Violet... His Violet was dead​​​​​​, just like Mylo and Clogger.. like Vander. He sucked another breath, his heart picking up into a pace that made it difficult to breathe. 

Violet stared back at him, her features softening until she looked like the fourteen-year-old girl that haunted his dreams, the little girl he lost along with his boys and husband. Her face contorted rapidly, scrunching up with her quivering lips as her eyes flooded with tears.

She gasped for air, one tear managing to escape before she fell into his arms with a sob, an act she'd done a million times before. His arms instinctively wrapped around her and pulled her tight to his chest, his own eyes beginning to sting with tears.

"Dad," She wept into his shoulder, her hands desperately clawing at his back until they bunched up his cloak into her fists. His hold tightened around her until he was cradling her as close as possible. He couldn't bear to consider if it was just another dream where she'd be violently ripped away from him all over again. "I'm so sorry."

"What the fuck."

His heart was thrumming like hell in his ears, his eyes wildly flickering over the burning warehouse by the river that looked like it'd been destroyed by some sort of explosion. He searched for anything, any noise or sign that someone, anyone, was alive and in need of help.

He searched for Vander, half-expecting him to stumble out of the ruins, but as he grew closer, with Ekko's hand tightly clutched in his, he spotted something that made his heart drop to his feet.

"No.." He exhaled and dropped Ekko's hand to rush forward, past the debris and flames, toward the corpse lying on the ground. 

His knees groaned when he collapsed onto them, but the pain barely registered in his frantic mind. Lying there, battered and lifeless, was Vander's body. It was mutated, parts of him enlarged unnaturally with prominent black veins and sickening bruises scattered across his body.

His grey eyes, the ones that always lit up at the sight of him, were pale and lifeless, blankly staring up at the night sky above them. His trembling hands took his cheeks, a sob tearing from his throat when Vander's head lolled to the side. 

"Van, c'mon, don't- don't do this, please." He couldn't breathe. Teardrops dripped and rolled off Vander's cheek, mixing with the splatters of blood and grime. His hands moved to his shoulders, and he shook him lightly, willing him to come back by some miracle. "Vander, hey, baby... c'mon. Come back to me, please. You- You can't leave me. You made an oath, Vander. You made an- an oath. You made a fucking oath."

His fingers dug into Vander's skin, once warm but now growing cold with the night air. (Y/N) held his cheeks in his palms, praying to whatever deity came to mind to bring his husband back to him, but Vander's lifeless eyes remained half-lidded and his chest remained still.

(Y/N) grinded his teeth together, his vision blurring until the hot tears tumbled down his cheeks, and he collapsed over Vander's corpse, half-sobbing half-screaming until his voice grew hoarse. 

"Please, please, don't do this to me..." He whimpered, helplessly reaching for Vander's limp arm and raising it to press his large, collaoused palm over his cheek.

The cool metal of his wedding band pressed into (Y/N)'s skin, burning like a hot iron. Their wedding day flashed clear before his eyes: the party at the Last Drop, the stupidly sugary sweet vows Vander spoke into the microphone that had him unable to make eye contact, the dancing and festivities that kept the bar alive with a happiness they hadn't experienced in ages, little Violet and baby Powder giggling along the whole night with their mother and father.

He looked down at him through blurry, unfocused vision, the heaves and sobs wrecking through his body until it grew sore. This wasn't how they were supposed to part. It wasn't. They were supposed to grow old and frail and gray.

"(Y/N).." Ekko's soft, trembling voice reached his ears. "I... I found this."

Sniffling, (Y/N) lifted his head and turned toward the little boy, a strangled noise emitting from his throat at the sight of Clogger's goggles in his hands, shattered and bloodied. He reached a shaking hand out to gingerly grab them, his thumb rubbing over the glass until his skin caught on the broken glass.

Clogger, Mylo... his boys. His sweet, troublemaking boys. He surveyed the mess around them in search of his missing daughters, but there was no sign of them. His eyes dropped back to his husband.

He'd never be able to listen to one of Mylo's rambly vents again or tend to his injuries while he huffed and puffed. He'd never be able to fix up Clogger's goggles when they broke for the tenth time or share an eye roll over someone's childish antics again. He'd never get to curl up in Vander's arms at night and listen to his rumbling laugh while he recounted his day or feel his lips brush over his ear while he muttered corny love confessions that always made him flush and roll his eyes. 

"Who..." His jaw clenched. "Who did this?"

Ekko wiped his runny nose and swallowed, his big, watery eyes narrowing. "Silco."

Silco.

Always. Fucking. Silco.

He stumbled onto his feet in an instant, the bottom of his boots slapping against the stone as he took off down the path leading back into the city. The buildings, markets, and nightlife passed him by in a blur of gray and neon as he ventured further and further toward the inner parts of the Lanes where he knew, he just knew, Silco would be. Other Zaunites leaped out of the way, with those who were too slow being shoved aside until the Last Drop came into view. His home, his sanctuary, and there were already lackeys shuffling in and out of the bar. 

He was heaving by the time he swung the bar doors open, his steps slightly staggered as he entered the familiar bar. Some of their regulars were already arguing with Silco's men; Sevika sat at one of the booths with a pained expression as someone hurriedly tended to her shoulder where her arm was simply gone; those injured from the warehouse soothed themselves with alcohol bought from Vander's hard-earned money.

He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. 

(Y/N) shoved Clogger's goggles into his pocket, ignoring the pain in his hand from where glass shards embedded themselves into his palm. He took in a staggering breath. "Where... the fuck is Silco?" 

Wide eyes turned in his direction. The regulars frowned sympathetically, and their heckles raised on his behalf, while the lackeys that blindly followed Silco exchanged panicked or hesitant glances. He scanned the bar, but no one uttered a word, leaving the air with a suffocating tension.

One of the younger lackeys glanced up toward the office, the office he used to plan out his ideas, and then shrunk back into his seat when he caught (Y/N) staring daggers at him. Another lackey had the bright idea to step in front of him, his chest puffed out with smug arrogance over their 'victory'. 

His husband was dead. Murdered brutally alongside the orphaned children they took in when everyone else turned their backs on them. The only feeling (Y/N) that knew better than grief was pure, unbridled rage. He'd locked the rage away years ago, worked on it until it was tamed for the sake of his children, who'd grown up seeing too much violence on the streets to see it from their protector. It brewed in his stomach relentlessly now, simmering and growing until it made his body run hot. 

The young man only had a second to react, a second for surprise to flash over his face, before (Y/N) twisted his dark hair in his fist and slammed his head into the nearest table. He dug the heel of his hand into the man's temple, and with his move, the tension broke, and people lunged at each other. (Y/N) released the stranger, watching him slump onto the floor and clutch his no doubt throbbing head, before he walked around him and bounded up the metal stairs leading up to his office.

There were thuds, crashes, glass shattering, and shouting behind him, but he was only focused on the wooden door growing closer. Silco stood inside his office in the bar his husband owned after slaughtering his family. Silco turned toward him when the floorboards creaked underneath his weight, his mismatched eyes widening before (Y/N)'s fist connected with his cheek.

Silco stumbled backward, his hip bumping into the desk covered in the papers he used for designing mechanisms and technology. He grabbed onto the desk, half-way hunched over as blood dripped down from his nose and onto his vest. 

"Felicia wasn't enough for you, was she?" (Y/N) spat out through gritted teeth, drawing Silco's eyes back to his face. They remained widened for a long second and then flickered away to the framed picture hanging on the wall of them back before her death, back before the brotherly bond between Vander and Silco dissolved. "Your ambition took my sister, my brother-in-law, but you couldn't stop there, could you? You just had to take my husband and children, too."

Silco brushed his fingers over the streak of blood coating his upper lip and straightened up, palm brushing back the dark strands that fell over his face from the hit. "I never intended for Felicia and Connol to get hurt." He said grimly, curling his hands around the hem of his vest to adjust it properly over his body. "The children weren't supposed to be there. The boys... Violet. They were... collateral damage."

(Y/N) stared at him, aghast, his fingers curling into fists once more despite the sharp pain in his hands. "Vander and I loved you once." He gritted his teeth, tears tittering on the edge of his vision.

There were faint memories of them in that very office, hunched over the desk while dreaming up what Zaun would look like without Piltover's boot on their necks. Memories of them chatting in a corner of the Last Drop until Silco practically shoved him into Vander's arms so they could dance with Felicia. Silco blinked at him in startlement.

"I thought.. You were the cleverest man in Zaun, that you'd be the one to help us make Zaun better than Piltover. But you're just a filthy, weak little fucking rat." 

(Y/N) barely registered how quickly he closed the distance until his hand fisted the collar of Silco's shirt and shoved him onto the floor. He followed him down, his knees pinning Silco's shoulders down against the floorboards as he tugged his knife free from its holster around his waist. Silco's eyes widened again, his hands clutching and shoving against (Y/N)'s legs. 

"If Felicia saw you-" Silco gasped out. "-what would she say?" 

"She'd hate you for what you did to her daughters, you piece of shit!"

Heavy footsteps quickly grew near, and a bulky arm swooped around his waist to haul him off Silco. "(Y/N), enough-" Sevika hissed in his ear, a strained, pained groan filling his ear as she staggered, weakened from the blow that'd taken her arm.

His legs kicked out toward the desk, and he used it to propel himself back into her, the weight and force forcing her to stumble back until she slammed into the wall. She released him with a cry and clutched at her shoulder with heavy breaths. 

He caught himself before he fell, his hand still clutching the knife like a vice when he turned to face Silco. The thin man scrambled to get to his feet again, but (Y/N) swiftly kicked him back down, his movements growing sluggish from exhaustion. He slumped back onto the floor, one knee pinning Silco's forearm and soaking in the wince. He was tired, too. Bastard. 

"Vander... Vander thought you were redeemable, even after what you did to Felicia and Connol. He wanted to talk, to make amends, and you slaughtered him like a pig, you-" (Y/N) inhaled sharply, frantically blinking away the tears building in his eyes. Silco froze at his words, stiffening fully underneath him and staring up at him with big eyes. (Y/N) scoffed, disgusted just by looking at his shock. "It should've been your body lying there, forgotten and alone."

(Y/N) raised the blade yet hesitated, his quivering lips pressing together tightly as his eyes flickered between Silco's eyes. The blue-green of his right that'd once been warm and gentle made his stomach churn violently.

For a moment, he found himself staring down at the Silco he used to know, the soft-spoken yet sarcastic young man who'd sit with him while he sketched and offer pointers with a small, tender smile. (Y/N) squeezed his eyes shut and brought the knife down, listening to it embed itself in the floorboard. Silco released a quiet, shaky breath.

Swallowing harshly, (Y/N) opened his eyes to glare down at him. "Where's Powder?" 

"My baby girl," (Y/N) carefully cradled her face in his hands, stroking his thumb over her pale skin as a manic laugh fell from his lips. She was real. "They told me you were dead. I-I thought you died with Mylo and Clogger that night. I should've- I should've looked harder. Where- Where have you been?" 

Violet wrapped her bandaged hands around his wrists and nuzzled her face into his palms, her shoulders lightly trembling as she took in a staggered breath. "Stillwater." She whispered, her teeth gently biting at her bottom lip as her eyes flickered away with a wince. "That Piltover officer.. the one that worked with Grayson, he.. he took me there. Kept me there this whole time." Her jaw clenched.

(Y/N) bit his tongue and took in a slow inhale, his eyes closing briefly. Marcus. He'd always hated the asshole, even more so after his promotion. "How- How'd you get out?" He blinked his eyes open, his brows knitting together in bewilderment. "Did- Did you escape?"

Stillwater was notorious for keeping a tight hold on its prisoners, and even if one managed to escape, the treacherous waters surrounding the small island would kill anyone who tried fleeing via swimming or boat. Violet had always been resilient, but even she couldn't have possibly escaped alone.

"No, I-"

"Violet! You have got to stop disappearing like that!" 

At the end of the alleyway, a young woman stumbled toward them, her fingers tugging the hood back over her head when it slipped after her clumsy attempt at wriggling free from the crowd. She kept her gaze pointed toward the crowd before she turned to look at them, her lips parting to speak, but she quickly closed them when she noticed him. She froze, stiff like a plank, and then slowly raised her hand to give an awkward wave. 

"Dad," Violet began, her lips twisting into a sheepish, hesitant smile. He frowned. Nothing good ever came out of a smile like that. "This is Caitlyn Kirraman."

"Kiramman?"/ "Dad?!"

(Y/N)'s head turned back to the dark blue haired-girl with a squinted gaze that only made her stiffen again. He raked his eyes over her slender figure, taking note of the clothes beneath the draps hanging onto her shoulders.

Her skin was too clear, too perfect. Her hair was too sleek and shiny. Her clothes were prim and delicate, not a hole or tear or washed-out color on a single article. Her hands looked smooth, free of callouses. Her body flinched with each loud noise that came from the night market, like a mouse in a den of vipers. Topsider, and given the weapon strapped to her back, she was an Enforcer.

He snapped his attention back to Violet and tore his hands from her face to set them over his hips disapprovingly. Violet's sheepish look grew, and she dropped her eyes onto the ground, where she lightly kicked a pebble aside. "You're with a Enforcer?! Violet! You just told me you were at Stillwater- I- Ugh." (Y/N) pinched the bridge of his nose. "What am I going to do with you, Vi?" 

"Love me?" Violet proposed with a little, cheeky smile. 

(Y/N)'s shoulders sagged, a huff of amusement slipping past his lips before he tugged her into another tight embrace. "I missed your smartass comments, you little asshole." Violet's laugh sounded muffled against his shoulder, her arms sliding around his waist in an equally tight hug. "I always knew you'd be hard to get rid of.. like dog shit that gets stuck on the bottom of shoes." Violet laughed again, this time lightly pushing at his chest and rolling her eyes. 

"Ahem," Caitlyn shuffled forward toward them, her eyes jumping between their faces before she focused on him and stuck her hand out for him to shake with a polite yet strained smile. "As Vi said, I'm Caitlyn Kiramman. I helped your daughter get out of Stillwater Prison this morning." 

(Y/N) eyed her outstretched hand. "Why?"

"I.." Caitlyn trailed off, her fingers curling inward before she dropped her hand back to her side. "I need her help.. and yours, I suppose. There is an... ongoing investigation regarding stolen shipments that I have reason to believe have been orchestrated by the man you all know as Silco. If I gather enough evidence, we may be able to put him behind bars for once and for all." She firmly nodded. 

(Y/N)'s mouth drew into a taut line, his front teeth dragging along each other. He could still hear his own sobs echoing in his ears, the hoarse screams into his pillow the following weeks after the warehouse incident. He was so tired. He stared down at the stone ground beneath them, watching the water covering it reflect the neon signs lining the tops of the buildings above them.

His head shook lightly. "Don't bother."

"Dad, c'mon... You still have power here. People still respect you; some still fear you." Violet placed her hand over his shoulder, her fingers gently squeezing it. "If you rallied the people-"

"Your father was the leader, Violet. I was the follower, the one who took orders, the one who had to be patched up constantly. Everything and everyone I fought for is.. is gone. I have nothing left in me, Vi, I don't. All I do is wait for the day I can reunite with Van and be done with all this." 

The corners of Violet's brows angled upward. "You- You have me. I'm here, Dad. I'm- I'm back... and Powder.. she's still here, right? She's okay, right? Tell me she's okay, please."

"It's complicated, Vi. She.. She's alive." The relieved, breathy laugh that escaped Violet made him wince. He raised his gaze off the ground to look at her, the pained frown on his lips wiping the relief clean from her face. "I see her, sometimes. She pops by when she feels like it. Sometimes, we'll bump into each other and talk. She... she hasn't gone by Powder in a long time. Powpow doesn't exist anymore, Vi. She's one of Silco's lackeys now."

"What?"

"I've tried getting through to her for ages, even Ekko's given it a go, but she's stubborn. She's not well, Vi.. and Silco- Silco refuses to see it. I've told him time and time again but-" (Y/N) rubbed his fingertips over his forehead, soothing away a building headache. Their countless arguments rang clear in his ears. It was like talking to a wall on most days. "Our talks never go anywhere. I hate him too much, and he knows it. Uses it as a reason not to believe me. It's hopeless, Vi."

"No... No, no, I don't-" Violet turned away from him, one hand raising to clutch her chest while the other braced against the wall. "I-I don't believe that. She- She'd never work for him, not after what he did. You're wrong. I can help her, I swear. I-I can get through to her. I can prove it."

"It's not that simple, Vi." 

"I'm her big sister." Violet's hands curled into fists, and her head raised to look at him, the determination in her eyes startlingly similar to Vander's. It made his throat tighten. "She's my responsibility."

"You're my girls, Vi. You two will always be my responsibility... but things are different. If I push too hard, I risk losing her forever." He stepped toward her, reaching out to delicately touch her chin and remind himself she really was alive. Alive and no longer the little girl he'd taken care of since she was a newborn. "If you go running after her and Silco finds out, who knows what he'll do. I can't lose you again." 

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. I can take care of myself." A tender smile spread on Violet's face, her hand enveloping his reassuringly. "I'll bring Powder back, and we'll be a family again, I promise."

[burning-omen]

OKAY. LET ME COOK. Can I request abo with Omega Wolverine (💀) and he is going into heat. And he needs his alpha to come take care of him and leads to wolverine and reader taking care of him to make sure his omega is okay.am fucking dying 💀 -😉

Logan Howlett x Male Reader

Word count: 5,841

Warnings: Smut, A/B/O/ Omegaverse, !!Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers!!, mentions of Wade and Logan figting (Logan repetedly breaking Wade's jaw, Logan has a knife in his shoulder, Ect..), Bottom! Logan, Omega! Logan, Top!Male!Reader, Alpha!Male!Reader, Marking, scenting, regular A/B/O stuff, Breeding, heat inducing wet dreams, breaking and entering.

(A/N: First fic back Hooray! I haven't written for Wolvie in years so bear with me)

Finding a man passed out drunk in your living room wasn’t something you planned for. You were actually planning to use your day off to catch up on some sleep, but this man- you recognized him as your neighbor, Logan, after taking a closer look- was really preventing that from happening. Your unexpected guest had taken over your couch and smelled very heavily of alcohol, you pushed him onto the floor so the smell wouldn't soak into your couch. You knew Logan was tough, and that he slept like a fucking 300 pound brick according to Wade, pushing him off the couch felt like you were trying to push a car with a dead battery but you were able to move the man onto the floor in an unceremonious heap after a couple of minutes of trying. A heavy thud followed his fall, but he didn’t so much as grunt when he hit the floor, and for a moment you wondered if he was actually dead, but the slight twitch in his hand told you he was fine, probably.

You weren’t going to let this ruin your day off, taking another look at the man, you did feel a little bad leaving him on the floor, not enough to put him back on your couch- no you paid way to much for it to do that- but bad enough for you to grab a spare pillow and blanket for the man. It felt a little weird, tucking in your intruder rather than calling the police on him, but you knew Logan well enough to know that he almost definitely meant to break into his own apartment and got a little mixed up. Being drunk will do that.

Moving away from him and into the kitchen, you decided to make breakfast, as your plans of sleeping had been completely ruined at- you looked at the clock on your stove- 6:37 in the morning. You just wanted to get some water before you went back to sleep, but no, now your making breakfast because even though you knew that Logan was relatively friendly- in his own way- waking up to him in your living room was fucking nerve wrecking and you falling back asleep wasn’t likely.

