#while its usually a rope that takes the hanged man

[yuuugay]

The Hanged Man Tarot, Auster Waiburg-Dove

@heromaker-if

[yzashaven]

𝐁𝐄𝐓 !

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ billionaire!scaramouche x reader

꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw content. reader gambling in a casino. rough sex. creampie. squirting. literally not proofread at all </3

꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ betting dollars upon dollars with a billionaire. surely a good idea! ...right?

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— i'm gonna need you all to forgive me for being away for a whole month and coming back with a half-assed fic </3 it's been really tiring but i'm doing okay! (for now)... i really do hope that you all enjoy this even though my writing is honestly a bit rusty now that i haven't written a single sentence in the month's long "break" i took. i love you all, thank you so so much for 1.5k !! 🤍 + thoughts on this new layout? :3

he was just another run-of-the-mill billionaire hanging out at casinos, local and private, for the ordinary people and the rich. you just so happen to be a regular at a specific casino and bar called the 'devil's temptation'. you spend a few hours of your day there every week or so, taking home stacks of your winnings home each time you go.

you were quite well known by the other regulars as a money magnet of sorts due to your high win rate whichever game you play, especially poker. your night was going on normally as per usual, well, until a man approached you.

"care for a game or two, pretty lady?"

☆★

"royal flush." yet another easy win on your part. you smiled at the man softly as you layed down your hand. he simply chuckles and looks at you lustfully, "huh, well played, indeed. though, why don't you say we make a... different type of bet this time?" he's being quite vague, you raise an eyebrow at him, "do you mind elaborating?"

a smirk from him as a reply, "accompany me to my mansion for the night, then you'll see." hesitant yet curious, you agreed. but how in hell would you have thought the said bet would end up with you getting fucked by the man named scaramouche?

★☆

"fuck...!" a loud whimper rips through your throat at the way he thrusted in and out of your sensitive cunt, you tried your hardest not to cum. after all, that was your deal, if he came first, he'd give up over a million dollars to you in the form of a cheque. but if you were to cum first, you'd be his, body, heart, and soul.

your upper body had already surrendered to him as your face was buried in a pillow, your torso flat on the fine silk sheets of his bed. your elbows failed in keeping you held up as he fucked you relentlessly—hard, deep, and fast.

"c'me on, don't you wanna cum around my cock, baby?" he insists and brings his hand over to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing at its' softness and using his fingers to tease your nipples. you nod, to answer his question. but of course you didn't, you wanted to win the bet. who would refuse a large amount of money?

...but maybe you'll have another chance at such an offer.

your body couldn't take any more. you bit the soft pillow in front of you to muffle out the lewd moan you mewled out as your body shivered intensely at the euphoric feeling that hit you hard like a truck.

a dark chuckle from behind, "guess you're mine now, yeah?" he whispers before pulling out all the way, only to slam back inside to earn yet another symphony of moans straight from your drooling lips. his own mouth latches onto your neck to kiss, lick, and even bite at the flesh, leaving marks all over from the area of your neck to your shoulder.

his hand trails further down to pinch at your clit, causing you to scream out his name in extreme ecstasy, squirting as you completely dampen the sheets—all the while he began to shoot ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of your pussy, reaching your womb.

not even a minute to calm down from your highs, he was already repositioning the two of you. firm grips from his hands laying you on your back and manhandling you right where he wanted you to be. a delicious mating press. it didn't take long for him to slide back into your warmth.

[yuutx]

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 ? ! (𝐼𝐿 𝒟𝒪𝒯𝒯𝒪𝑅𝐸)

il dottore x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ female masturbation ﾉ test subject x mad scientist ﾉ degrading kink ﾉ clit play ﾉ dirty talk ﾉ size kink ﾉ mdom + fsub ﾉ not proofread ! ૮꒰ྀི ◡ ˶ ◡ ꒱ྀི১

i wrote this a while ago 'n i just found it in my drafts 2 day so i figured i should finally post it ! i wld srsly do anything 'n everything 2 be dottore's test stubject he is soo perfect. art credits go to the lovely @/lllOhara ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

Piercing red orbs scanned the room, scrutinizing every detail. His lips curled into a slight smirk as he saw your figure curled up, encapsulated within a metal cage, and suspended by thick ropes. You looked so small and frail, like a little bird locked away in its gilded cage. The man could hardly suppress a laugh as his eyes trailed up your naked figure, stopping when he saw your head hanging low. It was obvious you were still unconscious, but it wouldn't be long before you awoke. Your breathing had evened out, and the wounds you'd received were beginning to stitch themselves back together. It would seem that you had more fight in you than he'd initially anticipated, and for a brief moment he'd been afraid that he'd made a mistake by attempting to bring you here. But alas, his worries were unfounded. The Doctor was always right.

"Y/N," the man spoke, his voice a deep baritone. His words hung in the air as he waited for you to reply. When you didn't stir, his smirk only grew. "I know you're awake, pet," the Doctor spoke again, this time more clearly, "You're a terrible liar, my dear. Now, stop playing pretend and look at me."

His command was sharp and commanding, yet soft and inviting, and it forced you to comply. Slowly, you raised your head, eyes fluttering open, and met the Doctor's gaze. As your eyes landed on his form, you felt a rush of emotions wash over you, ranging from anger, to fear, and even a sense of longing. You couldn't help but notice the way the light reflected off of his ruby red irises, making them shine like the most brilliant of gems. It was then that you realized just how handsome the Doctor was. His features were sharp and chiseled, his expression serious and brooding, yet his mouth was pulled into a devious smile that made your heart race. The man's appearance was nothing short of regal, and he commanded respect from all who were lucky enough to meet him.

The mask he usually wore was gone, revealing his face in its entirety. You noticed how his lips were set into a thin line, and the way his nose curved downward towards his pointed chin. He was tall, much taller than you were, and his shoulders were broad and powerful. You found yourself mesmerized by the man before you, unable to take your eyes off him, even as your heart pounded wildly in your chest. It was a strange sensation, this mixture of fear and desire, and you had no idea what to do with it. Were you attracted to the Doctor? Perhaps… perhaps not, but something inside of you wanted him, that was for certain.

Your body betrayed you as you shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze, drawing his attention to your nudity. Your nipples had hardened, and your core throbbed with need, aching for release. It wasn't right, you thought to yourself, you shouldn't feel this way about someone who'd captured you, imprisoned you, and planned on experimenting on you. But the longer you stared, the more you wanted him, and the more your mind seemed to lose focus on anything else. Your vision swam as a haze clouded your thoughts, leaving you completely intoxicated with desire. And just like that, you lost control. Your legs parted instinctively, and your hips bucked upward, grinding against the bars of your prison. It was almost as if your body had a mind of its own. You'd never felt anything like it before. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't stop yourself. It was like you'd gone mad, your body reacting on its own accord, no longer caring about consequences or rational thought. And the worst part was, you loved every second of it. Your cheeks flushed crimson as you writhed beneath him, the cool metal of the cage rubbing against your sex, sending shivers down your spine.

You could feel his gaze upon you, watching as your breasts bounced and jiggled while you rode the bars of the cage, grinding yourself against them. Your moans grew louder, and your breathing became labored. It was so good, you thought to yourself, too good. You couldn't help but wonder, had you really gone insane? Were you really willing to sacrifice yourself just for the sake of pleasure? And yet, here you were, doing exactly that. And the man watched, his expression unchanging, save for the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes. His lips twitched, fighting back a smile as he enjoyed your performance. Your moans echoed throughout the laboratory, drowning out the sounds of the machines and equipment around you. It was beautiful, he thought, how could something so lewd and vulgar be so breathtakingly gorgeous? You were like a living work of art, and he could watch you for hours.

You felt your climax approaching, and you tried desperately to stave it off, not wanting the Doctor to see you in such a state. However, you were powerless to stop it. Your orgasm tore through your body, causing your limbs to spasm uncontrollably. Your head lolled forward, and your jaw fell open, letting loose a series of breathy whimpers. Your hips bucked upwards, slamming into the bars, forcing your body against the cold metal. The pleasure was indescribable, unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. It was intense, raw, and powerful, and it left you panting heavily. You could feel the slickness coating the bars, and the smell of your arousal permeated the air. You were completely spent, utterly exhausted from the force of your orgasm, and yet somehow you felt invigorated. You couldn't remember the last time you had came so hard, and the intensity of it took your breath away.

A low rumble reverberated throughout the laboratory, and you could feel the vibrations travel up your spine. The machine beside you was whirring to life, and a loud clicking sound filled the room as its gears began to turn. You couldn't understand what it was doing, or what it meant, but the Doctor seemed pleased by whatever results were displayed. He walked over to you, his eyes never leaving yours, and knelt down beside the cage. He placed his gloved hands against the bars, gripping them tightly, and leaned in close. "That was quite impressive," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear, "Now, let's see what other noises I can pull from that pretty little mouth of yours."

Dottore pressed a button, and the cage was lowered to the ground. You looked up at him, and your eyes met his, and his hand moved to the lock, sliding a key inside. The door opened with a loud click, and he stepped back, allowing you to crawl out. Once you were free, the Doctor grabbed hold of your hair, yanking you forward. You stumbled slightly, and fell into his arms. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you firmly against him, causing your dripping cunt to rub against his groin. A moan escaped your lips as his erection pressed into you, and you felt him twitch in response. "Ahh.." he breathed, his grip tightening around you, "I'm afraid I can't wait any longer."

With one fluid motion, he lifted you into the air, and carried you across the room. He set you down onto a large, cushioned table, and began removing his clothes. You watched him closely, taking in every detail of his muscular frame, admiring the way his muscles rippled under his pale skin. The Doctor's gaze remained locked on yours, and his pupils were dilated, filled with lust. You noticed the prominent bulge in his pants, and your mouth watered as he unzipped his trousers, revealing his swollen member. His cock was massive, thick and long, and it stood proudly at attention, leaking precum down the shaft. He stroked himself lazily, and a deep growl rumbled from his throat. "Do you see what you've done to me, pet?" he asked, his voice husky with desire, "This is all because of you."

You swallowed hard, and nodded, biting your lip as he stroked himself faster. He continued pumping his fist, until his cock glistened with precum. His hand traveled lower, and he cupped his balls, massaging them gently. "Such a naughty little thing, making me hard like this.." he purred, his voice low and husky, "You'll have to pay for that.." The Doctor grabbed hold of your wrists, and forced you onto all fours, getting on the table behind you. "I'm going to break your fucking mind, pet." He growled, "You'll be too fucked up to think straight when I'm done with you." His words sent shivers down your spine, and you whimpered softly as his cock brushed against your slit. He pushed inside of you, and you gasped at the sudden intrusion. His length stretched you to the limit, filling you completely. You cried out in pleasure as his cock slammed into you, burying itself inside your wet cunt. Your walls clenched around him, and his hands gripped your hips tightly, digging into your skin. His thrusts were slow and steady, his pace leisurely, and his eyes never left yours. Your head rolled back, and your body shuddered beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

Dottore's heavy balls smacked against your clit, all while his cock reached places inside of you that hadn't been touched in a long time. He groaned as he bottomed out, pushing deep into your depths, making sure his full length was seethed inside of you. His movements were unhurried, but firm, cock swelling with need as he fucked into your cunt. Your hands clawed at the table, nails digging into the leather, leaving long scratches across the surface. You moaned loudly, unable to contain your sounds of pleasure. "Fuck.." he cursed, "Your pussy's so damn tight.." Your walls squeezed around him, pulling him deeper, causing his hips to stutter. He grunted, and began pumping his hips, pistoning into your core with renewed vigor. His cock slammed into you over and over again, until he finally released a torrent of hot cum into your womb, coating your insides with his seed. His grip tightened around your hips, and he pulled you closer, pressing his chest against your back. "That's it," he growled, his breath hot against your neck, "Take all of it." His words were like music to your ears, and you did as he commanded, letting him fill you up with his thick load. Your body shook, and your eyes rolled back as you fucked yourself onto his dick, slamming yourself back against his groin. He growled low in his throat, and began thrusting harder, using you like a living fleshlight. Your moans grew louder, echoing through the laboratory, filling the air with lewd, obscene sounds. Your juices flowed freely, mixing with his cum, creating a sticky mess between your legs. He pounded into you with such force that the table rattled beneath you, causing it to shake violently.

