#god cursed me so that I may have all the ideas dancing in my head but the language they speak is not one I was taught

[vmkhoneyy]

that specific breed of writers block where u can SEE the ideas dancing around behind a wall of frosted glass but there’s no door to open it by. someone give me a crowbar.

[yaut-jaknowit]

It's All About Size

Pairings: Mai'tuiudh (Male Yautja) x Male Reader

Warnings: very suggestive themes, HEAVY size kink, sprinkles of praise, mlm, horny reader

Word Count: 1981

Summary: You're new to the realm of living out in space, stuck with only one other person on the ship. A large, blue Yautja, who trains on a regular basis. He easily dwarfs you. You're tall for a human but not for this Yautja. It's been brewing within your mind for a while now, ever since he picked you up from earth. Mia'tuiudh isn't as oblivious as you may hope he is. You won't be complaining in the end.

Author Note: I was scrolling through the Yautja tag when I stumbled upon an amazing idea. Yautja's and size kink. It's a main thing about them. Also, if you guys got ideas, don't be afraid to shove them into my inbox. It's currently open. I'm happy to write!

P.S. I'm still new to writing same-sex relationship's. If you guys can give me help, that would be amazing! Thank you

Dedicated to @kissmyaft. Thank you for this wonderful idea! You should check out my masterlist, wink-wink. Most of my stuff is gender neutral, just look at the pairings :)

Masterlist

Ao3

The calming noise of a blade sliding through a sharpener washed over you. It’s handle held firmly within your grasp. You weren’t no hunter, compared to the bulky beast honing his skills before you. That didn’t stop him from teaching the ways to be a hunter. If you were going to be on his ship, share his bed and food, you were going to learn. That’s what he told you on the first day.

Said alien danced before you, knocking a drone away from him. Another came up to zap at his glistening scales yet the Yautja was already in motion. Your eyes watched as he easily defended himself from these sparring drones.

Blood started to head south within your body. Even as tall as you are for a man, Mai’tuiudh towered over you. You haven’t met any others of his kind. It made you wonder if he average or not for his own height. Not that it bothered you. Not at all.

Red dusted your cheeks once you felt your pants tighten. Curses already formed within your head as you spun around. You faced the workbench in the back of the sparring room and focused on sharping the hunting knife in your hand.

Mai stopped what he was doing when an ambrosial scent washed over him. A drone was able to zap him on the back. Pain shocked through his system, but he didn’t even feel it. The smell drawing him in.

With a short click of his tusks, the drones stopped moving. They quietly returned back to their holes in the wall. His eyes shot over to the only other being on his ship. A minute smirk growing on his mandibles. Mai has had theories about the ooman. But this sealed his fate to Mai.

Long strides of powerful legs carried Mai easily over to oblivious ooman. Mai was a Yautja of action. He wasn’t about to dance around the ooman. But at the same time, why not tease you? Have some fun along the way. Oh, that thought made his chest rumble.

You tensed at the impossibly close noise, head snapping towards the origin. A gasp almost tore at your throat. There, in all his glory, stood Mai’tuiudh. His navy-blue chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Moisture stuck to his scales like a second skin; not sweat but humidity from the ship. Burnt orange eyes set on you. Your lips pressed together at the sight before you.

It took all of your willpower not to let your knees collapse underneath you. That didn’t stop them from shaking. “Hey-hey, uh, hey. Um, so. What’s up?” God, you were a mess. Just at the sight of him and you were acting like you were asking a girl out back in middle school.

Yet, the blue Yautja didn’t say anything. Mai just kept watching you with those striking eyes of his. His mandibles barely twitched.

Confused, maybe a little worked up too, you slowly turned back around to the work bench. It wasn’t unusual for the Yautja to be silent. He was a hunter after all. Yet, you were suspicious of his actions. But, these knives and whatnot won’t sharpen themselves. He’ll either get bored or finally speak when he wanted to.

Hands rested on your hips. Warmth washed over your back as a blazing body pressed up into you. A gasp finally scratched at your throat. Your hands slapped down on the metal bench and try to grasp it. Heat raced through your veins at the feeling of him. “Ma-Mai, what a-“ his claws start to press into your skin. You force yourself to bite your bottom lip to stop from moaning.

Your growing erection jumped at the feel of Mai. Said alien made it worse. Mai tugged you flushed with his moist scales and placed his jaw on top of your head. One of his arms slid around your torso and held you there. Shit, he’s so big.

He tasted the heavy air and let his chest rumbled. You smelled divine, right for the taking. Yet, he stayed there. “Aren’t you suppose to be sharpening my weapons?” he purred into your ear. Your entire body trembled, one that he relished in. Mai felt his own body behave in return at yours.

“It’s, it’s really ha-hard to focus… when you’re pres-sed up against me,” you stuttered, hands shakily reaching out to grasp the sharpener. Paya, if he knew you were going to react like this, he should’ve done this a long time ago. He’s had his suspicions for awhile now. It was many rotations after you joined him.

Mai ignored what you had told him. “Tell me, why are you behaving this way? If you do, I’ll let you go.” You didn’t want him to let go. On the other hand, to save yourself the growing embarrassment, you would be forced to tell him. If only the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Worst of all, it had to be the truth as well. Mai could smell when you lied.

A short purr rumbled from his chest. The vibrations rolled over your sensitive skin before hitting your hardening cock. Your eyes rolled back, throat closing before any sounds could escape. You bite your bottom lip so hard you tasted blood. Oh fuck, you were in some deep trouble now. You couldn’t trust your voice now, without making a noise that would embarrass you.

The Yautja made a soft noise and peered over your shoulder to look you in the eye. When you absolutely refused to do that, head turned away, he purred again. Same reaction from your body.

Fuck! You had to get him off of you. Now. He was far stronger than you, had the height advantage, and skills to put you face first into the ground. God, that made everything worse.

With reddened cheeks and no dignity left, you spilled what you hidden deep. “Size kink!” you shouted at first, voice two notches higher. “I have a-a size kink, alright?” Those words were said with such defeat. At the same time though, it felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Though, the embarrassment now would kill you.

Since you finally exposed yourself to the only other being on this spaceship, you believed he would release you. No, he didn’t. Mai tightened his grasp and placed his chin back on your head. “Hmm, you like the fact I’m bigger than you? Stronger than you? The fact I can easily dominate you?” He was loving every second of this. One of your hands grasped at the one on your stomach. His claws biting into your skin when you did. How did he know? Those words…

“Ever since I’ve been to earth, I’ve done my fair share of reading. A smart hunter researches before the hunt,” he mumbled. The hand on your stomach petting at the skin there. Your hormones were going haywire at this point.

That means he’s known almost this entire time.

Since that day, things have changed. You had spilled your hidden secret to him, one he’ll forever tease you about. You, a ooman, loving his size and strength. Though, nothing happened afterwards. You were nervous on the whole ordeal. That doesn’t stop him from randomly coming up behind you, hands skating over your skin. Purrs vibrating your skin. It makes you ache for him. But you never had the balls to ask or even suggest such a thing.

Water dripped down the toned body of Mai’tuiudh. The blue Yautja shook his head, droplets splashing about in the washroom. His dark tresses slapping against his hide. Your eyes refused to move away from his handsome frame; no matter how hard you tried. Everything about him screamed power.

His perfectly shaped ass was facing you as the Yautja bent over to pick his discarded loin cloth up. You would happily take a bite out of it. Your eyes widened at that thought. With a disappointing huff to yourself, you refocused on the tablet before you. Sometimes you could be unhinged.

The familiar musk Mai produced washed over you. You took in a deep breath at that and softly closed your eyes. It’s heavy and fills the room due to the humidity.

There was the soft pitter-patter of Mai’s wet feet as he moved around. Mai dropped his loin cloth somewhere to the side then headed towards you. You didn’t think much of it as you opened your eyes and continued screwing about on your tablet. A simple game pulled up for the fun of it. You have to keep yourself busy or else you’ll go made out here in space.

Two blue legs appeared in the edge of your vision. A brow was softly raised at this but you held strong. If you happened to look up, you might get caught looking. He would tease you all over again.

Mai just stood there, burning eyes set solely on you. His hands twitched at his sides. He wanted you to want him the same way he does. The ache that resonated deep within his bones. It made him want to touch you, tease your softer skin, lick it. Draw out those light noise you believe he doesn’t hear while you’re in the bathroom alone. He wanted to fill you, keep you close in his arms. Be his mate.

With two easy strides down further into the concave bed, he knelt down between your open legs. You kept your eyes glue to the device in hand. Your body tensed, hands grasping the tablet a little too hard. What in the world was he doing?!

Blue fingers wrapped around the top of the tablet and pushed it down. When you still refused to look him in the eye, he used that same hand to tilt your chin up at him. Your eyes locked onto his almost immediately, biting your bottom lip at the sight.

He continued to crawl forward, staying on the balls of his feet. As he did so, you were forced to lay back on the pelts around you. “Good boy,” he whispered and placed his free arm next to your head. At those words, your brain short circuited. All you could hear was him chuckling.

When a warm palm touched your thigh, you snapped back to reality, gazing up at the large Yautja. Mai snaked his hand up, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt. Claws skated over your sensitive stomach before stopping. His entire paw covered almost all of your belly, thumb gently stroking the skin there. He leaned down, creating a curtain with his tresses around the two of you. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this. I’ll stop,” he clicked lowly, eyes boring into yours.

You took great notice of him. His bulky body hovering over yours, easily swallowing you in his shadow. Hand able to take up almost all of your stomach. If he wanted to, he could easily pin you down and fuck you with his size alone; plus his strength, you would never stand a chance against him. No, instead, he was asking.

One final look into his burnt orange eyes. You reached out, discarding the tablet to the side, and hooked your arm around the back of his neck. “Please don’t stop.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Heretic's Confession, Chapter One

CW: Captivity whump, some... implications... references to branding. This is just me getting a feel for the idea and character, though, really.

-

The robes he once kept pristine are caked in dried mud around the hem. Grigory frowns as he inspects them, rubbing along the seam. It flakes away, leaving imprints of itself behind. 

Maudlin, certainly, but it feels like the stain of their sins painting his soul.

Maybe suffering can give even a man of the Goddess the sentiment of a poet. His lip curls in disgust at the very thought.

Please, please speak to me, Dromada. Tell your priest what he must do to escape this nightmare.

She is, and has always been, silent to his pleas for Her assistance. 

The Goddess the people worship may be a paragon of compassion and forgiveness, her sculptures solemn and grave with hands outstretched to embrace even the lowest-born of Her children, but Grigori is beginning to suspect the holy men have got it wrong. 

She isn't gracefully wise. She does not reach Her hand out to hold Her children. No, as each day passes without Her so much as whispering a reassurance, he begins to feel She is th goddess of laughter, and he is Her current favorite joke.

A knock at the door to his room - his cell, really, but of course they all like to pride themselves on keeping him in high style in his gilded cage - has him looking up, a little startled. The moon has only made half of its trek across the night sky, through the looping swirls of galaxies far, far beyond the reach of mere mortal men. That milky spin of stars, everyone knows, is where the gods live.

He wonders how many of them are looking down on him, sipping crystalline waters, and mocking his pain.

He would spit on every last temple step, if he could.

If he could just leave the fucking room-

“Brother Grigori,” His guest singsongs, half-dancing into the room. Grigory turns away from him, laying one palm over one of the iron bars that blocks any escape through the window. His fingers close slowly around it. 

“What do you want.” His voice is curt, it cuts short and sharp. “Bastard.”

“Oh, see you got my name all wrong again.” The leader of this little gang is tall - too tall - and all knees and legs, lean muscle making him heavier than he looks. Grigori is tall enough for a man, but he seems like he’s half-grown, compared to the bandit. The man’s hair is a shock of white atop his head, shaved on the sides, while Grigori’s curly brown grows to the bottom of his ears, as is prescribed for the priests. He swaths himself in black kohl around his equally dark eyes and shining black leather worn back to brown from age and ill-use at the knees and elbows. Grigori’s hazel and his dirtied robes look like a joke, placed next to the bandit’s appearance.  “It’s Bohli, remember? Or that’s what my mother calls me, anyway. Or she would, if she were still alive. She probably uses that when she curses my name from the heavens above, granted. I mean, probably, unless she really is suffering in the Dark After, like she deserves-”

“What do you want, Bohli?” Grigory’s head is already starting to hurt. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Nonsense. You have all the time in the world. You have nothing but time.”

“Not for… you. Please leave.”

“Nope. Not going anywhere. This is my house, remember? I just let you stay here.”

“Let me.” The words are sour in Grigori’s mouth. “Right, of course. Let me. Because I asked to be branded and trapped here in this room-”

“Hush. I take you for walkies every day, little god’s dog.” Bohli winks, and Grigori - who took a vow of pacifism, once - imagines stabbing his own knife through his eyeball until it comes out the other side of his head. “If you don’t want a leash, you just have to prove you won’t run off.”

He would, of course. Run. Outside, the woods stretch far and wide. There’s a path he could take to find a village, to find freedom...

Or… more realistically… to get arrested for being in league with Bohli and his bastards, which he isn’t, but everyone knows the goddess would save Her most faithful, and he’s been here too long. He would be branded a heretic. Everyone knows he’s a heretic. His own fellow priests would turn their backs on him. The people would burn him at the stake, for being defiled, degraded, a paragon of nothing but the filth they have covered him in. Little more than a bandit himself. 

Maybe he is one.

Dromada would have saved him if he were truly Hers to save. And instead, here he is, the infamous giver of absolution to the men and women who massacre whole towns in defiance of - in direct insult to - the power and might of His Majesty, the King.

No. he would be burned as an enemy of the King's, and he would have no standing to defend himself. A captive this long isn't a captive at all, in the eyes of the world.