Opening your refrigerator, you took out a couple of eggs, then remembered that Logan was an absolutely massive man and promptly took out a couple more. You figured that eggs and bacon was an ok impromptu breakfast. Pans clinging together as you try to find the right one in the cabinet, trying to light your shitty gas stove without starting a fire, finally beginning to cook the bacon in the pan. 

When Logan walked in a couple minutes later, seemingly still asleep as he nearly reached into the pan to grab the bacon that wasn’t even done cooking yet, you grabbed his wrist, nearly dropping your spatula as you yanked the man's hand away from the pan.

“Dammit, be careful!”

Your voice seemingly woke him up, eyes opening wide as he stared at you, then his face morphed into one of confusion as he looked around, realizing that he definitely wasn’t in his own apartment.

“Good morning, could you please get out of my kitchen, you smell like beer.”

He blinked, “How the hell did I get here?”

Releasing his wrist and turning back to the stove, flipping the bacon as you said, “You broke in.”

You heard him groan, probably in embarrassment or annoyance, you’d be pretty embarrassed if you broke into your super nice neighbor’s apartment too.

“Fuck..” He muttered under his breath. 

“It’s fine, Logan, just let me finish cooking- and don’t sit on my couch!”

He left the kitchen almost immediately, but slowly. You figured he was hungover- you weren’t sure if that could happen with a healing factor like his but with the way he held his head in his hand, you figured something had to be happening. 

Wade had pretty much filled you in on his little multidimensional adventure. He also had a tendency to break into your apartment, (which is probably why you had a relatively calm reaction to Logan) he basically just declared that you were friends one day, it was pretty unceremonious actually. He told you everything, usually things you didn’t want to know, but you didn’t mind his company.

A couple more minutes passed and you finished cooking, making plates and grabbing forks before leaving the kitchen to find Logan. It took you a second, but you found him back in the living room, sitting on the floor, in front of the TV, cover draped over his shoulders. You sat down next to him, silently handing him a plate- he looked a little surprised, but took it with a quick, “Thanks.”

You ate quietly, you could tell Logan appreciated his sizable plate. When he was finished he sat it on the ground next to him. Hesitating for a moment before speaking,

“Sorry about breaking in,”

You hummed, “It’s fine, really, you’re not the first person to break in.”

He grunted, “I know Wade comes over sometimes.”

“Yeah, he’s bought me at least five new doorknobs in the past year, he acts like knocking will kill him.”

The irony made Logan snort, “Yeah, I wish.”

You sat your now empty plate on top of his.

“No you don't, you think Al will let you stay with her if he dies?”

“I’ll get my own place” 

“Uh Huh,” you hummed, “With what money?”

That made him laugh, even if it was a small one.

A moment passed and neither of you spoke, the house grew quiet and the space between the two of you became awkward.

Another moment passed and he pushed himself up off the floor, “I better get going.”

You followed behind him, to the front door where your door was left slightly open and what remains of the handle laid on the floor. You both paused at the sight, Logan glanced over at you, a bit of worry on his face.

You let out a sigh, “I'll get Wade to pay for it.”

The soft, humorous smile on your face made Logan relax as you kicked the sliced metal that used to be your doorknob to the side. 

“Thank you- for breakfast..and not calling the police.”

You laughed before saying, “Anytime, really. Just..call next time.”

He smiled as he left, deciding, deep in his subconscious, that he liked you.

~~~~~~~

You didn’t see him for another month after that, you’ve caught glances of him in passing, but nothing quite as friendly as your first meeting. Until one day, at about two in the morning, you could hear fighting next door. It woke you up out of your sleep as something was thrown against the wall over and over and over, then there was the yelling and growling and snarling. You knew Logan and Wade fought a lot in a mostly unserious way, but it was way to fucking early for DIY WWE. You knew better than to get involved in one of their fights. They were mutants, you weren’t, and you were not about to get in the middle of whatever they had going on. It’s kinda funny, considering what you’ve been told your whole life- the typical Alpha propaganda, being the strongest, the fastest, the leader. Your sure it worked on some people, but you were very fortunate to not fall down the aggressive uber dominate typical male alpha rabbit hole- you knew you wouldn’t always be the fastest, the strongest, or the most eligible leader just because you were an alpha (which most alphas should have figured out by now, considering that, like, half of the fucking Avenger are omegas- it was really funny trying to see people grabble with that fact when it came out.)

Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you realized that the fighting had stopped, and now it was eerily quiet. You decided that it wasn’t your problem and rolled over to finally get some sleep. Your eyes were closed for maybe thirty seconds when a rapid banging on your door forced you out of bed.

Your door had long since been fixed, unlocking the door and swinging it open, a deeply tired look on your face.

Logan stood in front of you, covered in more blood that you’ve seen on a person in your entire life. A large gash on his face sealing itself right before your eyes. 

“Are you two done?” You asked tiredly.

He nodded, you stepped aside to let him in, only to look down and notice the trail of blood left by his boots. You grabbed him by the back of his shirt like you’d grab an unruly cat by its scruff.

“Take your shoes off, go shower.” He paused, turning around with a questioning look on his face, but he obeyed anyway.

Taking off his bloodied boots and tossing them out the door. You could smell something different in the air, but you were too tired to care- it wasn’t smoke or gas, so you weren’t worried about it, but it was something- something distinctly sweet.

You pointed Logan to the bathroom, flicking the light on with him trailing behind you. You could feel the energy practically draining out of your body every second you were conscious.

Muttering, “All the towels in the cabinet are clean-” you paused for a moment, really taking in the state of the man clothes, torn and bloodied- you noticed the small knife sticking out of his shoulder and didn’t even bother panicking, “You can leave you clothes on the counter, put the knife in the sink though. I’ll bring you something to wear.”

He listened well, you figured he must be tired too, his half-lidded expression and general obedience was surprising, but welcome at 2 in the morning.

You walked past him, turning the shower on before leaving without saying a word, closing the door behind you.

You left out a spare pillow and cover for the man, the same ones as last time, washed, of course, because Logan left them smelling like alcohol and you really didn’t want that stinking up your apartment. You moved on to half heartedly cleaning the blood off the floor with a couple of paper towels- cleaning may have been too strong a phrase, you really just threw them over the bloody footprints and moved on for the night. 

Finding Logan some clothes was really a guessing game, you couldn't really ask the man what size he wore, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to find something you thought would fit him. 

~~~~~~~

A sudden waft of cold air that filled the bathroom when you swung the door open, Logan could hear you moving around. Hot water cascaded down his body, washing away any evidence of the fight he’d had with Wade- really he needed to learn to shut the fuck up sometimes, that clearly wasn’t happening anytime soon, so Logan would settle for breaking his jaw over and over again until he got the point. It never stuck through, not with Wade, even after breaking his spine at least twice the man kept talking. The fight ended when Al woke up, not that Wade really cared, because even then he wouldn’t leave Logan alone. Because he likes Al, and to prove Wade wrong, he headed over to your house.

Despite what Wade had heavily insisted, he’s not avoiding you, and he’s not suppressing any feelings for you because there weren’t any to be had in the first place.

“‘Left you some clothes, i'm gonna wash yours, I’ll try and fix them in the morning but they’re pretty beat up.” He could hear how tired you were, and if he was anybody else he might have felt guilty for keeping you up this late. Surprisingly, he was enjoying the attention.

You were gone before he could respond, by the time he got out of the shower he couldn’t hear any movement around your apartment, so he figured you went to bed. Cracking the bathroom door to let some of the steam out and wiping his hand on the fogged over mirror, his body had healed completely, no longer bruised or caked with blood. Rubbing his hand over his face, suddenly feeling just as tired as you had looked, looking down at the neatly folded pile of clothes replacing his old ones. A large black Superman t-shirt and a gray hoodie, long, red checkered pajama pants, and navy blue underwear, folded right on top. The clothes smelled like you, and not just like the detergent you used, no, they had your natural scent on them. Logan wasn’t going to not wear them, considering he had nothing else to wear and he really didn’t want to walk over to his place to get clothes. He thought back to what happened last time he was here- when he broke in. He doesn’t really remember much of that night, but he does remember his dream. It started off as nothing, the usual black void that kept him calm as he slept, then an unfamiliar scent changed that- he had what he considered an under-active imagination, but that scent kicked it into hyperdrive. He dreamed of being held and loved, but most prominently of getting fucked. Logan would be the first to say that it’s been a long time for him, and that was partially his own fault, chronic self isolation did that, and partially because the only people he’d ever wanted to fuck him were dead. Not all of them, apparently, because whoever scent it was driving him insane. He’s been called feral before, along with other things, but it made him feel like his heat was about to start at that very second. It was miracle he didn’t wake up covered in his own slick that moring- or worse, start his heat in your fucking living room- and that was just from having a cover on him, actually wearing your clothes might put him in a coma.

He figured the strong scent of alcohol covered any of his lingering arousal, or maybe you were too nice to say anything. And you cooked for him- he broke into your house, damaged your property and you fucking cooked for him.

Wade swore he has a crush on you- which led to them fighting, of course, but they fought most days over any little thing. This wasn’t anything new.

He put on the clothes more hesitantly than he’d ever admit- and it was almost overwhelming, but he pushed through it, cutting off the light in the bathroom and navigating through your dark apartment. The light in the living room was on, as well as the TV, the remote was sat on top of the folded cover you left out for him. He quickly settled, he didn’t usually watch TV when he went to sleep, but he needed something to distract from your scent right now. Finding some shitty home improvement show and settling on the couch, keeping his mind as blank as he could, he had Jean to thank for that skill because it was really useful right now. Couldn’t think of sex if he wasn’t thinking at all. Letting the mind numbingly boring show be the white noise as he drifts off.

Logan, however, could not control his thoughts while he was asleep. His subconscious was working overtime, now, with a face and a voice to put to the alpha whose scent had effortlessly disarmed him and brought him to his knees.

It was such an easy image to conjure, you sitting in front of him as he rested his head on your thigh, running your hands through his hair as he stared up at you with pleading eyes, you smiled down at him, a small, warm smile, swearing lightly as he slowly unzipped your pants, already hard and waiting for him, you’d grab him by the hair and he’d let out a slow purr as you pulled him closer. Taking the tip of your cock in his mouth, sliding his tongue over it a few times, finally getting a taste of what he so desperately craves. He took as much as he could in his mouth, feeling it hit the back of his throat. Looking up at you again, a string of moans fell from your open mouth, your eyes just barely open, staring down at him. Your grip on his hair tightened for a moment, the shot of pain coursing through his scalp for a short moment, a muffled moan left him, before settling as you released him. Using his tongue to feel every little vein in your cock, moving slowly as you ran your fingers through his hair again. Feeling no need to rush as the heat in his chest and in his stomach grew hotter and hotter.

His own cock throbbed between his legs but he didn’t touch it, even as it leaked and mixed with the mess of slick in the boxer you gave him, he had no doubt that you would handle it. Letting your cock prod his throat and push past the barrier. Almost all his airflow was blocked but he didn’t pull back, trying to take you as deep as he could only to be yanked back by his hair. Pulled completely off your cock, he looked up at you, confused.

“What?” He said, his voice rough and deep.

You didn’t respond, instead, you stood, still holding onto him- and practically dragged him to your bedroom. He tried to keep up on all fours, panting and moaning at the pain and at how much this turned him on.

He was practically purring in your hand as you guided him onto your bed.

“You look so good like this,”

Your voice was sweet and genuine, quiet praises fell from your mouth as you slowly removed his clothes piece by piece. He only got hotter the more you revealed of him, the burning under his skin reaching an all time high. Once he was completely bare in front of you, you ran your hands across his body, starting at his chest, moving all the way down to his stomach and the thick trail of hair leading down to his cock, then back up again.

“Tell me what you want sweetheart.” You muttered, leaning down and pressing a kiss on his collar.

“I-” he breathed out, vision slightly blurred, “I want you.”

You smiled, kissing his neck, his jaw, his lips, “I want you, too.”

~~~~~~~

The almost overbearing smell of burning oak and honey pulled you out of your sleep, checking your phone, you saw that it’s been less that three hours since you let Logan in, and his scent, which was usually calm and almost unnoticeable, was filling your bedroom, even with him nowhere in sight. Running your hand over your face with a tired groan, then you took a deep breath, and any irritation you felt rising at being woken up again melted away. You enjoyed the scent longer than you should have- it made you feel warm on an otherwise cold night.

For a second you considered opening the window- you were practically drowning in his scent and you aren’t even in the same room- but a sudden and overwhelming feeling of possessiveness kept you from doing it. Logan was vulnerable right now, what kind of friend would you be if you let just anyone encounter him like this- god, what if Wade of all people found out, you nor Logan would ever hear the end of it. A small part of your brain that wasn’t completely clouded by Logan’s utterly intoxicating scent wondered why he suddenly decided to present so strongly, a louder, more primal part of your brain screamed “Heat!” until it's all you could think of. The thought made a shiver shoot through your spine as blood pooled straight downward.

You tried to think of what could have started his heat so suddenly, but any detective work would have to wait until you didn’t feel like breeding him anymore. That quiet, logical part of your brain was telling you to stay in your room- but it was too quiet and you ended up leaving your room and heading into the pitch black darkness that was the rest of your house. You moved completely out of muscle memory, heading straight to the living room. You could feel the heat radiating off the man the second you entered, reaching for the light on the wall, missing it twice before flipping the switch. The room lit up immediately. Logan was truly something out of your wildest fantasies, face buried in a pillow, cover completely discarded on the floor, his shirt rode up while his pants were riding down in an attempt to relieve the heat burning in his skin. Hips rolling against the couch cushion as soft, almost inaudible moans escaped the man. You just stared for a long moment, frozen in shock at the sight.

You were fully aware you shouldn’t be watching this, your heart was pounding it your chest, and your dick was throbbing in your pants. 

Your breath caught in your throat when he stopped, a long groan emitting from him as he rolled onto his back.

Fully hard and straining against the pajama pants you gave him, taking a deep breath in through his nose, then his body tensed, a second later his eyes snapped open and he stared you down, just a few feet away from him, just as flustered, heart pounding just as hard as his, pants just as tight and straining. He pushed himself up, swinging his legs over so he was sitting upright. He gave you a small challenging look. That’s all it took for any bit of resolve you had to be thrown out the window.

It was a messy, desperate first kiss, your hands practically clawing at each other's bodies as you pressed your lip to his- Logan decided that you were definitely a better kisser in real life than you were in his dream. It left both of you hot and gasping for air. Pushing Logan back down onto the couch, pushing his legs open and slotting yourself between them. He pulled back with a winded laugh and a smirk.

“Mhh, what’s so funny?” you asked, not waiting for him to answer before you continued kissing any exposed bit of skin you could find, leaving a hickey on his collar bone- only to watch it disappear seconds later.

He craned his neck back almost instinctively, giving you as much space as he could.

“Didn’t think I’d actually ever want an alpha,’ thought that was a bunch of bullshit.”

You hummed, your hands finding their way under his shirt, feeling his skin against yours, the searing heat of it. Feeling what Wade had called on numerous occasions ‘fucking massive tits’. You had to say he was right, watching as a shudder ran through Logan's body. 

“And now?” You asked, a small smirk on your face.

He hissed quietly, rolling his hips against yours, “I’m fucking burning for you.”

You felt the nearly unsuppressable urge to mark him rise. He wanted you, he was burning for you. 

Not any other alpha out there- He could have gone anywhere tonight, you're sure he knew every late night bar in a 50 mile radius, and he still came to you.

You pulled back, nearly ripping his pants in a desperate attempt to get them off- your frantic, ecstatic state made a small laugh rise in Logan’s chest, he didn’t even consider helping you. He let you do all the work, if you were that desperate for him then you wouldn’t complain- and you didn’t. (He was a considerable amount more desperate than you were, considering he was just humping your couch like a damn dog 5 minutes ago and he just started what was more than likely going to be a very, very bad heat.)

When you were finally able to get his pants off, you could feel just how wet he was. The navy boxer you gave him were drenched in slick, clinging to him, showing off the hard outline of his cock. Logan sunk farther into the couch, a low purr emitting from deep in his chest.

“Don’t just look.” he panted.

His body reacted so strongly every time you took your hands off of him, even if it was just for a moment, his body would ache and writhe the second they were away from him. He let out a low breath when you finally touched him again, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other holding his face as you kissed him. He moaned unapologetically, loud, but muffled by your lips as you kissed him. His hips bucked up into your hands as you rubbed him through his boxer. Logan's head fell back against the cushions, eyes squeezed shut as a babble of swears fell from his lips, almost indistinguishable from his moans and low growls.

You tease him for what, to Logan, felt like hours. Sensitive and so pent up, he clung to you, holding your body against his, his face buried in your neck, taking in as much of your scent as he could. The burning in his skin didn’t stop, but it felt a lot cooler with you against him.

Logan was scenting you- you realized that the two of you would be smelling like each other and sex for at least a week- a part of you wished it was longer. That he’d walk around and have everyone in his vicinity know he was yours.

Your hand slipped under his boxers, pulling them down until they were about mid thigh. Moving past his hard, twitching cock and straight down to his hole. Soaking wet, you barely touched it before he squirted more slick onto your hand. Still with your face pressed to his neck, you chuckled.

“I barely even touched you..” you muttered.

With a growl, he said, “fuck off.”

You kissed his neck, right over the scent gland, making it flare up again.

“Make me, cowboy.”

You didn't give him time to respond, pushing two fingers into his hole, feeling him clench around them. His hips shifted against yours as you massaged his walls, listening to him grunt, and purr, and moan. Rubbing his cock against your still clothed one. Little sits of pre-cum beading at the tip and smearing on your pants.

He could feel pressure building in his stomach, it was sudden and unstoppable- not like he’d want it to-  with little warning to you, his body tensed hard, his legs closing around your body and his arms holding you in an almost crushing grip. He whined, bucking hard and fast against you- trying to fuck your fingers deeper into him as cum short from his cock, staining your pants and both your shirts. 

Fuck, that only made things worse. Once his arms were loose enough around you, you pulled back, sitting up and looking at the mess between the two of you. His legs were wide open, one hooked on the back of the couch, the other hanging off the side. He stared at you, pupils blown wide, thrusting his hips against nothing in a desperate attempt to feel something.

“More.”  He growled out.

“You want more?” You asked in a teasing tone, moving your hands to rest on his thighs.

He nodded.

You hummed softly, leaning down and kissing his cheek, “Ok sweetheart, I’ll give you more.”

He purred at the nickname. Letting his eyes close he listened to you move, hearing each article of clothes hit the floor, your scent got stronger and he breathed it in as deeply as he could.

Logan gasped when you pressed the tip of your cock against his hole, trying to press against it only for you to pull back.

“Relax.” You said, running your hands over his thighs I what he figured was supposed to be a soothing motion be it only made things worse

-you were right there, just a little bit more, please-

“You’d think after being alive for 200 years you’d learn some patients.” You pushed in slowly, watching as his mouth fell open in a silent moan. Pushing in inch by inch, feeling how hot he was around you, squeezing you tight. Finally, you were fully pushed inside him. His hands grinned the couch cushions so tight you thought they might tear.

Teeth clenched hard and chest heaving, he nearly shouted, “fucking move!”, after a second, “please.”

You abided, pulling half way out, giving him a shallow thrust. Over and over, pulling out farther and farther, then burying your cock back into his hole until you were slamming into him burying you cock deep inside him every time.

Shame seemed to stop existing for him as he moaned your name loud and clear, then,

“More Alpha, come on- please.”

He said it so easily that he almost didn’t realize it until you paused, looking down at him, a nearly unreadable expression in your face.

Panting, you said, “say that again.”

So gone, so beyond horny that his mind had slipped away from him, catching up moments later.

“More, y/n-“ you pinched his side, a wide grin on your face.

“That’s not what you said.”

He huffed, “fuck you.”

You gave him a slow, soft thrust, “come on, you already said it, it just wanna hear it again.”.

He glared up at you, resisting the urge to tell you to get to hell.

“Please..Alpha.”

The look on your face made it worth it, you pulled back until just the tip of your cock remained inside. Logan knew you weren’t going to pull out now, so he braces himself for the hard pounding he knew was inevitable. When it did come he put a couple claw shaped holes in your couch.

His body bounced hard with every thrust. Listening to you growl and pant as you hammered into him. This was miles better than any dream or fantasy. Holding on to the couch for dear life.

Minutes passed and you showed no sign of slowing down, even as another orgasm shot through Logan’s body, you didn’t stop, looking down at the cum splattered across his chest.

“My pretty omega-“ you panted, you felt Logan tighten around you, “want me to fill you with my cum, huh?”

Logan, covered in his own sweat, slick, and cum, barely able to think, nodded.

He could feel your knot starting to swell, it took more and more force to push into him- it made you slower, but you still slammed into him just as hard. Your pre-cum leaked into his hole, your own orgasm moments away and Logan could tell.

A little dizzy, he put his hands on your shoulder, trying to guide you down but you wouldn't go- even though he was dazed and ,for the most part, satiated, there was still something he wanted.

“Y/n, mhhm- Alpha- mark me-”

It wasn't a request, it was an order, and you couldn't find it in yourself to deny him.

You couldn't think of the repercussions, what this would mean for either of your futures, what it would do to your still extremely new relationship, not because you didn't want to, but you physically couldn't, the idea of making him yours was too strong.

You leaned down and pressed your teeth into his bare skin. You could only taste his blood for a short moment, the skin healed as fast as it broke- instead of perfectly clear skin being left there was a scar. Before you could even begin to wonder how that could happen you came hard, knot swelling, keeping you locked deep inside of Logan as you finished inside of him. 

You pressed a kiss on his cheek, he blinked tiredly, a small grin on his face.

“What?” you yawned, feeling exhausted.

“I owe Wade an apology..”

You groaned, flopping down onto his chest.

“Don't bring him up now,”

He laughed, “‘ thought you liked him?”

“Yeah, just not while my dick is still in you, you can talk all you want about Wade in 30 to 40 minutes when my knot goes down.” you said, wrapping your arms around you to the best of your ability. 

He did the same, “Fine.”