"Ohhh..oh fuck…fuck, mm-! L-Love it, I love it so muchhh..!" you gasped, tears stinging your eyes as he fucked your brains out, your walls milking his cock, "'m gonna cum..c- h-haahh…so-so close…w-wanna cum on y-your cock…" Your words were slurred, and incoherent, and your body trembled uncontrollably as you neared your peak. "Mm? Is that so?" the Doctor questioned, "Are you gonna cum for your dear Dottore?" You nodded frantically, a hand jumping to your clit, pinching the sensitive nub between your fingers. "Y-Yes…please…p-plea- please make me cum.." you begged, voice strained and shaky, "C-Can't wait..need to…n-nowww..!!" Your words were cut off as your back arched, body trembling as your squirted, splattering him with your juices. Your body went rigid, and your mouth hung open, a scream escaping your lips as he pumped another load of his thick cum into your used hole. "Oh, you little slut," he laughed, his cock still buried deep inside you, "What a mess you've made, Y/N." He held you in place as his seed seeped out of you, dribbling down the front of the table. You couldn't move, your legs had given out, and you collapsed onto the table, panting heavily. Your body was covered in sweat, and your cheeks flushed red, and you could barely keep your eyes open. The Doctor chuckled, and kissed the back of your neck.

"Mmh, don't go falling asleep on me now.." he chided, "We're far from finished."

[purplelupins]

My Pretty Girl

|The Black Phone|

Albert Shaw(The grabber) x fem!reader

Summery: After getting roped into watching over your older sister at a house party, you come to realise that the uncomfortable situation might be better than you think. Sure it’s not Max’s house like you were told, and sure there’s a house full of people you don’t know, but there’s that nice man with bright blue eyes and a sweet voice that keeps you company. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

MINORS DNI PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

Warnings: Mentions of partying, alcohol, and cocaine, age gap, manipulation, masturbation, daddy kink, filthy thoughts

Note: this was a 7000 word commissioned piece by @trashutjr and if you are interested in requesting a commission, you can tap on the link

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A phone call was how it all began.

A shrill ring of the teal phone in your kitchen made you pause your dinner. A part of you already knew who it was, but you optimistically hoped your intuition was wrong.

With your sunny thoughts dwindling quickly as you walked to the kitchen, you picked up the receiver and held it to your ear before uttering a gentle, “Hello, this is y/n speaking.” Always such a polite voice.

“Hey lollipop!” The voice of your older sister, Ellen, came through the phone, and your shoulders dropped slightly. Your intuition had been right, and while you usually praised yourself for it, tonight you cursed it. Mentally wishing it away.

It wasn’t that you disliked your elder sister, you got along surprisingly well; it was that over the past few years, the only time you received a call from her was because she needed something…usually with no intention of returning the favour. She already had a running tab with you, and a list of ‘I owe you’s a mile long, but family was family.

Plus, she only called you Lollipop when it was a favour she knew you wouldn’t like to partake in. The last time that sickly sweet name and tone came through to your ear, it had ended with you getting an elbow to the cheek from your heavily intoxicated sister’s friend, Karen, and you driving the two of them to Ellen’s little apartment outside the city. Herding them up the building’s dingy stairs was a whole other story.

“Hi Ellie…” you replied softly, half hoping she just needed directions to a bar.

A relieved breath came from the other end of the phone, “I know this is last minute…but you’re free tonight around 5, right?”She asked hopefully.

Ah. You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath, “Yep. Was just about to eat dinner.” Indeed your dinner was staring at you like the boneless girl you were when it came to Ellen.

Ellen laughed, “It’s 4 o’clock! You’re such an old lady sometimes…” that stung a little, “Listen, I know you don’t have a lot going on so I thought I’d take you to a friends tonight for some drinks and hanging out. You’ll come right?”

Which translated to: I’m going to get drunk and high and I need you to drive me home, so come be the sober one.

You felt the ‘No’ on your tongue, but it wouldn’t come out. If anything happened to her, you knew you would never let it go.

“Sure. What’s the address?” You asked, “Do they have any animals?” After going to enough of Ellen’s parties, it became habit to sit with the cat or dog that the stranger owned. You liked to bring treats, just in case.

“Um, one sec-“ she turned away from the phone and you could hear mumbling, “Hey, yeah he has a dog. It’s at 7742 south Irving St. I’ll see you there!” She blew you a kiss through the phone, and hung up before you could ask anything else. Your stomach already felt uneasy at the thought that this was a man’s house you were going to, but you pushed it aside.

It was a warm evening, and while you truly did not want to be out, a slow grin made its way onto your face; the fresh air enveloped you like gentle, warm fingers. You hopped on your bike, and pedalled off in the direction of the house, dog treats and a water bottle tucked in your bag.

Before long, the two story houses on the edge of the city turned into one stories, and you turned from East Anderson road to South Irving. You began counting the addresses, slowing your pace until you saw 7740, and stopped at the simple brick house beside it. Sure enough, your sister’s car and a couple others were outside,

With a deep breath, you walked your bike up the driveway, and leaned it against the side of the house before you knocked on the door tentatively. You could already hear loud voices inside, and you cringed.

Before you could back out, the door swung open to reveal a man in his mid to late thirties and a light blue dress shirt, and a thick moustache. He regarded you for a moment, and it only took you a moment to see his dilated pupils a a little bit of white powder caught in his nostril. “Hey, what can I do-“

“Lollipop?” You heard Ellen call from inside- a slight slur to her voice.

Then a look of recognition washed over the man’s face, “Oh you’re Ellen’s baby sister, come on in. Wish my name was Lollipop.” He said happily.

You tried to return his easy smile, but it likely came out as a tight line instead, “Thank you. I’m y/n…” you said as you walked inside, “Ellie just calls me that sometimes…”

He nodded enthusiastically and you looked around the modest home as the smell of cigarettes and alcohol wrapped around you. It was a mess. Littering the coffee table and floor where beer and brandy bottles, along with some bowls of chips and…were those dog treats? But what drew your attention the most was the almost violent array of clippings pinned to a cork board on the wall. Your brows pinched in the middle when you tried to take a look, and you noticed photos of the missing boys.

You felt a twist in your gut when you realised this was some conspiracy party…and even as you listened to the conversations being had, your thoughts were confirmed.

What have you gotten into now, El…

From her place on the couch, you heard Ellen call your name, and you slowly looked over at her with a small smile; she returned it with one far larger and dazed. Everyone you saw her like that, you wished she ran with a better crowd, a sober one at least. Though you figured that after living a life with an alcoholic barely-there father, one of you would turn out on the bad side…it just hurt to see your older sister filling that role.

You waved to her and said a few greetings to the other unfamiliar faces in the room- a total of three women including your sister, and four men. All of them older than you, and all of them not noticing your presence. Not that you dwelled on it. Your attention was soon captured by a large black dog that laid in the corner. The smell of beer instantly went away as soon as you began to walk over to the hound, and you grinned at your new companion.

It picked up its large head, and watched you closely as you crouched down, “Hello you…looks like it’s just us tonight.”

Huge dark eyes stared back at you, and blinked. Taking that as a sign that the dog wouldn’t rip your face off, you sat down beside it, and took your bag in hand. As you were about to ask if it could have treats, your words died in your mouth; the man whose house you were in was very animatedly explaining some wild theory of his, and all eyes were either on him or a tempting body part of another man or woman. You prayed to god that this wouldn’t turn into a cocaine orgy.

You sighed and just hoped for the best as you fished out the the baggie- surly the dog had no allergies. Instantly, the dog’s eyes perked up and it’s head rose again in acknowledgement of the goodies.

“That’s Sampson, he’s a big sap…might not let you go if you give him treats!” The man called over to you as he took a swig from his beer.

You still didn’t know his name. You knew his dog’s, but not his. Regardless, you nodded and laughed gently as your attention returned to the massive dog. “Well Sampson, I would just take you home with me if my landlady allowed it. Guess I’ll just have to keep you in my pocket.” You cooed to him as you held out two treats, which he ate greedily. You wondered when the last time he had been fed was.

A half hour passed, and you were slouched comfortably in front of Sampson, trying to get him to catch a treat from high in the air. He wasn’t amused. You were happy for the distraction, especially since the last time you had looked up, your sister had one of the male attendees’ tongues down her throat.

It wasn’t that you were a prude or judging her, but something about seeing your sibling making out with someone made your stomach uncomfortable.

Max -as you had finally come to hear him referred to as- was still very animatedly talking about various topics that you had completely lost track of when the front door swung open, and for the first time, you saw him stop talking. From your standpoint, you didn’t see who had opened the door, but from the look of recognition on Max’s face, this wasn’t good or expected.

“Max what the fucking hell is this?”

Another man stepped through the door; he was taller than Max, and clearly older. He slammed the door shut, which made you jump, and your nerves were set on high.

“Hey Al…just some friends I invited over, no biggie.” Max tried to sooth the older man -Al- but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

“Oh I see. A little get together?” He mocked, “I let you crash here for a month, Max. You make a mess of my- is that…Christ clean that shit up.” You saw the older man catch a glimpse of the cocaine still on the coffee table.

You felt sick.

This wasn’t even Max’s house. You almost wanted to shout to the man that you were sorry and just bolt, but then you remembered the tether that kept you there. Ellen. And she barely looked awake.

Max pulled Al into the kitchen, and you watched anxiously as they continued their heated exchange.

“Listen Albert I’ll make it up to you okay, I got this interview comin’ up and I’m sure I’ll get it-“

But Albert shook his head in disappointment, “I don’t want your money, I want my house back. With none of that shit everywhere.” He gestured pointedly to the coffee table.

That was all you could hear until Max clasped his hands in front of him and seemed to reason with the older man.

From what you could gather, Albert was too tired for the younger man’s antics, and gave him twenty minutes before everyone had to be out. You didn’t blame him. Hell you only blamed yourself for not asking more questions about this gathering.

Sampson watched the conversation as closely as you, and you wondered if he was even Max’s dog. You doubted it. So you sunk deeper into your seated position, and heaved a sigh as your hand stroked the hound’s fur.

Albert took several long deep breaths as he wrenched the fridge open and grabbed one of the last of Max’s shitty beers. It wasn’t like he drank much, but after a long day at work, and now this, he needed something to take the edge off. He cast an irritated eye around his once very orderly home, and was about to roll that watchful gaze at the sight of the idiotic smatter of articles Max had taped up when something stopped him.

Someone.

For a moment, he stared; raised the cold drink to his lips, and watched. A young woman was curled up next to that mutt that was supposed to intimidate, and he watched as you held a fearless hand out with a little treat on it for Sampson to devour.

Albert’s eye twitched. You were young. Very young. And definitely sober. Your movements weren’t sluggish, and there were no bottles near you aside from-

Oh what a diligent little girl…

Aside from the water bottle sitting by your bare thigh.

You were pretty- very pretty. Your hair was a little untamed and he wondered if that bicycle was yours. Judging by the light muscles in your legs, it was definitely yours. Albert drank again. You wore a little sundress that was bunched up and wrinkled around your legs, and a cardigan that looked too big for you.

A-fucking-dorable. Absolutely adorable.

And was that a damn ribbon in her hair? Wrapped up like a little present just for me? How considerate.

Albert sighed, and quickly made a list of what would be needed to perfect an interaction with you. He saw your eyes flicker nervously to him a when you thought he wasn’t looking…once, twice, three times…Come on little bunny look at me one more time- ah. There you go. Good girl.

But as much as he wanted to stride over to you and drag you to his room or basement by your hair, he decided on a different approach. One that felt very much like torture, but it would at the very least distract him from wanting to throttle his brother. So, the older man sucked in an irritated breath and walked briskly past the gathering, past you and Sampson -though he didn’t miss how his foot brushed against your toes- and went to his room. He shed his work shirt, and ran a hand through his hair as he contemplated his next move. Albert knew you had watched him as he walked down the hall, so you acknowledged his presence and you were attentive. As he stood there he even let himself imagine that you followed him to his room and begged for his forgiveness-

Fuck.

