#i hope you understand because im feral

[morticiasmoonflower]

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I had to make this because it is true. This is all I think about. Every day. The first thing I think about when I wake up, the last thing I think about before I go to bed. They are my babies. (They will/would be 93)

[fanaticsnail]

Oh snail, i know you already have a long list of WIPs (i can't wait to read them) and your Inbox is probably already full with requests, so i understand if its not in the cards right now.

I was just wondering what the kid-pirates would do, or how they would react if ther precious doc-reader is the one that was injured badly or was very sick. Especialy how Killer would react after that romantic tention between them (i need more of that 😩). I don't have a particular song in mind, because the seires already has a vibe to it, hope thats okay.

I wish you a wonderful day/night/evening! 💕Sooo looking forward to your next work, whatever it may be 🐢

I love you for this prompt, @daydreamer-in-training. Thank you!

Sit your ass down, would ya, Doc?

Hey Doc Masterlist here

Word Count: 2,000+

Synopsis: You've taken care of your crew and nursed them back to health from their flus... but now it's your turn. The Kid-Pirates do their best to take care of the worlds worst patient, their doctor: you.

Themes: platonic!kid-pirates, eustass kid x gn!reader, swearing, illness, comforting, taking medication, kid is a bit of a dom, doc is a bit of a bra, you're the kid-pirate doctor: the crew calls you 'doc'.

Notes: I am currently struggling with the flu myself, and this was simply too cute to not write about. Thank you for your ask, it's been fun to write about!

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Hey, Doc? Did we need any more petroleum jelly from the-...?” the fire breather called beside you, hating when you turned to face him, “...-Shit, Doc. You look like absolute balls today.” 

Rolling your swollen, glassy and red eyes at him, you draw another tissue from your counter and sneeze into it. The silky tissue felt like sandpaper over your leaky nose, the skin splitting surrounding your nostrils and leaving small stains of red on the pale paper.

“Always so full of compliments and kindness, Heat,” you huff out, your voice sounding hoarse and cracking along with every word. Heat cringed, recoiling away from you with eyes narrowed in sympathy. You attempt to breathe through your blocked nose, no air passing through the dual nostrils.

Treating the crew for the past two weeks, and nursing them to health in recovering from the flu, had finally caught up with you. You felt both cold and hot at the same time, your skin both dry and sticky with sweat. Mind swelling and cracking behind the tense throbbing throughout your brain caused a dull ache ringing in your ears and fogging your mind.

“I-... I’m just saying, Doc,” he reiterated in defense of himself, “You don’t look too good. Maybe you ought to sit out from the in-land trip to restock. Stay home on the Victoria Punk?” Heat suggested with a soft smile and a subtle shrug.

“What?” you grunted out a cough, “And leave you lot to restock my clinic for me? Not fucking like-...” coughing into another tissue, your glassy eyes pricked at the corners and began to spill out and down your cheeks, “...-likely.” 

Heat’s smile fled from his face, his lip downturning in sympathy. He shook his head and extended his hand out to you, gesturing you to follow him out through the door towards the deck. You attempt to sniff back another intake of air to reopen your nose to no avail. Following on, you trudge somberly towards the top deck where the crew were all waiting to step foot onto the pier. 

Without drawing attention to yourself, your eyes squinted lazily to compensate for the pain the sun caused your mind. With each achy step, you attempted to bite back the ache your body was going through. Barely aware of your surroundings, you gesture in the medicinal remedy booths at town square for herbs, ointments and aromatic fragrances. 

As you reached into your pocket to pull out your small folder of Berry, a large right forearm reached over your shoulder and paid the vendor before you could. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at the scowling grimace of your captain, Eustass Kid, baring his rage down at you. Attempting to roll your eyes at him again, you clenched them tightly shut instead as the world became far too bright to process.

“Captain,” you acknowledge him with a clumsy nod, fighting the urge to not to fall over with the vertigo overcoming you. He growled at you immediately, gesturing to Wire beside him to gather the supplies and walk back to the ship. 

“You’re a real fuckin’ idiot, aren’t ya, Doc?” he spat, scolding you with his heavy growl. You laughed at him, shaking your swirling head and beginning to walk beside him. Your overexertion and sleep deprivation caught up with you as you tripped over an uneven divot in the rocky path.

“I'm not into degradation, Cap,” you respond in a half-joking hum, your eyes feeling heavy and weighted, “Not my kink. Might be yours, though, considering the amount of times I yell at you to hold you accountable.” That comment earnt you another low growl from your captain, his face turning a few shades darker than his hair. 

He turned to face you at his side, his lips curling as if to speak. As he opened his lips, he was lost for words as you fell into him, bracing yourself against him to steady your walk. He caught you in his right arm, bringing his face down towards you and brows knitting with concern. Turning towards Wire, he cocked his chin to the side to usher him on towards the ship. 

With no further warning, Kid dipped at the knees and hoisted you up into his chest beneath your thighs. He curled his bicep and hooked your head beneath his chin and cradled you firmly into him. Under usual circumstances, you would’ve fought this tooth and nail.

You do not enjoy being manhandled by the crew, especially by your captain. While you enjoy the embrace once in a while with your more sensitive crewmates, particularly Bubblegum, the Captain has only ever been this close to you when he’s sparring with you.

“C’mon Doc, I'll get you seen to,” he grunted down at your position curled into his chest, “I’ve-... And the-...” his words trailed off, the fever raising your temperature higher and prompting you to seek out sleep against his pectoral. 

Voices and words fade in and out of your ears, a slow drawl and murmurs of several of your crewmates swelling around your assumed resting spot for the day. The room wasn’t physically moving, even though your vertigo suggested it was. 

“When was the last time Doc’s had a day off?” you recognised the feminine voice of Quincy in the room beside you. Several grunts and incessant babbling reverberated around the room, prompting you to flutter your eyelashes open and push through the pain. 

“Doc!” you cringed as a body almost flew into your bed, sitting on the plush sheets beside you, “You’re awake! I’m so happy to see you’re up!” You wince, slowly waving Bubblegum away, swatting at his zig-zagged head.

“Off, off,” you shooed him, wincing as you shrugged your duvet off your thighs and swung your legs over the side of the bed. As you began to wobble to your feet, the booming voice of your captain called over the chatter of the room,

“Sit your ass down, would ya, Doc?” he growled, striding over in intentional steps and giving you a shove from his right hand in the middle of your chest, “The medics here said you need a week in bed to rest. Sit down.” You growled at him, doing your best to gather the strength to growl at him. 

“If I’ve been prescribed ‘rest’,” you began, gesturing to the crewmates surrounding your current room, “Why the fuck are you all here?” Several sheepish mutters surround the room, a few members pinching the scruffs of their necks, a few more wringing their hands in front of their waists. 

Your captain clapped his hand on your shoulder, pushing you to lay back down and wrangling you into your bedsheets. Refusing to go down without a fight this time, you wriggled in his grip and fought both the fever and the strong arm of your captain. 

“For fucks sake, Doc!” Kid yelled at you, pushing and shoving you down into the very comfortable and unfamiliar bed in front of the crew. “Just lay down and rest, damn it! Go back to sleep.” You wriggled harder. 

“No!” you yelled defiantly, kicking off the duvet and fighting each and every time your captain attempted to shove you into your bed. Kid looked around to the crew, angled his chin sharply to wordlessly order them to leave the room. As they left, Kid turned back towards you and crawled up onto the bed. 

“You are more of a pain in the ass than that fucking bullet to the buttcheek,” he growled, climbing over you and baring down his weight onto your smaller frame. Straddling your thighs, he placed his knees on your open palms and successfully pinned you beneath him. He pressed his forearm over your chest and gave you a firm shove to force you to lay down. You had no choice but to thump your head back into the plush pillow behind your head. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you clench your jaw and growl behind your lips. The rumble in your throat hurt the raw swell in your jugular, but you pushed past it to air your frustrations at him regardless. The chuckle from your captain above you only served to propel your anger to rise higher. 

“Yeah, yeah. Growl and groan all you want,” he scoffed at you, pinning your chest with his bicep while reaching his hand between you and gathering the blankets in his fist. Slowly raising it up, he continued his place straddling your thighs until he thought you would no longer fight him. 

“Why are you doing this, Captain?” you snarl at him, finally opening your eyes to gaze up into his eyes. He smirked at you in response, pressing his palm to your forehead and clicking his tongue at the temperature. 

“Because,” he leaned over to the bedside, taking two small spherical tablets into his hand, “We love you, Doc.” He leaned back over you, gesturing with his chin for you to part your lips. You take a moment to snarl at him before complying, parting your lips and allowing him to place the bitter tablets on your tongue. 

He leaned back over to the bedside, finding a glass of water and bringing it down to your lips. Tilting the glass slowly as it brushed with your bottom lip, he carefully fed you a sip of water to take the pills with. Placing the glass back over on the table, he drew his attention to the small amount of water seeping from the corner of your lip.

“Now, be a good Doctor and get loved on, idiot,” he softly huffed, his voice low and husky as he leaned forward. He used the pad of his thumb to gently collect the spill of water from the corner of your lips. Your eyes never ceased its glare up at him. He grinned tauntingly down at you, arching his brow and ensuring you swallowed the tablets. 

“Get off, Captain,” you growled at him, bucking your hips up in an attempt to remove him from your body. He cackled his rumbled laugh down at you in response, shaking his head. 

“You gonna get up again if I do?” he asked, leaning down and caressing your cheek in a gentle stroke. His eyes held nothing but mischievous mockery, but his hand felt like it was gently coaxing you to comply with what he asked. 

“No, I’ll behave,” you snarled at him. His laugh was genuine this time, low and gentle. Slowly backing off you, he slid off your body before adjusting the sheets and smoothing them over. 

“Good,” he nodded, beginning to leave the room by the door off to the side of the room. Halting at the door, he fought with himself for a moment before looking at you over his shoulder and uttering, “I’ll-… I’ll get Kil to check on you in a few hours. Get some rest, okay?”

What he said next was something you weren’t expecting to come from his lips. In all the time you served with him, he only ever called you ‘Doc’, or ‘Doctor.’ You were your title, and you appreciated that about the crew. You were Doc, only ever Doc. But what he said changed all that.

After he uttered the word “okay,” it was immediately followed by your name. Waiting a few moments, you responded in a cadence just above a whisper. 

“I’ll be right where you left me, Kid,” you replied with a soft smile back at him. He closed his eyes, offering you a reflection of your smile in return before it grew back into its usual mischievous face. 

“Good,” he again offered you, scrunching his nose up at you and looking up through his red eyelashes at you, “Otherwise I would’ve gotten your doting daddy to come coddle his whiny baby.” Your eyes went wide, your jaw clenching and your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. 

Eustass Kid just laughed in response, exiting the room and giving you both the time and space you needed to recover. Your recovery was not only the flu, but of the second hand embarrassment that Killer must’ve relayed to Kid what he’d said to you in the consultation room. Either that, or you left the shell of your Den-Den accidentally activated from when you spoke with your captain earlier in the day.

Either way, you pouted as you did as you were told and huffed back into your bed and went to sleep: the paracetamol activating and stilling your swelling head and masking the undertones of pain in your body.

[vampirenicotine]

analyzing the lyrics for “long face” feat. lestat de lioncourt and realizing it’s a louis diss track (with love) is making me more unhinged by the second.

so we open with the gorgeous oooh oooh wah ahhh hypnotizing portion of this song that will stay in your head and where samuel thyne reid is also showing off his *cough* vocal talent.

next….

“why the long face? my pretty baby” — cause you know louis is a sad girlie but also so fucking beautiful and irresistible to lestat when they met he couldn’t possibly understand what louis would be sad about but also… he’s ready to comfort him ALWAYS.

“i got long fangs come appraise me” —lestat is talking about how he’s a vampire so come asess my value and also … fangs could be a metaphor for his pink pony so!

“bring your long stakes that doesn’t phase me” — lestat is saying you can talk shit about me louis and drive a stake through my heart but i still love you teehe.

“i’m an actor in my make up” — he’s saying i can play games too, louis.

“i’ll get fatter when we break up” —so he’s acknowledging the confidence issues he had over the 77 year break up and the break ups before which…. i don’t have the words to speak on otherwise i’ll die.

“why does it matter who i take up?” —he’s saying why does it matter who i sleep with in regardless to antoinette and it’s like love you king… but you’re crazy.

NEXT!

“another face, another year, another place, another tear, pick up the pace, rack up the fears, now we’re having fun.” — this is a little love letter to his cult (us) telling us to get amplified bitch it’s only the beginning

the instrumental break/oohing and ahhing just so immaculate tough cookie alex & larry really did that!

“i’m piano and you’re forte.” — so this lyric right here is what drove me feral because it has so many possible meanings and a few naughty innuendos. what im going to land on however is the fact that lestat is saying im piano because he can be used in whatever way louis wants to use him and he’s saying louis you’re forte (which means my strength) so he’s like idc what you say about me because you hold me together 🥹

“you’re allegro, i’m andante.” —THIS RIGHT HERE HAD ME ON MY KNEES. this is exposing their sex life in the best way because lestat is saying oh i’m your black tar heroin? ok noted and lemme match that because you’re allegro (which means energetic, fast, super active, loud) so basically he says i know you’re addicted to me because i was there. you’re wild in bed and you’re a screamer. he then says he’s andante (slow) because he likes to take his time and worship louis and really make love to him. BYE.

“we’re boléro, prostitué.” —and then he’s like just because i said we go slow sometimes first and foremost we’re freaks. we’re nasty and we’re unspeakable and well… thank you so much for those visuals queen de lioncourt.