Just a man who no longer wants to be saved.

Tears prick at his eyes, and he struggles not to let Bohli see them and mock him even more. It’s not like he hasn’t already been marked. It was one of the first things they did. Bohli had given the order and watched while they tied him down. Grigori himself had been made to look as they put the iron in the fire, made to watch them heat it to red. Bohli had been whispering in his ear when when they pressed it to his pelvis, and Bohli had cooed over him while he screamed, stroking through his sweaty hair.

“Just leave,” He whispers, the area aching all over again. They branded him over the symbol of Dromada tattooed, a mark of his vow of chastity.

Another one broken.

Maybe that was when She stopped listening.

“Oh, but I can’t, darling Grigori. I’ve come to make a confession.” Bohli laughs, and his laughter could make you bleed even better than his blade. But somehow Grigori can’t seem to die from the loss. “Isn’t that why I keep a priest of Dromada around, anyway? For to save my poor mortal soul?”

Grigori fights the urge to wish aloud someone would poison the asshole’s food. “You would burn if you touched the Hem of her robe.”

“Maybe.” Bohli shrugs, kicking a chair over and dropping down into it, loose-limbed. His eyes spark with delight as he takes in Grigori’s misery. “But you wear Her robes, and yet I never burn when I touch you-”

“Speak your confession,” Grigory snaps, his heart twisting and going briefly silent and still in his chest. He feels blood rush to his face, and Bohli’s peal of bright, brittle laughter tells him the flush isn’t going unnoticed. 

“Say it.” Bohli watches him, and it’s like being watched by one of the terrifying big cats that roam the woods just beyond this hideous prison. Unblinking, a predator’s stare. “Say the words, priest.”

Each time he does, they feel more bitter on his tongue. 

But still.

Grigori draws the ruins of his robe closer around himself, and sits up straight. He swallows and sets his jaw. “Bohlinde hir Maksma en Ygridsen, the goddess Dromada hears and forgives all from those who love Her. You have only to ask. Speak, child, and be forgiven.”

Bohli licks his lips, leaning forwards. Somehow, Grigori can’t make himself look away. The bandit leader’s teeth are sharp - those canines can rend skin from bone. He’s part-elf, they say, somewhere in his bloodline the half-mindless shrieking hordes of the elven race lurk. You can always tell, so it’s said, from the sharpness of their teeth. From how little they care for the lives of men.

Maybe he’s half-elf.

It would explain why he’s so fucking smug.

“Forgive me, Dromada’s Chosen, for I have sinned against Her,” Bohli says, and he doesn’t even try to feign sincerity. Why he even plays this game, when Dromada isn’t a goddess for the elves of their wretched offspring to begin with, is beyond Grigori’s understanding.

Grigori fights the urge to sigh. He makes Dromada’s Sign, wondering if it even calls to Her any longer. If She even feels the spark of a follower’s call, or if he’s cut off from Her entirely. Who hears him when he prays?

Does anyone?

“How have you sinned against Our Mother, She Who Gave the Waters?” 

Bohli licks his lips. His smile is a little too wide, shows too many of those sharp, sharp teeth. He'd be blisteringly handsome, if it weren’t for the sight of fangs where none should be. “I won’t lie, Brother Grigori. I set some stuff on fire yesterday. And I’m going to do it again. Will I be forgiven?”

Grigori imagines the mud climbing higher and higher up his robes, pulling him into the earth, forcing itself down his mouth and pressing over his eyes. He imagines the gods in the sky, looking down from their stars.

The image shatters with the memory of first sitting at the table with the dozen or so of Bohli's favorites, each of them smiling at him, while he sat in his pure white robes and felt himself bared, as if naked, before them.

Until Bohli had given the order for what to do with him.

“Dromada forgives all who seek Her,” Grigori intones, thoughtless. The words memorized before he was even thirteen years old, before he was old enough to take his vows. Before he was taken, and they were all broken, one by one. Bohli loved breaking Grigori's vows. “You have only to ask.”

“Good.” Bohli’s voice drops low. He has to focus to hear it, which is probably the bastard’s entire point. “Because I really, really love asking, and I love the sound of your answers.”

The bandit stands, walking over to him, putting one finger under his chin and forcing Grigori to look up - and up, and up, and up - to see the demon smile.

Grigori is sure, as Bohli watches him with his head tipped to the side and his black eyes as bright as the stars, that he can hear the goddess laughing.

[sorendeimos]

Forgive Me Father

A little random idea of Severus returning to church after learning of the prophecy and being failed by not only two masters but a third.

The war was well underway when he heard the prophecy. It was hearing it, then relaying it, that made him switch sides. He heard the words spoken in that droning rasp, and something began to shift in his mind. Not fast enough to stop him, no mercy wasn’t that swift, but enough so that when he knelt at the feet of a false god, Severus felt fear and shame trickle down his spine. As realization struck, he knew he had to run, knew he had to save Her, had to save Them. He fled. He ran to their leader, begging for help, for absolution, for mercy for Them if not for himself, and he found false hope. He turned to the light as a spy. He reoriented himself as a man of faith, believing this double life would be penance enough for his sin. He was wrong. ---- ‘I have coveted, I have yearned, I have lied…’ He took a shaky breath, calloused hands gripping tighter to the rosary beads between his clasped palms. ‘I have killed, I have hurt, I have tainted. All in your name, which I thought right and just… I see now how I was wrong.’ The beads in his hands swayed slightly with his trembling, the effects of the curse still electrifying and tensing his muscles down to the bone and licking white-hot pain across his nerves. This was divine retribution, he knew that, so he made no sound of protest. The beads in his hands swayed slightly with his trembling, the effects of the curse still electrifying and tensing his muscles down to the bone and licking white-hot pain across his nerves. This was divine retribution, he knew that, so he made no sound of protest. ‘I beseech you, o Father, show Me the ways in which I may atone My sins and regain a place at your side…’ Severus felt a bead of sweat trail down his spine, leaving a chill to dance along in its wake. His robes were caked in blood and dirt. His face turned up to the window. His cheeks bore tear tracks cutting through dirt and ash. He was a mess, kneeling before the stained-glass that shone down on him in a vicious mockery of hope, of forgiveness. His collar, pristine hours ago now was stained. ‘Please… I’ll do anything… just show Me the path…’ He sat there for what felt like forever and no time at all before a wail brought him out of his thoughts. A cry that was trapped in his skull. ‘Severus you have to take him…’ ‘How can I when I’m the one that caused his cries?’ ‘Because She would want you to.’ He let out a sob, his head dropping again before he lifted his hands, unsure when they’d fallen to his lap and ran them over his face, then stood. ‘He will be safe with Us. You’ll be coming too. We both have sins to answer for, wolf.’ ‘We have much to atone for.’

[elegantsplendour]

Dance of the Empire

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister! oc x Aegon II Targaryen

Summary:

Sometimes, love can be just as destructive as hate.

Especially the politics of the realm rip away an all-consuming love; especially when demons of the second-son are unleashed by thirst of retribution and power.

Our choices have consequences.

Warnings:

eventual -> manipulation, sexual content, dub con, angst, violence and death. Warnings at beginnings of each chapter.

Masterlist

Taglist: @heavenly1927 @marvelescvpe @buglyberry @apollonshootafar @theroyaldixon @aemondx

Chapter 7: A Maze of Fear and Disdain

When Aegon Targaryen shut the door behind his chamber abruptly, almost in a violent way, he plumped on his bed.

Fuck. The unpleasant smell.

Weren’t the maids supposed to have cleaned his sheets already?

Damn it, Dyana, he cursed to himself.

A knock on the door.

The young servant, caught off guard by his presence, bowed, “My prince,” she exclaimed, “Forgive me for not completing my duties in time. I didn’t expect you to be back so early in the day.”

He rolled his eyes and skimmed her body, a habit he had grown a long time ago, a time he didn’t remember.

Time, weather, women, scoldings, everything seemed to be a blur to him since perhaps thirteen.

Perhaps the year Aemond had lost his eye.

“It’s fine. Just come back later during dinner,” he drifted his gaze away from her and murmured, “My mother expects us all.”

The girl sighed subtly in relief and asked, “Of course, my prince. Would you like me to fetch a cup of wine as usual?”

Aegon hesitated, “No,” he needed his mind clear to process the events of that day, “Go to the kitchen and get a lemon cake for you and Florence. Tell them it’s by my permission, you two deserve a break.”

What did she mean the people in this city are living like dogs?

Aegon had no idea. He covered his head in the pillows in annoyance.

Who gives a fuck?

But my maids are not dogs.

They can’t be.

I won’t allow them to be.

Not if they eat lemon cakes.

Dogs don’t get to eat sweets.

Dyana stood frozen before responding, “Oh…” she uttered, “Thank- Thank you, my prince. Florence and I are grateful.”

When the young prince was left alone in his majestic chamber adorned by the luxurious smell of fine wasted wine and food, he pulled his head from the pillows and sighed facing the ceiling.

“Maybe you enjoy this fleet a little bit too much.”

Aegon reached for his wine cup in annoyance like a habit only to find it empty with a stinking odour.

What did she mean by this fleet?

The Crown?

The games?

The Red Keep?

Thank the gods, he scoffed, may this fleet of fear and disdain be drown.

Not a day in the twenty years of Aegon’s life did he not go without being warned of the delicious promise of execution by his half sister, from his mother and grandsire.

What in the Seven Hells did I do?

Being born?

If I were to die one way or another, I’m simply taking advantage of this nauseous fleet while I can.

He drifted away from the bed and moved lazily to the desk, filled with messy scrolls of Valyrian text that the maesters assigned him to recite.

I try so hard, but it will never be enough for them.

“I prefer to be the master of my own fate.”

How bold of her?

He thought, frowning.

A Lannister first born daughter of the Lord of Casterly Rock, ready to be married to whoever her family decides, trying to master her own fate, by what?

Debasing herself to attend to the low born mass?

Aegon shook his head.

He stared at himself in the mirror. His hair messy, face stained by a trace of dirt. He snuffed his shirt and chuckled.

Ah the adorable face she made when she complained that he smelled of ale and wine.

That was no face of a lionesse.

It was the face of a kitten.

“My Prince, please do not forget your mother is expecting you at dinner,” Ser Arryk’s voice reached him from outside of the chamber door.

Dinner, right.

“Oh,” he replied with annoyance.

“Damn it, dinner,” he cursed while kicking the pillow that had fallen from the bed.

Another occasion to humiliate him.

Publicly, in front of Aemond.

How wonderful, mother.

Sometimes, he questioned whether Alicent found comfort in her scoldings as she scrutinized every misdeed of his life.

Aegon got used to it anyways.

How bad could it be?

A slap on his face in front of Aemond and grandsire?

Not possible, he was after all reached twenty. Striking him in front of the servants would undoubtedly undermine his authority in the castle, not that he had any.

But it’s all about the appearance.

He shrugged his shoulders as he placed himself in a relaxing bath.

Fuck.

Aemond would bring her.

As if enduring dear mother’s ancient prophecy of Rhaenyra placing him and his siblings to sword wasn’t torturous enough. He’d have to relive that dreadful conversation he overheard between Otto and Alicent.

It is their duty, my daughter. As king and queen, an union between Aegon and Helaena would keep the Valyrian bloodline pure.

When I am cold in my grave. I will not allow my daughter to endure such torment and shame. And may gods help whoever is to marry my wretched son.

Being the future queen of Seven Kingdoms is hardly a torment or a shame, Alicent. You know that.

Do I, father? I accepted whatever you impressioned me that I wanted. Helaena is not just a Targaryen princess. She is my girl, my daughter! She is to marry the Lord of Highgarden, Edwyn Tyrell, it is decided.

My queen, please reconsider.

You are excused, Lord Hand.

Flouncing away from his mother’s chamber and wiping off his tears, a storm of emotions raged in Aegon’s head three years ago.

A part of him was relieved from the horror of the duty of bedding his sister.

The other part wanted to cry uncontrollably in his pillows or in someone’s arms.

Such a privilege he could not afford.

Shame.

Torment.

Gods help the future wife of my wretched son.

The words haunted him like an unbreakable curse every day that followed that fateful night.

What have I done to bring shame or torment?

It was a simple answer in his mind.

Being born.

Aemond was soon to marry that beautiful, odd, sharp-witted Lannister lady who had the face of a kitten and the laughter of a lioness.

And him, the first born, the future heir, unmarried and unbetrothed, was a living implication that his future lady wife would be a screaming and extremely high born lady who must have spent two days weeping and begging her family to annul the wedding at no avail before being dragged into the Grand Sept.

Sometimes, Aegon wondered if that’s exactly what happened to his mother, which would explain why she bore such a raw bitterness towards him.

Perhaps it was because his father wasn’t considerate about her well-being on the wedding ni-

Ugh.

He ceased his thoughts with disgust before continuing brushing his hair frustratedly.

After some effort, he managed to present himself well and left his chamber.

Stepping in the dining room, Aegon raised his brows in surprise as he only found his grandsire and mother at the table, the two empty seats on the side seemed more noticeable than ever.

Settling down, avoiding Alicent’s gaze, he hummed nonchalantly, “Usually I am the late one around here.”

Otto continued skimming through the report sent by his son in Old Town while Alicent looked at him for a brief moment before sipping her wine and started a conversation with her father.

The silence was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

It was them.

There was a rare smile on his little brother’s face that Aegon had not seen for years.

Of course, it was well reserved and composed as usual, but genuine liveliness and care cracked from his intense gaze on Katherine was undeniable.

“Pardon our lateness, mother,” Aemond bowed slightly as he and Katherine took their seats, “Grandsire.”

“Another ride on Vhagar, my son?” Alicent smiled at both of them tenderly.

