#this sold a few months back! sorry!

[somelazyassartist]

.

[highvern]

Freak Like Me

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+)

warnings: daddy kink (sigh), dom/brat tamer cheol, brat reader, heavy degradation (from both), dirty talk, spitting, choking, spanking, manhandling, ass play, minor breeding kink, name calling

Length: ~4k

Note: he haunts me day and night, when will i know peace from this man. thank you @wongyuuu and @onlyhuis for beta-ing! also pls dont request any daddy kink fics! this was a one off and i dont see myself writing more

Summary: You’re always happy to indulge in your boyfriend’s fantasies. That doesn’t mean he won’t have to work for it though. And that's just the way Seungcheol likes it.

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked

Six years of dating means most nights in bed are spent watching movies on the too large flatscreen your boyfriend insisted on buying until you fall asleep. Not that the appeal of having Seungcheol anyway you wanted wore away but the passion of your earlier days burned into content to spend evenings curled in each others’ arms after a day of exhaustion. 

You’re already greasy from lotion, the worn shirt speckled with holes sticking to your skin still warm from a blister shower. Snuggled between fresh sheets with a candle burning on the side table and a good book, you’re the pinnacle of content.

Seungcheol is visible just over the edge of the page, lent against the doorframe. Sometimes he’s like this; watching you like he can’t believe he managed to get you to say yes to the first date, let alone everything else that’s come after.  You meet his gaze with an arched brow.

He’s quieter than usual when he flops over your body to snuggle into the curve of your shoulder. Marking the page, you toss aside your book in favor of squeezing him into a hug.

“Everything okay?” You ask.

A fleet of kisses across the stretched neckline of your shirt is Seungcheol’s only response.

You indulge when he finds your mouth. Lips parted around one of his, the soft point of a tongue sneaking between your teeth. 

He crawls over you easily enough, one thigh resting between the dip of yours as he hums. “Can we try something?”

Nipples hard from some light petting, you kiss along Seungcheol’s jaw with a faint nod to acknowledge his request. 

“Could you–”

“I’m not letting you put your dick in my ass. I have too much shit to do tomorrow to be limping around.”

Seungcheol leans back to pin you with round eyes round and pouty lips. “I thought you liked it?”

“Yeah, I do.” You sigh, circling your arms around his shoulders. “When I have a few days' notice.”

“That wasn’t what I was asking anyway but good to know.”

“Okay, so what do you want then, your majesty?”

Dropping back into the safety of your throat, your boyfriend mumbles something intelligible.

“Come again?” You snicker from the vibrations. “Sorry, I don’t speak pout.”

“Call me daddy.”

Oh.

It’s not an unexpected request. You’ve dated for six years, you know your boyfriend like the back of your hand. He likes the thrill of telling you what to do, watching you get off on it too. But sometimes it feels like he’s holding back. As if there’s another level he hasn’t fully allowed himself to explore yet. The proof rests in the months-long push and pull at the beginning of your relationship where you all but humped his leg and he still would keep his hands more or less PG-13. The secret to getting Seungcheol to admit his deep dark secrets is to convince him they get you hot too.

“Hmmmm.” You pretend to think, already sold on the idea the second he opened his mouth. But you can’t let him know you’re that whipped despite the fact Seungcheol knows too well how easy you are for him. “What’s in it for me?”

Seungcheol pins you under his mouth, tracing promises across your lips, teeth, and tongue until everything goes fuzzy at the edges. 

He drops to your jaw, tracing the same pattern across your pulse until you melt. “God, you’re hot.”

Seungcheol talks a big game but a few complements, tinted with candor from the promise of pleasure, makes him blush like he hasn’t fucked you every way imaginable. 

“Don’t make it too easy for me,” he goads into your stomach, dipping beneath his shirt to nip across your hips. 

“Then get up here, I’ve got shit to talk.”

The heat of his lap greets your ass first, next is the rough palms of his hands slipping under your shorts and finding you went to bed without panties. Again.

“You’ll kill me,” Seungcheol grunts into your mouth with a drive off his hips. 

Hot and hard, you settle your weight back into his cock teasingly. “Death by pussy? Sexy.”

A hand circles your jaw, holding you in place while he takes what he wants. Every gasp and sigh, nipping across your lower lip until you melt into his chest and pull off his shirt. 

Your nails rake down his front, red lines raising to claim him. Memories of college, when you’d bite your mark into his neck for the sole purpose of parading around parties, broadcasting who he belonged to without shame, flare across your brain. But now you’re older and a hickey the size of a golf ball would look less than professional in front of his clients. The idea still gets you hot enough to try for one on your boyfriend’s stomach, right where the vein that leads straight to his dick.

Seungcheol lets you melt down his front. Bracketed between thick thighs, you might as well be queen of the world as you tongue across the waistband of his pants; the bulge of his arousal digging across your breasts.

A hand on his cock loosens his resolve. You might just get away with not playing the mind games he wants tonight but your curiosity is piqued enough to remind him. 

“Daddy,” you gasp in mock surprise. “You’re so hard for me.”

You barely manage to lap at the head through his pajamas before Seungcheol is putting his muscles you use and crowding you on to your back.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your lover grunts, ripping your shorts out of the way before diving into his favorite meal. “Say it again.”

“If I do?”

He sucks your clit the same way he kisses; slow and lazy until you’ve got the itch in your gut only quelled by his touch. Seungcheol can do it for hours and he has. Sucking until your eyes water and you practically float to the ceiling. 

The sounds of his mouth tickle your ears. Wet and nasty until he groans into your cunt like he’s never tasted anything better. A stray hand makes for the nest of dark hair still damp from his shower only to be pinned on your gut with enough force you’re tempted to fight to break free.

“Just take it right now,” Seungcheol mumbles around his own tongue. “Be good for me.”

“Fuck, Cheol. Fuck, just like that.” You sob, already breaking cover under the hands of your lover.

First warning comes across your clit with a nip of teeth. “Not my name.”

Your incentive to listen, two thick fingers that know exactly where to play, drive home his request. But if your boyfriend wants what he asked for, then the best way to get him to fully indulge isn’t listening to him. It’s goading him until he makes sure you taste nothing but his cock for the next week. 

Like always, you can’t help a smart comment from bubbling past your lips. “Make. Me.”

Seungcheol doesn’t miss a beat. A single brutal rush of his fingers sends you to the stars. Tongue flat across your sensitive bud, he sucks his cheeks hollow until you whine. There isn’t the usual care he takes even when you’ve been bad with the sole purpose of pushing him to his wits end with hot looks and borderline obscene touches. Seungcheol is wringing you dry with his own sadism. 

The next quip dies on your lips when he curls his tongue inside you between his spread fingers, leaving you feeling dirty in the best way. Watching him eat pussy is like watching an artist but when you go to peek he’s already watching you.

“Beg for it.” Chin and cheeks soaked, even his nose shines in the low light of the lap, Seungcheol fucks you with slow fingers through his next demand. “Beg for it and I’ll let you come like this.”

“Or you can just make me cum?” Your voice gains an octave under the curl of his fingers. Usually he’s eager to give whatever you ask for but not tonight.

“Or you can do what I tell you, ” he sucks into your clit.

Choking on your pout, you trace your foot up his back. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The fun is in your boyfriend, sweet Seungcheol who treats you like a princess without a want left in the world, folding you in half on his cock until you’re crying. He knows it, you know it, and the real foreplay is baiting him into doing it.

“Do you want to cum or not?” He snatches your ankle off his shoulder, pushing until your knee is by your armpit in an impressive show of flexibility. 

“Oh, please daddy make me cum!” You wail sarcastically. It echoes the porn you’ve watched with him in mind and doesn’t taste as bad on your tongue as you thought.

It’s the last straw for now because Seungcheol does the one thing to make you behave. He pulls away.

“Wait, no.” You scramble. Soft touches and softer eyes while you beg. “Baby, please. Please, don’t stop.”

“Come here.”

Planting back in his lap, you rain placating apologetic kisses across his face while your hand plays with his cock. Or you would if Seungcheol didn’t twist your arm and pin it at your spine. 

“Are you ready to be good?”

You hum a yes. Exaggerating for remorse, you nose into the soft spot below his ear you know Seungcheol goes soft for. 

“Then show me.”

This time when you move to take his cock in your mouth, Seungcheol only holds you back to press down his pants. Hard and sticky at the tip. You lick your lips, waiting for permission before cleaning up the mess he’s made for you. You’ll be good until he’s too far gone to stop next time you mouth off.

The taste is one you're accustomed to, coating your tongue as you swallow him down until you nose the coarse hair dusting his base. One hand weighs on the back of your head, stroking gently while you do the dirty work with your tongue.

“Good girl,” he sighs as you mouth around the head with an obscene amount of spit. It drips where your hand squeezes. “Like this, don’t you?”

“Love it.” You mumble around your tongue. “Love your cock.”

Seungcheol’s eyes roam your body like he owns it. The pink of your tongue flush against the maroon cockhead, the curve of your ass in the air for a good show. All his for the taking when he wants. But the air in his lungs is too even. Seungcheol is too in control to let go and you won’t stop until he unravels. 

A hard lick where he leaks is enough to get the game back in motion. 

“Shit. Get up here.”

Cock aching against the soft of his stomach, hair a mess, and flushed from across every visible trace of skin, your boyfriend is a wet dream come to life.

“Hi,” he smiles into your mouth, painfully sweet.

You can’t hide your matching one. “Hi.”

“I love you.” 

Shirt lost over your head, he cups your aching breasts as his thumbs drag across their peaks. 

“I love you too.” You sigh.

“Are you into it or should we stop?”

Meeting in a kiss, you ask, “Into what?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“I’m a firm believer if a man wants to be called daddy he should be able to say it with his chest.”

“But do you want to call me that?”

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn't do it.” You snort. “When have you ever been able to get me to agree to something I don’t want to do?”

The answer is never. Your relationship is forever tainted by matching stubborn streaks. If either of you falls to the other it’s because you wanted to all along but needed to be wooed first.

Seungcheol puffs an amused breath into your neck at the shared thought. 

“Am I being too bratty? Is that why you think I don’t like it?” 

“No, I—,” he pauses to gather his thoughts. “I think it—Makes me want to punish you.”

“Really? You fake a gasp, indulging in the lap of his tongue over your jugular. “Tell me more.”

“You’re bad.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You deny with your chin in the air but your hips swivel across his cock to prove his point.

He gets inside you with easy manipulation, ass flat to his thighs so the only place to go is up into his mouth. Seungcheol grunts under the first rock of your hips. “Someone needs to put you in your place.”

“Oh?” Less of a reaction to his words and more to the way he grips the meat of your ass like he owns it. “Sure you’re up for the challenge?”

The hot sheets Seungcheol previously occupied greet your back as he drives back in with his weight center behind his hips. And then he waits.

“Cheol,” you huff.

Another nudge between the thighs accompanied with the sting of his teeth across your nipple. 

“Please?”

Thighs hooked over his own, Seungcheol spreads you out until you’re spread flat and helpless. Your hands got next, tangled in the fabric of the pillow cases above your heads under one palm. 

He gives it all to you. Hot into your core until he tickles the back of your throat but it's not satisfying the itch. He isn’t fucking you, he’s fucking with you. Giving just enough you’ll need more. 

Ankles locking around his spine, you throw your weight into the next desperate plea. “Fuck me, daddy.”

You feel the smirk across his mouth when he kisses you; blistering and wanting, with too much tongue but he gives you the first real cant of his hips and you can’t complain.

Every curl inside leaves you heaving. But there’s no air, just your boyfriend with something to prove and the stubbornness to give it to you.

“Take it just like that.” He grunts, breath lost to the way you curl around him. “Say it again.”

“Oh, yes daddy,” you moan with your head back.

“Look at you. Need it so bad, don’t you?”

The spark of defiance burns into a flame. You're not down deep enough to behave just yet. Seungcheol wants you to be bad, so you’ll be the worst.

“You’re a freak.” And to add insult to injury, you spit in his face.

Seungcheol freezes. Gazes burning, you both wait for him to catch up and match your move. 

Maybe you’ve gone too far. Goading him is one thing, but spitting in faces is his territory. One you’ve never broached on but the tint of red looks good cover in your saliva. Almost like when he eats you out until you cry and black out. 

Your thoughts don’t dwell on how good your man looks covered in you when he sneers.

“I’m a freak?” He scoffs, rising to one arm to leer over you. “Who’s the bitch getting wet from being treated like a slut?”

God. You think. Even after years he can leave you tongue tied. But now that you’ve started whatever this is, you hope Seungcheol will finish it. 

“Hmmm I don’t know,” you sing. You take the opportunity to paint him with more traces of your nails, smooth skin rippling red and pink. He shudders predictably but manages to wrangle you back into place. “Big talk coming from the man who got off on making her cum when his friends were in the same room.”

“Yeah? And who wanted my friends to watch her blow me?”

You open your mouth to talk back but choke on a thumb. He nearly tickles your throat with it, caving your chest with struggle until you can control your breathing.

“Aww, you look so pretty like this.” Seungcheol pats your cheek until you're warm with embarrassment. 

He isn’t as nice when you bite down.

Thumb digging into your tongue until you choke again, the cut of his teeth against your earlobe makes you quake with want as he growls, “You’re done talking.”

If the digit in your mouth wasn’t enough to reduce you to a puddle, his cock is. Fast and brutal, Seungcheol gives it to you the way he knows best. Your end crests faster than you’re prepared for.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry messily. 

Seungcheol’s eyes burn with excitement but he doesn’t stop; he pries your mouth open and spits flat on your tongue.

“Cum for me.” He groans into your cheek. “Let me see my pretty little slut cum.”

Everything aches from the force behind such a command but your body delivers. Tight, tight, tight until the cord snaps and you’re seizing. Your boyfriend controls your thrashing like its easy work, weighed down with his hips and chest and thighs while you wail.

Nerves scorched, you feel him cooing sweet affirmations in your ear but the words fall deaf. Your jaw is wet from his thumb’s gentle stroking, and his stomach is flat to your own; only moving between breaths.

“Good girl, did so good for me. Always do.”

You groan somewhere deep in your throat. “God, that was hot.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding an affirmative, you push him away. Seungcheol goes easily enough. Clearly he’s still not fully in the space he needs to take advantage of his kinks; of your new found, shared fantasy.

Stealing his pillow, you fold it under your hips for the stability the muscles of your legs fail to provide. Ass high in the air, you ground into the sheets.

“More?” he asks. He’s eager, hands pulling at your cheeks, spreading them to get a look at the mess he’s made of your cunt. 

“Wanna see you cum.” Looking over your shoulder with doe eyes and a pout, you sell his fantasy. “Please, daddy.”

Seungcheol guides himself through your damp folds, collecting your arousal with each swipe; nudging against your sensitive clit and chuckling at your responsive shudders until he catches on your entrance. He dares to dip in just barely an inch before pulling back; repeating the dance over and over, sinking deeper with each repetition until the flat of his pelvis is flushed with your skin. 

The stretch is enough to drive you mad, full to the brim and squeezing around the intrusion promising nothing but satisfaction again. Seungcheol doesn’t wait for confirmation. Simply rocking into you with firm pressure as he’s drowned in the scorching clamp of your pussy.

Forcing a hand between your front and the bed to play with your clit, you pant into the pillow as everything multiplies.

“Who does this pussy belong to?”

The fabric below you is ruined with your spit. Fresh sheets put to good use. Cocking over your shoulder you find Seungcheol with his mouth tight and eyes glued where he stretches you. “You wouldn’t know him.” 

Your laughter tastes like acid, high on reward the sick answer will grant you. Immediately, your ass stings with his hand print. Again and again until it aches like a sunburn.

There’s no other choice but to take it. With his other hand between your shoulder blades, Seungcheol fucks you hard enough your teeth chatter.

“Shit! That's what gets you wet?” You hear the sound of his spit against your ass, already soaked that it won’t make a difference but gets you hot anyway. “Pretending anyone else could fuck you like I do?”

A blast of excitement floods your veins. The thrill he’s letting go bit by bit, stringing himself out the way he always manages to get you. “Then fuck this pussy like it belongs to you.”

