#HE’S A PRETTY MAN I JUST WISH HIS FACE WAS EASIER TO DRAW

[teenagemutantninjatrauma]

Yeah I’m sure this is what normal people spend their time doing. Anyways have his stupid face <3

[themotherofhorses]

Vic!! I have a request pretty pls hehehe,

Creepy dark! Aemond forcing his way with fem!reader as she sleeps after stalking him for many moons? PWEASEEE

what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.

pairing: soft but dark!aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

warnings: explicit language. nsfw smut. slight breeding kink towards the end. consented abduction. aemond is (as usual) obsessive and possessive but is actually kinda a sweetheart in this.

notes: ok so small thing: i kinda put my own twist to this request, because this sort of idea has lived in my head RENT FREE since forevvaaa. hope u enjoy it :)

masterlist

Dragonstone was quiet when arrived, the sea tide calm and peaceful.

Aemond Targaryen could not remember the last time he stepped foot in the castle, if he ever did at all, having spent the entirety of his life behind the bronze doors of the Red Keep. He did not care for the damned island, nor did he hold any love for its people, but his twentieth nameday was fast approaching, and his mother was insisting more and more that he take a wife soon.

“Now, where will you be,” he mumbles to himself as he rips off his riding gloves and tucks them into his belt.

The castle hallways were without light, and no houseguards stood afoot. Aemond smirks. It would be much easier for him to find you, tucked away in your own chamber.

Your personal chamber was nicely furnished, in the colors and style of your shared noble house, and had an aura belonging only to a Targaryen princess. Thick wool carpets covered the floor instead of harsh black stone, and your windows were cracked open just a little, with pretty drapes swaying from the light ocean breeze. The walls were hung with different tapestries, all of horses and dragons, and the doors were flanked by Valyrian sphinxes.

And to the corner was your bed, where you, his niece, lay atop, fast asleep.

Aemond wills his heart to continue beating, and for his cock to behave.

He has not laid eyes on you in almost a full decade, ten years too long for him. Both your parents whisked you away to Dragonstone when you were still a child, soft-faced and in the mid of girlhood.

They refused his mother’s offer for a betrothal between the two of you, and broke his heart to the tiniest of pieces that he wondered if they were still scattered around the Keep. But that was so many moons ago, and time slipped by him.

“Gods be good,” Aemond whispers, moving closer.

What has happened to that little girl, that kid niece of his? In her place sleeps a living goddess, too lovely for mankind. You’ve grown beautiful, a mirror image to your mother, his eldest sister. He bends to kiss your bare shoulder- just a simple and tiny kiss- and you stir in your sleep. It is cute, he admits, but he also can not wait another second longer.

Only the gods above know how much he’s wanted you.

With a hard yank, Aemond draws back the bedsheet covers, causing you to jolt up from the bed. You look around, confused and scared and still half-asleep, purple eyes clouding from drowsiness. In front of you sits a stranger, a man- silver-haired and cloaked in black riding leather. Across his eye, an eyepatch.

Your heart quickens at the sight. “Aemond…?” you call out, unsure.

He smiles, teeth and all. “You do not know how happy it makes me to know you are still able to recognize me, my niece. After all, it has been awhile- ten years, has it not?”

You shrug, trying to wipe the sleep away from your eyes. “What…what are you doing here?” you ask, while patting down the bed, looking for the sheets to cover your chest. “Should you not be at King’s Landing? Why are you here?” Your eyes grow as wide as a dinner plate as you soon add, “Oh no, has something happened? Is it my grandfather?”

But Aemond scoots closer, bringing his face to yours. “Do not fret, nice. I’m here on my own wishes,” and he twirls a thin strand of silver hair around his finger, humming as he watches it fall back around your shoulder. In that sheer Dornish nightgown, you look good enough to eat, and the princeling is feeling beyond ravenous.

“I’m here to collect a debt.”

Lucerys…you think, a sinking feeling in your chest. His stolen eye, that night on Driftmark…

Ten years and Aemond still seeks revenge.

“No,” Aemond says, shaking his head. He moves even closer, grabbing at your shoulders. His palms are rough and callous. “I would dare not hurt you. Anyone but you. You…” he sighs, “-you were promised to me, back when we were children. You were meant to be my wife, and they stole you from me. The only good fucking thing in my life, and it was taken away…”

He studies you, his eye running across your face, down your neck and to your chest.

That Dornish nightgown clings loose to your body, and he can see your nipples perk against the fabric. It sends blood rushing between his thighs. “Tell me, niece, what did I do to deserve that?”

“Aemond…”

“No!” he hisses, tightening his grip on you. “No! You have not the slightest idea of the fucking torture I’ve endured these years. The nights I stayed up, begging to the gods that I might have you. I thought…maybe if they heard my pleas, saw my faith, they would…but no. Ten years, and not a single glimpse of you.” Your breath hitches when he meets your gaze, “I dreamt of you, every damned night. Fought the urges to fly over and collect you from here…”

You shake your head. “Aemond…” you say, softly. “I’m betrothed to another, this cannot be.” You press your hand against his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch, and kiss his forehead. “I have missed you greatly, uncle, but it has been years! So many years. I’m to be married soon.” You pull back, “It is best if you return home, and start finding a lady of your own choosing.”

Aemond sighs, and inside his chest, he feels his heart being ripped apart again.

“You are right, my dearest niece. My sincerest apologies for waking you up, it was quite wrong of me. I shall see myself out,” and he kisses your hand, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “I wish you all the luck in your marriage, and may your husband love and appreciate you till the dying days of his damned life.”

You smile at him, though a bit sad now. “Thank you, uncle. To you as well.”

The princeling turns to leave, and you sit up watching as he makes his way to your door, before sinking back into your bed. “Goodbye, Aemond,” you call out, one final time before your eyes close, failing to see him pause and turn around to look at you.

What was he doing? Foolish man, he thinks. Foolish, stupid man!

Was it in his nature to admit defeat so easily, and to some unnamed wastrel cunt of a man? No. Throughout his life, Aemond suffered nothing but tremendous losses, while being denied the goodness and fairness that a child should’ve had. His lips pucker at the thought.

You were right there, close enough for him to finally claim.

And so he did.

“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Aemond tuts next to your ear, a heavy arm slung over your naked breasts as he holds you as close to his chest as possible. It feels as if he is frightened to let you go, worried you would disappear before his very eye, with another ten years slipping by until he finds you again.

His other hand lies between your trembling thighs, fingering you with such an intensity and speed that it leaves you utterly ruined and in tears. “Aemond…” you hiccup, nibbling at your bottom lip as he groans. “Fuck! You sound so good when you say my name like that. Gods be good, you are wet. Absolutely soaking my fingers. Doesn’t this feel good?” he asks, using his thumb to rub at your clit. “Yeah…it does, doesn’t it?”

You sniffle, fat tears streaking down both cheeks as you nod.

Oh, it feels good. So good, but so wrong as well.

You were to be married in less than a fortnight, to a highborn lord of House Stark, handsome and kind. How would you explain this to him? Or to your parents, who proposed the marriage between you two? How would you tell them that you were ruined? And it was your uncle’s fault.

“Please, Aemond…”

Aemond grabs at your jaw, cradling it in his hand before pulling it close to his face. “Shhh, it will be alright, my love. Do not fret. You will be okay, just give in,” he whispers, quickening his fingers as he fucks them into you, curling two to hit your sweet spot. You almost scream, so overcome with pleasure that it hurts. “This is where you are meant to be, darling, make no mistake in believing that. My bride, my love.”

My woman, he thinks gleefully, watching how your face scrunches up. Your eyebrows furrow and your mouth press together in a tight line, and it is the most beautiful sight.

My woman, made for me. Made for my love and protection and seed…

Goosebumps prickle along your arms as wet sounds echo across the chamber, followed by a strew of whimpers and moans. It sounds so dirty, so sinful and wrong that you pray to whichever god was listening in that no one would overhear such, especially your parents and siblings. Your father would have Aemond’s head, no doubt, and your older brother might rob him of his only other good eye.

“Oh, fuck…” you moan, flinging your head back, “-don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

A minute or so later, your vision blackens, the room spins, and your jaw slacks as you cum plenty around his fingers, all with such a high-pitched shriek that Aemond slaps a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. “What did I say? Stay quiet!” he hisses before chuckling, smearing the mess around your folds while you make an attempt to catch your breath. “Very good, my love. You did so well for me.”

He brings a finger to his mouth, to suck at the taste. “Your taste is heavenly,” he moans, swirling his tongue around it. He then brings two to your mouth, swiping at the tiny bit of drool pooling before stuffing them in. “Suck. Taste yourself now.”

“Dirty girl,” Aemond hums, a smirk curving on his lips as he watches the way you lick and suck at his fingers. “You are digging a grave too deep to escape, darling.”

Ruin me, you want to say. If I’m to die, I rather it be in your hands than anyone else’s…

He lays you back down on the bed next, making sure your head rests comfortably against the pillows. Ten years, Aemond reminds himself. Ten fucking years. He can feel his resolve slowly weakening by the second. You’re too beautiful, too soft and womanly and perfect for him. Every fantasy he dreamt up during boyhood never claim as close as to this. “I dreamt of this for fucking years,” he admits while kissing your pink and pouty lips. “All the possible ways to take you, to fuck this pretty cunt of yours.”

Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes his cock inside you. It is painful- undeniably painful- yet he swallows every cry and wince and moan that you give. Your fingernails dig into his skin from the terrible pain- the stretch and the sting and the weird feeling growing deep within your tummy.

“It is too much…!” you whimper against his lips. “Hurts!”

“Of course it hurts, darling, it is your first time. Every woman hurts when a man takes her first blood. But you can take it.”

“No,” you whine, trying to shove him away. “No, Aemond, it hurts too much-” But Aemond only kisses your temple, sweet and gentle and lovingly, while rocking his hips against yours. “It’ll feel so good soon, my love, trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you, not my precious and sweet girl,” he coos, leaning to rub your noses together, “-my brave girl.”

Ten years.

He could not stop, even if he wished to. No, not now that he finally has you, underneath his body and wet and ripe for his seed.

“I’ll give you our child,” he mutters beside your lips as he pinches your nipple between two fingers and keeps his thrusts hard, deep, and fast. All of it makes your face twist in a soft gasp, your body tightening as you feel that thick rush of pleasure from before, right before you creamed over his fingers.

“Take my seed and have our child. I promise to take you back to King’s Landing and marry you," he vows through ragged breaths, "and spend the rest of our lives making up for those ten years.”

“Aemond,” you pant, clutching onto his shoulders and dragging his face down for a kiss. His skin is sweaty and flushed, and he has never appeared so beautiful before. You love him. You love him so much, how did you spend ten years without seeing him? It makes no sense. You understand his woes now, clear as day, and you want to rid of them forever.

“I love you! I love you, I love you, make me your wife, please. Please!”

He feels your cunt tightening around his cock, and he is ready to give you everything: his heart, his soul, and his seed.

Come the morning, his son will be swelling within your belly, and he will have you seated atop Vhagar, flying back to the Keep to make you his wife, in both the eyes of the gods and the laws of the land.

The next day, at dawning, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s only daughter does not join her family to break fast together. Her three half-brothers and two half-sisters raise eyebrows as they munch quietly on their meals but keep silent, all until little Joffrey asks where his older sister might be. Rhaenyra does not know, and neither do the houseguards, the men of the small council, and the maesters, and it worries her greatly.

