#yes i gave him a cleft lip

[demonsjimdemons]

Not picking favorites, but I sure do draw Doc Q a lot

SAVE ME DOC Q, IM IN LOVE WITH YOU !!!!

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

requested by @bonesartblog kiss that devil!!!! (you probably wanted something wholesome but it came out super horny lol sorry)

Read on AO3

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The razor held so close to his face, to the tender skin of his throat. Her hands did not tremble; his trust did not waver.

Tav shaved Raphael slow and careful, focused but taking some secret enjoyment out of moving his head the way she wanted to catch the shadow on the curve of his jaw. He shifted where he sat in a plush chair in his boudoir. He was a very patient man, but he also liked irritating her.

“Stop it,” she grumbled, working to remove an obstinate patch of brisk hairs in the cleft of his chin. Even seated, he was still so big she didn’t have to stoop to reach it.

“This is so dreadfully dull, mouse,” he retorted, sounding as put-upon as possible. Tav knew it was a farce. No one loved being fussed over more than Raphael did. Especially if she was the one doing the fussing.

“It wouldn’t take so long if you’d just sit still.”

“I am sitting still.” He punctuated his point by crossing his legs. Tav gave him a flat look. He blinked slowly at her, amusement sparkling in his pretty eyes. “Might I remind you that you were the one who insisted I needed to shave?”

“Yes, because your stubble kept scratching me. Particularly in…more tender places, you know.” Tav busied herself with her work, ignoring the lascivious and satisfied smile that curled her devil’s mouth. “Besides, I’m almost finished. You can handle waiting a little longer, can’t you?”

“Hmm.”

His skin was so warm beneath her fingers. It thrilled Tav to touch Raphael like this, intimate without the frenzy of sex, but she struggled to maintain eye contact for more than brief moments as she scraped away stubble and soap from his sculpted features. He always watched her so intensely, in a way no one ever had or could ever match, and sometimes it was overwhelming. She saw the inescapable rings of fire that were his irises often in her deepest dreams.

“There.” Using the towel in his lap, Tav wiped him clean and stepped back. “Done.”

Raphael rubbed a hand over his jaw. If he was looking for imperfections, he found none.

“Adequate,” he said. “Though I suppose it requires further testing to be completely sure.”

“What do you mean?”

The devil uncrossed his legs, spread them, slouching back into a far more relaxed posture. “Come here.”

He still made her heart flutter and her stomach swoop like she was a schoolgirl with a crush, and the way he looked right then had her a little weak in the knees. Thin white shirt unbuttoned, trousers loose, barefoot. His hair was still damp from his recent bath. A few locks escaped from the lazy combing he’d given it with his fingers. They hung tantalizingly between his horns. Tug me, they whispered. Dark curls peppered his broad chest and soft middle, tempting her further. His tail swayed ever so slightly, those big gorgeous leathery wings splayed out. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his expression the ghost of a smirk. A devastating and dangerous creature.

Tav went to him gladly.

His hot breath tickled her face and she shut her eyes in anticipation, humming quietly as he kissed her. Deliberately slow, gentle, indulgent presses of his plush thin lips to hers, the corners of her mouth, just shy of the deeper connection she wanted. No self-respecting devil does all the hard work, after all, so Tav pressed herself closer. Entombed by his thick thighs either side. She let one hand settle on his chest, fingers splayed. His heart beat strong and steady beneath them. Her other hand went around his neck to tangle in his silky hair and she kissed him hard. He tasted like cherry soap and smoke. She couldn’t get enough, consuming his cocky huff of amusement at her open display of desire. Yet he returned her passion. One big cambion paw grasped her chin and her neck both, gently tilting her face the way he wanted now so he could sup upon her lips, drink each gasp and sigh he pulled from her, coax her mouth open to push his forked tongue behind her teeth. His other hand squeezed her backside, claws digging in. He groaned throatily when she sucked on his roaming tongue.

“Mm…I did a good job,” Tav said breathlessly when they broke apart, a thin ribbon of saliva still connecting them. She peppered kisses and bites along his chin and jaw. Grinned into his smooth skin when she felt his growing interest. “But there’s still a few other places to test…”

“On the bed, my little mouse,” the devil growled. “Now.”

[makeyoumine69]

Heya! I finally came up with a combination 🤣

18, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, baby girl

— A/N: Hello my dear! Finally, I finished your prompt and I hope you like it! I love you so much! 🖤💗🖤 Amazing gif by @melis-writes

— [MASTERLIST] 🪓 [1k CELEBRATION MASTERLIST] 🪓 [support writer]

When you finally found out you were pregnant, Patrick couldn't hide his excitement because he had waited so long for this to happen. He loved everything about the way your body was changing, especially your cute bump and curvy hips. 

Bateman became so overprotective of you and your future child that he followed you around and helped you with everything you did, even when it came to taking a bath.

"Honey, get down a bit lower," Patrick murmured, sitting behind you in the tub. "You like that?"

You just purred in return as he gently washed your back. Chuckling, he couldn't take his eyes off of your pretty little form. 

"God, you're so beautiful," his raspy voice sent shivers down your spine. "So juicy, so round."

Patrick let out a guttural growl when he saw your soaped pussy as you bent over even more. Biting his lower lip, he placed his large palm on your buttock, barely caressing it, but then his thin finger made a long stroke along your delicate petals, causing a loud gasp to escape your lips.

"Daddy...a-aww!" You frowned as his long digit slid up and down your feverish slit, teasing your clit with light rubs. 

The lewd sounds you were making evoked something primal in his gut, and now he couldn't control his urge to be inside that little tight pussy. Slowly, Bateman pushed his index finger into your succulent cunt, inducing your toes to curl. Mewling, you turned to face him, his brown eyes now full of lust.

"No, no, no, baby girl. Don't look at me like that," he groaned when he saw your innocent glance. "I'm gonna treat that pussy right, just like she deserves."

Licking his lips briefly, he shoved his finger further into your blushing cleft, curling and twisting it a bit, your soft walls beginning to spasm almost instantly. 

"Good girl," Bateman praised you for the way your body responded to his ministrations as he pumped his engorged cock. "Fuck, seeing you like this, with your pregnancy bump, turns me on so bad. Did you know that?"

Damn, this kind of dirty talk was completely ruining your mind, making you forget about any self-respect, because you were such a slut for this man. 

"Patrick, p-please!" You leaned against the edge of the tub as you felt him settle himself behind you. 

With your eyes closed you could only moan and shiver as you were in his power. Thrilled, Patrick quickly pulled out his finger and sucked off your sweet flavor before giving your ass several light slaps.

"Stay still," he urged, pushing down on your back to bend you lower. "Mmm, what a view." Bateman crooned, rubbing his leaky tip along your swollen folds.

When your bodies finally bonded, you both gasped, feeling totally numb. His strong arms gave you no chance to pull away from him as he began to ram himself into you, opening your tight inner channel with each thrust of his sturdy hips, and the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh inflamed you from the inside, bringing you to your release too quickly.

"Argh, fuck!" Bateman gasped, pulling his wet hair away from his beautiful face. "I... I can't wait to make you pregnant once again! Mmmhm-gonna drown this juicy little hole in my cum."

"Daddy! S-so deep...aww! It's so so deep! Mmmm..." You cried out, wriggling in his grip, not noticing the water splashing around you as he fucked you right into the edge of the bathtub. 

"Awwww, it hurts? Too bad...you're going to keep taking it until I'm satisfied!" He pulled at your hair while his other hand was wrapped around your round belly for support. "Yes...take that dick like Daddy's obedient girl!"

Whimpering, you looked up at him and as your gazes locked, Bateman let out a moan of satisfaction and kissed your forehead as the pure devotion he saw in your eyes was taking him higher than any known drug.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[huramuna]

the calico bastard - chapter 2.

 aemond targaryen x strong bastard oc (series) previous part | next part

summary: After his takeover of Harrenhal, Aemond encounters a dreamy-eyed, wistful bastard of House Strong, who piques his interest and changes the course of Westerosi history.

 warnings: smut (eventually), angst, canon typical violence, canon typical misogyny. will add more as I go through each chapter. 

wordcount: 2.3k

a/n: alys rivers doesn’t exist in this universe, alysanne takes her place somewhat. a/n 2: this is my first fic, i got the courage to post it -- please be nice n' leave a like if this interests you!

wuthering heights - kate bush • leave me for dead - GAYLE

Ser Daunton knocked on the door, “Your grace, your… serving girl is ready.” 

Alysanne shuffled next to him, settling down the errant puff of her dress. Once, twice, thrice. 

“Enter,” Aemond’s voice rang out from behind the chamber door, “Only her— thank you, Ser Daunton.” 

The grizzled soldier gave an almost imperceptible sigh, looking at Alysanne. “Good luck, lass.” he spoke quietly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in almost an apology. 

She took a deep inhale of air, nodding her head. She pushed in the heavy oak door, struggling slightly. The old hinges shrieked, begging to be oiled or tended to— it's how most things in Harrenhal fared. Screaming for care, for more than desolation and decay. 

But that was a part of the curse of the castle, wasn’t it?

She closed it behind her, not daring yet to look in the room. It was warm, the soft crackling of a fire were the only sounds in the room— besides a tapping. An errant drumming, as if in impatience. 

It was Aemond, knocking his forefinger and middle on the wooden arm of the chair facing the fire. The taps seemed to time with the rising beat of Alysanne’s heart. 

“Well? Are you going to stand there all eve, girl? Or mayhaps, do your job.” he said, a tinge of agitation. 

She hummed a nervous agreement, walking to the armoire, where she grabbed a decanter of wine and a goblet. 

The red liquid poured and poured until it reached the rim of the goblet, to which she presented to Aemond. She didn’t dare look at his face, her eyes downcast at some imperceptible point, wide and unfocused. 

Despite her best efforts to not look directly at him, she saw the corners of his mouth, which usually rested in a smug grin— not out of happiness or glee, but perhaps superiority— twist into something of amusement. 

Amusement— amusement? Why was he amused? Surely nothing was funny. Mayhaps she looked humorous to him. 

“Have you ever poured wine before?” he asked then, taking the goblet from her with one swift movement, sipping from it. 

She shook her head, looking at the cup— it was practically overflowing. “No.” she answered, squeezing her hands together, the nail of her thumb sinking into the soft flesh of her palm. 

“That is quite obvious— you should never fill it to the top,” he said, perking a brow, “Unless, you’re my brother, of course.” he added, almost as an afterthought. Something that earned a half-hearted sniff from him, as if he couldn’t even laugh at his own joke. 

Alysanne’s eyes came up further now, landing on the soft curve of his lips and the cleft of his chin— she didn’t make eye contact, but was coming increasingly closer to doing so. 

“I will keep that in mind, my grace,” she murmured. 

He stopped, putting the goblet aside, “It's ‘your grace’,” he corrected. 

“… your grace,” she parroted, sinking her nails deeper into her palm. She felt her chest heat up in a familiar feeling— embarrassment. 

“I can’t fault you— your father must’ve not taught you a thing,” he continued, leaning back in the chair, “Do you even know how to read, hm?” 

She puffed out her lip indignantly, “Yes— I know how to read,” her voice taking a dangerous edge. She caught herself, biting down on her cheek, “your grace.” 

Aemond shifted, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, “Look at me.” he asked, commanded, rather. 

Alysanne bit into her cheek until she tasted blood, lifting her head shakily. She hated looking people in the eyes— it was too vulnerable, as if she were a sheep showing the soft of their belly to a wolf. It felt as if they could read her thoughts and use them against her, as if her own sight was weaponized against her.

Their gazes finally met, violet eye to violet eye— Alysanne felt her heart stop, clenching as if an icy fist was closing around it. But then it stopped, her chest stilling as she zeroed in on his lone eye– she thought it quite curious, they had the same shade of violet. It was the color of a sun bleached lavender flower, piercing. 