Collapsing across your back, Seungcheol collars you with one hand to pull you from the shelter of the pillows before spitting, “Spread it for me.”

He fucks you raw and aching. Hard enough you crumble under his hips, hands pinned between his body and your ass. Even through the pillows the clap of skin on skin is deafening. One of his hands takes up the rough circles on your clit. The glide from arousal makes your blood thick.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you wail. “Just like that, fuck!”

“Close?”

Nodding through the tears in your eyes, you let it rush on you. The old neighbors next door will complain tomorrow but you can’t control the lewd whines your boyfriend rips out of you as you cum on his cock. It burns worse than the first time, verging on blacking out your vision but you love it. Like a rubber band, you stretch your ends until it all snaps back, chest curled into the sheets. The cotton roughs your sore nipples but it makes you tighter on his cock.

“Cum inside me! Need it. Please Cheol, please daddy.” 

Seungcheol swells inside you, two earth shaking thrust, and then a moan leaves you filled the way you crave. 

“Jesus Christ,” you pant. Vision blurred, you only vaguely register your boyfriend’s hand stroking along your side while you come down. “I think you got me pregnant. Fuck.” 

Seungcheol’s lips flit across your shoulder, slowly bringing himself back too. “Wouldn’t be mad about that.”

“I know you wouldn’t. Now clean me up.” You demand with your nose in the air. “Next time you should call me daddy.”

“Next time I’ll use those cuffs Jeonghan gave me for Christmas.”

“Damn, you really are a freak.”

Happily, he drags you into the stall for the second shower of the night. Frigid streams sting on your skin but the bastard pouts his way into keeping you in his arms; shivering but full of sleepy smiles under his lips.

“You’re so mean to me!” You shriek, back arching away from the miserable cold tile he corners you into. It’s nice where your ass still stings but everything else blooms in gooseflesh. “This is no way to treat your wife!”

“We aren’t married, yet,” he hums. The edge of disappointment isn’t lost on you.

“And if you don’t want that ring to go to waste you’ll move over.”

Seungcheol sputters, “How’d you find it?”

“Baby,” you coo, cupping his face between wet hands. “You’re the least subtle man I know.” 

“It’s not even in the house!”

“Your life will be so much better when you start believing I know everything.” Booping him on the nose, you smirk with glee. “And remember Mingyu gossips like an old lady.”

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Neil, my name is Zalean. If you have a few minutes, I wanted to tell you a little story. Not really a question and I’m not sure how to use tumblr but I wanted to say thanks so much for coming to Florida a few months back and talking with Art Spiegelman. It was my first time ever figuring out how to buy tickets for something. I lived in, middle of nowhere, Vermont for most my life and had no idea what I was doing, I had never been to anything before, nothing had made me excited enough to do the 5 hour drive. And then you just appeared 20 minutes away from where I am living now.

See, I was just starting to get to know your books and work because I fell in love with Good Omens so deeply when I discovered it during season twos release. Funny thing is, I knew of you all along without even realizing it, Stardust has been my favorite book and movie since I was a kid because it was my dad’s favorite story. Finding out my two favorite things were actually connected, I started trying to get hands on as many of your books as I could. I hadn’t read in years before finding your books. It was eye opening.

The talk event at the Dr.Phillips Center was sold out by the time I knew about it, someone had asked me if I knew of the event when they saw my Good Omens keychains my mom had made me. I called the box office because there is no harm in asking. I explained how I’m an art student at UCF and desperately wanted to be inspired and learn from you both. The customer service people were amazing and ended up calling me back to get me a seat in the orchestra pit before they were released to the public. I drove alone, I walked there alone, I sat alone, and it was worth it. I was so thankful to get a seat and grateful to my professor who was a bit jealous he didn’t know about it but let me leave class early to go because of course the art professor would be understanding for any learning opportunities in the arts. And it was truly wonderful, it seemed real and that’s what I wanted. I didn’t want a show. I just wanted to hear, in some sense, that you were like everybody else. I brought a notebook and pen for any information or story’s that I thought made a difference to my little life. The other people around were wonderful, you inspire kind people.

Like I said, I had never been to anything like this and I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know you would have signed books and I only found out because the people next to me came in late. I asked them why they brought the books after it was over and the lights turned on. They did look at me like I had three heads for a moment until they realized I didn’t know there were books to buy, they looked kinda sorry for me but they were so nice. I had never really thought about the importance of someone’s scribble before this but it’s something that proves you were there. It says “Remember when this person made you happy? Remember when they changed your life? Remember when they gave you hope? Look at this and remember.” I hope to see David Tennant and Michael Sheen to get an autograph now that I understand the meaning behind it a bit more but honestly I just love diving into everyone’s projects, the wonder you all create. Oh what fun it is to live a life full of stories!

The people that were sitting next to me let me look at their signed books and hold them. I flipped through some of the big ones, handed them back and expressed my gratitude just to be in the theater. I showed them all my little quotes I wrote down, I never want to forget why I create things and you say so much about never stopping, always creating. Then the women handed me a different book, a smaller book, but when I tried to hand it back, a bit confused, she softly placed it back in my open hands and said “I want you to have it, we have plenty and I want you to love these stories just as much as we do. It’s just starting for you, I want you to remember who started it”. The book she handed me being“The Ocean at the End of the Lane”. The first book I decided to read by you and had just finished a week before. The women had no idea she given me a signed copy of the book that made me want to read again. Your books make the world better. For such a big theater and such a big stage, I just wanted to tell you my little point of view.

The story you told about wishing you enjoyed the past more than you did, I hope you get to enjoy it now, and I hope you want to. And thank you, to you and to Terry Pratchett for creating something special. I convinced my dad to watch Good Omens with me over December break, he loved it.

I forget sometimes that everything is someone's first time, and then I read something like this and feel like I need to remember that better. I'm glad the people beside you were kind.

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store

warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness

genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.

“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.

a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.

you also had no idea who william blake was.

“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.

“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”

maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.

you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”

“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”

“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.

“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,

“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”

“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.

“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”

“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.

you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.

you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.

“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”

he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.

“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.

it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.

“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.

spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,

“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”

emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.

“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”

“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.

“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.

spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”

you were not just someone.

“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”

“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.

“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”

you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.

“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.

“no, this is fine.”

this? them? you thought this man was articulate.

you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.

“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.

it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.

“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”

you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.

“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.

you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.

“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”

there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.

the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.

she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.

“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.

“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.

he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.

“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”

you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”

logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.

“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”

spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.

all you have to do is talk.

spencer is great at talking.

“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”

it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.

“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.

“spencer-“

“dude just ask her out.”

spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,

“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.

logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.

you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.

you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.

you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.

“$2.50.” you grumble.

you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”

“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”

you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.

“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”

logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”

“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”

you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”

the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.

“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.

suddenly your apartment felt lonely.

so did spencer’s.

he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.

“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”

“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.

“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”

spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.

“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”

“you mentioned that, lover boy.”

pt.4

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker

[nerdpoe]

Phantom does not like Bruce Wayne, he tells Batman with a completely serious face.

Phantom is hanging out in the Watchtower, shooting the shit with Green Arrow.

Well, Phantom is talking shit about rich people.

"Sounds like a personal grudge," Batman comments idly. Lots of people don't like rich people, so he isn't actually offended.

"Oh, I just hate a select few. Oliver Queen? He's fine." Green Arrow visibly preens.

Batman feels a lip twitch, but fights the smile.

"What about Bruce Wayne?" Superman asks, very deliberately not looking at Batman.

Phantom snorts.

"Bruce Wayne? I hope he wrecks one of those fancy cars and needs both his feet amputated."

The room goes completely silent.

"Holy crap, kid; what'd he do?"

"He backed Vlad Masters is what he did. The Wayne Tech he provided was used to get one-up on me; took me literally two months to escape." The kid cracks his neck, and the high neckline moves enough to show off a shiny new red scar.

Bruce feels the world drop from under his feet.

"He what?" The question is ripped from Batman's throat before he even finishes thinking it.

"Oh yeah, he also financially backed the supporting senators behind the anti-ecto acts. Bruce Wayne is a literal useless sack of shit."

"...I'm sorry, the anti-ecto what?" Superman's voice is strained as he asks, and his eyes are already starting to glow.

Bruce, after getting back to the cave, pulls Tim aside and together they rip into every single transaction the board did both over the table and under it.

And there it is.

Multiple board members had been using Bruce Wayne's name as they donated to shady politicians, essentially sold off his developmental tech that was supposed to be disposed of, and had been embezzling funds.

On all official papers, Bruce Wayne was the biggest backer for a law that was in clear violation of Meta Rights.

@simplestoryteller

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Building a Hornet’s Nest

Male Wasp Hybrid Harem x Feminized Male Reader (CW: Noncon, musk, pheromones, bukkake, gangbang, double penetration, wasp men, oviposition, feminized male reader, drug-like cum, wasp transformation, DNA manipulation, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 3.7k (Sorry that this took so long. Sorry that this is so weird. I hope some people can find the degeneracy within themselves to enjoy it.) 