Her husband, though, is quick to remind her that the princess- ever their trueborn child- enjoys morning rides on dragonback. “Give her a few hours and she will surely return with a new story to tell us,” Daemon says, while sipping on his wine.

But a few hours turn into the rest of the day, and soon evening creeps by.

A raven arrives from King’s Landing, bearing the family a note:

“I’ve taken what was owed to me. Such a pity you all forgot that what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Metamorph

Part III

Pairing: art teacher!Aemond Targaryen x reader (Horror AU)

Warnings: dark!Aemond, obsessive behavior, murder, horror, yandere, kidnapping, misanthropy, general creepy stuff.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: Drawn to the artworks of one of the most esteemed artists in the city, you wish to learn from him and find out what inspires him to create his masterpieces. You have no idea how much his secrets will cost you.

Part I | Part II

____________

You clenched your fancy Kohinoor pencil between your fingers like it's a gun, staring at Aemond already posing in front of all of you. No procrastination, you reminded yourself firmly as you drew a long vertical line across the paper to balance the future drawing. Your teacher hadn't berated you for your mistakes even once. It'd be fine if you got this one wrong, too. Anything was better than an empty sheet.

God, but Aemond was so pretty. His high cheekbones, his strong nose and jaw, and those thin but expressive lips, the long scar across the left side of his face...

You quickly hid behind your easel.

Breathe. Just get out of your head, you repeated to yourself Aemond's very words. You needed to get started, and whatever happened next didn't matter as long as you allowed yourself to draw whatever came to your mind. Explanations and logic be damned. You were an artist! At these rare moments, you were supposed to feel, not think.

Slowly inhaling and exhaling to keep your anxiety at bay, you uncleched the pencil in your fingers and slowly started shaping the figure on a sheet. It's fine. Aemond wouldn't get mad anyway as long as you did what he said.

The more you put your pencil to the sheet, the easier it was getting, something unfurling in your chest, putting a stop to your anxious thoughts and fears of failure as you continued to build Aemond's body, starting to get into details once you finished with the primary form. Regardless of his talent and uniqueness as an artist, he was still only a fellow human being like you. There was no need to magnify his power.

By the time Aemond walked over to you, you were almost finished with the painting, landing the last strokes to color the palms of the man on the sheet. It was that very red paint you had been mooning over for many months, complimenting its unusual vibrant color and a pleasant consistency. It was hard to believe you were now using it for your own artwork, but time was running out, and you didn't have a spare moment to be drooling over the paint.

"What do we have here?" The artist hummed, making you jump in your seat. How on Earth did he manage to walk so quietly in a room full of tables, chairs, and people?

Trying to focus on his question, you suddenly realized you had no clue how to present your idea to the teacher. Did you even draw what he had asked you to? What was that, not changing the silhouette and using mainly paint to express yourself or something?

You felt the beads of sweat promptly forming on your forehead as you clenched your jaw.

"You've been improving," Aemond told you, eye on the drawing as he tilted his head to the side. "Body proportions seem right, and I like the way you shaped the arms and legs. You had difficulties with them before."

Oh, really? You surely had problems drawing arms, but you didn't notice you were becoming better. A pleasant surprise. Not that one wouldn't expect to improve after taking lessons from the most esteemed artist in the city.

"Why did you paint the head and hands in red?"

Oh, crap. Why did you? You frantically searched for an answer other than "no idea, Sir, I think my subconsciousness just took over my body." Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you looked up to Aemond bent over, intently studying your artwork.

Cautiously, you muttered, "I-I think every change starts from the head, Sir."

Would that qualify for an answer? But Aemond quickly directed his gaze at you and demanded, "And hands?"

Biting your poor lip that no amont of lip balm was going to save after today's lesson, you mumbled, "Hands are the tool that make the change happen, Sir."

"Very logical, yes. Now, forget about trying to give me a logical answer and tell me what you felt when you were drawing this. Tell me about the paint."

He bent over even closer to you, practically breathing into your face, and you almost lost the ability to produce any adequate sounds. Your teacher clearly saw through your bullshit, and the thought that he was upset or even mad at you made you feel miserable.

"It's a metamorph, Sir," you whispered, one step closer to having a panic attack and hoping no student in the room was listening to your rambling, "and red is a color of life. Of change."

Aemond cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at you. "Why do you think red is the color of change? Is it because the change scares you?"

"It's not the change itself that scares me. It's what the metamorph is becoming, Sir," you uttered in a small voice and then added even quieter, praying only Aemond could hear you, "I think- I think he's turning into something violent, Sir. Something terrifying."

It took you a second to recognize what you've just said and what reaction it has provoked.

All of a sudden, you were staring in the face of Aemond Targaryen with his thin lips stretched so wide in a smile that it was even a little creepy. Was he... content? Did he want to laugh at your silly attempt to explain your feelings when you'd been drawing? You wouldn't even be offended, to be fair. It sounded like nonsense to you, too.

But no, he didn't seem to find it funny. Instead, you felt his palm squeezing your shoulder firmly, his smile unwavering as he spoke to you in a hushed voice the way you'd been answering to him, "Very good. My favorite artwork today so far."

As he got up, moving to the next student on your left, you were ready to jump and run away from the studio because, clearly, you were going to burst from the excess of feelings and anxiety in the next five seconds. Your teacher said it was his favorite painting today. This banal, lacking in originality in its every aspect thing was his favorite. When blood rushed to your head, making you sweat and feel disoriented, you clutched the brush between your fingers, squeezing your eyes shut.

Aemond Targaryen liked your painting. Despite being the very inspiration for the beautiful but horrifying metamorph, he actually had some sort of fondness for it because later, before you left, he actually asked you to allow him to keep the artwork for his own collection. Why did he like it so much? You had no idea.

_________

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: another little focus on dad drei! no worries, we’re moving on to some smut and the early years of the relationship with the next few fics lol. hahah i literally did not think this would be done today but work was quiet so i got to write and post and be the superstitious bitch that i am. so here we go, posting right before i watch the isles/caps game (on tv this time). i love love love the headcanon prompts and i will 100% be getting to all of them at some point, so be on the lookout 🥰

word count: 2.3k

tw: nothing really, a little innuendo

summary: andrei took care of all four kids while you were out and you come home to delightful chaos

“Hey, Nykki, I’m at the door, I have to go,” you wedge your phone in between your shoulder and cheek and juggle your bags. “I hope D’s awake because my boobs are ready to explode.”

Your friend laughs on the other end of the line, “oh my god, better get inside then. I’ll talk to you later about coordinating the kids for game day this week.”

“Perfect! I know I said I wasn’t going to, but I’ll probably bring D along, like it’s just easier to strap him to my chest and go,” you shrug as you push the front door open. “Fourth kid problems, just have to come along everywhere. Thank god he sleeps anywhere.”

Nykki wishes her own youngest would sleep anywhere and says good-bye, promising to text later about the plans. You slide your phone into the back pocket of your jeans and step inside the house, immediately hit with the soundtrack to The Little Mermaid. The movie is blaring, echoing around the house. You set your bags on the floor and kick off your sneakers and pad into the den, the source of the movie’s noise.

The movie’s playing on the big screen TV, Ariel singing about wanting to be where the people are, and your husband and kids are sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. You giggle, muffling the noise behind your hand, when you get a good look at Andrei and the kids. The girls are in full princess regalia - Evie as Sleeping Beauty, Alina as Belle, and Kira as Rapunzel - the costume dresses swishing around as they move. Andrei has two pairs of fairy wings strapped to his back, the elastic armholes stretched to their limits. Dimitri is in his arms, draped face down over one of Andrei’s forearms, his little cheek squished to the side against the crook of Andrei’s elbow. You can see that the three-month-old is awake, watching his crazy big sisters dance around.

“Looks like I missed quite the party,” you tease, drawing four pairs of eyes to you. Andrei grins and you can’t stop the laughter that escapes when you see the smears of kid make-up all over his face. There are butterfly clips in his hair, holding back the overgrown strands in a haphazard style.

“Mommy!” Three little voices combine into one as they rush you, hugging at your legs.

“Hi, my little loves,” you lift Kira onto your hip and kiss the two older girls on top of their heads. “Did you have fun with Daddy?”

“Daddy’s pretty,” Kira chips, smiling widely. Andrei laughs, adjusting Dimitri in his arms.

You smile a crinkle-eyed smile at Kira and agree, “Daddy’s really pretty.”

Evie pipes up, “he came to the salon today and got the works!” You smother a laugh because where did she even hear that?

“He needs to look pretty because he’s got a date tonight,” Alina chimes in and you lift an eyebrow at your husband and kids.

“Oh, a big date, huh?” You tease. “She must be someone special, for you to go to the salon for the works.”

Andrei nods, the glittery eyeshadow smeared across the top half of his face catching the light, “the most special. She’s the love of my life.”

Your stomach flutters with butterflies, still affected by this man after all these years. Just when you think you can’t love him more, you come home to this sight, Andrei with your babies surrounding him and being the best dad in the world. Tears well up in your eyes and you wonder if the postpartum hormones are still wreaking havoc. You wipe at your eyes with the side of your index finger and grin. “Well,” you pause, still emotional, “I think she’s just going to love what your stylists have done.”

“Mommy,” Evie whispers, looking at you like she feels bad that you’re so dumb, “Daddy’s date is you!”

“Oh!” You fake gasp, making Kira giggle. “Really? You guys got Daddy all fancied up for me?”

Alina cracks up, dancing around the couch cushions that have somehow ended up on the floor. “Daddy says that he’s takin’ you to dinner tonight and me an’ Evie said we needed to make him pretty ‘cause you get pretty before dinner. I did his yipstick!”

You love the way she mispronounces words and have basically forbidden anyone from correcting her. “I love his yipstick,” you tell her seriously. The hot pink smudged all around his lips is probably going to stain his face and beard, but he puckers his lips at you, making kissing noises.

“Tell Mommy that she should kiss me,” Andrei says. “I’ll share the yipstick with her.”

Alina’s mispronunciation in his accent makes you laugh and the girls tug at your hands, chanting “kiss Daddy! Kiss Daddy!” Unable to resist your kids and the prospect of an Andrei kiss, you lean down, holding Kira with one arm and cupping Andrei’s cheek with the other hand so you can kiss him chastely. One of his hands reaches out to curl around your thigh, squeezing gently. He laughs when you pull back, “hot pink is your color.”

“Mommy’s pretty now!” Kira giggles, patting your cheek. You press a smacking kiss to her cheek, blowing a little raspberry and she shrieks with laughter. There’s a hot pink smudge on her cheek now too.

Andrei looks between you and Kira and his eyes twinkle with mischief. “I think that Ev and Alya need some yipstick too,” he says and reaches out with his free hand to pull Evie in close. He kisses her cheeks and forehead, making her laugh, and getting kiss marks on her skin.

You do the same to Alina, who struggles and fights like she’s fighting for her life. Her laughter is the only sign that she’s enjoying the kiss attack. “No, Mommy! No more kisses!” She wiggles away from you, grinning her little gap-toothed smile. You love that little smile.

Dimitri babbles in Andrei’s arms and you feel bad because you had almost forgotten about him while you were teasing Andrei - that seems to be a negative of being the fourth kid. But now that he’s made his presence known, your overly-full boobs ache a little and you remember exactly what you needed to do when you came inside, before you were distracted by Andrei’s makeover. You settle Kira on the couch and she immediately slides off to run after her big sisters where they’re performing a little show in front of the TV, giving you and Andrei a minute to breathe.

