#the-great-mighty-dick

[drummer-from-down-under]

Rewatched The Mighty Ducks trilogy. Have some shitty memes.

[multiversemittens]

All vampires are bastards.

Except for The Great and Mighty Kevin who must be protected at all costs.

[noel-fielding-web-page]

‘The fact that I’m still here is amazing’: Noel Fielding on Bake Off, booze and the Boosh

He has gone from cult niche to smash hit and he still can’t believe it. As Bake Off returns, the comic talks about his ‘feral’ upbringing, his party years – and the day Hammond fell out of a hammock

Noel Fielding’s highlight of the new series of The Great British Bake Off wasn’t a show-stopping cake. In fact, it wasn’t any type of baked goods. It wasn’t even a shot of a squirrel with outsized testicles. It was his co-host Alison Hammond falling out of a hammock.

“I’ll never be able to unsee it,” he says. “What I love about Alison – and I mean this with the greatest of respect – is that she’s an absolute klutz. If anyone’s going to fall out of a hammock, it’ll be her. She also fell backwards off one of the workbenches while showing off. Don’t worry, she was OK. No Hammonds were harmed in the making of this series.”

As the autumnal fixture returns to our screens, Fielding promises a 15th series on peak form. “It’s a belter,” he says. “There are some very special bakers in the tent this year. Somehow the standard keeps getting higher. These unbelievable young bakers are way better than they should be for their age. It’s a vintage year. One of the best yet.”

By stealth, the surrealist goth has become a Bake Off veteran. This is Fielding’s eighth series at the helm, meaning he’s now served a longer stint than original hosts Mel Giedroyc and Sue Perkins. “Who knew that was going to happen?” he marvels. “Maybe Paul Hollywood’s hypnotised me. I can’t escape the tractor beam of those blue eyes. I loved that original lineup, with Mary [Berry], Mel and Sue, as much as anyone. When me and Sandi [Toksvig] took over, we were terrified. We knew it was a massive risk. We said: ‘Let’s see if we can last one series.’ The fact that I’m still here is amazing.”

A family affair? … (from left) Fielding, Alison Hammond, Paul Hollywood and Prue Leith. Photograph: Mark Bourdillon/Channel 4

Toksvig later admitted “I felt my brain atrophying” after three series of glazes and ganaches. How does Fielding keep it fresh? “Sandi, as we know, is a massive brain. She went to Cambridge, she’s super-smart, she writes, she does politics, she needs to be stimulated. She never stays anywhere too long, except QI which is the perfect show for her. The difference between us is that I’ve always really enjoyed hanging out with the bakers. I befriend them and get them to open up. Nobody expected that to be my strength. I assumed it’d be the sketches and banter. In fact, I’m fascinated by the people. I feel protective of them. If Paul and Prue [Leith] are hard on them, I’m absolutely livid. It’s devastating when they leave. This year I was particularly fond of one baker. When I had to send them home, I cried.”

Hammond is his third co-host. “It feels like I’ve done three different shows,” he says. “First with Sandi, under enormous pressure but we pulled it off. Then with Matt [Lucas], which was a privilege because he’s a comedy genius. Now I’m enjoying it more than ever. Alison’s not a comedian, so she’s not as neurotic about jokes as I am, but she’s a brilliant improviser and instinctively funny. She slotted right in. Paul and Prue are very fond of her. Even my kids adore her. We’re having a blast.”

Judges and presenters refer to “the Bake Off stone” – a tendency to gain weight during each 10-week run. In her sophomore series, Hammond valiantly attempted to resist. “She tried to eat less this year but Alison’s quite childlike. She said: ‘Noel, stop me eating cake, I want to be good.’ The next time I saw her, she was literally like [he mimes shovelling in cake]. Alison has a good time all the time. You don’t want her to not be eating the cakes.”

Fielding, now 51, had a “feral” upbringing in Croydon. Hammond was raised in a Birmingham council house. He relishes these “two working-class kids galloping around Welford Park”, the Grade I-listed Berkshire estate where the marquee is pitched each summer. “If you’ve grown up in a working-class environment and go to a stately home, you’re like: ‘Woah! This is like Willy Wonka’s factory.’ We’re like urchins in front of Dame Prue. I permanently feel like I’ve come to sweep Prue’s chimney.” He describes Bake Off’s star quartet as “a funny old family”. Who’s who? “Prue and Paul are Mum and Dad, obviously. Alison’s the wild daughter. I reckon I’m the cat. Or am I the dog? Paul would say I’m the teenage son who’s secretly a vampire.”

‘We knew it was a massive risk’ … Fielding with Sandi Toksvig on the 12th series of The Great British Bake Off. Photograph: Channel 4/Love Productions/Mark Bourdillon/PA

The last time we spoke, Fielding reflected on his 00s era as a hedonistic scenester. “I took partying to its logical conclusion,” he said. “When you’ve been partying with Kate Moss and Courtney Love, you’ve gone as far as you can go. A few friends ended up in rehab. I was sick of partying anyway and lucky enough to have my family at the right time [he has two daughters with wife Lliana Bird]. It was like: ‘This is what I was looking for!’”

He returns to the theme today, pondering how Bake Off arrived at the right time. “When I got this job, I’d just had my first child, I was painting a lot and had a different lifestyle. This show fitted that phase. You want to match your career to where you are in life. It’s mainstream, family-friendly and my kids love it, so it suits me. I love not partying – and I never thought I’d say that.”

A fellow comic turned artist provides career inspiration. “I’d love to concentrate on art more as I get older. I love what Vic Reeves [Jim Moir] is doing, making art documentaries and his Painting Birds series. Vic and Bob [Mortimer] were a big influence on me. Now he looks genuinely happy. I’d love to do something similar.”

Claudia Winkleman jokes that she gets mistaken for Fielding. Does it happen the other way round? “I did see a trailer for The Traitors out of the corner of my eye and go: ‘I swear I didn’t film that.’ But no, Claudia looks like a beautiful 60s model. I look like a melted candle. A wax model of Roy Orbison that’s been left too near the radiator. It’s flattering for me but harsh on her.”

Earlier this year, Fielding scored a streaming hit with The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin. After wrapping filming on Bake Off, he’s off to shoot the highwayman sitcom’s second series. Has he learned to ride a horse? “I can get on and off, that’s all I need. Luckily it’s a comedy, so I don’t need to look impressive. One thing I enjoyed was that it’s made by Apple, so there’s a bit of a budget. With The [Mighty] Boosh, it was always a financial struggle to bring your vision to life. If you do fantastical stuff, you’re forever going: ‘We want an underwater race with people riding porpoises but that’d be all the budget gone.’ We’d end up using bits of animation to work around it. With Apple, they go: ‘Yeah, we can do that. Fine, let’s blow up a carriage.’ I’m like: ‘What, really? It won’t be a model?’”

He has formed an unlikely double act with Hugh Bonneville, who plays Dick’s thief-catching nemesis. “You can never predict who you’ll have chemistry with. I’ve learned a lot from Hugh. He’s a really skilful comic actor. And Mark Heap, who plays my dad, has the best timing of anyone ever.” As well as starring, Fielding has a writing credit. In the pilot episode, Heap tells him: “You always were a bit weird. Drawing, coming up with funny ideas, wearing strange outfits.” Was that line autobiographical? “I did write that scene, yeah,” admits Fielding.

Slice of history … Fielding (left) with his Mighty Boosh co-star Julian Barratt Photograph: Martin Argles/The Guardian

He also drew the amusingly rubbish “Wanted” posters that appear in the show. “I’d send them to the director and he’d go: ‘No, not bad enough, do another, make it more ridiculous!’ I’d end up doing them left-handed in about 10 seconds.” There’s even a role for his brother Michael, who played Naboo in The Mighty Boosh: “I put my brother in everything I can. He’s not only very funny but it means I get to hang out with him all day.”

While we’re on the Boosh, was he aware that this year marks the 20th anniversary of the comedy troupe’s TV incarnation? “Does it? Oh wow. Me and Julian [Barratt, his comedy partner] were proud of everything the Boosh did – the live shows, radio series, TV show. We probably should have made a film. People wanted more and that would’ve been a nice way to finish. Julian’s the funniest person I’ve ever worked with, hands down.” Of today’s comedy crop, he rates James Acaster highly.

Would the duo ever reform? “What we had together was so special. Comedy double acts are such rare beasts, like unicorns. I’ll probably never meet anyone like that again but I loved it while it lasted. We stopped at the right time, before the quality dipped. The Boosh was all-consuming, like being in a band. It’s difficult to recreate that when you’re older. You don’t have the same drive and energy. As much as I’d love to get back together, I wouldn’t want to do something that wasn’t as good.”

Going from Boosh to Bake Off has been an unexpected journey. “When the Boosh ended, because it had been a cult hit, I wanted to make something more avant garde and experimental to satisfy my art school side. So I did [Channel 4 sketch series] Luxury Comedy. After that, I didn’t know what to do with myself, then Bake Off came along. It was a huge curveball for me. I love that it’s old-fashioned TV. Millions watch it weekly. People come up and talk to me about the latest episode. It feels like being part of British culture. There’s so much choice now, thousands of shows on streaming, but shows like Strictly, Gogglebox and Bake Off somehow still cut through.”

After dismal weather all series, the sun even came out for this year’s final. “It had been raining and storming but as soon as we went to announce the winner, sunshine started beaming down.” Fielding grins. “Bake Off’s like that. There’s something magical about it.”

Guardian, 14.09.2024

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Throwback

Male Triceratops Hybrid Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Capybara Hybrid Omega Reader

CW: Noncon, painful to pleasureable sex, mild violence (not towards reader), time travel, sexism, breeding, impregnation, pheromones, a/b/o, musk, scent marking, scent kink, sucking on dem big man titters, biting, bite marking, claiming, exceptionally huge dick, reader inflated with copious cum, knotting

Word Count: 1.9k

(Sometimes I get stuck on WIPs and have to do something new to write again. I wrote this in two days. Hope y'all like it! Please feed me with comments ❤️)

You were an omega demi-human. Part capybara, though the only evidence of this was your soft ears. More importantly, you were a quantum physicist. Currently, you were studying and recreating what you thought to be a time travel device. Your thoughts and theories had been dismissed entirely by your peers. It didn't help at all that you were an omega. Omegas working in academia were almost universally harassed, derided, and treated with condescension. As if their omega brains couldn't work at the same level as betas and alphas.

But even if it wasn't some type of device for traveling through time it was certainly alien to the time period from which it originated. It was made of advanced alloys and components that had been flattened, buried, and heavily corroded over time. The rock in which it was embedded in was older than any ancient society.

You had been working on manufacturing a functional copy of the artifact for years. Shmoozing up eccentric rich fucks, getting help from the exceedingly few colleagues who would help you in any way, slowly analyzing every detail and carefully bringing it all together. And at long last it was complete. The zenith of your career was at hand. And after some cautious testing that you conducted privately, it was ready to show to others.

You managed to get a spot at a small conference, though you had lied about the subject on which you would be speaking, and by the time it was your turn most of the audience had left. Not many academics cared what an omega had to say. Let alone one with a reputation for being a crackpot. But there were still enough of your fellow scientists and this would all be on video.

Instead of introducing the topic of your presentation, which would be a surefire way to lose what people were still watching, you opted for wheeling out your machine onto the stage and stepping in. With a deep breath, you booted it up and the entire contraption disappeared with a flash.

When you exited the machine there was an immediate problem. You stepped out of the machine into a forest with giant trees and flowers. You had only intended to go back a minute to when your presentation started but had made an error. You turned around to step back in but something pulled you backwards by your rear. You fell back and saw before you a humongous man charging at your time machine. He wore only a ragged fur loincloth and swung a massive club. He looked human except for his size, thick tail, scaled arms, and three horns on his head. One large horn from each temple and a small one extending from my nose.

You looked on in horror as he swung a mighty club down upon your only way back to your own time, repeatedly smashing it down until it resembled the exact shape of the artifact that had been excavated in your time. The relic that you had fashioned your own machine after. That wasn't what your attention was on, however. You were much more focused on getting away from the raging beast of a man who could flatten metal so easily.

