#royal rumble leak

[jenxgg]

🤯

Support local wrestling 🤼‍♀️

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRpQhSo4/

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Predaking x Reader - Breeding.

(First time writing valveplug ever, please let me know if I got anything wrong/where I can improve. I also cross-posted on Ao3. Thanks!)

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“Mnngah… Pr-Predaking…” You moaned helplessly beneath the behemoth that was your Conjunx, your mate. You hear him growl into your audials, but you can barely focus on anything but his large, primary spike thrusting into you, all but piercing your gestational forge. His smaller, secondary spike rubs against your anterior node and belly with each thrust, the combined feeling of both drawing out desperate, whiny gasps.

“M-more, please more…!”

He chuckles above you, a warm ex-vent washing over your back. The room is almost unbearably hot, each vent you take barely doing anything to cool down your frame. In your internal HUD you see a warning about overheating, but you ignore it, turning off the warning system.

“Such a greedy little mate you are… Who am I to deny you?” Predaking begins to pick up speed, his thrusts becoming harder. You gasp and groan into the pillow, your tears soaking the plush cushion. Groans turn into squeals as your royal lover shifts your hips, changing your position ever so slightly, yet the ridges of his spike rub against your valve sensors in such a way that the renewed stimulation brings you closer to crashing, falling into euphoria.

“Predaking! Oh, oh Primus I’m- I’m going to-”

“Overload for me, my queen.”

Your scream reverberates around the cave, your frame shaking as you feel your calipers work feverishly on Predaking’s spike, all but trying to milk him of his transfluid. Not a moment later does he overload, spilling his seed deep inside of you and coating your chassis from his secondary spike. You shake in the berth, tired, sore, but oh so full.

Whimpering as he pulls himself out of you, you hear and feel him hum in approval, satisfied at the sight of your overfilled, puffy valve spilling his transfluid onto your berth. You can feel it leak down your tibulem, burning hot against your overheated frame.

“You will make a fine carrier, my queen.”

You sigh, content as you fall onto your side and roll onto your back. You tiredly bring your arms up, welcoming him for a hug with a near-delirious smile. He obliges without a word, wrapping his monstrously large arms around you and capturing your lips with his own, drawing you into a slow, lazy, loving kiss.

Pulling away, you look at Predaking with a bashful smile.

“One more time…? Just to make sure I’m sparked…” Predaking smirks, a rumbling chuckle emerging from him. His golden optics glow as he lines his spike up against your valve, drawing a mewl out of your vocal components as you feel his claw circle your over-stimmed anterior node.

“What a greedy little mate you are...”

[lexluvswriting]

♛ Princess Treatment.

“Ain’t it like thunder under earth, the sound it makes? Ain’t it exciting you, the rumble where you lay?”

- NFWMB; Hozier.

-> Pairing: Loki x plus-size! princess! reader.

-> CW: 18+ CONTENT! NSFW! SMUT AHEAD! MINORS, DNI. fem! reader (she/her), fem genitalia used, plus-size reader, allusions to low self-confidence and harmful behaviours, mentions of fat shaming, princess reader au! Loki is a doting, loving, lowkey-obsessed partner who loves to see us shine! Breeding! DON’T be like these dummies, regardless of what timeline ur in. Wrap. Before. You. Tap.

-> TW: porn with slight plot; no use of y/n; soft-ish dom!Loki x sub!reader; unprotected p in v sex; oral sex (f receiving); face-sitting; praising (f receiving); body worship (f receiving); dirty talk; breeding (lol); mirror sex, mirror sex, mirror sex!

W/C: 4.8

╰┈➤ Lex's note: thanks to this anon’s req, you all have this!! firstly: i am so sorry for ghosting, and being super late in my fic posting!!! it wasn’t intentional at all 😔 (uni is hard & mental health takes a toll T-T). second: Loki! Likes! Thick! Girls! anyway- Hozier did inspire this, HOW DID YOU KNOW?? indeed, NOTHING fucks with Loki's baby. I hope i did this request justice AND i hope we all giggle & squeal at this beautiful God the way i did. TYSM ANON for requesting <3 <3

“I do not believe this to be a fair council if we are not considering the voices of the people.”

Your voice was clear as you stood to say your piece, smoothing one of the ruffles along the waistline of your dress as you did so. Your head was held high as you spoke, commanding the attention of all the others who were part of this monthly council- the royals from the territories surrounding Asgard would convene at certain locations routinely to discuss oncoming threats, or other diplomatic concerns as ‘equals’, with today’s meeting taking place in one of King Odin’s many conference chambers.

“Malekith’s constant threats put strain on our territories, yes, but also on our citizens. Pulling more tithe from our villages will not warrant greater victory- I believe that it will worsen the tensions that are already rising.” As you continued your advocacy, you glanced around to ensure you held each attendant’s attention, before your eyes settled on blue irises that twinkled with usual cunning charm. Your mouth was on auto-pilot- this speech rehearsed to the point where you mumbled it in your sleep at times- allowing you to focus on the beauty of the prince across the table. His eyes of blue, like Jotunheim ice, watched you with a fondness only you could recognise while he reclined in his chair, flipping his dagger as he listened to you. Each time you felt flustered, you’d look back to him, for his eyes to soften and his chin to dip in the smallest, softest of encouraging nods, flushing out your nerves and leaving a sensual warmth that started in your chest and leaked into your lower stomach. You could do this. You could do this, then retreat back to the comfort of your lover’s room and let him coddle you like he loved to do.

“As lovely as your attempts are, princess, we do not have time to shed wasteful tears over a few peasant bodies.” A dry, dismissive voice cut you off before you could conclude; the callousness in his mention of the ‘peasants’- including your own people- made your fists curl. An older man from a neighbouring kingdom waved his hand dismissively as he sat back in his chair, swirling his goblet lazily. He barely spared you a glance, shaking his head as he continued with a bored expression,

“We deploy soldiers to protect these peasants. What do they need to fear? They are expected to provide mass harvests, and we deploy mass protection. If they do not know how to serve their kingdoms, why should we prioritise the preservation of such useless people?” 

Your breath stopped, eyes widening as you turned to him directly, yet you sensed Loki go deadly still in your peripheral, noticing the way he caught the dagger, blade facing up, holding it a little tighter as the lord spoke.

“Their families are starving enough as it is. They do not control the weather, nor the integrity of the soil! We cannot possibly place more expectations-”

“If they were worried about providing for their kingdoms, they would not be so reckless in their breeding, princess. If they were smarter, they’d sacrifice a few of those runts to gain more supplies. That, my dear, is why the rich stay rich, and the poor stay poor.” He droned on, the lord’s beady eyes finally looking at you, up and down slowly before his lip curled in a sneer,

“Perhaps their ‘starvation’ is simply a thinness they’ve earnt from working as hard as they have. Not that one might expect you to understand, princess.” The comment left a bitter taste in your mouth, making your throat tighten as the room suddenly went cold. You felt as if every pair of eyes watched you- scrutinising your rounder, curvier appearance compared to others. Granted, you weren’t the most ‘conforming’ to society’s beauty standards as far as princesses went within the nine realms, but you had believed your curvier body type was representative- beautiful- despite the criticisms. Yet the current whispers that swirled from around the room, the stares that your paranoia sucked in greedily, it made you want to crumble in a little heap and wither. In that moment, your stomach tightened, as if it would never eat again, and you felt yourself sucking in, straightening your posture subconsciously at his twisted, barbed retort.

“What exactly are you trying to imply?” The voice that spoke up was not your own but rather, the God of Mischief who stayed reclined. You watched him, slowly twirling his dagger between his fingers again- a calculating, threatening display of dexterity that made the bystanders in the room stiffen- while he cocked his head the way a beast would before devouring its prey. You had been on the receiving end of that stare many a time, but his eyes would not gleam with murderous intent; rather a hunger, as if you were a Goddess offering your nectar to a starving man. Yet even that memory couldn’t quell the uneasiness you felt as you slowly sat down, still silent.

“I did not say you could sit, princess.”

Your thighs had barely touched the edge of the chair as you froze, eyes flicking up to meet Loki’s who watched you with that mischievous gleam; plotting, planning, the way he usually was. You tried to shake your head, not wanting to be in the spotlight any longer, but he nodded, pointing his dagger at you as if it were a goblet- finally stirring something in you at his protectiveness,

“I’d like to hear you finish,” Your thighs squeezed together at the implication, “Your ideas seemed very promising- far more fulfilling than the vitriol I’ve heard during the earlier half of this forsaken meeting.” Huffs and murmurs of protest started, before being hushed as Thor- a supporter of your’s and his brother’s private relationship- cleared his throat, nodding at you to continue.

You hesitated, swallowing thickly as you slowly stood up again, voice considerably less confident than before as you completed your proposal, which had left the other participants nodding or murmuring contemplatively to those next to them. The lord who had insulted you simply rolled his eyes, taking a swig of his goblet before chiming in again- as if he couldn’t help himself-

“Ah, yes. The people’s princess. Forgive me for being so ‘out of order’,” His sneer told you the exact opposite as he sat back with a sigh, “At least they’ll know who to come to for meat if your lands are ever amidst a siege.” He muttered under his breath, earning a few malicious sneers and snickers, and as Loki snarled, Thor banged his hammer against the table,

“That will conclude this meeting. We will return later, when we have remembered how to behave like proper royals, and not barbaric animals.” He growled, the threat evident in his voice. You didn’t meet Loki’s gaze as you ducked your head, the first one to leave the meeting hall with tears that welled quickly.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧｡˚⋆♛｡⁺୨୧˚⋆⁺₊✧ ---

“I never want to go to another meeting again.”

“Oh, my darling, don’t say that.” He murmured, pressing kisses to the crown of your head as you buried your face against his torso. He had been laid back against the headboard of his bed, waiting for you after the meeting with his arms out wide as soon as you entered, and you crawled into them with teary eyes, sniffling as you lay in between his legs, face nuzzled against his torso as you cried a little.

“I feel absolutely humiliated!”

“My darling- my little Goddess- your father sends you as a representative to these meetings because he sees your brilliance, as do I-”

“Yet they all laughed at me!”

“Nobody would dare, my love, not unless they wanted my daggers carving out their insides.” His voice had remained soothing as he cooed praises, one hand rubbing your back while the other loosened the ties of your dress, letting you relax more, breathing freely as the corset underneath the bodice stopped crushing your chest and compressing your internal organs.

“He was right.”

“Who, love?” He hummed, barely listening to your vent, more focused on soothing you and your body- his vice, as he’d tell you whenever he was in between your legs, or looking up at you as you’d ride him- only to pause at your next words.

“The lord.” You sniffled, looking up at him with teary eyes as you shuffled slightly, climbing up him to rest your head against his chest.

“The lord? The lord is an insignificant fool- a worm who has been left alive to wriggle for too long. You are wonderful, beloved-”

“Loki.” You groaned, sullen as you hid your face against his neck, not in the mood for sympathy- regardless of how sincere it may have been.

“Be honest with yourself!” You snapped, the anger not even anger at all, but a storm of self-doubt, harsh self-criticism and insecurity,

“All these nobles see is a frumpy pig in pearls & frilly dresses, alright? So let us say it for what it is. I am fat. I am fat, and hard to look at, and I don’t even look like a proper princess-”

“Never,” He had flipped you both over faster than you could blink, his snarl protective as he grabbed your face with his left hand, pinning your hands above your head on the pillow with your right, rearranging your positions with that unfair godly strength he possessed, “Utter that filth again.”

Your tears had stopped in their tracks; doe eyes wide as you looked up at him, pouty lips parted in shock, face slightly flushed from crying.

“For as long as the sun brings day, and the moon calls night, I never want to hear you utter such horrid curses. Not a damn word. Do you hear me?” He growled, fingers holding your chin firmly before his hand cupped the side of your face instead, thumb brushing away the tears that lingered before he rubbed at the soft squish of your cheek. His index and thumb pinched at the apples of your cheek- the only apples he’d crave as long as he lived- gently, before kissing either side of your face.