“Give me my baby,” you say. Andrei hands him over and gets to his feet, shaking out the arm that Dimitri had been resting on. He struggles to get his arms out of the fairy wings, getting tangled in the two pairs for a second before finally freeing himself. He folds them carefully and sets the costume pieces on the couch. You cuddle the baby close and shift him to one arm so you can pull down the neck of your shoulder and pop one boob out of the top of your bra. Once Dimitri is comfortably latched, you head for the kitchen, needing just a little privacy because the girls are way too honest with what they see around the house. You’re not really looking for a commentary on your pancake boobs right now.

“Feeling a little more steady?” Andrei asks quietly, kissing the top of your head when you sit down on one of the counter stools. He moves around the kitchen easily, making you a turkey and cheese sandwich as you talk.

“Mhm,” you hum, watching him move. After an overwhelming few days with Andrei on the road, he’d noticed that you were short-tempered this morning and ushered you out the door, reassuring you that he would handle the kids for a few hours while you did whatever you wanted. “I needed to get out of the house without eight little hands attached to me.” You chuckle a little, but the sensation of being touched out is definitely a real thing.

“Good,” he says, licking the mustard off the butter knife when he’s done with it. You hate that habit of his - one day he’s going to slice his tongue off and then where will you both be? “You look calmer.”

You shrug a bit. “Looks like you had everything handled,” you say and it’s not even a tease, because the house has definitely looked worse when it’s just you and the kids.

Andrei sets the sandwich in front of you and you take a huge bite, starving. “I ran them around outside for a bit,” he says. “The play set got a lot of use and Alina tried to swing herself to the moon. Dimka was getting cranky out in the cold though, so we came inside, had some lunch. The girls wanted to watch a movie and Evie wanted me to paint her nails. Which turned into this,” he grins, gesturing vaguely at his face and hair with one hand.

“I really like that,” you reply, waving your free hand in front of his face in the same vague gesture. “And what’s that I heard about taking Mommy on a date, Mister Svechnikov?”

His eyes twinkle dangerously and he leans forward, palms flat on the counter, veins in his forearms bulging. The glittery makeup and hair clips really should ruin the image, but only add to his appeal. “Daddy,” his voice deepens and grows raspy, “wants to take care of Mommy and show her how much he appreciates everything she does for the family.”

Your thighs clench together instinctively, a rush of warmth filling your body. Your cheeks heat up and you chew on your lower lip. “I like the sound of that,” you whisper, casting a glance over your shoulder at the girls. They’re totally absorbed in the movie, little mouths hanging open and eyes wide and focused.

Andrei smirks at you, cradling your jaw in one hand and titling your chin up so he can lean down and kiss you. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip and your mouth falls open for him. His thumb and index finger tighten around your chin gently and you squirm in your seat, letting out a soft gasp. Dimitri stabs at your chest with those sharp baby fingernails and you yelp, pulling back. “Ow,” you grumble, squinting down at the baby. It’s not like he was getting squished in between the two of you.

“Spoilsport,” Andrei jokes, brushing the tip of his finger over the slope of the baby’s nose. Dimitri wrinkles his nose and his mouth falls off your breast with a little pop. “Whoops,” Andrei winces and you quickly shuffle around, switching him to the other boob before he can start to cry.

“Crisis averted,” you sigh at the relief of the baby eating. Your breasts already feel less achy. “So, where are we going on this date?”

Andrei helps you get your other breast back in your bra, taking an extra few seconds to fondle you, your sensitive nipples reacting to the touch of his fingers. “I thought the new Greek place downtown,” he says.

“That sounds like a fantastic plan,” you grin, already thinking of how delicious the food is going to be. A thought occurs to you. “Who’s watching the kids?”

“Marty and Nykki,” Andrei replies, a smug smile frown on your face when he sees the implication dawn on your face.

“You had this planned? Nykki didn’t say anything when I was talking to her earlier!” You laugh at the surprise. “They’re going to watch our four and their two?”

Andrei nods. “I asked them two days ago and they’re happy to chip in. Half the kids should be asleep by the time they get here anyway,” he leans in to kiss you sweetly. “I told you, solnyshka, I want to show you how much I appreciate the sacrifice you make during the season. A little planning ahead is nothing.”

“Drei,” your voice catches on emotion, “you’re the best husband. Honestly, what did I do to deserve you?”

“You’re just you,” he replies simply. “My best friend, love of my life, mother to the best kids in the world.”

“Stop it,” you cry, waving a hand at him. “I just stopped feeling like I’m going to cry at everything. Don’t be so sweet to me.”

He laughs and grabs your hand out of the air, squeezing your hand gently before kissing the tips of your fingers. “Would it help if I said I wanted to get you pregnant again soon?” His smile is cheeky and you know he’s not entirely joking.

You scoff, wiping at the last of your tears. “Yes, that does help, you lunatic neanderthal,” you deadpan.

“I’m not kidding,” he says. “I think the boys are outnumbered here, Dimka needs a brother.” He traces the tip of his index finger over the lines on your palm.

It is something you’ve wondered about, but not really discussed, whether Andrei would want to give your son a little brother. It’s not an entirely terrible thought. The Svechnikov Brothers, 2.0. Splitting time watching hockey in two different cities in another eighteen years. Following in Dad and Uncle Geno’s footsteps.

You shake your head. Nope, that has to be the baby hormones talking.

“Let’s see just how good dinner is and then we’ll talk,” you say faintly. Dimitri grumbles in your arms, done eating and ready to be burped. Andrei takes him while you fix yourself up and he knows exactly what he’s doing - displaying extreme paternal expertise and looking downright edible with the tiny baby in his arms. Damn him.

“Mommy! Alina said a bad word!”

“I did not! All I said was stupid head! That’s not a bad word! Evie’s a bad word!”

You look at Andrei with a raised eyebrow. “You want to add a fifth kid to this?”

“Why not?” He grins back, showing off his stupid dimple. “We make cute kids.”

“Alina,” you call back, shaking your head at Andrei and trying to tamp down a smile, “stupid head is not a nice word and it’s especially not nice to call your sisters stupid.”

[zxmickeyzx]

Mumbattan Cafe Ch. 1

Barista! Pavitr x Artist! Miles

Miles came into the cafe for some chai tea, to see his friend Gwen on her shift and make some art while relaxing in the cafe. Instead he got some Barista who looked very annoyed when he tried to order and then became very passionate about ranting to him about how people say chai tea instead of just saying chai. Miles didn't mind him lecturing him on it though.

At least it was from someone so cute.

Masterlist ~ Next

Today was an opposite day for Miles. For once he woke up pretty early, early enough to put on some nicer clothes than usual, wearing a simple pair of army green cargo pants with a red sweatshirt and his usual headphones around his neck. He usually wore sweatpants, some kinda t-shirt that could get messy and a bomber jacket since it was easier to wear when rushing out of his apartment for classes and no one really cared what you wore in college. Especially in art classes.

Since he got up pretty early this time around he decided to do some light cleaning in his room and around the house. Ganke was thankfully a heavy sleeper so Miles could be as loud as he wanted in the mornings or late at night. Miles still wonders how he was acing all his classes.

As soon as he was done cleaning up his space for a bit, he decided to see if his friend Gwen wanted to hangout. He liked the energy that would bounce off each other while doing their craft. The amount of inspiration they both got was something to behold. They were good friends from the academy as well as being in most of each other's classes so it was bound to happen. At some point he used to have a crush on her, but they never pursued anything and realized they were better off as friends.

As Miles was waiting for a response from Gwen, he started thinking about what he should eat. He could whip up something, but with the way his mother raised him, he might get full cooking while tasting the food to make sure he gets it right and he didn't want to deal with the dishes afterwards. Maybe he could make a quick sandwich. Yeah that sounded pretty good at the moment.

Before that sandwich idea really took off his phone vibrated in his hand. It was his friend Margo asking him if he had done the assignment Mr.O’hara posted on class site. He did the assignment as soon as he could because he usually felt like Mr. O’hara usually had it out for him. He quickly responded to Margo telling her yes, and sent his version of the instructions to the assignments since his teacher liked to over complicate things in his wording and instructions. She texted him a quick thanks and asked what his plans are for today, to which he responds he is waiting for Gwen to text him back about hanging out.

“Morning”

Miles looked up to see Ganke half-awake, going to the fridge to rummage through it. His friend settled on some cereal by the time his phone vibrated again.

Turns out Gwen is working at her Job currently since someone called out sick according to Margo. The cafe Gwen worked at was a small but decently popular place. He could see her and grab a quick bite to eat. He loved the vibes of the cafe, it felt homey. Maybe even stay and draw some art.

Miles ponders on the thought a bit more, until his thoughts are interrupted.

“Miles!”

He whipped his face to look at Ganke, who sighs.

“Dude, you okay? I’ve been trying to get your attention for a bit.”

“Yeah man, just thinkin about somethin real quick. Need something?”

“Just wanted to ask you if you finished the work Mr. O’ hara assigned.”.

“Yeah man, I just sent margo the simplified instructions, Ill send it to you real quick”

“Thanks man. Appreciate it”. He goes back to eating. Miles just shakes his head, knowing Ganke wont start until the real last minute.

Miles wishes he could relax and then do work without having to rush. But they way his mother and father raised him to do work early and relax as a reward which worked pretty well for him but also gave him an unofficial teacher assistant role for all of his friends.

Ultimately he decided to head out, so he grabbed his art bag with his wallet and keys. Then quickly said goodbye to Ganke and went out. The moment Miles stepped outside he took a deep breath to enjoy the autumn air. He was more of a summer guy but he appreciated this season due to representation of new beginnings. Plus being back in school is always something he looked forward to.

The cafe was about a 30 minute walk, not bad. He puts on his headphones and just enjoys the moment.

He waved to some people he saw almost everyday by his place while walking.

After a bit he arrived at the cafe. It was a decent size cafe, with cute outdoor seating and indoor decorations. It went for the simplistic aesthetic which Miles could appreciate.

Once inside the cafe, it gave off a warm-home vibe, welcoming you inside. The cafe was a bit empty, he guesses he beat the morning rush.

Miles tried to look for a certain blonde with pink tints in her hair, but could only see a cashier and the barista at the moment that didn't fit that description. The line wasn't that long, so Miles decided to hop to the back of it to wait for his turn.

He might as well grab something to drink and eat while he is here even if he could find Gwen.

Maybe she was on break.

He tried looking at the menu trying to figure out what he should order. Maybe a bagel with cream cheese and strawberry jelly.

Yeah that sounded nice right now, but what to drink. He then hears the person in front of him mention to someone on the phone that the cafe had the best chai teas.

Chai tea huh? That didn't sound too bad to have at the moment. Perfect drink to relax with on a day like today.

While waiting for his turn he decided to text Ganke and ask if he wanted anything from the cafe at all. To which his roommate quickly respond “Im good”.

After about 15 minutes of waiting, it was finally his turn to order.

“Hello Sir, Welcome to Mumbatton Cafe! How may I take your order?”

Shit.

The cashier was cute.

He had beautiful, lush black hair with waves like the ocean. Warm brown skin that gave off a golden hue and deep chocolate brown eyes. Miles could almost stare into them forever with how mesmerizing they were.

He almost did until the cashier spoke again.

“Sir? Have you decided yet?”