~~~~~~~

Logan’s heat lasted about a week, he stayed with you the whole time, partially because he really didn’t want to deal with Wade, but mostly because the two of you could not stop fucking. He was your mate after all, what were you supposed to do, let him suffer? In the past 6 days you and Logan have fucked a total of 9 times- 

-10 if he didn’t stop kissing you neck right fucking down.

“Logan, I have to go to work,” You said in a stern tone that only made him want you more.

“Call off.”

“I’ve already been off for six days because of you.”

He really didn’t care- you could feel him leave a hickey on your neck- as though you weren’t already covered in hundreds of bites and bruises because of him.

“I’m going to lose my job-”

“Come on, please?” He said quietly.

You took a deep breath in-

“What the fuck, I leave for a couple of days and you house break my roommate!”

Oh god, it's entirely too early for this.

You don’t know where Wade came from, but now he’s in your kitchen with you and Logan.

“Kidding, I’ve been listening to you two fuck all week. You-” He puts a finger in your chest, “-are a real freak. And I thought I was a dirty dog, you are really something else.”

“Fuck off, Wade.” Logan said, seems like the mere presence of Wade turned him off.

“And you, I don’t even know what to say to you- You think you know a guy, live with him for a year and he just doesn’t tell you he’s an omega, that's considered extremely rude in most places. You don’t have to worry about anyone else being surprised, I’m pretty sure they heard you begging for Y/n sweet, succulent dick all the way in Europe.”

You stood, grabbing your keys off the counter- you were not staying and watching Wade get torn to shreds.

You turned to Logan to see that he was thoroughly pissed off.

“Don't get blood on my floor.” You kissed his cheek, knowing it was very likely  that he was going to get blood on every surface. “Have fun.”

You walked away, hearing a loud thump behind you and deciding that you weren’t going to pay it any attention, even as Wade’s high pitched screams met your ears. Reaching the front door you saw it in pieces again. That was a problem for later, for now you needed to get to work and attempt to explain to your manager why you’ve been MIA.

Request are closed

[thealtoduck]

*In a 5 way phone call conversation with the outlaws + Tim*

Jason: Sex is not dating.

Y/n, completely oblivious: If it were, Jason and I would be dating.

Kori: …

Roy: …

Tim: …

Jason: …Anyways so-

[cornsoupflavour]

New Collaboration (Twice NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

TWICE Mina Myoi x Sub!Male Reader

Tags: 4.5k words, age-gap, multiple creampies, possible breeding/impreg

While at a popular variety show, you found yourself backstage waiting for your cue. It was a chance for you to perform alongside your favorite artists and one of them was Mina from TWICE. The atmosphere was tense, a mix of adrenaline and nerves. You'd only seen her through watching other variety shows or managing to catch brief glimpses of her at awards shows. But there she was, standing amongst the other TWICE girls.

You could see the rest of them leave for the bathroom as Mina stayed behind to watch over their belongings and their cue. You decided that this was your moment to make the connection. You walked up to her, braving through your nerves and fear.

"Hey, I'm Y/N," you said, extending your hand to Mina. She looked up from her script, her eyes wide as she recognized you. She smiled warmly, shaking your hand. "Nice to meet you in person. I'm Mina. I've been following your debut for a while and I'm a huge fan of your work."

You smiled, your cheeks turning a bright red. Mina Myoi, popular idol from TWICE knows of your work? Your eyelids fluttered, slightly taken aback by her open admiration. "Y–You know about me? I'm so honoured! I'm such a big fan of you...r work with TWICE and MiSaMo!" Nice save.

Mina giggled at your obvious nervousness and the two of you began chatting. The topics ranged from the things you'd be doing on the show to what you think of the industry so far. The nerves set in as you realized how close you were to performing. You found yourself gradually moving closer to her. Mina appeared to be doing the same, her eyes locked onto yours, neither of you aware of the distance between you closing.

The sound of a bell ringing in the distance broke the trance, signaling that it was time for you to take the stage. You took a deep breath, glancing at Mina before giving her a confident nod. "Good luck," she whispered, a playful smile on her lips as the other TWICE girls returned to stand around her.

You gave her a nervous but thankful smile and sauntered off, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. As the show went on, you subtly glanced at Mina a few times, her beauty somehow shining through all eight other members. It was as if no one else existed for those very brief moments. You admired how she commanded the stage, the energy she radiated. The feeling only grew as you made your way backstage after your performances.

"You were amazing out there!" Mina congratulated, rushing over to you as soon as you were both backstage. She hugged you tightly, her scent enveloping you as she lifted you off the ground slightly. "I'm so proud of you."

You blushed, the sincerity in her eyes warming you from the inside out. As the other TWICE girls went to rest in the designated backstage room, Mina stayed with you. The two of you sat down in a secluded area and ended up chatting for hours. 

Your heart swelled as you struggled to contain yourself. You got to, not only talk with your all–time favourite idol, but she hugged you really nice and tight too. As the night began to wind down, you found yourselves alone, the cast and crew dispersing to prepare for their next filming. That was when the topic of age differences came up naturally.

"So, you're, what, 19?" Mina asked with a playful grin. You nodded, chuckling at the surprise on her face. "And here I thought you were a little older. You're quite mature for your age."

"T–Thank you," you replied with a humble smile. "You're...?"

"The ripe age of 27," Mina said, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at you. "But I guess it's the experience that counts, right?"

"27?! No way! I could've sworn you were my age," you teased before continuing, "but yeah, you could say that." You couldn't help but let your gaze linger on her face for a while. Such smooth skin... such pretty lips... You stared at her for a considerable amount of time before snapping out. "You've been in the industry a while, and I could learn a lot from you."

Mina's eyes sparkled, and she leaned in closer. "Anything you want to know, you just have to ask." Her lips grazed your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine as she whispered, "And sometimes lessons are best learned by doing."

The closeness between the two of you was undeniable, and the air around you felt heavy with tension. You subconsciously leaned towards her as she did the same. The scent of her perfume mingled with the lingering smoky scent of the stage, creating an intoxicating mix. You could feel your heart racing, the heat in your cheeks increasing, turning them red.

Mina's hand brushed against yours, and your eyes met, locked in a heated gaze. Both your lips were inches away from one another, something in you just wanted to pounce forward and claim her in a deep and passionate makeout. The weight of the moment was suffocating, yet exhilarating. The silence stretched, and the tension built, growing thicker by the second.

Just as your chest tightened, and it felt like your heart would pound right out of your chest, the sound of voices echoed through the backstage area, snapping you both out of your trance. Mina quickly leaned back back, the grin on her face replacing the intensity that had been there just moments before.

"Guess I better get going," she said, straightening her outfit. "The girls are gonna get cranky if I leave them for too long... but you've got a bright future ahead of you. I'm looking forward to seeing what you do next."

She gave you a final warm smile before she slipped away, leaving you standing there, your mind reeling with the encounter. The memory of Mina's voice, her touch, the intensity of those stolen moments would linger, pushing you to dream and fantasize about what could be. Your admiration for your favourite idol might have just developed into a full blown crush.

Months passed, and you found yourself 'crossing paths' with Mina at various events. Crossing paths in the sense that you'd steal brief glances at her while in a massive crowd.  But each time, the lingering eye contact and flirtatious smiles sent your heart racing. You found yourself always glancing toward her, trying to catch a glimpse of her in between your own performances. There was something about her that drew you in, and you wondered if it was mutual.

After one of M Countdown's award shows, you found yourselves waiting backstage once again. The anticipation of the night's events, and the memories of your previous encounter, made your nerves skyrocket. Mina spotted you and walked over with a bright smile, separating herself from the rest of TWICE momentarily. Her confidence commanded the space around her.

"Oh my, you look amazing tonight," she complimented, her eyes looking you up and down before settling and on yours and never leaving. "It's been a while since we've seen each other. How have you been?"

"I've been doing pretty well," you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. "A little busy, but it's been great. How about you?"

Mina laughed softly. "Y'know, same old, same old. But I'm glad to see you doing well. You've got a lot of fans out there rooting for you."

"Likewise for you too. Hell, I'll always root for you... and TWICE... yeah."

Mina let out a sultry giggle as the two of you began chatting about various things, from the music you both enjoyed to the latest scandal in the industry. Mina's hand brushed against yours as she gestured, and a jolt shot through you, making you wish that contact would linger. You could feel the tension build between you, the air thick with unspoken desires.

"You know, we should do something together," Mina suggested, her voice soft and sultry. "A collaboration, maybe. I bet it would be amazing. Fans might like that as well, what do you think?"

"T–That would be incredible, I'd love to," you stammered, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Your eyes met hers, and the intensity was palpable. You could feel every nerve in your body tingling, as if electrified by her presence.

A few more comments were exchanged, small jokes shared, and the tension between the two of you grew. Mina leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I think I'll be staying up late tonight, and the girls are gonna be out... Want to join me?"

Your breath hitched, and you could only manage a nod, your mind reeling at the possibility. The heat between you was almost unbearable, and it felt like the world had slowed down, leaving the two of you to exist in a bubble.

"Excellent, I'll see you back here once the place has cleared up a little~"

The conversation ebbed away, replaced by the chaos and noise of the after–event. The weight of the moment hung in the air, heavy and thick, as Mina departed with a wink and a smile.

The night continued to unfold, and you found yourself seeking her out, unable to shake the pull she had on you. Your heart raced with anticipation as you waited for the event to come to a close, dying to deepen connection with her.

The event finally came to an end, and the guests began to disperse, leaving behind the echoes of their laughter and conversations. You met with Mina at the decided spot before she led you back to the hotel she was staying at. Her hand clasped yours as you walked through the empty halls.

"I think a collaboration between us could work perfectly," Mina said as she unlocked the door to her hotel room, gesturing for you to enter. "You have quite the unique sound, and I think our voices would mesh well together."

As you crossed the threshold, the room was dimly lit, the only light filtering in from the city skyline outside. Mina closed the door behind you, the quiet of the moment hanging in the air.

"Have a seat and we could talk about it. Could I get you anything to drink?" she suggested, motioning to the couch. You shook your head as you sat down, your heart thudding in your chest.

"So... what kind of vibe are you going for?" you asked, trying to keep your mind focused on the task at hand, the desire for her still palpable.

"Hmm... How about something that showcases both our styles," Mina replied, taking a seat beside you. "Maybe, a mix of hip–hop and R&B. The lyrics could focus on breaking free from societal expectations and finding one's true self. The chorus should be catchy yet poignant, with a hard–hitting beat."

The two of you continued to discuss ideas, concepts, and possible producers for the collaboration. The conversation flowed effortlessly, your minds mingling as easily as your bodies seemed to desire. As you talked, Mina's hand crept closer to yours, her fingers brushing against yours every now and then.

"Okay! Now that that's settled, I'm really excited to get started on this," you said, the passion in your voice reflecting your feelings for the project, as well as the woman beside you.

"Me too," Mina replied, her voice low and sultry. "Let's celebrate the start of our collaboration~"

Her hand found yours and her thumb began to trace circles on the back of your hand, the contact both calming and arousing. You could feel the heat radiating from her touch as she leaned in, her lips inches from yours. Your eyes were locked on her lips... something about them looked so... delicious... 

"To new beginnings," she whispered before pressing her lips to yours. The kiss was soft, tender, and as it deepened, it grew more intense. Mina's hand traveled up your arm, her fingers lightly brushing against your neck.

You could feel her breasts pressing against your chest as she climbed atop you, the heat of her body igniting a fire within you. As the kiss continued, her hand slid under your shirt, tracing gentle circles on your skin. The pleasure from her touch sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel your body responding to her touch, your arousal growing with each passing moment.

"Are you ready for our next chapter?" Mina asked, her breath hot against your ear as she nibbled on your lobe.

Your body ached for more, more of this stunning older woman you've admired for so long. The beginning of this new chapter had you both on the edge, ready to embark on a journey of passion and collaboration.

Nodding, you surrendered yourself to the moment, your body eagerly responding to Mina's touch. She guided your hand to her breast, letting you feel her firmness through her top. Her nipple hardened against your touch, the silky texture of her shirt doing little to dampen the sensations.

"Mhmm, just like that," Mina moaned softly, her fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your shirt. She peeled it away, her eyes fixated on your body as she revealed it to her.

The heat between the two of you grew, and Mina's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles that sent shivers through your spine. You let out a soft moan, your body arching into her touch, the need for more becoming almost unbearable.

"So responsive," Mina whispered, her voice laced with desire as she began to unbutton your pants, her nimble fingers sliding beneath the waistband.

"God– fuck, Mina–" you let out a loud moan as her hand found you, her touch adding fuel to the fire already burning bright within you. She began to stroke you through your underwear, her thumb teasing the tip. The rhythm of her strokes increased, and you found yourself writhing beneath her touch, unable to contain your pleasure.

"Mina..." you groaned, your voice thick with arousal. "I want more..."

With a wicked smile, Mina stood up, pulling you with her. She guided you to the bed, her hand stilling on your chest as she undressed. The sight of her slowly freeing from her clothes was intoxicating, and you let out a low, appreciative moan.

"Mina... The woman that you are..." you exhaled, your voice pleading.

"Patience, my dear," she said, her voice sultry and full of promise. "I have a feeling our collaboration will be a hit."

With that, she climbed onto the bed, leaving you hanging, eager for more. The anticipation and the teasing had you on the edge, desperate for the physical expression of your newfound partnership.

Mina laid herself down on the bed, her body twisting and turning ever so slightly, making your cock visibly harder and harder each second. She seductively sat up and beckoned you with her finger, inviting you closer. You climbed onto the bed next to her, your eyes taking in the sight that is Mina Myoi.

"Come here, baby," Mina whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "Let's make some music together."

You couldn't resist, moving closer, and before long, your lips met hers once more, the kiss deepening, your tongues entwining. Mina's hand found its way to your now hard erection, gripping it firmly, her thumb gliding over the head.

"Oh, Y/N, you're such a good boy. You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" she purred, her voice a mix of lust and admiration. "I can't wait to feel you inside me."

You fumbled with your pants, quickly shedding them and your underwear. The anticipation built, and you found yourself hovering over her, your cock at the entrance of her wetness. Mina's legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Please, I need you– Mommy Mina needs you, baby," she moaned, the vulnerability and desire in her voice sending shivers down your spine.

Slowly, you began to enter her, the tight warmth enveloping you. Mina's moans grew louder, filling the room. The age gap between the two of you seemed to melt away, replaced by the shared experience of lust and desire. Within seconds, you had bottomed her out.

"Fuck– I didn't think you'd be this big, Y/N. I can feel your cock throbbing inside me," she cried out, her nails digging into your back. "Harder!"

You complied, beginning to thrust into her, the rhythm growing more intense as you both found your pace. You could feel the slick wetness enveloping you, the pleasure building with each movement. Mina's moans grew louder, her head thrown back, her body arching to meet your thrusts.

"Oh, Y/N, baby, you feel so good," Mina moaned, her voice thick with lust. "You're so hard... So deep... Ravage my pussy, baby~"

Her hands found your chest, fingers tracing circles, eliciting a shiver from your spine. She began to rock her hips, her movements rough and desperate. But after a while, she made you slow down. It was as if she was savoring the sensation, prolonging the inevitable.

"Mina, you feel amazing," you groaned, your voice rough with desire. "I–I need more of you."

Mina's movements grew more urgent, her hips slamming back against yours. You could feel your own body responding, the pleasure building once more.

"God, Y/N, I'm close... Don't stop, Y/N," she urged, her voice breathless. "Give it to me."

Mina's body shuddered against yours, the intensity building between you both. Her movements grew more frenzied, her moans more desperate. You could feel the pressure inside you, the need to release, to fill her, to claim her as your own.

"Y/N– gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... I'm so close," Mina cried out, her voice thick with lust.

You could feel her pussy tightening around you, squeezing every inch of your length, spurring you on, driving you closer to the edge. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies connecting, the wet slap of skin against skin, the cries of pleasure.

"Mina, I can't hold back," you groaned, your voice thick with desire.

Mina's nails dug into your back, her body arching, inviting you to take her to the precipice.

"Y/N, give it to me, fill me up," she urged, her voice thick with need.

With a final, powerful thrust, you let go, your release spilling into her, the pleasure washing over you like a tidal wave. Mina's body followed, her own climax hitting her like a freight train, her body convulsing, her release coating your length.

"Oh, Y/N, yes, I'm cumming– Y/N! FUCK!" she cried out, her body arching, her nails digging into your back some more. "Fuck, yes, that feels so good."

The two of you clung to each other, your bodies trembling, the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Mina's breathing grew heavy, her body still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm.

"That was... wow," she panted, her voice thick with satisfaction.

You found yourself wrapped in her embrace, the two of you still joined, the sweat glistening on both your bodies. Mina's hand found your cheek, her thumb brushing away a droplet of sweat.

"Y/N... that was amazing," she breathed, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. "...but I need more. Mommy Mina needs more~"

Before you could even catch your breath, Mina rolled you onto your back, her body straddling yours. She began to grind her hips against you, her wetness coating your still–hard cock. The sight of her, the feeling of her body against yours, sent shivers down your spine.

"I want to feel you all night," Mina purred, her voice dripping with lust. "You're going to breed me, baby. Make me a real mommy, alright?"