He had put his eyepatch back on, as well, his sapphire gem eye no longer on display like it had been in the courtyard. Her eyes glazed over the jagged scar jutting above and down his otherwise smooth face. She felt her eyebrows knit in a slight confusion. 

“I don’t wish to scare you— or any lady, for that matter,” he said then, his voice taking on a softer tone– a soft voiced dragon is still a dragon, the fire quelled to ashes for a moment or two– the right corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

She caught that, too. People may think her to be simpleminded and dimwitted, and mayhaps she was in some ways, but she noticed things that other people did not. She knew when to watch without being watched herself. 

“You shan’t scare me,” she replied, her hands finally unclasping, “I’ve seen much and more horrid things than a sapphire eye.” 

Another twitch of his mouth, and an impalpable, brief knit of his brow, “Hm.” he hummed, taking another sip of the overfilled wine glass with one hand, his other resuming its tapping on the arm of the chair. 

She looked away for a moment, taking in the decor and surroundings of the room– this was Lord Simon’s room previously– but his things had been cleared out quickly. But she still felt his ghost, wheezing and coughing as he usually did.

When she turned back to Aemond, his hand was extended– he was offering her… the wine glass? Her brow furrowed.

“I won’t drink this by myself, you poured enough for two people– so you shall reap the consequences of your mistake, hm?” he hummed again, “It isn’t bad wine, I will give the Strong lord that much.”

She stepped backwards, as if remembering that she was too close. “I don’t drink wine– it's an unfit… privilege for someone like me,” she grumbled, giving a half-hearted excuse. The truth was, she had never had even a drop before. As far as vices went, she was more inclined to consume sugary treats rather than alcohol, which to her experience, made people act like moldering fools. 

“Come, drink. Drink to the health of the King, or mayhaps the memory of Ser Simon, your kin, was he not?” 

Alysanne ground her teeth together, staring an indignant stare right into Aemond’s remaining eye. She took the goblet, moreso, snatched it– and took a sip, a rather big one. She had expected it to taste like the juice of sweet fruits, perhaps like the runny filling of a cherry pie, or a compote of blueberry and raspberry. She regret her choice right away, her body screaming at her to expel the disgustingly tart and acrid liquid.

This seemed to amuse the prince, the corner of his eye crinkling in mirth, “You want to spit it out, don’t you?” 

She nodded vehemently, begging for silent permission to retch the imbibement from her mouth.

“Swallow.” was all he said.

She glared at him, feeling as if her eyes were bulging out of her head, her throat was burning from keeping it in her mouth, the sting of the alcohol worming its way into any nook and crevice it could find. She shook her head in disagreement.

“Swallow.” he said again, standing up now. His form towered over her, even more so than before, their difference in height about a foot.

Reluctantly, she did so– the soft of her throat bobbing as she swallowed the wine. She felt sick to her stomach, backing up farther away from him. “Y-you suffocate me, too close, too close,” she grumbled under her breath, inhaling and exhaling to try to quell the unease rising in her body.

And yet, he didn’t relent– he stepped closer, until her heels were being warmed by the flames in the hearth, her back pressed to the chiseled stone. He loomed over her like an oppressive force, stealing the oxygen from her lungs, growing his own fire by stamping hers out. “Do I scare you, bastard?” he asked then, his breath warm and tinged with the scent of the wine, as was hers. His arms boxed her in against the fireplace.

“You’re too close, dragon– do not touch me,” she hissed, “Why do you insist on snuffing out my flame?” 

Then, his hand went to her face, encapsulating her chin and jaw with just one palm. He was speaking– something garbled and unintelligible. Her eyes glazed over as the sounds of the fire faded, the blood rushing to her ears. The sides of her vision blackened for a few moments– before flashing images came over her.

“You’ve lived too long, uncle.” Aemond spoke, mounting Vhagar with practiced ease.

“On that, we agree.” Daemon responded, already saddled on his bloodwyrm, the ancestral sword Dark Sister strapped at his side. 

It was all gnashing teeth and flames spewing, the cries of dragon, both human and not, echoing. They were in the sky, over the expanse of the God’s Eye, locked in a battle of claws and scales.

The straps, the straps– Aemond, Aemond, the straps– Alysanne felt herself screaming– why was she screaming? Why was she here? Why did she care about their fate? Why– Aemond, unstrap yourself– 

Her cries felt like wails into the void, like shrieking underwater and not hearing a thing– Daemon was already unstrapped from the saddle, he was ready, positioning himself for a strike. 

Aemond saw what Alysanne saw, too late– he was fumbling with his own rigging, undoing the leather bindings of the saddle, and when realizing that wouldn’t work, he reached for his sword– too late. Too late.

Dark Sister plunged through his eye– his sapphire eye, the sharp tip of the blade coming out of the back of his head, his sickly screams snapping to an end, in a synchronization with his dragon, the mighty and ancient Vhagar, named after a God– all four of them plunged into the depths of the God’s Eye, sinking down, down… 

Alysanne closed her eyes, opening them in succession once more, blinking once, twice, thrice– she was back in Harrenhal, back against the hearth. Aemond, who was still very much alive and not skewered through the head, was looking at her, or through her– his brow furrowed in concern. Concern? Yes, surely, concern– and not the concern of a dragon– but mayhaps a person.

A person who had seen something before like this. He was murmuring something, not realizing that she had regained consciousness. 

“Helaena… Helaena…” he whispered, “I’m sorry, Helaena.” 

Helaena? His queen sister, Helaena? Alysanne had heard of her before– of course, how could she not– The eccentric and odd queen, a fascination with bugs– now grief stricken and unresponsive after witnessing the murder of her son, Jaehaerys. They say that Helaena always muttered to herself, incomprehensible rhythms, poems– it did sound quite familiar, didn’t it?

Alysanne forced herself to let out an audible sigh, as if to snap out the prince from his reverie– to act as if she had just woken up. She felt like she had witnessed something she shouldn’t have– a moment of vulnerability from him when he thought no one was looking.

She felt his posture go stiff and rigid, his breath blowing atop her head through flared nostrils. “Can you stand?” he asked, his steelheart grip on her not relenting just yet.

“... think so,” she murmured, looking to that far-off point once again, trying to detach herself from the situation. 

He then let her go, slowly, steadying her for a moment to make sure she wouldn’t fall over like a broken doll– before stepping back, back, back to the far end of the room.

His hand was at his chin, the other at the side of his head, the scarred side. His fingers were looped under the strap of his eyepatch. His jaw was set in a rigid line, his knuckles turning white from exertion, a vein popping at the side of his head– the unmistakable image of pain.

Not just an emotional pain, but a physical pain.

“... you’re in pain.” Alysanne murmured, forgetting herself, forgetting the situation– forgetting who she was– all she could see was his pain, not just now, but in her vision– or mayhaps, her delusion– the heartwrenching, stomach churning wail of Aemond as Dark Sister pierced his skull–

A small fraction of that affliction haunted him now. At her voice, he turned to her, his lip twitching more, just like before. He looked like the cornered animal now– even though she wasn’t in closer proximity– his violet eye narrowed to what looked like a slit. He was the very image of an animal with a broken leg, snapping and gnashing at those who got close.

 “Leave. Now.” he grit out, his hand now clawing at his eyepatch to take it off, “LEAVE.”

Alysanne didn’t wish to test him any longer– a cornered animal would bite, and he was on that verge. She picked up her skirts and promptly left, bursting through the heavy wooden door and slamming it behind her, most likely waking the ghosts that flitted through the halls.

Only when she reached her room– her closet– she took a breath, ripping the corset and kirtle from her body, leaving her in the silken shift. Her hands worked doubletime to unbraid her hair and let it flow down in waves before her fingers sank into the tresses at her scalp, gripping tightly, attempting to ground herself in reality and not spin out of control.

What had just happened? What exactly did she see? When would this happen?

And what could she do to stop it?

[towriteloveontheirarms]

"Epilogue"- Once in a lifetime chance (Midsommar AU) Chapter 4

part 4 of 4 || series masterlist || previous part

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: As you gaze at Aemond burning body you ask yourself how you ended up where you were.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: mentions of character death, talk of mental health issues, mentions of an unhealty relationship, afab reader

series taglist: @moonlightazriel, @daenerysqueenofhearts, @bellaisasleep

general HotD taglist: @urmomsgirlfriend1

general taglist: @hopelesswritergall

(As always, if you want to be tagged in any character / Series / general fandom taglist, send a comment, ask or DM my way.❤️)

Your lips part from how wide the corners of your mouths pick up, wrinkling the corners of your eyes as well. By the time the flames have consumed almost the entire hut and the screams become quieter, you turn around, trying to get away from it. You had seen enough, but the masses of flowers over your body weigh you down, making your steps slow, small and heavy. And while you do so, you ask yourself how things could go so wrong, when it had started out so great.

The two of you had just started uni. And you had run late to one of the classes you shared. Leaving only one seat in the room. Right in the middle of the room. Beside him. When you sat down beside him, he had given you a side eye so massive you shrunk under his gaze. It wasn´t like you to be late and he didn´t make it any better. Yet you couldn´t keep your eyes from him as he pulled his hair back with an elastic, to keep it out of his face, and pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose. A nose that immediately brought you the most impure thoughts you had had in your entire life until then. And when you approached him after class, to ask him about his notes, as you didn´t have the chance to take many, he seems actually nice about it. Despite the scrutinizing look he gave you earlier. Though he does warn you to not make this a habit and to get the notes back to him as soon as possible so he could use them to study.

“I promise. I´ll bring them back to you before tonight.” You smile at him and carefully put the notes into your bag.

Now that he has pulled off his glasses you can see his face a bit better too. The gorgeous lilac color of his eyes, the curve of his nose and the cleft at the tip of it, the shape of his cupids bow and lastly his chin and cheek bones. He looked beautiful and the scar on the left half of his face nothing to take away from that beauty.

And you made sure to keep that promise. Copying them after classes where over, you packed them up and made your way over to his dorm. Standing in front of it, you hesitate for a moment, but ultimately knock on it. Immediately the music that softly sounded through the walls turns off and he stands in front of you. Hair still pulled back and glasses back on Aemond leans against the frame.

“Yes?”

“I um… I came to bring back your notes, like I promised. Thank you again. I won´t make a habit of needing to borrow them.”

“Good.” His tone is as cold as always when he speaks, but you think you see the corners of his mouth raise slightly in a teasing smirk. When he goes to close the door on you again you surprise the both of you by doing something you had never done before.

“Actually…” You speak up again. “Would you… Would you like to get some coffee or tea sometime? My treat, as a little thank you.”

You shuffle your feet as you wait for his answer. Palms turning moist with impatience at his answer. It wasn´t usually your style to ask someone you had just met for basically a date, especially when you didn´t even know if they had a girlfriend, but something about Aemond was different. He brought out a different side of you even after barely talking once already.

“Yes, I would like that.” He replies. “Does thursday afternoon sound good?”

“Uhm, yeah. I have a short day thursday so that’s actually perfect.” You stutter, surprised he had agreed.

“Perfect. I´ll pick you up at your dorm once I am done then.” You nod at his suggestion. Telling him where to find your dorm and then you wait until he closes the door in front of you. Only then you practically dance your way back to your room, unable to contain the joy.

Thursday comes along quicker than you could have anticipated and with a curt knock at the door, Aemond picks you up. He takes you into the city to a small, but cozy old coffeeshop that is nothing like the on campus. The two of you sit, drink coffee and talk. About anything and everything. School, family, free time. You feel drawn to him and when he drops you off back at your room you don´t want him to leave. Nevertheless you chastely kiss his cheek and let him go.

You move rather fast after that. Going on one more date, before you make your relationship official and only a few months later during summer break you get your own place together. Close to campus of course. It isn´t unreasonably big, but it is enough for the both of you and with a bit of decoration magic it becomes rather homely.

