#my muse for him comes and goes rip

[shrenvents]

Spellbound

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, cunnilingus, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader

Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.

Word count: 2.7k

...

Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.

She was his newest fascination.

He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.

He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”

“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.

Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...

Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...

Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.

“Where are we headed this time darling?”

“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.

“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.

“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”

“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus went quiet. You watched as his expression goes blank, before he acts as though he was in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”

“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.

“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”

“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”

The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”

He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.

“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”

After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.

That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.

Like any other day, your conscious is eating away at you, as you call upon another ancestor of those he plagues. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours, as you questioned his late brother through the veil.

“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes dart to yours, and his angry appearance softens. Instinctively, he grips your forearm and drags you out of the motel room.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.

Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, let your guard down, and close your eyes. Such an urge that has only worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together…

“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."

Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”

After five minutes alone in a booth, you gather up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, heading back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you think. But you can’t help it.

When you enter the room, the door slowly creaks shut, and shadows engulf you. It’s too quiet, and you can’t see the hostage. Unease fills your system, and you begin to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off, when the captive grabs your torso, roughly caging your arms. His grip is inescapable, and when you try to scream, his free hand covers your mouth.

“You fucking bitch,” he murmurs with disgust, and you wince. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackles with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggle against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.

He muffles Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears prick your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.

The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carry you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.

His figure then disappears just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.

After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'

“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.

He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”

You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you, I’d probably be dead by now.”

“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”

“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”

“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.

“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You start to laugh too.

“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voices, airily. "I gave you my word.”

“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”

You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”

“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.

“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”

You freeze, heart dropping.

“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.

He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's most likely playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.

“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”

Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.

Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and palms your ass.

Continuously rolling your body into him, makes you feel his arousal, causing a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth runs down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.

“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.

“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to your assailant…

“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him, and rushing out the car.

Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking the door open, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.

As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.

His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands soon make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.

He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus ogles you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.

He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”

“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every which way he could.

You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.

When your lengthy climax finishes, he moves to sigh pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.

“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act is.

“There’s only so much I can do before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”

He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.

Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.

You straddle him, and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.

“You’re too big,” you gasp.

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“

“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.

“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.

“More,” he just about whines.

“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air abandons your body.

Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him, and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.

He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.

After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck.

Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.

“This is only the beginning.”

If you enjoyed this, i'm currently writing a klaus fanfic and u should check it out! u can find it on my wattpad @ shrenvents <33

[ceilidho]

If you haven't already, can you write a second part to house cleaner reader for ghost? I really liked it and would love a pt 2

i don't know about a full on sequel bc my muse is fickle and hard to catch but i can give you a little snippet?

The first time you slip into Simon’s bed, you swear it’ll be the first and last time. 

It’s not an accident—you made the decision deliberately. You just hope the circumstances lend your excuse some credence.

“Accidentally let a moth in,” you mumble into the pillow when you spot him standing in the doorframe. He has to duck his head a little to come in. 

Of course he picks today of all days to come home. 

His eyebrows come up as if in surprise, but you can see the slightest trace of amusement in his eyes. You pull the blankets up to your neck, conscious that you’re garbed in only sleep shorts and a tank top that’s several years old. It keeps riding up when you toss and turn in your sleep. 

Your head’s still a little foggy with sleep; you managed to catch up on all of an hour of sleep before the sound of your name in the deep timber of his voice had hooked you out of your dreams. Not that you remember what you were dreaming. 

You’d been curled up like a little woodland creature in his bed, nose stuffed in the pillow that still seemed to carry the lingering trace of his smell. In his absence, it’s easy to forget that he does have a smell; rich and layered, like gunpowder and smoke, like it clings to him barnacle-tight, like it’s caked under his nails and in the fine blond strands of his hair. You take a deeper breath in. 

Simon’s still clothed in the thick tactical gear you saw him off in several weeks ago. The tube scarf is pulled down to around his neck, exposing his face. It always leaves you hungry, eyes roaming over the blunt cut of his jaw greedily, watching it undulate when he yawns. It’s covered with rough new scruff, like he only started letting it grow out within the last day or so. 

“Simon?” you ask, humiliation still biting you at being found in his bed.

“Been on the road for bloody near four hours,” he grunts, hands coming up to start peeling away the layers covering him. 

It takes you a second to remember to avert your eyes. You keep your gaze fast on the floor, but the sound of velcro ripping off and drawers opening leaves your face hot, almost feverish. If you touch your cheek now, you’re sure you’ll find them burning. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” The comforter is still clasped to your chest when you go to sit up and you’re not sure what the plan was. To walk all the way back to your room with his blanket around you? “I’m gonna go—I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s so embarrassing, I just—I really don’t like moths.”

Whatever the plan was, it disintegrates to dust when he steps to the side of the bed that you were trying to slip off and plants a hand on your bare shoulder, pushing you back. 

“You really got to quit it with the sir, love,” Simon grunts, using the hand on your shoulder to guide you farther back onto the bed. Your heart goes a little haywire in your chest when he lifts the comforter to give himself room to climb in. “‘Least when we’re not in bed.”

You aren’t going to read into those words too closely. Your mind already feels sluggish, groggy, like waking up out of a bad nap with the headache still chasing you, and if you try to examine what he means by that, it’s just going to get worse. You let him rearrange you how he sees fit, slipping back down under the sheets and letting him turn you over onto your side.

“You’re not going to shower?” you mumble, eyelids already drooping shut. You only flinch a little when he hooks an arm around your waist and tugs you back into his chest. His scent is richer than usual, dappled with old sweat and smoke. 

“We can have one later. Getting some shut eye for now. Brew later, when we’ve got some rest.”

[kissoulie]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒

𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧

— NSFW, MDNI. edging ♡

warnings: fem bodied reader, they/them pronouns used, petnames (angel, baby), titty play, somno, edging but otherwise tame

a/n: it's my birthday!!!!!!!! so naturally i am giving yall a gift ♡ this is a general fic & not abt any idol in particular!

His hands roam your body over your clothes. The rough pads of his fingers brushing against your inner thighs, your stomach, the column of your throat. You stir quietly, nose scrunched as those hands wander beneath your underwear, brushing against the pulsating heat of your sex. He presses against it, watching in amusement as you grind against his hand.

“Does my little angel want me that badly?” He knows you cannot reply, only chuckling to himself as you let out a whine. He removes his hand, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth to lick, “Oh, baby, you smell heavenly.”

You can hear the wet sounds of him sucking his fingers, pressing them—still covered in drool—against your cheek. The cold makes you flinch, betraying your little ruse.

“My little angel’s conscious, aren’t they?” He muses, touching you over your clothes once more. He pushes down your top, exposing your chest to his hungry eyes. His fingers pinch your nipple, flicking the other one, his mouth latching onto your breast. His teeth scrape, tongue pressing against your salty skin. He sucks a mark there.

Oh, my gods, you think. Your thighs are spread, a sudden hardness poking at your entrance. You feel hands tugging at your underwear, and then you hear them rip. “Sorry, baby, I can barely wait another moment to have you.”

A hand smacks your sex, pulling yet another pitiful whine from you. Your eyes finally open, gazing up blearily at the man above you. His lips split in a grin, your eyes darting down to his hands that hold the length of his thick cock between your spread thighs. Your lips part, closing quickly before parting again. Your tongue darts out to wet them.

“Pretty little mouth you have there.” He smacks his length against your stomach, drawing your eyes back to it. Your pupils are blown wide, completely fixated on him, “Maybe I should use it next time.”

He slowly slides himself back and forth, collecting your arousal before pushing the tip into your eager hole. Only the tip, before he’s pulling out. A whine comes from you, blinking up at him wantonly as he slips just the tip in again. And again, it’s taken from you. Just the tip, again. And again. And again. And again.

You sob from frustration, moving to grab him and guide him home before his large hand stops you. Your eyes are filled with tears as you utter the one word you think he wants to hear, “Please!”

Instead of finally shoving himself into your waiting heat, he pulls away entirely, pinning both wrists above your head. “Patience, baby.”

His other hand plays with your chest while your body cools down, a sticky mess between your thighs aching as you find yourself completely desperate for him.

He forces you to stay like that for a while, mouthing at your chest while your breathing goes from labored to calm. You start dozing, his warm mouth latching onto your neck and placing wet kisses. It feels so good, but does nothing to quell the ache. A soft sigh escapes your lips, and he props himself up again.

“Let’s try this again, baby.” He sinks the tip of his dick in easily, your walls parting to take him eagerly. Once the tip pops in, he’s taking it back out. “You will learn patience. The sooner you do, the quicker I fuck you.”

In, out, in, out, in.

He slowly sinks into you, the stretch delicious from being tormented for so long. You immediately try to buck your hips into his, only for his hand on your throat stopping you. “Patience. I want to see how long it takes before my pretty angel falls apart from nothing but my dick inside them.”

taesan, jay, heeseung, ricky, theo, keeho, eunseok, wonbin, san, seonghwa

taglist: @tkooooop, @haolovre ♡

[amorchai]

📁 ₊˚⊹ pining best friend ron x reader. it’s obvious he has feelings but when reader tells him they like him too, he can’t believe it and gets all flustered and shy

𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌.

pairing(s): ron weasley x reader

words: 862

warnings/tags: mutual pining, minor jealousy.

hermione was too busy talking about the upcoming exam in transfiguration to notice how distracted ron was, more than usual. harry, however, was chuckling to himself, adding another pumpkin pastie onto his plate while watching ron.

it was unlike ron to not eat, especially at lunch after a morning full of exam preparation. his fork hovered his plate, unfocused, his ginger hair too long and poking his eyes that remained glued to your figure that stood at the entrance to the great hall.

you were laughing with dean thomas, someone taller and broader than ron, someone who looked more pristine and more groomed at this very moment than ron’s straggled hair and he couldn’t help but feel green.

“what you looking at, ron?” harry mused, interrupting hermione mid-sentence and she follows his gaze towards you and dean catching up. “he’s been talking to y/n for ten minutes now, can you not give her some lunch time to actually eat?”.

“jealous or something, ron?” an irish accent perks up from beside hermione, seamus snickering happily as ron scowls moodily towards his friend. “no, just… worried about y/n’s wellbeing, she should eat, she’s been stressed with exams and things, y’know.”

seamus nudges neville, “no, i don’t know. only you do, all you do is watch y/n i’m surprised she’s not sent an owl begging for a hexclusion order against you yet.”

“come off it, seamus.” ron snaps back, and hermione shushes both their bickering as you bid dean a goodbye and begin walking over to the table. of course, you sit beside ron as you usually do, and seamus and harry exchange a look which doesn’t go past you.

“hello?” you say confused, looking between them both before shaking your head and laughing dismissively. ron goes red when you glance at him and smile before beginning to make up a plate of your own food.

“what was dean saying?” asks ron, glaring at his friends as seamus wriggles his eyebrows and neville chuckles. “what-? oh, he just said he’s worried about his defence against the dark arts exam. so we’re going to study later on together, i could use the extra time for it too.”

ron glances at his plate, his fork pushing the vegetables around his plate, “oh. right.” you notice his frowned mood but decide not to bring it up around the rest of the table, nodding to his plate you reply, “not like you to have a bunch of veg.”

he nods, “well, you said greens help with upcoming exams.” you giggle and ron can’t help but watch your smile as you do so, expression softening despite the teasing eyes of the table, “true, i mostly said that to get you to eat some peas, you don’t eat enough healthy things.”

“nice of you to look after your boyfriend there, y/n,” you both glare at your irish friend, embarrassed. ron looks like he could rip seamus’ head off while you widen your eyes, “seamus,” you say quietly in a knowing tone.

“no, seriously. he could use the help after staring daggers into the back of dean’s head all mornin’,” this time hermione, harry, and neville all scold their friend as he snickers unapologetically.

you furrow your eyebrows, “what do you mean?” ron’s entire freckled face is beet red, embarrassed, angry and ashamed, he leans over the table, slamming his fork down with a closed fist, “i’m going to murder you, seamus.”

“awk, calm down, it’s not like she doesn’t like you back, you idiot.” ron is shocked, glancing at you while you shrink smaller in your place, embarrassed. “i think you forget dean is my best friend, he talks.”

this time ron says, “what do you mean?” but at the same time you respond, “i told him that in confidence.”

the table is silent. everyone watching you both while hermione ushers seamus to stop talking, ‘seriously, you never know when to stop do you?’ and ‘oh, you’re one to talk, miss know-it-all.’

“you like me?” ron asks quietly to you as the others bicker and you look at him with an embarrassed gaze, “yes i do, okay. i wasn’t going to say anything, stupid seamus and dean.”

“you like me?” he repeats with a slightly agape mouth, processing the response in disbelief and he doesn’t think it to be true. it must be some sort of sick prank seamus is pulling, not that you would ever go to such lengths.

you sigh, “course i do, how could i not?” ron is speechless, smiling beneath the tuffs of ginger hair as he looks back down to his plate. harry notices how ashamed you look, and leans forward so he’s within both of your earshot’s, “you not going to tell y/n you like her back?”

ron snaps his head, “yeah, oh yeah! i do. i like you back, i’m sorry. i’m just surprised is all.” you laugh, “that’s okay.” hermione is now ignoring seamus, smiling at you both as you shyly look away from one another, unsure what to do now. “does he need our help asking her on a date?” is heard as you both duck your heads down, “shut up, seamus!”

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[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

hi! could you maybe write reader x sleep token and how they met?

ps. i love all your works!! 🫶

Thank you for your kind words lovie🤍✨

Vessel

He’s a pretty calm, not at all in-your-face kind of guy. No longer big on parties and going out so his bubble of meeting new people had shrunk. So I think you two would meet at an odd space. Like a grocery store. Late at night. Not too long since it would have to close. He would be out to buy a snack after playing video games with the boys. Loving the quiet aura of the store so late.

That’s until he hears light curses. Stopping ever so slightly. They aren’t loud but the person is not enjoying the late night shop as much as he was. A part of Vessel just wants to turn and go check out. But another part is urging him to round the corner and at least catch a glimpse as to what’s going on.

That’s when he sees you, practically climbing the shelf as you try to reach a box of instant noodles. Usually, Vessel walks past things like this but no one is there to help, and the fact that the shelf wobbles slightly has him reaching his hand out to steady the construction. You jump back instantly, the tall frame lurking over you. But then you’re met with the most beautiful blue eyes. “You need a hand?”, his voice is horse since he practically talked to no one the whole day.