The older man looked down at his pants, and saw his cock twitching as it strained against the fabric. Closing his eyes, one arm braced against the wall, he palmed himself and imagined it was your little hand stroking him instead.

It took thirty seconds for him to spatter cum inside his pants.

Albert gasped to settle his breathing, and twitching limbs as his sensitive cock shifted in his ruined pants. He wanted you. Badly. With that thought in mind, the older man made quick work of stripping himself, and changing into fresh clothes before he grabbed his beer and slowly walked back to the living room with a practiced air of distain and irritation.

Again he had to pass you to get into the living room, and ‘accidentally’ brushed your foot a little harder this time; he murmured a quiet “Sorry” but paid it no mind as he plopped himself down in one of the chairs- conveniently close to you. He didn’t even look at you- he wanted to see if you actually cared-

“E-excuse me?”

You had watched the man walk off with a tight jaw, and return about ten minutes later in fresh clothes. It was like a blow to your gut when you imagined how tired he must be; probably returning home from work only to find this. His voice was soft when he had apologised for bumping into you the second time, but if you were honest, his apology only made you feel worse when you should be the one apologising. Hell you shouldn’t even be there.

So in favour of repairing the brittle status-quo, you shifted on your knees away from your furry friend, and moved a little closer to the man as he stared at the articles pinned to the wall. You spoke gently to get his attention and you saw him cast you a slow look of indifference.

His gaze pinned you to the spot, but you tried to not get struck by his sharp blue eyes, and forced some clumsy words from your mouth, “A-Albert, right? Um…I didn’t know- that is…uh…I’m really sorry about all this. I didn’t know this wasn’t Max’s house…I can’t…” you sighed, “I’m just so sorry.”

Well that was a mess.

But Albert relished your nerves. You should be nervous. It was a blessing the basement was empty or who knows if Max’s little party might have found his newest guest…and then he wouldn’t be able to play with you.

Albert watched you, and took another drink before looking away and nodding to his brother, “You’re a friend of Max’s?” He asked you.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head defensively, “Me? No. No I’m the designated driver so to speak…I’m Ellen’s little sister.” You pointed to your inebriated sibling, “Sort of got roped into coming. If I had it my way I would be laying on the couch with some ice cream.”

He eyed Ellen for a moment in distain, then looked back to you. Beautiful little you.

Albert cocked a brow, “Your daddy lets her run around town like that?” He asked chidingly towards your sibling in her intoxicated state, and he watched an array of emotions flicker over your face at his question. Interesting.

“N…no. Well, he’s not really in the picture.” You sighed and absently rubbed Sampson, which caught Albert’s eye. It was odd to see the dog so…docile.

“He doesn’t usually like strangers.” He murmured as he shifted to look down at you a little better now. His interest was growing the more you knelt beside him.

Pretty.

Young.

Sweet.

Open.

Attentive.

Naive.

Malleable

A little laugh bubbled out of you, “Well I think I might have bribed him a little,” you took out your almost empty baggie of snacks, “I hope that’s okay…this isn’t my first time being in a strangers house to watch over my sister and ending up sitting with the house dog or cat. Thought it might be nice.” You rambled on.

Albert squeezed his drink -wishing it was your throat- and grinned, “Can’t complain. The old man could use some company.” Not the only one.

You laughed again. He liked that sound. He wondered what you would sound like whimpering as he-

“Yea, Max joked that if I was too nice to him he wouldn’t let me leave.” You smiled easily and looked back down at the black dog that rested near you.

Albert almost laughed at your words. Sampson wasn’t the only old dog that would rather keep you to himself.

She’d probably look pretty in chains…

“That’s true. He’s very…territorial.” The older man said, and smirked as he gazed down at your sweet form. If he turned his head just right he could see down your dress…fuck…no bra? Albert already felt himself twitch in his pants again.

He wondered if you wore any panties.

Albert could have come right there again just at the thought.

“Well I think he’s sweet. He’s yours?” You asked, shyly.

He nodded. Now, you were looking up at him with undivided attention, just like he wanted. Some charm and garnered sympathy was all it took, too.

Whether it was because you felt terrible and wanted to make him feel a part of the gathering or something else, you weren’t sure. But you knew he had beautiful eyes and a nice voice, so you happily payed attention to the sweet man.

You shifted a little closer and leaned up onto your heels to place your arms on the side of Albert’s chair, “By the way, I’m y/n-“

“Lollipop, there you are!” Ellen yelled far too loudly when she remembered you existed.

Albert watched you squeeze your eyes shut.

Lollipop? Christ please tell me that’s her nickname for a reason because I’d give her something to suck on…

You sighed and slowly opened your eyes to look over at your sister who was smiling at you, and you grimaced as she munched on a dog treat. “Hi Ellie.” You replied, hoping she wouldn’t get all lovey-dovey now that she was inebriated.

“Why’re you over there? Come sit with us!” She slurred and waved you over enthusiastically.

Albert watched you closely, almost wanting to speak up for you to tell her you were staying right there perched by him. But evidently, he didn’t need to.

“I’m okay over here…Albert’s keeping me company.” you said, and unconsciously patted his arm. Albert almost jumped at the feeling. It seemed your refusal was enough for her, as she turned away and shrugged, leaning into the man next to her. Then you looked back at Albert and found his focus on you already, “I…I hope you don’t mind. I’m not much of one for…those sorts of things…”

A relieved sigh left you when you saw a look of understanding on the older man’s face, “Are you sure you’re the younger one?” He teased you in a quiet voice, finishing his beer, and spreading his legs.

You nodded and rolled your eyes at the question you had heard a million times.

“Positive…plus…” you beckoned him a little closer and he relented instantly, “I think it’s worth saying that one of those bowls of chips are actually Sampson’s milk bones…and while I like to try new foods, I’m a little sceptical…” you said with a cheeky laugh, which only continued when Albert’s eyes widened and his head whipped around to inspect the dishes.

“For fucksake…” he whispered under his breath, and when he turned back to you, your hand was covering your mouth as you hid your laughter. But it faded and that remorseful look came back to you when you remembered this was his home.

“I’m really sorry about all this…” you whispered, but then noticed just how close you and Albert had become and sucked in a breath. He was less than a foot away, and his breath fanned across your cheeks; you were a little dazed, and noted how soft his hair looked.

He smirked, and shook his head, “You didn’t do this…and besides, it seems having an idiot for a younger brother payed off since I get to talk with a pretty little thing like you, hm?” Albert perched his chin in his palm and gazed at you, now only a few inches away.

Your words died on your tongue.

“Well…I…um. Wait you’re brothers?” You asked, trying to find a single coherent thought.

He breathed out a laugh and nodded, “Yes ma’am, Max over there is my baby brother if you can believe it…”

You looked over at the mentioned man, and shrugged, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but intoxication makes you age faster…so if I’m honest I would have guessed you were the same age.” You said softly, a heat rising to your cheeks when you saw the small grin on Albert’s lips.

He has nice lips…

“Now you’re just flattering me.” He murmured, still gazing at you from his perch.

Your cheeks burned. “N-no it’s true! I mean Max isn’t bad looking but…you’re-“ again, your words wouldn’t come out. Especially not now with yourself halfway to severe embarrassment. When you realized how forward you were being, you sank down onto your calves, now having to crane your head to look up at Albert if you did have the courage to do so, but in that moment, you didn’t.

And Albert was having none of that. He clicked his tongue in a tsk, which instantly made you look up.

So responsive.

“I’m what, sweetheart?” He cooed to you.

Come on my pretty girl…tell me.

You couldn’t help it. Your heart leapt in your chest at the pet name.

Deciding to take things a step further, he reached out with his free hand, and brushed some hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear, “Hmm? What am I?” How far can I push you?

Your eyes fluttered at his touch, but you quickly snapped out of it and blinked, “Well you’re… handsome. Definitely.” You murmured, and looked away to try and seem aloof, even though you were far from it. His hand was huge and warm against your cheek as it engulfed it.

“That’s sweet of you to say, y/n.” He whispered and drew his hand away, which you missed instantly. “Why does she call you lollipop?” The question had been sitting on his silver tongue for six minutes. He needed to know.

Your cheeks burned even more and you moved some of your wayward hair away from your ear, “O-oh. Um…they were my favourite candy when I was a kid. Still love them and I get made fun of for it because they’re childish.”

Talented tongue then.

Albert nodded, “Well that’s not very nice.” He said with a little pout that made your eyes flick to his lips again.

“Well people aren’t always very nice.” You whispered, the weight of your words all too heavy.

Your breath fanned across Albert’s face and he had to keep himself from inhaling deeply.

“Do you think I’m nice, sweetie?” He murmured, tilting his head to the side. You had come closer again, though you didn’t even realise it.

You nodded, “Uh-huh.”

“I think you’re nice too.” Came his whisper that make your pulse quicken and a heat stir in your belly-

“Looollliiii!”

Both you and Albert blinked and turned towards the sound of your sister. Usually her sing-songy voice calling your name would set you at east to get out of the house as soon as possible, but this time, you didn’t want to go. You cursed her timing too.

“Let’s gooo!” She hopped on the spot where she stood, and nodded to the door.

Not in the mood to fight, you slowly stood, and found that Albert did too. He had his arms crossed, and you had to fight with yourself to not stare at his arms.

“It was uh…really nice meeting you, Albert.” You said with a shy smile; the older man was barely a foot away, but you didn’t move. Even when he grasped your chin and tilted your face up to his, you just stared back at him with your cheeks ablaze.

“I hope I’ll see you again soon, sweetie.” He murmured and stroked your chin.

“Come oon!” Ellen wailed from outside.

You sighed and shook your head, “I am sorry again for this mess…take the rest of these for Sampson…I think he might need some new snacks after tonight.” You smiled and bit your inner lip to keep from laughing.

But Albert didn’t smile back. If he did, he might not have restrained himself from leaning down to bite that lip or suck it until you were begging him for more. But he managed to keep his cold eyes gentle, at least long enough to fool you into thinking he was harmless. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite, bunny.”

Don’t let the bedbugs bite, bunny.

His words ran rampant in your mind as you drove your sister and a friend to her apartment. Even when you hauled your bike out of the truck and pedalled home, you didn’t notice the black van that followed you from afar as you remembered how his hand felt on your cheek and chin.

You didn’t even remember getting into your apartment or into bed, but what you did know was that tomorrow was Saturday, and your day off, and that you were going to go back to that house and apologize.

That poor man deserved that at least. Perhaps some fresh cookies…

When the warm morning sun shone through your window onto your face, you took a long breath to calm yourself. There was something about that man that made you nervous…but nervous wasn’t the right word. Something akin to nerves but so much warmer. Balancing the plate wasn’t an option with your bike, so you decided a long walk and bus ride would have to suffice.

You checked your watch for the fifth time once you got off the bus, even though you didn’t have an appointment. It felt like you did though, especially with how much your hands were trembling and your heart was beating frantically. South Irving st. ha d never seemed so long and so short at the same time. Once you passed 7735, it seemed the houses jumped right to 7742, and you were confronted with the brick house you had pulled your sister from just ten hours ago.

With a long, deep breath and a twisted gut, you walked up the path, and to the front door. You knocked before you could back out, but then your logical brain kicked in and you realized you didn’t even know if he would be home.

But you couldn’t dwell on your possible mistake for too long, as the door in-front of you swung open, and you were greeted with those same blue eyes that had plagued you all night.

“Well, what do we have here?” His shocked expression melted into one of mischief; you didn’t need to know it was actually self satisfaction.

What a good girl…coming back to me so soon.

Your cheeks were instantly scorched, but you tried to keep yourself calm, “Hi Albert…um, I just felt so bad about last night and I doubt Max helped you clean up…so I made you some cookies this morning,” you held up the plate, not able to meet his eyes, “A peace offering.”