When your distant uncle had passed away and left you a property you were surprised to say the least. You were more surprised to learn that it was on Arcadia and that your uncle had never lived long enough to go and see it as he had been ill for some time before his passing and he was not particularly old either. Years ago, unknown to most of the family, he had procured a modest plot of land on Arcadia, a distant planet on the fringes of known space. A true modern day frontier. It was known for its mega-flora. With flowers that grew to the size of trees in some cases. It was also known for its giant docile bees. They were just like bees on Earth except much much larger and they were stingless, it was very easy to domesticate them and now people used them on Arcadia to develop many rare and exotic honey types from the strange alien flowers. Your uncle had wanted to be a beekeeper, he was apparently going to invite you on the venture with him seeing as how you were both into farming and working the land and you had helped him with his beekeeping when you were younger, but he never recovered from his illness so you did not find out until his death. With only a bit of hesitance you decided to pursue your uncle’s dream. When you first got to Arcadia you were in awe by how tranquil and picturesque it was, the pictures and videos that you had seen certainly did it no justice. Unlike Earth most of the foliage was various shades of red, orange, and yellow. Giant blooms of every shape and color imaginable were everywhere, with the exception of the clearing that a small settlement had been built in. Despite being here for a few decades it was still very much a quaint little frontier town, pleasant enough people, offering just the bare essential services. Then there was your new plot of land a few miles from town. It was… run down… to say the least. But you made due, you had sold everything of significant value that you had owned back on Earth and were fully committing to this new venture. And, after a few months, your efforts finally paid off. A giant mansion sized barn for your future bees was built and your house was repaired. All that was left to do was wait for your shipment of buzzy friends to arrive. Well they wouldn’t be so busy when they arrived, as they would still be pupa, but within a week or two the pupa would be finished developing into full sized giant docile bees, they would accept the barn as their home and set up shop. The day came when your shipment finally landed and you were so thrilled, they came off the hover truck and you hurried them into their new home, carefully placing them horizontally into cells in the walls and capping them. In truth you had been more than a bit worried, you were running perilously low on funds and had to go with a discount bee supplier that seemed just a slight bit unreliable. But it seemed you had worried for nothing, here were your bee pupa, nice and healthy. Though they did seem to be a slightly different shape than they looked from the advertisements and videos, you were sure that nothing was wrong. You could barely contain your excitement, you had heard that these bees easily imprint on their humans and are very loving, soon they would establish a hive and your goals would be obtained. It would be slow at first, as you only had enough to get three pupa, but you would get there eventually. You couldn’t stop yourself from checking the barn every few hours. 9 or 10 times each and every single day. The wait was torture. But finally, after about 12 days, you heard buzzing coming from the barn when you stepped out of your house in the morning, you practically tripped over yourself running back inside to grab the collars for them and then dashed back outside and across the field of flowers you had started to grow for them. You opened the door to the barn and… it was NOT what you were expecting. The three pupa were no longer in the cells you had packed them so lovingly into, but they sure as hell were not bees either. Instead, standing before you were three wasp-men. You knew what these were, genetically engineered human-wasp hybrids, that typically had smaller genetic contributions from several ant and bee species as well, that were typically used in highly regulated projects or otherwise extremely shady sources of labor on the very unregulated frontier planets. The question was how did you get them? Did someone’s order get mixed with yours? With how much energy and enthusiasm you opened the door with, they were all now intently staring at you, and to say that they were intimidating would have been an understatement. They all looked fairly similar to one another, red and yellow plates of chitinous exoskeletons covered their feet, arms, legs, chests, and backs. The only thing lacking the exoskeletons were their faces, abs, asses, and crotches. Which were very much exposed, showing off scarily long cocks and heavy balls. They had red bug-like eyes, they had fangs but otherwise regular mouths, but they sat between a set of wicked looking mandibles. Antenna twitched on their heads, sticking out from long blood red hair. Each had a set of large wings folded behind them. Their antennas twitched in your direction as they also sniffed the air curiously. Uh-oh. They were from a shady source so who knows how unpredictably they could act towards you, so you wisely decided to make a hasty retreat, but they quickly flew over to you and pulled you back deeper into the building. “Where’s the rush?” one of them inquired in a slightly buzzing but deep voice, “Me and my friends just woke up here and need some answers.” “Uh-uh okay, sure, what do you want to know?” The one speaking put his arm roughly around your waist and pulled you closer to him. “Well, we are looking for the person meant to be our queen, do you know where they are? Your scent is the only one here. Did you put us in the wall compartments?” “There isn’t any queen, but y-yeah I was the one who bought your pupa and put them in there.” He took a moment to feel you over with his antenna, it probably would have tickled had you not been scared shitless. “Sooo… you’re the queen? Or are you under someone??” “There isn't one! And I own this land and made this building for bees…” One of the other two wasp men chimed in at this. “Ha! Bees? Those weak passive ones that have no human in em and are about as smart as a pet dog? You’re lucky you got us instead, we are far superior!” The one holding you now much too tightly replied while flexing his free arm,”He’s right, we are much better. You really lucked out little queen~ We can keep you much safer.” He licked up your neck with a long narrow tongue making you shiver. “I told you, there isn’t a queen!” You were beginning to grow annoyed with the cyclic nature of this conversation. “You bought us? You own this territory? You put us in cells so we could grow?” “W-well yeah but… I’m n-not-” “You’re our queen then~ Don’t be scared we’ll keep you all safe from the big scary world! You’re far too weak and squishy to just be left alone.” “Ha! Yeah, just a pathetic squishy little human,” the third one that had been silent up until now chuckled as he poked you hard in the stomach. The one holding you grinded gently into your ass, his cock fully erect and prodding your cheeks. “This ass is soft too~ Bet it feels great inside, doesn’t it little queen?” “S-stop, please, I’m not a w-woman!” “Awe, our queen is a bit dumb too~ Good thing we came along to take care of you. It doesn’t matter if you don’t think you’re our queen yet, we’ll rape you full of our eggs. You’ll look so lovely full of our spawn~” As he said all of this he began to gently rub his hand against your crotch and the other two hybrid men stepped closer. Between the unwanted touching and the mention of the word rape you decided it may be worth the risk to try and escape anyway, but your struggles didn’t last long. The man holding you shook you a bit violently until you were unsteady and still and then held the top of his wrist to your neck. A long thick black needle protruded from his wrist and was pointed at you threateningly. You turned away, trying to put as much space between your neck and the sinister looking needle as possible. “Maybe you aren’t too dumb, you know what this does don’t you my queen? It’ll hurt terribly before paralyzing you and allowing us to play with you at our leisure and make you fulfill your royal duty~” You let out a pathetic whimper in response. “Oh, don’t worry, I don’t want to use it. How can you squirm around my dick if I did? So just relax and let this happen the easier, more fun way, okay?” He nibbled on your earlobe and you went completely limp in his grasp, signaling that you wouldn’t put up anymore of a fight. “Heh heh, excellent choice, my queen~” The other two wasps chuckled cruelly as well as one pulled your shirt off and the other wasted no time in unburdening you of your pants and boxers. They stared at you hungrily. Your nudity only fueled your fear and you had to stifle your instinct to flail, thrash, punch, and run. But doing so would surely make things much worse for you, better to just let them have their way and get it over with and hope you could sneak out after maybe when they were sleeping or otherwise distracted. You could feel the cock of the hybrid behind you gently rubbing against your hole as he licked and bit at your neck. He bent down behind you and spread your cheeks, making you shudder as an inhumanly long tongue prodded your hole before sliding in deep, stretching you out gently as it probed and making you twitch and grow hard as it found and focused on your prostate. The genetics for their tongues definitely came from long tongued bees. The wasp man behind you got up and resumed pressing his cock into your hole. “Just getting you good and ready queen~” He whispered softly into your ear. His large cock mercifully massaged copious amounts of thick precum into you to prep you for breeding. At least the entry wouldn’t be unstretched or dry, because that’s not something you would have put past them. The other two wasps were busy rubbing their hands all over your body, rubbing your belly, groping your ass cheeks, stroking your face with surprising tenderness, and contrasting that with rough greedy groping of your soft thighs and tugging at your hair. As the one behind you slipped inside your well lubed ass a second wasp enveloped your hard cock entirely within its mouth while the third kissed you passionately, its tongue fervently exploring every inch of your mouth. You couldn’t even yell in pleasure or protest the pain of having your ass invaded by a large inhuman cock as the long thin went down your throat, making you gag a bit. Finally respecting your need to breathe, the wasp removed itself from your face and began biting your sensitive neck, adding to the complete overly stimulating waves of sensation already being caused by having your dick enveloped by a hot mouth and your prostate gently kissed by the rhythmic thrusts of the other two insectoid men. The one attending your cock took his free hand to massage your balls and that led you to possibly the quickest orgasm of your life. In any other situation you would have been totally humiliated, but you were long past having any dignity today. The one behind you did not relent in his fucking of you, but instead picked up the pace a bit as he felt your body shudder, the one sucking you off hungrily swallowed your load before licking his lips and getting up. “My, you were really pent up my queen, and you produce such sweet honey for me!” He pressed his lips to yours, letting the taste of your own cum permeate your mouth. Between the kiss and the constant pounding of your ass you whimpered as you were already hard again, the wasp that had previously had its tongue down your throat now replacing the one that swallowed your cum at your cock, kissing the sensitive organ before licking it and sucking your recently emptied nuts. You whimpered as they continued to manhandle your sensitive body. The one pumping into your tight hole finally slamming in hard and cumming forcefully, depositing something round and hard into you as he did, making you flinch a bit in surprise as you remembered that they reproduced via eggs, it did not really hurt, but you felt a tingling inside where the waspoid cum touched you. The cock inside you lingered a while as it filled you but once it slid out and away from you your ass’ rest was short lived. One of the wasps laid with his back on the ground and with his cock pointing up, the other two bringing you over to him and forcing you to lower yourself onto his eager, drooling, prick. Your well stretched hole slid on him easily and he gripped you tight and forced you up and down on his length. That special spot inside you was rubbed once more, making you shudder in unwilling pleasure, your body completely betraying you. The pace was slow enough for you, and surprisingly he seemed unwilling to seriously injure his “queen”. As you were finally getting used to the motions one of the other wasps, the one that had already filled your ass, came up behind and slid his cock back inside you with his friend’s so that you were now being plowed in tandem by the both of them. As you gasped from the sudden extra intrusion abusing your insides the third wasp took advantage of your open mouth and wasted no time in putting his dick in your open mouth. You could taste his precum, oddly enough it had just a slight soothing effect and you noticed it tasted of honey. Filled to the brim with cock, you started to get a bit more relaxed as time went on, not overly so. You were still very unwilling and any pleasure was purely physical, incidental, and frustrating, but whatever was in the honey like fluid dripping from his cock was definitely making you a bit less stiff and just a tad bit less defiant. While this was happening you thought you could remember hearing something about this, that modified wasp and bee species made substances that could calm down their queens when distressed, both in fluids and via pheromones. And now that you thought about it the musk that hung heavily in the air was strangely comforting, it was like the more of the precum that dripped down your throat the more you were affected by the smell that these men were giving off. Not nearly enough to really lose yourself though, it was far more subtle than that. It was also probably why you did not feel too much pain anymore despite two dicks pistoning your ass, as one cock thrust forward the other pulled back. All the while the one occupying your mouth was happily pumping away, content with enjoying the wet warmth of your mouth as he fed you more pre. Between all the sensations overtaking your body, the cocks sliding in and out of you, the pheromones and relaxing fluid, and the hands roaming over your sides, face, and thighs, you couldn’t help but blow another load, right on the wasp that was below you. “See? It feels good to be our queen, doesn’t it,” he asked with a mocking chuckle knowing full well it was just your body’s response and it didn’t mean you were enjoying your predicament. After several minutes the one making you suck him pulled out and moaned as he came all over your face, covering you in warm slippery fluid. There were no eggs in this ejaculation, he was certainly saving all of those to be deposited deep inside you to go along with his friend’s. Your skin tingled a bit where the cum touched you and you began to feel just a bit dizzy as your inhibitions slowly lowered just a bit and you became even more relaxed. The cum was much more potent than just the precum and the load up your ass was gradually affecting you as well. Musk permeating the air was much thicker than it had been, or maybe you just noticed it more now, but it was making you drool a bit and you couldn’t help but bounce back a bit against the dicks in your suddenly hungry hole. “I feel really weird… can we stop now…” You stifled a cry, something wasn’t right, you were much more sensitive than normal to everything and you were having difficulty thinking clearly. The wasps all smirked as they ignored you, knowing that their fluid was slowly turning you into a weak little queen they could worship and fill with egg after egg. It was slowly changing your very DNA, making you receptive to hybrid pheromones, making you crave them. The one that had previously unloaded in you pulled out and came all over your back. Moments later the one below you working you on his shaft like some kind of living sex toy slammed you down to the base of his cock and filled you deeply with even more eggs and semen, causing you to spasm and moan weakly with a dry orgasm of your own. “Fuck! You’re a great incubator!” While you were panting and trying to recover the wasp previously abusing your mouth unceremoniously pulled you off the cock you were on and gripped you tight from behind, his erection easily sliding in your cum leaking entrance. “Not done yet, being queen is very busy work, you have to take my eggs too~” “P-please no more, I-I feel funny,” you pleaded desperately as your head was swimming with mixed signals. You knew you didn’t want this but you were so light headed you could barely think, and now these wasp men smelled so alluring, and wouldn’t having more eggs in you feel so nice? “I-I n-need to s-stop…” You felt an instinctual need to keep letting them fill you up, but at the same time you were burning up and truly felt feeble and sick. “Shhh, shhh, just relax, okay? You have been such a good mate for us so far~” He licked a long stripe up your neck with his thin tongue and held you tighter as he continued grinding into you. Without warning he started flying a few feet in the air while still breeding you, his insect instincts telling him to give you a proper nuptial flight. In no time the other wasps joined in as well, both of them in front of you, tending to their precious queen. Rubbing you up and down, smearing the fluid that covered you into your skin, giving little kisses and nibbles, and caresses where they saw fit. They were a bit brutish, but they knew the transition occurring in all of your cells was a rough one and they wanted to help their queen embrace his new role as easily as possible, especially since you had been such a perfect weak little mate for them. You would have continued to beg for them to stop, but it felt so nice now. And it would have been so ungrateful. These nice men were taking care of you so sweetly, giving you lots of eggs to tend to, choosing you to take care of them. It made you feel fluttery in the pit of your stomach. You were so lucky. With a shudder the final load of eggs was unloaded into you, the wasp man behind you wrapping his legs around yours as he came. They all gently lowered you to the ground, one of them keeping you in his arms with you leaning against him and burying your head in his neck before passing out from sheer exhaustion. The wasps’ fluids were still hard at work rewriting your DNA, somewhat like a virus. It was definitely taking a toll on you. Your harem of wasp-men took you to your house and had you all washed up and bundled in your bed, keeping a dedicated vigil over you as you had a deep but feverish sleep. They did not like seeing you uncomfortable, unless it was from them teasing you. But they knew it would be worth it, when you woke up in a few days you would be totally dependent on them. Your new insect DNA demanding you to always be by one of them for safety and telling you that you would constantly need to be incubating their eggs. Their pheromones would comfort, alert, or arouse you based on what they needed to communicate and you would produce some as well that allowed them to track you and be aware of your condition. You’d even grow antenna and your skin would take a reddish tone. You would technically be a wasp hybrid yourself, but that would be the extent of your transformation. Just a weak incubator hopelessly dependent on them for the rest of your life.

[tayytayy12]

Off to the races | CS55 x Reader

Summary - When your father sold you off into a loveless marriage with a feared mafia boss, you knew it wouldn’t end well, the two of you hardly ever speaking, but one night when your husband promises he’ll start doing better, you cousins help but believe him.

Warnings - swearing, whatever you’d expect from a Mafia story really

Requested - No - Yes

Type - Written

Not been proofread

You knew from the money that your father told you about the little arrangement he had made with Carlos Sainz, the most feared man in all of Spain, that you’d be unhappy as the result of it. You’re whole life you’d grown up lacking the luxury of having a lot of money, but you had a loving family that were worth everything to you, so you was content, but apparently your father didn’t feel the same.

He done something stupid. Something so incredibly stupid and wrong, he borrowed money from Carlos Sainz, money he knew for a fact that he would never be able to able to repay, so when the man showed up at your family’s home, a gun pointed at your fathers head unless he could offer up some kind of repayment, your father offered you up to the man without a moment of hesitation.

Carlos’ men came and hit you the next day, no matter how much you screamed and begged your mother and father to make them not take you, to let you stay at home with your family, they didn’t listen and you was taken away and married off to Carlos at the next available date.

He didn’t love you, he didn’t care for you, he needed you for one thing and one thing only, an heir. One to take over for him when he wouldn’t work anymore, to keep his family name leading the mafia past his lifetime, that’s all.

You didn’t have fun at the wedding, you never had fun, you woke up, had breakfast, wandered around the halls of your home, and went to bed, you hardly ever saw Carlos, it was rare he even came home at night.

You sighed, flopping onto your back as the moonlight shone through the crack in the curtains, yet another night that sleep seemed like something far out of reach, another night where Carlos wasn’t home and he was out doing god knows what.

You could never sleep alone, back at home you shared a room with your younger sister, your whole life you’d never have to stay in a room all alone, it was too quiet and empty.

“Fuck this.” You muttered as you threw the blanket off of your legs and slipped some shoes and a robe on as you walked out of your bedroom, the two guard that were always near you following a few steps behind, another annoying habit of your husband, having guards follow and track your every move.

You went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, something your other used to do when you was a child and couldn’t sleep, and went to go sit on the back porch of your house, looking out onto the anchors of land that she now partly owned.

You groaned as you heard the door click open from behind you, “Mr.Jackson, I appreciate that you’re just going your job, but it’s a glass door, can’t you just look at me through it instead? It’s bad enough you’re always two feet behind me. No offence.”

“Is that how you talk to all my staff?” You instantly sat up straighter when you heard your husband’s voice instead of the British accent of your assigned bodyguard, you cleared your throat, “Sorry Mr.Sainz, I didn’t know it was you.” You whispered, your eyes still stuck on the land before you.

“No need to be so formal, cariño,” he said as he sat on the seat beside yours, “we are married after all.”

You scoffed and rolled his eyes at his words and muttered a quiet “Barley.” But he still heard you and turned his stare towards you, “and by that you mean?”

You rolled your eyes once again, “I see you four times a month if I’m lucky, Carlos. You’ve never wished me a happy birthday in two years of marriage. You see me as the key to continuing your family name. Nothing more.”

He didn’t know what to say, he was angry, not at you. At himself for letting you ever think the words leaving your mouth were true, “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way cariño.”

You shrugged and took a sip of your tea, the warm liquid gliding down your throat, “Don’t be. Our marriage is and always has been a business proposition, nothing more.”

He wanted to say so many things in that moment, how he picked you because from the moment he saw you, your enchanting eyes and sweet as honey laugh, he fell. He could get any woman from anywhere to continue his family’s legacy, but he chose you.

“Trust me, cariño,” he whispered as he moved from his seat and got on his knees in front of you, confusing you greatly as he took the warm mug from your hand and placed it in the ground, “you’re much more than a part of a business deal to me.” He whispered and he placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I’ll do better by you, you’re my wife, my main priority,” he whispered, this side of him was new, so new you was scared to say that you liked it, “tell me what I can do to start making it better.”

You swallowed lightly, having no idea where this Carlos was coming from, “You can actually spend the night with me tonight.” Yous aid in a quite whisper, but he had no protest, he just nodded with a smile as he stood and picked you up, a,ing you help in surprise as your legs wrapped round his waist on instinct.

He carried you to your shared bedroom and placed you down into the bed and he went to change, when he tenured you was asleep against the soft pillows, the tea having worked its magic and your exhaustion catching up to you, he smiled down at your body as he got in bed careful besides your sleeping frame and pulled you into him, he was going to do better. He was going to be better, for you. He was.

—————

[peachessndreamss]

A Rose by Any Other Name.

Summery : Princes Aegon and Aemond visit Highgarden to broker a marriage contract for the younger brother, while there Aemond finds himself in need of relief and doesn't care who with.

Characters : Aemond Targaryen x f!Tyrell reader

Warnings : Dub Con, abuse of title/rank, oral sex (male receiving), female masturbation, derogatory terms for women, alcohol consumption, cannon divergent, Aegon slander

Word count : 4.5 k

A/N : Sometimes my dreams are the unlimited pasta caste and sometimes they're this, sorry. While English is my first language I'm also profoundly dyslexic, I've done my best to minimise spelling and grammar issues but I'm there still are plenty.

The ground of a Highgarden stable yard was a mess of mud and straw as the eldest Tyrell daughter rode her horse sedately out of the stables and toward the open door of the outer keep. There had been days of fresh spring rains which had soaked the earth, swollen the rivers and brought the Reach alive in a riot of colour, from the azure blue of the sky to the lush green of the grasses in the animal fields and every colour of the rainbow in the food and flowers that grew and ripened under the warming sun. 

“Outriders say the Princes are only a few hours away if the good weather holds so don’t go far,” the horse master reminded her. 

“I’ll not go far,” she replied with an airy wave of her hand, the route she’d already set on in her mind was several hours over the roughest terrain the estate of Highgarden had to offer and would have her coming home a good while after the Targaryen visitors had arrived. She had no desire to stand in the muddy yard with her siblings to greet the princes when their wheelhouse rolled in. 

Her father had started brokering the marriage contract over 9 months before, ravens flew back and forth between Highgarden and Kings Landing as her father bartered, first, with the Hand of the King and then with Queen Alicent. She’d looked through the letters herself, working out just how much she was worth to her father and the Targaryens. Finally the Queen suggested Aegon and Aemond visit the Reach themselves to complete negotiations and hold a formal betrothal. 

If she was going to be sold off to Aemond Targaryen like a cow at a market she would at least spend her final day as an unbetrothed woman in the way she enjoyed the most. As she passed under the gate the horse beneath her gave a shiver of anticipation, as they turned toward the East and the low spring sun that dazzled her eyes the horse gave a snort of impatience. 

Despite the lack of visibility Lady Tyrell angled the horse toward a small cluster of woods she knew were on the horizon, she clicked her tongue and gave the horse a short squeeze with her thighs. At this the horse broke into a trot and soon they were hidden by the sun and quickly disappearing over the horizon. 

In the West, still 10 or so miles from Highgarden, the royal wheelhouse shuddered and bounced over the pitted road, shaking the two occupants and further fraying delicate nerves. 

Aegon groaned and gripped at the set beneath him, his head hanging low and his eyes closed tightly as he tried to stop feeling like his head and body were moving in different directions. 

“I can’t see why we couldn’t come on dragonback,” Aegon groaned as he fought the urge to vomit again. 

Aemond remained in stoney silence, seething at his older brother and the despicable mess he was. The night before they had slept in a tavern on the edge of the Reach. Aegon has drunk his way through an entire barrel of rose wine and was found in the morning asleep in the stable between two sheep. The smell of him, a mix of spilt wine and sheep shit made Aemond's stomach roll. 

“Isn't there some high born hole you can marry in Kings Landing?” Aegon complained as the wheelhouse gave a lurch and bumped over the poorly maintained track. 

“Cease your incessant whining,” Aemond finally snapped, kicking his brother in the leg. 

