#it's seriously becoming difficult to finish it

[sallysellsseashellssundays]

Disclaimer: This post is going to be Anti Moffat for anyone who’s reading and is a fan you’ve been warned.  

“Let’s Kill Hitler” is the eight episode and if I thought I couldn’t be more disappointed after the last 2 episodes...

The Good: The Tesselecta is an interesting concept but I don’t think it was used to its full potential. Matt’s acting in the scene where he says something about his leg falling asleep was funny.

Everything else being the absolute worst: 

Amy says he’s had all summer to look for Melody, but he has a time machine! He could literally go search for years and come back just one day after they last saw him. They have to make a crop circle to catch his attention and he doesn’t answer their phone calls... at the beginning of the series it had also been a few months for them and they hadn’t heard from him as well. I feel like I’m being hit over the head every episode with the fact that he barely even cares for his friends and would much rather not be around them. It’s such a shame b/c one of the things I liked the most about the show was the interactions between the Doctor and the companions :(

Setting an episode in this time period...especially something having to do with Hitler is a risk that I don’t think paid off, it was essentially used for a few cheap laughs. 

River has apparently been “trained” since birth but it must be the universe’s worst assassin training b/c she didn’t use the lip stick thing right away as Mels and even though she did kill him she then helped him w/o there being ANY reason whatsoever as to why she would do that...she literally would have zero motivation to help the man she’s been trained to kill! She’s also supposed to be quite clever but the Doctor pretty much called her River to her face multiple times and she couldn’t figure out that it was her. She was also very conveniently almost obsessed with the fact that the Doctor kept referring to someone named River. To add to that, if Mels really was their best friend who knew about the Doctor I feel like Amy would have told her everything during the summer...so Mels should know that she’s River unless Amy doesn’t actually tell her BFF anything that’s not convenient to the plot. 

River called him “sweetie” and “my love” when it would be too early in her timeline for her to know she’s going to marry him...much less harbor any feelings for him if she’s supposed to be trained to kill him (honestly this bothered me so much...she’s a hitwoman why would she care at all for her target??). Mels just now being introduced as their “best friend” since childhood was extremely sloppy writing, I thought Moffat had the whole River storyline planned out but it just comes across like he’s making it up as he goes. Mels being obsessed with the Doctor (repeating Moffat theme here we go), initially only talking about him being hot, and shooting the TARDIS console just makes River an even more unlikable character for me. 

There were horrible sexist comments written in this episode about how she was focusing on a dress size, how she needed to weigh herself, essentially everything she does being overly sexualized, the Doctor saying “plus she’s a woman” during the brainwashing conversation and even the comment about how she might focus on her age while looking at herself in the mirror  😒 😒  

The TARDIS materializing around Amy and Rory when in the last episode the Doctor had to assemble an army to rescue Amy when he could have just done the same thing. Amy going through a horrifying situation in the past few months and seemingly being completely fine. Just ugh so much I disliked in this episode!

The Unresolved: I am so unbelievably confused by River’s timeline b/c I thought it was backwards to the Doctor’s. The first time he met her was the last time she saw him...she saw him at his “youngest” so he should be moving towards seeing her younger and younger until she doesn’t know him. But now he’s seen her as a child in the astronaut suit, as a baby, as Mels, and the beginning of her life as “River Song” so it seems like his timeline is now moving in the same direction as hers? River being able to kill all those soldiers with regeneration energy seems new b/c Ten was only able to regenerate his hand. Wondering if they will explain what “child of the TARDIS” even means...unsure as to how she’s practically a Time Lord who apparently got rid of all of her regenerations. The Doctor must have done a lot of research into all of this and now knows all about River b/c just last episode he was very confused but I wish we could have seen him finding out about it so as an audience member you could follow along. The TARDIS voice interface saying “regeneration disabled” and the Doctor simply dying instead of regenerating, umm?? The Silence isn’t a species but a religious order has me confused b/c they all look the same I wonder if they’ll make a reappearance.

Overall I feel like the River storyline could have been decent if it wasn’t tied into her being Amy and Rory’s daughter/their childhood BFF/also the Doctor’s wife, but I’m getting the feeling that it’s all coming apart b/c it probably wasn’t planned out properly. I wish they at least tried to make River a likeable character, but then again the Doctor hasn’t been likeable since like the Xmas special either. I’ve now been bored for 3 episodes which is rough, and for someone who didn’t like Amy much in S5 I feel like I’m now only watching the show for her and Rory.

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [2] | Aemond Targaryen

Part Two

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop ;o

Word Count: (I'm... sorry?) 7.1k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! UNEDITED!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? power struggle both in bed and out, reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, degradation, Aemond is a fucking asshole but he's sexy, talk of masturbation. as always, let me know if I have missed anything!

Author's note: Entirely unedited because here I am posting this at 2:30AM having just finished writing this bad boy even though I have to be up for work at 7:30. yay :/. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love on this series so far! I'm thinking there could potentially be some more to come. Reader ain't done with her revenge so soon. I will reblog with the taglist tomorrow! or today I guess--after I've had some sleep! I would also love to hear your thoughts!! So pls hmu in my inbox to chat abt things xoxo kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Part One

Distancing yourself from Aemond was not a difficult task. You’d barely see much of him aside from the meals you shared and your occasional stroll through the gardens anyway. It still felt odd, knowing that you were avoiding him when only days ago you had been grasping at whatever crumb of his attention you could reach. 

His existence was ghostly. Always talked about but never seen and it made it remarkably easy to ignore him. You spent most days between your chambers and Helaena’s, idly passing time with embroidery and small talk. But you were distracted - your mind foggy and your usual grace and poise replaced by clumsiness and a constant flustered jumpiness.

It was always on your mind. Always. 

Your mind was a problem of its own and as soon as you lay down amongst your sheets for a night of sleep, it took you back to the memory of your name lewdly falling from Aemond’s lips. As days had passed, you could have convinced yourself it was a hallucination - an odd dream of some sort.  

And while it had become muscle memory for your hand to find your soaked sex at the midnight hour, the scene of your alluring husband in the throes of pleasure bringing you to a quick peak, the first two nights had been marred with silent tears of humiliation, hurt, betrayal–jealousy and anger. 

Maybe it was for the best that you had not seen the face of the whore in his private chambers. If you had any idea of who she was, you would have had half a mind to have sought her out and suffocated her yourself.

You had to remind yourself that if she were, in fact, a whore then you could hardly let yourself seriously consider choking a woman out for simply doing her job. 

Frustration was an understatement. No matter how hard you tried, there was nothing that you could do which would calm the mix of emotions inside you. You considered declaring Aemond’s infidelity at dinner–or even at the small feast that was held two nights ago. But it wouldn’t be enough and it was too early to show your hand. 

If you had come out and made it known to all at Court, nothing would happen. At all. 

Most husbands take on whores and mistresses. And despite the pain and hurt of it that the wives suffer, it’s simply accepted as the way things are. Men are innately animals and so they must fuck like it too. So nobody would bat an eyelid at Aemond. Instead, you knew that they’d turn it on you in one way or another. 

On the sixth day, you were surprised when Ser Tunsley knocked on your door to announce your husband’s presence. When Aemond took a seat at the small table where you usually shared your breakfast, he barely spared you more than an inquisitive look before telling your handmaid to bring your breakfasts promptly. 

Aemond leaned back, letting his legs rest comfortable but still maintained his effortlessly flawless posture. He reached for the book that lay forgotten on the side-table, holding it open with one hand and his other arm stretching over the back of the seat beside him, where you sat all tense and surprised. A barely-there frown crossed your face at the foreign gesture and you willed yourself not to think much of it.

You would have fumbled to snatch the book from his hands, if this had been a week earlier. But it wasn’t, and with a curious and conniving sense of calm, you let him read the first page of a story riddled with obscenity and romance. The first couple chapters were perfectly appropriate.

The prince looked at you with a gentle tilt of his head, unmoving aside from . “You have been withdrawn.”

Silence. You were sitting beside him, unable to meet his eye as you usually would, scoffing so softly at his words that he almost mistook it for a cough. 

Aemond, who was far more observant of you than he knew you believed him to be, found that he was bothered by it. Whether it was because of the loss of the devotion that he had always seen in your doe-eyed gaze, or the flippant shift in your attitude, he did not want to know. 

“Have I done something that has bothered you, dear wife?” His eye returned to the book and moved from one side of the page to the other as he read. 

Aemond clearly did not see you watching them on that night. The fact that you had faced no repercussions for sneaking up on him and eavesdropping on such a moment was enough confirmation of that. 

But Aemond’s presence re-ignited the red hot resentment you had for his actions and the hurt that you felt because of him. How any man could seek out the company of his wife for the first time in a week, sit beside her and pretend so shamelessly as if he cared for the repercussions of his own vile actions was beyond you. 

Nonetheless, you forced a polite smile onto your lips and turned slightly to face him better. You let his question linger in the air between you as the maid returned, placing a plate of cheeses, fruits and an assortment of breads on the table in front of you. 

Thanking her, you reached to pour yourself a cup of the sweet vanilla and rose tea that had become your favourite part of your mornings in the Keep. When you answered his question, it was purposefully less than what Aemond was seeking. 

“I have been ill, lord husband,” you murmured. When you rested against the back of the seat, you tensed at the feeling of Aemond’s arm grazing your shoulder. You had forgotten it was there. 

Your reaction to his proximity and while you had initially been shy around him–not so much since you had started your little performance–, you never flinched away from his touch. 

Aemond placed the book down beside him and hummed in thought. He reached over you, to take a piece of fresh bread for his plate and to put some fruit on your plate, his chest pressing against your shoulder and his hair brushing past your nose. 

If you had moved, just an inch, your lips would be against the milky skin of his throat. Despite your disdain for your husband, you could hear the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears and stopped yourself from dragging your fingers through his hair and tracing your lips across his jaw. 

There was an unfamiliar sense of purpose behind what he was doing. It dawned on you that he knew what he was doing. The bread was already on his plate but the son of a bitch placed the fruits piece by piece on your plate, his movements lazy. 

He smelled like lavender, leather and dragon smoke. Like an intoxicating drug that overwhelmed your mind until piety and sin were indiscernible. It was far too easy for you to see Aemond as more godly than just a mere man, to feel the need to worship him in the most sinful ways you could imagine. 

No man in any realms was as strong, as beautiful, as terrifying, as educated as the prince who breathed fire onto your skin. And he was your prince. 

A drop in your stomach was the least of your problems when the image of Aemond enjoying another woman’s passion invaded your thoughts. You wondered if his scent drove her just as mad as it made you and you had the urge to drive a knife through Aemond’s hand for you knew he’d have let her indulge in him. 

But when he looked at you, his violet eye a mask of indifference yet still failing to hide something that you couldn’t for the life of you put into words, you hated that your desire for him burned just as strong as your rage. 

Aemond’s eye met yours, humming in thought as he brought a cherry to his lips and glancing down at your own. He took a bite out of it first and then brought it to your mouth, dragging the open side across your bottom lip. The soft fruit dripped delicately onto your chin and left a stain on your perfect lips. The sight of you with reddened lips, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, shining with an uncorrupted devotion and a pure desire sent his blood rushing. 

The cherry was sweet and chilled, a stark contrast to the darkened, heated want that Aemond watched you with. And again, you had an urge to ignore everything and take what it was that you had been hoping Aemond would give you. You obediently took the cherry into your mouth, holding his gaze, chewing the flesh of the fruit and rolling the pip on your tongue. 

When you looked hard enough into Aemond’s eye, you could see the reflection of yourself morph into a reflection of the unnamed woman and you turned from him, turning away to drop the pip of the cherry onto a napkin. 

Aemond’s hand fell softly to rest on your knee and he only moved back a nudge. You refused to meet his eye but you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke, his voice slightly strained yet still calm and smooth. “I’ll send for a maester.” 

“Thank you,” you pushed the words out of your mouth and nodded towards the food. “You should eat your breakfast, my prince.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes at him and slid back into his previous posture, sitting against the backrest of his own seat. An infuriating grin played on his lips. “Don’t worry about my breakfast. Why did you roll your eyes at me?”

You rolled your eyes again. “As if I cannot call for a maester myself.”

It crossed your mind that you could have told him right now of what you had seen. And the urge to scream at him became so strong you almost did. 

But what would come of it? Not enough. Aemond would only offer you an apology if you were lucky and carry on as if nothing was amiss. Because that is just how it is for husbands–they could cheat and lie all they please to no consequence. And you wanted him to regret the moment he chose to disrespect you. 

You wanted him to suffer for it. To feel as insulted, as embarrassed and as inferior as you have.

So he would suffer. But you had to be patient if you were to make it hurt. 

A thought crossed your mind as Aemond said something you didn’t quite hear, with that unbothered expression he had mastered years ago. 

He didn’t linger long after that. You ate your breakfast in silence, while Aemond, much to your distaste, finished the first chapter of your book. And when he finally left, he took it with him, giving you a knowing smirk as he tucked it under his arm. 

One punch. Surely, you would be entitled to that. 

Initially, the idea of seducing Jason Lannister was a gruesome one. But upon hearing of his prolonged and unbusy presence at King’s Landing, you recognised an opportunity as it presented itself to you. Simply because of pride and ego, there were few men who enjoyed the idea of his wife turning to another man for what they could not provide. 

Alas, if there was any part of Aemond that made him weak, it was his pride and his arrogance. 

And so here you were, enjoying your afternoon tea with the Lannister twin, listening to stories of his life at Casterly Rock. You made sure the house staff had known of Lannister’s presence and that the Kingsguard were well aware of the pot of tea you shared in the Courtyard. Easily within sight of where you knew Aemond was training with Ser Cole and some other men you had no interest in knowing.

For the past thirty minutes, you could feel him watching you. But when you lifted your head to look, pretending to the man across from you that you were interested in watching your husband train, Aemond would turn away. Yet he finally seemed to have finally had enough and you could see him walking over from behind Jason, his shoulders stiffer than usual with a sour expression. 

“This tea,” you covered your mouth gently, letting out the remnants of a laugh that had been pulled from you. If you were being honest, Jason Lannister was turning out to be surprisingly fun company and the smile you had expected to fake ended up being real. Not bothering to look at Aemond, who was much closer now, you held your teacup towards the Lord Lannister with a pretty, sultry smile. “It is incredible–I’ve loved it so much, t’is the only tea I will drink. Have a taste of mine, I insist.”

With a look of blatant excitement, Jason leaned into where you held the cup, fingers grazing yours as he held the cup but never took it out of your hold and took a sip. It was slightly awkward, the way his eyes held onto yours, but you brightened your smile nonetheless. 

Aemond visibly inhaled a sharp breath and cleared his throat, covering the both of you in a dark shade. The prince was looming over Lannister, who never looked away from you even as you peeled your eyes away from him with exaggerated difficulty to meet Aemond’s eye. You dropped your smile so slightly that only Aemond could notice. 