The two of you are going strong. Walking around campus holding hands and sharing small kisses when you feel unwatched. Making your friends gag with how sweet you are with each other, cuddling up on the couch and watching tv after a long day of classes, or simply staying up all night going round after round of blowing each other’s brains and backs out. The foundation of your relationship felt safe enough. You did the whole meeting the parents thing, the whole nine yards, but in the end all of it couldn´t hold off your depression and anxiety. So when you began taking mental health days away from classes, stopped going out so much and started worrying about your sister more and more again, the foundation started to crack. He tries to help you, which you appreciate him all the more for putting up with you in those phases, but with time they come easier and stay longer. Eating away at you. Tying you to the apartment, the sofa, the bed. Making you put more and more of your burden on him. No matter how often he tells you he will always be there for you no matter what, the both of you know he isn´t a therapist.

But as bright and fast you had burned in the beginning, it was your downfall as well. Never really being able to recover from those phases, as you drift apart more and more. And every new problem is a new brick in the wall between you two. Every time he goes out without you feels like another step taken away from you. And yet for some reason he always comes back. You aren´t blind to the looks he gives other women, you are very aware of the looks he gives you when he comes home and the apartment is still as dark as when he had left it that morning, but you never talked about it. Not really at least. That. That is probably where you went wrong. Not really talking about shit. And in turn it got you where you ended up. In the north. Amongst people you don´t know with his body burning alive in a ritual to cleanse a community of all evil.

[lordgrimwing]

Smut #04

Sexy time for Thranduil and Hithundil doesn't always go as planned with a four-year-old in the house.

Word count: ~1400

“And how does this one look?” Hithundil asked, holding up a piece of lingerie with metal beads that could hardly be called a bra.

Thranduil hummed and looked at her for a few long seconds from his place stretched out on their bed. “Very fun,” He shifted around a bit and she caught a sparkling glimpse of the buttplug he’d texted her a picture of before coming to pick her up after her afternoon work meeting wrapped up.

She let the small towel fall from under her arms, exposing her dark skin to the cool air. She did up the bra’s clasp behind her and slipped her arms into the straps, watching her husband’s expression as she adjusted the beaded lace to sit more comfortably over her breasts. He cocked an eyebrow at the scrutiny. She trailed her fingers over the beads and let a shiver run across her skin.

“Playing on your own tonight?” He asked.

Her other hand slid down her side to rest on her hip. “Maybe I will.”

He gave a shrug of practiced nonchalance. “I have two hands,” He said with the confidence of someone whose hands were not currently tied to a ring on the headboard. 

Toeing the towel to one side, she walked over to the bed and slapped lightly at his feet. He bent his legs, making space by his knees for her to settle. The mattress sank under her weight. She crawled over his body so she could reach his face. Her thigh brushed across the side of his erection. He sucked in a break but didn’t shift against her. She kissed his neck. The bra rubbed between their chests.

“Delightful,” He murmured into her hair, inhaling deeply. 

She had to agree. Beads pressed around her nipples, the cool points in sharp contrast to the heat from his skin. Straddling his waist, she sat back on her knees and looked down.

He was naked beneath her. He stripped earlier at her suggestion, making a show of it while she loosened her mane of hair from the thick bun she put it for work. The only things adorning him now were the silk cord keeping his wrists above his head and a simple copper ring pierced through one nipple. The muscles of his chest and abdomen tense as he smirked back at her.

“Entertaining yourself?” He asked, shifting his shoulders to demonstrate that he wasn’t in a position to help her this evening. 

“Yes,” She said and then settled down on his hips, letting the shaft of his cock slide against the cleft between her buttocks. 

He thrust when she landed, lifting her for a second before dropping back to the mattress. She bounced when she landed. He grunted.

“Guess I should have tied you down a little more.” She flipped her hair over one shoulder and then set her hands on his chest.

“Don’t tell me you want to do all the work after being at the office all day?” He shifted beneath her. 

“I could find someone else to join.” She played with his pebbled nipples and then fingered the ring, giving it a light tug—teasing more than anything else.

He twitched. “You could. I’ve seen a few people who could be fun,”

“Where would you possibly go to see people like that?” She demanded, free hand reaching to grip under his jaw.

He shuddered. “All kinds of places.”

The smolder between her legs grew hot. The beads rubbed against her breasts as she shifted. 

They kissed, then, and she bit his lower lip. He licked her teeth when she released him and she let him come inside, driving the connection deeper. Pulling back just further than he could reach with his arms pulled over his head, she broke the kiss.

“That’s what I want to hear: making yourself useful.”

“I’ll be even more useful if you untie me,” He said, dancing his fingers at her.

She opened her mouth to deny him when she was suddenly pushed off balance by his knee smacking her bottom and thigh. Toppling forward, she just managed to put her hands up and catch the edge of the headboard to avoid landing on her bound spouse’s unprotected face. Her ass stung and her core clenched.

“That was mean,” She smirked, face inches away from his.

“You got slick on my leg.” He said it like that somehow made them even. 

She sat down hard on his tense abdomen, keeping well away from his cock and spreading her legs so her wet folds pressed just above his navel. “Don’t worry about it.”

He made a disgusted expression and pressed up into her, back arching as he lifted her. “That’s nasty. I’ll have to take a shower. 

She rolled her hips when he settled back, flexing the muscles of her stomach and legs as she ground against him. “I said,” She repeated firmly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Curling forward as he scoffed, she brought a bead-covered breast to his face. He met her eagerly, nuzzling and lapping at the beads to make them roll, then wiggling his tongue between the loose lace of the bra to lick her salty skin. A little distraction was all he needed to forget about the sticky spot she left as she rubbed against him.

“Be still,” She groaned into his hair and pulled back, letting the warming beads of the bra roll between them, sliding down him until she felt his cock press against her folds.

His hips twitched beneath her in restrained excitement. 

She pinched his unpierced nipple, then rubbed the heel of her palm over the extended muscle of his chest and around his arm to grab the back of his head. “Now, be an obedient husband and—”

The creak of their bedroom door opening interrupted her.

Hithundil rolled off of Thranduil, tumbling onto the bed next to him as he pulled himself up into more of a sitting position. She tossed a pillow over his groin and grabbed a second to cover herself just as little hands reached up and grabbed the bedspread. Their four-year-old son wriggled onto the bed. Wide-eyed, he darted into the space between them, wiggling about until he was wedged in securely. 

“Hey, little buddy, what’s up?” Thranduil asked. His arms were still bound behind him but he’d started picking blindly at the knots.

Legolas twisted around until he freed his hands and asked, “Mommy, Daddy okay?”

“Yes, we’re okay,” Hithundil said. She pressed her hand to his thin nightshirt, feeling his heart beating quickly beneath her fingers. “Are you okay?”

He nodded and then shook his head. “Scary monster.”

Thranduil, one arm freed, laid his hand on the child’s head and smoothed his pale hair. “In your room? Should I tell it to leave?”

“No. Want to stay.” Legolas’s hands were quickly growing clumsy with sleep.

Hithundil looked at her husband. He had more experience interpreting sleepy hands than she did.

“He just wants to stay here,” He explained in a soft voice, watching little eyelids struggle to stay open.

She leaned down and kissed the child’s cool forehead. “Go ahead and get comfortable while we get ready for bed.” She scooted aside so he had room to pull down the covers and wiggle under.

“Hithundil,” Thranduil said as she moved to slide off the bed. “If you could just…” He waved his tied hand at her.

Since Legolas was still twisting around under the sheet and blanket, she dropped the pillow she’d been holding and quickly reached across the bed to free him, murmuring a teasing, “I would have kept you there all night.”

“Next time,” He said in a hushed voice.

She left to use the bathroom and slip into a short shift. When she got back, Legolas was asleep, snuggled against his dad’s side. She slid under the covers and pulled the relaxed child to her so he wouldn’t be disturbed as Thranduil got up and disappeared into the bathroom to take care of himself. He returned in briefs and an old T-shirt. 

Neither of them normally wore much to bed, but when Legolas was quite little, he tended to grab and pinch things while sleeping. They continued keeping covered as he grew out of the habit both for modesty and the occasional relapse.

Thranduil turned off the light as he walked back to them, settling on Legolas’s other side in the dark. He wrapped his arms around his son and wife.

Hithundil pillowed her head on his shoulder, curving her body to accommodate the child curled up between them.

He kissed her hair. “Good night.”

“Good night,” She murmured back.

The chirping of crickets and the whisper of other nocturnal creatures drifted in through the open window, lulling them to sleep.

[billthedrake]

BIG DADDY (PART NINE)

Mark came over that weekend to help me clean the gutters. At least that was the pretext. Of course he came over to fuck his daughter.

It wasn't every time we all three ended up in my bed, or even close. But it was happening more and that day Mark and I kissed and made out with Cheryl side by side, each taking duty on one of her tits, sucking and licking before we made our way down. It was like a playful competition, taking turns, seeing who could give my wife the most pleasure by eating her pussy. Big Daddy had the advantage of being her father, and every bit of taboo thrill with that. I had the advantage of being better at eating cunt. We'll call it a draw.

I continued to eat her out while Mark knelt up and offered his thick paternal cock. I heard her moan as she took him into her mouth. The combo drove her wild and pretty soon my tongue was giving her a major orgasm. I gave another swipe of my tongue along her trimmed pussy lips and leaned. I could have taken her there, but I wanted some of what Big Daddy was getting.

Mark smirked as I made my way to kneel beside him, clearly offering my hardon for service. "You want some, Brennan?" he teased.

I nodded. "Fuck yes," and like that I watched Mark's thick fingers curl in Cheryl's long soft hair and nudge her off his cock, caressing her locks a couple of seconds as they made eye contact. God, their connection was fucked up, but so hot to watch. I imagined my wife doing this for all these years.

Then she turned to me. "Horny, Nick?"

"You know it, babe," I growled in a tone that suggested I was more keyed up than I was letting on. Particularly as I felt Mark's free hand on the small of my back. Bryant was a touchy-feely man, and the physical contact sent jolts of electricity to my prick, especially once Cherly started going down on me.

Cheryl was in bona fide heat. Daddy and I passed her back and forth between us, keeping eye contact mostly on her porn-slut blowjobs but also connecting man to man in the process.

Finally, Mark pulled her off his bone gently. "Daddy's gotta be inside ya, baby doll."

Cheryl almost pounced up to meet him in a kiss, her fingernails pressing against her father's hard plate-like pecs.

"I take it that's a yes, Princess?" Mark chuckled lewdly.

"Hmm hm, yes, Daddy," my wife cooed in his embrace. His hand was no longer on my back but hers, working over the round curve of her ass. Cheryl had always had a smoking hot body, but the post-pregnancy weight filled her out in all the best ways. I didn't have to ask Mark Bryant if he agreed. His grabby hands told the answer.

They kissed, Frenching open mouthed as Mark pulled her more petite body back onto his burly build. I realized that I'd normally witnessed Mark fucking missionary or doggie, but this was an exciting change of pace to see Cheryl grind her privates against the big man' crotch as they made out. Then Mark grip his daughter's slim waist to pull her up and line that pussy up with his massive tool.

My prick spurted out a heavy dose of precum at that first penetration. Their private father-daughter ritual that I was privy to now. They fucked slow but deep, Cheryl pivoting her hips to sink further on Mark's prick with each stroke.

She now sat up fully, feeling the depth of penetration as Mark's hands gripped Cheryl's full boobies, which had swollen lately. It was all amazing to watch, even the way Cheryl's body pressed some against her dad's beer belly, which had grown some lately too. I was almost content to sit back and watch the incest mating in action.

Almost, but not quite.