“You are the only woman in all nine realms I love. You are the only woman I want; be it above me, beneath me or by my side. You may be the people’s princess, but you are a queen to me. The only woman I would kneel for- be it in the comfort of our bed chambers, or in the middle of the damn courtyard. Understand?” His words reverberated in your ears, rattling around your puddle of a brain before slinking over your heart and straight down to your core. The warmth he had triggered when he defended you during the meeting came back again in full force, your breathing hitching as you gawked up at him, before finally nodding dumbly, as if you had lost all ability to speak.

“If this is truly how you feel, then I must be punished for failing you.”

You blinked, trying to understand where he was going with this- your sulky voice a mere squeak as you echoed his words,

“P… punished?-”

“Oh, yes. Severely punished, for failing to present just how infatuated I am.” He murmured lowly as if this was a grave offence, his cock stirring in his pants as he saw your brain working behind your eyes; the way the words clicked and the way your thighs squeezed together, making your cheeks redden as your lips quivered.

“If I have to fuck my love into you for you to remember how beautiful you are, then I will make sure neither of us leave this bed until I have done it successfully.” His voice had taken a husky dive, your stomach coiling as your chest puffed up, nipples pebbling beneath the layers of fabric making up the bodice of your dress. Your body responded for you, tears drying to accommodate the curious twinkles of desire that began to shine through instead. His hands moved slowly, grabbing at the clothed flesh of your shapely hips, before slowly moving up over your body- your heart racing, even skipping a few beats from the intensity that he stared at you with- before his palms cupped your breasts. The soft mounds of your body could not simply be contained by a God’s measly palm, as if testament to your beauty, and he groaned at the sight, before grabbing his dagger impatiently, making you squeak,

“Loki!” You grabbed his hand, “I like this gown.” You mumbled, the lust glazing over your irises, making him huff softly before discarding the small weapon, only to pull you to sit up right on the bed with him, ridding you of the garment as he pulled it off.

“I could have bought you ten more. Ten more dresses to adorn this heavenly body.” His praise was a hungry growl- the timbre of his voice becoming more and more telling of his lustful desires- as his lips found purchase against the top of your breasts, making you gasp as his hands grabbed at the globes of your rear- his cock twitching at each whimper, straining unbearably against his pants as he beheld you. His princess. His darling. 

And he’d happily slaughter anyone who threatened your comfort.

“Look at yourself, princess,”

His hands turned you around like you were a ragdoll, squeezing your hips as he pressed his own against the flesh of your ass, making you whine softly as you shut your eyes, knowing exactly where he had positioned you both. He knelt behind you on the bed, making you sit on your knees while he peeked over your shoulder, resting his chin on the surface, his icy eyes meeting yours in the mirror in front of his bed after a soft squeeze of your breast made your eyes flutter open.

“Loki-”

“Hush, my darling. I know what you want… my needy little princess. My precious girl.”

His praises only made your cunt clench eagerly, the emptiness making you whine as your eyes followed the way his hands roamed over you in the mirror. Where you saw cellulite and stretch marks, he saw health. Where you saw rolls of fat and pudginess, he saw comfort. Your breasts were his pillows, your thighs his ear muffs during the colder seasons; your body was his home, and he planned to show you just how much it all meant to him. How much you meant to him.

“You know, darling, in Jotunheim… where I was born?” A squeeze of your left breast, fingers gently capturing your nipple between them to toy with while he murmured in your ear between kisses,

“The male giants believe that the bigger their mate, the healthier their children would be. And for you, my princess, the giants would see curves like yours and go to war in your name.” He hummed, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck while he teased your body gently, your breathy whines and heedy noises making him feral. Your eyes widened at his words, before his other hand cupped your mound, barely giving you time to adjust before his teeth marked your skin, making you moan abruptly. You saw the way he smiled wolfishly in the reflection of the mirror, his low chuckle alluring to your senses as he purred in your ear,

“Does that appeal to you, princess? Wielding the knowledge that your body alone appeals to my base desires- my primal needs?” He growled the word accordingly, and you bucked your hips back into his clothed cock while his fingers sampled the wetness pooling in the apex between your thighs. 

“Loki-”

“Allow me, my love, to make you feel like a queen tonight.”

As if he didn’t do that anyway.

He pulled away, before lying down with his head near the foot of the bed, so you’d see your reflection as he pulled you up to straddle his chest.

“My face is your throne, beloved. And I’d like to taste everything you have to offer.” He murmured, making your heart leap up to your throat, before plummeting straight down to your stomach as he wrapped his arms around your pillowy thighs, the sensation of him handling you making you squeak. Once your dripping cunt was hovering over his face, he groaned softly, as if he had been starving, and your hands braced his arms gently as you mumbled his name, before inclining your head. He watched curiously, before realising his mistake and let magic dissolve his clothing, leaving you both equally bare, his cock jumping at the way your thighs squeezed slightly, enjoying the sight of his nakedness.

Without further ado, he pulled you down- the movement making you squeal lightly- until your lower lips connected with his. He pressed a loving kiss to your mound- the feeling making you shiver- his tongue poking out at your glistening folds, tasting your honey greedily as he lapped at you. The taste of you made his cock jump, combined with the string of moans and mewls you released while his tongue wrote a love letter between your legs. You cried out his name in a strained moan, hands immediately grabbing at his silken locks for some sort of stability while he smothered himself in your nectar, absolutely drinking you in like you were his last meal. Every single time he did this, it always managed to get better and better- how? You had no damn clue.

“Look at yourself for me, pet.” His voice sounded in your muddled brain, despite his mouth being occupied, making you look up towards the mirror in shock, only to notice a slightly greenish tinge to your eyes- green from his magic as you realised he was looking through your eyes, both of you watching the sight of yourself atop his face. The both of you enjoyed the way your body jerked and jumped in the mirror as his head moved eagerly, hands squeezing at the plump fat of your inner thighs as he ate you out eagerly, like it was his favourite activity.

“You know it is.” His wicked, wicked voice of liquid sex appeal reverberated, making you whine, unable to even scowl from the way his tongue kept your eyes fluttering shut; only to feel his teeth nip at your inner thigh, a silent reminder to keep them open and on the mirror.

“You’re going to watch yourself, and watch the beauty that I am blessed with, as I make you come. Do you understand me, princess?”

You nodded dumbly, giving in to his demands as you weakly rode his face, his hands moving your hips along as he groaned into your mound, nose nudging the top of your wet cunt while his tongue stroked you, delving past and into your hole, making your gasp break into a weak whine as your head lolled back. Your brain was fuzzy, and you found yourself whining his name- which only made him harder and harder while he moaned at the taste, feeling and sound of you. If fate were to have him at your feet, only to serve you, he’d happily give up his titles to do so; especially with the way you looked above him right now. Soon enough, he was pulling an orgasm from you- your voice increasing higher in pitch, cracking more and more as you grunted and whimpered between moans, your breathing uneven as you tried your best to watch yourself, or more importantly, him between your legs. His neglected cock wept with beads of pre-cum from the blissful torture of hearing you, yet not being used to please you. He could have come from your moans alone, but he held back, determined to drive his point home- as well as drive into you.

“Oh, Loki- Loki I’m- mmm- I- ah-”

“It’s alright, darling. I’m right here.”

“I’m so close- so close-”

“Come for me, princess. My beautiful, beautiful princess.”

His coo made you squeak, before crying out as your release slammed into you, warmth flooding your lower stomach and gushing out, with Loki groaning happily as you sated his hunger yet again. You watched yourself, the way your eyes were half-lidded, the way you had some sort of blissful after-glow after he pulled such an orgasm from your core. You trembled slightly, whimpering as he gently guided your legs back, helping to shuffle you until you were resting against his painfully neglected erection- flinching slightly as he hissed upon feeling the warmth of your plush thighs snug against his hips, and the warmth radiating off your needy cunt.

“There you are… there’s my girl… my beautiful girl.” 

He groaned huskily, pushing himself up to kiss you, making you mewl at the taste of yourself on his lips, on his tongue as it swirled against yours in a hedonistic display.

“Are you convinced yet, my love? Or shall I continue until you have no choice but to agree?” He was absolutely drunk off of your essence as he asked it, his hips lifting up into you lightly, rubbing himself against your wetness as he watched your eyes flutter shut for a moment to enjoy the feeling of himagainst your slit. Seeing the way he was so determined to please you, it made your mind reel; the fondness in his gaze as he watched you come, the tenderness he showered you with as he kissed you, before leaning back on his elbows, looking at you like that? It certainly made something in your brain switch.

“I…” You bit your lip, before nodding as you mustered up the courage, “I want to watch myself ride you.”

As soon as you said that, you could have sworn Loki whimpered- your eyes widening as he grabbed at your hips- pawing at you like he was some desperate concubine.

“Please- please ride me, my princess. Please, let me watch you- let me see through your eyes.” He murmured, leaning up to latch onto one of your heavy breasts, his tongue warm against your hardened nipple; the sensation making you gasp a breathy “Yes,” earning a hungry groan as he shifted, aligning himself with your entrance. You glanced down at where his mouth found purchase against your chest, his eyes on you as he pulled away, probably to kiss you, only to freeze as he felt you begin to sink down on him slowly.

You both gasped softly, before moaning together at the sensation- as if you two didn’t do this many times before- his head tilting back and his eyes screwing shut.

“Oh, my princess- my beautiful girl- Norns, you feel so good-” He growled out, hands grabbing your hips like a lifeline as he let you set the pace. Your attention, however, was focused on the mirror as you watched yourself, from the way your curves rippled with each moment of impact, to the way his hands grabbed at your soft, comforting flesh; fingers digging into the comfort of your skin for solace. Your warm, tight cunt gripped him for dear life as you rolled your body against his, hands splayed against his chest as you bounced so nicely.

The fat head of his cock found your spot easily- his sensitive tip prodding against your gummy walls over and over- eliciting gasps of his name as you watched his shaft disappear into you over and over.

“Who’s my princess?”

He cooed, his voice like velvet, making you clench more around him- to which he chuckled at- before flexing his hips up into you, helping you feel all of him as you impaled yourself on his wide cock. You could only whine at his praise, your cheeks warming as your hands flinched up to hide your face, only for his hands to catch your wrists and pull them back to his chest,

“Ah, ah. That’s not what I asked, darling. I said,” His hips bucked up into you to prove his point, the harsh, sudden thrust making you moan,

“Who’s my princess?”

Your brain was practically a gushing puddle of matter, your face the epitome of raw, unadulterated pleasure. You had stopped watching the mirror, eyes blurring as you lost yourself in the pulses of that warm, wonderful feeling he gifted you with every time the tip of him hit your spongy walls, yet you mumbled out an almost incoherent, “I am,” earning you a growl of approval and

More.

Hard.

Thrusts.

Thrusts that left you moaning and whining helplessly as you grabbed at his hands, fingers interlacing together as your body tightened again from the sensitivity of your recent orgasm, and the sensation of your wonderful body clenching around him made the God groan your name, along with curses in an old language that sent warmth thrumming for you. Your mewls joined his groans in a raw melody of love and lust; his infatuation with you seeming to grow stronger with every thrust, every beautiful, sinful noise you made.

“Tell me darling, do you like what you see?”

His voice was strained as he fucked up into you, his arms wrapping around your hips, holding you flush against him while he bucked his hips. The combined sounds of wet arousal from your cunt, and skin slapping against skin as his thighs smacked against your plush rear, made you squeak out his name, barely registering his words.

“So beautiful, my princess… My Goddess, my beautiful girl.” He grunted, his eyes glazed over with lust, yet the expression he gave you was nothing but adoration before he slowed his thrusts suddenly. You blinked, whimpering a noise of confusion before he repositioned you with careful movements, laying you across his bed and parallel to the mirror opposite, so you both could watch the scene that played out together as he slid back inside you again, hands gripping your hips as he restrained his thrusts to slow rolls, the gentle, consistent pace making you sigh, toes curling as he peppered your body with kisses.