Her words sent an electric jolt through you, the idea of impregnating this woman, this idol, almost too much to bear. Mina positioned herself above you, her wetness enveloping your cock as she sank down onto you.

"You're so big for me, baby... I'm so full," she moaned, her breasts swaying above you as she began to ride you leisurely, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Mina–" you gasped, your voice thick with desire. "Please, don't stop–"

Mina's hips began to move faster, her moans growing louder, filling the room. You could feel the pleasure building once more, the thrill of being at her mercy intoxicating.

"Mina, I'm so close... Fuck– you're so tight," you warned, your body tensing with anticipation.

"Cum for me, Y/N," she ordered, her voice a mix of desire and command. "Give it to me. Fill me to the brim."

You couldn't resist, the order sending you over the edge. Your hips bucked against her, the pleasure cascading through you as you came once more, filling her even more deeply than before.

"M–MINA~!" you cried out, your body trembling. As you both came down from the high, Mina's body shuddered, releasing her own pleasure in waves. Her juices coated your cock, the warmth and tightness of her pussy as she came almost overwhelming. You could feel her squeezing you, milking your cock as she rode out her orgasm.

"Oh god, you're incredible..." Mina panted, her eyes locked with yours, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax.

"Mina... I... mmf..." you whispered, your own breath coming in ragged pants.

But before you could fully recover, Mina's hand found your softening cock, stroking you gently until it began to harden once more. Her eyes were filled with lust, the desire for more evident in every line of her body.

"You're not done with me yet, are you?" she purred, the promise of more in her voice.

You exhaustedly shook your head, your cock returning to its hardened stature. Mina took the lead, turning over, her body arching, inviting you to take her from behind.

"Get on your knees, baby," she commanded, her voice a mix of lust and desire. "Fuck me like the breeding stallion you are."

You obeyed, positioning yourself behind her, your cock meeting her wet entrance once more. Mina's nails dug into the sheets as you began to thrust into her from behind, the new angle setting off a fresh wave of pleasure.

"Oh god, yessss~ Y/N, you feel so good... fuck me... impregnate me," Mina moaned, her voice thick with lust.

Her words sent shivers down your spine, the taboo nature of the idea driving you wild. The thought of breeding Mina, this stunning woman, filled you with a primal drive.

"Mina, I'm going to cum again–" you warned, your voice thick with pleasure as you began to thrust harder, faster.

Mina's moans grew louder, more desperate. "Cum inside me, baby. Anhh... Fill mommy up~"

You didn't need any further encouragement. Your thrusts grew more frenzied, the pleasure building once more. The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies connecting, the wet slap of skin against skin, and the cries of pleasure.

"Oh, god, Mina–!" you cried out, your body trembling as you poured yourself into her once more.

As your release filled her, Mina's body shuddered, her own pleasure peaking, the waves of orgasm washing over her.

"Oh, Y/N, baby, yes... Y/N, you're going to make me a mommy, aren't you? I can feel it in every thrust. I'm all yours, baby~ Take me." she cried out, her body arching as she came.

"You're mine," she whispered, her body still straddling yours. "And I'm yours..."

"But I want more," she continued, her voice thick with lust. "I'm not done with you yet, Y/N."

Mina disentangled herself from your embrace, her eyes filled with desire as she shifted to straddle you, sitting on your lap. Her hands roamed over your chest, her lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You could taste the lingering sweetness of their previous lovemaking, sending shivers down your spine.

"I want you inside me again, Y/N," Mina breathed, her voice heavy with lust.

You were so obviously drained and tired... But Mina Myoi is asking YOU for a god–knows–what round... You'd be insane to turn that down... You helped her lower herself back onto your cock, the familiar warmth enveloping you as she took you in. This time, Mina chose a more sensual pace, rocking her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Her breasts swayed with each movement, her nipples hard as they brushed against your chest.

"Oh, Y/N, you feel so good– Just like that–" she moaned, her voice thick with desire. "Your cock is perfect."

Mina leaned forward, trailing kisses along your jawline, her lips finding your earlobe, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. The sensation only served to heighten the pleasure of her movements.

"I want to feel you deep inside me, Y/N. Breed me like the wild animal you are. Bottom. Me. Out."

The words sent a jolt through you, the primal desire to claim her as your own pulsing through your veins. You reached up, grabbing Mina's hips, helping you both find a faster, more vigorous pace.

"Mina, I... I'm getting close again," you warned, your breath coming in ragged pants.

Mina's moans grew louder, her body arching with each thrust. "Don't stop, Y/N. Fill me up. Knock me up, baby~"

You couldn't hold back any longer. Your thrusts grew more urgent, the pleasure building once more. Mina's nails dug into your chest as her own climax approached.

"Oh, god, Y/N, I'm... I'm cumming– I'M CUMMING~!" she cried out, her body tensing, her pussy tightening around you as her release washed over her.

You couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, powerful thrust, you bottomed her out once more as you proceeded to cum inside her, the sensation of flooding her to the brim spurring you on.

"Oh fuck– Mina–!" you cried out, your body trembling.

The two of you clung to each other, riding out the aftershocks of your pleasure. Mina collapsed against your chest as you flopped backwards onto the bed. Her breathing was heavy, her body still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm.

"Let's just lay here, Y/N," she whispered, her hand reaching up to caress your cheek. "Let's just enjoy each other for now... You made Mommy Mina very happy today..."

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into a hot, passionate makeout, savoring the taste of each other's lips.

As the two of you lay entwined, sweat glistening on your bodies, your hearts beating in unison. The bedroom was filled with the sounds of your breathing, the aftermath of your passionate encounter settling around you. And in that moment, there was nothing but the two of you, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion.

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[ New Collaboration Pt. 1 – See Pt. 2 ]

[lxvvie]

Freely using Soap:

Johnny who abhors the thought of wearing a lot, if any, clothes around the house is open and willing for your pleasure. And his.

You make no effort to hide how much you ogle his body, and he fuckin' loves it, Bonnie. All the more reason to show off the numerous hickeys you left on him. His pride and joy are the ones on his inner thighs and chest.

Soap who bites down on his lip to keep from painting your pretty face with his cum. He can't touch you. He can't move. He can't even cum. You won't let him. He just has to sit there as you suck him, as you kiss his leaking head, and as you edge him. Christ, what're you doin' to him, Bonnie?

Soap actually painting the shower wall with cum because you couldn't wait for him to finish showering after working out. You just had to jump his bones and stroke his cock after seeing those sweaty muscles.

Clutching his hair as you grind against his mouth. Fuck, Johnny's such a whore, kissing, sucking, feasting on you like a man starved and parched, wanting you to cum all over his face. Johnny groans when you grip his hair tightly and pull his face away until you calm down. When it's time, you're back to grinding on his face and it's off to the races again. Rinse and repeat.

Flooding Soap's text messages with all the lewd and dirty shit you wanna do to him because holy fuck does he inspire the slut in you to come out, and the response you get from Johnny?

Please

Kissing that one spot on his neck because you know he'll melt if you do. Bonus points if you come up behind Johnny, do it, and he practically falls back against you. Cheers, Bonnie.

Similarly, grabbing Soap by his hair and pulling him into a kiss. A kiss full of tongue and biting his lower lip and leaving a mark, just fucking sloppy and passionate.

Riding Soap's cock because you've had a terrible, no good, shitty day, and he’s right there for the taking. Fucking yourself to orgasm, ruining his, and leaving Soap a frustrated mess who's left wanting more. Fuck. Do it again, Bonnie.

Finally getting around to fucking Johnny like you said you would. Except you don't and make him do the work. Johnny who rides you and can't touch himself but settles for the next best thing. Johnny who intertwines your hands with his and rides that cock home, groaning, whimpering, moaning against your lips as his cum coats your stomach. You thought that was it, Johnny? Who the fuck told you to stop riding?

[eyelambspider]

𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝. - König

Part One || Part Two

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : The WX 400 model, or König, had been sitting in a Cyberlife store for nearly six months without so much as a glance from customers. He had been repurposed from a hard laborer to a sort of domestic care-giver... but the thing was, consumers only wanted the newer models. Until you came by. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.2 k 𝐚/𝐧 : consider this my masterpiece, probably will write a second part 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : fluff, hurt/comfort(?), domestic fluff

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄. From the sleek tiled floors, to the large window panes that were cleaned daily, to the Androids that stood on display within.

On white pedestals, circled with fluorescent tags and holograms indicating their model numbers and generic purposes: Domestic housekeepers, caretakers, companions. Smaller synthetic machines that had friendly faces and sparkling eyes. Built for a life amongst humans.

He wasn't built for that. No.

His slate-colored eyes had watched for months, lingering over Cyberlife's newest models at the front of the store. A blank expression as each one smiled hopefully. Perhaps something they were programmed to do. To appear friendly?

He considered it a possibility, sure, but the 'front of the store' androids were a stark contrast to his own model.

The WX-series of androids had been built with only one purpose: hard labor, or to put it more simply, construction work.

When customers came into the store they only wanted one thing: a shiny new companion.

Everyday the eyes of those strangers would frown when they saw him. Hardly sparing the WX a glance before they turned around and considered an AX 400 instead.

An android built for housework and taking care of children, with a soft round face and a smile that reached all the way up to her kind blue eyes...

It seemed a diluted plausibility that one day the repurposed WX would eventually find a purpose. With everyday he inched closer to the possibility of being discarded. Simply unwanted.

Until a particularly cloudy day in May, one of the stares had caught his attention, even in his low power mode. Only able to shift his tired seeming eyes and move at a slow pace. Meeting that oddly new curious gaze of yours. The eyes of a stranger finally lingering on him.

Him.

"Excuse me?" You held your hand up sheepishly, asking for assistance from one of the android retailers, a young looking man with a head of soft brown hair and a blue circular LED on his right temple. The holographic label on his chest reading: Ethan.

"Hello, How can I help you?" Ethan stepped next to your side with a light smile.

You pointed to the WX in front of you, feeling a bit silly for even asking but... "Could you tell me about this one?"

The android salesman nodded, hands folded politely behind him, following your gaze towards the decommissioned android, unable to show the usual grimace humans showed the WX.

"Of course," he agreed easily, "This particular model is a WX 400, a decommissioned laborer. They aren't often sold in stores, but if you are interested I could tell you more about it."

The WX watched you nod, his eyes flickering occasionally between you and the sales-android.

"Why is he decommissioned?" you asked quietly, letting the question linger momentarily before Ethan perked up again, unbiased.

"The WX 400 was only decommissioned in its primary purpose, which was doing manual labor," the mechanical man explained with a synthetic smile, gesturing with his hands for your eyes to follow. "It works perfectly fine, and besides some damage to its synthetic skin and body, and a few replaced parts," he managed a soft light-hearted chuckle, "This model works perfectly fine, just not for its intended heavy lifting purposes. It will work perfectly fine for housework. Is that what you were looking for?"

As the sales-android considered the new possibility, he prompted a new question: "We have many other fine models if you are interested in something else."

The statement, whilst a little profound to you, meant next to nothing to the two androids who patiently awaited your answer.

"I was looking for someone to help around the house," you confirm.

The WX before you, nearing seven foot tall easily in the display case, glanced down at you. Unmoving, but like all androids, his eyes held an uncanny humanity within those blue depths.

He could see the consideration on your face. The way your eyes wearily, almost tenderly, traced the lines and deep scars on his synthetic skin. Deep grooves and lacerations running from his fingers, up his strong forearms and disappearing under the fabric of his standard Cyberlife shirt.

Even the androids face, while once maybe even considered handsome, had a deep scar running over its left side. Over his dirty blonde brow and high cheekbone, tracing over his lips to his chin.

It was a wonder he even worked properly, and the unspoken question must've been written all over your face again.

"The WX has had his diagnostics run perfectly well. I assure you the android itself works perfectly fine," Ethan smiled boyishly when you blushed.

"I don't doubt it," you assured him with an unintentionally adorable grin. "I've just... I've never seen an android like him," you admitted softly, those soft eyes meeting the WX's again.

He was looking right at you again.

Immediately your gaze dropped down shyly, unintentionally reading the blue holographic labels that surrounded the short white pillar he stood on.

"He has a name?" You asked, glancing over to Ethan for confirmation.

"Of course, but if you'd like to reset it-"

"No," you stopped him, feeling a bit more confident than you had when you first entered the store.

"König sounds fine to me."

König watched from his display, with a hint of utter- well... what would you call this?

Disbelief? Surprise?

Surprise when your complexion lit with a smile. Surprise when you said his name and turned to walk with the other android to the front of the store? Surprise as his eyes trailed after your form, unable to comprehend you.

For what reason could you possibly want a repurposed android like him?

It didn't make sense in the slightest, and although he watched you, he felt lost, considering possibilities that felt underwhelming in their answers.

His price was lower than others for being damaged. But so many had passed him by.

It was something König considered for a while, never finding a suitable answer until a new initiative popped across his sensors. Jolting him awake once more.

He was registered now to you. Your name popping across his vision like a directive.

"Thank you," you waved to the man who had helped you with a soft smile, getting a vaguely surprised gesture from him.

"Oh- You're very welcome!" Ethan smiled back and watched for a moment longer as you headed up to König, whom at that moment, was given back full control over his mechanical body. Unlocked from his low power mode.

The blue Thirium that cooled and powered his circuits rushed back into him. Circling through his veins and giving him back full control of his body. The world no longer running in slow motion.

König's hands lifted up slowly. The WX inspecting his hands and flexing his fingers into gentle balls. The two of you watched in silent awe as the large android moved once more, no longer destined for a Cyberlife disposal facility... but for.

König's vision refocused as you reached out. Your tiny hand taking one of his. Warm, and unmarred in contrast to his, and he could feel the almost imperceptible beating of your pulse beneath the contact.

"Come on," you smiled, not quite helping him from the stand, but guiding him down the small step. "I'll show you how to get back home, König," you mused, feeling the large androids cut up hand grip yours a bit tighter.

Next >

© Eyelambspider. I only post here on Tumblr! könig photo credit to my friend @koharu-rk800

[undercoveravenger]

Highlander

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x Male!Reader

Summary: Johnny’s gay awakening being Price’s adopted son, the brother of the girl he’s engaged to.

Warnings: Non-time-specific early Scotland setting, probable historical inaccuracies, Soap doesn’t realize he’s queer someone points it out

-----

Johnny MacTavish is nothing if not a good son. He’s spent his whole life training to take over his father’s lordship when he is ready to step down, developing proficiency with any weapon he could get his hands on and sitting through hundreds of dreadfully boring diplomacy lessons. He’s gone to the balls and events without complaint, and allowed himself to be shown off like some prized sheep. He’s done everything that’s been expected from him without protest.

Until now, at least, when his parents sit him down and tell him he’ll have to marry before he takes his father’s place. He understands, objectively, that a marriage like this would help solidify his clan’s alliance with their neighbors and loyalty like that could help prevent a war in the future. It’s the right call, even if he doesn’t like it.

That begrudging acceptance doesn’t mean he’s excited though, dread pooling in his stomach as he stands beside his parents and awaits his new fiancee’s arrival. Eventually a carriage comes into sight, pulled by a pair of large shire horses and accompanied by a trio of riders. 

The carriage comes to a stop and Johnny can’t even look at the woman he’s betrothed to or his soon-to-be father in law as they climb down from the carriage because he’s too distracted watching you.

There’s something about the way your shoulders flex as you dismount your horse, trousers pulling tight around your thighs and calves and Johnny’s dying a bit on the inside at the thought of you wearing a kilt.

He wrenches himself back to the present with his almost father-in-law, a sizable British fellow with an impressive spread of facial hair, who tells Johnny to call him Price and claps him on the shoulder. Price introduces him to his fiancee, a slight little thing named Abigail who seemed to have inherited her father’s blue eyes and not much else, and then nods toward you and the two other riders, one about his height with rich tawny skin and golden eyes and the other a veritable mountain of a man with a skull mask hiding his face. 

“These’re my boys,” Price says, which really doesn’t explain all that much about how the lot of you are connected to him, “You can call ‘em Gaz, Ghost, ‘n Reaper.”

And just like that, he has something to call you. Reaper.

-----

It’s the jeering that draws him in, the raucous calls of people who know each other far too well getting under each other’s skin and digging in with barbed words and sharp tongues, leads him through the courtyard where you square off against the behemoth - Ghost, Johnny remembers.

He’s got no idea about either man’s skill level, but he’s surprised to see you still standing against an opponent as large as Ghost. You’re bleeding, he notices with a start, there’s a sticky red trail of it running from your hairline down the side of your face to drip from your jaw. You couldn’t possibly take another hit like that, not with the way you’re swaying on your feet, and it’s not until Ghost is charging, barreling down on you with all the incoming force of a tidal wave, that he sees the act drop.

You’re sure on your feet again, dropping low as you brace for impact, and Ghost comes to a skidding stop. Johnny watches, awed, as the tables turn and your muscles flex as you begin to overpower Ghost and force him, inch by hard-fought inch, out of the sparring ring.

Just like that it’s over and Ghost has a fond arm around your shoulders as he drags you in to ruffle your hair and Gaz comes bounding over from where he’d been watching at the sidelines to press money into your waiting hands. Johnny slips away, the vision of your strength and the sound of your laughter playing on repeat in his mind, utterly confused by the feeling in his chest.

-----

Johnny’s still not sure what’s wrong with him when he goes to sit at the bank of the loch, long after sleep had claimed everyone else. He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting there, hiding out in the dark, when you stumble upon him.

“Oh,” you say, clearly as surprised to see him as he is to see you. “Didnae realize anyone else would be out. I’ll leave you be,” you shoot him a grin and move to leave and he finds himself speaking before he’s even thought about it. 

“No,” he says, patting the ground beside him entreatingly. “Please. Could use the company.”

You relent and move to sit beside him. He can feel the warmth radiating off of you, even from a few inches away. It’s nice in a way he hadn’t expected, like a fire on a cold night. He’s not sure what to say - what he wants to know first. “Why do they call you that?”

You seem surprised and he’s about to try to wave off the question when you answer, “What, Reaper?” You laugh, and he’s almost surprised how pleased he is to hear the sound, “It’s stupid really - I got left at Price’s doorstep when I was little, too young to know much of anything yet, and all he saw when he opened the door to find me was a figure in a black cloak disappearing around the bend. Price says it was like the Reaper himself saying it wasn’t my time yet. There was a letter tucked in the coat ‘round my shoulders with my real name, but Reaper stuck.”

“Huh,” Johnny says, not knowing what else to say. How to say that he can see something else when he looks at you now, some little piece slotted into the puzzle that made you up and told your story. Something now that just makes sense to him.

“Enough about me,” you say, nudging at his shoulder. “What brings you out here?” you ask, leaning back on your hands and watching the wind ripple over the surface of the water.

“I’m… troubled,” Johnny says slowly, trying to piece his thoughts into words. “I’ve never been torn between my duty and what I want before.”

You hum, soft and thoughtful, like you’ve put real weight to his words and you’re trying to understand him. “Is there something wrong with what your duty dictates of you?”

It’s a good question. Objectively? No. There’s been hundreds of marriages just like the one he’s expected to have. His fiancee is pretty and she seems nice enough but…

“My heart doesn’t stir for her.” It feels like confessional at church, like he’s just admitted his deepest sins and is waiting to see if he can be Saved.

“Has your heart stirred for anyone before?” There’s no judgement to your voice, like there’s no answer he could give that would be wrong. 

Johnny thinks back, tries to remember a single time at one of the parties his parents had taken him to that there was a girl that’d made him consider marriage as something to look forward to. He can’t.