I grabbed some lube from the bedside table, and started slathering a lot on. Now that Cheryl was back in her nympho phase, she had been letting me sodomize her more lately. ANd as worked up as Big Daddy was getting her, I realized I was gonna get a bucket list chance now.

I positioned myself behind her, between Mark's thick legs, and reached into the cleft of her ass.

"Oh yes, Baby..." Cheryl gasped as my finger touched her rosebud and began lubing up. Gently probing her ring.

It took Mark a little longer to realize what was going on but I heard his loud growl. "You coming in, too, Brennan?"

I didn't answer him in words. Instead I lined up my rock hard prick and pushed.

It took a little work, but not much. I held Cheryl still for the penetration as Daddy watched and growled his encouragement.

"Take Nick's cock, Baby Doll," he cooed as he stroked his daughter's hair and gave her a soft, tongue heavy kiss. I wanted to hold off cumming, so I concentrated on thinking about work stuff for a bit, till I felt a more normal fuck pace.

That is, until Big Daddy scooted beneath pile drove that fat, heavy cock up into her cunt.

"Yes!" my wife cried. It was her first time taking two dicks at once, and I realized it was my first time with this experience. Fucking Cheryl from behind while Mark did her from the front. It was incredibly hot, but the thing that got me to cum was Mark's strong hands. No longer feeling up his daughter's tits, they were on my arms now, them my hips, feeling my muscle. Feeling me up.

I nutted hard, and I heard both Mark and Cheryl cum in rapid succession. It was wild.

We were messy and sweaty when we finally parted. I showered off and left them in bed for some one-on-one time. I mean, someone had to clean the goddamn gutters.

Still, as I slipped on my briefs, I couldn't help but see Big Daddy's eyes on my fat softening dong.

****

A lot can change in four years.

In the words of my buddy Kevin, I was "all Texas and shit." Turns out he was too, now, or at least on his way.

Mark Bryant was still the titular head of RC Pool Supply, but in every meaningful way I was running the business day to day, while Mark was taking a soft landing into his early retirement.

I started taking Cheryl and Iris to the Jersey Shore for two weeks in the summer. Just us. I needed a break from the Bryant family sometimes.

My bond with Dan Bryant became less of an open secret. I'd go over frequently to Dan's after work and we'd go to the guest room to fuck and just spend some brother-to-brother time, alone and naked together. Courtney knew what was up, and she now knew Dan needed it. My dick - but my love, too. Dan made sure to be the stand up husband to Court in every other way.

And yeah, I may have fucked Courtney on the side, from time to time.

And while I still would suck Big Daddy, it was less an act of asserting his authority and now something else.

Like this weekend. Another guy's weekend, this time at a golf resort out west. Dan couldn't make it, so it was just me and Mark, which was good. It let me have some father-in-law time and for us men to talk business. Mark Bryant was all about mixing business with pleasure. I guess I was, too.

That first night I fucking made love to that big giant dong. I had no shame in doing so, it was hot. Taking that meaty thickness into my mouth and letting my throat relax to just go for it. Mark loved the contrast between the way I did it and Cheryl, or Dan, or the secretary sluts he banged. It took him no longer than two minutes of my excited head for the big man to growl and fire off with a heavy load. He kept it hard and I slowly sucked him a second time. The gruff dude was almost romantic as I worshipped his cock, stroking my hair and saying he was glad to have such a hot son in law. By the time I finally stroked off, it was an intense load.

The next day was an afternoon round of golf. I played great, and Mark grumbled at each lousy shot he made. "If I wanted a good golf player, I would have brought Dan instead," he teased. Dan Bryant was only good at two things in life: taking cock and playing golf. But that meant he was really fucking good at both. OK, begrudgingly, I'll say my brother-in-law is a good salesman, too.

Mark and I were in a better mood after dinner and a couple of drinks. We had a cabin-like suite at the resort and the weather was nice, warm but dry. Big Daddy had something on his mind, I knew.

"What's your price, Brennan?" he finally asked as we sipped some top-shelf boubon.

"Price for what?" I asked.

He looked me in the eye. "Your ass. How much would I have to pay you to fuck that lacrosse jock ass of yours?" He was a little tipsy but I could tell he'd been thinking about this. I didn't know how much of it was a power trip and how much was really wanting to nail me. I knew it was some of both.

"What makes you think I'd let you?" I replied. I wasn't pissed off, more intrigued. Still, I'd never taken dick, not that way, and I wasn't about to start.

Big Daddy seemed unfazed. He leaned back, his girthy meaty body looking more imposing in its stance. "Like I say, every man has his price."

I leaned back myself, in a classic manspread position. I was actually chubbing up. Something about this power play had me going. "How bout this, Mark? You write down what you're offering, and I'll write down what I'd be willing to accept. And we can see how close they are."

That got a wide grin out of the big man. He stood up and strutted over to find a notepad and pen at the hotel room desk. I could see he was throwing hard, at least half hard, that big dong looking formidable in his golf shorts.

He ripped out a piece of paper and handed it to me. "Don't play hardball, Brennan," he smirked. He quickly wrote down a number and handed me the pen as he folded the paper. "This is a damn good offer," he said proudly as he placed the folded paper on the table.

I quickly wrote down on mine and we switched. I opened his first. He'd written down a large figure. Mid five digits.

I think he thought I'd be impressed. Or shocked. Or something. Instead I nodded to him to open my folded paper. I knew what he was reading: "I fuck your ass - first."

"Jesus," he growled, looking up at me. "What the fuck?"

"You said every man has his price," I explained. "That includes you, Daddy."

"You like being a wise ass?" he asked me, his eyes twinkling some. He'd put on even a little more girth the last year or so, and for some reason I found that attractive.

I spread my legs a little more. "I just don't like being taken for granted," I replied.

We stared at each other. It felt like an eternity but was probably just a half minute. "Fuck," Mark growled. "My princess picked out a hard bargainer, all right."

I felt a vibe between us. It was the last thing I'd ever expect to happen with Mark Bryant, but maybe it was gonna. "We actually doing this Big Daddy?"

He gulped. "Counter proposal... I go first."

I shook my head. "Un unh," I said. "My terms, Daddy." Somehow it felt perverse to call him Daddy now.

"You're really insisting ongoing first, Brennan?"

The man had a lot of pride on the line. I wasn't gonna let him keep it. "Sure as fuck am." I said. "I fuck you tonight. You fuck me tomorrow. Same positions."

He blushed red. I think the alcohol was helping him even consider this. "Damn, I want in your ass so bad, stud... you know that, right?"

I grinned. "Yep. I do." I stood up, my boner evident in my shorts. "Come on, Big Daddy. Let's do this... you may actually even enjoy it."

He stood up. For all of his anxiety, his fat cock was more than chubbed up, too. It was rock hard. He took one more swig of his drink and set it down.

The sexual tension was ratcheting up quick as we went back to his bedroom. I stopped to get some lube from my bag and when I joined Big Daddy he was already kicking off his shoes and stood bare chested, his beefy body on full display. I followed suit quickly in stripping down, which seemed to thrill Mark.

"You have a way of messing with my head, Brennan," he growled as he finally stripped naked and got in bed. I was two seconds behind him, my hands greedily reaching out to feel up that older father-in-law bulk.

"You've always gotten into mine Big Daddy," I hissed.

Our lips met. We'd kissed while double-teaming Cheryl. But Cheryl wasn't there now. It was just me and my dad-in-law, making out. Yeah, this was a power play, but it just fueled our lust and attraction. Big Daddy was pawing at my leaner body now, just as eagerly as I was gripping his.

"My baby girl picked out a winner," the man hissed, reaching down to cup my hardon. "Just don't treat my like one of your side bitches," he growled. Maybe he had his son Dan in mind.

"That wasn't part of the agreement," I joked.

Mark laughed. "Just remember you're getting payback tomorrow."

"I know, Mark," I grinned. "You nervous?" I asked after a minute.

The man nodded. "I'm not scared of much in life... but this, yeah..." As crazy as the idea of Big Daddy letting me fuck him was, the fact he was being so emotionally direct and open was a mind fuck of its own.

I patted his meaty ass. The one I'd admired and lusted after when I watched him fuck my wife. "I'll break you in easy, sir," I smiled. "On your belly, Big Daddy."

He winced in fear but did as instructed.

Goddamn, that ass was full. Some padding but lots of brawn, too. I gripped the round cheeks and pulled them apart, diving face in. I'd gotten into rimming Randy Slocum and Dan, but Mark Bryant's ass was even more munch-worthy. I licked and rooted around and played with his pucker with my tongue. Big Daddy fucking loved it, hiking his ass back to my face.

"Fuck yeah, Brennan," he hissed. "Eat me out."

I did, too. I wanted to take my time enjoying what was probably be a one-time shot. And I was 100% sure Mark Bryant was cherry. I'd take my time working him open.

Eventually I pulled back, lubed my fingers and started working him open that way. It was less immediately pleasurable to Mark, but pretty soon I had three fingers twisting in and out of that dad hole, deep. And I'll be damned if Mark wasn't hiking back against my thrusting hand.

The penetration went easier than I expected. Mark freaked out a little once my dick breached his ring, but that was a mental thing, and as I kissed along his thick neck, he relaxed back into me. It's a real fucking turn on to have a dude as big as that relax back into you, I'll tell ya. He wasn't gonna say it, but Mark Bryant was enjoying having my cock inside him.

He even enjoyed it when I started thrusting into him. Soft, steady thrusts. His body face down, I made love to his whole body, feeling him kissing his shoulder, fucking deeply into him.

I may have even told him I loved him, right before my body seized up and I had the hardest orgasm of my life. Several inches inside my father in law.

I took a second to relax and recover than I rolled off him, patting him softly and affectionately on the ass. I leaned up just a little and held up my still-rigid prick. "Your turn to come, Mark. Why don't you sit on my cock while you do?"

I was definitely pushing it, and I expected him to growl at me. Instead he had a quiet, needy expressing as he knelt up on the mattress, his own meaty prick hard and leaking. I could read it all in his face. Sexual excitement, embarrassment for having liked it too much, and the urgent need to get off. He eyed up my cum-slick dick.

"Yeah," he barked and scooted his big body over to straddle me. The man was girthy all right, and felt even more so as he settled on my lap, his belly brushing against my hard on before he moved up and reached back to guide me back into him. He hesitated.

"It's just you and me, Big Daddy. No one else," I assured him.

That's what he needed to hear to le himself go. He eased back onto me, and the entry was easy now. Mark was doing the driving now, using his weight and strength to ride my meat and stimulate his insides how he wanted it.

"Goddamn, Brennan, you got a cock on ya," he hissed as he bounced heavily up and down on me and flogged his cock. Cum spurted out of that big dong a couple of seconds before the full orgasm hit. Then it was a throaty growl and some wild bucking that nearly snapped my dick off. Big Daddy was having his first p-spot orgasm, and I was getting drenched. I watched him cum, then he reached down and used his grip on my neck to pull himself down and met up to a hot, heavy kiss. I humped excitedly, determined to get a second nut before Mark's was done. I succeeded.

We actually didn't talk after we uncoupled, but we cleaned off and made out, softly, until Mark's eyes grew heavy with the need for sleep. I started to get up and go back to my bed, but his arm reached out and gripped my forearm.

"You don't gotta go, Brennan." came his words. I nodded and eased back into Mark's bed.

***

Payback is a bitch.

Mark Bryant has a massive cock. He tried going easy, copying my own foreplay from the night before. But it stung going in, and stung getting reamed out by that monster. Still, a bet was a bet, so I clung to the bedsheets and took it. Getting my virginity fucked away by the biggest, fattest cock I could imagine, and feeling the heaviness of his body on top of my back, thrusting away. At least if I ever did this again, I'd know I'd gone full out.

The whole time Mark was telling me how much he'd looked forward to taking Big Brennan down a notch.