“I should worship you properly, my darling- should fill you with my seed ‘til you give me a bunch of beautiful little heirs.” He groaned, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he watched you, while your eyes watched the mirror, meeting his gaze for the moment to nod- the both of you like irresponsible teenagers as he humped into you desperately- your own lip caught between your teeth, eyes all wide and innocent-like, which made him growl and increase the pace of his hips.

“Do you want that, my pretty Goddess? Want me to worship you properly?” He grabbed your face, turning your head to face him as your lips caught in a searing kiss. He swallows your moans greedily, guttural noises sounding from the back of his throat as he kissed you over and over.

“Please, Loki.”

You barely recognised your voice, with how soft and whiny it was, and your body was absolutely sensitive- his thrusts sending jolts of pleasure so strong that it ruined the integrity of your muscles- your legs trembling as he cupped under your thighs, folding you over slightly and swearing as he felt your body tighten greedily, as if you were anticipating his release.

“Mm? Tell me, my darling, tell me what you need of me. How can I reward you, my princess?”

His voice had lowered huskily as he repeatedly buried himself within you. The action had you seeing stars, making you cry out for him before you pleaded weakly,

“Please, please- I want you to come-”

You pawed at his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck as best you could while you kissed him. Your pleas fell on listening ears, and the God rewarded you with a guttural groan, one specific thrust forcing out an orgasm you didn’t even know was building- the action making you all but keen for him- as your body clenched. Your mound tightened around him with the intent to milk him dry, and he finally let himself come- slamming his hips into you with a sense of finality- while he groaned your name over and over like a prayer, his forehead resting against yours as you both panted, with his cock twitching and jumping as he drained himself, every last hot rope of white painting your pretty walls. He stayed in you until he softened, as if to make real on his promise of fucking his love into you, before he collapsed beside you on the bed with a hum of content.

You had both come down from your highs together, and he had wrapped you up in his arms to pepper your face with kisses as he whispered sweet nothings and that made you giggle.

“Shall I kill that lord, for you, my love?”

“Loki.”

“It is but an innocent suggestion, my princess. Only to work in your favour.”

“Loki.”

“Alright, alright. But you must admit, I did do what I said I would, no?”

“Gods help me.”

╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: i hope you guys love this as much as i did! pls feel free to request any time!! <3 L'autunno ch:5 & 6 are definitely otw, as well as another req for (you guessed it) Loki!! hehe. thank you for reading, my loves!!

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

Being a pretty little royal ambushed on the road by a huge and feral creature with a paralysing bite or sting; it dispatches your bodyguards easily and for the most part without killing them, dragging you from your horse and pinning you to the ground.

You only realise why when they release you, and with a rumbling voice ask you what you would be willing to do for them to spare the lives of your helpless guards. You can see the panic on the men's faces; they cannot move but they can see and hear, they know what is happening but are powerless to do anything about it.

They have always been so kind to you, so brave in your defence. Some of them have families.

You offer your life to the creature on hands and knees, baring your neck to it and it simply laughs. You crawl to it and press your mouth to its scaled clawed feet and it laughs again. It picks you up like a toy, shredding the fabric of your clothes and tearing them off you, and drags you into its lap.

Please me, it growls, and with burning tears of shame you lower yourself onto its unnaturally large, ridged cock and fuck yourself as best you can through the pain. You are rough with yourself, and do not stop even when you feel the sting of being slightly torn. The demon licks tears off your face and does not let you stop until it is spilling inside you with a howl, its cum and a trace of your own blood leaking down your thighs.

Then it leaves.

The paralytic takes hours to wear off; some of your guards have their eyes shut, some are silently crying. You limp to them and try to make them comfortable as it wears off, wondering what they will do with you when you all return home. Your people are proud, and you have disgraced them. You are of little value now for the political union you travel towards.

Your guards are not angry or disgusted, to your surprise, only sorrowful. You wrap your arms around some few who seem especially grief-struck and tell them it was worth it. When you finally arrive at the border, ready to disguise as best you can your ruined virtue, the warlord you were promised to steps forward to greet you first.

They look human enough. But you know those eyes. You know that voice. They lay their hands at your waist with a low rumble of delight and announce that the wedding will proceed that night; they are certain they will be well-pleased by the offered consort. Once again, you have a moment of choice; once again, you choose others over your own fear and surrender yourself to the creature.

.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Do you maybe have a master post/compilation of leaks or rumors re the bullying investigation? I tried searching but tumblr search thingy is wonky

Old ask from sometime March-ish. Maybe? I forgot to look at the date before I published.

Ok, so this ask sent me down the research wormhole. (Yes, the tumblr search is all sorts drunk.)

There have been rumors of Meghan being rude to and difficult with staff since the fall after the wedding, and while the blogs discussed it as bullying, I don't believe the printed press called it "bullying" until Valentine Low's bombshell Times article dropped.

After the article dropped, there was a flurry of stories about the bullying allegations with Meghan leaking to People (of course). So over the year that the allegations were being investigated, there weren't a whole lot of leaks that I could find. A couple of rumblings from books that were already published (Courtiers and Battle of the Brothers, specifically) but things were a bit quiet.

Not long after the investigation was announced, which was followed quickly by the Oprah interview and Philip's passing, many of the blogs on Tumblr began openly speculating that we'd never see the results of the investigation.

Remember, the investigation was overlapping with Prince Philip's death, The Queen's illness, and Platinum Jubilee celebrations. It was confirmed on June 30, 2022, that the investigation wouldn't be published. While I do believe that the investigation wasn't published because it implicated Charles in some way, I also believe now - after compiling a timeline of the coverage - they decided not to publish because The Queen's health was already fast declining, everyone was understood she didn't have long left, and didn't want this to cause further conflict, chaos, or discomfort in whatever remaining time she had left.

There were a few leaks about the investigation from late September 2022 after royal mourning ended, which suggests to me that people were holding off on some stories out of respect to Her Late Majesty. And, of course, there was Spare being published in 2023 that caused a few rebuttals and leaks to defend the staff.

I'll post the timeline next. Use the 'bullying allegations' tag for help finding it.

Edit: adding the link ⬇️

[ino-takumas-baggy-sweater]

The Blessing To Your Curse - Part 3 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Hoo boy this one is a doozy, I hope you're ready because shits about to go downhill uphill and all around lmaoo. I'll try to be more consistent with this series, I'm trying to split my time evenly between this, the royal au, and just doing oneshots but it's gonna be hard with uni starting up again in a few days

Part 2 here

Warnings: blood, gore, descriptions of death, descriptions of self harm

Word Count: 3.9k

“YUJI!”

“NANAMI!”

“ANYONE?!”

You knew it was dangerous to intentionally draw attention to yourself, but you called out for aid nonetheless. You’d reluctantly split off from the group to distract a first grade, being left alone with it before you could blink, and now you’re curled up against a wall while pressing a hand below your ribcage and desperately reaching into the well of your energy to patch the wound. It hadn’t gone horribly wrong, but you couldn’t deny that it hurt like a bitch and you were already tired.

Perhaps there was some remnant of the physical weakness you possessed in your past life after all, some chronic illness that chased you beyond death and rebirth.

“Motherfucker,” You growl, ripping at the side of your shirt to expose more of the wound to your eyes, feeling the skin stitch together as you hiss profanities through your teeth. After purging it of the last of the cursed blood you had been coated with during the fight, it seals up and you slump back, the patch of skin tingling with remnant energy.

Gotta get moving, find Yuji again. You push yourself to your feet, repeating these words as your nails scrape the wall and your hand drags past neon screens and through trails of the gross purple blood. You’re trying not to put weight on your ankle, which twisted in an awkward fall while fighting the first grade, but deciding you can’t afford to lose more time you push on until you reach a set of stairs.

Residuals of cursed energy leak up through the air in your direction, one trace you recognise to be Yuji’s, and a second trace, this one stronger, more potent and reeking of blood. You scrunch your nose at the tangy smell, forcing your feet to take you down the stairs where you find yourself amongst the remnants of a fight. “Yuji?” You call out, coughing slightly as a hint of smoke pierces the air.

You make it further down the hallway when you hear voices, and suddenly a wave of malice washes over you, forcing you to your knees. “I’ll give you one second,” You hear his voice around the next corner and crawl to press your back against the wall, making yourself as small as possible, “Move,” Heavy breathing near you catches your attention and you finally notice the two girls in an alcove across from you.

You press your hand to your mouth as they stare at an unknown figure that you’re now almost certain is Sukuna, the special grade curse that moves to stand at their side equally terrified but trying not to let it show. They’re like statues, and Sukuna’s footsteps ring out in the still air like shots from a pellet gun. Your eyes travel to the figure walking towards them and away from you, its Sukuna alright, his face stoic and empty of emotion as he approaches the group of three.

“You hold your heads quite high,” He rumbles, brushing the pink hair up from his forehead, and you watch as he takes a chunk off the top of the special grade’s head with a single thought, missing the two girls because they duck far enough to the ground. Smart girls, you think to yourself in passing, perhaps I should step in and save them.

He may be amicable now, but you know he can turn on a dime at any second. “Did you believe taking one knee would be enough? The boughs that bear most hang lowest, yes? But I guess you guys are pretty lightweight,” He looks to the girls, “You kids first, you wanted…” He trails off, his head angling slightly towards you and you see his nose twitch before he turns and you meet his ruby red gaze, “What have we here?”

Your heart is thumping practically through your chest as you drop your hand from your mouth, taking low deep breaths to try and calm yourself, “My lord,” You murmur, his power overwhelming you into submission. He’s in front of you in an instant, but you can see his unwillingness to bend down and assist you in front of an audience.

You hear a protestation in your mind at your term of address and you relax your shoulders, pressing yourself against the wall awkwardly to pull yourself to your feet, “Sukuna,” You murmur, low enough so as you cast your gaze over his shoulder at the special grade you know they cannot hear you, “Forgive me, I tried to find Yuji before anything could happen,”

He shakes his head, “No matter, I have business with these three anyway,” He looks over his shoulder, following your gaze, but you place a hand out of sight over where Yuji’s heart lies. “Spare the girls,” You whisper, looking away, “For my sake. Let me fulfil their demands,” He lets out a bark of a laugh, catching you off guard a little, “Will that leave you strong enough for what I need?”

You look back into his eyes, see the flash of concern passing through his gaze and his hand hovers over yours for a moment, the twinge in your ankle disappearing in an instant. “I will be,” You steel yourself, dropping your hand back to your side, “For you,”

After a moment of gazing into your eyes he turns and walks back to the girls, “What did you want to ask? I’ll grant you a finger’s worth of time,” He inspects his nails and then brushes them on the front of the supremely fucked up jacket that almost barely covers his torso at this point, allowing you a glimpse of the tattoos on his back, “Now talk,”

One of the girls, the mousy brunette, glances up at you for just a second, letting you see the tear tracks running down her cheeks as she speaks, “Below us, there’s a man in monks robes, with stitches across his forehead,” She mumbles. You flinch and look away, you know exactly who she speaks of, and it’s the man who’s been haunting your prophetic dreams since you were a child.

You knew through your time at Jujutsu High that Suguru Geto would turn his back, and after his death you thought it was over, but things are never that simple. “Please, kill him,” Sukuna glances back at you and you can feel his essence behind your eyelids as his manifestation enters your mind, “Is the roleplaying monk the one you dream of?” You nod, digging your fingernails into your palm as the other hand clutches at your chest.

You feel rather than see him roll his eyes as he breaks eye contact, “What an asshole,” He grunts, turning back to the girls. “And also, please free Geto,” The other girl whimpers, making your eyes water. You can still sense Geto beyond death, he may not be strong enough to free himself, and you know someone like Sukuna or Gojo or Yuta could, but Gojo is nothing but a liability when it comes to his former best friend.

“We know the location of one other finger-“ “Quit whining,” Sukuna snaps, and both girls are silent as mice, “Did you think a measly one or two fingers would grant you the right to order me around?” He pouts slightly, “How insulting, you’re lucky my queen is present, or I’d have your heads where you kneel,”

He regards them with a look you can only describe as voracious and then nudges the dark haired girl’s forehead with the toe of his shoe. She keeps her eyes firmly shut as her head is forced into a more upright position, her face turned up towards his, “You see her standing there?” He asks quietly.