You nod, backing away. “If you don’t mind”, you mutter, “I swear the owner put them higher on purpose”. Vessel simply reached out. The top shelf did not give him any trouble as he grabbed the noodles, offering them to you. “Would be extremely rude if he did”, he mused, letting his eyes drift back to your frame. The messy bun. The oversized hoodie. “Guess you’re my knight in shining armor, huh”, chuckling slightly, you extended your hand towards him, “Y/n”. “Vess”, he chimed in, his much bigger palm drowning your hand.

“Do you want some noodles?”, you asked, watching him frown slightly, “Now?”, surely you weren’t inviting him into your home at midnight of the night. “I could be a serial killer you know?”, he stated, raising his eyebrows. “Well, a beautiful death I would die”, you shrugged. “Reach for one more pack, I will treat you to pot noodles Y/n style”. And the rest was history.

III

No, I just can’t get over this man in vintage fairs and shit. I can’t. I will die on this hill. So in my mind, you meet at a little thrift shop open fair thingy. He often goes or more like goes as often as his schedule allows him but he has his favorite sellers and they have some decent pieces.

He’s off to his favorite spot when he sees you standing next to the stand. Looking over a vintage player. The green case glistening in the sun. “One thousand and I won’t go lower”, the guy shrugs. iii watches your face fall as you shake your head. “Come on now, Garry, you’re ripping the girl off”, iii cuts in, making you glance his way and fuck if you’re not the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. “You and I both know that shit doesn’t even work”, he crosses his hands over his chest making Garry frown. “You’re out for my throat today lad”, the old man grunted, “I won’t go lower than six hundred”.

“Deal”, iii shakes on it. “Hey, I saw that first”, you huff, “And I’m also willing to pay six hundred, make it six fifty”, you cross your hands over your chest. “The lady is playing fair”, Garry rubbed his palms. “Six seventy and I’m buying it for you, sweetheart, so don’t make the dent in my wallet even bigger”, iii mused before winking your way, leaving you standing there speechless.

ii

Yeah, you got the guy distracted through the entirety of the show. Never had he been so entranced with someone in the crowd. He caught a glimpse of you before the show had even started. Standing alone by the barricades as you gazed at the stage. It was the fact that you had no phone on you maybe. Just there to sway to the beats of the music. Maybe the fact that you knew most drum parts by heart it seemed as if you taped against the metal with your fingers.

So there wasn’t even a question as he leaned over the edge to hand his drumstick to you. You watched him in surprise, clearly not believing that he would do that. Almost immediately turning to give one of them to the girl next to you. “Not this one”, ii cut in, stopping you from giving the one with a paper wrapped around it, “This one is for you only”. He could see your cheeks getting bright red even in the dim light.

“You’re a fucking awesome drummer”, you shouted over the crowd. “And you’re really pretty”, he winked, “don’t loose that”, he pointed to the paper before jumping back on stage. You kept your hand wrapped around it till you walked out of the stadium, gasping when you saw a phone number scribbled there.

Ivy

Look, he might be all cool and sassy but this guy ain’t that forward when it comes to girls. He was always shy and man did he hate making the first move. Not that his schedule left much space for casual dating. “Nice bike”, Ivy turned his head to the sound of the voice behind him. Glad he was sat and with a helmet on because he would have been red as a beet. “Ah, thanks?”, he muttered, pulling the visor up. He had stopped by a local bookstore to buy iii his birthday gift. “Sorry, it’s probably so strange but I just saw you and I like bikes and…”, you rambled on, “No, actually forget it, I look stupid”, you clasped a hand over your face before turning away from him.

Ivy watched you for a moment before shouting, “Hey, hold up, you want to go for a ride?”, the words had left his mouth before he had even realized it. But one thing was clear he didn’t regret it. “You don’t have to”, you shook your head, “Don’t need no pity ride”.

“I actually never backpacked with anyone”, Ivy shrugged, “It might be fun”. You blinked slowly, “Are you being serious?”, “I don’t have a helmet on me now but we can meet up tomorrow?”, he suggested, “A sunset ride?” You couldn’t hide the smile any longer, “I would love that”. You couldn’t really see his face but from the way his eyes glistened you could assume he was smiling. “Give me your phone and I will pick you up”, he offered and once again the rest was history.

[the-horny-vault]

I was asked to elaborate on this so here goes hehe

My kingdom is conquered, my throne usurped, and my body sold to the invader king in exchange for peace. The sheer, floaty gauze of my wedding gown clings to my curves as I'm escorted by my new husband's guards to my wedding bed.

They leave me in the chamber alone, nothing to do but sit and wait. Minutes tick by and my apprehension grows, all the ways this night could go flashing through my mind seemingly endlessly. He could turn out gentle, or not.

In truth, the first time I met him was at the end of the aisle, and all I know of my new husband is his reputation and the single hot, bruising kiss he'd left on my lips to seal our vows. I'm so caught up in my mind that I don't hear footsteps approaching until the door is flung open. The noise startles me to my feet, my heart leaping into my throat as if to choke me as I see Him step inside. I don't know what to do, so I simply stand and watch him, trying to hide the shaking in my knees as he does the same, his eyes seeming to burn straight through the flimsy material draping my body as they rake over my figure. He looms over me, broad and strong as he comes closer, setting a tankard of some alcohol down on the table.

I'm truly shaking now, trying not to cower from him as he crowds me slowly against the bed, never taking those dark, intense eyes off of me. Just as I find the courage to open my mouth to speak, his hand flashes out, gripping the back of my neck harshly, turning my words into a strangled whimper as he forces my head back. I can hardly move in his grip, just squirm pathetically. His free hand finds the pin at the center of my gown and he rips it free, causing the fabric to cascade open, hanging from my shoulders but leaving the rest of me completely exposed. My cheeks burn, and something burns between my legs as well, strange and unfamiliar.

His grip on my neck eases, the hand instead sliding the straps from my shoulders and leaving the dress to flutter to the floor. Immediately his hands are on me, squeezing and gripping my soft curves, groping me roughly.

"Brave little thing, aren't you, Princess?" His voice is rough and deep in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "Giving yourself in exchange for peace, that's rare." Suddenly his hand is between my thighs, pushing my legs apart and sinking two fingers into my cunt before I can react or close my legs. The stretch forces a small cry from my throat, my knees almost buckling at the unfamiliar sensation.

"Do you really know what you did, though?" He muses over my shaky breaths. "Do you know what you signed up for?" He rocks his fingers once, twice in my cunt then they're gone, leaving me strangely empty. He steps back and quickly strips himself of his clothes, and I can't help but feel a little flutter in my belly at the sight. I have no other reference but his cock is just as big as the rest of him, thick and imposing and I don't know how I'm going to take it all. I must have shown my shock on my face, because he laughs. It's not a cruel sound but it makes my hair stand up.

He moves again, suddenly, his fingers digging into my side as he forces me back into the bed. It all happens too fast for me to process, in an instant I'm on my back, my legs are forced wide and his cock is buried in my cunt in one swift motion. I scream, the burning of his cock, huge and heavy in my cunt, wracks my whole body. My nails dig into his back but he doesn't care, rolling his hips and somehow sheathing himself deeper. I can hear him speak, but my brain can hardly understand his words as I feel like I'm being split open.

"this is the cost of peace, little Princess. You sold your body to be my toy, my breeding whore. All you're good for now is this sweet little cunt and those pretty curves, you understand." I want to scream, to fight, but I submit, tears streaming down my cheeks as I go limp with a weak whine. He uses my cunt relentlessly, slamming into me over and over until he cums with a primal growl, spilling inside and pumping my womb full of his hot seed. He sits back then, still buried in my pussy, and looks me over as I lay under him, my chest heaving and my body trembling from his abuse. One large hand wanders down my body, pinching and rolling my nipples, smoothing over my stomach until it rests above my womb.

"You're going to bear my heirs, Princess, I'm going to keep you full and bred, that's your purpose now." I still don't move as he pulls out and stands, taking a swig from the forgotten drink on the table before laying himself down beside me and dragging my body flush against his. As I lay there, playing what happened over in my mind, I came to a realization. He was rough, brutal, uncaring.

But I'd liked it.

[rayslittlekitten]

Can I?

A/N: Okay y'all. It's here, it's done. Y'all voted on this a while back and it was a bit challenging as I made the mistake of starting to write it with Will in mind so I had to make adjustments, but I think I figured it out. Thank you so so much to @musings-of-a-rose for taking a look at this for me. You are a doll!

Rating: E (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6,033

Pairing: Benny Miller x BFF! F! Reader

Plot: A night of unexpected events occur when you and your best friend innocently test out sex toys you had drunkenly purchased for shits and giggles.

WARNINGS: This is the first fic I am NOT including warning tags because I don't want to spoil anything. There's nothing typically potentially triggering like dark stuff (i.e. CNC) but still I wanted to keep it a mystery going in. SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Your friends were supposed to watch the fight with you tonight but they had bailed with some excuse or two except for your best friend. You thought that his brother would at least still be joining as they usually do everything together - like you wouldn’t be surprised if you found out they hold each other’s dicks while the other pisses - but it’s just going to be you and him tonight. Instead of going to the bar like originally planned, you both decided to pick up a case of beer and hang out at your place. It’s cheaper and less crowded. 

There’s a rap at your apartment door and you go to open it. As expected, it's your best friend with the supply.

“Hey, Benny! Just in time!”

"Hey, you got a package," Benny says as he hands you the beer. He bends down to pick up the small brown box off the floor by your door. "What did you order?"

"I have no idea what that is," you reply as you make your way over to the kitchen to stick it in the fridge. "I don't remember ordering anything. Where does it say it's from?"

"The return address just says Warehouse, in Ohio," he replies, inspecting the non-descript package and following you further into your apartment after shutting the door behind him.

He hands you the cardboard box before taking his jacket off and making himself at home. You rip open the package and after seeing the contents, you laugh out loud.

"What's so funny?" he asks, walking closer to you.

"This was a drunk purchase. I totally forgot about these!" You reach in to pull out the items and show him your new purchases.

"What are those?" He looks perplexed.

“This one is a vibrator I keep seeing on Instagram, but it's supposed to be like, amazing," you answer.

"How the hell are you supposed to use that?" He takes one of the packages from you and inspects it, looking at the pictures on the box.

"Well, one way you can use it is you insert this side into your pussy and this part is supposed to sit on your clit," you point and explain to him. "It also comes with a detached remote so someone else can control it.

"I don't know if that's a terrible time or a great time."

"The vibration is supposed to be very powerful but quiet," you add. "Supposed to be discreet. They try to sell it by showing women supposedly wearing it in public under their clothes without anyone apparently knowing and their partner has control of it and she's like losing her shit."

"I'm curious now."

"For science!" You declare as you snatch the package from him. You start opening it up and pull the contents out. "Shit, it needs AAA batteries. TV remote!"

You head to the living room and he follows you. You take the batteries out of your TV remote and shove them into the new toy. After turning it on, it buzzes lightly in your hand, moving subtly.

"Let's see how crazy it can get." You start playing with the buttons until it goes up to the highest setting and Ben's eyes get wide as saucers watching it flop around in your palm, practically jumping out of your hand.

"Jesus Christ!" Benny hops back.

"Yeah, now imagine that between your legs."

"I'm not sure I want to. Looks like it would scramble all the sperm inside my balls. Besides, I don't think it was made for my body parts," he points out.

"You just don’t have an imagination," you jab. "Hmm, should we test drive it?" you suggest as you shut it off.

“What do you mean?" he asks curiously.

"See if the hype is real," you answer. "Especially that other one." You point to the other toy that's still in its package.

"That one's supposed to feel like your clit is actually getting sucked on."

"I didn't even know such toys exist," he confesses. 

"There are soooo many sex toys out there, you don't even know. Why don't you go get us some cold ones while I figure these out?" you suggest.

"You really wanna do this?” He checks again.

"Yeah, why not? It's not like we have anything else better to do except watch two grown men beat each other up," you state. “Come on, this isn’t any different than the time we accidentally found Will’s porn stash and you got a boner.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t jerk off.”

“You totally did. Not in front of me, but you were not discreet when you snuck off to the bathroom with one of his magazines to ‘take a shit’,” you look at him knowingly.

“Okay, fine,” he shrugs and adjusts his forward-facing cap. “You have a point.” He heads back into the kitchen to grab some beer.

When he comes back with two opened bottles in hand, he finds you reading the manual and reviewing the other toy.

"So how exactly are we testing these?" he asks, settling down next to you on the couch and taking a gulp of his beer.

"Well, I'm not gonna stick it down my pants if that's what you're thinking. Would that be too weird?” You scrunch your nose while looking over at your best friend who looks just as clueless.

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking. It ain't going down my pants. No amount of alcohol is gonna get that to happen."

"Okay, I didn't think this through. I mean, I guess we can just test it on our arms or something," you shrug cluelessly, thinking of the first thing that comes to mind and then going back to the manual.

"How would that work?" Benny asks as he takes the remote sitting next to him, inspecting it.

As you begin to answer, he starts randomly pressing buttons and you shriek, jumping in your seat. Benny also jumps back, spilling some of his beer as he reacts to your sudden outburst.

"What the hell?!" He looks over to you.

You instantly reach for the vibrator that happened to be sitting between your legs, snug against the front of your pants and toss it at him. Benny tries to dodge it like it's a dead cockroach, but it lands on his lap and he immediately launches himself off the couch. The vibrator continues to bounce around the cushion of the couch until Benny finally shuts it off.

"What the hell was that, man?" Benny looks over at you.

"It was between my legs when you turned it on, you ass!"

“Well, what the hell was it doing there? You said you weren't gonna test it that way."

"I wasn't! It just happened to be there while I was reading on how to operate the other one. Why'd you turn it on?" You shoot back.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing!" He shouts. "This shit is like rocket science! How do you women even use these things?"

"Men use them too," you correct him. 

“Well, clearly I never have," he admits and returns to his seat, flicking the vibrator towards you to make room for himself.

"You're such a prude. It's not like I was wearing it," you say, grabbing it away from him.

"I'm not a prude! You freaked out so I freaked out." He takes another gulp of his beer.

"Whatever," you mumble, still feeling a bit flustered and embarrassed by what had happened. You turn your attention back to the other toy. 

"Wait, you've never used any sex toys before?" you shift your attention back to him.

"Nope," he shakes his head.

"Not even with a partner?" You raise a brow.