Though with his task of destroying the frightening affront to nature that had appeared from nowhere now complete, he turned his attention to you. He shouted at you in a language you didn't understand, though his intent was clear. He had a massive erection sticking out from his loincloth and aggressively sniffing at your neck after picking you up with unexpected care.

With exertion of great willpower, the trike-man managed to not breed you silly right there in the forest. Your pheromones were driving him nearly feral. Modern-day omega pheromones were many times more potent than any prehistoric omega. They had evolved through millennia to pique the interest of choosy alphas despite the steep competition, an evolutionary arms race to try to snag an alpha.

That wasn't the only appealing trait. You were exotic, had cute little furry ears on your head, and you were so small, couldn't fight back and act all defiant like the omegas from his time.

You did struggle though. You had seen his arousal and could still smell it. Almost anything would be better than being violated in such a manner by such a hulking brute. He chuckled at your struggles, they were successful only in tiring you out. On the long way to his lair, between your squirming, kicking, and punching, you had gathered that his name was Orryg. At least you thought it was. He did not speak English, but he gestured at himself and seemed to be trying to give you his name.

He found your struggles kinda cute, mistaking them for an eagerness to escape his grasp and get on with taking his cock already. Omegas were so silly.

"Don't worry. Going to breed you plenty. Better in a secluded place."

You had no idea what he said, but his voice was deep and sounded angry so you could only assume it was something in annoyance at your struggles so you went limp. The giant man could snap you like a twig if he wanted to, best not to make him too upset. And honestly, even if you did escape, where the fuck would you go? What if Orryg wasn't the worst thing prowling about in the time period?

The walk went on for a while, with Orryg giving you an occasional lick or mumbling out some words you didn't have any hope of understanding. After a fair amount of time, Orryg stopped to sniff the air. Suddenly there was a roar from behind.

Orryg turned the two of you around just in time for him to take his club and smack it into a man who was every bit as huge as he was. Swatting him away easily despite being similar in size and build.

This one had sharp teeth and clawed fingers. He spat blood and growled. Orryg regarded him with a scowl.

"Udvik! You know this is trike territory!!"

"Omega smells good, not claimed yet. Thought I'd try..."

"Go before I smash you! This is MINE!"

Udvik spat again and hobbled off. But your suspicions had been confirmed, there were definitely things other than Orryg to be worried about in this time period. You were pretty shaken up seeing a half-dino man jumping at you and watching your captor fight him off. With those teeth it had clearly been no herbivore, it probably would have slaughtered you. Your fear must have been evident in your scent because Orryg held you tighter and nuzzled you.

"That battle got my blood flowing, really need to fuck you. Sorry if it scared you, I'll breed you all better. Almost home."

You continued to have zero idea what the hell he was saying. But you figured with the nuzzling it was something comforting. Though your ability to figure anything out was pretty absent by this point. Your brain was soup. All the anxiety and adrenaline and alpha pheromones had finally gotten to you. You looked at the ground in a stupor as he continued to carry you over his shoulder.

The next thing you were consciously aware of was him entering the cave with you and placing his club at the entrance. He laid down on a slab of stone covered in thick layers of soft furs and placed you on top of his muscled body. Before you had any chance to react he began administering attention to your sensitive neck. You squirmed involuntarily, writhing in pleasure on top of him from the neck stimulation alone.

If that wasn't enough, you were practically drowning in his musk. You had been since you entered his dwelling, the cave was saturated in it, but now he was forcing your head under his arm and making you drink it all in. Smearing your face with it and marking you with his smell. Slick was leaking out of your needy hole and pooling on his abs.

"I knew this would make you feel better."

The trance you were in was only partially broken once you felt the blunt head of his much too-large member press against your hole.

"W-wait! I don-"

But he had no idea what you were saying, and even if he did he knew you'd love his dick so much that you wouldn't protest for long. At this point, you were going to be his... no matter what.

You yelped in pain as he pressed into you, spreading you like none of your toys ever had. He swallowed your shout by pressing his mouth into yours, trying to distract you from the pain with a sloppy kiss before attending to your neck again. Despite every instinct telling him to just ram in and ravage you he restrained himself knowing that doing otherwise could seriously injure you.

"Ah!"

Even with his care it still hurt as he slowly eased his prick all the way into you, he rubbed the outline of his cock through your tummy. Lucky for you omegas were extremely stretchy and pliant.

Orryg slowly thrust back and forth inside you as he hungrily took in your scent. As more precum dribbled into you and mixed with your slick you took him easier and the pain slowly began to ebb away and was eventually replaced almost entirely by pleasure. You moaned softly into his chest as you bit at his pec and sucked his nipple while he kept digging his cock into you.

Your whole body shook and spasmed for a solid minute as you came more intensely than you ever had before. Orryg grunted as the feeling of your body convulsing around him brought him nearly to his climax. The trike man upped the pace just a bit, his heavy balls smacking into you before he started knotting inside you and pumping you full of his virile spunk. One small mercy was that his knot was only a bit thicker than the rest of his cock, not over two times as wide like a modern alpha.

The volume of semen was such that it made you look heavy with child, which you certainly would be after lovemaking like this.

Now that you had been well and truly fucked there was only one thing left for your brand new "husband" to do to really seal the deal. He, with great caution, buried his fangs into your neck to mark you permanently as his to everyone who might see you. Which would be more than you might expect. This was Orryg's outpost, he stayed there while on patrol, but he usually lived with his herd.

It would be a hard adjustment for you to make. You would constantly be under Orryg's watchful gaze or the guard of his tribemates when he went to go hunt or if he went to do things too dangerous for you to be with him. You'd never be alone. Even in the safety of the herd, Orryg would obsessively treat you like something fragile. You would have to adjust your diet to what they ate, mostly fruit and vegetables though they ate meat too, though nothing was familiar to you. You would have to slowly learn their language so you could eventually communicate with the new society that "adopted" you.

But it was okay if it took you a while to get settled, you had all the time in the world.

[diorcities]

running your teeth over jeno's sensitive tip and watching him roll his eyes makes you feel haughty. knowing you've got him at your complete mercy, a mess of grunts and involuntary spasms as your tongue curls and tease with the slit of his cock, savoring his salty precum on your palate while his heavy, dark gaze is fixed on you. teary eyes as a plaintive moan leaves his lips when you slide his penis deeper into your warm mouth, and your tongue presses against his shaft. it feels so full you have to close your eyes, drool at the corner of my mouth that you slurp when you take it out to pepper wet kisses up and down his length, “nice job, doll.”

numb legs and body in a sedative state as haechan eats you in front of the mirror. he wants to make you see how hauntingly breathtaking you look with your teary-doe eyes and haunted features every time he makes you feel this good. lips nibbling and sucking on your folds before his tongue attacks the swollen area of your clit. teasing it around and exerting pressure that causes your body to react in a spasm and scream. humming against your cunt and making a stream of pleasure run through you as he fiddles with the entrance, “eyes in the mirror, honey. you don't want to miss a bit.” fingers enter the scene when he pushes them inside your needy pussy.

hearing chenle's cocky laugh when you go nonverbal. mouth letting out breathy sounds and choked moans as he hits your sweet spot over and over again. pelvis hammering you into you, rocking his dick in and out with hard thrusts. beads of sweat forming on his chest pale from the effort he's been making for the last hour, prolonging the moment to nut and fucking you mercilessly, head in subspace by how good he's riling you, the painful knot of your belly growing and loosening every time you cum and squirt all over his cock. “fuuck, that's so hot, angel.”

messy make out with jisung as he buries his cock in your abused pussy. steady pace driving you crazy and clawing at the taut skin of his shoulder blades. choking out a hiss in your throat while he pounds you with mighty thrusts on the countertop of a nightclub bathroom after you grind on him and his growing bulge from the way you were dancing. “fuck, baby, fuck, i'm cuming.” ruined and wrinkled clothes, underwear thrown to the side because he needs you and your tight pussy. so eager and excited his pants are halfway down and your lipstick is now all smudged over his mouth.

stripping you of sleep by jaemin's cock sliding inside you in the middle of the night. arms holding you close to his chest as he inserts himself into you with smooth, fluid strokes. arching closer to him to go deeper, eyes rolling back and mouth spilling hoarse grunts when he speeds up. chest pressed hard against the mattress as he holds on to the headboard and his thrusts become wilder, mind in pure bliss. “does it feel good? fuck it does.” turned into a rag doll, forced down as he fucks you dumb, feeling the sedative and numb effect run through your entire body.

riding mark on the dining table. hands gripping the table in front of you hearing him sound so affected as you bob over his dick. squelching sounds coming from the motion followed by your moans and pants from getting tired. hands quickly going to assist you and pronouncing the thrusts more. harder and frenetic. whines and sobs forming in your throat because it's too much to handle, his movements becoming more eager and desperate, groping your waist as he let out a guttural growl, “you're doing so great, baby. keep up.”

dry humping with renjun, feeling his bulge grow as you rock your clothed pussy over him. the hardness of his erection pressing against your wet folds, soaking his underwear with your arousal, hands going down his length to run your nails up and down, making him moan loudly. “need to fuck you, yn, please.” thrusting his hips at you when he gets needy to put his dick inside your warm walls. both releasing a pleasurable exhale as he guides his tip inside with ease, digits going to your clit as you shove it completely in and start to ride him.

[chosopie]

THE ONLY ONE - RYOMEN SUKUNA

a/n: sub-kuna? :))

Ryomen would always boast, "I've had plenty back in my day but no one could ever compare to you." He always had to rub it in your face that he had tons of women to remind you how lucky you are to catch someone so great and mighty.

It annoyed you, but not because of the thought of him being with other women. It was because he kept saying it even though you knew it was all bullshit.

Ryomen has never been with a woman all his life. Sure, he was aware of the countless women who were fawning over him back then, but he never really considered having a woman in his life. He was occupied with other things.

"Why do you always have to bring that up?" You rolled your eyes.

He smirked, "Are you jealous?"

"No."

All that pride and cockiness quickly turns non-existent when your pussy greedily clamps onto his lengthy. You could feel every twitch and pulse inside you while you bounce on his dick. It was so clear to you how sensitive he was, especially during your first time with him.

"Since you seem to have sex so much back in your day, then why are you this sensitive, Ryo?"

"Shut up, brat." he groans, eyes half-lidded and cheeks flushed red. His hands were gripping your hips so tight it would leave bruises.

"Why won't you just admit it?" You suddenly stop moving.

"Talkative bitch. You are the only one I've had. Why does it matter so much?" He said, panting. "Now, will you get back to work and make me finish?"

[glitter-stained]

Batfam Lantern AU:

Some of my hcs for Lantern!batfam and how they came to be.

Jason: Fuck, I hate you guys so much... All high and mighty, pretending like you give a shit when you keep enforcing a system that's not fucking working...

Tim: hey what's that in the sky?

Dick: God you're such a fucking asshole, if you hate us so much why are you even here?

Jason: Well because some poor fucker has to make sure-

Duke: Jason, watch out!

Jason: *gets knocked out by the sheer extreme speed at which the violet ring flung itself at him.*

****

Tim: Hey Dick, how are you? We heard about that argument you had with Bruce, and reopening old wounds and everything...

Dick: That's sweet, but I'm doing great, don't worry! Punched a bunch of criminals, hung out with friends, now I feel amazing. Of course, if it gets me an excuse to hang out with my little brother...

Tim: Cool, because I'm already breaking into your apartment and I'm -woah, what the fuck is that?

Dick: Oh, you like my new suit?

Tim: what the fuck holy shit is that a red lantern ring? Can you take it off?

Dick: I mean, I think I'll die? It's fine, it's fine, totally cool. Probably someone will have an idea how to fix it if I need to. I'm perfectly calm!

***

Izzy: Hey Duke, you feeling good about physics?

Duke: Wait what's in physics?

Izzy: The test...? That's gonna count for like half our grade...?

Duke, who meant to study this weekend but spent it sleeping off opioids after Croc nearly entirely gnawed off his foot: Ah, right, the test. It's going to be fine! I've figured stuff out with worse odds.