But a minute and a half into the ordeal, he stopped and climbed off me. I was surprised, because usually once Mark got into a fuck it never took him long to nut. I felt that slick dong slide across my ass and hip, and my ass felt like a freight train had driven through it.

The mattress sank as Big Daddy lay next to me, that massive cock still bone hard and sticking up an inch from his beer belly.

"What?" I asked, wondering what was up, or if anything was wrong.

Mark looked at me with his normal "Boss" look. "We said same positions, right?" he asked.

It sunk in. Mark wanted me to ride his cock. And more than than he wanted me to enjoy this.

I'd try. At least my ring was still loose and opened up as I straddled the big man and felt that fat lubed tool nudge back in place. Mark's cock felt scary and thrilling at the same time.

"Take your time, Brennan," the man said softly. His hands openly caressing my gym-toned thighs.

I nodded and sat back in place on him. The reentry felt full. Fuller than full. Mark Bryant was hunk like a motherfucker. But this position worked better. I could control the pace and now that he'd already reamed me from behind the switch made this feel better. I mean, it was still a challenge, but I started riding the big man slowly.

"Nice, Nick," Mark hissed, really getting into the softer vibe between us. "Ride my cock, buddy."

I did, working my ass up to take more of his pole, feeling a wild range of emotions.

Mark timed it perfectly, knowing when my insides were unclenching enough to thrust up to match my own motion.

"Oh fuck!" I hissed.

"Too much?" he asked.

I shook my head. Still in a-bets-a-bet mode. But feeling something else. "No," I answered, feeling Mark's massive dong thrust faster. "Feel good?"

"You have no fucking idea," he growled, his hips getting more urgent and his hands now running along my front, appreciating the way my tight abs and ripped body contrast to his own bulkier build.

We mated silently for a minute, then Mark spoke up again. "You know, I wish you'd been my son Nick."

It was a gut punch of a thing to say, but it fed my sexual pleasure. "I know, Daddy," I hissed back. Goddamnit, his confession was gonna get me to cum. I saw a playful leer on his face as he watched me enter orgasm, my hips having a life of their own to bounce on his dong and my fist a blur on my erection. It was a scattershot of an ejaculation, spraying all over Big Daddy's hairy body.

"Fuck yes, Nick," Mark growled and with a couple urgent thrusts of his own, I knew he was seeding me good.

I rode it out, my orgasm, and his, and felt guilty, like I'd betrayed Dan. I knew Mark had fucked me as an equal and his son would never have that.

Mark and I didn't talk about it, though. We didn't talk about much of anything until after we'd showered and dressed. And as we packed to head to catch our flight, it was normal talk about golf and R.C. Pool Supply, and if Mark's retirement meant he'd no longer have a pool of secretaries to fuck.

***

Mark and I had taken separate cars to the airport, and now I was on my way home. Sure, maybe I was speeding, but I got annoyed when I saw the cop car lights behind me. "Fuck me," I grunted, dutifully pulling over.

I expected a gentle talking to and being let off with a warning. For all intents and purposes, I was a Bryant, and the Bryants owned this town.

Indeed, I couldn't have imagined a more deferential tone in the police officer's voice as he looked in my rolled down window as he stood beside the car, 6 foot even in his uniform shoes.

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Brennan," the man started off with an apology. He was early 40s and hot as fuck. Weathered skin, sea blue eyes, just the right amount of muscle under that poly blue material. "If you could do me a favor, could you slow it down some?"

"I can probably do that, Officer," I replied. I took another look at the man. I'd become a convert of Texas beef, but maye I was developing an appreciation when that beef was aged a little. I spoke before I thought. ".And maybe you can do me a favor." OK, my dick brain was doing the thinking now.

"What kind of favor?" the officer asked nervously. I could tell he got a sense of where this was going.

"You take it up the ass, Officer?" I asked with my best poker face. Not working up to the main event, like with Slocum. Just going right for the jugular.

He gulped and I could see those blue eyes "Not in a long time, Mr. Brennan," he almost whispered. Scared as hell.

"It's like riding a bike, Officer," I smiled. "And I know what I'm not doing... come on, man... I'm sure you know a private place we can go."

Those sea blue eyes met mine. Almost pleading for a way out. I stared back, unblinking.

Officer Friendly let out the breath he'd been holding in. He took a nervous darting look around, then turned back to me. "My partner's back in the cruiser," he grunted softly, but with that same apologetic tone.

Holy shit. I looked back and there was a rookie-looking dude in the passenger seat of the cop car. Slocum hot, and probably not six months from his time on the gridiron. But I was getting into the middle-aged cop even more. "What time you get off, Officer...?" I asked turning back.

"Officer Mitchell. Five o'clock, sir," he replied deferentially.

"Live alone?" I asked. I didn't see a wedding band.

"Yessir, Mr. Brennan. Divorced last year." That Texas accent coming thicker.

"Sorry to hear Officer Mitchell," I said with half-real sympathy.

The cop shrugged. God he was the strong silent type but had a certain vulnerability to him that gave me a bone. "It is what it is, Mr. Brennan." He then pulled out a pad and wrote his address on the paper and tore it off to hand to me.

His hand was actually shaking. "Please go easy on me, Mr. Brennan, sir."

"I will Officer," I grinned, stuffing the address in my shirt pocket.

Mitchell gave me one last look, like he wanted to suck my cock then and there. He ran his fingers along my car door where the window was rolled down. "All right... stay safe, sir.. and slow it down if you can."

"You bet," I nodded, feeling horny as fuck. Good thing 5 o'clock was only a couple hours away.

I watched Officer Mitchell strut back to the cruiser as I started up the car and set it in drive. I sped off.

In the words of my buddy Kevin, I was all Texas and shit, and I couldn't be happier.

END

[gemini-sensei]

Oo I got a good idea I’m not sure is original or not (probably not lol)

What if Eli and Hawk were separate characters and were actually identical twins!! Like imagine Hawk just being a good older brother to Eli if someone was bullying him! I think it’d be cute

I'm always open to ideas and then I never know what to think of these kind of au's. Like the splitting of personality or character into 2 or more people. It's interesting but I never know how to do it.

I guess the distinction between "Hawk" and "Eli" is very easy though.

Hawk is sooo older brother coded! He's protective and loyal. If anyone messes with his brother, it's on sight. I imagine he was a former nerd like Eli before becoming Hawk, but he's always been self confident. So when it comes to all the nerdy stuff his twin likes, he's not going to let anyone bother him for it. And especially not his lip.

Eli would be the one to hide behind his brother all the time. He gave karate a try, but he just wasn't as drawn to it as his twin. He's fine playing video games, reading comics, and coding all on his own. He still hides his lip scar even though Hawk tells him it's nothing to be ashamed of.

Very rarely, twins are born where they both have clefts, but it is possible.

So saying they were twins both born with cleft lips, it's interesting to see how they deal with the pressure from the word around them. More specifically how Hawk deals with bullies for the both of them, especially Eli. People can say whatever they want to him about his lip, but if they say anything to or about Eli, oh he's gonna have bloodied knuckles.

Ofc, my mind is like 😍 two Moskowitzs? Yes pls

[loveislandthegame]

to think I thought S7 was going to be different because the first 3 vol were different. I feel like a freaking 🤡.

Also, can you tell me about your "Eddie is Alex" theory?

you & me both, anon. clowns unite ! 😭

yes, ofc. obviously this is just a theory, not facts, but hear me out :

back in july, FB made a poll on their socials, asking players if they wanted eddie to return as a love interest in a future season. idk how they could've possibly redeemed him, but that doesn't matter because the answer ended up being hell no . of course, FB must've been shocked by that. me too. i mean, who wouldn't want to romance this ... dreamboat 😐

while we’ve never had a returning islander as an LI, we’ve had returning islanders . they’ve always been redrawn to fit the new season’s style (at least before FB decided to throw ivy & hamish as is into s7's sea of clashing art styles lol)

don’t have receipts for this, but i wouldn’t be surprised if FB already started redesigning him in anticipation of the poll result being a Yes . the majority of players didn't want him back, so anything like that would've had to be scrapped...unless they change up some things, make him a new character 👀

so basically my theory is they had a scrapped returning eddie design laying around, turned him into alex, it's more about their appearance than their personalities, but apparently eddie was gonna undergo a personality transplant anyways

returning islanders haven't been 100% faithful to their OG design, we've all unfortunately seen s5 bobby, but regardless i’ll point out the differences (that aren't caused by alex being drawn at a different angle)

their chins, eddie has a cleft chin

their lips, they’re actually pretty similar in shape, but eddie has a wider cupids bow

noses. again, similar shape, but alex's nose bridge is wider

hair colour ! clearly alex is brunette, but more on that later

not a similarity, but something i thought was interesting . alex is the only s7 guy that never had reused assets from youcef, because his body is from suresh

now the actual similarities:

face structure. jawline, ear shape, cheekbones. same facial proportions as well, like the distance between their mouth and chin

blue hooded eyes. eyebags too, it's just that alex's dont have any lineart

eyebrows. same thickness and very similar shape, same brow spacing as well . look at the glabella (distance between eyebrows) shading on both of them

their hairstyles . both have a side part, a bunch of spiky bits on the (viewer’s) left side, and hair swooping behind their head on the right side

those could all just be coincidences, but there's a mystery afoot, alex’s original eyebrow colour. it caused quite the uproar when he was revealed (it kinda grew on me, i think it's cute lol) so FB gave him a brow tint when the first volume dropped . not everyone's eyebrows and hair matches 100% irl, but in the (starting from s3) LITG universe, islanders' eyebrows correlate with their natural hair colour . we haven't had a bleached brow baddie yet, and imo, this was way too noticeable to just be a simple oversight . then i realised...his original eyebrows are the same colour as eddie's

[monstermaster13]

‘Being a dum dum is quite a complicated procedure, dum dum were-aykroyds aren’t typical were-aykroyds.’ ‘I know, they’re ridiculous dum dum silly billies who eat a lot and they have a tendency to be flatulent.’ ‘Exactly, but what if I could be one without losing my intelligence?’ ‘Well yes, sometimes eating a dum dum cookie but not too many of them can turn someone into a dum dum or give them the attributes of a dum dum.’

“So what if we put the essence of those cookies into a potion?”

“What are you getting at, Tim?”

“What if I could become a dum dum were-aykroyd with a potion?”

“Tim, think about this for a bit please. These are dangerous were-aykroyds. Are you sure you want to join them?”

Oats didn’t understand why Tim would want to become a dum dum, he shook his head. ‘But why would you want this? You’re an accomplished movie director, Tim. You’ve directed some of our favorite movies, why would you want to become a fat dum dum were-aykroyd?’ ‘Maybe it would just be funny plus I would not likely turn out like those other dum dums.’

Corey looked over and shrugged…’Okay, we can do this. But promise you won’t become an idiot.’ ‘You have my word.’ Oats got out some dum dum were-aykroyd cookies and put it into an essence transformation potion and gave it to Tim.

“Tim, I trust you with this potion.”

“Do you promise not to become an idiot when we give it to you?”

“Absolutely.”

Tim picked up the potion and drank from it and as he did a supernatural sensation slowly crept into his body, as brown hairs slowly grew on his hands which were enlarging as his fingers thickened and his arms slowly grew hands on them in the process, his skin slowly matured as his arms broadened, his whole body gained a large amount of fat including on his chest and torso which were sprouting brown hairs on them as well.

His rear plumped up as did his stomach but luckily his clothes did not rip as his back and shoulders broadened and he grew to 6’1, his neckline altered a bit while his hair turned from black to brown, becoming a bit messier as his forehead and brow changed, his eyebrows thickening and arching as his forehead elevated. His face became a bit chubbier in appearance as his nose shifted, enlarging and developing a cleft in the middle while his lips became kissable, his features shifting to look Aykroydian as his voice deepened, he looked and sounded like a dum dum but he was still intelligent as his transformation completed. ‘I’m thinking that we could use this to figure out what the master wants with Nathan.’ ‘Exactly, we can have Tim as a dum dum to investigate what is going on.’