“None of the girls I’ve met-”

“I didn’t say anything about girls,” you interrupt and Oh. Well, that’s something to consider isn’t it?

Sure, he’s not had the daydreams of marriage with another boy either but he couldn’t deny the way his heart aches when he thinks of you and really, now that he’s put ‘you’ and ‘marriage’ in the same sentence, it really doesn’t sound all that bad…

His realization must be clear on his face because you laugh, bright and loud and overjoyed. 

“Well, there’s your problem!” you tease, shoving playfully at his shoulder. “No wonder you don’t wanna marry my sister if you’re queer.” You go quiet, studying him thoughtfully. “Tell me about ‘im? Or them, I s’pose?” 

He’s not sure what to say, doesn’t know you well enough yet to put into words what draws him to you so profoundly. 

You take his silence as answer enough and let out a huff. Johnny’s almost worried he offended you until he recognizes the mirth in your eyes.

“Fine, keep your secrets, you wee bastard,” you tease, pushing yourself to your feet with a groan that Johnny tries steadfastly not to think about. “Let’s get you inside and t’bed before you find somethin’ else to have a crisis over.”

Johnny lets you haul him to his feet and follows you easily back to the castle, though he knows sleep will not come for him.

-----

He finds you in the stables the next day, brushing out the big black and white mare you’d been riding when your cohort arrived.

“Is there something wrong with it?” He asks after a moment, “with me… being queer?” He borrows your words from the night before and they taste strange on his tongue. Strange, but not wrong.

“‘Course not,” you say. Easy, simple as that, without so much as a thought about the answer. “Be hypocritical if I said there was when me and my brothers are too.” Johnny can’t let himself focus on your words, on the idea that you might look at him like he looks at you, or he’ll be stuck thinking on that for the rest of his life.

“What if I’m not sure?” he asks instead.

You look up at him then, studying him intently. “D’you wanna try?” you ask, as non-judgemental as ever, and move to lean against the stall door, crossed arms resting on the smooth wood between you.

Did he? There’s part of him that doesn’t want to know, to have it cemented in him that he isn’t exactly what his parents want of him. But the rest of him knows just what you’re offering him and it’s you so how could he possibly say no?

He can’t quite manage the words so he just nods, anticipation building in him as you close the stall door behind you and nudge him up against it, melting easily into you as you finally reach out and kiss him.

Johnny doesn’t think he’s ever felt quite as he does right now with your lips on his. With the rough prickle of stubble along your jaw against his fingers, and the heat of your tongue pressing into his mouth, and the way you’ve got his breath coming in short, sharp pants that get lost somewhere between his mouth and yours. 

His heart is pounding, blood searing through his veins like he’d been struck with lightning, and he’s sure that he’s dreaming as you kiss your way down his jaw to the side of his throat until you pull back and say “Simon” and he wants to be offended that you’ve called him by the wrong name until he follows your gaze and sees Ghost frozen in the doorway, eyes darting between the two of you and Johnny knows that he’s seen.

“Simon,” you say again, voice low and pleading, “Please.”

Ghost takes one step back and then another, still looking like some frightened animal despite the fearsome mask and towering bulk.

“I have to,” Ghost says, and it sounds like an apology, “Price has to know.” He leaves with that short brutal sentence carving into the space between you and Johnny and it feels like his world is crumbling around him. 

A sigh heaves out of you like it’s all you can do to remind yourself to breathe. Johnny can relate.

“I’ll fix this,” you say, carding your fingers through his hair and then you’re leaving too, and Johnny’s alone.

-----

Johnny spends the next twenty-four hours holed away in his room avoiding everyone and everything and is only disturbed when his door creaks open and his would-have-been-wife enters the room and moves to sit beside him.

“I’m not angry with you,” Abigail says when he refuses to so much as look at her. “Really, I think we could have been content enough, but I’m doubtful that there would have been more than friendship between us.” She stands again, straightening her skirts, “C’mon, then, enough with the moping. Our parents are having a meeting that we should be attending.”

Johnny knows she’s right, knows that brooding will do nothing to ease the consequences of his actions, but having her at his side helps ease the anxiety building in his stomach as he pushes open the door to the meeting room.

His mother and father sit together at one end of the table while Price sits at the other, you, Ghost, and Gaz standing behind him. Abigail squeezes his hand supportively and goes to sit beside Price, who studies him intently.

“There have been some… let’s say complications… brought to my attention,” Price says, leaning forward in his chair and steepling his hands. “With those complications in mind, I cannot in good conscience allow Johnny to marry my daughter.”

He can feel his parents’ eyes on him, can taste their panic rising in the air, and knows he has to do something.

“Sir,” he says, striding closer to Price despite the anxiety clawing at him. “I think we both know that this alliance would be beneficial to both of us. It would be a mistake to call it off.”

“Which is why the alliance will be moving forward,” Price continues, pressing on through everyone else’s confusion. “There will still be a marriage to join our families, as is tradition, but I’ll not cheat my daughter the opportunity to have a husband who loves her by marrying her off to someone who already loves another. Especially,” he grins, eyes twinkling brightly as he gestures you forward, “When my boy Reaper here says he feels the same way and would be more than happy to take her place.”

Johnny’s baffled, bewildered even, until he looks at you and sees your smile and it all clicks easily into place. He surges forward then, damn near knocking you off your feet as he throws himself into your arms, ignoring the sounds of your adopted siblings whooping and whistling at you and Price’s amused laughter and his parents voices.

He kisses you, in front of all of them, and for the first time he is excited to see what the future holds.

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

TONY STARK/ IRONMAN MASTERLIST

*DISCLAIMER: SOME STORIES MAY BE TAGGED FOR WRONG DEMOGRAPHIC (ie, Not GN, male or fem) IF SO, PLEASE POLITELTY INFORM ME SO I CAN FIX IT

DAUGHTER!READER

Little Frida (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Fair Punishment (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Like You Were Never Gone (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) *TW

Bitten (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2

Should Have Been A Dad (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Accidentally Coming Out (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Bella Ciao (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Left Behind (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Not All Gone (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Never There (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

I'm Here Now (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Pt 2

Your Daughter (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2

Do We Have A Deal? (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) *TW

More Than An Intern (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Second Best (Tony Stark X Rogers!Daughter!Reader) Pt 2

Squeeze (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)*TW

Dip (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Session (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) *TW

Home High (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Needing Dad's Assurance (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Feeling Loved Again (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Five Days (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) *TW

Parental Advice (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2

New Enviroment (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Caring Father (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Girlfriend? (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

Hiding Hickies (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)

TEEN/NEUTRAL!READER

More Like Pepper (Tony Stark X Teen!Child!Reader)

Supporting Dad (Tony Stark X Kid!Reader)

Stubborn Like Me (Tony Stark X Teen!Reader)

Too Much (Tony Stark X Teen!Reader)

Growing Prodigy (Tony Stark X Fem!Teen!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2

Homework Struggles (Tony Stark X Fem!Teen!Reader)

SON!READER

Taking The Lead (Tony Stark X Son!Reader)

Looking For Advice (Tony Stark X Son!Reader)

Biggest Loss On The Battlefield (Tony Stark X Son!Reader)

Science Fair (Tony Stark X Son!Reader)

NETURAL READER

Not Combatible (Tony Stark X Asexual!Reader)

Pressing Pause (Tony Stark X Reader)

Set Up Plan (Tony Stark X Reader)

You're Perfect (Tony Stark X Curvy!Reader)

FEM!READER

Shared Feelings (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader)

A Little Protective (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader)

Moving On (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader)

On The Off Chance (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader)

Pressure Due To Age (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader)

Tony's Hacker (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader)

Nightmares (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader)

He's Younger (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader)

Arc Reactor (Tony Stark X Wife!Reader)

WOULD INCLUDES

Having Your First Time With Tony Stark Would Include...

Being Pepper' Adopted Daughter and Tony Adopting You Would Include...

Being Tony Stark's Adopted Daughter Would Include...

SIBLING!READER

A Little Talk (Tony Stark X Brother!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2

Unfinished Business (Tony Stark X Brother!Reader)

OTHER

Good Girl (Tony Stark)

[blueberrymori]

✭warnings: dysphoria, content 18+, FTM reader, male pronouns, sweet nicknames. ✭synopsis: if there's one thing Jason doesn't like, it's hearing his boyfriend talk badly about himself,so he has to take care of his boyfriend to make sure that his boyfriend doesn't talk such nonsense anymore.

"no, don't look away" Jason said as he held you on his lap in front of the mirror "look in the mirror, see how your little boy pussy is being so greedy and swallowing my cock" he said with a thrust, making you roll your eyes in pleasure, Jason had been overstimulating your pussy for too long, preventing you from reaching your climax, he's your boyfriend and he heard you making negative and nasty comments about yourself in front of the mirror, so as a good boyfriend he did what he needed to do.

"eyes. in. the. mirror" he punctuated each word with a thrust "where's my good boy obeying me?" he said taking his fingers to your lips and forcing them inside, receiving a moan from you that was muffled by his fingers. "oh my poor boy can't speak, this is good for you to learn to stop belittling yourself" he said kissing his neck and leaving hickeys "you know what I see? a beautiful boy who just needs to have his brain drunk on my cock to forget his bad thoughts"

he said giving one more thrust to affirm his words, then he moved the hand that was on your lips to your clit, he started rubbing lazy circles, looking in the mirror you were a mess with tears dripping from your eyes, drool running down your chin, your pussy red and swollen from Jason's thrusts and the smug smile on his face.

"who's my pretty boy?" Jason asked, looking into his eyes through the reflection of the mirror, the smile never leaving his lips.

"I am" came from his lips, dragged by his movement, his cock hitting the sweet spot in his pussy. "That's right you are, now be a good boy and cum on my cock you're allowed to but don't close your eyes, keep them on the mirror so you can see how beautiful you look when you cum."

with his words and the thrusts now becoming sloppy on your sweet spot the hand on your swollen and overstimulated clit was all you needed to finally climax, looking at yourself in the mirror as you came Jason's smile as he saw your mouth open and a loud moan dragging from your lips.

"good boy, my beautiful, perfect boy, you've learned that you can't talk badly about yourself, talk badly about my perfect boy" he waited for your reply before finally kissing your lips and laying you down on the bed with him being the biggest spoon. "Get some sleep, I'll run you a hot bath with your lavender bath salts," he said, kissing your neck and humming in response.

[sl4sh3rsub]

art the clown hcs (nsfw: mdni)

art the clown x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: so so much. unhygienic behaviour, p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), creampies, fingering (receiving), overstimulation (receiving), dubious consent + cnc (with art), noncon (with [sometimes intoxicated] victims + art, not with reader), art is mute, reader is put on display and used as bait for art's activities, art makes his own snuff?? idk but there's sexual stuff with dead bodies + art in the same vicinity, masturbation, blood kink but lots of blood in general, gore, mentions of injury and giving injury (not on reader), public sex/exhibitionism, oral (giving + receiving), rimming (giving), period sex, cumrag, sexual photographs taken of/for reader, art goes commando, scarification, art is a switch - if only to commit to the bit, fear play (empty guns, dull knives), bondage (reader receiving), cum eating, somnophilia, shoe humping, cum tributes, feet stuff mentioned, musk kink, corruption kink mentioned?, mtf section mentions art performing an orchiectomy

a/n: kinda edited. he's so nine inch nails/orgy coded and the movies are so scary that i chickened out rewatching parts of terrifier 2 pls forgive me :3 the first dot point is to set the mood, sorry but it gets right into it

READ THE WARNINGS this one's very intense - please, if you think this might be too much for you or just uncomfortable, skip this one.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

art will put on a home video of him torturing and toying with someone while you're held between his legs - he wants to have a fun little viewing party for his recent exploits! he toys with your hole, teasing you as his cock ruts into your lower back. the sinister clown ignores the thrashing of your legs as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of your poor, tired body. the only time he lets up, giving a break from his constant stimulation on your sweet spots, is when he pauses to mimic a wave or jolly dance in the video he's showing you. the way your slick arousal thins and connects his fingers whenever he waves at the screen would be comical if your head wasn't so fuzzy from the constant edging. he loves tormenting people but the methods for you are a bit more... delicious

whenever he comes home injured, he patiently sits propped against a wall as you tend to his weeping wounds. judging by the ripped clown suit and gashes littering his skin, it was evidently a rough night. he doesn't bother to tell you that he will heal at abnormally fast speeds, he just loves the sight of his blood smeared on your skin. while you bandage art up, the gauze ends up giving him more coverage than his shredded suit - he meets your gaze with a sly grin as he thrusts up into your hand, showing what he has to offer. you'll have to ignore the drying blood all over the two of you, as he rushes to pull your face into of his lap to let out some pent-up energy :<

he's always so playful whenever you both get down and dirty, whether it's pulling surprised expressions whenever you cum, dragging his finger down from your lips to your throat to shush you or flick your nipples only to giggle at your surprised face

if art is not in the mood to trudge home alone after a rampage, he'll text you an address to meet him at. to no one's surprise, it's always a laundromat. he loves to fuck you in the empty establishments while his clothing is in a washing cycle - after all, it would be rude to get your clothing dirty while he's taking you from behind over a dryer. he pays extra attention to getting off and finishing inside you as a way to wind down from a wild time, his creamy release dripping onto the floor. guess you'll have to bust out the mop on shaky legs while art cheerily dresses himself and patiently waits for you on the bench next to the window - he can't help but admire his special person and be proud of how he made them come undone

his favourite way to wake up is to have his throbbing cock in your mouth, his gaze half-lidded as you work your hand along his length and envelop him with your soft lips. art is addicted to you sloppily gagging on him, spit and precum drooling down his balls. his huffs of pleasure gracing your ears are the sweetest part of any early morning

whenever you finish giving art head, kiss his tip softly after swallowing, making sure to slurp up his cum from dribbling down his shaft and he'll trace a heart on your forehead with your tears from gagging on him. if you meet his gaze as you catch your breath, he'll quietly shush and tut at you in reassurance while you rest your cheek against his bare thigh, petting your hair

the clown likes to play a game where he captures male victims he's focused on, strips them down, then ties them up in a row and gags them. he makes them watch as he pleasures you in front of them, spread on display as he mocks them and their tears, all while you come undone on his cock and fingers. he punishes the one that gets hard first (away from you, of course - he drags the guy to the next room to deal with later). art puts you on display in front of the remaining men, dons a shitty wig and red lipstick then slowly jerks off the softest person as they gradually get more aroused at the sight of you playing with yourself and moaning for art to fuck you. art is overall most turned on by other people watching you without touching what's his - he loves showing you off and feeling proud that they could never pleasure you like he could :3

art fucks you against the windows of buildings he's snuck into - he loves giving an eyeful for his potential victims and he's not above tempting them into the building he's camped out in with the false promise of joining in

he has certain hand signals for you to bend over, drop your pants or get on your knees. it's not in an intimidating dominant way, it's simply out of necessity as he cannot verbally order you to do anything in the bedroom

your pleasure is not the priority all the time - art's main goal is for him to feel good, however he may realise that certain things make you squeeze his cock perfectly and as a result, your orgasms are a coincidental byproduct of his lust

art is a sucker for being balls deep inside you when he cums but he also enjoys painting your sloppy hole - an excellent view, plus there's so much to scoop up and finger deep back inside you

whenever he cums, art's tummy tenses and his thighs spasm as his eyes roll backwards. his chest shudders as his breathing gets shaky, needing to grab onto something to steady himself. his cum itself is generally thick but whenever you remind him to drink water, it'll get very thin and watery. it's important to note, his cum colour fluctuates between a regular milk colour and pitch black goop

art the clown freeballs in his satin costume, just hangin out for the sake of convenience and simplicity - if he's needing to piss, rub one out or get undressed to sleep, why should underwear be in the way? he's an absolute pervert, so he loves you seeing his dick whenever you look at him

force him have a shower - not even a bath, the water would get dirty too quick. caked layers of metallic blood and dirt don't help anyone's general scent and if he's around you a lot, you don't want a smelly clown trailing you and in your general vicinity

he wanders around naked after he takes a hot shower, when his costume is drying and his painted neck is waiting to be properly touched up. expect to see his bare dick twitch while you stare in shock, mouth hanging open at his blatant lack of shame in his nudity. the same thing applies to whenever the clown suit has a hole in it - at this point it's any excuse to be in the nude and flaunting his body around, the tapered tip of his cock always pulsing under your bashful eye

art carves his name into you - or something like 'art was here', 'art's art' or 'art's toy' - but you get to choose where! in his mind, it's like a collaborative effort :<

he's addicted to your warmth and tightness, so be ready to have his pasty cock buried in you whenever there's nothing to do. he'll pull you onto his lap while bunched up and all tense, pull down your underwear and spit on his length, slowly sliding into you as his muscles release all tension. he's practically a limp puddle once he's deep inside - he's comfortable enough to nap like this and will cuddle you until you feel the same way. the bastard will occasionally toot his horn to scare you into clenching around his softly throbbing dick

his love language is physical touch - his hand is always hovering near your hip, ass or lower back and he pats your cheek or kisses your temple if you've been good, petting your hair as you doze off next to him. his version on an 'i love you' is a warm palm cupping your face as he intertwines his body with yours, your muscles relaxing as you lean into his heat

the clown always, always leaves deep bites and bruises all over your body. prepare to have painkillers at every single meal, because he makes sure you're aching and bleeding when he's done with you after a rough day

as he doesn't make you participate in his meals of flesh and rubbish, expect to have his victim's homecooked leftovers, as well as pizza and other take-out regularly - all with a little extra salty glaze ontop <3 he's a romantic after all and still wants a small part of him inside you no matter what, that way you're never really lonely - his warmth settling in your tummy and also leaking from between your legs

art marks up your neck with his tongue and nails, leaving crescent moons and maroon roses etched into your skin like a morbid necklace. although he's not happy that you don't heal abnormally fast like he does, your shudders as his cold nails trail over your tender flesh spark a warmth within his gut and a glint in his eye

art chokes you so often that his hand is practically your necklace. he likes the control he's able to exercise subtly with a squeeze of his fingers and you don't mind the comforting pressure of his thumb skimming over your pulse. be sure to wash his gloves often thought - whenever you drool or have given him head and his hand then takes its place around your throat, the remnants of the fluids often soak into the material clinging to his palms. eventually, it'll make his skin tacky with dried cum and spit, stuck to the threadbare gloves

his guilty pleasure is having you ride him and take control, with zero regard for accidentally overstimulating him - sure he could breed you of his own volition, in his own time, but he's your toy in that moment with no control. the coincidental creampie being fucked deeper and deeper in you makes a shiver run down his spine. he's willing to be a pliable doll for you to mould into a quiet fuck toy to play with. be sure to hold art close and comfort him after you take control and he'll do the same back after he's been rough

art gets his hands on incredibly dull knives and empty guns with no magazine, especially pistols, and brings them into your sexual life. he loves the fear in your eyes as he trails the blades down your chest, tracing your nipples and thighs but the clown is especially turned on by making you suck the barrel of a gun - pretty eyes glittering in panic and arousal. he makes a game of rigging a shotgun with tripwires - if you shift too much while he trails his tongue down your body or thrash as he makes you cum on his face, the threat of the trigger being pulled gives you a rush of adrenaline that makes your eyes roll back, vision fading white. his gun fixation is not limited to just that - some other ideas he's been cooking up include you being fucked by a dead cop's handgun while humping his clown shoe, as well as you christening each new weapon he creates during his tinkering sessions