Izzy: If you say so! Hey what's that hovering ominously around you?

Duke, absent-mindedly pocketing a blue ring: hold on a second, gotta dip, Dick is texting me he needs help. You'll never guess what stupid shit he's gotten himself into.

***

Damian: Jordan! I challenge you in combat for the right to your ring!

Hal: Eh, kid... You really need a green lantern ring?

Damian: I shall prove I am as worthy of this honour as the rest of my fami- will you quit gazing off? What are you staring at?

Hal: *wordlessly points at the indigo ring floating behind him*

Damian: oh.

[meguwumibear]

cant stop thinking about fake dating monoma....

"You're asking me out?" he laughs. Monoma laughs with his whole body. Mouth. Stomach. Hands. He uses them all as he insults you. "My how the mighty have fallen."

You roll your eyes with an exacerbated sigh. Motherfucker never did listen to much other than the sound of his own voice. Selective hearing. Shinsou tried to warn you. Monoma hears only what he wants to.

"I'm pretending to ask you out, dipshit," you clarify. "To boost our stats."

The plan seemed reasonable enough when you first hatched it. The public loves to stick their upturned noses into the private lives of heroes. The more a hero discloses, the higher their rank. Correlation and causation or whatever-the-fuck your PR team said. You need some press. You need to leak something juicy. Hence, fake dating Monoma. It's foolproof, isn't it? Now that you've actually pitched the thing to the smug bastard, you're not so sure.

"How's dating you gonna boost my stats exactly?" he asks.

"Well, for one I out rank you," you say, eager to throw that in his face. "Hanging around with someone in the top thirty is bound to increase your position. The top spots aren't determined solely by number of saves and take downs. It's a fucking popularity contest, and we're competing for a crown."

"Hmm, hmm, hmmmmm," Monoma hums as he theatrically taps his pointer finger against his chin in faux contemplation. God damn you picked the absolute worst person to fake date. Should've gone with the perverted grape guy instead. Little fucker probably would've jumped at the opportunity to call himself your boyfriend.

"I don't have all day, Monoma," you say. "You in or you out?"

He flashes you a disgustingly cheeky grin. The smile is all teeth and absent of any semblance of sincerity.

"Oh, I suppose I could be swayed," he relents. "If.......," a pregnant pause for dramatic effect. Typical, "the fake girlfriend package comes with real girlfriend privileges."

You raise an inquiring eyebrow at him. If the smarmy git wants sex he can ask for it like the grown ass man he is instead of alluding to it like some high school brat.

"I am of course referring to sexual intercourse," he oh-so helpfully clarifies. "Including, but not limited to-"

"Yeah, yeah," you say with a wave of your hand to shut him up. If you have to listen to the end of that sentence you might end up punting him off the roof. "Whatever you want."

Monoma's eyebrows disappear behind his poorly styled emo bangs that he never aged out of. "Whatever I want?" he parrots. "God, you're just as desperate as the rest of them without the numbers to back you up. Think the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight would result to such petty tricks?"

"Yes or no, Monoma," you huff, pressing at your temples to stem an impending tidal wave of a headache. "If you're above this maybe I'll ask the Great Explosion Murder God himself."

Monoma's eyes darken at that, despite the fact that he only has himself to blame for putting the idea in your head.

To his credit, Monoma collects himself quickly and shoves his phone in your hands.

"Number and addy," he says. "I'm staying with Kendo so my place is OOTQ for R-rated content. I'll swing by yours after my patrol tonight for a trial run. I'm guessing you can afford to live alone. based on your rank, number thirty."

"What fucking trial run?" you ask as you add your contact to his phone. You throw in a red heart emoji too, before replacing it with a peach, tongue, and water emoji instead. The pretend relationship needs to look real and there's no way in hell Monoma's the romantic type.

He smirks as he snatches his phone back from you.

"Figure I'm entitled to a seven day free trial before I actually subscribe. It's just good costumer service. Even that prick Bezo's knows it. Don't tell me the aspiring number one hero has less ethics than that capitalistic pig?"

"Oh for fuck's sake," you spit. "Fine. What the hell. Not like I want to be stuck fucking you if your dick game's mid. Swing by tonight. Bring your tiny cock and that bratty attitude of yours. Might be nice to fuck it out of you."

Monoma's grin is borderline predatory. His mouth is open wide enough to expose the sharp tips of his teeth again, and they look like they're just itching to bite. He leans over the table to whisper his next few words in your ear.

"My dick's not tiny," he says, before excusing himself. Then, as he turns to leave, "And I won't be the one getting the brat fucked out of them tonight. See you soon, love."

He disappears around the corner with one last wave of his hand, and you can't help but wonder what the actual fuck you've just gotten yourself into.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

This doesn’t get a title because I’m confused

Disclaimers: The only character I own is the reader insert!

Author’s Notes: I think I got possessed, I don’t even like Sam 😭 like in the slightest 😭

But pretend season 8ish Sam has season 2-3’s hair for the sake of that’s the season I’m on lol.

Icons by @gosling-girlx !! She’s a genius!

Anyway, all notes are appreciated!

Content/Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Minors do not interact, this is NOT for you.

This fic is extremely spicy, sort of can’t-stand-each-other sex. Reader’s AFAB & uses she/her pronouns, only physical description is of her being shorter than Sam. There’s oral (both m and f receiving) and unprotected piv which frankly only exists in the books- wrap it before you tap it!! Oh also they’re both pretty mean to each other… you’ll see.

Again, I think I got possessed when I made it-I sincerely can’t stand him- but hope you enjoy it!

**************************************************** Working with the Winchester Brothers is a gig like no other. Cas and I are more tagalongs in the operation these days, Cas demoted to resident healer and I to stay at home mom, apparently.

One accident (authors note: one possession & a year long recovery for a spinal injury retained from said possession) had apparently rendered me useless to the boys. It’s not all bad- I’m relatively close with the older one, Dean, since we’re both hoes for a good time and good movies/music. And before the accident, I was happy to kill evil sons-of-bitches with Dean any day of the week.

And of course, Castiel is a right sweetheart- showing him new human things is the sweetest experience in the whole wide world.

But you know what ruins the laughs and the nice moments? The younger brother. Sam “Little Shit” Winchester.

I don’t know how he found himself upon the moral pedestal he crafted for himself, but lord I want to remove his kneecaps and slap him with them. Little baby giraffe looking shit.

I don’t like the way he acts, plain and simple. Between the way that he treats Dean and the way that he talks so condescendingly to me- I’m about two seconds from starting a fight every time we’re in a room together for too long. He seems to feel the same way. It’s helpful in a hunt- both of us are smart enough to concentrate that anger towards our monster of the week instead of each other in the field- but now, when there’s no field to take the anger out on? Dean’s had to break up at least 3 almost-fights, and I’ve only been back on my feet for a couple months.

***

The boys looked especially pissy coming home today- they’d grumbled something about a “stupid fucking vampire bitch,” and went their separate ways, Sam to the med bay and Cas trailing Dean like a golden retriever.

Great. Looks like I’m on Douchebag Duty.

***

“What’s your problem?” Sam snaps as I tug the thread on his stitches a little too roughly.

“My problem, you dick? I’m the one that’s stitching you up right now, why don’t I just let you bleed out?” I retort, yanking on the surgical needle with the string attached to a particularly nasty cut on his upper arm. Cut’s an understatement- it’s really a bullet wound. I’m just too proud to have pity for the jackass.

“Yeah, your problem!”

I set down the needle at that, my fists clenched at my sides. “You’re a whiny little bitch who can’t sit still and shut the fuck up for two minutes! That’s my problem.”

“I think you’re a little too high and mighty there, princess,” he scowls, standing up to full height, presumably so that he can use his stature to literally look down at me.

“Yeah? Look who’s talking, Mr Morals,” I seethe, staring up at him. I snatch the needle, on my tiptoes, and hastily finish the stitching on his scar, while standing up.

“Out,” I spit as I cut the thread.

“No,” he retorts, glancing down at me through long lashes and stupidly overgrown bangs.

“What? Is five minutes away from your big head too much to ask?” my hands are on my hips. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of staring up at him, so I stare at whatever’s eye level. He’s wearing a bloodied white tank top, which is not doing much for the whole vibe we’ve got going on right now.

He bites his lower lip, still looking down through his annoyingly long lashes. And my dumb ass is attracted to it, apparently.

“Get. Out,” I say, anger laced in my words.

“No,” he says through clenched teeth. I start to turn away, as if giving up, before pulling a Dean Winchester and turning back around on my heel, punching him in the abdomen. He grunts, keeling over. “Ow!”

“You should’ve listened, you ass,” I say, looking down at him. He looks pathetic, his eyes gone wide and pretty in pain. I shouldn’t be into this, not one bit.

Keeled over, Sam is at eye level. Our gazes lock, his hazel eyes boring holes into mine, searching for something. I don’t dare waver, looking back at him with just as much intensity until he surprises me, leaning in and crashing his lips to mine. He roughly grabs my face, holding me close as he forces his tongue into my mouth, exploring. I hate how easily I give him access, I hate the way I let out a gasp against my will. By the time he pulls away I’m already leaning back in. He smirks, humoring me for one more kiss.

“How do you like me now?” he says cockily, lips plush and pink from the kisses, hazel eyes blown out by lust.

“I don’t,” I mutter, pushing him back so that he’s forced to sit on the med bay bed. His legs are spread wide, and of course I fit perfectly between them, much to my distaste. I kiss his jawline, using mostly my teeth so that it scratches as I go, especially once I start on his neck, biting and sucking dark marks everywhere I see fit. He’s into it, little breathy whimpers further fueling my unfortunate attraction to him.

“Take off your shirt,” I tell him, stepping back and smirking at how this time he leans into my touch instead of the other way around. He thoughtlessly pulls the hem of the ruined fabric over his head, throwing it to the side, exposing an obnoxiously fit physique and an anti possession tattoo. There’s little scars everywhere, and something deep down urges me to kiss every single one of them, but that can be later.

“Take off yours,” he tells me.

“Why?” I ask, trying to play smart.

“Cause if I have to be shirtless you do too,” he says.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Better think of a better retort next time, Winchester,” I say as I take off the oversized concert tee I had been wearing.

“Bra too,” he orders, cocking his head to the side as he looks me over.

“Who made you the boss?” I ask, already unclasping my bra.

“I did,” he says, far too cocksure.

“We’ll see about that,” I grin, letting the lacy fabric fall to the ground as I lean in to kiss his damnable hot mouth. This time I take control, taking pride in the little noises he makes.

“I’m gonna suck your dick,” I say crudely, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Go right on ahead,” and I can tell there was meant to be spite behind those words, but it quickly fades away into sighs as I start kissing down his pecs, his abs, lightly scratching anywhere I can find with my nails. I hate how hot the heat between my thighs is, but at this point, I can’t help it, especially as I sink to my knees, nose perfectly level with his crotch.

I take his belt into my hands, grazing over the obvious tent that lies underneath it. He throws his head back at that, biting back a curse.

“What’s the matter Sammy?” I tease.

“Shut up,” he grumble, words morphing into a proper moan as I graze over the tent again.

“Uh huh,” I agree, tugging off his leather belt and yanking down the zipper of his jeans.

“Boxers? I had taken you for a ‘Tighty Whities’ girl, Sammy,” I mused, doing my best to work him up even more.

“Sto-,” he starts, immediately losing his words as I free his cock from his confines, pulling his boxers down to his knees.

You know, just cause a guy’s a big guy doesn’t always mean that everything’s proportionate. Sam’s six foot five-ish, long and lanky with lean muscle. And naturally, because everything about him is meant to spite me, his dick also fits the physical bill. My mouth waters, and the only prospect that excites my overly-horny self more than having it in my mouth is having it in my slick soaked pussy. And I will, if I have anything to say about it.

“Oh Sammy, you’re a big boy, huh,” I taunt, running a hand up and down his shaft slowly. He moans in agreement, no more fight left in him. It’s too easy.