“And clearly without changing your attire,” Aegon jested while covering his nose.

“I can be quite demanding for time of adventures when it comes to flying on Vhagar,” Katherine beamed as she raised her cup to the table, “I was occupied earlier today with familial duties from Casterly Rock today, Prince Aemond was patient enough to fetch me this ride.”

She glanced at Aegon and subtly nodded smiling in gratefulness for keeping her secret.

“Ever the dutiful daughter, Lady Lannister,” Otto raised his cup in response.

A sly smile crept on Aemond’s lips at the word dutiful.

Aegon held back his smirk too at the unspoken events of that day.

Alicent frowned slightly at the atmosphere in the room and diverged the conversation, “Aegon, how many duels have you won in this in the training yard?”

“I don’t recall, mother,” he focused on cutting the roasted duck on his plate, “You should ask Aemond. Maybe he can give you an account of his victories.”

Aemond only hummed at his answer, ever calm and refined.

Aemond doesn't need Ser Criston to repeatedly teach him the same technique that you've been taught countless times," her voice grew stern. "Do you know what the common people say of you? They call you the Prince of Dragons and Brothels.

“I expect you to attend to your other duties other than flying on Sunfyre to the middle of nowhere.”

Aegon clenched the silk of his robe at her mother’s words and rolled his eyes provocatively, “Better I enjoy my privileges before my dear half-sister puts me to sword, shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” he retorted, “Maybe when that day comes, my bond with Sunfyre would be so strong that he would be summoned in minutes.”

Otto responded coldly, “Your mother and I will work, have worked relentlessly to assure that day never comes, grandson. You will not run from your duties, your destiny. Have some decency to acknowledge the efforts of securing your birthright.”

Aegon’s fingers tightened on his cup as he saw the amused expression on his younger brother.

He wanted to lash out and storm away from the room.

But her doe eyes met the contained irritation of his own.

There was pity, understanding, a silent plea for him to contain his rage but also a nod of assurance.

Everything is going to be alright, I promise.

That was the message from her gaze, at least, that was what he thinks she meant.

Without a deep breath, he smiled again awkwardly at his grandsire and drank a generous amount of wine in his cup.

Just as his temper calmed down for a fleeting moment, his annoyance resurfaced instantly as he caught glance of Aemond tactfully rested his hand on her thigh.

Oh she blushed. She placed her hand on top of his and her eyes turned away from his gaze to meet Aemond’s, sparkling with a mixture of shyness, mischief and adoration.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” he stood up brusquely and excused himself.

He couldn’t care less about his family’s disapproval of his rude exit.

He knew they couldn’t stand him, just as he couldn’t stand their hypocrisy.

Oh there they were.

The most devoted defenders of propriety.

Judging him mercilessly for his escapades for pleasure among some low-born whores in the city, yet allowing Aemond to touch her, act so intimately without even establishing an official betrothal.

He pondered why the Lannisters could have agreed to such a humiliating affair.

The question plagued Aegon for weeks after that family dinner, witnessing Aemond and Katherine growing inseparable, their hands intertwined when strolling the garden, her forehead pressed against Aemond’s when pressure hits in the training yard, the stimulating conversations they engaged in the sanctuary of the library…

Aegon came to a painful realization.

Alicent was willing to bend the morals of propriety for Aemond’s happiness while chaining Aegon to locks and responsibilities not his choosing.

Was that his fate?

The fuck not.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Got another idea for your Fluff-Drabble Marathon... 😁 Thor (or someone of the other Avengers) tries to convince Loki to do a stag party, but he's totally annoyed and confused, like: A what? Why should I do that? That's stupid. 😂

Fluff Drabble Marathon II A link to my Fluff Library is HERE Warnings: Some mild language. Some naughty references. (w/c 700) A link to my regular Masterlist is HERE [18+]

Loki's Bachelor Party

Loki’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Brother, I’m not sure I understand…” he murmured warily, watching Thor’s excited eyes widen. “Oh Loki” he chided, “as I told you before, we will be celebrating your last night of freedom...Midgard style.” “What’s wrong with Asgard style?” the dark-haired god said questioningly, tilting his head. “A lute, some fine wine and nuts is all the celebration I require for my last night of ‘freedom’, brother...thank you.”

Loki re-centred his gaze to the book in his lap, hoping that would be the end of it. The volume was rudely swiped from his grasp, waved in the air by Thor like a childish prize. “I think not, brother.” he boomed, “I will be planning you a bachelor party the likes of which this realm has never seen. We cannot allow the infamous god of mischief to be wed without due homage to his many, many conquests and shenanigans, now can we?” he winked, as Loki rolled his eyes.

“Alright, tell me more about this...homage.” Loki murmured, leaning back against the sofa cautiously as Thor beamed above him. The blonde took a seat beside his brother on the sofa, getting a little to close for comfort as he geared up to reveal his daring plans. “I have been doing much research on the concept and it seems there are several key ingredients which must be adhered to in order for the adequate amount of mischief to be met…” he began, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Right…?” Loki drawled; his interest piqued. “Firstly, ostentatious garments.” Thor declared. “It is necessary to dress in a themed fashion which is both degrading and hilarious in equal measure. For instance, brightly coloured ill-fitting shirts adorned with startled cats...or as babes, diapers and all.” Loki stared at Thor’s expectant face, brimming with enthusiasm. “Absolutely not” he said vacantly, wondering how on earth he would survive the rest of this conversation. “Ok, ok…” Thor mumbled, “we can circle back to that...but you’ll love this one. Alcohol, brother...and lots of it. Ideally in a venue which caters to large crowds of rowdy men. With loud music. Many of them. A ‘bar crawl’ as it is so aptly named.” “Can I bring my own wine?” Loki said warily, watching his brother’s eyes narrow in frustration. “Brother, no” he sighed. “You will be positively bombarded with beverages of all flavours and strengths. Apple sours. Vodka. Tequila. And of course...my personal favourite, Jaegerbombs. The first round of those is on me.” he winked. Loki shuffled awkwardly on the sofa. He could tell that a concession was required in order to placate his brother, who was becoming more excited with each passing moment of his grand reveal. “Perhaps, yes. That would be fine. I do enjoy dancing with Y/N on occasion at those establishments so I am certain she will be a welcome distraction from the taste of midgardian alcohol.” Loki smiled, pleased at his diplomacy. His brow creased as he saw Thor’s eyes flicker to the side.

“Brother,” he whispered, “Y/N will not be in attendance. The most sanctified rule of a bachelor party is...as the name suggests, a covenant between men close to the groom. Men only.” he paused, thoughtfully “and maybe Romanoff.” Loki rolled his eyes, cursing the idiotic traditions of this realm of yours. “Which brings me on to the final aspect of this night to end all nights on the revel-o-meter…” Thor said coyly. There may as well have been a roll of drums, a flourish of trumpets to match the gravitas of his oafish sibling’s tone, Loki thought. “Strippers.” he announced smugly, waiting for Loki’s reaction. “Strippers?” Loki mumbled questioningly, “is that another hideous beverage I know not of?” It was Thor’s turn to roll his eyes. “Ravishing women removing their clothes seductively to music, brother. They parade themselves willingly in front of our merry band, and...special attention is always paid to the groom himself” he murmured knowingly, throwing another wink to Loki as he recoiled in disgust. “Why would I wish a strange woman’s unclothed body within my vicinity when I have true perfection in my own bed?” he questioned solemnly, as Thor’s enthusiastic smile fell. “Well?” Loki doubled down, his eyebrows raised judgementally as his brother squirmed. “It is...expected, Loki. It’s part of the midgardian trad-” “Oh to hell with midgardian tradition and it’s superfluous ridiculousness” Loki huffed, standing and swiping his book from Thor’s hand. “Where did you get all this boarish information from anyway?” “Stark…” Thor mumbled, staring at the ground and playing with the fabric of his trousers. “Right. Well you can tell Stark that my last night of freedom will be spent with our attendees enjoying some invigorating lute music, asgardian wine and the finest, succulent nuts from Vanaheim. There may be naked women only if Romanoff has too much wine and removes her clothes again, but that is not my concern. Understood?” Thor nodded regretfully, his eyes lighting with a final flourish of enthusiasm. “Brother, may we wear the shirts...with the startled cats?” Loki sighed. “Yes, brother...we may wear the shirts with the startled cats.”

Fluff Tags (reduced)

@lokischambermaid @lady-rose-moon @loopsisloops @xorpsbane @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @nightshadelm @michelleleewise @mochie85 @theaudacitytowrite @holdmytesseract @sititran @mcufan72 @yelkmelk @awkward-and-indecisive @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbs @gigglingtigger @demoiseller @chantsdemarins @lollywritesstuff @evelyn-kingsley @wheredafandomat @simplyholl @homesickcassie @ladylovesloki @lokikissesmyforehead @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @vbecker10

[streamingcolors-gvf]

Embrace of Venus

moodboard created by the wonderful @pennylanefics

Coming Soon…

Roman!Jake, Gladiator!Jake, Ancient Roman AU, Jake x ofc, Roman mythology, forbidden love, angst.

A/N: I am excited to announce this upcoming project! I do not have a set date for when it will be posted as I do have other current wip.

With the amazing AI content floating around, I was not able to shake Roman!Jake from my mind and decided I had to dive into this idea for a series.

Another note, obviously this will not be entirely historically accurate as it is not a research project, but I am doing my best to create this ancient world for y’all ❤️

Warnings: This series will contain 18+/adult themes and content including: cursing, alcohol and drug consumption, lots of mentions of blood and violence, injury, death, slavery, jealousy and angst, smut/sexually explicit content.

***as per usual, special shoutout to @allieboop and @welightthefire for all the support and letting me talk their ear off about this project ***

Teaser below …

The cheering of fifty thousand Romans boomed and bellowed within the grand structure of the Colosseum. The thunderous rolling shook the ground above them as if a fierce and mighty storm was brought in from the high seas by Neptune himself.

Many men pray and a few men cry in muffled whimpers as they stand at their feet wishing they were once young children at the comfort of their mother’s bosom.

Where are their mothers now? Are they weeping for the bloodshed of their sons or have they been long forgotten?

The owned and branded have been reduced to entertainment for the price of a coin, and they can do nothing but accept their outcome. The wailing of the weak and fearful are barely heard over the unruly crowd. It is consumed by the vile stench of piss, sweat and blood as it violates the nostrils of those waiting for their fate. 

For many men, this is the first and final day walking upon the blood-stained sands of the arena. A heavy sense of dread weighs them down when the reality of their unjust sentencing hangs suspended in the thick, humid air.

For Jacob, his eyes are dry, empty and void. He has found himself here before and has shed his fair share of hot tears. He knows they will not save him now. For him, the ultimate fight to the death was just another chance to earn his long-awaited freedom.

The short sword starts to feel heavy in his hand and his mouth begins to dry like the deserts he has once seen years ago. He fidgets with the coarse grains of sand between his calloused fingertips of the other. 

Yet, his hands are steadfast and eager.

In the dark underbelly of the ampitheatre, he allows his eyes to close as he clears his mind for what’s to come in the following seconds. Fond, distant memories are what plays behind his lids while he drowns out the soft cries of misery of those around him. Each breath is a calculated inhale and exhale, a grounding force to keep himself present. 

Weapons are beat against their shields in a pounding rhythm, mimicking the sounds of his pacing heart, and the men begin a haunting chant in unison.

It’s the last attempt to reign in the quickly dissolving courage they still might possess knowing the ultimate cross into the afterlife is not so distant for many of them. 

“May the gods be ever in your favor! Go die with honor!”

The shadows of guards dance behind the wooden slats of the door before them, hands ready to release the iron locks. They are at the gate, waiting for the grounds of the Earth to violently crack open and present the hellish depths of the underworld. 

The men go quiet as they hear the taunting sounds of Roman horns blaring from above, and they shake where they stand in despair at their announcement of the games. 

It is time. 

Jacob places the heavy and tarnished bronze helmet that is riddled with dents and imperfections upon his head, silently praying that this isn't the last time he feels its familiar weight. With his wooden shield in hand and sharpened steel in the other, he searches for that fleeting moment of serenity. 

TAGLIST:

@josiee-gvf @gabyvanfleet @ageofbrokenbells @gretasmokerising @prophetofthedune @gardensgatedaisy @lek-gvf @baguettejuliette @ashabeannn @daniellefersblog @seventieswhore @lo-pe-ak @sammiejane22 @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @pr41sethemoon @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavanfleas @freckled-wonder @gvfrry @myownparadise96 @jordierama @mywaykiszka @jmksbuttsupremacy @weightofdreamz @maverick-rose @brokenbellz @jakekiszmyass @milkgemini @sarakay-gvf @idk-anymore50 @kels-gvf @strangersimp @richjaaasss @greta-van-chaos @shesawomaninadream @joshkiszkashikingboots @brinlygvf @alexxavicry @gretavanbitches @doodle417 @sammyslappers @lvnterninthenight @josh-iamyour-mama @ksmiz711 @weightofdreams-gvf @luverleaver 

If you would liked to be removed from this taglist, feel free to send me a message, and if you are interested in joining - please fill out the form here!

[bf-skz]

24 to 25 days of SKZMAS | December 5th - Jisung

pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

genre: mutual pining

synopsis: Jisung and his crush work desk by desk at the marketing department of JY Publishing. Jisung is completely unaware of the mutual attraction but seems like only these two are oblivious to the sparks between them. They migth need a Christmas miracle to realize their romance is not hopeless after all.

warnings: light cursing, slow burn

words: 800

5th day of SKZMAS

December 5th

Jisung thinks he is pretty lucky.