Albert smirked, and tilted his head at your inability to look at him.

Just grab her and tie her to the bed…Max isn’t home so make her scream-

“Aren’t you just the sweetest? Come on in., y/n.” He said gently, taking the plate from you and moving aside; but not enough that you could move without brushing against his front to get in. He almost groaned at the feeling of your chest against his as you slipped inside.

Now as you looked around, the house resembled much more of a home than a fraternity house. It was very tidy, and actually very comfortable; you started to wonder if Albert had a girlfriend who helped with the cleaning, because in your experience, most men didn’t clean like that.

But most men weren’t Albert.

You walked into the kitchen behind Albert and watched him place the cookies down. “Would it be terrible if I indulged?” He asked you; the double meaning, however, was lost on you.

“It would be terrible if you didn’t.” You chirped back with an encouraging nod.

Albert felt himself pulse in his pants; imagining you saying the same words right before he’d force himself inside you and watch you cry out. He bit into the cookie and moaned, half from the taste, and half from the subtle rock against the counter he did. “Might have to hire you to make these for me all the time.” He joked once he recovered.

“Oh you wouldn’t have to pay me. I’m just happy to give you something yummy! I’m glad I caught you today…wasn’t sure if you’d be home.” You said, not knowing whether to get comfortable or walk to the door.

Albert took another bite lest he ask if you could be the yummy thing you’d give him so willingly; he began walking towards you, and you gathered it was time to go. “I get weekends off, so if you’re ever in the neighbourhood, you know when to find me.” He said. But instead of walking to the door, he sat at the couch, and you took that as an invitation.

As you sat down, you failed to notice how the older man shifted closer to you so once you settled, and successfully invaded your space- after all, it would be rude to move away. You wore another dress that day- a little soft blue one that you didn’t wear too often. Albert took another bite of the cookie, and chewed it thoughtfully, at least that was what you thought. You didn’t need to know that he was thinking of anything he hated to keep himself from coating the inside of his pants with his cum again.

“How did you sleep?” He asked, turning a little to see you better; the last bite of the cookie in his hand.

You bit your inner lip to keep from smiling and blushing. He didn’t need to know that you had woken up with ruined panties, “Oh not bad. Got home late after dropping everyone off.” You shrugged and shifted, but your knee brushed his in the process.

Albert grinned gently, and rested his head in his hand as he braced his elbow against the back of the couch.

“Such a good girl…bet your daddy would be proud of you.” He murmured, watching you so closely. He had said the same word last night, and you had reacted…he was curious if you would again.

Albert soaked you in. How your face glowed and your hands trembled; how you couldn’t look him in the eye.

You’re going to be mine.

Then he blinked, and his voice was light, “I’m so sorry, I’m being rude. Did you want one of those delicious cookies?” He asked as if nothing had happened.

You grinned at his kindness, “Oh, sure. Just a half is okay.” You said, not wanting to take away your gift from him like a greedy child.

Albert returned your grin, but you missed the dilation of his pupils, “Open.” He said, and held the last bit of cookie he held in his hand to your lips, which made your brows pinch in surprise; but before you brain could catch up, you parted your lips and let him place the cookie in your mouth. Albert hummed in satisfaction, and held your chin as you chewed, “Good, isn’t it?” Came his lofty whisper that made your head cloudy.

So fucking obedient

You could only nod slightly.

He could see the dazed expression on your face- Albert might not have been terribly experienced in the art of seduction, but he knew that the girl in his hand was at his disposal.

“You like me, don’t you sweetheart?” Albert purred, leaning closer to you. He was growing greedy.

You finally looked away and shrugged half-heartedly.

“Ah, look at me.” He chided you with a tap to your nose.

You swallowed and your eyes fluttered.

“You like it when I touch you?” He cradled your cheek, drawing small circles by your mouth.

You nodded again.

“Say it.”

“I…I like it when you touch me.” You whispered.

“Yeah?” Then he pulled away and relaxed into the couch, “Do you want to touch me?”

You fought to think. What did he say?

“Yes.” You breathed out, your mind was completely gone.

Albert hummed in satisfaction, and sucked in a breath.

This is going to be fun.

Without a word, he took your hand in his, and brought it to the crotch of his pants where his cock was hardening quickly. He flattened your palm and used it to stroke himself, grinding his hips into your hand, “You feel that? You did this. I was fine until I saw you last night…I fucking came in my pants when I went to change. Thought about fucking you right there in front of my brother and your sister…” he rasped. His predatory eyes were locked onto yours.

You stared at him, not able to move or speak.

“Did you get all wet for me, sweetie? Let daddy check.”

Just like that, your brain shut off.

“Come here,” he cooed, pulling on the hand that he held against himself. You stood up and came to stand between his spread thighs as he continued to stroke himself. He stared at you for a moment, then reached under your dress to pull your panties down and growled when he saw the darkened patch where your cunt had been.

Embarrassment should have frozen you, but like a woman possessed, you placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped out of them. You knew you should be concerned, but your mind was empty. Perhaps it was the shock of the sweet older man -who you had known for a total of 13 hours- now grasping your soaked panties in his hand and raising it to his nose, or maybe you were just naive to fully understand what was happening.

He sucked in a long breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me what a mess you were making, sweet thing?” Albert murmured; you felt his large hand around your arm, and pull you into his lap, “You’ve just been torturing me, you know that? That’s not very nice of you…” he pouted and tilted his head to the side.

Your lips parted, and you fought to think, “I…I’m sor-“

“You’re sorry?” He cut you off, “Is coming back to my house in a little dress like that…with cookies and soaked panties with no intention of letting me have a taste…sound sorry to you?” Albert mocked you.

A taste? But the cookies were for him-

“I’m not talking about those cookies.” His eyes seemed to grow predatory the longer he stared, and it wasn’t until the fabric of your panties brushed against your thigh that you noticed he was rubbing them against his pants to stroke his cock. “I’m talking about that cunt between your thighs that I could smell as soon as I opened the fucking door.”

Gone was the lofty, gentle voice you had heard before. Now all you could hear was a low growl that settled into your bones.

Your mouth dropped open as you listened to those depraved words leave his lips. Never in a million years did you think that he would be relaying such filth to you, and you certainly didn’t think you would listen, but there you were.

“Come on, where’s that pretty voice of yours?” He rasped, slipping his free hand into your hair before grasping it painfully, “Answer me.” He snapped.

You jumped in fright and fought to find your words, “I-I just…”

“You just? You’ve gone all silly, hm?” Albert soaked up your embarrassment, and rocked into his palm, “Or maybe you just want me to touch you?” His hand in your hair released you, and slipped down to your thighs where he paused, “Lift your dress up for daddy, sweetie.”

He saw your jaw drop sweetly at the title he gave himself.

So she likes that? What a filthy little thing…

You let out a shuttered breath, and moved your shaking hands to the hem of your dress.

“That’s it…” he encouraged you.

You pulled the hem up over your thighs and bunched it around your waist so you were completely exposed to him.

Albert sighed out a gravelly breath that sent a shiver down your spine; before you could blush from his heavy gaze, his hand was back in your hair, and those lips you had admired were against yours. You gasped in surprise, and put your hands on his chest as if to push him away, but that sweet taste was still on his tongue and it slipped into your mouth, and you were helpless. Albert groaned at the feeling of your body relaxing, and smirked to himself when he felt your little hands gripping his shirt.

His hand left his pants, and opted to wrap it around your waist to hold you tight against his body as he stood with you wrapped around him. You gasped and accidentally bit his lip, tasting blood; you pulled away and began to stutter out a meek apology but Albert said nothing as he strode to his room, and threw you harshly onto the bed.

You stared up at him, not even caring that your dress was flipped up for him to see your -shamefully- glistening thighs; he was ripping his shirt off in a flash and crawling over you before you could take a proper breath.

“A-Albert-“

“Shut up, sweetie. Let daddy make you feel good.” He rasped, pulling on your legs to shift you closer to him. The older man bunched up your dress around your waist, and pressed a harsh kiss to your navel before he was nipping at your thighs. Then, again, he paused and reached up to his lip and dabbed it before looking down at his finger.

Blood.

Your eyes went wide when you saw that his lip was definitely bleeding, but they only widened when you saw his breathing grow heavier.

“Now look at what you did. Say you’re sorry, bunny.” He murmured in a strangely sweet but stern tone.

You felt so tiny.

You couldn’t breathe.

He smacked your thigh. “Say it!”

“I-I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“You’re sorry…?”

“I’m sorry, daddy.” Your voice was a shell of what it usually was. Your brain was so busy playing catch up, that you could barely even register the words in your mouth.

Albert closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“That’s my good girl. See isn’t that easy?” He cooed, kissing where he had slapped.

You nodded and sucked in a breath at the feeling of his lips on your thigh, moving higher. The sensations were too much, and had you squirming to try and alleviate the intense sensations. But Albert only grinned and chuckled as he skipped the rest of your leg and planted a open kiss right on your clit.

A loud whimper echoed through the house, and it took you a moment to realise it was coming from you.

“Did that feel good, bunny?” You heard Albert ask from between your soft thighs as he did it again, “You like my mouth on your little pussy? I bet you do.” He kissed you again, but this time he sucked your clit into his mouth. Hard.

You cried out and tried to wriggle out of his grip, but Albert had his hands and arms around your hips, pinning you there for him to use you as he pleased.

“Ah, ah…hold still.” He bit your thigh, then returned to your soaked entrance, this time slipping his tongue inside you. Your eyes rolled back, and you arched your back; he ground himself into the mattress at the sound of you mewling so prettily for him. Albert returned to your clit, and sucked on it slowly. It had been years since he had done anything like it, but he caught up quickly with what made you rock into his mouth for more. He could feel you start to tense as your pleasure built up; your hands found their way into his hair and your attempts to hump his face were adorably pathetic.

“I- I…p-please I’m-“ you stuttered.

“That’s it, you’re gonna come?” He mocked you, slipping a thick finger inside you and stroking against your sensitive spot, “You’re gonna come when I get to 1, okay?”

You nodded helplessly, right on the edge.

“5.” He sucked at your clit, and you screamed.

“4.” He slipped his tongue inside you along his finger.

“3.” He slipped another finger inside you, and you felt tears running down your cheeks from trying to hold back.

“2…” he sucked at the skin of your thigh-

Then he pulled away completely. Nothing touching you.

You bolted up, eyes wide and teary.

What-

“You didn’t think I’d let you come that easy did you?” He tilted his head to the side all innocently, and rose up onto his knees.

You must have looked like a kicked puppy judging by how he chuckled mercilessly at you, “Now why don’t you take off that little dress and sit pretty for me.” His voice was ragged as he crawled next to you and nodded down by his feet.

With your eyes glued to his, you slowly lifted the dress off yourself, and let it fall beside you. In the back of your mind it registered that it was the exact shade of his eyes, and you wondered if you had done that on purpose.

Albert wondered too.

Of course she did.

She’s yours, whether she knows it or not.

Albert grinned wolfishly and blindly began undoing his belt, “You’re going to watch. And if you try anything…well you’ll find out.” He winked down at you, which you answered with a deep blush.

You watched as he unzipped the fly, and the head of his cock was already peaking out from the top of his briefs, eager and weeping pre-cum. His large hand gripped it and pulled the shaft out completely, and you couldn’t help but let your jaw drop open.

“What’s wrong bunny? Too big?” He murmured like he cared.

You didn’t say anything, only staring. Then Albert began to stroke himself, his hips bucking up into his hand after keeping himself on the edge for so long. You watched, feeling your pussy clench around nothing at the sight of the older man’s cock.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his free hand go to his pocket and pull something out; you let out a whimper when you saw it was your panties that he was now wrapping around his shaft as he pumped.

He eased his thumb over the head, and hissed at the sensation. Albert took in your sweet, desperate little form and how your hands were clenching so tightly to refrain from reaching out.

Such a good fucking girl.

“You want this don’t you?” He rasped, gripping his cock tighter to make his point, “I bet you’re making a mess on my clean bed, aren’t you?”