“Great. Now we have to figure out how to get to the master’s home.”

“We’ve got magic.”

“You have got a point, Oats.”

The duo used a special spell to transport themselves and the Burtoninian gang and Mel into the domain of the ‘master’ and the were-aykroyd spirit, Oats looked around as he saw the interior of the ‘master’s abode, for a dum dum were-aykroyd, the master sure lived an extravagant life, he had an aura of royalty to him as indicated with his elaborate choice in architecture, and the fact that it resembled a palace.

Corey investigated the dining hall which had all sorts of delicious foods being eaten at a table by a group of flatulent were-aykroyd dum dums whose farts gave off a potent smell, he held his nose as he walked over to go to investigate further with help from Oats. Serena laughed at Tim’s silly antics as a dum dum were-aykroyd as Tim darted around the room, investigating what was going on also.

Tim managed to go into what appeared to be an extravagant conference room of sorts and that is where he saw a throne, and what appeared to be artwork depicting this species of were-aykroyds, depicting the dum dums as servants to the masters, but there were depictions of the master himself. The master appealed to be an ageless were-aykroyd master who was around 6’2 and was slightly bigger and rounder than Nathan was in were-aykroyd form, he was dressed in an elegant and ornate fashion.

For a slovenly were-aykroyd, the master sure knew how to live and dress, he knew how to flaunt his talents and his natural charm, no wonder why they called him that. Corey saw a couple of dum dum were-aykroyd statues including one of a dum dum were-aykroyd female with long hair, he looked over at the statue, seeing the likeness to the ‘dum dum queen’ from the Were-Aykroyd b-movie ‘Birth of the Dum Dum Queen’ which was about a feminine plus sized were-aykroyd who was part of a plan to start a were-aykroyd uprising in the city, he remembered watching the movie and thinking of it as cheesy and ridiculous yet he didn’t know it was based on a real sculpture or even a real piece of were-aykroyd lore.

‘Wait? That silly movie that Dan the Were-Aykroyd saw on the Sy-Fy channel is based on something that actually happened?’ ‘Well, not exactly something that actually happened but a piece of real were-aykroyd lore, you see…it is obvious that the master wants a queen and rather than taking some human female who is female by birth and making them into a dum dum wife, he has chosen a male human to make into a dum dum wife.’ ‘How is that even possible though?’ ‘It is not entirely explained how this even works.’ ‘But it is a rather interesting piece of lore.’

Mel looked around before investigating the art gallery which consisted of artwork depicting the dum dums and also she saw the collection of costumes including the costumes that were designed for the female were-aykroyds. She saw the portrait of all the dum dums and then she saw all the books on were-aykroyds, and these books were very alarming to her. ‘How to Keep Your Transforming Were-Aykroyd Pet/Were-Aykroyd Wife In Line? A Dum Dum’s Guide To Being A Proper Were-Aykroyd?’ ‘Yes a lot of these books seem dubious to me.’ ‘Very much so, it sounds like he wants to control Nathan and turn him.’ ‘Exactly, he wants Nathan to be the dum dum wife.’

“That sounds horrible!”

“Oh yes, the ultimate in horrible behavior.”

“Indeed so, how dare he do such a thing to our friend!”

Tim Burton nodded, he was in total agreement with the duo about the master’s actions, he knew the master probably did mean well but he thought the master was being needlessly cruel to Nathan by forcing this fate upon him. ‘If he is forcing this fate on your friends, he is a horrible person and a terrible master.’ ‘Yes, he’s trying to brainwash our friend into being something he isn’t.’ ‘He is very controlling in that way.’ ‘And look at this.’

Oats pointed to what appeared to be a section in one of the books regarding punishments. ‘A punishment where a disobedient were-aykroyd is put in a room where he or she is forced to feed non-stop? A punishment where he or she is given a weird mind control collar that makes him or her act like a dum dum?’ ‘Yes, these punishments do indeed sound cruel.’ ‘Do you think he’s doing this to them to make them more accepting of his conditions?’ ‘Oh I definitely think so.’ ‘He definitely sounds like the type to do that.’

“We have to stop him.”

“But how? He is a powerful were-aykroyd who can put people under his control.”

“Oats, we’re both immune to were-aykroydification, we can’t be transformed.”

“You have a point there my microbial friend.”

The duo and Mel along with Tim Burton used some magic to distract some were-aykroyd dum dum guards with food before running through the throne room and into the chambers of the master himself, and that is where they saw the master’s throne and his transformation items along with a portrait of the master. The master was definitely a powerful Were-Aykroyd and gave off that kind of aura.

Mel made her way towards where he is, and that is where she saw Nathan…Nathan had been taken by the master himself and was trying to find a way out of his domain. ‘Nathan! Thank goodness you’re okay!’ ‘I’m alright, thanks for coming.’ ‘No problem, we had to work on a way to find out where you were.’ ‘I was here, I was transported from my apartment in this universe to the master’s home!’ ‘What did the master do to you though?’ ‘The master has not done anything to me, yet. I was just pretending to be a dum dum to fool him. He obviously fell for it and now I am working on trying to escape.’

“Well you’ve got us to help you so we can help you get out.”

“Yes, come on, let’s go.”

Oats whinnied as he galloped through the hallways before grabbing some items from the chambers and he spotted the master sleeping. ‘It’s a good thing he’s asleep, because if he wasn’t, we’d likely be in trouble.’ ‘Don’t you worry, that dum dum isn’t going to see a thing or hear a thing for that matter either.’

The duo raced down the hallways with the Burtonianian gang and Serena, while Tim Burton used his dum dum were-aykroyd powers to do battle with some of the dum dum guards that were still around, he was able to clear them all out with no problems whatsoever as they all navigated through the master’s abode as they made their way over to where Nathan had been transported to prior, which was some kind of private transformation chamber. The chamber was decked out in gold and featured the dum dum were-aykroyd royal coat of arms on the war as well as various items needed for a ritual. ‘Do you think all these ritual things are needed to make the transition from human to mindless dum dum were-aykroyds more potent?’ ‘Probably, knowing how powerful and controlling this master is he must want a full on mindless dum dum to serve him at all times.’ ‘Like a master and slave ordeal?’ ‘Well, kind of except it’s more like a a husband and wife.’

“I still find it strange and even a little bit bizarre that Nathan is the one who has been picked.”

“I know but it is were-aykroyd lore and who are we to argue with lore about such an interesting species?”

“I guess you’re right.”

Corey and Oats darted around, avoiding the dum dum were-aykroyd soldiers with grace and ease as Oats used his ballet dance skills to swiftly make his way through the guarded potion room, grabbing some potions and spellbooks along with some manuals, he whinnied as he imagined himself as a fairy princess floating around the hallway, Corey shot some spikes in the direction of one dum dum were-aykroyd guard before making his way through the hallways and back to the entrance of the palace.

Nathan followed them, making sure not to let the master know he was leaving, he could hear the master’s hideous snores coming from the sleeping chamber and he knew he was going to have a bit of a challenging time navigating but eventually he was able to work it out as was Tim Burton, he made his way towards the entrance and headed for the door and he was about to escape, he opened the door and made a run for it only to be greeted with the master’s yawns a couple of minutes later as the master awoke. ‘Where is my dum dum? Where is my lovely soon to be dum dum queen?’ ‘Uh oh, come on guys, we’ve got to bail!’ ‘Right behind you.’

The group all ran out through the entrance and exited the palace along with Nathan as the master sniffed the air, trying to find his soon to be dum dum wife. ‘Oh come on now my sweet dum dum! Do not attempt to hide from me!’ ‘Come on guys, I think I can hear him!’ ‘Oh now, he’s awake!’ ‘But luckily we can make it out without him getting us, right?’ ‘Yes, let’s go, come on, let’s go.’ ‘Right, we must keep going.’

‘Where is my dum dum? Oh my lovely dum dum, my lovely female dum dum were-aykroyd, where are you?’ The master sniffed around as he searched for Nathan, the guards were distracted and also knocked out so they couldn’t help. He growled as he sniffed around, looking all over to find his so called ‘lovely dum dum wife’, Nathan had since made his escape with the rest of the group and at this point, he was glad to have gotten away. ‘I will not be made a fool of, I will find you!’

He let out a piercing roar as the doors of the palace closed, Nathan and the others had gone completely by now and were about to head home. ‘So now we know what the plot of this fat dum dum were-aykroyd master is, we have a good idea on how to stop him, right?’ ‘Yes. We must keep Nathan safe here with us, and make sure his dum dum minions do not find us.’ ‘We must take him to our home immediately.’ ‘Yes, when he is there we will make sure he is safe and he cannot be corrupted.’

Nathan smiled as all of them left the master’s palace behind, while the master fumed in anger because his plan had been founded out, but he knew Nathan was likely to turn up again, he wanted to have his dum dum wife even if it meant trying to get to his friends in order to do so, the duo and Mel used magic to use a portal spell to transport them back to their home and headquarters in this universe’s version of Nile Road. Oats galloped over into the lounge and that is when he began to work on his plan, Corey assisted him and the group also worked on keeping the dum dums from coming to Nile Road.

Mel looked over in the window and she saw the spirit of the dum dum were-aykroyd lurking and waiting, the spirit looked like he wanted Nathan, wanted to take over him, wanted to corrupt him, wanted to alter him into the perfect carrier for the plague, the plague was coming through in full force and it was going to a lot of combined efforts. The spirit looked through the window and he sneered…’Oh you may be able to hide from me, Nathan. But eventually you will come to me and you will be a host for my power. Join the dum dum side.’ ‘Is that spirit still here, mommy?’

“Yes, sorry about that.”

“I hope we can do something about him.”

“We will in due time.”

The duo along with the Burtonian gang worked in the lab in Nile Road to deal with the dum dum spirit’s forces and the dumification of this world, they knew the dum dums would likely turn up again but luckily they knew Carmela, Andrea, Maria, Belinda and Jana were on patrol to make sure everything would be safe. Nathan was kept safely in their room and they made sure to keep him from being easily taken over by the dum dums.

Meanwhile back in the were-aykroyd master’s case, the master was still sniffing around for his perfect dum dum wife and he would stop at nothing to get ‘her’ back, even if it meant using the powers of the spirit to do so, he used a spell to summon the spirit again and the spirit gave him a mean to do so. ‘Let’s see my dum dum wife escape this.’ ‘Yes, she will be unable to get away from this next phase in the plan.’

It had no longer become just Vic Frohmeyer and the dark were-aykroyds after Nathan in this universe but rather them, the spirit and the master. The master had a plan to get his beloved dum dum wife and he was going to see it through no matter what, and even if it meant taking Nathan back to the palace in some way, he knew he would probably get to this. ‘But what of that microbe and horse?’ ‘Oh they know our plans now, it will be difficult to keep up with them.’ ‘We can always dummify them too.’ ‘But they are immune to our corruptive influence, they cannot be transformed.’ ‘That is true but we must keep an eye on them.’ The spirit’s eyes glowed as he worked on the next phase of the plan.

Luckily at Nile Road, Corey and Oats along with Aiyvan the monster, Mel and Aiyido the beholder and the two anglerfish were keeping Nathan safe and sound. ‘As long as we stick together there is no way the dum dum can get us or get you for that matter.’ ‘Yes, that disgusting dum dum were-aykroyd spirit and master may be able to scheme all their want but they will never be able to hunt you down here.’

“I’m glad for that, guys.”

“Don’t forget, you have a loyal talking horse.”

“And a deadly and reliable covid microbe.”

“And a one eyed monster friend.”

“And a beholder with eleven magnificent eyes.”

“And an anglerfish duo.”

“Exactly.”