“Why did I have to come?” Aegon muttered, rubbing at his calf and glaring at Aemond through the lank locks of hair that had fallen over his face. 

“I would have paid good money to leave you behind,” Aemond replied coldly. 

“Why didn't you?!”. 

“Mother insisted,” Aemond shrugged and turned away from his brother, pulling the window cover back with a long finger and watching disinterestedly at the countryside rolling by. If he ended up marrying into the Lords of this land, the first thing he'd insist on was better roads. 

The wheelhouse turned sharply and Aegon groaned again, stuffing his cloak into his mouth to fight the nausea. Once it had passed he spit the fabric out, it tasted like sheep and possibly his piss. 

“I fucking hope she's worth it,” he hissed. 

The lady returned to Highgarden even later than she'd intended and in a far worse state. Her usually sure mount had startled while riding through a wooded area and thrown her off his back into a sticky quagmire, she’d landed mostly on her back and left side, the clothes had become soaked in mud that had been almost impossible to get off when it was wet. She had washed the worst of it off her face and hands  in a small stream but her riding clothes remained caked in the muck. 

“My Lady, what happened?” The horse master exclaimed as she trotted the beast into the stables. 

“He threw me is all, no lasting damage done,” she replied as she dismounted and patted the horse's neck lovingly. 

“Are they here?” She asked after a moment of heavy silence. 

“Your father's taken them to his solar, he's not happy you weren't here to greet them,”. 

She nodded sharply and handed the reins of the horse over to a stableboy.

“Plenty of hay, water and a few of those early golden apples,” she instructed before turning and heading into the yard.

She entered the building through a servants door, knowing she could make a path between there and her own rooms that wouldn't put her anywhere near her father's solar. She could be washed and changed and ready to entertain Princes long before dinner was served. 

She stepped into a small anteroom off the kitchens where she knew she could take off her ruined riding gear, stripping down to her small clothes and riding boots, she left everything in a pile, making a note to tell her maidservant about it as soon as she saw the woman. She couldn't well wander the halls of Highgarden in her shift so she took a clean servants dress from the stack in the corner and pulled the shapeless linen over her head, tying it around the middle with a belt of braided cord. She splashed icy water on her face and did her best to tuck any loose hairs back into their braid before setting off for her rooms. 

She'd almost made it back to her own chambers when a voice from behind spoke. 

“Girl, come here,” it commanded and she stopped in her tracks. 

No one in her father's household would speak to her like that, even if she was dressed as a servant. She turned slowly, the blood racing to her face when she looked at Aemond Targaryen for the first time. 

He was still dressed for travel, with black leather trousers and a similarly hardy jacket with a high collar. The patch over his eye hid most of the damage but the deep red scar extended up his forehead and down his cheek, the only mark she could see on his otherwise glass clear skin. There was no flicker of recognition on his face, he obviously had no idea who he was speaking to. 

“Come here,” he ordered again when she'd not moved toward him. 

She opened her mouth to protest, to ask him who he thought he was speaking to but she stopped, closing her mouth and moving toward him. If she was going to marry this man she wanted to know what type of man he was and how better to learn than to see how he treated servants. 

As she moved toward him she kept her eyes downcast, despite being desperate to look at his face in greater detail.

“What can I do for you, my Prince?” She asked meekly. 

“Come with me,” he replied bluntly and turned, striding down the wide and brightly lit corridor toward the rooms that had been prepared for the two visiting royals. 

At the door to his room he pushed it open and stepped back to allow her inside first before following and closing the door tightly behind the two of them. The sound of the latch clicking into place made her heart pound, she'd never been alone with a man before, she'd always been accompanied by her ladies or sisters but now she was alone in the guest wing behind a closed door. 

She stood in the centre of the main room, a fire burned merrily in the grate and the Prince’s trunk stood open at the foot of the bed. She looked up at him from under her lashes and caught sight of his deep indigo eye watching her. 

“Wh-what can I do for you?” She asked again, he'd catch on pretty quickly she wasn't part of the serving staff if he asked her to do much more than pour a glass of wine. 

“I'm in need of some relief,” he said softly, his left hand moving instinctively toward the laced fount of his trousers and his fingers twitched.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, her eyes following the movement of his hand before snapping back to his face. 

“I don't understand your meaning, my Prince,” she said softly, although she was fairly certain she did. 

She had been raised her entire life in the safety and beauty of Highgarden, her innocence protected at all costs and her exposure to men limited as far as possible, but she still knew what men and women did together in the privacy of their bed chambers. 

“The journey here was long and difficult and my brother is a terrible travelling companion, so before I meet with your sweet lady this evening and make dull small talk for hours I need you to get on your knees, open your mouth and suck my cock,”. 

A shiver crawled across her body, she'd never been spoken to like that before and after the initial shock of his crass words she found herself excited by them. But while his words were exciting the reality of what he wanted was frightening, she could tell him who she really was and face the consequences of running around dressed as a servant and tricking a prince or she could do what he asked and face any additional consequences of sucking his cock and having to make dull small talk with him later. 

“Did you hear me?” He demanded, his voice harsher now, “get on your knees, I've got no time for your wide-eyed innocent act,”. 

“But, my Prince, I've never-,”. 

He cut her off mid-sentence, anger flashing across his face. 

“Get on your knees,” he hissed through clenched teeth. 

The anger on his face and in his voice sent a thrill up and down her spine, making the tips of her toes and fingers tingle with anticipation. 

Slowly she lowered herself to her knees, the thin and rough fabric of the dress rubbed uncomfortably on her knees and the cold of the stone floor seemed to soak into her skin like water. 

“So you do understand, stupid little slut,” he muttered, moving toward her while unfastening the laces of his breeches. 

She watched with wide eyes as he pulled his cock free from the fabric of his trousers and pumped his hand up and down the thick muscle. By instinct her mouth filled with saliva and she felt a rush of wetness and heat between her thighs. 

“Open your mouth,” he commanded. 

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip before doing as she'd been told, parting her lips and teeth as he came to stand directly in front of her, the head of his cock now bobbing directly in her eye line. There was a bead of clear fluid slipping from the thin slit at the head, she fought the urge to lean toward and lick it up. 

The head of his cock was a dark red colour, completely in opposition to the alabaster white skin of his hands, he wrapped his fingers around the base and squeezed. 

“Keep it open,” he said as he angled the shaft toward her lips. 

This was her last opportunity, the very last second she could back out, tell him who she was, run screaming from the room but instead she relaxed her jaw a little and allowed him to push the head of his cock into her waiting mouth. 

His own mouth dropped open in a soft moan as the wet heat of her mouth enveloped his aching cock. He pushed his hips forward, forcing as much of himself between her lips as she could take, the soft, slick slide of her tongue on the underside of his shaft made his toes curl up in his boots. 

Her hands went to the front of his thighs and she braced her open palms against the leather, her fingers moulding to the shape of his lithe legs. He could feel the heat from her hands and the gentle curl of her fingertips through the fabric of his breeches. 

He drew back a little, feeling the warm suck of her soft mouth, he pushed one hand into the soft tangle of her hair and gripped. 

“That's it,” he breathed as he pushed forward again, “take it,”. 

Holding her head steady he pumped his cock between her lips, very quickly he was soaked from root to tip with her saliva and he watched transfixed as it slipped down her chin and wetted the rough fabric of her dress. 

Tears were forming in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks as he fucked her mouth. The musky and masculine smell of him filled her nose as the salty taste of his bare skin on her tongue made her head spin. 

Part of her was disgusted, she was a lady and possibly a future princess but she was on her knees getting her mouth fucked bya man who thought she was a servant. A much larger part of her thought this was the most erotic thing that could ever happen, her cunt was pulsing with the rapid beat of her heart,  she wanted nothing more than to shove her fingers between her legs and bring herself to completion, or even better, take Aemond’s fingers and use them. 

“You cock hungry little slut,” he hissed as he forced his cock deeper than any thrust before. 

She choked, feeling her body suddenly gag at the intrusion so deep into her mouth. She tore herself away from him, gasping for breath. There was pain where he was clinging onto her hair, pulling it hard between his lean fingers. 

“Too much for the little whore?” He sneered, cold laughter on his beautiful face. 

She nodded as he brought the hand that wasn't still tangled in her hair to her cheek and brushed away her tears. 

“Finish me off and you'll be free to go,” he said, pulling her back to him and pressing the head of his cock against her lips. 

She opened her mouth willingly and allowed him to continue, pumping faster but not as deeply as before, he began to pant and groan at every pass of her wet lips. 

“Fucking take it,” he panted, “take it, take it,”.

With a final shuddering, stuttering thrust she felt his cock kick in her mouth before her tongue was flooded with salty, bitter fluid. She kept her mouth closed around his shaft as his seed escaped between her lips and dripped onto her chest. 

“Swallow it,” he whispered, unable to take his gaze from her dripping mouth. 

He watched as her throat bobbed and she swallowed his remaining seed before leaning back and gazing up at him. Her cheeks were marked with the tracks of her tears and her mouth and chin were wet with his spend and her own spit. The tip of her tongue appeared between her lips and gathered a drop of him before disappearing again between her used lips. 

Aemond's cock was now rapidly softening and she watched with fascination as the long, thick muscle seemed to retreat back toward his body, the hot, round head disappearing under a hood of skin. 

He tucked his cock back into his breeches before reaching down and brushing his thumb across her lips, his touch surprisingly tender. 

“You can go,” he said bluntly before stepping away from her and turning his back. 

She sprang to her feet and dashed to the bedroom door, yanking it open and not bothering to close it behind herself as she raced toward the sanctuary of her own rooms. The soles of her riding boots seemed to boom on the hard stone floor and she believed as if everyone in the castle would hear her desperate escape. 

Although she kept her head down and didn't acknowledge anyone she passed she felt as if she'd been branded across the face with the awful names he'd called her. Surely everyone she passed knew what she'd just been doing. 

Her heart was thundering and her cunt pounding, the sensations she'd never felt before were making her head spin. Once she was in the safety of her own room she threw herself onto the bed and drove her fingers between the slick lips of her cunt with an urgency she'd never known. She bit into the feather pillow as she brought herself to orgasm within moments of touching the throbbing and engorged pearl between her legs. 

She lay panting on the bed, the smell of him still clinging to her like perfume, now mixing with the smell of her own arousal. 

Her ears still burned with the names he'd called her, she should feel humiliated and insulted but instead she longed to hear those names again. She longed to taste his cock again and then to explore his body, to take time to undress him, observe him and touch him. She wanted him to do the same with her, call her names, strip her naked and explore her virgin body without restraint.

When her maidservant arrived to get her dressed for dinner she could barely lift her head from the bed. She wanted nothing more than to hide under the sheets and touch herself again and again while images of the prince flashed through her mind. 

She was scrubbed clean in the bath, her hair washed and treated with sweet smelling oils. Her maidservant noted the bruises where she'd been thrown by her horse, but the marks on her knees were harder to explain away. 

She was dressed in a gold and green gown embroidered with roses, the usual soft cotton and silk felt like sand abrading her skin. She insisted her hair be styled in the same way it had been when she went riding, in case the Prince didn't recognise the lady he was forced to make small talk with. 

She waited by the door to the great hall, the princes had been announced and seated, then her father and his wife, her siblings next and finally it was her turn. Her name was called and she stepped into the hall. The room was full of the great and good of the Reach sitting on the tables that filled the room, at the top table, positioned above the others on a dais sat her family and Prince Aegon and Aemond. 

She looked directly at Prince Aemond as she walked toward the top table. There was a flicker of recognition followed by a moment of complete horror before he took back control of his face, a mask of neutral passiveness dropping over his features. She took her seat between the prince and her young sister. 

“My Lady,” he greeted softly. 

“Prince Aemond,” she replied.

“Prince Aegon,” she added, leaning around Aemond to address his brother who only nodded in acknowledgement, he was swaying gently in his seat and his eyes were glazed over. 

Aemond could have throttled his older brother for being drunk before the meal had been served. 

“It's a pleasure to meet you my Lady,” Aemond said softly, drawing her attention back to him. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” she replied politely, “but I do hope my small talk doesn't bore you,” she added, dropping her voice so only he could hear. She enjoyed the look of mild panic that crossed his face before she turned to speak with her sister. 

As the food was served the noise levels in the hall increased and she felt able to return to speaking with Aemond without being overheard. 

“How have you found Highgarden so far?” She asked. 

“Most accommodating,” he replied, taking a sip of rose wine. 

“Please forgive me if this question is indelicate,” she started, running the tips of her fingers up and down the thin stem of her wine glass, “if we're to marry, do you intend on taking your pleasure with the servants or your wife?”. 

The hand holding Aemond's wine goblet visibly shook before he placed it back on the table. He cleared his throat and turned his eye to the woman beside him.

“I would take my pleasure nowhere but my wife, and she would take a great deal of pleasure with me,”. 

“Because if I were your wife and found you'd been sticking your prick in the serving girls I'd bite it off,” she said as softly as possible.

Aemond cleared his throat again and gave a small inclination of his head. 

“Understood, my Lady,”.

After the meal there was music and dancing. As expected of her, she danced with her father and her brothers. She'd expected to have to dance with Prince Aegon  as well but he was too drunk to stand straight let alone follow the steps. Aemond, on the other hand, was everything a prince should be, dancing with her step mother and sisters before asking her to dance. 

The music changed to a fast paced peasant tune that meant they needed to dance in a small circle of others before being paired off. Once alone and moving around the floor they were able to speak again. 

“I just want you to know,” she started as she stepped around him, before coming to face him, their toes almost touching, she looked up at him, taking in the curve of his lips and a sharp shape of his chin, “the way you spoke to me, when you thought I was a serving girl made my cunt ache,”. 

She went to twist away from him to continue the dance with the man beside him but he caught her hand and held her, letting her twirl around him again. The line of dancers they were part of muttered and tutted as they scrambled to sort themselves without the Prince and his lady. 

When they were face to face again Aemond held her still, placing his hands on her waist. 

“When you are my wife, it will be my utmost honour to make your cunt ache every day,” he breathed before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on her cheek before adding “my slut,”. 

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine and settled deep in her belly, making her cunt throb again. If she really was a slut she could drag him away somewhere quiet and make him repay her in kind for earlier but she was a lady, and he was prince and they were in a room full of gossiping courtiers. 

“Is that a formal proposal?” She asked as he straightened. 

“I think it is,” he replied, a small smile turning up the corners of his lips. 

“Then I accept,” she said, before twisting around him again in time with the music. 

The other dancers had moved on, leaving the two of them in their own space on the floor, undisturbed by anyone else. The swirling dancers around them made it feel like they were the only two people in the room, trapped by a colourful snow storm. 

Aemond didn't care that he wasn't in a position to officially offer marriage to her yet, his meeting with her father hadn't straightened out all the details but suddenly the dowry, the lands and the titles of their future children didn't matter anymore, these details were nothing compared to how badly he wanted to take her to wife. 

The song ended in a final flourish and the dancers clapped and called out requests for the next piece of music.

“Another dance? I certainly prefer it to small talk,” she teased with a smile as the music started again and the dancers around them took their places. 

“And is there something else you’d enjoy even more than dancing?” he asked before bowing to her and offering her his hand. 

Her neck flushed with heat as she took his hand and the two of them moved in a slow circle. 

“There are many things I enjoy more than dancing, my Prince, and I suspect you’ll show me a great many more,” 

For the rest of the night Prince Aemond danced with no one else and while it certainly earned some raised eyebrows from the more modest members of the Highgarden court neither Lady Tyrell or Aemond could bring themselves to care. They only had eyes for one another and as they danced the rest of the world seemed to melt away. 

At the top table Lord Tyrell watched his daughter and the prince with great interest. He was thinking he might have saved himself 9 months of bartering, letter writing and hand wringing if he’d just invited the prince to visit in the first instance. 

“They make a fair couple, don’t they?” his lady wife asked from beside him.

“When I met with him this afternoon I’d never have believed he could be so taken with her,” Lord Tyrell said, “he was so cold I didn’t think he could look at someone with anything other than contempt but she seems to have won him over,”. 