Oh yeah he was here to eat not to stare and be known as a weirdo.

Miles cleared his throat before speaking.

“Sorry about that, uh, can I have a bagel with cream cheese and strawberry jelly?”

The cashier nodded with a smile while putting his order into the system.

'He has a nice smile' Miles thought to himself.

“Alright, and anything you’d like to think with that?” The cashier asks while looking down at screen of his order.

“Oh yeah, I heard the chai tea here is good, so I’d like to try some.”

There was suddenly a silent pause. Like the air just shifted. The Cashier's face turned annoyed, almost angry-like.

In a lowered voice Miles heard.

“What did you just say?” The cashier's eyes widened as he slowly looked up at Miles.

Miles was confused with the sudden change of mood. He didn't think he said anything wrong. He only said the name of a drink. Maybe he misunderstood what Miles had said.

“Um, chai tea?” He repeated slowly so he could be understood this time.

If looks could kill, Miles thinks he would be ten feet under.

Next

Tagged List:

@ar1-thecat, @marrz-sucks,

[unecoccinellenoire]

i wish you would write a fic where … hesperia is flirting with our nathalie. she’s cool with it.

It happens in a matter of seconds. One moment she’s talking to a despondent Adrien on the sofa trying to coax out how exactly he got back to Paris from the train while the television drones on about Monarch and the next an explosion shatters the window.

Bomb, her mind screams at her.

Nathalie throws herself over Adrien instinctively, but her prostheses weigh her down and throw her off balance and when she lands it’s against the sofa without her charge in sight. And then a body lands against hers and panic that Adrien would try to protect her shoots down her spine before she belatedly registers she’s being shielded by someone larger than her not smaller.

As her saviour gently lifts her she relaxes against his purple suit, and lets her eyes rest for a second against the bright light as she inhales that soothing masculine scent of his. She might despise Gabriel right now, she might know that any safety he appears to offer is an illusion, but that doesn’t mean that illusion isn’t working for her right now.

“It’s alright madame,” he promises in a soft baritone that-

-that isn’t Monarch’s booming tones.

She opens her eyes. This isn’t Gabriel. He’d never wear just the Butterfly Miraculous when he has the rest of them, and even if he did this isn’t Hawk Moth. The mask only covers part of his place and his fair hair hangs freely over it.

Her brain buzzes in confusion. Or maybe that’s her ears ringing from the explosion. Either way she’s too out of it to come up with anything more sensible than, “safe?”

His eyes are kind but something sparks in them as he smiles. It looks familiar. It looks like how Gabriel had used to smile at Emilie before unleashing some phrase he thought was exceedingly charming.

“A place like this isn’t a good place for a pretty lady like you,” he says, “much as it’d be a pleasure to keep rescuing you I wouldn’t be much of a hero if I left you in danger like that.”

An embarrassing warmth spreads below her stomach. Flirtation isn’t wholly unfamiliar to Nathalie, for all that she’s buried in an industry where beauty is the currency and she hardly draws attention. But usually the flirtation comes loaded with ulterior motives from people who know who she is.

Then again. This man has apparently stolen the Butterfly Miraculous from Gabriel. No doubt he does know who she is and he does have ulterior motives.

She needs to get it together.

“A pleasure, Isn’t that a bit forward? I don’t even know your name.”

“Hesperia, my lady.” He looks like he’d tip a hat to her if he had one, “and yours? Is it worthy of you?”

“I don’t know about worthy. I’m Nathalie.”

“That’s a beautiful name. Like you. But I really should get you somewhere safe- I don’t like the sound of this Monarch character.”

“Monarch?” She traces the Miraculous on his chest, “didn’t you take this from him?”

“I’m sorry to dash your hopes. This isn’t my universe my dear.”

“Oh.” She studies his face, that tanned skin, those eyes, those cheekbones. “And you’re- a hero?”

She tries to imagine it. Gabriel, a hero and not a villain. Flirting with her rather than eternally loyal to Emilie. She can’t hold the image in her mind. It seems too impossible. And yet the man in front of her clearly exists, clear is a possibility.

“I try my best.” He says, still smiling.

She raises an eyebrow. “When you’re not flirting with random woman?”

Though maybe being easily distracted is a trait it’s easier to reconcile with her Gabriel. The real Gabriel. Because this man is probably someone completely different in his universe.

“Well-“

“Or am I not random? Do you know me back home?” She interrupts. If Gabriel could be a hero, could have moved on from Emilie then maybe-

“I’m afraid not. A loss I assure you. Now, I found you in Gabriel Agreste’s home. Does he have a panic room? A bomb shelter? Somewhere I can stow you safely.”

Her heart fell into her stomach. Of course he didn’t know her. Of course she was just a random distraction to him. How could she be so stupid that Gabriel still had this grip on her even as he cared more about defeating a teenager than he did about her life?

“If he did it wouldn’t be for me,” her tone was as sour as the bile in her throat. It wasn’t quite true. Gabriel had never changed the code to where Emilie lay. She could hide down there. Only she didn’t care not, “Gabriel wouldn’t care if I died.”

He’d as good as told her that. Told her that it wasn’t about Emilie anymore either.

“Nathalie, I’m sure-“

But she can’t bear to hear such reassurances from him. Screw it, she decides, and drags him down by his lapels and stops him with her mouth on his.

He’ll probably drop her and leave her here, or stop her and lecture her about the morality of kissing people without asking first. She doesn’t care right now. She needs him to stop. And she needs to indulge in the pretence offered by his flirtation. That someone could want her, love her.

She wants to kiss someone before she dies.

And she’s dying sooner rather than later.

Hesperia gasps against her. He doesn’t do any of those things she’s expected. He lets her tongue into his mouth, and he’s warm and wet and perfect and he tastes a little like Gabriel’s favourite coffee.

Nathalie is the one to stop, as another crash shakes the roof they’re on.

“You should go.” She says, “put me down somewhere on the streets. I’ll be fine. We’re used to akuma attacks here. And- sorry.”

Those infuriating eyes are all pity, “I think you needed that. I am sorry Nathalie. That you have to live through these, akuma did you call it? Attacks. For whatever this Gabriel Agreste has done to you. And that I can’t see you again. But I have-“

“Your own universe to get back to. I get it. And you wouldn’t like me if you knew me anyway.” He’s a hero after all. Nathalie is the opposite of that. “And I’ll probably already be dead by any time you might come back to this universe.”

His eyebrows drew together, the corners of his mouth drooped down, “I don’t know you Nathalie. But I can tell you that you deserved better.”

“I don’t.” She has no illusions about that. She brought this on herself when Emilie had asked them to let her go. She hadn’t even managed to succeed in saving her. And she’d failed completely to care for Adrien, and perhaps even Gabriel like she’d asked her to. “You should go.”

“Alright,” he jumped down to street level with her still cradled in his arms and then gently deposited her down on the ground, “but Nathalie, do something for me?”

“What?” What could she possibly do for him?

“Don’t lose hope.”

She’d lost that already, had lost it the moment Gabriel had admitted to not just giving his past self the USB she’d meticulously prepared.

The one she’d given him knowing it would save her and Emilie at the cost of the friendship between them because had Emilie never fallen sick they would have continued that relationship of just messages on birthdays and at Christmas that they’d had after Tibet.

Only to discover Gabriel wasn’t even willing to sacrifice his pride.

But looking at Hesperia she finds she didn’t have the cruelty to crush him with that reality. Maybe that means he isn’t Gabriel.

She sighs, “I’ll try.”

And as she watches him leap away she thinks that maybe that wasn’t entirely a lie. That maybe she has no hope for her but herself but she can hope for the Nathalie of that world, that she’s happy and will be loved back. Can hope that the heroes here will beat Gabriel and somehow Adrien can be protected through all of it. Can hope she can do enough to ensure he’s safe.

[yuichi-ro]

𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘢 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

cw: fem!Reader, dom!Reader, sub!Wakasa oviposition, sex toys, anal (m!receiving), belly bulge, watersports, hands free cum, nicknames (ma’am, pretty kitty, etc), NSFW content, unedited word count: 2.7k    

The search history on Wakasa’s phone was, enlightening, to say the least.

You’d lost more than just a few minutes scrolling through the pages, bookmarks and other tucked away hidden treasures of his dirty mind in the confines of his smartphone. Some of it average. Some of it dark web worthy that painted a very different picture of unenthused man. But one thing that always came back to almost all of the frequented videos were one thing. Eggs. 

Wakasa wanted a belly full of eggs and it was painfully obvious from his search history. Who were you to deny such a splendid thing to your lover?

With the curve of the toy pressed against his sensitive seam. You cooed as you ran your palms over his thighs and let the weight of the new toy press against his taint with no more relief than that. His cock twitching against his slender hips even if he was only half erect . It was charming since he hadn’t been touched even once yet. This excitement purely by the sight of your newly introduced toy.

“You like it?” Your hands gripped his thighs. Drawing out a tired sigh from the man laid out under you who did his best to not close his eyes while you spoke, “Was so hard to keep it under wraps when I ordered it...”

Taking the toy back into your possession. Wakasa was no match when you slipped the underside of the alien like silicone toy against the underside of his cock. His member throbbed while he twisted his fists in the sheets underneath and kicked his feet out to no avail as he couldn’t buck his hips up against the toy for enough relief. Swelling cock no longer a half hard on leaking on his pale thigh. Now as you drew the empty new toy along his cock. Purposely grinding and fake frotting against him. Wakasa’s eyes fluttered to the back of his head. Cock head purple and leaking. Slimy precum slipping down around the folds of foreskin pulled back from his sensitive tip. Each swipe of the toy making it messier but drawing out as many equally pathetic moans each time.

“S-Shit-” He managed with a shaky breath. Able to open his eyes just to look down at you smug between his thighs. Wakasa wasn’t about to tell you to stop. Mind spinning he could hardly focus on the toy. When next to you was what he really wanted all along.

“You want these?” You look over to the container of very graphically depicted egg shaped balls. There had to be at least half a dozen of them. Fleshy, clear, jelly like in texture. He hadn’t even gotten to touch them but already the idea of having them inside him was making him squirm, “You know-” You pull the precum covered tip of said toy away. Inspecting it and the slime trails he’d left on it as Wakasa remained immobilized under you, “I had to stop what I was doing and rub my poor clit after I saw all your search history....naughty naughty kitty.”

Wakasa wiggled his hips. Snug in the bed under you. His entire body on fire yet he couldn’t vocalize his needs as blush spread from the tips of his ears and to the rest of his face. He’d dream of this moment. But never thought it would happen. And that you’d be this into it.

Sighing heavily, all for show, you give him a playful pout as you examine the toy. Remarking how he’ll have to be a good boy. And push them all out for you. Of course only after you stuffed him to the brim with these gooey nasty eggs. Making a momentary show of your new toy. The precum that he’d leaked all over the tip made it that much easier for you to slip your finger into the opening at the top. Assuring Wakasa was watching diligently as you fucked the opening of the toy.

First one finger. Then another. Swirling it around and making a show of how stretchy the material was. After all it was made to fit all these wonderful eggs in it. 

“Mmm I bet you wish I could do this to your cock.” You smirked, knuckles deep in the tubing of the toy as you rubbed his precum into the silicone toy, “Finger fucking your dick hole like this. Getting it nice and stretched out for eggs....because we really know where you want these laid don’t we?”