He has a cool flat, fun friends and a job he actually likes quite a lot. He was always interested in marketing; luring people in and sweet-talking them to the point where they feel exceptional and ready to spend their money comes to him so easily. It’s fun to come up with new ideas to keep the customers on your toes, and the holiday season is the perfect time for that. With the seasonal plan ready, though, he is left to sit in the office and pretend he is working hard.

“You are not as sneaky as you think you are.” 

Jisung jumps a little as Minho walks up behind him, the older one chuckling to himself. Jisung knows it’s pointless but he quickly closes the webshop tabs on his browser.

“You didn’t see a thing!” Jisung tells him and lifts his hands as a sign of being innocent. “I know nothing about funky rainbow Christmas trees!”

“Sure you don’t.” Minho says, rolling his eyes but he cannot bite his smile back. “Just came to tell you I can’t have lunch with you today. I have this extra report to hand in by 3pm.”

“What?” Jisung whines, throwing his head back. “Why? Can’t you just pass it on to Changbin?”

“I need it for my evaluation.” Minho sighs. “And Changbin has his hands full, too. As we all do.” he says, and oh, Jisung doesn’t like that tone.

“M-me too! I have a lot to plan out and uh, stuff.”

“That’s fine, Sungie. You don’t have to lie to me.” Minho tells him, patting his shoulder, as if he was saying once again, I am the bigger man. Damnit.

Soon, Minho leaves and Jisung is all alone, without any of his webshop tabs or the satisfaction that sneaking around gives him. All alone, except for…

“Hey!” you poke his arm. “Look at this turkey shaped hat. It makes a sound and dances!” you say, playing the video on your computer. “Christmas wishlist material for sure.”

“Oh my gosh, that's so fucking cool.” Jisung says with a grin, and his eyes may linger on your excited face for a second longer than necessary. “Send me the link. I'm so buying that for you for the Christmas party.”

“Only if you wear the matching Santa hat.” you giggle, sending Jisung the email with a little heart in the subject. Subtle hints could go far, you read it in one of Hyunjin’s articles. Though the boy is not known for his subtlety. “Have you seen that they are looking for volunteers to organize and decorate?”

“Oh, yeah? That's fun. I hope they get enough booze to go around all night, that's the only part of that party that's worth it.” Jisung says, nodding along wisely. “I'll talk to Felix. He's obsessed, I'm sure he's gonna be on the committee again.”

“Oh yeah!” you say with an excited hum. “We could also volunteer!” your eyes light up suddenly. “We could just fuck around in the office without doing any work!”

Jisung thinks about it for a second before slowly turning to you. “That… is a bloody genius idea!” he grins widely, bouncing in his chair. “Fuck, you are so smart! I could kiss you-” he starts but after a second of shocked silence, he bursts out in high-pitched giggles. “I mean, haha, you rock!”

Your eyes widen and you blush to a deep red color. God… could you imagine kissing the Han Jisung? Cause you sure can, uh-oh. “Y-yeah! Hahaha you are even more awesome babe- I mean, bro.” 

“T-thanks! You're, uhm, you're just so great…” Jisung says, watching you in awe and wow, you have beautiful lips…

“Hey, guys!”

Jisung almost falls off his chair as Felix greets you cheerfully.

“Holy- bro, where did you even come from?”

“I was eavesdropping right around the corner.” he deadpans before giggling like a little kid at, well, Christmas. “You both are going to love being on the organizing committee!”

“Wow, you really were listening in on us!” you cheer with a tight smile. “How much did you hear?” 

“Just this.” Felix says without missing a beat, and he smiles at you angelically. “I'll add your names to the list then. Toodles!”

Jisung only dares to breathe again once Felix is gone. The little guy can be terrifying sometimes…

“Guess we are the elves this year.” he says, taking a glance at you sheepishly.

“Better order a hat then.” you smile at him sweetly. “Like this one. It even includes the ears!” you say with an excited gasp as you turn back to your computer screen.

“Yeah. Let's get matching ones.” he says softly, not taking his eyes off you. Maybe this Christmas he will be… braver than last year.

to be continued...

[casspurrjoybell-17]

HEART'S FATE - CHAPTER 47

*Warning: Adult Content*     

 As the guards take aim, Skylar West shoves Martin Hunter behind him and steps forward, adopting what his mother would call 'the royal posture' and a matching haughtiness of tone.

"What is the meaning of this?" Skylar demands. "Do you not know your own prince?"

Met with blank stares and confused glances, he realizes he recognizes none of the people currently threatening him. 

Mer-children mature at about the same rate as their human counterparts, only aging more slowly once they reach adulthood. 

In the time he has been gone, several generations might have been born and come of age and thus it is entirely possible that, like Odysseus returned in disguise, Skylar is unrecognized by his own people.

Squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, Skylar prepares to employ his Voice, if need be.

He may be unarmed but he was not without defense.

"I am..."

"Scyllian."

The guards part as Skylar’s father, dressed in the gold-scaled armor of a general, pushes his way through the door.

"Father," Skylar gasps, half in surprise and half in distress, as his father catches him in an aggressive embrace.

General Vargas holds Skylar a moment, his arms like a boa's constricting coils, before letting go and pushing his son away but keeping hold of his shoulders. 

"By the Gods, the wards rang like the devil's own bell when you breached them. We thought we were under attack. We were not expecting you so soon, my son," Vargas says and grins.

"Expecting?" Skylar shakes his head, confused. "I thought you and Natalis were to await me at the coast."

"We did wait, for a time," Vargas says, shaking his son none-too-gently. "But I was eager to see if, free of the amulet, I might return home. I have missed this place and my children, dearly."

Skylar frowns. 

"We thought you were dead but the fact you survived does not negate the charge of treason that blackens your name. Whether I believe you or not, it's the court that must be convinced."

"Natalis has had time to prepare their minds," the General says. "My return is not such a surprise as you imagine. In fact, not a few are convinced your mother acted too quickly when she condemned me. After all, she had only your word as evidence."

“Father.”

Seeing something in Skylar’s expression, his father laughs. 

"But never mind that now. Once you've claimed the throne and taken your place as king beneath the sea, none of that will matter. You will be the court and yours the last and final word."

Blinking in surprise at this idea, Skylar takes a step back. 

"I haven't come here to claim the throne. I've come to free mother and lift the curse. Once she's recovered and in command once more, I'll have time to find a way out of this damned blood-bound inheritance mess."

General Vargas’ expression flickers but with what underlying emotion of surprise, annoyance or even anger. 

Skylar can't tell and as his father’s grin returns so quickly he might have imagined it.

"Well, there will be plenty of time to speak of this later. For now, we must celebrate your return. We shall have a feast and dancing... a proper royal ball. But you have not come alone, I see," Vagas says, glancing past Skylar’s shoulder at his fated mate, Martin. "What is this you have brought with you?"

Frowning at his choice of 'what' rather than 'who,' Skylar steps back a pace and loops his arm around Martin's waist, drawing his partner against his side.  

"Father, this is Martin Hunter, the love of my life and my heart's true fated mate. Martin, please meet my father, General Vargas of Thassos."

Martin moves to extend his hand and Skylar barely catches the breach in time. 

Snagging his sleeve in a pinch, he hisses ‘bow’ under his breath, hopefully just loud enough for only him to hear. 

Fortunately, the Mer-people do not share the enhanced hearing of Wolves.

A little awkwardly, Martin bends at the waist. 

"It's an honor to make your acquaintance, Sir."

Skylar’s father inclines his head. 

Barely. 

"Likewise. We cannot doubt the amulet, however... unexpected it’s choice."

Skylar manages not to scowl. 

Winning his father's approval of his mate had never been a consideration before, mainly because Skylar had thought he was dead and it was too late to let it become one now.

"We are bound by love and fate," Skylar say firmly and joins his hand with his. "Martin is my equal in every way and is to be afforded all honors and respect befitting his position."

"Noted," General Vargas nods, though he has stopped pretending to smile and regards Skylar with a more familiar expression, that of a General calculating his next move. 

Then his face breaks into a grin once again and he claps his hands, startling everyone in the room. 

"Well. Enough chit-chat. Let us bring the happy news to your sisters and the rest of the court. And in the meantime, we shall prepare a feast befitting a prodigal son's return."

                                              ****

As General Vargas leads the way from his son’s chambers and back along the corridor to the main hall, Skylar sneaks a glance at Martin, hoping to catch his eye but his mate keeps his eyes fixed forward, focused on the General's back. 

Behind them, the synchronized footsteps of the guards, walking in two ordered lines, thump like the beat of a drum.

Sweat dampens Martin's brow and trickles down his temple, over the swell of his cheekbone, to the twitching muscle in his jaw. 

Skylar wants to reach over and brush it away, along with all of his mate’s worries but he keep his hands to himself.

At the end of the hall, General Vargas throws open the enormous doors and marches straight out into the sea. 

At least, that's how it appears at first and Martin falls back with a gasp of alarm, causing a guard to collide with his back. 

Skylar steadies him and fails to contain a laugh, though he only laughs in anticipation of his mate’s delight.

"It's alright. Look, the courtyard is dry," Skylar points out, leading him forward.

Martin pauses on the threshold, his up-tilted face blank with shock.

They're inside an enormous bubble. 

A concave stretch of surface tension at odds with earthly physics separating water from air. 

A pod of whales passes overhead, so high above them they look as small as geese in the sky, on some migratory journey across the sea.

Their nearer environs are no less astonishing, with a long walkway elevated among mock tidal pools, which glow with the same soft illumination as the inner palace. 

The source of this light is a long-lasting enzyme produced by a bioluminescent coral but it might as well be magic.

As they walk through this oceanic garden, Skylar keeps one hand on Martin's lower back, as much for support as to keep him from wandering off the edge of the path in his enraptured state. 

By the time they reach the other side of the circular courtyard and mount the steps to the palace's more public wing, which houses the throne room, ballroom and court chambers, Martin has recovered enough to give voice to his impressions.

"This is incredible," he says, still awestruck but less liable to topple at the brush of a fin. "It's like a dream. I understand why you'd never want to leave."

"And why he'd want to return, no doubt," General Vargas interjects offhandedly.

Skylar scowls at his father’s back. 

Though nearly as awe-struck as Martin by sights Skylar has not laid eyes upon in decades, his thoughts have not been idle. 

Since the moment his father showed himself, they've been racing at full tilt.

Skylar concedes that his sister, Natalis was right.

As a young man, Skylar was spoilt, arrogant and easily bored. 

He was schooled in gentle arts, like dance and etiquette and while politics and strategy had also been among his lessons, he had put most of his attention towards whatever entertained him most at any given moment. 

His mother indulged him and his tutors dared not reprimand him harshly. 

Now Skylar bitterly regrets his laissez-fair upbringing.

Princess Natalis, as next in line for the throne after Prince Scyllian, had received much the same tutelage but had applied herself with far more rigor.

She was close with Skylar’s father and joined his elite ranks as soon as she was able and unlike their Mother, General Vargas had not gone easy on her. 

She passed every test, not because she was his daughter but because she genuinely excelled. 

When Natalis earned her place as her father’s second-in-command, no one resented her for it, as she was not given the post but had earnt it.

By the time of General Vargas' attempted coup, if it was an attempt indeed and not the mere misunderstanding he claims it to be, Natalis was respected and beloved as widely as their mother and notably more than Skylar himself.

Had she known of her father’s plans? 

Had she been in league with him all along? 

Did she covet the throne even now and hope to succeed in her brother’s place?

It had occurred to Skylar that his father's plot had been doomed from the start, for without an heir of the bloodline to lead it, there would be no Thassos to lead. 

It had not occurred to the Prince that his father might have recruited one of his sister’s to his cause because if what the General had said about the succession was true, then for one of them to take his place, Skylar would have to die.

In which case, Skylar’s mother was not the only one General Vargas meant to kill. 

These thoughts and many more dash through Skylar’s mind, like racing dolphins as they enter the great hall, his hold on Martin’s hand tightening a little as much for his own reassurance as for his mate’s.

For the first time ‘and once again he curses his own stupidity’ he perceives that coming home might not be so much a triumph as a terrible mistake. 

[bestas-e-besteiras]

I created this blog a few months ago for a reason I don't recall exactly why. I used to have a twitter where I would put my drawings, do a few commissions and sometimes say things of similar nature to this text, still with the flimsy hope maybe one day I would make enough to make a living from my art.

With AI and all the things that happened last year combined with my own acceptance of the grim fate and the curse the stars put on my sign I decided to abandon it. It had no use for me anymore, it was just another ephemeral whim that I made with no reason. Just like this blog. At first I just wanted to have a place to throw up my feelings using words since sometimes my head explodes with so many thoughts reality itself starts to fade away and the thoughts are the only thing left, and I walk aimlessly through my house thinking, monologuing in silence like a maniac. I'm a maniac, so it makes sense I guess. But I think my family probably doesn't enjoy the insane person walking back and forth for hours to no end in the dark thinking whatever crazy people must think. Nothing good I tell you, and say from experience.

Normally I like to put those feelings into words on my native language, for the sake of simplicity and the fact that writing in english many of times feels like running on mud, I never really have the same freedom to articulate myself with my limited vocabulary and poor understanding of the semantic conversational rules often applied to the language from natives, so I can sound artificial or not have as much control over my tone or the ideas I'm trying to express, that without talking about all the times in which my particular prose, brought from my native language even if diluted by my lack of familiarity. can confuse the poor natives. Normally I do that on purpose, but as it is late it is becoming more of an issue of just slipping through my filters. Still, I decided to use English this time, for no reason, because the reason in a world of fools is not of my interest, and the only thing left is insanity that is nothing but fond of erratic behavior and chaos.