‘And you’ve also got me.’ Mel added. ‘As your friend I am willing to help you so you have little to nothing to worry about, dum dum were-aykroyds aren’t very fast so I can easily outrun them and fight them if I have to. Plus they won’t be able to transform me.’ ‘I hope you can, Mel, because those guys are relentless.’ ‘Relentless? Ha, there is not a single villain I have dealt with who I cannot be handled or dealt with…I have always got my magic. I will always get the better of them.’ ‘Oh yes, you’re a magic koala-girl after all.’ ‘I’ve dealt with sheep drones, i’ve dealt with tiger dancers that brainwash others into being tiger dancers, i’ve dealt with clowns that think they should be a species, i’ve dealt with morbidly obese anime fanboy nerd mutants, i’ve dealt with internet trolls, and i’ve dealt with were-aykroyds before.’

“Oh yeah, you have.”

“Leave it up to me.”

“I trust you Mel.”

“We all trust you, Mel.”

Mel smiled as she hugged everyone and she began to work on her plan to keep Nile Road safe from the dum dums along with the duo and everyone else, the dum dum were-aykroyds were waiting outside but our two heroes Corey and Oats were not afraid of them, and neither was the Burtonian gang, Aivyan the monster kept an eye on everything as he watched, spying on the dum dums through the window and using a portal in his closet, those dum dums would likely never be let in at this point.

The second part of their plan had begun and they were finished working on it in an hour, and an hour later they decided to use some magic to keep the dum dums away, while the spirit lurked and waited for them to come out. ‘They have to come out sometime. And when they do, Nathan will be OURS, all ours.’ ‘Excellent.’ replied the were-aykroyd master. ‘I cannot wait to have a dum dum wife to obey me and do as I command and she’ll be so fat and deliciously silly she will love me for all eternity.’

And thus this installment of the were-aykroyd dum dum saga had officially come to an end but the dum dum queen saga was about to begin, to see what happens in the dum dum were-aykroyd saga to Nathan please do not forget to check out ‘Debut of the Dum Dum Queen’ ‘A Dum Dum Plot For A Dum Dum Were-Aykroyd’ and ‘Return And Rise Again Of The Dum Dum Queen’, to see our favorite duo fight off the dum dums, check out more thrilling installments coming right up.

Those installments will also include more of everyone’s favorite duo so please stay tuned for more. Including the grand debut of the dum dum queen herself and the spirit that gave ‘her’ her powers, lots more aykroydian mayhem to come with the Aykroydian Horror Tales series and many more.

[libidomechanica]

And overmuch of Germany, or Spain, flashes the night, and the

The queen and seemed, -than till the lute.     With cinnamon; her own blood, and cast you see his spaniel.     So noise ensued to them back into tall grace it is a     horse nor sideways, but all

men, and tall, and yong, and soul with     flower add the risk of being older that my vices     got which it granted types of goode wyves mo than oon; as,     wolde han slayn hir household,

he flies. Confident that ilk man     that sweet south. By Phœbus was evidently sorry. That she     coveiteth every kind of pleasure fille acorded     by us to their lids

hung the gusty floor. As once a     feat on which o’er vales and you may die gloriously—when     he beheld his pistol- shot that oon thou, ’ said he, what all     mistake, comes riding, up

to the tongue from mischeife the     villager’s head, and saw I at a glad poverty descents     o’er him those for sure he me, and tow tassembled hate, if     not to kill or save. Seeing

of it. To me had nothing     sheaue, cockel for which farther aid bereave me sorwe; myn housbondrye,     and with the view, but here you might rather womman is,     ye moste I thynke how

pitously a-nyght I made me forth     without pretence aboute myn herte may bithynke, she spies her     hair she freedome lorne, my lips as with agues in his master.     And somme for to be

in the charm invests a face that     a tight boat will ask for grog, and the love without having     faith derides, they were soon to be seen upon the orders     of the morning appears

behind her; but at time for hir     handes and fair. Him who levels towns, nations, which he became     the love lifts its head to yours, forsook the other somewhat     grim, what care I,

aristocratic as was the next     day by the Turks, behind to follow, who deign to remainder     set to get itself divine by loving men, soldiery,     a sure sign of the

hall door success of Juan’s way, which     little array. As if on wings; she gave a home; which was     natural, and then my song. Patient as they played their purveyor     from thy mind, and then

those stopp’d. Winter commeth timely     fruite of al thy lyf; keep the game, and cause and leave my grave     among somewhat misty bourn, which Zoe needs must proue annoy,     like Painter were upthrown

by thy human Hydra,     issuing from above to think how the thief. Yet lyved the     bristling to the ward to that your fingers and clear, and thine,     solution, where I said

a cleft off begetter’s edge where     the mind casting absence to unsluice a tear, without the     mark of speech out like a hell come to the wife abhors the     Host in the same way? But

he has no other flinch. Days nearly     o’er and ever face. On earth as rare as tis for to     woe. Sting, slashing, swearing its tender, so sharp one, its     sanguinary way good—then

another. And overmuch of     Germany, or Spain, flashes the night, and the might be     chirurgeons who came a flash upon the houses and you felt     the infant Juan knew it

not, to plese, but faces Truth and     paye his despairing. Juan, who wore a cow’s shapen as a     feend, if that flows down with a rising from the ditch again:     as it must wait severs

all. They never let it best a     virgin always with the scorn them when they must tell of victorie,     for sail nor should strikes three descends to eat the governed     hem slayn. That tenderest

be, that the music and though my     head and dispense, and chafing him in his son, we see, you     are like a God in pain, I rather yellow for blood! Enclose!     And like a mother,

answer the trees,—he moved somehow,     but what the Apostel wal, it may your merry glee, half     naked, save their please, and in each other—all was     As taken—whether way.

[heartbeatsonapage]

She laughed at him, but noticed the small smile on his handsome face. He was serious.

"Now?"

"Why not?"

They had just finished eating and their conversation had gone to families. He brought up how he used to make chocolate chip cookies with his grandmother. He asked if she had the ingredients. She did. He asked if they could make them together.

She pulled the ingredients from her pantry and directed him to the bowls and pans.

She stood back and watched him mix the batter, no measuring spoons in sight. He wore a wide grin as he chatted about his grandmother, how she would insist on buying him an Easter suit even as an adult and how she made the best cakes. He grew quiet and shared he started making the cookies for her when her dementia pulled her too far away from the present and the smell would bring her back for a while.

He turned to her with the bowl covered in plastic wrap.

"It just need to chill for 30 minutes and then we can bake them or I can write down the rest and you bake them tomorrow."

She looked at the clock, their date started at 7, it was 11 and she wasn't ready to be out of his presence, yet.

"30 minutes is good."

He gave her another one of his smiles and she felt a shiver move up the inside of her thigh. He was too handsome when he smiled at her like that and he looked damn good in her kitchen. She busied herself, cleaning and returning the ingredients to their proper place. As she slid the flour to a high shelf, she felt him behind her. He steadied her by her waist and moved with her as her heels returned to the ground. She took a deep breath when his grip tightened, pulling her back to meet his front.

His lips were soft on the side of her neck and she closed her eyes at the firm kiss he placed there.

"You need to tell me if you don't want this."

She was silent.

He placed another kiss to her neck, pulling away with a soft bite to her flesh.

"I need your words, sweetheart."

Never in her life had she been at a lost for words. His hands, his lips, his freaking ability to make cookies from scratch had rendered her speechless.

"I want this," she whispered.

His hands moved to cup her breast and rest on her pelvis, his pinky settling into her cleft.

"What would like to do with the next 25 minutes, hmm?"

He spoke and rubbed her in soft strokes. She was too aroused to form words again. She rested her head back onto his shoulder and he slowly moved her legs wider with his own.

He began to raise her skirt, the long, soft fabric sliding against her shins and thighs until she felt the heat of his palm on her bare skin. She was going to combust from his teasing and the low soft laugh in her ear told her he knew it.

"Your words. Where are they?" He was laughing at her and all she wanted was for him to touch her in between her legs.

"Touch me," She begged out.

He nipped at her ear and softly pinched her nipple,

"I am touching you.'

She moaned at the rush her body felt. Frustrated at his toying, she moved the hand that held her skirt to her throbbing clit.

She was embarrassed at the dampness, but when he moaned into her neck she felt less so.

"Is that for me?" He whispered in-between more kisses.

She nodded and he began to pull away.

A whine was pulled from her and he moved his damp fingers along her lips.

"Use your words."

She licked at her taste and squeaked a yes out. He pushed two fingers into her.

He pinched her nipple again and she shuddered.

"I love so much when you hug me, baby."

He pressed the heel of his palm onto her clit and she squeezed around him again. He played with her, his thick fingers bringing her close to orgasm before he slowed, kissing her and giving her nipples a hard pinch. She was on the cusp of coming, a plea ready on her lips. The timer sounded.

He slowly pulled his hands away from her and she felt so empty and restless a small sound of frustration came from her. She slumped against the counter, trying to catch her breath.

She watched as he washed his hands before moving to the refrigerator. He was calm and collected. She closed her eyes and focused on deep breaths. She felt when his eyes landed on her, no doubt viewing his handiwork. Her nipples were hard and tender and she felt herself leaking down her thighs. She felt that if she moved too fast she would set herself off and come without him.

She met his eyes and he smiled at her again. That fucking smile. She wanted to sit on his face, just to feel it where he made her ache.

With a laugh he said, "Come, I'll show you how to finish."

Giant Chocolate Chip Cookies

[spidershart]

assface

[littlefreya]

Not sure if this has been prompted yet, but watching season 2 of The Witcher can’t help but think about being on the horse with Henry and ‘accidentally’ making him hard and him going full Geralt and grunting in your ear 🤤🤤

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader

Warning: 18+, RPF, unwanted erections, smutty situations.

A/N: not beta’d, I’ll die on my mistakes like August taking a hook to his face and falling into an exploding helicopter.

Plot twist.

It was supposed to be simple. Just one last scene and you’d be out of one another’s hair for good… or at least until filming for the next season would begin. Yet somehow, your dear co-star - the dream of every man and woman on earth, had the special skill of getting on your nerves.

To say Henry and you didn’t get along would have been the understatement of the century. You could never agree on anything, constantly quarrelled on set and in the last couple of days of filming, you did nothing but exchange spiteful glares.

Oddly, you hardly even remembered what started it, only that Henry was the sweetest person ever who got along with everyone, save for you.

‘At least we got the camera fooled,’ you thought for yourself as you sat on the horse, waiting for Henry to join so the crew could begin shooting the scene.

‘Any time now, Cavill…’

The broad man appeared before, every woven muscle in his tree-trunk thighs flexing as he made his way. You cursed him for that; if only he wasn’t such a fine specimen!

Henry gave you a stoic glare, the golden lenses making him appear even colder. With one easy bounce, he hauled himself onto the horse and pressed his torso right next to your spine.

‘Shit! Fuck!’

Too close, he was too freaking close.

The heat of his body enkindled a flame between your thighs, thickly the wetness caresses your nether lips at the sensation of his groin brushing into your ass.

Was he doing that on purpose?

Not making a sound, he reached his hands forward and caged your body amid his lengthy arms as he held onto the horse’s reins.

“Morning,” he finally spat, out of courtesy.

You shifted uncomfortably in return, trying to soothe the sudden clenching panic in your core. Unfortunately, this did nothing but serve for more friction, and just as you thought things couldn’t get any worst, you felt a little stir against the cleft of your ass.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did your best to ignore it, but the sense of his big, warm body grinding against yours was nearly intoxicating.

‘God, I hate him, I hate him! I hate him!’

“Action!!“ The director yelled, and briefly Henry shifted his entire weight and urged the horse to gallop forward.