I let go of it, ignoring the bead of pre cum leaking down as I move to kiss his thighs, grazing my teeth on them like I did on his neck. He seems to like it, legs moving in towards my mouth. Finally I move my mouth towards where he obviously wants me most, rubbing the bead over his tip with my thumb. I’m a little wary about taking the whole thing, but I’m sure as hell going to try.

I start simple, kitten lips around the base, licking a long stripe up the underside before wrapping my lips around the head, and he moans, a little too loudly. I brace my hands on his thighs before taking a deep breath through my nose and forcing myself down far enough that my nose is touching neatly trimmed hair. Thankfully my gag reflex is still gone-it’s been a minute- as I hold him there for a moment, before starting to bob my head up and down, testing the waters. He whimpers and whines, and it’s pathetic, and I’m far too into it, unable to do much else than keep up my ministrations.

One of his big hands find the back of my head, fingers weaving into my hair. I don’t think he does so with intent of forcing me to move, but the idea is so hot that I lock eyes with him with my mouth on his cock.

“What? You want me to fuck your mouth?” he asks, panting. And once he says it out loud I get impossibly wetter, and I moan yes, unable to nod at all with him buried as far as he’ll go.

“Damn, you’re a slut,” he grins, and I moan in agreement before he starts moving my head slowly. Forward and back, forward and back, before I lock eyes with him and he gets the hint to take it harder, hips starting to thrust meeting my throat as his hands push. I just keep sucking, doing my best not to choke as involuntary tears leak out. But it doesn’t hurt, not at all. If anything I’m just doing all I can to not start rubbing on my own sensitive spots.

Before I know it his whimpers get louder and his whines get needier, and he grits out “I- I’m going to-“

So I release him with a pop, taking a hand and rubbing up and down his length furiously before he bursts. Once he does, with the most pathetic whimper yet, I get my mouth right back on him, taking every drop of his hot release down my throat. When he’s done I stay there, opening his mouth so he can see that there’s nothing there.

“God, you’re such a slut,” he mutters, echoing what he said before as he catches his breath and pulls me up by the hair- gently.

I shrug cockily, moving back as he stands up.

“Strip and have a seat,” he lazily demands as he puts his perfect cock away.

I roll my eyes but comply, taking off my remaining clothes so that I’m left in all my glory.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that?” he compliments, a moment of tenderness as he crowds me against the bed so that I’ll take a seat. I blush, letting him hoist me up so that my ass is on the edge of the dinghy bed. “My turn,” he grumbles, voice low and hot against the column of my neck. He’s even rougher than I was, nipping at every square inch of skin that he meets, sucking dark marks down the side of my neck and over the tops of my breasts. I’m like a bitch in heat, responding to every touch in ways I can’t control- pornographic moans, leaning into his touch. He’s pulling on my hair to give himself more access, and I’m starting to worry that I’m soaking the bed. His mouth continues to work wonders, especially as he travels southwards, playing with my breasts.

He’s mean, outright biting the one and pinching the other, and it’s just what I need. I tangle my hands into his annoyingly long hair and tugging, not missing the way he moans into my chest.

Finally, finally, he gets down on his knees. He rests his chin on the bed, breath heavy on my heat. The sight of his head pillowed on my thighs as he looks up at me with those puppy dog, blown out eyes is enough to get me to come on the spot.

“This all f’me, princess?” he asks roughly, collecting some of the gratuitous wetness on two long, thick fingers.

“N-no,” I stammer, clutching his hair tighter. He bites back his moan in favor of a smug grin.

“N-no,” he mocks, turning to the side to bite the inside of my thigh, and I whine. “Uh huh, that’s what I thought.” His nose is eye level with my clit, and the only warning I get before he dives into my pussy is a small smirk that meets his hazel eyes.

“Fuck!”

He moans in between my thighs, setting my entire body on fire. I try to wiggle away from him, but it only takes one big, strong hand to hold my hips in place as he fucks his tongue into me, his nose rubbing on my puffy clit. It’s wet and it’s gross, but so, so hot.

He’s a little too good, knowing all the buttons to press that leave me tracking wetness all over his face, before taking two fingers and roughly pushing them into my core, giving me no time to adjust. They’re thick and long, and when he makes the come hither motion I know I’m fucked, doing everything I can not to gasp his name.

“S-s-oh my god,” I cry as he plunges his fingers all the way down to the knuckle every time, reaching deeper and deeper and rubbing on my g-spot. He’s too busy sucking on my clit to say anything, his attention overstimulating.

He adds a third finger, and that, combined with him tracing patterns on my sensitive bud, sends me straight over the edge with a an unintelligible cry.

Of course the bastard doesn’t stop, not until I’m physically shaking from the overstimulation, legs quivering, and on the brink of a second release.

He removes himself from my heat, laying his cheek on the inside of my thigh, looking up at me smugly.

“Good, huh?” he knows it was.

“Fuck you,” I mutter, voice weak.

“That’s what I’m getting to, princess. So impatient,” he taunts, standing up to full height again. Sam haphazardly wipes the slick off of his face with his forearm, not really caring how much he removes. He kicks off his shoes and socks before taking off his slacks and boxers in one go, revealing that gorgeous cock again. He stands before me, looking like some kinda statue of physical perfection. I have to physically close my jaw looking at him.

“Like what you see, princess?”

I stick out my tongue and blow a raspberry.

“Real mature, sweetheart,” he rolls his eyes. “You have a condom?”

I shake my head. “Don’t need one, I’m on the pill and I have morning after. Want you to fuck me and fill me,” I tell him honestly.

“God you’re a slut and you’re freaky? I’d never have guessed,” he mused, stepping between my thighs. I assume he’s clean as well since he doesn’t really… get out much.

“Yeah, that’s cause you’re not the brightest,” I tell him, scooting as close to the edge as I can without falling.

“Uh huh,” he says sarcastically, before picking me up and slamming my shoulder into a nearby wall, yet gently resting my back against it. Gentle with my injury, wow. Wouldn’t have expected it. I gasp, surprised by the sudden motion.

“Payback for the gut punch,” he explains.

“Oh yeah? I’ll punch you again if you don’t fuck me,” I say, a mean edge to my voice.

“Mkay,” he says, obviously not swaying either way as he aligns his tip with my entrance.

“Fuck me,” I order through a gasp, unable to wait anymore.

“Careful what you wish for there, princess,” he warns, before sheathing himself in me in one go.

Look, I can get laid whenever I want, especially back when I was on duty as a hunter. I’m no stranger to sex, and I have a decently high sex drive. If I can’t get some, then I always have backup- toys and vibrators, you name it.

But Sam? His dick was big in my mouth, but in my pussy? I feel like I’ve been split in two, my mouth is dropped in an o. But it feels so, so good.

“Move,” I demand after a few moments of adjusting.

“Say my name,” he cocks his head, pushing impossibly deeper so that he’s practically touching my cervix.

“Sammy,” I say with as much sass as I can muster, my voice high from the added pressure. I know he hates the nickname, it makes him feel like a baby. Because he is one.

“Nuh uh, princess. Say my name,” the pad of his thumb flits over my clit.

“Unh- Sam!” I moan, unable to stop myself.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Now ask me to fuck you. Nicely.”

“No.”

“Guess I’ll be on my way then,” he starts pulling out.

“No!” I whine.

“Ask nicely.”

“Sam, fuck me please?” I ask with as much sweetness and doe eyes as possible for me.

“You really are sweet when you’re horny,” he remarks, pulling back, before setting a brutal pace that has me raking my nails across his back and moaning his stupid name. He’s pounding into me with all of his might, sweat sheening on his brow.

It’s so hard that I can barely get any words out, and I hate it, but it just feels too good.

And of course, Sammy has enough words for the both of us.

“Fucking you dumb, huh? Got such a big attitude until I’m in you, just needed this dick,” he says, laughing meanly as I involuntarily clench at his words.

“What? You like me being mean to you? You get wet every time we fight?” a particularly hard set of thrusts accompanies each of the words in his third rhetorical question. I moan, not even sure of the answer. Probably? Maybe? Gah.

“Look at you, taking it like a good slut. You’re so tight and wet, and it’s all f’me,” his raspy voice starts slurring with lust. He brings one of his hands between us, finding my swollen clit and rutting on it, tracing patterns just as he did before with his tongue.

“S-Sam, it’s too much-,” I cry, unable to handle the overstimulation.

“Good,” he grins wickedly, before upping the ante both in thrusts and in rutting, unraveling me into a mess in his arms. I cry his name, helpless as I come down for the second time.

“So soon?” he tuts, not slowing his pace.

“Sh-shut up- ah-,” is all I can say as he gets impossibly rougher, chasing his own release.

“Gotta finish the job, princess,” he stutters, before growing more and more erratic. He’s got me on edge again as he does so, but mercifully comes before I can. I feel his hot release in me, filling me up just a little too full with his dick that he hasn’t yet pulled out.

Eventually he wordlessly puts me down, fingers plugging our mixed release in me. I can’t even complain- him keeping me full is unfortunately kinda hot.

“So…” he starts, looking down at me.

“Get out,” I interrupt.

“No,” he says, not moving.

This is going to be a long afternoon.

****************************************************

“Did you guys finally get into a bout?” Dean asks as we walk (re: stumble) out of the med bay and into the kitchen where he and Cas are sitting playing Uno, Bon Jovi playing in the background. “Oh- oh.”

Yeah, it’s pretty obvious the fight we got into. There’s no hiding it, even if we had tidied up our hair or faces- there’s scratches and bruises everywhere. Whoops.

“Are you guys in need of healing?” Cas asks innocently as Sam and I sit down a chair apart.

“No, Cas… these are, uh, special bruises. The fun kind. And they’re everywhere, apparently… damn, Sammy.” Dean comments as he surveys his brother and I. Sam coughs, and I reach over to punch him from my seat away. He grunts, and then we all go quiet.

“So… all in favor of never talking about this?” I ask after an uncomfortably long uncomfortable silence.

“Aye,” say the brothers in unison. Cas also agrees after Dean elbows him. “Fantastic.”

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 7 - Ozzie's

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

It's a date! (But is it really?)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 8 | pt. 9

Word count: 5,212

Warnings: you ask blitz to not be a dick and what does he do? yeah he's a bit of a dick. a big reveal abt reader's past (will be explored more in depth later), terrible just awful communication skills.

Alright, however much blood you got on yourself, business today was kind of pretty fucking awesome. 

The four of you walk through the portal, all still riding high on the adrenaline rush the day’s kills provided you. Blitzø’s the first to set foot back into the office, throwing his head back and brandishing his new axe around. “Woo! That was a fuckton of lumberjacks!” 

There were eleven of them, to be exact.

Moxxie walks in right after him, looking a little too excited as he held up a chainsaw, still on and rumbling.

Millie’s next, covered in more blood than anyone else, as usual- clearly in a great mood, going as far as biting the wood handle of the axe she was holding in half.  “Ahh! I’m still so jazzed up!” 

You walk in last, examining the huge new knife you got for yourself, pleased. Nothing like putting down five huge-ass dudes on your own and getting a cool new knife for your collection to get you in a good mood. 

Moxxie discards the chainsaw into the portal, and Loona closes it off. “Well, you better stay jazzed up, babe,” he tells Millie, shooting finger guns at her. “‘Cause guess where I’m taking you tonight?”

“Don’t you dare finish a filthy pun in my presence, Moxxie! Besides, drinks are on me tonight! Let’s hit up the new drive down the street,” Blitzø suggests, excited.

Moxxie looks down to the floor, then back at him. “Actually, sir, it’s our one year marriage anniversary, so I’m taking Millie to Ozzie’s, all the way down in the Lust Ring!” He announces, proud of himself. 

Millie’s eyes immediately light up, and she gasps in excitement at the revelation. “Ozzie’s? No way! That place is always booked.”

Yeah, you should know that. In fact, you already knew Moxxie was taking her there, too- he’d approached you the previous week, asking if you could do him a ‘big favor’. You didn’t know what to expect of this supposed big favor, but when he asked if you could maybe call Ozzie personally and arrange him and Millie a reservation for their anniversary, you let out a laugh.