The girl opens her eyes and locks them onto yours though you’re quite sure she cannot see you through the veil of her tears. “She’s the only reason the two of you are still alive, if I were you I’d be thankful and go to her before I change my mind,” His tone is mocking, he’s enjoying this, and some small part of you is too.

But you barely have a chance to protest before they’re stumbling to their feet, heads still bowed, and they’re by your side in an instant, tucking themselves behind you so you stand between them and your ferocious lover. “If you wish for them to live that badly then get them out of here, it’s about to get… a little hot,” His voice rings through your mind and you turn obediently, looking between the girls for a moment.

They appear to be equally as afraid of you as they are of Sukuna, and you have a fleeting memory pass through your mind of seeing them with Geto before the Night parade of a Hundred Demons. “Come on,” You say flatly, “It’s not going to be safe here much longer,” Not that you can claim it ever was safe for anyone but you, putting you between Sukuna’s technique and them doesn’t change a thing because his technique can’t hurt you, but you’re not going to tell them that and shatter their hope.

“Geto will die,” You murmur as you nudge them in front of you, “I have seen it,” Again, you’re not going to tell them how much time there is until the day comes, but you want to at least reassure them that something will happen. “How do you know?” The mousy brunette looks back at you and you stop walking, having made it far enough down the hallway that you would no longer see Sukuna if you were to look over your shoulder.

You meet her gaze, blinking slowly, “And why would I reveal that? What have you done besides demand from my king?” She flinches as if remembering who you are to him, “What are your names?” “Nanako,” The one who spoke murmurs. “Mimiko,” The other adds quickly, “We’re sorry, please, we thought maybe if we helped him then he would help us, he’s so strong that surely killing Geto would be nothing for him,”

You let Mimiko finish her little spiel before pushing between them and continuing to walk, remaining quiet. They don’t follow for a moment before deciding you’re the lesser of two evils and then catching up to you. “You never make requests of Sukuna,” You murmur, “Not if the fate of the world depends on it,” “What is it that you know?” Nanako murmurs.

You spin to face them, making yourself dizzy for a moment before you fix your glare on her wide brown eyes, “The last person to make a request of him and live to tell the tale beyond his grasp was the only person he ever loved, over a thousand years ago, and through no fault of his own he failed to fulfil her request,” You snap. Sometimes, now that you remember, you’re forced to relive your own death through your dreams.

The spray of razor sharp barbs hitting your back from the insect-like curses chasing you, dragging through your skin and shredding your insides like serrated knives. Your heart weakening with every beat, legs still running despite the fact there was a steady ooze of blood from around each point that cruelly stuck out from the front of your robes.

You remember you tripped on the path as his house came into view, falling to your knees, you nudged one of the barbs, it’s pointed edge taunting you with the rosy shine of your own blood. You remember the sound of your own screams drawing him from his house, only for you to bleed out in his arms, his face twisted and streaked with tears.

Tears that bound your soul to his in a futile effort to keep you alive, only succeeding in delaying the inevitable for but a few moments, allowing a proper vow to fall from his lips. You still feel the chains he put there, still feel his soul on the other side.

The girls eyes are fearful and you wish you could be sure if they know exactly what you’re trying to imply, but you won’t dwell on it any longer. “I’m going to get you to our healer, and you’re going to stay there without complaint, or I’m going to kill you myself, you understand?” They nod, eyes filled with fear as you grow deadly, feeling Sukuna’s gleeful bloodlust flood your senses.

Seething with quiet rage you escort them back to Shoko who, despite looking at you like you’ve grown a second head, lets you attempt to return to the fight. Although you aren’t entirely sure where anyone is anymore, you’ve somehow managed to get caught up in Sukuna’s domain, the slashes glancing harmlessly off your skin as you search for the epicentre.

“SUKUNA!” You shout, pressing forwards through the spray. It’s almost like rain, and you shake your head to clear your thoughts, trying your hardest to see anything. Finally in the darkness, you catch a glimpse of the shrine that lies at the centre of Sukuna’s domain, the jaws wide open and ominous as always.

This happens as the domain subsides, and you see his pink hair across from you at the edge of the destruction. “SUKUNA!” He looks towards you as you stumble in his direction, pulling yourself out of the hole as your chest heaves. “I thought I told you to get out of here,” He growls, hauling you to your feet by your upper arm.

You cough as you inhale some concrete dust, “If we want to do this body thing, now is the best time we have,” You croak, “Nobody else is around,” Sukuna smirks and looks past you for a moment, “Just wait a moment will you,”

You fall silent as he steps around you towards the hole, “Make sure to savour this for me brat,” Sukuna’s energy softly fades and you whip your head around, “Sukuna!” You growl, “You moron!” The tattoos fade and you see his hands start to shake.

Yuji grabs his face and you’re afraid to touch him, but he falls to his knees and you’re quickly by his side, “LET ME DIE!” He screams, dragging his fingertips along the rough concrete and shaving chunks of viscera off, “ONLY ME!” You make a mental note to chew Sukuna out later, this isn’t how you wanted to proceed.

 “Yuji listen to me, you made me a promise,” You grunt, pulling him back off the ground into your arms with yours hooked under his shoulders to prevent him from hurting himself anymore. “He can have my body,” Yuji sobs, burying his face against your arm, “I don’t deserve to live!” He wails.

“Don’t pull that shit with me,” You growl, grabbing his chin and making him look up at you. You know your eyes must be a reflection of Sukuna’s, you can see how terrified he is, “You promised me that you would assist me, and I promised you I would protect you,”

“Innocent people died!” He pulls away from you, “And it’s all my fault, I’m not strong enough, I just…” He trails off, breathing heavily, “I can’t understand how or why you love him, I just can’t,” Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, leaving trails through the dust and dirt, “Yuji, I…”

You know what you want to say, you want to remind him that you’re technically a thousand years old, you knew him before he was like… this… and you’re sure you can return him at least to a more docile state, but he’s like a caged wolf right now. Fulfilling an oath that has no purpose anymore other than to feed his bloodlust.

Instead, you take his hands in your own disregarding the state of his fingers to just hold him. “I will readily accept that this is partially my fault, I probably could have stopped him in the subway and I didn’t, but right now I need you to let me do this. The sooner he is out of your body the sooner your body is your own again,” You plead softly.

His shoulders droop and he nods, “Yeah, yeah, go on then,” He murmurs. You steel yourself, you hadn’t had the chance to practice this step because you couldn’t risk accidentally cloning Sukuna, so you had one shot to get it right.

You shift so you’re on your knees, still holding his hands, and using the blood from his fingers you paint a small chevron symbol on his forehead. It begins to glow as you reach deep into your soul, the well of energy within you stirring.

His eyes are full of tears as he looks at you, and you have to blink away your own again as the two of you begin to glow. There aren’t words in any language that can properly describe what exactly it is that you do, you suppose if your modern day clan had survived then you’d know what it was you were doing, but you could only follow your instincts and hope that everything went smoothly.

A trail of strange white energy, formless and malleable, pulls from the wounded tips of Yuji’s fingers, trailing out like blossoms in the wind and eventually forming something resembling a human beside you. You reach one hand towards it, maintaining your connection to Yuji and pressing your other to the pale form that is gradually taking on colour.

It occurs to you as Sukuna’s form begins to take shape before you that you have no clothes for him, you really hadn’t thought as far ahead as you should have, and Yuji averts his eyes, emptying the contents of his stomach away from the strange new body.

It takes a few more minutes and some small adjustments but soon the body is finished, and it looks just as you remember from before your death. “How the hell do we get him into the body now?” Yuji asks?” “Like this,” You turn to him, pressing your hand to the side of his face as his eyes widen.

Tattoos form on his skin and his eyes waver between brown and red momentarily, before Sukuna responds to your power and pushes forward. “You called?” He tilts his head with a smirk, grabbing your chin and inspecting the tear tracks on your face, “Did the brat make you cry?”

You shake your head, “No he didn’t, now will you hurry up and do whatever it is you have to do to switch bodies?” You murmur, exhaustion gripping at your limbs. He looks down, nodding with approval as he lets you go, “Your craft is immaculate as always,” He murmurs, trailing his fingers over the unblemished skin.

You rub your jaw, clicking your neck momentarily as you look around, spotting a somewhat intact clothing store a few doors down from you, “I’ll be right back,” You haul yourself to your feet, stumbling towards the shattered glass and into the shop. It takes a few minutes but eventually you find all the essentials to just cover him up, underwear, sweatpants, and a simple t-shirt that has a generic band logo you don’t recognise on the back.

Making sure it’s all in a larger size you lurch back out onto the street, noticing the new body sitting up and flexing his fingers, his body adorned with tattoos and his face changed, returned to the half-twisted state. Yuji is trembling on his side a couple metres away, his back facing the two of you as you return to them.

It only takes you a moment to realise what happened, Sukuna made the new body eat one of Yuji’s fingers, and you frown at him sternly, “Heal him,” You grunt, hitting his shoulder with the back of your hand. He snatches the clothes off you without responding, you fall back onto your butt and shuffle over to Yuji, “Oh Yuji,” You murmur.

“You heal him if you care so much, he’s just a brat,” Sukuna growls and you whip your head back to look at him, fury giving you a shot of adrenaline, “I just used up almost all of my energy reserves to create a new body for you from nothing, you fucking owe me, I don’t care how much you hate him,”

His face remains stoic and you stand, poking his chest viciously, “I brought you into this world, I can fucking take you out of it, I don’t care, you better not make me think I just wasted everything I had for nothing,” He rolls his eyes, pushing past you and bending down, his hand on Yuji’s side frightens the boy for a moment but he relaxes as Sukuna’s reverse cursed technique flows through him, growing back the finger he stole and healing his other fingertips.

“Are you happy now?” He growls, standing up and looking down on you. You spit off to the side, saliva mixed with blood, “I won’t be happy until you stop treating me like a fucking worm, I gave you your own body and now you think you can treat me like this? Is this how you show appreciation to someone who you’ve apparently lied to every time you’ve told them you loved them?”

His demeanour is softened the moment you accuse him of lying and you feel a momentary sting of regret, but you just spent all of your energy giving his own body. It’ll take you weeks to recover from this. If he isn’t willing to fight in your place, then what was it all for?

You want to cry again, you want to burst into tears and fall to your knees, you want to stay by Yuji’s side and just give up hope. This isn’t the man you knew, you should’ve been more careful, shouldn’t have so readily trusted him when he showed you his memories. He’s changed too much, and you’re afraid you’ll never get him back.

You do eventually tire of Sukuna’s solemn silence, slumping down on the rubble next to Yuji and apologizing softly, repeatedly. You know that no amount of words will ever make up for what he’s gone through, but as long as you stay with him he might have a chance of getting through this.

“Y/n,” Sukuna rumbles. You look back to him, he’s sat casually just beside you, “You’re the only thing I want in this world, without you I am nothing but a curse seeking endless vengeance,” You feel Yuji roll over and press his face against the side of your thigh, “You give me a purpose, and if you don’t trust me that’s ok, just…”

He reaches for you and you let him take your hand, looking up into his eyes, “You made me human again,” He murmurs, “I… I remember what it’s like to love, and I will stay by your side until you believe me and you love me too,” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, choosing to remain silent but nodding slightly.

His eyes close and your free hand rests on Yuji’s back. It will take time, and this fight is far from over, but you’re sure that things will begin to heal. Even if you end up on the run from Jujutsu society for the rest of your life, at least you have him back. At least you can go about trying to save some of your friends.

I think this takes the prize for my favourite chapter so far, maybe it's just the whole 'writers are their own worst enemies' thing (is that how that goes? idk) and because it's the most recent one lol

also i hope yall dont mind me saving characters who died in shibuya, but i mean it's my fic and i get to choose who lives >:)

Part 4 coming soon

[metashard]

Rick Sanchez Imotekh arranged marriage Orizyn crackplot seed bulb (469 words (nice))

Orikan felt his shoulders lock in place as Imotekh took one pauldron in each hand and twisted the cryptek to face him. There was something intense in the phaeron's oculars, as though each were a lantern whose shutter had been flung back to reveal the fire within.