"Well, one time this girl wanted to make things interesting and suggested a dildo, but it wasn't for her," he starts. "She wanted to stick that up my ass and I was not about that. Especially not after what I had for lunch that day."

"Aww, no peggy for Benny?" you exaggerate a pout.

"Hey, you should think twice about who you're poking fun of.” He shows you the remote in his hand and turns it back on, spooking you when the vibrator goes off between you and Benny.

"Okay, you're having too much fun with that." You reach over to grab the remote from him but he moves it away from your reach. 

You lean in further, but his long arm prevents you from getting access to it. At this point, you’re practically climbing on top of him. 

“You’re right. This is fun,” he laughs.

When you get close, he transfers the remote to his other hand so you shift yourself but lose your balance, landing back on the still-on vibrator. You shriek and Benny laughs at you. He turns the setting to the highest as you try to get away from it in your awkward position.

"Benny! You can't just go from 1 to 100 instant—" You finally roll off of it and give yourself a moment. With your eyes closed and teeth digging hard into your lower plump lip, you try to get yourself together.

“Are- are you okay?” Benny asks as his laugh dwindles. “Did you have an orgasm or something?” he jokes.

“No…” you start. “But maybe I almost did - maybe!”

His laugh finally dies, but a smirk remains on his face.

“Seriously?!” His eyes grow wide, turning his body towards you.

“That toy is no joke,” you point to it still wriggling on the couch. “And now I really wanna know what it can do.”

Benny shuts it off and his eyes shuttle between the toy and you.

“Uh… like, now?” He questions.

You stare at him for a few seconds, contemplating. 

“That would be weird, right?” You ask with a squinted eye. “Never mind, forget it—”

“Have at it,” Benny interrupts. “Now I wanna see what this thing can do, too.”

“Really?” You ask with a raised brow, surprised.

“Yeah, like you said, what else is there to do? For science!” He brings up his beer bottle to celebrate it.

“Dork,” you chuckle, snatching the toy.

“Also, maybe I can learn a thing or two from it,” he replies. “Not that I need any help in that department, but I’m always open to learning new things,” he adds.

You roll your eyes.

“Hey, I’m a fighter and a lover. And I’m great at both,” he winks. 

“Are you done stroking your own ego?” You look at him, unimpressed.

“I’m sorry. Yes, you can go on to stroke yourself,” he answers, trying to keep a straight face but ends up cracking a smirk.

“You’re so dumb,” you roll your eyes again and try not to crack your own.

“But I gotta be the one in control.” He holds up the remote in his hand.

“Benny-“

“I may never have the opportunity to ever do this again,” he says. “Besides, isn’t it what makes this fun? Someone else controlling it?”

You stare back at him and think about it.

“Okay, fine, but-“ you point a finger at him.

“I promise I won’t go from zero to 100, okay? Scout’s honor.” Benny brings his three middle fingers up.

“You weren’t a boy scout,” you point out.

“Fuck you. I was one for like a month,” he corrects you. “So are we doing this or what?”

“Turn around,” you tell him.

“What? I can’t watch?”

“Not watch me put this on. Turn around,” you repeat.

He rolls his eyes and turns his whole body around so the back of his head is facing you. You keep an eye on him as you wrangle your jeans and slip the toy inside you until it fits snug. Benny takes a sip of his beer as he waits patiently. He hears you fumbling around and finally you tell him he can turn back around.

He turns to face you and he looks confused.

“What?” You ask him.

“You have it on? Under your jeans?”

“Yes. I wasn’t gonna let it all hang out willy-nilly,” you tell him. “If you don’t believe me, turn it—“

Before you can finish your sentence, Benny flips the switch and you seize up. He can’t hear it, but your reaction confirms you have it in. He watches you as you stay still and quiet for a few moments.

“Can I up the speed?” He asks.

“Is this the lowest setting?” You calmly shoot back.

“Uh, yeah I think so.” He looks down at the remote to see if there’s any indication.

“Okay, go up one notch. One!” You glare at him.

“Okay, here we go.” He turns it up and you twitch.

You start shifting around in your seat until you feel the vibrator is in optimal position.

“How many speeds does this thing have again?” You ask out loud, reaching for the instruction manual and scanning it. “TEN?”

“Well, here’s number three,” Benny says as he ups the speed.

“Ben— ohhhhh…” Your scolding got cut short when the vibrator starts to really hit the right spots. 

The tip of the dildo part tickles your g-spot as the outer part flickers over your clit. You close your eyes and bite your lower lip, trying to concentrate and keep your composure.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you mumble.

“Uh… how are you doing?” He asks, not sure what else to do.

“I’m… “ you freeze up for a quick second and then relax, letting out a heavy breath. “Jeeeesus,” you hiss.

Benny remains quiet as he watches you slightly gyrate against the couch. You close your legs together and cross your knees, trying to recalibrate yourself for the ideal position. He notices your breathing has gotten heavier.

“Higher?” He asks quietly, afraid to interrupt your flow.

“I’m already slipping all around,” you answer without opening your eyes, almost forgetting you aren’t alone.

“That’s not a no…” he points out.

Your teeth digs even deeper into your lower lip as you contemplate whether you want to chase your impending orgasm or not. You hate that at the current setting, it’s only enough to edge you and need a bit more to get you over the top. 

“Okay,” you finally say. “Do it.”

Benny takes it to number four and you yelp instantly.

"Oh my god," you start giggling. "This is fucking crazy!"

Your thighs tightly clamp together and your back arches off the couch. You throw your head back as your jaw drops open, letting out a silent scream. Your hips rock against the vibrator, trying to get to the finish line.

"I'm not gonna lie. This is getting me hard."

You open your eyes and glance over at him to see him palming the front of his jeans and rubbing himself through the denim as he watches you trying not to lose your shit.

“How close are you?" he asks.

You feel your face get really warm all of a sudden. His baby blues pierce your eyes and you're suddenly feeling more vulnerable than you already are, like you just got caught doing something you shouldn't be doing, but at the same time, it’s kinda hot seeing Benny turned on watching you to the point where he’s quasi-touching himself. Noticing your state of shock, he amps up the vibration and you let out an uncontrolled moan.

"Oh, fuck!“

Your hips buck off the couch as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. You continue to moan as you ride the wave and try to catch the next one, grinding down on the couch. You don’t even care how silly you might look to Ben right now. All your focus is what’s going on between your legs. Suddenly the vibrator gets stronger again.

“Ben, stop! It’s too much!” You shriek.

You’re relieved when the torture stops, but it also feels odd as you feel the residual buzzing between your legs.

“So… how was it?” Benny breaks the silence. “Was it all your hopes and dreams?”

You take a moment to yourself to process the experience before answering.

“This shit is… I don’t think I ever want to experience the highest setting on this thing,” you tell him. “This thing is like a torture device. It feels like I pissed myself.”

You turn to look at him as you catch your breath and you’re reminded that Benny’s having his own fun with this, bringing you back down to earth. He scoots a bit closer to you with his hand still over his crotch. This new tension is clearly mutually felt as you both stare at each other, waiting for the other person to say or do something first. Your eyes ping pong between his face and his crotch, which he is still lazily rubbing.

“So uh… what now?” Benny asks, licking his lips. “Round two?” he brings up the remote still in his hand.

“N-no! No, no! Don’t you dare-“ you reach for the remote again, but he pulls it back behind him.

You chase after it, lunging towards him and end up getting right in his face.

“Benny!” You try again, but pause when you catch him staring at you, his face no more than a few inches away from yours. 

It may be the post-orgasm bliss or the awkward position you both found yourselves in, but you’ve never noticed how easy on the eyes your best friend is. He swallows hard as his eyes scan your face.

“Can… can I kiss you?"  he asks suddenly, leaning in and nudging your nose with his, testing the boundaries.

You lick your dry lips and swallow as you glance down at his mouth, seeing it slowly closing the distance. He ghosts his lips over yours, stopping short of actually putting it on yours, waiting for your permission. You answer his question by closing the gap, slotting your mouth over his.

He kisses back, gently at first, matching your energy. When you slip your tongue into his mouth, he cups your face and returns the gesture. You’re both now devouring each other as he turns his body towards you to get into a more comfortable position, adjusting himself to accommodate the bulge in his jeans.

You both continue to make out with more urgency. Benny’s hands start cautiously exploring your body, placing a hand on your waist at first. It wanders down to your hip and he gives it a squeeze. Your own hands start roaming Benny’s body, touching his hard chest first. His warmth is welcoming, making you twist your body and lean into him. Feeling bold, Benny’s hand wanders to your thigh, his fingers brushing the inside, but far from your wet patch. 

“Can I touch you down there?” He mumbles between kisses while moving his mouth to the side of your face and down your neck.

“Wha-“ You let out a loud sigh when you feel his soft wet tongue on the side of your neck, shivering when he grazes a sensitive spot.

“Can I touch you down there?” Ben repeats, pulling back, his lust-filled eyes looking down into yours.

His fingers barely scrapes your inner thigh, but you feel the jolt of his touch travel up to where the vibrator is still sitting.

“Please?” He squeaks out as his fingers travel up higher and his breathing gets heavier, matching yours.

Even though the vibrator isn’t on, it still brushes against your clit every time you shift and it’s only making you want Benny more, to help you get some relief. Even though you’ve already cum, you are hornier than ever right now.

You simply nod before capturing his mouth again. You moan into his mouth when you feel his hand cupping you, rubbing small slow circles with his fingers. Your hips twitch when he drags his middle finger up and down the thick seam of your pants that’s pressing directly down the center of the outer part of the vibrator which is sitting directly on your clit. He’s barely putting any pressure, but you’re hypersensitive right now and it feels like torture. 

Now impatient, you start undoing your pants, trying to quickly get them off. You break the kiss to take a few seconds to focus on ridding your jeans. Benny watches you as he palms himself again, touching himself like he did with you. When you finally get your jeans off, tossing it over the couch, you reach into your underwear to remove the bane of your current existence - the vibrator. Without much effort, the vibrator basically falls out of you. It is drenched in your arousal, a thin sticky string still connects you to it. 

It made an audible noise when it slipped out of you, as did Benny. Before you can discard the very used toy, Benny’s hand is back on you, his fingertips teasing the band of your underwear. He keeps dipping further and discovers how slick you really are.

"Jeeeeesus Christ, you weren't kidding. That shit got you so fucking wet," he comments while teasing your opening, slowly dipping his fingertip in, putting light pressure against it but it took no effort to penetrate you.

An audible squelch can be heard when he enters a second finger. You moan, feeling his thick fingers filling you and stroking you inside. He’s definitely reaching places the vibrator couldn’t. He hums watching your face distort when he pushes in further.

Your hand grips his strong forearm, feeling his veins raised and his muscles flexing underneath your palms as he pumps his long fingers in and out of you. The tip of his tongue darts out and licks the corner by his upper lip as he starts curling his fingers up, reaching for that soft spongy spot at the roof of your vagina. Your legs open up wider for him as his fingertips rub your g-spot over and over again. Your senses are heightened watching him watching you with darkened eyes. His thumb starts rubbing your clit as he massages your g-spot and it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to peak. You rock your hips against his fingers as your muscles continually clench and release over his fingers. 

"Holy sh-shit," you tremble, feeling the aftershocks.

He pulls his fingers out, dragging them over your clit along the way, making your body twitch at the sensitivity. 

“I think I made you cum faster than that toy did,” he jokes.

You crack a half smile but you don’t have the brain power to conjure up a verbal response. After a shared moment, he leans in to give you a quick peck on your lips. As he gets up off the couch, Benny takes his cap off to adjust the position of it, switching it backwards before settling between your legs. 

The front of your thin cotton panties are completely drenched through. He can see your outline as the damp fabric clings to your puffy lips. 

“Can I taste you?” 

His puppy eyes peek up from between your legs. Your brain is mush so you simply nod.

He bunches the top of your underwear in his hand and yanks it up, causing it to brush across your clit. Your hips twitch and as he continues to rub the fabric over you, seeing your reaction to it and drawing out the tease. You moan and gyrate your hips when he puts his mouth between your legs over your underwear.  He laps up your juices, licking and sucking as he continues to tug at your panties taut against your dripping cunt, putting pressure on your sensitive nub.

"Ben…" you pant as you push his cap off and run your fingers through his messy dirty blonde hair.

His scruff brushes the insides of your thigh as he continues to eat you out. You gasp when you feel the tip of his tongue breaching your opening, forcing your underwear aside and exposing your core. He puts more pressure with his tongue, slipping in deeper inside you and tasting you. Your hips start rocking against his face, but his tongue can only go so far. He shifts his attention to the swollen bud a little higher, scrunching your panties aside. He circles your clit with the tip before pressing the flat of his tongue and then his mouth over it, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucks hard. Your thighs clamp around his head and his eyes focus on your face as his tongue continues to play your clit like a fiddle. He grips your hips and holds you down.

“F-fuck…” your breathing becomes irregular as your orgasm builds.

With his mouth still attached to you, he slips his finger inside you to try to find that spot again. You thrust against his face when you feel your third release breaching. Benny intensifies his sucking and fingering, feeling you clench around him. You cry out when the dam breaks and you convulse around him. He doesn’t stop until you still. As you’re coming down from your high, body slouched from being spent, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean.

“So you wanna try that other toy now to see how it compares to the real thing?” He asks as he stands up and wipes his mouth.

He was right about him not needing any help in the bedroom department. You can barely form words right now. Never in a million years would you think your best friend can eat pussy like an expert. Taking from his brother who he regularly competes with, he always strives to be the best in everything he does, but this is on a whole different level. And now he wants to use another toy on you? You don’t think anything can top what he just did to you.

"W-what?" you ask cluelessly, still recovering the most mind blowing oral sex you have ever received. 

Your eyes follow him as he reaches for the suction toy to show you. He tries to figure out how to turn it on as he kneels down, returning between your legs.

"You gotta help me out here--"

He's suddenly interrupted when you grab his face and smash your lips against his, tasting yourself. He abandons the toy somewhere and moves up to the couch next to you. You reposition yourself to straddle his lap as you continue to make out. As your hands wander down to the buttons of his jeans, he grabs your ass, squeezing them in his large hands. 