The important thing here is how much I enjoy just writing and speaking knowing well no one will ever read or care for what I'm saying. I simply bable to the abyss, to silence itself, not truly speaking to myself because there is always a chance someone will read, but since no one will ever care I'm just screaming at the abyss, no echo, no voice, nothing but my feelings being laid bare to the world to see and to be ignored, but to silence to accept in all his kindness. Silence is an important thing to me, I not only speak to it, it also speaks to me, it says all the things I know and the things I need to know. At night when I'm alone, it whispers in such a kind voice such silly questions that I'm obliged to answer. I would be an incredibly lonely man if not for the silence in all his warmth and goodwill to accept someone like me. I don't belong in many places and the few places I belong are slowly being erased or rewritten, I'm alone for the most part. Truly alone, lonely so great that as I walk in a crowd of people there I stay, alone. Perhaps if men and women are the dust of dead stars cobbled together in something that resembles gods in their own image, I'm one of the few people that are combled from the darkness between each star, the things without name and the penumbra in which the very veil in which the stars dance and shine is made. I have no place in this world, I don't fit. And I'm okay with it I guess, or at least used to it enough I don't care as much anymore, but at least I have silence to keep me company.

In a few occult circles the symbol of silence, in which we put our fingers in our mouth as one to say to stay quiet often carries deeper meaning, not only because the esoteric knowledge this hypothetical circle may carry is the immense value and should not be shared with anyone at risk of being corrupted by the mundane or because it's connection with Harpocrates, a forgotten old god without a cult and even at the time in which men still care about gods rarely worshipped in the traditional sense, but that we worship every night in our beds, when we are alone and our thoughts and the very ponder of our reality and were we find ourselves may drives us into despair, Harpocrates will extend his gentle arms in fatherly embrace. And despite human foolishness and all our sins, and despite some being so broken and raw around the edges that the title of human becomes unfit, he will accept you as one of his children.

And humans are fools, we are nothing but the greatest fools on this earth, we build nests of iron and glass that pierce the heavens, we make entire beasts and apex predators disappear at our own will and make the entire planet bend the knee at our own desires as we look up to the stars wanting more, and we are still the most foolish species on this planet. We decided to abandon silence and put our feelings into words just so we can try our hardest to abandon their true meaning again just so we can go back to saying the things words alone can not say. The things we all share, the tears, the laughter, the cries. the silence that can say an infinite amount of things in one instant. I wish I could say it made me angry, but now at this point I'm just too tired to care. so I just stay quiet, in silence.

[thoughts-of-a-trying-tree]

I posted 163 times in 2022

That's 151 more posts than 2021!

12 posts created (7%)

151 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sarah-sandwich

@the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see

@shipskicksandgiggles

@thoughts-of-a-trying-tree

@innovationoftransspider-man

I tagged 103 of my posts in 2022

Only 37% of my posts had no tags

#fic rec - 36 posts

#parkner - 25 posts

#omelet fic - 16 posts

#the tree speaks - 15 posts

#marvel - 11 posts

#transferred tags → - 8 posts

#spiderman - 7 posts

#spiderlad - 5 posts

#harley keener - 3 posts

#peter parker - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#omg.............. i will write these................... i will........................... number six will make me scream i will write these

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

commitment to a fic is when you change your emoji colors for the characters and forget to change them back

3 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

#4

lmao okay this is such a me thing to do but anyway

remember the announcement i was talking about? yk, the one i never spoke of again? yeah so..... i have an ao3 account!! super exciting, i can leave kudos twice (more if i try hard enough) and its been lovely overall, but ive moved all the fics that i like there (a grand total of four out of... more than four) and from here on out, all my fics will be published there a little earlier than theyre posted here, which some of yall may already know bc i linked it on marry me (teehee check it out lolsies) and its in my bio but!! i fuckin forgor!!! to announce the announcement!!

toodloo, i just wanted to make sure everyone knew!

3 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

#3

writing is just ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new fic idea ooh a new-

8 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

#2

liability

word count: 836

warning(s): lots of angst, hurt with comfort, relationship issues, cursing, an argument

Read on AO3

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

Songs were something that could get caught in Harley's head easily, but conversations never stayed. They were too fleeting, too quick, and he was too spontaneous for them to ever even make sense, much less be remembered.

When he and Peter started dating, he tried desperately to hoard every word, to keep every cadence in his mind, because one thing he could remember were the lessons he learned and one he could never forget was that everyone left. He didn't want Peter to leave but that wasn't something he could control, so at the very least, he could make the memories stay.

And then Peter started leaving and leaving and leaving and coming back and leaving and every time he did, he would always remember another lesson he learned too young, the lesson that you have to leave before you get left.

It's like a song, that one cynical dance of words playing in his mind over and over, a background track to an argument he should've seen coming.

What the fuck are you doing to yourself? Can't you stop? For me?

It's not that easy.

You don't have to do everything you can do just because you can! Take a goddamn break, won't you?

I can't take a goddamn break, Jesus. Do you even hear yourself?

I don't think I'm asking for too much here. Oh, but he was, he was, he was.

You have to leave before you get left.

No, of course you don't.

See the full post

29 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

marry me

word count: 2712

warning(s): references to fics i've never written, cursing, dialogue heavy, and my brand of self-indulgence (also the word uwu is said. im so sorry)

Read on AO3

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

"Peach, toss me the wrench, would you?" Clang! "Thanks, and also the—" Clang! "Oh, yep, that's better actually." Bzzzzzzzt. "Perfect, marry me." Thwack! "I meant thank you!"

'*'*'*'

"Harleyyyy! HAAARLEEEEEYYYY!"

"What? Where's the invasion?" Slap!

"Pick your stupid fuckin' socks up! Tits and their respective gods, I have to do everything around here and there ain't no pay in New York Cit-ay."

"You could always marry me for tax benefits if you're that worried—"

"And pick your stuff up for the rest of my life? I would rather eat my shirt. Better not see anything in the lab!"

"Mhm."

"..."

"…"

Wham! "Harley Fuckin' Keener, why did you leave YOUR socks on MY stuff? Stop laughing!"

'*'*'*'

See the full post

62 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[taeilskitty]

Hey there! I saw that you open for a request so here's what I thought : what kind of sound did nct make when having sex? Are they more into whimpers, groans, or maybe dirty talk? Thank you so much for answering my question and hope you have a good day!

i was BORN to answer this omg. lemme tell you, i have thought about this so SO much!! (i'm leaving chenji out of this bc i don't know how people feel about that yet)

anyways, i hope u enjoy and i hope this matches what you had in mind <3

taeil

oh fuck. taeil is most certainly a groaner. i think (and trust me, i've thought a lot) he must make these gorgeous low moans like right in the back of his throat if that makes sense - have you ever heard his bubble voice messages? oh my god, they're so fucking hot. his raspy voice in the middle of the night is just to die for. that makes me CONVINCED that he dirty talks super up close. even thinking about it makes me shiver :(( he's the king of praise, i just know it. i think he degrades too, but his favourite is when he mixes both together - "you look so pathetic there baby, how cute." "daddy loves his pretty slut so much." "god you're so fucking good for me, my cockslut~" taeil also asks things, i think that suits him so much. "yeah? you like that?" "is daddy's cock too big baby? shh, i'll be done soon..."

taeyong

whiner. whiner. undoubtedly. this boy has the sweetest, prettiest little moans... he gets all high pitched when he's close and oh god when he sinks into subspace he just mewls and his voice gets so weak </3 little "yes" and "a-ah thank you"s slip out because he such a good kitten. he's so precious... and if he gets asked to speak while he's getting fucked he just squeaks out an answer. "m.. love it... ah..." n he will never fail to say his please and thank yous - he's so well mannered even when hes getting used !!!

johnny

this is just. oh my. i think he's silent for the most part. heavy breathing and quiet grunts and groans until he's close. THAT'S when he starts moaning, all sorts of things slipping out. "god you're so good" "i love this hole so much" ahh??! i think he talks down too. fuck !!! daddy!johnny is so patronising, and not just outside of the bedroom. kinda like taeil, he asks things, but he makes u feel so dumb and cock drunk :( AH AND he like... coos when you feel all dazed from his cock... "awh~ is that good? you like that don't you sweetheart? yeah, i know."

yuta

i have this vision of yuta just SLAMMING from behind with his face right up in your ear, telling you all sorts of dirty things lowly with just the hottest voice ever. he's very vocal about what he wants, and he loves cumming inside... so expect him to talk about that. oh, he is so fucking possessive too. "hmm. mine. this is mine. you're mine." he probably bites your ear/neck when he says it... the grunts that come out when he slams are enough to send anyone reeling, but i bet he tells you "fuck. gonna. gonna cum in my fuckdoll--" n his voice just trails off as he fills you up and sighs<33

kun

now kun is !! an interesting one !! ... i envision him as a pretty hard dom, so i don't think he's any stranger to degrading. that being said, i think he's more talkative when he's giving punishments (e.g. spanking over his thigh... heaven<33) rather than when he's fucking. i think he moans lowly, semi-quietly but as he gets more and more pent up he gets louder. (i think this is the case for most of the nct doms but oh well) he'll praise how good you make him feel - assuming you've been behaved enough - but that doesn't stop him from cursing under his breath at every chance he gets ,,..

doyoung

definitely has pretty moans !! he probably does whine, but i mean that in a dom way - if that makes sense? higher pitched moans but not pathetic, in fact it's probably paired with him whispering "fuck yes, good [insert ur fave petname here]". i think he's the type to kiss you a lot during sex and like... moan into your mouth; any space not taken up by the sound of moans will for sure be filled with the sound of his panting and his tongue dancing with yours.

ten

another semi-whiner. i always saw him as a dom but i'm sliiightly succumbing to the idea that he may be a switch... which is why i think there's so much BEAUTY in his moans?? ten makes really pretty, breathy whines and moans i'm sure, i don't particularly think he talks a crazy amount but rather short instructions. (yes i'm going back to dom!ten) "turn around." "get on your knees" "quiet." AH !! he always lets you know what he needs - however, sub!ten will just whine and squirm till you make him cum because he is most definitely a slut who takes anything:(

jaehyun

first of all, this man wrecks me to the fucking core, and i could talk about this for... a while. but his moans are definitely like, raspy high-pitched type. think about his vocals. esp in try again... i bet you they sound like THAT. i'm sure he talks a bit too, tbh he probably says rather textbook dirty things but it sounds so fucking hot when it's him. "yeah take it, take my cock" "fuck yes just like that", he loves how you whine when he moans right up next to you btw - it just makes him do it even more. oh, and bonus - he will never call you ANYTHING without prefixing it with my or daddy's. daddy's girl, daddy's boy, daddy's pet, my dirty slut... ahh<3

winwin

it's almost contrasting to jaehyun but sicheng's voice is so low. i can't explain this in any way other than that he's kitty, but his moans are so... puppy? and when he's fucked, he makes himself sound so dumb too. he's constantly slurring his words and biting his lip because he's trying to keep quiet but anyone who walks by the room will hear "mm.. m!!" because he just can't help himself :( when he's close he probably squeaks like taeyong and cums all over the place GOD i want him

jungwoo

oh god there's no doubt that jungwoo talks SO much during sex. he probably loses his fucking mind with how good he feels. he's such a good boy but sometimes you just need him to shut up - but he can't. he squeaks out a little moan when you push into him, or when you start touching his cock, but withn minutes he's babbling non-stop; "oh god oh god mommy/daddy i love it so much, a-ah like that, please~"

lucas

my brain used to be convinced that xuxi was a dom, but i'm now sure he's a switch. either way, his moans are pretty much the same. they're very heavy and... i guess manly is the best way to put it. in my head i can literally picture him being like "ughhh..." when you start fucking because he just feels like he's wanted to fuck you so desperately - yes, even if you fucked hours before. it's always so breathy and moany and i think he sounds like a bit of a fuckboy tbh... "fuck yeah" as he slides his cock into you? THANKS

mark

loud baby loud baby LOUD BABY:((( no matter how much you cover that pretty mouth of his he will be so LOUD!! he can't stop talking and whining and panting, kinda like jungwoo but honestly... more. he swears a lot too. he tries not to but he just can't help himself :( "aw shit... god shit!!!" under his breath UGHHFDGGDFDD SO FUCKING CUTE IM GONNA SCREAM !!! he's very polite though, so he always says sorry every single time :( he babbles like hell when he cums, he can't stop himself, again like jungwoo. "i'm gonna cum i'mgonnacumi- i'm -- ah fuck, shit--!!"

xiaojun

two words. action figure. everyone knew that was coming, HA - i'm sorry but THAT verse means we all know how he sounds. i think he tries his best to talk normally while you edge him but his little voice keeps on wavering and cracking and just... he can't help but sound all pretty and pathetic :( but surely dejun has some (very frequent) moments where he can't keep his front anymore and just whines like a whore because it feels so good<3

hendery

the things i'd let this man do to me:))) i think at first he'd actually try and hide his moans because he feels like that's what he's supposed to do, but no. for me personally, i know i would NOT LET THAT HAPPEN !! he probably sucks the air in through his teeth in an attempt to hide it - it's very fucking sexy when he does that, granted - but he can't keep doing that for long. i think he hums and laughs when he can't keep it in any longer because he almost feels some kinda defeat but then he just moans semi-loudly and lets out a "good girl/boy/baby... let me fuck you, huh?"

renjun

renjun scares the fuck out of me. why? because his moans are fairly quiet. he's master and it S H O W S. he grunts quietly, maybe muttering things under his breath like "so fucking tight" "mmh there you go..." to fill some silence but he does it subconsciously; he goes so far into domspace sometimes that he just can't control himself. when he's close he talks through his teeth and he's like "i'm. i'm gonna cum baby..."and the more you whine on his cock the more he just laughs at you because he's a sadist hhhhhhhhhhh.........