There was a tense, awkward silence that lingered. Lannister’s head tilted ever so slightly and a wave of annoyance ran through you at the cocky tilt of his head regardless of the fact that it was exactly what you needed him to do. The two men stared at each other, Aemond’s typical dark repose and Lannister’s challenging chagrin at the disruption. 

“How nice of you to join us, my prince,” you beamed. “Lord Lannister has been sharing this pot of tea with me. It’s lovely to enjoy some company for once.”

You took pleasure in the way he squared his shoulders at your remark. Lannister snickered but was quick to cover it up with a cough at Aemond’s narrowed eye. 

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Aemond’s voice was sharp. “I happen to have some time on my hands before I take Vhagar to flight, lady wife. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll through the gardens?”

Aemond was behind you in a blink, tugging your chair back gently into himself and holding a hand out to help you stand. The air around you became soft lavender and leather and something very Aemond. And despite the slight flutter of your eyelids, you straightened and held strong. 

Weakness would get you nowhere. You were out here for a reason and no matter how strong the pull was, your lust to hurt him back was much stronger. 

You shook your head gently, looking at Jason who seemed to stiffen under the prince’s eye. “What kind of host would I be if I were to abandon Lord Lannister? Considering it was I who invited him to tea. We can enjoy the gardens another time, my prince.”

The fire in Aemond’s eye rivalled Vhagar’s. It gave you a sense of satisfaction that was much unlike yourself and you wondered how he’d burn with rage if you decided to take Jason to your bed. You’d lose everything you had to your name but you knew it would not be difficult to convince yourself that it’d be worth it.

Jason Lannister was no fool. He understood the wrath of the Targaryen prince but he knew that you would never be subjected to the extent of it. As much as Prince Aemond pretended he did not care, the Lords and counsellors of the Red Keep knew that he had his weaknesses. At the end of the day, Aemond would not dishonour himself by tarnishing the image of his pious, kind wife who was loved by all. 

Lannister also had his doubts about you. Again, he was no fool to fall for whatever game you were playing. An honourable, devoted Lady such as yourself would never actually be so easy to adulterate. Whatever it was, Jason was not against indulging himself in some fun here and there. 

But he did prefer to keep his limbs and so he shook his head gently and stood from his seat. 

“You have my thanks,” he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. A bold move from a man who could so strongly feel the Prince’s pointed glare. Jason turned and bowed his head gently towards Aemond. “But I fear I have some business to attend to, so do not stay back on my regard. It was lovely to sit with you, my Lady.”

Aemond scoffed loudly as the Lord took his leave. He waited for you to take his hand to help you out of your seat before dropping it to your waist. 

“My prince-”

“If you are so starved of company, dear wife,” he drawled, looking straight ahead with a tightened jaw as he led you in the direction of the gardens. It was a habit now, whenever Aemond had you on his arm, to walk that route. Not surprising seeing how it was the only place where you two would see each other apart from your chambers. “I would expect you to call upon me rather than some toady Lord who would certainly misjudge your intentions. I am your husband, am I not?”

The thought of keeping a list of the times he spoke as if he were faithful crossed your mind for barely a second. Aemond was infuriating. 

You offered him half of a smile and pulled him back slightly as you came to a stop. “You are. But your mind is never with me and I am well aware your time is far more precious to you than I am.”

If Aemond’s composure was not so ingrained into his existence, he may have spluttered and gawked at you. Instead, he barely frowned. 

There was little he could do about the unemotional, unkind man that he had become perceived as. Aemond understood that it was his own actions that meant people viewed him as little less than a monster. And truly, it was how he tried to be perceived. 

So why did it disturb Aemond that his own wife thought him so uncaring? He knew he had only himself to blame for it. 

“I am afraid a stroll in the gardens will have to wait,” you continued in his silence. Being alone with Aemond was not how you intended to spend the afternoon. The risk that you’d lose your composure and tell him all that you had seen of him was still high. “I am still feeling fairly unwell. It may be better for me to rest in my chambers with a book.”

Aemond knew that you were retracting into yourself, pulling away from him where you would have been at his beck and call only a week ago. He hummed. “Tomorrow then.” 

And with that, Aemond escorted you to your chambers in silence. It was hardly two hours that you had spent in the Courtyard with Lord Lannister but it had been tiring nonetheless. The peace and quiet that came with your reprieve from the man that had set your nerves into a frenzy just at the knowledge of his presence while you pressed at his patience was welcome. 

A few hours passed slowly in your own company. Dinner was brought to your room at your request. The mere thought of sitting beside your husband and putting on a display for his family exhausted you. 

The sounds of footsteps and conversation outside your door pulled your attention from the embroidery you had forced yourself to practise. Your chambers were fairly secluded compared to the rest and so it wasn’t often that anyone wandered this area. Expecting the Queen or your husband to be the source of the noise, you were hastily at the door, a sudden flush of anxiety shooting straight to your gut. 

You waited barely five seconds for Ser Tunsley to knock on your door but your impatience pushed you to step out first. There was nobody there. You could see Ser Tunsley stalking away from the direction of the private chambers. You didn’t question it, assuming he was probably stepping away for a brief break, given that his position hadn’t been replaced. 

Footsteps. Again. 

Curiously turning your head in the direction of the sound, you saw a flash of brunette hair and a dark grey dress. Fuck. 

It was impossible not to recognise her. Even as she walked away from you and clearly in the direction of Prince Aemond’s chambers, you knew who she was. 

So with one final glance back into your room you followed her, thankful that you were barefoot so that your own footsteps couldn’t be heard.  Even though your body was running hot with a mixture of heartache and rage, there was an icy stiffness that had spread from the back of your neck to your shoulders as you rounded a single corner after her and helplessly watched her enter Aemond’s chambers. 

You held back tears. She had left the door open. Again. It did little to ease the knot in your throat when you realised that while she may be good enough for Aemond with her mouth, she was not the smartest.

Unable to move, you stood planted in that one spot a few feet away for what must have been ten minutes before you heard the same shuffling and muffled voices. You could hear her more clearly this time and it took you another two minutes to build the courage to see, once again, how Aemond dishonoured you. 

If the circumstances were different, it may have been one of the sexiest sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. But it struck you in a way you couldn’t have expected and it took all of your willpower to stay standing. 

But what else had you expected?

This time, the woman was sprawled out, her head hanging off of the bed and if her eyes weren’t screwed shut in bliss then she would have been looking directly at you. Her left hand gripped the sheets and the other was tangled amongst Aemond’s silver hair, her thighs on either side of his head. 

Gods, you had never known anything like it. 

Aemond was devouring her like he had been starved of her for weeks (you knew he hadn’t), the obscene sounds of his mouth against her sex striking you with distress. He held her down as she writhed against him, a strong, clothed arm keeping her in place at her waist. 

You had hardly been watching them for thirty seconds and you didn’t even have time to consider turning around and walking away to save yourself the misery. 

Because Aemond’s eye opened and he gazed straight through his lashes, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. A piercing violet eye accompanied by a glimmering sapphire that watched you dangerously, as if he had seen you standing there the entire time and this was all entertaining to him. 

For what may well have been the tenth time that night, you couldn’t move. You stood at the door, chest heaving and jaw slack as you felt a tightness in your throat. How could you feel so powerless in a game you managed to believe you had the upperhand in? 

Aemond still held your eyes with his own, pulling away from the whore he was toying with, and fucking smirked.  

Like things were going exactly how he had planned. 

Red. And a loud gasp and then panic and a flash of arousal and all of a sudden you were running back to your chambers, falling to your knees over your empty bathtub and dry heaving. It was all too much. 

The shock, the fear, the jealousy, the fear. 

And it dawned on you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Ignoring your arousal–you cursed your body for reacting faster than your mind once again–panic continued to flood your veins like an ice-cold burn. 

Aemond had definitely seen you watching. But had he known all along? 

It made no sense. Did he see you that night when he moaned your name instead of that damned woman’s? 

You couldn’t even be sure how long Aemond had stared at you from his spot, his attention diverted entirely from the nameless woman, who whined and stirred incessantly at his distraction, to you. Caught like a thief in the act, wide-eyed and dazed.

Aemond knew. And he must have known the entire time. With the way he looked directly to you, as if he were waiting for you. As if Aemond knew exactly where you stood the first night. As if he had finally caught you in his trap.  

He wanted you to see. 

Aemond had already bested you at your own game with even more cleverness than you. Before you had even started to play. 

Sleep did not come easy that night. 

 

You were dressed and ready far earlier than usual the next morning. Even though you dreaded the worst - that Aemond had convened to have you punished for watching as you had, you let your scheme motivate you to take back the control you had lost. If you had ever had it in the first place. 

The dress you wore was hardly decent and it left you bare from your chest up, a wide slit running through the skirts. It was a deep green that had a shine to it and clung to your skin, making it clear that you had foregone your smallclothes for the day. 

For the sake of decency within the hallway, and because you detested the idea of either of the Cloaks at your doors seeing your attire, you donned a heavy cloak over top. It was Aemond’s; he had left it behind after breakfast once.

Aemond was still asleep when you had talked your way past the guard at his door and pushed through the doors to his chambers. You stood at the foot of his bed, tracing the place where that woman lay with your eyes. Quietly, you dropped the cloak to the floor.

It was your first time in Aemond’s private chambers. And would things have been different, you would have taken the time to observe all the things that made this space his. Instead, your eyes scanned every centimetre of every part of his chambers for any trace of that wretched woman. 

There was none. Not a single strand of hair. 

You sat at the edge of his plush bed, taking a moment to get your head straight before you stood and walked around to the side of the bed where he lay. The scent of him was overwhelming as you stood above him. 

“Well,” Aemond barely moved aside from his lips as he spoke. His eye remained shut. “Look who finally figured it out. Why are you here?”

You let out a drawn out sigh, shivering gently. “I would like to talk.”

Aemond sat up lazily and you noticed he was naked save for the sheet that covered his lap. From the way he was sitting, you stood in between his legs and his head was slightly tilted as he looked at you over the swell of your breasts. His hands found a resting place on your hips and you were hyper-aware of his touch, which felt heavier than boulders and hotter than lava. 

He looked at you as if he were ready to devour you. As if Aemond were a man starved of air and you were his only chance at breathing. 

The prince let out a hum. “Dressed like this?”

“Since you seem to prefer a whore over your own wife, I figured I would dress akin to one,” you kept your voice stern and stepped further into him so that his chin almost had to rest in the valley of your breasts if he wished to keep his gaze on yours. “If this is what it will take to have your attention.”

Not once did Aemond’s heated stare falter. “I think you are well aware of where my attention lies. What with your childish attempts at seduction.”

“I did not think you cared to take note.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Aemond said, dragging a finger up and down the side of your waist. He enjoyed the soft feel of the fabric and the way your nipples perked through the dress at his touch had him resisting a primal urge to bite. His patience had been astounding thus far but it was wearing thin. “I would have expected that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady such as yourself. You are a princess, after all.”

Trying your best not to squirm under his touch, you held firm in your hardened gaze. “You seem to enjoy whores.”

“I do not.”

You scoffed. “So you have been fucking her just to spite me? Or have you fallen in love?”

“Such filthy language from such a well behaved girl,” he mused. Aemond’s cursed smirk had you holding back from both cutting him and kissing him. “I never would have guessed that my wife is so full of surprises. It seems I do not know you as well as I believed.”

“Answer my question, Aemond.”

“I never fucked her properly, since you insist–”

“As if it makes a difference whether you fucked her cunt or her mouth,” you spat. He was maddening. “You are my husband. I should be the only woman you have in your bed.”

The grip on your hips tightened almost painfully before he brought one hand up to caress your jaw. Aemond didn’t hide the longing he felt, pulling you closer and admiring every inch of your skin tenderly. “If only you had been good and asked me nicely for what you need. Instead of acting like a desperate slut every time we were in the same space. Things could have been so much easier for you, my love.”

Aemond had always spoken to you with respect. And yet here he was, speaking to you as if he already knew exactly what sent your cunt wild with need. He harshly held your chin, forcing you to look up at the roof as he straightened, pressing his nose into the crevice of your neck. The tickle of his hot breath on your skin made you gasp and you felt the velvet of his lips smirking against your throat. 

“The whole time,” you panted, bringing your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. “You knew. It was-”

“Hm. It was for you.” Aemond let his teeth graze against the dip of your jaw. 

There was a fire alight on your skin. You could barely make sense of his words but you forced yourself to hold it together. “You are insane.”

“I was only playing the game that you started,” Aemond chuckled. “Only, I have played it far better than you. Perhaps we are lucky that you did not present more of a challenge, considering I was not above taking her on your bed instead.”

Fuck that. You despised him and loved him and lusted for him all at the same time. 

The control you had was slight to begin with but whatever little there was, it was slipping through your fingers. You threaded your fingers through Aemond’s hair–which was silkier than you had expected–and pulled him away from your neck. 

When you saw the hunger for you in his eye, the slight pink flush of his cheeks, a warm flood of invigorating energy made it’s way through your veins. You fought the urge to run your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his bicep–any part of him you could reach. 

You swallowed thickly. “You should have. I need only one more reason to cut her.”

“I shall have her hanged if that is what you wish.” 

For a moment, you thought you might scratch the smug expression off of Aemond’s face. You groaned, pursing your lips at his indifference and squeezing your thighs together at the passion in his eye. “Fuck you, Aemond.”

“I’m going to give you another chance. Ask me nicely to fuck you until all those doubts you have are replaced by the empty space I will fill your pretty little head with,” He pulled at your hips, so that there was no empty space between you, your torso flush to his chest. Aemond felt deathly tense yet strangely relaxed at the feel of you gasping against him. “And we can put an end to this contest. I do regret that I have left you, my wife, unsatisfied but I want you begging first.”

You watched him closely, challenged him with your gaze. There was no chance you would beg and let him win. The air between you was charged with energy, hissing and stinging. It became heavy and despite the way both of you were breathing so heavily, chests rising and falling dramatically, you couldn’t get enough oxygen to fill your lungs. 

The thickness in the air only became heavier as you gripped his wrists, and moved slowly so that you straddled his right thigh. Aemond fisted the thin fabric of your dress and when you lightly pressed your leg against the hardness at his crotch, you felt his steady breath against your lips which lingered above his own. The skirts of your dress rode up to your hips. 

Lavender, leather and him. 

“You want me to ask you nicely, my prince?” You purred, relishing in the way Aemond’s jaw clenched when he felt your bare cunt press against his thigh. It sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. “You want me to beg you to tear this dress off of me? To fuck me until I can no longer think of any word other than your name? To make me yours properly? Beg you to fuck me how you should have every night since our wedding?”

Aemond’s hands were grasping at the flesh all over your body, pulling at the fabric of your pathetic excuse of a gown until it ripped. There was a weight on his chest that only grew at the sight of your perfect skin through the torn fabric, your nipples slipping into his view. 