Adverting his eyes Wakasa wiggled his bottom down towards you. Amplifying how badly he wanted this when his ass rubbed your leg. Where you sat cross legged between his spread legs. Left with Wakasa nothing to grind and relieve himself on. But as you teased and talked, just to have him throb against the air and nothing else. Beads of precum rolling down his shaft and staining his tuffs of pubic hair surrounding the base of his cock. He looked good enough to eat. 

But that would wait. Right now you were living out your good boy’s fantasy.

“Do you want these?”

Wakasa remained silent but staring.

“I said-” You tapped the alien like toy against his ass and raised an eyebrow, “Do you want this?”

“Y-Yes-” He managed through clenched teeth. Eyes unable to look away from the toy resting under his cum heavy balls.

“Yes what?”

Groaning and rolling his hips up against the toy Wakasa let his head roll back and the world’s most pathetic moan leave him, “I want your eggs- Please ma’am- I just- I want to feel your eggs in me-”

“See, now was that so hard?” You take hold of the bottle of lube next to the treasure trove of eggs. 

So very liberal with the lube. Pouring it from above his cock. Watching the clear slime of the vicious lube rub down his cock. Wakasa’s already glistening member now slathered in lube as it flowed like rivers down around his pubic hair and pooled around his ass. So when the tip touched his entrance there was almost no resistance. To both of your pleasures.

Wakasa’s entire body trembled and thrashed. Urging his body down on the toy faster. Because obviously the speed that you slid the toy in wasn’t enough. The man’s twitching insides swallowing each centimeter you gave him. Followed by every inch. Until your closed fist around it’s base rubbed against his ass cheeks and balls. Making you smile pleasantly with how well he took it. Holding it deep in him as another hand came up to fondle his poor neglected balls. 

“I saw all that twisted fucking shit you watched- That you read-” Your fingers massaging and tugging at his sack as you slowly pushed the toy in and out of him. Wakasa melting quickly under you as the gooeiness from the lube made the toy slide down to the hilt with each push. Those grip-able slender hips of his shuddering and bucking up against your attention. Attempting to fuck himself on the toy but you simply wouldn’t allow it as you kept the pace agonizingly slow, “You must forgive me....of course I’d love to fill you up with eggs. Fuck that cock hole of yours until your gushing out my seeds....laying my eggs in your belly....but I hope this will suffice my dear pretty kitty.”

“Mo-More-” He managed. Already breathlessly fucked out expression creeping onto his otherwise complacent face. Wakasa couldn’t get the ache, no, the itch in his insides taken care of this way, “Please- Ma’am more please-”

“You want my eggs in you?”

“More than anything.”

You sunk the toy down to the hilt. Pressing the thicker base into his entrance and spreading him. No more toy for him to take as the rest of it was deep in his guts. But with the way Wakasa spasmed and attempted to fuck himself on the toy you swore he’d take the entire toy up his ass if you didn’t get him what he wanted.

First was the reluctant moan when you pulled the toy from him. Clenching walls around nothing now. Wakasa unable to stand it reached down without hesitation to stuff his two fingers inside himself. Quite the beautiful site as you sat back to load the toy up. Fingering himself with a level of desperation you hadn’t seen on him yet. Making you wonder how pathetic he was when he jerked off to those R rated pornos you snooped on his phone. And as Wakasa looked at you with a half lidded gaze and his fingers plunging inside his own guts with a cock leaking on his thighs. You set to slipping a couple of the jelly like eggs inside the toy. More than one round. You still could only fit a few in the toy as they slipped around with double the amount of lube after you poured so much over Wakasa just to fuck him.

Snug in their sheath you didn’t even have to tell him to move his hand. Repositioning the toy at his entrance. Wakasa relaxing instantly and you didn’t even push inside him yet. So when you waited a second. Until it forced him to try and focus on what you were doing. That’s when you pushed the loaded toy as deep as you could into him. Sliding in with no resistance. Right back up to the hilt like it was made for him. The inhuman noise ripped from Wakasa’s lips made you giggle.

“You want them laid in you?” You asked, fingers threatening around the base of the no longer hollow toy. One squeeze and the first egg would pop into him, “All my precious slimy eggs inside you~?”

“Yes-” Wakasa began nodding profusely. What strands of sanity he had after you surprised him with this toy were quickly slipping through his fingers. Wiggling, grinding and pushing down on the toy like he could will more of it in him. Finally his calm and cool composure cracking as the first little taste of your fingers tightening around the toy’s base and the first egg sliding inside him, “Yes! Yes please your eggs- Ma’am- fill me please- Fuck-”

Grinning ear to ear you squeezed the rest of the way. Assuring the first three where lodged inside him. Wakasa’s hips doing practical gymnastics as you slid the toy out of him slowly. Like a good boy as you refilled the toy he stuffed his fingers inside himself. Moaning like a whore as he ground himself down on his digits. Just as anticipated the second you put the toy to his entrance again. Pumping him full of a second load of eggs. You knew one of them would rest snug against his sweet spot. And such a sweet spot it was. Wakasa choked on his moans. Goosebumps pricking at every inch of his skin. Nipples begging to be tugged at. And a cock rock hard and pulsating. None of that mattered as it was more than just twice that you refilled the toy.

Up until the very last egg was squeezed into Wakasa’s overly sensitive insides. You could feel the resistance now of all of them wanting to come out of him. Keeping the toy inside him it made the most beautiful bump in his otherwise flat stomach. You giggled and managed to hold the toy inside of him to free up your other hand.

“Waka look...” You voice trailed off when your hand pressed the bump in his abdomen. Pathetic drooling whimper from the man under you. His eyes glossed over with pleasure. Words unable to be formed but precum kept leaking from his slit when you pressed down on his bulging belly, “My eggs look so nice in you....I wanna plug them up and never let them out of you....” Your touch ghosted over his hairy belly and smirked at his eyes fluttering shut when his cock twitched. Not even a fraction of an actual orgasm. Just from being this full and your lewd words had a meager amount of cum dribbling down his cock as more than just a little bit of the eggs pressed to his prostate, “Oh but how I desperately wanna see you push them all out too. On your knees....like a fucking whore.”

Pushing the toy inside him. Riling up the eggs that rolled around in his guts. Pressed at all the right spots and more. Wakasa was panting staring up at the ceiling when he rubbed his belly after you. Feeling the bulge you were admiring. It was big. But god how he wished it was bigger. Fuller. Teeming with eggs. He knew he’d love the evil you could do with this toy. 

“Next time I’ll plug you up,” You hummed happily as you watched his cock just about ready to burst it seemed, “Now, I wanna see you get up.”

“G-Get up?” Wakasa repeated your words not really sure he could.

“Get up.” You said sterner this time, “Get on your knees and push them all out. Each one. I wanna see you push all my eggs out pretty kitty...”

Groaning as Wakasa swore his limbs felt like they were made of lead. Your wish was his command and he wasn’t about to upset the person so lovingly pumping him full of eggs.

Careful as he did it. And with your help. The toy stay lodged inside him and not a single egg escaped prematurely. You rubbed his belly once more as Wakasa knelt above your lap. Staring down at his distended belly and raging hard cock sticking straight up regardless of his full belly.

“Wait-” You reached over and grabbed the container the eggs had been in before, “Mmm wanna catch all my pretty boy’s eggs after all.”

Maybe the wink you gave him. Or the utter disgusting nature of what he’d gotten himself into. Depraved be damn Wakasa didn’t care if it would be a mess. He was only thinking about being your incubator for the rest of his life now.

With encouragement and Wakasa’s hands on your shoulders to steady his wobbly legs. You slowly pushed the toy inside him a few more times. Met with resistance but mountains of pleasure as Wakasa inadvertently rutted his hips into the motion of the toy. Fucking himself best he could before without warning you pulled the literal plug on him. 

The utter disgusting gushing lewd noises that echoed in the room were the cherry on top. When Wakasa felt the slimy eggs pouring out of him. One by one. Thick in the middle as it passed through him. It felt all too weird and too good at once. And utterly neglected cock shot a healthy gush of cum up his abs. With the slow deflation of his belly as Wakasa doubled over you. Legs trembling. Moans ripped from his pretty lips. And the plop of each egg out of him caused the most spine tingling orgasm to take his breath away. Cum streaked across his now flat stomach as the last few eggs were pushed from his insides. The rest of his load dripped and drooled into the pail of eggs. Coated in every juice he had. Only complete when Wakasa realized all those eggs had been pressed against his bladder as well. And when he relaxed after his orgasm, he didn’t have any control of the golden stream. Accidentally pissing himself after all his muscles relaxed like one big sigh. Wakasa stared down at the jelly eggs coated in everything now getting a little gush of his piss on them. 

Utterly too fucked out of it all the man could do was slump into you. Comforted by your arms cradling him against your body. And your lips coming to kiss the sensitive skin right under his ear lobe.

“...don’t get too comfortable Waka.” You mumbled into his warm skin and gave him a playful nip of his ear lobe, “Those are reusable and I’m going to stuff them all back inside you. Plug you up and ride you until you’re crying under me.”

Wakasa couldn’t speak. Too in love with you and every word that left your mouth. He’d happily become your incubator for the rest of his life if this was the fun that awaited him.

[sunghoons-mole]

Angels & Demons (Teaser)

GENRE // college au, non-idol au, badboy!hyunjin x reader x goodboy!jeongin

WARNINGS // fluff, angst, eventual smut

it's going to be hard to focus this semester with the angel & devil on your shoulders...

~

The boy on your right caught your eye first.

He was cute, and quiet. His dark hair was perfectly placed, as if he had spent forever in the mirror this morning placing each strand on his forehead. His bag looked like it was ready to burst, most likely due to over-preparation for class. A phenomenal student, no doubt. Probably got excited to walk the back-to-school aisles when they popped up. A real goody two shoes type of boy... you always had an eye for those. Easier to take control of. Easier to corrupt.

You walked over to the empty seat on his left, dropping your bag and sitting as he began writing the assignment on the board in a notebook, even though it was the first day and class hadn't started yet. He might be good to get friendly with - for the nights you forget to do your homework. To make studying a little more exciting...

As if sensing your stare, he turned his head a little, his eyes meeting yours in the process. You put on your sweetest smile. "Hi. My name's yn."

His cheeks quickly became flushed, seemingly taken aback that a woman would introduce herself to him. He dropped his pencil to shake your hand. "Yang Jeongin. Nice to meet you."

The red never left his cheeks as he turned back to his notebook and continued copying the assignment. How adorable was he? This should be fun...

Just then, you heard someone clearing their throat to your left, and the chair screeching against the tile as it was dragged backward.

Yang Jeongin was a cutie, a real sweetheart. But the boy to your left was gorgeous. His hair was dark as well, but where Jeongin's hair was combed and cut, this guy's hair was shoulder length, wavy in all the right places and pulled into a half-ponytail in back. Where your new friend Jeongin's button-up and tennis shoes were straight and tidy and formal, this man wore a sleeveless black top and some shit-stomping boots.

Not that you were complaining, because his bare arms were making you feel things.

"This seat taken?" he said, not bothering to wait for your answer as he sat, leaning back and very clearly checking you out. He had no school bag, nothing with him except a sketchbook and a pair of earbuds that started in his ears and disappeared into his pocket. He winked at you, then pulled a pen out of the sketchbook's coil binding and began to draw.

"Hey. My name is-"

"Did I ask?" No one would have guessed he was checking you out seconds earlier, because his demeanor had already switched to careless, throwing words at you without even looking up from his sketch. You held your breath and turned to face forward, getting the message.