Your breathing came in heavy gasps, and you nodded.

“Get the fuck over here.” He growled. You barely had time to move before he gripped your arm and pulled you onto his lap.

Albert held your hip in one hand and his cock in the other. Up close now, you were nervous as to wether or not it would fit, but he didn’t let you fret too much before he was pushing the swollen head inside you.

“Ah-“ you gasped, clutching onto his shoulders. He was huge, and it felt like you were lit on fire.

“I know sweetie, but it’s going-fuck…it’s going to feel so, so good-“ he groaned and thrust up and forced another inch inside you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sit properly for days at the sheer stretch of him inside you alone.

Albert was entranced by his cock getting swallowed up by your body, and he had to force himself to hold back lest he fill you his his cum right there. But oh how pretty you’d look all shocked.

He gripped your hips with both hands and pushed you down his length until your hips met his, and you choked out a pained gasp. The bulbous head of his cock dragged against your walls so firmly you saw stars, and couldn’t help but clench around him.

“You like that? Huh?” He rolled his hips and drew a moan from your lips that made his cock twitch, “I can fucking feel you, you little- fuck!” You met his hips as he rocked against you, and you both gasped at the feeling.

You wished you could form a sentence to make him as flustered and flushed as he did, but all you could do was grip his shoulders for dear life, and whimper.

“You fuck every old man who says you’re nice? Huh?” He chided you.

“N-no-“ you breathed, grinding against him, already feeling your orgasm build.

“No. I didn’t think so. You’re a good girl aren’t you? You’re mine, right?” He rasped, thrusting up against you.

Your mind was clouded with lust and you nodded.

“Say it. Say you’re mine, sweetie. You belong to daddy.”

“I’m y-yours-“ you murmured, head lolling into the crook of his neck.

That easy huh? That’s my girl.

“That’s right.” He gripped your hips even tighter until it hurt, and bucked up into you.

“I-I-“ you stammered.

“You’re going to try and come again?” He growled into your ear, biting at the skin. You nodded helplessly, and let out a sob, “Yeah you fucking come. Come on I’ll be nice.” He rasped; you swore you could feel his voice vibrate through you.

It took two more rolls of his hips for you to break, and you were well aware of the fact that your vision went dark, and your hearing was null.

Albert felt you tighten uncontrollably around him, and pressed your face into his neck when a scream tore from your throat. A gush of cum soaked his shaft, and he almost stopped breathing at the feeling. Your shaking legs and sobs sent him over the edge, fucking himself into your slick pussy until his cock throbbed and his cum began to fill you up. His hips kept rocking against you until he felt his pants grow saturated with your joined cum. Then, when he slowly came back to his body, he felt how you had slumped against him. Boneless.

So trusting.

You were almost limp, and Albert began to wonder if you had passed out as he cradled you there with his cock still inside you. But then, after five blissful minutes, you slowly raised your head to look him in the eye and Albert felt something inside him pulse with a need from the way you looked at him. There was a certain devotion in your blissed out face- an almost thankfulness.

A lovingness- it didn’t matter if it was from the brutal fucking you had just received or a true adoration. To Albert it was all the same, and he wasn’t about to let you go. It didn’t matter how it started, he was going to keep you with three words.

“My pretty girl.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@dancingisdangerouss @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @dogmatic255 @honeycovered-bandaids @ethanhawkestan @theroadreader @ebiemidnightlibrarian @lxdyred @eth1calcannibal @al-shaw @katehawke

[melonba11s]

Another Glass (Strade/MC fanfic)

You're thirsty, so Strade gets you something to drink!

CW: Coerced Participation, forced ingestion/ coerced Ingestion of Non-Food Items, Vomit, Nose bleed (minor), Canon Typical Behavior.

You were thirsty. Really thirsty. So when Strade came down into the basement, you begged. 

“Please, just something to drink…” Your voice cracked as you spoke. You cut off your begging short. Talking just made your mouth more dry. Strade cocked an eyebrow at you, grinning. 

“Sure buddy, I’ll get you something to drink!” You perked up just a bit, as much as being bound and half naked in some guy's basement would allow. Water. Juice? Maybe a Beer. It didn’t matter. You just needed something liquid down your throat. 

He was at the counter now, humming and glancing back, as if to make sure you couldn’t see what he was doing. Everytime he glanced back he’d give you a grin and turn away. 

You took this opportunity to look around the basement, usually when the lights were on and Strade was here you were… too occupied to get a proper look. 

The floor had some weird brown stains across it. You decided to ignore the floor. There were all sorts of tools hanging off the walls. Including a saw. You found yourself staring at the saw. 

Each of its teeth polished and sharpened, it shone. It could probably go through bone like nothing. 

“Here you go, Buddy!” Your attention snapped back to Strade. He had a glass of some yellowish looking liquid. It looked sort of like apple juice. 

“Admiring my… ah… what's the word?... Männergarten? … Man Cave?” He shook his head a little. Something he did when something wasn’t a direct translation, but it was close enough. Assuring himself he did great.  

He reached forward with the glass. Warm apple juice wouldn’t be your first choice but you had to take what you could get. You opened your mouth, eying it. It moved… too slowly to be apple juice. Too thick. It clung to the glass too, and it wasn’t until he tipped it into your mouth did you have the brains to think “wait who would keep apple juice in the basement?” 

The liquid that hit your tongue was thick, it coated it instantly. You gagged as the taste of chemicals hit the roof of your mouth and you turned your head away from the glass instantly, spitting and choking. 

Strade was laughing. 

“Wh-What the fuck was that?” you managed to ask, your entire mouth filled with the burning acrid taste. 

“Motor oil!” Strade said, cheerfully. He still had most of the glass left over. Its contents were threatening to spill over the sides as his body shook from his laugh. 

“Th-That’s not… edible…” Your voice faltered, as you gasped for breath, continuing to spit to try and get the taste out of your mouth. Strade just kept an eye on you, grinning. 

“Not thirsty anymore then? I noticed you admiring my saw, wanna get a… closer look?” It felt like your heart stopped for a moment. He was moving towards that fucking saw. You know what he could do with it. 

“No! I’m still thirsty!” You gasped, leaning forward. “Just… I’ll drink it.” You had to be going insane. The idea of drinking more made your stomach lurch. Strade however, seemed pleased. 

“Sure thing, tell ya what… I’ll even let you hold the glass yourself.” Was he going to free your hands? Thoughts raced, of action movie scenes. Smashing his head into the concrete, making your getaway while he was dazed. 

But all he did was free one hand from the rope, before making sure the other was tied securely to the pole. With that, he set the glass down in front of you and backed off, arms crossed, watching. 

You swallowed thickly. This would do nothing to quench your thirst. If anything it would make it worse… But it had to be better than whatever else he was thinking about doing. 

You grabbed the glass, listening to the small “tink” of it on the concrete. Just… Hold your breath and guzzle it down. It would be easy. It had to be easy. 

You raised the lip of the glass to your mouth, and squeezed your eyes shut before tilting your head back. 

The taste of chemicals flooded your mouth again, irritating and grating against all your nerves. Your instincts were screaming at you to spit it out, as the oil slipped between your molars and under your tongue, coated your gums. 

You suppressed your gag reflex and swallowed it. You fucking swallowed it. 

The second gulp wasn’t any easier, your stomach twisting as the foreign contents splashed inside it. You had to fight down another gag as you forced a third mouthful down your throat. 

Then the glass was smacking against the concrete, a small crack forming in it from the force as you hunched over, gasping for air, tears filling your eyes and overflowing. 

It was empty though. You were safe. You did it. You looked up at Strade, blinking tears from your eyes. 

Strade whistled, looking impressed. You’d impressed him. That had to be good. 

“You really seemed to enjoy that, buddy!” You didn’t. Strade reached behind him and pulled a bottle off the counter. You squinted at it, some kind of brand name… 10W-30… 

The fucking motor oil. 

“I bet you’d like another glass.” He was approaching, looking at the cup, shaking the bottle of motor oil. He was teasing you. He was fucking with you. 

He had to be. He knelt down again, looking at the cup, then at you. 

“Don’t you?” he pressed. You what? Strade made a show of looking over at the wall, and you followed his gaze. The saw stared back at you, teeth glinting in the light. 

“Yes!” You answered before you could even understand what you were doing. “Please! I’ll take another glass.”  

His laugh echoed off the walls. It bounced around inside your head. The “glug” sound of oil being poured went straight to your spine, it sent horrible shudders down it. Another glass. Another glass. Another glass.

“Bon Appetit” His accent made you think he’d spoken German again, before you recognized the words. Words you’d heard at french restaurants and from romantic movies. 

Enjoy your meal. 

Somehow you didn’t think you’d find this on the menu at Mirazur. 

Your hand was shaking annoyingly as you grabbed the glass again. The oil spilt over the sides, down your hand. You’d wasted some. 

This time as you brought it to your lips you smelt it. It had an odd sweet smell to it. Something coppery as well. 

You inhaled the scent deeply, it wasn’t all too bad. Then you took another sip. 

A gag. A choke. You began to cough. The glass fell from your hands and shattered across the floor. 

The honey colored liquid spread across the floor, taking shards of glass with it. Something was running from your nose. Something was leaving specks of red in the puddle. Strade was whistling, saying something. 

Your nose was bleeding. You raised your free hand to wipe it, before your stomach gave another horrible lurch. You swallowed back the rising bile. You couldn’t. He’d count it as erased progress. You couldn’t. 

It rose again, and you nearly swallowed your own tongue to keep it back. An odd choking noise, then hot and foamy liquid began to spew from your mouth. You hunched forward. 

You couldn’t keep it down. It spread like the waves at the beach did across sand. Thinning as it got farther away from its source, pushing whatever was in its path, splattering and splashing. 

The taste of acid and chemicals and oil made your head spin. Or was that just because you were unable to breath, your stomach continuously cramping and forcing you to continue. 

You used your free hand to support yourself, feeling some of the stray glass from the cup cut into your fingers. A stream of red to join the foul yellow sea that had begun to grow in the basement. 

Boots stomping through it, not caring about the muck, approaching you. You gave a final hiccup, your stomach cramping one last time, having given all it had to give. 

You expected a hand in your hair, pushed forward into your own mess. Demanding you to clean it up. A boot into your stomach maybe, forcing you to continue to vomit despite your emptied stomach. 

Instead there was just a hand on your back, it was rubbing slowly. Strade was making a “tut tut” sound with his tongue. 

He was kneeling next to you, careful to keep his pants out of the vomit. Another hand on your shoulder, sitting you up. Sitting up made it easier to breathe, the back of your head hitting the pole as you raised your nose to the ceiling. 

The force of your vomit had caused you to break out in sweat, and you shivered at the sudden cold of the basement. 

“Want me to help you with that?” Strade asked. He didn’t wait for a reply, you didn’t know what he wanted to help with, until he was pinching your nose. Brief panic, then realization. He was talking about your bloody nose. 

You stared at him, he looked mildly amused, but there was something else in his expression. Something you hadn’t seen before. You both stared at each other for a few minutes before Strade let go of your nose. 

“I better get this place hosed down.” he muttered, standing and shaking the mess off his boots. “Tell you what, I’ll let you have a drink from the hose! As a reward.” He grinned, ruffling your hair. 

You could barely speak, your tongue felt like sandpaper, your throat like a dessert. 

“Water?” you asked, the effort to say a single word making your vocal chords crackle and pop. 

“Water.” Strade replied, with a smile and a nod of his head.

[katyawriteswhump]

The Highwayman, the Stableboy & the Christmas Bride (Stobin/Minor Steddie)

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles Day 17--Platonic Stobin Day. When Robin is forced into an arranged marriage, she and Steve take drastic action...

WC: 939. Rating: T.

CW: none really. Tags: Historical AU. Minor Steddie. Crossdressing. A bit silly.

***

Lady Roberta burst into the stable-block, petticoats trailing in the muck. She flung her arms around Steve: “It’s horrible enough that I’m marrying a man three times my age—and that he’s a man! Why does it have to be at Christmas?”

