#but the thought just came to me and I thought I ought to write it down

[seventh-fantasy]

remembering tonight "变得不适应因为它们原本来自江河大海 世上本不应该有池塘" (said by a monk character) and thinking about the sea being repeatedly suggested to be the place with the last traces of lxy - and llh - in this world

[sanguineterrain]

window pains | jason todd

Summary: He's got a habit of coming in through the window. You want him to start staying... and using the door. 

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: injured Jason Todd (he's okay dw), angst, pining, mentions of Jason's death.

A/N: sooo.... i guess i'm a dc girlie now. just a reminder that every character i write will always be 18+!!! this is probably canon divergent but we make our own canon.

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

the divider

"Can't you enter my apartment like a normal person?"

"You know who you're talking to, right?"

"You're getting blood on my carpet, Todd."

It doesn't really matter. He'll come back and scrub it out as soon as his ribs are whole. And fuck if he's not good at getting blood out of surfaces. Jason Todd ought to start a housekeeping column. 

You catch his limp as he climbs over the windowsill. It almost topples him, but he gets to the couch before it does. He doesn't make a sound. 

That had freaked you out the first few times he'd stumbled through your window. Once, he came with part of a windshield wiper impaled in his shoulder. He'd lain on your couch so still and so quiet, you'd thought Red Hood had croaked in your apartment. Which would not have been a good look for you. Or maybe it would. Depends on who you ask. 

Sometimes you want to tell him to make sounds. To hiss and grunt and complain. To grab your wrist so you'll slow down as you pull thread through flesh. 

But it's not your place to request such a thing. You don't know where you reside in Jason Todd's life, but it's not somewhere where you can request to hear him hurt. 

Outwardly, his injuries aren't bad-looking. He takes off his helmet and tosses it somewhere under the coffee table. You offer a hand to help him lie down on the couch—he doesn't take it. 

"Jesus Christ, Jay." You suck in a sharp breath and peel back his bloody suit. "What'd you do?"

"Took a midnight stroll in the Botanical Gardens. Why, what'd you do?"

You frown, eyebrows pinching in the center of your forehead. Jason's stomach is mottled with purple and red bruises. There's a sticky gash right above his hip. A knife. Or a sword, maybe. Apparently, swords are commonplace in Gotham. 

"How'd they get you?" you ask. 

It's a rule-break. Jason's number one policy: don't ask questions.

You always do. Even when it was new, this… thing between you two, you'd ask. Who were they? Why did they hurt you? Did you hurt them back?

The last one, you always know the answer to. 

"There were, like, ten of them," he says. "Cut me some slack, will ya?" 

He has a cut across his lips. A ringed finger that caught on his skin, you guess. You wonder if he'd wince if you kissed him. If he'd wince at the pain or the kiss itself. If you'd know the difference. 

Rage suddenly cuts through you. It makes your hands careless, cruel; you pull the bandage around his waist too tight. Jason coils up slightly. 

"Jesus—ever heard of bedside manner?" he asks, looking at you through his lashes. 

"Ever heard of not breaking into someone's apartment and making them patch you up?"

"I don't make you," Jason says easily. "You wouldn't do it if you didn't want to."

That only increases your rage. Because he's right. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You'd have kicked him out four first aid kits ago if you minded. 

You yank down his shirt and pack up the kit. Jason shifts on the couch. A sliver of skin above his waistband is still exposed. You have to turn your head to force your gaze away. 

"No bandaids?" he asks. "All my cuts'll be exposed to the elements."

"You can put them on yourself." 

His cheek could use one. And his eyebrow. You're not in the mood. 

Jason doesn't say anything in response to that. You get up to put the kit back under the sink. 

"Can I crash here?" 

"Do what you want," you say, suddenly exhausted. Like it's you who just went six rounds with Gotham's scumbags.

You peek over the kitchen counter when you hear rustling and the couch springs squeak. Jason leans heavily on the arm of the couch, reaching for the window. You walk over and stand in front of him. 

"What're you doing?" you ask. 

"You want me to go," he says flatly. "So I'm going."

"I didn't say that, I said—"

"I can read between the lines." 

"If you could read between the lines as well as you think you can, we wouldn't be in this situation," you say. 

"What situation?"

You turn your head. "Nothing."

Jason steps towards the window. You block him again. 

"What is the matter with you?" you ask. "You're injured. Lie down."

"I'm not your responsibility," he says, glaring. "I'm leaving."

"No, you're not. And since you're allergic to using the door, you don't have a choice."

Jason's eyebrow rises. "Are you saying you'd physically prevent me from leaving?"

You lift your chin. "If that's what it takes."

"Hm. Can't tell if your confidence is stupid or brave."

"Lie the fuck down, Todd."

His lip curls. "I don't stay where I'm not welcome."

Sometimes you forget how young he is. Not that you're not also young, but, well… you don't feel your youth as acutely as other people your age might. It's something you two have in common. 

Here, in the gritty glow of Gotham, you are reminded that Jason Todd died once. Before he finished school. Before he fell in love. 

Your stomach churns every time you see that Y-shaped scar on his torso, strapped over him like a chain. 

"I didn't say that you're not welcome," you say. 

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to."

He sags against the couch and it occurs to you that he's as exhausted as you feel. 

"Can you just—" You touch his bicep. He winces even though there's no injury there. "Can you just lie down?" 

You stare at each other for another minute. Slowly, Jason lays down. His eyes are alert instead of heavy with sleep. Instantly, you feel guilty for making him think he has to be cautious around you. His hand curls protectively over his stomach. 

"Do you want a blanket?" you ask. 

He squints. "It's August."

"I know, I… I thought maybe the blood loss made you cold." 

"'M fine. Perks of being risen from the dead." 

You watch him get settled for a minute. He shifts his weight to his uninjured side and meets your gaze. His eyes are gray in the weak light. 

"You're tired of me," he says. 

Your head snaps up. "No, I'm not."  

"You are."

"I'm not tired of you, Jay."

You see it. The fear. He thinks this is the last time you'll let him in. He doesn't know you can't lock him out. You won't. 

You get up and go to get the kit from the sink again. Jason follows your movement the whole time. His face scrunches in confusion when you sit in front of the couch and unzip the kit. 

You pull out the tiny red bandaids. You'd bought them as a joke, initially. It had made Jason laugh and that had been reason enough to keep buying them. And then he let you actually put them on.

You peel the adhesive off of one and gently stick it on his cheek. He blinks at you, thick, dark lashes kissing the corners of his eyes. 

"I'm not tired of you," you say softly. 

"I'd be tired of me." 

"You keep this city safe. How could I be tired of Gotham's defender?"

Jason scowls and turns his head into the cushion before you can put the second bandaid.  

"I'm not its defender. The others protect this city a hundred times better. Nightwing does it with a smile on his face."

"I like that you go out there even when it's hard, Jay," you say. 

He doesn't respond. You lean in, so close that you can count the freckles on his neck. 

"Can I finish putting the bandaids on?" you ask. 

"I don't need 'em."

"You do. You need another on your forehead."

"It'll heal fine without it."

Your shoulders bunch like a cat on defense. You grab his cheek (gently, always gently) and his head whips to yours in surprise. 

"Jason Todd, I am not tired of you. I'm tired of the fact that you only come by when you need fixing."

He scowls. "I never asked you to fix me. If you want me to leave, I'll leave."

"I don't want you to leave, I want you to stay!" you burst. 

Jason scoffs. "No, you don’t. I'll overstay my welcome real fast."

"Maybe I care about you on purpose!" you say, voice rising. "Maybe I didn't stumble through a window; maybe I walked through the door and bought the bandaids and learned how to stitch wounds because I wanted to."

He suddenly looks overcome by grief. The agony in his face startles you. 

"I don't know how to use the door anymore," he says quietly. "All I do is stumble through windows."

Your hand slips off of his cheek. Jason closes his eyes; they fly open when you stick the second bandaid above his eyebrow. 

"You can come in any way you want to," you say, face an inch away from his. "As long as you come back to me."

His gaze darts to your mouth. You don't kiss him hard. He breaks anyway.

You avoid the right side of his mouth entirely, not wanting to pull at his cut. Jason shudders into your mouth. You cup his pulse through his neck and it quickens.

His eyes are wet when you pull away. His chest heaves like he's been swinging through the city. 

"I wanna try to use the door," he says. 

You touch the bandaid on his cheek, humming. 

"Then I'll leave it unlocked." 

[justlemmeadoreyou]

hii babesss could you write something about harry fucking yn to ease her nerves/relax because she got home from work stressed and tired and needed a distraction? Love uu

summary: harry helps y/n relax after a stressful day.

words: 1.5k

warnings: SMUT! kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

Yn dragged herself through the front door, feeling completely drained after a long, arduous day at the office. Her briefcase slipped from her hand as she leaned back against the door, letting out an exhausted sigh.

"Rough day, love?" came Harry's concerned voice from the living room.

He appeared in the hallway, his warm green eyes instantly taking in her disheveled state. Without a word, he crossed over and enveloped her in a tender hug. Yn melted into his embrace, the tension already starting to leave her body.

"The worst," she mumbled into his chest. "I'm just so tired, Harry."

"I know, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "But you're home now. Let me take care of you."

He took her hand and led her to the couch, guiding her to sit down. Yn watched as he busied himself lighting some scented candles and dimming the lights.

"There, nice and relaxing," he said with a soft smile. "Why don't you put your feet up?"

Yn did as instructed, curling up on the couch as Harry grabbed a thick blanket from the ottoman.

"This ought to keep you cozy," he said, draping it over her legs. He sat down beside her and began to gently rub her shoulders. "Tell me about your day?"

As Yn recounted the never-ending meetings, the rude clients, the looming deadlines, she could feel the stress slowly melting away under Harry's soothing touch.

"You poor thing," he tsked sympathetically. "No wonder you're so tense. Let me run you a hot bath, that'll really help you unwind."

"Harry, you don't have to-" Yn started, but he cut her off with a fingers against her lips.

"Nonsense, it's no trouble at all," he said firmly. "You just rest here, I'll be back in a tick."

True to his word, Harry returned a few minutes later. "All ready for you, my dear," he declared. "I even put in those bath salts you like."

He helped Yn to her feet and into the bathroom, where the tub was filled with steaming water and fragrant bubbles. Candlelight flickered all around, casting a warm, calming glow.

"Harry…this is wonderful," Yn said, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you."

"Of course, anything for you," he replied warmly. "I'll leave you to relax, but shout if you need anything, alright?"

Alone in the bathroom, Yn slowly undressed and sank into the luxurious heat of the water with a blissful sigh. She closed her eyes and just…breathed, allowing the fragrant steam and soothing warmth to cocoon her utterly.

***

Some time later, Yn emerged from the bathroom, skin tingling and pink from the hot water. She felt worlds better, relaxed yet rejuvenated at the same time. Harry looked up from where he was reclining on the couch, a bright smile breaking over his face.

"There she is! Feeling better, my love?"

"Much better," Yn assured him, crossing over to join him on the couch and nestling into his side. "Thank you for taking such good care of me."

"Always," he said simply, dropping a kiss on her damp hair. "I just hate seeing you so stressed and tense. You work too hard, you know."

"I know," Yn said ruefully. "But I have to admit, after that bath and some quality time with my favorite person, I'm feeling infinitely more relaxed."

She tilted her face up toward his, eyes sparkling. "In fact, I think I could go for a bit more…relaxation," she added with a coy smile.

Harry grinned and pulled her closer. "Why, Mrs. Styles, are you flirting with me?"

"Mmm, maybe a little," Yn giggled, looping her arms around his neck. "Is that okay?"

"More than okay," he murmured huskily, capturing her lips in a slow, heated kiss.

As Harry deepened the kiss, Yn melted against him with a contented hum. This was what she had been wanting all day. To be in the arms of her loving husband, while he held her and kissed her like she deserved.

Harry's hands travelled underneath the oversized t-shirt, feeling the soft flesh of her chest against his fingers, caressing her nipples and swiping his fingers over the hardening bud.

Yn moaned into his mouth, and as soon as her mouth parted open, his tongue swiped against her plush lips, sliding in and licking her tongue. He trailed his hands down, feather-light touches on her stomach till he reached the waistband of the loose shorts, and pulled it loose.

Using the back as leverage, he used one hand against it to move himself on top of her, their lips never parting.

Only when Harry's hand slipped further down, inside her panties to feel her wetness oozing out, did she whimper into his mouth, and he broke the kiss to take a look at his beautiful, pretty and perfect wife, her hooded and lust-blown eyes telling him all he needed to know.

"What do you want, Yn?" he asked, keeping the eye contact as his fingers slipped between her pussy lips, feeling her soft, spongey but puffy clit and giving it a gentle roll between his fingers. She gasped, her lips swollen with their kisses just moments ago.

"I-I need-" she gasped once again, his hand circling around her tight hole, pushing just the tip of his finger in, teasing her.

"You need, hm?" he asked, and the next gasp she released was stolen with another kiss.

"Yes-Har-Harry, I-I need you"

She managed to sputter out, and as soon as she did, he slipped his wet finger in. Her walls clenched around him instantly, her thighs threatening to shut closed if it wasn't for Harry's thick ones between them. He pushed another in, swirling them around and curling them upwards just right to find her sweet g-spot.

"Oh fuck-yes-god yes, harry-" she pleaded, and Harry began kissing down her neck, her collarbones, the top of her breasts. He began fucking her with his fingers, two digits pistoning in and out of her in a pace that made her toes curl against the couch. She held onto his biceps, digging her nails in as he slid down the couch, getting on his knees in front of her.

Before she could protest, (not that she was going to), he darted out his tongue, and flicked it expertly aginst her clit, drawing out a moan from her. She used her other hand to grab his soft curls, and pulled at them softl.y

"Like that, baby?" he asked, and she nodded, biting her upper lip.