“Orikan,” he rumbled, “we are three quadrillion dollars in debt, Orikan. I need you to- I need you to marry that man. I have seen Gheden, and read of the wonders of Solemnace - he's loaded.”

“My phaeron, does our economy really-”

“The Mephrit are sending a delegation. They know that they cannot best me in outright battle, so now they're planning on burying me in contract law.” His grip tightened. Orikan tried not to flinch as he felt the outer layers of his necrodermis crackle under the strain. “Half a quadrillion of that debt is supposed to be for crypteks based in their systems. They’re going to kill me with lawyers if I can’t get them that money. I already had to deal with one set of bad knees, Orikan, I can’t have them busting these too!”

Some of Orikan’s typical irritation began to leak through his fear. “Well, what do you want me to do about it? Steal from him?”

“Dead gods, no, not more legal charges. I want you to marry him for the cash.” Imotekh pulled Orikan close then, and gestured to the horizon with his Gauntlet of Fire. “Think about it, Orikan. Just spend a few years on Solemnace-”

“Years?!”

“- siphon off a bit of moolah, get treated like royalty - oh, don't give me that look, I've seen the two of you in a room together. Make it look believable, usual political marriage slop. I’ll work on getting us cozied up to Krispekh on my side, then boom, you get to divorce him and run back here with the alimony. You can even make the breakup as ugly as you want. All you have to do is play nice and get pampered for a few years.”

“One of us will kill the other within a decan.”

“You couldn't kill each other with ten thousand years of close contact. Forgive me for not believing you for a damn second. Anyway, your ship should be ready to leave in two days.”

Orikan's vocal actuator caught in a series of blurts and sputters as he repeatedly failed to settle on what to say. Finally, “You’re pimping me out?!”

“Hey now, it's called a marriage of state when royals do it. And I neither expect nor ask you to fuck the man,” another burst of static from Orikan, “just avoid killing him until I can angle this whole thing into a decent deal with his phaeron. Sound good?”

“No?!”

“Too bad!” Imotekh finally released Orikan's shoulder with a squeal of metal on metal. “I'll send the wraiths to help you pack. Have fun!”

[averyprettycowboi]

It's the fifth night I've been woken up like this. Feeling pinned to the bed, unable to move anything but my eyes. It's never scared me, not like sleep paralysis is supposed to. I just feel frustrated...or like something else is frustrated.

That's when I recognize something that's never been there before. A shape in the dark. It's massive. I can trace what I think are arms down to massive clawed hands gripping my wrists and its massive weight keeping my legs in place. I look up to hungry eyes and a wide open mouth full of fangs. I feel a drop of drool on my face.

It's panting like a dog, with a deep frustration. I don't think it recognizes that I can see it yet. I begin to feel movement as it grinds against me. It lets out a deep, rumbling groan. A voice as deep as the pits of hell. I see something emerge from between its legs, like a tendril. Long, thick, and wet, covered in fat bumps around a flat head. I let out a gasp.

It hears me.

It knows I see it now. I see the hunger in its eyes turn to burning passion. It sees my eyes flicker with the sparks of lust it hungers for. A long tongue snakes from its mouth into mine. I accept it gratefully as it begins to fuck my throat with its tongue. I feel the pressure removed from my legs for just a second, before feeling another set of hands grasping them and folding me.

It presses its head right against my hold and stares at me. I cannot speak or nod, but it understands a deep need. It can smell it. It plunges inside of me and lets out a desperate feral growl of pleasure.

It treats me like a toy, just like it somehow knows I want. Its cock fills me entirely, as if growing more and more inside me to stretch me to my absolute limit. The massive shape moans with every thrust, until finally letting out a howl I could not begin to describe. I see the glow in my stomach, a deep royal purple pushing through my skin and leaking onto the bed.

Its tongue drags up the side of my neck and face as it leans down beside me. In my ear, I hear a voice that sounds like a blazing inferno.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, my love."

[aethernoise]

2. bark

This prompt reminded me to return to a very old WIP idea that I will likely never finish. It may simply be the fic equivalent of writing an angry letter and never sending it - self-care, if anything, in face of grave injustices.

Set in 5.2, inspired by the opening quests of the Sorrows of Werlyt. CW for mild violence.

•

She wanted to spit in his face, but her mouth was dry from anger.

"I don't give a shit about your regrets," she hissed, "They mean nothing to me. They mean nothing to the millions of innocent lives you've taken and the millions more you have ruined forever."

Gaius' face remained stony in the dim light.

"You needn’t list my sins, I know them all full well," he said. "I would never attempt to request your forgiveness, only cooperation--”

"Here is my cooperation, Baelsar," she cut him off. "You are alive at this moment because I will it.”

The corner of his mouth twisted ruefully.

“You would kill an unarmed man in cold blood? It seems we are both a far cry from our former selves.”

“Shut up.” 

"Do it, then, if you must. Say the words, Defender of Eorzea. Prove you're not all bark and no bite. Even if you paint the Royal Palace red with my blood, it will do nothing to stop what is coming."

There was a loud crack and a flash. Gaius grunted and slumped onto the floor. The aether was so loud in Alyx’s ears, she didn’t hear Raubahn’s voice booming down the hall.

“Alyx!”

There was a small singe on the front of Gaius’ coat, leaking a faint smell of burned leather. She remained transfixed on the mark while his chest slowly rose and fell.

“Alyx! Seven hells, what have you done?”

“He’s fine,” she said flatly.

“I cannot say he didn’t have it coming,” Raubahn said with the hint of a chuckle, and Alyx almost gave herself neck strain with the speed she turned to look up at him.

“Nothing compared to what he deserves. He doesn’t even deserve to be here, walking free in our home--” Her fingers clenched, shoulders squared against trembling with anger. “Raubahn, how could you?”

“Do you think I want him here?” His voice was hushed, his enormous shadow tense, black eyes flashing with ferocity. “Do you truly think I welcomed him as a friend with open arms?!”

Alyx had the dim awareness that anyone sane would be completely terrified to be rounded upon by General Aldynn in such a manner, but another awareness reminded her that she could knock him on his arse too if she had to.  

“How am I supposed to know? You certainly looked chummy enough,” she spat, “Standing there next to him like a gods damned diplomat, like he wasn’t the one responsible fo--”

His giant, calloused hand seized her arm. The hold was not ungentle, but the sheer weight of him rooted her to the spot. 

“And what would you have me do?” His voice had lowered to a rumbling growl like an earthquake. “Execute him on sight? Drag him through the streets? He came to us in peace, and with information vital to our survival--”

“And you trusted him!” 

“We have no reason not to.”

“My gods, do you even hear yourself?!”

“We have no choice. I have no choice.” Alyx opened her mouth to disagree, but he continued: “I will not put our borders at further risk out of pride. I cannot afford to refuse help, even from the most hated of sources. If Ala Mhigo is to survive--if Eorzea is to survive--it cannot depend only on you forever, Alyx.”

Her heart hammered in her ears, but she had no rebuttal. The General went on:

"Someday, Rhalgr forbid, you might not be here. What if something were to happen to you? What would become of us? I know full well what you're capable of, but I know you cannot be everywhere at once."

A soft groan from below - Gaius was waking up. As soon as Raubahn's grip slackened enough, Alyx pulled her arm free. 

"Fine. Do what you will." Her voice was low, robbed of much of its former power. "But please, do not ask me to work with him."

Alyx didn't wait for confirmation. Instead she turned to leave before she could regret anything more.

[cricketnationrise]

7:48 pm, Henry, white house kitchen

HEN I had such a good time writing this one, the words just FLOWED it was awesome. Enjoy! 💜

want your own ficlet? 4 days left, rules here!

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

white house kitchen, 7:48pm

It’s strange, being in the White House kitchen. He and Alex have spent a lot of time together, but very little of it in the kitchen.

There were a few moments at the lake house, but Henry still shies away from those memories. He suspects he will until they write over the devastation Henry left in his wake when he left in the middle of the night.

Being here, in a kitchen that only a few people in the world have ever seen, reminds Henry more viscerally of that first weekend of damage control after Pip’s wedding: cornettos and a slight, cautious relaxing of public personas in the middle of the night. Henry knew he would be set on fire by Alex all the way back in Rio – had played into their antagonistic relationship just as much as Alex since then – but looking back, their real beginning was that night in the guest kitchen. An innocuous Instagram post, a resigned truce, a reluctant understanding. If he could go back and tell his past self what that night would lead to, Henry would have laughed in his own face.

Tonight – after the New Year’s Eve and The State Dinner, after the polo game, after Paris and LA, after the lake house and you obtuse fucking asshole, after The Leak and America he is my choice – Henry and Alex finally have a moment alone, a chance to relax into the silence and each other’s arms. 

Henry’s more than gratified to note that Alex is clinging just as tightly to him as he is to Alex.

Alex only pulls away when his stomach rumbles, smiling sheepishly. 

“Sorry, I guess we should actually eat something.”

Henry would tease him, but his stomach chooses that moment to rumble loudly in response, sending them both into fits of giggles, clutching the edge of countertops and each other to stay upright. The giggles build into hysterical laughter – the kind that you can’t stop, can barely breathe with, going on so long that your stomach hurts – more of a release of pressure than anything else. 

When they finally get a hold of themselves, Henry feels clean – reborn, even. He reaches out to wipe the tear tracks from Alex’s cheekbones.

“Now I’m hungry and my abs hurt,” Alex pouts.

“Well we can fix one of those things right now, if you let go of me long enough to find ingredients.”

“Don’t wanna though,” he says, voice muffled in Henry’s shoulder.

“I suppose that means I’ll cook something then? I’m sure I could whip up some dry toast—”

Alex jolts away, mock horrified. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“No, but I do enjoy watching you cook, and it has been a while since lunch.”

“Well if it's to entertain you, I suppose I can oblige Your Royal Dickishness’ whim.” Alex kisses his cheek fondly as he passes by on his way to the fridge.

“Good then,” Henry says, sinking onto a barstool. He props his chin on one hand and sighs contentedly, watching Alex bop around the kitchen. The warmth suffusing the room couldn’t be more different from Kensington and for once, Henry lets himself float.

[scarytello]

Hypothetically, could I request a bratty Leo getting pegged and edged until he begs?

PEG! THAT! TURTLE! I personally LOVE bratty sub Leo! He just needs to know his place <3

[CRY FOR ME .・゜-: ✧ :-　　BRAT!LEO X DOM!GN READER]

CONTAINS: SUB LEO, BRATTING, LIGHT DEGRADATION, PEGGING, TRANS LEO, EDGING, BEGGING, PRAISE KINK, HEAVY NSFW! MINORS DNI

Leo had been pissing you off /all day/. Teasing you, bending over /juuust/ enough and raising his tail high in the air, practically /begging/ you to bend him over the nearest surface and fuck him til' he's crying.

He winks at you, and all you want to do is pin him down until his pretty eyeliner is running down his face.

You can /tell/ that he's wet, the crotch of his shorts shiny with slick. Every time he sits down he rubs his thighs together, biting his lip and looking at you with a lust-heavy gaze.

You finally snap when he sits on your lap and /grinds/, gasping prettily into your ear and nipping at the shell of it, wetness smearing onto your thigh as he arches his back seductively.

"That is /it/." You growl, and he gives you a smug look as you pick him up and gently toss him onto the bed.

He moans when you tug off his shorts and your fingers immediately find his clit, pressing down on it meanly.

"A-ah, you finally gonna fuck me?" He taunts, voice shaking with lust.

"Oh, I'm gonna do you one even better baby blue." You remove your fingers from his clit, walking over to the closet that holds your harness and plethora of dildos, but also contains one of your favorite items.

A soft royal blue rope, worn slightly from use. You hear Leo gulp as you toss it onto the bed next to him and rummage around for the biggest, thickest dildo you own.

"I'm gonna /ruin/ you, brat." You sneer, attaching the dildo onto the harness and slapping it against his thigh.

"Now, spread 'em."