“Oh, that’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Of course I can, Mox, are you kidding?”

“That’s awesome!” He’d hugged you tight. “Thank you so, so much, y/n!”

You smile, pleased with Millie’s reaction. You knew she’d love it. Moxxie had mentioned he’d tell her you’d helped, but you’d told him not to, leaving all the credit for him. He deserved it. 

He sends you a thankful glance when Millie squeaks out his name and quite literally jumps on him, kissing him all over. The scene is so sweet it’s almost gross. 

“Ugh, can you two not?” Blitzø complains.

Moxxie’s out of breath when he pulls away, looking a little high-headed after the distraction. “I’m sorry, sir. Maybe another time!” 

“Oh, it’s fine! I- I can come with the two of  you, help you celebrate your boring-as-fuck-monogamy.”

There’s no way he just seriously suggested that. “What? Dude. No.”

Moxxie matches your tone. “Yeah. No.The reservation is for us.”

“Uh-huh,” Blitzø agrees, nodding, as if that changes absolutely nothing to him. Did he genuinely not get the hint or is he playing dumb at this point?

“Just. Us. Millie and I.”

“Uh-huh,” he repeats, still nodding as if he doesn’t see the issue. 

“Without you there. Explicitly without you there.”

He completely disregards Moxxie’s words. “I’ll wear something nice. It’s a big deal after all.” Ah, got it. Playing dumb.

Moxxie’s left eye twitches at his attitude, but, in turn, he just turns around, walking towards the door. “You want a ride or not?” He turns back around to ask you, and you try to shoot Moxxie a reassuring look that’s meant to say you’ll get some sense through his skull before you follow him out. “See you lovebugs later!”

You start scolding him as soon as you get to the parking lot. “Could you be any more inconvenient?”

“The fuck do you mean?” 

“The fuck do I mean? They don’t want you there, Blitz. It’s their anniversary. Whatever fantasies you have about them don’t make you a part of their relationship, you realize that, don’t you?” The two of you get to the van, and he unlocks the doors so you can get in before he says anything in return.

“Fuck you, I made that couple happen, bitch. I deserve to be part of this ‘anniversary dinner’. And you do too, I know there ain’t no way Moxxie got that reservation without your help.”

“Yeah and that one-hundred percent does not give me any right to crash their date. Don’t you fucking go to Ozzie’s tonight. You hear me?”

“Ohh keep talking dirty.”

“I’m so serious right now.”

Blitzø scoffs at your threatening tone. “Don’t remember you being the boss of me.”

“I am telling you, as a friend, that you’re being inconvenient. They’ll get pissed at you and they’ll be right to.”

“Yeah well I don’t fucking care.”

“Come on Blitz, just give them a break. I’ll even go with you to that place you wanted to go!” You try. 

“Really?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. And very far from Millie and Mox so they can enjoy their night out alone,” you make sure to point out.

“Fine. Whatever.”

Blitzø drops you off at your apartment so you can get ready with a yell of ‘be quick we don’t have all night!’ as he drives off, going home himself to shower and change too before he’s back to pick you up. 

“If I didn’t know you I’d think you’re dressing to impress me here,” he raises an eyebrow suggestively as he gives you a very exaggerated once-over.

“Yeah in your dreams maybe,” you retort immediately, used to his comments by now, as you get into the passenger seat.

“Oh my dreams about you don’t have any clothes involved.”

“Gross.”

He shrugs. “Ready?”

“Sure. What’s the place called again?”

“Uuuuhh, don’t worry about it. We’re going somewhere new.”

You notice he’s extra chatty during the ride, talking your ear off and turning up the radio so the two of you can sing the songs out. You realize why he was going out of his way to distract you when suddenly you take a look out the window and recognize the neighborhood. 

He’s taken you to the Lust Ring, and it’s not very hard to imagine why when he parks just a couple blocks from Ozzie’s. You feel disappointed, and honestly a little naive, to have thought he’d take you to a fun night out instead of just doing whatever he wanted to do. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? This is the one place I said, repeatedly, that we couldn’t go!”

“Oh, boo-hoo, so I’m taking you out on a nice fucking fancy-ass dinner, what a terrible fucking thing to do!”

“Except you’re not taking me out, you just don’t know your fucking boundaries and you wanna spend your sorry-ass night spying on Millie and Moxxie.”

“Eh. Potato, potato.”

“You pronounced it the exact same.”

He shrugs. 

“We’re leaving.”

“What? No!”

“Well I am. And you don’t have a reservation,” you point out, trying to make it clear he’s not getting in. Did he only bring you out with him in the hopes you’d manage to get him a table by pulling some strings? “And you can’t get in without a partner so sucks to be you.”

“Well I’m not taking you anywhere,” he crosses his arms over his chest, matter-of-factly.

“‘Course you’re fucking not. We were supposed to just have some fun tonight. I can’t believe this. You’re a fucking prick, you know that, right?” You let your frustration spill out in your words, and you pull your phone out to see if you can find a ride on Reaper, not in the mood to be out anymore and desperately wanting to get back home at this point.

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re a whiny bitch but I don’t keep telling you that, do I?”

You send him a dirty look, sitting on the curb as you wait for the app to find you a car, and he fucks off to the alleyway behind you to do Satan-knows-what. After a while, still down on your luck with the ride, you’re startled when a portal is opened only a couple feet in front of you, and it takes you a couple seconds to register the fact that it’s Stolas who walks out of it. 

“Stolas?”

“Stolaaass!” Blitzø calls out, as if already expecting him. Was he already expecting him? Is this what you thought it was- you telling him you wouldn’t get into Ozzie’s with him and him just calling Stolas up, simple as ever, to fulfill that role instead?

“What are you doing here?” You ask the prince, not really meaning to sound rude, but it comes out demanding of an answer regardless, and he tilts his head to the side, as if confused by the fact that you apparently didn’t know he’d be coming.

“Wow. Outfit’s a little overkill, don’t ya think?” Blitzø tells him, and you resist the urge to pettily flick at his forehead at the lack of common sense. Why the fuck would you say that?

Stolas looks down to the floor, embarrassed. “Did you… not know I was coming, y/n?”

“No. Did Blitzø call you here?”

“Yes, I- I assumed-” He looks at Blitzø, now referring to the comment about his outfit as well. “I wanted to look nicer for you. This is our first real date, after all… right?” he explains himself, motioning between the three of you.

“A date?” You whip your head around to look at Blitzø. That’s what he told Stolas this was?

“Surprise! We’re having a date!”

“Blitz I swear to Satan, this is so out of pocket-”

“Is something not right, y/n?” Stolas asks, and it completely disarms you. He seems so genuinely excited about this ‘date’that you can’t get yourself to ruin it for him by revealing what only you knew- that what he thought was a date was just a selfish ploy for Blitzø to spy on Millie and Moxxie for whatever fucking reason he had.

And so you find yourself reassuring him. “No. Not at all.”

“Ya still wanna leave now?” Blitzø whispers, all cocky and annoying and- fuck, he can just be so stubborn it’s insufferable sometimes.You grit your teeth but say nothing in return, and the three of you walk up to the stairs by the entrance. 

You don’t recognize the incubus who greets you. Must be new. He eyes the three of you up and down, as if trying to gather how the fuck this whole thing happened. “Y’all three together?” He asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Stolas tells him. 

“Alrightt, that’s fucking hot! Y’all got a reservation?”

Before you can even think of telling him to talk to Ozzie, Stolas speaks up again. “Do we need one?” He asks, glaring at the man, as if challenging him to say no. The man gulps before opening a smile and bowing at him. “No! Uh, shit, my apologies, Your Highness. Right this way.”

You feel the ever-growing urge to facepalm as hard as you possibly can the very second you enter the lounge, because Blitzø immediately starts sneaking around the place like he’s a character in some low-budget spy movie. 

Stolas looks around the place, mesmerized. “Oh, my! Oh, no! No, but also yes!” He’s been there countless times (you should know), but only then do you realize he’s never stayed or even visited for matters that weren’t aligned with his royal duties. He’s stupid rich and he’s never dined at Ozzie’s?

Oh.

He’s only ever been with that wife of his before you and Blitzø happened. And his own marriage was merely another one of his royal duties. And- oh, fuck. Was this his first ever date? Shit.

You pull Blitzø down to whisper to him as you walk to your table. “Blitz, you’re gonna be fucking nice tonight, alright?”

“Hey I’m always a fucking delight!”

“I’m serious. I think he’s never been on a date before.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“Look he’s clearly excited to be here, please don’t be a dick, okay?”

“You calling me that for free?”

“The outfit comment was not cool.”

“Oh you guys are so fucking sensitive.” He dismisses your words, sitting down on the chair that had been arranged for him, a couple books placed on the seat so his height could be aligned properly with the round table’s.

Stolas is beaming as soon as the three of you sit down. “Oh, how romantic is this? I have never stayed here longer than I needed to. It’s so charming!”

“Yeah, it sounded like- I just thought we’d have a blast here,” Blitzø tells him, barely present in the conversation as he pulls out his goddamn fucking binoculars out of his pocket, surely trying to find out where Millie and Moxxie were seated. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s lovely, right? And it’s where I met both of you! Isn’t that so nice, Blitz?” You kick him under the table, and he shoots you a dirty glare before turning back around. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a real romantic- oh gotcha!”

Stolas tilts his head to the side, trying to figure out what is happening. “Uh, Blitz, what are you looking at?”

“I’m looking at nothing. How about that?” So much for not being a dick. Luckily, a server approaches the table just then, averting Stolas’ attention from Blitzø. 

“So, can I get you three off?” She takes a long pause before ‘correcting’ herself. “I mean, start you three off with some drinks?” It actually was normal taught practice for the ‘slip-ups’ to happen- you should know, you trained countless servers during your time there. It still makes Stolas blush out of embarrassment, caught off-guard by it.

“Yes! Um, perhaps some… wine, to share?” He glances at you, and you smile at him, nodding in agreement. “Blitz?” 

“What?”

“Would you like some wine, too?”

“Yeah why not?”

“Do you prefer red or white? Or perhaps some champagne?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Blitzø replies dryly, very clearly barely paying any attention to what was said to him as he didn’t even bother turning around to face the two of you.

“Uh- I- uh-”

“What if we-” you begin, trying to help Stolas not freak out.

“Perhaps we should order all three! Ha! Why not?” He suggests, and it sort of sounds like he is sort of freaking out, but you don’t argue. 

“Yeah that sounds good.”

“So! How was the day at I.M.P.?” Stolas tries. 

“Oh? Uh, it was good, I guess. We killed a bunch of weirdos. She can tell you about it,” Blitzø tells him, this time sparing one single glance back and pointing vaguely at you. How thoughtful.

“Oh?”

“Uh, business was pretty good today. What he meant with killing a bunch of weirdos is that we had more targets than usual, which is good. But I’m sure you don’t wanna hear about us killing people, right?”

“No! It sounds like fun!” It definitely didn’t look like he thought so, but rather that he was desperately trying to build a connection. One that Blitzø currently didn’t seem to give a flying fuck about. “Uh, how did you kill them?”

The question at least seemed to pique Blitzø’s interest, as he actually turns around and puts down the binoculars to answer it. “How? I mean, there was a lot of ‘em, so… bullets?”

“Right! Right. So… what made you decide to plan a date after all this time?”

Shit. “Uuuuuuhhh…” Blitzø scratches the back of his head, trying to think of what to say. Fuck, don’t be a dick, don’t be a dick, don’t-

Thankfully, for all of you, you’re sure, he doesn’t get to finish whatever he was about to try and say, as the lights dim and Fizzarolli’s voice sounds through the lounge. “Ladies and gentlemen! I see some sexy faces around here tonight.” He descends down the pole right in the middle of the stage, and you notice his greeting routine sounds different. It’s a weird feeling to see so much change since you left. “Welcome, welcome to Ozzie’s, Lust Ring’s number one place for all kinds of sick, twisted fantasies, put on display for all you sleaze and sleazettes, the gem joint of Asmodeus himself. Come on, give him some love!”

“Did he just say Asmodeus?” Stolas questions out loud.