It was the small hour of the next morning by the time the music and dancing ended. Lord Tyrell and his lady had gone to bed hours before but the revelry had continued. Prince Aegon had staggered from the table and made toward a door at the side of the hall, he’d only made it through the door before tripping on his feet, falling on his face and deciding to stay there. 

As the musicians played their final notes prince Aemond kissed the back of his lady’s hand, looking up at her and smiling. 

“Until we meet again, my Lady,” he said softly, she opened her mouth to reply but he pulled her toward him, bringing his cheek to hers, his lips touching the shell of her ear, “my whore,”.

additional A/N : this has the potential for a part two if anyone's interested? Just putting it out there, letting the universe know.

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: To Make me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: To Make Me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: You bought a life-size puppet in terrible condition and restored it. But now it doesn't want to let you go.

For Horrorfest request:

Might be cheesy, but Scaramouche haunted puppet for horrorfest? Maybe reader inherits an uncannily lifelike doll, or finds him as an antique?

Word count: 1156

notes: yandere, puppet shenanigans

“He’s creepy,” your friend says. Her nose crinkles and she puts a hand up as if she can ward away whatever haunting abominations she imagines must be inside the doll, waiting to slither through her nostrils. “And weird,” she continues. “And broken.” 

The doll has colorful blue hair and most of his strings are missing; one of his eyes is missing its pupil and an arm is cracked, a jagged wound that goes all the way to the fingers. If the doll were to be lifted, the damaged pinky on that arm would probably come right off--maybe the forefinger, too. He’s dirty and wearing only some cast-off shirt, itself probably too damaged to be sold by the secondhand store. 

Your friend moves on, eager to head to the second floor where all the nice, expensive secondhand goods are kept, often behind glass cases so they don’t get damaged by looky-loos.

But you stay where you are.

Because the moment you took one look at the damaged life-size puppet propped up at the back of the store, in the same pricetag-less limbo as piles of tupperware with no lid, ripped books and ugly dolls missing arms, and your heart swelled. 

“He’s perfect.” 

--

The pinky on the damaged arm did come off before you even left the store, but you were able to salvage the original forefinger. The pinky, sadly, couldn’t be repaired--but you made a new one using the original as a mold and unless you’re staring quite intensely (which to be fair, you often do, when working on the puppet) you wouldn't be able to tell that it’s not original to the hand. 

“I’d like to keep all your original parts as much as I can,” you murmur in the direction of the puppet, currently propped up on a chair you’d dragged into your workroom for the sole purpose of letting him have somewhere to sit while you worked. “You really are exquisite, you know? I can’t believe someone let you get into such rough shape.” 

You sigh, lamenting the treatment of such  a unique piece of craftsmanship, and place the finishing touches on the puppet’s repaired eye. The pupil needed to be filled in with new material but you went ahead and refreshed the iris of both eyes to make them look newer. 

“Good as new, see?” You hold up both repaired eyes to the puppet, but realize your mistake when you’re greeted with a prim looking puppet with two black holes where his eyes should be. 

“Oops.” You carefully slide the eyes back into the socket, fiddling with your finger until they slot right into place. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking. There!” You grab the magnifying mirror from your desk and hold it up in front of the puppet. “Now, see? Much better.”

It took a few months of work, but the puppet was just about restored, in your view. You’d even bought a new outfit for him, a simple white blouse with ruffles and plain trousers. It wasn’t exactly what you imagined he might have worn originally, but that was fine. 

“I’m glad I found you,” you say, to the puppet--and to yourself. “I’ve had a really nice time working on you!” You hum to yourself and start tidying up your work bench. “Now all that’s left is attaching your new strings, and I can have you picked up.” You smile, to yourself, to the puppet, to no one in particular. “I can’t believe that antique shop gave you away for free--they had no idea they were sitting on such a rare item!” 

But you, who repaired dolls and the like for a living, immediately knew what the puppet was worth; and who to contact as soon as you were able to get it home, as you knew a friend with an antique shop that took special requests, and he had a particularly wealthy customer who was dying for one of these rare life-sized pieces. 

The puppet with freshly painted eyes stares back at you and says nothing.

--

Something is sitting on your chest. Something heavy and cool to the touch. 

Sleep paralysis?  It wouldn’t be the first time. You did sleep on your back, after all, and your nights were sometimes restless. 

But you open your eyes without trouble, and the sensation does not go away. It takes a few moments, blinking in the dark, to realize who (no--what) is sitting on you.

It’s the puppet. 

Freshly painted eyes stare down at you, a face framed by the carefully sewn-in hair. In the dark, you can’t see the wood grains of his skin or the repair marks that you’d buffed until smooth. All you can see is his human shape, the gleam of glass eyes. 

“What--” you say, before a wooden finger presses to your lips.

“You were going to sell me.” It’s the puppet--the puppet is speaking.

You nod, terrified, every nerve in your body inflamed.

This can’t be happening, and yet it is. 

“Why?”

Your lips are dry and you stutter out an answer, hoping to wake up from this dream at any moment. But the more time goes on, the more you realize that you’re living in reality. An awful one, but reality all the same.

“I-I needed the money, you… you’re worth a lot.”

There’s a sound that comes from the puppet’s wooden throat, but you can’t quite place it. 

“You can’t sell me,” he says, simply. If you weren’t sure that you’d lost your mind, you might say that he sounds upset. Not just angry, but--hurt. 

“I-I won’t.” You swallow. “Just um. Get off me and I can…”

“No.” The glass eyes bore down on you, and you wish your eyes weren’t becoming accustomed to the dark. It was better not to see the cool stillness in them, unmoving, unblinking.

It’s then that you notice the strings.

Not on the puppet--but on you. 

The strings are wrapped around your wrists, tight, pinching into the skin. When you look up you see he’s attached them not to a marionette control bar, but to his own fingers. To himself. 

He raises his repaired pinky and your wrist goes along with it--too fast and harsh, nearly flopping over your face.

”Ah.” He regards your flopped appendage with curiosity, before simply lifting it himself and placing it back on your chest. “Well. I’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.” 

He leans forward, pressing his weight down on you, until his face was close enough that you could spot your own work; spot the little fine details in the paint, the grooves of his wooden flesh, the way his hair fell in a certain manner thanks to the placement of your carefully created knots. 

Oh, you thought, as his face came closer to yours, as he kissed you with puppet eyes wide open and wooden lips stiff. 

The paint on his lips needed to be touched up. 

[diejager]

I saw something about Victorian COD so hear me out-

Victorian Price in the fanciest suit

I'm sorry but that man would be so hooooooooooot as a Victorian gentleman, it fits his vibe

p.s. Happy 2024!!!!!!!

I got to this 3 months later… Happy belated new year 😅

Cw: flirting? Price being a gentleman, older man/younger woman, established relationship, tell me if I missed any.

Your father’s business parties had always been boring, they were a chore for you to keep a perfect facade to the public, the frail yet strong lady of the house, donned in ridiculously frilly dresses and thighs corsets. Your mother had fussed over it your entire life, her rough fingers, brought from her commoner background, had made her harsher in every manner to keep her title, for you to keep yours as a noble born into a world of riches. But the upkeep of it was useless when you had no part in it, forced to play a part in something you had no right to be a part of. 

Granted, you had your reservation, understanding that being on the same side as your father had it’s perks, the power his title - soon to be passed down to your older brother once your father passed - and his money. You didn’t necessarily depend on it wholly, you might live in his home, eat from his cooks and call for the maids and butlers he employed, but you had your studio away from home, somewhere in the city where you painted under natural light and sold portraits to people who paid you for a commission. 

It wasn’t as grand as being a merchant, to sell the luxuries most nobles sought - gems, fabrics, gold and silver - but it built you connections, your work passed from mouth to ear, one noble at a time, and one town at a time. You had your clientele and your father had his, you had an image to keep for something you worked so hard for, but to invest an equal amount of face and finesse in a snobbish party was draining. Fortunately, a few of your father’s work affiliates were regular clients at your little studio, sending letters to you months in advance to organise dates for you to paint them, it varied between one and a few months.

Your favourite was a British merchant company, lead by one bear of a man that you knew well, managed by three - a kind-hearted brit with beautiful skin, a boisterous Scot with his unusual haircut, and a broad and rugged man who hid his identity under a fearsome mask - other you were well-acquainted with and advised by a strong headed woman too advanced for your era. John Price was his name, a man a decade older than you, but treated you kinder than any man had before him, a gentleman in a beautiful suit and slacks, a red shirt and waxed shoes. He - coincidentally - matched your attire, your frilly, red chemise with a high and bowed collar, the sleeves long and rumpled in waves of red silk, waist high pants that hugged your body the same way your mother’s corset hugged her form and slick shoes that shone under the high chandeliers. 

“You seem bored, love,” his soft and baritone voice never failed to make you shudder, his hand on your back a reminder than he was with you.

He was always the gentleman, a man who worked his way to nobility, gaining a title and land through blood, sweat and tears. He was known for his trades, selling and shipping a large variety of items that some considered exotic simply because nobles hated interacting with foreigners, a kind of bred racism and xenophobia through generations to fear any uprising from their colonies and other countries. He was as broad as his company was known, every core member of it respected for climbing the echelon of society through hard work. Some purebred nobles might hate him for taking a title without being born into it, but none could object his craft, like an artist couldn’t do hate their canvas. 

“There isn’t much to do, is there, John?” You nodded towards your father, knowing that he was observant enough to see the slightest of movement, “My father is… he loves bathing in luxury, in the popularity his name brings.”

He hummed, a low rumble from his throat, his eyes narrowed almost threateningly, but you knew the amused gleam in his eyes. You had years to get to know him, once an occasional client - a man who stumbled into your studio wanting to let a newly risen artist a chance to paint him, admiring your work for the smooth and confident strokes - who brought his art trade to you, now a trusted friend, someone you were blasphemously closed too for someone your age. 

Your friendship hadn’t lasted long, the constant coaching from Kyle and Johnny, the silent push from Simon and the proud smile from Kate had both of you meeting halfway, throwing you into his open arms and fooling around at the back of your studio until John could take you away to marry.Eloping and always sounded interesting, you weren’t needed at home, your father had an heir and your mother had your younger sister to worry about.

“He flaunts it foolishly, yes,” he agreed, raising the cup to his lips, tipping it until the champagne flowed down the glass rim, “But we have a contract, one I intend to uphold until he complete his end of it. And I met you.”

He turned to you, a tender smile hidden under his beard, his stormy blues softening as he peered down at you, adoration gleaming in his eyes. You wished you could kiss him, to grip him by the collar and pull him down to press your lips against his course ones, to kiss him deeply and show him the love you felt for him. 

“I would, love, but we’re in public,” had you spoken out loud? It seemed you did if John answered you, his chuckles shaking his shoulders, “Would you come home with me once I’ve finished my business?”

“Of course, John.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter II

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!reader

Summary: You get invited to Frank's apartment again days after he gave you your first kiss. After a long makeout session, you rush to get to the bonfire and enjoy a night with your group of friends and even more of Frank's company

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), cursing, drinking, dry humping, brief mentions of masturbation

Author's Note: It's finally here! I'm SO so sorry for the wait on this chapter! I've been working full time at my part time job and it's been crazy busy!! Thank you for being patient :) Oh! We have a taglist now, so if you want to be added, just let me know! As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 6.6k+

Previous Chapters: I

Ever since that afternoon when Frank gave you your first kiss, it’s all that’s consumed your mind. It’s been difficult to focus your attention anywhere that isn’t the image of his puffy lips, swollen from your kisses, that has been ingrained in your head. You’ve been spacing out more often—even softly tracing your lower lip with your finger to try and relive the memory of his tongue brushing your skin.

You’ve even let your mind wander off its leash at work. Your coworker rips you from your thoughts by calling your name and you look up with wide eyes. She smirks when she sees your frazzled expression and asks what’s on your mind. You flip through excuses in your brain before stumbling out an “It’s a good day?”

Your voice twists into a question at the end, obvious that even you weren’t sold on your words. She shoots a skeptical look your way before walking away from the front desk, leaving you to sit once again in your thoughts about Frank. Beams of sunlight pour through the glass windows at the front of the building and the heat on your face reminds you of his warm touch. You let your eyes close for a moment and you swear you can feel his long fingers curling behind your jaw.

Suddenly, a chime sounds out and your eyes shoot open, quickly facing the front door as you expect to be met with a client’s face. There’s not a single person in sight though, and you glance down at your phone and see its illuminated screen. There’s an alert on the display and as you pick it up to unlock it, you notice it’s from your close friend.

“I’m picking you up at 6 right?”

Your eyebrows pull together, trying to remember the topic of the conversation that she’s starting back up again. As your eyes scan the earlier messages on the screen, it clicks for you. The bonfire.

Every few weeks your friend group makes plans to go out and do something fun together. With busy lives and conflicting schedules, not to mention the range of ages, it’s not always easy to reconnect and make time to be with each other. But months ago there was a collective agreement to make the effort of seeing one another more often than not. It was something you loved, being able to be in the good company of everyone you cared for.

Admittedly, your favorite part of the group hangout was watching as the rest of them enjoyed themselves. Smiles thrown on their faces, laughter roaring out when someone cracks a joke, even comfortable silences—it brought you so much joy to witness. However, due to your more reserved nature and how you passed on drinking each time, you felt more like a bystander; always watching them let loose and wishing you could do the same.

“Yes pleaseee”, your thumbs press on the glass, typing out the message on the digital keys. As you hit the arrow to send the text, another message shows as a banner across the top of the screen.

“You wanna come over?”

It’s from Frank this time. Sinking your teeth into your lip in an attempt to stall your smile, you glance at the clock on the wall. Unfortunately, no amount of wishing makes the thin, red hand pass the black numbers any faster. With a quiet sigh, you begin to type another text.

“I get off in an hour. You’re still going to the bonfire tonight right?”

You anxiously tap your finger along the side of your phone, watching the little bubbles move as an indicator that he’s typing. Frank was the main reason you went to these monthly bonfires, and the idea of him not showing is certainly enough to make you consider twice about going.

“Yeah. Just wanted to see you before then.”

As if right on cue, your heartbeat speeds up when your eyes scan across his words. You don’t even try to fight the grin that grows on your face this time. It’s only been a few days since you last saw him, since your last kiss, but you’ve been texting him each day in between. The conversations have always been light, slightly flirty on his end, but you’re thankful Frank never pressures you to do anything.

Oftentimes you find yourself still in disbelief at how this all happened. Frank’s incredibly patient with you and has reassured you many times that this is all your choice. Hell, he hasn’t even asked for you to come over again until just now. Maybe he was trying to keep the distance to not overwhelm you?

But he does want to see me, the giddy, although nagging, little voice in your head reminds you. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts, you sigh gently before texting him that you’ll drive over to his apartment after you get off. He replies back almost instantly.

“Can’t wait.”

You force yourself to drop your phone and not reread his message multiple times. It wasn’t a habit you normally had, but it became ever so prevalent with his messages. You pictured what other thoughts could be behind his often short texts and that wasn’t particularly helpful while you’re still on the clock.

The minutes felt like centuries as you sat at the desk. No amount of phone calls from curious customers or coworker gossip could act as a catalyst and make the time pass faster. You almost feel bad for being mentally checked out, but with something as good as this planned after you left, you really couldn’t help it. With your chin in your hand as you barely hold yourself up, you take one last hesitant glance at the clock. Two minutes left.

The second the time flips to the nearest hour, you’re clocking out; you’re thankful it was a slow day and you could leave right on time. With a shout over your shoulder and a wave goodbye to your coworker, you walk out the door and straight to your car. You don’t even put the GPS on–you have the way to his house memorized after the last time–and put on your favorite playlist to get yourself excited once again to see him.

Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad and it’s not long before you’re making the first turn into the neighborhood. You turn on each familiar street, winding the curves before you spot the black van with an empty parking space beside it once again. There’s no anxiety this time as you put the car in park, just excitement bubbling up and making your chest grow warm. You’re quick to grab your bag and rush up to the wooden door as you lock the car behind you.

You raise your hand and swiftly knock an upbeat tune on the door. It opens only a few seconds later, and there’s a strong arm winding around you as it pulls you past the door frame. A surprised yelp escapes you and his raspy voice sounds out with an apology.

“Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He closes the door behind you before walking towards the couch. The room’s not quite as spotless as it was last time but it honestly makes it feel more cozy seeing as it’s been lived in. He motions for you to follow him to sit down and this time you make sure to sit right beside him.

He asks about your day and the two of you begin a light conversation. It feels like he really listens to you; he’s nodding his head as you speak, leaning slightly towards you, and for once you feel like you’re being truly heard. After some back and forth, Frank begins to talk more as something you say sparks up a memory in his mind. He’s excited to tell you, obvious from how he sits up with a wide smile, and you listen to him as he gives you some background information that’s necessary to understand the story.

If you’re honest, you’re not really sure you’re keeping up with the whole picture he’s trying to paint you. You couldn’t really help it, memories of the only other time you were here beginning to rush through your brain. His laughter sounds out, breaking your concentration of the memory, and you try your hardest to focus back on him. Frank’s so animated when he talks: his hands moving in front of him, his facial features physically showing how he felt, and let’s not forget the voices of his friends that he puts on to get a smile out of you.

But eventually his words continue to drone on and on and you’re beginning to lose interest. It's no fault of his own, you just can’t focus on anything other than his mouth. The meaning of his words dissipate until they’re simply just noise to fill the background. Your eyes never leave his lips, watching as they curl around the words or stretch into a smile as he laughs. Before you can even think through the consequences of your actions, you lean forward and place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His words stop abruptly and you watch as he turns his head to face you. There’s a short pause before he’s got his arms wrapped around you, immediately pulling you into his lap. You settle on your knees, straddling his thighs, and he tugs you even closer until you’re sitting right between his legs.

“Did you hear anything I was saying?” he asks, tilting his head as he stares up into your eyes. His gaze is too intense and you find yourself focusing on his lips instead. “You hear a single word or… did some kind of switch flip just then?” He squints his eyes as he asks, his tongue brushing over his lips.

“I just… I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” you confess in a small voice.

“That is just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. You know that?” And queue the heat rushing to your cheeks. “Got any idea how sweet you sound?”

“Frank, c’mon,” you whisper, growing tired of his teasing.

“What, sweetheart? You wanna say somethin’ like that and not expect me to talk about it?” Again, you wish he would just shut up and kiss you already. “I’ve been on your mind that much? Must’ve been a damn good kiss for you to think about it days later, huh? Did you miss—”

You cut him off once more with your lips, your hands cradling his cheeks as you kiss him. You can’t even believe you did it, you never thought yourself the one to make the first move. Being desperate for his kisses is enough for the final push, you guess. His hands are quick to find your hips and you shiver at the touch, cursing yourself for being so sensitive. He pulls away when he feels your body’s reaction but never takes his hands off of you.

“That okay?” he asks, his eyes glancing up into yours. He gives another swift squeeze into your side before questioning with another “hmm?” You nod quickly, still reeling from the feel of him touching you there. Frank only tilts his head, silently requesting more from you.

“Y-Yes,” you stutter out, and he mutters the quietest, “Okay,” you’ve ever heard. His hand that’s wrapped around your hip begins to push you back and you’re quick to move with his movements. It’s a gentle push that has your ass grinding down onto the center of his jeans and you quickly grab hold of his shoulder to keep your balance.

“You okay?” he asks through a light chuckle. You nod and hum an agreement as you focus back on his warm touch that’s setting a fire alight on your side. He pulls you closer now and begins rocking you back and forth on his lap. The heat begins to travel down your tummy and nestles between your thighs.

Suddenly, Frank’s mouth is on your neck again and you almost feel lightheaded with how your body is trying to take in so much of him at once. He drags his kisses down your jaw, his hand never stopping the gentle pull and push of your hips. As you keep rocking on him, you swear you feel something bumping into you on each push down but you’re not very certain of anything at the moment.

His unoccupied hand smoothes up your side and his big palm grabs at your chest. A small moan gets stuck in your throat, resulting in a quiet whimper, as his long fingers squeeze into your soft skin. You break the kiss, your arms crossing each other as you reach for the hem of your shirt but his hands tenderly grab your wrists.

“You don’t have to…” he breathes shallowly, his breath fanning across your lips. His gaze locks with yours before he swallows thickly. He closes his eyes as he continues, “I’m sorry. I-I just got caught up in it.” You smile at the hesitancy in his voice and brush your thumb along his jaw.

“It’s okay, Frank, I wanna,” you reassure him. He loosens his hold, allowing you to continue your movements and pull your top off. His eyes move up with each new inch of skin that gets exposed and there’s this look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Once your head is clear of the fabric, you drop it onto the empty couch cushion beside you before moving to cup his cheeks in your smaller hands.

His lips are parted as he stares unabashedly at your chest. Brushing your thumb over the light stubble, you watch as he takes you in for the first time. Part of you is somewhat worried about his reaction, but his kisses were enough to leave your head clouded for long enough to push the anxiety away.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” is all he mutters before his hand pushes through your hair and he cups the back of your head. He pulls you into another kiss, his tongue wasting no time as it glides along yours. You moan against him sweetly as he lightly pulls on the strands. The sound must’ve spurred him on though, because he squeezes you over your bra once more. His insatiable fingers continue and your chest threatens to spill over the fabric cups.

You bring your hand over his and he immediately lets go of you. You shake your head with a grin, letting him know he didn’t cross any lines. Rather, you press on his fingers and make him hold you even tighter. He sighs into the kiss and digs harder into your smooth skin. Wanting to mimic him and clutch onto as much of him as possible, you push your palms flat to his chest and work them up towards his neck. You don’t even register the way you’re tugging at the neckline of his shirt until your thoughts slip and you mumble something against his lips.

“What was that?” Frank asks as he trails a finger down your cheek.

“Can… Can you take yours off too, please?” Your words come out as a whisper, your nerves acting up at the idea of asking that of him. He only smirks up at you before adjusting himself to sit up more against the couch.

“Guess that’s only fair, huh?” You watch as his hands come to the back of his neck, arms flexing as he pulls the shirt over his head and haphazardly drops it beside yours. When you see him shirtless for the first time, you’re pretty sure any thought you had–and ever will have–leaves your mind. Thick muscle wrapped in tan skin, broad shoulders that you’re certain would engulf you whole, and dark hair lining the skin under his belly button that trails below the waistband of his jeans.

“You alright there, kid?” he questions through a raspy chuckle. You hesitantly reach a hand out and lightly rest it over his heart. His chest is big and he fills your palm as his heart beats against your skin. You force your eyes to focus on his face again and he meets you with a confident smirk.

“You still with me?” His words are laced with a cocky tone and you don’t even give him the satisfaction of shrinking down again. Instead, you lean forward and wrap your fingers around his neck before kissing him harder than you ever have before. He grunts against your lips, his own hips bucking up as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

His hand wraps around to hold your lower back as he continues guiding your movements. With each roll of your hips into his lap, you feel his bulge against you. A wet gasp escapes you when you bump your clit on one particularly hard grind against him.

He feels harder underneath you each time you move, and it dawns on you what it actually means. He’s getting hard? Over me? The ever present voice sounds out again, words soaked in disbelief. Feeling more confident, you begin to buck your hips on your own as you grind faster against him. 

“Attagirl,” he praises, the kiss breaking once again due to his wide smile. He encourages your movements with one little word and his hand stops the push and pull, letting you move independently from him. He grazes his long fingers up your thighs before curling around, sliding his palms higher, and holding your ass in his big hands. Frank tilts his head to the side as he deepens the kiss and you feel the stubble scratching you, causing your hips to speed up of their own accord.

His bulge between your legs is warm–and admittedly thicker than you expected–which does nothing to help the burning at the pit of your stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before and Frank’s lips begin to wander, trailing down your neck. His teeth graze along your collarbone and your hands find their way to his hair. Brushing through the strands with a gentle pull at the ends, you push yourself harder into his lap.

He grunts before pressing his tongue flat to your skin, slowly licking his way up your throat and back to your lips. A curse slips from you and you shudder when you feel the cool air hit the wet patch he left behind. Cupping your cheeks in his large palms, he traces his tongue over your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into the soft skin. You whimper louder than you mean to, the sound causing Frank to tilt his head down and break the kiss. His forehead rests against yours as he pants gently, regaining his breath.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. You giggle at his exasperated tone from the makeout session and rub your hands down his neck to his shoulder blades. The muscle is noticeable despite him not flexing and your mind starts down a path that you’re certain would do no good right now. Images begin to flash through your mind: Frank on top of you, your nails scratching down his back, his fingers tightening around a headboard. You give yourself a mental shake and bring yourself back to the present.

“What time is it?” you ask softly. Frank raises his arm up, checking the little display of his watch. Once you catch a glimpse of the digital numbers, you perk up as your eyes go wide.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Frank looks up at you confusedly as you speak. “The bonfire…” you trail off, hoping to jog his memory.

“What? No, you just got here, c’mon,” he groans. His arms wrap around your back and he tightens his hold while resting his head against your chest. With a wide smile, you brush your palms against the short hair at the back of his head.

“Frank, I’ve been here almost an hour,” you explain through a chuckle. He hesitantly looks up at you, his eyebrows pulled together and confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Really? I didn’t even notice…”

“Spent all that time when I first got here just talking. It’s your fault!” You tease him and his features soften.

“Well how was I supposed to know I had all this waiting for me if I shut up?” He pulls you snuggly towards his body and you feel the heat coming back to your cheeks. You shake your head when he drapes your arm back around his neck, his charm threatening to work on you once again.

“I gotta get ready,” you explain but make absolutely no attempt to leave your spot on his lap.

“Do you have to? You look great just like this,” his fingers idly move up and down your thighs. You find his little touches comforting and the butterflies flutter to life at his soft spoken compliment.

“My hair is a complete mess, thanks to you,” you scoff, “and I need to change.” You’re still in your outfit from work and want to wear something more comfortable, and warm, for tonight’s get together. Frank pouts as you speak but begrudgingly lets go of you, his hand keeping a hold of yours as you stand. You reach for your shirt and quickly pull it back on over your head and there’s a great, big sigh coming from him once your chest is covered.

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you run a hand through your hair in an attempt to look halfway decent. Turning to say one last thing before you leave, there’s a sight that makes your eyes widen as a chill rushes through you. Your hands clasp together over your mouth as you gasp, embarrassment settling in. Frank looks up cluessely at you, until he follows your gaze to his lap.

There’s a damp spot on his jeans, almost unnoticeable against the dark denim, but it’s clear what it is nonetheless.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think I’d—I’m sorry,” you swallow thickly, trying to find anything to say to fill the silence. He’s hardly moved since he first glared down at the stain on his pants; his chest heaving and jaw clenching as he takes in the sight in front of him. The air is so thick you think for half a second you might actually choke on it. The next thing you see is the bulge in his jeans twitching to the side faintly.

You feel as though you might double over and grab your stomach for balance. “Frank?” you ask gently, but he continues to breathe roughly. You can’t even possibly begin to decipher what’s going on inside his head.

“Don’t ever gotta apologize for that,” he finally speaks up. His voice is gravelly and his jaw is clenched. He takes a long inhale and you can see him physically shake off the tension. “But yeah, you… You should probably change.” His normal cocky smirk is back in place and you smile, relieved.

Leaning over him, you press a brisk kiss to his cheek as a goodbye. You mutter one last apology against his skin before slipping out the door and shouting a farewell over your shoulder.

The entire car ride home you feel your skin buzzing. You’ve never felt so giddy in your life and you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to keep this excitement to yourself. Part of you wants to scream out from the rooftops just to let the energy out but you also haven’t exactly talked with Frank about if this is something to share outside the two of you.

The ride home is a total blur and before you know it you’re pulling into your spot at your apartment. Dropping your bag by the door, you make your way straight to the bathroom. After accessing the damage that Frank left with his greedy touch, you quickly begin to try and make yourself look slightly presentable.

Surprisingly, you’re almost ready when your friend sends the message to inform you that she’s arrived at your place. All you’re missing is socks, shoes, and jacket, which by your standards, is pretty good. You brush your fingers through your hair one more time, trying to get it to lie a bit neater. With one last glance over in the mirror, you shrug and decide it’s good enough given the time crunch.

Shoving your shoes on and rushing out the door with your jacket folded over your arm, you reach her car door and climb in. She begins to drive down the street, turning down familiar roads to the place where you usually gather for this sort of thing. She fills the car ride with her stories all about her day, her rude coworker, and the new guy she’s seeing. You nearly speak up when she gets to that last topic of conversation. It would be nice to finally be able to relate to something, but you know that what you and Frank have isn’t even serious. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you bite your tongue and keep quiet.

The sound of gravel crunching under the tires reaches your ears and you perk up when you realize you’re finally here. After closing the car door and walking up to the fire pit, you notice your other friends already gathered around it. They greet the two of you kindly and pull you into hugs. You smile through the welcoming and scan their faces to check for Frank, but he’s not there.

Minutes pass and you find yourself pulling your phone out of your pocket to check the time every now and then. You watch as the sunset sinks below the horizon. It paints the sky a dusty orange before mixing and settling into soft pastel streaks of light. You’ve been here over half an hour and still there’s no sign of him. You get the courage to speak up and ask about him.

“Is Frank coming? I know he’s not usually on time but…” There’s a small chuckle sounding out from someone already a few drinks in.

“He texted me saying he forgot it was tonight. Should be here soon,” one of Frank’s closer friends, Curtis, replies to you. That’s weird, you think as you pout and wrap your arms around yourself. You wonder why he gave that excuse and what must’ve come up to deter him from getting here. It does little use, but you try to shake off the worry and focus on being in the company of the people you love.

You’re laughing loudly at a joke when you hear some light cheers and quickly turn around at the sound. Frank’s walking up slowly, shaking his head as the small group rags on him for being late. He scoffs, scratching at the back of his neck before being pulled into a few hugs by his friends. You’d give anything to rush over and pull him into an embrace as well, but you decide to not just run with your emotions.

Once Frank is sitting back in an old lawn chair and everyone is officially accounted for, Curtis lights the fire. It’s tradition to wait until everybody is together before setting the wood alight. There’s a moment of quiet crackling but before long the flames are roaring to life. You’re the first to walk up to it, stretching your arms out and melting at the warmth enveloping you when suddenly, there’s a nagging feeling in your head and you look over your shoulder to satisfy the small itch.

Frank’s eyes are glaring into your side, his expression hard and difficult to pinpoint. He’s holding his chin up in his hand and his eyes slowly begin to rake down your frame before shooting back up to your face. The lights and shadows from the flames dance across his features and you swear you notice his nose scrunch up for a second when his teeth sink into his lower lip.

A shiver runs down your neck and it’s not born from excitement like before. He looks absolutely pissed and you force yourself to look back at the charred wood. It could have absolutely nothing to do with you, you try to reason with yourself. But you’ve always been one to look for a flaw in yourself when someone’s upset, and no amount of logic can take away that instinct reaction.

The only thing you can think of is the mess you unintentionally left on him. He seemed okay when you left, but maybe that really bothered him. Whatever it was, he was definitely more cold than he was just hours ago and you wish he’d stop staring and talk to you already.

You plaster on a fake smile when your friend asks what’s wrong and insist that you’re fine. You mutter some excuse about the air being chilly and she finds a spare blanket to wrap you up in. When you steal a glance at Frank, you notice him acting in complete opposite of how he was moments before. He’s back to all smiles, holding his chest as he throws his head back laughing. You feel some of your own tension leaving at the sound of his cackling but you can’t help but wonder why that cold gaze was directed towards you.

The sky eventually begins to settle into the comforting deep blue and the fire shows no signs of dying out. You notice the cooler of beer sitting open and decide to walk over and grab one. Glancing down at the label, you notice it’s not the one Frank introduced you to. With a mental shrug you crack it open and toss it back without thinking. The flavor hits your tongue and it surprises you how much smoother it is than your first drink.

You get lost in the overlapping chatter of conversations and begin drinking more now that you’ve found a taste that’s enjoyable. The time passes and you slowly feel yourself relaxing more as the weight of the bottle in your hand gets lighter. It’s not enough to make you feel without control of your actions, but it definitely is enough to give you a buzz.