When you successfully get his jeans undone, he lifts his hips and helps you pull down his bottoms until he springs free. You look down and reach for his thick cock, warm and soft to the touch. You jerk him as he’s already hard as a rock. Your thumb brushes the underside of his head.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

Now it’s your turn to torture him. You slide off his lap and on to the floor, kneeling between his knees. Once in a comfortable position, you grab his length, licking a trail from the base to the tip, maintaining eye contact the entire time. When you get to the top, you wrap your lips around him, wetting the head a bit before inching down to taste the rest of him. Your tongue swirls around his smooth and salty skin, lubricating him as you bob up and down.

“Shhhhit…” He throws his head back against the couch.

Feeling frisky, you try to deep throat him and he grasps within arms reach whatever he can as he groans. He looks over when a hand grabs something unfamiliar to him. It’s the vibrator and an idea comes to his mind.

“Wait,” he reluctantly stops you.

You pause and see him holding up the vibrator.

“Put this on while you suck me. I think it’ll be fun.”

You look at the vibrator for a moment and then back at him.

“I promise I won’t put it so high,” he reassures you.

“Fine,” you agree and you take it from him and slip it inside you, orienting it the right way. “You try anything and I’ll bite your dick off,” you warn, drawing a small chuckle out of Ben.

You get back into the position you were in before and put your mouth back on him. As you go back to sucking him, you yelp when Benny turns the vibrator on at a low speed. The noise you made sent a delightful vibration down his cock, making it twitch. He turns it up a notch and your hips move against the vibrator. You start moving up and down on him a little faster, stroking the base where your mouth can’t reach. You deepthroat him again until you gag, but you keep on going, sending your spit dripping down his cock and lubing him up.

“You look so fucking hot,” Benny pants.

His breathing is getting more labored. His hips jerk up and he places a hand on the back of your head. He’s not putting any pressure, but he fists your hair. He doesn’t pull on it, just moves with you as you fuck him with your mouth. You start quickening your pace feeling the vibrator getting stronger, trying to match it. Feeling the beginning of an orgasm forming, you rock your hips and suck him harder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns you.

Not changing your rhythm, you watch him come undone as he pops in your mouth. He thrust into your face as his moans echo in the small space and grasps the remote in his hand, accidentally jumping it up another level, but it’s what you needed to push you over the edge. You grind against the toy as you moan with him still deep inside your mouth. He spills out of the corner of your mouth as his hips slow down.

When he stills, you suck him clean and swallow the load that remained in your mouth. You reach down to pull the vibrator off and toss it onto his lap. Benny jumps in his seat and shuts it off. You wipe the corner of your mouth and chin with the back of your hand as you get up off your knees. He looks back at you with tired eyes as he tries to catch his breath, cock twitching. You squeal when he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his lap, careful with his half hard cock. You straddle his lap and he kisses you, his tongue thrusting into your mouth, tasting a bit of himself. The two of you lazily make out for a bit until Benny pulls back. You lick your lips and smile, looking down at him.

“We should start making this a regular thing, ya know. The toy testing,” Benny suggests, breaking the awkward silence and lightening the mood.

“Well, I do have a dildo I haven’t tried yet,” you half-joke.

He looks back at you with narrow eyes.

“You’re not putting that in my ass,” he states.

“Not what I was thinking,” you chuckle as you shake your head. “I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to be double penetrated,” you explain.

Benny stares at you with a blank expression, but you see his semi twitch in your peripheral. 

“Gi-give me maybe fifteen minutes—“ he finally says, pointing to his softening cock.

“Whoa! Hold it there, cowboy,” you stop him. “Why don’t we just think on that? Besides, I don’t have any condoms or lube for that to happen.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure,” he shrugs. “I-I had a good time, if that’s what you were wonder—“

You silence him with a tender kiss before grabbing the vibrator to remove the batteries and toss them at him.

“I’m gonna clean up. Why don’t you put the fight on? I think It’s starting soon,” you tell him as you dismount him and grab your jeans off the floor while Benny pulls his bottoms back up.

“Look what the guys missed out on. Coulda had an orgy,” you joke.

“If everyone showed up, we’d be at a bar,” he points out, then swishes some beer inside his mouth.

“Fair. Okay, a Miller sandwich then,” you switch it up.

Benny chokes on his beer.

“Kidding!” You chuckle awkwardly. “Kinda. Sorry, you probably don’t wanna think about you and your brother fucking the same person at the same time,” you snort before finally heading to the bathroom.

When you get back, you find Benny putting his phone away and relaxing on the couch like he was before any of the sexy stuff had happened, with the TV on. The awkwardness returns. He hands you your beer as you sit down next to him, settling in. You both quietly watch the fight as it starts, but you steal glances at each other every now and then. At one point, you do a double take.

“Dude, are you smelling your fingers?” You look at him incredulously.

“What? I washed them, but I can still smell you.”

You grimace at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. You smell good,” he shrugs. “It’s actually getting me hard again.”

You watch him adjust himself. The both of you stare each other down, trying to read each other until a knock on your door breaks the trance.

“Who the hell is that?” You ask, but Benny shrugs.

You get up to open the door and find the other Miller brother on the other side.

“Hey, sorry I’m late! I had trouble finding parking. Did the fight start already?”

You look back at him confused.

“Uh… are you gonna let me in?” Will asks. “I brought goodies.” He shows the case of beer and grocery store bag in his hand with a party sized bag of chips peeking out.

“Sorry, I just thought you weren’t coming,” you tell him while letting him in.

“I texted Benny telling him plans changed last minute. Did he not get it?”

“Uh, I-I don’t know. He didn’t tell me anything.” You lead him into the living room where Benny almost looks surprised.

“Did you not tell her I’m coming?” Will asks his brother.

“Oh, sorry, forgot. I was uh, a little preoccupied,” he apologizes.

Will looks at both you and Benny suspiciously. 

“It smells… interesting in here,” he comments, his eyebrows furrow with curiosity.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry Will. Let me take that from you.” You quickly change the subject, taking the bag and beer out of his hands.

“Wait-” Will starts.

“Get comfy. I’ll bring you back a cold beer,” you tell him before whisking away.

You stick the beer in the fridge and when you remove the party sized tortillas to pour some into a bowl, you notice some unexpected items in the bag. You take them out for a closer inspection and your eyes widen at the bottle of lube and a box of condoms. Maybe he bought these before his initial plans got changed.

You shrug, throw them back into the bag and return to the living room with a bowl of chips, cold beer and the grocery bag of personal items. When you walk into the living room, the brothers turn their attention to you, eyeing you like they’re expecting something other than the beer and chips. You look back at them suspiciously as they’re both very laxed and spread out on the couch on each end, leaving a space for you in between. As you walk over and settle in next to them, their gaze follows you.

“Here Will, I think these are yours,” you hand him a beer and his bag of items.

He takes them from you as he smirks.

“Thanks. So,” Will turns his body towards you. “Benny tells me you’re curious about some DP action.”

You almost drop the bowl of chips in your hands. Will is usually very reserved and diplomatic so you’re a bit shocked at how straight forward he is right now. You glare at your best friend who shrugs helplessly.

“I had to tell him what he missed out on.”

You glower your eyes at Benny, but then put two and two together, your focus now bouncing between the two brothers and realize that no one is probably going to watch this fight tonight.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey gorgeous,

Would you be up for some angst ?

Maybe his niece (rhaenyras younger sister) was always the negleted child and after sometime she gets to be known as one of the greatest targaryens (she claims cannibal and is a beast when it comes to fighting and being a ruler) and she comes to the last dinner before her father dies and sleeps with daemon (who previously in her childhood made her feel worthless)

And when she avoids him after, he goes to her and shes like:

-Just so you know, that meant nothing

-what if it meant everything to me?

-not my problem

All I Ever Wanted

Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The gods have weighed the scales, now you were only paying everyone their dues. It felt nice to hold the upper hand against your uncle for once.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: mentions/depictions of targcest (uncle and niece), fem!reader, mentions/allusions to sex, angst, bad fam relations, typos, etc.

A/N: idk im tired i hope you like it nonnie. i changed a bunch of stuff about the fic req so T_T i cant believe i managed to make it so long HAHHAHAHH Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony

Daemon could not believe it.

He could not believe that he woke up by himself.

He was soaking in his smugness, dripping with self-accomplishment and victory, eagerly rolling over to coo his musings of self-importance to his prey.

Yet you were gone.

And he did not understand it.

He did not appreciate the bile that was threatening to be regurgitated out of his pallet. A line grew between his brows as he ripped his blanket off. He roughly dressed himself in breeches and a shirt, then stormed out of this chambers.

Part of him was relieved to find you so quickly, another part was in pure offence to how nonchalant you acted in the gardens, eating a pear as you read a book.

"Skoro syt issi ao kesīr sīr early isse se ñāqatubis?" Daemon cut through your concentration on your page. You turned to him halfway through his sentence, full mouth slowing in its chewing.

"What do you mean 'why are you here so early in the morning', uncle?" you narrow your eyes, shaking the hanging foot from your crossed leg. The heavy, red velvet of your skirt barely moved at your actions.

Daemon walks over to you, unkempt long, platinum hair blowing with the morning breeze along with his loose shirt, "you should have woken up with me."

You watch him as he nears. When he reaches the bench you were sat upon, you bring your book to your lap, one hand in between the pages of where you stopped reading, "and why should I have done so, uncle?"

The tone in which you say this with simultaneously angers and excites Daemon. He adores a good challenge. You both know that.

The prince reaches out to your face, tilting your head up to him, "I'm not done with you, niece."

You roll your eyes. He chuckles as you stand.

You thoughtlessly discard the core of the fruit to the side and release your grip on your book in order to clamp it under your arm, "iksis ziry daor obvious bona iksan tetan lēda ao?"

Daemon stills. He watches as you, his sweet little niece, defiantly staring at him. You spat such words as 'is it not obvious that I am finished with you?' to him? Your uncle? Your star? He who you viewed as holy as the Seven you were so devout to? No. This surely was a jest. A game of cat and mouse.

Daemon's lips curve into a lopsided grin. He opens his mouth to join in the banter, and yet he was not given an opportunity to speak.

"I will leave now, since you're clearly persistent to bother me," you coldly say, moving past him in all audacity.

A scoff actually leaves him because of this. He catches your arm, lowly and dryly chuckling, "rūda lēda aōha tymptir, byka genes."

Quit with your game, little mouse.

"I'm not playing, and I'm not a mouse," you snip, pulling your arm out of his grip.

Now you were both looking at each other with furrowed brows, equally long and light air wafting with the wind.

"I got what I wanted from you, Daemon."

You word this so plainly, so carelessly, and yet it pokes at him, makes his insides churn.

"I've scratched my itch. I've satiated my curiously," you release the tension between your brows to contort your face into scorn, "I've unraveled you, and found you're just another man-- greedy, self-absorbed, and cannot show for all the talk they give."

Daemon scoffs, eyes narrowing. He steps closer, raising his nose as he lets your words get under his skin, "it is too early to toy with me like this."

The eyeroll you give strikes a chord in him as you mutter, "ah, kepus, ao sagon getting uēpa. Ȳdra daor ao jiōragon ziry?" Oh, uncle, you're getting old. Don't you get it? The hardness in his face falters when you continue, "there's no game between us. There's nothing."

Daemon pulls his head back. No. That's not you.

You slowly shake you're head, ratifying, "Iksan gaomagon lēda ao."

I'm done with you.

But who were you?

Last night, the young girl he used to braid the hair of burst into the hall, uninvited, with purpose. His decaying brother, Viserys, and the Hightower bitch was shocked, even your sister, Rhaenyra, was. Daemon, though, was amused by the the theatrics and whispered this your ear, telling you that you copied him.

It was clear when you replied, "except I was not exiled, uncle. I left and returned on my own will. Something you have never done and never will," that you were not that little girl anymore.

He watched you as you moved, as you carried yourself in the room with not a hint of reluctance. You came as... a woman. A woman.

His breath caught in his lungs as you recounted your stories with your beloved Cannibal, much to the aghast looks of others. He was not one of those who laughed at the notion your frailer version gave of claiming the dragon, and yet still, he could hardly believe the words that you surely uttered by your bitten lips himself.

Oh, your lips that then mused more private stories for his ears only later that night, your lips that he then took between his teeth even later, and that he then made to call out his name in the early mornings.

Who were you now?

That woman was not here. You were not the warrior that claimed the dragon, the vixen that clamed his soul, and, sure by the gods, not the little girl that claimed all eagerness to please everyone around her.

Who were you, you who was looking down at him, as though it was not he that read you bedtime stories, he that gave you treats under the banquet table, he that make you come undone beneath him last night?

How dare you discard him?

Daemon regains his gall, "I'm not done with you, niece."

You don't even look at him when you say, "I don't care," and walk away with that stupid book in your hands.

His nostrils flare. "Don't you fucking walk away from me," he quips, unwilling to chase, unwilling to bend or beg.

He watches as you make your way farther.

Against himself, in a brand of desperation, he hastens after you, grabbing your arm, pulling you back to face him. He heaves at your idle gaze, "you've worn my patience."

"It's only fair," you purse your lips, "you worn my time for nothing."

One of Daemon's eyes twitches.

"Bullshit," he chuckles.

You shrug and it enrages him.

It is bullshit and you both know it. And yet somehow, he's beaten to the punch again. He's left defenseless before his little niece and it's ripping at his seams.

"I honestly expected more from you, uncle," you pout, "but then again, I only thought so highly of you because I was a naïve child, just like you said I was all those years ago."

Daemon could not even respond as you hypnotize him by pushing his hair behind his ear, "I've met many men whilst my travels with Cannibal. Though I did appreciate your company, I'm sure you'd agree last night was as lack lustre as it was for me, right, uncle? Since you'd had a great many women yourself."

He watches you as you lean in. He can see the sheen, smell the remnants of pear on your mouth.

This was a trap. There was no real answer. He's been choked. You knew this. And now your lips were curving up.

"Your mind games don't work on me, child," Daemon finally gets to speak.

You laugh outright. You grab his arm as you sigh, "what? Is it so scary to reply to my words you evaded the question altogether?"

In another world, he'd have gone red faced at your words, but no, your mind games don't work on him.

But, oh, it does.

You got him piping like a kettle.

"Just so we're perfectly clear, uncle, so that I am certain we're on the same page," you clutch your book into your chest, "know, that everything, last night, meant nothing to me."

He speaks before he thinks. He can't even hate himself for it because he speaks like he can't even hear himself, "what if it meant everything to me?"

You knit your brows. You scoff out a chuckle, "now who's playing, Daemon?"