“He likes to make an appearance sometimes,” you explain, but, internally, it made you nervous. You did not need Ozzie to see you on a date tonight.

Stolas nods, and Blitzø lets out a groan. “Oh, no fucking way. Not him!” He hides his face behind the menu that had been placed in front of him, and he’s still never told you what happened between him and Fizz, but that has to be a bit dramatic, doesn't it? 

“I am the one and only Fizzarolli.” The clown continues, pulling up a Loo Loo Land flyer with his robotic version, ‘Robo Fizz’, on it. “Some of you might recognize this dashing clown face from my numerous replicas across the rings of Hell, gloriously designed by the big man himself, and uh,” he traces his hand up his own robotic arm in a rather suggestive way, “ribbed for your pleasure tonight. We have a great lineup for you tonight: Verosika Mayday, Wet Dream, and The Squirters!” 

The lights shine on them, and suddenly you understand Blitzø’s need to hide. “Shit, she’s here?”

“Do you know her?” Stolas asks you, and you don’t reply.

“But as everyone’s warming up, I got a funny one for y’all!” Fizz keeps on. “Did any of you hear about the batshittery that happened at Loo Loo Land?” He laughs. “Oh yeah, I’ll tell you what, I’d sure love to shake the hand of the crazy son of a bitch who decided to burn down that off-brand shithole, and then slap a fat subpoena in it, ‘cause I’m very much looking to sue. That robo-me made us more money entertaining those kids than the ones we sell to get you freaks off, if you know what I mean.”

Someone in the lounge stands up from their seat, waving their hand around. “I know! I know what you mean! I have four of ‘em!” They announce, loud and proud, and you realize their date is one of those. It’s freaky enough for you to know security’s sure to keep an eye on them for the rest of the night to make sure they stay far away from Fizzarolli.

“So! Without wasting more time! Our little opening act is a fresh one, coming at us from a little imp from the Wrath Ring. Give it up for… Moxxie! With no creative stage name whatsoever.”

Moxxie stands up, taking his guitar with him, and kisses Millie before taking Fizzarolli’s place on the stage. That he hadn’t told you about, and knowing it was probably because he wanted to keep that moment to themselves makes you feel shitty about being there. He taps the mic before speaking. “Hello, everyone. Um. Hi. Thank you for letting me be here. It’s an honor to play.” Someone yells at him to hurry up, and he looks a bit nervous at it before he keeps on. “This song is for my beautiful wife, a surprise for our first anniversary. I love you, Millie.”

I love you More than the brimstone loves the fire, more than beelze loves her bub, more than a maggot loves gangrenous stubs You make my spirit sing Yeah, you make me glad I live in Hell Our love is a story sweet to tell Yeah, you cast a special Satanic spell over my heart Love is a journey we decided to start Yeah, I hope we’ll never, ever be apart I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I-

Shit, Moxxie. If he had told you about this, you would have warned him Ozzie’s was not the right place to perform a love song. But he didn’t, and so… “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,”, Ozzie and Fizz sang along, making their way onto the stage, very clearly mocking and laughing at him. 

Who’s singing love songs in my lustful lounge?

So Ozzie was performing tonight, huh? Must be in a good mood. 

Ozzie’s ain’t the place for sentimental sounds!

What’d you expect from a proprietor like us?

Your demon host, Asmodeus, the embodiment of lust…

Give me a thrust! Show me some lust! From the groin to the bust, in desire we trust, in the House of Asmodeus

Trumpet! Gah!

Little imp, you came here to sing your serenade Perform your feelings in the velvety stage Well, we got a saying that’s popular in these parts

‘Only little bitches strum the strings of their hearts’

You wanna hang around this lustful town? Ditch the lovey-dovey before we knock you around

How hypocritical.

In here we sing about wants and desires

Depravity, savagery, loins hotter than fire!

So give me a thrust Show me some lust From the groin to the bust Little imp, you just must In the House of Asmodeus Come on, sing us a song! Make sure the subject is getting it on Make it graphic and tactfully long

Make sure to rhyme ‘thong’ and ‘schlong’!

Go ahead, the mic’s on!

After a good while of tossing Moxxie around as Ozzie and Fizz sang, they set the mic in front of him once again. He takes a deep breath before strumming his guitar and giving it a try.

I want to 

Yeah, what do you want? Butt stuff? Piss play? Bondage?

Make gentle love to you

Oh, Moxxie. 

Ugh, what a limp-dick imp, you’re really killing the vibe Get a load of this dweeb and his unsatisfied bride!

Blitzø stands up from his seat. Why the fuck is he standing up from his seat? 

“Hey now, I’ve watched those two pork many times, and, honestly, they make missionary look relatively exciting!” 

You should have known he’d feel the need to try and defend them in some way, but this was really, really not a good idea. If you didn’t want any of your friends to see you there up until then, now he’d managed to basically call out for their attention. 

“What? Blitz!” Moxxie yells out, as if he can’t believe he’s actually there. His eyes find you too, and he furrows his eyebrows together. You feel ashamed that you ended up there, and even more so that his moment was getting ruined in so many ways.

Fizzarolli opens a grin. “Is that Blitzo? So you’re showing your face?”

Hey, everybody!  This guy’s a total disgrace Some nerve you got to comment on a relationship Last I checked, your love life is a pile of shit!

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Verosika stands up, the lights immediately panning to her, and she joins in. 

Oh, Blitzo? I used to date him 

“Oh, Verosika, you’re here.”

I’d stroke him, I’d fellate him But when it was my turn He did no reciprocating  A selfish imp in the sheets  And just as bad on the streets A reckless, heart-breaking freak

You silently pray to Lucifer for her to not see you, or just not mention you, or-

“Oh am I interrupting your date, y/n?” She spits out. 

I should have known it I should have guessed you’re not above it  How long left till they’re abandoned? Do they know they’re not your standard?  The prince would better watch out Just get too close and he’s out Give it some time, she’ll flake out

You look down at your hands over your lap and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Stolas looks between you and Blitzø, trying to assimilate what just happened. “Did the both of you date her?”

Who’s that at your table? Is your date a demon prince? Stolas, is that you?

Are you sleeping with an imp?

My dark lord, how the mighty do fall! You used to have a smoking wife, a kid, you had it all! I hope you didn’t give it up so they could help you get it up…

Stolas hides his face behind the menu, not unlike Blitzø had done earlier, like he’s… embarrassed to be called out for being on a date with the two of you. It feels like a gut punch, to come down to the realization that, yeah, of course he’s embarrassed, he’s a prince, for Lucifer’s sake. 

Your eyes feel like they’re burning, and you have to hold back tears from streaming down your face. 

You sold your life for a thrust! Now that’s the spirit of Lust Grab your groin or a bust You better get your hair mussed Pretend you don’t see that crust Hump ‘till your junk turns to dust In the House of Asmode-

You stand up in preoccupation for Millie when she simply knocks Fizzarolli down to the ground. 

“Hey!” Ozzie exclaims, helping Fizz get up. You see the rage in his eyes- Millie was crazy to have done that- and he looks back at you. The worry in your expression and the furious shaking of your head, wordlessly asking him not to do anything, are accepted, and Millie is left unharmed purely for the sake of you. 

“I think you were tryin’ to sing somethin’ for me, Mox.”

“Yeah, I was.”

I love us I love us just the way we are Don’t have to pretend to like to do things we don’t I’ve always got you around to laugh at my stupid jokes I’ll never take you for granted I’ll always give you my best If you can offer the same thing we’ll handle the rest ‘Cause I love you ‘Cause I love you

Blitzø looks undoubtedly hurt and undeniably uncomfortable and, shit, it was very much warranted. You felt the exact same, ashamed of getting called out by Verosika, hurt by having Ozzie of all people put you all on blast, feeling stupid for feeling hurt by Stolas so very clearly looking embarrassed to be seen on a date with you. 

Stolas looks worried, but doesn’t get to form any words before Blitzø speaks up. “You know what, this was a mistake, alright? Let’s just- let’s just leave.”

For the first time the entire night, you agree with him. “Yeah. We should go.”

“Oh. Right. Of course,” Stolas agrees, and the three of you get up, making your way to the exit. You didn’t even get to try the fucking wine. 

You glance back at Ozzie on your way out, and he raises his eyebrows in concern when his eyes meet yours. You know that face. He only just realized he hurt you with what he did, and you know he’ll let you be for the rest of the night, but you’re sure to expect him to show up at your place tomorrow to apologize. 

You also take a glance at Millie and Moxxie, still on the stage, and mouth an ‘I’m sorry’ to them before exiting the place. 

The drive to Stolas’ place is quiet and uncomfortable and it makes holding yourself back from crying much, much harder. You’re not even sure why Stolas is getting a ride, as he’d portaled himself to Ozzie’s and could very much just portal himself back home, but it’s not like you’re gonna bring that up. 

Much too tall for the I.M.P. van, he’s crammed in the backseat, and struggles a little before managing to get himself out of the car. 

Before leaving, he leans on the passenger’s window, facing you and Blitzø and nervously trying to get himself to say something. “Thank you, for… inviting me out tonight.” Blitzø turns away to face his other side and you keep your eyes glued to the windshield, both unable to look him in the eye. “Despite everything that’s happened, I… I enjoyed spending time with you.”

“Yeah,” is all Blitzø says, and you simply nod.

“You know, I have some more wine in the house. Octavia’s with her mother this weekend, so we could…”

“I’m not fucking you tonight, okay? I’m really just… I’m really not in the mood, alright?” He nudges you with his elbow, and you swear you see him wipe down a tear. “If you wanna take this one go ahead.”

“I-”

“We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle?”

For the first time since leaving Ozzie’s, you manage to properly look at Stolas. Was he serious? Would he genuinely be okay with that after what just happened? Could he genuinely be okay to be in your presence without sex involved? 

“Stolas, don’t act like what we have is anything but you wanting us to fuck you, okay?” 

“Blitz-“

“No. You too. Are you actually falling for the shit he says? Fucking watch a movie and cuddle? You know exactly what he wants from us. He just says what he thinks he has to to get in our pants. I thought you weren’t that stupid.” 

You scoff at his words and get out of his car silently, as you can’t believe he just said that to you.

“What, you’re not coming?” 

Tears are threatening to roll down your face again, and it makes you angry. “Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?”

“Fine. Stay with him then. Congrats to the fucking happy couple!” 

With that lovely yell, he takes off. 

“Are you alright, dearest? You can come in if you-“ Stolas reaches for you, but you can’t help but back off, not allowing him to touch you. He lets his hand fall back to his side. 

“Could you just send me back to Ozzie’s? Looks like I don’t have a ride anymore.”

“Are you sure you want to be there? What he did was-“

“I- I’ll talk to him. They won’t poke fun at you because of us again, Your Highness. No need to worry.”

He grimaces at your words, and you’re fully aware why.  You haven’t called him that in a long time. In fact, you realize you did it to be cruel. To hurt him. 

To hurt yourself into remembering your place in relation to him. You almost want him to argue with you. To understand what you meant and tell you he doesn’t look down on you, that he doesn’t feel ashamed. 

And yet he only accepts what you say with a nod.  “Good night, y/n.” 

Maybe Blitzø isn’t wrong.

You nod once instead of saying it back- you don't trust your voice to come out.

He seems to want to say something else but refrains from doing so, only waving his hand to cast the spell you requested him to. In a mere second you materialize back at Ozzie’s, but not in the lounge, thankfully- in the waiting room in front of his office. 

You break down crying the very moment you gain bearing of your surroundings. 

A/N sorry for the shitty lyrics i added to house of asmodeus it was sadly necessary lmaoooo

[toranesu]

STRESS RELIEF ( M¡NE ) ♡

sub bottom solomon + dom top male reader | cw. masochist solomon, spanking, choking, degradation, anal sex, dumbification, overstimulation, possessive reader, he calls reader sir, takes place in nightbringer

:: solomon's UR+ is cumming to me fr

"Solomon.. miss you," you hug him from behind. You had just arrived back at Cocytus Hall and instantly went towards Solomon. He lifted his head from his studies and looked at you with a smile, "Tired?"