"Hwang Hyunjin," Jeongin whispered next to you. "Don't mind him."

Don't mind him. But oh, how you wanted to.

He was the boy out of any bad boy romance novel, and - having read plenty of those books - you knew where that would take you. But god, was it tempting as hell.

Casting a sideways glance, you tried to study Hyunjin's features without drawing his attention. The irony of how pretty he'd be as a sketch was almost comical, considering he probably had never tried to do a self portrait. Looking down at the page and seeing a rough outline of a girl, you wondered if you'd ever see the other pages in his sketchbook. Maybe he was sketching a girlfriend, and you'd never get to know anything more about this man.

Why did that make you want him more?

When high school ended 4 months ago, you wished that meant the end of school altogether. While all your friends were excited for college life, you dreaded having more school ahead of you.

But with the angel on your right shoulder and the devil on your left, maybe it would be more entertaining than you'd anticipated.

Your first semester of college was going to be... something.

[ghostofafruit]

DoctorRose Domestic Fluff Prompt: The two of them are in the library, the Doctor is reading a book aloud to Rose who is painting something.

Going with ninerose for this because dear god I fucking love them

They'd had a long day. The sort of long day that resulted in them donning their pajamas, heading to the library, and relaxing together. Sometime in their travels together, Rose had picked up art, specifically painting, though she liked drawing too. She'd never really considered herself an artistic person, but then she wanted to give it a try and the Doctor had some supplies on bored. She'd gotten pretty good pretty quick, like she had a natural talent for it. Painting was now her favourite hobby, and one of her faourite ways to relax.

Neither her or the Doctor, where all that surprised to find an easel already set up in the library when they got there. The Tardis liked Rose, and so it did it what it could to make her life just a little bit easier. She'd already grabbed her paints, and so as the Doctor looked through the shelves for a book to read, she got herself set up.

"Any requests Rose?" he asked. She grinned back at him.

"Charles Dickens, he was a nice man," she said.

"Rose, we've read all of his books already," the Doctor reminded her.

"Really? Damn, not up to re-reading them Doctor?" Rose asked.

"Considering we just finished them, no," he said. She sighed, but smiled at him none the less.

"Something romantic then?" she asked.

"As you wish," he agreed. He couldn't deny her twice in one night. If it was something romantic she desires then so be it. With a book in hand he settled back onto the sofa and started to read.

It was sort of hard to focus on reading the book aloud to Rose when she was stood in front of him in a crop top and shorts, so immersed in her painting. From what he could tell she was painting the landscape of the planet they had landed on. It appeared to be the area they had landed in too.

"You'e gone quiet," Rose murmured.

"Sorry, just admiring your painting," he half-lied. She turned to him with a grin. There were a few streaks of paint on her face, and he wasn't sure if it was that, the aforementioned grin, or her messy bun that made him think she looked adorable. She side stepped slightly so he could see it better. There were the basic blocks of colour on the bottom of the canvas and more detail the further up he looked.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"It looks brilliant," he said and she kept grinning at him. He was suddenly hit with the urge to kiss her. He didn't, of course, but he really wanted to. "Back to the story?"

"Yeah," she agreed, and she turned back to her painting.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.

Masterpost / AO3

14.

Another fucking draw. At least they’d actually scored in this one (Obisanya 26, Tartt 74), but what good was that when they let the other team net the ball just as many times? Jamie stared morosely at his Lynx collection, trying to muster the energy to change out of his kit. He was sweaty, his hair was a mess, and his side ached dully from a nasty tackle near the final whistle; taking a shower would be heaven. But he was too tired to move.

It wasn’t so much the game that left him exhausted, even though it sure took its physical toll. The past ten days had been a mad flurry of setting up surprise after surprise for Roy, and that had involved more gift hunting, eavesdropping and secret sneaking around than Jamie had ever thought he’d get up to. Between that and football and team Christmas bonding there’d barely been time for sleeping and eating.

And after all that, he still hadn’t called Mummy. He’d tried to, every single night, but he just. couldn’t. do. it. Apparently his efforts still weren’t up to scratch, which was baffling, to be honest: how fucking sad was Roy that not even the truly fanastic stuff Jamie had pulled for him had made him happy? Christmas was only days away, and Jamie was running out of both ideas and time. Could he get Sade to actually write Roy a song… ? Might be too much, though, even if he managed to figure out how to sort it. It’d give the bugger a heart attack or something, and that would make Keeley sad and probably not count as him doing a nice thing, even if it’d be dead unfair of the universe to blame him for Roy being a frail old man.

Perhaps he could invite Dani out for another brainstorming session; it had worked a treat last time. Jamie was pretty sure that Roy had appreciated his gifts and gestures, from what peeks he’d managed to sneak of the man. Just not appreciated them enough, apparently.

It also seemed like maybe Roy was getting a tiny bit suspicious. Yesterday, he’d kept turning his head every this way and that, and sometimes stopping dead in the street and whirling around, looking a little wild-eyed. At one point Jamie had had to dive behind a couple of large rubbish bins to avoid detection. That was a pair of perfectly ripped trousers he’d never wear again.

Fuck, but he wished that—

“Jamie, are you feeling well?”

Jamie turned to look at Sam, who had stopped by his cubby, already changed and with a concerned pinch to his kind face. He looked just slightly, slightly hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure if his question would yield an answer or something sharp and snide. Jamie made an effort to smile. “Yeah, bruv, I’m sound. Just, you know, tired of not winning.

“It is disappointing. But, thanks to you it was a draw instead of a loss. And it was a very nice goal too.”

At the praise, Jamie felt his smile grow easier, more sincere. It had been a very nice goal, hadn’t it? Good of Sam to notice. 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks mate. And yours were great too, you know?” he added, remembering what Dr. Sharon had said about how acknowledging other people’s accomplishments did not diminsh Jamie’s own.

The way Sam’s lips curled into a wide grin, mirroring Jamie’s own, and the way the sight of it made Jamie feel warm had him thinking she was onto something there.

“Thanks, Jamie,” Sam said simply, and gave him a friendly nod before walking back to his own cubby.

Still smiling, Jamie finally began to undress.

---

Once he was showered and changed and Ted had somehow talked them all into feeling determined and hopeful rather than dejected, Jamie hefted his bag and headed for the door. On his way out he passed by Keeley and Rebecca Welton, offering a smile to the former and a polite nod to the latter.

Keeley lit up when she saw him (and fuck, but that still did things to him, didn’t it?). “Hi, Jamie,” she said. “Listen, I was wondering if you could stop by my place tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you about some new tweaks to your brand, now that you’re playing again?”

Jamie perked right up at that. Talking to Keeley and discussing his brand? Fucking brilliant. Much better than spending another day trying to figure out what would possible make Roy Kent happy enough to appease the universe into letting Jamie call his mum.

He’d been working hard. He deserved a little break. Besides, hanging out with Keeley at her place might well yield some new Roy related ideas.

“Yeah, mint, yeah,” he said. Then a thought occurred to him and he frowned. “Or, actually, no, I can’t. The team’s doing a day trip Winchester Christmas Market after our recovery sessions. Sorry.”

He was, too. As much as he was growing to appreciate the lads and was looking forward to the trip, he’d rather spend some time with Keeley (and his brand was in sore need of some brushing up, ‘cause people were still being cunts and hung up about him walking out on City and Amy and stupid shit like that).

“Oh.” Keeley looked disappointed, which cheered him a little. “Tuesday?” she suggested.

“Sure, yeah. I mean, I’ve got training, but I could drop by after? Unless you wanna… “ He nodded towards her closed office door.

“No! I mean… No. There’s been… there’s an issue with the ventilation, yeah, it smells awful in there. Like dying animals and farts and baby vomit. Blegh. You don’t wanna go in there.”

Uh, yeah, no thank you, he sure as hell did not. Jamie made a face. “Yeah, all right,” he said. “I’ll just come by yours then?”

She nodded, looking relieved. “Great! Thank you, Jamie!”

“You’re all right.” He gave her another smile, Rebecca another nod (and noted that she for some reason seemed like she was struggling not to either roll her eyers or laugh, which was kind of rude, considering how hard Keeley worked for her and all, and she really should get Keeley’s office sorted), before heading out to his car.

So. Fun trip with the boys tomorrow – maybe he’d find something nice for Mummy and for Roy at the Christmas market – and then hanging out with Keeley the day after. So-so playing and his mummy issues aside, life wasn't so bad.

[countrymusiclover]

Ch 3 - The King’s Command

Part 4

Fire Of A Stark

@queenieala

Slamming the door to my chambers I screamed quickly tearing the dress off and throwing on a tunic and trousers. Grabbing one of the books from my table I launched it over my head feeling tears slipping out. It wasn’t bad enough that I had to hide who my real family house was. I also was about to be sent into marriage with a stranger. The Lannister’s were the richest house in the kingdom. But money and status didn’t mean anything to me. Someone knocked on the door making me wipe away tears seeing Sansa when I opened it. “Cadence, are you okay. Why are you crying?”

“Go away Sansa. You won’t understand.” I grumbled about closing the door in her face until she stopped it with her hand.

She stares at me with concern on her face. She closes the door behind her seeing that I had thrown multiple books and I had launched a kitchen knife into the wooden bed frame. “Did someone upset you? You normally don’t tear your room apart like this. Mother won’t like it.”

“My life is over Sansa. This isn’t over who stole the last cake or beat me in a sword match!” Spinning on my heels I threw my hands up starting to cry over the fate that was coming for me. She couldn’t possibly understand. She never has. “I’m forced to marry one of the Lannisters!”

She knitted her brows together, hands intertwined together in front of her. “Marriage doesn’t mean you’re life is over, sis. It means you get to have a husband and have his children-“

“And bend the knee to his every will. God, you are so naive. From the day we were born our future has been decided. All because we don’t have a cock. I’ll never be able to wield a sword, ride freely on horseback like a man or wear trousers if I so wish!”Running my fingers through my hair I yanked the knife out of the wood drawing it behind my head and launched it straight back into the wood even harder than before.

She jumped back slightly frightened seeing anger in my eyes. I usually had a temper about things but she had never seen me this angry. Then again none of the Stark children know my secret. It was easier if only very few knew the truth. “Do you wish me to get mother and father or do you wish to keep throwing that knife?”

“Just leave, Sansa. I want to be alone.” I mumbled throwing the knife cursing under my breath. “Seven hells!” By that point she had left so I snatched my brown cloak from the bed sneaking through the castle and to the stables. Saddling my horse I bolted out into the gods woods feeling the cold wind run through my hair. Reaching the family tree I dismount my horse sitting underneath it just letting the cold surround me.

About an hour later I heard another horse riding up to me so I lifted my head from my knee's sniffing where I saw father climbing down from his horse. “Sansa told me you were throwing knives like a mad man. Care to tell me what happened honey. Was it one of the royals here?”

“No…we’ll he isn’t here.” I wiped under my nose laying my head on his shoulder.

“Who is it then?” Father asked not following me.

Shifting my weight so I was facing him head on he scooted over looking down at me. He had the look that he had whenever any of his children got hurt. The comforting look of a father. “Tywin Lannister…I heard you and mother talking with the king a few hours ago. Saying that I am betrothed to marry one of his sons. I thought you said I wouldn’t marry until you found someone who is worthy of me?”