Leo's thighs are shiny with his slick, and you can practically see him shaking with excitement. He chirps involuntarily as you tie his hands behind his back before looping the rope around his thighs to keep them open. His cunt clenches around nothing, a churr rumbling in his chest.

"Now baby, do you think you deserve my cock?" You ask, fingers ghosting across his plastron.

"Y-yeah, I do, of course I do!" He replies, hips twitching upwards as your hand finds it's way to his inner thigh.

You pull your hand back and slap it, relishing in the sharp moan it elicits from him.

"Wrong answer, slut. /Brats/ don't deserve my cock."

You glare at him through your eyelashes and lower your mouth down to his leaking cunt, attaching onto his clit and sucking.

Leo gasps and moans, arching as far back as his shell will allow, trying desperately to roll his hips down onto your mouth. You slap his thigh again, scraping his clit with your teeth to hear him scream.

You detach from him with a wet pop, licking your lips and looking him in the eye.

"You're gonna have to beg, baby boy."

You slap his cunt next, the wetness resulting in a sound so lewd it makes Leo flush even deeper.

"Please, please, I want your cock! I'll be good, I promise!" He moans, voice lilting to try and make you take pity on him.

You rub tight circles against his clit to hear him keen, prodding your finger against his entrance. His greedy cunt seems to suck it in immediately, and you quickly add two more.

You scissor him open, slick coating your fingers as you feel him clench around them, signalling his oncoming orgasm.

You pull your fingers out immediately, leaving him high and dry. You stuff your fingers in his mouth, and he laps up his slick like it's the best thing he's ever tasted.

"You're such a desperate bitch, always begging for my cock...You really want it that bad? Want me to stuff your needy pussy?"

Leo trills around your fingers, tensing against the ropes and nearly writhing on the sheets.

"Please, I need it, need y'r cock-" He speaks around your fingers, voice slurring and drool dripping from his chin.

You take your spit-slick fingers and run them across the dildo before lining it up with his hole and slamming inside, not giving him any time to adjust.

"This what you wanted, whore? Wanted to be split apart on my cock?"

Leo nods frantically, short staccato moans being punched out with each thrust. You rub at his clit again, keeping an eye on him to make sure he gets close, but not close enough to cum.

He struggles more, the rope biting into his skin deliciously, panting and whining as his orgasm approaches again.

You take him right to the edge, nipping at his neck before you pull out and stop all stimulation again.

He nearly sobs, eyes glassy with unshed tears and flushed down to his chest.

"P-please, please lemme cum, I promise I'll be good, please!" He whimpers, hips twitching.

"Oh, poor baby. What, can you not handle your punishment anymore? What happened to all that brattiness, hm?" You cup his face with one hand and slap his cunt again with the other, watching him squirm and try to grind against your palm.

"Does my needy slut wanna get off? Does he wanna cum on my cock?"

You shove your fingers in his mouth again before he can answer, holding it open and pressing down on his tongue.

Leo's eyeliner is smeared across his eyes, black tears running down his face as you slam home again and sit unmoving.

He clenches around the thick dildo, ropes tight around his thighs as he tries to close them.

He's beautiful, you think. The blue of the ropes contrasting with his red and yellow markings and thighs messy with slick and spit. He gasps out sob after sob as you pound into him again, spearing him open without mercy.

He nearly chokes on your fingers, churring and whining.

"God, you're such a slut, you wish my fingers were another cock, huh?"

Leo's canines scrape across your fingers, and you pull them out to flutter your fingers against his face. He keens high in his throat, biceps straining against the ropes.

"U-untie me, my arms, please? W'nna hold you, please!" A string of needy whines accompany his words and you deftly untie his arms. His arms wrap around you, claws digging into your back as he clings to you and sobs in pleasure.

"Close, 'm close, I-" Leo trills and churrs uncontrollably and whines in pleasure-pain when you pull out again.

"Fuck, fuck! C'mon, I- I've been good, 'M a good boy, please lemme cum!"

His hole is red and puffy, leaking and clenching around nothing. His clit throbs in time with his heartbeat and his fingers flutter against your face.

You fuck the tip of the strap in and out of him shallow thrusts leaving him sobbing into your neck. He nips and bites at it, muffling his desperate moans.

"Sorry, 'm sorry, I'll be good, won't be a brat anymore, please jus' let me cum! Please, please, pl-" You cut him off with a kiss, biting at his bottom lip until you taste metal.

"You gonna be good for me? Gonna be my good boy?"

Leo pants, chirping high and arching against you.

"Go on baby, touch yourself for me okay? You did so good, you can cum now."

Leo nearly wails as his hand shoots down to rub at his clit, wrecked noises falling from his lips as his thighs tense.

"Come on baby, you can do it! Cum for me, cum on my cock!"

Leo shudders /hard/, voice breaking as he screams, clamping down hard on the dildo and squirting. You fuck him through it and into another one, his body strung taut with pleasure and eyes nearly rolled back into his head. He chants your name like a prayer as his orgasm wracks his body, before devolving into a mess of soft chirps and clicks.

He's still twitching with the aftershocks of two back-to-back orgasms as you untie his legs, smoothing a soothing balm onto his scales. You clean him up, showering him with praises as he nuzzles close to you like a particularly handsome heat-seeking missile.

You pepper soft kisses all across his face, wiping away the teartracks and remnants of his eyeliner before discarding the strap and cuddling close to him in bed.

He falls asleep purring as you gently rub his shell, knowing that his promise of being good will only last the next few days.

[occasionallyprosie]

"Duty Versus Heart"

Most Sheikah swore fealty to the goddess, and eventually the royal family, from an early age. Those who trained to be in service of either would have an official ceremony where they swore to give their lives to serve the goddess and protect her bloodline. This was the duty that Legend had, but that duty had nothing to do with the decision he made.

Febuwhump 2024 | Prompt 24: "I'm doing this because I care about you."

Event Masterlist

Read On AO3 Warnings: Major Character Death ----

Legend didn't know what caused the complete inability to redirect his thoughts, but some random cold night in an inn where he rested beside the hearth as the others chattered on behind him, he couldn't get his thoughts to remain present.

The cold ground almost felt wet, the pops of the firewood was a dripping leak, and the storm outside for once didn't sound ten times louder than it was, it sounded like iron boots on hard ground.

"You... Link, why... yew shouldn' be 'ere," a low, tobacco-roughened voice rumbled. "Ah... ya always... always were too curious f'r yer own good."

Tears pricked his eyes and he was quick to tuck his face against his arm, feigning trying to fall asleep by the fire. He wasn't there. That was years ago, why was it hitting him again now?

"Take--" Alphon's voice was cut off by a wet, choking cough. "Take my sword and shield... it's time... T-The princess--You must save her."

Link wanted to scream, the blood soaking his hand as he vainly tried to slow the breathing. His voice was caught in his throat.

"Princess Zelda is... is your..."

His responsibility, his reason for fighting, it was his duty to protect her and he knew it. He'd been trained for this since he could walk but he wasn't meant to do it until he was of age!

"Vet?"

Legend inhaled sharply, a real voice cutting through his mind like a knife. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his face on his sleeve subtly before he raised it to look at Sky.

"Hey," Sky murmured softly, "I didn't mean to wake you, but it's getting late and you'll sleep better in bed even if the fire is warm."

Legend hummed softly, closing his eyes and still seeing that damned sewer and Alphon's dead body. Just the image of a body bleeding out was rapidly replaced by the thousand others he'd seen die, the knights he killed himself, Raven was a near miss but he still sometimes saw his body, Ralph too, Gulley and Irene and all the sages, Marin and the people of Koholint. He'd seen Cadence's body far too many times.

He pried his eyes open again to look at Sky again.

"Why?" He muttered, apparently loud enough the older hero could hear him.

"Why what?" Sky sat down, no longer just crouched down to his level.

"Why--I'm an adult, I can handle myself, so why are you trying to?"

Sky smiled gently. "Because I want to, collector."

"I'm not--I don’t need... I don’t need your help," he said quietly. "And for the record, it's my job to make sure you get out of this alive." Him and likely Wild and Hyrule too, from what he could sense.

"Fine," Sky huffed a bit. "Do that. I'll keep doing what I'm doing though, and you want to know why?"

Legend dragged his attention away from dripping sewers, thudding boots overhead, and the blood soaking into his skin for the first time that never truly left his pores.

"I'm doing this because I care about you," Sky carded his hand through Legend's hair and he froze up. "You can't stop me from caring, and you can't stop me from taking care of you as a result."

"LOOK OUT!"

Legend whirled around, dodging one swinging club and deflecting a sword.

Everyone was being overwhelmed and Legend was having to actually pull out every trick he had. He seemed to be one of maybe three who could handle the onslaught of monsters alone, the others had managed to double or triple up.

He was alone, Warriors was alone, and he was pretty sure Sky was alone too. Wild was with Hyrule, Twilight with Wind, and Time with Four.

Legend cut down another monster only for two more to take its place. A spin attack took down several monsters around him, but even then it only did so much. He didn't fail to notice that he, and Warriors and Sky, had the most monsters assaulting them but also left the most smoking bodies in their wake. For whatever reason, they were currently considered the largest threats.

Maybe they were just more used to fighting large groups of monsters at a time, Legend wasn't too sure.

Either way, he could feel himself being driven away from the others and couldn't do anything to prevent that. He could get back to them if he needed to, but as it stood, they were handling themselves even if it was with some struggle.

From the corner of his eye, Legend saw an axe swinging toward Sky's unprotected side. The older hero was finally being overwhelmed and he heard someone scream for the Chosen to look out!

Shadows were his home, he grew up walking in and through them. After all, after his parents died, his aunt raised him as her own and he was to take her place for the next queen, Zelda or Fable as he'd taken to calling her for simplicity's sake.

Shadows and knives were what he was trained with since he could walk and hold a blade. Shadow-stepping was something he had perfected since he was six. Merging with a shadow and stepping out of another was second nature, even if he never used it around others when he was like this because right now, he was a hero, not a warrior.

And Sky was the first king of Hyrule, he was the progenitor of the royal bloodline. Legend had sworn when he was eight that he would serve and protect the royal bloodline, and Alphon, the Hylian knight who guided him through Hylian customs so he could blend in, gave him his sword and shield to fight. He swore that again, formally, the moment he turned sixteen and wasn't on an adventure as the hero.

Sky may not be of the goddess's blood, but he was of her family and therefore of the royal family, and Legend had one job.

Protect the royal family.

However, that had nothing to do with why he did what he did.

Someone screamed. Legend stood with an axe in his side, between Sky and the daira that had almost killed him.

He stabbed it in return. He heard someone cry out but was more focused on the daira falling and him ripping the axe out of his body since it was either take it out now or let gravity do it.

Ice followed his blade as he used the Ether medallion a second time, driving off a good portion of the monsters that had been assaulting Sky. Voices were fading out fast but if there was anything Legend was good at, it was fighting while half dead.

Eventually that half began to quickly increase.

Twilight and Wind were fighting above them, Sky catching Legend as his body gave out.

"No, no, no--hold on. Vet hey, hey, look at me."

They didn't have any healing supplies, they were hoping to find a village soon... Hyrule had used so many spells during the fight, he wouldn't be able to employ that Life spell he'd saved Twilight with.

"Vet please!" Sky begged him. "Link! Come on, stay with me!"

Legend wheezed, adrenaline still masking the pain but not making up the strength he needed to keep fighting anymore.

"Hey," he breathed out, promptly coughing and choking on the blood that filled his mouth from the inside.

"Hey, no--I NEED A POTION!"

Somehow everyone had converged and was driving the monsters back with some kind of wall. He was proud of them.

"WE RAN OUT!" Someone called back. "CALL A FAIRY!"

Legend grabbed Sky's arm. Sky quickly looked back at him. "It's..." he spluttered blood, choking and clearing his throat. "It's going--It'll be okay."

"No--Why would you do that?" Sky demanded, clearly distressed and fair, Legend was dying in his arms, he had a valid reason to be distressed. "Just hold on, we'll figure something out, I swear. Just--Why? Why would you do that?