"Mm," you merely hummed in response burying your face in the crook of Solomon's neck, inhaling sharply. "Didn't realize dealing with the brothers who're acting like that would drive me crazy," you mumble under your breath, Solomon gently patting your head in return.

Your grip on his waist tightens, kissing his neck softly. "Sorry, Sol. Mind if I get some of the stress out?"

Always agreeing to your requests, Solomon was ruined. Face shoved down into the matress, tears streaming on his face as he moans and bucks his hips up to yours. He'd lost count of how many times he's came, how red his ass was from how you slapped it repeatedly and your merciless thrusts.

You've reduced him to the point all he can get out is loud moans and slurred groans of your name.

"Fuck, nothing but my little slut, aren't you, Sol? Oh Great Mighty Sorcerer Solomon, face down and ass up before me is always such a pleasant sight, y'know?" you groan at the way he tightens up at your words, clenching around your cock and moaning helplessly at your words, letting out slurrs of 'yes..yes yes..'

You lean down to kiss his naked back, kissing along his spine as you continue to mercilessly thrust into him. His back arches and he lets out a long drawn moan, throwing his head back.

"Thank Diavolo we don't have neighbors. You're always such a loud slut. But I bet you'd like it if someone were to find out, huh? Mighty Sorcerer Solomon, at the mercy of his puny little apprentice. It should humiliate you," you grip his hair tightly, pulling it back towards you and whispering in his ear, "..But no. You like it. You want the whole world to know how much of a slutty whore you are, don't you, Sol?"

He moans at your words, no words escaping his mouth. You shove him back down on the matress, grabbing his arms and pinning them on his back, using them as a leverage to continue fucking him roughly.

You give him a hard spank on the ass before groaning under your breath, "Maybe I should let some other lowly demons fuck you dumb to their full wish. Then everyone would know how much of a whore you really are, huh Sol?"

Solomon sobs loudly and clenches tightly around your cock, "Y-yes.. yes," he whimpers, making you grimace and slap the mound of flesh on his ass again, dropping your hold on his arms and gripping on his hair again, fucking into him at a rougher pace.

"Well too bad for you. You're mine, Solomon. Don't ever wish for someone else to do you like this, because no one can. I'm the only one for you, Sol," you place your hands on his neck, pressing and cutting his breath circulation, earning a choked moan from him.

The way you called him yours, only yours— the way you're so possessive over him, drives him mad. That feeling itself was enough to send him to the edge, cumming all over the bedsheets once again, clenching his walls around your dick.

"Hnngh s-sirr....." he lets out a slurred moan, grinding his hips back onto yours, trembling from the ecstasy of yet another orgasm. "I'm yours.. o-only yours.. please.. use me."

And fuck, was that hot. He'd do anything for you. Use him, break him, claim him as yours, he'll take it like a good little toy.

Your good little sorcerer ♡

[sweetiecutie]

GOD KRUGER IS GREAT I'd fucking LOVE to see you write for him

A/n: I genuinely think that the only reason Krueger is not popular among CoD fandom is simply bc he’s canonically under 180 cm💀💀

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, dark! Krueger I guess, obsession, nasty😜

Another a/n: also it’s extremely OOC, but what can you do abt that, huh? Let the girl be and share her delusional fantasies on her silly lil blog😩🙄

Okay, so starting off strong - Sebastian Krueger is an absolute, pathetic, needy simp for you. You so much as throw a fleeting gaze in his general direction? He’s there by your side, like an obedient dog that he is for you, happy to do whatever just to please you, to make your day a bit better and easier.

Yes, Sebastian is a terrifying killing machine and a literal war criminal, he doesn’t hesitate for a single second to blow enemy’s brains out or pitilessly cut them open with his knife, letting their guts spill onto the dirt under his feet. But with you? Krueger turns into a literal pookie-bear, all soft and lovey-dovey the very moment he so much as senses your presence (it’s a secret how he does it). And no, he is not ashamed nor scared to show his feral side to you; moreover, he’s pretty sure that this way he can fully let you see just how capable he is, that he can protect his little sweetheart no matter the circumstances, that he is a perfect match for such a frail and helpless thing as you (even though you are fully capable yourself)

Krueger is definitely bigger than you - if not in height, then definitely in weight and muscle volume; and fuck yes would he take advantage of this. He’d corner you somewhere relatively private, pressing you against the wall, his burly body not allowing you a smallest opportunity to slip from within his grasp. Mighty hips are pressed flush against yours, and so is his painfully hard dick. Krueger will hump your leg shamelessly, like a needy fucking dog; he’ll moan and groan and whimper against your reddened ear, telling you just how good it feels, how good you smell, how much you make him wanna cum.

And it’s not like you can do anything about it. You’ll ask Krueger to leave you alone - he’ll distance himself slightly (very slightly), allowing you some personal space, but then you’ll notice your stuff going missing - your tees, lip balms, panties ofc. And even if you confront Sebastian he’d just shrug it off, acting as if he doesn’t have a slightest clue what you are talking about.

You may even try to run but of boy, I don’t think that’ll end well. Being a skilled soldier that Krueger is, having excellent tracking skills, it’ll take a few weeks max for him to get to you, even if you flee to the other end of the world, to some small shithole of a town. And the moment Sebastian actually finds you? God knows what’ll happen, so better don’t push your luck.

So all you have to do is to just allow Krueger love onto you and be his kleine Mausi <3

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

BNHA

something else to pretend by beeclaws

Bakugou apologies. Somehow, this makes things worse.

Retrograde by redrobin1989

Retrograde /ˈretrəˌɡrād/ adjective: directed or moving backwards noun: a degenerate person. verb: go back in position or time.

Seasoned pro heroes Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki are mentally transported back to their younger bodies due to a quirk. All they have to do is wait for the quirk to wear off for everything to return to normal. But sometimes the journey is worse than the destination.

DC

dick move by konan_konan

Part 1 of batfam twitter shenanigans

dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・52min guys what if dick grayson IS batman. that’s why he thought he was getting cancelled. it all makes sense. 784K Views | 142 Retweets | 52 Quote Tweets | 63.9K Likes

tason jodd ☑ @jsntdd・49min ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo asshole last week you said i was batman 461K Views | 88 Retweets | 16 Quote Tweets | 18.3K Likes

or: a civilian overhears a conversation between batman and nightwing. twitter does what it always does: makes things worse

the rules of playing make believe by hoebiwan

“We can’t squat in some dead guy’s mansion, Damian,” Tim says. Damian, in the midst of packing all their meager belongings into grocery sacks, ignores him.

“Why not?” Jason demands. “It’s not like he’s using it. Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

Or: Homeless!Reverse Robins squat in Wayne Manor.

Nine Worlds

with a winged heart by celebros

"Cliopher. Cliopher. Cliopher." I blink. It's Conju, standing with his hands on my shoulders, and I go to answer him and realize that I am already speaking, babbling, and Franzel is behind him, wringing his hands and looking near tears. I try to focus on what I'm saying, but it's like a stream, light and splashing past me, too quick to hold, not enough to catch, somehow, somehow – A few weeks before the start of the viceroyship ceremonies, Kip finds himself the unwitting recipient of a truth serum.

Original Work

That Frightful Nest Inside the Throat by whereveryouroam

Part 1 of That Dreadful Clockwork Beats Below

Living horses were in vogue among the high and mighty of the great families, but Peter’s new owners had sent proud motorhorses, clicking over in a blur of cogs and wheels, to draw the carriage. It was a very nice carriage - plush and cushioned. He couldn’t help but think this was sinister. Masters didn’t transport slaves in finery. At least, not slaves like him.

Peter’s spent years under the cruelty of masters who want the Monster inside him to become their weapon. He is quite sure that Lord and Lady Arken will be no different.

Percy Jackson

Through rose-colored glasses (the past is perfect) by Mo13

Part 1 of Rose-colored glasses verse

Luke/Percy were in a non-consensual 'relationship' when Percy was twelve. Percy deals with the aftermath, while constantly convincing himself that his relationship with Luke was fine (IT WAS NOT). Mostly cooperates with canon up to the end of Heroes of Olympus.

The Goblin Emperor

A Complete Education by bomberqueen17

Preparing for the Emperor's wedding, everyone has some things they need to learn about.

Emperor's Best Friend by imaginary_golux

Ino and Mireän decide their cousin Maia needs a special present for his twentieth birthday.

a burning coal of kindness by egelantier for Morgan (duckwhatduck)

When Maia is kidnapped by a faction hoping to halt the construction of Wisdom Bridge, Beshelar, gravely injured, is by his side. It might just be their undoing.

The Stairs Beneath the Heart by hermitknut

Part 1 of Keystone

The reign of Varenechibal IV is over; the reign of Edrehasivar VII has begun. The transition, however, is anything but smooth, as the Alcethmeret household navigates grief and worry as well as adapting to the new emperor.

A series of missing scenes and unseen moments centering around the Alcethmeret household over the course of the first few months of Maia's reign.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Male Yandere Human-like Golem x Gender Neutral Human Reader (CW: Noncon, huge dick, golem man, magic, fatal violence towards bandits, spit used as lube, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.8k (Sorry this took forever, was originally going to be a drabble and then kinda got away from me, hope you all enjoy huge dick golem man.)

The small town that you lived in, Somnheim, had been victim to a swathe of horrible luck. Raided by bandits, packs of beasts killing livestock, and enemy soldiers scavenging what they could. Finally the town had enough and sent for a practitioner of the magic arts to aid them in the defense of their village.

This was you.

They didn’t have much but they offered a home and food for your services. You figured you could help them and have a quiet place to conduct your research away from the prying eyes of the council, who liked to hold newer mages under their thumb. It would also just be something nice you could do for your fellow humans, and these folks clearly needed the help.

You didn’t want to stay in this place forever though, so your solution would have to be one that would last long after you were gone.

Given your expertise in summoning and animating the logical choice was a good, old fashioned, golem. A pentagram, some select incense, clay flesh molded to a slate skeleton and imbued with an amethyst heart carrying an artificial soul, some runes carved in, and a scroll inserted that would have him follow his purpose and give him personality.

Then just add in a spell that turned the humanoid clay man into something more human so as not to frighten the villagers too badly and make him able to experience a near human existence.

The ritual was a complete success. Of course it was. You were you after all, young but talented and more importantly utterly dedicated to your craft.

Somnheim now had a mighty protector. An artificial man over 9 feet tall, with huge bulging muscles, shaggy brown hair, stoic brown eyes that gave nothing away, and glowing green runes on his arms and legs. The spell that made him human-like was more than just visual, it gave him nearly all the functions of a human male, he’d be as durable and strong as the hardest metal, never age, and of course he was certainly infertile.

Not one for creative names, you named him Slate.

Eventually bandits came by and decided they would stock up in Somnheim before going on to bigger and better loot.

They did not live to regret that decision.

Slate simply rolled a massive boulder down the hill they approached from and flattened all but a couple. Those he took care of quickly with magically precise throws of average sized stones.

Over the months any threat he couldn’t flatten with a boulder or smack with a stone he would pop open with his mighty fists.

By the end of his first year as the village’s guardian he was beloved by every single townsperson. Even the tiny children, who would climb on him and put flowers in his shaggy hair as he smiled and watched, had no fear of him.

You had enjoyed your time there, but eventually it was time for a change of scenery. You wanted to do more field research and you had saved enough money up with side projects to be able to fund a trip to the other side of the country near The Great Forest.

The villagers were grateful and sad to see you go, but they were much more interested in Slate than you.

But when you packed your bags to leave behind your wattle and daub dwelling once and for all you found yourself blocked by Slate.

He uttered one word in that deep, almost monotone, voice of his.

“No.”

“What do you mean no? I have to leave.” You tried to squeeze past him but he was not having it.

“I must protect the village… Your presence here makes the village safer… I might need repairs… or reinforcements… And you also tasked me with keeping you safe…”

You fudged the wording. You, breather of life into stone, weaver of clay, and creator of souls, messed up the wording.