“another taste, another year, another place, another tear, another chase, another sneer, without a trace, you disappear, pick up the pace, pack up the gear, gimme some face, a souvenir, here come the gays, here comes the fear, now we’re having fun.” — these bars are what’s going to give miss lioncourt her first grammy nominations because she is summarizing her relationship with louis and hopes for the future.

he’s also telling louis he’s giving him exactly what he wants. he’s chasing him. he knows louis is gonna sneer at him and be annoyed but come anyway. he’s saying you ghosted me after our reunion but im going on tour and you WILL be my rockstar girlfriend. you’ll kiss me (or the pink pony) before my shows as good luck. he’s saying we’re gonna be gay and proud, we’ll take over the world, cause the vampire apocalypse, scare bitches, and have fun. we own the night.

and finally for the song to end with lestat losing himself and moaning into the mic (coming, smirks) as he thinks about his chaotic plan to get louis back well… it’s just music to my ears. and i will listen to it again. and again. and again. and again.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ rating for you lestat

signed,

your loving groupie.

[neetily]

First time request! Magic pocket pussy with Sam if possible <3 loved loved loved Alex's and Sebastian's versions that I'm requesting Sam! Collecting them all like pokemon.

I don't have any particular details in mind, maybe something desperate, needy, feral on Sam's part but he's too shy and sweet to act upon it? Maybe?

Whatever you'll write, I'm positive I'll love it haha

ough... perfect request to begin with, thank u so much for ur patience in waiting for me to get to it!! magic pocket pussy is one of my favourite tropes to write about, even if it's a bit obscure hehe... u can have so much fun with it !!

hope you enjoy this piece <3 !!

— ✧ warnings: magic pocket pussy, sex toy, dubcon, brief cunnilingus, masturbation (m solo), pussyjob, premature ejaculation — ✧ word count: 2,461 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)

— ✧ A/N: i used the word "fap" exactly once in this writing so if u hate it im sorry but i think it's so sexy. that's all :D...

When desperate times call for desperate measures, you often find yourself in the kind of situation that you never thought possible, right? Sam, too, finds himself in the midst of a certain predicament. A particularly vexing position that he's not sure how to resolve in the most effective manner, torn between his heart and his brain. And to be honest, he wouldn't have even been placed in such a messy state of affairs if it wasn't for his previous bout of indecision too, just like now, chewing at his bottom lip as he gently squeezes the soft object between his sweaty palm. Anxiety churns thickly in his chest as he remain idle, choking on thin air as he stares blanky off into space.

Except his mind isn't anywhere near as blank as his face lets on, thoughts racing, one after another— should he? He really shouldn't... He's not dumb, he knows what the right answer is, it's just that he might be stupid enough not to take it is all.

On one hand, the toy between his fingers is the closest he can get to you at the moment, lest he somehow grows enough courage to confess his true feelings in the hopes of getting a single sweet taste of the real deal; but that hasn't happened this far. And he doubts it'll pass him by soon. And on the other hand, fuck, he knows that what his heart—and his rock hard cock—wants more than anything right now is wrong. God, it'd be so fucking wrong, wouldn't it? Just terrible of him to follow through with his wishes, all because he's too chicken to ask you out on a date.

... And yet.

He's not proud of himself, giving in to his more baser emotions as the magic pocket pussy stares back at him, even just catching sight of the soft pink toy causes his cock to twitch against his pants, a prompt hiss escaping him at the rough contact between his leaking tip and underwear. You need to know that he's sorry, that he's no better than those he means to beat when it comes to obtaining your affections— he's just better at hiding his misdeeds. Right, yeah. That's all. It should be okay if he just... Doesn't let you know, right? He's just curious is all, and you're so kind hearted that you'd probably understand his inability to withhold himself when it comes to you, even just the mere imitation of you, right? After all, he's just a man at the end of the day.

A needy, desperate, cheek chewing, anxious leg bouncing man, allowing his thumb to smooth over the outer lips of the faux toy with seedy intent. And his reaction is almost immediate, spare the way his mind lags behind out of nervousness.

Oh, you're so soft. Bringing the toy up to meet his gaze, throat drying up the instant he takes a proper good look at all the folds and creases, gulping down the sight of the perfect little hole that's just begging for his touch. A shudder runs through him as he continues to stroke just the outer lips of the toy, doing a better job of edging himself as opposed to teasing you. Not that he can know just how much he might be teasing you right now, given that you're likely alone in bed at the old farmhouse as he plays with himself in his childhood bedroom. But nonetheless, the way his cock twitches and leaks for attention—your attention—is enough for him to know that he's the loser in this instance. Pathetic right down to the way his fingers tremble against the toy, how his tongue starts to poke out from between his wobbly lips, dying to prove himself to you from the shadow. God, he's had a crush on you for fucking ever, it's embarrassing how he's this whipped for a fucking fleshlight of you.

No matter, honestly. It's not like you're around to bear witness to just how much he needs you, how tight and taut his balls are at the mere thought of pleasuring you. To see how deplorable he truly is deep down inside, enough to yearn for your tight hole regardless of your presence. It's sickening, makes his tummy flip with butterflies when he takes a greedy inhale of the toy slit, huffing eagerly to see if it even owns your smell and— "Fuck—" so good, smell so fucking good just like he'd imagined, snapping the last straw of restraint his rational mind was desperately clinging on to in favour of letting his tongue loll out to lick a fat stripe up and down your cute little cunt; and he's instantly done for.

Knew he would be, truthfully. So down bad for you it borders on obsession, the twinge of guilt pittering against his heart is easily overtaken by the hard throb of his cock, though. Convincing him to continue, to give in to his instincts more so as to make you feel just how much he loves you, even if you've got no idea that it's him behind that strange late night feeling between your legs.

Because the toy is linked to you, of course. Based off your form, an apparently perfect replica of your most private parts— or so the wizard in that creepy old tower had promised him. And he's inclined to believe that old man just due to how fucking cute the faux cunt is, can imagine it suiting you so perfectly, poking his tongue between the faux folds experimentally, just to see if he can gain any sort of reaction out of you.

In the meantime of wetting your pretty pussy up for him, he wrestles with his jeans and tugs them off with his boxers soon following suit. Leaving his bottom half completely bare, tight fist automatically squeezing at the base of his throbbing cock in an effort to relieve some of the built up pressure just looking at your cunt has built within him, but it barely does the job. Prompting a low whine to escape his dry throat, murmured right against your hole as he sticks his tongue into it, exploring your squishy insides with an unintentionally eye roll— "Fuuuuh—" he babbles, unable to properly enunciate his curses due to fucking his tongue in and out of you out of sheer need. An undeniable requirement to tongue fuck out as much of your cunt juices as possible; that'll mean that the wizard wasn't lying, surely.

And oh, he can just imagine the look on your face so well right now. Cute furrowed brows, maybe your lips are parted just that small amount in both confusion and enjoyment, right? He wonders if you'd be searching between your legs just as frantically as he sucks and licks all over your cunt, slurping at your hole once or twice more before coming to the conclusion that shit, the old man was telling the truth.

A string of saliva and slick mixed together connects him to your cunt, another gush of it dripping from your hole from assumed contractions as he drops the pocket pussy to his waist, hovering it just behind his cock while his arm works automatically. Dumb eyed stare, moving off of instincts alone, giving in to his innermost desires when it comes to you with a quick snap of his wrist up and down his erection, his mouth hanging open to freely pant and moan into the night air because it feels so fucking good to finally have a taste of you. An albeit small one, but he's not about to complain when he can still taste you on his lips, licking himself clean as he instead focuses on the slick up and down of his hand on pulsing cock, simply admiring the view of your cunt from afar. It somehow feels better than ever before, now that he knows that he really shouldn't be doing this to you right now, but he's not some kind of monster, you should at least know that.

He won't stick his dick in you, not yet. Far too shy to, really. Even if there's no one around to witness his perversion. He still likes you, wants more than anything to make you feel good, and he's sure that the feeling of some phantom dick ruining your inside might scare you for good. But— his cock still throbs and his balls still ache for release, all the pumping away at his length is doing very little to offer him resolution.

There are things yet that he can do with the toy that will satisfy both you and himself. Things that won't scare you too badly, and that won't push his limits too far. He might need you more than words can say at the moment, but he figures he can work up to it eventually. Need to encourage himself first.

For now, he settles with angling his cock towards the toy cunt hole, mouth watering from the heat he can feel radiating from it. Such a slippery slope he's found himself in, gliding his cock head against your slit, letting his precum dribble out all over your folds, coating his knuckles sticky too from the copious amounts of it as it trickles down. Ah, if only you were here to see the things you do to him, maybe then you'd understand why he's unable to restrain himself right now. Shuffling to lay down on his bed in a more comfortable position, pocket pussy held stationary for him to simulate the act of sex more accurately, lifting and dropping his hips against the outside of the toy with plenty of hushed curses falling from his bitten lips. It's late at night, and he's huddled amongst his bedsheets, cock completely out, rubbing one out against what he knows is your cunt, hoping that you can feel every drip and drop of precum the warm heat of your folds fuck out of him as he slips and slides against you, letting his head fall back against the pillow behind him in utter bliss, no residual regret left in his body because your cunt—the simulated version of it—feels almost too good to be true.

"I can't—" He breathlessly laughs to himself, cutting off into a gasped moan, rushing air in through his teeth for him to tut at when a slick gush coats his cock all tacky and shiny in return, as if you can hear how utterly done for he is, tone whiny and high pitched all for you. Good girl, you must be enjoying his touch too, right? Every coating of your slick up and down his humping cock is like a promise, a way for you to communicate: it's okay, keep going. He can't be doing anything too bad if your body is enjoying his rocking so much, right? Pressing his tip against your clit, fucking his full fat length against your pretty slit. Pretty little angel cunt, taking his cock so well— "Can't fuckin' stop, 'm sorry—" But he's not. Not really, he'd never apologise for getting you so wet, bucking his hips faster against the toy cunt with every stroke, choked moans just barely escaping him as his eyes squeeze shut in pure pleasure, because you feel so good. Too good it's almost unfair, assaulting you from afar, a mix of lewd thoughts swirling in his otherwise absent mind.

Your pretty face, all contorted. Enjoyment? Horror? What must you be feeling right now? Are you getting off too? Flicking that cute little clit he keeps rubbing precum against, stretching your cunt wide open with sticky fingers as if asking for more? Fuck, he wants so badly to give it to you, to ram his dick so deep in that little hole, stretch your squishy walls into his cock shape, but even now he knows that to be a terrible idea. In spite of how fucking feral he feels right now, frantically humping the air, pressing his cock harsher against your slit in an effort to claim presence. Look, he begs with each stroke. It's me that's making you feel so good.

And he can imagine how messy your bed must be too, sheets thrown off your sweating body in favour of inspecting your cunt, hair all bunched up with the throw back of your head, tossing and turning and squealing every time his balls rock against the toy, fully humped up your slit, only to eagerly drop back down again, over and over again to leave a cute little mess on your sheets. A mess of his own making, dribbling down to you ass to stain you sticky; yeah, that's it. He can see the scene so perfectly, so intricately, right down to the way your hole must be clenching around nothing, seeking his tip to catch and fuck you so full of nice thick cock but he can't. He simply can't stop rutting against your slit for long enough to slide inside, fapping himself silly, mind muddled and eyes glazed over as he really leans into the wet squelch of his every fuck up and down and—

Oh, he didn't realise that he was so close to the edge. Moving the pocket pussy up and down just a little, enough to offer him a minor amount of extra stimulation to the red hot tip of his cock, to spread his precum all over your cunt, but it proves to be too much for his fragile mind. Completely pussy whipped from the imitation, cumming before he even realises what's happening, his body folding in on itself as he squishes the toy against his cum coated tip, making sure to mark every rope of load somewhere against your slit. He can't really see though. Eyes squeezed shut, the grip he has of the toy tightening rhythmically, like a stress ball, while he cakes your slit in sticky seed. He feels winded, honestly.

But still he whispers you name when he feels like he can breathe again, a couple more spurts of cum milked from his cock as he runs the slick mixture up and down his length, wincing at the way it all seems to collect at his balls, all wet and icky as the weight of his actions soon come knocking again. A twist in his tummy, tension in his chest as he ogles the painted white toy.

Well, he can remedy it by making you cum too, right? Already lifting the prettily ruined cunt to his lips, tongue already poking out in preparation to eat you out all night.

It's okay, he'll bring you coffee tomorrow morning to make up for selfishly stealing your bed time.

[muwapsturniolo]

✯Matt dating a black girl✯

-he doesn’t know how he pulled you fr but he’s very happy he did

-if you’re rowdy (like me fr) he gets stressed.

-I’m talking deep sighs and rubbing over his face in frustration

-“bitches can’t say excuse me?”

-“y/n please don’t start.”

-“you saying that makes me want to start”

-when he gets in his lil moods (tough guy) yall bud heads

-“Matt who are you talking to cause I know damn well it’s not me!”

-hears your tone and apologizes (it’s the same tone our mommas use when we talk back💀)

-for my soft black girlies, you always have him giggling like a lil girl

-“you so handsome, I just wanna smother you in kisses!”

-if he catches an attitude with you and you gets upset, he’s on his knees saying sorry.

-if you got ass, he can’t handle the twerking😭 his head actually moves in circles and his eyes are WIDE!!!

-sexxy redd comes on at a party and you start dancing, this man starts blushing and everyone tells him he can’t handle you (he can)

-he loves when you sit on his lap. Chairs are available? He does not give af, SIT ON HIS LAP!!!

-if you got titties, his eyes won’t stay off of em. You could be wearing a regular tshirt and he gonna be like 👀

-“Matt stop looking at my boobs I’m literally in my wash day tshirt”

-“don’t care, I’m not arguing with a girl who has big boobs!”

-speaking of wash day

-this man loves watching the process

-keeps asking questions like a lil kid

-“what’s this for? Why do you need to many creams and oils? Does that hurt? WHY IS SO MUCH HAIR COMING OUT!?”

-“stop talking to me because my hair isn’t acting right and I’m two seconds away from crying and hitting myself with this brush.”

-wants to help but chooses not too, afraid he will put the wrong creme in the wrong order

-he loves going to the beauty supply because the aunties fawn over him.

-“hey Matt baby! Our girl treating you right?”

-“hi auntie Yolanda. She is, but she got mad because I didn’t get her candy she wanted.”

-“y/n if you don’t leave this boy alone!”

-“I didn’t even do anything!”

-buys all your stuff with no problem!

-“you always smell like pancakes and syrup.”

-goes feral over your shea butter, coco butter, vanilla, brown sugar scent.

-I’m talking he wants to be all over you and possibly have sex anywhere.

-“Matt we are in the car going to my parents house!”

-“Please? I’ll be quick.”

-he doesn’t not understand time! If you don’t know what I mean, let me explain.

-“shouldn’t we be leaving now? It starts at 5.”

-“no. 5 means you will be helping set up. We need to be there at 6:15.”

-blinks at you in confusion but nods anyway.

-if you not that close to your fam he gets confused as to why

-“don’t you think you should talk to them? That argument happened two years ago?”

-“and I’ll still swing at thanksgiving dinner!”

-loves eating at your parents house but thinks everything is supper spicy.

-“Matt it’s literally just seasoning salt?¿”

-“are you sure?”

-lowkey gets mouthy with your family on accident but he apologizes when your mom gives him, the look (yall know what im talking about)

-At the cook out he’s gets roped in to grilling.

-mf suddenly has a towel over his shoulder and joking with your uncles.

-he does sum that makes you and your fam look at him oddly.

-“Gon head and sit at the kids table baby.”

That’s all I can think of💀 hope yall enjoy

TAG LIST 🍑

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[thedeathwitchescats]

Okay, review time!! If you are one of the oddballs who thinks you cant be critical of something you love I suggest you stop reading now before I ruffle your feathers. Iron flame, second in the empyrean series. I am gonna start with what I was not a fan of and then go into the shit I adored.

1) what in the actual fuck was the pacing of this book?? I can tell you what, it was non existent. There was none. Where I thought there was a lot of filler in the last book there was none in this one. We got snap shots of conversations and then *boom* more plot flew at you. The timeline of this book greatly suffered for it i think bc we end only a couple weeks, if that, after threshing, which happens sometimes in October. This book was actually so wild with times.

2) while it was a spectacular cliff hanger, xaden becoming venin pisses me off. Especially if Rebecca yarros isnt going to have him tell violet. Like if that small tid bit of a conversation we got wasnt him telling vi that he was venin then the entire romantic conflict of this book was rendered pointless and their going to be having the same fucking fight for the rest of the series and at rhat point I give up.

3) I understand that the revolution is trying to take down basgaith and make the world better or whatever the fuck but can someone actually formulate a real plan for me?? Because I feel like their mission is just, giving violet and xaden something to be pissed at each other about.

4) the entirety of cats character. I get that she was set up as a spin on the typical jealous ex. Like having her be bitter about xaden picking violet over her but OH WAIT it wasnt actually about the man it was about the crown, oohh not like other girls. Im a writer too I see the point. I dont care. I think it was trashy. If you wanted her to be a bitter spiteful ex then have her be a bitter spiteful ex, the whole crown thing was shallow.

OKAY haters your time is up now onto the shit that made my heart hurt with joy and sadness

1) xadens arc in this book. I really liked that he went from "transparency is never gonna happen" to losing his fucking mind over violet and giving her everything. I love feral men and he qualifies. I think his arc was really well done and i liked it.

2) I appericiate that violet stuck to her guns for this book. She wouldnt let xaden off without a fight and I loved that. She made him bow and scrape and I was eating it up. It was spectacular.

3) the throne room scene. Violet on the throne. "Im making a temporary point not a lasting vow of maschocism" xaden being feral.

4) that gets its own point actually, just xaden being completely feral this entire book healed a part of my soul.

5) andarna's little speech at the end where she was like "I waited for you violet" made me ugly cry. That was just so hopelessly good I loved it. Andarna in general heals my heart but that part was just *chefs kiss*

6) tarin being completely and utterly ready to eat people this entire book. Just, at every turn "I want lunch their pissing me off " was spectacular

7) every scene their squad was in. Rihannon, violet, sawyer and ridoc are my roman empire. Their bond is so amazing. The fact that they launched a rescue mission for violet. Rihannon being ready to kill xaden at every turn. Ridoc being so platonically and adorably in love with violet. Just- augh happy cries happy cries. I love it all. Their so special tbh.

8) I love xaden actually, just, the whole book every scene hes in lives in my brain.

9) I liked that we saw a small bit of violet being feral this book too. I hope that we get more of that in future books. I want more of violet losing her fucking mind. Hot, badass women covered in blood

10) Liam. Fucking Liam. When violet was kidnapped and Liam was there. Now, do I logically understand that he was a hallucination, yes, do i care?? No. He was a gift from Maleck I will be hearing no critiques on that. It was so fucking sweet and amazing. I love violet and Liam and Liam being dead so horribly breaks my heart. I loved Liam. Liams death lives rent free in my skull.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey love! if you're still accepting requests, could I get an extremely wild, rough and feral nsfw Daemon x wife fem!reader please? (feel free to ignore and sorry if the request is weird, but I'm thirsty for this handsome fictional man who unfortunately doesn't exist)

Frost Bite

Daemon Targayen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You were travelling back to home soil in anticipation of your wolf's heat cycle. Besides the fact that you could not stand the sound of your prince husband's breathing and the fact you were certain he would perish in the cold, there was one more reason why you did not want him to join you: the fact the heat was affecting you too.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Basically PWP, 5k+ SMUT T_T (non-con [daemon touches her while she's asleep], virgin!reader, she cries for various reasons, fingering, choking, biting, degradation kink, corruption kink, spitting, marking, edging, oral [fem receiving], breeding kink, cream pie), RIP feminism, opens with a wet dream, brief mentions of near death experience in a snow storm, dark!daemon (but imo its just canon daemon) fem!reader, wife!Reader, soft!daemon, typos, etc.

A/N: YEAH MINORS DNI. LOL SO I was planning to write this for my part 2 of my Stark!Reader, but i got lazy and didn't want to create a whole plot leading up to the smut, so i removed it all together, which I guess worked out swell for you nonnie, since I was planning something absolutely unhinged. I hope you liked that fic of mine since you're basically getting a p3 of it So here's part 1, here's part 2, but you don't need to read any of them to understand, but i suggest you do for background cos lol this is PWP T_T Next part ig but its a blurb "✨Magic✨" OMG NEXT PART BUT ITS NOT A BLURB "Moon Cycle" Also nonnie, i wanted to tell you albeit asking for smut is pretty awkward HAHAHAH you gotta process these feelings somehow you know. i mean, we could have been criminals, like Daemon, instead but we're not, and that's what matters (unless you are a criminal in which case im closing my eyes) this gif of him is so large on pc but idc he's so hot MATT I WANT YOU SO BAD FUCK OFF if someone snitches to big brother again like in In Your Defense /: Idk if you want to be, but I'm tagging everyone I tagged in the previous fic, as well as the others that commented there SO HI THIS IS SMUT YOU CAN GO IF YOU WANT LOL HAHHAH @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda @moonmaiden1996 @thatmysteriousblog

I caught him. I caught him doing the very thing I dreaded to catch him do. The one thing I accused him of doing every night, though in my heart of hearts I wished he did not... not that I would ever admit it to his face. Because why would I? Admitting it would mean- "You want me," Daemon heaved against the neck of the woman beneath him. He cranes his neck up as he thrust into her, smirking, eyes dark, "you want this to be you," he pants as he stares at me, "don't you?" I am in my place, frozen, watching and hearing the woman come undone underneath my husband who kisses her tenderly. "Daemon," I whimper helplessly, teary eyed, "Daemon please." "Fuck off."

I jolt awake, sweat sheening my neck and chest. I turn to my bed, empty, because though Daemon insisted we sleep together and I could not fight him in his decision, he did not return to me until nigh dawn.

I wipe my face as I recall my intensifying dreams.

It seems my travels up North would come quicker than anticipated.

And as much as I wanted to tell him I told you so, oh to all the gods, how badly he deserved it, there was no time for me to gloat when Daemon did the very thing I warned him not to, fall into the icy river.

It was instantaneous. The cracking of the ice, the splashing of water, the scream that escaped me. Maybe I should have left him in the cave we kept Caraxes, who he insisted on bringing. But then again he would have insisted on joining me to the cabin, the way he insisted on joining me here up North in the first place.

And now I had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

It was sheer miracle that I got him out of the river without falling into it myself, sheer stupidity of me to rid him of his coat and offer him mine when the blistering snow storm was not relenting, and quite clearly the sheer will of the gods that both of us made it to the cabin... barely.

The moment we walked in, I shut the door and scrambled towards the fireplace. As my fingers shivered, I thought of Havoc, and how at least I know she would find mine and Daemon's corpses if ever we do not make it. I had sent her away when the storm came out of nowhere because we had to find cover for Caraxes, and she would not have been any of help to us if she were here with us anyway.

My poor pup. She would be heartbroken if she saw me frozen. And Caraxes...

I curse the flint, I curse the cold, I curse the gods, and I curse Daemon for every time I failed to light a fire. I thanked the Stranger for finally allowing me the mercy of my eventual success.

Once the fire was burning steady, I get on my feet and run to Daemon, hauling him over to the fire roughly in haste where he helpelessly kneels in front of. He could do nothing but shiver as I scramble to get some dry clothes and sheets for the both of us.

I yank him closer to the fire and begin to undress him.

Seeing as he is nothing but docile to my actions and how his skin was turning grey, I began to grow frantic, "you cannot fucking die, you prick!"

I rip his top off and quickly clothe him, "I did not go through all the trouble of marrying you for nothing. I refuse to be forced into another marriage because your stupid ass froze to death."

Daemon's shudder comes out in a thick condensation.

"Fuck," I whimper, as I struggle to get him out of his boots and breeches.

I shrivel up at the feel of his frozen fingers then brush against my arm and I shake my head rapidly, realizing there was no choice. The only way I can warm him quickly enough is if I share my own.

I strip him naked, pulling off the shirt I struggled to put on him as well, then wrap him in a fur blanket in the meantime. I then take off my own clothes and hiss at the nipping cold.

The fact Daemon does not even look at my naked form strikes a chord in me.

I straighten him up and fix the blankets on his legs and thighs before I sit on his lap. I press my bare chest against his and whimper at his dangerously concerning coldness.

He shivers against me as his face rests helplessly on my shoulder. His breath that hits my skin is not even hot.

"Remember, you're too fucking stubborn to die," I say as I wrap my legs around his torso and graciously place his fingers beneath my bottom.

His lack of warmth literally brings tears to my eyes.

I reach out for the other blanket and wrap it over myself, consequently Daemon, before I wrap my arms around him and breathe hotly against his face.

I rub his back, "will you allow irony to take you? The hot blooded prince defeated by the cold?"

He releases a shiver and moves his head. He mutters something, but his quaking body does not allow me to make sense of it.

"Do not waste your energy," I chide.

And so for a long moment, we stay like this, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing each other's heat. I do my best to warm him. I even nuzzle against him, the way Havoc did me, just so I could warm his stupid face.

Daemon finally finds it in him to lean against my touch, and when he does, he mutters under his breath, "irony-" shudder, "-would be if the- N-Northern princ-ces-s-ss died in the cold."

My face contorts and yet I cannot help but chuckle at him, glad he can sputter his nonsense again, "then I should make Caraxes burn you for your stupidity."

I shiver when I feel his icy lips kiss my neck. Goosebumps form on my skin when I feel the hot breath that follows. My hands rake up to his nape, where I then dig my fingers as I pull away.

"N-n-nno!" he stutters, hands coming around my hips to brace me tightly, "I ss-swear I'm not warm yet-t-t."

I pull back again though to face him when I said, "I only wanted to tell you," I lean my forehead against his face, "I fucking told you so, you stupid idiot."

I rest my face on his shoulder and close my eyes, knowing I would not be off him any time soon.

I dream about him. I dream about kissing his shivers away. I dream about pulling the fur blanket that separated our legs away, and riding him until he was warm.

I dream about how good he feels, and how he burns inside me. I dream about calling his name, unlike how I did in my other dreams. I was no longer calling out in betrayal, I was calling out in pleasure.

Daemon.

Daemon.

"Daemon," I trail off in a groan, willing my heavy eyelids open. I feel pressure building up inside me before I understand what's happening.

I not know how, but I am laid on a bed, head on a pillow, form still naked. Daemon is sat up beside me, peering down at me and his hands.

I whine.

His fingers-

"Oh fucking hell," he groans as his other hand begins to knead at my breasts, "you feels so good wrapped around my fingers, I-"

I cut him off with my squeak, hands flying to his arm, thighs closing shut, squeezing this hand in between my thighs.

"Daemon," the dazed quality of my voice is gone.

He tilts his head, face twisting, a challenge.

When I struggle and wrangle against him, all it takes is his hand on my throat to make me go still. I barely manage a choke and my breath continues to leave me as his fingers quicken their pace inside me.

He only releases me after I shake and shudder when I come.

It is overwhelming and nothing at all like I have dreamed or imagined, unlike all the times I've touched myself in secret. It was intense but there was a shame tied to it.

My entire body is hot and tears prick my eyes at his relentless ministrations.

"You were too fucking ready for that," Daemon mutters dryly as he quickly pulls away and shifts in his spot, "how long have you imagined fucking me, hmm?"

Before I even have the brain to do something, he crawls down the bed, "was it when you caught me touching myself to you?" He sinks down, grabbing my legs, "or have you done it before and withheld me of your sweet cunt for no fucking reason?"

All at once, he brings his face between my legs and begins to lick all the slickness off my pulsing core.

"DAEMON!" I scream, pressing my thighs close as I push myself up on my elbows, trying to break free of him.

He ignores me and forces my legs open even as I kick them in protest, "you will not deny me something you so clearly want yourself."

He grunts and pushes my legs down before grabbing my hands that were shoving him away, "you fucking bitch," he grips me tightly, "you will not find it in yourself to fight me off once I make a whore out of you."

I growl at his words, feeling my stomach drop along with my tears because of it.

I was realizing just how strong he really was, and how in moments where our arguments got a bit physical, he has probably holding back. The revelation of this does not cease my attempts at freeing myself, but it is as pointless as I feared.

Daemon rises up from his spot, nearing me, up until he is breathing against my cheek and rubbing his hardened length against my wetness.

I turn away from him, unable to really do anything else and shudder as he speaks, "you said it yourself, you did not go through all this trouble marrying me for nothing."

I screw my eyes shut, feeling tears fall, "Daemon."

He shushes me, pulling my arms up above my head, "you should not worry. I refuse to die now that I know of your lust."

I whimper as he rolls his hips against me, "still, the idea of someone claiming you- fuck-" he groans gutturally, "had I died..." he trails of in another groan, "someone else would have gotten my prize and it would have been all be your fault."

Daemon squeezes my wrist in one hand then grabs my jaw, forcing me to turn to him. I keep my eyes shut though as he heaves hotly, "I should utterly ruin every part of you so you can never have anyone but me. Though make no mistake, I would never let that happen as I so fucking breathe."

"Hypocrite," I scoff.

He laughs and I tense at the feeling of his vibrations, "she speaks."

I dare to look at him as I pant, "you do not desire me. You're just a spoiled brat who merely wants to wet his cock, just like how you do every night."

"Oh," he groans, "is this jealousy I hear?" He squeezes my cheeks, "is my pretty whore jealous that she is not the only one?"

"Fuck you!" I manage out though muffled.

Daemon laughs at the feel of tears rushing down his fingers, "do not cry, foolish wife. I'll have you know I have not wet my cock ever since I called out your name when I fucked someone else before our wedding day."

He releases my face. I attempt to even out my breath.

"I hadn't even realized until she asked me who-"

"And you think you deserve an award for that?!" I quip through my heavy breathing.

He lets out a laugh that makes me whimper, "I think you ought to know that mine own want for you has made everyone else undesirable," he licks my cheek, making me pull my head away from him, "I have been so pent up in want and for what? Because you're too bull headed to allow me anything other than my lonely hand?"

I try to wrangle out of his grip again, and he presses his whole body on me in response, "it's quite adorable that you still have it in you act like you didn't just call my name out loud while you dreamt of fucking me."

He rubs his nose against my jaw, "you wanna know how I know?"

"Fuck off-"

"You were rutting against me like a hussy," he sighs, "by the gods, had I known you were so wanton at night, I would have never granted you the insult of sleeping alone."

I could feel myself burn hotter with each word that leaves his lips despite myself. I did not want him to catch me like this, but there was no use; I was already caught.

As Daemon rocks his hips on mine, he hisses, undoubtedly feeling how much wetter I had gotten was beneath him.

"Fuck," he trails off, "here's what going to happen," he whispers, rutting against me rougher.

I cannot for the life of me withhold my whimper.

He chuckles as he presses his face against mine, "I'm going to make you come with my tongue and then I'm going to fuck you until you cry."

"Daemon, please stop-"

"Your heartbeat against my cock and how fucking wet you are disagrees with your protest, little liar," he croons. He lifts his head, then leans his forehead against mine, "don't worry, my little virgin, you will not cry because it hurts, you will cry because you'll want it so bad that it hurts."

"Daemon-"

"You will not refuse me," he whispers, though it is anything but sweet, "not when there is not a sliver of doubt in my mind that you want this too."

He brings his hands to my neck again and I wait for his grip to tighten, but it does not, "now say it."

I look up at him as my breathing quickens.

"Yield," he commands, breathing heavily all of a sudden.

I look up at him feeling my belly swirl in ways I could not ever explain.

"Admit to both our ears that you burn for me just as I have been fucking burning for you."

I yelp when he puts pressure on my throat then releases it.

"Say it," he barks.

"I-"

"Say you want me," he says softer this time.

I am disarmed by his quick change in tone and a shiver leaves me as the cold finds its way to my belly as he pulls away. Daemon releases my hands then begins to crawl down. His eyes are fixed on my as he mutters once more, "say it."

I shudder as he presses my thighs against his cheeks then whispers, almost begging, "say it."

I turn away from him and close my eyes, awaiting his next actions, for it was not like I could stop him if I refuse.

"Say it," he urges louder, "you know you want to."

I clench my jaw, "just do what you want and be done with it."

He growls, and goosebumps form on my skin when I feel him bite at the inner most part of my thigh. I grip at the sheets at the feel of teeth and tongue. I bite my lips tightly to keep myself from making any noise.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Daemon mutters.

I yelp and look down at him when his finger strokes my core.

His eyes are dark as he airily chuckles at my reaction, "after all I have given you my name, my Targaryen queen. You are no longer your own, you are forever mine."

I watch him as he lifts his head up and kisses my sopping heat. I flinch when he nips at me, drawing my nub out with his teeth. He lifts his head as he releases my flesh. His chin is glistening with my slick as he says, "I want you."

My breath leaves me when he says this.

"And I know you want me too, but I have to-- I need you to say it." He repositions himself in my thighs, "you are after all married to maniac," he breathes against me, "now, say it."

He shakes my thighs, "SAY IT!"

"I want you," I snap, "Daemon, I-" a loud cry rips out of me before I can even continue.

The sound of him lapping his tongue on me, eating me out as if I was his final meal, was somehow louder than my cries. I cannot help but so violently react to him as he devours me. He forces me still in his grip and fights off the movement of my thighs with his face.

It seems as though my admittance has reduced me into nothing but needy sounds.

Without another thought, my hands reach down at him and dig into his silver hair. I arch my back and pull at him when his tongue flicks into me.

"Fucking slut," he mutters, squeezing my thighs as he pulls me apart.

I scream out his name as he digs his face deeper into me. I lift my head up when he pulls away to laugh, "look at you, rutting against me like the needy whore you are."

I don't have time to find offence in his words because I still, not even realizing I was in fact moving my hips against him. He laughs as he continues his work, leaving me no time to feel embarrassment and only hot pleasure.

He is fucking good at what he does. He's so fucking good that my mind wanders where it should not. How much practice has he gotten to be this good? It is precisely because of this that I finally break, "all for you, Daemon," I grab his cheeks, "all for you-- all mine."

I do not see how his eyes dart up to me for I then throw my head back and whine. I feel myself come close to my undoing, "fuck, Daemon, don't stop."

I shriek when I bites me.

Just as I am inching so close, all at once, he pulls away from me.

I pant and stiffen as I hear and feel him spit on me. Much like all other moments, I do not have time to react. When I turn to him, he grabs my legs and shoves me to my side.

I begin to panic when he rises to his knees.

"I'll be fucking damned if I don't make you come on my cock right now," he grunts, making my eyes drop down to the very thing, erect, hard, and angry.

"Get on your knees, bitch," he blurts, though he doesn't give me much of a chance to as he drags me up into the position he wants me by my hips.

I haven't even propped myself up on my arms yet when he unceremoniously begins to pound into me.

I am certain if anyone could hear us in the middle of this storm, they would think I was mad, or worse, being tortured.

"I'm going to breed that prurient wolf in you, just as I'm sure your wolf, Havoc, is being bred right now."

I growl at the idea and feel my belly tighten at his words.

Daemon groans before he chuckles, "that's it, isn't it?"

His relentless thrusts begin to grow sloppy. Suddenly, he yanks me by my hair and lifts me up. His other hand slaps to my throat to offer painful support as he pulls me up against him.

I choke on my spit when my form presses against him with difficulty. He sinks down on his knees, my core wrapped around his length as he shifts me in a snug position atop him.

His hands make their way to my breasts to roughly grope them. His teeth sink down on my shoulder.

I release a wild sound as my own hands come on top of his. I am left moaning at how his mouth sinks into my skin.

Daemon makes sure to suck hard before pulling away. For a moment he catches his breath before speaking, "you did not want me here because you are affected by your wolf's heat, aren't you."

The way I begin to slowly bounce on top of him is enough of an answer to him.

He laughs as his hands depart from my tender breasts, one going down to my sensitive nub, the other sealing my throat again, "you are a fucking selfish bitch for keeping your cunt from me."

My breathing becomes arduous when he tightens his grip around me.

"You would have preferred to touch yourself to the thought of me?" he questions as he rubs on my sensitive nub.

"Daemon," I gasp, pushing my head back as his lips latch on my neck again.

He ceases the moment of his fingers as he finishes grazing on my skin. "Yes, my pretty whore?" he mutters in between his kisses, "what do you want, hmm?"

My breathing strains when his hand tightens around my throat more. I catch my breath when he releases his grip to push my hair off to the side, "tell me what you want me to do to you."

I call out his name. He calls out mine.

I find myself grabbing his hands as I moan out, "I want you to fuck me."

Without another word, I am thrown down to the bed. The only reason I'm still on him is because of his hands that latch on my hips.

I am nothing against his strength. He handles me like a ragdoll, fucking me with absolutely no regard and nothing else in mind.

I make sounds that mean nothing. His name is polluted by my whimpers and cries that you cannot make head or tail of.

I would not last any longer with how he was handling me, even if I wanted to, even if I tried.

"That's it my easy bitch," he pants, "come around me like the needy whore you are."

"Daemon-"

"Your eager cunt will take my seed well when I fill you up," his one hand leaves my hip and rips my head back by my hair again, "don't you think, pretty wife?"

"Yes," I reply without thinking, "yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"And you will give me your pups," he mutters, "bare my dragons, like a dutiful wife will you not?"

My only response is my body breaking orgasm. I shiver beneath him, falling powerless as I scream his name and crumble, absolutely boneless.

Daemon lets out a string of curses as he milks out my reaction for all he's got.

He does not waver once bit and it maddeningly delicious.

My voice hikes up when I feel him release inside me not too late after.

"Fucking come slut," he barks as he snaps his hips in me, "take it all just like that."

I bury my screams in the cushions he presses on, unrelenting. When he finally does grow sloppy, I take a moment to catch my breath and relish the feel of him.

I whimper when he pulls away and slaps my ass.

"The absolute mess you've made of yourself," he coos, as he rubs the skin he slapped.

I can feel myself leaking, I can feel it all over my legs, on the sheets, and I could practically feel his pleased smile as he watches the lewd display. I could not bring myself to care at all though, not when my legs begin to fall.

I squeak when Daemon rearranges me on the bed. He is not at all as rough as he was with me a while ago, but his strength and my lack thereof does not really allow him to be gentle.

He falls onto the side of the bed next to me and gathers me into his chest. When I roll over to him, I groan at the feeling of my wet thighs pressing together.

"Do not make issue of that," Daemon says as he watches me squirm. He pulls me close to him, arm over my shoulders. His other hand hooks behind my knee, dragging me atop him. I whimper and push my hand on his chest when I feel core empty out on his thigh.

He does not allow me to pull away and I turn to him because of this. Daemon forces me close against him, "are you so haughty over my come that you cannot bare the thought of it-"

"But it's getting everywhere," I start off loudly but end with a whisper.

Daemon's nostrils flare as he shakes his head, "I should sure hope so."

I feel my cheeks burn and so I decide to hide my face in his chest.

His laughter intensifies, and I do not enjoy how my head bounces on his ribcage because of it.

"Oh meekness suits you well, my dear."

I weakly mumble, "fuck off."

His amusement continues as he rubs my arms, "you mean, 'I want you to fuck me, Daemon.' "

"I did not say it like that!" I quip, lifting my head as I turn to him, finally making him cease his stupid laughter. The sight of his stupid smug face still glimmering in slick renders me frozen.

Suddenly I am aware of how cold the room still was.

"Pray tell, how did you say it?" he hums, pushing hair behind my ear.

I furrow my brows and press my cheek on his chest again, admitting lowly, "I didn't say your name at the end."

"My," he draws shapeless figures on my skin, "I'm glad to know the moment is burned in your very being."

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, scratching my eye. It dawns onto me that my face was equally as wet as Daemon's. Heat rises up my face again when I realize I really did cry because of how good he felt.

"Don't fret," he sighs, "there is a reason why you should not worry yourself about how your pretty cunt is leaking blood and come. I shall fuc-"

I turn to him in concern and push myself up.

Daemon furrows his brows and shakes his head, "it is normal," he soothes, grabbing my cheek, "or did you just forget your maidenhood was still intact after imagining fucking me?"

I am suddenly aware how real everything was. My husband has finally gotten me to consummate our marriage and all his talk of me bearing his seed could may well come true. My chest begins to constrict as my mind floods with endless scenarios.

"Well, if you start frowning like that, I might actually feel bad," Daemon mutters, lifting himself up on his elbows, "what's wrong?"

I look at his concerned expression and find myself speaking before I realize, "did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" he clarifies quickly.

"That you want me," I quip just as fast.

He stares at me for a moment, as if he was taken aback or measuring the truthfulness in my voice. When a prolonged moment passes between us, he realizes I was serious.

"Fuck," he drops his head back, "it must be exhausting to be a woman with your overthinking."

"Well, pardon me for not-"

"You are pardoned," he blurts, making me whimper when he suddenly flips us over.

I am beneath him again. He does nothing but press his weight on me, but I struggle beneath him, not enjoying the idea of remaining in an uncomfortable position.

He misreads my intentions and hinders me from moving, as he wraps his arms around me, "I just told I want you, that I burn for you, that I want you to mother my children. Do you honestly think I am one to say that to anyone?"

I gulp as he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of my neck, "I..." he breathes against my skin. He does not continue as he opts to kiss my neck instead.

When I move to wrap my own arms around him, he speaks again, "I am at your mercy. You saved me from freezing to death when you could have easily decided to rid of me."

I press my cheek against him and begin to comb through the long hair on his back, "I was serious about my distaste to remarry."

"Well, you will not," he quickly retorts, "you will have me until the end."

I bring my legs around him as I release a sigh, "consider me overjoyed by the thought."

He chuckles as he shifts, "you do not sound-"

"I did not want to admit it," I cut him off, "but I think I..." I turn to him as he lifts his head, "I think I... care for you, Daemon... I-"

"Love you," he finishes, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

And for the first time since our nuptials, he kisses me. He kisses me not because he has to, not for the sake of showing everyone present, but because he wanted to, for the sake of showing me.

He is nothing but warmth, nothing but fire, nothing but him. Daemon is not sweet, but in this moment he put even honey to shame.

He begins to stir on top me, though he makes sure his lips do not leave mine. It is because of my moan that we are broken apart, the moan that leaves me when I feel him slip inside me.

"Daemon-"

"You know how I fuck," he sighs, rubbing his nose against mine, "but now we'll both know how I make love."

[thatdeadaquarius]

-vine boom

I probably sent a lot of these now im so sorry lmfao 😅

You mentioned in one of the asks that some countries are like a prototype/based of our existing countries, like Germany=Mondstadt, Liyue=China, Inzauma=Japan....

So even though the language is more or less identical for you to make heads and tails in a conversation or writing in a book, the reverse side does not.

Creator!Reader who knows a couple of languages (plus points if they're atleast fluent or have a understanding of it despite not being able to speak said language) and being born from a country that doesnt have the same language as the countries Teyvat based off. Basically Spanish, Italian, Filipino, Scandinavian languages that also have their own way of writing.

Imagine feeling homesick and the only thing that keeps you occupied is the notebook and pen you have while the others converse in a meeting or in a hangout. You started writing in your tongue and re-reading it to relive memories.

Zhongli, AlHaitham, Albedo, Jean, maybe the Berry bros too (Diluc & Kaeya) get curious only to have a double-take and immediately thinks that maybe there is a forgotten land in Teyvat that has this language, I mean Morax stayed faithful to Liyue and Barbatos blessed his country with abundance of supplies and freedom. Teyvat gods and archons played favourites, so why wouldn't you as well? (Bonus: Khaenriah flashbacks) (also I know these arent enough characters but how should I know? I only have a handful of them and I ran out of Primos😭

The people from Akademiya though? I mean they went hard on theorizing and picking apart the language of their creator. Have you seen Matpat's descent to insanity the more FNAF continues to push out LoRe? Thats basically them because Teyvat doesn't have a country based on Creator's birth country. They're grasping nothing but air and dead ends and the only lead they have is you, but couldnt ask because you look so down and they cant bear to see Creator sad....

(NEW BANNER TOMORROW AND I DONT HAVE ENOGH PRIMOGEMS HALP---)

Rip Vine boom no primos 🙏 hope u got some more by this time bc i was so late to reply lol - DUDE IM SO READY FOR THE GORG KAVEH <333

BERRY BROS!! Thats it, thats the only way im gonna refer to them now.

Not super long to add onto ur bc UR SO SMART AND SUCH A GOOD WRITER VINEBOOM U SHOULD ALSO WRITE STUFF SO I CAN GO OBSESS OVER UR WRITING WITH A MILLION FERAL COMMENTS-!!!

(Cute owl house gif is like, metaphorially u and zhongli in this lol)

EDIT 8/23/23: So this may be inaccurate/not that good to my Hispanic Readers out there! Sorry about that, I'l make sure to do better in the future.

EDIT 1/1/24: Unfortunately there are even more issues here, and I'm really sorry about that. I expanded on it more in my Eldritch fanfic post in Part 2, but it was exoticism of me to use the word "Huangdi". I have since replaced it with "Emperor", and don't intend to just erase the mistake like it never happened. But I did change it in the headcanons for better readability. Again, I'm genuninely sorry about this, and will absolutely be watching out/doing better in the future. I hope you understand.

THIS SOUNDS SO SAD, LIKE THIS COULD DEF BE ANGST, ESP SINCE U HAVE NO FAMILIAR-ISH CULTURE TO TURN TO-

tbh im american and i def dont think theres a u.s. country- oh god at least I hope not, damn but im also familiar with mexican culture so i wouldnt miss the united states, but id miss mexican culture…

BUT!!

You have a lot of amazing people who care about you in Teyvat, so they won’t let you stew in ur homesickness for long

like random said, i could see it being small stuff

ok so imma just-

LATINO! READER TIME BABBYYYYY

(i do this bc its just the culture/language im more familiar with, but dont let that discourage anyone from requesting other cultures! I will def do my research, or ur welcome to tell me all about it so i can write it better! <3)

THAT BEING SAID IM MOSTLY WHITE PLS LMK IF SHIT IS WRONG/SPANISH IS WRONG BC IM STILL A BEGINNER MY BELOVED LATINES!

<3 YOU GUYS

♡

you’ve been in the game-turned-life world of Genshin Impact for nearly 6 months now, turns out time isnt wonky as hell like it is if you were playing the game, half bc u bribed Albedo with answers to his many questions about you if he figured out the time difference, and half bc of ur internal clock

people would notice the cuss words first lmao

like Xiao hearing u stubbing ur toe on the million and one steps up to Wangshu Inn, hijueputa!

or Keqing pointing out the words you coo at the dogs hanging out by the bridge outside the harbor,

un perrito tan buenoooo!! :’)

while most would just, " hmm, maybe a dialect of one of the other countries we havent heard…"

but Zhongli? he’s been ready for centuries in case the prophecy came true within his lifetime, afterall, many things changed while he’s been alive, not crazy to him that you might descend randomly

While everyone else was unprepared, bc u were like… the oldest deity, more legend than history, so ppl just thought Morax was a little overly faithful …so when it actually happened,, Morax was just smirking as he watched ur golden shooting star streak the night sky… while absolute pandemonium consumed the mortals and adepti in liyue lmao

(like that scene of Regina George in Mean Girls watching the student body break out into an all out brawl just smirking 😭 pls god look it up if u dont know what i mean- )

So Morax- Zhongli, has been ready for you, just in case, to pay attention to what kind of person you’d be, learn your favorite clothes/colors/offerings, see what things you’d like to talk about with him (hopefully for hours) etc.

He was observant, and with his memory, he practically gave himself headaches sometimes with how aware he was,

on one of those days he was overwhelmed by the mortal crowds, the smells, the market yelling, and all the change from what he thought he knew-

Zhongli noticed you in your own melancholy, and curious, he began to stroll just behind

You sit at Wanmin restaurant, still somber, and ask Xiangling to

“please try out these recipes? they’re from my world, and id really love to have something like them again..”

a true experimental chef as always, Xiangling quickly takes up your offer, and u follow her into the kitchens in the back (the restaurant is much more real than in game, they have gorgeous inside seating, all shades of red coloring the walls and lots of pretty latticework-)

Zhongli takes a seat finally, he has a usual table at this point he comes in so much coughtorunintoyoucough the staff know it's his and give him tea pretty quickly

the food, and the looks, makes it your favorite restaurant in Liyue, the Liuli Pavilion a little too fancy for casual dining, afterall, Zhongli would know

He’s tried to keep track of your favorite places to be in Liyue too, and kept his near full attention on what you say when he asks after your stays in Liyue (he hasn’t felt the need to pay that much attention or felt that much interest in conversation partners in… decades?)

So when you come out of the kitchen, throwing your head back and laughing, "Sí, sí! It all tastes so close Xiangling! Gracias, thank you!"

He wants… to know.

to know what those strange, but delicious looking, foods are all balanced on two big dinner plates

Xiangling carrying whatever you couldn’t just behind, a pitcher of white liquid, it smells, like cinnamon?

He raises a hand, and offers the extra seats at his table, (when did his tea go cold? he only just sat down, he couldn’t have spent that long thinking about you…)

You notice and look over, a giddy grin lighting up your face (…hmm, perhaps he needs to transform into his Exuvia form and let off some steam, his chest has warmed too much right now for him to just be sitting here…)

You plop into the seat beside him, but not before carefully placing the plates in front of both you and Zhongli

You scootch around until you’re turned towards him, as always, Zhongli looks… actually kind of, happy?

a small soft smile pulls at his lips, his eyes half-lidded as they meet yours, his usual red eyeliner framing his monolids perfectly, he looks like he’s been,, well, sculpted from stone, an artwork come to life

“…My Emperor? Could I trouble you to tell me about the dishes before us?”

the geo god’s pleasantly smooth and deep voice felt so soft asking you that, like he didn’t want to push you one direction or the other

“Oh! Right! Sorry, these are from my home country, back in my world, or at least, as close as Xiangling and I can get to them!”

Your smile brightens your face once more, clearing away any leftover stormclouds from your mood earlier, and as you launch into explaining (Xiangling had to get back to orders, so it’s just you two now)

You list it all, the quintessential: quesadillas, empanadas, tamales, chorizo (you had to combine at least 5 different spices to Mondstadt sausages to get anywhere close to the real thing) the dips obviously, salsa, queso, guacamole, and the easy street tacos, and finally the horchata, but also all the weird fruits Teyvat has with chile, like Sunsettias mixed with Harra from Sumeru or Lavender melons with Wolfhook berries… all surpringly pretty good

(the Sun-Harra combo tastes like mango, a sort of deeper taste of pineapple/kiwi and a sort of light orange taste? all with the nice addition of chile flavors, the Lavender melons and Wolfhooks helped imitate chamoy enough that your heart was satisfied)

…you realize you’ve just been talking about the last meal you had with your family/friends instead of the food after a bit, and Zhongli hasn’t said anything…

you trail off and look back over your shoulder (u were practically about to get your shirt in the imitation guac u were leaning so far over the table to point and talk)

you’re about to sheepishly apologize for taking over the conversation, and ask if he wants to try anything (Zhongli can handle spice so u dont have to worry abt that at least)

but as u finally see his face, u just stop, and dont end up saying anything

He’s just, looking at you.

his smile's not huge, but big enough to make his eyes look happy, and Zhongli’s just… looking at you.

You can’t describe the look he’s giving you, but you suddenly feel… a wave of shyness wash over your heart in your chest, because he’s looking almost like, maybe like, he’s sort of, waiting for you to keep talking, his tan skin warm in the golden rays of the sun beginning to set, you don’t know why you’re noticing any of these things, and he gently, slowly, makes a move to lean into your space a little

almost above your armrest, head inches from your shoulder, he finally moves to stop looking at you-

He looks like a painting as he looks down, his eyelashes almost sitting on his high cheekbones,

you have to move your head to looking at the table too as he moved so close,

you feel your shoulders reflexitively hitch upwards as you brushed the hair on the side of his head as you turned away

He looks around, and then moves his head, not his body, he’s still leaning toward you, to look you right in the eyes again

“Why did you stop? I haven’t said much, I apologize, but it’s only because I wanted to hear you without anything interrupting you.”

You cough a little strained, “Oh! Oh I get it now yeah, thanks-”

“I want to hear you more,” his black eyes begin to warm with gold, you can vaguely see the shape of his diamond pupil revealing itself, “I want to hear about… everything, if you’ll tell me? The language, the food, the drinks, your family, your dances, your country, I want to hear it all. Won’t you please let me hear your voice some more?”

♡

GOOOD LOOORDDDD, ITS SO LONGGGGG IM SO SORRRYYY 😭😭

OKAY IM MOSTLY SORRY THAT THIS SCENARIO HAPPENED??? IDK WHERE ZHONGLI CAME FROM- GOD IM SUBCONCIOUSLY IN LOVE WITH THAT MAN I GUESS, SORRY RANDOMANTICS-

uh, hope somebody got anything out of this, sorry abt the length, again,

also pls somebody tell me if what i said about culture/food was alright! If not I’ll def change it, pls dont let me keep it up if its inaccurate/wrong!!

Safe Travels you guys,

💀♒️

.°•.☆.•°.

♡ the beloveds ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk

[shokiren]

COME BACK, I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU.

pairing: shidou ryusei x reader

summary: shidou has been inlove with for as long as he can remember. but he is bound to get impatient, as you can't see that he's the perfect guy for you, not those worthless jackasses.

a/n: hi <3 my first work on this blog!! ahh im excited ab this, i hope you enjoy this mwah mwah, also this is NOT proofread (im too lazy, please bear w me)

you don't know what you'd do if it weren't for shidou.

shidou was your best friend– yes, he could be quite odd at times, but he had his moments. he was very touchy, but in a very non-romantic way (or so you thought.).

you and his mom were best friends too, so they came over at eachother's houses quite often, and so naturally, you both became good friends as time passed by.

when you were barely ten, you remember being scared of shidou because he was like a feral cat. he would not sit down, and may have kicked the ball so hard that it absolutely obliterated the neighbour's most precious plant– of course, you both fled the scene as fast as you could after that. it is also your best kept secret.

both your mom's sent you to the same highschool, saying that who knows– you both might fall in love and might marry each other, all in secret, of course.

but you're glad they did what they did, even if you don't know the reasoning yet.

you both stuck around each other, till college. and now here you are, on one of your late night trips and the music bursting from the speakers of the lavish car.

you held a bottle of vodka in one hand as the other hunt out the window. okay, your state was understandable because you just had been rejected by your crush, your crush of nine months.

you sang the lyrics to each song you knew at the top of your lungs, as well as taking a sip every here and then. shidou also held a bottle of vodka in his hands, drinking as much as his mouth could fit.

"i hate him, i hate him, i hate him!" the words tumbled out of your mouth unconsciously, not really comprehensible but shidou understands. "'would kill him if i saw him on campus." shidou says, eyes still ahead on the road. you just nod, "you're so nice, shidou. love you." you say, leaning against the black leather fabric of the seat, and slowly drifting off to sleep.

the thing was, shidou liked you. he thinks he's liked you ever since the end of highschool. he doesn't know why, but thinks it has something to do with how long you have stuck with him, because usually, he was left alone because he was "mean and weird". sure, you thought the same things at first, but then slowly learned that he wasn't actually mean, he was just joking around.

and now, he's blushing at the two words, slowly muttering, "love ya too..". he wishes you could just see him, and not fall for total jackass', he wishes he could just be given one chance where he could tell you what he's felt for you in one go, without messing up the bond between you both.

he turns down the loud music so you can sleep peacefully. he knows that you have been overworking yourself and not getting enough sleep, so he should just let you rest.

he thinks you look ethereal like this. sleeping like an angel while the streetlight's soft down shone upon your face. he thinks he might just kiss you right now.

he hopes you see that he's the perfect guy for you, not those worthless jackasses.

[seethesin]

do you know what you want?

pairing: Shane McCutcheon x F!Reader

tags/warnings: cursing, sexual content, fingering, semi-public sex (mdni, 18+)

a/n: seeing this post in the shane mccutcheon tag made me go feral, im not gonna lie. thank you and full credit to @enzo32sposts for inspiring this fanfic. i hope you don't mind that i wrote this, because this one's for you :)

It seemed like every lesbian in Los Angeles was forcing her way into Wax for one reason and one reason only: Shane McCutcheon.

Truthfully, you didn't understand the hype. Sure, the woman had talent. But you were skeptical that the raving reviews she got were based solely on her hairdressing capabilities. You knew well enough that those hands were doing more than adjusting hairlines.

Your thoughts took a turn when your best friend was able to nab an appointment with the legendary Shane. She raved on the phone for a half hour after and when the two of you met up for brunch, you had to take a double take. Between the intricate layering, highlights, and volume, you didn't even recognize your friend. She looked incredible.

Shane McCutcheon made her look incredible.

And you needed to know what it was that made Shane so coveted by the community.

So here you were—a month later, it was the soonest Shane had available—sitting inside the Wax waiting room. You managed to fill the last appointment slot for the day, much to your relief. You probably should have decided what exactly you wanted done, but you were more interested in participating in this... experience than anything else.

"[Y/N]?"

Snapping back to reality at the sound of your name, you finally come face-to-face with the lothario who enraptured more women than you knew.

Shane McCutcheon.

"That's me," you reply, gathering your belongings as you approach Shane. Your gazes lock and the faintest glint streaks across her eyes. Maybe your brain was playing tricks on you, but you could have sworn you saw her look you over. The ladies were right; Shane was easy on the eyes.

Too easy.

"Great, I'm Shane," she starts, extending her hand to you. You take it swiftly, giving a polite shake. You can't help but map out the callouses of Shane's fingertips at your initial contact. The thought of them inside you flickers across your mind and you immediately dismiss it. "Follow me around back and I'll get you started."

You nod in return. You keep pace with Shane, stepping through into her studio as she pulls the curtain open for you. Pulling it back shut, she motions for you to sit. You do so, quickly placing your belongings on the side table and out of the way of Shane's workstation.

"So," she starts, walking towards you from behind. She's studying you through the mirror, her fingers wrapping around the top edges of the chair. Another vulgar idea takes over your thoughts. It's harder for you to get rid of this one.

"What are you here for?"

Your teeth dig into your lower lip, brows furrowing as you try to think of something on the fly. You really should have decided before coming in. But Christ, how do you think when you have this woman—who looks so much hotter in person compared to all the ridiculous descriptions your friend gave you—stationed right behind you?

She was too close to you to be considered professional. You swallow and the faintest hint of a smirk pulls at the corners of her lips.

"Well," you begin, trying to maintain some control of this situation. When did it get so hot in here? "I want something—"

You stop breathing entirely.

Shane's hands are in your hair, smoothing and styling it as she watches you through the mirror. It's natural for hairdressers to touch your hair. So why is it such a shock to the system when Shane does it?

Shane's grinning now, eyes shining as she waits for you to speak again. She must have felt you freeze underneath her hands.

"I want something different." Her hands retreat from your scalp and slide back down to the top of your chair. You choke back the whine threatening to escape your lips at the sudden loss of contact. She's still looking at you through the mirror and a low hum of acknowledgment rumbles out her throat. She steps away from you, turning around to ready her tools.

"Okay," her voice trails off, and you can't help but steal a glance at her through the mirror. Shane looked good even from the back. The jeans she was wearing accentuate her behind too well. You like the leather jacket she has on too; you had to refrain from asking her where she got it from.

You look away as soon as she turns around, bringing her styling tools towards her workstation. "That doesn't really help me though."

You respond with a petulant huff. You weren’t exactly helping yourself either.

She slithers back behind you, serpentining her arms on top of the armrests of your chair. Your arms reflexively pull towards your torso at the skin-to-skin contact, your hands settling into your lap. Shane chuckles and slowly, she leans forward. Her breath fans against your cheek and the caress of her lips against your ear is searing. You flinch.

If possible, her voice drops an octave.

"What do you want, [Y/N]?"

Fuck.

"You." It comes out without warning and as soon as you say it, your eyes go wide. The flush crawls up your neck and blooms across your face as you watch Shane. She is absolutely delighted and a stupid, smug smile cracks across her face.

"That's better. I can work with that."

She spins the chair so that the two of you could finally stare at each other. Without warning, her lips crash into yours. Your brain is spinning, unable to form anything coherent at the moment. The only thing you can focus on was matching Shane's vigor.

Her hands are on either side of your face, her fingers digging through your hair. Cautiously, your hands creep up to Shane's shoulders. The way she kisses is overstimulating. Between her tongue flicking against the roof of your mouth and her teeth gnawing on your lower lip, you didn't know what to expect next. However, you refuse to sit there, hapless and needy.

With a surge of newfound confidence, you yank her down closer to you. She moans in approval as you kiss, her hands now trailing down your neck before finding purchase on your waist. She shuffles closer to you, bending her leg so that her knee presses against your pussy.

You gasp.

Shane smiles innocuously, pulling away from the kiss. Her knee burrows further between your legs.

"Tell me what you want me to do," she rasps, loving the way she makes you squirm. Instead, you find the strength to shove her jacket off, exposing the white t-shirt underneath. Her nipples are perky against the fabric and it makes your mouth water. You want them in your mouth.

"Fuck me."

Shane bobs her head in a curt nod and immediately removes her knee. The lack of friction makes you shudder, but it's only temporary. Shane's lips are back on yours and her hands and trailing down to your groin. She's making quick work of your pants button, tugging the zipper before shoving the offending garment down to your calves. Her hands hook around your knees and—without breaking the kiss—you cant your hips forward. Shane's already on top of your unspoken command. Her fingers slip under the waistband of your underwear and yank them down to join your pants. One arm hooks around your waist while the opposite hand buries itself into your cunt.

Her middle finger strokes from your clit to slit, prodding gently before plunging inside of you. She begins to pump slowly, trailing wet kisses down your neck. She peeks up at you through dark, hooded lids as she bites the base of your neck.

Your fingers are already lacing into her hair, gripping so tightly your knuckles are white. Shallow, staccato moans begin to push from your chest as your hips jut forward. Shane sucks the bruise already forming on your skin and runs her tongue across it. The two of you lock eyes and she sneers. You give her hair a tug, warning her to stay on track.

You start to roll your hips impatiently, needing more than just one finger. The attempt at coaxing her works much better than you anticipate. Her ring finger joins the fray and suddenly, her thrusts grow deeper.

"Didn't peg you as a brat," she muses, digits curling as she fingerfucks you. Her tongue flickers at your throat.

"'m not," you start, slamming your hips to meet her brutal thrusts. "I know what I want."

"About time."

The heel of her hand swivels against your clit and you tremble. One hand—at this point, you couldn't tell if it was yours and hers—flies into your hair, gripping tightly as you tilt back into the salon chair. The coil in your stomach snaps and your orgasm washes over you. Shane's lips are back on yours, most likely to swallow the moans bubbling from your chest. She lets you ride her fingers as you cum, brushing your clit gently with her thumb as you bask in the aftershocks.

Shane is patient and slowly, pulls back from the kiss. She waits until your breathing evens out before unsheathing her fingers. Her lips envelope around them and nonchalantly, she sucks them clean.

Your clit throbs.

"Well," Shane leans forward, your noses brushing against each other. "If we had more time, I could have eaten you out too."

You quirk your eyebrows at her.

"Who said this was the only time you could fuck me?" Shane licks her lips, pupils dilating as she ogles you.

It's your turn to smirk.

"I should get to your hair first." Shane spins the chair back around so that you face the mirror. After a moment of observation, you begin to laugh. Your hair is completely unkempt; wild and frizzy from all the grabbing.

"No, keep it like this."

Shane gawks at you.

"Why?"

"Because it's exactly what I wanted." Something different.

[yandere-kokeshi]

Heyoo!! I was wondering if Yandere Sanemi or Yandere Giyuu with a darling whose like Thorn from the hex girls?? AAA!! Im talkin bout pretty goth/alt girl whose in a rock band-! plays guitar and is just absoluetely feral!! (+Bonus points if shes a riot grrrl!!) GAHH! thank you for your time<33

Warnings: yandere behavior

A/N: why not both ;)? Hope you enjoy, darling <3

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

This man is absolutely feral for you. No matter how many times he sees you. Your singing, rock on attitude, and ALT style makes him incredibly confident.

Loves to show you off. Your hair, the obvious piercings, and clothing style often keeps people away, which he likes. But he loves to tell others quietly that you belong to him. Though, it’s not a secret with the obvious love marks on your neck and arms.

Any creepy mail or dudes who try to get in your pants are immediately confronted by Sanemi. He’s especially there during World Tours, which makes him more protective than ever; he takes his guard job very seriously.

Not one to scream your lyrics and show his support loudly, but Sanemi listens to every song – knows it by heart and loves to come to your rehearsals or concerts. Definitely acts like a bodyguard while you play on stage, and makes sure he has water on him at all times.

Names you all types of nicknames, some include: fox, girly, and magpie. Though, his favorite is obviously dumbass and love.

Your bandmates surprisingly like him, other than his possessive and clingy behavior – they can see he loves you, which lets him often come to your practice sessions.

Giyu Tomioka:

Your biggest fan. He makes sure to always come to your practices and be there in the crowd, frequently supporting you with his gentle smile.

Much like Sanemi, he’s not one to loudly scream that he loves you but rather shows his support and love through acts of service. Giyuu often gives you water, suggests taking a break when he senses you’re tired, and surprises you with your favorite homemade food he made just for you. All he asks is a kiss and a hug.

The band knows Giyuu and regularly teases you. Not rudely but rather poking at you for fun because of his shy and distant behavior, rarely does he talk to any other mates but you.

Loves it when you hum at home or around him. If he could, he’d fall asleep in your lap; it’s a beautiful tone, just a perfect pitch that he’s able to swoon with his eyes.

Frequently recommends you go solo. While he doesn’t understand the risks, you’d be taking that, and you admire your bandmates a lot – though, that doesn’t stop Giyuu from asking you to teach him some of your equipment.

Gets a bit disappointed when you want to go on World Tours, but quickly shoves his own feelings down as he knows this means a bunch to you. He promises that after he talks to the Head-Master, he’d come to you as fast as he can

—

My Masterlist :)

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[ellecdc]

babe I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT MEAN TO PRESSURE YOU BUT IM GOING FERAL WAITING FOR THE NEXT PART OF AMWAP CAN WE GET A LITTLE SNIPPET IF YOUVE WRITTEN SMTH 🥺

ALSO ALSO I LOVE ALL OF THE NEW WORKS YOUVE PUT OUT I WAS DEAD ON TUMBLR FOR LIKE THREE MONTHS AHHHHHHH YOURE SO CREATIVE AND TALENTED GOD BLESS YOU AHHH

Also can I see birdie 🥺

Ok I will say yes (to both) but then I’m gonna post a little AMWAP psa if that’s okay ❤️‍🩹

I am honestly so honoured and grateful that so many people have become as invested in AMWAP as they are - I think that’s honestly both the highest praise and the biggest goal for any writer on this app. I’m admittedly in a tight spot right now and am working through personal things, but this fic in particular has been bothering me for a while which is why it is on a temporary hiatus. It has been on hiatus for a while and will remain on hiatus until it’s complete.

As grateful as I am that everyone loves it so much, I haven’t been enjoying writing it lately which then concerns me when I have written something because I honestly cannot tell if it’s good - that being said, it causes me a lot of anxiety to receive asks about it because I’m horrified at the idea of disappointing you all (this isn’t about you, anon, I get asked about AMWAP a LOT) and it makes me want to trash the whole thing because I’d honestly rather not write it at all than ruin something beautiful that people love

So, I am working on it. I have it mapped out in my head, and I will eventually write it, but I ask if perhaps we can refrain from asking for updates/when i think i might post the next part because it honestly makes me nauseous

I feel like an absolute ass even setting this boundary and I really hope I don’t offend anyone - I’m struggling emotionally, August is a very hard month for me with a traumatic anniversary approaching, and there has been family drama for me recently with people popping up from my past, so please be patient with me

Thank you all for your understanding, and here is birdie as promised with her bandana of the day ❤️‍🩹

Thank you for your sweet words and praises, and thank you all for being here with me 🫶

[kindagayfish]

Hello friend!

Im new to the trigun family after watching Stampede and recently ive been on a Knives kick and i dont see much content about him x reader.

So i was wondering if we could get some headcanons about what would make Knives feel “those gross human feelings” (love, the need to protect,need for affection) for the reader, and how he would tell them or show them?

I just need some knives fluff! Boy needs and hug! If you dont wanna write that, thats totally fine!! Thank you!!

A/N: Knives is SUCH an interesting character and im literally so feral for him. This is very much stream-of-conscious writing and not proofread. It also turned out so much longer than I expected! I legit got so carried away so I hope you enjoy it!!

Also I feel like my thoughts/headcanons for Knives will always be constantly evolving because he's just such a complex character??? And I love it???

Contains: Hints of nsfw thoughts if you squint??, fluff I guess??, can knives even do fluff???, the slowest of slowburns for this man

So we know Knives does know what love feels like…sorta. He loves Vash, and wants to see a future where they can both live their lives without the fear of being used for what they are. However, that means killing every human left on the planet. So it’s a twisted kind of love…but he still cares in his own way.

I don’t think Knives would notice you right away. It won’t be some love-at-first-sight, omg this human was so nice to me thing. It will take A LOT of time. He has completely blocked himself off from anyone because of fear, and fear is an intense driving force.

Perhaps you’re involved in his grand scheme somehow; A scientist in a lab who has taken a special interest in the Plants. At first, you’re focused on finding a more sustainable way for them to be used…but then after witnessing one open itself up, showing a high level of intelligence, you change your studies to find a way for them to live beyond the confines of the glass tanks.

You’re aware of Knives. Aware that he’s what they call an Independent. And you take notes on him, studying any file that isn’t restricted from the ships that once roamed the universe.

Knives becomes aware of you rather quickly. It's hard to ignore the way your eyes follow his every move, jotting down your observations quickly into a notebook that never seems to leave your hands. At first he finds it irritating, having this human stalk him like a shadow. However, it was only when you caught him on a particularly bad day that he finally spoke to you.

"Get OUT." His voice was ice, sending a sharp tendral into your notebook, tearing it from your hands. You let out a pained yelp, though none of the blades touched had you, and ran out of the room.

After he's calmed down, curiosity gets the better of him, and Knives spends the rest of the evening reading through your notes.

The next day it's him that seeks you out. Knives finds you in a lab, placing your in-tact notebook on the table in front of you before stating that some of your observations were incorrect, which causes you to flush with embarrassment. He leaves immediately after, and upon inspecting your notebook, you find that he had crossed out some of your own notes, replacing it with the "correct" information.

Knives begins to tolerate your company. You're not as insufferable as the other humans, and he finds himself quite intrigued by how brave you've gotten around him ever since that day. But he continues to keep himself at a distance….for now.

So anyways as your "relationship" with Knives progresses:

Knives shows his love through acts of service and quality time. He allows you into his space; allows himself to lower his guard and try to understand these strange feelings he gets when around you. Although, again, this takes time.

He'll start to show interest in whatever experiments you're running, quietly observing from a respectable distance. It might even start to feel like you’re the one being studied from how intense his silent stare is (he is 100% memorizing everything about you).

The more time spent with you, the more possessive he becomes of this time...and just you in general.

Knives knows that you have to talk to others in order to do your job, but that doesn't mean he won't glare at them until they walk away. He prides himself on how his presence alone can clear a room so it can just be the two of you.

If you forget to eat, time getting away from you, Knives might sigh and fetch you something. Setting it down directly in front of you and making comments under his breath about how "humans are pathetic" and how you "can't even take care of yourself". You're like a pet, he tells himself...rationalizing why he would go out of his way to make sure you stay healthy.

Physical touch comes much later

Sometimes you'll feel him lean in from behind, gazing over your shoulder to gain a better view of what you're working on. Heat radiates off of his body, but he never brings himself to touch you. Knives finds it amusing at how flustered you get when he does this and likes to test your boundaries as well as his own. He’ll catch himself too often wondering how soft your skin would feel under his fingertips. It’s a disgusting thought, really. (he is so touch starved but will NOT allow himself to indulge in this innocent fantasy because he’s stubborn and has the biggest god complex)

But it eventually happens one evening when you hand him your notebook. All of his senses are ignited, the place where your fingers brushed against his hand burns throughout the night. Knives can't bring himself to admit he likes this feeling, at least not out loud.

Oh but does he crave it.

It's a thrill, an adrenaline rush, and strangely even more fulfilling than the feeling he gets when he takes a human life.

Starts as "accidental". Fingers colliding when reaching for the same thing, the back of his hand brushing against yours as you both walk, standing too close to you so that when you take a step back, you bump into his chest.

Soon he's grabbing your wrist to stop you from doing something stupid, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you out of a room, even taking your hand in his, frowning at the fresh injury on your skin, but also burning up inside at the fact that his own hand swallows yours completely. That you're just so fragile. So human.

Knives is absolutely obsessed.

[mrsjobarnes]

I just want to wobble 

Hey, y’all! This is my first time writing smut so be kind! I was inspired by this TikTok!  Hope y'all enjoy it!

THIS BLOG IS 18+, PLEASE DON'T STEAL OR REPOST MY WORK!  COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE WELCOME! 

Warnings: P&V, spanking, breeding kink, brat, pregnancy, and fluff

Word ~ 622 

Rooster had no idea what he was walking into. The last time he talked to you was this afternoon, when you asked if he was planning to go out with the team tonight. When he responded with ‘Maybe, why?’  you sent him a photo of you in his favorite black lingerie set and one of his Hawaiian shirts. He had a hard time focusing the rest of the day. As he turns his key in the door he is met with the smell of his favorite dinner that you made. He walked into the kitchen and saw that you were still wearing everything from the photo but you had put pants on much to his dismay. “Why hello, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he said, kissing your shoulder. “To what do I owe this special occasion?” he said, spinning you around to face him. 

“Im ovulating so I thought ” is all you got out before he threw you over his shoulder. He quickly looked at the stove and oven to ensure it was not on. He’d made that mistake before and never again. “Bradley '' you said as you wiggled in his arms. 

“You’d better stop moving, you're lucky you're ovulating because you’ve been a brat.” he said with a smack to your ass. You let out a moan, that only encourages him to do it again. He throws you on the bed and begins to strip you of all of your clothes. “Do you understand how hard it was to focus at work because of your little stunt?” he said while you rid him of his clothes. “God I am the luckiest man alive to have you naked in my bed” he said kissing down your body. 

“Don’t tease Bradley” you whined squirming in his hold. He flips you over and smacks your ass. As you moan he starts playing with your clit, preparing you for him. As he slides in you are met with the pleasure and burning sensation that he always brings. As you moan he kisses the shell of your ear. 

“Ahh Y/n you’re always so tight, it’s like you were made for me.” he starts thrusting harder, grabs your hair, and pulls you up to his chest. As he plays with your clit you begin to climax 

“Oh god, I’m” you start to feel the burning need to cum. “Bradley” you whimper out.  

“Let go, baby, I’ve got you” he said thrusting into you. He works you through your orgasm, you can tell he is getting closer. 

 He is absolutely feral, he flips you over. Now you are in missionary with both of your legs on his shoulder. 

“Im going to cum so deep in you,” he grunts while becoming erratic and fucking you so hard. 

“Oh god, Bradley I’m going to cum” you say seeing stars. He cums with a loud moan, falling onto you and kissing you passionately. He pulls out and goes to get washrags. When he gets back he collects his seeds and pushes it back into you as you moan from the stimulation. 

“Can’t let anything go to waste” he said with a smirk. He kisses you and lay’s down. He grabs and cuddles you. 

“I can’t wait till I’m pregnant, then I can just wobble around,” you said in a sleepy voice. 

“Me neither, I can’t wait to see you waddle. You’re going to be the cutest pregnant woman around”

“I won’t waddle, that’s for penguins. Im going to wobble” you said cuddling into him. He rolled his eyes and kissed your head before you both fell into a deep sleep. 

[who-is-page]

i heard that youre a good resource on therianthropy/otherkinity so uh

i know that you can be a therian for animals, real or otherwise (im a cat therian) but can i be, like, a scoutbot tf2 therian? is that allowed?

also can you have multiple theriotypes (i think thats the term) at once?

There's a longstanding history of therians who have had multiple theriotypes at one time, so you don't need to worry there. The idea that therians could only ever have one theriotype arouse around the mid-2000's, and was propagated largely due to the grilling and gatekeeping culture that was ongoing at the time-- the circles you will mainly see parroting that language nowadays usually are similar in the ways they micromanage the ideas around what does and doesn't count in terms of someone's personal therianthropy.

The Scoutbot TF2 question is trickier to answer. In terms of "is this a thing you're allowed to do," the answer is yes (as the saying goes, you can do whatever you want forever) but you might run into an issue where people assume your experiences are different than you may intend to represent them as.

The therian community traces its roots back to the were community of the 1990's, specifically to alt.horror.werewolves (which is often shortened to AHWw). On AHWw, there was a were-Pontiac who went by the name Ponty. I've seen arguments for and against the legitimacy of this user, but there's still the fact that they were an active participant in the community, and they specifically identified as a Pontiac car. There have also been other inanimate objects within the community, such as a broom who was on the Werelist forum for a brief period of time (and I think I've heard talk of a violin on a different forum elsewhere, too-- but take that one with a grain of salt, since I can't remember exactly where or when it was, and I could be misremembering).

So is there historical basis for non-animal therians? The answer is, absolutely, yes! However, when people use the term therian or reference their theriotype, there is an underlying assumption that there is an inherent form of animality connected to their identity because of the history and culture around the community and term. For some non-animal therians, that works perfectly into their paradigm and is exactly why the term therian appeals to them so much-- they may not be an animal, but they still experience that animality and ferality that is so often closely associated with therianthropy and which is often assumed to be a relevant part of the concept, so the term perfectly encapsulates everything they hope for people to understand about their identity and its experiences.

For other non-animal identified folks, they don't experience anything they'd want to label as animality, and so they don't find the term therian useful to apply to themselves. If they were to use it, they would end up in a situation where they would be presenting their identity in a way that implies importance on specific things that aren't actually relevant to them.

What terms someone uses are going to come down largely to personal preference, how accurate they feel the term is in application to their experiences, and how well that term conveys their experiences to others on a surface level. Therian isn't necessarily a term everyone will find applicable, but for those who do resonate with it, it's perfect for what it needs to do.

I hope this made sense!

[just-some-random-blogger]

I LOVE TEN AND ONE SO MUCH YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i know you said that you’re not yet in soft!daemon feels but what if reader already got pregnant and seeing her pregnant makes daemon so feral & just want to breed her so much…………

Mine

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After trying to get pregnant for months, you fell into a state where all you could do is cry. It left Daemon erratic and so easily triggered. To clear both your minds, he thinks a ride on dragon back would help, but it seems even Caraxes is not in a good mood.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Mentions of failed pregnancies/miscarriage, wife!reader, depressive episodes, smut (sad fucking, rough fucking, vaginal penetration, hair pulling, impregnation kink, claiming kink, cock warming ig), angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: CONGRATULATIONS FOR ACTUALLY CONVINCING ME TO MAKE A P2 OF SOMETHING. a word of caution though, it's probably not exactly what you expect. btw if you're new here, this is technically a part two to Ten & One, but you don't have to read it to get this. It will help you get in the feels more probably, but you don't need to read it to understand. I'd appreciate it if you did read it though LEAVE COMMENTS AND REBLOGS I HELD BACK ON THE PRAISE KINK BUT I ASSURE YOU MINE IS VERY REAL ISTG IM GOING TO GO FERAL IF NO ONE REPLIES TO THIS

"Our home was once so warm," one of the head servants sigh to the two younger servants, "and not because of how Caraxes sometimes has fits, but because the lady of our house warmed it so," she shakes her head, "now she has done nothing but cry and my heart hurts for Lady Targaryen."

"I do hope she finds comfort soon," one younger servant adds with a frown, "my cousin said that her late lady eventually fell ill after grieving so long that she succumbed to her illness."

There was no ill-intent in their words, and yet he could not stand hearing it.

The sharp sound of a sword unsheathing promptly halts the servants.

Daemon is in front of them, coming out of the chamber they were meant to enter. He points Dark Sister at them, jaw clenching tightly at the words he heard them speak.

The three look to their master in fear as he takes a few steps closer to them, "I will not tolerate any word from any tongue about my wife."

Daemon watches them quiver under the gaze of his sword. Had he not been attentive of his wife, he would have killed them out of annoyance. Yet he doesn't, "do your task and leave at once."

The head servant nods and the servants scurry off into the room.

I was lying in bed, chest down, when I heard the telltale sound of footsteps. I peel my teary eyes open and mutter against the cushion, "Mileva?"

My childhood handmaiden turns to me and frowns, "yes, milady, I'm here. I have come to serve you your food."

My eyes begin to water again as I watch her set the food out on the table.

On theme with my other thoughts, I recall how she took care of me as a child, and then how she excitedly told me she was eager to do the same for my children. Her hair was now grey and yet I still had not even one child.

"Mileva," I whine, lips quivering as I reach my hand out to her for comfort.

Daemon walks back in, face hard and tense.

Mileva turns to me and sighs, "oh, sweet child." She walks over to me, taking my hand, kneeling by the side of my bed, "cease your sorrow. You will fall with child soon enough."

"But it's been a year since I've been wed," I sob, pulling her hand towards me, "what if something's wrong with me?"

"N-" "There's nothing wrong with you," Daemon quips before Mileva could speak the same words, albeit with more softness.

Mileva turns to Daemon who stood by the door, as if guarding it, then back to me, pressing a kiss on my knuckles, "my lady, take heart and regain your strength. I know you are going through a difficult season, but soon you will have what you so desire," she brushes my tears away with her calloused hands, "it is not uncommon to experience what you're going through. I myself grieved the same things you do when I first fell with child."

"Oh, Mileva," I weep helplessly, moving to sit up, "I had no idea, and I-"

"Enough, my girl," she hushes, grabbing both of my arms in her hands, "now please, do us all a favor and eat. I would never forgive myself if I allow you to lose yourself completely."

Daemon watches as I move to the table near our bed. Once I sit down, my husband speaks, "you may go now."

In exchange of the company of our servants, Daemon comes upon me, placing a hand on my shoulder as I dumbly look at the food I once loved.

"Your dear Mileva is right, you must regain your strength," he mutters, walking behind me, massaging both my shoulders.

"I feel I will be sick if I so much bring a spoon to my mouth."

He stills his actions then the drags the other chair close to me with a screech. "Shall you prefer I feed you then?" he asks, sitting next to me.

Daemon does nothing but look at me as I gaze off into the abyss that was a plate of food before me.

"I don't think I will ever find peace, Daemon," I mutter, mostly I think to myself, "I was with child," I start to feel tears burn in my eyes, "then I was not."

He brushes his fingers on my cheek, "The gods are to blame, not you."

I finally turn to my husband, chest heaving as salt water runs down my face uncontrollably. He frowns as he sighs, hand taking mine in comfort. I choke on more tears and fall to his side, unable to withhold the helpless yelps in my throat.

Daemon wastes no time in readjusting in his seat, expertly unclasping the holster on his waist, allowing his weapon to clatter to the ground. He then in one scoop brings me onto his lap, allowing me to nuzzle on his neck and pour my sadness onto his skin. His arms envelope around me, behind my back and over my thighs.

I bring my hands up to his cheeks, attempting to even out my breathing as I take in his familiar scent.

Once I finally felt like I wasn't suffocating, I begin to fiddle with Daemon's silver hair.

He leans against my touch. I pepper kisses on his cheeks.

For a moment, he is satisfied with this, but then decides to meet my lips with his own. His hands begin to tighten around me.

I release as sigh, pulling my hands away so I can readjust his grip o me and maneuver my legs over him. He makes no fuss when I straddle him, in fact his arms fiddle with the nightgown I did not bother to change out of from the night before.

My fingers travel to his tunic, and I begin to undo the its clasps. When my hand finally rubs the bare skin underneath his clothing, that's when he halts and pushes me off him to stop our kiss. He is finally certain of my actions.

I look at him. His eyes are closed and yet I could see his resolve dwindling. I place a peck on his lip as I grind down on him.

He groans, legs spreading beneath me. For a moment, he allows me to continue, but then his hands grab on my waist at an attempt to stop me.

I halt at just as he wants, but feel betrayal rise up my throat as I speak, "will you not even have me now, husband?"

Daemon releases a prolonged sigh, leaning his head back on the chair, lightly scratching my sides with his fingers, "with all my strength, I am not strong enough to even think of doing that."

I continue to buck my hips on him again.

His grip tightens but not in an attempt to withhold me.

"Then do not kid yourself by resisting me."

Daemon's eyes finally open with a grunt. The dizziness in his mind clears when he sees my face. He knits his brows and wipes my tears away, "my love."

I blink rapidly as I whine, "have me, Daemon, and end this mourning."

He calls my name, stilling me again with his hands.

This time, I bang on his chest in anger for trying to stop me, but then all at once, I crumble against him in a fit of tears.

Daemon kisses my cheek as he tightly pulls me against him.

We remain like this for a long while.

After being calmed by the sound of his breathing, I finally have the strength to cease my weeping. "I do want you, Daemon," I mutter against his cheek.

"I always want you, my queen," he replies, rubbing my back, "but I do not wish to take advantage of your sorrow."

I move against him again. He loosens his arms around me as I turn to him with glassy eyes, "then have me for no other reason than my own desire to have you, Daemon."

He is about to say something, but my hand on his hardened member takes the words out of his mouth. I palm his through his pants, "will you require me to beg for it on my knees?"

I pull away, hands snaking behind his nape, "I will be most eager to do so," I whisper, hips rolling atop his, "anything to take my mind off this, Daemon."

"Fuck," he hisses, hands tightening around me yet again.

This time, Daemon carries me to our bed and pushes me open underneath him. He hungrily kisses my neck and begins to rub his clothed member against my burning core.

"Take your clothes off," I whimper, urging his tunic and pants off.

In an instant, not only is he naked, but as am I.

Our lips take each other's desperately, and a satisfied moan fights between our kiss when I feel him enter me slowly. My limbs latch around him out of instinct and my fingers dig into the small of his back, urging him to move.

He whispers my name in my ear. He does so with much care that my heart quickens at it.

"I will try my best to be gentle, my love."

I whine at his sentiment, but I nibble his ear in response, "fuck gentle. Ruin me, Daemon. I don't want to walk around any time soon anyway."

Daemon begins to rut his hips into mine upon hearing this. He moves slowly at first, as if to measure the truth in my words. He then enters me at a quicker pace, exhaling deeply against my skin.

I whine his name out, "Daemon please, please, please, fuck me."

He heaves against me, "say that again."

I claw at him and whimper, "please, fuck me so hard I can't walk, Daemon." I match the movement of his hips, "make sure I have no choice but to stay in bed."

That's all it takes for him to thrust into me like a man gone mad.

The sound of skin slapping each other almost makes me unable to hear my cries.

He enjoys breaking my legs open and hammering into my heat. He enjoys it so much that he remains in this position for a while, savoring the feeling. He soon decides to move his hands up my legs and push my knees to my chest. Daemon lifts himself a bit, so he could hook my ankles by his shoulders. The more compromising position makes me stretch my hands above me and grip at the pillows for dear life.

I cry so hard that I don't hear anything else. I'm sure even if there weren't anyone near our chambers, my screams would still be heard.

"Do you like it when I take you like this, wife?" he asks, or challenges almost.

I'm too fucked up to reply and only the in sync rising and falling of my voice to his relentless slamming was what he got out of me.

He finds a more secure stance on his knees, and he latches his fingers under my knees as he drives into me like it was what was going to keep him alive.

His breathing is unbelievably controlled in comparison to my raggedy hitches.

As Daemon looks before him, his hands reach out to my core then to my belly. His mind floods with obscene images of previous couplings. He groans at the ideas flooding his head. He rubs my belly, "you will look so glorious filled up with my seed."

I whine as his hands grab my breasts.

"Maybe I should fill up all your pretty holes, hmm?" he pants, "but maybe then your body wouldn't know what to do with my seed anymore."

I release a string of curses as my hands shoot up to grip his biceps. My back arches to better feel him and mentally thank myself for it, screaming ecstasy when he knocks on me just right. He chuckles in satisfaction, "so fucking eager, my love."

In a twist of fate, he pulls out of me.

I'm too delirious to even realize it or manage to complain. All at once I'm being flipped onto my knees. I do however know exactly when he pulls on my hips and slams into me with dare I say more intent. I don't even manage to push myself on my arms as I am utterly boneless against him.

"Daemon."

His response to the sound of his name was to rub my sensitive nub with his keen fingers. His other hand yanks on the roots of my hair, "who does your cunt belong to?"

I growl, one hand coming to his that was pulling my head back. I am even more unable to push myself up. I scream his name.

"Mine," he growls, "mine," he flicks his hips.

He yanks on my hair again, "say it. Who do you belong to?"

"You," I heave, "you, you, you, you-"

"Good," he praises as I loose my mind, "I'll make sure you only ever cry over how good my cock makes you feel," he mutters breathily. And although his words are lewd, there is a certain sincerity to it.

Much like before, because I never really stopped, tears begin to drip from my eyes in a tinge of pleasure, pain, and residual sorrow.

Daemon massages my scalp with his fingers as his thrusts reach a quick and steady pace. I can almost feel him hit inner most parts of my mind and taste him on my tongue.

My head helplessly crumbles onto the cushions when he releases me so he can piston inside me at a better angle. My screams are finally muffled.

My husband seems not to appreciate it as he yanks my hair back and forces my shouts to me audible again, "let them hear me breed my you, wife, scream out who makes you feel like this."

At this point, I've left my mouth gaping too long that my throat dries up and the sounds of his name that I produce leaves a burning sensation.

I feel my stomach begin to tighten at his ministrations.

"That's right," he encourages, "chase that feeling on my cock," he says, "come around me, darling. Come on."

My hips instinctively buck against him at the sound of his encouragements.

Daemon revels in the repetition of his name. He feels like he is invincible at the praising sounds.

I inevitably quake around him as if it was the surface beneath that forced me to do so. My voice is absolutely wrecked at the cry that leaves my lips.

Daemon rubs my core again, milking my reaction for all he's got.

Once even my knees began to give in, that's when I feel Daemon's heat shoot into so sharply that my body quakes all over again. He fucks into me even after. There is so much of him that I feel him drip out of me with wet squelching sounds.

My womanhood is practically crying at this point.

"I'll do you well, wife," he announces, pace drastically slowing, "I'll fuck you good even if the gods obstruct your womb from carrying my seed."

I repeat his name over and over again.

Daemon finally stops, but he does not exit me. He rubs my butt in a soothing attempt, "let me stay like this for a while, your cunt is leaking."

I shake my head, "no please, turn me over. I want to hold you, Daemon."

He does not dare deny me this.

He quickly uses his strength and expertly has me on my back, barely pulling out as he does so.

He wraps my legs around him snugly as he eventually presses his chest against mine. I seal his torso in my arms. He sighs in content when he finds his face on the crook of my neck. He lazily kisses my skin as his his arms loop around my own body.

"I love you, Daemon," I mutter, fingers lightly grazing his skin.

"I love you," he responds, "I will continue to be a slave to your desires."

"Good," I pipe up blinking away the tears that were left in my eyes, "I don't want you to leave me today. Stay right here, like this."

Daemon kisses my neck, "I wouldn't dare move from where I lie."

A good seven days passed, and I was feeling a lot more myself.

Daemon, in all his paranoia that something would happen to me the moment he's not looking, made sure to either not leave my side, or to bring me everywhere with him. And since he really did leave me in quite a discomfort after our intense fucking, it was only now that he was able to bring me along to accomplish his errands.

In all his smugness, he offered to carry me if I still found it difficult to walk. I, of course, slapped him because of this. It obviously didn't hurt him, because I meant it not too, but he promised me he'd get even for it.

Today, we were apparently going for a ride on dragon back.

"How have you been, boy," Daemon calls in High Valyrian as we made our way to his dragon.

Caraxes whines the way he always does. I smile at the creature, sensing somehow that he had missed his rider. Daemon catches this and squeezes my hand in response.

All at once, Caraxes whines shift into a louder more desperate version, dare I say it was a form of discomfort. The unforeseen reaction makes me nervous, especially when the large creature makes his way towards me.

Daemon feels Caraxes' agitation, but he is more concern about mine, which is why he releases my hand and raises it up to the dragon. He promptly scolds the beast in a long string of High Valyrian I wouldn't have been able to understand even if I wanted to.

Caraxes screeches, seemingly determined to go to me.

I decide to walk back slowly, although I do this out of concern more than fear. Perhaps he wanted his rider all to himself. I agree with my mental thought, since deep down, I knew Caraxes would not turn to me will ill-intent.

One of the keepers, I find, is suddenly ghosting a hand over my arm. I gasp at the unexpected touch and furrow my brows at his words that I do not understand.

Daemon's gaze rips away from his dragon over to the keeper, "what did you say?"

The keeper turns from me to my husband, hand pulling away so he could motion to the restless Caraxes.

Daemon's face contorts at whatever it was that he was told. My concern now drifts from the dragon to his rider, "Daemon? What is it?"

He turns away from me, back to Caraxes, hushing him, "I understand now, boy."

I look at Daemon as he offers me his hand without turning away from his mount. I wordlessly take his hand in mine. Daemon pulls me slowly in front of him, hands going to my sides.

Caraxes stands on his legs upon seeing me, letting out a powerful roar.

I reel back, pressing against my husband's chest, "Daemon, I-"

"It's alright," he mutters against my ear.

Daemon looks up to his dragon then screams some sort of accusation.

Caraxes lands back on his claws, huffing out so deeply that there is a strong gust of air that nearly blows me away. Had it not been for Daemon behind me, perhaps I would have fallen on my ass.

Suddenly, I hear Daemon shudder. His hand travel to my belly. He takes one step forward, moving in front of me and calls my name out in praise before kneeling before me.

I look down at him in concern, almost not noticing how Caraxes brings his snout close to me.

I am distracted by the dragon head that I almost don't hear Daemon say, "you're with child."

My hand darts up to Caraxes and my eyes widen as I turn back down to my husband.

He kisses my skirt, but I shake my head in disbelief, "don't mess with me, Daemon."

Daemon looks up at me then stands. He hushes me as he takes my face in his hands, "Caraxes can sense it," he presses a kiss on my forehead, "the gods have finally bended to my will."

Tears begin to glaze my eyes. "Daemon," I grip his wrist and look up at him, "I'm so happy, but what if-"

"Shhh," he pulls me against him, "I will not have you speak ill of this glorious discovery."

I begin to weep, and it seems Caraxes does not enjoy it for he huffs helplessly upon hearing it.

"I will be here, my love," he mutters, "I will do all I can to make sure nothing harms you or our child."

Caraxes makes a sound that seems to be of agreement.