"Be...Because... I did..." Legend inhaled shakily, choking and watching the shadows draw closer to greet him properly. "I did... I did this because I... I care about... I care about you."

Sky audibly held back a sob.

Legend smiled weakly. "You... You can't stop me... can't stop me from caring."

The shadows finally closed in, greeting him and taking him back home.

[nonobadcat]

A real world AU Gothic Romance - part 2/3

Artwork by the amazing @obsidianne-art

Pairing: Ghost Shigaraki X Fem!Reader

Rating: Readers 18+ only

Content Warnings: Dead dog mention, PnO, V/oy with stalker vibes, self-care of an adult nature, mentions of a rich family being jerks to working class Reader

Chapter Two Word Count: 3.9k, Ao3 Mirror

Part I ---❤--- Part 3

Saturday, October 22nd, 2022

Slamming the door of your ten year old car, you ducked your head under one arm and raced through the cold, October rain. By the time the front door banged shut, wet tendrils of wild hair were plastered to your skin. Wiping your forehead, you kicked off your muddy shoes and threw your patched, Carhartt coat over the grand newel at the front of the stairs.

Making a fake mouth with your hand, you mimicked a nasally whine. “Do you really need to go in and out so many times? You’re letting the cold in! Jayden-Breydon-Ashton-Trenton will get pneumonia and his lungs will be damaged. If my perfect child can’t win at every sport known to man because of you, I'll sue! My husband’s a lawyer! Our congressman will hear about this!” Your tool bag thumped to the floor as you trudged up the stairs grumbling to yourself. “Yeah, and your Karen nonsense is gonna pay quadruple time before I go out at seven on a Saturday cause your dumb brat flushed his plastic army men down the toilet. Again!”

As you turned the final step, your dominant hand’s pointer finger caught on the rail, forcing the already injured digit back a painful 190 degrees. A stream of violent curses poured from your mouth, dripping onto the antique banister with enough acidic bite to melt the finish. Peeling off the plastic Pokémon bandaid, you glared at the inch long slice down the inside of your knuckle. 

“Friggen yuppie bedroom communities and their cookie cutter, spliced together McMansions!” you grumbled, slamming a flat palm into the bedroom door. It banged open, bouncing off the newly installed spring stopper before sliding to a halt. Ripping off your coveralls, you tossed the filthy, muck soaked mess into the plastic basket marked “Work Clothes” in half erased black sharpie. “Small wonder the plumbing is always clogged. The builder did such a junk job that crap rolls up the pipes! Another Bryane Homes special!”

Flinging your undergarments to the creamy, hex tile floor, you flipped on the shower, listening to the old pipes thump twice before water finally emerged. Air in the lines again, huh? Looks like this weekend you'd be leak checking everything that "master plumber" did, again. The previous homeowner sure didn't know how to find a handyman.

Stepping past the glass door into the recently remodeled shower of beige stone, you snagged your favorite body wash and mopped the stink of the day off your skin. The splash of water on the stainless drain grate mingled with deep sighs, ventilation fans, and the clunk of your skull on smooth tile. 

"I hate humanity!" you groaned, burying your head in your hands.

After completing your nightly routine, you opened the bedroom door, letting the warm, humid air fill the cold, dry room. Hard rain pelted the windows, rolling in thick droplets down the dark glass. Thunder rumbled in the distance as you padded naked and barefoot across the oak floor. You snapped on the small table lamp near your bed and headed for the wardrobe.

The royal purple, babydoll chemise slipped onto your body like a glove. Lacy, princess seams and triangular cups were lined with smooth raylon for discreet, but suggestive coverage. Trimmed with tiny satin bows, the mesh back hugged your curves before dipping into a graceful, flowing skirt. A ruffled hem hung two inches below your crotch line, showing off soft thighs and tiger-striped stretch marks. Tugging on cute panties, you climbed into smooth, cool sheets and pulled the flimsy microfiber comforter over your shoulders. The bedside light snapped off. Heavy lids drifted shut.

The tritone blast of a train whistle rattled through the windows. With a groan, you pulled your flat pillow over your head and buried your face in the mattress. Steady click-clacks accompanied the dull roar that poured in on the blustering winds. Eye twitching, you looked up just as lightning flashed across the room. Caught in the bright glare, red eyes glowed in the mirror.

Hold up, what?!

You sat bolt upright, clutching the cheap blanket to your chest. The pounding of your heart drowned out the next thunder clap. You squinted at the looking glass, but there was no sign of anything but the bathroom light.

Aw crap. Duh. The bathroom!

The bedside lamp clicked back on. With a frustrated snarl, you trapsed across the room and flipped the wall switch, snuffling out the CFL above the toilet. Tugging the door shut, you cast a wary glance at the old mirror. Still nothing there. Shaking your head, you crawled back into bed and flicked the table light off again.

Fifteen minutes after the train blew past, you lay in bed, staring at the cracked plaster ceiling. Though softening droplets made for relaxing background noise, itchy eyes and a wild imagination refused to let you rest. Counting down from one hundred proved useless.You’d tensed and released your entire body muscle by muscle, twice. Four-Seven-Eight breathing did little to ease your racing mind. You swallowed, realizing the one thing you hadn’t tried yet.

Oh yeah right! Like you could get off when those burning eyes were seared into your brain!

Rolling over for the fiftieth time, you spotted the murky outline of the mahogany secretary through the shadows. Huh… Well, if sexy thoughts were too awkward, maybe picturing something cute and heartwarming would do?

You groaned, pressing your palms to your dry eyes. Throwing off the covers, you walked to the old writing desk and flopped down the front panel. The key clicked in the latch. You extracted the picture of the Shimura children and their dog before heading back to bed. The bedside lamp flipped on. Your hand traced the edge of the old photograph.

“Geeze, you both were really cute kids.” You pursed your lips, checking the date. Tidy, pencil lead scrawl read: 1884.  “Ugh… The poor dog only made it a year?! Screw that puppy puncher!” 

You laid the photo on the nightstand, before flopping back onto your bed. As you curled onto your side, half-stuffed blankets cupped your cheek. You yawned, picturing the sweet smile on the little boy's face. Warm, dark eyes beamed with joy as he clutched his new friend like a treasure. You hummed, grabbing a roll of the comforter and dragging it to your chest. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel soft fur and excited panting, as if you were the one with a puppy in your arms. The steady thump of rain on glass reminded you of a fast paced doggie heartbeat. Buried face first in your fantasy, your breathing slowed. Tired limbs grew heavy as your brain floated away.

“I hope you did okay after everything, Tenko,” you murmured into the blankets. “I wish I could have met you.”

Racing through the pounding rain, you braced a hand over your eyes. The light of the grand house ahead pierced the blurry haze, guiding you up the gravel drive. Slick kidskin boots took the stairs two at a time. Wet hands shoved slimy strands of ruined hair behind your ears. Cold precipitation soaked through your waist-hugging wool coat. The fashionable bell sleeves of the short, double breasted jacket did little to protect your blouse from the elements. Water dripped from the poofy edge of cream silk bishop sleeves. You tugged out the long pins that clamped your toque hat to your head. Rain had flooded the dark beaver felt. The tiny brim sagged low like your mood. With as much dignity as you could muster, you straightened the deep purple kick pleats of your wool skirt before rapping on the door. 

Kerosene lamplight spilled out onto the porch as a tall, imposing butler in a double breasted suit stared down at you. “May I help you?” he asked. 

You squinted to make out his features, but even holding a lantern, his face was obscured by shadow. Swallowing your nerves, you rolled your shoulders back. The wet plip-plop from saturated silk ruined the image. Still, you raised your chin. “I am terribly sorry to bother you, but my bicycle tire went flat just before sunset. I must have gotten turned around in the lane during the storm and now I’m hopelessly lost. May I stay here until morning?”

“Kurogiri,” a gravelly voice growled from the front parlor. “Show her in.”

“Of course,” the butler replied, bowing at the waist. He held one arm out, gesturing to the open door. “Please, come this way.”

Leaving puddles with each step of your button-up ankle boots, you trod soddenly into the next room. Sumptuous scarlet wallpaper patterned with geometric golden rings glowed in the dim yellow light of the brass and glass wall sconce. A high backed, Rococo revival sofa set sat atop a plush, hand knotted wool rug. Across a throne of golden floral brocades, the evening paper lay tossed aside. You followed long, slender ankles up black merino trousers to a smoking jacket the color of pinot noir. Single breasted and well fit, its shawl collar was trimmed in deep ebony velvet. Instead of buttons, two ornate frog closures nipped in at the waist. White collar unbuttoned to his throat latch and leaning against the window, the master of the house peered at you with burning red eyes. Flowing waves of silver-white hair cascaded around his heart shaped face. When you froze, he scratched the side of his dry, peeling neck and grinned at you.

“Retro suits you,” he teased. 

Dumbfounded, you stared at the handsome twenty something.

With a hum, he rose to his feet and moved a plush, small stool nearer to the fireplace. “Kurogiri, prepare a hot bath.”

The butler snapped his heels and headed up the stairs, leaving you dripping on the not-so-old wood floor.

Your host patted the rich, tufted upholstery. “Take off your coat and get warm before you catch the flu.”

Horrified, you waved your hands. “I’m soaked! I’ll ruin your furniture!”

Rolling his eyes, he stalked across the room and snatched up your wrist. “You made it this far barging into my life, why worry about it now?”

As howling wind rattled the bay windows, you shivered.

The slender man pushed you down onto the plush seat, plucking the buttons of your tightly fitted coat before you could protest. He shook it out, spattering water across the ivory carpet before hanging it over the back of a chair. “See?” he demanded, pointing to the pristine rug. “It doesn’t matter here.”

“Here?” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “What do you mean?”

He snorted, flopping down on the sofa. Resting his pointy elbows on his knees, he smirked at your over folded hands. “It’s just a dream. You can’t ruin anything.”

"A dream?" You peeked around him at the elegant impressionist paintings on the walls. Through the open door, you spotted a square based, bone china vase on a familiar mahogany table. Startled eyes flicked back to the man before you. "Hey wait a second, this is—"

"My home," he finished with a taunting sneer. "I lived here long before you did."

You narrowed your eyes, scanning up and down his features. "Who are you?"

With a scowl, he pointed to his nose. "Seriously? You're the one who asked to meet me, idiot."

As he threw himself back in the chair, the kerosene lamplight faded from his face. Dark waves and almond eyes dragged the picture of the little boy to the front of your mind. You lept to your feet in excitement.

"Tenko?! Tenko Shimura?!"

The man before you cringed like he'd been smacked with a brick. Grabbing your arm, he dragged you down to his level. "Don't call me that! That's not my name!"

Wobbly, worn out legs threatened to pitch you forward into his lap. When your knees buckled, panicked hands caught the wooden frame of the sofa. With his face only an inch away, brilliant red irises reminded you of living rubies. Though his brow hair had been burned away and the skin under his eyes looked painfully dry, the adorable mole on his right chin made your heart skip. Your breath caught in your throat. The tiny scar on his left lip curled with his sneer. Blazing heat splashed over your skin, surging up into your head like three glasses of sherry. 

Oh crap… he was stupid hot!

"O-oh!" you stammered, forcing a pinched laugh. "I'm… er… um…" Your eyes rolled away from his pointed stare. "Sorry." 

With an irritated sigh, he loosed your arm and scratched his neck. "Just don't call me Shimura again, got it?"

"Of course! I'm really sorry!" Swallowing down the stone in your throat, you fiddled with your fingers. "I would have changed my name too, given the circumstances."

He tossed you a proud smirk. "I knew you would understand."

A pointed cough echoed from the door. "Master Shigaraki," the butler called. "The bath is ready, as you requested."

Freshly aware of exactly how close your face was to your host, you jolted backwards. The heel of your boots caught on the plush carpet. Just as you started to slip, Shigaraki wrapped one arm around your corseted waist and pulled you into his chest.

"Shall we go upstairs?" he purred in your ear.

Okay… now you were wet for an entirely different reason.

Step by step, the master of the house led you up the walnut treads towards the far bedroom. He smelled like feral cumin-musk and spicy cloves. As you passed the master suite, you raised a curious brow.