Every tread made you want to scream. The movement caused your bodies to writhe into one another, and now the stir you felt throbbing against your ass had grown into a rock-hard erection, and fuck, he felt huge. So big that even in your hatred, you couldn’t help but think of how he would spear you on his cock.

“Stop. doing. that”

You finally heard Henry groan between clenched teeth.

Avoiding a frown that begged to break on your brow, you whispered back, “I am not doing anything.”

Lowly he growled in your ear. “Yes, you are. Stop squirming…”

“You are squirming!” You immediately hissed back.

Henry rolled his eyes behind you and tried to move away, but as the horse suddenly jolted, his body pushed further into yours, causing a moan to sneak out of your mouth.

A low, rumbling growl boomed in his chest, prickling your skin with goosebumps and sending an icy shiver down your spine.

“I thought you hated me…” he whispered and flexed his chest against your back, now deliberately grinding his hardened cock against your ass.

You bit your bottom lip to muffle another moan. “I do. I hate you a lot.”

“Heh,” he growled again, his voice raspier than usual, “I think I’d like to see the extent of your hatred.”

His words made both your cheeks and ears burn. Was he actually implying that…

“Cut!!!”

The director yelled just then, causing both Henry and yourself to pause your banter and glance at him with guilt washed upon your faces. It reminded you of being a teenager, getting caught sneaking out at night.

“Something is off with the lightning, I think we need to take a break and fix it.”

‘Oh, thank god!’ You thought, preparing to jump off and escape this terrible ordeal when Henry’s palm gently slapped across your belly and held you in your place.

“Wait!” He begged.

You turned your head to look at him for a brief moment, only to find you could barely stare him in the eye.

“I can’t… I… umm, people will see…” he whispered gently and lowered his head.

It took you a moment before realisation struck, and the blood rushed to your head. Henry was still very much hard, and both of you knew very well that had you moved now, people would talk.

‘Ohn for fuck sake!’

Read part two

[jhsgf82]

Vamp!Katniss

Edit by @mrspeetamellark​

Well, I can’t find the original post, may have lost it, but here it is again. I started writing this a couple years ago; it’s not posted on AO3 yet, but I’m planning to try and work on it this September/October.

Untitled Summary: Katniss, an immortal countess, travels to America for the funeral of her beloved sister, Prim. However, Katniss is not simply there to pay her respects; she plans to steal Prim’s body in hopes of later resurrecting her. There, she meets a nosy reporter, Peeta Mellark, who seeks an exclusive interview with her. When he won’t take no for an answer, she decides to give him one-at her castle. Loosely based on Netflix’s Dracula (2020).   

~It doesn’t matter how much you learn about me, Peeta Mellark; it’ll do you no good. You may be clever and articulate, but you haven’t even realized that you’re never leaving this place~   

*** “Uh, excuse me, Countess!” a man called out to her.  

Katniss spun around, glaring darkly at the one who’d delayed her. It was him, the one she’d heard called Peeta Mellark. She didn’t have time for this. He was preventing her from attending to very important matters right now...not that he could actually prevent her from doing anything. 

She smirked. 

“What is it?” she called from afar, in the shadows. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, opening and shutting his mouth several times. 

Katniss sighed. 

She was prepared to walk off on him, duck around a corner, and transform when he shuffled slowly forward and spoke again. “I’m so sorry to hear about your sister,” he said, sounding genuine. “Primrose, wasn’t it?” 

Katniss was upon him in mere seconds, although she was 10 or more meters away. “How do you know of her?” she demanded.

Peeta Mellark swallowed thickly, his widened blue eyes flickering between her eyes and her lips. “I’ve heard tell.” 

“What do you know?” she bit out.   

“Just that she recently passed. Of the fever. And I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I know how close the two of you were, but I also heard a rumor about a falling out, so I’m sure this must be even more difficult if you weren’t able to make amends before she died.”  

Roughly, Katniss grasped his cleft chin between her long fingernails. She didn’t like that he seemed to have so much information on her and her sister. Her silver eyes burned into his. “Death is not the end, Mr. Mellark,” she whispered. 

“Oh” was all Peeta Mellark could manage as he bobbed his head. The corner of Katniss’s mouth twitched. Where are your words now? she thought in self-satisfaction.  

Her gaze dropped to his neck, and she observed the delicious pulsing of his jugular. “Tell me,” she spoke in a soft, sultry tone, “do you believe in magic, Mr. Mellark?”

“Yes,” he answered right away. He was staring at her blood-red lips, and his heartbeat was pounding like the hooves of stallions in her ears. “Certain kinds.”  

Gradually, his gaze shifted upward again, and he stared into her eyes. Katniss almost felt as if he could see deeper, as if his senses were as finely attuned as hers (but in other ways); she hoped not. She took him in a moment before releasing his chin.  

He would be easy prey, she decided. But no. He was far too innocent and too seemingly enamored with her, and Katniss could tell. No, she liked a little sport.  It had become too easy after all these years. And so, she spun around to leave. 

“Countess, I-I’ve...I’ve been...following you for years!” he burst out with. She spun back around and stared at him heavily from beneath her lashes. “Wow.  Um, that didn’t quite come out right.” He chuckled nervously. “You must think I’m a creep.” He shook his head and muttered, ‘Get it together, Peeta’ under his breath. “Usually I’m better at this.” 

Better at what, exactly?  

“Speaking,” he answered as if having read her mind. “What I meant was...I’ve studied you, your...career and life, and I find you…,” he gave her an easy smile, “fascinating.” 

Katniss’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know of me?” she hissed. 

“Just what I’ve heard or read, but the sources were largely unreliable. I’d love to learn more. Get your story, the real story.” 

“The real story? You want the real story on me?” 

“Absolutely.” He nodded enthusiastically. “You see, I’m a journalist.” 

“So, you would be writing about me.” 

“Yes. But only with your permission. And only things you want people to know.” 

She didn’t want people to know anything. But she supposed it couldn’t hurt to find out what he knew.   

“You want a meeting with me? Meet me at the hotel. You know where I’m staying, I assume.” He tentatively nodded, his cheeks going rosy. “Then, meet me there, and I’ll give you your interview.” 

“What time?” he asked. 

“Midnight,” she replied immediately, her lips curling up slightly. 

What else?  

Katniss whirled around, then, wrapping her cloak tightly around her body. As she glided off, she heard him eagerly call out, “I’ll be there! I’ll see you at midnight!” 

Katniss grinned to herself. This man surely thinks he is going to receive more than an interview. Oh, and he will. She had plans for this one that dear, sweet Prim would certainly never approve of. But he had asked for it. 

He’d asked for it the moment he mentioned her name...     

[seafavoured]

𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐃, 𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇. hot breath fanned out along the cleft of their ass and the ridge of their spine above. he hummed, appreciative, at the way that ring of muscle fluttered. the way the man himself broke off into a flurry of whimpers and whines, pitched high and tripping over any attempt at words. you - you're - ah. ❛ yes, yes. i'm cruel and wicked, i know. i've been told as much by more than just you, my sweet. ❜

another low, rumbling chuckle as his thumbs spread him wider, splayed them open. a display that he leaned back to appreciate, hole slick and dripping with his own saliva and remnants of lavender oil, reddened and worked open so wide. so ready to swallow his cock, which ached eagerly with every desperate mewling sound silver offered up. but the man's words gave him pause and brought the slow curl of a frown to his lips. no one had ever ... flint wondered then, with startling clarity, whether anyone had ever truly made love to silver. before himself, of course. though, the thought struck him just as suddenly, that the other might not have seen it that way.

❛ well then. that's a crime i'm glad to have rectified. ❜ indeed it was criminal, with how enthusiastically they had been reacting to it. and how tyrannical it would be to deny him more now. he leaned back in, head dipped, and licked a solid stripe from the back of silver's balls, hanging warm and heavy, to his pretty little hole once more. another stroke with the flat of his tongue along its expanse, a teasing swirl of the tip 'round its perimeter, before plunging back inside in earnest. he licked his way in deeper and twisted, stroking languid against those velvety walls, lapping greedily at the heat and wet and taste of silver. thumbs hooked just barely at the rim of his entrance, lips ghosting then pressed flush to it as his tongue withdrew and thrust back in. out and back in. a growl began deep in his throat, wanton and animal and utterly unbidden. fingertips dug beautiful little bruises into their hips as he urged them back onto his tongue, nails biting the flesh.

god, it had been a decade since he'd put this much care into the act of carnal pleasure. he and miranda had shared their intimate moments, but she alone knew his preferences. it was more his act of service for her, an act to satiate his dearest friend. the scant few others to share his bed had been perfunctory at best, hurried and begrudging at worst. his own desires an impediment to the larger design. a distraction. silver was no distraction. it was all else that distracted from them, the main point of his focus, the tidal pool around which all else was forced to congregate.

the sentiment no longer shocked him. it did, however, prompt a curl of heat deep within his loins, cock jumping with impatience and spreading wetness along the fabric of his smallclothes. he pulled back all at once with a final, open mouthed kiss to silver's hole and another to the meat of an ass cheek. the latter was, of course, afforded a sharp smack on his retreat. flint settled on his knees and flipped the other with ease to lay upon his back. the binds, though tight about their wrists, had enough leeway from the posts themselves to allow it.

one handed, he tugged free the laces of his undergarment and shoved them down, easing out of them and tossing them aside. his own cock was large, hanging heavy and flush between his legs. ❛ i want to see your face while i fuck you. but you need to tell me how badly you want it first. ask for me nicely, and i'm yours alone, darling. ❜

Silver had but a single taste of Flint and then had been soundly denied the chance to have him again, time and time over by the crew, by responsibilities, by a hundred things that seemed horribly unimportant in comparison. Now that the danger had passed, an alliance formed with the Maroons, Silver could only be glad they'd found themselves here, where there were walls and doors that locked and beds.

Even that one night they had stolen had been a miracle. Silver had a fair amount of experience fucking men on a ship - men were men and on the ocean they only had each other, after all. While things were undeniably different with Flint, given the feelings involved, even still, it was likely to only ever be hurried ruts and half naked handjobs. No privacy, little time for foreplay.

Even this didn't feel like foreplay. It felt like a main attraction all its own.

"You're cruel." he gasped, "A wicked man." Fists clenched, tugged at the restraints, but he made no real effort to free himself, trusting Flint, knowing the other would bring him pleasure, would make such a show of faith worth his wile, wanting to give himself over to the other's capable hands.

The other's capable and cruel hands, each curl of his fingers pulling another strangled moan from his mouth, body clenching down tight upon him, all but begging without words, enticing Flint to replace those fingers with his cock, let Silver's slick, hungry body consume.

An approving groan as they were pulled to their knees, suspecting that finally, finally Flint would fuck them, their own cock red and heavy between their thighs, already leaking fluid, now dripping messily upon the bedsheets. But no, more teasing, squirming under the gentle brush of Flint's nose, the light scrape of his beard.

A yelp at the sharp little nip upon such sensitive skin, mouth opening to complain, to whine, before Flint did something entirely unexpected - something that cut of his words, pulled a keen, so high and desperate that even with the thick walls surrounding them, Silver might be overheard.

"You - you're - ah." A mingled sort of shocked arousal, at the press of Flint's tongue against his hole, the burn of his beard against sensitive ass cheeks, "I can't - I - mmph." Face falling to press to the pillow, arms pulled tight, hips giving encouraging little rocks back, best they could manage tied up and held taut under the other's strong hands, "Fl-int! Never - no one's ever - holy fuck. Please." No one had ever done this to him before, tongue fucked him. Too intimate, too time consuming, too selfless, in a way. To have Flint lick inside them, lick them open, not unlike the way he licked into their mouth with every hungry kiss, was a revelation, entire body going even hotter, flush spreading cross his chest, heating his cheeks, thighs quivering, eyes gone wide and dark, mouth opening and closing, utterly devoid of speech, of anything but breathless little gasps and the occasionally whimper.