Eventually the chill of the night breeze picks up, and you begin to notice some people cuddling up to their partners. A few cuddle on a picnic blanket lying on the ground, some sit in each other’s laps. Regardless, you feel that uneasy sensation of being a spectator rising up again. You fidget with the bottle in your hand as you try and not compare yourself to the other couples when the sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up.

Frank is sitting in his chair like before but this time his legs are spread wide apart. You lock eyes with him and he glances at his lap before looking back to your face. He runs a large hand down the length of his thigh, smoothing the fabric of his jeans, and it seems as though he’s presenting you a seat. You swallow thickly and make your way over to him, standing right at his knees.

“C’mon, it’s too cold,” he mumbles under the background noise of layered voices. You nod as he takes your hand, leading you to sit down on his legs. He’s quickly adjusting the blanket and draping it back over your shoulders before pulling your side into his chest. Your head aligns perfectly in the crevice of his collarbone and his body heat completely engulfs you. To say you’re happy you get to be close to him would be an understatement; you’ve been waiting for this all night but not sure if he’d make the move with an audience.

Each time he speaks, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek. His beating heart sounds out against your ear and you feel his fingers rubbing over your back. The warmth of his thick thighs underneath you remind you yet again of what occurred just a short while ago. You nuzzle your face into his shirt to hide from the thoughts consuming your mind, and he just continues talking while brushing over your side. Raising the bottle to your lips, you take another swig and swallow it down with a hum. Frank looks down at you and watches as you sit up higher against his chest to speak to him.

“Whatever’s in this is waaaaay better than what you gave me,” you whisper into his ear. Your voice isn’t slurred but it’s uneven in pitch, and he snorts–you’re pretty sure that’s your new favorite sound–before nodding.

“I’ll make sure to remember that, sweetheart.” His mouth is near your jaw and the breath fans over your neck. He didn’t even say anything sexual but that all-too-familiar warmth comes to life in the pit of your stomach again.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask in a quiet voice.

“Hmm?” His eyes never leave your lips.

“I missed you,” you confess. His lips spread into a wide smirk and you continue. “I know it’s stupid cause I literally just saw you but…” you trail off, staring down at your legs draped across his. “I got a little lonely when you didn’t show.”

“Yeah, about that…” He chuckles dryly and looks away from you. 

“What?”

“Let’s just say that, uh, the problem you left on my jeans was the reason I was late.” He turns his head in the direction of the tall flames and his words slowly sink into your mind. Heat rushes to your cheeks and your stomach does a cartwheel as new images flash in your mind: Frank’s long fingers working the button of his jeans open, his fingers curled around his cock, head tilted back as moans fall freely from his mouth.

There has to be a work stronger than mortified to describe how you feel right now. You still can’t believe you did that earlier and now paired with his confession? You wouldn’t be surprised if you melted into a puddle of your own embarrassment and slipped away. That also explains that his look from earlier wasn’t anger, but something much deeper and faceted.

“What’s wrong, kid?” He must’ve noticed you tensing up in his hold.

“You shouldn’t have told me that,” you mutter. You’re almost certain you haven’t blinked since he told you. Frank bursts into loud laughter, causing a few others to look over at the sound. You can’t handle the new pairs of eyes on you and you wrap the blanket around you tighter as you turn away from their curious expressions.

The night grows colder as the hours pass and you don’t even realize that the flames have died down until a few people begin to stand up and stretch, saying they’ve got to head home. You sit up and rub at your eyes, blinking slowly at the few empty chairs and people waving goodbye.

“You okay if I drop you home?” Frank speaks up as he watches you pull yourself back together.

“Are you sure? Didn’t you have some drinks?” you ask through a yawn, your eyes scrunching closed.

“Nah, saw you drinkin’ when I walked up. Just had water tonight,” he explains. 

He helps you stand up, saying your collective goodbyes to the group, before walking you to his black van. You watch as he walks around to the passenger side, opening the door for you and making sure your seatbelt is buckled before dropping the blanket back in your lap. You’ve never had someone take care of you like this and you have to convince yourself he’s just being a friend to not put more emotions in his kind gestures.

You mumble directions to him as he drives, sneaking glances at his profile as he stares out at the open roads. The lights from the lampposts shine through the window, the shadows dragging across his features as he taps his fingers along to a song playing faintly on the radio. He engages the clutch as he brings the car out of gear, coasting to a red light.

“I have another question,” you say in a raspy tone. It’s the one thing about tonight you still can’t figure out.

“Sure are full of ‘em tonight,” he jokes as he turns to face you.

“The thing you said earlier, about why you were late?” you don’t dare to actually say it aloud. “I left a few hours before the fire started.” Frank shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at the scarlet glow of the traffic light.

“Tried a cold shower, sweetheart. Didn’t work,” he says simply. You don’t even say anything in response, just turn away from him and look out your window to avoid an even more awkward conversation. His chuckle sounds out in the small cabin of the van and you hate how your pulse speeds up.

“Just another left here,” you say after a while, directing him to turn into the neighborhood of your apartment. He parks along the curb with a clear view of your front door. The night is officially over and you want literally any excuse not to get out of this close space with him.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask in a small whisper.

“You don’t ever have to ask me that, kid.” You’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning over and brushing your lips over his. Pausing for a second, you try to memorize the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips, before delaying the tease and pushing your mouth against his. He kisses back instantly and you suck his lower lip past your own. A not so stifled grunt escapes him and you smile knowing you can get to him in the same way he gets to you. You break the kiss and work your mouth down his chin and the underside of his jaw. He sighs heavily and suddenly places his big palm to your cheek, gently raising your face away from his throat.

“I can’t let you go any further,” he stares down at you. You sigh frustratedly between your teeth before sitting up with a groan. You pout at him and stare back at his lips, cursing the fact that you drank tonight.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s late, you should head inside,” he nods towards the direction of your door. You hesitantly get out and drag your feet as you walk towards the small porch light. You unlock the door and look over your shoulder to see his van still parked. It isn’t until you step inside and shut the door that you hear the motor rev as he drives off.

You stumble into your apartment, brushing your hand against the wall until you miraculously flip the light switch on. You squint your eyes as you flinch away from the bright light and shuffle your feet forward down the hallway that leads to your bedroom. As you empty your pockets and drop your bag to the floor, you make your way towards the connecting bathroom.

Another yawn overcomes you as you struggle with taking your top off, your head getting lost in the mess of fabric. The jeans come off next and you try your hardest to hold onto the countertop before inevitably losing your balance as you try to pull your feet through the cuffs at the end of your pants. You try to breeze through your routine of getting ready for the night and eventually you're sinking into the soft mattress of your bed.

Three consecutive buzzes sound out as your phone vibrates on your nightstand, the display shining in the dark bedroom. You reach for it blindly and see text messages from your friend that drove you tonight.

“Did you get home okay?”

“Since when do you drink?”

“Also what is with you and Frank?” Oh no. A fourth one comes in as your phone vibrates in your hand.

“You have to tell me everything!”

Taglist: @chellestrash @suitsofwo3 @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl

[1800-page-not-found]

Neuvillette x Gardener! Reader Headcanons-ish

I JUST HAD A FUNNY THOUGHT LOLOL SO

Also i love Neuvillette hes so cute

IT RAINS WHEN HE CRIES AND IT RAINS SO OFTEN THATS SO SAD i just wanna hug him :(

but heres a happy couple idea

edit:NOT GUILTY I MEANT NOT GUILTY. sorry to the people who have already read it lmao

It was by chance that a man had pressed charges against you claiming that you had sold him poisonous flowers.

You defended yourself in court so powerfully, and when you were found not guilty, he just had to meet you and applaud you personally.

You thanked him for the fair trial, and handed him a coupon for your flower shop.

It was scarce for him to have breaks, as crimes big and small were always happening.

He was working in his office alone as it rained in fontaine.

He noticed the flowers in the vase on his office desk were starting to die and wilt.

Looking at the time, he decided he could spare a moment to buy new ones to refresh his mind.

That was when he remembered your coupon (which he held on him at all times for some unknown reason to him)

"Is this the place?..." He walked in.

The door chimed as it brushed the bell signaling a customer.

You walked out of the back with an apron and a smile.

Ah! Had he come to use the coupon?!

You showed him a small bouquet of flowers which matched his aesthetic and clothes, offering half off with the coupon.

And just like that, he started to visit more often, each time with random excuses.

It was cute to see him make up excuses to visit you

Then one day, when he arrived, you handed him a lovely bouquet of red roses, confessing.

"I-Its on the house...and uh, will you go out with me?"

He said yes with a rather stoic face, yet on the inside, he was really happy.

During that time, it stopped raining and the sun shone brightly.

It was big news, I mean, the Neuvillette, in a relationship?

Many young couples idolized you, your healthy and rather cute relationship with him.

Months into the relationship, you move in together.

You have a garden.

One day, he arrived home to you tending to your garden, watering it.

"Ah, its been raining less these past few months"

(Its because he's happier now with you, thus he cries less.)

Suddenly, it started to rain.

You were really happy, saving the high water bill and labor.

Neuvillette had his face turned away from you, busy with something

(He thought of something sad and cried so the rain could water the plants.)

(He was thinking about you not being here with him)

(Which only made him want to find a solution to the prophecy of the people of fontaine turning into water.)

He's so cute I cant

The day you guys got married was the most sunny and least cloudy day of the history of fontaine.

HE'S SO CUTE.

I love him with all my heart.

[alonetimelover]

pairing: Harry Styles x booktuber!reader

summary: The internet speculates about whether Harry and YN are together. She admits to some hidden feelings to her best friend. He still cannot use his IG and buys any book that she recommends. Finally, something happens. But is it about them?

a/n: Second part of the booktuber!reader in celebration of 1000 of you following my little messy blog. i hope you enjoy it! love ya!

part 1 taglist

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 57 593 others

harryupdates HARRY and YN via her best friend's IG story.

view all 5 842 comments

hArrysbtch THEY ARE SO CUTE I LOVE THEM

hArrysbtch also, that best friend of yn is really putting them in the spotlight, isn't she?

⤷ harrysmoustache that's what i said! wasn't she also the one with them in italy???

⤷ hArrysbtch you think she shared those photos?

⤷ harrysmoustache yeah, it's all connecting nicely

harrysmylife i mean... that can be a couple but best friends as well. like, i sit like this with my male best friend

harrysfan39 his dimples...

harrysfan87 she's so beautiful... has anybody said it already?

——————————————————————————————

CELEBRITY GOSSIP

HARRY STYLES, BOOKS, AND LOVE FROM A YOUTUBE VIDEO

If you are wondering if this article's title is stating that Harry Styles is a taken man, you would be correct. Starting with the simple YouTube video posted by the channel of the name ynrecommends and ending with a yacht vacation near the coast of Italy and burning romance.

But let's start at the beginning. The booktuber from ynrecommends (YN YSN) did a little video of reading books that Harry Styles recommended during his interviews and so on. Because of the Harries (name of Styles' fandom), the video skyrocketed and gained hundreds of thousands of views in a matter of a few days. That's probably how our heartbreaker found the video, leaving a little comment and not forgetting to flirt with the author (we love it!). You could say the story of them began right in front of our eyes.

It was a few months ago, and throughout them, there were multiple crumbs left by the couple. Joined bookshop travels, appearances in YN's vlogs and other videos, and of course, THAT vacation on Harry's yacht.

As our source that is very close to both of them says 'the romance started late in their time of knowing each other, because of their both overflowing schedules and fear of ruining the friendship.' What is more, we didn't only get the words but also photos that clearly confirm the romance between the rock star of our generation and the indie booktuber despite YN's claims of 'being single and very happy with it.'

Is that how you are with your 'friends'?

What do you think is true, our sources claims or YN's words?

Source 74%

YN's words 26%

——————————————————————————————

Text messages between YN and her best friend

ynn🧠 my lovely, favourite best friend, i have a little, tiny question bestie🫦 i'm your only best friend maybe besides Harold...🙄 ynn🧠 yeah yeah, i know you like him, don't hide it buuuuut, back to my question... bestie🫦 yes yes, what's up? ynn🧠 i'm not accusing you of anything, i just wanna ask if you send somebody the photo album from italy? bestie🫦 remember that ig account we did in uni? i thought it would be a nice idea to turn it into a little photo diary. i put some of the photos there. i told you on the boat, like a week ago. why? ynn🧠 i forgot about it, im so sorry! but someone from that account must have seen those photos and sold them to that gossip magazine... whole internet thinks im harry's girlfriend. i got like 50 dms asking how much i paid him to be with me bestie🫦 fuck im so sorry, sweetheart! i totally didn't think about it. tbh, i kinda forgot he was famous while being there with you two ynn🧠 yeah, i forget about it whenever i see him and don't be sorry, baby! it's not your fault some of those people will do anything to gain even a little bit of money i only asked because harry's manager needed to know if any of our photos were hacked or somethin' bestie🫦 was harry mad about the article? ynn🧠 he said that after years of having bullshit having written about him, he got used to it. but i can see that it bothers him that he can't have a moment for himself bestie🫦 fuck, im gonna bake him some good cake as an apology ynn🧠 it's not your fault!!!! harry knows it bestie🫦 okay, but im baking something anyway and btw, that article isn't so far from the truth, is it? ynn🧠 what do you mean? bestie🫦 oh, come on! you two act like a couple whenever you're together! there must be something there ynn🧠 ... there's not, really. we never talked about it but just fell to that closeness as friends. you know how touchy i am with people that im comfortable with, he's the same. it just looks like we're a couple, but no bestie🫦 but you want more, don't you? ynn🧠 i value him too much as a friend to think about it

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, hArrysbtch and 251 382 others

yourinstagram first day on this fancy boat, and i was crawling (freaking scared to fall into the water) and in the last few days, i was swinging myself on this little hammock, crazy days, crazy

thank you harrystyles for putting it up for me, love ya my bff

view all 34 428 comments

harrystyles You ditched me for those books

⤷ yourinstagram they are literally my job

⤷ harrystyles You took 30 books with yourself. A seond suitcase just for them.

⤷ yourinstagram blah blah blah you took two guitars

⤷ harrystyles That's literally my job.

⤷ yourinstagram yeah, that's what i said

harryupdates brave move, yn

hArrysbtch i'm waiting (impatiently) for the next video

⤷ yourinstagram it's coming, it's coming. a little vid of italians recommending me their favourite books!

harrysmoustache not the little explaination of that on ephoto from that article 'i was crawling, cause i'm scared'

⤷ harrysmylife subtle but to the point

stylebabie 'my bff' i know she is cackling behind that little screen

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, yourbestfriend, harryupdates, annetwist and 18 201 383 others

harrystyles momento magico in italia

view all 482 381 comments

yourinstagram thankfully that photo was taken before me almost drawning

⤷ harrystyles i rescued you

⤷ yourinstagram if by rescue you mean laugh, panic and then dive and almost make me drown again, then yes, you did rescue me

jeffazzof Harry.

⤷ harrystyles Jeffrey.

⤷ jeffazzof Check the account.

⤷ harrystyles Oh.

hArrysbtch hsdfUHFJHLVBRIAP what the fuck ehat the fuck

hArrysbtch i am so confused right now

harrysmoustache you guys are playing with us

harryupdates wrong account, harry!

annetwist Bellissima 😍

harrysmylife the flower, the EARRINGS, yn, the cat... i cannot.... this man is a menace to the society

——————————————————————————————

hArrysbtch

liked by harryupdates and 3 402 others

hArrysbtch this video was worth the wait! yn is one of the best and realest youtuber out there. plus, harry filmed this episode for her so it's even better

view all 928 comments

harryupdates I loved it too! the little moments of them interacting behind the camera kept in the video were absolute gems!!!