His voice was low and guttural. “The final chance. Be good and beg.”

“If you wish for me to be good,” you whispered into his ear, moving hastily to grip the back of his neck with one hand and the other holding his chin tightly as he had held yours minutes ago. He let out a strained sound through his teeth as you shifted against his cock, pretending to get comfortable.  “You should not have indulged in that whore.”

Aemond scowled at you. And he could have thrown you off of him but his hands continued to scorch the skin on your hips.

You realised you had never been so close to Aemond as you pressed a trail of tender kisses to his jaw. You were infinitely closer to him than all the times you had held onto him while walking the gardes or while he had bedded you with feigned disinterest. And you were aching with want and desire just as he was, your wetness seeping onto Aemond’s thigh. 

It was nothing in comparison to the rage that you had pent up. With a gasp you ground down on the strong muscle of his thigh, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Holding back a moan, you rested your forehead against Aemond’s and rocked your hips against him. 

You tightened your legs, well aware that Aemond could overpower you and have you under him in seconds. He was allowing you to have your moment and you pulled your hand from his jaw only for it to stay tightly locked as his fingers dug into your hips.

There would be bruises left on your skin for weeks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, almost groaning out loud when Aemond took control of your movements, pushing and pulling your hips so that your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. You think you can just do as you like and that there would be no consequences. That I would come crawling back to you so easily?”

A moan slipped from your lips when Aemond shifted his leg. You knew you were getting carried away, that the power you had over him was getting to your head but fuck. It didn’t matter. 

You dropped your hand to where Aemond’s cock pressed against one of your thighs, touching him gently over the sheet that covered him. It still surprised you just how perfectly big Aemond was, thick and hard in your palm. And then you held him firmly, rocking your weeping cunt against his thigh even harder when he groaned. It sent shock after shock straight through your core.

“Did you think I would be on my knees for you so easily just like she was?” You spat, whining at the pleasure that was incomparable to the way you had been touching yourself. Aemond hissed as you slid your hand up and then back down so slowly. “After those shows you put on for me, there is not a chance.” 

Countermoves. Aemond was good at them, even when struggling to even out his breath and regain his composure. “Tell me, which part did you enjoy the most? Was it when I fucked my seed into her throat? Or when was calling your name?” 

You gripped the back of his neck so hard, pushing your soaked pussy harder onto his leg. “Do not-”

Aemond hummed, his grip tightening painfully on your hips as he moved his leg in motion against you. He smirked when you shuddered, caressing your cheek with his nose as he spoke lowly into your ear once again. “I think I know. It was last night, when I had her on my tongue and thought only of how perfect your desperate little cunt would taste instead.”

“Aemond,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rolled your hips deliciously on his thigh. He let out a small, deep laugh at the way you trembled in his hands but you could hear that he was losing himself just as much as you were. “Gods.”

“I wish to know, princess. How many times have you touched yourself since that night, wishing you were in her place?”

You sucked in a breath, rutting against Aemond violently and he only pulled you in harder when you refused to answer his questions. Another moan. “Be quiet, Aemond.”

“Hm,” Aemond nipped at your earlobe. “Do you really want me to stop talking? You know that I can feel how wet it makes your perfect cunt. Desperate little slut.”

Whining and cursing him under your breath, you let yourself really look at him. Aemond’s sapphire eye shone under the early morning light that spilled in from the windows, his eye dark with lust and his jaw clenching as he watched you fall apart on his lap. 

Hips buckling as he continued to pull you back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness on the soft expanse of his skin, your legs failed to hold your weight and you had clearly resigned to letting Aemond take control of your pleasure. 

You were right at the edge and just as you started to ride out your orgasm, Aemond spoke.

“If you do not beg me,” he threatened. “I shall stop.”

“Gods, no–do not sto-”

Aemond held you still in response and no matter how you writhed against his grip, you couldn’t move. He was keeping you at the tipping point, smirking at the way you were gasping for air and squirming on his lap. But he was in no calmer state himself and you could tell his resolve was about to shatter. 

“Stand up. I want you on the bed,” He demanded. And when you didn’t move, he let go of your hip to lay a stiff smack to your backside. “Now.”

“No.” 

It was almost too easy and you snatched his wrist before he could return it to your hip, moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his leg again now that he only had one hand to try and control you.   

Aemond’s leg was slick and your clit was sliding deliciously across his skin. Fingernails dug into the flesh of your hips and you could feel Aemond’s frustration as he yanked his hand out of yours. But you blindly grasped at it again, shockwaves of white hot pleasure striking you suddenly as you came undone, your forehead falling forward to rest on Aemond’s as you let out a loud, drawn out moan. 

You shook through your orgasm, holding Aemond tightly. His cock throbbed against your thigh and you almost felt bad. 

“You should understand, my prince, if you continue to bring that whore to your bed then I am not above bringing another man to mine.” You struggled to catch your breath and your legs were still trembling as you stood, stepping away to pick up the coat you had dropped to the floor. 

Aemond glowered at you, his glare strong enough to have made you crumble before him were you not so high on adrenaline. 

“You would not dare,” he all but growled. 

“Have I not surprised you enough already, Lord Husband?” 

Aemond stood, the sheet falling to the floor, entirely naked and stiff against his stomach as he watched you don his coat. The anger in his voice only served to spur you on. “You will not leave. You would not dare to leave.”

“I am a princess, after all,” you looked at him over your shoulder, lip caught between your teeth at the sight of him bare, hard and infuriated. There was disbelief written all over his expression. “You will need to work much harder than that if you want me to give in.”

There was something new in the way Aemond looked at you. As if he was impressed. Admiring you, even through his frustration. And without giving yourself the chance for second thoughts, you walked right out Aemond’s chambers with a triumphant smile. 

[gagaewo]

BIG FLIRT | BIG JERK ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Synopsis: 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒙𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

cw: AFAB in mind, crack, fluff fluff fluff, suggestiveness, teasing, pet names (babe, baby, cutie), he can be a jerk when he wants to be, drug use (Mary Jane only once), masturbation (m), virginity loss, p in the v (wrap it before u tap it), squirting mention, oral sex (f), aftercare always a must!

wc: 1.9k

a\n: I'm supposed to finish choso x bimbo!reader, but instead I got side track and decided to write this to boost my brain up ^^. I'm very rusty so I apologize if it's not good, I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY :D!

inspiration: big flirt by lil hero

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI!

❀𝑺𝑭𝑾❀

Boyfriend!Satoru - is infatuated in everything about you; and when he means everything, he means everything! Heart-shaped eyes seeing you, however, state you're in. He's obsessed with the way you smell, look, feel, and taste. Makes sure you know you're the most beautiful thing his six-eyes laid on.

Boyfriend!Satoru - who enjoys seeing you become flustered when he gives you surprise kisses on your face. He'd grab you by your waist, shoulders, hands, neck (his favorite part to wrap his hands around), and give you a sweet 'smack'!The way you shy your face away afterward always boosts his ego just a little.

Boyfriend!Satoru - who's on top of you when you wake up most mornings. His body weight crushes you in, so you can't escape :P. Other times, he's behind you; muscular arms wrapped around your mid-section tightly, breath tickling your ear when he lets out soft snores. Snuggled in so nicely he never ever wants to leave, and gets whiny when you do try to leave his grasp.

Boyfriend!Satoru - Buys you an expensive gift anytime you accomplish a big goal! Got a raise at your current job? Congratulations he just bought you a fucking Lamborghini. Didn't like the model? Oh, it's okay he'll just buy you another Lambo, but the newest model (the one that's not even out yet), you quite literally can not deny such a gift either. It's not just cars he'll get you. No- it depends on the last thing you look at on shopping sites, and he'll immediately buy everything in your wishlist/cart. Why? Because you work so hard to accomplish your goals he just HAS to do something for you!

Boyfriend!Satoru - who accidentally got you high because Suguru brought him edible brownies. You also have a sweet tooth like Satoru - so you decided to try some! Which left you laying on the couch and staring at the ceiling for two hours. Satoru silently freaking out; giving you your third cup of water now. How many grams were in the brownies, you ask? 1000 MG. Safe to say you slept for a good 14 hours after that incident.

Boyfriend!Satoru - Play fights with you when you're in a low mood, hoping it will work to take your mind off the small stuff. With his great strength he can easily pick you up and gently slam you down into the ground, couch, or the bed; one thing he always does is place his large hand on the back of your head just incase he miscalculated, so you won't seriously get hurt ^^.

However, when you do get mad at him, he has a difficult time trying to understand your feelings. Sometimes, trying to be 'funny' when you're talking to him about something serious doesn't always work. So, Boyfriend!Satoru - who would do anything for you - buys you bouquets and bouquets of your favorite flowers (mixed with blue flowers that match his eyes), with the most adorable sad look in his eyes as he confronts you with a soft tone that he's sorry. Of course, you forgive him.

Boyfriend!Satoru - who really knows how to piss you off on purpose, even though he meant no harm; he just can't help but want to see the way you glare at him again. You know how he's a striking 6'3 "man? Of course, you're going to be shorter than him, and he takes advantage of it! Wondering where the cookie jar suddenly went? Oh, it's on top of the fridge. Pushed all the way in the corner back. Now you're going to need a stepping stool, or you're climbing onto the counters.

"Satoru! Stop messing with the cookies!"

"You know, it's getting pretty boring hearing you blame me for misplacing things~"

"You fucker you pushed it too far!"

"Did not!"

Sat on the couch comfortably, his eyes watched the way you stood on your tippy toes, your arm's reaching at the top of the white fridge- palm out trying to reach the cookies. He bit back a chuckle watching you struggle, but he admired the view anyway. The shirt you wore just slightly - your panties now in his view. Standing up swiftly, Satoru amble his way over with a growing smirk on his lips.

Letting out a huff, you cursed silently. You turn around to go find the stepping stool - only to be blocked by Satoru. His sweet cologne filled your senses. His hand - rather bigger hands than yours - gently placed onto your shoulder softly massages your muscle.

"Here baby, let me get it for you."

Brows furrowed, a smack echoed in the kitchen when you slap his hand away. "Why do this on purpose?"

Not bothered by the stinging sensation, His glossy lips pulled into a smirk. "Do you know why my sweetie?" He spoke in a sickly sweet tone.

His other hand, palmes your blood filled cheeks, caressing softly with the pad of his thumb. Face scrunched up, your cheeks hot, feeling more irritated. "Because you like pissing me off."

Hearing your grumbled response, he adjusted both of his hands, placing his palms on your cheeks, and then lightly mushed them. Letting out a deep sigh, his eyes dart everywhere on your face; observing the way your eyebrows still furrowed and your eyes glaring at his.

Grinning now, he leaned down, pressing a sloppy butterfly kiss on the bridge of your nose; earning a soft annoyed grunt from you.

"Forgive me for my little stunt, and I'll give you your cookies back."

You scoff, now avoiding eye contact with the blue eyed-sorcerer. You bring his hand closer to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. "I suddenly don't want my cookies anymore-"

Removing his hands from your grasp, he kneels down, wrapping his arms around your thighs before lifting you up. A shirek escaped your throat as your view of the kitchen looked higher. You were now leveled with the cookies. You didn't understand why he couldn't just grab it himself for you. But, alas, he loves showing off his strength to you.

"Get the cookies baby, I know you want them~"

♡︎𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾♡︎

Boyfriend!Satoru -, who loves to grope you anytime he can. His large hands on your body, anytime of the day - just grabbing at your sides, breast, ass, and thighs. (Pouts anytime you'd pull away cause the mf pulls that shit in public, too :P)

"Dont reject my love! I just want to hold you, baby~"

"Satoru, please, we're in the middle of the store, and people are looking!"

"They can stare i dont care- OOH, can we get some mochi ice cream?"

Boyfriend!Satoru - who was your first, who took your virginity sweetly. Who made sure you were comfortable in his king-size bed, his hand in yours interlinked softy; slowly rolling his hips into yours. Kissing any tears away, he'd stay still for a moment waiting for your 'okay'. Your pleasure will always come first before his.

Boyfriend!Satoru - who gets sexually frustrated when he isn't inside you for a day. Ever since you guys took it to the next level, he's been HOOKED and swears he'll never get enough of you. You underneath him or on your knees plays in his mind 50% of the time, the other 50% is your eyes and smile.

Boyfriend!Satoru - fists his cock thinking about you, letting out sweet groans into the echoed bedroom just thinking about you. He never felt so starved from your touch before till now, when you're busy or at your own place - he figures his dirty thoughts to himself. But that doesn't stop him from sending you pictures, videos, or whimper audios if you so ask nicely.

Boyfriend!Satoru - whose favorite position with you is probone. Addicted to the way you feel beneath him, he seriously couldn't get enough. The way your pussy clutched against his pretty dick so tightly when he hit that sweet spot always made his eyes roll into his head.

"Mmhmfm~...f-uck Satoru~"

"Shhhh just take it baby, yeah don't even worry I got you-"

Your hands clutching his white bed sheets, knuckles turning white as you moaned out. Your mouth in a 'O', panting just slightly; his cock so deep in you you felt it all. You felt the way he glided in and out of you at a settle but fast pace. A sudden whimper left your mouth when he'd suddenly quicken his pace up. Letting go of the bed sheet with one hand, it went flying to your mouth, letting it muffle your pornographic whines. Face burning up, you felt so hot.

Oh but Satoru didn't like that. He loved hearing every sound coming from your mouth, he lived on it as it was his oxygen. Leaning onto one arm, his now free hand swiftly- snatching your hand from your mouth. He then pinned that arm against your back, grip tight as he tuts, "Nuh-uh, none of that baby I wanna hear you."

Boyfriend!Satoru - makes you squirt at least 2 times before penitrating. It was a rule he settled (in his head, at least), so it would help you take him in better. And it did work, arguably working a little too good, because after that, he gets to savor in your fucked-out face. You wouldn't shy away as much anymore and let everything out.

Boyfriend!Satoru - who has denied your orgasm 4 times in a hour, to be fair he thought you deserved it. You were pressing your breast all in Suguru's face, after all. This was the outcome every time you pulled petty shit.

"Please please please Toru, lemme cum please im sorry~!"

"You're so sorry? Hah, what if I get Suguru in here and watch you cum on my tongue like a bitch in heat huh? You like him don't you?"

Practically sobbing, you shake your head, trying not to fumble on your words. Mascara running down your face with your salty tears, "N-No no I like you~ nngh please lemme cum!"

Slurping up his own saliva on your pussy, he gives it a slight slap before pressing two fingers inside your walls immediately. "You wait till im done playing with you. Got it?"

Boyfriend!Satoru - after a good fuck session he always treats you well. Pampering you with kisses and praises, making sure you were alright and he didn't go too far.

A kiss there and another kiss there, he litters your face with his soft kisses. You laid there, sweaty, hot and sore. Your muscles ached, making you hiss when you tried to sit up. Satoru who immediately took notice of your discomfort, gently pressed you down back on the bed.