"So good, Har-don't stop"

Not that he was going to. He started to flick his tongue faster against her clit, his cold rings brushing against it each time he thrust his fingers fully in. He had kept them on on purpose, and he knew just how much the wet and cold sensation drove her wild.

His lips licked hers, before licking up her labia and sucking on her clit. Her grip on his hair tightened, and she whimpered once again, her back arching off the couch. Her legs couldn't stop themselves either, wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer to her core.

She felt the familiar sensation in her stomach, and she threw her head back. Harry licked, sucked and fucked with more frevor, using every ounce of strength in him to make his girl feel good.

Her breathing increased, her legs wrapping around him tighter as she gave his curls one final rough tug, before falling over the sweet edge, with Harry fucking her faster than ever, milking every ounce of orgasm from his pretty girl.

"Give it to me, yeah-that's it, good girl-"

He praised her, her orgasm riding out in the best way possible. Her breathing began going back to normal, her hold around his neck as well as in her hair loosening.

It was once she had fully relaxed around his fingers, that he pulled them out, licking them and cleaning them up like the sick bastard that he was. He wiped his dirty hands on his sweatpants, falling back on the couch beside her, his jaw aching from the work he had put in, but it was all worth it when he got to see her glow like that.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[indigovigilance]

Neil Gaiman's 3 cameos

"But Neil only has one cameo, it's in the movie theater!" Come now. What show are we watching? There is not just one cameo. There are three. The first one is...

The one that actually happened:

but then there is also...

The one that was supposed to happen, but didn't:

See those two people in the background? Lower left-hand corner of the screen? By rights, that should have been Neil and Terry, but Terry was taken from us too soon. Neil wrote this scene intending to do the cameo by himself, in honor of his friend, but on that day couldn't bring himself to do it:

Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it. [...] it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.

The fact that the scene exists at all, I think, can be taken as a cameo. I would interpret it as one of Neil's cameos, since he wrote it as a self-insert of an important aspect of his relationship to the work, but it is also Terry's cameo. Focusing on the empty space where something ought to be is itself a representation of what is missing; there is something to be said for drawing attention to absence, which is what our knowledge of how this scene came to be accomplishes.

There's no good way for me to transition to the next part of this meta other than to encourage you to take a deep breath and remember that Terry Pratchett has been immortalized by this and other works. He is beloved, and not forgotten, and lives on in our hearts, and we honor him by celebrating his works not only in mourning but in the full range of emotion that his works inspired in us, including laughter.

Because this next part is just silly.

Neil's AU Gary Stu cameo:

Neil Gaiman has told the story multiple times about how a careers advisor tried to redirect his life course from storytelling to... *shudder* accountancy. Here's one quote [source]:

Gaiman: I very much wanted to write comics. I remember as a kid, I was 15, and I had a meeting with an outside careers adviser. I was asked, “OK, well, what do you want to be?” And I said, “Well, I really want to write American comics.” There was a long pause, and then the outside careers adviser said, “Well, how do you go about doing that then?” I said, “You’re the careers adviser. You tell me.” And then there was another seriously long pause, and the adviser said, “Have you ever thought about accountancy?” I said, “No, I have never thought about accountancy.” And then we just sat and stared at each other.

We are all very lucky that teenager!Neil decided to completely disregard this advice, but Good Omens S1E2 contains a character that seems to resemble who Neil would have become (or thought he would have become) if he had let that careers advisor drag him into a life of bean-counting mundanity.

We may not see Neil's face in this scene, but we do get to experience his existential dread of the what if: what if I had never become a storyteller? What if I had listened to that wanker, and lived a life without following my dreams?

I'd say it counts as a cameo.

[yestrday]

sklfhjk i'm loving the little hc/lore posts you're doing about the different aus, i'm a huge sucker for those. may i ask about your hybrid venti thoughts?

well! how could i refuse! i love venti sm as my first ever 5* and i love writing him as my perverted lil boy. i havent written much for him in the hybrid au so!

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't dirty the young master with that perverted fondling of yours, old friend."

You laugh awkwardly as Zhongli's admonition only spurs Venti to snuggle even closer to you, sitting on your lap with his bare legs brushing against yours. He sends a sly smile towards the old dragon and revels in the way his gold-brown hands tighten on his teacup's handle.

"Hmm... you might not know since you came later than me, but me and our young master here have a ve~ry intimate relationship," the dove hybrid says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with smug look. "Why, you should've seen them when they were smaller, always begging and crying for me to hug them. It's only natural that we've become close— both physically and emotionally!— throughout the years."

Venti nuzzles his cheek against yours. "Aren't I right, ma~ster? ♡"

"Venti's right, Zhongli," you try to alleviate his concerns, though the disgusted look on his face grows more and more palpable. "This is natural for us. Although, uh." Your face reddens when you feel Venti's hand slip and take a feel on your tummy. "I... I have to admit that he's handsier tonight than usual."

Venti giggles. "Whatever are you talking about? You're way handsier with me when you're in bed~"

Your face almost explodes as the horrified expression on Zhongli's face grows. "Th– That! It's not what you think, Zhongli, I promise! Venti's just teasing me about how clingy I get when I asleep. Aether knows about it too. There's nothing else to it!" By the way Venti is laughing but not denying your words, your secretary can tell that you're telling the truth. Nevertheless, he schools you with a stern look.

"You ought to be more wary around us hybrids, [Your Name]. Especially around... this one." Venti pokes his tongue out at him and Zhongli only scoffs into his teacup. "You don't know how out of hand he was back in his days, and he's every bit as wily before as he is now. So keep your guard up and don't be seduced by him."

The subject of his admonitions gasps dramatically, turning to you with a can-you-believe-this-guy look on his face. "That's not true! You don't believe him, right, master? After all, I am the epitome of all things pure and innocent!" He places your hand on his bare thigh and looks up at you with those darling green eyes and ever so gently caresses your cheek.

"If there's anything perverted here, I think it's how you eat me up with those eyes of yours, ma~ster ♡."

Venti's delighted giggling erupts when you finally explode and hide your face in Venti's shoulder in shame. "Venti..!"

"Ahahaha! You're so easy to tease!"

Zhongli shakes his head, taking another sip to ease his nerves. He doesn't know whether or not he should report your corruption to your father and risk his wrath.

[my-castles-crumbling]

heart - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 410

(okay I asked someone who posted this idea a while back if I could write it and it finally came to me but now I forget who came up with the idea so just...know that this came from another tumblr post!)

Minerva McGonagall had known for years that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were meant to be together.

As a professor, she obviously did not take a vested interest in her students' private relationships. That would be unprofessional. But...this was a special case.

You see, Sirius Black possessed a special place in Minerva's heart that few other students did. She felt for the boy. For his upbringing, for the way he flinched when his parents were mentioned. And Remus Lupin? Well, every professor in the school secretly favored Remus.

So when she started observing the way the two boys actions around each other changed as they grew? The way they smiled so brightly at each other? She hoped. She hoped to see the two of them happy. If any two students deserved it, it was them.

But then, to her dismay, as the boys finished their fifth year, things changed between the two boys. She saw awkward looks and hurt glances. Wishful gazes behind turned backs.

But she was smart, and she realized that sometimes, romance, especially young love, needs a little bit of a push. Which is how she devised her plan.

"Separate detentions?" James Potter whined at her after the four sixth-years got caught jinxing the paintings in the dungeon to sing offensive songs.

"Yes," she replied, keeping her voice firm. "You and Mister Black need to be given a break from each other." It was the perfect excuse. The two boys were too much trouble for their own good, anyway. "Mister Potter and Mister Pettigrew, you will join Professor Slughorn tomorrow evening. Mister Black and Mister Lupin, you will be joining me."

She ignored the angry grumbles from the boys.

The next evening, of course, Back and Lupin were to meet her in her classroom, where she was meant to be waiting.

Except (oops!), she showed up an hour late. That ought to be plenty of time, she thought, for a heart-to-heart conversation without their friends listening in.

Purposely making as much noise as possible, she stomped around a bit before opening the classroom door, just in time to see the two boys pull apart, cheeks a bit pink.

Smiling to herself, she said, "Sorry, boys! I forgot I even planned for your detention this evening. Since you were good enough to wait, you may leave."

She pretended not to see how quickly they both ran from the room, hands laced together.

Albus owed her ten galleons.

[thefallennightmare]

Ménage à Trois-seven

*gif created by me(thefallennightmare). simply give credit if you use*

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ only please, swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: Bucky has a proposition for Reader, something involving Steve. This trio, however, never expected for their lives to change after that night the way it had.

A/N: holy moly this is a long one. enjoy!

Tags(open): @matisse030502 @buckystevelove @floral-recs @inlovewithametalarm @buckies-dolle @cjand10 @matchat3a @kamaria-sweet-writes @pono-pura-vida @miikayywhocares @kunaikunari @mousee555 @akmenia

The car ride was a thick quiet even with the crowded back seat. I sat next to Steve, who sat in the middle, and on the other side of him sat a well-dolled-up redhead with dark red lipstick, her eyes glancing over toward Steve occasionally. I did my best to keep my gaze out of the window, my mind filled with so much of what was about to come from Steve that I couldn’t focus on the surprise passenger.

Was this a good idea? Him becoming this super soldier? None of it made sense or sounded like the best idea, his best idea. If Bucky were here, he would slap Steve upside the back of the head; something I’d like to do right now, especially with the eyes that he and the redhead are making.

I swallowed the large, jealous lump in my throat because there was no need to feel that way. Steve was simply being nice to her, that I knew because Steve placed his hand on my left knee the second we sat down in the car's backseat. Neither of us expected a third party with us so we were both shocked when we saw the car pull up.

“Who’s that?” I asked Steve.

He sighed gently. “Peggy.”

The same Peggy that had been with him during his time at basic training. The same Peggy that had a hand in choosing him for this program.

I ought to wring her neck for that.

Steve assured me he had no feelings toward her but failed to mention how gorgeous she was.

“Hey.”

His soft voice brought my attention away from the window, and I responded with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you alright? I don’t think you’ve said one word since the car picked us up,” he mentioned.

I nodded while trying to smile at him. “I’m just nervous for you, that’s all.”

Steve brought my hand up to his lips and left a few pepper-soft kisses on the inside of my palm. “You don’t have to worry about me, doll. I’ll be fine.”

All I could do was ignore him, not wanting to give my brain an excuse to think of whatever this procedure was. So I thought of Bucky instead and what he was doing right at this moment. Who was he with? Was he thinking about them?

Was he even alive?

I squeezed my eyes shut tight to force that thought out of my mind. Bucky had promised me in his most recent letter not to dwell on that thought. If I did, it would make things difficult for me when all he wanted was for me to keep a smile on my face.

“I got beat up in that alley,” Steve’s finger pointed in front of my face. “In that parking lot. And behind that diner.”

With a quick follow of his finger, my heart pinched at the memory he had spoken of. Steve got beat up in the alley we had passed and thankfully, Bucky had found him before he became worse for wear.

Peggy blinked. “Did you have something against running away?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, not liking the difference in the tone of her voice.

“If you run away, they’ll never stop.”

Steve looked down at his hands so I reached for them, covering them with my own. It was the talk of that town that he was always standing up against the bigger guys, and bullies, and he would never back down. If he didn’t fight for the smaller guys, who would?

The car came to a sudden halt, and I peered through the window, confusion etched into my eyebrows.

“What are we doing at an antique shop?” I questioned.

Peggy simply motioned for us to follow her out of the car and when we were on the busy street, my eyes took in the two bodies that leaned up against the car behind us, one of the man’s fedora hats pulled low over his eyes while the other had his hat pressed against his chest. When their eyes met mine, goosebumps pricked over my skin and fear filled me. Something about these guys didn’t sit right we me.

“Steve,” I laced our fingers together to pull him to a stop. “Are we safe?”

He left a soft kiss on my cheek and some of the fear slipped away. “I promise we are. We need to trust Peggy. She wouldn’t steer us directly into danger.”

I scoffed. “Trust her? I met her an hour ago.”

“Y/N,” Steve sighed. “Can you please do this for me?”

It was my turn to let out a sigh. Even though I had a bad feeling about the entire thing, I gave him a curt nod before allowing him to drag me inside the antique shop. At the sound of the bell ringing above the door, an older lady with sandy white hair stepped through a curtain.

“Wonderful weather this morning, isn’t it?” She said.

Peggy nodded. “Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.”

Before I could even wonder why they were talking about the weather, the older lady stepped to the side of the three of us to walk through the previous curtain she had walked through. It was only a few steps until we came to a stop in front of a bookshelf.

“I’ve got a bad feeling” I muttered mostly to myself.

Steve, however, gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

My shoulders jumped at the sound of something unlocking, and the bookcase in front of us slowly opened. Peggy didn’t bother to look at us, only kept her gaze forward as she walked down this short hallway. I took in the few people wearing lab coats, and we walked passed a table that someone was sitting behind; she gave us a small smile. She, along with a few others, was wearing almost exactly what Steve was wearing.

Steve was dressed up in his army uniform which meant that wherever we headed was some kind of hidden military base. Why was it hidden? What were they so afraid of others finding?

The doors in front of us opened, and we stepped out onto a balcony, the peeling green railing was there for me to grasp as I stared down at the many more bodies below. As the sound of us, all of their movements halted and stared up at us.

A small gasp fell from my lips. “Is that Howard Stark?!”

Peggy cleared her throat, annoyed at my sudden enthusiasm. “Yes. We’ll be using his technology for this procedure.”

I continued to stare at the billionaire that stood out in the middle of the scientists and it wasn’t until Steve pulled me along that we descended the steps. An older man with balding grey hair and round glasses perched high on his nose closed the distance between us with an extended hand toward Steve.

Steve’s hand dropped mine, and I frowned at the sudden loss of warmth.

“Good morning,” the man smiled.

A bright flash blinded us and after I blinked a few times, I noticed a photographer in the room had taken a picture of Steve and the man.