if he's desperate to jerk off, he'll do it wherever - ready to get it over with even if he ends up rubbing one out next to a dead body or in the middle of a public park. if he returns to you with dirty gloves and semen drying on the wrist, don't ask what happened because his mimed description of events is never pleasant

art sits on your face and gets off with his fist while you fuck him with your tongue, lapping at his hole. he tosses his head back and pants very softly, thighs trembling as he grinds himself on your face - bonus points if you let him pull back and fuck your mouth with his cock for a bit before returning to suffocate you between his asscheeks

he loves licking your skin everywhere. absolutely everywhere. he loves the taste of your salty sweat and warmth, feeling powerful having your pulse race under his tongue. if you fuck him, stuff your fingers in his mouth and his eyes will roll back in his skull

art suspends you with chains and rope, teasing you until you're begging to be fucked. his deft fingers trace your curves and edges, flicking and pinching your nipples, inner thighs and ass as he manically grins with a clear cock print in the front of his suit. he only maneuvers you to take his cock once you're dripping spit, tears and arousal onto the cold floor and screaming for him

as art knows you belong to him, sharing you with another man gets him going like nothing else - he'll eiffel tower you with a restrained captive, urging you to choke on the stranger's hardening dick as he fucks you so deep you're gasping for air and seeing stars. what's gonna happen, the guy survives? fuck no, he's already practically giftwrapped at death's doorstep just from becoming art's captive. why not make the last few hours of his life enjoyable and more than fulfilling - if the poor sod is willing, you could even keep him for a night or two as a pet

if you have genital, nipple piercings or even a septum done, art will dangle a little bell from each hoop. it immediately brightens his day to hear the little jingles whenever you're bouncing on his dick and he can't resist flicking them to make you jolt or smacking your ass whenever you walk near him just to hear the sweet soft tinkle under your loose clothing

art cleans up each basement/house he temporarily stays in, with a designated bed to fit the two of you and ensures there's a bathroom and basic laundry attached for your comfort - he notices you tend to avoid his being in his proximity whenever he gets too smelly. he may also move in with you for bouts of time - provided you have the space - but also camps out at his usual haunts and drags you along to hang out with him! the poor clown hates being lonely :(

he might go on a walk with you and toy with you - he gets off on watching you panic as he whips his dick out in public and gestures for you to kiss it, rub your face over it and worship him, hard or not. the control he holds over you and the headrush of power, combined with your submissive gaze aimed up at him, makes his growing affection and attachment towards you grow stronger

he brings you human organs and shitty handwritten poems - 'here's a heart but i wanna be the one pumping inside of you <:o)' or 'i could call you this esophagus the way you swallowed me so well last night >:)'

he has a collection of picture frames in his hideout because he takes photos of you and sticks them in nice frames - who needs playboy magazines when he can make tributes to you? you can tell which one is his favourite, with the crusty sludge stuck to the glass and wood protecting the flimsy picture

art definitely wants a footjob every now and then, every once in a while. it means he can tie up your hands while you get him off AND he still has two hands to play with you - a win win situation all around. he's not really into it strictly because it's feet, he just gets off on the thought of corrupting you more with such a taboo action

he has a love-hate relationship with piss too - he loves to have you obediently under him as he showers you with piss and cum, corrupting you a little more each time he marks you with his smell, but he hates because it masks your natural scent which is one of the few things that makes his head spin

if you get anxious or restless, he always has a cold body nearby.. oh you want something warmer? feel free to suckle on his soft cock or his sac while you cuddle his leg and fidget with the cloth of his pantleg

although he's gotten a lot better at regulating his personal hygiene since you met him, he doesn't always clean himself up - the musky and tangy stench of blood, sweat and grime permeates his suit until he scrubs clean

art loves it when you do filthy things for his pleasure, like sniffing his armpits while humping him or rimming him with his sweaty balls resting on your nose, making your brain go dumb

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

whenever art is thinking about being away for a few days to camp out at a certain location, he'll grab himself a clean rag and dedicate an entire night to getting you to cum on the cloth as many times as possible. it wouldn't be a pair of underwear from either of you - he hates wearing any type of clothing under the suit, even if it's your cum stained boxers - so it'd have to be a ripped piece of cloth from an old clown outfit. he'll jack you off and fuck you while holding it over your tip and even gag on your cock until the flimsy material is coated and probably permanently stained in your spend. he just wants a keepsake for the road and why not make it imbued with memories of the two of you enjoying yourselves? his own little cumrag to remember what he has back home, something special to return to!

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your bulge and ass against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

art craves the sensation of you throbbing under his tongue, the feeling of your pulse as you leak your pleasure all over his lips and the heavy musky taste slips down his throat

he'll get you a cute, sparkly plastic ring from a gachapon machine down at the arcade and fake proposes to you! later in the week, he'll break into a sex shop and bring home a matching cock ring (he's a romantic)

art has an obsession with your balls - nipping at them, having them slap against his chin or nose bridge as he messily takes as much as he can down his throat, you name it. expect greasepaint at the base of your cock and staining your pubes

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

if he's on top and riding, he'll put all his weight into choking you while he bounces up and down on your cock, eyes glinting with pride at your gasped thanks whenever he pulls you back from the brink of unconsciousness

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

art is obsessed with you whenever it's 'that time of the month' - you can barely get away from his wandering hands and quiet presence. he drops everything the moment you reach for your favourite snacks and heat pack, drags over a dark towel he keeps on hand for you. ever since he learnt that orgasms help relieve cramps and pain, he has felt a lot less selfish for wanting to ravage you while you're tender and bleeding. he has numerous photos of his bloodied cock framed by your ass cheeks or your warm cunt and he often takes videos on your phone of his length throbbing and oozing copious amounts of pink cum <3

art has an addiction to taking upskirt pictures of your puffy pussy imprint against your thin, practically see-through panties, still slick despite your embarrassment. his guilty pleasure is taking the pics when his cum is leaking from your hole, soaking the fabric

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your chest, ass and pussy against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

art pretends to talk and communicate with your cunt - acting out gestures as if holding a conversation with your clit while slowly coaxing you to cum and even gesturing at you to shush if you try to interrupt the important moment

eats devours pussy like a demon, a man starved. no hesitance and no restraint, he’s the type to suckle open mouthed kisses to your clit and fucks your dripping hole with his abnormally long tongue. nipping at your folds as he coaxes you to the edge with just a finger, tongue swirling in your slick as you cum - he is sloppy in his work but enthusiastically diligent with the cleanup, not a drop gets past his mouth. greasepaint might stain your thighs afterwards but it's a small price to pay for a talented clown's best efforts

art will find pretty lingerie for you to wear for him, parading around his hideout, making sure you know how hard he gets at your nipples and pussy covered delicately in lace

he flicks and circles your clit while you sleep, cumming all over your pussy before putting your panties back in place. he loves leaving little presents like that for you when you wake - a fuzzy head and a sticky and throbbing mess down there, strings and globs of cum connecting your thighs and the flimsy, soaked material

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

art has never had a handsome toy with a self-lubricating hole before - his fascination with your t-dick leads to endless nights of him experimenting on you with his mouth, fingers and cock to see what makes you tick. his favourite pastime is suckling on your tender dick while he pulses his fingers against your cervix, your whole body jerking from sensitivity as his deft fingers circle your sweet spots

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your chest, ass and boypussy against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

he keeps a pair of your slick-stained boxers in his ol' bag of tricks, a little keepsake for his on-the-go orgasms - he's a sniffer for sure, securing it over his face so both his hands are free to use on his dick as he gets off to your scent

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

eats devours boypussy like a demon, a man starved. no hesitance and no restraint, he’s the type to suckle open mouthed kisses to your cock and fucks your dripping hole with his abnormally long tongue. nipping at your folds as he coaxes you to the edge with just a finger, tongue swirling in your slick as you cum - he is sloppy in his work but enthusiastically diligent with the cleanup, not a drop gets past his mouth. you both tiredly giggle after he's done - the face paint around his cheeks and lips is hopelessly smudged, especially after he licks his lips and grins at you. guess he'll have to redo it later, no harm done <3

he fucks you so hard and bruises your cervix to the point where you can only moan his name and whine when he properly pulls out and gives you water with a heatpack and blanket, genuinely scared he went too rough on your insides. if your legs fail after such a long night, he'll throw you over his shoulder or pick you up like royalty and use his inhuman strength to carry you around

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

art the clown is thrilled to have a pretty toy with parts he's familiar with! his fingers nudge your prostate as he suckles on your tip to draw out your sweet noises. he takes you down his throat with ease, tongue lapping at your base - the combination of art's deft fingers working your hole and his hot throat clenching your length brings you to the edge embarrassingly fast. he's always had a thing for seeing his black lip paint smeared on your balls

art has an addiction to taking upskirt pictures of your bulge imprint against your thin, practically see-through panties, slick from your precum drooling and sticking to the fabric despite your embarrassment. his guilty pleasure is taking the pics when his cum is leaking from your hole

he insists on battering your prostate until you're shooting blanks - he never lets up on your poor hole until you're fully spent and your head is empty with only his name on your pretty lips

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through dressing up prettily and then stripping down sensually and pressing your bulge, chest and ass against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

the clown loves to have you dolled up in lingerie and parading infront of him, bulge and hard nipple pressed against the soft and dainty fabric. his cock gets visibly hard at the sight of you and his head spins at the sensation as you shyly offer to help with his urge to take you then and there

if you're desperate for gender-affirming surgery, art will hone his skills in surgery and sterilization to safely give you an orchiectomy - pun intended. he'll practice and go through the motions for weeks if it means you are happy and he gets to care for you

_ _ _ _ _

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it, i'm writing this at 5am. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

_ _ _ _ _

@stonerinthelonlycorner

[bumblesimagines]

Burning Love

Request: Yes or No

Summary: As the eldest son and heir to the Iron Throne, Prince (Y/N) Targaryen has many responsibilities; most of which his darling sister hopes to share with him one day.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Targcest/Incest (Full-blooded Brother-Sister), Aemma lives!! and Alicent is not a childbride, mentions of stillbirths and miscarriages (Aemma's pregnancies)