His breath audibly hitches. You hear it. You smile, "that's not really my problem, now is it?"

You horribly, so, so gently rub the pad of your thumb on his lips. He freezes as you turn back. Daemon watches you walk away for the second time. This time, he does not run after.

[thlayli-ra]

Punkintyre; a twisted love story

As anyone who follows my blog knows, I like posting my headcanons and LOVE posting about Punkintyre, and yet the two have never met... until now! This will be very long and probably split into different parts as I have a lot to say about them. So sit, back, relax and enjoy.

***Please note; this is all my own personal headcanons just for a bit of fun***

Punkintyre, at its core, is a story of obsession, possession and hate. Fiercely passionate hate. The kind of hate that consumes the soul entirely, and once it has destroyed the vessel, it goes on to destroy everything else around it.

But above all, to me, the essence of Punkintyre is that it's a story of unrequited love.

To understand this better, let's look at the players in this ship;

Drew McIntyre - 'You complete me!'

By the close of 2023, Drew was already a good girl gone bad. Having been a popular babyface for years, his attitude had noticeably changed after a series of disappointing losses, becoming more aggressive, ruthless and caring only about himself. The crowd didn't like this new direction and were rapidly turning on him.

Then hell froze over! CM Punk made his glorious return.

And Drew had an epiphany! Here was a true villain, a man currently looming beneath a large, dark cloud. A cancer. A disease, threatening to infect the WWE with his sickness. At the Royal Rumble, he targeted Punk and injured him, putting him out on the shelf for months. Drew basked in his triumph, calling himself the Saviour of Wrestlemania and waited with anticipation for his flowers. Because, if there was one thing that was guaranteed, it was that everybody hated Punk far more than they hated Drew.

Except... they didn't! The mindless drones had already been swayed by the lies of the wolf in sheep's clothing, had already fallen for Punk and his cult of personality. Drew made it his mission to wake them up; to rip that smiling mask off of Punk's face and expose the putrid flesh beneath, show them all the monster that Punk truly was.

To do this, he used the same weapon that caused Punk's downfall in AEW; social media. He constantly mocked and prodded at Punk, hoping to elicit a reaction from the notoriously thin-skinned veteran. He got plenty; but only from the fans. Not from the one he craved! So he pushed harder. Vandalised his signature ringer tee, used Punk's own move set, his entrance, visited his favourite bakery in his beloved hometown and bought him muffins.

Soon, he found himself flying high. His popularity had taken a massive up-swing, tongues were wagging, people were sitting up and listening, waiting on tender hooks for his next move. So he fed them, more and more. Taking pot shots at Punk every opportunity he could on every platform at his disposal.

Until Punk had become something else. Something more. Sitting cross-legged on the announce desk opposite the man who had made that particular taunt famous, Drew called him 'my muse', telling Punk that 'you complete me'. And it wasn't a word of a lie. He now needed Punk, needed him like a crutch to lean on. Needed to feed that hate.

Somewhere along the line, Drew's mission had become an obsession. Not for his goal of exposing the man, but for the man himself!

He didn't want to love Punk...

..he needed to!

CM Punk - 'I love you because you love me!'

Punk, meanwhile, is the not-so-innocent innocent in all of this. Punk never wanted all this attention from Drew, calling him 'an ex-girlfriend that I can't get rid of' yet he's the one who's responsible for making Drew's unhealthy infatuation even worse.

Drew accused Punk of being a 'succubus', a sex demon that seduces men and sucks the em... 'life', shall we say, out of them. The metaphor fits well. Punk has a way of seducing those around him, both in the crowd and in the back, sometimes even to the point of insanity (a certain Maxwell Jacob Friedman immediately comes to mind!). Punk fans affectionally refer to it as Punk Derangement Syndrome.

Punk once told a crowd 'I love you because you love me'. He lives for the adoration! He feeds off of the spotlight and the attention it affords him, soaking up any and all reactions from the crowd. Cheer him, boo him, love him, hate him; so long as it's loud, he'll take it. Unlike Cody who struggled with the hate at AEW, Punk faced against the waves and waves of boos battering him from all sides with a shit-eating grin on his face, doing his worst to up the noise even more.

And this is precisely why he just can't drop this petty tit-for-tat with Drew. The man's obsession with him is feeding Punk, and while his attention is a nuisance at best - and dangerous at worst - it's just not in Punk's nature to be the bigger man and let it die. He has to keep poking the bear even if it might tear his face off (which, it eventually does, but we'll get to that Smackdown later).

And so the players are locked into battle. Neither of them willing participants but their respective obsessions have honed in on one another, fingers on the trigger and aching to fire, neither taking heed of who they hurt along the way.

To be continued...

Part 2

[chernabogs]

Fractal

Inc: Malleus, Prefect. WC: 2k Warnings: Dream horror, consumption of rotten fruit, everything seems happy but there's an underlying layer of 'somethings rotten in denmark (briar valley)' Excerpt: “Nothing.” You reply steadily. “I just haven’t been here before.”  Liar. Malleus remains still for a moment before he laughs, and you hate how warm the sound is as the sun comes out once more. “Well of course you have not been here. That is why I chose this place—I wanted to show my friends my home.” 

It’s you who causes the cataclysm this time. 

He’s in a field that’s warm, and for once the sun—which beats down on him from a baby blue sky—does not give him a migraine, nor does it make his skin itch with the ghostly sensation of hives. He’s sitting at the end of a long dining table with a white tablecloth concealing its mahogany structure. It’s adorned with an array of foods; fruits, vegetables, meats—a cornucopia of delights to dig one's fingers into. It’s what he anticipates happening upon the arrival of his guests, who will fill the twenty-two empty wooden chairs that are present. 

His gaze remains focused on the far end of the field, where a gap in the trees that create a barrier around where he sits is present. He remains still, motionless, as though he’s a wind up doll waiting for someone to turn his key. The sounds of cicadas screaming from the distant pines and the warm wind that brushes across his pale skin do little to stir him out of this strange state. He hardly even blinks. He merely sits and waits.

Until you appear at that gap. 

Then, like that key turning, everything comes to life. He takes a breath in and sits up, a smile curling on his thin lips as his hands come to rest on that pristine, white tablecloth. He remains still as he watches you approach. Your steps are shaky, and you seem tired as you take your time to reach where he sits, as though every step is a labour for you to complete. When you finally reach the other end of the table, you draw to a stop, your gaze transfixed on the feast before you. Perhaps you are looking at the meat, or perhaps you are looking at the flies that are beginning to garnish its surface. 

“You got my invitation.” Malleus’ voice is warm, as though he’s attempting to project a certain image of himself to you. You glance towards where he sits. He looks composed, regal, in the plain wooden chair with the sun creating a halo behind his head. He gazes back at you, and it feels like those green eyes are slowly peeling away each layer of flesh, parting each tendon and muscle, until he can see the white of your bone beneath. You swallow.

“I did.” Your voice is quiet as you resist the urge to look back at the gap in the trees. Three more pairs of eyes watch you from within the shadows as you try to walk your way through these steps. You’ve done this before. Many times before. “It was kind of you to invite me.” 

His smile remains as he doesn’t reply for a moment before gesturing to the seat—the one next to him. “Sit, Prefect. You look tired.”

You move slowly around the table until you reach the seat to which he is gesturing. When you pull it out, it rips up the earth beneath it, causing the scent of dirt to mix with that of decay. He pushes a glass filled with a clear liquid towards you and you dutifully take it, although you refrain from raising it to your lips. He drinks unashamedly and without care. 

“Am I early?” You ask, selecting each piece of dialogue in your mind with caution. You watch as he finishes drinking, setting the empty glass down as he does. His lips are stained slightly red from the action and his tongue darts out to clean them, slowly running along the bottom one as his gaze goes back your way.

“Yes, but that is of little concern. I have no objections to being in your company a moment longer,” he muses, sharp white teeth flashing as he observes you with amusement. “The others should be arriving soon.” 

Malleus looks back to the gap in the trees as you study his profile. The skin beneath his eyes looks slightly bruised up and along his cheekbones—the area where his overblot patterning is. His hair is brushed back from his forehead, revealing the scales beneath, and his expression is fixed into one of childish excitement. He wears white, but the edges of his sleeves are stained. “They all received an invitation. I made sure of it. I am not apt to forget my friends, unlike some.” 

“Perhaps they got lost.” You murmur, looking at that gap in the trees yourself as you do. You can see movement within the shadows as you continue to buy your time. The scent of decay grows until you’re eventually forced to look back to the feast. Wrinkled fruit, greenish meat, drooping herbs, and liquidated vegetables; the sight makes your stomach curl as you keep speaking. “After all, this place is unusual.” 

“Unusual?” Malleus’ head turns to look back at you, his eyes still too wide, his expression too exuberant. “What is so unusual about it, Prefect?” 

You feel your breath catch in your chest as you stare back. The movements by the gap have stopped as well, as though the entire scene has been paused with your single comment. You can hear the rustle of that warm wind through the corn field behind you, and the sun is soon covered by a passing cloud. You clench your hands in your lap.

“Nothing.” You reply steadily. “I just haven’t been here before.” 

Liar.

Malleus remains still for a moment before he laughs, and you hate how warm the sound is as the sun comes out once more. “Well of course you have not been here. That is why I chose this place—I wanted to show my friends my home.” 

The tension dissipates at that moment as Malleus picks up a few figs from the table. He sets them on his plate and presses a fork into one. You try to ignore how squishy it is, or the green that oozes from its inside. “Wouldn’t it have been better if we had dinner at your palace?” 

He doesn’t reply as he spears one piece of rotten fig with his fork, turning it over slowly before holding it out to you. His smile still doesn’t dissipate. “No. I do not think it would have been. I want my friends to feel connected to one another. I want them to feel like a family.”

You glance at the fig piece. It sags on the metal prongs, making your stomach twist in disgust. There’s expectation in Malleus’ eyes that conceal a glint of something else—a test. So far you have been selecting the right reactions, but it isn’t sufficient. 

You lean forward, keeping your gaze locked on his as you take the fig piece in your mouth. You’re trying hard not to gag as you chew slowly before forcing it down your throat. There’s a lingering after-taste of rot present and you finally grab at the water glass.

He chuckles and leans back before picking up another piece for himself. “I admit, it’s a bit sour, but tolerable all the same.” 

Sour? It’s rotten, but you refrain from saying this aloud as you drink. You said it aloud before, and the results went as poor as they could go. There’s only so many times you and the others can formulate a plan before it becomes apparent that it’s all for naught. Eventually you set your glass down with a grimace and watch as it immediately refills itself. It’s magic, obviously—Malleus has been throwing his magic around unashamedly and without care. The soil nurtures him, the sun gives him life, the winds carry his words. He is both the creation and the creator of the feast you sit at. The executioner, and perhaps the sacrifice as well.

Or maybe that role is solely for you. After all, you are the one he is feeding right now. 

You tilt your wrist slightly to catch a glance at the watch you wear around it. Phones and technology are pointless here—not that you have your phone anyway—so Lilia gave you this as a manual means. The hands are not moving, and instead remain fixed at five to five. You are still in a dream. 

“Are you impatient?” His voice causes you to drop your wrist quickly and look his way. It’s hard to mask the surprise on your face. In fact, it’s quite pointless. That razor sharp gaze that peeled away your skin when you first approached now cuts incisions into your skull as he tilts his head, studying you. “They have five minutes.”

Five minutes will never come. You’re not sure if Malleus even knows this. It’s as though he’s settled himself so deeply into this dream he’s created—a tick, gorging itself on the magic of its own making, unaware of how its body swells and strains until the point that it bursts from over-consumption. He’s becoming inflated with his power. It’s how his overblot has not ended, despite the way he hides it with glamour. 

“Are you sure you invited them?” You ask cautiously again, testing the waters. You see a twitch in his smile—the corner of his thin lip wavering slightly. His eyes remain wide. 

“Yes. I wrote the invites myself. Everyone got one—Lilia, Silver, Sebek, you. Those of Heartslabyul, of Savanaclaw, of Octavinelle, of all the rest. I considered those from RSA, but I would rather keep the peace for this event.” His hold tightens around the fork. You can see the threads fraying. You push. 

“Are you sure the invites were received? Did anyone tell you they would come?” You murmur, leaning a bit closer. You hate doing this—this is someone you consider your friend, perhaps more in another life, and you are not an orchestrator of someone's mental fracture. The cicada’s stop screaming. Another cloud passes over the sun. 

“You never RSVP.” He replies, his voice now more monotone and colder. His smile remains but his eyes have slid back to the emptiness you’ve been seeing since his overblot began. He looks to you once more, and you scramble to see some remnant of the peculiar prince you’ve come to know in those eyes. “And yet you came.”

“I’ll always come,” you reply quietly, the scent of rot growing stronger with each word. You see movement in your peripheral vision again. The sky darkens further, and the wind begins to grow cold. “Whether you mean it or not, I’ll always come. But I cannot say the same for everyone else. Sometimes people don’t arrive, or they leave without goodbyes. Sometimes—”

His expression twists. It’s like a child hearing something they don’t want to hear, or when they’re denied a toy they want so badly to be theirs. His body stiffens and his upper lip curls. “Stop it, Prefect.” 

His voice is low, dangerous. You’re pushing it again, just like all the other times so far. You see another figure approaching the table. Someone with silver hair, someone who looks as though they’ve aged many years in mere moments. They hold a weapon at their side. Your own hand darts out and grabs Malleus’ arm. Despite the demeanour, despite the rage, his arm is solid and warm beneath your grip. 

“Malleus,” you begin, desperation starting to lace in your voice. You see a flash of green and hear the clattering of something hitting the table, and then he jerks his arm away. You feel the crushing sense of overwhelming power before with a snap of his fingers he’s in a field that’s warm, and for once the sun—which beats down on him from a baby blue sky—does not give him a migraine, nor does it make his skin itch with the ghostly sensation of hives. He’s sitting at the end of a long dining table with a white tablecloth concealing its mahogany structure. It’s adorned with an array of foods; fruits, vegetables, meats; a cornucopia of delights to dig one's fingers into. 

It’s what he anticipates happening upon the arrival of his guests, who will fill the twenty-two empty wooden chairs that are present.

[unnoticed-poison]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔! 𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚅𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚇 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 °【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝟐°

Paaaart two is ouuuuuuut!

【 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟐 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟑 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 1

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 2

Chapter 5 is on AO3, Wattpad and Quotev :3

Anyways, enjoy ❣️✨

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Back at the hotel, Dicckie was discussing with Alastor about the commercial issue.