⤷ hArrysbtch YES!!! it was so funny and wholesome

harrysmoustache harry's little 'i think you'd like this shot' during a moment when yn is walking down the alley.... soooo cute i love them

stylesbabie this is my first video of hers that i watched and i am so mad at myself. this is the best booktuber channel i've ever come across

harrysmylife yn interacting with Harry's italian friends, having harry translate the recommendations from people on the street and him just hyping her up... just so freaking cute

harrymylove i don't care if they are together or just friends, i just enjoy watching them be together, like, next to each other. it's so refreshing and lovely

——————————————————————————————

londonboyharry

liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 10 318 others

londonboyharry this is what I saw while walking around the park near my hotel in italy... Harry literally made yn stop mid-sentance and said 'wait, i need to take a photo of you.' i- i was melting and couldn't believe my eyes and ears

view all 2 307 comments

hArrysbtch he is so boyfriend

hArrysbtch like, he must be, come on

harrysmoustache i say i don't care if they are together or not. but i do. i so do. i want them together more than i want myself to find a partner

harrysmylife BEST FRIEND/COUPLE ON EARTH

harrysfan88 i love that we're all confused about them

——————————————————————————————

yourbestfriend

liked by yourinstagram, harrystyles and 34 028 others

yourbestfriend put those two in a room with books and that's what you get...

view all 5 301 comments

yourinstagram i was just looking through the atlas, come on

harrystyles And I was actually reading, not faking like some of us.

⤷ yourinstagram oh fuck off

⤷ harrystyles This is not so treat people with kindness of you.

hArrysbtch i love the fits so much

harrysmoustache this si so frustraiting

⤷ harrysfan49 why are you so obsessed with them? leave them be

⤷ harrysmoustache i just want to know if i can call them the best couple on the planet

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by harrysmylife and 32 482 others

harryupdates HARRY with a fan today in London!

view all 4 302 comments

hArrysbtch he's so cute

hArrysbtch wait, yn wore that t-shirt in her latest vlog

⤷ harrysmoustache sharing clothes????

harrysmylife he looks so cute, i want to put him in my pocket

stylesbabie the cardigan is back, guys

harrysfan87 i am the one who met him!

⤷ harryupdates how was it?

⤷ harrysfan87 magical! he stopped after walking out of the bookstore when i walked up to him. he had a bag full of books. i asked him what he was buying and he said 'oh, ehmm, i have crime and punishment, hamnet, emma and some Sally Rooney here'

⤷ hArrysbtch that guy is just buying anything yn recommends...

⤷ stylesbabie but none of it was in her italian vlog?

⤷ hArrysbtch yes, but those are the books from her 'summer to autumn reads' video

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 1 019 392 others

yourinstagram story in two acts... 🏡📚

view all 23 492 comments

harrystyles Scandalous.

⤷ yourinstagram Forgot you have sensitive eyes after a bad night sleep.

⤷ harrystyles I slept very well last night, thank you.

yourbestfriend 👀

⤷ yourinstagram 🫣

hArrysbtch WTFSAJFHOAUW no way

hArrysbtch this is confirmation, isn't it?

⤷ harrysmoustache i think so

⤷ harrysmylife but... we don't know if that really is harry

harrysmoustache she bold and she sexy

comment liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 234 others

jeffazzof Congratulations, YN.

⤷ harrystyles thanks jeff!!!!

comment deleted

⤷ yourinstagram thanks jeff!!!

⤷ harrysmoustache girl, we saw that!

——————————————————————————————

a/n: do we think yn and harry finally got together?

——————————————————————————————

📌: @daniellef89x @crazygirlinthisworld @ameerakane20 @golden-hoax @sleutherclaw

[my-castles-crumbling]

soup - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 614 - for @starchasersunseeker

Regulus sat at the cafe, staring at the laptop in front of him, willing words to magically appear on the screen. If only. It would make being an author much easier of he didn't have to....write.

He looked around the small restaurant, trying to find inspiration that clearly wasn't there when his eyes fell on a man a few tables away.

The man stood out not only because he was gorgeous - his tan skin and dark, messy hair made Regulus stare appreciatively for longer than was probably respectful - but also because of the book he was reading. Regulus's book.

It had just been released a few months ago, and Regulus was proud to say it'd actually sold a few copies. Four thousand, seven hundred-thirteen, last time he'd checked.

He felt a small surge of satisfaction to see the beautiful man reading his book that he'd put so much work and emotion into.

At least, until he saw the man scoff visibly at a page, looking almost disgusted.

He tried to stay at his table. He tried to focus on eating his soup and writing his story. But he felt inexplicably irritated at the man for scoffing at his pride and joy. So he stood and walked over.

"Good book?" he asked as he approached, trying desperately not to seem awkward. He didn't usually approach men in cafes.

He expected the man to say no, of course. But he was surprised when he looked up and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! God, it's great! And it's based on a true story! Have you read it?" His eyes sparkled behind his glasses as he asked, and Regulus felt his stomach swoop a bit.

"Erm...once," Regulus murmured.

"Don't spoil it, then," the man demanded, grinning. "But now I have someone to ask! How did you feel about this part?" He pushed the book to Regulus, who skimmed over the chapter he was on. "I just...I feel as if it's not realistic, you know?"

Regulus stared at him, then back at the book. "Not...realistic?"

"Yeah," the man nodded. "The main character, Arcturus? He really doesn't realize how much of a decent guy he is! And I just feel like he must know, at least a little!"

Regulus blinked, fighting to keep his mouth from popping open. Arcturus was based on himself. "Arcturus...he did a lot of bad things," he muttered, slowly sitting in the chair across from the man. "He...hurt people. Before he left his family."

"Right," the man nodded again, and Regulus felt almost disappointed at his agreement. But then he went on. "But...he learned, you know? And, don't spoil it for me, but, if his brother's a good guy, he's got to forgive him, right?"

Regulus sucked in a small breath. "I...well, I can't spoil it for you," he murmured.

"Well...he should," the man said, as if it decided the matter.

Regulus contemplated walking away for a moment. Keeping the whole thing a secret. The book, based off of his tumultuous childhood, his guilt at how he used to worship his parents, and his reconnection with Sirius when he'd finally gotten his head out of his arse, had been such a personal thing to create, that it felt insanely vulnerable to admit to this man that he'd written it.

But he was also drawn to him. To the man who saw him as good.

"Who's it by, again?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Erm..." the man flipped to the inside jacket, where Regulus knew his picture lay. "It's..." And then he looked up. "It's you?" he finished, looking awestruck.

Regulus chuckled wryly. "Sorry. I know you asked for no spoilers."

[astrid-sama]

What if a reader x carmilla but reader sold their soul to Carmilla as a show of love and devotion to her? Like either they were already dating, or they confessed and gave her their soul when she accepted.

(Hi, thanks for your request, I'm sorry it took me so long to write it, but I wanted to give context to your request)

Carmilla Carmine x fem reader

The first thing I thought of when I realized I was in hell was "what did I do to deserve it?", even today I can't give myself an answer, while alive I had always been told that to end up in hell you had to have accomplished horrible actions, but I had never done anything wrong; the only blame that can be attributed to me is my death, I was killed, due to my naivety, by what I believed to be the love of my life.

At first I was quite surprised by hell, I imagined it as a great chasm that descended to the bowels of the earth inhabited by sadistic demons whose aim was to make your eternal damnation an agony, but instead it was a large city and to make your eternal damnation and torment were not demonic creatures but other sinners.

When I had resigned myself to my eternal "life" of suffering, I met the person who made me feel like I was in paradise without ever having even seen the golden gates of heaven.

The first time I met Carmilla was during the extermination, I had recently arrived in hell and I didn't know that once a year the angels came to kill sinners.

I was about to be killed by an exterminating angel but then she came and saved me.

When, after having made the angel flee, she held out her hand to help me stand up and asked me how I was, I felt my heart skip a beat. I don't know exactly what Carmilla liked about me, but after that day I was no longer alone in hell, at first I found an acquaintance, then a friend and finally a lover.

Carmilla had introduced me to her daughters before we even got together, she was very happy when she saw that we got along well, in fact within a few months I had become their "second mother".

The day Carmilla confessed her love to me and asked me if I wanted to be her girlfriend was the best day of my life.

Our relationship was perfect and made me realize how different our relationship was from what I had had in the past, Carmilla was always kind and loving to me, she gave me black roses (my favorite flowers) because she wanted to and not as as a sign of apology for hitting me, she never had outbursts of anger because I went out with my friends or because I didn't answer her phone calls; and the more time passed the more my fear grew that one day all this would end, it wasn't often that I was able to express my love for her to Carmilla and I feared that if I wasn't able to show her that I would be hers forever she would get tired of me (like my ex who had finally killed me).

I began to think about the best way to show her my undying love for her and finally decided that I would give her my soul.

I had organized a romantic dinner at our house and asked Clara and Odette if they could leave us alone for the evening.

My heart begins to beat faster with anticipation when you hear the door open symbolizing Carmilla's return.

-Welcome back-

I said and Carmilla greeted me by kissing me tenderly on the lips.

-How was your day?-

-Good now that you are here with me, mi amor-

I felt my cheeks heat up at the cute nickname, oh how I loved when she spoke to me in Spanish.

-Come love, I gave you a surprise-

-Did I do something special to deserve a candlelit dinner?-

-Why can't I treat my girlfriend well? Come let's go eat-

The dinner was very pleasant and Carmilla's hand remained on top of mine the entire time.

After dinner, Carmilla and I sat on the couch so close our knees were touching.

-Carmilla, I wanted to give you a gift, since you usually give me gifts-

-Mi amor there was no need, you are enough for me-

Carmilla said and then kissed my hands.

-Of course there is a need. I wanted to give you something that could show you how much I love you and that I would do anything for you; I want to give you my soul-

I expected Carmilla to be happy, but instead the emotion I saw on her face was bewilderment.

-Mi amor, don't joke with certain things-

-I'm serious -

-Why do you want to give me your soul?-

-I want to show you that I love you and that I will love you forever and there is no better way to do it than to give yourself to you-

-Mi amor why do you think you have to prove something to me?-

-I I...-

I didn't know what to say, I wanted to show Carmilla that I loved her as she always did for me and I had believed that giving her my soul would be the best path, I wanted to avoid having doubts about our relationship, I wanted to avoid it ending up the way it ended with my ex because maybe if I had shown him how much I loved him he wouldn't have had any doubts about us maybe he wouldn't have killed me maybe...

-Mi amor please tell me what pushed you to do something like that, you know you can tell me everything.-

Carmilla looked very worried.-

When I was still alive I had a relationship, he was very possessive and wanted me to prove to him that I was his but I didn't do it and I ruined everything and in the end he killed me; I was afraid of ruining everything with you too-

-Mi amor possessiveness is not a sign of love, the person you were with before was toxic and if he had really loved you he wouldn't have killed you. I don't need you to give me your soul to love you, I just love you-

-Please forgive me, I didn't realize how toxic what I wanted to do was-

-It's not your fault mi amor, it's the fault of that bastard who made you believe that those things were normal in a relationship. Mi amor I love you more than my life, if you want I will always be by your side and I will help you overcome the wounds that your past reaction has left you.-

[obsessive-valentine]

hi i really love ur work can we have more yandere farmer content?

Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!Reader

What if darling found out about the farms dark secret, your kidnapper is much more cruel than you thought. TW Murder, Man-Eating Dogs, Throwing Up, very bad attempt at comfort (in-fact I wouldn’t call it an attempt at all -more like manipulation)

He was up on one of the pastures again, like every afternoon, pushing a wheelbarrow -spreading hay for the animals. It amazed you that he pushed the bails around with seemingly little effort. Once the barrow was blocking the shed door that was filled with grain for the animals you wanted to feed.

So you went to push it out the way but because it had already been filled with a particularly large bail you almost broke your back trying. It was one of the few times he’d genuinely laughed. You turned to the sound of his amused laugh in shock and saw him jogging to you to move the wheelbarrow for you then letting out a final chuckle opening the shed door for you “sorry love, that was inconsiderate of me”

You know it still takes a lot of effort for him by the way he sweats and grunts and falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow at night, but he makes it seem like a small feat. You turned back to the not so small calf you were keeping company, his mother grazing close by but comfortable with your presence so as the calf who you were there for when he was born a few months ago.

You stroked his nose admiring the adorable creature and cooing at him, you knew you would only have a few more months with him before he was sold. There was no use for him on the farm as you’d been told “as much as I like the fella he’d only drain supplies for no gain” -so when he is old enough he’d be sold to another farmer for breeding purposes or meat.

Today was tranquil, but just thinking that seemed to have jinxed you. There are always a dog or two around, each having jobs on the farm. So it wasn’t out of the ordinary when one of the larger livestock dogs ran past you headed for the tree line in the distance but when it started barking frantically and holding its ground like it was trying to scare off something, you were afraid a wild animal had stalked to close.

Whatever was out there wasn’t leaving and the mother cow seemed increasingly distressed by the commotion. You looked over to the pasture he was working on last, to see him tense up and look over to the fuss. You looked back at the distant tree line and saw a figure emerging slowly trying to manuver around the dog growling and barking warningly.

As soon as the farmer noticed that it wasn’t a wild animal causing the commotion, he dropped the barrow and ran down the field before hoping the fence, he grabbed your wrist and so harshly pulled you behind him you thought your shoulder popped out of its socket.

“The hell you doing here!?” He hollered over to the person in the distance “Can’t you read the signs?!” .......................

“recall your dog, this is the only way through” the intruder finally spoke with a demand, the way his hand tightened around your arm you knew that only made him angrier. But he did just that anyways.

With a sharp whistle the guard dog backed up but still lowly growling “You ain’t coming through turn back around and find a different route” he wasn’t shouting anymore but his voice was eerily dark. “You’ve got to be kidding me, just let me through man” the plea sounded yet again demanding which didn’t bode well for him.

He turned to you not turning his back to the intruder but enough to mumble “Go inside, don’t get nosey just wait for me to get back” he then let go of your wrist and watched you cautiously walk off. A sense of impending doom loomed over the farm but you followed his orders anyways and closed the door behind you.

...

As soon as the door closed you heard the barking start back up just now much more, the rest of the farm dogs must have made their way over. You became increasingly afraid he wasn’t going to handle this dispute well because you failed to hear him try recall the dogs, all you could hear was the trespasser trying to reason with him.

Until you didn’t hear any talking anymore but instead illegible shouting and struggle, the dogs now sounding more like rabid animals than protectors. You felt weak and your legs shook as you walked into one of the front rooms to peak out the window. ‘Don’t get nosey’ the warning almost made you turn around but curiosity won.

And when you pulled back the curtain just enough to see across the yard, you were sickened. Bile raced up your throat and couldn’t bring yourself to scream or cry but rather just stand there in shock as you saw the dogs in the distance rip at flesh of the now dead trespasser. You were glad you couldn’t see it clearly because your sure you would have fainted.

Broken from your trance when you saw the farmer leave the dogs to it and begin walking towards the house, to you. You ran to the toilet and threw up whatever you had, and then dry heaved further when you heard him enter the house.

You flinched hard when a cold hand rested on your neck slowly and roughly massaging it as you gagged, coughed and sobbed over the toilet “what did I tell you about being nosey?” His voice condescending and irritated, but not angry like you’d expected it to be. You began to sob out an apology still on the floor hunched over the toilet, afraid he was going to punish you in some way, again.

But he interrupted you before you could get out a full sentence “Shut it- you’ve already scared yourself sick” he sighed you heard him shuffle behind you as he sat on the bathroom floor with you “come here” his blunt exasperated tone hadn’t left but his hand now gentle attempted to guided you into his arms.

The closeness to the murderer set you off in a deeper panic, instincts telling you to run if you didn’t want to end up like that trespasser. But when you hands flew out to keep some distance between you both, he grabbed your face with one hand “You don’t want to be in the shed do you? I believe you’ve punished yourself enough, don’t make me regret not punishing you further”. You shook you head desperately and dropped you hands utterly powerless against him.

“That’s what I thought, last warning” his hands became gentle once again, one on the back of your head and the other on your back you sobbed onto his shoulder. But wanting nothing more than to kick, scream and bite, but you heeded his warning.

He ungracefully washed your face by cupping cold water in his hand and wiping it over your face, patting it dry with a near by towel “Had you listened to me we could have avoided all this” he lectured “I’m going to put you to bed early, I’ll clean everything up and from now on you’ll let me handle these ...problems, without causing trouble”

He scooped you up and took you to the bed, he drew the curtains closed to block the sun light and pulled the covers over you “let’s hope you learned your lesson” He grumbled before closing the door.

No matter how much you settled back in, years after this incident, nausea would overcome you for a few moments whenever he tells you to not be ‘nosey’. A dread you can’t explain.