Collecting HOTD oneshots like pokemon cards at this point

~~~

It was known that Targaryens had... questionable traditions. Traditions those with outsider perspective could only force themself to understand.

There was the act of putting a dragon egg in the cradle of a babe and hoping the egg would hatch sometime soon after to ensure the babe was bonded to a loyal protector they'd grow up alongside of; a tradition started by Rhaena Targaryen, eldest daughter of King Aenys I and Queen Alyssa Velaryon. Targaryens were Dragonriders, bonded with the very beasts they used to conquer the lands and pull them all into one kingdom (with the exception of Dorne, of course). They cremated their dead, a custom from Old Valyria, often with the help of a dragon belonging to their closest kin. 

And of course, the most infamous and often looked down upon custom, wedding kin to kin. Another custom from Old Valyria that many followers of the Seven turned their cheek upon, for they found the act of wedding siblings to siblings and so forth (apart from cousin to cousin) a sin. Faithful followers could voice their complaints as much as they wished, but Targaryens were kings, queens, princes, and princesses. Nobody could or would stop them from keeping their bloodline pure if they so wished. 

Descending from a long, historic, and proud family, Rhaenyra grew up listening and learning the tales of those who'd come before her. Aegon the Conquer and his faithful sister-wives, Rhaenys and Visenya; the many rebellions and fighting brought on during the lives of King Aenys I and King Maegor the Cruel; The Old King Jaehaerys who'd chosen her father, Viserys, as heir over his own late heir's daughter, Rhaenys; and of course, the histories written during the early stages of her father's reign. 

Her beloved older brother had been two when King Jaehaerys named their father heir and three when their father ascended the throne whilst their beautiful mother, Aemma Arryn, carried her in the womb. The fourth person to ever hold little Rhaenyra in their arms had been her brother, closely supervised by their parents and the maester attending the birth, of course. With a healthy son and daughter, Viserys and Aemma hardly needed for more children, but they tried anyway. Their attempts never carried to term, however, and any little ones that did were either stillborn or died mere hours or days after birth. 

Still, Rhaenyra never needed for any more siblings. Her brother was enough, in her humble opinion. He cared for her diligently, especially during their younger years when he eagerly wished to play with her, even if it meant the two of them being gently scolded at the end of the day for dirting Rhaenyra's dresses with mud and dirt. (Y/N) treated her as his equal, even showing her how to use a wooden sword when he began his training and helping prepare her for dragon-riding on Syrax. His own mount hardly needed much training in the Dragonpit, for the mighty Vermithor's first rider had been the Old King.

As time passed, the siblings were forced apart more often than Rhaenyra enjoyed. She'd made up her mind long ago that she and (Y/N) would one day be wed, and she'd be his formidable sister-wife. Their parents merely chuckled about it when she'd first told them at the age of seven, her squeaky voice and flushed cheeks only drawing cooing from Aemma and sweet smiles from Viserys. The absence of her brother had been stark, his time taken up by training, studying, and spending time with the Small Council, but Alicent Hightower had quickly taken his spot as Rhaenyra's companion. 

However, in due time, (Y/N) became man-grown, and while Rhaenyra quickly followed with her flowering, as heir and prince, (Y/N) became the most eligible bachelor in all of Westeros. It took time for it to become apparent to Rhaenyra but her eyes and ears opened when she heard their parents speaking of it. Many families, highborn and lowborn, offered their daughters through letters or visits to Kings Landing. Lannisters, Baratheons, Starks, Brackens, Blackwoods, Tullys, and plenty more came forth. Even Otto Hightower made a passing comment about wedding Alicent to him. It was infuriating.

"In truth, I do not understand your irritation, Rhaenyra," Alicent spoke gently, her slender fingers working on embroidery. A flower she'd seen in the gardens, or something along those lines. Rhaenyra hadn't truly been paying attention to her dear friend. She'd been too focused on silently fuming at the sight of her brother showing one of the highborn ladies around the Red Keep. Every giggle, every blush, every bat of her eyelashes made Rhaenyra tick. "It's wonderful to watch one's brother fall in love."

"You wouldn't understand, Alicent." Rhaenyra sighed. "It is like the love King Jaeherys and the Good Queen Alysanne had."

Alicent faltered at her words, her head lifting to eye her friend with a small grimace. "You do remember our lessons, correct? King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne had to wed in secret, for they knew that not even their mother approved in fear of another uprising from the Faith. Nobody has made a fuss over your parents since they are cousins, but who knows what may happen if you wed (Y/N)."

"(Y/N) is everything King Jaehaerys was, Alicent. He is beloved by the Realm." Rhaenyra reminded her friend with a small smile, pushing herself off the cushioned seats and smoothing her hands over the front of her dress. Her earrings swung slightly when she tilted her head slightly to the side, the ends of them brushing against her shoulders. Her eyes tracked (Y/N) as he lifted the lady's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles before departing. "He will be a good king, and if I could prove it, I would be a good queen. His queen." Her feet began moving automatically. 

"Rhaenyra," The name tumbled out of Alicent's mouth, her hands fumbling with the items in hand. "Where are you going?"

Bunching up the skirt of her dress in her hands, Rhaenyra grinned over her shoulder and chuckled at the concerned look on Alicent's features that only grew at the sight of her mischievous glint. "To speak with my brother!" 

With a goal in mind, Rhaenyra entered the castle and followed the distant figure of her brother as he cut down hallways with long strides until he reached his bedchambers. Rhaenyra took a moment to herself to catch her breath and rake her fingers through her long silver locks before she approached the doors and nodded for the guards to open them. She stepped inside, a smile appearing across her lips when (Y/N) turned to look at her. 

"My favorite sister," (Y/N) cooed, taking a seat at his desk and unrolling a letter. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes in return, clasping her hands together behind her back and taking small steps toward him. He skimmed the contents of the letter, his face giving away nothing of what it spoke of. "Is there something you require, Nyra, or are you suffering from boredom? I have plenty of lords and ladies who'd be happy to keep you busy." 

Rhaenyra scoffed quietly and (Y/N) gave a small grin. "I hear Father is urging you to find a wife."

"The Small Council is urging him to urge me, more like. They believe it is time to begin having children. Seeing as Father and Mother had great difficulty, they wish for me to have an heir by the time I ascend the throne to ensure there won't be issues later on." (Y/N) explained, coiling the letter back up and pulling out a blank paper. He dipped his quill in ink and began writing. "Otto has been... more friendly as of recently. He speaks incredibly highly of Lady Alicent." 

"You'd tell me if you were interested in someone, wouldn't you?" Rhaenyra reached over the desk to pluck the quill from his fingers, setting it aside and raising her brows at him. (Y/N) slumped back in his seat and laced his fingers over his midsection, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. Rhaenyra rounded the table and without thinking twice, she plopped down on his thigh. 

"Nyra,"

"You know as well as I do who you should wed, (Y/N). I know what a good queen should be, and I do not care about status or riches like the families of those ladies do. We have the blood of the dragon in our veins. Nobody would truly understand us." Rhaenyra spoke softly, her bottom lip slightly jutting out as she placed her palm over his cheek. His own hands unlaced, one moving to press against her back. 

"The Small Council-"

"Fuck the Small Council." Rhaenyra huffed, earning a quiet chuckle from her brother. "You are the prince, the heir. Whatever it is you choose, they must deal with it. It is their job to counsel, to offer their advice and opinions, not to dictate what you do. We could mount Syrax and Vermithor and fly elsewhere to wed in the customs of Old Valyria." 

A gentle sigh escaped (Y/N), and he leaned forward to press a delicate kiss to Rhaenyra's shoulder. The princess relaxed at the action, her hand moving past his cheek to the back of his head. (Y/N)'s lips curled up. "You are insufferable." He told her with a gentle laugh before leaning in to press their mouths together. He drew back too quickly for Rhaenyra's liking. "But a good ruler is a patient one, Nyra. If you wish for us to wed, or to lay together-" He brushed their lips together teasingly. "-you must wait. Father and Mother will be easy to convince." 

"Does it matter if we wait?" Rhaenyra tilted her head and batted her lashes coyly, the feigned innocence prompting (Y/N) to roll his eyes. She rose from his lap and dropped her hands to his, tugging on them until he stood up from the chair. She smiled widely, devilishly even, and slung her arms around his shoulders. "We will be wed, regardless. It will not matter." 

"I have things I must do, Nyra." (Y/N) gave a heavy sigh and shrugged his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on her waist. "As I said, you must be patient. If you wish to speed things along, you should speak with Mother. She'll always be the key to winning Father over." He told her and planted a kiss on her temple before settling back down on the chair. 

"Will we be like that someday?" Rhaenyra asked softly, stepping out of the way so he could resume his letter. She toyed with the rings along her fingers, the thought of becoming one of those couples who genuinely cared for each other bringing a smile to herself. It was a desire all ladies had. While sons could marry whichever woman of age they desired, ladies had to hope the husbands their fathers or elder brothers chose were good men. She'd seen far too many times the faces of girls her age married and chained to men old enough to be their grandfathers. 

(Y/N) paused his writing and lifted his head to look at her, offering a reassuring smile. "Someday." He nodded. 

"I look forward to it, then."

[burning-omen]

Happy (Belated) Halloween!

Jason Todd x Demon!male!reader

(A/n: I'm tired, I've been getting argued at and pulled into fights that have nothing to do with me from the time I woke up- had a bunch of chores and shit to do and the fucking grocery store was packed and people keep bumping into me and all the fucking prices went way up since the last time I was there less than a month ago- I'm thoroughly overstimulated and getting home to edit and rewrite certain parts of this shitty little fic was a probably the best part of my day.)

Warning: crack fic kinda, blood, Demon!reader, murder, mutilation, and gore, summoning gone right technically, reader has TWO dicks, size difference, overstimulation, masochism, probably misspellings idk I'm not reading it again that's your job, dom/sub, ownership marking, sacrifice (rip that guy, ive been calling him marvin in my head), going missing for a lil while (consensually), OOC jason todd but this is literally porn who cares

word count: 1981 (short, i know, shut up/j)

Halloween parties were the worst. If the loud, drunk, half-naked crowd wasn’t enough to convince Jason, walking in on an honest to god seance was.

Being dragged to a party by Dick, only to lose him in the crowd of people within the first few minutes. He just wanted some quiet- and under the guise of looking for how brother he managed to avoid nearly every conversation that came his way- except for some incomprehensible drunk girl who insisted on holding a conversation with his even though she sounded like she was under water every time she opened her mouth.

He eventually managed to escape from her, finding the nearest room to recuperate in, only to be greeted by a room of chanting, drunk party-goers, kneeling around a shakily drawn yet intricate summoning circle. The chant was Latin- super old Latin- and Jason really wanted no part in this. He knew that demons were real, he knew a lot of shit that was supposedly fake was real- he had Batman to thank for that. So, after standing in the room for about 30 seconds, he decided to leave.

Turning on his heel, not saying a word to whatever party cult he just walked in on- deadset on leaving when he heard choking, and gasps from the mini cult as they clamored around the chanter who had suddenly collapsed.

Taking in a deep breath, cursing Bruce and the unwavering need to help he instilled in all of his children, before turning back to the group.

Laying, choking in the middle of the circle was a young man-

‘He’s drunk,’ Jason thought, pushing through the group surrounding him, their concern was nice- but unhelpful ‘probably choked on his tongue.’

Tilting his head back, the choking became louder- tears streamed down his face, his mouth agape as he clawed at his throat- his eyes desperate and afraid.

“It’s okay,” Jason tried, but he wasn’t exactly known for his bedside manner. “Just let me look.”

He peered down the man's throat- his tongue was wear it was supposed to be, but blood still filled the man’s mouth. Clearly whatever was happening here was internal, there's nothing Jason could do for him. Before he could ask anyone to call an ambulance- he saw something move at the very back of his throat. Even through the pooling blood, he could tell something wasn’t right- what the hell did he swallow?

His neck bulged as something made its way up- that was good- maybe. Slowly pushing up- whatever it was- caused the man to cry out in pain. He coughed and sputtered as it moved up and up until it pushed past the muscles of his throat and out of his mouth. A hand, clawed- drenched in blood, moving with so much force that a crack sounded through the room as more and more of the form inside him- whatever it was- came out. Breaking his jaw to finally reach out and grab his face- he cried out as pain and panic filled him- he turned to Jason for help as his friends fled but there wasn’t anything Jason could do but sit there in horror as an arm lifted from his broken and mutilated face- he cheeks tearing in as his mouth opened to unnatural length.

The bloody arm clawed at the floor, sharp talon like nails leaving deep wounds in the wood. Jason backed away- fear as well as guilt taking over. The basic instinct that anyone who had even taken the moniker “Robin” knew took over soon after, he needs to call batman- he couldn’t handle whatever this is, not on his own. He reached for his phone right as the candle lit room suddenly went dark. Jason, usually so strong and sure, didn’t know what to do. His communicator clattered to the floor as he stood.

He swore quietly- backing up until he was pressed against the wall- the sound of flesh tearing filled the room- still hot blood splattered across his face.

A soft growl came from the dark, deep and steady and growing closer by the second. Then,as if they had never been out, the candles were re-lit.

A massive beastly thing stood above him, horned and winged- a long tail trailing behind it. Soaked in the blood of the man that was scattered in chunks around the room. Despite knowing that he should definitely be afraid, a man had been ripped from the inside out right in front of him, something somewhere in his mind was saying, “would”. The thought immediately made him cringe at himself- he could not survive that- not only were you massive, you were also very naked. With not one but two just as massive, heavy cocks resting between your legs. He’d die, simply put, torn in half Terrifier style.

“Scared, human?” You asked, voice just as inhuman as your form.

Suddenly unable to find his words, Jason shook his head.

The action made you purr- something was so wrong with this man, not running or screaming, but instead sitting before you, his eyes wandering over your body, face reddened as his heart pounded in his chest.

He didn’t even attempt to move when you reached for him, his breath caught in his throat, but he remained perfectly still as you stroked his hair, then ran the backside of your claws down his cheek. All the way down to his chest, pressing just the tip of your claw in, watching as his shirt quickly became stained with blood.

“Not scared? How brave of you, human. “ You mused, “I require sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” he barely managed.

Trailing your claw lower and lower until the point of it rested over the growing bulge in his pants.

“A sacrifice of life is usually offered.” You pressed down, “But, another kind of offering will suffice.”

Jason breathed out- he can’t. Mentally, he could- he’s done all kinds of weird shit, fucking a demon wouldn’t even come close to the worse things he done- it doesn’t even reach top ten with the rest of his family’s track record for weird shit. But physically, that would kill him. One alone would shatter his pelvis and probably paralyze him- two would just straight up kill him. And you really didn’t seem like the kind of demon to go half way- you did come all the way from hell after all.

The obvious thing to do was to say no and call a fucking exorcist- but Jason didn’t do that, instead he speaks, so sure and steady as he spoke-

“Can you shrink?”

The entirety of your form became, your horns no longer scraped the ceiling, but you were still massive above Jason. You didn’t make it easy for him- pressing him into the floor with one clawed hand gripping his hair tightly, knees pressed into the hard wood and legs spread wide open, his cock- which you decided needed to remain untouched for the “sacrifice” to be valid.

Labored breathing, gasping and all encompassing sobs filled the room as both of your cock stretched him to the limit every time you thrusted into him- his nearly blunt nails leaving marks in the wooden floor below him.

With his mouth hanging wide open- he begged- muttering a broken “Please-’’ between moans-

You leaned down, pulling him up by his hair- resting inside him before speaking.

“You want more, human?”

Eyes brimmed with tears, feeling far fuller than felt natural- but so good and warm at the exact same time- deep in his stomach all the down to the very tips of his toes, every nerve so very alive.

He nods, shortly and without hesitation.

You grip on his hair loosens, and he sighs in relief as the burning pain in his scalp stops.

Only to flair up in his hips as you dig your claws into them, literally. Piercing through skin and drawing blood that slid over his skin and pooled beneath him on the floor. Jason, ever the masochist, only gets louder. With the party outside still raging on, you're sure the sound blended into the background- and any attendee lucky enough to have heard the high, whiny moans was listening far too hard.

Thrusting became painful, hard slamming- both cocks abusing his prostate with unnatural accuracy. Pulling out until the tips of your cock were just barely inside of him- then pressing back in so hard his entire body was pushed forward.

Jason’s mind was loud and incoherent - incomplete thoughts running through his head, cut short by either pain or pleasure every single time.

His body spammed unwillingly, muscles tightening and releasing, his hole tightened around you in an attempt to suck you in more- even if more would cause so so many problems for the man.

“So greedy,” you hummed in his ear, and you take cock so well.”

He didn’t respond, he couldn’t, overwhelmed and obsessed with the feeling. His orgasm- the first of many snuck up on him, his body overstimulated and oversensitive as hot, white cum shot straight onto the floor.

He gasped for air as though he’d been held under water- his body burned as he clenched around you- pleasure gone- replaced by what could only be described as fire destroying him from the inside out. He cried out in pain, his body writhes and contorts- and yet he never asks you to stop.

You grinned, “so cute, I might just have to keep you, human.”

You weren’t far behind him, cum seeping from both of your tips as you buried yourself deep inside him- it only added to the burning. Filling him so much until his hole, still plugged with your cock, leaks it back out. Down his legs and onto the floor, mixing with his own puddle of cum. You watched him for a long moment, letting him grit his teeth and cry at the pain, before showing your newest pet a bit of mercy and pulling out.

His body slouched onto the floor the moment you leg go. Jason was on the verge of passing out, eyes barely open, covered in blood, sweat, and cum. He has a high pain tolerance and his stamina was through the roof- but fucking hell he was so tired, and everything hurt, from his over used knees, to his damn near broken hole, and the small wounds your claws had made- coupled with an over bearing overstimulation making everything ten times worse- Jason, without question, was never doing this again.

—--- A couple weeks later—---

Dick realized that Jason wasn’t a party person, but for him to just disappear (and possibly kill someone at the party??? What the hell Jay???) for weeks seemed to be a bit of an overreaction.

But when he walked into the manor, happy as can be, after just being gone for three weeks, Dick knew something was very wrong- or very unusual- was happening.

“I had a date.” Was Jason’s only response, as he leaned heavily against the back of a chair, but never actually sat down in it.

“A date?!” Dick is so glad he questioned him in private. “With who?”

Jason shrugged, “met a guy at the party.”

“Jason you just dropped off of the face of the Earth with some guy for nearly a month?!”

Dick didn’t realize how literal that was- Hell has some pretty nice residential areas, it turns out.

“I was having fun.”

Jason, of course, was never going to tell Dick what he has really been doing- or what he will continue to be doing for the foreseeable future- but it was fun watching him freak out at every vague answer he gave.

The mark (brand?? Tattoo??) on his back still felt weird, sensitive from its spot hidden under his clothes, but how else would other demon, humans, and every other sentient being know that he was yours.

(a/n 2: AND I KNOW ITS LATE BUT I STILL FINISHED IT WITHIN A REASONABLE TIME SO EVERYBODY SHUT UP/j)

[thealtoduck]

Dally

Jason Todd x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut, anal sex, bottom!Reader, top!Jason, rough sex, unprotected sex, blowjob, fingering, doggy style, porn with plot, size kink, you and Jason are both kinda tipsy, Jason is aftercare king, you and Jason are unkowingly filmed, angst ending…

N/n = Nickname

The Socialite and The Vigilante | Masterlist

Summary: You and Jason get tipsy at an event and go back to your place…

(A/n: No. 1 Hoe Anthem)

——

One of the mayoral candidates, Mr Stone, had invited the Gotham Elite for what he called ”a celebration of Gotham’s greatest”. But from what you’d heard his campaign was running low on funds and he wanted to sweet talk all the people with deep pockets.

Whatever the reason may be you were now stuck there amongst the crowd of ”Gotham’s greatest”. You’d preferred to not go but according to your mother it’d be improper to ditch such an event and in her own words ”You have to go cause I don’t want to, I can’t stand that man”.

So you sacrificed yourself to spend the evening at the party… plus Jason had been forced to go along with his family and you promised you’d keep him company.

You watched as Jason entered in the company of his family, he was dressed in a black suit, giving him a dark and luxurious look. He and his family were greeted by Mr Stone.

While Bruce spoke to Mr Stone, Jason looked around the crowd of black suits and evening dresses until his eyes met yours and a soft smile appeared on his face. Once Mr Stone left them to enjoy the party Jason made his way to you.

You were stood in a corner looking at nice sculpture when Jason approached you. ”No tie?” he asked noticing you substituted a tie with a thin sliver chain necklace. ”Never been the biggest fan of ties, Jay, you know that” you stated in a your more upper class tone that tended to come out at these types of events.

”Well, you look great” Jason said grazing his hand against yours slightly. ”You too” you said adjusting his hair slightly. ”I’ll go get us some drinks” Jason said, soon coming back with two glasses of champagne, handing you one.

He then lowered his hand in his pocket bringing out a hip flask, pouring some of the contents in his own glass before offering ”Whiskey?”. Making you let out a small laugh before holding your glass out to him, saying ”If you insist”.

You and Jason mostly kept to yourselves through the party. You listened to Mr Stone’s speech talking about how good his campaign was going but made sure to add that it does take it’s toll on him, his workers and his family. But most of all to his wallet, he had joked making light polite laughs sound out in the room.

You and Jason found a table to relax at, sipping your drinks. The event was quite the bore, the music was dull, the decorations were plain, even the champagne on it’s own felt tasteless. You were lucky Jason had brought the flask.

Soon you and Jason were joined by Mr Stone himself. ”Mr Todd, Mr St. Cloud, enjoying yourselves?” he asked, you put on a polite smile and said ”Of course, it’s quite the event you’ve put together, Mr Stone”.

”Thank you, what a shame your mother couldn’t come” Mr Stone said. ”Yeah, she really wanted to but she wasn’t feeling well, but she wishes you luck with the mayoral campaign” you lied, your mother had said nothing of the sort, you were just being polite.

”You boys are old enough to vote now, right?” Mr Stone mentioned, you and Jason shared a look, you’d both been waiting for the topic to come up. ”Yes, we are” Jason answered and you nodded. ”Well, I hope this party has helped convince you who to vote for” he suggested followed by a lighthearted chuckle.

You did your best to not roll your eyes and said with a smile ”Of course, Mr Stone, you have our support”. ”You bet, Mr Stone” Jason said in a fake cheery tone. Mr Stone then said goodbye leaving you and Jason, your expression immediately turned to disgust as Mr Stone was out of sight.

”I hate him” Jason stated, followed by you saying ”Me too”. ”Let’s get some more champagne and then get out of here” you told him, he nodded in agreement and the two of you went to the drink table. Jason emptied the last of his whiskey in to your glasses and you drank.

Once you’d both finished 2 more glasses each you made your way towards the exit, you called your chauffeur to pick the two of you up. As soon as the two of you came out on sidewalk Jason loosened his tie and you took off your suit jacket.

Soon a familiar car pulled up in front of you and you and Jason climbed in the backseat. ”You wanna come back to my place or do you need a ride elsewhere?” you offered him, Jason smiled. ”Think I’ll join you” he said placing a hand on your thigh.

You leaned in against Jason’s shoulder, as the chauffeur started driving towards your apartment building.

Luckily for you the traffic was good enough for you to be home in a short while, you and Jason stepped out of the car and you thanked your chauffeur before making your way up to your apartment on the top floor.

As you stood in the elevator, Jason’s hand once more grazed against yours, this time your fingers intertwined. When you reached the top floor, you stepped out of the elavator to your door and you unlocked it.

You and Jason entered the penthouse, taking of your shoes. You threw your suit jacket aside and led the way towards the stairs, closely followed by Jason.

You started unbuttoning your shirt as you entered your bedroom, turning to Jason who looked curious where this was going. You threw your button up aside and stepped closer to him, you unbuttoned his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders letting it drop to the floor.

You then pushed your lips to Jason’s, while he snaked his arms around your waist as you started to hungrily make out. You then started unbuttoning Jason’s shirt revealing his athletic chest. You started lowering yourself to your knees as you placed kisses down his abs.

Until you were on your knees in front of him, you undid Jason’s belt and pulled down his pants letting them fall to his ankles. Jason had grown hard, his bulge noticable in his tight white briefs. You pulled down his underwear setting his big legth free.

His hard dick pointed to your face. When Jason looked down the sight gave him a sense of satisfaction, you half naked ready to suck his cock. You started taking Jason’s member in to your mouth, teasing the tip with your tongue.

Jason let out a small breath as you started taking more of him in to your warm mouth. You soon started moving your head back and forth on his cock. Jason’s mouth hung open as you went down on him.