“Oh sweetheart you don’t have to worry. No deal has been set in stone. We are supposed to head to Kings Landing for me to become Hand of the King. But you won’t be married off not yet. I promise you little dragon.” He tucks hair behind my ear using the nickname that was specifically for me.

Wrapping my arms around him he hugs me gently into his chest. Then we got to our feet climbing back on our horses. “I love you, Ned - uh dad.”

He kisses my head, sending me up to my room. “I love you too.”

The next morning was pretty hush considering the king had asked my father to be his hand. Plus Sansa was fusing over her future wedding to the prince. I didn’t see what all the fuss was about. Pulling the hood of my cloak down I promised Arya that we would play with the swords near where the servants washed clothes. “So what is our first lesson?” The young girl asked me, almost bouncing off the walls.

“The first lesson is which one do you want?” Holding out two toy swords out to her she picked the smaller one. Getting in a fighting stance I raised my sword nodding towards her. “You go first.”

She ran forward crying but I raised my sword hitting hers almost out of her hands. Pushing her back I remembered a tip Robb had given me when we first trained together. “Don’t make a sound before you attack. That way your opponent doesn’t know you’re coming.”

I raised my sword holding it both in my hands then rushing forward to her but she raised hers hitting our swords together. Arya and I went back and forth like this for a few times until I spun my back to her and she accidentally tripped me with her weapon. She then pointed the tip to my throat, smiling bright. “Impressive young Stark girl. Did you teach her that?”

Wiping my head around I recognized the voice that broke through the gods' wood. Holding myself up on my elbows with my hair falling in front of my eyes. Honestly a tousled mess of curls at this moment. “Jaime, what in the realm are you doing out here. Nobody knows about this place except us?”

“I followed the tracks in the snow. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. Here let me help you.” He walked up to us wearing a tan tunic and trousers. Sword hanging from the holder on his hip. With his right hand extending down to me.

Eyeing his hand I grabbed his wrist allowing him to pull me up. But I scream tripping over my own sword at my feet falling into his chest. Jaime instantly secured his arms around my small waist holding me close to his chest. “Easy now. I’ve got you…”

“Uh thanks,” I croaked out, moving my eyes up to him slowly. I could feel his breath on my face and he was shivering a little under my touch obviously not built for the winters.

Jaime moved his head closer to whisper in my ear. “If we were alone I could have given you a private lesson. I can assure you, you wouldn’t regret it.” Bending my head down my cheeks turned as red as a tomato at his words not expecting him to say something here.

“Are you two going to kiss? Ewww!” Arya made a look of disgust causing me to finally come to my senses and push myself away from the lion.

Tucking hair behind my ear Jaime just smirked making me blush even redder. Kicking myself mentally in the head I told myself since I was nine that I wouldn’t fall for someone just by their looks. There should be more to a person than just that. “Cadence, Arya. There you are. Something’s happened.” I saw Jon Snow rushing our direction clearly pausing when he saw Jaime with us. “Ser Jaime…”

“Jon, hey you said there’s news. What about?” Snapping my fingers I pull him back to focus on me.

He shakes his head causing his black curls to shuffle around on his head. He was taken back, seeing us with a knight. “Bran…he fell from..the tower. And….the…the king…he wants to see all of us.”

“What could he want. Can’t we finish our lesson first?” Arya begged me with her hands clinging onto my tunic. I hated to tell the girl no but I took her hand in mine and the four of us headed back to the castle.

Entering one of the main rooms in the castle I saw the king and queen sitting on my father’s throne. My mother is standing beside Sansa and my father. Breaking through the crowd I whispered in his ear, completely confused. “Father, what is happening?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders, glancing over his shoulder to me.

Tonight was supposed to be our last night in Winterfell. Before my sisters and I followed our father to the city. So if the king of the seven kingdoms was requesting an audience it probably wasn’t good. Turning my head back towards the king, Jaime was now standing behind leaning against the wall. With his hand rested on his sword. “I thought it was best to be brought into the room that Lord Eddard Stark has accepted to become the Hand of the King. But that is not the only announcement I have. Tywin Lannister has requested that I renounce Ser Jaime of his kingsguard vows and I accepted-“

“Seven hells, you lied to me!” Shouting at my father with tears in my eyes I cut the king off not caring if it upset his grace.

The queen fought back as well, clearly not liking the sound of it for some reason to which I didn’t understand why yet. “You can’t do that. He took a vow and he can’t break it!”

“Be quiet, woman. I am the king and I have the power to do so.” Robert Baraethon raised his tone to his wife rising to his feet. Jaime wouldn’t or maybe couldn't look my direction I couldn’t exactly tell for sure. “Cadence Stark and Jaime Lannister will be wed in a few short days.”

Clutching the hand of the sword on my hip I felt tears slipping down my cheeks before I turned on my heels breaking for the doors hearing my father’s voice calling out for me. “Cadence!”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Hahaha, you’re good! 

So this is for the urban explorer au, right?

On with the fic!

--

Peter fiddled with the camera in his hands, maybe it might be better to use his phone for this, but then again, phones broke easier and they often didn’t have night vision. Plus, old school shit like this was so much more fun, gave his videos a whole Blair Witch or REC feel to ‘em.

He sighed as he got himself ready to go explore an old roadside hotel, one that clearly had been left to rot or blow away with the Mojave sand about fifty years ago. The old neon sign right off the road had a very dated look, and not in a retro way people were obsessed with nowadays. 

“Fuck, I hope this place doesn’t have vampires.” He muttered to himself as he patted at his belt, a few stakes were tucked into it, just in case.

Ever since he ran into that Lucian guy at the old office building, where the vampire had been camping out, Peter had been much more careful about the places he explored. Yes, he still filmed these places, still pretended he was hunting vampires or ghosts or whatever the fuck he said at the beginning of a video, but there was a real threat now, lurking behind corners in the shadows.

And he wasn’t sure if he’d get lucky with Lucian showing up again.

Though he really, really hoped.

He couldn’t stop thinking about that super hot, super mysterious man in the leather jacket. He was very pretty too and had an accent that almost seemed to mask a different accent, the more Peter listened to the recording from the office.

He still hadn’t posted that video, he wasn’t sure if it would be right to do so. Plus, the building caught on fire later that night, apparently he heard something about it happening from a lightning strike, but he wondered if Lucian had a hand in it. After all, it was the sight of a vampire nest, and it might be wise to destroy a nest so others wouldn’t take it and make a new one. 

Still, Peter was gonna keep doing what he was doing and hope that there wasn’t a nest waiting for him inside this place. 

But maybe a Lucian might be inside? Yes? 

Probably not, that’s wishful thinking.

Peter turned on his camera and started an intro on the fly, explaining the hotel’s history a little, because lots of these sorta videos did that, before he made his way inside. 

It smelled horrible here, like rotting wood and fabric, along with stale weed, probably teenagers hanging out here. Unless if vampires liked to partake. Peter spoke as he walked around, pointing out the things he saw, nearly screaming when he stepped on something crunchy, only to see it was a mummified bird. 

He walked around the hotel, chatting about this and that, even promoting his show, as he always did, before he actually did scream when something grabbed his shoulder. He turned around, free hand on a stake, only for his clip-on torch to shine on the face of-

“Lucian!?” He gasped, both from surprise and the terrible amount of dust and stale air in the building.

“I’m surprised you remember my name.” Lucian replied, looking bemused. “Looking for trouble again, Mr. Vincent.”

“Nnn- no, just, uh... just doin’ some... huntin’! Vampire huntin’!”

“With a camera.”

“And a little urban exploring.” Peter mumbled and shut off the camera, He looked at Lucian’s face and glared. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” The shorter man said, though he was smiling anyway. “You do know it isn’t exactly wise to make commentary when vampire hunting, yes? It will draw attention right to you.”

Peter made a series of noises before pouting. “The viewers like me talkin’ about the shit I’m filming. But I guess that’s how you heard me?”

“I heard you long before you entered the building. Pulling into the parking lot? Not a smart idea if there are vampires here, they’ll be very aware of you long before you’re aware of them.”

“Oh.”

Peter hadn’t even thought of that, shit, that... yeah, that was just asking for trouble. “Then how’d you get out here, it’s a bit of a distance from the city.”

“I drove, but parked a bit down the road.”

“Oh.” Peter repeated, remembering passing a truck that was parked off the side of the road while on his way here. “Fuck, you’re a professional, aren’t you?”

“In a way, I suppose you could say that. If you are looking for vampires, there are none here, I’ve already checked. It’s not really a safe place for them, not a lot of dark places that would do them well. There is a nest of very angry coyotes upstairs though.”

“Fuck.” Peter frowned. “I wasted a trip out here then.”

“Well, I’m sure your... viewers would still appreciate whatever video footage you’ve taken anyway.”

“I guess, could do a bit more explorin’ before I head out. Wanna explore with me?”

Lucian frowned. “Might not be wise, I should get going.”

“Come on! It’s fun! I’ll even keep you off-camera if you don’t want that!”

“I... guess.”

“Cool, let’s get back to work.” The actor started up his camera again. “Got a torch?”

“Ah.” Lucian blinked. “Oh, yes, uh, but the batteries died before I came to see what you were doing.”

“How’d you find me then?”

“You have your own, and you’re very loud.”

“Rude.” Peter smirked, then lifted the camera up to face him. “Sorry about that, just had a conversation with a guy who saved my ass a few weeks back. And no, I’m not postin’ that video, you don’t need to see me gettin’ knocked around by some... weird guy who wanted to bite me. Wasn’t a vampire!” He added on when he saw a look cross Lucian’s face.

“Anyway, back to business!”

--

Peter thinks that if he can run into Lucian again, maybe he might get him into his bed.

Not happening, Peter. At least not right now. Lucian is a classy man, he likes romance. 

[muness]

wilted flowers - chapter three (peter ballard story)

a/n: holy fuck, i haven’t been online for a looong time. i guess i was letting you breathe after stranger things part two!

summary; eddie is finally safe in amelia’s arms. but the girl is pretty convinced on who’s the murderer of chrissy. broken limbs, eyes pulled from inside, all of this sound pretty much like peter. the lovely and sweet orderly himself.

pairing; peter ballard x oc warnings; none! words count; 1,0K

------------------------ Sweet sweet souvenir

someday in hawkins lab, the memory of a little girl. I can perceive the light below the reinforced door but i know he will come and wake me up, so i wait patiently. as expected. the door opens on a lovely orderly, checking if i'm awake. he walks to me and softly shakes my shoulder as i growl. today, i really don't want to get up and leave my bed, even if this one is not very comfortable. the man in front of me chuckles when he hears my sound. he's used to my little morning comedy, as our routine has been going on for the past few years. he kneels to my head's level and moves the covers off of my eyes.

"-Wake up sleepyhead, you know you can't stay here, even if you want to. I would gladly let you sleep off the day, but your Papa won't be so happy about it."

I frown my eyebrows and pulls the covers down completely.

"-Hello Peter, sorry... -I don't mind, but be careful sleepyhead, Papa will search for you if you don't get quickly to the Rainbow Room." I nod and walks to the corridor, as Peter follows me. He's my angel guardian out here, i don't know how i would be if he wasn't here in the first place. maybe i would be Papa's perfect puppet, trusting every word, even the trickiest. but Peter always learned me that Papa doesn't always tell the truth, sometimes he lies. and lies are bad, very bad. bad people tell lies, good people doesn't. Peter told me that, and i trust Peter.