jeno

most definitely a fun one... you see when he's sub, he pants and whines and drools all over himself like a big dumb puppy boy and he just breathes so heavy n his moans are all shaky... if he's a brat he will try and talk big but he can't take it, he just gets so pathetic and !!! but dom jeno is fucking TERRIFYING because he talks down and tries his best to intimidate you. he chuckles and degrades you, but one of his faves is when he can big himself up under his breath. "look at you now. you love this fucking cock."

haechan

this isn't good for my mental health :) i fucking cannot TAKE this brat :) AHA! hyuckie is honestly such a whore, he's bratty and rude and always talks back at you like he's the king of the fucking world. he's constantly laughing at you and trying so hard to make you feel like you're not worthy but he feels so good he just gets fucked dumb by you :( he is SO loud too. he wants everyone to hear what a dirty whore he is and he makes sure he puts on his prettiest pornstar moans. he whines like his life depends on it. on the off chance that he's being a good boy, he begs and cries and whimpers when he finally cums - and i mean CRIES. sobs. he'll be heaving by the time you're done with him, but god he fucking loves it.

jaemin

fuck... fuck okay... well firstly he loves to talk. we all know how much he praises and how he's constantly showing his love off... that doesn't stop at fanservice, nope. he will fuck you like a ragdoll and keep calm and composed as ever, talking down to you as if you're in his lap for a soft cuddle. "baby loves nana so much hm~?" "oh you really love that don't you?" "you know you're so pretty. nana wants to cum in you so bad~" yes, he calls himself nana because he's a cocky fuck and loves how it sounds. especially when you're moaning it for him.

yangyang

i'm kinda in 2 minds about this... on the one hand, he's kinda like hyuckie in that he whines a LOT. but he can actually keep his composure - he's a breathy whiner, he's not quite as loud and he most certainy doesn't crumble as easily. (that's not to say that he can't, he most definitely can.) on the other hand i think when he's in a more neutral headspace rather than subby, he talks to you like a total fuckboy. not in a mean way but he's just like "hah. i know you love me fucking you like this." he gets so cocky and he sucks hickeys into your neck and hums quietly<3

shotaro

he's such a shy baby :( he wants to moan so much but he probably gets all self conscious and tries to hide it... so you gotta make him feel safe :( when he does he whimpers and it's so pretty and pathetic. the way he wells up with tears and hitches his breath is. adorable. he whispers "thank you... ah..." every time he feels that good and by the time he cums it's just falling from him like a waterfall :( the more comfortable he feels, though, the sluttier he can get... he will always be a good boy but i think he lets his whore side come out every once in a while <3

sungchan

last but most certainly not least, yet ANOTHER boy who pains me to the core. i think sungchan whimpers too. THERE I SAID IT. his cock is too big for his own good so he just... needs you to do SOMETHING to him :( he always sighs at first, maybe hissing just a little but then he gets to a point where he's quietly whimpering because he just needs to cum so fucking bad <//3 "need it... p-please..." he's always nervous to use titles but if he wants to cum he has no choice :( when his dom asks please who? he blushes bright red n mumbles a little "please mommy/daddy... 'm so good..." and god yes he is he deserves it so much ugh<33333333333333

[strawbxrryneptune]

Hiiiii!!!! How are you?? Hope you're doing well💖💖

Although w kinktober you must be so busy, bt I wanna suggest smthng you might like. If you've seen the tiktok trend "come n get your girl, she be tryna flirt" or the waist whine thing(if not you cld check it out on yt),, it's just I can't getting my mind off abt thinking how katsuki(not bf katsuki jus him and u hve a crush in each other) wld find out abt your secret tiktok accnt and stumbles across your video on this and he's hooked n horny n in love all sorts of things . You guys may end up alone for hw or something by chance snd things take a wild turn djvinkjjnn.... I hope you like this idea bt regardless of all that, I wanna say I love your writings and have a beautiful day 💖💖💖

Reference + 2 person version

Let's ignore how long ago this was <3

Bit of an ooc Bakugou ?? I'm experimenting with my writing style. Unedited !!

♡♡

Come and get your girl, she be tryna flirt, so-

"Oi, what shit are you watchin'? "

You jump, your heart racing cause fuck you thought Bakugou was a teacher, catching you watching tiktoks instead of studying.

"Oh I was just scrolling through my fyp."

He scoffs, pulling out a chair next to you and plopping down in it, making it creak from the sheer size of him.

"You made any?"

"Videos?"

He shoots you a glare and you let out a huffing laugh, fingers tapping at your screen to bring you to your drafts. He leans closer and you're surrounded by his cologne, taking a small inhale and side eyeing him to make sure he didn't see.

You pull up the most recent video, and the music plays softly from your phone's speakers as he watches you lip sync, then move the phone down and move your hips along to the beat. Once the video starts to play again, you tap the screen and glance at him, your chest tightening a bit at the awkward silence.

"Uh, have you made any videos Bakugou?"

He scoffs and leans back, head titled as he stares at the ceiling.

"Nah, I'm not a tiktok junkie."

"I-"

"Didn't say you were, woman."

You nod and look away, starting to imagine Bakugou getting sturdy or doing stiff hips. You stifle a giggle before turning back to him.

"You should do one, just for fun. I'll teach you."

"Fuck no."

"Cmonn Bakugou I won't post it or send it to anyone, I won't even save it just try. If it's too hard for you just-"

"-Fuck off. Show me the dance."

"Do you want me to fuck off or show you the-"

He cuts you off with a glare and you grab your phone, setting it up against your water bottle and showing him a tiktok of two girls. After a minute, you start to set up the video and set the timer.

"Alright, you wanna be behind me or in front?"

"What do you think."

You roll your eyes at his attitude but get in front of him regardless, reaching over to grab the phone and start the video. You extend your arm to record you both and silently curse the gods for making him so tall cause you could barely get him in the frame.

The video starts and you lip sync along, trying not to laugh at Bakugou's pout, then bring the phone down to your hips and start to move.

Once the song stops you bring the phone back up to your face and laugh. He was barely visible at the lower angle, his hips rolling but way behind you.

"Why are you so far, Bakugou? You're supposed to be directly behind me."

He grumbles under his breath but doesn't protest when you start over. You lip sync once again and bring the phone down, and this time Bakugou is on you, his print pressing snug against your ass and almost making you drop your phone. You push your ass back hard on the last part, elicting a punched sound from his throat.

Once the video starts to play again you try to take a step forward, but big hands on your hips stop you.

"The fuck was that?"

"Excuse me?"

"That shit you just did, at the end."

"I dont know what you're talking about."

"Yeah?"

He presses against you again, and you can feel his dick throb underneath his sweats, fat and hot. You gasp softly, instinctively pushing back.

"We're in a library you fuckin sicko."

You grind against him again, laughing softly.

"Mm, I'm not the one who got hard though, hm?"

He snarls at you but presses into you once again, lingering for a second before pulling away.

Youre about to say something, but he turns you around and presses his lips to yours, sucking your bottom one into his mouth and holding your waist, groaning softly when nip at him.

"Grab your shit, we're going to my place."

You nod quickly before putting your books back in your bag, exiting out of tiktok where the video is still playing and shutting your phone off. Who new tiktok could be the reason you get laid?

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Sexy drabble request- enemies to lovers hate sex with Loki 🤤💚

The green monster

A/N: This is more jealousy sex than enemies to lovers tbh. Happy reading!

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: 18+, smutty fluff.

Word count: 1.5k

Tom Hiddleston/Loki Taglist – @delightfulheartdream @what-a-flammable-heart @castiels-majestic-wings @lokis-leah

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @suchababie @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry @chickensarentcheap @dontmindmyname123 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @buendiabebeta @princess-jules47

.

“May I have this dance, gorgeous?”

The gentleman who had his eyes on you the entire evening had finally asked you to dance and you were pleased. The said gentleman also happened to be a prime suspect of your mission.

The plan was to keep him engaged while your least favorite Avenger sneaked into the private rooms in order to bug it. Natasha and Clint waited outside in a van to receive an audio visual on them. You hoped to God that Loki did his job right without any glitches while you sweet-talked to the guy.

Unknown to you, there was a green jealousy monster rising its head inside Loki as he glared at the two of you from the shadows. Nostrils flared and hands balled up in fists, he hated the way you giggled and fluttered your eyelashes at the vile man. He wanted to burn his hands for having held you so close to his body while you two swayed to the music, his undeserving fingers splayed across your bare back.

You caught Loki’s eye, amused at his reaction, you couldn’t help teasing just a little. You always had a back and forth going on with him, you didn’t think much of it before acting out. The Asgardian who swore nobody could affect him that way ever, sure was adorable when irked.

Or so you thought.

You leaned over to whisper something in his ear which made him laugh and pull you closer to his chest before pressing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand.

This sent him over the edge, Loki abandoned your plan and made his exit in a dramatic way, a green light flashed across the room as everyone’s attention was now divided. It all happened too fast for you to process but your instincts kicked in and you had to act fast. The damage was already done, you had to get out of the place.

Cursing under your breath, you ignored Nat’s distressed voice and managed to somehow sneak out of the place after excusing yourself to the bathroom. Of course, he had betrayed, that’s what he does, you reminded yourself.

“Why did I even trust him?” you fumed, opening the door of the van to find two equally furious trained assassins. The drive back to the tower was silent, apart from your brain which was coming up with several ideas on how to murder the God of Mischief.

.

Previous anger still lingered as you made your way up to Loki’s room in the Tower, knocking on his door rather loudly before realizing it was open. Pushing it open, a part of you expected it to be empty but there he was, leaning against the window, arms crossed and a sulk on his face. It was almost like he was waiting for you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What was that? You don’t just abandon a mission out of the blue! Explain yourself, Loki.”

Crossing your arms to keep yourself from slapping him, you waited for an answer as his eyes simply bore into yours silently. It frustrated you further, the silence, usually he was all about the words.

“What, you're gonna keep quiet now? Were you planning on betraying us all along? Huh? Because you’re incapable of doing good, because you’re always the trickster? Here I thought I could trust you and—”

“I didn’t think my help was required with the way you had that imbecile all wrapped around your finger.” Loki’s voice was low as his gaze didn’t leave your form while he answered, causing you to frown.

“What? I—I did it for the mission, it was part of the plan. Remember when we discussed that? Of course, you don’t. You ruined everything!”

Your voice rose with the anger as you contemplated what to do next, he was still dangerously silent which couldn’t end well, you knew better than that. Deciding to leave him alone, you headed for the door but he beat you to it. Crossing the distance in a few long strides he shut the door with a loud bang before towering over you. He was too close; a few millimeters and you would’ve collided against his chest.

“Why are you—?”

“I did not appreciate the way that man had been eyeing you, the way he lay his hands all over your body, I wished to stab him.”

While his honesty took you by surprise, the audacity of this man made you scoff. Sometimes could be one of the most infuriating souls on the planet. Crossing your arms over your chest you fired back.

“And do you think it’s a treat watching you charm your way around a party? I don’t go on sabotaging missions just because I get jealous.”

It was Loki’s turn to raise his eyebrows as you dropped this new information on him, a smirk which he hid too well before nodding.

“I guess…we’re even then.”

“What? We’re not even. I have never betrayed my team because of how I feel about you, Loki. Never. What you did was wrong. I came here to yell at you and now I’m done. You’re—we’re done.”

As you were about to try and leave again, he stepped in your way, blocking your path and forced you to look at him.

“We’re not done. How could you say that?”

Dropping his voice to barely over a whisper, your heart threatened to jump out of its ribcage as Loki lowered his head to press his lips onto yours. Reluctantly at first, but you responded quickly after your arms slid up his chest and around his neck to pull him closer.

“You just admitted to being jealous.”

Loki whispered against your lips, walking you backwards until you hit the wall, continuing bruising you with kisses while your brain tried to process what had transpired.

“So did you.”

Smirking as you worked on undoing his buttons, you got little time to admire his chiselled torso as he grabbed you by the back of your thighs to lift you up. A sigh left your lips when his groin brushed against your core, desire pooling between your legs as he drove his hips forwards purposely.

“You owe me an apology you know…” you breathed, holding onto his shoulders tight, gasping when he nearly tore the dress away from your body. Lust-darkened shamelessly drinking you in.

“Well, consider me apologising, love.”

Loki attacked your neck, bruising spots by baring his teeth before soothing them over with his tongue while his hands kneaded your breasts, pinching your nipples with deft fingers.

Your body felt like it was on fire, desire burning deep in your belly as your heart beat rapidly against your ribcage. It had been coming from a mile away, everybody knew it, the tension was going to boil over sooner than later and now that it had, you wondered why you hadn’t been doing this all along.

Loki had overpowered your senses with those syrupy kisses, clouded your brain to the point where you didn’t register when he had rid himself of his clothes.

He teased your folds, gathering your slick with his tip before it turned you impatient as you pushed your hips ahead to take him in. A combined groan echoed in the otherwise silent room as he stretched you out, your warmth enveloping his length in its velvety blanket until he bottomed out.

Hair tangled up against the wall, back digging into the hard surface but all you could think about was more. Wanting more of what he was willing to give, every shudder that left your body wanted the same.

Loki’s teeth sunk into your skin, marking you as his while his length impaled you into a panting mess. That coil in your belly threatened to snap and he could sense it.

Deft fingers that circled around your clit in tandem with his thrusts sent you over the edge, letting out a strangled cry as your walls fluttered around his cock. Your mind a foggy mess as you floated, holding onto him as the aftershocks wracked your body.

“That was one hell of an apology.”

You felt him smile against your neck where he placed soft, soothing kisses, still sheathed inside your warmth. Carrying you over to the bed, he made you lay on top of him as he caressed your back.

“Do you forgive me, my darling?” He whispered. The duality of this man being so rough just a while back and yet this soft the next second was surprising.

Pretending to think for a while, you placed your chin on his chest with a mischievous smirk.