”Fuck, you’re perfect” he said holding the sides of your head, using every bit of restraint to not start thrusting in to you. You worked your tougue on his dick, licking up and down his shaft.

When Jason looked down the sight alone could make him spill his load. You with his thick cock stuffed in your mouth, shining with your saliva on it. Before you could make him cum he pulled out of your mouth.

”Your turn, rich boy” Jason said teasingly, you raised an amused eye brow at him.

He then helped you up from the floor. He let his unbuttoned shirt fall to the floor and stepped out of his pants and underwear that were pooled around his ankles. He then undid your belt before pushing you backwards on to your bed.

You spread your arm out on the silk white sheets feeling as if you were laying down on a cloud. Jason then started pulling your pants down your legs. You seductively pulled off your own white briefs before throwing them at Jason, hitting him in the chest.

Now you were left wearing nothing but your silver necklace and a pair of white socks. Jason took a moment to take in the pornographic sight in front of him and then climbed on to the bed and your naked bodies tangled together as you made out lustfully.

Jason’s hand trailed all the way down your back to your butt. He didn’t waste any time bringing his finger between your cheeks and pushing it inside you making you moan while your mouth was pressed to his.

He used his fingers to work you loose and open so you’d be ready to take all off him. Once he was done he pulled out a bottle of lube from you nightstand pouring a generous amount on his huge shaft.

You positioned yourself face down - ass up wanting Jason to take you like a bitch. Jason stood on his knees in front of your awaiting hole as he rubbed the lube along his length. He teased your hole with the thick tip of his cock as you whined in to the sheets impatiently.

And who was Jason to say no to a slut in need of filling.

He started working his in to your tightness as you gasped at the intrusion. He pushed himself deeper and deeper into your warmth feeling you clench around his cock. ”That’s nice” he whispered at the feeling of you tightly around his manhood.

Jason wasn’t a small man, he was hung like a horse. You let out heavy breaths as Jason slowly sunk himself in to you, streching you out even further than he’d done with his fingers. He said praises to you, watching you beneath him as his cock entered you inch by inch.

Once he had sheathed himself inside you he waited for you to adjust to the size of him. You gripped the soft sheets of the bed as you were streched out to accept Jason’s hung cock. ”Fuck” you swore.

Soon you were ready to take all of him. Jason started moving slowly as pushed himself in and out of your tightness. His hands were placed on the globes of your ass squeezing them softly in his strong hands.

You were starting to get the feeling of bliss everytime Jason was fully stuffed inside you, making you moan as he worked your ass perfectly. ”Harder Jay” you said wanting him to take you to ecstasy.

”That’s all I needed to hear, baby” Jason said with an audible smirk as he willfully obliged and sped up his thrusts, rolling his hips like a machine. He put a hand on your back pressing you in to the matress as he took you. The sound of his thrusts starting to sound out through out the room.

You gripped the sheets as Jason thrust deeper in to you, his dick jabbing at your prostate making you let out a delighted scream of pleasure. ”That’s right, N/n, scream for everybody to hear me fucking you” he said cockily.

Jason hadn’t realised until now how much he had been longing to fuck you again after your first one night stand during the party at Wayne Manor.

Jason moved his hand to your hips pulling you to meet his harsh thruts into you. Beads of sweat started forming on his forehead. He wanted you to feel all the pleasures sex could bring.

Jason made you feel as if you were seeing all the stars in the heaven, as his hung cock was shoved deep in your heat. ”So- ugh! Big!” you said through your loud moans. A cocky smile spread on Jason’s lips. He was fucking you so good you could barely talk.

As Jason roughly pounded himself deeply in to you felt yourself getting close to orgasm. ”Jay, I’m gonna cum” you whined as Jason showed no sign of slowing down his rolling thrusts.

Your shot your load and it splashed on to the silk sheets below as Jason continued plowing his cock in to you. ”You’re so fucking good around my cock” Jason said through his rapid breaths as he fully lost control and fucked you like there was no tommorow.

”I’m gonna cum” he soon told you.

”Fill me, Jay” you begged and that was all it took for Jason to plant himself deep in you ass and let his cock explode inside you, filling you with his warm sticky seed. He breathed heavily as he let all of his orgasm spill inside you.

Once he was done he slowly pulled out of you leaving your hole gaping from his cock. His seed soon started pouring out of you, running from your used warmth down your legs. Jason looked proudly at the mess he had made of you before he walked to the bathroom.

Coming back with a wet towel and started cleaning his seed off of your body. Once he was done he threw the towel aside on the floor. You turned around and laid down on your back. Jason sat down by your side and stroked your thigh, asking sweetly ”Can I get you anything? N/n”.

”Could you get my night shirt from the closet?” you asked and Jason immediately stood up looking through your closet until he brought out a glossy white silk night shirt. ”Why is everything you own white silk?” he questioned amused as he helped you put it on.

”Why not?” you simply asked back. You took off your necklace putting it on your bedside table. You and Jason both laid down side by side on your bed. Jason was on his back and you laid your head resting against his pec.

”You were amazing” Jason said placing a kiss on your head. ”You too” you said stroking his abs lovingly.

You both soon drifted off too sleep…

——

2 days later…

You sat with your laptop on your couch checking your emails. Some adds, some social stuff, nothing too intresting. You took a sip of your coffee and as you swallowed a new mail appeared on the screen.

The sender was not listed.

You opened the mail and read ”We have something you might not want to reach the media, Mr St. Cloud” which was all it said. Then you noticed there was a video attached to the mail. You pressed the file and it loaded until a video started playing.

Your eyes widend the video showed a boy getting plowed roughly by his by another guy, but you soon realised this was your bedroom. ”Harder, Jay” your voice came from the video making you gasp in shock. Then came Jason’s voice ”That’s all I needed to hear, baby”.

Someone had hidden a camera in your room filming you and Jason that night. You slammed your laptop shut and rushed upstairs in to your room. Judging by the angle of the video the video had been taken from your bedside table.

You were confused you only had your alarm clock and a bottle of water on the table… Then you noticed it, on the side of the alarm clock was a black spot - no, not a spot a small round camera lens.

You picked up the alarm clock taking a closer look at it to it to make sure. Definetely a lens. Enraged you threw the alarm clock in to the ground making it smash on impact. You stormed out of the room bringing out your phone knowing who you needed to call.

”Hey St. Cloud” Jason answered a flirty tone in his voice.

You could only find one phrase to tell him ”Jay… we’re completely fucked”.

[cornsoupflavour]

Office Space Rivalry (aespa NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

Requested by: @shockbot54

Office!Giselle/Aeri Uchinaga x Office!Male Reader

Tags: 3.4k words, rivals to lovers, wholesome?, romance, creampie, build up, office siren

You sat at your desk. It was yet another day of being a regular office worker at SM Entertainment, surrounded by piles of paperwork. In a world filled with idols and popstars, you can't help but feel a little damp about it all. The hum of the AC droned throughout the silence of the office accompanied by distant keyboard clicking.

You sat at your desk. It was yet another day of being a regular office worker at SM Entertainment, surrounded by piles of paperwork. In a world filled with idols and popstars, you can't help but feel a little damp about it all. The hum of the AC droned throughout the silence of the office accompanied by distant keyboard clicking.

Your eyes occasionally caught glimpses of Giselle, a member of aespa who had taken up a job amidst her break from stardom. Her long, dark hair flowed over her shoulders as she tapped away at her keyboard, her expression sullen and distant. You couldn't help but feel a pull towards her but stopped yourself. Her presence here has squandered your opportunities to gain a promotion, or at the very least made it ten times harder.

Giselle's hiatus from the limelight was a recent and well–kept secret. The public knew little about her personal life, only that she'd be away for a bit and won't be joining the performances. But here at SM Entertainment, the company was aware of her need for a break. She was dressed in a black blazer overcoat and a long flowy white skirt. A silver necklace with a small 'A' charm dangled between her cleavage.

The office manager passed by your desk with an air of importance. "Y/N, you'll be working with Giselle on a special project. It's for a new idol's profile, which includes a short bio, her discography, and a photoshoot concept."

You nodded in acknowledgement as your boss walked over to Giselle's desk to let her in on the same news. As he walked back to his office, you could see the disgruntled visage of Giselle peaking right above your desk divider.

You let out a drawn out sigh as you reluctantly made your way to Giselle's desk. The two of you never saw eye to eye, and your distaste for her was palpable. Maybe it was your jealousy... Maybe it was just that you wanted her so bad and you couldn't admit it to yourself. Giselle, on the other hand, couldn't stand your uppity attitude, regarding you as just another brown–noser.

"Good morning, Giselle. Looks like we've been assigned to work on a project together." you said, your voice monotonous and devoid of emotion.

Giselle looked up, her eyes narrowing. "Fantastic," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

With that, the two of you began to begrudgingly work on the project together. Your dislike for each other radiated from your pores. As you two scrolled through the new idol's information and material. Giselle would intentionally misplace important folders, and you would occasionally interrupt her while she was voicing out an idea to steal said idea. This back and forth would increase in passive–aggressive animosity gradually for the course of the first few weeks of the project.

On the first checkpoint, the two of you presented a draft of the idol's profile. The manager looked pleased and thanked you for your hard work. "It's a great start, and I believe with a few more tweaks, we'll have a solid profile. Keep up the good work, you two."

You and Giselle both nodded, unable to muster a smile. As you parted ways back to your respective desks, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered between you. It was like, despite not clicking on a personal level, you and Giselle complement each other well on a business level. It had been a tiring, stressful and oddly entertaining few weeks, but you two had made some progress... with the project, of course.

As the weeks dragged on, the project began to slowly take shape. You found yourself unable to deny the professional synergy between the two of you. Giselle, as an idol with experience, gave insight into the music industry, allowing you to form a cohesive and realistic looking profile for the idol. This gave you two the edge and even sped up the progress by a substantial amount.

As you worked on the profile, you found Giselle's opinions invaluable, much to your chagrin. Every time you'd disagree, you couldn't help but reflect on it when you got home and realised how right she was. She knew exactly how to word things to make the new idol's story more relatable and engaging. It pained you to agree or even highlight her ideas and opinions but... her knowledge is what helped you two progress this far.

The discography was a slightly different beast. Giselle's experience in the studio helped guide the project in the right direction. You'd listen to the songs she recommended, incorporating them into the discography, and as a result, the new idol's work was steadily becoming more cohesive. Despite still being in aespa, Giselle opted for you to go through the discography of other groups and idols.

The photoshoot concept was where Giselle shined the most. With her fashion sense and styling, she could see the complete picture of how an idol's story should be told through visuals. Not wanting to let the rivalry go, you'd argue over the smallest details, like the color palette and the type of props. Much to your dismay however, you'd eventually settle on something that worked for both of you.

Tensions between the two of you had seemingly eased. You were unable to pick her apart anymore for you never had a reason to. It felt like you might be on the path of... becoming friends... You found yourself laughing at her sarcastic remarks and even cracking a joke or two. The project brought you closer in a way you didn't expect. You could feel yourself wanting to be closer, wanting to be around her, wanting... her? However, there was still a simmering animosity there, like a fuse waiting to be lit.

On the day of the final presentation, the two of you were decked out in your respective work attire. Giselle was in a short, black dress with long sleeves that hugged her waist and curves, paired with black, knee–high boots. You, on the other hand, were in a navy blue suit with a crisp, white shirt beneath. Once again, you felt your disdain towards her challenged as the way she dressed sent an odd feeling surging through your body. It's like you couldn't look away.

The two waited in a meeting room, sat on opposite sides of the long desk. The manager walked in, his expression impressed. "This is fantastic work, you two. You've done an excellent job in bringing this new idol's profile to life. It's a perfect reflection of who she is. I should put you on more projects together."

The moment the manager left, Giselle smirked. "You know, for a minute there, I almost thought we were a team." Her tone was slightly aggravating, and her words were a clear jab at you.

You clenched your jaw, the familiar dislike and disdain for her bubbling back up. "Y–Yeah, well, it was all an act on my end. You're lucky I needed this project to succeed." The words were spoken without a single glance in her direction. You felt an odd ache in your heart, it was almost as if you actually thought things were straightening out between the two of you.

Giselle's eyes narrowed, and she stood from the desk with a huff. "Whatever. I'm going to head out for lunch. I'm too hungry for this right now, Y/N." With that, she stormed off.

You shook your head, letting out a sigh as you stood from the desk as well. You made your way to the desk to lay your stuff down before heading out of the building to grab lunch, you noticed that it seemed to be raining heavily and brought your coat with you. That's when you spot a familiar curvy figure at the building's entrance, hiding just out of sight. You walked over to her as you stepped out of the sliding glass doors.

"I thought you were heading off to lunch, what happened?" you asked, your tone smug.

Giselle looked up at you, obviously not pleased to see you, "...are you blind or something? It's raining, and I haven't got an umbrella. I'm just gonna sit here and wait it out."

You playfully pouted as you too looked out at the pouring rain. You sighed and hung your head. "Get up." You gestured for her to stand up before taking your own coat off and handing it to her.

She hesitated before grabbing it reluctantly and scurrying off into the rain.

"HEY– THAT'S MY COAT–" you chased her as she ran.

You couldn't help but stand for a moment and laugh to yourself as this hiatus–ridden idol ran through the rain using your suit coat as cover. You shook your head before braving the downpour yourself, trying to catch up with, but she seemed to be quite fast. Her black dress hugged her curvy frame, and for a moment, you couldn't help but admire how well it fit her. Wet strands of her hair clung to her face as she turned back to face you teasingly, and you couldn't help but feel a swell of protectiveness.

You ran through the rain as she did the same. Eventually, you caught up to her, finding shelter under a building. "Jeez, for someone in high heels– you run fast..." Giselle glanced at you, a hint of a smirk forming. "Yeah? Well, I'm hungry, sorry if you can't keep up~" she tossed the wet coat into your arms, granting a look of slight discomfort from you.

You began to ring your coat out as she approached you once more, "When you're done, just come and find me. I guess I could let you eat with me." As quickly as she approached, she left, back towards the table. 

About half an hour passed, you sat adjacent to her, enjoying a delicious meal. "Thanks for the jacket... by the way." You raised your head from your meal, nodding with your mouth full. "Don't worry about it. Figured it was the least I could do since you kinda helped us get the project done as quick as we did."

"Sorry for throwing your jacket back at you..." she apologised with a hint of brattiness. It was as if she wasn't really sorry. "It's fine. You don't like me and I was kinda expecting you'd do that."

She sighed before turning to face you, "And what do you want in return?" She batted her eyes, her confidence and sex appeal on full display.

You cleared your throat, feeling the heat in your cheeks. "Uh... Just pay for lunch, and we're cool," you stuttered out, trying to play it cool.

"Fine," Giselle replied, her face returning back to looking void.

As you two continued eating, Giselle started to open up. She wasn't letting you in on her lore, but more of just, coming out of her shell and speaking to you. You found yourself laughing at her jokes, enjoying her quips and sarcasm. The more time you spent with her, the more you realized you were starting to fall for her. You couldn't deny the way her gaze made your stomach flutter, or how her touch sent shivers down your spine.

Giselle, however, tried to maintain her distance. Every time she caught you staring, she'd make a snide comment or change the subject. You could see the unapproving glare in her eyes, but it only fueled your desire to win her over. It wasn't that she hated you, she was just, not into like that... not yet, at least.

However, as time went on, more lunches and work sessions went by, and Giselle began to open up around you. The sarcastic remarks became more playful, and the subtle glares disappeared.

One evening, a few minutes till the end of the work day, your manager approached your desk to let you know that you and Giselle will be joining the new idol on a tour. You looked up, your expression surprised. "What do you mean? You want us to buy tickets for all her shows?"

"What? No– You two will be joining her as she goes around for her tours. I'll book you one extra room for you two to share because that's how much we've got left of the budget. No funny business, or do, I don't really care."

His voice growled at the end as he turned and walked to Giselle's desk to tell her the exact same thing. As he left, you could see Giselle's eyes poking right above the desk dividers, a knowing eyebrow raise etched on her face. A few days go by and you two have found yourself in a hotel room together after the new idol's first performance. Giselle, now much more comfortable with you than before, leaned in close to you, her chest almost touching your arm. "Y/N, I think you've done a great job with this project," she whispered in your ear. You could feel her warm breath, and your heart raced.

"Wha– Huh?" you stuttered, your cheeks burning red.

She smirked before returning to unpack her things. "You wanna go out for a drink?" She asked, her ass swaying in the air as she reached down for her suitcase. You couldn't help but be drawn to her, like she was some sort of siren. You slowly approached her before deciding to grab her waist and gently buck yours against hers.

"What are you doing?" Giselle asked, standing back up. "You need something?"

You snapped out of your trance–like state, "Huh? What? Oh, uhh nothing. Sorry, just uhh– Yeah, it's nothing." You waddled back to your side of the room, blinking sporadically. "Yeah, I'd be down for some drinks." Giselle raised an eyebrow at you, not entirely sure of what just happened, but decided to brush it off.

You both arrived at the bar later that night and ordered a cocktail each. Giselle sipped her cocktail, her hair tousled, and her makeup a tad smudged from the hectic day of watching over this new idol. But your gaze settled on Giselle, entranced. As the night went on, the air grew thick with flirtation.

Eventually, Giselle reached out and took your hand, her fingers entwined with yours. "Y/N, I don't know what it is about you, but you've grown on me," she admitted, her eyes searching for yours, unsure.

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. "And I've grown on you, too, Giselle," you responded, feeling the weight of the world lift off your shoulders. It was an odd feeling. You could tell she was still quite reserved but she said it. You'd grown onto her. Maybe... just maybe, you should seize this opportunity, with a kiss...

You leaped into her arms, pulling her close for a passionate, deep kiss. The grumpy and unapproving façade slipped away, replaced by passion and desire. Her tongue began to intertwine with yours, as both your hands gripped onto her ass. Was this the cocktails? Certainly not, right? It can't be that you two got this drunk over one cocktail.

But alas, it wasn't the alcohol. It was the gradual build up of desire fostered through business rivalry and the need to be better than the other. You couldn't take it anymore, you lifted her into a bridal carry and rushed her back to the hotel room. Your frantic movements looked as though you were about to piss your pants. You probably were, but not due to poor bladder management, maybe just excitement.

Once in, you slammed the door shut, still holding Giselle in your arms. You could feel her heart racing against your chest, echoing yours. With a smirk, you laid her on the bed, the sheets crinkling beneath her. Giselle's plaid skirt clung to her hips and thighs, and her black lace panties revealed themselves.

She nodded, a hungry look in her eyes. "Then have me~ Take them off, Y/N."

You slowly pulled her panties down, until they reached her ankles. Giselle lifted her legs, slipping them off, revealing her moist, wet folds. Your cock twitched, eager to be enveloped by her. You licked your fingers before gliding two of them over her folds.

You unbuttoned your shirt, letting Giselle gaze at and caress your chest with her fingers. "Damn, you were hiding that from me?" Your pants pooled somewhere on the room floor as you lined yourself up with her entrance. Giselle laid there, her eyes teasing but also begging. She adjusted her glasses and rolled her top up, just enough for her gorgeous twin girls to be seen, still confined by her lacey black bra, but not enough for her top to be off.

"Not yet, Y/N~ You wanna see them? Feel them? You've gotta earn it~" She teased, tracing your jawline with her finger. She reached up and grabbed you by the back of your neck, pulling you in for another, intense kiss. The kiss was deep, hungry, and passionate, your tongues mingling as you plunged yourself into her.

Breaking the kiss, you feel your cock bottom her out, the tip of your cock already dripping with pre–cum inside her. "FUCK– YOU'RE SO TIGHT–" Giselle's eyes widen as she feels you inside her for the first time.

"NNGH~ Fuck yes, Y/N!" she responded, her voice shaky with desire.

You smirked as you began to pound her roughly, your lips unable to pull themselves away from hers. She bit her lip, moaning softly.

"Aahh, Y/N, I'm...", she let out a breathy moan, "...so full. You feel so fucking good, Y/N."

You smirked, thrusting in and out of her slow and steady at first. Giselle's legs wrapped around your waist, her nails digging in.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." Giselle moaned, arching her back, hips moving to match your thrusts.

Giselle's desire is burned brightly within her, and you loved feeling the power of being inside her. You're in control, the rhythm of your thrusts increasing in speed, causing Giselle's moans to grow louder.

"Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don't stop... Mmmf~" Giselle encouraged, her moans garnering more intensity.

You couldn't, you wouldn't stop. Your thrusts quicken, your hips slamming into her, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. You lean down to kiss her, your mouths crashing together, your tongues tangling, each thrust aligning with a sharp inhale from Giselle.

The heat between the two of you was intoxicating, and Giselle's moans grew louder, her grip on your back tightening. You can feel the walls of her pussy gripping you tighter and tighter, milking you for all you're worth.

"You like this, don't you? You like feeling my cock bottom you out."

Giselle nodded, her eyes rolling out as her tongue stuck out. You leaned down and used your teeth to lift her bra off her tits before helping yourself to them. You flicked each nipple with your tongue, letting your head swim onto them like a baby being breastfed.

"Y/N, I'm... I'm gonna cum... oh, God, Y/N," she panted, her walls clenching around you as she reached her climax. "Please– Kiss me–"

She pressed her lips onto yours as she let herself indulge in your taste. She felt your cock twitch and throb within her. "Cum inside me. Breed me."

Hearing the way she begged and commanded nearly pushed you over the edge. "I'm... I'm close, Giselle..." you panted, your thrusts became more frantic, the build–up to climax an intense, heady feeling.

Giselle's eyes fluttered open, her face flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Cum with me, Y/N, I want to feel you cum inside me. Fill. Me. Up."

You gripped the sheets tightly, your thrusts growing more erratic, your cock pulsating inside her.

"Oh God, Giselle– I'm gonna cum~!" you shouted, your cock twitching, the tip of your cock pulsating inside her, spurts of hot, thick cum flooding her insides, your body trembling. Giselle screamed as she orgasmed, her pussy clamping down onto your shaft. She shuddered and gasped.

You collapsed on top of her, chest heaving, a mixture of sweat and lust coating your bodies. "Fuck– Giselle– I– I–" you struggled, pressing a kiss to her lips, spent.

She's panting, her chest rising and falling. "That was... unexpected... We should uhm... do more of that... maybe not tonight, but we definitely should..." Giselle says, her hand tracing your back, her fingertips gentle, her eyes filled with a newfound appreciation for you.

You smile, gazing at her, "I agree, I came so hard... But I'm glad I could... surprise you, Giselle."

Her smile is small, tender, her eyes soft and forgiving. "Yeah..."

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[keerysfreckles]

the things i do — MV1

pairing: max verstappen x gn!reader

summary: you love max's thighs

warnings: super duper short sorry:(, no specific pronouns used

a/n: max's thighs brainrot. no one talk to me.

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

you loved max's thighs.

you weren't sure when the small obsession started, but ever since it's only been growing.

when he's in the passenger seat of the car, you're hand is always on his thigh. fingers brushing over the material of his jeans or bare thigh.

max had never questioned it. it was just normal in the relationship now. whether it be your hand on his thigh, leaving kisses on his thigh in the early mornings, or sitting on his thighs while engulfing him in a hug.

your love for the body part was more of a private thing between you two. out in the paddock you were always holding his hand, and giving him a tight hug before a race. just never appreciating his thighs in public. and you were both okay with that.

once behind closed doors, it seemed more intimate, yet it wasn't sexual.

this brings you where you are this morning. a tuesday morning in max's monaco apartment, after he won the japanese grand prix the past weekend.

you were relaxing as an old movie played on the living room tv. max was coming from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in his hands, making you sit up from your position on the couch.

you pat the spot next to you. max chuckles at your eagerness, knowing exactly where you'll lay once he sits down.

his theory was correct as you immediately lay your head on his thighs. his fingers make their way to your hair, twisting the strands slightly as he pulls his fingers through.

he knew this was how most of the morning would be spent, but he wouldn't ask for it any other way.