"That was my parents’," he explained, pulling you along. "I never wanted to sleep in the same place as that man."

"Oh…" you murmured, following him into the northern bedroom. "That makes a lot of sense.”

In your-er… his sleeping quarters, the gothic revival bed set and elegant writing desk sat in the same spots as their present-day counterparts. However, the warm amber stain looked much less yellow than in your time. Beyond the pocket bathroom door, polished marble tiles led to a gilded porcelain soaking tub. Steam poofed into the cold air, curling up past cream silk papered walls delicately trimmed with gold leaf. Dried lavender potpourri scented the room. A fluffy towel lay neatly folded on the mother-of-pearl pedestal sink.

The fingers on your corset dipped down to your hips as he loomed over your shoulder. Warm breath tickled your ear.  "After your bath, you can apologize properly for your mistake.”

A coy smile curled onto your lips. “Define properly?”

Two fingers gripped your chin and turned your face to his. Red eyes drifted shut. “Take a guess.”

Shigaraki's lips tasted of wine and copper. With a moan, you leaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands drifted to the buttons on the back of your wool skirt. It slumped to the floor, pooling around your ankles. A soft tongue stroked yours. You met his motions with heated enthusiasm. Deft fingers plucked the fasteners of your wet, ruffled blouse until it slipped from your shoulders. Tangling his hand in your stays, he tugged your s-curve corset and its cover free. Your thumbs hooked under your drawers and petticoat, throwing them to the ground. Kicking them away, all that remained between you and him was a thin, silk chemise and one pair of stubborn, button-up boots.

“How on earth do you people even get to the good part?!” you demanded, squatting to fight with the brass closures.

He cackled. “A little excited are we?”

You reached up and cupped the bulge in his trousers. “You’re one to talk," you fired back with a naughty wink.

The pale man groaned, snatching your wrist into his strong grip. His cheeks flushed pink. “If you want to make it to that bath, stop now," he rasped.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you flashed him a saucy smirk. “Bold of you to assume I give a rat’s about the bath.” 

All at once, Shigaraki dragged you to your feet, smashing his lips against yours like he intended to eat you alive. As you giggled, he broke the kiss and marched you back into the bedroom. “Wagtail,” he growled, tossing a pillow on the floor.

Settling yourself on your knees, you pawed at the front of his pants. “I don't know what that means, but I like dogs.”

Fortunately for everyone involved, his pants had far fewer buttons than your stupid shoes. You fumbled with the frog closures for only a moment before shoving the velvet smoking jacket out of the way. Untucking his long shirtwaist, your fun screeched to a halt when you encountered long underwear.

“What the actual—” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “So much for a strip tease!” Faking a pout, you tugged on his shirt. “Help a horny girl out?”

With a snort of laughter, Shigaraki quickly shuffled out of his complex layers. By the time you got your damp chemise and stupid boots off, his stiff cock finally escaped its elborate prison. Thumb and forefinger forming a ring grip, you gave him a few experimental strokes. When he tossed his head back, white waves haloed his face. You bit your lip, savoring the ethereal beauty of his fair complexion against those haunting crimson irises. 

A firm hand cupped the back of your head. “Now you slow down?” he demanded between pants.

Tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear, you lowered your lips to his weeping, flushed tip. “Calm down. I'm just savoring the moment.”

When your hot mouth slipped over his salty head, the man above you gasped. Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed your way down, inch by inch. Your tongue stroked the thick vein on his underside, trailing up to the small piece of tissue just below the spongy crown. Flicking the sensitive skin elicited a throaty whimper.

Shigaraki’s strong fingers curled tighter into your scalp as he loosed a garbled curse. “More,” he demanded.

You smirked at the expletive before diving back down. 

Taking his generous girth deep into your mouth, your tongue lolled around the edge of his shaft. Your free hand slid up his soft inner thighs. Rolling his balls between your fingers, you shivered when musky precum coated your tastebuds. Harsh pants from above urged you on.

As you worked him further into ecstasy, each stuttered thrust crept closer and closer to the soft roof of your mouth. You angled him away from your gag, swallowing down thick saliva. It didn’t help. Drool pooled at the corners of your mouth, leaving him coated in slick. Wet clicks accompanied choked whines as you worked him to the back of your throat.

Shigaraki squirmed in your hold, guiding you into a relentless pace. Your jaw ached as his swollen cock forced you to spread your teeth wider. Tears welled at your lash line. His filthy moans stoked the heat between your legs. All at once, he stiffed, his hard grip clamping down on your skull.

With a hoarse gasp, he spilled himself down your throat.

Flying up in your bed, you banged your chest as violent coughs wracked your body. By the time you cleared your sore throat, all you could smell was stale, salty breath. You groped for the clock on your night stand. Red LEDs read 3:39am. Your thighs shifted against each other. Wet need stained your panties.

“Not fair!” you whined, slamming your fist into your limp pillow. “Of course I wake up before the good part!”

Flopping back onto the mattress, you rolled onto your side and squeezed your eyes shut. How long you laid there, staring at the back of your eyelids was impossible to say. However, while the digital numbers rolled upwards, sleep danced further and further away. The cravings from your wet dream still burning in your skin, you whimpered and slipped your hand between your legs.

That was when a rip of pain reminded you of that nasty slice on your finger.

Cussing violently, you flipped on the table light. Sure enough, fresh crimson seeped across the previously clotted wound. Throwing off the covers, you gripped your bleeding finger and shuffled off to the cold bathroom. Thrusting your hand under the tap, you gingerly cleaned and dried the injury. The mirrored medicine cabinet rattled open. You peeled a brand new Pikachu Band-aid from its packaging and slapped it over the damaged digit. Closing your eyes, you leaned on the ceramic sink. It was no good. Sharp stabs from your hand couldn’t compete with the hypersensitive need crawling up your core.

As your fingers curled into the thin, cheap towel, you knew what you had to do to fall asleep.

From his glassy vantage point, Tomura watched your pursed lips and frustrated stomping with a pleased sneer. Dragging the flimsy Walmart towel from its mount, you trudged back into your bedroom and threw it on the sheets. Though the light snapped off, he could still see as clear as day. With a raised brow, he watched you ball the fabric under your hips and flop over onto your stomach. 

As you began to grind yourself on the towel, a long deceased cock sprung back to life.

One palm flat against the cool bedding, your free hand tugged the stretch lace cup of your slinky nightgown aside. Soft fingers tickled your bare breast before tweaking the pert nipple. You shuddered, loosing a slutty moan. 

Leaning against the surface of his mirror, Tomura shuffled himself out of his clothes and gripped his shaft. Watching you roll your body against the rough cloth sent a spike of pleasure through his belly. Erotic creaks from his old bed left his mouth bone dry. Your blood plumped lips and half lidded eyes made for fertile fantasies. Swiping some of the pre-cum from his slit, he began to match your pace.

As you worked yourself further and further into depravity, the show before him left Tomura feverish and panting. He watched your legs curl and slacken as you tried to find the right pressure. A few irritated grumbles accompanied rustling bed sheets. When you finally hit upon a position that made your body clench, he heard filthy pleas spilling for your lips.

“Please,” you begged, your hips vibrating against the rough fabric. “W-want your cock so bad!”

Liquid heat blazed through his veins as he fisted his swollen length. Stoking the fire with each pump, he chased the feverish sensation with single-minded desire. The sound of your eager cries and sight of your fingers teasing the pert nub propelled him forward. Hazy eyes watched your body tremble as he pictured himself balls-deep in your velvety cunt. It should be his hand teasing your tit. It should be his fingers making those slutty noises spill from your puffy lips. He clenched his teeth, losing himself in thoughts of your soft body clamped around his swollen cock.

It was then that a raspy inhale accompanied the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 

“Shi-Shigaraki…” You whimpered his name, burying your face in the mattress. “Mmmm gonna… gonna—”

All at once, he exploded over the glass. Limp body leaning on the frame, he drank in the sight of your heaving chest and dazed smile. He watched you shove the towel to the floor and snuggle into the pillow. As your breathing slowed, one overpowering, addictive thought filled his brain with intoxicating lust.

He had to hear you call his real name over and over in that same, needy voice.

Taglist:

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[the-empress-7]

I’ve just listened to the podcast Low was on this week and I think we should all prepare for a bunch of nothing. Not from HM, of course, but from the royals. He said that perhaps one or two of the bullied ppl could come out and say something under anonimity but the rest wont because they have careers. And he insisted the royals should shut up and shower them with kindness, basically, to leave the door open, which might be the prevailing opinion amongst the “we have weathered worse” crowd. Between these two things and the leaks that C told the staff to treat the whole thing as a private family spat I dont expect much rumbling from the palaces. Even from KP- Low insisted Will is allergic to having anyone say anything bad about H (which makes me wonder if tomorrow morning might be a test for William as a man, who he chooses, if he has to, between his brother and his wife).

I expect tomorrow to be a downpour, followed by mousy palace voices professing their big love. I’m sure it will be the same after H’s interview, and after the book and after whatever comes next.

It will be crickets from the Palace over the next few weeks. However I fully expect a reaction from Charles and BP as soon as the book is out, because that's when Harry will go after Charles and Camilla. You see as long as it's the Heir and his family under attack its...

PS: William can only make one choice, he can only choose the Monarchy. He has already made that choice many times over.

[whataboutthefish]

Day 17

Prompt 17 Menophilia | Intercrural Sex | Sadomasochism

Geralt/Eskel, Quickie, Post monster fight, Intercrural sex

Words 498

When Geralt and Eskel returned to camp, their eyes were black as night, both panting as the  toxicity and adrenaline coursed through their systems. The royal Griffin's head was hanging from Eskel’s grip, and the Witcher tossed it over by their packs with a sickening thud as it hit the earth. 

Watching it roll, Geralt felt the familiar itch under his skin, the potions still pumping through his veins, driving him forward to a fight that was over. The campsite was calm, the fire glowing softly as the leaves of the forest rustled around them, but his body craved more. Geralt must have let out a whimper because he was suddenly being crowded by Eskel, the heat of his body intense as he shoved Geralt against a tree. With a growl, Eskel caged him in, thick arms coming to rest on either side of Geralt’s body. Geralt bared his neck in submission, a keening noise leaving him. 

Eskel was also beyond words, eyes black and teeth bared as he snarled, grunting as he grabbed at the ties to Geralt’s trousers. Yanking  them down below Geralt’s thighs, Eskel twisted  Geralt around, slamming his chest hard against the rough bark of the tree trunk. Running on instinct, Geralt could only mewl as he felt Eskel’s thick cock slide between his thighs. 

It was raw, the way Eskel fucked between his legs. The head of his thick, leaking cock bumped up behind Geralt’s balls, the force of it sending shock waves through his body. Nerves alight, Geralt clawed at the bark as the rumble of Eskel’s chest vibrated against his back. The rough scrape of bark on Geralt’s cheek and Eskel’s steady thrusting was all bringing Geralt closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. 

He mewled again, knowing Eskel was close. Teeth clamped down over Geralt’s shoulder, biting hard. Pinned as he was, Geralt could only shift his head, giving Eskel more room as he pushed his hips back to chase his own release, the pain delicious. 

Eskel came with a howl, so loud and feral it was sure to have cleared the forest of any prey animals in their radius. The sound rolled through Geralt and he was tumbling hard, following Eskel with an answering cry.As the rush of the fight, the potions and the release settled into his bones, Geralt’s world darkened.

“You with me wolf?” Eskel murmured into his neck, licking over the wound his bite had left. 

“Fuck.” Geralt replied, sagging into Eskel’s hold. The clearing scented like them now, mingling with the wood and campfire smoke to remind Geralt of home. Geralt’s spend was splattered against the tree, and he could feel the mess Eskel left cooling between his thighs. Groaning, Geralt pushed himself upright and yanked up his trousers, Eskel chuckling behind him. Running a hand through his tangled hair, sweat and Griffin guts coated his hands, Geralt swore again.  “There’s a stream just over the rise, and I need a fucking bath.”

[shonuff77]

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