“I don’t know yet…Might want to keep apologizing.”

[enchantestuff]

miscommunication - charles leclerc

in which your Pierres little sister and reap the consequences after an eventful night in Monaco with his best friend

I think I'm going to make this into a series, like 3 more parts maybe??

part two

GIF NOT MINE!!!

warnings: smut, my failed attempt at angst (I tried), language, em yeah

3k words (I have no idea how that happened) 

You had known Charles for years, which wasn't particularly surprising considering you were Pierres little sister.

When you were little you envied their friendship, constantly trying to insert yourself in their games and conversations. You had lost count of the amount of times they slammed a door in your face, demanding you to leave them alone. You hadn’t realised how annoying you were being as you followed them around everywhere, even if Pierre had scolded you for it each day.

When you were a teenager, Pierre purposely kept Charles away from you, telling him that if he even looked in your direction he wouldn't hesitate to end their friendship. You, of course, had no idea of the threat not that it mattered as you didn't paid any attention to the infamous duo during those few years, living in your own little world full of clothes , friends and different boys.

Now, however, you were an adult and all you wanted to do was support your brother throughout his career. In recent years you had gone to as many races as you physically could, but of course you had your own job and unfortunately didn’t have the time to attend any race this season.

Pierre was disappointed, he loved having you there to support him, but he understood that you had your own life and never placed any blame on you. After years of the two of you constantly ignoring each other and bickering, you had finally begun to act like siblings and all he wanted to do was make up for lost time.

You had thankfully gotten three weeks off work - well they weren’t necessarily weeks off as you still had to do your job, but your boss insisted that there was no need for you to trek to the office everyday when you were perfectly capable of doing the work at home on your laptop. The timing couldn't have been better with the triple header just around the corner, it almost seemed like a miracle and you were gonna enjoy every minute of it.

You grinned as you texted your brother.

Any spare tickets to the race :)

He replied almost immediately.

You're kidding, which one?

All of them?

Your texting was cut off by Pierres contact photo appearing on your phone. You answered instantly only to hear Pierre screaming through your speakers, he also slipped in a few delighted curse words before finally letting you talk.

“My boss gave me the next three weeks off so I’m going to go support my favourite brother” you grinned.

“Your only brother” he remarked and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

You spent the next few hours catching up and retelling pointless stories. You had gone to sleep with a lazy smile on your face and  woke up the next morning to a text from Pierre, telling you that he had organized your passes for the three weekends as well as the flights, all you had to do was find a hotel. He slipped in the name of the hotel that he was staying at, and to your luck there was still room available. Now all that was left to do was wait.

You grinned giddy as you stepped off the plane and walked toward the baggage collection area, excited to finally get back to watching races in person. You rubbed your eyes in surprise when you spotted your brother waiting for you. “Pierre?” you screamed delightly, running up to him and pushing his body into a bone crushing hug. It felt like you hadn’t seen him in forever even if it was only a few months.

“Bonjour,” he laughed as he hugged you back.

“I thought you were busy all day today” you exclaimed once you pulled away from him.

He sheepishly shrugged at you with a lazy grin on his face. “I may have lied, are you ready to go?”

You nodded your head at him and for the first time in a long time your mind drifted towards your brother's best friend, Charles, who you hadn’t spoken to since an eventful night in Monaco a few months ago.

You cursed yourself as you thought back to that very moment.

Charles was having a party at his lovely home, you can't remember now what you were celebrating but everyone was ecstatic. You could hear the music from across the street and you knew before you even entered the house that it was going to be a night to remember.

The moment you stepped foot inside you were surrounded by multiple drunk people, all with large grins and hooded eyes plastered on them and you laughed as almost everyone stumbled around the house.

You spotted your brother in the middle of the room dancing with a pretty blonde, he had a goofy smile on his face and you knew from that sight of him alone that he was wasted. You were the only sober person there, at least that's what you thought until Charles had made his way to you with two cups in his hand, alcohol for you and water for him.

“I thought you were celebrating,” you mused as you took a sip of the dark liquor.

“Someone needs to keep these drunk idiots in check,” he joked.

“Well in that case” you said as you handed your drink to a stranger and took a sip of his water instead. You laughed at the bewildered look he threw your way before continuing, “I'm not going to let you tackle this party alone.” The smile that formed on Charles was genuine and your breath hitched in your throat at the sight.

You surprisingly enjoyed yourself the whole night, maybe that was because you knew everyone there, but most likely it was because you spent the whole night with Charles.

A few hours into the party he turned to you asking to dance, you didn't even hesitate to say yes, nerves surrounded you immediately and they only got worse when his hands dipped dangerously low on your hips. Your eyes automatically searched for Pierre and you left out a sigh of relief when you couldn't find him anywhere.

The thought of getting caught fueled both you and Charles, so when he spun you around to face him neither of you hesitated to connect your lips. You considered yourself lucky that everyone around you was too drunk to notice your heated make out and used it to your advantage. You pulled him even closer to you, moaning in his ear when he grabbed your bum and giggling at the whimper he let out.

You felt dizzy. The fact that you were both sober made your first kiss even more real.

You were anxious when he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere more private but agreed nevertheless, hoping that maybe he had wanted you for as long as you had wanted him.

He had tenderly kissed you again once he closed the door behind him.

“God, you have no idea how long i've waited to do this,” he moaned in your ear and although you knew that was just something people said in the heat of the moment, you let yourself believe it. You let yourself believe every single word that left his lips and got even more attached to the moment.

You revealed a piece of yourself to him that night, not only a physical part, but a part of your heart as you admitted your deepest secrets to him. “Fuck, Charles, I’ve always wanted you,” you moaned when he gently placed you on the bed.

You attached yourself to the kisses he placed all over your body, you paid attention to every bit of affection that he showed you, never once wanting him to stop. When he positioned himself next to you and asked if you were sure you told him there was nothing you've ever been more sure about.

You had both simultaneously moaned when he entered you, laughing at each other afterwards, which made your heart flutter. He was Charles, your brothers best friend and yet sex with him felt so natural.

He placed a tender kiss to your chest before he started moving and you couldn't help but hold him close to you, he didn't seem to mind however as he nested his head in the crook of your neck, letting you hear all the soft gasps and grunts that left his mouth.

You arched your back in pleasure when he reached the deepest parts inside you, your toes curled and your eyes rolled back and all you could think was God why didn't we do this sooner?

“Don't stop, please Charles, don't stop” you moaned in his ear, and if you weren't in a completely different world you would have noticed the shiver than ran down his entire body at your words.

“Trust me, mon amour, i never want to stop”

You weren't even aware of the moans the left your lips until Charles had grabbed your chin and looked at you with desperation written all over his face, “Merde, Y/N, i want more than anything to make this moment last but If you keep making those pretty little sounds you're gonna make me cum”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words “Shut me up then”

And he did, he grunted as he reconnected your lips, swallowing your moans and letting out his own in the process. From the kissing, to Charles’ moans and the rolling of his hips it didn't take you long to release the knot in your stomach.

You regretted it now, thinking back on it, it had completely ruined your friendship with Charles. Your daily silly texts to each other had ceased to exist, your weekly facetime calls had died and a piece of you had broken.

You didn’t expect any less, he was your brother's best friend and even though you always found him insanely attractive, you knew deep down he would have found your little crush on him weird. You always had the suspicion that he saw you as a little sister, and the way he completely ignored you after your hookup had proven them to be true.

You couldn't hate him, or even place the blame of your failed friendship on him as you also went out of your way to ignore him, something that you really regretted but couldn’t change.

“You alright?” Pierre asked as he grabbed your suitcase in his hand.

“Yeah sorry i - i don't know what happened to me there,” you choked out, walking alongside Pierre to his car.

“It's free practice tomorrow, you coming?” he asked once you were both sitting comfortably in his car.

“Yeah, of course” you nodded as you watched the tall buildings pass by in the window.

“Everyones misses you, you know?” he quickly glanced over at you while he drove, wondering what the hell you were thinking so hard about.

“Yep” you sighed, “Me too,” but all you could think about was the Ferrari driver and how awkward it would be to see him again

You had shut yourself in your hotel room for the rest of the night, the flight and overly long check in had taken all the remaining energy out of you and all you wanted to do was curl into the hotel bed and sleep for as long as you possibly could. So that's what you did, until Pierre rang your phone, telling you that he was leaving for free practice in half an hour, wondering if you needed lift, which of course you did you had mumbled to him while scrabbling out of the bed and running to your bathroom to take the quickest shower of your life.

You had somehow gotten ready in time and before you knew it you were walking around the paddock with Pierre next to you, basking in the glorious sun.

Pierre whistled in excitement when he spotted Charles walking out of the Ferrari motorhome. The brunette quickly turned at the sound, a smile forming on his face when he spotted Pierre, his eyebrows raising soon after as he finally noticed you next to him. Your heart beat loudly in your chest as he got closer and closer to you.

You stood firmly in your spot, uncertain if a hug would be too big of an action after months of silence between you both, quite frankly you didn’t even want to touch him, the pain that he had caused you cutting too deep. Unfortunately, he beamed at you and grabbed your hips, pulling you into his chest and rocking you both side to side.

“Hi,” you laughed, unwilling to cause a scene in front of your brother, you moved your arms to wrap around his neck.

“It's great to see you” he admitted when he pulled away and you felt your throat close up at his words. “I’ve missed you”

“I missed you too,” you smiled and although it wasn’t a lie, the words felt dirty leaving your lips. You shouldnt have missed him, not when he left you lying alone in his bed after you both had sex.

“God, you're acting like you haven't spoken to each other in months,” Pierre laughed, and you and Charles shared an awkward look with each other. The silence that followed was unbearable.

You cleared your throat as you looked around the paddock. “I'm going to get some water” you quickly spilled out and abruptly turned in the other direction, ignoring the confused look that Pierre shot in your direction. You had only taken a few steps when Charles grabbed your arm and pulled you behind a random building.

“Shh it's me” he flinched as you pushed yourself away from him, “it's me” he repeated looking at the bewildered expression on your face.

“You couldn’t have just talked to me like a normal human being?” you argued, “Did you really have to drag me behind a building?”

“I couldn't talk about you know what around you know who” he threw back and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh! You dont want to talk about us having sex infronf of Pierre” you snapped and he covered your mouth with his hand. You bit his hand and he gasped in response.

“You bit me!” he half shouted.

“You didn’t seem to mind last time” you commented , relishing in how flustered Charles had gotten.

“We need to talk about that” he choked out, looking absolutely anywhere except your eyes.

“Oh so now you want to talk about it?” you asked with an accusing tone to your voice, surpringing not only Charles but also yourself.

“I know it was a dick move, I just” he sighed “I didn’t know how to bring it up”

“How about maybe not leaving straight away? How about sending me a text explaining how you felt instead of leaving me in the dark for months? If you thought it was a mistake you could have just-”

“I didn't think it was a mistake”

You couldn't help the effect those words had on your heart, but suddenly you were even more furious, he was unintentionally playing with your heart and you didn't know how much more of it you could take.

“Then why didn't you tell me!”

You were frustrated and he wasn’t helping one bit. He had left it too late, the damage was done, you had spent months regretting your decision to climb into bed with him and a few words lazily strung together to form a sentence wasn't going to erase the emotional damage he caused you. It didn't matter anymore whether it was intentional or not

“I didn't want to ruin our friendship”

“That is the dumbest excuse I've ever heard!”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes and all you wanted to do was sob your heart out, but you refused to cry in front of him, you didn't want him to know the effect he had on you. “Look your late and i - i need to breathe”

You didn't give him a chance to reply as you ran away, unable to face the boy who broke your heart: the boy who had given you everything you could possibly want, only to snatch it out of your grasp.

You cursed yourself for getting attached to that moment because now, every time you closed your eyes, all you see was him panting on top of you and all you could feel was his lips on your skin. It was a memory that used to delight you but now all it brought was sadness and pain.

You knew your attachment issues would bring you pain one day, but only now as you crouched down next to some random building, did you realise it would be physical pain. You clawed at your neck in desperation. You couldn't breathe. Your tears were practically suffocating you and you couldn't help but think Charles' hands ripping your heart from your chest was the cause.

Unknowingly to you, Charles watched your retreating figure with tears forming behind his eyes. It had finally hit him how much he fucked things up. He thought he was doing the right thing, he thought maybe you needed space, maybe you would have regretted it.

He wore his heart on his sleeve that day, everything that he told you was true, he was just so scared. So scared that he would be left heartbroken, that his feelings were unrequited, that maybe, just maybe, you would be disgusted with yourself for what you two did.

He left early the next morning to hype himself up, to finally tell you about his feelings for you that had been bubbling around in his stomach for years, but when he returned to his bedroom you were gone.

He didn't realise how much waking up to an empty bed would affect you, just as much as you didnt realise how much leaving would affect him.

He was never good at communication, but it was so easy with you, so why didn't he pick up the phone? He had no excuse except that he was scared.

It was his fear that hurt him the most. It was his fear that broke your heart and that had hurt him so much more than he thought was possible.

[kookscrescent]

A Needy, Desperate Fuck Up (m) │ pjm

❒ pairing: jimin x female reader ❒ summary: jimin’s desperation leads to a fuck up. ❒ prompt: "Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that's not fucking good!" and "Fuck! I'm not on the pill!" ❒ rating: nc-17, 18+ ❒ genre: smut, pwp ❒ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, cursing, accidental creampie, rough sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, choking, crying, Jimin is neeedyyyy for that puzz puzz ❒ word count: 3.1k │ unedited ❒ release date: may 8th 2021 ❒ disclaimer: This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

The door to your bedroom barely has a chance to close properly before Jimin has you pressed flat against the wall. The coldness of the exposed brick wall has goosebumps rising on your rapidly heating skin, and you shudder at the contact.