"I'm sorry cutie I should've went easy on you."

You shook your head, a small smile appeared on your features. "I'm okay toru." You inhaled a deep breath, letting it out shortly after. Your mind was at peace but feeling a little worn out, you really could use a nap.

Pressing another kiss to your cheek, he got up from the bed with a small grunt. Aiming towards the bathroom to grab a wash cloth, not wanting you to nap in your mixed cum.

Coming back a couple seconds later with a pep in his step, he climbed back on the bed. The warm wash cloth startling you a little, than slowly you relaxed in his touch.

"Just relax baby, let Satoru clean you up, then you can rest, yeah?" He let out a breathy chuckle, taking in your post-orgasm glow.

Subtly nodding you let out a hum in acknowledgment, feeling yourself slipping into unconsciousness you then spoke in a soft tone, "Love you."

The warm wash cloth smoothly glided over your skin, wiping the cum off your pussy with caution. A soft giggle erupt in the room that came from you. Smiling softly at your laughter he sighed heavily, tiredness and in admiration of you. "I love you too."

do not repost on any other sites/claim my work as yours.

Copyright @gagaewo !!

[artificial-transmutations]

The wedding getaway

A mile in each other's shoes

"Oh, come on, you can't be serious."

Lance groaned and looked at Lisa, the bride's maid, who in turn didn't appear all that amused either, although for different reasons. She smiled a sweet and poisonous smile as she answered.

"Yes, I am, Lance. Dead serious. Apparently, you have no idea how difficult it is to find a hotel with enough free rooms on a Caribbean island in the middle of spring break."

Before Lance could answer anything, she continued with a sharp voice.

"Or how expensive. So, yes, I'm afraid you have to share your suite with one of the other singles for the duration of your all-inclusive stay. Deal with it."

Lance took a deep breath and fought down the urge to say something very inappropriate. Lisa was probably right, and he wouldn't die from having to share a room with one of the other guests for a few days. He would only go there to sleep, anyway.

"Ok, ok. No need to explode like that. So, who will be my... roommate?"

In an instant, Lisa had a list in her hand and looked at it until she found the name.

"Let's see... that would be Jamal, who also didn't arrive with a date. I trust the two of you know each other?"

"Jamal? Oh god, no! Why do I have to room with the n... with him? Isn't there any other option?"

Lance couldn't believe it. Jamal, really? Of all the guest, he had to endure Jamal?

"No." Lisa said firmly. "And now, if you excuse me, there are a thousand other places I need to be right now. Have fun and try to get along with your roommate, ok? I'm not gonna make any changes."

With a flip of her hair, she walked away.

Lance was fuming as he fingered the keycard to his room. This had to be a bad joke. Jamal and him... Let's say they never got along really well. And ‘never’ was quite a long time for them, actually. They've known each other since kindergarten and didn't get along very well even then, although they had arguably be friends back then. But ever since, their relationship became worse.

It wasn't Lance's fault, of course. That much was certain, he decided, as he drew the card through the door sensor. Jamal was just so...

The door opened and revealed the object of his disdain.

Black.

There was hardly any way to phrase it differently, Jamal had the unmistakable dark skin color of a dirty ... Black man. Lance didn't consider himself a racist, but the fact was that people who weren't white were less civilized, that was just the way it was.

"Lance."

Jamal's voice was just as dark as his skin as he glared at Lance. Unlike Lance, Jamal most definitely was racist. He was proud of his heritage and thought very lowly of Lance, no doubt because of his skin color. If things were allowed to continue like that, people like Lance would surely become even more oppressed by people like Jamal. He closed the door behind him.

"Yes, that's me. Do you have a problem with that?"

He approached the other man like a predator until he stood right in front of him. They were about the same size, and Lance could see the dark wide nostrils of the other guy flare.

"Yes."

Jamal spat the word.

"I do. What are you doing here, you white piece of trash?"

Lance gritted his teeth.

"What are you doing here, you filthy ni-"

Jamal's fist flew before Lance could finish the word and it was only due to the fact that Lance expected the hit that he could dodge and thus avoid having his teeth bashed in. He answered with a quick kick to the balls, and the two men began their brawl.

The fight was short and intense, but neither of them managed to seriously hurt their opponent. At the end, they sat at different sides of the large double bed, breathing heavily.

"Fuck."

Lance spit out a blood drop. Jamal had a surprisingly hard punch.

"Yeah, that about sums it up."

Jamal was massaging his wrist, and Lance guessed that his jaw would bruise pretty badly. He was more than surprised, however, when Jamal offered him his hand to help him up.

"It's no use, Lance. It looks like we're stuck together for the next few days, and I've got better things to do than beat your racist ass every time I go to my room. Truce?"

Lance considered the proposition for a few moments, before he nodded and grabbed the dark hand.

"Truce. At least as long as we're stuck in this room with each other, you fucking monkey."

A moment of silence followed before Jamal got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. From inside, he mocked Lance again.

"You know, Lance, you really need to learn how to control your racism. I bet the only reason why you're so angry about me is the fact that I have a big dick."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, asshole."

These were going to be a few long days. The wedding wouldn't be for another two days to give everyone time to enjoy themselves a bit. Originally, Lance had looked forward to this opportunity, but now it seemed like these days were going to be more of an ordeal than anything else.

Of course, there was no way he was going to sleep in the same bed as Jamal, and, luckily, Jamal agreed on that without argument and moved his stuff to the couch. They didn't speak a single word to each other this evening, and Jamal left the hotel room shortly after, allowing Lance some time alone. He was still bruised up and dirty from the short fight and took the opportunity to take a shower himself.

The water was somewhat soothing, and slowly, Lance regained his composure. He certainly wouldn't let someone like him spoil his vacation, and perhaps Jamal was right, and it was a good idea to just ignore each other as much as possible. He could live with that.

When he was sufficiently clean and calm, he left the shower and reached for a fresh towel, only to see a small article of clothing fall from the rack.

With some disgust, Lance noticed what it was: A piece of underwear, a pair of boxer briefs to be exact. It was previously worn, and Lance had no doubts who the owner was. Jamal must have forgotten it when he took a shower earlier.

Lance tried to ignore the unwanted textile as much as he could, but his eyes kept returning to it. Truth be told, it wasn't all that small. In fact, especially the pouch area was rather large, and the fabric looked like it had been stretched somewhat. Without really wanting to, Lance had picked up the piece of underwear and inspected it from all sides now. Frustratingly enough, what Jamal had said earlier appeared to be true. If this piece of underwear was any indicator, then Jamal's dick had to be fairly huge.

That only angered Lance further. Who did Jamal think he was, with his stupid large penis, mocking him? Did Jamal think he could impress him with that?

The piece of clothing had a slightly damp feeling to it. Most probably it was because of the steam from two showers, but was that really all? His body acted on autopilot when he brought the foreign item of clothing closer and sniffed. It was a bit musky, that was for sure, but he wasn't quite sure yet. He buried his nose in the front part of the pouch, right where the dick had been before and took another deep breath.

Oh, there it was. Definitely, Jamal's scent was embedded in the fabric, and the smell was stronger now. Lance felt a rush of shame and anger. Did he really smell the underwear of his black temporary roommate? That was disgusting. He was just about to drop the garment, when he noticed something else. His own -rather small- dick stood proudly at attention.

"What?" Lance said out loud? He was hard because of a man’s underwear? No, not just any man’s. Jamal's, his arch enemies if he had any.

No, this had to stop. With a quick motion, Lance pulled the underwear over his legs and left the bathroom.

Only when he pulled on his pants over the baggy and mostly empty cloth that concealed his erection, he took note of what he had done. Why had he put on the thing?! Well, now it was too much of a hassle to change that, he decided and closed his pants, pressing the damp sweaty fabric against his groin.

Luckily, Jamal didn't come back until late in the night, when Lance was already asleep. He half noticed the other man getting settled on the couch, but he was too tired to care.

When Lance woke up the next morning, he was covered in sweat and his boxers were uncomfortably tight. He groaned as the memories of the day before came back. A quick glance confirmed: Yep, the black man was still there, on the couch, and still asleep, as it seemed.

With a throb, his cock demanded attention under the sheets. It had been quite a while since he had woken up with such a severe case of morning wood, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He wasn't alone, after all. He couldn't resist, however, to reach down under his sheets to readjust himself.

Only when he felt the unfamiliar fabric, again somewhat wet, by his own sweat and precum did he fully remember. Right, for some reason, he had put on Jamal's underwear after the shower. And later, when he went to bed, he hadn't fixed his mistake. There was something else, though.

Lance carefully felt the outline of his cock. This wasn't right. The stolen underwear pouch was filled to the brim with a throbbing organ entirely unfamiliar to him. This wasn't his cock! It was much, much too large!

However, every touch on the large piece of flesh felt good, and he couldn't resist stroking the length stealthily, if only a few times. Why did this feel so good? Lance failed to fully suppress a moan, and saw Jamal stir in his sleep. He really had to stop this. Only perhaps one or more stroke.

Were before, when rubbing one off, he often resorted to only using three fingers to stimulate his length due to his tools size. Now, however, he found that his whole hand was unable to fully close around the shaft, and there was a lot of space for his hand to move up and down, too.

He threw Jamal another glance, but the unwanted roommate still seemed to be asleep. Perhaps he could continue just a bit longer, and perhaps pick up some speed...

This time, too, he failed to muffle his moan completely.

"Ahh, fuck, yes..."

He breathed as he pumped the thick organ faster and faster, using his other hand to caress his balls through the underwear, which felt unusually large as well. Not being able to keep it down any longer, he pumped faster and faster, through Jamal's underwear, until, with a loud groan, he shot a generous load into the fabric.

Lance saw stars for a moment, but the noise had apparently been enough to wake up Jamal, and he turned around on the couch and remarked with a sleepy voice filled with annoyance.

"Dude, what the fuck? Did you just jerk off?"

"Uhh, no. I was... not."

"Yeah, right. And I'm the president. What the fuck, dude? Couldn't you wait until I was gone or something?"

Jamal groaned and got up to go to the bathroom. As he was walking, Lance got a short glimpse at the other man’s groin for the first time. If one thing was for certain, his dick wasn't as large as Lance had suspected. Most of the front of Jamal's boxer briefs was obviously empty.

Jamal spent a surprisingly large amount of time in the bathroom, and when he emerged again, he was - as far as Lance could tell - pale as if he had seen a ghost. He didn't speak a word as he quickly got dressed and basically fled the room, leaving a puzzled Lance behind. What had gotten into that guy again? He shook his head and, finally, removed the sheets and pulled down his borrowed boxer briefs.

And then, he looked at his crotch dumbfounded. He had been right. It wasn't his dick, even though it was flaccid again now, it was much too large. However, that wasn't the biggest problem. Despite being too big, it was decidedly... Black.

And it wasn't just his shaft that was suddenly dark skinned. His balls, too, and the rest of his groin as well. When he turned in front of the mirror, he realized that even his ass-cheeks were a rich dark brown color now, and his pubes dark and wiry.

Lance's head was swimming. What in the world was going on? Was it an infection?

No, even a guy as biased as Lance knew that dark skin was not a disease you got infected with. He simply had no explanation for what he was seeing. Luckily, only his groin was affected. Both his legs and his torso were still as white as they were supposed to be. And his face was fine, too.

Lance shook his head. He'd have to get to the bottom of it, but that had time until later. Today, he wanted to enjoy the beach a bit. However, as he tried to put on his swimming trunks he noticed a problem with his new anatomy. Neither his swimwear nor his pants would fit without being extraordinarily uncomfortable. Not wanting to cut off the circulation to his now much larger tool, he glanced over to Jamal's suitcase. Judging by the pair of boxer briefs, Jamal's stuff should be about the same size, even though Lance didn't really understand why the other man brought clothes this big.

After rummaging through Jamal's belongings for a bit, Lance found what he was looking for. A pair of swimming trunks and a pair of pants that fit comfortably as he put them on without a second thought. He briefly considered fully dressing from the other man’s trunk, but decided against it and took socks, shirt and sunglasses from his own stash.

Finally, fully equipped, he went to the beach.

Given the time of the year, it was rather full, just as he had expected it to be. Nevertheless, he found a spot to lay down a bit and sunbathe, and soon, the warm rays had him relaxed.

For a while, nothing happened. Lance felt at peace, and his thoughts returned to the morning events. He was no stranger to masturbating, but it was the first time that he had felt the urge to do so while in the same room as another guy. Even stranger though, he didn't feel particularly ashamed about it anymore. So, what if Jamal had seen him? He certainly jerked off, too. Put aside all the obvious things that separated them, that was one thing they had in common. They were both men, and men had certain needs. Nothing wrong with indulging in them, right?

In fact, in the morning sun, his thoughts about Jamal were less hostile than usual. It was really hard to be angry all the time when relaxing in the warm seaside sand.

A few hours later, Lance decided to take a swim. However, as he wiggled out of his borrowed pants, he was confronted with yet another surprise.

Apparently, the dark skin had spread. Now, the whole length of his legs was decidedly dark-skinned. Lance shook his head as if he would be able to revert the skin color of his legs like that. But it was no use: The pigment was there to stay. This couldn't possibly be natural, or even healthy! He needed to see a doctor, right now!

Half-panicking, he checked his upper body but was relieved to see that there, his skin was just as milky white as it was supposed to be, as were his feet.

Against all logic, his panic subsided. Sure, he looked ridiculous like that, but it wasn't that bad. In fact, once he managed to look past the weird color of his skin, he found his legs somewhat better looking even, packed with lean muscles. It wasn't bodybuilder level, but a whole new level of power that he never had before.

Originally, he wanted to run, search for a doctor as quickly as he could, but now, he reconsidered. He might as well go through with his plan and swim a bit in the inviting ocean. He could look for a doctor afterwards.

The water was wonderful, and the feeling of his legs powerfully propelling him through the waves was intoxicating. Lance lost track of time, and it was only when his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day that he turned back, all thoughts of a doctor forgotten.

He grabbed his stuff and went back to his hotel room to change, but was surprised to meet Jamal in there, when he unlocked the door.

The other man was sitting on the bed with his pants at his ankles and was furiously beating his meat. When the door opened, he quickly covered his groin with a pillow, but there were two things Lance had noticed: First, Jamal's dick was really small! And, secondly, from the waist down, Jamal's skin was colored a bright tone of pink, a stark contrast to his dark torso. There was an obvious connection waiting to be found, something really profoundly easy, but it escaped Lance persistently.

Instead, for the first time in God knew how long, Lance smiled at Jamal briefly.

"Don't mind me, just carry on. I'll just get changed really quickly."

"O...okay." Jamal replied, obviously confused about more than Lance's statement. Hesitatingly, he removed the pillow and continued his work, his eyes glued at the other man.

Since Jamal was occupying the bed at the moment, and Lance didn't want to disturb him by accessing his own suitcase, without thinking too much about it, he grabbed a new set of clothes from Jamal's: A pair of socks, pants, fresh underwear, a shirt and a baseball cap. He got dressed and nodded at the furiously masturbating Jamal again as he left the room just as Jamal came.

Dinner was somewhat strange for Lance. His upper body, arms and feet felt all strange and tingly, and below the borrowed cap, his hair felt like it was shifting and changing. He was really hungry today and was glad about the all you can eat buffet.

However, the more he ate, the more the strange feeling took hold of his head and face as well, and with it, another urge awakened. Lance's thoughts consistently went back to the picture of Jamal masturbating on their bed. Say what you want, but that white boy really had a cute body. That was something Lance had always liked about Jamal James.

Lance Lamar felt his groin get tight again. It was difficult enough to find underwear for his large black python, but when he got aroused, there was hardly anything able to contain the beast of burden.

Finally, he stood up in all of his black glory and went to the elevator. Time to see if James was still around and was up for a length of his loving boyfriends large dick up his cute tight ass.

He was.

As he left the dining hall, Lisa smiled a thin smile and changed an entry in her list. Two less troublemakers and one more happy couple for the wedding.

What a great couple, in the end! After all, racism never pays.

If you like to read about another great couple, in a magical story, perhaps check out this novel!

[levshany]

Tandem, this is an AU in which the Collector possesses Philip, and there are a lot of things happening afterwards. but now we’ll just retell how it basically started

@angstyhikka drew a couple of arts and helped me with coloring

This is an alternative development of events after the ending of the fanfic “At The Dawn of The Light” (it's not finished yet, but there is already an AU from the ending, yes). The idea belongs to @lasymit, and I (Lev) picked it up :3

Before King's Tide, all events take place according to canon. And then the following changes occur: the witches capture Philip and lock him in a cave in the Titan's skull. The draining spell is stopped without the help of the Collector, but he himself is not found. His mirror remains lying at the bottom of the pit.

For 10 years, Philip was under a sleeping spell. Everything would be fine, but when the Hexside squad wakes up Philip to make him help them with one super important problem, not only does he become mischievous but he also has problems in his head now. Luz and the team think that Philip is manipulating them (you can't blame them for this, Philip is Philip, even with a leaky memory and a leaking roof, he manages to be such an asshole), and therefore they torture him to force him to cooperate with them.

While Philip was sleeping, a cozy corner appeared in his head, in which there was nothing but a green hill, a small house and an apple tree. There, Philip, in his child form, lives with Caleb, who is a figment of his sick mind. During his 10 years in this mindscape, Philip convinced himself that this was reality. And the Boiling Isles, the cave and the witches who torture him are an endless nightmare. Because, on the Boiling Isles, he sometimes remembers that he killed his brother. But this simply cannot be reality.

At some point, Luz and Hunter realize that Philip is not pretending that he is seriously ill and no matter how much he denies it, he needs help, and they soften towards him somewhat. Although both have rather mixed feelings towards their dementia grandpa.

Even in the moments when Philip remembers himself fully enough, his attitude towards the Boiling Isles, Luz, Hunter and even his own mission has changed greatly in any case. He no longer cares about the destruction of witches and revenge for his brother. Philip is tired. Deadly tired. All he wants to do is sleep. He slept for ten years, and this was perhaps the first time in decades of his life that he felt peace and happiness.

While he is in this state, it happens that he encounter the Collector. This is a difficult meeting for both of them, but it all ends with the forgiveness of all grievances. They both don't want to lose each other now. The collector is still locked in the disk, but Philip has the opportunity to let his friend into his subconscious. Seeing the deplorable state of Philip's mind, he decides that he must help - after all, Philip is still his only friend. Collie asks Philip not to go to "sleep" forever, but Philip replies that he has no joy in waking up here. All he dreams of is never returning to the world of the Boiling Islands. The collector, frightened that his only friend is about to leave him, possesses Philip and promises him that he will get them both out of this nightmare.

This is how Tandem's story begins

a huge amount of detail has been omitted to avoid spoilers for "The Dawn". if you wanna learn more go check the fanfic *wink wink*

[iovetecchou]

What’s Your Motive? ⧸ Wriothesley.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Summary: Wriothesley is fed up with you constantly getting arrested for petty crimes. It's like you're trying to get locked up just to annoy him. Perhaps a different form of punishment for your crimes is in order.

༞ Contains...! smut, hatefucking, use of handcuffs, fucking through the jail cell bars, no prep, degradation, name calling (runt, cumslut), one use of "good girl", reader refers to Wriothesley as 'mister', cumshot, facial, subtle fluff because i am insane

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 1.920 words.

kinktober masterlist!

"I told you not to break the law. More than once." 

Wriothesley deadpanned. His grip around your hand was tight as he took your fingerprints. You could tell he was concealing his rage, but the tremors coming from his large palm were a dead giveaway. 

"Aww! Not happy to see me again, mister?" You snickered, purposefully making the process more difficult for Wriothesley. You kept smudging your prints; he had to start over twice already. There was no way in hell he was putting up with your shit tonight. He was stressed, and your constant reappearances here only added to the dogpile of dread. 

"Guards, finish booking this runt. I need to make myself a cup of tea before I lose my mind." That last statement was more of a whisper to himself. But you were amused by it, regardless. 

"Who you callin' a runt, huh?" You gasped in faux disdain, bumping shoulders with him as you feigned offense because of his little nickname for you. Wriothesley's large palm squeezed over yours once more as a warning before he walked off. 

You clicked your tongue as you watched him walk away. You hated to see him go, but you loved to watch him leave. 

Wriothesley wanted to gouge his eyes out as he heard you whistle while he descended the dark hallway. He knew you were directing the catcall at him and him alone. Every time you came to Wriothesley's precinct, you sought him out. He didn't understand your strange requests to be detained by him each time, and quite frankly, he didn't care. 

But you both have been doing this little song and dance for months. You would get arrested for a minor crime, taken into custody for a few days, be released and repeat every few weeks. They were all petty crimes, proof enough to Wriothesley that you were committing them with ulterior motives. 

Wriothesley had the graveyard shift tonight, which meant lots and lots of tea was in order to keep him functioning, especially now that you were back under his watch. 

He was monitoring the security cameras as he sipped his favorite stress relief tea blend, nearly dropping his cup when he noticed you attempting to escape from your cell. Wriothesley sighed deeply, clenching his jaw as he shot up from his desk. Wasting no time, he made quick strides toward your section. 

On his stride there, Wriothesley's anger toward you bubbled up from deep within. Each passing step caused him to become more and more agitated. He recounted all of the encounters you both had over the months. He didn't understand you in the slightest, and that just enraged him even further. What was your motive? 

"Hey, runt. You seriously didn't think this pathetic attempt would work, right?" Your smirk grew tenfold from the sound of his voice. 

"Nope, just needed an excuse to get ya down here!" You giggled, tilting your head up to meet his icy gaze. 

Oh... he looked furious. Good.

He glared at you from beyond the bars, eyebrows ticked up in annoyance as he captured his cuffs. Wriothesley swirled them around his index finger before seizing them tightly. "Turn around and stick your hands out, now." 

"Aww, but you only just got here! I wanted to admire your pretty face for a little lo—"

"Now."

His stern voice sent chills down your spine in the best way possible. You finally got him to break.

You followed his orders. Turning your back toward Wriothesley, leaning your back against the cool metal bars. You extended your arms behind you, letting them slip through the spaces of the metal cell. 

Before you could question him further, Wriothesley cuffed your hands. Trapping you against the metal bars of your enclosure. You tugged against your restraints, tilting your head back and getting a glimpse of Wriothesley. 

"Care to tell me what this is about, mister? Doesn't seem like protocol to me." You quipped, shooting a playful wink at Wriothesley. All of your sass was knocked out of you the moment he slotted himself against the bars. You could faintly feel the warmth radiating from his chest as his hands slipped past the metal poles. 

"Keep fucking quiet, runt. There are other prisoners and guards here, you know. The world does not revolve around you." Wriothesley spat. Wasting no time tugging your flimsy pants and panties down your legs in one harsh tug. 

Heat rushed through your core as the cool air hit your exposed lower half. 

This was really happening? Fucking finally. 

"Oh, I really got your panties in a twist this time huh, mister?" You pressed your ass further into the cell, trying your hardest to feel him closer. Your smirk only grew when you heard Wriothesley fumbling with his belt. 

"I said, be quiet," Wriothesley whispered. You could feel his breath fanning over the tip of your ear as his hand crawled back through to grasp your hip. He hastily pulled his cock out of his confinements, slipping it through the cell bars. You choked on a whine as you felt the blunt head of his cock run through your folds. 

"Oh? Now you got nothing to say? Who knew all you needed was some dick to put you in line." Wriothesley spat, cursing under his breath as he gathered your slick. "You're so fucking wet, too. What, don't tell me this was your plan all along? Such a filthy fucking runt."

A choked moan slipped past your lips as his cock pushed past the tight ring of your pussy. Wriothesley quickly slipped his other hand through the cell bars, slotting his large palm over your mouth. "Shut the fuck up." He mumbled against the shell of your ear, slamming his cock inside you to the hilt. 

Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he filled you to the brim with his length. You could feel his thick cock pulsing inside you, his balls twitching from where they kissed the underside of your pussy. You had dreamt of this moment only a thousand times over, but the real thing exceeded your expectations. 

Wriothesley wasted no time pounding into you relentlessly, barely giving you a moment to adjust. You drooled all over his fingers and gloves as your shameless whimpers and whines slipped out. However, the more you cried out in pleasure, the harder he fucked you. 

"This pussy is so greedy, fuck." Wriothesley cursed, clenching his jaw tightly as he pulled your hips harshly to meet his thrusts. Your arms strained from the uncomfortable position they were in. But you couldn't care less. The feeling of Wriothesley's cock prodding your sweet spot overpowered that dull ache in your cuffed wrists. 

You desperately longed to see the look of pleasure twisted on Wriothesley's face as he fucked you. But his deep grunts and groans of pleasure against your ear were mind-numbing enough. 

You hardly tried to conceal your mewls of pleasure, too cock drunk to care if someone were to overhear. "If you don't shut that dirty fucking mouth of yours, you'll regret it." Wriothesley huffed, clamping his hand even tighter around your mouth. His thrusts were brutal. The sound of skin slapping against skin and the rattling of the steel rods echoed through the dark halls. 

Quite ironic. Considering Wriothesley was the one telling you to be quiet. 

If he wanted you to be quiet, then so be it. Your teeth sunk into the back of his fingertips, pulling a loud hiss from Wriothesley's lips. He chuckled deeply. Breath tickling the side of your face as his pace only quickened. The tip of his cock was nudging your cervix with each deep thrust. 

"Good," He paused, grounding his hips into your ass as deep as he could through the bars. 

"Fucking," Wriothesley pulled his hips back, tip nearly slipping out of your hot wet heat if it wasn't for the tight grip your gummy walls had on him. 

"Girl." He slammed himself all the way back in with a loud, wet squelch. Wriothesley calling you a good girl, paired with the feeling of his cock rubbing against your g-spot was too much to bear. 

You gushed around his cock as the coil within you snapped. Your teeth sunk into the rough material of his gloves as you came. Your pussy clenched and pulsed around his length as you struggled to stay up on your shaky legs. 

Wriothesley cursed under his breath. Quickly, he pulled himself out of your tight, wet heat. He swiftly undid the lock on your cuffs. You collapsed to your knees, instinctively pulling your hands back through the bars. You nursed your wrists, cradling them to your chest as your legs trembled.

"Look at me," Wriothesley demanded breathlessly. You slowly turned on your knees, eyes widening as you faced him. He was fisting his cock furiously, a wild blush coating his cheeks as his icy orbs locked onto you. You felt your pussy throb once more from the sight alone, bringing your hands up through the bars— desperately trying to replace his hand with yours. 

Wriothesley swatted your hand away before ordering, "Stick your tongue out for me, runt." 

Without hesitancy, your jaw fell slack. Your tongue darted out almost instantly as you drank in his blissed-out expression. Without warning, Wriothesley brought his dick only centimeters away from your lips. A deep groan slipped past his mouth as his first ropes of cum shot past his slit. 

You admired his pretty face as Wriothesley came all over yours. You swallowed every last drop of his cum that landed on your tongue, allowing the ropes that missed your mouth to roll down your cheeks. 

Wriothesley grunted as he shot the last of his load onto your face. He admired your filthy state for a few beats more. A smirk cascaded across his face before he let out a whistle of his own, mimicking your actions from earlier. 

"Wow... guess it shouldn't come as a surprise that you're a filthy cumslut on top of all your other crimes." Wriothesley deadpanned, leisurely tucking his now softening cock back into his pants.

"Oh, so now it's a crime to want to fuck you?" You chuckled, swiping some of his cum off your cheek before placing the pad of your thumb in your mouth. Licking it entirely clean. 

Wriothesley flushed, averting his gaze from your lewd display. He stifled a cough before muttering, "No, but I'm sure you and I just committed about a dozen crimes. Indecent exposure, public indecency, disorderly conduct— shall I continue?" 

"You do realize you just said we right, mister? Meaning you should be in this cell right alongside me. Come on, handsome, why don't you keep me warm tonight? You can come inside me this ti—"

"In your dreams, runt. Consider this your punishment for causing me hell for months. I won't give you what you want just because you're cute."  

Your cheeks flushed as you stood on shaky legs, coming face to face with him. "You think I'm cute?" You asked earnestly, a genuine smile pulling at your lips. 

Wriothesley turned on his heel, trying to conceal his embarrassment from slipping up and calling you cute. He stifled a cough, making slow strides down the hallway. You assumed he was going to keep walking without another word, and just as you began pulling your pants back up your trembling legs, you heard him shout, 

"Yeah, I do, so stop breaking the law. Then maybe I can take you on a proper date."

[sgojoenthusiast]

[talk]

cw: smut, fem reader, ‘baby’, orgasm denial.

What Gojo loves more than anything else is when you talk to him. Of course, he loves to hear your broken moans and soft cries when he shatters your stability and all means of functioning as a proper human being - yet what does that even mean if he can’t hear you tell him how good he’s making you feel?

Gojo will be driving himself into you relentlessly, nothing but the noises of skin against skin and your garbled words fading into stuttered moans sounding throughout the room when he suddenly asks you a question he knows that you won’t be able to answer.

“That feel good, baby?” His entire weight is pressed into your back as he breathes softly into your ear. It’s difficult to even think when his hips are moving at an unwavering and cruel pace behind you and his weight crushes each thought to its impending doom until there’s nothing in your head but the feeling of his cock pressing against that perfect spot inside of you.

Your lips part to answer and you try your best to find your voice to answer him. After all, you know what’s to come if you don’t - and with how close you are to finishing, you need to answer him and you need him to keep going until he leaves you with that snap in your cunt that sent you reeling and relishing in the intense, pleasurable feel. A splintered croak was all that left from your mouth as you tore yourself apart trying to find an answer.

Mentally, you kicked and scolded yourself. Why was it so hard to form even a ‘yes’? Why were you struggling so much to form so much as a syllable? Why was your boyfriend so torturous in the way he touched and played with you?

Soon enough, Satoru had ceased his unrelenting thrusts inside of you - earning a defeated cry fall from your lips. You took the opportunity to search for your breath and gain even a slight bit of basic comprehension back before you had been fucked dumb by him for good.

“I’m sorry, I thought I asked you a question, baby?”

Without a moment of realisation, you were flipped on your back and staring up into his eyes through hazed lids. Struggling to keep your head up and your eyes open, you attempted to find the words to answer one more time.

Gojo simply cooed at you mockingly, dabbing at the fresh tears from your eyes and the drool on your lips, his thumb lingering on the plump of your bottom lip. “Let me ask you one more time. Am I making you feel good, sweetheart?”

All you could do was nod up at him with closed eyes as a sigh that blended into a whimper fell from your tortured lips.

You could still feel the hardness of his cock pressing into you and practically throbbing inside of you, which alerted you to the fact that he was struggling to hold himself back just as much as you were. He wanted to move just as much if not even more than you did.

Fuck was he struggling to restrain himself, but somebody had to teach you to behave.

The hand that played with your lip slowly moved its way down to your chin as he took it into a firm grasp that had you biting your lip and pressing your legs together. You opened your eyes and the sight that was before you was breathtaking.

Gojo’s hair was dishevelled and messy, clinging to the glistening sweat on his forehead. His eyes, in contrast to the glow on his face and the typical brightness that would commonly radiate from them, had dimmed. He was looking at you with a seriousness on his face that you failed to see at any other time. Not even the severity of his job had such a look adorn his face. And whilst it would make his enemies cower in fear and retreat to a faraway corner - it only had your heart racing more out of lust and attraction rather than terror.

Seemingly, that look on his face alone was enough to knock some sense into you. “What have I told you about manners, baby? Use your words, and don’t make me answer again.”

Your breathing had become erratic and your heart was simply fighting to break free from its confines in your chest. Though your body’s reaction was hardly one out of panic as anyone else may think. You loved to see the fun, light side of your boyfriend who cherished you and treated you with nothing short of love, care and respect. The side that made you laugh and your heart swell. Yet, there was something about this side of him that could turn you on in a flash. The side of him that came out the minute you spread your legs, inviting him to let the restraints he had placed on himself go and take out all frustration on your poor pussy. This side of him made even a most respectable woman such as yourself want to give in to anything he asked from you.

“Yes, Satoru. You make me feel so good, please keep going. I need you to make me come, please.” You practically begged, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes and falling onto the pillows below you. You pleaded with him until that familiar smirk grew on the corner of his lips that let you know he wasn’t quite finished with you yet.

Before you could process his movements, your legs were thrown over his shoulders, and once again he was thrusting into you at a harsh pace. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on the white strands as your head was thrown back into the pillow from the suddenness of it all.

“Keep talking to me, baby. Don’t you dare stop.”

Although, from the way he was able to make your brain forget everything you’ve known since you were born into this world, you knew this would be yet another long night.

a/n: guys icl this is so bad but i felt like i had to post something and i like this concept lol. literally forgot all vocab tho whilst writing it or else it would be a lot longer. i hope you enjoyed anyway lol

[steventhusiast]

STWG daily prompt 7/12/23 (i'm late to this)

prompt: black eye

pairing/character(s): steddie

this is part 2, read part 1 here

-

"Yeah, I'm here. I got you, sweetheart."

Eddie's words bring about a lopsided smile to Steve's face, and then his eyes drift back to being closed. He doesn't look like he's asleep, but he's definitely not all there. Distantly, Eddie wonders what good shit they've got Steve on for him to not be sobbing in pain at every movement right now. His black eye is.. difficult to look at.

Once again, Eddie wonders what the fuck happened in the past forty eight hours. He turns to Buckley.

"What happened?" He asks, and Robin narrows her eyes and looks ready to attempt to interrogate him again, so he's quick to continue, "I- I know you have questions, but for now can you just accept that I'm here because I care about him?"

He hopes she ignores the way he's still absently rubbing his thumb in a back-and-forth motion over Steve's arm. Hopes that for now she can dismiss the casual intimacy, and not question why Eddie's one of Steve's emergency contacts. Not while Steve lacks the therewithal to make a decision about coming out or not.

Still looking suspicious, she nods once, and casts a glance to the other side of the room, where the two younger kids are sat together. Eddie follows her gaze to see the young girl is asleep, head resting on Dustin's arm, and Dustin has his eyes resolutely on the door, like he's waiting for a monster to burst through it. He doesn't look fully there.

"We were just finishing the closing duties at work and," Robin starts, and then pauses like she's going over the details in her head, "and there was a late shipment we had to put away in the freezers, but then a fire broke out and we got trapped."

Buckley is a lot of things, but a good liar isn't one of them. Even if she was a good liar, Eddie knows things that make that one sound implausible. Steve hasn't been missing for just one night. It's been two nights. What the fuck happened before the fire? And that's not even considering the logistics of Steve's injuries and how they happened.

"Don't bullshit me." Eddie says quietly, looking down at Steve again, "That makes no sense and you know it. Are you seriously telling me a fire give Steve a black eye and a concussion? These kids just happened to be there?"

His words have Robin looking incredibly nervous, and Dustin straightens a little where he's sat, looking to be actively listening for the first time since Eddie entered the room.

"You have to shut up, man. I don't know who you are, but it. Was. Just. A. Fire." Dustin says, eyes determined, but scared.

"I'm Eddie." Eddie pauses, considering a new possibility that frightens him even more than Steve's injuries, "Did you guys.. Did you get threatened? Whoever did this," he gestures at Steve's face, "are they making you stay quiet? I can help you. I know people."

Dustin sighs and goes back to watching the door, the frightened look in his eyes becoming something haunted. Robin bites her lip, and Steve cracks open his good eye to look at Eddie, tears welling up.

"They w're- Eds, you gotta j'st- leave it be." He tells him, and a tear slips out and down his face, no doubt causing the scratches on his face to sting.

"Stevie. Please. Who hurt you?" Eddie whispers, tears blurring his vision now as he truly takes in his boyfriend. He feels helpless, and he can't even provide comfort the way he wants to because it might not be safe. He doesn't know Robin, not truly. And he doesn't know the kids at all.

Steve makes the decision for him, lifting one shaking, weak hand to clumsily wipe away a tear that's escaped.

"'s okay, Teddy. L've you." He says, and Eddie hates himself a bit. Because Steve's trying to comfort him while he's laying in a hospital bed. Eddie raises his hand to cover Steve's where it still rests on his cheek, supporting and holding it there.

"I love you too." He whispers back after a harsh sniffle, and hears Robin beside him making a noise of understanding.

"Oh, you're his- right." She mumbles to herself, shooting Steve a look to which he gives her a slight smile of confirmation. Eddie raises his eyebrows at the implication. Steve had come out to her?

"Yeah. And if you have a problem with it, well. Like I said, I know people." He tells her, putting on his best bitchy smile as he slowly puts Steve's hand back to rest on the bed. He ignores Steve's noise of complaint to keep eye contact with Robin. He hopes he's being intimidating.

"No need for all that. I know Dorothy too." Robin replies, and Eddie just nods. Feels a bit of the fear inside him deflate.

And then Dustin asks a question, and the little girl at his side rouses from her sleep.

"Who the fuck's Dorothy?"

"Mutual friend." Robin answers, tone clipped.

"Okay. I don't know what I've just woken up to. Who's this wannabe-goth nerd?" The little girl asks, voice full of sass as she raises an eyebrow at Eddie.

How she went from dead asleep to awake-enough-to-roast-him in five seconds, Eddie doesn't know. He narrows his eyes at the insult anyway.

"Eddie Munson. Metalhead extraordinaire, for your information. And you? What's an eight year old doing here?"

"Erica Sinclair. And I'm eleven, you long haired freak."

Eddie gapes at her, and distantly hears Steve giggle. For now, cautiously, he thinks that maybe things will be okay. Eventually.

-

some people asked to be tagged or replied about wanting a part two so i'm tagging: @djohawke @imyelenasexual @y4r3luv @disrespectedgoatman @starxlark @f1inl3ey

[365granitegirlx]

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Things We Buried Low

Tags/Warnings/Head’s Up: Vessel x fem!reader, reader has tits and a pussy, gn pet names, newly established relationship, bit of a slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff that becomes smut, checking-in, fingering (f receiving), 69, cum swallowing (I don't shame but for sleep's sake don't do it if you don't want to or if you don't know their history)

A/N: this could be about anyone’s fav, but vessel is seriously my muse right now.

MDNI 18+

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“And who is this one about?” You ask softly as you look up from the leather bound journal. 

Vessel barely meets your gaze and sighs. The newness, and frankly, the rawness, of this relationship and your attraction to one another has reduced you both to nervous teenagers. But tonight isn’t one of those filled with soft giggles and kisses under the throw blankets on your couch; no, the evening has been spent sharing secrets…baring souls…revealing flaws. You know he’s hurt. You know there’s a past and an inner monologue behind those eyes you could never begin to imagine, but he said he wanted to let you in. So here you are…on his bed, cross-legged reading his poems and lyrics. Finally he closes his eyes and shakes his head. 

“Who it’s about…doesn’t matter much to me anymore. What matters is that I’ve left that part behind now. And that I’m here with you.” 

He locks eyes with you and caresses your cheek. You’ve learned to appreciate his vagueness, a stark contrast to your need to overshare. Before he pulled out his notebook, you had just finished telling him 5 years worth of trauma with tangents that made you both laugh and cry a little. You were embarrassed…but he held your hand the whole time…making contended hums when you’d remember something happy and then kissing your knuckles during the hard parts.

“Well,” you say putting the notebook on his nightstand, “it sounds like it was a difficult time.” You squeeze his hands in yours and take a deep breath. “I understand better why you…hesitate to open up. But…thank you for letting me in.” You lift his chin gently so he looks at you. The dim bedside lamp and filtered moonlight from the window cast long shadows on his features, but instead of tortured he looks ethereal. 

And in that moment…your breath catches. And so does his. Your thumb gently rubs his cheek until his lips part. Instinctively the pad of your thumb circles his pouty lips. It’s not overtly sexual. No. It’s reverent. At this point in your relationship you’ve only made out to the point of frenzy, grinding against each other and exchanging breathless sweet nothings between hot, soft kisses. 

“You’re safe with me, you know?” You whisper, you voice caught in your throat as your heart swells for the man before you.

His face finally betrays the emotion he’s been harboring. His breath shudders and he nods slowly…jaggedly, almost like he wants to balk at you. 

“Don’t take this wrong way, Ves, but…” you begin, but you’re distracted by his eyebrow cocking with some amusement. You chuckle softly and shake your head. “Just hear me out. Sometimes when we touch…you remind me of a stray…a rescue…who’s never felt a loving touch.”

“Am I that pathetic, little love?”

“Tsk. No. I just mean…”

“No, I understand. And…you’re right. To feel love…at least the love you give me…it chills me to the bone.” He gently tugs at your arm to pull you into his lap. You’ve never sat in his lap before and suddenly find yourself painfully aware of your weight. He sighs. “I want all of it.”

You relax just a bit more. Just a fraction.

“All. Of. It.” His spidery hands grasp your hips and presses your ass firmly onto his thighs. “If you are going to touch me…to pleasure me…to love me…I need it to the highest degree, darling. I crave everything you can give me.”

Of all the things that could be on your mind (like the heat forming in your center and rising into your belly, the way you’ve dreamt of being intimate with him, how delicious he looks right now, etc) what you’re focused on his word choice. What you “can” give. Not what you “will” give. He means to coax it all out of you. And you are beyond willing. But you know this is a big step so you broach your next words with tenderness.

“Ves, you set the pace, love. I don’t to overwhe—“ your lips are suddenly trapped against his. One hand holds the back of your head and begins to grasp at handfuls of your soft hair while the other gently guides your ass to grind in his lap. Eventually he pulls you away from the kiss by the nape of your neck.

“You’re so kind, little love, to want to protect me. But after tonight, I don’t want a fragment of dignity between us.”

With that he moves swiftly to pin you on your back. His lips find the crook of your neck…where your pulse and natural scent is the strongest. “So warm. So soft. Baby…” Wet, open mouthed kiss cover your neck and throat. You writhe underneath him, already surrendering to his need and affections. 

His kisses are rough and feverish. He’s been starved of this. There’s no denying it. His lithe waist presses you firmly into the bed…and for the first time you feel his bulge against you. You have done this to him. You have driven this man to near madness as he works quickly to remove your shirt. Gazing down at your naked torso for the first time, he lets his warm, skilled hands trail over your body with reverence. 

“Is this mine?” He asks, his eyes glued to your stiffening nipples as he gently cups your breasts. 

Your breath catches. “Body. Mind. Soul. Flesh. Blood. …it can all be yours, Ves.”

With that he presses his face into your breasts and peppers wet kisses and small nibbles along your soft mounds. You whine softly as his nose gently nuzzles one of your nipples.

“Please….” He whispers. “Please?”

You nod with wide eyes. He started so confident, so aggressive, but now he was begging for permission just to suckle from you. 

Pathetic moans fall from his pretty mouth as his kitten licks and soft kisses cover your nipples. “Love…my god…” His hand trails down under your shorts. “May I? Please?”

Your breath shudders with a sharp moan. He isn’t even touching your pussy yet, but it clinches as if he’s already bottomed out inside you. 

“Love…may I? Yes or no?”

You find your voice and push his hand to your throbbing clit… “yes.”

He lets out a deep, satisfied groan as his index and middle finger scissor your sensitive bud. You let out a slutty yelp as his firm fingers work to, basically, jack off your clit. 

“Fffffuck….oh my god…Ves…” you bite your lip and a shrill, pathetic moan cuts through the darkness of his bedroom. 

“Oooh…look at you, little love. Eager for my touch. Eager for my fingers,” he coos as he looks down at you with reverence and lust. “But what if…what if I…ahh…” he leaves you hanging momentarily and then presses his fingers firmly on your clit, massaging in big, slow circle. You hold onto his shoulders as your mouth clamps shut and your eyes cross from pleasure. You imagine you look like a dumb little slut but you wouldn’t know from how Vessel is looking at you. His eyes trail down you like you’re a work of art. Marble carved for him to touch. To taste. To behold. “Don’t you dare close that perfect mouth. Let me hear you.”

“Vessel…please. Please I need you.”

“Darling…am I not knuckle deep in you?” You look at him confused for a second but then he plunges his middle finger into your heat. The pad of his finger explores your wet, gummy insides and settles happily on your sweet spot. “Do I not have you already gushing on my hand?”

Oh how he teases you… You whine and a hot blush covers your cheeks as you realize you have to verbalize your fantasy. “I want your mouth.”

A dark look crosses his face. “Then we have something in common.”

He takes his finger from your cunt and brings it to his mouth. You watch, mouth agape and eyes glazed over, as he cleans your essence from his digit. You’re still watching him with a lovesick gaze as he stands up and removes his clothes. You’ve felt his abs through his clothes, but seeing them in the flesh is a revelation. You imagine kissing his stomach. Grinding your needy cunt along it. But it’s not until you see his cock for the first time that you feel a ravenous desire propelling you forward. You roll to the edge of the bed closest to him, looking up at him, asking for a treat. He chuckles and caresses your face, saying, “if I’ve been starved of loving touch…then you, my dear, are starved for cock.” 

You bite your lip and lean closer, hoping for a taste, before he holds your jaw, making your lips pucker. “Did I say I was ready for that,” he asks with dry condescension, “greedy fairy.”

You pout and roll ever to let him lay back on the bed. He makes himself comfortable, and you slip off your shorts and panties. He licks his lips as you strip—seeing your soft, squishy parts for the first time. “Fuck,” he whispers emphatically. 

He beckons you toward him, mimicking the same finger motion he did inside you moments ago. “Have a seat.” You prepare to swing your leg over his hips but he stops you. 

“Ah ah ah… how can I taste you if your cunt is down there?”

Loud and clear. You move slowly, your waist level with his face now; he nods and motions for you to turn. He wants your back to him. He wants your mouth taking his cock while he makes out with your perfect, squishy pussy. You settle with your thighs around his pretty face. You can hear him whispering praises and expletives as he kisses and nips at your thighs. “Ves…”

He stops suddenly, worried that he’s somehow upset you. “Yeah, love? Is everything ok?”

You chuckle softly at his concern and lean down on his body…your hand magnetized to his twitching, desperate cock. “Everything is perfect. I just…”  You want to finish your sentence but he’s already lapping at your folds. “Fuck…fuck oh my god…”

Your hand pumps his length as he lifts his head to bury his face in your pussy. He doesn’t even have to push your hips further into his face because they’re moving on their own. You find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to take his cock between your plush lips. He moans raggedly as his tongue fucks your tight hole, your slickness marking his face as yours. The feeling of his warm body against your curves and breasts encourages you to take his cock deeper into your mouth, the head gently grazing the back of your throat. 

For the first time in ages, your brain is empty. The only thing you know is giving Vessel pleasure and receiving it in turn. Your hips move to grind your clit harder on his tongue, a movement he not only loves but also encourages. The friction from his mouth is made infinitely more delicious as his moans reverberate against your cunt like a human vibrator. You disengage your mouth from his cock and let a long stream of spit fall onto its throbbing head. As you take it in your hand and fuck it the way you dream of riding him, you hear his moans turn into the prettiest whimpers and whines. You're encouraged by his noises…empowered. 

“That’s right sweet boy…you like getting stroked with a pussy on your face? Hmm? Is that good?”

You could swear he’s crying at this point. He has his arms wrapped your hips and his mouth stuck to your wet cunt. You laugh softly as imagine your lower half is a pillow and he’s screaming in it. “Oooh,” you coo “he's just so excited.”

Your teasing gets to him. He bucks into your hand and lets out a feral groan as he takes your clit in his mouth and sucks like his life depends on your orgasm showering his face. You let out a shriek in surprise and pleasure. “FUUUUCCKKKK. Aahhhhhhh yes….that’s a good boy. Fuck yes…make me cum…”

He whines back at you, hips bucking wildly, desperate to feel your warm mouth around his cock once more. You let another stream of spit glaze his cock before taking it whole and letting him fuck your throat as he sucks your tender clit. Just when you think you’ve gotten ahold of yourself, he lets a finger trace your entrance. The gentle tickle and pleasure pushes you over. You’re not surprised that something so small made you cum. You just knew he’d have that effect on you. 

You moan loudly around his cock as your pussy throbs and clenches out a powerful, toe curling orgasm. His own moans sound gravely and crackly. Just then, his hips buck, and you feel the hot stream of his cum fill your mouth. Oh to have his spunk in your mouth. Oh to taste his essence just as he tasted yours. You pull off and swallow thickly. Swinging your leg over, you lay your head on his stomach and look up at him.

“Love…little fairy…I am…so sorry for just…right in your mouth…”

You wipe the corner of your mouth, nary a mess to be found. “It was an honor.”

He chuckles softly and closes his eyes. “You’re both the death of me and my reason for living.”

His verbose description, even after cumming his heart out, makes you smile. You lean up and pepper sweet kisses on cheek.

“You know what I think?”

“Hmm?” He answers sleepily.

“We should see if any pizza places are still delivering…and curl up on the couch.”

He looks at you with hazy eyes. Finally…he feels at home. At peace. Safe.  

[rintoorou]

ALOHA, HAWAII — xvi. are you still the same?

(wc: 700-ish)

while you were dating suna rintarou, you kept a mental note about all the things you found interesting about him. you knew he liked his coffee sweet, not bitter. you knew he hated using the salonpas patches but put them on before training anyway. you knew he liked his jelly fruit sticks better when cold. you knew how much he talked in his sleep. you knew he could tie his sister's hair (not just in a ponytail). you knew he disliked stuffed toys and would kick them off your bed whenever you visited the beach house.

"i feel like i'm being stared at," he told you one night.

so it's your surprise that he texts you he's at a pop-up store, filled to the brim with beady-eyed stuffed toys, next in line at the counter. you patiently wait for him outside, watching as kids and teens and their parents flit in and out of the shop. you begin to wonder how much he's changed since college.

suna's with you after five minutes. "did you wait long?" he asks.

"not really," you reply. your eyes are suddenly drawn to the paper bag in his hand, the image of him handing it to his girlfriend back home briefly passes your mind. "what do you want?" you then ask, and suna becomes internally confused when he senses a slight sting in your tone.

he nods towards your feet, "let me see."

suddenly feeling self-conscious, you try to shift his attention to something else and step back. "what? no," you brush him off, playing it cool, "i'm fine. let's just go back." he raises a brow in disapproval yet says nothing more when you begin to walk ahead of him.

but it’s a little difficult for suna to ignore how stubborn you’re being, wincing slightly when he catches sight of the red patch behind your ankles. “doesn’t it hurt?” you hear him say from behind you.

“no.” your plain response drives him to roll his eyes at you, “why in the world would you wear shoes that don’t fit?” there's a little judgment in his tone, similar to when he found out you liked your americano with three extra shots of espresso on your fifth date; underneath it all, you knew that it was because he was just too shy to show that he cared.

you puff air out of your cheeks instead of giving him a verbal answer. two beats pass and suna decides he’s finally had enough.

you’re caught off-guard when suna pulls you back by the elbow, your shoulder brushing lightly against his arm. you open your mouth to say that you're fine and he's overreacting, but he doesn't let you.

instead, he shoves the paper bag in your hands before stepping around you. this effectively shuts you up, and you watch as suna goes off the sidewalk and makes for the convenience store behind you.

it doesn't take long before he returns bringing a small plastic bag with him this time.

suna stretches his arm out towards you, telling you to take it, simultaneously reaching back for the paper bag. you accept it with thanks, but your eyes still flicker towards his with hesitance.

he tilts his head to the side, the corner of his lip quirking up in amusement. "what? do you need me to put it on for you too?" he teases, prompting you to pull the plastic further away from him even if he makes no move to grab it.

you deny how your heart skips a beat and mask your feelings with a sarcastic smile. "you read me so well," you say, opening the box of bandaids. in response, suna puts his hands up in mock surrender, "be worried if i don't."

he watches you intently, snickering when you make an offhanded comment about his design choice. "snoopy? seriously?" you rip the white paper off the adhesive at once, "you couldn't have gotten the transparent ones?"

when you're finished, you pack the bandaids into your bag before continuing your walk with suna. your ankles still sting but the pain is manageable with the bandaids.

"didn't know you and reiko still talked," suna muses after a few moments of silence. he notices the little smile that paints your lips at the mention of his younger sister, "yeah, we do."

you then turn your head to him with your brows furrowed, but look away just as quickly, "she didn't tell you?"

"nope," he answers, popping the 'p'.

you catch his attention when a small laugh escapes you. "good girl," you hum. suna rolls his eyes at this—you know he knows that you're deliberately withholding information about your topics with his sister—but a smile similar to yours graces his lips nonetheless.

"'she's a brat' is what you mean."

"wonder where she gets that from."

prev — masterlist — next

notes next chapter is gonna be another college!sunayn post so stay SEATED

tags @ilyless @strxwberri-s @bbybibi @milesmoralesluvs @hanniemylovelyquokka @nbcvs @crispchocolates @cnnmairoll @trash-master-3000 @tojirin @ryuverse @megumiif @chemiru @theycallmenanamisgirl @neoclb @krissiekris @nyxlai @tsukiran @frvppe @le000xxgrd @kr1nqu @kunihaver @toges-cough-syrup @myromanempiree @baskin-robinhoods @jeongintwt @itsdragonius @moucheslove @ichcocat @miiyas @samuel1004 @reignsaway @sonicsolos @httpshoyo

[seraphinitegames]

Hey Sera! Not so much a question as some well deserved praise. Just wanted you to know I literally started book one on sunday and stayed up until 2am last night to finish Book 3. I have become a big fan in a super short amount of time! XD Love your work and can't wait to check out the demo! And please, our most benevolent liege, have mercy on us poor A-romancers 🙏

Aah, thank you SO much! I'm so happy you enjoyed it! I'd say it's not good to stay up so late for playing…but I do the exact same thing, hehe! ;D

A-mancers will certainly hopefully get their fix in Book Four! I really want this book to be a seriously romance-heavy one, especially before the drama and extreme angst of Book Five!

So even though A isn't at the point yet to just give in, they did admit they have feelings at the end of Book Three, and it's difficult for them to just shove that away again so soon…especially with this villain supernatural running around making advances on the MC, hehe!

Thank you so much again for the amazing message! <3

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: I would like to request a Jenson Button x driver!reader they have been rivals since their karting days and Jenson has been crushing on reader for years. He flirts with her every chance he gets but she's completely oblivious to it since she thinks he's just doing it to distract her from the race and she hates him for it since she's not taken seriously by the drivers and reporters because of it. So Jensen wins the championship and he throws a big party with the team. Reader attends to congratulate him so they partied and they have a heart to heart conversation in which they finally confess their feelings to each other.. (anonymous)

Word Count: 1120 words

(author's note: i can't tell if this is bad or not, i've been slightly stressed out due to my job so i hope the jenson girlies enjoy this 🥹)

When Jenson began carting at a young age, he thought he would walk away with trophies and medals. He did get both of those things, but he also developed a crush on a girl who was convinced he hated her.

Y/N L/N was the bane of Jenson’s existence. He would say his rival if anyone asked him what she was to him, mainly because he was far too embarrassed to admit that he was completely and utterly in love with her.

Both Jenson and Y/N had successful carting careers and, despite their rivalry, made it to Formula 1 at the same time. Jenson signed with Williams and Y/N signed for Red Bull. Although the pair were much older now, their childhood competitiveness had followed them into F1 which caused many disputes between the two drivers.

Their careers in motorsports flourished and Jenson moved to Brawn GP, where he would unknowingly win the Championship. But the longer Y/N stayed in Formula 1, the more unbearable the reporters became. Question after question about her and Jenson, their ‘relationship’ and if being a female driver was more difficult.

It was the final race of the 2009 season and the Abu-Dhabi air was stifling. Y/N stood outside the Red Bull garage, holding a microphone for the interview that was about to begin.

“So, final race of the season. Are you nervous?” The interviewer asked.

“Well, I’m nervous before every race if I’m honest. The last race of the season is worse though because the stakes are always so much higher.”

“How do you feel about Jenson’s position in the Championship? If he finishes in the points this race he’s pretty much guaranteed a win?”

“What does Jenson have to do with me? I’m glad he’s performing well but that doesn’t affect me at all. I’m my own driver, not an extension of Jenson.”

“Right, sorry I apologise.”

At that moment Jenson walked past and was caught by the cameras. When he realised it was Y/N being interviewed he turned around and smiled at her.

“You look gorgeous today Y/N, it's gonna be hard for me to concentrate on the race knowing you look that good!” Jenson shouted over at her, throwing her a wink at the same time.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the spot, she knew all too well what was coming.

“Do you think it’s fair that your gender can become a distraction for the other drivers, especially ones who have important races coming up?”

Jenson was mortified, he didn’t realise that his stupid joke was going to cause the interviewer to ask such an inappropriate question.

“I was only joking around, she isn’t actually a distraction to us. Y/N deserves to be here as much as the rest of us-”

“I’m finished with this interview, thank you for having me,” Y/N stated, passing the microphone back to the interviewer. She disappeared into the garage, leaving Jenson outside with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Before they knew it, all the drivers sat in their cars, lined up and ready to race. The lights went out slowly and they set off. It was an exciting race throughout and by the end, Sebastian came out on top, followed by Y/N and then Jenson.

However, the amount of points gave Jenson his first Championship win, and he couldn’t be happier. Of course, all the journalists, reporters and interviewers forgot to congratulate Y/N on her P2 finish. She was overlooked. Again.

Celebrations were in full force for Jenson’s win. His house was packed with drivers and team staff and the sound of music and cheers filled the room. Drinks were flowing and the evening air was cool as it seeped into the room through the open patio doors.

Y/N had turned up to the party, but only because Sebastian had forced her. Part of her was cheering for Jenson but another part of her remembered how he had toyed with her feelings all those years. She moved through the masses of bodies and grabbed a drink.

Eventually, the pounding of the music and heat from the people became too much and Y/N headed outside onto the balcony. She took a deep breath, allowing the bitter air to fill her lungs. Gazing at the sun that had begun to set, she didn’t realise she was no longer alone on the balcony.

“Congrats on P2, you drove incredibly,” A voice said, cutting into the silence.

Y/N spun her head around, her face dropping when she realised it was Jenson.

“Oh, thanks. I should be congratulating you though. How does it feel to be a World Champion?”

“Pretty good, I’m not gonna lie. While I’m here, I just want to apologise for earlier. I didn’t think before I spoke and I didn’t realise that my stupid, distasteful joke would make you be treated like that.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it. It’s nothing new, questions like that have been asked since our karting days.”

“It’s still not right. Especially when everyone thinks my feelings for you are just a joke.”

Jenson froze after he realised what he said. Y/N’s eyes widened as she looked up at him.

“You- You like me? You’re telling me that you’ve been telling the truth all along?”

Jenson scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you, but yeah. I like you. I have since our first kart race. I knew the minute we built up our rivalry that I wanted to be more than friends. But all this time I thought you hated me. So I kept quiet-”

“Jenson.”

“I didn’t know how to speak to you about it. I also thought you would reject me and I didn’t want the media to scrutinise you more than they already do. I just-”

“Jenson!”

Jenson stopped his rambling at the sound of Y/N’s raised voice.

“I like you too. I can’t believe I thought you were pretending to like me all along.”

Staring intently at each other, Jenson leaned down and closed the gap between the pair. He captured Y/N’s lips in a soft kiss and she smiled into it. When they finally pulled away, Y/N wrapped her arms around Jenson’s middle and squeezed, enveloping him in a hug.

Jenson leaned his head onto Y/N’s and the pair stayed tangled in the warm embrace of each other as the sun finally disappeared and was replaced by the moon. Stars twinkled in the sky, but nothing shined brighter than the smile on Jenson’s face as he looked down at the girl he had pined for all those years.

[princessbrunette]

John b letting puppy reader paint his nails even tho she has shaky hands and paints outside the nail bed <3 (projecting)

૮ • ﻌ - ა ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“you know i don’t know if this bright pink is my colour, pup.” john b squints one eye with a sly smile, the expression telling you everything you needed to know — that being he really didn’t care what colour you chose for him.

“its my favourite, therefore its perfect. because you’re my favourite too.” you explain matter of factly as you unscrew the top, the dried paint on the inside making it momentarily hard to unscrew before you cracked it, grabbing his hand with your clammy one and laying it on your thigh. “you have to stay really still.” you instruct in a quieter tone, locking in with wide eyes as you dip the brush into the paint.

“still as a statue, got it.” he nods with faux seriousness, unable to wipe the adoring smile off his face as he places all his concentration into watching you instead. his eyes flicker down to his nails when he feels the cool paint breach his skin, the shakiness of your hands making it difficult for you to keep the paint on his nails alone. “oh, whoops.” his voice rumbles from above you.

you ignore this, continuing on with your job — tongue tucked between your lips in concentration, quietly humming under your breath.

after finishing up on one hand, you hold his palm up into the light to get a better look before folding slightly in frustration, face crumpling just a tad. “god, i messed it up so much.”

“hey, that’s alright. i think i like it better like this. looks more rugged and manly, y’know.” he nods and your eyes flicker to his, a small smile biting at the corners of your lips.

“umm, whatever. your nails are barbie pink, i’m not sure if rugged and manly is the vibe.” you let a giggle slip before leaning forward to blow at his nails to help the drying process, a few flecks of spit gracing his hand as you puff your cheeks out to do so.

“wow, puppy seriously it’s 2024. of course barbie pink is manly.” he sarks, eyes focused on making sure the nail paint bottle didn’t spill on your lap. “careful, sweetheart.”

your head raises, spitty lips smushing against his suddenly like you’d had a sudden wave of affection for your boyfriend. he cups your cheek with his non painted hand, smile curving against your lips. “and now you’re kissing me? kinda unprofessional for a salon if you ask me. think i wanna talk to your manager.” the mirth is evident in his voice and you giggle in retaliation, clambering onto his lap — your boyfriend saving the polish from being knocked over as you do so.

“‘kay… my managers in my pants. you gotta take them off if you wanna speak to her.” you laugh delightedly against his mouth, clashing teeth and he chuckles, lifting his chin for a moment to escape the kisses, hands carefully finding your waist.

“wow, okay.” he sarks, only making you giggle harder, kissing his jaw and writhing on his lap a little. “gonna get nail polish on your clothes, messy girl.”

you calm a little from your giggle attack, the arousal settling in. “s’okay daddy.” the change in your voice clear, becoming more slurred and needy as the moments pass. he centres in, realising that you really do need him now. the daddy nickname meant it was go time, and suddenly he didn’t care too much about having one set of unpainted fingernails.

૮ • ﻌ - ა ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[ruewrote]

𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑.

PAIRING: evan buckley x fem!reader WARNINGS: blood, reader getting injured GENRE: angst, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: departure by jaron WORD COUNT: 1.1k

navigation

you had just finished shutting the doors of the ambulance, giving it two loud bangs for them to drive before re-joining the crew.

"another great save guys, good job!" bobby says as he pats eddie on the back, walking over to ready the engine.

"god im hungry!" he blurted out and you just laugh, "what?"

"i just seriously don't understand how you're hungry after all of that," if anything you felt incredibly nauseous.

that's when you felt the sharp hot pain in your side, suddenly finding it hard to stand, it had become apparent that your adrenaline had worn off.

falling to your knees as you cried out in agony. your hands pressed to the hurt area, pulling it back to find your hand soaked in your own blood.

buck worriedly rushed to your side, his hands gently pushed your shoulders back so you laid out flat on the ground. only to find the cause of your discomfort was a large piece of glass was sticking out of your stomach through your jacket.

his first thought was to curse you as you had recklessly climbed through the windshield when you helped the young woman out of the recent car wreck, only for her to be okay and for you to get injured yourself.

he rummaged through his medical bag for something to stop the bleeding, struggling but finally found the right supplies. using his teeth to rip open the packaging before putting pressure around the glass making you groan out in pain.

"i know, i know sweetheart. you're gonna be okay." no words left you just sharp little breaths as you lightly gripped onto bucks arm, trying to give him some sort of reassurance.

he screamed out for the rest of the team, voice breaking as tears streamed down his face. the glass was deep like really deep, all evan could think about was you and if anything had been nicked internally.

bobby and eddie ran over to the two of you, you could hear one of them call for another ambulance as soon as possible. something about a firefighter down, but all you could focus on was how cold you had gotten.

"buck i don't feel s-so goo-d..." for the first time in a long time you were afraid.

"they're on their way, you gotta hold on for me, please!" he begged as he smoothed the hair that had fallen across your face with his spare shaking hand, the other still tightly pressed against your wound.

shakily you lifted your hand to brush his tears, your thumb very slowly caressing his cheek. "you'll be oka.."

the pain was all too much, it was too difficult to keep your eyes open. evan shook your face, "no. no you've got to stay awake! i can't lose you." he shouted, as eddie pulled him away from you. the paramedics put you on the gurney rushing you into the back of the vehicle immediately hooking you up to multiple medications.

bobby and buck shared a look, the captain gave him a swift nod, that's all it took for him to jump into the seat next to you. grabbing a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly in his own as you made your way to the hospital.

beep. beep. beep.

your vision was blurred as you opened your eyes, first seeing the heart monitor and the dark sky that peaked out from behind the wonky blinds. the hospital was quiet, a little too quiet for your liking.

you turned to your other side, finding a sleeping evan in what looked like the most uncomfortable chair with a blanket wrapped around his body.

a smile tugged at your lips, he stayed with you. your smile soon fell realising the last thing he saw of you conscious was you nearly bleeding out in his arms.

readjusting yourself was harder than you thought, grunting at the pain, holding your side.

buck woke up startled, jumping up to help you lay back down.

"that was one way to get your attention," you laugh before wincing.

"you've got to be careful, that glass got you good." he says as he straightened out your blanket.

he was trying to not show his worry, you had known him far too long to see through that. "buck, buckley!" you whisper yelled, grabbing his hand, pulling him close to you the best that you could.

everything fell still. his bigger hand intertwined with yours.

"i was so worried," his voice wobbled, it was only loud enough for you to hear.

"i should've stopped you, if i did you wouldn't be here right now."

you squeezed his hand, looking up at him. "you know you couldn't have stopped this, ev."

tugging on his hand to bring him closer to you, shuffling over in your bed, patting the small amount of space next to you. "hop in?" you questioned with a smile.

"there's no way there is enough room on that thing for the both of us!" he exclaimed

"well you better squeeze in then."

and so he did, your bodies pressed up against one another. only after buck extensively checked that he wasn't hurting you or laying on any tubes.

you were now both settled face-to-face, hearing nothing but each others breaths and the beating of your machine. your heart rate elevated when he leaned in closer to run his fingers through your hair.

feeling your face heat up, closing your eyes, embarrassed how a simple action could do that to you, let alone him being able to hear it. the sound of him chuckling worried you. but the feeling of him going back to gently brushing the stray hairs out of your face comforted you.

"i know we deal with close calls every single day, but i... god. all i could think about when they took you away was all the things i hadn't told you yet."

your eyebrows furrowed and eyes reopened, "what things?"

"uh, well things like 'i love you' and also to let you know that 'you stink'," he laughed as you playfully punched him in the arm.

"hey, ow!"

"took you long enough." you exaggeratedly sighed whilst trying to keep a straight face.

"you knew?!" he exclaimed as he sat up still looking for answers.

laughing at his reaction as you held your bandage, "no, you c'mere!"

he scooped you up in his arms, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, laughter now gone. he leaned in close, his lips brushed softly against yours. smiling into the kiss you pulled him closer to you.

you stayed like that for a while, cuddling, kissing and talking. that soon came to a stop when you fell asleep listening to evan's voice, he only realised this mid ramble. pulling the covers up over you, closing his eyes, slowly wrapping his arms around you. not before giving you a kiss on the forehead of course.

© ruewrote.

[forcemeanakin]

Hot take: trainer!Anakin

but hear me out!!!!! trainer!Anakin as a boyfriend would be the coolest and sexiest shit ever. Proof right here:

NSFW content included

-Jogging after morning cuddles

-He would wake you up with tons of kisses just so you would feel motivated to go out with him

-if you were feeling extremely lazy that morning, he would have to use a stronger tactic eating you out

-He would use you, yes you, in his own routine. Whether it was dropping a kiss on your lips after every push up he completed, or using you as weight during his hip thrusts. Anakin Skywalker would use you as his muse in every single area of his life, this included.

-Not gonna lie, depending on your personality, your joined visits to the gym would quickly become a competition. He loved that about training with you, it made it more fun.

-He's still salty about that time you made more squats than him

-But he's not actually pissed because he's just too delighted with the results of the exercise on your ass

-He loves your ass

-He loves publicly groping your ass, sending a message to all of the gym bros that thirst over you

-You would scold him after he squeezed your bumcheeks, or after he smacked your ass in front of someone but you secretly liked that caveman part of him

-Also I feel like Anakin is obsessed by how your thighs look after you just finished doing a lower body exercise. All firm and fit. Ready to pop.

-And viceversa. Whenever he stopped doing his quad exercises, the only thing your brain could process was riding his thigh back home oops (that one hits too close to home)

-Sometimes you would take separate paths, given that your target areas were so different. While you were at the spinning machine, he would be at the other side of the facility, bench pressing your weight. As a warmup.

-Honestly drooling over your boyfriend was half the experience of being at the gym. He would sometimes catch you all embellished and shit, and he would wink at you with an arrogant smile

-As a trainer, Anakin would be tough. Physical excellency is very important to him. He is ruled by the philosophy that our bodies are temples, so he is very fit and shit. Exercising is no exception to his perfectionism and stubborness. In fact, he takes his job of making you healthier very seriously.

-You want to skip a set? He just added one more. You are not pushing yourself to pick up a heavier weight, even when you know you can? He is adding ten more reps. And don't even get him started on avoiding a specific type of exercise. You are doing the burpees, even if that takes all day long.

-General Skywalker = trainer! Anakin

-But also I think he would be very sweet if he knew you struggle with exercising. Maybe you had a difficult relationship with your body and/or felt insecure by training in a public space; he would help you make amends with the situation and be patient with you

-we all know what you two would do as cardio. Henry Cavill said it first

-finally, the ultimate reward for dragging your ass out of bed and to the gym (instead of sleeping) was to see Anakin fresh out of the shower with a compression black shirt and grey sweatpants.

GOD I COULD DO A HUNDRED OF THESE. AS A GYM RAT MYSELF, THIS IS THE DREAM.

[buccini555]

𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

𖥻 H e a d c a n o n s!

⁀➷ They react to you suspecting you are being cheated on after seeing them talking "affectionately" to someone else

↻ 𝑭𝒕. Manjiro Sano, Kazutora Hanemiya, Baji Keisuke, Mitsuya Takashi, Takemichi Hanagaki, Izana Kurokawa and Kakucho Hitto

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨

Manjiro would definitely feel uncomfortable knowing that you believed he would be capable of cheating on you

"What the fuck kind of guy do you think I am?" He would say upon hearing your words, no matter how much he was completely irritated by such distrust, he would try to maintain control so as not to hurt you, he would not betray you under any circumstances, and if he did, he would break up with you and let you know.

"I would never do that, I would never cheat on you, I don't know how you came to that conclusion, but, I wouldn't do that." He would try to find out what caused such distrust and change any type of behavior that was making you jealous.

𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚

Kazutora would be hurt by such distrust, as he never intended to cause you such "insecurity"

"Me cheating on you? What a bad joke, huh?" Kazutora would be incredulous at such distrust, since in his eyes he had done nothing wrong and everything was unfair.

"As much as I was offended by this, I understand... Tell me the reason for such distrust, I will change." He would take your jealousy seriously, Kazuto would never hurt you, hearing you distrust him really made him more aware of the way he behaved.

𝐁𝐚𝐣𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞

Baji wouldn't take your distrust seriously, he wouldn't even care about your words since his conscience would be completely clear

"I know I'm not the best boyfriend in the world and I'm far from being, but cheating on you would be too much" Even though Baji was a bit of a difficult person to deal with, he was always extremely sincere in his words, Keisuke visibly became surprised and disappointed by such an accusation, he spent some time without talking to you, as the days went by he forgot about this incident, despite not having taken your distrust so seriously, he began to pay more attention to his own behavior.

𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢

Mitsuya would NEVER betray you, he would be worried about your distrust, so he would talk and be very clear with you

"Me betray you? I would never be that coward!" Mitsuya would say immediately upon hearing his words, he would try to remain calm at that moment, as he didn't want to make you hurt even more.

"I didn't enter into this relationship with you without purpose... I love you and I would never break our trust, tell me what made you think that, I'll change, I'm sorry!" Mitsuya would hug you and tell you as sincerely as possible, regardless of what caused you such distrust, he would change that fact.

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐤𝐢

As soon as he heard your distrust, Takemichi would become extremely agitated, he didn't betray you, but he felt like he had done something wrong without even having done it

"I didn't cheat on you, I'm sorry for making you think that!" In the midst of trying to hold back his tears because he thought you would break up with him even though he was innocent, he would beg for your forgiveness for having caused such mistrust, Takemichi would only calm down when you realized he was telling the truth.

𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

Izana would be angry, sincerely disappointed with such an accusation coming from you

Izana would remain silent, just listening to you carefully, after finishing listening to his words, he would look at you with disgust.

"If you really think I would do that, you better get out of my life! You don't know me well enough..." He wouldn't react well to your words, Izana wouldn't betray you, he was deeply in love with you and hearing that It really affected him.

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨

Kakucho would not understand the reason for the accusation, but he would do his best to make you believe him and realize that it was all just a misunderstanding

"... I'm sorry, I don't want you to think that about me, I would never hurt you in such a way." He would say calmly, looking away as he was hurt by the rage of your words.

"I don't want to make you suspicious, this won't happen again." Kakucho would be more careful with his behavior, even though he didn't do anything wrong, he never wanted to hurt you.