He picked you up like a box of luggage and sat you on a chair in your makeshift study before going over to the heaviest bookshelf, picking it up, and placing it in front of the only door so you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll move it when I need to leave… then I will put a rock outside to keep you here…”

And that became your life. A literal prisoner in your own home.

Your magical abilities were useless in this situation, you were not a battlemage that could explode a wall, you couldn’t teleport, you bent earth.

Of course you tried to tunnel your way out by making a hole under your bed, but Slate had walked in and caught you red handed. He had confiscated and locked away all your magical supplies and texts unless you needed them to repair him you were not getting them back.

Slate was tentative enough of your physical needs, bringing you food and water and taking you outside like some sort of pet for sunlight, fresh air, and exercise. You had tried to run away but of course he had inhuman speed. And the villagers refused to help. What if Slate refused to save them if they did that?

It was a fair concern, he was made to protect the village and not villagers, he may even see them as a threat if they assisted you. You were on your own.

Though you were healthy enough physically your mental condition was deteriorating rapidly. How could you not be? Being trapped in the same building, even with trips outside, was awful. The villagers only looked at you with pity if they looked at you at all, and no one would even talk to you anymore.

It got to the point where you barely eat, refused to go outside, and spent all your time laying in bed.

Slate was failing the magical directives that governed his personality and behavior. You were clearly not safe, he was convinced that you would die if this continued, and honestly you likely would… eventually…

But the golem was not incapable of learning. He observed the other humans to find out what he could add to your life to bring you back to your usual self.

One night, when he was sitting in front of the house watching the humans passing by and holding hands, he came to the conclusion that humans had families, they lived together in their dwellings and they loved each other. They coupled together and mated.

Up until this point Slate had only been directed by simple emotion and the unyielding parchment that had imbued him with his goals. But now his task demanded something more of him, it demanded a much more complex emotion. The magic in him allowed this evolution, and now he was much more dangerous because he loved you. But it wasn’t just love he felt for the first time, it was lust.

Slate’s expression became one of someone thinking about the one who they adored infinitely, an expression of a man thinking about the person he wanted to have writhing in pleasure beneath him, even his normally green runes and brown eyes took on an amorous pink glow.

When you heard the boulder blocking the door shift and then heard the bookshelf take its place as what was blocking your way out as Slate came lumbering in with his heavy steps you didn’t even glance up.

Not until he stood in front of you and you noticed his strange pink glow replacing his green one did you stir.

You sat up in bed and when you saw the strange way his normally near emotionless eyes were staring at you, and glowing, you scooted away.

“I know what you need now! I am so sorry for not realizing sooner…” He said in a surprisingly soothing tone, a stark departure from his normally deep monotone.

“What do yo-”

Your words were forgotten as he took off his shirt and pants revealing a sweaty body and a frighteningly large cock.

“You need a partner to be happy, like the other humans, and you need to mate!”

He sounded very eager.

“No! Uh… I don’t need to… mate. I need to lea-” he put a large finger over your lips and shushed you before gripping your pants and peeling them and your underwear away from you carefully.

There was no dissuading him from his chosen course of action, he would make you happy and keep you safe no matter what!

It’s what you needed.

Slate leaned forward and spit all over your hole, thoroughly lubing it with his spit, before pressing his big cock into your hole.

It was so large that you let out a whimper of pain at first, but he was somehow knowledgeable enough about sex to know he needed to let you adjust to the size rather than just ramming himself in.

You gasped and writhed but he held you still with his massive hands running up and down your sides as he slowly pulled you down on his prick.

Slate was in complete heaven, he had never really known much pleasure of any kind, let alone the type that came with burying his cock in someone he was now completely obsessed with.

He had no idea his dick could be used for this at all, but now that he did he would certainly be doing this everyday, maybe even a couple times a day! The perfect blend of heat and softness was amazing.

As he began to thrust slowly, with a blissed out expression as he stared up at nothing with drool coming out of his mouth, you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure as his cock caressed your depths perfectly.

Hearing your breathy moans snapped him back to reality. You were finally happy again~

The treatment was working! That settled it, he would do this every single day no matter what!

Carefully gripping your sides a bit more firmly he moved your entire body back and forth on his cock. You couldn’t help it, your whole body twitched with the force of a massive orgasm. The sensation of your body spasming around his previously virgin dick caused him to slam in deep and cum hard.

He pulled you close, holding your head into his muscular chest as he panted, his dick still firmly impaling your limp body. You hadn’t been eating much and this serious fucking had taken a lot out of you.

Slate cleaned the two of you up, bathing you gently before taking advantage of your compliant state by spoon feeding you some dinner he had brought from a town person.

Mating with you made you so pleasured and too tired to resist him when he took care of you, he almost couldn’t wait until you had enough energy to do it again, his cock strained in his pants with anticipation.

[lexsssu]

Pheromones (Zhongli)

TAGS: Zhongli/Dragoness!Reader, heat sex, smut, drabble Ao3 ver.

“MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.MATE.”

The former Geo Archon could do nothing as you barrelled into him with the ferocity and strength of a Mitachurl, pinning him onto the meager cot spread out on the cold, hard ground. 

A blizzard had trapped the both of you within a cave, the harsh climate of the Dragonspine itself coupled by the foul weather made going outside a death wish. It also didn’t help that you were already feeling quite under the weather even before your little excursion together, but you persisted regardless of his worries. What was once just a feverish hue on your skin and a slightly higher than normal body temperature only seemed to worsen throughout the journey until finally, that blasted blizzard had you both holed up within a small cave.

Just as he was about to lay you down onto the makeshift cot so he can properly tend to you, you suddenly snapped your eyes open, liquid-gold orbs darkening as they met with his. Zhongli only had enough time to swallow the lump that had inadvertently formed in his throat before you lunged at him.

“Dearest, is now...really the right...time for such...such activities?” He could barely speak a proper sentence, not when you so enthusiastically bounced upon his cock with such wanton fervor. 

Silvery scales decorated and glittered on the sides of your cheeks, slithering downwards to your neck and leaving spatters upon the rest of your body. A pair of ivory horns also protruded from your temples, its thick base giving way to a more slender body that slightly curves near the tips. The molten gold orbs that stared down at him with unbridled lust, ecstasy, and undisguised yearning was just simply too intoxicating.

And you were simply too beautiful for him to deny. Even more so when you lose yourself within the throes of passion, allowing your draconic instincts to take over and do all the talking necessary without any real need for words.

A pleased rumble escaped his lips as his own amber orbs darkened as you fucked yourself on the heavy girth of his cock. You were unwittingly releasing so much pheromones into the air as your heat-addled brain sought for nothing but his dick and his knot, pushing his own instincts into overdrive. The dark-haired man felt the ripple of power that overtook and spread all over his body, dark scales similarly littering the broad expanse of his body and a pair of mighty horns sprouted on his head.

You released a loud purr when you smelt your mate’s scent becoming even more potent, more heady as he too allowed himself to give into the feral blood that ran through your veins. Your purring is soon replaced by a loud yelp and whimper where, upon completing his transformation, Zhongli didn’t just manifest additional features like you, but the rest of his body went through some...additional changes as well.

A smirk crawled its way upon his handsome face as he watched with great pleasure at the way your eyes practically rolled back as your greedy pussy was suddenly stuffed to the brim thanks to the similar transformation his own cock underwent.

Thankfully, the blizzard outside was powerful enough to mask the sounds of what could only be two animals mating.

Aether and his other companion could only stare at the couple once they’ve reunited after the snowstorm. A satisfied smile not unlike that of a Cheshire cat decorated the geo-user’s face, whereas a dark flush sat upon your own as you refused to meet anyone’s gaze. 

[eccentricallygothic]

Dating Joel Miller

Pairing: Bf!Joel Miller | Reader.

Warning(s): Age gap (reader is in their 20's), allusions to mature activities, mild d/s dynamics, fluff, cg!Joel, Daddy kink, begging, making out. I'll be safe and say minors do not interact.  

Setting: TLOU 2.

He's definitely an experience. 

Single-handedly rocks your world in more ways than one. 

So, so laid-back it's fucking sexy. 

Definitely tames the brat out of you. 

What he says goes because he's older and knows better. 

Or?

You live to learn he was right. 

So smug when that happens.

Not very vocal about his feelings but cares for you so much. 

The littlest of things that can easily be missed, Joel makes a point of remembering.  

Won't ever openly admit it though. 

Tough love in an endearing way.

From your favorite snacks to your preferred clothing, to the kinds of flowers or things you like to collect to getting you food whenever he does for himself and picking out the condiments you dislike to being mindful of the drink you prefer with it, he's got it all covered. 

A total ass when it comes to training and you best believe he doesn't hold back on it. After everything that's happened, he wants you to be prepared for anything and everything. 

Only rolls his eyes and shakes his head when you're being the kid that you are with Ellie and Co. 

Simply snorts when you all tease him for being a geezer. 

Because he knows that all it takes him is one certain look if it goes too far. 

And you are whimpering into your place like a puppy yanked by their leash. 

Besides, you can act all high and mighty as you want, Joel knows that the one who will have you all whiny, grabby and mushy underneath them will be him.

Whenever he wants. 

You're down so bad for him, oh my God. 

He knows it, and that's exactly why he doesn't get riled up when foolish little boys try their luck on you. 

Well, that is, not usually.

Loves to tease you and make you beg after you've acted out all day. 

"Oh, but I thought I was an old man who 'just didn't get' y'all, huh baby?" And you're a quivering, panting mess with your limbs tangled in his. 

Great. Fucking. Kisser.

Hot, sloppy, wet, sense melting, passionate kisses while his calloused hands roam all over you, occasionally squeezing the parts that cause you to make such a huge mess in your pants that he tuts when he feels it through your clothes. 

"Noooo, Daddy…" You're literally aching. 

"Tell me what you want, baby. Say it for Daddy and he will give it to ya" you are a writhing mess as your hips grind against his and you hump yourself on one of his thighs. 

"Please, Daddy… Need you so bad, Daddy… Please use me~" it depends on his mood how he treats you in bed though. 

Some days he could be the most tender lover with gentle caresses, featherlight touches, cotton-soft pecks and passionate love making. 

Other days include him pressing your face down into the mattress as his huge cock hammers in and out of your leaking slit, rough bites littering your skin as you struggle to breathe through the animalistic fucking. 

Nothing gets you to cum harder than when he sometimes wraps his hand around your throat, features stern with all that's taking him not to just obliterate you. 

Some days though, he likes to combine the two styles. 

Eats you out like a starved wolf.

But can take his sweet time with that as well.

Lets out the deepest, most throaty grunts when you suck his dick.

Has a couple ways of reprimanding you if you're too clumsy and neglectful with yourself. 

No one else is allowed to give you any shit though. 

Isn't overbearingly domineering at all.

He knows you're young and dumb and will need to make some of your own mistakes to learn.

Always there for you with open arms to console you when you do.

Your silly little friend group definitely knows when to make themselves gone when Joel decides that he's had enough of sharing you for the day and wants you all for himself. 

It's always subtle; like a gentle caress on your shoulder or a soft nudge in your side. Sometimes it can be a claiming hand on your lap. And then everyone knows that it's time to scurry out. 

Doesn't always play voluntarily. 

But when he does, it's for you. 

Especially if there's a storm, or you're extra sensitive from playtime, or just emotional in general. Sometimes he's just feeling affectionate.

Will usually deny it like his life depends on it but there are certain songs, a specific range of lyrics and a peculiar sort of tunes that he plays only for you. 

Every now and then you crawl into his lap after an intimate session and ask him to teach you how to play a song or two. 

Then hours pass with you two just huddled into each other, strumming melodies to life as your naked back presses into his strong chest, your ass fitting perfectly in the crook of his abdomen as he rests his chin on your head and revels in your scent.

Sometimes he slowly cockwarms you in that position as well. 

Cannot sleep without you. 

He wasn't always like this.

But there's no going back now. 

Joel is sure to keep tossing and turning until you're locked up close in his arms. 

Your safety and well-being is his top priority.

Always. 

.

Playing TLOU again and boy am I needy for this grizzly bear. Also I haven't watched the show but I love Pedro so yeah. Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated <3