#i will admit. while i do like it and the writing is objectively good. the genesis wave(second) killed a lot of momentum

[gontagokuhara]

i couldnt get to sleep last night so i saw this one in my email as it came in and its just. kisses it. frames it. it has broken down all my defenses

serious note: this is exactly the kind of feedback that genuinely is really encouraging, because not only am i having fun writing it — people are having fun reading it! i’m really proud of pointy objects, but it being enough to convince multiple people (!) to want to read the source material because they like my interpretation so much. sobbies into my hands this is def the kind of comment i save and reread because it makes me happy. thank u 🫶

[iiota]

i dont want to be a dick in the notes of this person asking people opinons on archiesonic but its such a loaded question and im finally reading it at 27 (almost done on the last 60 something chapters) and being an adult there is like so much you Cannot overlook that made my skin crawl that i cannot believe adult men put in a comic aimed at children THATS ABOUT TEENAGERS. GENUINELY GROSS. but i can see how a lot of kids/teens did like it because a lot of weird stuff definitely went over their heads and so they can focus on their fav parts no problem (also nostalgia goggles)

that being said its actually WILD to get to the point where people who care and can actually write a comic story work on it like theres instantly much more intrigue that isnt just a cheap cliffhanger to nothing (although there are at least two chapters i distinctly remember that should be eradicated. i do not know if ian was supposed to use old characters or if he wanted to give everyone a chance in the newer arcs. but. leave some of those guys behind.)

anyways for sure left a hole in my brain definitely an experience dont read anything before chapter 160 especially not 150 just read a recap of what happened before but also i cannot in good conscious recommend it to anyone

[luffington]

meanie ♡

➤ summary: Zoro tests out a remote-controlled vibrator on you in the middle of town. (18+)

➤ pairing: roronoa zoro x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.6k

➤ warnings: voyeurism, semi-public sex, established relationship, degradation, humiliation, fluff at the end, franky being franky, fem terms for reader

➤ notes: i've been thinking about this concept for MONTHS and i finally got around to writing it! might make a sequel featuring sanji.. who knows :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

“What is it?” You asked after several moments of silence, studying the foreign object your boyfriend had placed in the palm of your hand. Bright blue, shaped like an oversized bullet with a slightly tapered tip, coated with soft silicone. It definitely wasn’t a weapon or a tool. Zoro’s matching remote didn’t provide any clues. 

“Something I asked Franky to make.” Zoro answered smugly but internally cringed at the memory. A few days ago, he had approached the cyborg with bright red cheeks and mumbled his request without making eye contact. Franky simply responded ‘suuuperrr!’, and Zoro was still trying to forget the fact that he already knew how to build it. “Wanna see how it works?”

The remote only had three dark blue buttons: up, down, and power. He pressed the latter and you flinched as the object suddenly sprung to life in your hand, vibrating softly but consistently. “It… vibrates? Okay, but what is it used fo–” It finally clicked in your brain. “Ohhh. Oh, Zoro.” 

He mirrored your knowing smirk with his own. “C’mon, let’s test it out.”

You could barely stand the next morning, wobbling along the deck even though the sea was calm. Nami gave you a suspicious look before announcing that the ship was about to stop at a nearby island for a supply refill. 

Zoro approached you from behind, his muscular body pressed against your back. Breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Perfect chance to use it again.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean… on the island? In public?”

“What do you think the remote is for?” He frowned. “We talked about this, I thought you were into it. But if you don’t want to…” 

You shook your head — you definitely wanted to. This was a persisting fantasy of yours, something you’d never admitted to your past partners out of embarrassment. But you trusted Zoro more than anyone. However, touching yourself while imagining the thrill of being caught was very different from the impending reality which made your stomach flutter with anxiety. 

“It’s either in town or on the Sunny. Would you rather maybe get caught by strangers or definitely get caught by our friends?” Zoro added with an annoyed expression, “Knowing my luck, that shitty cook would be the first to notice.”

Okay, he had a point. Not just Sanji – getting caught by any of your crewmates would be incredibly awkward. At least you would never see anyone in town again.

So you let Zoro lead you to the men’s quarters, climbing onto his bed as he grabbed the vibrator from his locker. Laughing as he playfully pushed you flat on your back, slotting himself between your legs and easily pulling down your skirt and undies. He ran two fingers up and down your slit before rubbing your clit in small circles. You bit back a moan – this was gonna be a long day. When you were wet enough, Zoro pushed the vibe snugly inside your pussy.

You expected him to keep going and turn it on, maybe let you cum if he was in an especially good mood. But he hopped off the bed, adjusting his rumpled shirt and leaving you to fix your own clothes. “Let’s get going. I need a fucking drink.”

The two of you had been walking around town for nearly a half hour and Zoro hadn’t touched the remote. You passed a bar fifteen minutes ago and he kept walking – he was stalling. Parading you in front of dozens of new faces and leaving you constantly anticipating the vibrations to start. It didn’t help that he kept his hand and the remote in the same pocket of his pants.

A flashy weapons shop caught his eye. He claimed he needed new materials for taking care of his swords, but you didn’t think there was anything wrong with what he had on the ship. You practically clung to him nervously as he wandered around the shop. He occasionally stopped to study items, seeming a little too interested in a sword that was comically worse than his current ones. 

As he picked it up for a closer look, the toy sprung to life inside of your pussy, causing you to squeal in shock. Vibrations sent shivers up your spine, and you felt a fire ignite in your core just as embarrassment burned in your mind. Zoro turned the power up two levels and snickered when you grabbed onto his shirt sleeve to steady yourself. “Careful, babe, there’s a lot of sharp edges around.”

“I know that.” You pressed your forehead against his shoulder and shut your eyes tightly. Unable to do anything besides rub your thighs together. The vibrations weren’t nearly strong enough to make you cum, but they were impossible to ignore. 

“The shopkeeper’s looking at you.” Your boyfriend whispered in a sultry tone. “Bet he wishes you were clinging to him instead. He definitely knows how easy you are. How easy it is to get your slutty cunt soaking wet. You just need a pair of eyes on you, huh?”

“You’re so mean,” you pouted, clenching onto his arm even tighter. Zoro turned up the toy another level and you bit back a moan. You hesitantly turned to look at the shopkeeper, a balding man with beady eyes. He seemed skeptical, not entirely sure what was going on, but his lecherous gaze still moved up and down your body as if he were appraising you. 

“Stop staring at my girlfriend, you goddamn creep.” Zoro suddenly growled and grabbed your hand, quickly moving to the exit as you stumbled behind him. The shopkeeper flushed red and opened his mouth to respond, but Zoro cut him off. “All of your swords are fucking awful.” 

You giggled as the door slammed behind you. “Zoro, if you’re gonna get jealous, why are we doing this?”

“I’m not jealous. I’m showing off what’s mine.” He was right – ‘jealous’ wasn’t the best word to describe him, since you made it clear that he had no competition. ‘Possessive’ was more accurate. He’d been like that since the start of your relationship. Always asking who your pussy belonged to, marking you with bruises and hickies, making you scream his name over and over as he pounded his cock into you. 

Thankfully, you had grown used to the light vibrations after a few minutes – Zoro was kind enough to turn the power level down, but didn’t shut it off. The two of you entered the bar you’d passed earlier, a dark and dingy place with about a dozen people inside.

“Hey!” Luffy’s obscenely loud voice rang throughout the building. He waved you over to where he was sitting, the large table already covered in empty dishes. Your eyes widened and you subtly shook your head at Zoro. The swordsman ignored you and strolled over to the bar counter to order two glasses of sake, leaving you no choice but to sit across from your captain. 

Your boyfriend placed a glass in front of you and moved his chair incredibly close to yours, resting his hand on your bare upper thigh. You shifted in your seat — big mistake. The toy was now pressed against the most sensitive spot inside you. 

“What’ve you guys been doing? Zoro, I thought you’d come straight here,” Luffy asked around a mouthful of food.

Zoro mentioned the shops you stopped by, casually turning the vibrator much higher mid-sentence. You clamped a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your lewd moan, bending over in surprise as the toy insistently massaged your walls. It simultaneously felt heavenly and sadistic – the unrelenting pressure on your g-spot and Zoro’s big hand tightening on your thigh, clearly satisfied by your response. 

Luffy seemed confused, but Zoro told him that sake doesn’t always sit right with your stomach. Yeah, sure, your glazed over eyes and squirming legs could definitely pass as a stomach ache. Maybe to your oblivious captain, but certainly not to the people around you.

Your boyfriend’s hand moved farther up your leg, sneaking under your skirt to thumb at the waistband of your panties and rub the sensitive skin underneath. The toy got even stronger, probably on its highest setting at this point. Zoro continued his conversation with Luffy without stumbling once, barely glancing at you when you spilled your second round of sake all over your white shirt. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Luffy frowned, leaning across the table to study you closely. You prayed he wouldn’t look down and notice Zoro’s half-hidden hand. “Maybe you should talk to Chopper.”

“No! No Chopper!” You immediately exclaimed, making Zoro chuckle quietly. “I… I mean I’m fine, I’m not sick.”

Your captain hummed in thought, but in typical Luffy fashion, shrugged and said, “Well, whatever.”

Zoro finally turned to look at you with a sly grin. “Why don’t we go to the bathroom to wash off that stain?” You instantly nodded in agreement.

The swordsman shoved you against the wall of a men’s bathroom stall and crashed his lips against yours, devouring your mouth like an animal. One hand held your wrists together above your head and kept you in place as the other trailed across your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits. He delighted in your barely restrained moans and breathy whimpers of his name.

“You have no idea how fucking sexy that was,” he panted against your lips. “You’re so bad at hiding how much of a dirty whore you are for attention. All you need is your cute cunt touched and you’re gone. You probably have no idea where we are right now. The only thing your slutty brain can think about is my cock, right?”

“Yes, fuck, Zoro, I need you so badly.” With a satisfied smirk, he hiked up your skirt and pulled your panties down to your mid-thighs. Unceremoniously pushing two fingers inside your hole to retrieve the vibrator. You were so lucky that the bathroom was empty – the noise you made was unholy. 

“Your panties are fucking soaked,” he snickered, admiring the obvious wet spot on the fabric. But Zoro didn’t turn the toy off, simply turned down the vibrations then reached under your shirt and pressed it against your nipple. You cried out again as he adjusted its position so your bra would keep it firmly in place.

Zoro flipped you around so you were facing the wall. He was right – you were much too cockdrunk (and slightly tipsy on real alcohol) to care about how unhygienic a bar bathroom was. You unconsciously wiggled your hips when you heard the sound of his zipper and felt his hard cock rest on top of your ass. He grabbed your wrists again to keep them firmly pinned behind your back. 

“Don’t even need to prep you, I can just slide right in,” the swordsman chuckled. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit teasingly, then shoved his entire length inside you in one rough thrust. You let out a pleased moan, glad that you were finally getting the orgasm you’d been anticipating for at least an hour. Zoro rested his head in the crook of your neck. “You’re so damn loud. We’re still in public, y’know.”

“So shut me up.” You pressed your lips against his again, tongues swirling around each other in a messy dance as he continued to fuck you hard. His cock hit all the right places inside you, the ridges and veins and warmth giving you a more human sense of satisfaction than the electronic toy ever could. It still buzzed away against your nipple, which was almost painfully stiff at that point. Zoro panted heavily against your mouth – riling you up inevitably got him riled up, and he was just as close to hitting his peak as you were.

The bathroom door opened.

Both of you froze. Your entire body went as stiff as a mannequin, too afraid to even breathe. Zoro narrowed his good eye and listened closely to every single footstep, door creak and ruffle of clothes. There were three bathroom stalls, and the stranger was courteous enough to use the one farthest from you, leaving an empty one in between. Once he was sure that the person wasn’t a Straw Hat, Zoro’s hand moved from gripping your ass to cupping your face, silently pushing two fingers between your lips. You gagged around them anxiously.

“Now we really gotta be quiet,” the swordsman whispered directly in your ear. You didn’t have time to question what he meant before he slowly moved his hips back, his dick pulling out of you inch by inch until only the tip was inside of you. He pushed back in just as carefully, the quietest smack of skin as his hips met your ass echoing in your racing mind. The stranger heard it, you knew he heard it. Zoro shifted again and you shook your head in protest, but he just pushed his fingers farther down your throat and continued to fuck you. 

The sound of a toilet flushing made you jump. Zoro’s hips moved in slow circles and grinded his cock against your walls, deep and deliberate. You heard the stranger unlock his stall and turn on the sink outside. If he glanced in the mirror, he would definitely see two pairs of feet pressed together underneath your stall. Your pussy clenched at the thought, causing Zoro to grunt quietly.

As soon as the bathroom door swung closed, Zoro pulled his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth and you gasped for air. “Good little slut listened to me for once,” he chuckled and resumed his previous brutal pace, thick cock filling your cunt so perfectly and prodding at your cervix. 

“Fuck, I’m so close…” You whined, feeling drool drip down your chin.

Zoro promptly reached underneath you to massage your clit. “I’m right there, too, baby. Cum for me.” His words – his permission – brought you over the edge. You saw stars and really tried your best to not let the entire bar hear you. Moments later, thick spurts of cum coated your insides, Zoro biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own satisfied groan. 

You stayed pressed together as you both caught your breath, his cock still snugly inside you. “Zoro, the vibrator–” He had clearly forgotten about it, but there was no way you could ignore the incessant buzzing against your practically numb nipple. He instantly fumbled to grab the remote from his pocket, finally shutting the toy off.

“My fault,” he mumbled apologetically. Letting out a content sigh and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know I’m an asshole, but, uh, thank you. For being so good to me.”

“You’re not an asshole,” you frowned, gently rubbing the top of his head. “I’m the one who asked for this. I like it when you’re a meanie, and I like that you like it, too.”

He grinned and nuzzled into your touch, prompting you to pull him even closer. “Is there a difference between an asshole and a meanie?”

“Of course. I would never date an asshole. Just a guy who fucks me exactly how I want it.” You giggled to yourself. “We’re going to a clothing store before we leave, by the way. You owe me a new shirt.”

When you exited the bathroom, cheeks still slightly flushed and dry sweat on your temple, Franky had stolen your chair at the table, sitting across from Luffy and chugging a bottle of cola. He spotted you two and immediately gave you a big thumbs up, shouting “Yow!”. Both of you blushed furiously — so much for avoiding getting caught by your crew. Perverts recognized perverts, you supposed. 

[f444wning]

Group Project

𝒞𝒶𝓃 𝐼 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝑒? 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈.⋆₊ ⊹.

Pairing: Modern!AegonxReader

Warnings: 18+, just smut, smut and more smut, spanking, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), p in v, Sunfyre is now a dog, not proofread.

Word count: 3,365

Disclaimer: This is my first time writing something like this so please be gentle!! Feedback is welcome as I might write for our favorite one-eyed prince next.

Description: You’re college students, and you and Aegon have the hots for each other.

“Welcome, everyone, to English 110. I know it is our first day, but we are going to jump straight into our class syllabus…” The teacher spoke, an older, slightly chubby man with glasses in a brown plaid suit. Tapping your fuzzy pen on your desk quietly, you thought about how glad you were that you all were not subjected to another ‘let’s go across the room and say our names and a random fact about ourselves’ cliche. It got old back in high school, and you’re entirely too shy for it. Most wouldn’t know that fact just by looking at you, you were objectively gorgeous (so you’ve been told) and most people’s first impressions of you were that of a party girl and not the nerdy introvert that you actually are.

While you listened to him speak about the upcoming assignments already, your eyes slowly scanned the room. It was one of those stadium-esq classrooms with long rounded tables and about 25-30 other students, all unfamiliar faces. Your mind started to wonder a bit as you got bored of listening to your teacher drone on. You were a good student, but being so focused on academics all the time could be boring. All work and no play, they say.

Everyone was watching the teacher or writing notes on due dates, so you took the chance to get a quick look at your new classmates. However, you nearly jumped out of your skin when your eyes landed on a particular violet set of another, watching you back and making you wonder how long he had been doing so. ‘He is incredibly handsome’ is your first thought after getting over your initial shock. He sent you a cheeky smile, which you returned in amusement before you both turned back to the teacher. The rest of the class was uneventful, with you going back to focusing on what the teacher was speaking about.

As you walked through the door of your apartment, you tossed your bookbag on the floor and smiled as you bent down to pet your dog, a sweet golden retriever named “Sunfyre.” His tail was wagging happily while he licked your hand, causing you to giggle. Living on your own and away from family and friends could get lonely but coming home to such an adorable companion made it easier. When you were done playing with your four-legged companion, you went off to take a hot shower and hopped onto your bed to contemplate your first day at college.

The entire day, whether you wanted to admit it or not, today’s incident with your cute classmate kept replaying in the back of your mind and you couldn’t help but blush thinking about it. His eyes on you made you feel like he was looking into your very soul and you wondered how he could possess such abilities. Shaking your head, and out of your thoughts, you stood up to get your bag so you could get started on your long night of studying, silently cursing yourself for choosing such a prestigious school to go to as it meant a heavy workload.

The next few weeks were uneventful, with the occasional wordless glances and smiles sent back and forth between you and Aegon (you learned his name is thanks to the teacher addressing him a few times). You kept on top of your studies but were dying for some human interaction outside of that godforsaken school. It was hard to make friends with everyone so swamped with work already and those occasional glances weren’t enough for you anymore.

You walked into class and sat in your usual seat, looking over at Aegon and breathing a soft sigh of relief when you saw his mop of white hair. Sadly, it was the only thing getting you through things lately as it seemed. You just hoped he noticed when he would walk out behind you that your skirts got a little shorter and shorter with each class, until it almost reached the limit of being too obscene for the setting. Just because you were shy doesn’t mean you couldn’t find ways to flirt.

“Today I will be assigning partners for our next assignment, I want you all to collaborate with a partner on contrasting argumentative essays. You will both choose a topic to talk about and represent opposing opinions on the matter.” Suddenly, you were anxious. You hated group projects, with your partner/s never seeming to pull their weight and having general disdain about forced interactions with people you don’t care much for. Your eyes widened a little when the teacher read you and your partner’s names aloud, your anxiety somehow both quenched and set aflame at once.

“…. Y/n you will be working with Aegon….” You could not help but smile, you couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. When class ended, Aegon made his way over to you as you packed up your things. “So, I heard that we’re partners.” he said, standing above you, clearly amused. You looked up at him to see his smile as cheeky as ever, bringing one to your face, as usual it seems. “Ah how strange,” you reached your hand out and he gently shook it “I heard the same.” You stood up out of your chair, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “May I get the name of my new partner? You know, for research purposes.” He said, earning a small laugh from you. “My name’s y/n, nice to meet you.” You both started walking out of class and into the halls, with most people already trickled out of the room. “Hmm,” He hummed, seeming pleased to finally have a name to your face “well hello y/n, mine’s Aegon. I guess we should figure out how we’re going to go about this whole… thing.” He motioned vaguely with his hands. “Oh yes of course. We should probably get together to discuss topics and whatnot. Did you have a place in mind?” You said, quickly adding “Anywhere but here, please. I can’t take anymore extra time in this place.” It was his turn to laugh. “A girl of my own heart. I couldn’t agree more. So, your place?” As you reached the gates of the school you turned to him, blushing. You were assuming you both would work on the project somewhere public but the idea of being alone with him made your heart race a little. “Does my partner not have a home of his own?” You teased. “He most definitely does, however his is also infested with a nosy little brother. He’s afraid it won’t bode well with the studies.” He said dramatically. You jokingly sighed. “Alright, well then, I guess mine it is. I’ll see you later tonight?” clasping your hands together you added, “I want to get a head start.” “You’re twisting my arm here!” he said with fake exasperation and pretends to think deeply, “I guess I could see if I can free up my schedule.” “7’oclock it is.” You smiled. As you both turned and started to walk away you swear you could hear him say under his breath something along the lines of “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You spent the next few hours after class showering and tidying up. You weren’t messy but you were nervous and needed to spend that energy somewhere. While you were cleaning you got a call from your best friend back home, going over how the both of you have been since you left town. You couldn’t help but mention your charming new English partner. She was excited for you but warned, “No babies until you graduate!” to which you rolled your eyes. “Nothing is going to happen. I doubt he even thinks of me that way.” You said, stopping playing with a happy Sunfyre. She was not very convinced, and you weren’t so sure you were either.

American Dad played on the TV as you sat curled up on the couch in your athletic shorts and a tee. You figured you might as well be comfortable if you were going to have to work all night. You had set out some paper and things on the coffee table in hopes it would make the process easier. Suddenly, there was a light tapping on your door. Your heart skipped a beat and you jumped up to answer, knowing exactly who it was. Aegon stood at the door, holding a brown paper bag.

“Well that was fast. Did you miss me or something?” He said. You scoffed.

“Miss you for what? And what’s that?” You asked, gesturing to the bag as you let him inside.

“Sheesh, tough crowd.” He set the bag down on an empty space on the coffee table, “My mother taught me to never go to someone’s house without a gift. It’s a little something from my favorite bakery.”

“You didn’t strike me as someone with much of a sweet tooth.” You peeked into the bag and saw 4 red velvet cupcakes, nicely packaged with a bow.

“These are my favorite kind!”

“I definitely knew that.”

You laughed and smacked his arm lightly. “I’m sure you did.”

At the sounds of you and Aegon talking, Sunfyre woke up from his nap in your room and came bounding out with his tail wagging at the sound of a new friend. Aegon looked over and beamed at the pup.

"And who is this cutie?!" He exclaimed, leaning down to pet him. You smiled, watching them.

"That's Sunfyre, only the best boy in all the realm."

"Incredible. Reminds me of my childhood dog." He said as he stood up and Sunfyre retreated back into your room to finish his nap.

You gestured to the couch, turning the TV down. “You can sit anywhere.”

“I love this show. We should watch it together sometime.” He spoke behind you.

You turned to raise an eyebrow at him, but you saw him sat there on your couch, leaned back with his legs spread apart, making you want to walk over and straddle him right there. Or lay across his lap and let him do as he pleases. You quickly looked away as he looked at you with a faint smirk, as if knowing your thoughts. You cleared your throat and sat down next to him, maybe a little too close, and started going over the assignment.

Both of you worked on it for some time, enjoying each other’s company and you were appreciating his occasional comedic relief that made something mundane so much more interesting. That was, until he “accidentally” grazed his hand against your exposed thigh while reaching to grab a pen off of the table, making your breath hitch. You glanced at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice, but once again, those violet eyes were looking into yours, this time something darker in them. You suddenly noticed how little you were wearing, and unbeknownst to you Aegon noticed how it perfectly hugged every curve of your body since you answered the door.

“Are you alright, y/n?” He said quietly, leaning in closer, brows furrowing in mock concern.

Between his closeness, the eye contact and the way he spoke only made keeping your composure harder. He was clearly onto you.

"I'm fine," you replied unconvincingly. "I must just be getting tired."

"Well we can't have that, we have more work to do..."

“…unless you’d like to take a break?” Aegon suggested, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

You laughed nervously, your heart beating faster. “A break sounds nice,” you agreed, trying to sound casual.

Aegon leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. “So, y/n, tell me more about yourself. Besides being a top student, what do you like to do for fun?”

You shrugged, fiddling with the hem of your shorts. “I like reading, watching shows, and spending time with Sunfyre. Nothing too exciting.”

He smiled. “I find that hard to believe. You must have some hidden talents or hobbies.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “What about you, Aegon? What do you do when you’re not charming your classmates?”

He chuckled. “Oh, you know, the usual. Playing guitar, hanging out with friends, trying out new places to eat. And apparently, getting assigned to group projects with beautiful girls.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his compliment. “Well, you seem to be handling it well.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Maybe because I’m in good company.”

The air between you seemed to thicken, the playful banter once again giving way to something more intense. You could feel the pull between you, the unspoken attraction growing stronger.

“Do you want to continue working on the project, or…?” you asked, your voice trailing off as you met his gaze.

“Or…?” he echoed, his eyes locked onto yours.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You found yourself speechless in the moment, but it turned out that you didn't need to say anything more as Aegon finally leaned in and captured your lips with his in a soft, sweet kiss. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. You relaxed into his body as he started to run his hands up and down your sides, slowly lifting up your shirt as he slid his tongue across your bottom lip. He lifted you onto his lap carefully, refusing to break the kiss as your tongues intertwined. He lifted your shirt up to expose your bare chest, thankful that you didn't bother wearing a bra.

He broke away to place kisses down your neck as you slowly grinded against him, feeling the hardness of his cock against you, making him hiss in return. He made his way down your neck to your chest, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and rubbing the other with his thumb. You moaned quietly, looking down at him through your lashes. Your body felt like it was on fire, the tension built making it unbearable. His other hand moved down to squeeze your ass as he pulled away to look at you.

"You don't know how badly I've been dying to do this. Those short skirts..." He trailed off as he his tongue licked a long trail up your throat, ending in another kiss.

"I did that just for you." You replied breathlessly.

"I know. You've been such a bad girl..." He said, slapping your ass and making you whimper. "Such a pretty one at that."

You tugged at his shirt, the need to feel his skin on yours becoming too strong. He helped you pull it off, exposing his muscular chest. You ran your hand across it as he pulled at your shorts. You lifted yourself up as he tugged them off of you. He chuckled.

"No panties either?" licking his lips as his eyes and hands wondered all over your body, wanting to take you in as much as possible. A dark look suddenly appeared on his face.

"Lay across my lap, love." You looked at him curiously but followed his instruction. As you were sprawled over his lap you looked down at the floor, thinking about what could come next in anticipation. Before you could finish that thought, a hard smack landed across your ass. You gasped as a stinging sensation ran over the area.

"You know what happens to teases, right? They must be spanked."

You pressed your thighs together, needing the friction to ease the throbbing between your legs. After a few more good smacks against your bottom, he helped you back up and removed his pants and boxers before laying you down on the couch. His hands caressed your inner thighs gently, slowly making their way up to your core.

"Aeg, please..." You whined. He swears he's never seen anything more perfect laying beneath him like this, begging him for more.

"You sound so sweet like this, love." He said as he moved his head between your legs, his hot breath against your cunt sending shivers down your spine. "What a pretty cunt this is as well. So wet..."

You couldn't hold back anymore as Aegon pushed your thighs apart and he licked a long stripe along your cunt. You moaned loudly, not caring if your neighbors complained. This was everything you needed and more and nothing was going to stop it. He expertly lapped your juices up with his tongue, groaning at the taste of you. He truly ate you as if it was his last meal. When he added a finger and mercilessly curled it into your sweet spot you saw stars, throwing your head back in pleasure. The whole time his eyes were looking up at you, admiring every sound and face you made. Your release came swiftly, desperately gripping the couch as your mouth opened into a silent scream.

Both of you were breathing heavily as he came back up to kiss you, the taste of you on his lips and his chin wet from your slick.

"You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted." He grinned, and you couldn't help but smile back as you panted.

"I can't wait to see how you taste as well, Aeg." You slid your hand down to his cock, gently stroking it and making him groan against your chest where his head rested.

"I'd love nothing more than that. Next time."

You were about to question what he meant by next time but him rubbing his cock against your folds clouded your mind.

"Right now, I need to be inside of you." He was gazing into your eyes, looking for a form of approval. You bit your lip in pleasure at his actions and nodded.

"Please fuck me Aegon."

With that, he lifted your legs onto his shoulders and slowly eased into you, filling you deliciously. It felt like you were stuffed to the brim. A high-pitched moan released from your mouth as he looked down to watch his cock moving in and out of you at a teasingly slow pace, both of you savoring every inch.

"You feel even better than I imagined." He groaned, "How did I get so lucky?" He stopped watching his movements to kiss you. An overwhelming sense of pleasure was building inside you left you wanting more from him.

"More, Aeg. Fuck me h-harder." You said, looking up at him. You didn't have to tell him twice, as he pushed your legs together and up against your chest, allowing him to dig deeper as he sped up his pace. You gasped, getting what you asked for and more.

"F-fuck..." You started rambling nonsense, delirious as he hit your sweet spot over and over again. You felt your sweet release coming after a few minutes of his relentless thrusts. When your walls tightened around him, Aegon let out a moan as he felt his coming as well.

"Cum for me, love. Let me feel it." He panted.

With a few more thrusts he felt your walls constrict on him as you came. He followed close behind, hissing as he hesitantly pulled out of you to release on your stomach. You both tried to catch your breath as he moved to stand up, a satisfied grin creeping onto his face. You threw your shirt at him, laughing at his unseriousness as he went to fetch a rag to clean you off with.

As he was wiping himself off of your stomach he chuckled "So much for finishing that project tonight, huh?"

You shook your head, too tired to even think about it anymore. He tossed the rag to the side and picked you up off the couch and carried you into your bed. Sunfyre was still sleeping in his own bed in the corner and for a moment you wonder how he seemed to sleep through all of that. Aegon laid next to you as you rested your head on his chest, sighing at the comfort you felt. As he stroked your hair you lulled into a restful slumber. One you much needed for class again tomorrow. Before completely succumbing to sleep you mused to yourself that you should really thank your professor.

[xokohaneazusawa]

Could I request Isagi, Chigiri, and Kaiser getting jealous of their s/o's plushie collection of them?

-> Definitely didn’t write this when I should have been doing my photography work ✋ but whatever I mean I was literally just sitting outside so decided to make the most of it

Isagi

-> Having a famous football player as a boyfriend was nothing to sneeze at, I mean the paparazzi and the fact that he was never really around, but the good thing was there was a lot of merch of him all over the internet, and one day when you were alone in your moods you decided that you were gonna get some of the merch you found and eventually you had a whole collection of stuff

-> It wasn’t until much later that Isagi finally got home from one of his games and came to visit you just to see his normal spot, cuddling with you was now filled by one of many plushie versions of himself

-> Merely chuckled and took a couple of pictures at first before trying to take it out of your arms but that’s when he realized that you were not letting it go, and that’s when he started to get a little jealous of Mini him

-> It wasn’t until the morning that you realized that he had gotten home and were super excited to see him only for him to be a wee bit upset and wouldn’t tell you why, but you figured out pretty fast when he kept side-eyeing the plush versions of him sitting on your bed and desk

-> That’s when you got to laugh and hug him while assuring him that they were not there to replace him, but just to keep you company when he wasn’t around.

-> But knowing him he just suggested that you should just call him wherever you were about to go to sleep so he could still be with you no matter the time difference.

Chigiri

-> MAN IS SIDE-EYE CENTRAL OVER HERE

-> Will REFUSE to tell you why he’s so upset even after coming home to you after winning a game

-> He will never admit to being jealous over an inanimate object, but he knows on the inside that he may or may not see it go flying out of the room later on

-> When he got home and saw you cuddling with a tiny version of him all while reading one of the many books from your bookshelves and surprisingly in where he would normally sit, he was a little pissed

-> It wasn’t until you decided to go to bed and through finding out by his side eyes that he, in fact, did not think plushie was a good replacement as you phrased it, you decided that instead of cuddling up to him like you normally would you instead cuddled with the plushie which only made him roll his eyes and end up throwing it somewhere else in the room, saying something along the lines of why would you need a stupid not real version of him when he was here right now

Kaiser

-> Definition of LE GASP

-> How could you cuddle with a mini him when perfectly good-sized him was right in front of your face?! Ness would never

-> Would throw it and cuddle into you the second he could get his hands on it, no matter what you were doing. Studying? Not more important the love of your life (as he likes to call himself)

-> Will steal all of them and hide them in places where it’s either out of reach from you or somewhere that you will never find no matter how hard you try (Petty Bitch)

-> Refuses to tell you where they are until you either reject giving him cuddles or kisses

-> Another one who will throw them if he finds you cuddling with them when you could totally be cuddling with him, a disgrace really

-> May or May not get a call from Ness later on shaming you for making Kaiser upset with a plush version of himself

[enhastolemyheart]

enha + boyfriend moments ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

pairing non idol!enha x fem!reader warnings none genre fluff est. relationship nets @k-films @kflixnet

a/n I wanted to try something different this time. sorry i went mia for so long :(( i decided to do something for all of enha boys and i hope u enjoy!! also i totally forgot abt jungwon's allergies while writing his part so less jus pretend he is not allergic to cats :((

banners by @cafekitsune

LEE HEESEUNG ツ

i feel like heeseung would always and i mean ALWAYS trap you between himself and whatever other object is there near you. I honestly feel he loves to see you flustered and ears all burning red just from a mere touch as he very smoothly traps you between his arms, nowhere to escape. like, the look on your face is such a ego booster and this little "moment" has to happen at least once a day. It is just a heeseung coded move and it gets you worked up every single time.

"hee, I just had to go get groceries real quick, can you let me go?" You try to excuse yourself from his hold as you were trapped between the counter and his arms. "no baby," he bends to meet your eye level, "you left without giving me a kiss." he moves in so close you think you'll combust. "cmon baby, make it up to me."

more under the cut!

PARK JONGSEONG ツ

we all know Jay's love language is acts of service and maybe even gift giving. cmon, its obvious that jay is the kind of person to always buckle your seatbelt for you, open any kind of door for you, cook meals that remind you of your culture and hometown, likee he is literally the sweetest boyfriend ever. he's perfect. he is also the type to always have a belonging of your in his bag whenever you both are outside. like that is so jay coded.

your day started with a quick breakfast at a cafe, and then your extravaganza at the amusement park. You and jay went through it all, the amazing food, the thrilling rides. he even held your hand the whole through the roller coaster to help you conquer your fear. he was there every step of the way and you both had so much fun. the sun had started setting and so you both get seated at a highly reviewed restaurant in the park for dinner. Just as the food came, you wanted to tie your hair up, feeling scorching due the humid air and all that walking you did. noticing you were having trouble finding your tie, Jay casually puts his wrist closer to you where a hair tie was sitting. "here, i kept an extra."

SIM JAEYUN ツ

jake is definitely the type of boyfriend to take you out on night drives. windows rolled down, music blasting in the air, one hand on the wheel and the other intertwined with yours. you couldn't have spent your night with jake in any other way. he loves you with all his heart and i feel like one way of showing it is through songs, so what's better than listening to playlist he made for when he thought of you, while riding around the city at its most quiet hour?

"baby, i just added some new songs to the playlist." he confesses, giving your knuckles a sweet kiss before bringing it back onto your lap. "yeah? lemme hear it jakey." he giggles as he presses play "i love you, my girl." he looks at you the whole time you were listening, together on a blanket as you indulge the beautiful night sky.

PARK SUNGHOON ツ

one thing that sunghoon loves but doesn't want to admit is waking up in your arms. quite literally, he loves falling asleep on your chest with your hand massaging his back and hair. ugh, he'd just melt to sleep then and there itself. don't get him wrong, he absolutely loves seeing you under his arms first thing in the morning. but, something about being in your embrace where he can be vulnerable and himself is just far much better. he absolutely love your sweet and hoarse voice as you greet him a good morning and then proceed to pepper his precious face with kisses to start of the day right. he feel so much better with you and your presence.

the little kisses being left on the top of sunghoon's hair wakes him up. he looks up at you from his place, hair all strewn, arms wrapped around your midriff while head tucked inside the crook of your neck. you giggle softly at his sleepy smile before running a hand through his hair, "good morning, sleeping beauty." he huff as you see the evident pink on his cheeks. "good morning" comes out muffles due to how close his mouth is to your skin, placing gentle kisses and squeezing your waist. he looks up at you through his eyelashes, giving you a full, sweet good morning kiss and murmuring that he wants to stay five more minutes in bed.

KIM SUNOO ツ

this is such a sunoo coded thing. but, he absolutely LOVES doing masks and manicures with you. like, imagine just sitting on your bed, face masks on and gossiping about anything and everything while painting each others' nails. sunoo is the type of boyfriend in whom you'll find a best friend. like, he is always the first you would go to share news and stuff and vice versa.

"and so because of niki, we got the rest of the day off!" sunoo exclaimed finishing the mini story of a recently occurred event. you couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the story. minutes pass, and now he is painting your nails this time, both of you rocking a baby pink color. you both end up binging 2000s rom-coms before dozing off sleeping soundly in each others' arms.

YANG JUNGWON ツ

ugh. jungwon is such a soft boyfie. he is always by your side helping/accompanying you to anything and everything. jungwon is very kind and caring and takes care with so much love, he loves you more than himself. he is the type to always greet you with warm hugs and cheek kisses. hand holding when going on a stroll outside no matter the time of day. he is also very BIG on words of affirmation. he is always telling he loves you and he makes sure you know.

"omg! won, look!" you point at the stray cat that was situated under a tree near the trail of the pretty park you both are at. he looks at it with wide eyes before slowly moving towards the cat, wanting to greet it. once the ginger cat understands that you both mean no harm, it starts to get close with jungwon rubbing up against his leg. "it is so cute won, it looks just like you!" you exclaim resulting in a chuckle from your boyfriend. he slowly picks up the cat, bringing its face close to his before turning to you. "see baby, you can't tell the difference between me and the cat, can you?" you chuckle softly kissing his cheek. you both decide to take the cat to a vet and then give it some food and shelter for the night.

NISHIMURA RIKI ツ

this kid. as much as playful he is, he is as equal in being sincere and true to himself and your relationship. he loves to tease you. i think quality time is one of his ways of loving you, so i can def see you both out on adventurous dates together. whether it be basketball dates, going to an amusement park together, spending time with each other at 4 am having ice cream, anything and everything you do, it's always filled with love and laughter that make up wonderful memories.

"come on baby, try and take it from me." niki exclaimes as yet again steals the basketball from your hold dribbling slowly towards the basket. "ugh, you and your damn long legs." you mumur. he laugh at your comment before stopping in front of you. he is so close that you know you are going to turn red soon if he doesn't back up. "here." he puts the ball in front of you, and you have to declare yourself stupid because inches before you can get the ball, he raises his arms, putting the ball way out of your hold. "riki! not fair." you out as you try and jump to get the ball. Niki simply laughs at your silly attempts. "you are so cute, you know that?" he bends to meet your eye level, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. "i love you" knowing the effect you had on him, you managed to snatch the ball before running away and yelling, "i love you too dork!" niki smirks at your escape before chasing after you.

a/n. tysm for reading!! i hope u liked it! this was not proofread!!

perm taglist: @jak-ey ; @snoowhore ; @hsgwrld ; @seungiesluv ; @1-800shutthefuckup ; @heeseungshim (send an ask to be added)

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ HIDDEN HEARTSTRINGS Pt. 2 ]

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A/N: Don't kill me please guysss! I started like 3 classes last week so I haven't had time to write!

WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ SLIGHT BDSM ] + [ CREAMPIE ] + [ BRANDING ]

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Swallowing your pride was easier said than done. Every nerve in your body screamed to move away from Alastor, cower somewhere safe and out of his reach, even if it wouldn't do you much good. He could do as he pleased with you, demand your obedience as he saw fit, and force your compliance without a second thought.

All of that imminent control loomed over your head and weighed your chest with anxiety while the courage to speak faltered, but as scared as he made you feel, he still felt like the safest person to be around.

Sitting there, in his lap, alone with no chance of avoiding him, was personalized torture. You hadn't muttered a completely coherent phrase since he'd brought you to the Radio Tower, face burning rose red as your brows knitted together with worry and your eyes fixed on the details of his suit rather than his face. You noted how smooth and taut the fabric spread over his form; you'd always been aware of how much larger the stag was compared to you; his thighs were firm against your ass which helped spread your softer ones apart. If you so much as shifted an inch or he decided to lift his leg, your skirt would ride up and reveal what was hidden underneath. A perfect position to rut in, a prime opportunity to alleviate the ache building in your cunt, but you refused to admit or show the desire to do so in his presence.

You'd have to take care of it yourself later in the evening like always. The objective of walking out of this intense situation was your concern at the moment, and so you lifted your head to stare at him, hopefully.

“What I said earlier…” you trailed off as Alastor hummed, a low crackle coating the noise as he brought a hand to rest under his chin. You watched as he leaned back, utterly relaxed, waiting for you to continue.

The smirk on his face annoyed you, a clear sign he either found your flustered state inconsequential or laughable. It wouldn't be abnormal for Alastor to react that way; it was his nature, and your fire little crush on him wouldn't change that.

I might as well get this over with…

Your face fell into a pout, hands raising to hug your arms to ease the goosebumps rising on your skin. “What I said earlier was in the heat of the moment. You're my master, and I see you as nothing more..”

The lie stung your tongue as it slipped off, gaze hardening to mask the disappointment felt in yourself for doing so.

Alastor remained silent; an elongated beat of anticipation hung above you both, growing denser as his predatory red eyes bore into yours. “I see,” he muses, voice low and thoughtful, but his smile strained.

“You feel nothing for me at all, my dear?”

You nod timidly, counting the seconds until he lets you off his lap and allows you to leave, “Nothing at all.” You repeat, gulping a whimper down as his free hand kneads the fat of your hips. “I'm not sure I believe that, darling. You’ll need to prove it to me.”

Your eyes widen, your tummy backflips, and your hands ball into tight fists as panic sets into your bones.

He couldn't be serious?!…

“W-what? How am I supposed to do that?!” you whined defiantly, frustrated with the stag and unbearably antsy.

Now, he was toying with you. Like always, you didn't deem that fair on his part -as if he ever played by any rules.

Alastor cocked his head to the side, “Oh, I think you're well aware of how sweetheart. It's truly a matter of what you prove to me by the end.” The commotion of radio static overlapped his voice heavily, emphasizing his hidden command with demonic prowess, and your body buzzed with unbridled fear at the sound.

What the hell is he talking about?..

Wait…

Within seconds, your brain caught up to his implication, and your hips instinctively bucked forward. Embarrassment crept up your spine, written all over your face as the overload chuckled at the impulsive action.

It would help if you had forced yourself up; you should've put up more of a fight as his hand on your hip lowered to slip under your skirt and up your inner thigh. It would help if you had leaped away, ran, or done anything to distance yourself and Alastor.

Yet, all you could manage was a soft, “Please don't..” as he touched you, but your plead received no compliance. Your body betrayed your consciousness; arousal pooled on his deft digits as he pushed two past your lace panties and straight into your eager cunt. The unusual invasion had your walls clamping down hard, spasming with need as he roughly curled his clawed fingers forward, and you yelped in shock at the immediate assault of your sweet spot. You weren't accustomed to being stretched by anyone else besides yourself, used to your fingers, but constantly thinking of having Alastor’s inside of you instead.

He was anything but a gentle demon, so you'd conclude that he'd be brutal in bed, but it still overwhelmed you. “You're not convincing me very well, little one.” his free hand found your face, clutching it tight as he dragged your head up to pull you closer. You whimpered as his nails pricked your soft skin, adding to the mix of agony and amazement you felt while he stretched your cunt in an unpredictable pattern.

“I. I don't feel anything for you. I’m not lying-ah! Nngh! Mm..” you writhed in his grasp, trying to pull away but only amplifying the friction of his hand against your cunt. Alastor pressed his palm to your clit, dragging a surprised scream from you as he rubbed slow circles on it. You lost it then, mind shutting off as he edged you tirelessly, and the added pressure on your bundle of nerves collided with the fullness his fingers provided.

Alastor hovered his lips above yours, drinking in your sultry whines and bashful moans. The fear never faded from your eyes; battling the lust that threatened to take its place and seeing the conflict in your innocent nature had his blood running hot.

Ruin you.

He wanted nothing more than to chip away at your indifferent demeanor, know just how soft and gullible you could be for him, and figure out how to abuse it until your soulbinding contract extended to ownership of your body.

His cock twitched to life at the thought of fucking you, dumb; hearing you admit over and over again that your affection for him knew no bounds doused his being in pure excitement.

A growl rumbled in Alaster's chest; his antlers grew larger with every desperate moan you let out, and his ears twitched upon hearing them reach a higher pitch.

You were dangerously close to your end, thighs quivering from the force of his hand thrusting against your slippery folds, slick dribbling down your inner thighs, which created an absolute mess on his lap.

“Look where your sweet little lie got you, my dear. Desperate for pleasure and willing to whore yourself out to me to prove a pathetic point..” The coil in your stomach wound tighter as the owner of your soul belittled you; the harsh word should've wounded you and made your senses reignite, but all it achieved was bringing tears to your eyes.

Bit by bit, your self-esteem declined, dulling the pride that ruled your heart and scattering to the furthest parts of your brain as he curled his fingers forward against a spongy sweet spot. “Oh fuck!” you shouted, trying to raise your hips away from him as a dizzying high rushed through your veins, steadying yourself by fisting the lapel of his suit for dear life. Alsstor turned his gaze downward, breathing in the scent of your cum with a pleased him vibrating in his chest as the creamy liquid drenched his hand, “Never imagined a tiny thing like you could make such a mess .” He slowed his pace, milking your cunt for all it was worth, marveling at how much cum he could extract from you with just his touch.

You shivered violently, choking on wanton screams and feeling lightheaded as he continued to stretch your gummy walls. If he didn't let up soon, you'd unravel again, faster than the first time, and so with the last bit of your self-awareness, you slumped forward into his chest before pulling your head to whisper in his ear.

“Wanna feel you, please.. I'll say whatever you wanna hear. Just fill me up, please.” The hold you had on his coat tightened, your claws elongating as a feverish need built in your core again, intensifying as Alastor nipped at your ear. You jolted, whimpering as his fangs drew blood from you, and the roar of white noise died down to allow his average voice clarity as he muttered into your skin. “Begging becomes you, my dear.”

The satisfied laugh he let out burned you, consumed you entirely, and though it felt cruel to hear it, you smiled proudly.

Your desperation pleased him. That was all you cared to know or think of as he withdrew his slender, blackened fingers from your generously stretched entrance. He left you empty, dripping with excitement and purring in his ear for more.

“Mmm, sweet, you are a little one. You should have a taste as well,” Alastor lapped at his hand, tongue lazily running from the heel of his palm to the tip of his claws, savoring your essence with a widening grin before pushing a single-digit pad on your lips. “Mphm,” you whine as you suck, eyes rolling as the mixture of your drool, his saliva, and the lingering residue of your cum dissipates onto your tongue like melting honey. He watched you intently, finding your willingness adorable, “Yes, just like that little one. Give me your all…show me how filthy you can be..”

His praise was enough to make you come again, untouched but gushing as if he'd shoved his fingers back inside you. The blush on your cheeks grew, shy whines spilling past your spit-slick lips, muffled as he replaced his hand with his own. Alastors tongue found yours, forcing it to compete for dominance, though it was apparent you were far from intelligent thought, and you let him explore your mouth as he pleased.

Borboun, blood, & brimstone.

That's what the Radio Demon tasted like, and you greedily accepted one heated kiss after the next, mewling and trembling as he sunk his fangs into your bottom lip. The deliberate pain he inflicted shocked you into a stupor; blood doused your tongue and consequently coated his as well. Alastor groaned in delight as you squirmed against helplessly, fearing the taste of your blood and afraid he'd draw more of it if you didn't break yourself away from him. He let you struggle, pants tightening at his crotch, an almost painful pulse coursing through his cock as your small body tried to peel away from him.

“Careful, little one,” he disconnects the kiss, breath fanning over your swollen lips as he warns you, and fear gets the better of you then.

Alastor could hurt you.

He would if it pleased him.

You'd crossed a line into territory no bound soul should ever do with its captor.

The limits you set not longer applied, thrown to the wind as the stag turned you in his lap, ripping your skirt and panties to shreds with a pass of his claws. You watched the fabric float to the floor at his feet, unconsciously shaking as he snaked his arms around your chest and waist, hugging you close like a puppet tied to his strings. You were exactly that, a frightful little thing who could barely think straight as he reached to undo the front of his pants, pulling his cock free with a heavy growl in your ear.

Your eyes went wide, feeling his length against your Lowe back, warm, throbbing, and not a size you could take in one go -let alone for the first time. “That's not going to fit-,” He rutted against you, silencing your apprehension with a statiky groan, “Nonsense, sweetheart. You've done splendidly for me so far. I know you'll be just fine..” Alastor had lost control of his voice, letting it slip into normalcy as lust clouded his judgment, and the minuscule deviation made you dizzy.

Did you entice him that much to the point he faltered in his persona?

Fascinating.

A shallow giggle left your lips as he mumbled obscenities into your ear, switching between adamant praise and shameless degradation while his shadow tendrils materialized around your thighs. You squealed quietly as they dug into your skin, lifting you off his lap just high enough to hover your count over his cock. “Take a breath, darling,” Alastair whispered, a hint of care in his tone, and you craned your head to give him a curious look, “Why-?! Alastor! Fuck, wait!-” You yelped as his shadows pulled you down onto him with force, knocking the wind out of your chest and gradually splitting your cunt open to fit him entirely.

It hurt like hell, as if you were being ripped down the middle, but as quickly as the agony began, pleasure burned in its wake. Alastair felt it first, antlers doubling my size as his claws dug into your skin and his patience waning thin. Your creamy walls engulfed him deliciously, a feeling he could only describe as heavenly, intensifying with every resistant jut of your hips.

“S’ too much! Al, please,” you cry, out of breath and lightheaded. One glance downward, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to take much more, a small mound already visible in your stomach and your cunt squelching as he shifted underneath you. “Oh, but you feel so divine, little one.” He coos in your ear, growling a curse when you sink on his cock inch by inch, and your hands fly to grip at his larger ones that rest over your breasts and abdomen.

His encouragement rings in your ears like bells, diverting your frenzied doubts long enough for your body to be tense, allowing his shadows to bring you down.

Thank satan, I’m dead already, or this would surely be my end…

Alastor groaned loudly, head tipping back, crackling waves of white noise emitting from him as you took all he had to offer. “Knew you could do it, baby. Fuck, I’m so proud…of you,” the overload drawled lazily, smiling softly as you went weak against him, mindlessly rolling your hips to take him deeper.

To hell with thinking about anything. You found no use for it being stuffed full with no choice of escape.

You thought about him all day.

Did what he asked of you, obediently and without complaint.

Caring for him was bound to happen; craving to know what it felt like to have him all to yourself couldn’t be helped, so why deny this glorious opportunity to quell both desires?

Strings attached or not, you wanted him and couldn’t bear lying about it any longer.

A sick smile etched its way onto your face, spreading wide as you took control of your hips, setting a timid pace to get accustomed to his size. Alastor huffed a laugh, head tucked in your shoulder, fangs nipping at any skin he could reach while you slid up and down his length. It was no easy task for a fragile demoness like yourself, the little strength you had dwindled quicker every time the head of his cock hit your cervix. Yet, you couldn't stop moaning louder, slamming down harder to feel the burning stretch that followed tingles of pleasure as your warm walls committed the very shape of him to memory.

Alastor peered at your face, red eyes glowing as they zeroed in on your twisted expressions—satisfaction, pain, determination, and desperation.

He'd never imagined you to make such faces, used to seeing your usual sweet smile that could melt the coldest heart or the delicate frown you'd present when something didn't go your way. You hid a lot from others, him exceedingly, and he couldn't be you for it.

However, if this is what you looked like, delirious and nearly fucked out, he wouldn't mind seeing you express yourself in his presence.

All that need in your eyes when you levered your head back, the stars in them when he began to meet your tired thrusts with vigorous ones of his own, and the blissful scream you let out in gratitude amounted to a resolution he'd previously set aside.

Owning your soul would never be enough.

No, the radio demon needed a tangible claim to you, a mark of some sort to let every being in hell know your body belonged to him.

“Tell me, do you wish to be mine, Y/n?…” he held your gaze, hands finding your hips to slow the rise of them, and you immediately whined an answer to his question from the loss of friction. “Yes..w-whatever you want from me, I'll g-give it… hmm.” your skin crawled as the knot in your stomach begged to slip free, enduring solid strokes from the demon holding you, shamelessly covering you into another deal.

One that'd leave more than a green chain around your neck.

Alastors ears twitched at your confession, signaling his amusement, but the action went unnoticed by you as he hovered a hand over your chest. “A wise choice, my dear,” he muses, a green glow passing from your palm to the center of your chest, eliciting an intricate sigil on your skin. You glanced down, admiring the distinctive red markings on your skin, and you could only describe the sight as endearing.

He hummed as you clung tighter to him, trying to speak but giving up as he relented his steady strokes to rapid thrusts. Your mouth fell open, back arching away from his chest as you erupted into a fit of high-pitched moans. It crossed your mind for a second that the entirety of hell might hear you, that heaven might very well know his name solely from your screams, but you could care less.

Alastor did not seem to mind either, grunting and growling in your ear lowly. The tremor of his overlay shattering as his cock twit he'd inside you and his grin pulling itself taut as your slippery cunt suffocated it in response. You were close, deathly aware of it too, but intended to last as long as he did.

Intended, but ultimately unsuccessful.

“For the love of- Alastor!��� you groaned incredulously, losing your grip on reality as his shadows wrapped around your knees, bringing them in close together before pressing into your chest. The new angle made you feel every vein in his cock, how it fits just right in your womb, how hard it could press into your sweet spot.

It made you delirious within seconds, your horns revealing themselves and nails digging into the back of his hands viciously as your high reached its peak.

“Fuck!” Alastor hissed, disregarding his aversion to cursing while you came, walls holding him in with a vice-like grip. A shaky whine tumbled from you as your essence leaked out, coating his comic in a thick sheen and turning cold as it trickled down your skin.

There was so much of it, more than you were used to, but it made it all the easier for him to continue slamming up into you. “M’ going to come again if you don't stop,” you mumbled dazedly, body going weak as overstimulation raced through it, but Alastor paid your warning no mind. “Then so be it, little one,” he purred, voice more profound than usual as it ran in your head. You smiled mischievously, giddy after coming down from an intense high and on the verge of another as he used you like a ragdoll.

Your delighted giggles stirred Alastor, creating a lethal combination with your unapologetic smile as he chased his release. The red markings on your chest caught his eye, dimly glowing under his scrutiny and a visual reminder to you both what this exchange meant.

You reached a hand up to trace over the sigil on your chest, shivering as he watched your fingertips gingerly graze his binding on you. The docile action drew him over the edge, buried to the hilt inside you as he painted your walls white. You writhed in pleasure, mewling softly as your stomach swelled slightly, and your thighs shook from the intensity of your reaching end in the midst of his.

Alastor inhaled sharply, radio waves humming through the air as he finished, refusing to pull out of you entirely until he was sure you'd taken every drop of his cum. The specters on your legs vanished, leaving you to slump back into his chest, and you considered falling to the floor in fear he'd put you there himself.

You were surprised when he didn't do so, opting to settle his head in the crook of your neck while trying to catch his breath for a moment before sitting straight up again. Alastor let a beat of silence pass, straightening himself up to look decent but not saying a word to you as the air of lust evaporated. You frowned, a little hurt he wasn't speaking, but primarily concerned if you disappointed him.

You went to stand up, head hanging low as you considered what to do or say, but a force tugged you back down into his lap. The mark on your chest stung a bit, only calming when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, “M’ sorry!” you quickly rushed out an apology, afraid of his possible wrath, but he merely chuckled at your sudden fear.

“There's no need to fret, little one. I mean, you no harm from here on out so long as you remain at my side..” the stag emphasized his demand by trailing a hand from the cum induced hump in your abdomen to the etchings on your chest. A timid blush rose in your cheeks as the radio demon hummed melodically, admiring his work on you as he snapped his fingers. The room was no longer stuffy, spacious, and filled with his scent.

Your eyes trailed the expanse of the new view, familiar with it despite only visiting his room once before for a few moments. It felt cozier than you remembered, or maybe exhaustion was getting to you.

Whatever the case was, you were simply happy to be in his space, perplexed by the arrangement but grateful for it nonetheless. Alastor held you steady in his arms, letting you marvel at the room as he guided you toward the nearest sofa. “You don't have a bed?” you asked him innocently, concerned that he wasn't getting proper rest, but he didn't seem to be bothered by your questioning.

“I'm not one to rest often, my dear.” he sat you down on the plush couch, smile softening as you stared up at him, ears flattening while worry clouded your tired eyes. “How do you not sleep, Alastor? Aren't you ever tried?..” you looked him up and down, blushing as he laughed, “Are you always this curious, little one, or does your special interest in me make you bolder than usual?”

“N-no, it's just that…” you paused, watching as he summoned himself to change clothes, doing the same for you with a wave of his hand. Alastor took his time addressing, waiting for you to continue explaining with a knowing smile plastered on his face.

You avoided staring at him as he changed, catching a glimpse of scars on his body as he slipped on a white dress shirt, and you swore it looked just as good on him as the red and black one he always wore did.

“Don't keep me waiting, doll. Speak.” He scolded, amused by your stalling but not a fan of unfinished sentences. You gulped, becoming skittish as his command hung in the air, but complying within seconds

“I just hoped to spend a little more time with you. Besides what we just…” you couldn't put it into words, biting your tongue at the recent memory, and you half expected Alastor to disregard your implication, but he did nothing of the sort.

“The seal I've placed on you won't allow you to leave my side unless I explicitly give my permission. If you're asking to stay the night with me, I can assure you I've already decided you'll do so.”

You blinked, smiling wide as he rested a hand on your head, petting you just as he'd done in the hotel lobby.

“I don't think I'd ever want to leave your side anyway,” you mumbled absentmindedly, leaning into his touch as he crouched down to be eye level with you, “So, it's settled then. You'll need no one else besides me, correct?”

You nod, eyes lighting up with pure submission, “Yes, sir.”

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxx

Someone said Alastor stands when he sleeps and just stares at a wall in his room and I think that's fucking haliarous. Imagine walking in on him sleeping and he literally flinches from shock and falls backward on his ass cause he doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until someone startles him. In all honesty he is me and I'm him cause I don't sleep either. ❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He’s so…corny but fucking cute so I’ll let it slide THIS TIME… also I love it when his eyes narrow like oh my god yes glare at meeee silly red takes mann! ❤️ credit to creator!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Okay, so in one of the comments that you replied to in your “gold rush AU! Konig”, you stated that she’s heads over heels in love with him, but apparently hasn’t shown/told him yet. And even though he believes that she doesn’t love him, he’s still so in love with her and just wants to make her happy. (That has got to pull at her heartstrings because this odd but kind man simply just loves her.)

Would you be willing to do a next part? Showing that she was just resisting what she knew along and that was that she does love and only wants him. Because although he went about marrying her immediately instead of taking the time to get to know each other and even though he’s from an European background, who is a giant with an accent and working to hit gold to support her financially, he’s still been nothing but kind, loving, and can apparently rock her world in bed! (Basically she was resisting in giving in into admitting she loves him because she had this WHOLE mindset/vision about how it was ALL gonna go down but since it didn’t go the way she thought it would, she was resisting his love for the “fairytale” version she wanted.)

Eventually she finally confesses that she does love him but had to get to that conclusion slowly on her own terms. This of course makes him so happy and he feels so blessed to gain his wife’s love; he once again promises that he will do everything in his powers to ensure she’s happy for all the rest of the days of her life. Which he does because some time later he hits it big in gold which lets him upgrade the “shack” they’re living in to convert it into an actual home for them to spend the rest of their lives together (with future children).

And he asks her of what she wants him to buy for her since he can afford to get it for her, only for her to ask for a new and bigger (so he fits comfortably) reinforced bed; because she wants him to be able to rest properly in a comfortable bed AND she doesn’t want to hear it creak as he plows her into nirvana/heaven. This of course causes him to blue screen but once he reboots his brain, he promises that he’ll get the best bed that will not only support their nightly activities but be very comfortable for both of them.

It’s only once they get the new bed and use/“break it in”/“christen” it for the first time does he finally gets her pregnant on that first night.

Oh, your writings are just so good! 😊

Oh I love the bed scenario and König wanting to spoil her and the story about how he got her pregnant for the first time (you can’t tell me these two won’t have a small flock of annoying little kids running around eventually) so much! 😭💞

And I actually wrote a little something for this because people were putting me in jail for the roaring angst of the 1st part so here’s how these silly pookies got to their happily ever after:

Our pompous little mail order bride is, in fact, so in love with König that it’s not even funny.

It's so bad that she looks out the window and sighs as she waits for him to come home... Scoots away the minute she catches him in the horizon, of course. She has better things to do than wait by the window sill like some wanton prostitute!

She whimpers like one, however, when the door slams shut and her husband comes to grope her from behind, telling her he wants to take her on the table (there’s food there and they were supposed to eat first, what a horrible man!) Not to talk of getting wet just from the sight of him looming over her, she has no objections with getting spread on the sturdy planks for taking. She should probably be thankful that the dinner table is made of solid wood and is not some delicate piece hauled here from Europe because it could never take the brute force of König’s advances...

After they're both sated and done, he dares to dip his finger in one of the cast iron pots filled to the brim with stew. Has a taste while still inside her, only chuckles to himself when she furrows her brows from how uncivilised he is. What kind of a man barges in his home like a burglar, takes his wife on the table, then tastes the hearty stew like it’s only normal for a man to be hungry after plowing his lady until they're both shaking? Even the bed is about to break at night, these pieces of furniture have done nothing wrong to this man and yet he treats them like they're nothing but disposable bits of wood.

His lack of manners never ceases to astonish her; he even tries to give her a taste of the food too, and laughs when she pushes him away and straightens her skirts, how is she supposed to walk around with his seed running down her thighs? All the pretty things he got her from town are in need of a wash already, but she still hums a soft happy tune while looking at her reflection in the mirror, donning the pretty hat he just brought her along with coffee and flour. (She thinks he can’t hear or see her being visibly happy, but König takes mental notes every time her eyes shine a little brighter from his gifts. She's not lacking anything, that's for sure, and isn’t it nice that he remembered how she looked at that silly little hat when they walked by her favorite store…? Anything his princess wants, she shall have!)

Years and years of lonely digging in this harsh land far away from home have made her husband think that no woman could ever want him unless he buys their love, and she does enjoy the pretty little frills he brings her as offerings. But what would kill her is if he knew she had actual feelings for him… This was supposed to be an arrangement, a marriage between two adults, not a romantic passionate affair! That sort of thing only happens in books, that's the first thing she learned when she came here.

He should have courted her properly first, but now it's all ruined, there's no excitement and intensity... Except that her heart is always hammering in her chest, she feels like a trapped bird flitting inside her corset. She's always flustered when he goes under her skirts, her chest is about to collapse in on itself when she sees him flash a smile her way, carry her more silk and demurely apologize that the wrappings are dirty because of his hands, kiss her neck after copulation like it's the holiest place on earth...

And God Almighty, what would this man think of her if she confessed her love to him? He would probably laugh and think she’s a harlot who’s in desperate need of his cock, that she's indecent and impure…

Luckily, the brute is so stupid that he doesn’t see the way his little princess–as he now calls her–looks up at him when he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. She’s relatively sure he doesn’t notice the tiny gasps just before she comes, the helpless, adoring stares she shoots at him right after, because that glassy, worshipping stare of his own is only born of lust, that’s for sure.

He can’t see her figure flash in the window when he’s walking towards home, she’s made sure of that…

Or has she?

The man is dumb, but he’s not a total simpleton, even if his eternal sadness is slowly turning into a teasing, an even hungrier form of love. She fears he will simply devour her one of these days if he knew how deeply in love with him she is as well...

And she fears herself even more than she fears him. Didn’t the priest warn about exactly this kind of simple-minded, wanton lust in his last sermon? She was always taught that marriage is supposed to be about companionship and genial living together, not about sweaty, toe curling, mind numbing copulation.

They’re fornicating like animals in the little shack she has grown so fond of, shy to the changes he’s talking about every day since he struck some large gold vein. He openly fantasizes about getting them a large house, a small manor, even, and she knows it’s all just for her because this man is content with very little… So little, that he accepts any small crumb of affection she gives him like it’s an entire rain of manna from heaven.

And it’s only because she’s ashamed that she can’t show her true feelings for him. The gentlemen of the city now feel like fancy peacocks compared to this burly man who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty and his dick wet. Those men look delicate and boring and ridiculous next to the hairy giant who’s forearms she stares in the evenings like they’re her own personal cancan show.

It’s crazy, how she looks at him like he’s nothing but a piece of meat – are women even supposed to feel this way? She should say her prayers, because her foreign husband looks like a god while sharpening his ax by the fire, with slow, deliberate movements, the trembling hands finding a smooth, strong dance only when they’re wielding a pickaxe or a whetstone or a knife.

He catches her staring once, her frightful stare big and helpless in the flickering flames, and he gives her a sad, longing smile in return.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he gruffs softly. “Ich weiss… I know I should shave...”

Her head gives an involuntary shake, minimal and shy, because she doesn’t want him to shave. She adores that coarse stubble that leaves her skin red and irritated, she loves how he looks when he has so much going on in his life that he doesn’t have time to groom himself.

“No…?” He asks hesitantly, straightening a little on the chair that’s really only a piece of log. “You like it like this...?”

She nods. Shyly again, and just once, while her eyes drift on his lips.

It’s intimate, how the silence envelops them with both tension and grace. It’s all she can give right now, and he knows it, knows also that this whole exchange is basically a love confession. Her affection, her want, her dedication and surrender soar and swell all at once, and he can see it... All of it.

He rises, and abandons the ax, his softening stare never leaving hers. He walks to her like a gentleman, like he's Mr. Rochester himself, like she was Ms. Eyre – although she doesn’t want to be Jane Eyre and she doesn’t want him to be a dark, handsome gentleman. She wants him to be just as he is, the stranger from the North who works hard and loves even harder, who picks her up like she’s an angel and not a lady.

“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?”

His gaze is so soft, it’s starting to relax into some knowledge she has in her foolishness betrayed.

But it’s alright… Everything’s just as it should be.

She wraps her hands around his neck and whispers, “Yes,” and the smile that tugs at his lips finally melts into one of those I knew it smiles he sometimes wears when he brings her something nice from the town.

He doesn’t push her to reveal more information about how much she loves his stubble, but he does make her scream it out into the warm cottage air as he goes down between her legs. She doesn’t want to know what the local priest would say about this: a man making his mark on the insides of her thighs with that scraping beard, how he makes her core throb with his ever-hungry mouth. She doesn’t even care.

It’s a paradise and an inferno, where he’s sending her to, and who knew a brutish digger from some distant land could suddenly be so eloquent with his tongue? Who knew a man could do things like these to a woman...? Who knew married life could be like this?

“You liked that, didn’t you, princess,” he asks when he’s done with her, and holds her surprisingly gentle when she’s still shaking and squirming softly on the bed. Not God, not even the Devil, could cloud the full blown affection in her eyes. She’s in love – it’s not just lust, but love she feels for this man, and she feels like a fool for not recognizing she had gold in her hands all along.

“Yes,” she says, then smiles, then laughs, because it’s fairly obvious that she can’t speak those words even if she wanted to. He wrecked her so completely...

“I told you I’d make you happy, Sonnenschein.”

He smiles a little, looks down at her like she’s nothing but a baby who finally stopped her eternal crying.

“Oh I’m more than happy,” she says, this time tears clouding her vision, happy tears born from being free from years of imprisonment. He doesn’t strike her as the kind of man who cries, but there’s a faint glow in his eyes as well, a shimmer that both takes her in and pulls her under. This is something they don’t talk about in church... This is a thing they never write about in books.

She lays her hand on him, on the coarse cheek that is now slightly wet from a single tear.

“You’re crying,” she whispers, because her voice wouldn’t carry the weight of her words at this point.

“Ja…? Well... I’m happy too,” he explains, with a shortness of breath and a confusion to his voice.

He blinks the rest of it away, but the sweet moment stays, lingers on until she draws him into a kiss – another thing they never talk about in novels, a woman kissing a man – and she tastes both him and her on his lips, how well he loved her, and when he moans slightly from her reciprocating that love, she holds him closer, closer, closer… Until he shivers too.

[sorcerous-caress]

So fun fact about me irl I work with children but often my teacher language slips out like telling my friends to say “bye bye bus”, telling another person in my lecture writing to “be nice to the pencil, it’s your friend.” And greeting a roomful of grown as adults with good morning boys and girls. It’s mortifying but How do you think the companions would react to having a teacher!tav slip up like that.

Dealing with a Teacher Tav

[Bg3, fluff, platonic kinda, nb!reader]

[Gale, Shadowheart, Laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc]

Gale

He delightfully plays along whenever you tell him to thank a stranger or say goodbye to an inanimate object. He thinks it's very silly and joyous.

Teachers have always been a big part of his life, it doesn't phase him in the slightest when you unawarly awake the deep memories of being in wizards pre-school for him.

Says good morning to you back, adding a teacher honorific at the end for the sake of being playful while asking if you've finally graded the homework he handed in.

He gives you an apple occasionally. He thinks he is very hilarious.

Shadowheart

She freezes in awkwardness whenever it happens, not sure if you’re being serious or just playing around. Sometimes, you don't even register slipping up as go on with your day, leaving her wondering if she's imagining things.

She has zero experience with the school system, completely confused by the need to say thank you for carriage after it arrived. It's just a carriage, why should she?

One time while her and Laezel were arguing, you used the same call you'd use in the classroom to get the kids to quiet down and it completely caught them both off guard. They just stood there baffled, forgetting their original argument.

Laezel

Why, yes, she is very familiar with teachers. In fact, she was the best out of her class, ask any githyanki teacher, and they'd tell you endless praise about her throat cutting techniques and sword welding stances.

You, whoever, use very unusual teaching techniques. How would learning a song about washing your hand and brushing your teeth help her in slaying her enemies?

Intriguing, so you take advantage of the brain's tendency to latch on to phrases that rhyme, which makes them easier to remember? And you encode your melodies with instructions to embed them into the impressionable youth?

Huh. She actually is impressed. She made her decision, you will lend your teaching skills to help her embed the most effect way of fracturing someone's spine into a melody to spread to the githyanki children.

Wyll

As someone who has been an unofficial teacher for so many kids throughout his years, he can relate to your struggle a lot. He slips up more than he cares to admit.

The both of you meeting early in the morning while still groggy and tired, your brains working on automatic mods as you greet each other with the same high pitched enthusiastic voice you use to greet a toddler.

Then just stare at each other, complete understanding between the two of you. Like two people accidentally using their customer service voice in front of the other.

You struggle to tie your boots once, and he unconsciously bends down to tie them for you while using the rabbit loop euphemism, only to stop in his tracks as he realises what he's doing.

He uses a curse word once, and you immediately use your teachers voice and say, "we don't speak like that here, that's wasn't very nice."

You're both tired, you both need a nap and neither of you brings it up when the other slips.

Karlach

Much like Gale, she finds it extremely amusing. Top tier comedy to her. Unlike Gale, she hasn't been to any proper schooling system, so she doesn't exactly know what most of these phrases mean or imply.

In a way, it lets her pretend she was a part of something like a school in her youth, like she could've had a normal childhood like everyone else.

She'd indulge you, saying goodbye and thank you to the pigeon that delivered her a letter, or overhearing Wyll's rabbit loop ryhme and whispering it under her breath as she ties her own boots. Who knew this could've been so easy?

Astarion

You remind him of how Leon was with his daughter back in Cazador's manor. Astarion never was close with any of them, but still, he sometimes overheard him attempting to give his daughter a semblance of a normal childhood and growth.

It's endearing when you accidentally use your teaching ways while dealing with the owlbear cub, but he'll never admit it.

Doesn't indulge you with it, he has appearance to keep. Well, unless he has a chance to twist your innocent meaning words into a sex or gorey joke like the 12y old humour that he has.

Ah, the scrowl on your face is the exact same one Leon had around him, such fond memories.

Halsin

Ah, you bring him back to his old days of having to deal with the children at the grove. Although his methods focused more on showing them that nature is a friend rather than inanimate objects.

But who is he to judge your ways? If anything he could learn a thing or two from you to add to his skillset.

Tells you about the fables that were passed down from elf to elf throughout the generations, animal stories have always done a great part in teaching him morality.

Do you happen to have any? Maybe you could tell it to the children of the grove, they are good kids.

Minthara

As a noble, she was only given the best and most prestigious of teachers while growing up. Even the ones that weren't a drow would still be considered the best of the best, crème de la crème.

Yet not a single one of them applied such...childish methods. etiquette and discipline were taught by the lash and threat of punishment, not lullabies and gentle guidance.

....it's not as bad as she imagined.

She doesn't get why some of your companions find it amusing. She doesn't bother indulging either.

But sometimes, sometimes, when it's just the two of you, and she is sure not a single soul is around, she will reply with a pun with the most deadpan face expression you've seen.

Jaheira

Despite what most would think, she actually integrated the same methods into her teachings back when her kids were little, it just happened to be weaved with her more dangerous lifestyle ascept.

Here comes the plane, with the airplane usual holding a good dosage amount of poison to build resistance.

A short rhyme about what to check before leaving the house, except the list has a suspicious amount of daggers and trap disarm kits in it.

If it works, it works, so what if she had to alter a kid's book about a honey loving yellow bear into one with decipherable texts to teach them Harpers' secret communication language.

Minsc

Ah! Boo does use the same method on him sometimes, the two of you have a lot in common. Although Boo's methods do involve a bit of biting every now and then.

Say, how about he teaches you some fables from Rashemen, a lot of them are about a rabbit who got lost after not listening to his witch frog companion.

You could use it in your teachings later! Show the youth the importance of good teamwork. Yes, he is aware of the fact he didn't listen to Jaheira and got captured by the cult. No, he doesn't see why this is relevant? Why is Boo suddenly agreeing with you? He is supposed to be on his side.

[asexualenjolras]

I've finished watching season two, and I have some thoughts I needed to just get out. Neil Gaiman is a very talented writer, and the way he writes the Ineffable Husbands' relationship is so authentic and beautiful.

Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship is so much more complex than having them end up happy so soon after Crowley admitted his feelings for his angel. They've spent 6,000 years, as Nina and Maggie put it, not talking to one another about how they feel. It isn't unimaginable that Aziraphale would struggle with his feelings when Crowley finally admits how he feels.

Of the two of them, Crowley is more settled in his freedom. He has no ties to Hell, or Heaven, or Earth. He knows that he would be happy living away from all of that with Aziraphale. It's what he's wanted for a while, and he's content with the idea. We've now seen him ask Aziraphale to run away with him twice (once in season one, and once in season two). He's perfectly happy with that idea. And him telling Aziraphale that at the end of season two was such character development compared to him just screaming at his angel in the first season.

Overall, Crowley knows he loves Aziraphale more than Earth, or Hell, or Heaven and Maggie and Nina help him reach that conclusion by the end of the season. Nothing matters more to Crowley than Aziraphale. And we have seen him threaten to throw everything away for him twice now. He wants Aziraphale and Crowley is contented with the idea of it being the two of them for the rest of time.

However, Aziraphale has never wanted solitude. He's never once said that that's something he wants. Aziraphale's wants and needs are in constant battle with one another, and what he wants is ... to be good. His morals are objective, and he is burdened by his constant need to be good and to be fair - even if it means being unfair to himself. He's prone to self-sabotage. And he will forever put other people and beings before himself.

Aziraphale, like Crowley, knows that he is bound to Crowley for eternity. They are soulmates. 6,000 years of finding one another is evidence of that. But Aziraphale's trauma is so deep-rooted. It is engrained in him that he needs to be good. He believes it's integral to his being. He's spent 6,000 years doing his absolute best to impress Heaven and God, and his morals aren't going to change just because Crowley admits his feelings for him. He is, at the heart and soul, good. And he can't move past his morals and put himself first because that would be ... out of character. He's conflicted. But the one thing he is is ... good.

Aziraphale wanted Crowley with him just as much as Crowley wanted him. But he just wanted to try and balance Heaven and Crowley. He wanted Crowley to be an angel with him, and be happy and work together as they always had. He didn't want anything to change (he's so autistic). When Crowley told him that he didn't want to stay in Heaven, Aziraphale was confused and hurt. You could see it in his face.

And, integrally, he could have demanded that Crowley come with him, he could have been selfish for the first time in his life, but he wasn't ... and he couldn't ever be. He let Crowley go. Because he thought that was what was best for him. He put Crowley first and pushed his own wants and needs aside. Crowley told him he didn't want to go, so he let him walk out.

Importantly, we see him doubt. He stops for a split second and considers going with Crowley when he sees that Crowley has waited for him on the other side of the road (Crowley didn't go ... too fast this time, he stayed put and didn't run away - he waited for Aziraphale - but don't get me started because I will cry).

Overall, just as we've seen Crowley's want to run away with Aziraphale before, we've seen Aziraphale turn down that offer in place of doing the right thing (or, what Aziraphale feels is the right thing). This isn't new. And they will get through it. They just have a bad time communicating with one another.

One thing is certain, though: they are soulmates. And they will find their way to one another again. They have done for the past 6,000 years. It's ineffable. They are ineffable.

Neil's a genius. And the mirroring between their relationship in the two seasons is so well-written, and complex and I have so much admiration for it.

Anyways, that's all I can muster in thought. I'm off to cry because angst makes me sob. And I'm heartbroken. I'm so hopeful for a season three. I need to see this angel and ... Crowley again.

[pricegouge]

I got thinking of all the other fun ways you could sensually burn someone that doesn't involve the possibility of giving your partner a third degree burn, so here's John refusing to put his cigar out on you.

John Price x gn!reader. Could be a soldier or a civilian, doesn't really matter

cw for drinking. burning, obviously. including 'light' branding. mouth as ashtray. unsafe + under negotiated kink practices. use of 'sir'. spit kink (why am I writing this so much lately?) brief mentions of sex, but nothing explicit here. mostly just weird ass fun. super abrupt ending/no aftercare because i had chores to do and wanted to wrap this up. not edited either, sorry. 

The first time you'd asked, John had looked considerate for all of two seconds before hitting you with the 'not tonight, love,' and distracting any follow up requests you might have had by fucking you so good and deep you were fairly certain you'd been bruised with the shape of him. He never brings it up again, so you do, weeks later, when he has you on your knees between his own, head tilted onto his thick thigh while he simply enjoys the taste of his cigar. He doesn't even bother touching you, one hand cradling a glass of scotch on the arm of his chair, the other rotating the smoking object of your attention.

"I want to try something," you mumble, voice low. Embarrassed. You hate asking for things twice, afraid to seem needy. But John had never given you a reason as to why he wouldn't do it last time, so you bite back your shame and hide yourself away amongst the folds of his thick cargos when he looks down at you. They've been softened over the years by wear and sweat, the weave buffed so thin it pills in the places his holster would rub against it. You rub your lips over them. Distracting yourself, maybe. Desperate for his softness, more like. Still, that's not what you ask for when he prompts you to continue. 

"Want you to put that out on me."

You don't bother clarifying what you're referring to. John knows. 

He places it in the ashtray now, leaning forward to run his hand over your scalp, calluses catching. There's still some smoke stuck between his teeth. It spills out across your face when he speaks, cedar and tea. "Not sure that's a good idea, pet."

You want to tell him of course it isn't, that you want his indifference. To bear the brunt of his recklessness. But John has always kept that side of himself carefully sequestered away from you, and admitting what you want in this case will only draw it further away. So when he looks down at you, eyes kind but confused, you can only whisper a soft, "Please."

John sighs, chest swelling and falling as he slumps back into his seat. He's not unsympathetic as his thick knuckles brush your temple, stroke the crest of your ear. "We can find something else for you," he hedges.

"But I want -."

"Is it the cigar itself? The smoking?" He sounds doubtful, knows the only time you smoke is when he breathes it into your lungs himself. Knows you don't plan on changing that any time soon.

But he's wrong because it is the cigar, and the smoking, and it's John most importantly. His scent, the authority he carries so effortlessly, so intricately tied to the hyper macho habit that shouldn't work but does because he can't help being himself. You don't know how to articulate that though, let alone explain why you want it seared into your flesh. Instead, you simply say, "Yes."

"Right," John grunts. "I thought about it, after you asked." He pulls a face, distasteful, continues, "Don't relish the idea of giving you such a nasty scar, pet."

"I'd take care of it," you gripe, pouty. John gives you a look that dares you to interrupt him again.

"I know you would. Always do such a good job taking care of me," he winks. "But there are tars and such in cigars that hinder the healing. Not to mention the ash that winds up in the wound," he grimaces.

For a moment, you allow yourself to fantasize; imagine that the oils would be trapped in your skin forever, that the burn would be left smelling earthy and dense instead of barbeque and antiseptic. But you know he's right, and acquiesce with a nod.

Thoughtful, John's hand leaves your face to take another drag. "C'mere," smoke leaks from his lips like a faucet as he says it and you know he'll offer you a drink in consolation for the request he's denied you. You're not disappointed when he guides you closer to him with a heavy palm on the nape of your neck, the warm butt of the cigar just slightly damp where it presses into your skin there. You take John's offering happily enough, take his cock even more enthusiastically after that.

No, the disappointment doesn't set in until the weeks that follow come and go, and the only indication you receive that John's even thought about your request comes in the form of a box of strike anywhere matches on his office desk one morning, a bic the next.

***

He waits until he returns from leave, ensuring you've been good in his absence before giving you your reward.

"Kneel, pet." He nods at the pillow set to the right of his office sofa, minimal and threadbare, cozy enough to pad your achy joints just fine. He uses it to soften his desk chair when you're not using it, you know. He would never make you use something he hadn't properly vetted first, after all.

You pout, having expected to be sat on his lap for your reward like you always are, but John just tuts, eyes warm.

"You'll like it, I promise."

He waits until you've settled to start setting up. He brings a decanter of scotch over with two glasses, pours you both one. He places his own on the side board and yours upon the coffee table. You don't reach for it, too busy watching his movements. Choosing a cigar is a long, drawn out affair involving much sniffing. Occasionally, he'll offer one to you to sample, taking into consideration whether the leathery notes make you crinkle your nose, or if the floral scents make you tilt in consideration. Whatever he settles on, he does not offer you a chance to veto.

You expect him to sit down after that, but he pats his pockets down theatrically, moving to his desk one last time when he finds them empty of whatever it is he's looking for. You don't bother hiding your interest as he shuffles through his drawers, but before you can catch a glimpse of whatever he's after, he turns his mischievous eyes on you.

"Eyes forward. Keep your mouth open and your teeth bared."

A gag? Some reward. It's a struggle not to roll your eyes, but you know John hates a brat, and you don't want to ruin whatever fun he's got planned for you tonight, so you do as you're told, staring up at the collection of framed medals hanging above the couch while he rumages about for a moment longer. When he comes into your peripheral, you hear him carefully lining some objects along the coffee table, but you don't dare look.

John notices, humming appreciatively as he finally takes a seat at the end of the sofa. "Being so good for me already, pet." His knuckles are heavy and rough where he strokes your temple, down to your jaw. You watch his eyes, note the way they cloud darker as his fingertips find your teeth. Along your bottom incisors, up to push against a canine. He calls you a good pet when the pads of his fingers stick to your dry enamel, and you cock your head in confusion. 

Smiling, John pinches your front teeth between thumb and forefinger, rubbing back and forth as is memorizing all the dips and edges. A small sound escapes your throat, unsure if you should be worried he's going to try pulling one. But John's eyes are far from cruel when his fingers abandon your teeth in favor of bringing his free hand to your face. You feel something coarse brush your bottom lip briefly, and then gasp and reel back in surprise when a soft pop is the only warning you get before a match ignites in your face.

John pays you no mind, twirling the end of his cigar over the match while you struggle to figure out why you taste sulfur. Your fingers find your teeth as if checking they are still there, relief flooding into understanding as you feel a foreign, chalky powder on the tip of your dry tongue. He'd struck the match off your teeth, the cocky bastard.

When the match goes out, John's cigar is only half lit. Reaching for another match, he tuts at you until you get your hands out of his way, offer up your fucking teeth for his use again. This time, you're expecting the strike and you don't flinch away when it ignites, heat spilling across your cheeks while he lets it burn for a moment just inches away. 

This time, when he lights his cigar, he puffs on it like one would light a cigarette, thick clouds of smoke building around him. "Close your mouth, pet. Get it nice and wet," he mumbles between deep drags.

It would be embarrassing, the speed at which you obey, if not for how sure you are that you will like your reward. Sure enough, by the time John's cigar is lit, the match has burnt down to his fingers, and he leans over you expectantly, spitting on your tongue when you open your mouth for his inspection. His eyes lock on your when he lowers the burning match stick to your tongue, but if he expected to find protest, he doesn't get any. 

The match tastes like ash, but it doesn't feel like anything as it sizzles against the wad of spit on your tongue.

"Good?" John asks as he tosses the used match to the side. It's perhaps a bit late, but appreciated all the same. You nod, emphatic, and John smiles down at you, perhaps a touch regretfully. Still, he's calm and confident when he pries your mouth open again, dangling another thick line of spit into your mouth. Honestly, it tastes worse than the match did, tar-soaked and heavy with nicotine.

That doesn't stop you from vibrating in excitement when he holds his cigar over your mouth carefully. There's a moment of intense eye contact, John trying to ascertain for certain that you can handle this. You don't dare move your mouth, but you pour every ounce of acceptance and eagerness into your gaze. John accepts with a soft huff through his nose. "Your reward," he informs you, tapping the shaft of his cigar heavily.

The shower of ash is minimal, but enough to make you flinch when one tiny fleck lands on your sensitive lips. John notices, holds his cigar off to the side in favor of leaning close and licking across your mouth. You meet him for as long as he allows, reveling in the oaky taste that coats his tongue. 

When he sits back, he's donned that serious expression he adopts whenever he's indulging you. You want to ask if he's sure he's good, but the words stick in your throat - congealed. John rolls up his left sleeve, displaying a series of four pink, inflamed marks on the inside of his forearm for your inspection. Ranging from the size of a pencil eraser up to half dollar, the smallest of the marks look the angriest: red and nobby in some places, they look like they will heel badly; whereas the largest of the lot looks hardly noticeable, a flat dark spot at worst. 

John takes another deep drag from his cigar, lets the rich smoke fall across your face as he talks through his exhale. "Are there any of these you don't think you can handle?"

You shake your head excitedly and John brushes his free hand over your throat, calming. Grounding. "'Course you can handle them, eh? Always so good for me." He squeezes your throat once, just because he knows you'll follow as he pulls away. You do, and he spreads his knees wider to accommodate you. 

"It's important you remember this is a reward, yeah? So you don't need to push yourself, or anything like that. If at any point you want to stop, you just need to say. Got ice packs in the freezer for you already," John nods at the minifridge in the corner. 

When he asks if you understand, you just nod, correcting yourself when he gives you an expectant look. "Yes, sir."

"Good pet. If you sit well for me - that means no flinching, no crying, and no whining if I take too long, you'll be rewarded after each one," he flicks his cigar illustratively, sending a small storm of ash falling into the tray on the table next to you. "Now, we're going to start with this one," John points at the second largest mark on his arm, a dense patch of three distinct burns no more than a half inch across. "This one shouldn't scar, but it is fairly recognizable if one knew what they were looking for. Where do you want this one?"

He's not wrong about it being recognizable. It takes you a minute but you remember being a pesky teen, pushing the tops of heated bic lighters against the faux leather of school bus seats, the distinctive pattern in which they'd melt. You know what it'll look like, to be spotted sporting something like that. 

"My thigh," you declare without really thinking, but you grow more confident when you think of the tender flesh, the way the relatively minor mark will feel there as compared to the angrier ones.

"Pants off then, pet."

You scramble to obey while John flicks the lighter. He tilts it so the open flame coats the metal, keeping his thumb safe on the butane pedal. He's still heating it when you come to stand between his knees. Distractedly, he asks where you'd like it, and then peers up at you from under dense brows when you point to a spot high on your thigh.

"Alright, sweetheart." John lets the lighter gutter out, then blows on it a moment. He presses it lightly against the pad of his other hand, testing. He doesn't even flinch, and part of you wants to tell him not to take it easy on you. But then he's asking if you're ready, and you're nodding, biting back a squeal as the hot metal is pressed into the meat of your thigh.

You don't flinch, but it's hard fought. It's more shocking than painful, but easy enough to ease into when John's right there, solid and warm. He coos at you, soft words you barely bother to discern. You lean against him because he didn't say you couldn't, and the movement presses the lighter into you more. It's cooling, technically, though it still feels hot as sin against the sensitive flesh.

John waits until your breaths come in huffs to relent, still murmuring sweetly. He tells you how good you are, how pretty you're gonna look covered in his marks. 

"I hope they scare," you admit, stupidly. John doesn't respond, but his eyes are intense when he guides you back down to your knees.

"Get your mouth good and wet, pet. Open when you're ready."

You watch him puff away at his cigar while you work to coat your mouth in saliva. You can tell he knows he looks good by the way he settles into the couch, legs spread like a whore. You want to be in his lap for this, consider asking for it before your next reward. For now, you settle for opening your mouth, preening when he inspects your tongue and finds it properly coated. 

"Ready?" he asks, and you nod, opening wider in excitement just to drink down the burnt taste when he drops it into your mouth, whining at the dissatisfaction of having no real substance to swallow around. 

"Fuck," John groans, "you love this, don't you, pet?"

You nod, hands coming up to his thighs. You walk yourself closer, unsure what you want but knowing you need to be closer. 

He obliges, tucking his cigar between his teeth so he can cup your face with both hands. "So good for me. Knew you'd like it." He grabs one of your wrists, mustache tickling the sensitive skin there as he licks a hot stripe over you. "Ready?" he asks, and you barely have time to register what he means before he's dropping more ash onto you.

There's not enough spit - not enough time has passed for ash to properly build up. You can't help the yelp you emit when a tiny ember smolders against your flesh. John shushes you, the little thing having already burned itself out. "You're okay," he says, and you are - just a pin prick pink mark left. "You need a minute?"

You take a moment to consider, but shake your head. 

"Use your words, pet," he warns.

"I'm ready to continue."

He hums. "Good job." Turning his forearm so you can see the marks there again, John points to the second smallest. Taller than the last, but thinner, the skin here looks blistered and angry, but the shape is indiscernible to you - just a thin, ovular line. 

"This next. Might scar, but pretty unidentifiable. Where we putting this one?"

Holding out the palm of your non-dominant hand, you point at the pad of your palm, wanting something highly visible and fleshy. 

"You sure," he asks, already reaching across you to pick something up off the coffee table. For the first time it occurs to you that you can look, and you go to follow his movements but John stops you with a hand on your jaw. "Eyes on me," he growls. It's the closest thing you've had to a real order all evening.

It's a zippo lighter this time, the click of it low and satisfying as he lights it. You don't have anything to occupy yourself with this time, so you're forced to sit patiently while he heats the lip of the cage around the flame. When he'd said earlier that you wouldn't get your reward if you were too impatient, you hadn't thought much of it. But now, twiddling your thumbs as you watch him concentrate, counting silently to a set number you do not know, the whine you promised not to make builds silently in your throat. 

You can tell by the set of his mouth that he doesn't stop counting, but his eyes find yours, challenging. You settle yourself more firmly on your cushion, determined.

The zippo is less pleasant. You groan when the thin, hot knife of it presses into your skin, but you don't look away from John, and you certainly don't flinch. He doesn't hold it in place as long this time, throwing it back onto the table behind you after only a few seconds as he presses kisses against your palm. 

"Sorry, sweetheart," he says as he eventually pulls away. "We can be done."

"No!" you cry, pain in your palm already forgotten. "No, sir, please, wanna finish."

"Next one's going to hurt worse," he warns, but you shake your head. 

"I don't mind. This one wasn't even that bad, it just -. It was different. Surprised me."

He frowns down at you suspiciously, but you're not lying and you let him look. John nods his acceptance after a moment, perhaps a bit too relieved. "You want your reward still, pet?"

"Yes," you enthuse, "only -." John cocks his head expectantly and you bite your lip. "Can I sit in your lap this time?"

"Oh, sweetheart," he grins, "of course." It takes him a moment to re-settle everything, bringing his supplies up to the side table which he turns you away from. But then you're comfortably tucked against his chest, mouth open expectantly for the reward which shouldn't be a reward, but very much is. Especially when he holds you tight after, licks into your mouth to share the dry remnants. 

"This next one's the worst one. Do you want to skip it? The last one is the easiest."

You hesitate. "Can I ask what it is?"

"You may ask what the next one is, but not the last one."

"What's the next one?"

John reaches behind you, produces a singular match. "This one smarts, I won't lie. And it will definitely scar."

Part of you wants to rise to the challenge - wants to prove to him you can weather anything he can. You're about to accept it when he reminds you, voice low, "This is supposed to be a reward, pet."

You deflate before you even realize you'd gotten all worked up. "Can we skip it?"

"Of course we can, sweetheart. Thank you for asking." He presses whiskery kisses to your temple, keeps his lips pressed there when he asks if you still want to do the last one.

"That's the big, pink mark, eh?" you hold his forearm up for your inspection, studying the only remaining mark it could be.

"Yes," he confirms.

"And you said it didn't hurt?"

"Barely even felt it."

You know you can be done, that John will fuck you just as well tonight as he always does on his first night back after a mission. You can say you've had enough, probably even ask for one last reward because you'd done so well explaining what you wanted.

But it would be a lie, if you did, because you know John's saved the best for last, and you do want it.

When you tell him as much, John grins happily and kisses you deeply. 

"This one won't hurt. Won't scar, either, but it'll be pretty obvious what's done it to the boys around base while it heals."

You know what he means when you hear the jangle of his dog tags behind you. "Here," you breathe, pointing to your chest before he can even ask where you want it.

"You sure, pet? The boys'll know what it was if -."

"Don't care," you insist, already taking your top off. You point to the flat of your sternum, drum your fingers there excitedly. "Here, please, sir."

"Alright," he chuckles, placing his cigar back in the ashtray. "Give me a minute."

As it turns out, you do have to give him a full minute while he heats the metal over the open flame of the zippo. You nearly break your promise to yourself not to whine, especially when your eager rocking has you pressing up against his hard cock. John only spares you a dark look when you discover his state, rocking his hips up only once - and there more as a threat to dislodge you than to actually provide either of you friction. 

But then he's deemed the tag hot enough, and he's urging you to lay back over the arm of the sofa. He doesn't ask if you're ready this time, simply presses the metal against you with his own bare palm. You writhe under him, jittery and unmoored. He doesn't help when he takes a nipple into his mouth, breaths heavy and hot against your skin.

John doesn't pull the tag away until it's gone skin-warm, heat transferred to both of you fairly quickly. He brushes his whiskers over the inflamed skin after, just to watch you twitch and hiss, and then presses one last kiss there before sitting up. 

"One last reward, pet?" 

You nod, sliding to your knees between his unthinkingly. He doesn't ask why, just guides your head back by the grip he gets on the cradle of your skull. You know the drill by now, but you open your mouth far too soon, groan happily when he tuts and coats your mouth with his own spit. 

"Should withhold this just for that," he growls, but he's far too eager when he pulls deeply from his cigar, inspects the end to be sure there's adequate ash. "Ready?" he asks, and you simply stick your tongue out further in answer.

Sequel >>

[theostrophywife]

here in your arms.

author's note: couldn't resist writing for my little foxy boy. this is the twin to this request.

eris preferred to sleep alone.

at least, he used to. when it came to his bedchambers, the autumn court heir abided by one simple rule: he could invite whomever he pleased to bed, but they were not to overstay their welcome by any means. it was a good rule and one that he had upheld for centuries. until you came along.

eris wasn’t even sure how it happened. the most likely scenario was that the two of you had stumbled into his bed after a night of drinking and debauchery, taunting and teasing one another as you were wont to do. you were the one person at court whose sarcasm rivaled his own. ever since you where children, you had kept eris on his toes with your sharp wit and fiery personality. you challenged him and though he'd never admit it, the future high lord was absolutely soft for you.

perhaps that was why he hadn’t objected when you had fallen asleep on his bed, blankets greedily wrapped around you while you cuddled with his favorite pillow. you looked so serene laying there, still dressed in your ridiculous ball gown with your hair loose and unbound, fanning around you like a waterfall and framing that beautiful face eris had come to memorize.

he had simply crawled in beside you, his eyes heavy from the alcohol and his thoughts flowing like honey. the last thing he remembered was your hand reaching for his, weaving your fingers together.

the autumn court heir convinced himself that it would only be that one exception, but then he laid in bed the next night, tossing and turning. unable to sleep without the warmth of your body next to his or the soft breaths that lulled him into sweet dreams or the way that you reached for him even when you were unconscious.

he thought he could will it away. eris had survived centuries sleeping alone, so there was no reason for him to suddenly crave a bedside companion. he didn't need anyone to cuddle with. night after night, that's what he told himself. until two days passed, then three. finally after an entire week of fitful sleep, eris admitted the plain, ugly truth to himself.

you had utterly and completely ruined the male.

so he pushed aside all of his pride and walked to the other end of the forest house where your bedchambers were located. you had opened the door to find the rumpled, weary redhead glaring at you with accusation.

"what have you done to me, woman?"

you yawned, pulling your robe on tightly. "i have various schemes and plots against you at the moment, so you'll have to be more specific than that, pumpkin."

eris sighed exasperatedly and marched right into your suite. you shut the door behind him, watching with an amused smile as your friend paced in front of the hearth. "yes, eris why don't you come on in. it's not like you were interrupting my sleep or anything. of course, midnight is a perfectly reasonable time to drop in unannounced."

the eldest vanserra rolled his eyes. "i can't sleep!" he whirled around, folding his arms in a regal, yet disdainful way. "and it's your fault. it's been an entire week and i cannot take it any longer."

"and how, pray tell, is your sudden bout of insomnia my doing?"

"because," eris stated matter-of-factly, "ever since that night that you fell asleep in my bed, i haven't been able to get your damned lily soap scent out of my sheets. my room is too quiet without your obnoxious little snores and my legs are perpetually warm without you pressing those frozen icicles you call feet against them."

"let me get this straight," you said with a snort. "you marched all the way across the forest house, just to insult my soap, my snoring, and my cold feet."

"as future high lord, i am allowed to voice my displeasure with court subjects."

"as your loyal subject, i am also allowed to tell you to kindly fuck off."

eris bit back a smile. "i'm being serious, y/n. i cannot lose any more of my beauty sleep. it is absolutely maddening."

you rolled your eyes. "then stop being an insufferable twat and sleep with me."

the redhaired male opened his mouth for another snarky retort, but you merely tugged him towards the bed. you peeled back the covers and gestured for eris to make himself comfortable. he did so, albeit looking a bit peaked as you slipped in beside him.

“oh, you look positively virginal eris.” you said with a chuckle. “fret not pumpkin, i have no plans on ravishing you. now come cuddle before i come to my senses and send your sorry arse back.”

eris scrunched his nose in feigned annoyance. “you’re such a bossy little fox. you are aware that you’re speaking to the heir of the autumn court with such insolence, aren’t you?”

you tugged him to you, pinching his cheek as he laid against your chest. “i wouldn’t have to resort to insults if the big, bad future high lord had the balls to simply ask for what he wanted.”

“and what do i want?” eris asked, shifting to face you as you ran your fingers through his luscious hair.

“to be babied,” you declared. “admit it, pumpkin. you just want someone to play with your hair and cuddle you at night and give you all the kisses.”

“you’re wrong,” eris declared, his lids fluttering shut as you snuggled against him. “i don’t want just someone. i want you, little fox.”

you smiled. “well, i’m already playing with your hair and cuddling you so all that’s left is —“

eris took your face in his hands and pulled you down to him. his lips were velvet against yours, playful and teasing just like the male you were kissing. butterflies erupted in your stomach as eris clutched you closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he deepened the kiss, filling you with the taste of freshly picked apples and rich cinnamon with a hint of mint toothpaste. eris pulled away reluctantly, pressing his forehead against yours.

amber eyes full of heat pierced through you as you smirked. “it took you damn well long enough.”

eris rolled his eyes fondly before pulling you against his chest. “you absolute menace,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “you’ve finally pierced my wretched heart. it feels as horrifying as i imagined.”

you buried your face against his neck, smiling against his skin. “good night, you insufferable drama queen.”

[sourpatchys]

Daryl Dixon Headcannons

Sfw❤️ nsfw❤️‍🔥

The NSFW content is targeted towards an AFAB reader (like myself) however, I’d be happy to do an AMAB version if anyone is interested!

❤️.

Daryl is always watching you. The guys favorite hobby is just being able to see you in his field of vision.

He definitely doesn’t show public displays of affection, PDA is not something he’s comfortable with, and if you were to kiss him in front of a bunch of people he might even get a little upset, simply because he doesn’t want to share that part of himself with anyone but you.

However! He doesn’t hold back when it comes to hand holding. This guy loves feeling your touch and being able to physically hold you in a way that tells him you’re safe.

Usually he just wraps his pinky around yours, if he does full on hold your hand it’s almost always accompanied by two squeezes that mean “I love you”.

That’s usually how he tells you he loves you, he’s not super emotionally available, two squeezes is all it takes. On your arm, your leg, hand, even the top of your head on a few occasions.

He did NOT ask you to be his. Absolutely not. You just kinda were one day.

Back at the prison when he and Merle had come back, Merle made a pass at you and Daryl told him to leave “his girl alone”.

You didn’t object, and that’s how it became official.

That’s not to say Daryl can’t be romantic. He definitely can be when he wants to.

He’s constantly leaving you flowers he finds that remind him of you, and sometimes he even scribbles down a note telling you why.

You always have to be comfortable. If it were up to him you’d live on a cloud.

When you two are alone he finds himself mindlessly running his fingers through your hair, it always calms him down.

And yes, he secretly loves it when you do it back.

It’s actually not secret at all.

You two will argue. He’s a gruff guy and you can be stubborn.

He has a hard time apologizing to you, he hates that he even has to. It can take days before you guys are on speaking terms again.

If you’re the one who has to apologize, you’re pretty quick with it once you can tell he’s ready for it. He’s not a super forgiving guy, but when it comes to you, he always hears you out once it’s over and done with.

Contrary to popular belief he won’t ever stop you from doing something you want to do. Even if it is dangerous.

He trusts you more than life itself. And if you think you can do it, he’s going to be your biggest supporter— but that’s not to say he won’t try to go with you.

He is a jealous guy though. He has a hard time believing he deserves you sometimes, so if someone looks at you wrong or gets too close, he’s quick to shut that shit down.

Negative thoughts are usually what causes the most issues between the two of you. He tries to run away from you a lot, and you refuse to let him.

He was never big on writing much of anything until you two got a little more serious. He had all these thoughts and feelings but he was afraid to tell you out loud, so he started writing little bits and pieces and leaving them in your stuff for you to find.

You love how scrawly his handwriting is.

It took you a good few minutes to even be able to read it the first few times, but eventually it came to you like second nature.

Sometimes you leave notes for him too, you know how private he is, so notes are the best way for you to tell him you love him.

He keeps the first note you ever wrote him on his person at all times. Seeing the words “I love you” written down in your handwriting never fails to keep him going, especially when he has to be apart from you.

Daryl Dixon is a bed hog.

Once he got comfortable sleeping with you, he started sprawling out like a starfish.

He refuses to admit it. He actually tried to convince you that you were the bed hog instead.

You learned to love it after a while.

❤️‍🔥.

Sex was not something that came naturally to Daryl. As crazy as he was before the world fell apart, he was never actually sober for any of his flings, one night stands or short term relationships.

He basically learned everything from scratch with you.

He NEVER initiated sex. Maybe he’d touch your arm or grab your thigh in a suggestive way to try and get the ball rolling, but he absolutely refused to do anything if you didn’t catch the hint.

Daryl, is in fact, a boob and thigh man. Regardless of how big or small your breast and thighs are, he can’t stop himself from staring.

When you ride him it’s like his brain turns to mush. He completely forgets how to act.

When you’d suggested it he almost dismissed you, no WAY was he going to enjoy being pinned down like that.

But oh boy did he.

Sometimes, when the two of you were alone, he felt like a teenager again. It kinda pissed him off how wrapped around your finger he actually was. He’d never felt this, undying attraction towards anyone before.

He’s not vocal during sex at all, maybe some grunts here and there— he finds the noises embarrassing.

If you’re making a lot of noise he also gets embarrassed from that.

“Shut the hell up, woman!”

Recently he’s just started putting his hand over your mouth instinctively.

You do in fact make the noises just to have a laugh, you think it’s adorable when he’s embarrassed, and you don’t get to see it very often.

He absolutely loves going down on you, the feeling of your thighs around his head and the sight of your breasts going up and down with each breath you take really gets him going.

Obviously running around during an apocalypse doesn’t exactly leave much room for deodorant and regular showers.

He’s very embarrassed about it— and will NEVER admit it out loud— but he’s really attracted to your natural scent.

So the lack of personal hygiene will never make him stop wanting you. If anything it makes him want you more.

That’s not to say seeing you cleaned up isn’t a turn on though. That first night in Alexandria when you got all cleaned and dressed up borderline has him in his knees.

He’s a gentle lover— unless you ask him not to be.

He’s aware that he’s a pretty strong guy, and he knows his limits. But if you’re into being pounded like no tomorrow— he won’t turn you down.

It might take awhile for him to get used to the idea, but seeing how absolutely crazy you get takes all his concern out of the window.

He does NOT have a daddy kink.

If you have past experiences he wants to hear about them.

Because of how jealous he is, he needs to know how you were treated before so he can make sure he doesn’t better.

His goal in life is to keep you alive— and make sure you never want another man ever again.

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

can you prettyyyy please write a little piece abt best friends older brother choso n sucking him off n fucking him till ur both overstimulated :(( 💔💔

Oh boy can I, sucking him off and overstimulation are one of my two favorite things ♡

Sucking and fucking your best friends older brother until you're both overstimulated. NSFW. gn!reader.

A/N: I kinda went ham and its...long.

You and your best friend had been friends since you started college. Sharing a dorm but soon transitioned into sharing an apartment. There were lots of things you loved about your best friend. Cleanliness, kindness, humor; but most importantly? The brother. Choso. He was a sweetheart, cute. Would always blush and stutter when you were around.

You didn't see him too often, only when he paid your best friend a visit. And today just happened to be one of those days. You admit. You'd liked him for a while and have had you fair share of..wet dreams about him. And you were pretty certain he thought about you too. His eyes would always linger a little bit longer than they should. And yet you two continued to dance around it, but not anymore. You were changing all of that today.

"Hey, we're out flour. And I need it to make the cake for later." You said, nonchalant. Hoping your best friend would offer to run to the store and grab some. "I...can get it." Choso said quietly.

"Actually, I needed your opinion on something, so I'd like you to stay here." He seemed confused but agreed, your best friend leaving the two of you alone.

"What did you ne-ah!" He yelped, just now noticing how close you'd gotten. Your hands messed with the ends of his shirt. "What I need, is your big dick inside me. Do you have any objections?" You opted to go the more direct route. Leaving no room for confusion. Choso immediately sucked in a breath, feeling his dick harden in his pants. Was this real? He would've pinched himself but the feel of your nails dragging along his stomach was all he needed. He nodded. "No..objections."

"Good." You gave him a smile before undoing his pants. Sliding them down his thighs, along with yourself, until you were eye level with his thick cock. You licked your lips, eyeing the beads of precum that already formed at the tip. "U-Um," he started but immediately hissed when he felt you kitten-lick his tip. Collecting what sticky liquid leaked out and pulled it back into your mouth. "Fuck-" he breathed, tentatively resting his hand in your hair. You hummed in approval before slowly slipping the tip into your mouth. Suckling as the sticky liquid glued itself to your tongue.

"Oh-oh fuck, keep doing that." He spoke softly, smoothing out your hair. And so you did, suckling on his tip until eventually he started to push more of himself in your mouth. Your tongue wrapped around his length, paying special attention to the veins that lined the underside of his cock. "God-your mouth is so warm, so wet." Choso grunted, his fingers now threading into your hair as he guided you. Moving you up and down his length, groaning low in his throat the further down you went. Until, eventually, you bottomed out. Your nose pressed flush against his pelvis, buried in the tufts of black hair.

"Mmm-fuck, give me a minute-i just-fuck." He held you there, breathing harshly through his nose as he tried his best not to cum. His body shook, his hips itching to thrust himself forward.

Your throat bobbed, contracting around his length and making him hiss. With one more breath, he finally let go. Giving you free rein to suck his cock like you wanted. And you did.

Obscene sucking noises filled the room, your chokes and gags mixing along with it. "Fuck-fuck-your mouth, God. It's better than I imagined." His hands framed your face, keeping your hair out of the way so he could watch his dick disappear past your lips. It was erotic. It was too much and he found himself stilling his hips, shooting ropes of his sticky seed down your throat. Eyes closed and head tilted back as he road out the orgasm. But you didn't stop, your mouth still sucking him in.

"W-Wait...that's, I just came-i can't, oh fuck-" hot searing pleasure shot through his veins, eyes crossing as he thrusted his limp-now hardening, dick into your mouth. But your goal wasn't to suck him off again. So when he was hard once more, you pulled off with a pop. Ignoring the confusion on his face as you dragged him to the couch, pushing him to sit. Climbing immediately on his lap before you seated yourself on him.

"What are y-oh my God, oh-s'tight...fuuck." he groaned, pulling your body flush against his as he tried to breathe. The stimulation already too much for his poor cock. But you didn't give him that time. Immediately angling yourself to bounce up and down on his cock. His arms tightened around you as he whined. Mumbling 's'too much' and 'please keep going' over and over. His thick cock reaching deep inside you, pressing all the right spots to have you shake, stilling as you came all over him and yourself. "Squeezing me s'tight, gonna make me-" He choked, his dick spilling yet another load inside you. And it still wasn't enough.

You gathered up strength and started to bounce on his poor, limp dick. Fresh tears formed in his eyes as he told you it was too sensitive. That he couldn't cum again.

"Can't...can't cum anymore, please you-oh god, fuck me. Squeezing me like that-" He held tight to your body, thrusting up into you as his mind soon entered a fuzzy aroused state. Where his body tingled from the overstimulation but it felt good. "Gonna cum...yes yes, m'gonna cum. With me, please. Cum with m-" He broke off into a sob, shooting barely any cum inside you, his balls already being drained. His broken whining and sobbing had you cuming moments later, your body falling limp against him.

"One more," you mumbled, hips shifting slowly.

You didn't care that your best friend could be home any minute. Could possibly catch you riding Choso like a damned monster. All you could think about was taking all his cum. Milkin him for all he's worth.

[casuallyawkardd]

Hiiii o/

I was thinking about Miguel and reader having to go to a different universe to do something because of an anomaly and they are faced with spider man or better spider woman of that universe who is none other than Reader!

And of course they start to get along and Miguel has to stand there wondering what god he pissed off to deal with two of you kkkkkkk

But what is the situation if Reader 2 (tense moment) says "Oh, you also have a Miguel? It's so nice to know that my husband and I are together in another universe too! working together 😍😍" Just completely oblivious to the fact that Miguel and reader are not married 🫣 🫣 (or maybe even together yet 👀 ""But the two have feelings for each other and have that sexual tension, BUT NOBODY DOES ANYTHING" hehehe).

could you write something please please please.

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or

if you want you could also add this idea to your main story whatever you feel good about. Rsrsrsrs 😁😁

Cute! Love it, sorry the request took so long to fulfill, but enjoy 😘

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Warnings: fluff, wholesome vibes, awkward beans being awkward beans

It was another day at HQ, another day being one of the many versions of Spider-Woman, or so you thought. You had been assigned a mission, your partner none other than the Spider-Society leader himself. This wasn't what was out of the ordinary, in fact you had gotten used to being paired with Miguel. And you certainly didn't mind. It wasn't something you'd ever admit, but when the Spider-Man had approached you with the offer of joining an elite group of Spider people a couple of years ago, his looks weren't exactly a hindrance to his proposal.

Course you'd never try making a move on the man. Not only would it be highly unprofessional, but who knows how'd he respond. Miguel wasn't exactly the easiest to predict, he was known to fly off the handle on occasion. You having seen many a poor, inanimate object tossed across the room during one of his tantrums. While you didn't expect a reaction like that, the sour expression you'd seen him give many a spider wasn't something you'd like being on the receiving end of. And that was more likely than a trashcan coming at your head.

Speaking of, you finally spot the man himself. He's on the move, as expected, seeming to be stuck between talking to Lyla on his gizmo and chewing out some of the newer spider recruits. The good news is he's walking in your direction, meaning you don't have to pathetically attempt to catch up to his long strides.

"Hey Miguel," you say before he gets the chance to pass you, the sound of your voice giving him pause as he glances your way.

"Oh, there you are," he says in his usual monotone, coming to a stop beside you as he finishes with his gizmo, as well as giving direction to the new spider recruits on their assignments. When it's finally just the two of you, he lets out a heavy sigh, pinching the skin between his brows and massaging the muscle.

"I thought you said you weren't going to recruit anymore spiders," you comment, a bit of tease in your tone. "That there were too many to keep track of."

"There is," he said, almost woefully, "but with infinite universes, there's infinite problems." Miguel finally turns to look at you, something in his hardened expression relaxing when you make eye contact. It's the kind of moment that has the potential to make you weak in the knees, but gets quickly cut short as he clears his throat and turns away. "Come on, we've got a lot to do today."

"A lot being...?"

"I want to do a patrol in your universe, you just finished with canon event: Venom versus Spiderman, want to make sure that symbiote didn't leave anything behind," he starts, "then Earth-199999, that ones still recovering from the incident with Dr. Strange...There's also been reports of anomalies on Earths 31913, 44145 and 616."

"Wow, that is a lot," you say, wincing at the thought of the headache this day could bring.

Your comment makes Miguel scoff, the corner of his mouth turning upward as he looks back at you, "Don't worry, arañita. The two of us have a good track record, in terms of working together. You'll be back on your couch in time to watch that God awful show of yours."

"Hey! Just because it's a cartoon, doesn't mean it's awful! You'd like it if you just gave it a chance."

Miguel rolls his eyes, a puff of air passing his lips in a 'psh' sound. "Now that, I highly doubt."

A day spent patrolling and capturing anomalies was the definition of draining. The trip to your home turf was a good start to the day. Uneventful as the symbiote had been thoroughly dealt with, you were even able to convince Miguel to grab something to eat since the two of you skipped breakfast. Sitting on top of your apartment complex, overlooking New York, all while munching on some greasy burgers and fries was a surprisingly nice change of pace. Miguel even seemed to relax, that was until an alarm sounded on his gizmo.

It turned out that the reports about an anomaly on Earth-44145 were true. A universe where Norman Osborn was Spiderman had sightings of the Green Goblin flying about, wreaking havoc on the streets of New York. A couple scrapes and cuts, some bruised ribs and a few minutes dealing with two Normans in one room, the anomaly was subdued and the two of you were able to get back on track.

Earth-199999 was surprisingly very different from the universes you usually visited. Similar to your own, but with many more superheroes. After checking in on the Peter of this universe, as well as Dr. Strange, Miguel made a comment about they weren't even a dent into the cast of characters this universe had spat out. When you pried, Miguel let out a reluctant huff, mumbling something about showing you some other day.

Earth-31913 was Webslinger's territory and he was a big help in taking out a Sandman variant. The anomaly being in a universe based in the Old West was a terrible combination, the villain nearly taking out half the town. You could've sworn Miguel had a heart attack when you took the risk of toppling the old water tower to weaken the enemy, Miguel having to claw his way through a mound of wet sand to retrieve you. He looked almost ready to rip you apart himself, but when he found you relatively unharmed he calmed down.

Stepping into the final universe of the day, you let out a heavy sigh, "I don't think I can do this ever again," you huffed, "five universes in one day, three of them with different anomalies, I know we're superheroes and all, but I don't feel super right now."

Miguel didn't respond right away, tapping away on his gizmo for the hundredth time that day, "Then don't be so reckless. You're putting your body through the ringer without needing to."

"Don't tell me you're still mad about when I stole the Goblin's glider."

"You didn't steal the glider, your suit caught on one of the blades and you flew seven blocks, flailing and screaming."

"I did not flail. I-"

"Hold on," Miguel held up a finger, making your teeth grind together in annoyance. He was quiet for a moment, focused on the device on his wrist before looking into the distance. "Anomaly detected. Washington Street."

With that he was off, you needing to take a deep breath to gather your bearings before following after. You took inventory of your surroundings as the two of you swung through the air, looking for the differences that made this universe unique to itself. Surprisingly, it seemed like many of the other New York cities you had seen before, modern day with cars honking in the streets and civilians bustling to and from their destinations.

The two of you landed atop one of the tall buildings, Miguel scanning the area to pinpoint the anomaly in question. You did the same, in your own way, using your eyes over technology to overlook Washington Street, heightened senses working to your benefit.

Spotting a small building just down the road, your eyes lit up in delight, "What about over there?" you asked, pointing to the business in question.

Miguel looked up, walking to stand beside you. Once he realized what you were pointing at, he frowned in disapproval, "An ice cream parlor? How old are you again?"

"Har, har," you laugh sarcastically, rolling your eyes and activating the gizmo on your wrist. "C'mon, I've never seen another universe that had a Let's Be Dairy, besides the one in my universe," you started to explain, tapping away on the device, "plus, if I got sent to another universe against my will, I'd want something sweet to make me feel better."

Before he could respond, your gizmo pinged, picking up on a signal coming from the anomaly's presence. Ignoring your shit eating grin, Miguel led the way to the ice cream shop, overthinking how the two of you were going to get in while you simply landed by the front door and opened it, his plans flying out the window, much to his dismay.

It had grown late in this universe, the shop only having one or two customers still inside. While you were admiring just how similar it was to the one in your universe, Miguel brushed by, muttering something about going to search for the anomaly and leaving you to your own devices. While ordering your usual, a familiar chill went up your spine. The same one you had felt when you joined Spider-Society. Looking around, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Was there another spider in this universe?

Miguel had been searching for an embarrassingly long time, at least to his standard. The ice cream parlor wasn't that big and yet he had spent almost an hour searching for the damned anomaly. He wondered if something had gone wrong with his tech, smacking the device on his wrist with his palm in frustration. After pacing circles around the shop, to the point even the other patrons were looking at him funny, he felt he had finally cracked the code.

All this time, he had expected the anomaly to be hiding. Maybe in a backroom or in the bathroom, and yet here they were. Pinging on his device and showing they were in a corner booth all along. He debated finding you first, out number the target for a surefire capture, but he figured you were indisposed at the moment. Most likely on your second helping of the 'delicacy' this parlor provided.

His back was pressed against the wall, the anomaly just on the other side. All he had to do was round the corner, capture the anomaly and drag it and you back to HQ. With a deep breath, he lunged forward, device at the ready to capture the anomaly. As he prepared to launch the instrument, the wind was knocked from his sails at the sight before him.

First, he saw you. Mid bite of what did indeed look like a second helping of ice cream, eyes wide in shock at his sudden arrival. Across from you in the booth was...you. At least she looked like you. Sure, her hair was longer, a different color and texture. Her spidersuit was different too, concealed with an oversized jacket, but every facial feature of hers matched yours. What the hell...

"Jesus, Miguel, you gave me a heart attack," you said, the you he knew, hand going to your heart to will it to start beating again.

He didn't respond right away, eyes darting between the two of you. "What..what am I even looking at?" he settled on asking, a pinch of annoyance hitting him when the two of you exchanged teasing looks.

"I found the anomaly," you said.

"And it's me," said the other you.

"Told you anomalies like ice cream."

"Vale, vale, I get it," Miguel huffed, tech used to capture an anomaly now put away. Sighing heavily, his arms crossed over his chest, taking in the sight of the two of you once more. Finally, his eyes settled on 'you'. "How did you get here?"

"Well..." you started, "I was on my way home, after a long day of saving New York city," 'you' added the last bit in a teasing tone, "and suddenly there was this portal and boom! I'm in another New York, glitching in and out of reality."

"You're not glitching now."

"I gave her a day pass," you chimed in, the other you lifting her wrist to show the device in question.

Miguel's eyes narrowed, "Those are for exclusive personnel only."

"Oh, stop it. I'm not just gonna sit here and watch a version of me suffer," you pout at him and he scoffs, rolling his eyes at your childish behavior.

"Well, if you two are done, we can send you back home," Miguel looked to 'you', who nodded eagerly at the opportunity. The three of you made your way out of the ice cream shop, Miguel and you walking shoulder to shoulder while other you tagged along behind. She watched contently as the two of you bickered, in a way that made her smile nostalgically.

"You two are cute," she finally said once you three stepped outside, "I'm glad that I have a Miguel in another universe too."

That comment gave you both pause, looking back at her, "You have a Miguel in your universe?" you asked.

She nodded eagerly, tugging her suit to reveal her hand, adorning a wedding ring. "Yeah, our husband," she said it like it was the most obvious thing to know and your jaw dropped. 'You' didn't seem to take notice, continuing on, "Well, the Miguel in my universe isn't Spider-Man, he's just a scientist. But he helps out when he can, my man behind the computer I guess," she chuckled softly. "Anywho, I should be getting home, yeah? He's probably got dinner ready, don't want my Miguel to worry."

"Right," Miguel finally spoke after a long pause, scanning 'you' with the gizmo and creating a portal to her dimension. "You know, if you're ever interested in helping out other universes..."

"Hmm, I'm good," the other you said, smiling. "One of me helping out is good enough." Flashing another cheeky smile, she stepped through, the portal shutting after her. With nothing left to do, Miguel and you returned to HQ, a long day of work behind you both.

"That's crazy isn't it? I mean, it makes sense, but it's still weird meeting another you," you rambled as the two of you walked through the hallway. Miguel didn't say much in response, just humming in acknowledgement. "A universe where we're married, you don't suppose-"

"Are you free this weekend?" Miguel interrupted, stopping in his tracks and facing you. The suddenness caught you off guard, but you caught up quickly.

"Yeah, why?"

"We should do something together."

One of your brows quirked upward, "And what would we do?"

Miguel shrugged, "Well, you keep raving about some ice cream parlor back in your universe. Let's start with that."

Tags: @prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx @graysonshaven @qiaipia @3zae-zae3 @melovetitties @jebsoxnoshansk @thedevax @erissco @its-carlerrr @muimui06 @cheezit-luv3rr @leo-lvr @stqrlightrs

[ovaryacted]

POOLSIDE || Dieter Bravo

PAIRING: Dieter Bravo x lifeguard! afab reader || WC: 1.8k

SYNOPSIS: You take a job as a private lifeguard for a Hollywood actor. Turns out, you got much more than what you bargained for.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Smutty. Drug usage - weed via a joint. Lots of banter and cursing. Ambiguous age gap [Dieter is canon age, Reader is 21+]. Allusions to sex (pussy eating). Dieter may be ooc due to unfamiliarity. He is still: horny, unhinged, and loves drugs. Ending leaves much to the imagination. I don't know how Hollywood agents or lifeguarding work, just have fun with it, it's supposed to be funny.

A/N: Hey there, surprise! This is for the Summer Lovin' Challenge hosted by @pedgito! I got "by the water" for Dieter Bravo with the prompt: you can’t keep distracting me while I work, and this is what I came up with. I will admit, I am fairly unfamiliar with Dieter as a whole, though I had to read a bunch of other fics to get a sense of who he is, so this was a challenge. But I hope this is enjoyable to those who like him cause I had a little fun going out of my comfort zone. This is my first time writing for this character and I am rusty, please be nice. Dividers are by @saradika-graphics. Anyway, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

When you signed up for a lifeguard gig from a Hollywood agent, you expected to watch over some celebrities’ kids by their large private pool, racking up hundreds for babysitting spoiled brats and lounging by the best-filtered chlorine available. Yet what you got was the complete opposite. Instead of watching over little kids, you were burdened to monitor an overgrown child in the body of a man.

Dieter Bravo. You’ve heard of him, some veteran actor you never really paid much attention to. The name sounded distantly familiar, remembering him at some award shows like the Oscars and recalling his name popping up in some of the selections. At the end of the day, you didn’t give much of a fuck who he was, but when you could take a job with a stipend large enough it would give you that guaranteed comma in your bank account, you didn’t object.

When you reached his private home in Santa Monica, it was quaint and modern enough not to bore you. You arrived around 11 am before the sun reached the highest point in the sky, setting up your gear and peeling away your baggy t-shirt and denim shorts to reveal the red cheeky one-piece you wore underneath. It’s better to play the part, right? At least, that’s what the agent mentioned.

Unsurprisingly, Dieter was about to step into the pool when you entered his private yard, isolated from the rest of the neighborhood and with a generous view over the hills. He tilted his head to the side as he looked at you, eyebrows lifting at the sight of a new person in his space, in a bathing suit, no less.

“You must be the lifeguard my agent hired.” It was a matter-of-fact statement, yet you didn’t fail to miss how his warm brown eyes landed on your chest before meeting your gaze again. “I don’t need a babysitter, you know.”

“Apparently, you do. Look, I’m doing this for the pay. You stay on your good behavior, and I’ll be out of your hair. Simple as that.” A straightforward agreement, you think, he’s a grown-ass man. Surely, he can listen to the bare minimum of instructions.

“Deal,” Dieter said, leaving you to your own devices. You watched as he materialized a joint from his pocket and planted it between his plush lips, sparking his lighter to inhale a drag. He exhaled through his nose, pungent smoke filling the distance between you two and making you scrunch your nostrils. You eyed him silently, holding your hand out and shaking your head when he gestured the joint in your direction for a pull.

That’s why he needed a lifeguard. Getting high off of god knows what in the pool must have been his favorite pastime before he did something stupid or endangered himself. Figures.

Propping yourself on one of the lounge chairs lined by the side of the pool, you got comfortable, tinted shades sitting on the bridge of your nose. You could lean back for some time and catch a nice tan for the first two hours, giving you something to do. You don’t think the man in question will bother you too much or do something as stupid as to drown on your watch, but you’ll do your best to ensure that doesn’t happen.

To your amazement, Dieter was quiet, humming to himself and enjoying his high as he swam about and floated in the pool. When he wasn’t looking, you’d take a couple of glances just to be sure he hadn’t sunk to the bottom. Those were also the moments when you’d get a good look at him, sneaking peeks of his face and body over the blue water.

In a way, he was handsome, with a rugged charm that brought a level of interest you didn’t initially notice. He had a head of curly brown hair and a patchy beard adorned his jaw. His soft abdomen had a trail of light hair lining from his belly button to his groin. Selfishly, you took in the way his light blue shorts hugged his hips, thick thighs shifting to keep his body upright.

Leaning back into the chair as if you hadn’t been picking apart his appearance for the past 3 minutes, you pretended like somehow this strange man wasn’t sneaking into the recesses of your mind and the depths of your gut.

It helped he was cute—just a little bit.

After lunch and munching on some catered sandwiches, you moved from lounging in the chair to sitting along the edge of the pool, dipping your feet in the water. All things considered, you thought Dieter’s house was nice, probably better than his apartment in New York, but you’d kill to have either.

Setting your sunglasses on the top of your head, you could practically feel this man watching you from the other end of the pool, taking in your movements with unfocused eyes. You ignored him, thinking it was just a coincidence or an outcome of his high. But as the faux obliviousness of his stares continued, his dramatic sighs and tricks in the water came after, squinting in his direction to gauge what he was up to.

He began to swim towards you until his hand gripped the tiled edge, running the other through his wet hair to pull it back. You caught his stare, dilated pupils hazed with a silent question.

“Can I help you, Dieter?” Speaking to him directly now, this was probably the first thing you’ve said to him since your heady warning earlier in the day.

“I’m bored.”

“Not my problem.” You shrugged again, the man groaning like a toddler on the precipice of throwing a tantrum.

“C’mon. There has to be something else we can do while you sit all pretty and shit.” Dieter said out loud, making you raise an eyebrow at the catch of certain words. It must be the weed. Ignore him.

“You can always pay and leave me alone to do anything else.” You replied, your attention drawn to one of his hands gently touching your ankle as your foot pushed against his wrist.

“You’re telling me you’re not bored too?”

“Oh yeah, bored out of my fucking mind. But you can’t keep distracting me while I work.”

“This isn’t work. It’s a babysitting job, a bad one at that.” His fingers ran over the top of your foot absentmindedly, and you had half a mind to kick his hand away. You relented, thinking it’d be worth your time if you played your cards right. 

“Have you seen yourself, Dieter? You need surveillance 25/8. I’ve been counting down the minutes to see when I will find you face down still as shit in the pool.”

You half expected him to curse you out or even be upset with what you said. Instead, he laughed, hearty and loud, bringing a wide grin across his face and giving you a perfect view of his smile. You couldn’t help but chuckle along with him out of ridiculousness.

“If you want to keep me occupied and alive, I have an idea of what we can do.” Dieter’s tone turned suggestive, something you didn’t miss. His strong arms wrapped around both of your legs and you welcomed the contact, wanting to know what he could mean, for research purposes of course.

“What do you have in mind?” You grew curious, almost taking back the words that tumbled from your mouth before his eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Well…we are alone. Nobody’s out here but us.” His thumb teasingly caressed the side of your thigh, doing nothing to quell the warmth bubbling in your core with every stroke against your skin. Suggesting to fuck a client? That wasn’t in the job description, nor was there an NDA.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Am I laughing?” Dieter was closer now, maybe too close, his chin resting on the top of your legs as he looked up at you. He reminded you of a puppy dog waiting for his treat, except you were dealing with a complete horndog with no sense of self outside of LSD and bad actor accents.

“Consider it a bonus for taking such good care of me.”

“What am I? A prostitute?” Your eyes rolled in defiance, brushing off what you think was his terrible flirting if that’s what you would call it.

“For the fucking record, I pay all of my sex workers generously. But no, this is just me showing my appreciation.” Dieter’s lips came down to kiss the newly tanned skin of your knee, prompting you to release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“You barely know me.”

“Hasn’t stopped me before. I’m sure you can say the same for yourself.” He couldn’t wipe the smirk from his face, and you don’t think you’d want him to.

“It’ll be much more fun than just watching me for the rest of the day. Don’t even gotta see my dick, I just want to taste you for a while.” He placed another kiss higher on your thigh as his fingers pressed into your calves under the water. “What do you say?”

In silence, you mentally listed the many reasons why this was a bad idea. What would it look like if you fucked Dieter Bravo the first day you were supposed to look after him? A sex addict and drug fiend who somehow still had an acting career despite a change in reputation. Red Flag was written all over his forehead in bright, bold letters.

Yet, those warnings didn’t push you away farther than you needed to be. You were already here, so you might as well leave with something. Besides, it was only 2 in the afternoon, you had some time to spare.

Dieter watched in hunger as your legs parted in front of him, supporting yourself on your arms and you smiled as you did. He was so close he could practically smell you, the stretchy material of your bathing suit hiding the treat he sought after the moment you stepped into his yard. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the taste of your pussy in the back of his mouth, coating his tongue with your slick to quench his thirst on this hot summer day.

He tried so hard to conceal the moan that slipped between his lips, suppressed by his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“You better make this worth it, or you’ll find yourself a new lifeguard.” Dieter laughed, thick fingers wrapping around your thighs and hands on your hips. He gave your body a soft tug, bringing you to the pool’s edge and closer to where he could have his mouth on you.

“Promise baby, you’ll be coming back every day this whole summer.”

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