“I suppose Lady Buckley was trying to soften the blow.” Steve rested his cheek on her hair, rubbed circles on her back. In all their years of friendship, he’d never seen her so distraught. “Surely Lord Hootenanny’s fortune cheers you?”

“I couldn’t care less.” Robin sniffed hard, in her wonderfully un-ladylike manner. “Maybe you can become his stableboy and leave with me?”

“I suppose you’ll still require a snot-rag, but… uh…” The tremble in his voice betrayed him. She peeped up, wiped her eyes—pushed his hair from his brow and gasped. 

Damn. He’d wished to conceal his latest bruise.

“What happened?”

“Your fiancé’s boot collided with my face. Apparently, his stirrups weren’t shiny enough. I don’t think he’s going to want me.”

The determined jut of her chin was as distressing to Steve as her tears. “We must run away. There’s no other choice.”

“You say that every week. We’ll be caught, and you’ll have to marry him anyway.”

 And I’ll be flogged to within an inch of my life. Or, just as likely, hanged.

“If we don’t run, we’ll never see each other again. I’ll miss everything about you—even the stink of the horses. You’re my best and only friend.” Her head sank to his shoulder again. “But I don’t want you getting hurt.”

I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Or of you living in the power of that violent bastard.

He groaned softly. She was right. They had no choice.

***

After midnight struck, he scaled a rope to her window. She threw up the sash, and he scrambled through. He thrust at her the bundle he carried, which had made climbing harder than usual: “These riding britches should fit you fine. You got the gown for me?”

She gestured to some crinolines on her four-poster bed. “There you go—one of my maid’s. I adjusted it myself.”

While she changed in her closet, he slid the gown on. It slipped straight down and puddled around his boots. “I see your legendary needlework has not improved,” he grumbled. She emerged, looking delighted and dashing in her britches.

As she pinned the gown about him, however, her hands trembled, and terror gripped him too. Lady Roberta would hopefully pass for her twin brother under the shadows of night. Her rogue of a brother was often seen sloping around with serving wenches—hence Steve’s heinous disguise. The plan after that, nevertheless, was fraught with even greater danger. 

Riding together on her brother’s horse, they made it through the village. Steve cursed the skirts that forced him to sit before her, side-saddle, with the pommel gouging his thigh. Once into the forest, a full moon lit their path, ensuring they remained vulnerable prey to pursuers from Buckley Towers, or…

Robin gasped, hastened their trot. 

“What is it?” asked Steve.

“Pursuers. Only one, mayhap. We can out-speed them.”

His heart lurched miserably. “Are you insane? On a steed carrying two? Sweet Jesus, I feel my neck stretching already.”

“If we die, Steve, I vow we die together.” 

He clung, white-knuckled, to the saddle. Robin pushed into a gallop. Their pursuer proved not only faster, but knew the terrain better and overtook them. Soon, a vast stallion and its rider blocked the track, silhouetted against the moonshine. Could this be a henchman of Lord Hootenanny, who would flay Steve alive on the spot?

“Get out of our way, or I’ll blow your brains out!”  That was Robin, who’d whipped out… “I stole one of Papa’s duelling pistols,” she whispered.

“Maybe you should first ask if I be friend or foe?” came a reply that set Steve’s heart hammering more excitedly than ever.

“This is your last chance!” Robin sounded desperate, out of her mind. “Let us pass, or—”

“Robin, no!” He grabbed her arm. Her shot flew wide. The blast and recoil sent them tumbling from the saddle of the spooked horse in a cloud of choking gunpowder. They landed in the mud, in a tangle of his petticoats. Ow, ow, ow! My ribs! The whalebone corset had been a terrible idea. His ears rang with the crack of the pistol, and the sound of a familiar laugh.

“Eddie?”

“Stevie, my lad, I thought it be you. Why are ye banged up like a doxy?”

“You know him?” asked Robin; damn, he was glad she was alright. “What’s a doxy and why are they banged up?”

“He wants to know why I’m dressed like a whore.” Steve took Eddie’s hand, who dragged him to his feet. Steve offered Robin the same assistance but found her scrambling up, unaided. “Meet my lover, Robin. Hellfire Eddie.”

“The infamous highwayman?”

“One and the same.” Steve turned to Eddie. “I didn’t think you’d get my message so soon.”

“My spies act fast,” said Eddie, slapping Steve’s padded derriere.

“Not in front of a lady!” seethed Steve.

Lady Roberta, however, looked pleased as punch. “Can we join your gang? Oh my goodness, I can become a notorious highwaywoman!” She flung her arms around Steve and smacked a kiss on his cheek. “Steve, this is singularly fortuitous. Our lives can start over.”

“Till we ALL get hanged,” mumbled Steve.

Eddie insisted Steve rode with him, rather than Robin, for the journey back to his thieves’ lair. 

“Then out of that ridiculous finery,” husked Eddie. “You know I like to wear the petticoats when I plow ye.”

***

Thank you for reading :)

[dancegender]

You guys, I wrote another fic. I had this idea while I was procrastinating in geometry. Hope you like it!

@astronic-fr (Not sure if you wanna be tagged, but you like the last one, so *shrug* just lmk if I should remove it)

I'll Be With You From Dawn Till Dusk (Baby I'm Right Here)

Thad trekked through the frozen terrain, kicking up chunks of snow as he went. He'd been free that Friday, so he decided to walk from the colony to the corpse spire, both to take some more resources to Uzi and to just hang out. At this point, he was used to the long commute, so he felt okay with leaving at night to make sure he arrived at a good time. He was being more cautious as of late, though; the new WDF had decided to start setting up traps surrounding the colony, and he didn't feel like getting caught in one.

He was coming up on a dilapidated building, one of the usual landmarks on his journey. As he approached, though, he thought he noticed an offputting sound, almost like a nervous mumbling. He thought his audio processors were faulty at first, but a quick scan of the area immediately proved otherwise. Spotting a hole in the street a few yards away, Thad approached, the mumbling getting louder. A dark shape sat next to the hole, sharply contrasting with the snow. Thad picked it up and sighed, turning the all-too-familiar pilot hat over in his hands.

"N and M's?" Thad peered into the hole, interrupting the babbling drone inside. N flinched with a yelp, frantically whipping his head upwards. He sighed upon seeing Thad, shoulders visibly relaxing.

"Thad! Oh, you have no idea how happy I am to see you!"

"Hey, man!" Thad tossed the hat down to N, who caught it and put it on. "You look a little stuck."

"Yeah, I'm not doing good." N chuckled nervously, banging the wall with his fist. "This pit's too deep for me to climb out, and too narrow for me to spread my wings and fly out. I've just been kinda stuck here."

"I could throw you a rope or something," Thad offered, scanning the area for some sort of anchor. His eyes snapped back to the hole when he heard N's voice, glitchy and distorted.

"Is-is there aNYTHing you-ou could USE?" N swayed, slumping over against the wall of the pit. A warning flashed on his visor, reading 'DANGER: High Temperature'.

Thad looked off to the horizon, swearing under his breath; the sun was coming up. He remembered Uzi telling him something about how easy it was for disassembly drones to overheat. Panic immediately started running through his processor. Without really thinking, Thad sprinted towards an abandoned car on the side of the road and popped the hood. Tearing the hood off its hinges, he sprinted back again and slammed the car hood down on top of the pit.

A few seconds passed, then a few minutes. Thad sat next to his makeshift shade, nervously listening for movement. Eventually, he could hear the faint sounds of a system reboot from underneath the tarnished metal.

"...Hello?" Thad loudly exhaled at the sound of N's voice, laughing weakly.

"Oh, thank Robo Jesus," Thad knocked on the car hood. "You feeling okay in there? Nearly lost you for a second."

"A little woozy... but I think I'm alright. That was some fast acting, Thad."

"Yeah, well I'm not a running back for nothing." Thad rummaged through his bag of supplies until he found what he was looking for: two of the canisters that N and V used to store extra oil. "Brace yourself, I'm gonna try something."

Thad used the canisters to prop the hood up in a ramp, opening facing away from the sun. He looked in, seeing N's face light up. He extended a hand toward Thad, and Thad took it, squeezing tightly.

"Looks like we'll have to wait until nightfall to get you outta there," Thad laid down on the snow facing N, propping himself up on his forearms. "Better get comfy."

They spent hours talking aimlessly about their respective lives. Uzi's new rail gun was coming along nicely; she was almost ready to start testing it out. Thad explained the basics of football strategy to N, who listened intently.

"That sounds pretty easy," he commented, studying the field plans Thad passed him.

"You'd probably be pretty good at it," Thad was tracing meaningless shapes into the snow with his fingers. "Strategy plays a huge role in football. You and V would have to be good at strategizing with the amount of hunting you do. Thad's eyes lit up.

"Ooh, that reminds me!" He rummaged through the supplies bag, pulling out a handheld device of some kind. He held it up to N. "Do you know what chess is?"

"Hm..." N brought his hand up to his chin, scratching it lightly. "I think I've heard of it before. No idea how to play, though."

"No problem, I can show you," Thad powered on the device, a perfectly set chessboard appearing on the screen. He handed it to N and began explaining the rules of chess.

They sat like that forever. Passing the chessboard back and forth, chatting - enjoying each other's company. It was nice; spending time with N was always nice. Thad wished he got to do it more often. That N wasn't so far away.

"Looks like the sun's setting," Thad squinted into the distance. "I should probably start looking for something we can use to get you out."

"I'll be looking forward to it," N paused for a second. "Hey... Thad?"

"Hm?" Thad looked at N through the gap between the oil canisters. N raised his hand, almost hesitantly, and held it slightly out. Thad moved to N's level, awkwardly interlocking their hands.

"Thank you for staying with me," There was a slight shake in N's voice as he spoke, eyes incredibly focused on the wall to his left.

"N, listen..." Thad mumbled, running his thumb over N's knuckles. "I don't think I could ever pass up a chance to hang out with you."

Getting N out of the hole was relatively easy; all it took was a sturdy anchor and some discarded cable. Once freed from confinement, N immediately wrapped Thad in the strongest hug he could muster. Thad felt himself shifting a little more of his weight into N than he normally would.

"C'mon, we should probably get to the spire," N released Thad, who staggered slightly at the loss of support. "I gotta let V know I'm still alive. D'you think you can make the walk, or should we fly over?"

Flying wasn't very high on Thad's transportation list. The last time he'd flown was when N brought him and Uzi back to the colony, and they'd had a pretty rough landing. Now, though, realizing just how tired he was starting to get, Thad was in no position to refuse.

The flight to the spire was actually pretty calming. It was easier when N wasn't trying to fly with two passengers. It definitely wasn't making Thad any less tired, though. Resting his head on top of N's, he felt a familiar jolt in his chin. He could tell what it was by the way N's breath hitched, but he was too drowsy to really care. He wasn't sure how much longer they'd be flying for, but he let himself drift off to sleep regardless.

[simtleman]

The Claythorpe mansion was, for sure, an oasis amidst the chaos that it was the always crowded town of Brindleton Bay. Located in the remote island formerly known as Deadgrass Isle, it could only be reached by a boat that crossed the ocean all the way from Whiskerman's Wharf a few times a day, depending on the weather. Its isolation was the exact reason why Edna Claythorpe had her breathtaking Regency style mansion built in 1912, during the peak of her popularity as an actress. She needed a place to rest from the spotlight and somewhere to raise her beloved son Cooper, away from all the noise that she was forced to face due to her profession.

And talking about the weather, that particular afternoon the sun shined like no other, a soft breeze tickled the leaves of the trees and the waves of the sea broke against the rocks peacefully. That place truly was a piece of heaven where one could escape from it all.

While doing some gardening, Mr. Tackett sighted a small boat approaching the docks from the far.

— Must be either Mrs. Claythorpe's son or Reverend Da Gioia. At last.

As he went down the hill, he saw Cooper tend his hand to help Vivienne get out of the boat gently.

— Welcome back, Mr. Claythorpe!

— Ah, Tackett! Always in time. It's good to see you, my man!

Once Cooper had finished helping Vivienne, he turned around and shook Mr. Tackett's hand.