Everyone trusts Peter, he's the best orderly out here, he's so nice with us. i wish i could be as kind with others as him when i grow up. and he's pretty too. one day, I made a drawing of us and I portrayed him as an angel. because that's what he is, he's the vision of an angel i will always have. i look at him behind me, shyly smile and walk faster to the Rainbow Room, where all the other children are.

---------------------------

my vision is a bit blurry, as my memories bring him up again. everything in my mind turns to him when i shouldn't. maybe because little me, hurt and alone, would always forgive him, whatever it takes from me. because in my heart and in my head, i will always look up at him. i'm pretty sure Eddie realizes that my mind is somewhere else because he slowly shakes my head, trying to squeeze a reaction out of me. and it works because i jump and look at him. 

"-Ame, are you really okay?"

Ame. this is the surname he gave me when i told him my name for the first time. he told me it was easier that way, but when i tried to call him Ed, he slapped my head with his guitar. I mean, gently slapped it, he didn't want to hurt his sweetheart. when I say sweetheart, i mean his perfect, fabulous and talented guitar.

Ame means soul in french. i know it because Papa used to make us learn a lot of languages, and i'm also really smart. again, i'm not throwing myself flowers. i used to think i didn't have any soul, because of my powers. i'm an unnatural creation and i got used to it eventually. but Eddie came into my life and it has been his duty to make this thought disappear from my mind. I don't think he will ever succeed.

"-Ame? -Yes. Sorry, I'm just very worried about the situation, I really don't want you to go to jail for something you didn't do." I lied. "-Don't worry stupid girl, I will never. I will outsmart them. I take my examples from the best."

He winked with a big silly smile on his face, making me giggle and relax a little bit. He always says I'm the smartest person he ever met, not that i doubt that for any matter.The group decided to go find some food for Eddie, so I decided to stay with him, i can't let my best friend out here, all alone and scared. he tries to hide it but he is frighten. even if all this world isn't new to him, i didn't want him to witness it by himself. i didn't want him to witness anything, actually.

"-I'm so sorry, Eddie. For bringing you into this world. My world, and everything that follows. Chrissy, the girl... You seemed to care about her. I remember, you told me that she asked you to sell her drugs, and that it didn't seem like something girls like her would buy from a freak like you. I should have go with you both. Maybe I could have... -Use your powers ? What if it would have bring attention on you instead of her? Of course I cared for her, she was very kind and lovely. Chrissy was a good person. But I would let anyone die, if it let me save you. I'm nothing without you."

Tears slowly fill my eyes, but i can't let him see my emotions. "-Even your sweetheart?" I joke. He giggles and softly hit my arm. "-Yes, even my guitar Ame. Don't let your ego grow on you though, I will if it's an emergency case."

We laugh for a bit and look at eachother's eyes. i seriously don't know what i would do without this idiot in my life. 

suddently, as the door slams, Eddie's first reflex is to put his arm in front of me, to protect me from the foreign people. I look up at him with my eyes wide open, i guess he isn't kidding when he says he's ready to let anyone die for me. even himself. i'm not the one searched by the police here. 

But fortunately, it's only the group, coming back from their little excursion for food. Steve waves at us with a big smile and Eddie let out a big sigh of relief. 

"Delivery service!"

[hopefulstarfire]

Re: this post, which season/arc is your favourite?

Oooo oh God this one is a tough one.

Nostalgia wise, Battle City owns my heart. I grew up watching the Yami v Y Marik fight on repeat bc I had the DVD. It imprinted on me in a sense, I was not normal about Yugioh and this was the fight that got me hooked on it. Battle City is also just a really well developed arc as well, with some pretty key and amazing moments.

Manga wise, my favorite is the Millennium Enemy Arc! I'm a big D&D Nerd, so it just speaks to me. Also, it's the introduction of one of my all time favorite characters and it sets up so nicely for the final Arc of the series and let's everything come together so nicely and beautifully. Also it had the better Zorc design and I do not understand why we didn't just build off of that and why Takahashi went the fever dream route. I get he was sick but I feel like drawing that version of Zorc would still be easier than. You know. The dragon dick.

Now a days, I would say my favorite season or Arc of the anime...God it's tied between Waking the Dragons and Millennium World. The two seasons I desperately want remakes of in better animation because they deserved it goddammit.

The biker boys of Waking the Dragons are some of my favorite characters and it's absolutely due to my best friend Kohaku and her fic Come Together! We talk about the biker boys at least once a day. We love these idiots your honor. Also, the parallels between them and the main three boys, the actual thought and detail that went into the lore with Atlantis -- like they actually took from the stories of Atlantis that were written and it's super intriguing -- and also the struggles our main 3 boys have to face when having a mirror held in front of them and how they in turn reach out to the boys is just. It's perfection.

Millennium World, meanwhile, is Bakuras time to shine and that means everything to me. But I also love getting to see what the Pharaoh's life was before the Puzzle and the people he cared about and interacted with. The trust he had to place in Seto and the care he certainly had for Mahaad and Mana both. Also the gang being the ones out there searching for his name and Yugis internal struggle of if he can give up his one wish, then also having to quickly face that the reality where he and his other self are no longer sharing their paths together anymore is fucking heart-rending.

There are a couple things I wish did happen differently, i.e. Takahashis wish that he could have gone more in detail about Seto and Kisaras story but couldn't, understandably so, since he was in the hospital. And. Also. Bakura and the people of Kul Elna should have gotten actual fucking justice considering. You know. Victims of a genocide and the entire village sans him got turned into the fucking Millennium Items. But that's just me.

I have a lot of opinions about my man Bakura.

But thank you for asking!! I wanna hear yours too!!!

[flowermist7432]

I like to think Lonnie's personality is one of more favorite ocs i get to write a draw becauss its my favorite character type. LONG Ramblings below,, beware!!!

Lonnie is, to say...He's blunt, everything he says is exactly what he means! He'll happily say "nope!" To your face if he doesnt like what you are saying and keep doing whatever it is he's doing. However he isnt MEAN. He's just honest, although a bit long winded and choppy. Such as

"Im so TERRIBLY sorry my dear man, But i am in dire need your help to find my whereabouts of my location! Im verrrry lost! 8]c"

"Wowie, thats awwwfully rude! Bye bye!"

"Can I see your video playing device, of which i can use for photography means! This small insect on the table, and i wish to capture this brief moment!"

Like, sir you could have said that so much easier!!! But you didnt and thats perhaps very cool if you..

He doesnt facially emote that well and he knows it! All he does is a smiley look so he relys on the things he says and expressive tone or maybe even a crooked brow or squint. Drawing out certain words to bring emphasis on them! Sorta like Emmet, where he too repeats phrases..

If he doesnt like you he'll just say "i do not like you!" And walk away because he..does not like you!!! Being mean isnt his game!

But while people are guided by heart over mind or mind over heart, Lonnie leads with both mind and heart, because logically in his mind he deals with facts and rules he understands and then that alows his heart to do as it pleases!

Theres a point in my story where some very beat up, ripped apart scribbled on doll mocks him asking if he thinks he can just call her pretty and beautiful. She's clearly been scarred and hurt by the loss of her conventional attractiveness and now she's so tied to her own looks she's lost herself in such anger and pettyness! To which he says he doesnt think she's pretty, no. Because he doesnt think she is, but to him thats not insulting.

"No. I do not think you are pretty...!" And followed by a swift "But i do not think that matters. You deserve love and respect regardless of your looks, not in despite of them or because of them! Telling you that you are beautiful will not make you feel better, no... I think you want to hear that but its not what you need!"

People respecting their body regardless of their looks to him are more important than slapping on a simple "you are pretty" over a obviously deeper issue that needs to be confronted. And he sees that! He could easily say "noooo *i* think your pretty!" But it wouldnt have made her any happier since thats not the thing thats needs fixing!

Most of all, Lonnie cares, he isnt stupid. His dopey exterior makes him seem either sarcastic or aloof and dumb. But the truth is, he's incredibly observant and sweet. And logically goes about a situation and leads with his heart! Because in his mind, whats the point of being cynical and mean? It doesnt benefit anyone! He loves learning things, learning is half the fun of living! Lonnie doesnt understand smart people who blame smarts on their reasons for being rude and uppity. For him, he sees knowledge as a reason even more for him to be polite and accepting!And therefore i cant see myself writing him as anything but a relaxed, chilled joyus man with a fondness for discovery.

He reminds me of the lyric from play rehearsal "Most humans do one thing for all of their livesz the thought of that gives me hives!"

Lonnie is terrible at baking, they are edible and probably still tastey but not that presentable i suppose, but he learned it and hes having fun! All cosmetics doesnt matter much. He's a walking wikipedia, ask him about jars..he'll explain the ins and outs of a jar! What about a jar of pickles!!! Bugs! Chairs! How pencils are made now thats a good one! He'll go on and on! He'll happily read you a book the man has nothing better to do!!! He's my special boy and i love writing him dearly,,

[tigersharktheautisticseawing]

Wierd helluva boss AU I just thoguth of (it's consuming me)

Basically, everything is the same, very canon compliant, but during the fire Blitzø lost an eye, specifically the one on the scarred side of his face

Now, he would be less effective with guns, since from what I heard once you lose an eye your depth perception goes to fuck itself and I'm pretty sure it's important for shooting and aiming guns, but if I'm wrong correct me

Now, he could go either of 3 directions:

(my favorite) He wears a sick-ass eyepatch 24/7, only ever taking it off to wash his face. Even Loona doesn't know he's disabled in the eye department. Everyone just assumed he was doing it for the vibes. Now, the outing of his disability could go two routes in this scenario • The Stolitz route Basically goes kinda like Crooked, they argue a bit, Blitzø has low self worth, Stolas says something, and Blitzø goes "because this is who I am!" or some bullshit and pulls of his eyepatch, to reveal that there's nothing behind it • The IMP route Moxxie: Umm, Sir, why are you wearing that eyepatch all the time? wouldn't it be better for fighting if you took it off? Blitzø: Oh I WISH! *pulls of eyepatch to reveal empty eye socket* Moxxie: *shooketh*

2. Protethic eye

Basically, just an eye, to put in his eyesocket to make him seem normal.

In this case, it goes like this

Blitzø: *misses target* Goddamn it, this would be easier without my eye issues!

Moxxie: Sir, may I suggest some glasses?

Blitzø: Aprecciate the thought Moxxie, but this shit won't be fixed by glasses! *pulls out prostethic eye mid-battle*

Moxxie: What the fuck-

3. Just plain ol' empty eye socket

No covering it up. Nothing. Just empty eye.

That woud make for a fun scene i ep. 7 tho, so even though it's my least fav it's still a fun idea to consider

Also, consider:

If Stolas found out about his disability, he would definetely ask for a fully functional prostethic eye along with a crystal. Like, Oz already makes limb protethics, and really advanced ones at that, so he probably has some kind of working robo-eyes for astronomical prices on the factory tape.

And, smol bonus, if Ozzie gave Stolas that eye for Blitz, he would totally have the eye do cool-ass tricks, like change colors or see super good or like be contected to a database like in Iron Man.

That would definetely make Full Moon much more interesting, and maybe help Blitz understand what's going on, since Stolas just giving him the crystal could be understood as trying to get rid of him, but ordering him a custom fucking actually working prostethic eye?*Not so much

So yeah, do whatever you want with this AU, just wanted to get this man outta my system, may edit screenshots/draw him without that eye

Anyway bye bye!