"HAH me? making a deal with 𝘺𝘰𝘶? Don't make me laugh."

Was the moth's reaction to Alastor's offer.

Did the bastard think he was a fool?

He'd rather rip out his remaining eye than strike a deal with that freak.

Alastor let out an amused chuckle as he lightly tapped the moth's head with his cane. " Not for your soul of course! Just a simple deal that is all!"

He had no use of such a worthless soul like his anyway.

Irritated, Dicckie swatted the cane away with his hand. "What could a demon like 𝘺𝘰𝘶 possibly want other than my soul?"

"Easy! I do this stupid commercial for you, and you never ask me to engage with this technology ever again, it's simple!"

"I mean.."

"Or! Charles can come back to absolutely nothing!" Alastor said with a careless shrug. "Your choice my friend!"

.....

"Fine." The moth grumbled, handing over the camera with a resigned sigh.

"Wonderfu-!"

"Sir! Sir! Sir!"

Nifty called with a bright smile as she barged into the room and pulled on his coat.

Alastor looked down at her with a soft smile. " Yes my dear?"

The little girl pointed to the living room and exclaimed. "Charles is on tv! He's famous now!"

What?

"Oh is that so?" Alastor said, his voice tinged with curiosity while tilting his head as the two men silently glanced at each other.

This was bad news.

"YES! Come and see!"

Was the last thing she said before running off.

Dicckie was suspicious now.

"Those meetings were never broadcasted before, what changed now?"

Alastor put his arms behind his back as he started walking. "Ooh I have a feeling I know who's behind this, let's just go for now and see how's our little prince holding up, shall we?"

Dicckie nodded and stood up.

Once they got there, they saw Angel Dust and Husk sitting on the couch, while Nifty laid on the table, swinging her feet while her single eye was glued to the tv screen.

The man grimaced when he heard 𝘩𝘪𝘮 speak.

"-I failed to seduce her-"

'You have got to be kidding me..'

Angel rolled his eyes with an unimpressed look while texting on his phone. "It's no wonder looking at you."

The moth sat down on the couch beside Husk as he watched the scene unfold.

Like every year, his ex-boss kept babbling about useless, unrelated stuff so that the meeting time would go to waste and the other party wouldn't have much time to say anything.

"Got a good 275 sir."

𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥?

Dicckie scoffed, what a rookie number, looks like Lute was still as slow as ever, he used to score much higher.

Of course, not as much as her, but still enough to be considered one of Adam's favorites.

Well, 𝘦𝘹-favorite now.

"You know those are my people, right..?"

"Of course! And that's what makes it even better!"

He sighed, his former boss hadn't changed a single bit.

Just as he expected, the man refused to listen to anything Charles was saying and began mocking him.

"-To move up the next extermination."

WHAT?!

Oh this was bad.

They could only watch in silence as Charles got thrown out of the room.

"Looks like Lucifer's brat fucked things up for us all! What a shocker, I'm sure your father will be 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥."

Alastor's eye twitched when he heard that.. insufferable voice.

He will make sure to deal with the man later.

........

Angel Dust snickered. "There goes our chance at survival, not that there was any to begin with." He mused, turning his attention back to his phone, frowning as hundreds of texts from his..boss kept coming in.

Alastor tapped Dicckie's head with his cane again and spoke in a mocking tone. "See? What did I tell you? Though I'm sure you expected this to be the outcome as well."

"Shut your damn mouth you-"

"Excuse me, are those yours?"

That voice....

Dicckie's eye immediately snap back, his heart skipping a beat at who he saw.

'It's her..'

"Oh look a pretty angel!" Nifty pointed.

Oh yes, she looked as beautiful as ever.

"Oh my! Is it just me, or does this woman look H.O.T!"

Dicckie frowned as the spider was basically undressing the woman with his eyes.

"Believe me, it's just you." Husk groaned while drinking his beer and glancing at the woman.

That was a lie.

"Aww what's wrong whiskers, upset that I'm not paying attention to you?"

"You wish."

Noticing the bloody hammer, Nifty added while jumping up and down on the table. " OOOH she's pretty AND a bad girl! I like her!"

Alastor hummed as he looked at the woman.

She was quite the beauty indeed.

Glancing down at Dicckie, he blinked when he noticed the stunned expression and the faint blush covering his cheeks.

Oh?

Interesting...

Feeling Alastor's gaze on him, the moth shot him a glare. "The fuck you looking at?"

"I couldn't help but notice that you look quite infatuated with her, tell me, is it love at first sight, or perhaps..." he glanced at the woman then back at him. "You know her already?"

?!

Shit!

"What the fuck are you babbling about!"

"Relaaax I was just playing with you~ there's no need to get so upset," he said, turning back to the tv.

This was now even more entertaining!

Wait..

What was Charles doing?

Everybody stared in shock as the...accident happened.

Husk spat out his drink.

Nifty covered her eye.

Angel raised a brow and smirked. "Looks like someone got lucky today."

Dicckie resisted the urge to punch Alastor when he started laughing, not noticing that his grip on the cane tightened.

This bastard was enjoying this!

Turning back, he could only watch with a heavy heart and pray for Charles.

This was 𝘯𝘰𝘵 going to end well.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

............

......

You two stayed motionless on the ground for a few moments, neither of you making a single sound.

....

Charles, upon hearing the sound of your nails slowly scratching across the ground, immediately snapped out of it and got off of you, staring down with widened eyes at what he had done.

Shit shit shit shit!!!

What have he done!?

He quickly helped you set up to your knees and started taking off his jacket.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!!" He exclaimed, avoiding looking at your cleavage with a red face. "I don't mean to!"

Just as he placed the jacket on you, the door in front of them opened with a loud thub, revealing Adam with a scowl on his face.

"What the FUCK is all this nois-"

The words brutally died in his throat when he saw this sight in front of him.

.........

What the 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 was he seeing right now.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Dicckie winced as he witnessed the two angels get involved.

Now it was really over for Charles.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

....

"YOU LITTLE SHIT!!"

In a blink of an eye, Charles found himself on the ground, groaning in pain while holding his broken nose.

Feeling something cold on his neck, he opened his eyes to see Lute looming over him, his mask gone, revealing his piercing eyes and twisted face full of hatred, the man tightened his grip on the spear, pressing it against his neck further.

Leaning in closer, and in a voice full of wrath and scorn, he spat out his words.

"You think you can just come in and humiliate one of our finest angels with your filthy hands and get away with it?"

Charles shook his head. "NO! I-"

"Save it you piece of shit."

While the two were arguing Adam moved over to you and helped you up to your feet, before spreading his golden wings to cover your body.

Turning his attention to the blonde, his expression shifted to a menacing glare while clenching his teeth.

"YOU FUCKING LITTLE LIMP DICK DEMON THE FUCK YOU TRYNA DO HUH?? TRYING TO GET YOUR DICK WET OR SOMETHING?!"

Flinching as the spear dug deeper into his flesh, Charles held his hands up. "That was not my intention I just-"

"Shut your fucking mouth, honestly, what else did I expect from Lucifer and that bitch's whiny brat? you-"

You remained silent during all this, unsure of how to react to everything that just happened.

You were just humiliated on live television, thousands of filthy sinners have seen you half-naked...

Suddenly, you felt a small tap on your leg and a voice spoke.

"Are you ok boss?"

Looking down, you saw Scramble glancing up at you, concern clear in his eyes, his hat was nowhere to be found and....

You paused when you noticed something horrifying.

Was that a 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 in his shell..?

With your eyes slightly widened from shock, you bent down and picked the egg up, your fingers lightly caressing the crack, afraid of causing any further damage.

"Your shell..."

"It doesn't hurt that much boss!"

........

Your eyes narrowed as you shot the demon a furious glare.

Carefully lowering Scramble back down, you shoved Adam's wings away from you.

"I will move up the damn exterminat- hey where are you going!?"

Looking over your shoulder, you smiled at your boss. "There's no need to do that Sir." You said, making your way over to Charles and Lute.

You had a more suitable punishment in mind.

Standing behind Lute, you spoke. " Please step aside Lute."

"But he has to pa-"

"I said, step aside."

.....

Lute gave in to your demand, quietly stepping back to let you stand in front of Charles, the two men looked at each other with confused expressions, waiting to see what you were going to do.

"I swear it was an accident!" Charles tried to explain as you helped him up, his hands stained from the blood that was flowing down his broken nose. "I'm really sorr-"

You softly pressed your finger against his lips, silencing him instantly.

Confused, a faint blush spread across his face from the contact.

With a subtle grin gracing your lips, you gave him a playful wink before proceeding to lift your leg and deliver a swift, powerful kick right to his most sensitive area.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! ❣️

Btwwww! One of my new friends made a Fanart for this fanfic! I can't post it now since it's a huge spoiler for future chaps so I won't post it until we reach that chapter.

Let me just say that I looooooooooooved it!!

That shit made me happy and motivated me so much I wrote the chapter in two days 😭

Buuuut

I drew the cute eggs! My friend helped with background so I could write the draft.

This is for chapter 1

And this is for this chapter!

Oh yeah future chapters will most likely be posted on AO3, Wattpad and Quotev

If you have any questions, feel free to ask ❣️

[pfhwrittes]

hello p! here with a prompt for tradie!141. i’m curious about how any of the fellas would react to reader teaching them a handy trick or easily solving a problem they’ve been struggling with on a job site.

hi sy! aw yis, more tradie!141 for everyone! so, i actually had two ideas for this one. initially i was going to go write how transmasc!tradie would go about bending pipe but i realised that it wasn't very body inclusive of me to assume that transmasc!tradie would be less capable than the boys physically so i've binned that one.

instead you get this instead. it's another johnny heavy instalment because he's a bloody drama queen.

TW: discussions of feet (in the context of keep them warm in your boots, not anything else).

it's a fucking miserable day on site. it's cold as shit, or as price had said "it's brass monkeys out there today lads" so everyone is more miserable than usual. well, nearly everyone.

kyle's alright because he's got the industrial heaters in the room he's working in, he claims it's to help the plaster to dry out evenly and to reduce the chances of causing damp. so he's swanning about in his base layer.

simon's layered up in a massive quilted hi-vis jacket and a skull print balaclava. johnny got a punch on the arm when he said that simon looks like the world's shittest bank robber. you were smart enough to keep your mouth shut even if you did privately agree with him.

price had begged off working, claiming it was too cold to be fucking about with shaving down doors so he's posted up in the site office with a little fan heater cranked up and a hand written sign on the door warning them all not to leave the door open under any circumstances while he goes through purchase order invoices.

but johnny? johnny's miserable as fuck about it and come break time he's bitching up a storm about how he "cannae even feel my fuckin' toes in my boots!" as he huddles around his steaming mug of coffee.

you make a sympathetic noise in the back of your throat as you wrap your chilly hands around your own mug and allow yourself to zone out a bit as he carries on.

"how come yer not freezin' yer tits off then, flash?" johnny's question interrupts your musing about pipe lagging.

"got heat patches stuck to my socks mate." you tell him nonchalantly before you take a careful sip from your mug.

"what?!" johnny sounds scandalised and you're not sure if it's because you're warmer than him or if it's because of your slightly odd way of keeping warm.

you just shrug and take another careful sip. honestly you're a bit baffled that johnny doesn't have heat patches in his boots. it was one of the first tricks you'd learned when you were working with your previous company.

"g'wan then, show us." johnny leans forward eagerly so you pop your mug on the table and bend down to unlace your boots.

johnny watches with a look of concentration as you pull off your boot, one thick woollen sock and a plastic bag sandwich bag with the zipper ripped off (which earns you a pair of raised eyebrows), to reveal your thin cotton sock with a heat patch stuck to the sole of your foot.

"mate, that's pure genius!" johnny praises loudly. "'m definitely gonna dae that the morrow."

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - Pyromaniac Du Lac 🔥 (Spoilers)

NGL, as much as I love this finale, I'm disappointed. I wanted to see way more violence.

That's the thing about necromancy--be careful who/what you wake up!

"FATHER! THE SLEEPER HAS AWAKENED!"

There he goes.

Was that NECESSARY, smashing that old man into the window like that!?

You better ACT, JACOB, with your Arya Stark hit list!

I'm so sorry I laughed at his mental illness, but MEOW!? Omg he's cracked. XD

So they gave him a baby scythe/machete--I wanted Sam's scythe. :( But it's cool how Louis broke his sickle screaming at Armand, and HAD to switch to the machete.

Not Louis talking to his victims, who help him plot the murders, LOL. He can't concentrate with all that French jibber-jabber! He's got a mass murder to plot! Yeah, he'll bring your truck back in mint condition! LOLOLOL.

Yeah, STFU corpse!

IKR, STFU Armand! Ain't nobody thinking about YOU! (But actually, Louis WAS thinking about him, and warned him to stay away, sooo.... :\)

The whole Sam reveal later was SO good, I love this show!

(Not Louis shading Hans' ugly costume. XD) And Tuan WANTS to die? Whaaaat?

LFG

This jazzy film noir crime boss heist music is an interesting choice.

HIS EYES DILATING.

Louis went full-blown Carrie. 😈

I CANNOT BELIEVE Y'ALL OFF-SCREENED THE SLAUGHTER, AMC. 😩

You showed Lestat dragging Louis by his effing JAWBONE, and punching a HOLE thru a PRIEST, but can't show us Louis cutting a red streak thru that stupid theatre!? Wtf!?

My Humanities arse sucks at math, but my bff's in STEM and immediately caught that the math wasn't mathin here.

Yeah, eff that flute guy!

(Estelle had me dying.) Interesting tea though--I wonder who's in the London coven?....

Louis' EYES this episode were the best yet. 👌

(RIP Estelle; I liked you the most.) I just wanna know if Louis ignited that rag from all the way at the Theatre, or if something in the exhaust or whatever triggered the fire on its own. (And now we know what that weird reaction from Santiago was about.)

Not Louis calling Santiago by his government name, LOL. 😭

AND Lou called you a colonizer too, you "'bleached-blonde, bad-built, butch body" British hack! XD

Using Francis at the end of every bar(b) was right out the "Crodie" Kendrick vs Drake playbook, I LOVE IT--THIS IS SURLOIN BEEF.

DANG, emasculation and evisceration in equal measure! No one cares about the eraser when the pencil's shaved down to a nub!

And not Louis using "Come to Me" as a death threat!

That MIMIC Gift must've STUNG, Francis! 😜

His death was WAY TOO FAST. These are the kinds of mofos you need to SAVOR.

That shot of the machete was sooo vintage Hollywood noir, it's really clever, especially to be used for Gothic Horror.

Rot In Pieces, FRANCIS! 💩🔪

[agirlhasnonamehotd]

I give you a fluff piece about the crew playing Twister!

Alright, alright, look what I’ve got for game night!”

It’s Thursday night on the Prometheus, and to bring a little piece of home to the crew, Janek instilled a game night on board.

Monopoly, Life, Risk, Scattegories - you name it, Janek managed to bring it.

Tonight is a new one: Twister.

Vickers, Shaw, Holloway, David crowd around Janek. The newest guest crew member, the Engineer, wearily hangs back. He’s seen how past game nights have gone, and it looks more like fighting than fun. Nevertheless, he watches on with curiosity.

Janek lays the dotted mat on the floor and takes out the spinner.

“Everyone know how to play?” he asks.

All but the Engineer nod.

“Who wants to fill in the Big Guy?”

“I think,” David muses with a wicked smile, “ maybe it would be more fun to let him watch, and see what he makes of it.”

Holloway, feeling ever inadequate in the Engineer’s presence, likes the idea of having even such a trivial advantage.

“Sure,” he says, “let’s see if he’s as smart as Shaw thinks he is.”

From behind them, the Engineer snorts and glares down at Charlie.

Shaw, her pixie-like eyes aglow, grins and says, “I actually agree with David. Is that okay?”

She addresses the Engineer, who gives a slight nod in her direction.

Vickers, too, adds that she wouldn’t mind seeing a blind reaction from the apathetic giant.

So the game begins. Charlie, David and Shaw volunteer to begin and at first, all is as it should be. Shaw starts with a left foot on yellow, Charlie is next with a right hand on green, and David follows up with his left hand on red.

Easy enough.

On the second round the Engineer moves forward, particularly when Shaw has to lean over in front of Charlie to put her left hand on blue.

“Well isn’t this a mighty fine view?” he exclaims, whistling suggestively.

Another huff comes from the Engineer. He may not understand the rules of the game, but he sure seemed to comprehend Charlie’s innuendo.

It’s Charlie’s turn to put a left hand on blue and he’s happier than a pig in shit for this twist of fate. He reaches over Shaw’s body, partially covering her, his pelvis dangerously close to her bum.

“Damn, if I don’t have all the luck-”

“Don’t be a creep, Holloway,” Vickers muttered.

Now, the Engineer is pacing.

Janek begins another round and an impossible spin is dealt to David- or so they thought. In an almost acrobatic display he moves one foot underneath the other.

“Aww no fucking fair!” Charlie whines, “ Sir Synthesis over there is cheating!”

“Dr. Holloway, I am merely using my advantages,” David replies, “ but how sad that, even in your current position, you still have none.”

Janek snorts, but quickly covers it with a cough.

The game goes on.

And, unfortunately for Shaw, her spin backs her right into Charlie.

“If you say one bloody word…”she warns him.

However, he doesn't have time to respond because the Engineer is now charging towards their tangled bodies, rage in his eyes.

Charlie gulps and speaks cautiously, “David, what does he want?”

David, from his pretzel-like position, speaks to the Engineer in his language. A deep,booming voice replies, complete with animated hand gestures.

David grins, clearly amused.

“He… he thinks this is some sort of sexual tryst- maybe even foreplay, if you adjust the translation for our language.”

“Eew, no, never!” Shaw declares in disgust, her shoulder shuddering and bumping into Charlie. He loses his balance and topples over, taking Shaw with him.

The Engineer gently lifts Shaw off the mat and leaves Charlie, and his wounded ego, in a heap.

David turns back to him and begins another indecipherable speech. This time, the Engineer’s eyes go wide and a hint of a smile curls the corner of his lips. In perhaps the most elegant and speedy of maneuvers he pulls the Twister mat out from under them.

David maintains perfect balance like china whose tablecloth has been ripped from beneath it. Charlie is dumped unceremoniously onto the floor.

“OUCH! What the fuck was that for?!

Two large and rapid paces forward bring the Engineer to Janek. He plucks the spin board from his hands. With the mat draped over the same arm, he makes his way back to Shaw, takes her hand, and leads her out of the room with some degree of urgency.

“What just happened?” Janek asks in confusion.

“Well, our guest thought this was some sort of mating ritual,” David divulges, “and I simply told him not how we are playing at present.”

“What do you mean ‘at present’, David?” There was a menacing tone to Charlie’s voice.

David, in a very tranquil way, arches his torso back and sighs.

“I also shared that when played naked it-”

Charlie has never moved so fast in his life. He’s up off the ground and flying down the hall, sneakers squeaking with speed.

“Shaw! Shaw! WAIT!”

“Think he’ll catch up with them?” Janek asks.

“If she's smart, she won't answer,” Vickers answers.

“I should return to Med Bay,” David mumbles, untangling himself with ease.

“Why is that?”

“Shaw might need a muscle relaxer after all the Twisting she's about to do.”

Note: I did not intend for this to have a suggestive ending- the only sexual undertone was going to be the Engineer mistaking this for a sexual game. However, once again, my love for the Big Guy controlled my writing. Someday, I'll steer away from this...

Just not today!

[frenchfrywrites]

His Treasure

MINORS DNI

Warnings: Service/sub top male reader, power/dom bottom yandere Rook Hunt, reader has an oral fixation, possessiveness, jealousy, obsessiveness, praise, lil dumbification, mommy kink, feminization, blowjob, ruined orgasm, sub space, google translate french

A weight on your lap wakes you up in the middle of the night. You blink away the sleep from your eyes, groaning softly as you adjust from being ripped from your peaceful slumber. 

“Rook?” you mumble, faintly making out his face from the moonlight seeping in from your open window. 

“Bonne soirée, mon amour,” he greets you softly, cupping your face with a gloved hand. Knowing it’s him atop of you, you bring your hands to his thighs, which are stationed at either side of your hips, squeezing the muscled flesh there affectionately. You’re delighted by his presence, despite not knowing why he’s in your room, or how he got here for that matter. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask sleepily, leaning into his touch. He hums softly, his sharp green eyes practically glowing in the moonlight. His hand goes from your face to your neck, finding your pulse and pressing there gently. Your breath hitches, and any exhaustion from being awoken leaves your body as goosebumps bloom across your skin. 

“I saw you with Cater this afternoon,” Rook muses. You nod, remembering the moment in question, but you don’t remember Rook being around when it happened. “Whatever could Monsieur Magicam want from you?” you audibly swallow at his question,

“Um he just wanted to see my notes for Trein’s class, and then he wanted to take a picture together,” you explain, feeling nervous, even though you know you don’t have any reason to be. Rook hums again, smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I see,” he sighs, “I understand his desire to photograph you, mon beau, however…” his gaze finally shifts away from you. The pause he takes is light, but you feel uneased by it all the same. “I hope he does not post it,” Rook finally continues, “I would be very displeased if others could so easily acquire access to your beauty. You are a rare jewel, a treasure, and you should not be exploited,” he rambles, returning his attention to you. You smile, for even though it’s excessive, any praise from Rook makes your heart flutter.

Rook returns your smile lovingly, letting out a pleased sigh as he looks down at you.

“Ah, mon amour, je suis désolé, I just can’t help myself when it comes to you,” he leans down to kiss your cheek, “forgive me, it’s selfish, but mommy wants to keep you all to himself,” he whispers in your ear. An excited shiver runs down your spine, and you can already feel the beginnings of arousal setting in.

“I’ll ask Cater not to post the picture,” you tell him, wanting nothing more but for your lover to be pleased with you. Rook kisses your cheek again before pulling away a bit,

“Tell him to delete it,” he all but orders. You nod, and Rook smiles happily. “Good boy,” he hums as he begins pulling off his gloves. 

Slowly, painfully so, he brushes his now bare fingers against your lips, before leaning down to kiss you properly. You accept the kiss eagerly, opening your mouth when his tongue licks against your lips. Rook’s hands find their way to your chest, and he presses his thumbs against your nipples. You can feel him smile into the kiss when you moan from his light touches. 

When he pulls away, he leaves you breathless and aching for more. “I want you inside me,” he hums, grinding back against your half hard cock.

“Yeah,” you practically whine, bucking your hips up, chasing the pleasure. Rook makes a noise that’s halfway between a moan and a laugh at your reaction. 

“So impatient,” he chastises, his hands moving downwards so he can help you pull off your sleep shirt. You flush as Rook stares you down. It’s moments like this that remind you of your lover's fascination with hunting. There’s no better way to put it, but he makes you feel like caught prey at times. 

“So impatient, but alas, I can’t deny you,” he laughs, pulling his own shirt off. Now it’s your turn to admire him. Uncontrollably, you salivate looking at his chest. Your arousal grows as you remember how many times you’ve sucked and played with his nipples as he’s cradled your head and waxed poetic about you. 

“Ah,” he runs his own hands over his chest, instantly taking notice of where you’re focused on, “does my baby boy want to suck on mommy’s breasts?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you moan again, leaning up so you can do so. Rook stops you by pushing your chest back onto the bed. He tuts,

“I know you have better manners than that, mon amour,” you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Sorry, please, can I, mommy?” Rook smiles at your correction. 

“You may,” he permits, and you can’t get your mouth on him fast enough. Rook laughs at your zeal, but is cut off when you take one of his nipples into your mouth and suck. He moans softly, holding your head gently. “There we go, good boy,” you moan at his praise, looking up to see his pleasured expression. 

“Hm if only mommy had milk for you,” he says dejectedly, and your cock throbs at the thought. You whimper, sucking more fervently, like any second now your wish will be granted. Rook arches his back, pressing your face more against his chest.

“You make me feel so-oh good,” he coos, moving your face from one nipple to the other. You give the other side the same attention, sucking and licking at his skin. There have been times when you’ve mouthed at his skin for hours, but tonight you’re wound up and itching to be inside him. 

“Please,” you groan, pulling away from his chest, “please can I fuck you mommy?” you ask, oh so politely. 

“Asking me so nicely,” he grins down at you, “how could I possibly say no?” leaning down, he kisses you lovingly. Your hands wander for the first time tonight, tugging on the waistband of his pants. Rook assists you, and sooner than later you’re both naked, your clothes in a heap on the floor. 

You’re more than happy to be fully undressed, because it was starting to get uncomfortable having your dick strain against your sleep pants. Plus, now you can see Rook’s pretty cock, and how hard he is. You find yourself salivating once again as you stare at him unabashedly. Rook lets out a breathy giggle, jerking his hips up so his dick bobs against his stomach.

“You want mommy in your mouth, non?” you whine at being called out. He hums, “I think you might have an oral fixation, mon cher,” he jokes lightly. You don’t respond, and your silence is as good of an answer as anything you could’ve said. He touches your lip again, “nevertheless, that will have to wait until later,” you nod, excited by the promise of a future blowjob, “right now you have to stretch me.” He pauses,

“Do you think you can do that? Or do you need mommy’s help?” he teases. 

“I can do it, I just need-” you pause, looking around. Rook reaches behind you, under the pillow where you were soundly asleep not long ago. He presents you with a vial of lube you didn’t even know was there, and you’re far too consumed with lust to wonder how it got there. “Thank you mommy,” you mumble softly, lubing up your fingers as fast as possible. 

“You’re welcome, baby,” he kisses your face, then leans forward, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, so you can reach around and finger him open. 

As your fingers brush against his puffy hole, you busy your mouth by sucking a mark onto his neck. You can feel his pulse under your tongue, it quickens when you press one into him. 

“Good boy,” he coos, pressing himself back against your hand. Spurred on by his praise, you ease another finger into him, spreading your fingers and working him open for you. 

You have him gasping for breath and moaning in no time. Your cock is throbbing and aching with need as you fuck him with three fingers. 

“Enough,” he says gently, after a moment, “fuck me,” you whimper at his command, giving a final kiss against his skin before pulling away.

Slowly, you ease your fingers out of him, and grab the lube again. You coat your cock with it, then look to Rook for permission. He smiles at you affectionately,

“So sweet,” he kisses you lips chastely, “you know how to beg, don’t you?” 

“Please, mommy, please let me fuck you,” you whine, your hands squeezing the meat of his thighs so you can ground yourself. Rook lets out a pleased hum, and aligns himself with your dick. You watch as he lowers himself inch by inch until he’s fully seated on you.

“Mama,” you gasp, feeling overwhelmed beyond belief already. Rook doesn’t let you adjust to the feeling of his hot, wet, clenching hole, before he starts moving. “Mommy- Rook- wait-” he pauses, holding himself up with just your tip inside. 

“Were you going to cum, mon trésor?” he asks breathlessly. You nod, and he moans, “that’s okay, that’s okay,” he reassures, kissing you lovingly, “tell me when you’re ready, my love.” A couple heavy, steadying breaths later you feel good enough to continue, and you tell him as much.

Once again Rook slides down your cock, and sets up a slow pace for you. 

“It makes mommy very happy that- ah- I have this effect on you,” he confesses, gazing at you fiercely, the way he looks at you when you catch his eye across the packed halls and you already know he’s been looking at you the whole time. “Hah, my pussy feels so-oh good, non?” you groan and nod, your hips jerking up into him, he grins wildly, ��you only want mommy, oui? Oh, you’d only fuck me? You’d only love me?” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble, grasping weakly at his thighs, and letting him ride you into the bed. 

“Say it,” he all but begs, picking up the pace.

“Nghh, I only wuh-want you mommy, and I oh-only wanna fuck you, ah-and I only love you,” you struggle through it, your brain muddled with lust, but that doesn’t seem to phase Rook. He bounces on your cock, moaning at your words, clenching tightly around you. And then, catching you entirely off guard, Rook cums. 

His mouth drops open, letting out erratic breaths as he rides himself through his orgasm, his cum making a mess of your stomach and chest. Awestruck, you watch him, getting so close to your own climax, yet you’re unable to finish before he slows down and slumps against you.

“Mommy?” you can’t help but sound so small at this moment, so unsure of what’s going to happen next, all tense and stressed over not being able to cum. Rook runs a hand through his hair, then gives you a soft smile. 