— I trust the trip wasn't too much of a hassle?

— Not at all, Mrs. Vivienne got a little bit seasick as per usual... but that's about it. Could you please be a champ and help us with the luggage?

— Why don't go see your mother, Mr. Claythorpe? I'm positive she was waiting for your arrival with great expectation. I'll take care of the luggage.

— You sure?

— Thank you, Tackett— said Vivienne.

The couple left Mr. Tackett behind and walked towards the house.

— Why don't you go get ready for supper while I go talk to mother, my dear? There's something I'd like to discuss with her privately.

— You think the pool will be fine to be used? I'd like to go for a swim first if we still have time before dinner... it is so nice out here it'd be a shame not to!

— Sure thing, you go do that then. I'll catch up with you later.

The backyard pool was Vivienne's favorite part of the house. She had always loved swimming, it helped her out disassociating from everything. Plus, and since her mother in law was terrified of water, it was the only spot in the mansion where she knew for a fact she would never run into her.

Something was off with her that afternoon, though. While doing a few laps in the pool, the same old memory came back unannounced to hunt her.

If she closed her eyes, she could still see it vividly. The creak of the door opening, the flickering of the oil lamp flame and hanging there, right in front of her... mother. Pale as snow, cold as ice. And that purpleness around her neck, where the rope was tighting her muscles. That awful shade of purple she had never been able to forget since.

Vivienne shook her head and decided she had had enough swimming for the day. She removed her swimming bonnet, grabbed a towel, dried herself off a bit and then laid it out on the lounge chair.

— I'm sick of all this— she whispered to herself.

PREVIOUS POST | NEXT POST

[digimonloving]

What kind of Digimons do the Death Generals have if they become a parent? (Baby 1 - Child) and who brags about their kids the most?

Olegmon

Olegmon is adopting ANY Baby 1 he finds that's abandoned as he's usually too busy. Usually it's aquatic-Digimon based, so any Baby 1 Digimon that eventually digivolve into aquatic Digimon are what he has and takes care of (not always the case, but it's the main deal for him). Olegmon ABSOLUTELY brags about his children, and how well they're doing, to anyone who will listen to him. The crew also care for the little ones, too, showing them the ropes of everything, too. Olegmon spoils his kids, but he does make sure that they understand to be kind enough and to be outgoing as well.

Splashmon

Splashmon must have accidentally, somehow, adopted a Baby 1. He doesn't know how to care for kids, and having one of his own didn't sound like something he'd do... how he ended up with this little one is beyond him. And yet here he is, not leaving it somewhere for the Digital World to deal with in its own way. Brags about his child 100% after a while of taking care of them, because he has to let everyone know HIS kid is the best, and the most beautiful, out of the others.

Zamielmon

Leafmon! Leafmon is his child (that seemed to come out of nowhere, not even those who follow him know where his little baby came from) and he absolutely is taking care of that little baby!! Zamielmon spoils the little Leafmon rotten, but the baby doesn't turn out that bad despite how he was spoiled. Zamielmon totally brags about his child to Olegmon and Apollomon mostly when it comes down to it, because the three take it as playful competitive match compared to the others, who are way too much.

Gravimon

Who gave this man a Baby 1? Funny enough probably has a Poyomon for his child. He keeps his young one with him at all times. Because Poyomon is so light and squishy, the small baby simply settles inside of Gravimon's hair. Gravimon cares for the little one the best he is able, always having small snacks to give the little Baby 1 when they complain about being hungry. Not really one to brag, does it subtly o "humble" brags about his little child.

Apollomon

Apollomon has a Sunmon! Really, though, he'd adopt so many Baby 1 Digimon if he knew they didn't have anyone to care for them. He just has so much love to give, and that mane of his is the perfect, warm place for Baby 1 Digimon to cuddle in and hang out inside! He playfully brags about his kids with Zamielmon and Olegmon - but they don't take it as a full competition. Their kids get along so well! Apollomon Whispered is just the same, though, he brags a little too much about his child compared to his counterpart...

Dorbickmon

Dorbickmon has two Baby 1 Digimon as his children: Jyarimon, and Botamon. Two Digimon that have great potential when it comes to Digivolving into powerful draconic Digimon. He's actually a pretty good dad to them, too, because he wants them to grow up powerful and strong, with all the pride a draconic Digimon should have. ABSOLUTELY brags about hid children and makes it a point to show his kids are better and stronger than the other Death General's kids.

NeoMyotismon

NeoMyotismon has Kuramon for children. Be they adopted or not, nobody really knows. He still cares for them - as much as a Digimon like him can. The little Kuramon practically cling onto him, and he doesn't even seem to mind it one bit when they do. They love him! He doesn't quite brag about them, keeping his comments to himself when he sees the other Death Generals. The Kuramon usually cling onto him wherever he goes... so they're always bound to meet the other Death General kids when they go to meet.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

I Am So Glad You Asked!!!

So basically... Tokitoswap! a swap au in which the tokis and the kamados swap roles-- yui swapping w/ tan, and mui swapping with nezzy. 

aka: Two Twins Have A Bit Of A Worse Time Than Usual And Suddenly Find Themselves In The Middle Of A Thousand Year Struggle Between Humans And Demons (Which Are Real By The Way)!

. it also happens to be an exercize in having a concept, going “hey, wouldnt it be funny if--?” and then it sticks and you have to commit. i keep trying to explain in a way that Makes Sense, but im gonna be honest. theres just So Fucking Much going on and ive been trying to write this for hours and i dont even know where to start summarizing WAHAHAH. i dont know if its very Canon Aligned but it sure is very Me Aligned and i sure am gonna commit to the bit! anyway. 

its heavily in-progress and was supposed to be a clean one-role swap but! Well!!!! It Sure Isn’t Anymore!!! 

under the cut since im Incapable of keeping things short:

funy lil swap au! ft:  Yui: “Older” Brother who Thinks he’s in charge. a beleaguered 14-year-old who stumbled into being a slayer and super isn’t prepared for this. Unfortunately, having your sole remaining family turn into a demon is kind of antithetical to “go home and pretend nothing happened.” he is handling this very well. (lie) a user of wind-breathing, his main priority is keeping him and mui safe, and is a bit overprotective. which is a problem, since mui will charge headfirst into the first sign of danger to protect him. their relationship is a bit messy, but they’re pretty much the only thing holding each other together. a kid trying so hard to act bigger than he is-- and inevitably, routinely failing.

Mui: Odd Little Creacher secretly hiding Rage More Powerful Than A Thousand Suns. just barely surviving the attack of their family one fateful night by That Man, he manages to completely break the curse and hunger or being a demon through his own sheer will. unfortunately, he also completely loses control of himself and, in order to make sure that energy doesnt completely tear him apart, his consciousness completely mists over-- leaving him rather airheaded and distant in an attempt to hold back the roaring of a new power he cannot control. . but hes so silly!! ^w^ couldn’t hurt a fly!!

Murata: Some Fucking Guy who just so happened to get roped into all this. is just absolutely baffled this kid is out here slaying demons like this, and is honestly doing his best to make sure he doesn’t stupidly get himself killed. despite being at a higher rank than them, though, he’s kind of... well, he hasn’t gotten the hang of water-breathing techniques. try as he might, he just cant quite reach the same skill level as some of his peers. even still though, he has to keep trying. he has a job to do, and promises to keep. 

Susamaru: Professionally identifies as a Problem. a user of beast-breathing, she just kind of... shows up one day and starts antagonizing. originally started fighting the twins for the honestly-kind-of-reasonable reason of “That Kid Is A Demon And Thats A Fucking Problem” but got distracted messing with yui enough to get. kinda curious about the other one. she’s loud and brash and fucking annoying, but at some point she just... asserted herself. and never left.  she’s an odd case. ridiculously skilled at the whole slaying-demons thing, she just... doesnt seem to take things seriously. has a penchant for irritating people on purpose-- but its purely for the extent of understanding how they work. what makes them tick. she’s here for a good time, not a long time. most of her peers don’t like her much, but once she’s decided that she likes someone, theres very little she wont do for them. and these nerds just so happen to be next on the list. 

. all in all, its just these dorks against the world. there’s just. a ridiculous amount of mess ive written about how they function and how their arcs shape up, and while there Are some other roles and etc written up, my brain has been completely laser focused on These Four In Particular, so . \o/ ! anyway, heres a bunch of ambient sketches from all over the place of Them(tm)

[isabelguerra]

boys im gonna be honest i’m deep in my ‘i am never going to post wizard au’ era again both because of The Elephant In The Room and also its so much god damn work. its so much work. im not gonna do that in my free time. so since i know there were people invested in the fic series and worldlore or whatever why dont we just talk about it instead. its got wizards. its got izjo. you wanna hear about the 6 year long wizard izjo slowburn? i can talk for ages about the 6 year long wizard izjo slowburn.

eightfold is a giant spider isabel sneaks into the library when theyre first years but by second year shes gotten too big to keep hiding. isabel tries sneaking out to help her escape but johnny catches her in the act so he gets roped in and it turns into a whole heist sneaks to get eightfold out of the wizard castle unnoticed without getting caught. at midnight. saying bye is bittersweet but on the walk back they start bickering as usual and they hate each other so much but oops oh no wait this is fun. they’re having fun actually. haha get back here. and they get back 2 dorms safe and giggling and shoving each other and its nice and isabel opens up a little bit and says thanks for being there that was super annoying but cough uh. ended up being really nice and shes glad he was there. it was nice not being alone while saying bye to her best friend. so she GUESSES maybe he isnt SO bad or whatever. and then puts the bravado back on and is grinning wide and laughing again and haha oh man did he see that ghost in the corridor with the- but johnny is NOT listening. he is still stuck on ‘i had a nice time being around you’ (<- he is unused to positive reinforcement. he is accustomed to the norm of ‘(i think) people (my friends) like me because im good at exerting myself over others in a way that makes them feel bad but makes us feel good’ and not ‘i enjoyed being around you just for you’) and is not taking it well. also very jarred and offput by the new side of his wizard sport partner, very thrown off kilter. thrown off his groove. they NEVER have good times together. like they dont have BAD times but this has never been like A Thing before but she just said it so now it IS and. okay. maybe he had fun. maybe he DID have fun. and maybe shes good to push against cause she pushes back and maybe he can admire or at least respect the tenacity it takes to do that with him. and maybe it feels cool when that look get in her eye and he knows hes in for a good duel or like shes not looking like that now but this is fine too yknow. like the warm smiling and goofy laughing and dorm fireplace lighting and the tired soft look hes never seen her with before is fine no biggie he doesnt mind. but yes he does hes freaked out. so he bolts and thinks ‘surely that isn’t something i gotta worry about’ and then worries about for the next 6 years

isabel has a tendency to keep even her closest friends a little at bay but unfortunately thats very hard to do when you share a wizard commonroom with a loudmouthed fire hazard who is also your wizard sport partner. so they end up spending a lot of time together thanks to proximity. proximity after about 3 years turns to tentative friendship. tentative friendship after 4 years turns to ‘at the point of late night study sessions draped across each other on the couch because we have shit to do and im not letting you fail because if you do you wont be able to play in the next match and if we lose cause of it im kicking your ass’ (<- ‘i like hanging out with you’). the others come over often but theres only so much time you can spend with someone who is not in your wizard school group versus someone who is and is around you 24/7. so theyre not bffs yes but they might as well be. so one day theyre learning about some idk wizard beast and oops forgot to bow or whatever, johnny gets owned and so ollie&isabel take him 2 the nurse. the catalyst here is isabel knows by now that this is someone she cares about and considers a friend but shes REALLY caught off guard at just how MUCH this is stressing her out. not wizard game related. not in a bickery play way. she doesnt know when she started caring so much, but now she IS and hes someone important to her. and hes hurt. and shes going to stay in this god damn infirmary pacing and foot tapping and doing jumping jacks to get out the energy while her brain goes 100000 miles per second. and she does that for about 4 hours. anyway johnnys fine but even after hes fine isabel is still stuck with the ‘why was That my reaction’ realization. and the answer is she li