But you don’t care. All you can think about is the way Jimin feels pressed against your body – the hard panels of his toned chest and abdominal muscles, not to mention his hard length growing against your leg.

You can’t help but moan at the feeling. It’s been way too long since you and Jimin have had sex! He’s been extremely busy with recording for the new album, and his schedule is almost jammed packed every day, and on the rare occasion that he has a few hours of free time, you would much rather have him spend it on catching up on some rest.

But something had come over him the minute he opened your front door and stepped inside. Like you normally would, you’d yelled out a hello to him, letting him know you were in the kitchen, with your hands buried in the dirty dish water as you were cleaning the few dishes you had neglected since the day before. You hadn’t heard him call back a hello to you like he normally would, but you thought he might just be tired and didn’t really think anything of it. However, you did hear him entering the kitchen and stopping just behind you. About to ask him if he was hungry and if he wanted you to make him something, you’d dried your hands on the nearest rag, but you didn’t even manage to get a proper look at him before his hands were in your hair and his lips were claiming yours in a hard kiss.

It took your breath away. Literally. The rag fell to the floor without a sound and without pulling away to question his sudden behavior you grabbed his face in your hands, trying to bring him closer. He took the hint and stepped forward, pushing his chest and pelvis against your body. he was hot and cold at the same time. His clothes cold from the slight breeze outside, but his hands and lips warm and hot against your skin.

Things escalated pretty quickly from that point and you honestly can’t really remember the journey from the kitchen to your bedroom. Every breath you each take is rushed and breathy, and all you seem to recall is hands frantically trying to remove pieces of clothing and said clothing landing haphazardly on the floor in a line behind you. Hard and wet kisses to your lips and neck, and your hands desperately trying to undo the string on Jimin’s joggers.

At this point you’ve both managed to get each other undressed, both of you now lying naked on the bed, Jimin hovering above you, your legs caging him in and his hard cock resting between your soaked folds as he slowly grinds himself against you. Your mouths are a hot mess, lips slipping and sliding over each other and your tongues erotically dancing.

It’s like all hell have broken loose and the both of you have just lost it. You have no idea what has spurred on his sudden desperate need to claim you, but you can’t say that you mind one bit. You’re equally as desperate to have him, not having felt him inside of you for almost three weeks!

Throwing your head back, you groan as the tip of his cock nudge your clit. “Shit, that feels so good!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” You find his eyes, hoping to god he won’t stop moving against you.

He leans down for another kiss. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed your sweet pussy!” He rumbles, lifting to his hands so he can watch his cock effortlessly slid between your folds, your slick coating every thick inch of him. “Fuck, I need to taste you baby.”

With a jerk he moves down your body, your legs automatically parting wider to make room for him. Once settles between your legs, Jimin looks up at you from under lust clouded eyes, his pupils so dark and intense that you become slightly nervous. Pressing a kiss to the juncture of your thigh, he gently and ever so slowly runs the tip of his pointer finger down your slit, collecting your juices before sucking his finger clean.

He groans and you almost dissipate on the spot. His finger returns to your heat as another kiss is pressed to the juncture of your thigh. He repeats his previous action – running his finger down your slit, collecting your arousal, but he stops at your entrance, teasingly circling your hole. He pushes in just an inch before retreating and you mumble a frustrated please. You lock eyes, just as a second finger joins the first and he pushes in all the way to his knuckles.

Your head hits the pillows in a sigh of relief. He pushes in and out of you in a slow and tantalizing rhythm. It has your head swimming, and you need more.

“Please Jimin, please! Don’t tease me.”

“Don’t tease you baby?” he repeats and following with a kiss right above your clit. “Why not?”

Arrogant shit, you think!

“It’s been so long…” you mumble, your voice muffled by the pillows when he begins to pick up the pace. “Make me cum!”

“Hmmm,” he places another kiss above your clit, so close to touching but never enough to give you the relief you want. He begins scissoring his fingers inside of you, and the familiar fire starts in your stomach. “Want me to make you cum with my mouth babygirl?”

You nod frantically! “Yes yes yes ye- ahhhh!” You’re abruptly cut off by the feeling of Jimin’s tongue finally making contact with your clit. He gently licks it – long fat swipes with his warm tongue.

The sounds coming out of you is only spurring him on. Two fingers turn to three and he sucks your clit so violently it has your hips rising from the bed. He easily folds one arm across your lower abdomen, holding you down as he continues to suck.

The fire picks up, and your cries grows louder and louder with each suck of his mouth and each thrust of his fingers. You can’t remember a time where you’ve ever wanted, no needed, to cum so desperately. You can almost taste the release on your tongue. So close.

You can feel how eager Jimin is to make you explode on his tongue as well. He pushes the entirety of his face into your soaked pussy. His tongue working you so feverishly, his nose bumping your sensitive clit.

You grasp at his hair, pushing his face deeper into you and he groans in respond. The vibration sending a wave of tingles through your clit and all the way down to your toes, making them curl. You feel like your brain is no longer connected to the rest of your body, your legs and hips having a life of their own – bucking wildly against his face, trying to reach your high.

Slipping his fingers out of you, he reaches up to press your hips to the bed with both of his hands, making you completely immobilized.

You’re about to whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, but Jimin is quick to replace them with his fat tongue instead.

“Ah…ah Jimin- oh god!” You moan.

He continues his feast. Slurping and sucking every inch of your wet pussy. You’re so close, so fucking close to cumming, every nerve in your body is on high alert, ready to explode in a fit of euphoria.

Jimin moans between your legs. Loving the way your sweet juices cover his face and tongue. If he’s not careful, the mere taste of you on his tongue combined with the way you sound when you’re losing control, he could probably cum.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” You plead, digging your fingers deeper into his scalp, yanking at his hair.

He doesn’t stop. Jimin keeps going, your moaning pleas urging him to go even faster, and he throws his fingers back into the equation. Plunging two fingers into your tight hole and working them at the same fast rhythm as his tongue on your clit.

When your grip on his hair becomes almost too painfully tight, he knows your cumming.

“Shit shit shit shit shit! Ohhhhhhh…!!”

He keeps lapping up every inch of you until he’s sure you’ve ridden out every small inch of your orgasm. Only when your hands fall limply to the bad, does he ease up.

You’re panting, trying to catch your breath as Jimin kisses his way back up your body. He seems just as out of breath as you are, but you can tell that he’s no way near finished with you.

And you would be sourly disappointed if he were.

*

“God you’re so hot!” Jimin breaths, lips hovering above yours, barely touching. He thumbs your lower lip, drawing it down before flicking his tongue across it. Locking his eyes on yours, he holds your gaze as he works his hips between your legs.

Supporting himself on one elbow, he lets the other arm travel behind your body to roughly grab onto your ass cheek, squeezing it tightly as he grinds his pelvis against you, letting his pelvis rub against your still sensitive clit as his cock is nestled deep inside of you.

Lifting, you reach for his mouth, your breast pressing against his sweaty chest. You whimper into his mouth as he slowly begins drawing back his hips and pushing his cock back inside with a hard thrust. He repeats this several times. Each time pushing a little deeper and thrusting a little harder.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, he whispers, “I’m gonna make you cum so hard on my cock.”

“Please!”

“Would you like that?”

“Yes! God yes!”

He forces one of your legs over his shoulder as he moves to sit on his knees, trapping your remaining leg between his. This automatically causes you to roll to your side, changing the position and making him go deeper.

Fisting the sheets, you hold on for dear life as Jimin begins fucking into you at an almost violent pace. He kisses your shin as he uses your leg as leverage to push himself faster and deeper inside of you.

It’s a bruising pace – hard, fast and rough.

“I-I… Jimin!” You hoarsely call out his name as heat washes through your body and the knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

“Shit! Are you gonna cum baby?” His eyes zero in on the way your pussy swallows his cock so desperately, your wall tightening and sucking him in. “Fuck you’re getting so tight!” He whines almost painfully.

You cry out, your orgasm crashing through you like a volcano erupting. Your entire body is convulsing and tingling with the sweet feeling of the release you’ve missed so much. And even when you’re spend and don’t think you can take much more, Jimin keeps going. He fucks you through the waves aftershocks till they subside, and you feel a new knot of fire starting to form.

Your pussy spasms around his cock and it feels like he’s splitting you open. “Oh my fucking god!”

“Fuck! How do you keep getting tighter?!” He throws his head to the ceiling with a deep growl, his fingers digging into your flesh and he slows down to let your both catch your breath.

“Kiss me please,” you manage to stammer out the few words, needing to feel him close to you again.

With your leg still over his shoulder, he leans down on his elbows till he’s able to slot his lips over yours in a sweet kiss. You claim his mouth, your hands cupping his cheeks as your tongue licking its way inside. It’s wet and messy, and Jimin switches his rhythm to match the pace of the kiss. Slowly, he grinds his hips against yours as your mouths make love. It’s a complete switch of mood from what it was mere seconds ago. But none the less, the know forming in the pit of your stomach keeps on growing.

Jimin pick up the pace once again. Frantically, desperately snapping his hips against yours – the sound of your skin slapping together and the squelch of your juices as the pumps in and out, filling the room.

“Fuck,” he breaths and finds your neck, licking a fat stripe from your ear to the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He bits down softly and your face contorts in pleasure, hands scratching down his sweaty back.

You don’t know how he’s able to keep going like this, but you’re not about to tell him to slow down or stop. Not when the tingling feeling of another orgasm starts spreading through your body. But before the feeling can take full flight, Jimin stops to sit up on his haunches, and you whine loudly.

“Noooo!”

He laughs, running a hand through his thick wet locks. “Don’t worry babygirl. I’ve got you.”

And he does. He doesn’t waste a beat and immediately pick up where he left. He spreads your legs wide, his eyes focusing on the way he sinks his cock into your sweet heat, the way you drink up every inch of him. The sight nearly makes him cum on the spot and he has to concentrate real hard not to blow his load inside already. He’s not done with you yet!

Having gone so long without being inside of you, he’s not ready for this to be over!

“Jimin- ah ah ahhhhh- hnnng!” Your back arches off the bed as the crown of his cock rubs against your sweet spot. Jimin responds with his hand on your throat, putting just the right amount of pressure. You can feel your eyes tearing up at the intense amount of pleasure running through your body, he’s everywhere! You can feel him everywhere! And you don’t know how much more you’ll be able to take, feeling spend and used after 2 orgasms already.

“Baby please,” you beg him teary eyed. “Need you to cum!”

Jimin shakes his head, his hair falling over his eyes as determination takes over his features. “Gonna make you cum again!” he rasps, throwing his other hand into the mix as well – using his thumb to draw harsh circles on your clit.

Your hips buck against his touch and the fire in your stomach intensifies to the point of pain. “I-I can’t…” you sob, and you desperately try to find something to grab onto, eventually settling on Jimin’s thighs, your nails digging into his skin. You’re sure that will leave a mark in the morning.

“Yes you can!” Jimin growls, teeth biting into his bottom lip and he begins pounding into your so ruthlessly and desperately. He fucks you so hard and fast, that you’re almost positive that the bed will break.

He squeezes your throat a little harder, making the tears stream down your cheeks – wetting the pillow below you.

“Fucking cum! Cum around my cock baby!” he breathes, leaning down to kiss the tears from your cheeks.

The slight change in position, has his cock reaching so deep inside of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, fingers clawing into Jimin’s back – trying to hold on for dear life as he pounds you to your third orgasm for the night.

“Jimi- fuck…ahhhhhh!” you cry hoarsely, as you cum so hard that spots start dancing in front of your eyes and your breath catches in your throat when Jimin tighten his hold on your throat the slights bit – adding fuel to your already too intense pleasure.

“That’s it,” he grunts, continuing his abuse and fucking you through your orgasm, now chasing his own as well.

“Oh my god, please!”

You’re so desperate to feel him fall apart, to feel him lose control as much as you are. Wrapping yourself around him, you pull him as close as possible, your hands grasping his ass, pushing and pulling him towards you and your hips matching him thrust for thrust.

“Yesssss! Fuck ____, just like that. Just like that,” he chants, and you cry out in relief when you feel his muscles tensing up under your fingers and his cock twitching inside of you as he cums in hot spurts.

He continues to swirl his hips slowly as you both come down from your high. He finds your lips, placing small, sweet pecks of love over and over again as you both try to find your breath.

“That was…” you mumble against his lips.

He cracks a smile, “It was.”

Eventually Jimin stops moving completely, just lying on top of you with his arms caging you in and his hands running lovingly through your sweat soaked hair. You really need a shower before you go to bed. But you stay like that for what feels like an eternity. Just kissing and touching each other. You’re pretty sure you won’t be able to move once you have to get out of bed, your legs feeling completely numb. But at this rate, you’re not even sure you want to get out of bed at all – the way Jimin feels on top of you, his weight pressing you down, the way his cock feels inside of you and his warm cum still filling your-

“Did you come inside of me?” you ask him abruptly, your eyes going as big as saucers.

He looks down to where your bodies are connected, confused for a second. “Did I? I guess I did.”

“Jimin!” You begin to panic, your voice going up an octave. “Fuck! I’m not on the pill!”

Jimin’s entire body stiffens upon hearing your words. “What?!” He still asks, not sure he heard you right.

“I’m not on the pill right now!”

“What? Why? You’ve always been on the pill!” He says, sitting up and pulling out of you. You wince at the slight sting he leaves behind from pounding you so thorough and good.

“Yes, but remember last month when I had my doctor’s appointment because I was having really bad cramps? She told me to stop taking them for a while to see how my body would respond! I clearly remember telling you this and that you needed to wear condoms!”

“WHAT?!” he practically screeches in disbelief, watching as his cum slowly leaks out of your abused entrance. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that’s not fucking good!”