“I’m sorry baby,” he leans in to kiss you, “ah, that took me off guard as well,” he confesses. You whine as he begins to lift himself off your lap. Rook shushes you, “don’t fret, mommy is going to make you feel good,” he promises. 

Rook lifts off your cock, then pushes you so you’re laying down fully. He collects his cum from where it splattered against your bodies, then lifts his hand to your mouth. You drop your jaw obediently, and clean up his fingers, moaning at the taste. 

“Good boy, now,” he takes his fingers from your mouth, “I recall telling you that you could take me in your mouth earlier,” your eyes widen as you too remember his words. There’s a few seconds of readjusting, and then Rook has his thighs on either side of your face, his flaccid penis just inches away from your awaiting mouth.

Not wasting another moment, he eases his cock inside of your mouth, and you take all of him inside easily. It’s different from when you’ve sucked off his erect dick, that much is obvious. You simply hold him in your mouth, sucking and swallowing around him, cleaning his cock of any leftover cum. As you hold him in your mouth, the outside world disappears fully, and you sink into the happy, fuzzy feeling you only get with Rook.

“Ah, look at you,” Rook muses, tracing the features of your face lovingly, “my sweet boy, taking me so well, making me feel so good.” You feel him twitch in your mouth, and pre leaks from your neglected dick. “Submissive, pacified, and impeccable,” you moan around him, and his dick begins to swell in your mouth. “All mine, making me feel good, only me,” he rambles, and you know from the wild look on his face that warning bells should be ringing, but currently all you can feel is euphoria. 

Your eyes fluttered shut at some point, as your mouth fills with his hardening dick. You have to stop yourself from choking as it presses against your throat. If drool is seeping from your mouth from the intrusion, you’re too far gone to realize it. 

When you feel a hand circle around your dick, your eyes open up. Rook, arching his back and reaching behind himself to jerk you off, is the sight you’re met with. The lube still wet on your dick allows for him to stroke you smoothly. His thighs squeeze around your head as he stabilizes himself. 

You moan around his length, jerking your hips into his touch. Rook smiles down at you, “are you close, mon amour?” he asks breathlessly, shallowly thrusting his now fully hard dick further down your throat.

You don’t answer- you can’t, of course- but the way your dick twitches and leaks pre is evidence enough. He quickens his pace then gives special attention to your tip; the fire in your loins grows, and you feel your cock twitch. He’s pulling off all the stops, and it’s having the desired effect on you. You grab his hips, squeezing the flesh there and pulling him closer, so his cock is as far down your throat as possible, and your nose is buried fully in his pubic hair.

“Ah-” Rook gasps, “go ahead baby, cum for mommy,” he murmurs, looking at you through his lashes. His permission topples you over the edge with a groan and a hip thrust. Your eyes glaze over, pleasure overcoming every ounce of your being. 

Rook catches your cum in his hand, carefully working you off until you come down from your high. Nearly a second later, he cums for a second time, down your throat. You swallow it down, choking and gurgling around him as it shoots down your throat and into your stomach. 

In a haze, you keep sucking and licking around his cock until he begins to lift his hips. “Come on, love,” he coaxes you to let him go. You lick your drool slicked lips once his cock leaves your mouth, a satisfied smile gracing your face. Rook mirrors your smile, flopping down next to you. 

He wipes his cum covered hand on your bedding, then hauls you into his arms. You’re still in that fuzzy space where you aren’t fully there, but you know you like being held, so you press yourself as much as you can against him. This pleases Rook immensely. 

“Bien précieux,” he says softly, “my darling treasure. I love you so much,” he looks expectantly down at you. Wanting nothing more than to please him, you reply with a hoarse,

“Love you too.” Rook hums, 

“It’ll just be the two of us together forever, isn’t that right mon cher?” he asks, taking advantage of your sleepy, eager to please state. You nod, and Rook kisses you before you both succumb to your exhaustion. 

You sleep soundly in his arms, unaware to the fact that you’d just sealed your fate with Rook.

[imliketheiceifreeze]

Recombinant Miles Quaritch x OC

My Little Scientist- Chapter One

Warnings: Smut themes, Minors DNI

2,182 words

Blue skin glistening with sweat moved over bulging muscles that showed years of dedication, beads of sweat dripping down a long neck before pooling at the clavicle. Gaia's tongue instinctively dipped out of her mouth to lick her lips.

"Quit eye fucking the colonel for once Gaia."

"I was not!"

She spat, tearing her eyes away from his tall form as he commanded his troupes so effortlessly in the heat of the Pandoran sun.

"Oh you so were, you've got it baaad for him."

Her good friend and fellow scientist June smirked.

"Ugh as if, that man is so.."

She trailed off, thankful to be interrupted by Mike.

"What are we talking about here ladies?"

He asked, slapping his food tray down beside them both, taking a seat next to June.

"Oh just Gaia's hopeless crush on Colonel Quaritch."

"Pahahah, oh I would not have expected that."

They both teased, much too loud for her liking as she covered her cheeks in her palms, attempting to hide her heated face.

"I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON THE COLONEL."

She all but screeched, taking an aggressive bite from the bread roll in front of her.

"Oh so you just want to fuck him then, coz honey the way you looked at that man I thought you were about to go into heat,"

June jibed, both her and mike howling with laughter at their own hilarious nature.

"How would it even work? I mean their dicks must be at least 15 inches,"

Mike chipped in, watching intently as Junes eyes crinkled with laughter, small tear droplets forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Now who's the one thinking about their dicks?"

Gaia only mumbled, attempting to ignore them both to steal another glance at the colonel out on the field. She really didn't have a crush on him, as a scientist she just appreciated the technology it took to create such a brilliant warrior's physique- was all she thought as her eyes glazed over his massive forearms, striped like a tigers fur.

"There she goes again, earth to Gaia,"

June snapped her fingers in front of her face making her glower.

"Wow you really need to get laid,"

another man you didn't know too well mused, obviously eavesdropping on your conversation.

"Go away Abe, only me and Mike are allowed to tease Gaia, I'll absolutely destroy you if you upset my baby,"

June giggled, pinching her cheeks and cooing, causing her to swat her hand away and grumble in annoyance.

"Can you and Mike stop flirting in front of me its making me sick,"

she narrowed your eyes at Mike whilst June pretended to dry heave dramatically.

"Oh stop being grumpy because a certain someone hasn't noticed you,"

Mike Laughed halfheartedly, pushing at her forehead.

"Why don't you try and make a move Gai?"

June questioned, for once in sincerity. She were silent in thought for a moment before answering honestly.

"Come on, the Colonel's not gonna go for a girl like me,"

her eyes cast downwards a little as she attempted to hide her disappointment.

"Don't be like that, you're gorgeous trust me,"

June stroked her arm softly to cheer her up.

"You have to say that you're my friend,"

she whined, tipping her head back in frustration.

"Um I certainly do not, I can tell Mike he looks exactly like a sewer rat even though we're friends."

"Hey!"

Mike slapped her arm playfully causing them to fall into another argument as Gaia tuned out, thoughts mainly focused on a certain soldier and how they looked during strenuous physical exercise.

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

After her lunch, Gaia had settled back into the lab, running through various samples of Pandoran plants, yielding fascinating results about the connection between the planet and every living being. It truly was a wonderful place and how she wished she could inhabit her very own recombinant body.

A firm knock at the door ripped her from her thoughts and her eyes almost popped out of her skull at the sight of the Colonel himself stooping underneath the doorframe to enter her own tucked away laboratory.

"ahem,"

he cleared his throat, seeming a little out of place in such a small room.

"I was told I'd find the Na'vi expert here,"

he gestured to her, keeping a wide stance with one hand resting on his belt loops.

"Um I wouldn't say expert,"

she faltered, causing his gaze to harden.

"But I mean, I'm one of the scientists currently studying the interactions between Pandora and the organisms that inhabit it,"

she babbled nervously, the catlike golden eyes in front of her causing her to stutter as they seemed intent on holding her gaze.

"Gaia Ambros?"

He questioned, raising a brow, seemingly unimpressed at her insecure nature.

"Yep that's me sir."

"Well then.."

His grimace turned into a predatory smile, eyes glowing as they bored into her own intensely,

"They tell me that you're the expert round here darlin', How's about you give me some lessons in this whole Na'vi bullshit?"

He cocked his head to the side, causing her cheeks to heat up further at the nickname as she struggled not to let her eyes drop to admire his impressive form up close.

"uh...lessons?"

She asked incredulously, biting the inside of her cheek nervously.

"That's what I said lil' darlin', I don't like repeating myself,"

he tutted, growing impatient with this drawn out conversation.

"Um, well I guess I can teach you what I know about Pandora if you want sir... when would you like me to?"

She asked, craning her neck from her seated position to meet his eyes once again.

"In the evening at 19:00 sharp, come to my office,"

he commanded, not acknowledging nor thanking her for her offer as he turned to stride away, ducking under the door frame and vanishing as quickly as he had appeared, leaving her head spinning with possibilities as she tried to refocus herself on the samples in front of her that had long since lost their intrigue.

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

"He did what?"

June screeched in her ear as she tried to hush her on her way to the canteen.

"He just said he wanted lessons about Pandora,"

she attempted to speak calmly, knowing she had her first little meeting in only a few hours.

"Lessons my ass, there's gotta be another reason he wants you all alone in his office at night,"

she wiggled her eyebrows at Gaia.

"Maybe he just wants some relief after his long hard days as a Colonel, it must be so difficult,"

she mused, dropping into a deep register to impersonate his voice,

"Oh Gaia just try to fit it in, just the tip will be enough, yeah that's it, there's a good little scientist."

Gaia practically shoved her into the wall, storming off in front of her, attempting to purge the dirty scenarios out of her mind before she would have to be in a room alone with the man.

"Oh come on I was just teasing,"

June pouted at her, hoping to win her forgiveness.

"Sure,"

she murmured, taking her seat at the usual table beside Mike and a few of the other scientists. June then began a dramatic retelling of her story with the Colonel to the whole table, causing giggles to be heard all round as Gaia hung her head in shame, trying to fill the pit in her stomach with the food in front of you.

"Oh yeah, I set that up,"

Mike stated nonchalantly as he continued to eat the stew and stale bread provided by the RDA.

"You what?"

Gaia finally tuned back in, confusion set in her features as she wondered how on earth he could have.

"Pulled a few strings, got some RDA soldier mates and higher ups you know, just recommended you for one of their special missions, said you were keen to work with the Colonel yada yada... I guess it's not something they hear everyday,"

he snorted, making her eyes widen in shock for the second time that day. Cursing out at the thought that the whole ship now practically thinks she's begging for the Colonel's dick and she wished the ground could swallow her then and there.

"You can thank me later,"

he smirked, patting her back smugly as she sat stunned, still processing the news.

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

7pm unfortunately rolled around far too quickly and Gaia trudged her feet towards the huge recombinant Colonel's office, somewhat terrified of what would occur.

"Well there you are goldilocks, you gonna come in or stand there all day?"

Herr mouth ran dry, looking up at the sneering man as he gestured her into his office- equipped with an enormous chair, desk, even a Na'vi sized coffee mug sat on the table. It all made her feel a bit like Alice in wonderland if she was honest.

"Yes sir,"

she mumbled, stepping in tentatively and looking around in bewilderment

"Oh take a seat wherever you want darlin',"

he jutted his chin out, referencing her awkward stance as he calmly lowered himself in the chair behind his desk. So she took the liberty of attempting to drag another large chair to the opposite side of the table in order to face him, failing miserably as she found she was unable to even move the thing an inch, huffing in frustration at the pathetic display.

"Oh right, sorry there,"

a voice rang out from behind her and the chair was lifted from her hands by two much larger blue ones to place it effortlessly in the location she'd been struggling so much to bring it to. Half of her wondered if the colonel had purposefully not moved the chair prior to her arrival to watch her suffer.

"Um thanks,"

she murmured, blushing darkly as she eventually slumped down in the large chair, making an effort not to brush her legs with her superior.

"So what have you got for me today goldilocks?"

The nickname made her squint in annoyance, she'd almost prefer if he'd just come out and call her a dumb blonde.

"I was going to teach you about the connection between Pandora and the Na'vi people,"

she straightened herself out, watching him raise his eyebrows and smirk, his eyes telling her to go ahead.

She continued with her little speech for a while, as the Colonel eventually leaned his head on his hands, eyes studying her face curiously and allowing their legs to lean together comfortably in the tight space.

After an hour had passed she deemed it long enough and decided to end the lesson.

"Well that was... interesting,"

Colonel Quaritch mused, showing his fangs a little when he spoke.

"Hmm I'm glad you thought so,"

she replied attempting to ignore his sarcasm.

"Well I'd better get going,"

she began to push herself up from the chair but a foot knocked her leg out from under her, causing her to fall back down. She glared at the culprit, only causing his smug smile to widen.

"Not so fast sunshine, I have another proposition for you."

She gulped nervously, why did the question sound so suggestive coming from his mouth?

"u-m and what would that be sir?

"Calm down brainiac I'm not gonna force you to... anyway.."

he coughed, laughing to himself.

"I'm going on a mission to the Na'vi forest in the next three days, I would like you to accompany me and my troupes to help us...connect with 'Eywa'."

He seemed disbelieving of her teachings but nevertheless, she'd never pass up the chance to see Pandora up close.

"Absolutely Sir,"

she rocked forward in your chair in sheer excitement.

"Well then, ain't that outstanding"

He clapped a hand down on her shoulder, the force leaving shockwaves ringing through her body, reminding her of how pathetically weak she was in comparison with both the recombinants and any Na'vi people she might stumble upon during the mission.

"Sir,"

she tested the waters before propositioning her question to him. He raised his eyebrows in confusion, before quickly withdrawing his hand as though he may have offended her.

"I have a question for you."

"Well ask away sunshine I haven't got all day."

He crossed his arms over his chest, causing the muscles in his arms to strain against his taut skin, rippling whenever he shifted slightly.

"Well It's just as a human I'm so weak,"

she paused watching a smirk appear on his lips.

"In return for helping you and your soldiers, I'd like to request my own recombinant body."

"Ahh, I see sunshine, I think that can be arranged for you... since you've been so generous."

He looked down at her mockingly, though soon she hoped they would be on equal footings, more or less. She nodded at him, starting to leave, hoping he wouldn't kick her back into her seat again.

"See you in three days cupcake, don't make me wait."

He called after her and she had the slightest feeling his eyes were burning holes into her back as she sauntered away, feeling quite proud of the arrangement she'd come to.