6th year max gets his ass thrown in the trio sorcerer championship and literally all his suffering is secondary because this is an izjo au. both their feelings are still there both of them still have no idea what to do with them or how to get them out in normal ass ways. so first night back to school johnny dares everyone to sneak into the woods after curfew and see who lasts longer. hes not 12 anymore but he is 16 which arguably is worse. the bullying has lessened the scoundrelism has amplified. everyone gets terrified. scatters. haha oh its you (record scratch) guess we’re walking around the spooky woods trying to find our friends! gee the atmosphere and flustered skittishness i get around you that makes me uncomfortable because i dont know how to deal with it SURE IS amplified right now! better fall back on familiar tactics and scenarios: friendly frustrated bickering and mild threats of violence. they get in a verbal fight and have a ‘would you shut up’ ‘why dont you make me’ ‘And Then They Kiss’ moment while the emotions are super heightened and isabel, who initiated it, isabel kissed him first, then proceeds to realize what she did and loses her god damn mind freaking out and apologizing while johnny stands there totally frozen and maybe for the first time ever shocked into total speechlessness. and then max falls out of a tree and ollie finds them and ed and rj are with them and sos stephen so theyre like HAHA OKAY GANG ! GREAT DARE ! LETS HEAD BACK NOW ! and johnny lays awake in bed that night kicking his feet in the air

wizard prom in december. they dont go together because theyre idiots and not at that point where asking someone (each other) to wizard prom is something they can do. but they both break away from the crowd at similar times and end up hanging out most of the night, which jsabel gets in trouble with her grandpa for, but before then she has a lot more fun. they ditch the wizard prom hall and go romp around campus and the sports pitch and they Dont Talk About What Happened In September. they dont. its unspoken. if you bring it back up that means its real. oh hey wait hold on whats that. what is that. is that- oh damn its that one plant. with the- yeah its the winter holiday kiss tradition plant. where like if its over you you gotta kiss. yeah like on the mouth. wow that’s crazy. ahahahah damn well yknow it IS the rules so they should probably- cause yknow like, so they, yknow, yeah. yeah like with lips and stuff. man thats sooooo lame and sucky too bad the plant rules say we gotta :/ shoot that sure blows :/ crazy how this world works. cringe. anyway so about that ki- and then max walks in .2 seconds beforehand and ruins the moment and its funny because i like torturing him. max tells ksabel Hey Uh We Gotta Do The Closing Dance Okay Bye. spells broken though and she leaves they do not kiss. but theyre both left with the knowledge that the other person WANTED to enough that they were willing to exploit a cliche social tradition just to find an excuse for it.

im so tired i keep fading jn and out of consciousness writing this. isabels wizard fear monster (franciso) fucks her up pretty badly. she runs out of the classroom back to the wizard dorms, youll never believe who goes after to check on her. T 60k+ slowburn, hurt/comfort, fluff, pep talks, Decisions Made Under High Emotions (second kiss) (johnny initiated kiss) (isabel is getting kissed this time) (hes standing right behind me isnt he) max walks in on them again. isabel is bluescreening. johny promptly leaves. max her best friend max is like ‘i would like to stop always seeing you guys about to lip lock’ isabel wants to be swallowed by the ground. i cant finish this im so tired. look at my comprehensive au romcom plotlines boy

[larathia]

My take on Dazai’s bandages.

‘Cos everyone has to have one, right? Right. And I can’t say I haven’t spent a while thinking about this.

Like juuuust about everything else about Dazai, I think the bandages are multipurpose.

Firstly - you have to remember that Dazai cannot be magically healed. He’s like the only guy in the entire setting that cannot receive magic healing of any kind. His power just nullifies it.

That means that any and every time he gets hurt...it has to heal the slow way. He’s also suicidal and has been for quite some time. So yes, I do think some of those bandages are working at their intended purpose. Probably at any given time Dazai’s healing from at least one injury; it’s not like he’s ever in a low-risk job, after all, or that he ever shies away from potentially being shot or knifed.

No, I do not think Dazai’s into cutting. Cutting is, at its core, about using external pain as a distraction from internal pain. Dazai’s been very clear and on the record about not liking pain. So while I’m reasonably certain he’s got suicide attempt scars on his forearms, they’re going to be the ‘down the block’ variety, not ‘across the street’, and honestly I think the bandages are just there so no one sees the scars. I think the ones at his throat are likely in the same vein - literally. Ugly, visible scars that suggest having tried to cut his own throat, or rope burns from attempting to hang himself.

Dazai is overtly suicidal, but he hates it when other people talk to him about his death wish. He deflects almost immediately if a topic’s brought up that would make someone (who’d care) start thinking “but what if”. He wants to die, yes, but he doesn’t want other people worrying about him dying.

Bandages hide more than scars. This is, I think, the major secondary purpose of his bandages. He’s canonically hidden all kinds of things in those wrappings, from lockpicks to body armor. Dazai is a huge lover of misdirection, and his bandages are very definitely part of that love. People see bandages, and they think wounds, weakness. Or they see the placement and think ‘crazy, suicidal’. Either way, they are not thinking ‘dangerous opponent’. Dazai has generally loved it when his enemies underestimate him; it’s like they’re doing half of his job for him, and he’s canonically lazy.

This actually extends to his Mafia days habit of keeping one eye bandaged. It’s an old swordsman’s trick (I think the books mention Fukuzawa is fond of this one, too) to keep one eye closed when outside, so that when you go indoors you can see even if it’s much darker there - your closed eye doesn’t have to adjust to the dimness, and it’s therefore harder to take you by surprise.

And we know that in his mafia days, Dazai was a LOT more paranoid than he is now.

Lastly, though, I think the bandages give other people something to see.

I ...may have to explain this. Y’see, when I watch Dazai, I see a character who only likes to be noticed on his own terms. If he’s jacknifed in a barrel, it’s because he wants you to see him that way. But sometimes he doesn’t have control over other people seeing him in what are, basically, ridiculous or foolish situations. (Like, forex, getting caught in a trawler net because he was trying to drown himself again. Or being seen being moody at Oda’s grave.)

Dazai will usually resort to jokes and/or clowning at times like this, because he wants to SEE, but does not want to BE SEEN. (One can speculate as to the why of that all one likes; whether he’s sure that being seen will mean being hated, or mocked, or whatever. The why is secondary to the what; the man does not like feeling Seen.)

I think the bandages are, in a way, his shield against the world. They’re part of the persona he creates. Something he can make you see that isn’t HIM, not really.

[rosefrancaise8]

Lessons learned while on this canal joy ride (in no particular order)

Never go for the cheapest boat option - you will always come across someone whose boat is designed without internal steps, with a bigger bed, a separate toilet and a conventional shower that you can stand under - and then you will wish that you had paid through the nose for it.

There are significant advantages to living in such a small space. The rose` in the fridge is always within arms reach of the kitchen table as is the quiche in the oven. Our apartment at home seems altogether too big now.

Don’t skimp on insurance, especially if you are renting a boat with no forward thrusters - which sounds personal but refers to the boat’s ability to manoeuvre sideways at a moment’s notice. We think we took our own advice but will know for sure when the boat company inspects the boat tomorrow.

Ignore at least half the instructions about what to bring - especially the need for gloves and boat shoes. We used the gloves precisely twice to grip the ropes and then trusted to our innate abilities to hang on for grim death - and we saw not a single drop of moisture on the deck that would cause us to slip over on our high heels.

Ignore the people who say that you need to be able to speak French - it is true that compared to other parts of France that we know there is less English spoken, however people are extremely helpful and eager to understand. Actually David and I part company on this one a bit because as the person least able to speak French on this boat it would have been nice to be able to chat to the lock keepers once in a while and understand the directions they were giving me before I saw panic in their eyes.

One never looks forward to a night in a hotel more than when one has been attempting to sleep and bathe in a little Penichette for 7 nights.

French markets are the best! We bought a huge container of Paella at the Malestoit market this morning because we knew we would be some way from a village when hunger struck. We timed our stop so that David could join his online poetry group, a happy memory in itself. Were it not for that Paella, we would not have known where our next meal was coming from and that is a dangerous situation in a Penichette. I also bought a brightly patterned cotton scarf from the market to go with my chunky blue jumper from Trieste. It was a very chilly morning so I slung it around my neck in my usual devil may care fashion. The stall holder, a man in his 50s, was appalled and hastily retied it for me in such a way that it wouldn’t come adrift. It was good to see at this market the same old underwear stalls for women of a certain age that we have always seen, though at what age I wonder would one finally succumb to their daggy charms.

Driving a barge along a canal is a perfect way to experience the country you are in. You have a destination to reach and you arrange your days around it. You have the luxury of time because these boats are not built for speed and the lock keepers aren't meant to rush around filling and then emptying their locks so that you can go hurtling along at breakneck speed along their canals. If another boat beats you into a lock or comes into the lock behind you (as we experienced for the first time today) everything takes twice as long. You are forced to sit and watch the world by go and reflect on whether the Cormorant you see swimming around with only the very top of its slim neck visible above the water is the same one you saw a kilometre back, and how distant that faraway cuckoo bird call might be. And you can bide your time in the back room of a little cafe, drinking cafe au lait with the locals while you wait for the locks to open at 9am, before which nothing happens on a canal.

It has been a wonderful trip and we are so glad to have experienced it. I will start posting again when we are in Greece.

[barbex]

happy DADWC!! sending you “You’re always on my mind.” for anyone from the da2 gang :)

Thank you for this @dadrunkwriting prompt! I wrote a little something for Merrill x Isabela.

---

Merrill lost her twine. Usually, the little ribbons tied to door hinges and lamps help her find her way home, but this part of the city has no ribbons. Maybe someone took them off. Or maybe she's never been in this part of the city. 

The air smells different, salty. She must be close to the docks. The cobblestones under her feet have deep grooves from carts being pulled to the markets. Cobblestones are strange, hard but smooth and all so uniform. They don't tell the stories of the seasons, or of those who travelled here. No paw prints hold on the smooth surface, no marks from feet or even shoes. Just dirt collecting in the gaps, nameless and lifeless grit from countless feet and carts. 

Merrill keeps walking, keeping to the side of the road, where weeds grow in the gaps. Occasionally, someone bumps into her, scowling and swearing at her, but most of the time, the path of the weeds is hers alone. 

At last, she reaches the docks. This is familiar, she's been here before, with Hawke, and the others. They fought someone here. They do that a lot. 

The wind is cold on her face. She climbs up on some boxes and sits down on top, watching the ships. The ship in front of her throws off its ties. Workers yell and throw the ropes onto the ship and then just walk away. They don't even watch as the ship turns and sets itself in front of the wind.

"Kitten, what are you doing here?"

"Isabela." Despite the icy wind, looking at Isabela makes her feel warm in her chest. "I'm watching the ships. What are you doing here?"

Isabela climbs up and sits down next to Merrill. "The same as you. Watching ships. Watching people." She leans over and throws her arm over Merrill's shoulder. "Watching you."

"You're watching me? But I didn't see you?"

“You’re always on my mind, Kitten, and whenever I can, I'm watching you."

"That's nice." Merrill leans against Isabela's soft warmth next to her. "Makes me feel safer."

"I'm glad." Isabela looks like she wants to say more, but then she turns back to watching the ships. "I'm glad."

As the sun sinks into the Waking Sea, it's getting colder. Merrill shivers.

"Let's go the Hanged Man and warm up." Isabela takes Merrill's hand and helps her down. 

"Good idea. Do you think they have soup?" Isabela still holds her hand and Merrill squeezes it a bit.

"I'm sure they do." She looks at their interlinked hands, frowning for a moment, and then looks up and smiles at Merrill. "Let's get you some soup, Kitten."

"Yes." As they walk, Merrill keeps holding Isabela's hand and after a while, she swings their hands back and forth, like she saw little kids do. "Do you like this?" she asks.

Isabela is silent for a long time, her finger twitching in Merrill's hold. "Yes," she says at last. "Yes, I like it." 

She smiles at Merrill, and Merrill doesn't feel cold anymore.