Steve turned towards me. “Y/N, I’d like you to meet Dr. Erskine.”

My jaw slacked slightly. This was the man that offered Steve this baffling opportunity? This was the man that was changing Steve, my Steve, the one that I had fallen in love with. Into some kind of super soldier? What would this mean for him IF it had worked?

“Ah,” Erskine smiled brightly. “Mr. Rogers talked a lot about you during his time at camp.”

I shifted on my feet, nervous. “Good things, I hope.”

He nodded. “Only the best. You seem to have quite the hold on him.”

If it was any other time or place, my heart would have swelled at the words but now as I stared at the contraption in the middle of the room there was only one thing on my mind.

“What is that?”

It looked like some kind of torture chamber, somewhere for Steve to lie in and get god knows what done to him.

Dr. Erskine sensed my doubt and came up next to me as I walked around the chamber-like bed.

“Mr. Rogers will step inside where we will close him in and administer the serum,” he explained.

My feet froze, locking eyes with the doctor. “Steve’s claustrophobic, he won’t step inside this thing.”

“Doll,” Steve began.

“Have you tested this serum?” I asked with my arms crossed over my chest.

“No, not recently,” Dr. Erskine admitted.

My eyes bulged. “Not recently? So what you’re saying is you do not know if this serum could kill Steve?”

He nodded, and I groaned while giving Steve my attention. “You want to do this?”

It was Steve who nodded now before grasping my hands and pulled me into him. My eyes peered down at him, only slightly, because the heels of my shoes had given me an extra half inch on him. With his small stature, I thought for sure Steve wouldn’t like it if I was taller than him but he never minded. He loved the way the straps of my heels wrapped around the soft skin of my ankles.

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingered on the nape of my neck.

“You’re not going to change my mind, Y/N. I’m doing this.”

I let out a shaky breath and reluctantly nodded. “Bucky is going to kill you once he finds out. You know that right? Then he will kill me for allowing you to do this.”

That caused Steve to chuckle low. “I think we both know that Bucky wouldn’t ever lay a finger on you like that because of something I did.”

I blinked, my eyes burning with tears. “There’s a chance I lost him. I can’t lose you.”

My words had trailed off with the rush of wet tears slipping over the skin of my cheek but Steve was quick to wipe them away. He hushed my cries with his soft lips to mine in a short but passionate kiss.

“We didn’t lose him. It’s Bucky we’re talking about. He doesn’t give up easily,” Steve reassured me. “And you will not lose me. I will be fine. If I didn’t trust Dr. Erskine, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

All I could do was nod, broken eyes gazing at our feet. Even with his words, Steve couldn’t ease my racing heart. Every vein in my body pulsed with fear; the fear of if this would work and the fear of being alone. Steve’s finger lifted my chin, and we shared another kiss, this time more deeply and I wrapped my arms around his back, reeling him into me. Our chests caved into each other and I could almost feel the beating of his own heart against mine.

Someone cleared their throat which caused Steve to pull away. Peggy was staring at us with an annoyed glint in her eyes.

“Are you ready, Steve?”

He nodded.

“Good. Take off your shirt, your tie, and your hat,” Dr. Erskin said.

Steve did as he was told and when he stood shirtless in front of me, I took in every inch of his skin, ingraining this picture into the confines of my mind in case somehow this procedure didn’t work and it would be the last time I would see Steve.

His hair was messy thanks to his hat and a few strands were falling into his eyes, the bright blueness of them shining back at me. Under the skinny and frail skin of his chest, I watched it rise and fall with each breath he took. The freckles that peppered his skin caught the light from overhead as he laid back down on the bed. I reached for his hand, bringing it to my lips.

“I still don’t feel good about this.”

Dr. Erskine smiled. “Mr. Stark, how are our levels?”

My heart jumped in my throat as the billionaire slinked up beside me, flashing me a bright teethed smile from underneath his mustache. “Levels are one hundred percent. Good.”

He then shrugged down at Steve. “We might dim half the lights of Brooklyn but we are ready, As well ever bed.”

I didn’t miss the way Howard Stark shifted on his feet, unsure of his own words.

With a quick kiss on Steve’s forehead, I cupped his cheek, “I’ll see you soon.”

Steve nodded but even though he was being strong for me, I knew deep down he was afraid. I could feel the way his face shook inside of my hand.

I gave my best smile and followed Dr. Erskine’s orders to go sit upstairs in the viewing deck, alongside Peggy and other men in suits that seemed to fill the room quickly. There was one seat left in the front row, directly in front of the large window that peered down at Steve. I slid into the chair before Peggy even had the chance to glance at it, not bothering to say hello to any of the men. My knee bounced as I bit my nails, nervously. All I could think about was Bucky and how he’d react once he found out about Steve.

Would he be upset like I was? Or would he become aroused at the new Steve?

That thought had just now appeared in my thoughts. Steve said the serum would change his appearance as well, how we didn’t know. We wouldn’t until it was over.

I grimaced as a loud feedback sound from a microphone pierced loudly in my ear. Dr. Erskine was tapping his finger on a microphone, his voice echoing around us in the booth.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Today we don’t take another step towards annihilation but the first step on the path to peace.”

This is what they wanted to use Steve for. As a way for peace?

I scoffed loudly, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Peggy who sat behind me.

Dr. Erskine continued as a large metal tub wheeled in next to Steve. “We begin with a series of microinjections into the subject’s main muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change.”

Nurses around Steve pulled six blue vials out from the metal tub and hooked them up to the chamber he was lying on.

“And then to stimulate growth.” Dr. Erskine’s voice began again. “The subject will be saturated with Vita Rays.”

With his hand on Steve’s shoulder, he began a countdown showing the procedure was about to begin. My heart pounded so hard against its cage in my chest that I could barely breathe, my throat closing in on itself. I felt dizzy as the whole room spun, so I gripped the sides of my chair tightly to hold me down in place. The chamber rose to a parallel position, the three sides of it closing over Steve, not before they had injected the serum into Steve.

Dr. Erskine knocked on the door. “Steven. Can you hear me?”

“How’s Y/N? Is she doing alright?”

All eyes from the view booth stared at me and I slunk back into my chair, a hue of red creeping over my skin. Even when Steve should only worry about himself, he couldn’t stop thinking of me.

Dr. Erskine looked up at me and I gave him a thumbs up, showing I was alright, given the circumstances.

As they proceeded, the building rumbled low and a bright light coming from the chamber blinded us up here.

“Vitals are normal,” one doctor said.

The higher Howard Stark raised the pressure of the Vita Rays, the brighter the light shined and it wasn’t until I heard Steve’s scream that I raised to my feet, running back onto the balcony. Peggy’s voice called from behind me, trying to halt my movements.

“Turn it off!” I yelled down at them.

Dr. Erskine was pounding on the face of the chamber, yelling Steve’s name repeatedly.

“Turn it off!” I bellowed once more, tears pricking my eyes.

He turned on his heels, ready to do as I asked until Steve’s voice echoed. “NO! I CAN DO THIS!”

“Steve,” I cried. “Please.”

I fell to my knees, resting my forehead on the cool metal of the railing as Howard Starks voice called out that they reached one hundred percent. The surrounding electricity buzzed and hummed as the light inside the chamber pierced my eyes. Sparks shot off from all the technology in the room until suddenly, the power of the chamber cooled to a quiet hum.

Slowly, I rose to my feet as everything around me quieted down.

“Is he alright?” I asked Peggy.

She stared at me with uncertainty and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

My feet raced down the stairs and I yanked my arm away from a guard who tried to stop me. Dr. Erskine held up a hand, saying it was alright.

“Steve?” My voice quaked with worry.

Suddenly, the doors of the chamber opened, and I feared the worst, Steve’s mangled and contorted body waiting to fall into a heap on the ground.

Only it didn’t. The man inside was still Steve but different. His muscles had doubled and the definition of his abs was the first thing that caught my attention. He was breathing heavily, eyes closed, and it was when he fell that Dr. Erskine caught him that Steve awoke. His eyes fluttered open, gazing around the room. Howard Stark was on the other side of him and by now everyone in the view deck had filled into the main area, astonished that it had worked.

The noise of the happy chatter was muted in my ears as I continued to stare at Steve, unable to move because yes it may have looked like him but was he still my Steve?

It was my name falling from his lips that had snapped me from my frozen state.

“Where’s Y/N?”

Dr. Erskine found me among a flood of people and reached for my hand, dragging me closer to Steve. Now, even with my heels, he had towered over me by at least a foot. His chest look larger now close up and I raised my hand to touch it but reeled back, unsure.

“Doll,” Steve cooed. “Are you alright?”

His eyes didn’t miss the way mine were wet with tears. His hand reached for me but I took a step back.

“How do I know you’re Steve and not some kind of monster?”

Steve flinched but composed himself quickly. “I met you when you were 16 when you first started dating Bucky.”

I raised a brow, still not convinced. “So? Anyone could know that?”

He chuckled. “Under that black dress you’re wearing that skimpy-.”

My hand clamped over Steve’s mouth, hushing his words instantly. I didn’t need everyone in the room to know what color underwear I had worn today.

“Shhh!” I hissed, eyes boring into him.

Even if his body had changed, those eyes were still the same bright blue I remembered.

“I can’t believe it worked,” I admitted with a long breath.

My hand traced over the skin of his chest and stomach, his hard muscles tensing under my touch. I swallowed a moan and pressed my legs together.

Steve cupped my cheek. “I told you it would.”

I ignored his always-right attitude. “How do you feel?”

“Taller,” he smirked.

Even with everyone around us, congratulating one another, it felt as if Steve and I were the only two in the room thinking the same thing. We needed to feel each other, Steve in his new body, as soon as possible.

Suddenly, a loud boom echoed around us, and glass fell on top of us like rain. Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulder and threw me to the ground, himself protecting me from whatever had blown up. Once the ringing in our ears stopped for a moment, Steve looked me all over.

“Are you alright?”

I nodded, lips parted to speak until two distinct gunshots muffled Dr. Erskine's words. I watched in horror as his body fell to the ground, Steve running over to his side. He poked Steve in the chest twice, the silent action being enough for Steve to understand.

He looked over at me. “Stay here.”

Before I could even protest, Steve ran after the mystery shooter leaving me among the chaos.

[devildom-moss]

For requests maybe some Satan x Gn!Mc NSFW. Maybe Mc wants to try out some like Primal Prey type dynamic stuff but Satan is worried about hurting them. Maybe some like fluff almost like comfort stuff where Mc reassures Satan that they trust him? You write him so well, thank you so much and have a great day!

Sorry this one took so long, anon. But I hope you'll like what I came up with. Thank you for the request, and I'm glad you like how I write Satan. Hopefully, this one will not disappoint because this is a whole new side of Satan and I had a lot of fun with it. I don't write a lot of sub! or bottom!MC - but especially the former, but oh boy.. I did not think I would appreciate dom!top!Satan as much as I do right now.

Primal Play with Satan

(Satan x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (dom!Satan) (sub!MC) (NSFW tags: bottom!MC, primal play, outdoor sex, growling, biting, scratching, marking, hunter/hunted, predator/prey, demon form Satan, edgeplay - a little bit, oral - receiving, mild degradation and name calling including affectionate slut shaming/use of the terms "slut" and "whore," mentions of breeding regardless of whether that's physically possible, no condom, no lube bad do not recommend, creampie, aftercare) (other tags: fluff, reverse comfort, lots of plot)

Word Count: +3,600

You and Satan were sitting in his room, reading into the night. You were laying in Satan’s bed with a collection of short mysteries that he had recommended. Satan was sat in his armchair with a book of poems; his reading glasses had begun to slip down the bridge of his nose, but he paid it no mind. A low, shaky breath left him, and he called out to you, “MC, come here for a minute. I want to read this one for you.”

“Alright, just a second,” you replied calmly while you finished the paragraph you were reading. You placed a bookmark in and joined Satan.

He pat his thigh, motioning you to sit, and once he had you in his grasp, his chin came to rest on your shoulder. There was something about the way his long fingers curled around the book, plunged between pages to mark his place as he focused on getting you comfortable, that dried your throat and made your thoughts wander. When he opened the page, there was a short block poem next to a painting of a pomegranate in a muted pink with purple undertones.

Satan dropped into a sultry voice as he read – his breath tickling your neck slightly:

“I want to stain your skin

like pomegranate,

dripping honey and vanilla,

soft on your lips,

along your thighs.”

Satan’s free hand caressed up your thigh as he continued to read:

“Candlelight casts shadows,

grand and trembling

on your walls.

When I bite down on your shoulder,”

You half expected to feel his teeth against your skin. The second of tension was spent bracing yourself, hopefully, but it was quickly eased – or rather, unrewarded – when he fell to the next line.

“I catch your back

in the vanity mirror,

blood bespeckling scratches

down

your

spine. Flush against

black silk,

I hold you on my tongue”

Heat overwhelmed you; you wanted his tongue on you so urgently that you began to squirm in his lap, feeling him harden slightly. He was doing this on purpose. Satan held his tongue, letting the short space between lines build anticipation. He inched closer, almost kissing behind your ear, then whispered, “and wait for you to burst.”

You turned to stare at him. Those bright green eyes stared back at you – somehow feeling as if they ought to be a cold shade of green. You felt frozen there.

Satan set his book down atop a large, only semi-precarious tower of books so he could get both of his hands on your body. Certainly, Satan wasn’t the largest demon – he wasn’t even the largest in the household. However, when he took you in his arms, you felt engulfed – if not physically, then by his presence alone. One of his hands slowly ran up the front of your neck, guiding your gaze up to his ceiling.

“Let me make love to you,” he purred against your shoulder.

“Actually,” you hesitated, “there’s something I want to try.”

You got up and straddled his lap, facing him completely, before you told him that you wanted to try primal play with him. In truth, he wasn’t quite sure what you were asking of him. He had an inkling but couldn’t form a clear thought about it in his mind.

You brought up that werewolf story he had read recently – the one with that spicy scene where the love interest stalked the main character through the forest until inevitably, the mc was in the wolf’s grasp, and then “. . .you know the rest.”

Satan blushed. Sometimes he forgot that he lent some of his adult romance and erotica to you after he finished reading it. Don’t get me wrong, he loved that you were both comfortable enough to essentially share porn with each other, but the thought that you remembered it a few weeks later embarrassed him.

Unfortunately, all he could think about was your poor knees on a rough forest floor or how hard he might thrust into you or grab you with all that adrenaline in his system. What if you stayed out of his grasp for too long and he got frustrated – and what if he turned that mild anger against you? He couldn’t stand the thought of harming your precious body. Despite all of Satan’s rage, he only wanted to make you feel comfortable and good. Moreover, he didn’t trust himself to get into such an intense and violent mindset.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Satan’s grip on you softened, and he sounded apologetic.

“Oh.” Your shoulders slumped immediately. You didn’t expect him to reject your suggestion so quickly. Usually, he would give your ideas more consideration – or at least ask a few more questions. “Is it a hard no?”

“Please don’t look so sad.” You were going to break his heart. “I just don’t want you to get hurt – rather, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why would you hurt me?”

“With all the adrenaline, I don’t know if I could hold myself back. What if I push you too far and you get hurt?”

“Satan, when’s the last time you seriously hurt me?”

“I don’t know.” He paused to think. “Did I hurt you when we first met?”

“My sweet boy,” you smiled and caressed his cheek, “you have never inflicted any serious harm to me – especially on purpose. And you rarely hurt me at all on accident. You’re so gentle with me. I just want to see a different side of you.”

“That side is a monster. I’m a demon of wrath. Why would you want that?”

“Because it’s still you.” You held his face in both of your hands. “I trust you.”

“Why? That’s such a risk.” The confusion on his face was heartbreaking. No one had ever trusted him to control himself so much. Your faith in him was almost a burden, but he wanted to carry it. He wanted it so badly; he was just terrified.

“Because I love you.” It was the perfect justification, and he responded by kissing you roughly.

“Why do you always know what to say?”

“Coping mechanism,” you joked.

“If we do this,” Satan spoke sternly, “you promise you’ll tell me the moment you’re uncomfortable? Stoplight system? If anything goes wrong, you’ll use your pact to stop me, right?”

“Yes, but I won’t need to.” Satan bit his lip. You were so trusting – too trusting. He didn’t want you showing such a vulnerable side to anyone else. He nipped your ear gently. A soft purr vibrated against you.

“Should we try it now?” Satan checked the nearby clock. “It’s late. I don’t think anyone else is up. I could take you out back and release you into the garden. The moonlight is beautiful tonight, and it’s not too cold, either.”

“Yes, yes, it’s a romantic night,” you rubbed your thumbs over his cheeks, “but that’s not the mood I’m going for.”

“I know. Just give me a few seconds to be romantic before we start.” Satan stared at you affectionately. If you trusted him, he trusted you. Peace and resolve came over him just by looking at you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Satan snuck you down to the garden, hand in his. You felt like young lovers running away into the night. Once outside, Satan shifted into his demon form, growling into your ear and blowing extra-hot breath onto your neck. His heat contrasted with the cool Devildom air – so drastic that it made you shudder. His tail gently wrapped around your ankle, touching you so slightly that he couldn’t hurt you – so long as you stayed perfectly still, at least.

“Be careful not to trip, love. You’ve got 5 minutes to run and hide. And then, I will find you.” His hand wrapped around your upper arm, each finger slowly curling over your skin, one at a time. You could feel the fear rising in your chest – your breath catching in your throat. Satan ran his long, sharp tongue up your neck slowly. His voice dropped and he whispered, “run.”

You were freed from his touch immediately. The fear almost stalled your feet, but you ran off towards the rows of hedges, trying to locate a clear entrance to the forest. Your bare feet hit the hard paved paths. Maybe you should have put shoes on before you left, but it was too late now. You spotted a row of floral arches and ducked into it. The moonlight shined on the flowers in the garden, especially the roses, almost making them appear to glow. Maybe you should try outdoor sex another time – a much sweeter version of it. Right now, however, you could see a path into the forest.

You had barely reached the tree lines when a loud rush of air sounded with a flash of light. Satan had blown a puff of fire towards the sky to signal that your time was up. You could see it dissipate over the hedges. He was coming.

Finally, you understood those nightmarish scenes in which the branches of trees appeared as angry, violent limbs. You found your previous speed impossible as you tried to navigate the woods silently. If you broke any branches or rustled too many leaves, he’d hear you. Satan, on the other hand, was able to make as much noise as he wanted. You heard him move through the brush. What you assumed was the sound of him jumping down from the fallen tree signaled that he was gaining on you. If you kept running, he’d catch up to you soon. You’d have to do the near-impossible and outsmart him.

You hid behind one of the large trees just off a vaguely formed path. Less than a minute passed before you heard Satan stalking through, mere feet away from you. His breath was shallow – only slightly exhausted from the chase. He let out a low chuckle. “I can hear you panting, dear.”

He knew you were nearby. You covered your mouth to stifle the noise. Both hands were clasped over your lips, trembling. Your eyes turned to the sky; it was all you could do to calm yourself and steady your breath as your lungs seemed to burn. Satan growled and his steps began to fade. Unable to risk him doubling back, you immediately rushed into the opposite direction.

If you had just waited another minute or two, you might have prolonged the chase, but your impatience would be punished. You were too early, and Satan heard your movement, giving prompt chase. He closed in on you. Your time had run up.

“Found you,” Satan mused, pushing you roughly against a nearby tree the second you fell into his grasp. He forced your face against the bark, pressing shallow indents into your skin. A breathy chuckle crawled down your neck, where Satan sank his teeth. One hand was locked over your shoulder, pulling you close, while his other hand was groping your ass. From behind, he forced his hand between your thighs and rubbed over your clothes. He chuckled again. “You must really want this. I can smell your arousal already.”

“N-no,” you denied it. He could have been lying about smelling you – you weren’t sure how much better his senses were, but you hoped it wasn’t true. Hearing him say it aloud was embarrassing.

The tip of Satan’s tail snaked just under your pant leg. The sharp edges of each small segment on the tip threatened to slice your skin. Satan shushed you and warned, “stay still. I don’t want to hurt that precious skin of yours.”

Using his tail like a serrated blade, Satan cut your clothes off. The sound of fabric tearing filled your head. You had to brace yourself as he tugged at your clothes. Satan didn’t even leave your underwear intact.

A cool breeze sent a chill up your spine just as Satan rubbed himself against your bare ass. He was still fully clothed. Typically, you might tell him that he was being unfair, but the friction left you wanting, and all you could do was mindlessly stick your ass out a bit more for him. He laughed and clicked his tongue. “Is prey supposed to be this needy?”

Satan bit your ear lobe with a low growl before he dropped to his knees. You may be needy, but he wanted to prepare you first – especially with the absence of lube. His hands grabbed your thighs and brought you to his lips. That tongue of his was longer, wetter, and warmer in his demon form. His claws dug into your skin, but it didn’t hurt. Even when he scratched down one of your legs, the burn was a pleasant tingle that only momentarily distracted you from the pleasure of his tongue working on you. Every slow, calculated lap at your entrance, every ravenous plunge into you, squirming up into you, every teasing flick – he was savoring you and your reactions. Only when he had made a sufficient mess of you did Satan pull away, admiring the sight of you sticking your ass out, legs spread, with your upper body braced against the tree.

“I think you’re ready for more,” Satan smirked up at you.

Satan turned your body and forced you to the ground on your hands and knees. You glanced back just in time for him to drag his claws down your spine. He had undressed while he was tonguing you – which only proved what a good job he had been doing for you to have not noticed.

There was lust in your eyes, but also a tinge of fear that Satan wanted to extinguish from you. He rubbed up against your ass slowly. Suddenly, you realized how eerily quiet the surrounding forest was. Satan had managed to scare everything off with his deep growls and snarls – both during the chase and as he licked you. Normally, the quiet would be terrifying, but not with Satan. He bent over and growled into your ear before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The pain was compounded when you felt him force the tip of his cock into you. You wanted to cover your mouth with your hand, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to hold yourself up; you had no choice but to let that sweet groan spill into the night.

Slowly, Satan pushed his full length into you – inch by inch. You hadn’t wanted him to be gentle with you, but this was Satan, and you knew he was trying to be rough and primal. Parts of him just slipped through, though. He waited until you had taken all of him to dip down next to your ear again and growl, “you’re all mine. Don’t you dare fucking forget it.”

You were left trembling. He had never been so rough, and you just wanted him to destroy you. Still, this was Satan. His chest pressed against your back as he reached one hand down to rub the front of your body, desperate to make you feel even better. Satan slammed his other hand onto the ground right next to yours, inching closer until he could grab hold of your wrist. His grip was strong, and he dug his claws into you. Even still, he couldn’t completely disguise that occasional need of his to hold your hand during sex.

His hands and deep thrusts were so attentive that you came while he continued to have his way with you. The pleasure – and the preceding chase – took its toll on your body. Your arms shook. Unable to hold yourself up on all fours, you leaned forward, pressing your cheek to the moss-covered ground.

Satan laughed and pulled back enough to admire the sight. “Fuck, you’re such weak prey. Fine.”

Fine? You were confused. He pulled out of you, leaving you empty and disappointed, but that need was soothed when Satan forced you onto your back effortlessly and pushed back into you with urgency.

The demon above you looked wild and ravenous. And yet, the moonlight shined off his horns and made his golden hair almost appear silver. Those wolfish eyes, however, were darker than the forest around you, devoid of light. He was beautiful and terrifying – a true horror, but all that did was deepen your desire. Satan gave you but a brief moment to admire him before he buried his face in your neck.

A whimper escaped your mouth. He was so close to your throat, and the world fell silent around you. Every sound you made graced his ears with perfect clarity, but the embarrassment of being heard couldn’t stop you. Even as your face burned, you let yourself react, uninhibited – letting him hear every dirty sound and feel every ache and throb of your body.

“I can’t get enough of this tight little hole,” Satan purred. “I lucked out, finding the sluttiest little lamb to use. You already came, but you still have the lust to moan like a desperate whore? Looks like you aren’t so scared anymore.”

“Neither are you,” you smiled and caressed his cheek. He bit your hand – just past the point of subtle pain – and was slow to release you.

Satan pushed one of your legs further up in an attempt to thrust right into that spot he knew you adored. He hit it. Repeatedly.

“Keep moaning like a slut for me. I’m going to mark your insides and breed you, got it?”

Your only response was pitiful whining and scratching down his back.

“That’s it. Take it all for me, okay?” He released into you, fucking his cum deeper for a few strokes before he pulled out with a chuckle. “Fuck, that was hotter than I expected it to be.”

He rolled over to stare up at the tree canopy with you, held your hand, and asked, “Did I do okay? You’re not in pain or anything, are you?”

You mustered all of your remaining energy to sit up and crawl over him, straddling his chest. He was slightly aroused again to have you so close to his face. When you stared down at him, your shadow obscured him from the light, but you could still see every feature of his beautiful face, flushed and content. As beautiful as he appeared, the image of you against the stars, moonlight hitting your back and creating a halo, was breathtaking. You both soaked in it until your breath calmed.

Unfortunately, the realization that Satan had ruined your clothes found you soon after. He couldn’t sneak you back into the house looking like that. If anyone happened to be up and he got caught, his brothers would try to keep him away from you entirely – especially with how much he had scratched up your thighs and marked your neck. Even your knees were dark and dirty.

Luckily, his sense came back to him. You could just teleport. He put his clothes back on and grabbed your shredded clothes (which he would properly dispose of and replace at a later date) before he teleported you both to the bathroom, shielding you against the wall with his body in case anyone happened to be in there. With the bathroom clear, Satan guided you to one of the chairs and encouraged you to sit. He promised to return with clothes and take care of everything. “Just stay put.”

When he returned, he kneeled next to you with a first aid kit and checked your body for scrapes and bruises.

He was quite pleased with himself when he found very few injuries – and certainly nothing of note. Soap and water would clean you up just fine. Satan ran the shower and stripped down while he waited for the water to heat up. When it was ready, he led you into the shower.

Satan gently scrubbed your skin. You didn’t object to him washing you, and even if you had, Satan would have insisted. As he washed, you noticed he would excessively graze sensitive areas on your body just to watch your reaction. His eyes were fixed on your body like he was reading a captivating book. Somehow, you felt more exposed than you were outside.

Once you were clean, Satan helped you rinse off before he started scrubbing himself. Without his wandering hands and lingering touch to cloud your mind, you noticed that he was hard again. The embarrassment – along with the comforting warmth of the shower – left you paralyzed in place. Were you supposed to stay in there while he finished? Should you help him? Should you get dried off? Well, maybe you could at least give him some privacy.

You turned your back to him. Ignoring his erection became impossible when Satan shyly encircled his arms around you and pulled you against him, creating the sound of a brief wet slap between skin. He hummed as the water ran down both of your bodies. “You’re not trying to escape me, are you?”

“No,” you reassured him.

“Good.” He smiled and placed a chaste kiss on your neck – a confusing reaction considering it was juxtaposed with him twitching against you. In a honey-seeped tone, he called your name like a question, “MC?”

“Yes?”

“Could we try that again sometime? Maybe we could even switch if you want.” He was blushing – his cheeks red, and not from the hot water, either. He had melted back into his sweet, soft Satan side. The problem was that this side hadn’t quite had its fill of you yet. Satan wondered if he could squeeze one more round out of you in that bathroom, fucking you slow and lovingly, until your voice was reverberating off the walls.

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC Targaryen. | SERIES

All NSFW warnings apply in future chapters.

Author's note • After my recent rant, Ive decided to feed the girlies who want fics that align with canon Aemond. Sooooo Im coming home for my girls with an fire & blood timeline retelling & not just more boring ass Mary Sue × Aemond smut. So we are starting from the beginning. The vibe is, "I could make him significant worse".

Word Count ~ 1.4k

Index

i ● ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi● vii ● viii ● ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

ii ~ 'Age of Hero's'

124 AC

It was not until later that night the young princess saw her uncle again. It took little effort to convince the Kings guard that she was not here to continue to jeer at the prince, but rather to give a sincere apology. At least, that is what she had told herself. It had not occurred to her, why or how men oft bended to her will. In truth, Visenya had little thoughts on such things, for all she knew, she asked and received accordingly – and if she did not receive, she would promptly sway until her desires were met.

It was this very naivety, this innate trust that the world would simply open its loving arms for her whenever she pleased, that worried her mother and father so dearly. Both knowing the ways of men, the violence and sickness that dwelled in her heads, most especially about a Princess of Valyrian blood. Seen less so for her heart and more for her blood born proximity to the God’s themselves. To power of fire made flesh, and of course. The beauty which came with Valyrian blood.

Visenya entered Aemond’s room quietly, and when she came before him, came before his body splayed out upon his bed she swiftly averted her gaze. The princess cleared her throat, a small noise of a disturbance left his mouth as he jumped, swiftly propping himself upwards.

“What are you doing in here? You ought-” His voice laced with outraged as The Princess interrupted.

“Temper yourself. I’ve not come to goad you. I just, I came to apologise.” A small laugh left her, she put her hand up.

“I do not give a shit.” Aemond snapped.

Visenya tilted her head, scanning him, “Fine. But I shall do so anyway.”

“Why?” Asked Aemond, the air teaming with uncertainty as he watched his sly niece walk slowly, stalking through his room like a cat.

“Because it is right, it is what is owed, and I’ve no intention being in your debt.” Visenya sighed, her voice almost aloof, smug. Her eyes look in the space, the perfectly kept books and scrolls upon his desk. The princess reached the dark mahogany desk that was seemly gleamed in the firelight. It seemed the prince had little taste nor need for decor, he seemed to only own objects for utilitarian purposes, he was so… conservative, Visenya thought. In fact, the only unkept thing was an open book, her pale fingers grazed the pages. Clearly, he had taken it from her Grandsire’s personal Library. She looked at the top, small writing detailing the topic ‘Age of Heros: Symeon Star-Eyes’. She had never heard of such a thing, her thoughts interrupted as another pale hand snatched the book away.

The prince’s eyes met hers with a venomous glare as placed the small book back upon his desk, “I find it difficult to believe you care about what is right.”

Visenya scoffed in response as she paced to the other side of the desk, her fingers as cunning as she as they found his book once more, “True. Perhaps I don’t, however it hardly matters. For even if I am saying it to benefit myself, my meaning is sincere.”

Frustration and rage tore through Prince Aemond as he then turned and stepped forward, who was she to dare apologise? After all this time, all these years of enduring her fucking bastard brothers torment? No, no Aemond would not tolerate it, he was not one to embrace pity. “I’ve no reason to accept your pathetic apology and I have no use for the rag of pity you continue to throw at me!” He snapped.

Visenya found herself taken aback by the fire in his eyes, she felt her own frustration boil as she bit back with equal fervour, “Yes, well perhaps you ought to! Since it seems I am the only one who is willing to throw it to you, and actually, unlike what you may think. I have little interest in hating you.”

“Do not lie.” Aemond stepped forward, his voice low.

“It is no lie. I do not hate you, we most certainly do not get along. But, I have little reason to hate you.” She shrugged, Visenya relaxed once more.

Though Prince Aemond could not tolerate it any longer, he would not take another drop of her insolence… her teasing, her lies! He snapped again, “You… you and your brothers torment me for your own amusement.”

“As does Aegon.” The Princess sneered, once again he had gotten himself into a state, she thought.

“I do not give a shit about Aegon! He is a fool and already a drunkard, and… and, well he is also my brother.” The prince wanted to push her, slap that smarmy sneer from her face. He stumbled upon his words, feeling more flustered, more overcome with the memories of all of his sister’s bastard’s torment. Their stupid, arrogant faces.

Visenya, ever cool, raised her brow, “So?”

“So, it is different.” He bit back.

Visenya stepped forward, folding her arms as she analysed him, by the Gods was he bothered. Still, she retorted back, “I dare say Aegon torments you for his own amusement far more than I. In fact, I do not torment you at all. They are mere jests!”

“Mocking me for not claiming a dragon is not a simple jest!” He had had it, the prince suddenly found himself unable to control it anymore, his hands came out before him, connecting with his niece’s chest as he pushed her back.

Visenya stumbled only slightly, she looked down and then swiped a stray hair from her face. Silence fell between them before a moment, a piercing silence. The soft breaths of Aemond to be heard as he tried to temper himself. A slight guilt filled him, but not for what he had done to the Princess, rather what may happen to him if his father found out. Or worst of all… if her father found out. The silence dragged, before shattered with the soft cackles of Visenya. Her face beaming.

“Gods…” She laughed, tilting her head back. Perhaps he was right, perhaps she did tease him for her own amusement. Tis his fault really, Aemond ought to learn how not to be so easily pestered, he ought to enjoy her attention on him. Only the Gods knows how many other boys try and fail to garner her interest. Yet it was him, who truly captured Visenya. A cruel smile rose to her face.

“Just get out!” Aemond snapped again, feeling a slight measure of weakness under her gaze. He reached forward, grabbing her wrist harshly as he forced her to the door,  

As he did so, Visenya cackled, enjoying this far too much, she laughed as she spoke, “Very well, I apologize for my lapses, and I will not speak on your lack of a dragon again, Uncle.” The door swung open and Visenya nearly gasped as she felt the firm grip of the Kings Guard outside his chambers grip her shoulder.

“Come, princess. The hour grows late, the both of you ought be in your bedchambers for the night.” The King’s Guard voice rang firm as he began to escort Visenya away, her eyes lingered upon Aemond once more, as she giggled.

The cheeky cackling of his niece could be heard through the prince’s heavy doors, Aemond wore a bitter expression. He was utterly infuriated, utterly exhausted… and utterly ashamed in his own inability to not give in to her teasing. He scanned his room, the firelight casting a soft orange glow, the air was warm, and it’s smell a comforting indication of embers. Aemond sat upon his bed once more, eyes sharp and pained, a part of him wished to crawl into the arms of his mother but he did not send for her. No, he would face this alone, he would not behave as the weak little bellyacher they all thought him to be. He would be strong, infallible; he would be a man.

Upon this thought, Prince Aemond rose up from his bed, approaching his desk once more as he longed to find comfort in the tales of great knights and ruthless warriors; to read of Symeon Star Eyes. Yet, as the young prince’s eyes met the mahogany surface, he felt his gut coil with rage once more.

His book had been swiped.

○iii○

[sanguineterrain]

Hello madame terrain, I have been thinking about boxer!jason for some time now and I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about him? if not that's totally okay too ☺️ love all your writing!!!

lol hi, madame terrain is adorable 💕 also boxer jason is big brained!!! let's do it ;)

boxer!jason todd x gn!reader. reader is an apprentice to a ringside doctor (leslie thompkins). tw creepy OMC intimidates reader, jason protects/defends r, fluff, my attempt at boxing stuff.

****

Leslie said she'd be back in an hour.

You're currently at the thirty minute mark, hoping for a natural disaster, an angel, anything, because...

"Doc gives me stuff for my pain all the time," Keith says for the third time. "It's real simple."

Keith Dixon is one of the gym's regular fighters. You haven't seen enough matches to judge his fighting, but you can confidently say that his people skills are in the toilet.

He'd barged into the office ten minutes ago and had refused to leave even when you said Leslie was out.

You need to make a break for it.

"You have to wait for Dr. Thompkins," you say, lifting your chin. You won't give in and risk losing this job. No way in hell. "I can't administer medications. I'm not licensed."

Keith rolls his eyes. He's a hothead, new to Gotham. Likes to fight. Likes to fight mean.

"Look, you're new. I'm just giving you a heads-up on how things work around here," he says, backing you up further. You're nearly against the wall.

Where the hell is Leslie?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon, but I can't prescribe painkillers without her supervision."

"Uh-huh. Know what I think? I think you're just not cut out for the ring," Keith says, cornering you against the cabinet. "Cute thing like you shouldn't be hiding in an office. The Doc ought to know better..."

"Is there a problem?"

The new voice makes you flinch, just a little. Keith pulls back, posture easy but guarded. The second guy holds himself similarly. He's also well-built, clad in a gray tee and black sweatpants. His hands are wrapped.

"J-man," Keith says, daggers in his teeth. "Man, I thought you were benched for the week. You meet our new assistant? They're still getting used to how things run around here."

The mystery man looks at you. His eyes are a lovely teal.

"Is he botherin' you?" he asks.

"I—" You swallow. "I was just explaining to Keith that I can't administer medicine without Dr. Thompkins."

Keith huffs. "Jason, tell 'em how this works."

Jason faces Keith. They nearly match each other in height and bulk. You hope to God they don't decide to brawl here and now.

"I think you're the one who needs a reminder, Dixon," Jason says coolly. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. You need to wait for the Doc. So was there something else you needed?"

Keith's mouth presses into a line. You can tell he's got about a hundred ugly thoughts on his tongue right now.

"Nope," he grits out.

"Mm. Then step off."

Keith obeys. You slip out of the corner.

"I'll come back," he says.

"When the Doc's here," Jason adds. It doesn't sound like a suggestion. "If y'need a reminder of her schedule, I don't mind giving you one."

Keith looks at you. You hold his gaze, heart pounding.

"Of course," he says, all false charm, and pushes past Jason. "See ya in the ring, J.T."

You can't relax even after Keith leaves. Jason remains in the doorway. You close your eyes at the thought of dealing with another fighter. It's not bad with Leslie here, but this is your first time alone. It's already a disaster.

Obviously, none of the fighters respect you like they respect Leslie, even after three weeks of you working here. You don't even know all of the fighters.

"Hey." Jason doesn't move from his spot as he asks. "Y'okay?"

"Yes," you say, keeping your back straight. "I'm fine. Do you need medical attention?"

"I just came to get some more wraps. But I can get 'em at home."

His voice is softer now that Keith's gone.

"No need," you say. "That's what I'm here for."

You get a roll of tape from the drawer. It takes you three tries to pull the edge out. You drop it twice.

You feel Jason's eyes on you. You keep pulling the tape, but it won't comply.

"I got it," he says. "I can wrap myself. Toss it here."

You pause, tape half unfurled. "Dr. Thompkins told me to do all wraps myself."

"Leslie's cool. I won't tell her, anyway."

You shake your head. "Why don't you want me to wrap your hands?"

Jason glances to the side. He leans against the doorframe, purposely casual.

"'Cause Keith's a big guy. And I'm a big guy. And your hands are still shaking."

You tighten your grip on the tape.

Jason gestures to the office. "This is your space. I won't come in if you don't want me to. That's not how this works."

"It's... it's the job," you say, startled. "I don't—I've heard that Keith's rough with everybody."

"Yeah, well, he's an asshole. You shouldn't have to be rough back. Good fighters turn it off outside of the ring. I don't want to make you feel small. Alright?"

Tension bleeds out of your spine. You no longer feel like prey.

"It's easier if I wrap them for you," you say, and turn your back on him to fetch the antiseptic.

The tiles behind you creak as Jason hesitates for a moment. Then he walks in and sits in a chair, so you're higher than him.

He looks up at you. He really does have beautiful eyes. His eyelashes are dark and delicate. There's a faded bruise on his cheek.

He's boyishly handsome, with a mouth that looks like it smiles a lot.

"Do you also fight here?"

He nods. "Since I was eighteen. Been here a while."

You take one of his hands in both of yours. Jason's already thrown out the old tape. His knuckles are cut up. They're covered in scars. His fingernails are short and neat.

His hands are big, far bigger than yours. Veins feed into each other from the backs of his hands up his forearms.

You take out the antiseptic spray.

"Might be cold," you warn.

"'S okay."

You spray his skin. Jason doesn't even flinch.

"Your hands are really soft," he says.

"Oh, thank you. I use Isley's Salve. Works great."

Why did you share that?

Jason's mouth quirks. "Yeah? Might have to try that. My hands have seen better days."

"I have some in my bag." You let go of the half-done wrap and dig through your backpack. You pull out the small tube of salve and squeeze some onto his hands.

Jason is quiet and still as you rub in the lotion. He's pliant as you finish the wraps, letting you turn his hands over. You pull the wraps tight.

"All done," you say, face suddenly warm like you've been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.

He flexes his hands a few times. "Thanks. You're good. I can see why Leslie chose you as her apprentice."

You shrug. "Anybody can wrap hands."

"Dunno. I've seen some pretty shit wraps in my time."

"Oh. Well, um, I'm here most of the time, so feel free to come by and get your wraps changed."

He hums. "Sure. Don't worry 'bout Keith. I'll take care of it."

Your eyes widen. "I don't want more trouble..."

"You won't get trouble, I promise. We don't tolerate that here. 'Sides, he's overstayed his welcome."

You nod. "Okay. Thank you, Jason."

"No need for thank you's. Y'alright getting home?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Leslie's dropping me."

Jason nods, then picks himself up. He pauses like he wants to say something else, but he strides out of the room like he's in a rush instead.

"Well, um. G'night," he says over his shoulder. "Take care."

It's about fifteen more minutes until Leslie returns.

"Everything alright?" she asks in a tone that tells you she already knows the answer. "I ran into Jason on my way in. He said Keith Dixon gave you some trouble. I'm sorry I took so long. Are you alright?"

"You ran into—I thought Jason went home for the night."

Leslie looks like you've just told her the sky is red. "He wanted to make sure you were okay. So he waited till I came back. Are you okay? Did Keith hurt you?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm alright. Just shaken up. He's a bully. Wanted painkillers."

Leslie frowns. "He won't bother you again. I'll make sure you're not alone."

"It's okay. I mean, Jason was there."

She nods. "Mm. He's a good boy. I know his father."

"Yeah, he, uh, was nice. I wrapped his hands."

Leslie raises an eyebrow. Your shoulders rise.

"What?" you ask. "You said to practice my wraps."

She shrugs. "Nothing, nothing. I did tell you that. I'm glad you got some practice in."

You follow her to her car. Soon, Leslie pulls out of the lot.

"Leslie, do you mind if we stop at CVS?"

"Sure. What for?"

You feel for the little tube in your pocket.

"Need more Isley's Salve... I'm, uh, running low."

[dev-solovey]

Reading up on the history of American Idiot (album) and realizing exactly how revolutionary it was and I just have to yell about it for a hot second

So, before they started working on American Idiot, the band was having problems and they were thinking they were going to break up. But for a couple of reasons, they switched directions, most notably because they all felt strongly about the Iraq War and how it was manufactured by greed and warmongering from the Bush administration, which was amplified by the news media. I read a quote from Billie Joe Armstrong where he talked about how the news media was becoming "more of a reality show" than it was news, and he couldn't have been more right. In fact, that problem got worse, and now we're living in an era of rampant misinformation where everything is politicized to a point where just supporting human rights for marginalized people is considered controversial. The song American Idiot came out in 2004, and when Donald Trump first visited the UK at the beginning of his presidency, it was the top played song on every UK radio station, 12 years after it was released. Most things would be culturally irrelevant at that point.

When creating the album American Idiot, a lot of thought went into it - they had a very specific message in mind, and their goal was to send that message to youth. This is because they realized at some point that their fanbase was a bunch of teenagers, and even though they hadn't necessarily intended it that way, they suddenly had a platform with the youth of America and they decided they ought to do something good with it. The drummer, Tré Cool, said something along the lines of "I've never really liked the idea of preaching to kids, but I realized we don't really have a choice at this point." And I love that so much because like, so many people who get rich and famous just become completely out of touch, and when they get a platform, it's very easy to exploit that platform, influence them with terrible ideas, or encourage them to act in terrible ways for self-serving reasons (ex: JK Rowling, Andrew Tate, Dream, Logan Paul, Onision, etc etc). Green Day refused to allow themselves to get to that point. They know the platform they had gave them power and they made an active choice early on to be responsible with it. And a lot of that moral code comes from the fact that they came up in the DIY punk scene in Oakland, which held its members to a very high standard of ethics, a code that they still follow even after they were disowned by that scene when they signed on with a major record label in 1994.

The song American Idiot has a message of "this mass media hysteria is manufactured bullshit, don't fall for it," and it is not subtle about that message. It punches you right in the face. I remember being 12 years old and listening to it and thinking, "yeah, I don't want to be an American idiot." And now, at the age of 28, I am a staunch leftist who is firmly against the atrocities the US government commits, and I feel strongly about stopping misinformation. So I can say with absolute certainty that they succeeded.

I also get like, really upset when people say that American Idiot is the album where they sold out, because that's objectively not true, both for the reasons I've provided above, and also because of the song Wake Me Up When September Ends. Not a lot of people know the story behind this song, but it's actually a song that Billie Joe wrote about the experience of his dad dying of cancer when he was 10 years old. The story, as he tells it, is that when he came home from school, his mom gave him the news, and being (understandably!) upset, started crying, ran to his room and slammed the door. When she knocked on the door to try and talk to him, he shouted "wake me up when September ends!!" in response. It took him decades to be able to write this song, and it shows because it's the perfect grief song, having been played at benefits for 9/11, hurricane Katrina, and so on. The first time I heard that song it reduced me to tears, because you can hear the intense sadness in it. A "sellout" would never write a song like that!! (Side note: maybe stop tweeting at Green Day to wake up every October 1st, it's super tone deaf given the subject matter,,,)

Anyway, I think I'm done being autistic about Green Day (that's a lie, they'll forever be my special interest), so TL;DR:

Thank you, Green Day, for creating a generation of leftists who aren't about the bullshit

[calummss]

1920s LOVE | KLAUS MIKAELSON

masterlist : part 2

summary: your cousins, the salvatore brothers, tell you to go straight home after school. an evil vampire has come to town and it’s too dangerous; so what happens when the original vampire appears in your house unannounced

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 1.9k

a/n: my first tvd imagine for literally the man i love the most. this fic has similarities to @frost-queen ‘s work as i requested the imagine to her before i started writing but i wanted to write it myself. so before you come at me she already knows as i asked her first!! :)

‘After that we miss our chance to make memories.’ You chimed with Bonnie and Elena, all of you smiling as the cool breeze filtered through your hair.

‘Caroline, I’m not that type of person and you know that!’ A giggle escaped your lips, your hands reaching for hers. ‘Besides, I promised Stefan that I’d go straight home after school.’

‘What even is he to you?’ Caroline pulled her most Caroline face ever.

‘Well he feels like my cousin, but technically he’s probably my great x1000 cousin or something. All I know is that I’m a Salvatore and that connects us.’

Caroline pondered for a moment, letting go of your hands and bracing herself. ‘Fine.’

You let out a breath.

‘But,’

You sighed.

‘You have to actually show up to the dance and not just for five minutes before disappearing with Jeremy to never be seen again.’

‘Fine.’ You threw your hands up in the air and walked away from the group. ‘I can’t wait Caroline! I’m going to have so much fun.’ You made fun of yourself, earning chuckles from the girls before they parted ways too.

Stefan, even though your cousin from hundreds of generations ago, acted like your big brother despite being your age (one could argue about that). Stefan and Damon felt more like brothers and that’s what you always referred to them as. Since you started living at the Boarding house and got told the type of lifestyle the brothers lived, they always made sure you were safe. You were truly grateful for that. Having someone actually care about your well-being and not just yell at you to bring food to the table even though you were only nine years old…it was family. But Stefan and Damon could be pushy when it did come to your safety. Especially since that really old vampire came to town and terrorised Mystic Falls’ supernatural citizens. Since you were a human; a human that knew of vampires and was friends with them so they didn’t want to take any chances. So like any other girl with overprotective brothers, you had no other choice but to go home.

You took your time walking back. The sounds of leaves rustling on the pavement. Red-orangey leaves tumbling across the cement. Whistling of the winds as it bolted through the trees.

You felt at peace. Peace you had longed for for a long time.

Arriving at the enormous house , you unlocked the door and threw your school bag next to the shoe rack, slumping your way down the hall, but someone caught your eye.

‘And you are?’ You asked the man whose eyes were glued onto you as you walked down the steps that led to the living room.

‘You don’t know me, love?’ The stranger cocked his head with a sneaky grin on his face.

‘No, otherwise I wouldn’t ask, dumbass.’

The man chuckled, slowly standing up and stepping forwards, ‘I’m Klaus Mikaelson, I think you might’ve heard of me.’

‘That scary old hybrid?’ You gasped, mouth wide open with a weird expression of positive surprise; but you weren't afraid.

‘In the flesh.’ He lifted his arms to his side, palms facing upwards like he stood in front of a civilisation that ought him to be a god.

‘No offence but I thought Klaus was some creepy old man…you're surprisingly hot.’ You confessed, ignoring the fact that you never spoke so directly to a stranger. ‘Well, I don’t know why you're here and I don’t think I care. I made food before I went to school so it should be done by now, do you want some?’ You walked past him, mumbling quietly, knowing he could hear you, and entered the kitchen where your tart from this morning stood.

‘How do I know that you won’t kill me?’ Klaus replied.

‘Well first, I actually don’t know how to kill you,’ you lifted your thumb and started to count the reasons. ‘I would be extremely dumb to even try and I really just want to know if my food tastes good.’

‘So not all the Salvatores are as dumb as the brothers.’ He relaxed his weight into one of the kitchen stools and eyed you up and down, scanning for something.

‘Is that a compliment or are you badmouthing me with mirroring words?’

‘I take that back.’

‘Arsehole.’ You scoffed and walked around the kitchen aisle to grab a plate from one of the cupboards.

‘So what exactly am I looking at,’ Klaus eyes the ceramic pan that you had set out on the island moments before, ‘it looks nice.’

‘It’s a strawberry tart with a layer of condensed whipped cream and a layer of red bean,’ you started to plate the first portion, ‘and before you start with ‘Red bean? oh my god that’s sooooo weird’, it’s a sweet type. Very popular in east Asia. It’s really good.’ You smiled at him and pushed a fork towards him. ‘I could never make something not tasty because I’m a good chef.’

Klaus chuckled, the corner of his mouth turning into a slight smile, yet his eyes were just as cold. Grabbing the fork you had placed before him, he took a piece with equal amounts of ingredients and placed it in his mouth.

You eyed him for a long second. He wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t frowning. He wasn’t doing anything. Klaus’ face was blank as the test sheet you had given Mr. Saltzman this morning in first period.

‘So?,’ your eyes still on his face, ‘is it good?’ you leaned in closer, eyes narrowing with a smile. You clicked with your tongue, index finger pointing at the so-called monster in joy, ‘Of course it is!’

Instead of answering your question, Klaus simply took another hit confirming the good taste.

‘I knew it!’ You drummed against the kitchen aisle, ‘Miss Salvatore could never fuck up a dish.’ Amused, you finally gave yourself a piece and enjoyed your tart. ‘So,’ you covered your mouth with your hand, ‘you’re a 1000 year old vampire that everyone’s scared of…why?’

‘I guess it’s because I’m an Original,’ he leaned forward, close enough to smell your scent, ‘Can I have another?’ He eyed the pan.

You nodded.

‘An original vampire,’ you nodded your head cooly. ‘That’s cool. But what brings you here? I doubt you’re vacationing in Mystic Falls. Anyone willing to do that must be boring and have no expectations,’

Klaus snickered in response, his intimidating yet charming eyes felt like they were pushing past your eyes. ‘I need something.’ He confessed.

‘What?’

‘Can’t tell you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’ll tell your brothers.’ He ate the last piece of tart on his plate and leaned against the counter.

‘They’re more like my cousins,’ you grabbed his plate and set it in the skink, starting to clear things away. ‘Million times removed.’

‘You’re human?’ His tone changed but you couldn’t quite make it out. Did you suddenly fall into his power-play-game?

You hummed in response, turning back to him and sitting down on one of the barstools.

‘Do you like it?’ He asked, some sort of genuineness coating his words.

You hesitated for a second. No one had ever asked you before if you preferred the life you were living. Not even Damon asked you and he was the first to be in favour of turning humans for fun.

‘Sometimes I guess, but the thrill of wanting to be a vampire is overbearing at times.’ You took a sip of water, ‘Stefan and Damon said they’d only ever turn me if there was no other option.’ You took a long pause. ’I feel vulnerable as a human and a spark of confidence couldn’t hurt me, right?’

Klaus turned his head forward, chuckling. ‘I think you already have that spark of confidence you’re talking about, love.’

‘Can I ask you a question? Technically it’s two but,’

‘Go ahead, darling.’

Darling—…Stop.

‘Since you’re a thousand years old,’ you turned your body to him, ‘what’s your favourite decade or era you lived in? Like the Victorian era, Tudor age, all that…what’s your most favourite?’

Klaus lingered a smile, seeming almost smitten with your curiosity and sensing a passion for the past.

‘Maybe the 1920s,’ Klaus said, your eyes instantly lighting up. ‘The music, the people, the aura…it was a great time.’

‘I’m jealous,’ your face fell to a pout, swinging the last drop of water down your throat and reaching for the jug to refill your glass. ‘I wish I experienced the twenties,’

‘I think you would’ve loved the 1920s London party scene.’

‘And do you miss it? The past, I mean. Or do you prefer the modern world? I mean certain aspects are obviously for the better but it must be lonely when everything and everyone you knew ceased to exist…I think I’d become lonely.’

‘I have my family.’

‘But humans,’ you cleared your throat, ‘Vampires,’ you corrected yourself. ‘Nonetheless need different people around them. Otherwise we’d go mad.’

‘I’m already mad.’

‘I heard.’ You let out a suppressed laugh. ‘Well anyway, there’s a 1920s decade dance next week and I don’t know if I’ll go. Apparently Mystic Falls is becoming dangerous for humans and I should only go out if completely necessary.’ Shrugging your shoulders, you got up from your chair when the front door suddenly opened and in a matter of seconds Stefan and Danon were standing in the kitchen.

Damon immediately seized your upper arm with force, pulling you closer to him. He scanned your face, then your torso, arms, legs, to see if Klaus had hurt you or compelled you but he didn’t find a single scratch.

‘What?’ Klaus finally stood up and eyes the brothers up and down. ‘You think I’d harm such excellent company?’

‘What did you do?’ Stefan chimed him defensively.

You broke from Damon’s grib and walked to the other side of the kitchen aisle so that you were now between the men. ‘He didn’t do anything. We ate cake and talked. That’s it.’

Stefan eyed you for a while, but he could tell you weren’t lying and there was no reason for you to cover for him so he accepted the scene in front of him.

‘We have what you want, Klaus,’ Damon hissed, ‘but not here. Leave her out of this.’

Klaus turned his head to look at you. ‘Fine,’ now facing back at Damon. ‘but don’t fuck me over again or I will make this living hell for you.’

Stefan pushed forward, ‘We’ll talk outside.’

Klaus followed Damon, Stefan behind him and turned around one last time leaving you a tad puzzled, ‘It was nice to meet you, love.’

‘You too.’

*1 week later*

Ding ding, Doorbell.

Ugh, you rolled off the couch and stomped towards the door.

‘Caroline I said I’m not going. I can’t be arsed and—oh my god.’ You swung the door open not to reveal the blonde girl that had been nagging at you all week.

Instead it was him. Klaus Mikaelson.

‘I— Ehm— What are you doing here?’

‘I’m here to take you to the 1920s, love.’

[suppose-i-was-worm]

I Put A Spell On You

Fake Dating (Part 1)

**I know, it's not the one that I started writing and was really funny, I'm having a lot of trouble with that one. Enjoy this one instead!**

“I need your help.”

Damian frowned, stashing away the knife he’d hidden beneath his pillow. Danny was crouched on the sill of the window he’d come in through, looking at him with wide blue eyes.

“Tt. What do you need? It is well past midnight.”

“I need you to fake date me.”

“What?”

Danny flinched, and Damian realized how sharp his question had been.

“My apologies. Please explain to me what is going on so that I can best assist you.”

Coming fully into the room, Danny started to explain.

“So, you know my parents and holidays, right? They- they’ve started hounding me about bringing home a significant other since Jazz got married.”

Damian nodded- he was familiar with Danny’s parents’ personality, even having never met them.

“Anyways, for Thanksgiving, they’re threatening to invite Paulina over and make me sit next to her. Paulina, Dames! I wouldn’t survive. So I told them I had a boyfriend who lived here in Gotham, and now they’re insisting on coming here to visit. If they find out I lied, I’ll be dead! My grades are too good for an early death.”

“So you came to me.”

“You’re the only person I know well enough to pull this off, Damian.”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit picked up from his father.

“And you did not think to tell them about-“

Cutting him off, Danny grabbed Damian’s face and looked directly into his eyes, a serious look on his face.

“Damian, I assure you it would be a fate worse than death if they found out how we met.”

Damian pulled himself away from Danny, glad for the dim light of his bedroom hiding the blush heating up his cheeks. The other man had never been that close to his face, and Damian would probably say that Danny’s eyes were more dangerous for him than the entire League of Assassins.

“Please, Dames? It’s Paulina we’re talking about.”

Closing his eyes, Damian thought things through. Fake dating Danny would be- a blessing and a curse at the same time. A blessing, as it would require him to be close to the other man for extended periods. A curse, because he knew it would end as soon as Danny’s parents left Gotham. For Damian, who had been struck by Danny’s beauty from the first moment he’d seen the other, the brief benefits might just outweigh the pain of them ending. At least he’d have the memory of being close to Danny.

When he opened his eyes, Danny was holding his hands in a mock praying position, looking up at Damian through his lashes.

“Tt. Fine.”

Danny lit up, literally, and then darted forward, planting a kiss on Damian’s cheek.

“You’re the best! They’re coming in to town tomorrow- drop by mine when you can!”

The other man slid back out of the window and flew off before Damian recovered from the kiss enough to protest the short notice.

~~~

The next day found Damian waiting outside Danny’s apartment, flowers in hand. He had done some investigation as to what he ought to bring with him to meet a significant other’s parents, so he was also armed with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates.

The door opened soon enough after his knock, revealing an older woman he had never seen before. He could see where Danny got his frame, though, as well as his delicate features.

“You must be Damian! Come in! Danny’s elbow deep in the microwave with Jack. I’m Maddie- we’ve heard so much about you!”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

He stepped inside the apartment, handing Maddie the wine and chocolates after she closed the door.

“Oh, you’re a charmer, aren’t you? Danny!”

Danny poked his head out of the kitchen, and Damian almost swooned at the look Danny gave him.

“Hey Dames! Glad you could make it!”

He emerged, wiping what looked like grease off his hands, and took the flowers that Damian handed him.

“For you, Beloved.”

More importantly, he also took the short kiss Damian gave him over the bouquet.

When Damian pulled away, he was delighted to see that Danny was flushed.

“Uh- thank you! They’re beautiful.”

“Oh, you two are so cute! How long have you been dating?”

“Three years.”

“Not long.”

Danny and Damian spoke at the same time, and then Damian smiled smoothly, determined to fix his mistake.

“Perhaps I feel like our time together until now has been too short. Every time I see you, you are as beautiful as the day we met.”

He was rewarded with Danny flushing an even brighter red.

Maddie turned to her son, hands on her hips.

“You’ve been dating this polite young man for so long and hadn’t told us?”

Danny shuffled his feet, looking bashful.

“I didn’t want to scare him away. I really like him, mom.”

A large man came out of the kitchen, laughing a booming laugh.

“We can tell, Danno. It’s not like you haven’t been talking about him for the last few years.”

Damian looked over at Danny, doing his best not to let his expression show. Danny had been talking about him to his parents? For years?

Danny laughed nervously and then herded everyone into the dining room.

If he were being honest, Damian had pulled out all of his acting skills to charm the Drs. Fenton throughout the evening. He did not need acting skills for his interactions with Danny. He kept close to the other, wrapping an arm around his shoulder when he could and dropping light kisses into the shorter man’s hair when the opportunity presented itself.

It was heaven.

Danny walked him out to his car after dinner, and didn’t let go of Damian’s hand the entire way.

“Thank you for tonight, Dames.”

Damian smiled down at the love of his life.

“Of course, Beloved. Anything for my husband.”

With a scoff, Danny let go of Damian’s hand and stepped back.

“Sure, Damian. Drive safe.”

~~~

Danny Fenton knew when he was screwed. His parents had been in Gotham for a week, and Damian was still dropping by to see him on a semi regular basis. He’d even been touchy, and Danny knew that of all people, Damian Wayne wasn’t ever physically affectionate.

It partly gave him hope, and partly made him think this gambit was hopeless. He was aware of Damian’s extra-curriculars, after all, and knew the entire family were good actors.

And yet-

Damian’s parting kiss to him had been long and clinging the evening before his parents left, and he seemed reluctant to leave Danny standing in his own doorway. His hand lingered on Danny’s wrist, and his eyes were the last to tear away.

So, yeah. Danny was fifty percent sure that Damian might possibly reciprocate his feelings, but he didn’t have the courage to ask outright.

He hadn’t had the courage to ask much of Damian since they met, even though he’d been half in love with the other man the moment they laid eyes on each other.

It had been a routine summoning- He’d tasted the blood in his mouth, and while it did not necessarily taste like the blood of an innocent (he always went to bat for the victim in those cases), it piqued his curiosity enough to check things out.

He rose from the summoning circle, crown of fire wreathing his head as he showed off his less human appearance.

The cultists fell away from him, scrambling to bow and prostrate themselves in front of him.

“Oh great Ghost King! Please accept this sacrifice in order to take your rightful place as the lord of all worlds!”

Danny looked down to see a handsome young man in a well fitted suit glaring up at him, blood drying from a wound on his head.

When their eyes met, something changed. The summoning circle flared from Danny’s own ice blue to a sharp neon green, and something lit up under the chair the ‘sacrifice’ was tied to.

With noises of surprise, the cultists started to rise to investigate, but Danny snapped his fingers and caught them all in ice.

Landing, Danny inspected both the runes in the summoning circle and the one beneath the sacrifice, and then floated out of the circle to find the book the cultists had been using to summon him.

When he found it, he had the urge to finish these idiots off himself. They had somehow botched the ritual so much that they had turned it into something of a wedding, and now he was ghost married to a human civilian.

Turning back to said human civilian, he found the other on his feet on the opposite side of the room, holding an improvised weapon.

“Oh cool, you got free. Good news, you’re not going to die.”

The civilian stiffened even more, arching an eyebrow.

“Tt. What is the bad news?”

Danny shrugged.

“Oh, not much. We’re just kinda… Married now? I’ll find a way to dissolve it, or something, and you’re not obligated to have anything to do with me, but… Yeah. Supernaturally married. Is a thing. That we are.”

Civilian’s shoulders slumped, and he stalked out of the warehouse (why was it always warehouses?). Danny followed behind.

“Oh, hey, we’re in Gotham!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Close to my apartment.”

The man turned to him incredulously.

“The ghost king has an apartment in Gotham?”

Danny let his transformation wash over him.

“Well, Danny Fenton does, and I’m him most of the time.”

“Damian Wayne. A pleasure.”

Damian held out his hand, and Danny shook it carefully.

“Totally! I’m gonna- go. I guess. And look into the ghost married thing.”

“No rush. It might be advantageous to be married to an interdimensional king.”

With a laugh, Danny lifted into the air.

“Sure. I’m cool with being friends, if you want. Maybe we can work together.”

“I can do friends.”

[scriggle-scraggle]

Due South Fic Recs

Academic Punk by TheHoyden (RayK/Fraser): The quintessential college professor AU

Busted & its sequel Tapestry by JiM: A year after CoTW, and a life-changing experience, Ray goes back to Canada

Like a House on Fire by @bethbethbeth01 & kelliem (RayK/Fraser): “In the immortal words of Yogi Berra, ‘It’s deja vu all over again.’”

With Six You Get Eggroll by @cesperanza (RayK/Fraser): The story of how Ray & Fraser ended up with six kids.

Ray Is Not Actually Graphing The History Of His Relationship With Fraser–That Would Be Pathetic, And Ray Is Not Pathetic–But If He Was Graphing It, Even Just In His Own Stressed-Out, Messed-Up Brain, It Might Look Something Like This by sprat (RayK/Fraser): The sex has never not been good. That is not the confusing part of Ray-and-Fraser. They are naturals at the sex; the sex is their friend. If there was some kind of sexathalon, the two of them would be All-State, trophy-winning champs.

Like a House on Fire by Beth H (bethbethbeth): "In the immortal words of Yogi Berra, 'It's deja vu all over again.'"

Ping by Speranza: I am not the only person here who wants a do-over.

Tip, Slide, Tumble by j_s_cavalcante: Ray knew when he found the body in the alley it was going to change someone's life. He just didn't expect that life would be his.

All the Comforts of Home by rattlecatcher: post-CotW

Family Portrait by Journey [archived by dsa_archivist]: A slightly AU Ray Kowalski meets Constable Benton Fraser.

This Is Us Series by AuKestrel: how was the decision reached between Kowalski and Fraser to embark on the quest for the Hand of Franklin?

Near Wild Heaven Series by AuKestrel: This was, almost literally, the first thing I wrote, and certainly the first long thing I ever wrote. (Coming to Terms was the first "short" story I wrote and posted.) I worked on this off and on for over a year and did not write it in any kind of linear fashion. The first part was actually finished last, in part because I was stuck in getting them to a plausible misunderstanding that was necessary for the plot (such as it was). It's rough, and could have done with more work, although I did fix a lot of the (popular at the time, I swear!) dialect.

I'm posting it in part because I had SUCH a great time writing it (in fact, there are still parts of it that make me laugh), because I learned so much by/while writing it, and also because it's sort of "historical": a lot of the tropes in dS fandom did not exist when this was written (hard to believe, but there were only 27 F/K stories on Hexwood when I came into the fandom, and only about 5 of those had any kind of M/M sex!), and I thought it would be fun for other people to see how we earlier writers managed such things as tropes before they were tropes. But, in essence, you are about to read a "first novel," with all the alarm bells that ought to ring in your head.

Hawks and Hands by Dira Sudis (dsudis): Eighteen sex scenes strung together with angst and hockey.

Finding the Words by Berty: When luck finally runs out, who's there to pick up the pieces?

Wildly Courteous Ways by Starfish [archived by dsa_archivist]: A new assignment has Ray worried until Fraser steps in to help.

When the Ice Goes Out by Kellie Matthews [archived by dsa_archivist]: Long past CotW, Fraser and Ray K. discover that life both it and isn't as simple as it seems.

What We Talk About When We Talk About Wolves by Penelope Whistle [archived by dsa_archivist]: From stake-out to make-out.

Unguarded Protectorate by Bone [archived by dsa_archivist], Mairead Triste [archived by dsa_archivist]: Smut and angst. This story was previously published in the zine SERGE PROTECTOR.

Somewhere Else to Be by Kellie Matthews [archived by dsa_archivist]: This is an AU. Fraser's not a Mountie, Ray's not a cop, but as someone once said, things once linked remain that way. In any universe, they are meant to be partners.

The Reaching Out One by Alex51324: (AO3 account required) It's ten years after the events of CoTW (in other words, the present day). After the Quest, Fraser and Ray went back to their regular lives--

The Course by Bone [archived by dsa_archivist], Aristide [archived by dsa_archivist]: Randomness. Inevitability. Smut.

If It Walks Like A Duck . . . by Beth H (bethbethbeth): When an old friend of Ray Kowalksi's returns to Chicago, it takes almost no time at all for her to draw the obvious - and erroneous - conclusion about Ray and his "partner."

Genesis by kalena: In the beginning, Ray Kowalski meets Benton Fraser, geologist and volcano cowboy, in Hawaii. AU.

[shaynawrites23]

For your 200 follower celebration!

💋: I'd like one with with Sirius black! And the number... 58!!!

Congratulations to you on hitting 200! That ought to be a big achievement! I love your work BTW! Keep going!

Show Me

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Prompt: moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

Word count: 678

Warning: suggestive content, implied smut

A/N: im sorry this has been sitting in my inbox forever 😅 trying to stretch my writing muscles by doing a few blurbs before i write the longer requests, thought i'd clear out my inbox while im at it! whoever you are, anon, i thank you for the support and i hope you enjoy the drabble if you see this!

It started as a date. You haven't seen your boyfriend in some time, and the moment your schedules aligned, Sirius declared in his usual fashion that he was taking you out on a date.

In hindsight, you should have known it would end this way, and... maybe you wanted it to. You're dressed in the outfit he loves so much on you, smiled so innocently at him when he came to pick you up and ignored the way his breath hitched the moment he laid eyes on you. Or... well, Sirius believes you're only pretending not to notice.

He hasn't been able to keep his hands off of you all evening. A hand on your back, fingers tracing shapes on your thigh before he forces himself to let up on you slightly, hand reaching for yours, stealing a kiss every chance he gets... even as you leave, he has an arm around your waist, holding you close, smudging a kiss to your hairline paired with softly murmured words you don't catch.

And now...

Now, his lips are on yours before you've even entered your apartment; you're still blindly fumbling for your keys and have to push him away, just for a moment, else you're sure you'll be standing outside all night. He looks confused for a moment, and hurt, but then you're flinging the door open, tugging him inside with you by his belt loops, and the pieces click.

He kicks the door shut with his foot. You barely have time to register the dull slam of the wood before he's pulling you into him—or maybe you're dragging him closer by your hand on his collar—and he's groaning out a "fuck, so fuckin' pretty, darlin', my gorgeous girl-" before your mouths meet again, hot and greedy and wanting.

Sirius backs you up as he kisses you, strong hand gripping your hip. He knows the layout of your apartment well, too well for the way he bumps you against the corner of the dining table to be anything but carelessness. To his credit, he apologizes when you wince, hand moving to soothe the sore spot, but you've already forgotten about the incident, too lost in the way he's kissing you.

God, how you love his kisses. He has a way of kissing you so sweetly, moreso than you expected of a man like him, and that sweetness isn't lost even as his kisses turn deeper, hungry and impatient. Sirius kisses you like he wants you, like you're special, makes you feel like you're valuable, like you're worth it, and... and of course he does, you're all those things to him-

You're not given time to dwell on it, though, not with the way he's filling every corner of your mind. Sirius has quite the personality, too much for some, but you love him all the more for who he is. And right now, he's your breathtakingly handsome boyfriend who's leaning over you, pressing you onto your bed as he settles between your legs, and now your breath is catching in your throat.

"Merlin, look at you. My stunning girlfriend. Most attractive woman I've ever seen," he breathes when he pulls back to simultaneously catch his breath and admire you. You look like a work or art to him, a goddess, with tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips, panting and reaching for him like you miss him even though he's right there. He obliges, his weight pressing you further into the mattress as his teeth graze your pulse, his mouth kissing its way back up to yours. "Bet you did in on purpose, tryin' to test my restraint... darlin', don't you know what uou do to me when you dress up all pretty like that?"

Breathless and not about to admit you chose your outfit with him in mind, though you're certain he knows, you only shrug, and you feel his lips quirk into a smirk just under your jaw.

"Oh, gorgeous, I'm gonna show you just what it does to me."

That he certainly did.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

heya, i absolutely love your writing. seriously, it’s amazing!!

so i was wondering if i could request a larissa scenario where the reader can shapeshift. i was wondering if they could do it in a semi-public area eg car sex or event bathroom. maybe have larissa tease them publicly? eg. stroking their thigh, maybe even sitting on reader (non sexual but still in a teasing manner).

it could go as: larissa has to go to an event, can bring wife so she does. she keeps teasing r all night long and then r just can’t take it anymore.

Hi hi hi anon! Absolutely!! I love this idea 🥰 Thank you for your request, and thank you for your patience. Hope you Enjoy ♥️

Dinner Party Deals ~Larissa Weems xFem Wife!Shapeshifter!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smutty smut smut, shapeshifting d!cks (g!p), Hand jobs, blow jobs, d!ck riding, car sex, restroom sex, semi-public sex, teasing, pet names, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Oh Darling, Please do come with me…” Larissa cooed, batting her eyes at you.

“To the Mayor’s campaign dinner party…?” You clarified, displaying your disinterest.

“Yes. It would be far more enjoyable with you there…” she promised, stepping closer to you and caressing your check, “And… I’ll make it worth your while when we get back home…” she husked.

Shivers ran down your spine as you gazed into her piercing blue eyes.

How could you deny this woman anything?

“Ok…” you managed to say, nodding in agreement.

Larissa then stepped back, clasping her hands together.

“Wonderful! Well, we’ll need to get dressed and leave soon if we plan to be on time…” the blonde exclaimed, then mumbled.

You nodded along and smiled.

“And one more thing, Darling…” she spoke, her tone becoming hushed.

“What…?” You curiously asked.

Larissa’s lips suddenly kissed yours for what felt like a fraction of a second, pulling away until she was mere inches from your skin.

“I want you packing tonight…” she whispered mischievously, before pulling away.

You blushed and nodded, rendered semi-speechless once again.

“I… alright.” You stammered.

Larissa smiled brightly at your agreement.

You two then finished your separate work, before you started getting dressed. You out on your go-to suit and waited for Larissa downstairs. You also shapeshifted your core as your wife had requested. Larissa then came down. She was wearing a stunning blue, wrap around dress. Your eyes couldn’t get enough. It hugged her curves in all the right way.

“Oh my…” you breathed out, your heart already racing “you look… breath taking, just beautiful…”

Larissa blushed at your words, coming over to give you a thank you kiss.

“Thank you, Darling.” She purred, “Although I’m sure you cannot wait to take it off of me later this evening…” she breathed huskily down your neck.

Chills ran down your spine at the blonde’s words. Sparks of electricity washed over you and right down to your currently very apparent member. You cleared your throat and regained your composure, and you were ready to go, trying to play your reaction off as nothing.

But Larissa knew she had gotten to you…

The drive wasn’t so bad at first. You were driving while Larissa gave you the download on who would be there. But quite quickly, it became harder and harder to concentrate as her hand began to wander and draw circle on your thigh.

“—And of course the Sheriff will be there, along with…” she continued, but your mind wasn’t paying much attention, as her fingers had toyed their way to your underwear line.

Your crotch was slowly bulging. It made you blush furiously, and Larissa smirked wickedly. But before Larissa went any further than teasing or you had time to start begging her, you had arrived. You had to take a deep breath and regain your calm before exiting the vehicle and entering the dinner party.

Larissa and you walked in together, arms linked. She led you around the party, introducing you to all the important and key figures that she thought you ought to know. And then it was time for dinner. You all sat down at the many tables. You and Larissa were sat with four other individuals at your table. The mayor got up to give his speech, which you originally had planned to listen to…

Before Larissa started playing scandalous footsie with you. Your breath hitched as her feet began to explore you legs, moving her touch higher and higher. Then she added her hand to your thigh again. The combination made you lightly dizzy and you had to bite your lip to restrain yourself.

And then the dinner conversation began… That brought a whole other level of challenge to the evening. And throughout all table conversations, Larissa never once let up on her under the table teasings. Her hand had traveled to you growing bulge at one point, nearly making you choke on your wine.

“Are you alright, Darling…?” Larissa concerningly asked you, placating her entire face in an innocent mask, while continuing to palm your twitchy, clothed member.

“I… Yes, sorry…” you choked out, trying to remember to take deep breaths, while giving your wife the side eye in warning.

Luckily, the dinner party soon moved into a lounge room with chairs and more open space. You took the time to breath and clear your head as best you could. You sat down, undoing your blazer button, with a sigh. But you didn’t get much peace, as the next thing you know, Larissa and a couple other high places people come in your direction. Without warning, Larissa sits on top of you.

“And this is my lovely wife, Y/N!” The blonde principal exclaimed, slightly tipsy.

They were all tipsy and didn’t seem to mind her bold action, viewing it as a sweet thing. But your eyes widened and you gulp, desperately trying to stay calm. Much to any of the other guests ignorance, Larissa’s ass was grinding down on your thrumming member. You could barely breathe. Your eyes were so close from rolling back, and a sinful groan was seconds from escaping your throat.

“Emm…” you coughed in interruption of the conversation that Larissa was carrying with the other guests, “You must excuse me. I need to use the restroom.” You explained with a tight strain in your voice.

Larissa’s eyes shimmered wickedly at your words, but she continued to to play innocent.

“Oh of course, Darling!” She said, immediately getting off of you, “Don’t mean to keep you” she said with a mischievous and knowing smirk.

You nod lightly, before scurrying out of the room. You walked the halls of the town hall, desperately looking for the restroom and thankfully finally finding it. Luckily it was a only stall, one person bathroom.

You shut the door and locked it, before immediately undoing your trousers, pulling out your aching dick, and stroking it a couple times. Your eyes rolled back and your sighed in relief. You had to bite your lip to keep quiet, but it was so worth it. Your pre-cum was already dribbling down your cock, getting your hands all sticky, but you could care less, as you worked yourself up with ease. Suddenly a loud rapture on the restroom door made you jump.

“Darling…” Larissa purred, “I know you are in there, let me in.”

You panted, quickly putting your dick away and cleaning up yourself before answering the door. With the door open, Larissa came forward, backing you into the bathroom. Her eyes raked up and down your frame. Your pupils were dilated. You were panting. Your cheeks were flushed, your hands clammy.

“Doing something…?” She teasingly purred, backing against the door to close it and lock it.

“I… just using the restroom…” you breathed out anxiously.

Larissa hummed skeptically in response. She began moving towards you again, trapping you against the wall.

“Your fly is undone, Darling…” she wickedly quipped, tilting her head and smirking, “Let me fix that for you…”

Oh Shit…

Before you could say anything else, your wife had already undone your trouser button, and her hand was deep in your pants, palming your throbbing dick. You let out a desperate groan in response to Larissa’s actions, your head smashing against the wall as you grinded needily against her hand.

“Ohhhh… Is this what you want…?” Larissa teased, now haven taken your member fully out and stroking it, not holding back anymore.

“God Larissa please…” you pleaded with your eyes screwed shut.

“Nuh uh uh…” she tutted in reminder, “Eyes open, Darling.”

You groaned once more and opened your eyes, meeting the blonde’s lustful, playful gaze. Her hand stroked your shapeshifted dick faster. And her face told you how much pleasure and how much she got off on this…

“Please please please…” you chanted, begging the woman.

“Alright… How about this…?” Larissa tauntingly purred in your ear, “I’ll let you cum once right here and in return… you suck me off in the car”

Your stomache dropped at her words. That was even more public… What if you got caught? You’d never had sex in the car before… But God, did you want to cum so badly!!

“Yes yes deal…!!” You groaned, nodding vigorously.

Larissa smiled big at your words. Her hand tightened its hold on your cock, making you have to bite down and muffle the guttural groan that ripped through your throat, as you came all over your wife’s hand. Your whole body was thrumming with pleasure. Your mouth hung open in satisfaction, and your dick went silent, obviously very satisfied with the outcome of the last 15 minutes. Shapeshifting back to you normal cunt gave you a relief and the ability to sigh in content.

“Excellent…” The blonde lustfully hummed, while helping you over and back down from your high.

The woman then helped you clean up, as well as herself, and the two of you went back out to the party. You two were quick to excuse yourselves when it seemed for to do so, as you both had more pressing concerns. Larissa eagerly led you by hand back to the car. You both got in, breathless.

By now, you could see Larissa’s apparent bulge… You gulped and stared wide eyed the woman sitting in the driver seat next to you. The blonde looked at you expectantly, but when you didn’t do anything, she took matters into her own hands. She easily picked you up and placed you at her feet, slipping her dress up to her thighs, revealing that she wasn’t wearing any knickers… As well as her own apparent dick.

You instinctually licked your lips at the sight. You got up on your knees and immediately licked a stripe from the base to the tip, catching some of her salty pre-cum. Larissa’s head flew back almost violently, as she let quite the sinful moan slip from her lips. You stopped licking her cock to remind her to keep it down.

“Shhhh, Darling… I like you better with a mouthful of my cock…” Larissa groaned.

You nearly moaned at your wife’s words, your own cunt starting to collect slick. You then took the blonde’s dick into your mouth all the way, in one fall swoop. You nearly chocked at its size.

“Breathe, Sweet girl…” Larissa reminded you, followed by a desperate, guttural moan, “God—! You look so pretty sucking me off…!!”

You moaned in response, starting to bob up and down on her dick. Larissa’s hand weaved into your hair, pushing you down only further. You remembered to breathe many times, as the woman nearly brought you to the chocking point many times, guiding you in a brutal pace. Larissa breathed heavily, at this point, jerking her hips and fucking your mouth sloppily.

“D-darling… Mmmm gonna cum…!!” Larissa groaned loudly.

You groaned in response, only quickening your pace, and encouraging the blonde to let go. Larissa came with her loudest cry yet, squirting her hot seed into your mouth. You licked the woman clean, as she slowly gathered her bearings. She eventually released your head from her vice grip. You then looked up at Larissa, mouth full of cum.

Larissa chuckled, bringing one of her fingers to your chin, wiping the excess cum off of it and stuffing it in your mouth. You moaned at the action, and she chuckled.

“Swallow. Don’t waste any of it.” The blonde told you.

You immediately obeyed and swallowed the entire load.

“Good girl…” Larissa breathlessly husked.

Your stomache sunk at her words. And your breath hitched.

“Yes…” you panted, “I’m your good girl…”

Larissa gazed down at you in delight.

“Take your trousers and knickers off, sweet girl…” she purred.

“I… um ok.” You stammered, getting up and shimmying your bottom half of clothing off.

When you were half nude, you presented yourself to the blonde. She smirked and picke you up, placing you on her lap.

“Such a good girl…” Larissa cooed, before lining up your slick cunt with her soaked cock and slowly sinking you down on her member, “But you’ll have to try and be quiet, Darling…”

You batted your eyelashes heavily and your eyes rolled back at her actions.

“Says the woman who just cried out because of my mouth… Ohhhhh…” you chuckled which quickly turned into a guttural groan.

Larissa looked at you, taking your words as a challenge. She then pulled you all the way down on her, abruptly bottoming you out.

“Oh Fuck GOD SHIT—!!!” You practically screamed, clinging onto Larissa for dear life.

The blonde chuckled in response, clearly happy with her work. She then began slamming up into you. This only made your cries of pleasure worse.

“You were saying…?” She eagerly teased.

“Shut up…” you grumbled, “and go harder.”

“My pleasure, Darling…” Larissa moaned into your ear.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist