#he shaped part of my psyche

[lyriumsings]

sad bc i can’t really pin down which oc was my first oc bc ive literally been making them for as long as i can remember ive had them for every interest ive ever watched, played or read. but if i had to choose i think the title of My First Ever Oc would have to go to my percy jackson one tbh who honestly should probably be completely revamped SHSJ

#i made her when i was literally single digits and therefore #she carries a lot of internalized racism tbh #she was straight and cis and white as hell #i think her name was elenora and she was absolutely from apollo cabin lmao #never drew her or anything #i think i wanna make a completely new one tho #with completely different everything #lyriumsings txt #percy jackson airs in like a month #and i need to reread *at least* the first cook #book* #speaking of books deadass i’m about to order the other percy jackson book that came out in sept #i’m so excited to read about him again #missed him so much #he’s hands down one of my favorite blorbos #he shaped part of my psyche #can’t believe there was a time when percy was older than me as a child #nico TOO THO! i remember being so shocked when he was forced to put himself #out* #like i absolutely at age 15 was expecting the confession to be about annabeth i was like why is this so hard it’s so obvious #and then boom it was not obvious SJSJSJJS

[tragedyandterror]

Where are we going?

Nowhere.

#i can have a little outlander self insert as a treat #hes a timid lad however he Will put bjr in a saw trap (affectionate) given the opportunity #this is essentially a redraw of The scene from iwtv tht has been a permanent part of my psyche since the 1st time i watched it as a teen #the way lestat runs the claw of his ring over his cheek+jaw+makes him flinch #my art #i didnt spend vry long on this one i kinda tried to let the colors form the shapes+place linework sorta loosely #but even tho i was looking at screencaps from tht scene to help tht sorta sideways back view pose was kicking my ass fr #it was so much harder to conceptualize than the over the shoulder pose i did in the other pic+i have no idea why #i waited to post this on my bday solely so i cld link tht girlfriend hostage vid but i cant find it fml #just imagine the vid of the dude introducing his gf on his bday tht ppl edited to look like a hostage situation thts me+bjr lmfao

[anantaru]

DAY 17 — VIRGINITY LOSS

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — neuvillette, heizou, wriothesley

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, first time, virgin! reader, taking your v card, soft & passionate, pussy drunk genshin men

𖧡 — NEUVILLETTE

neuvillette was always tender-hearted and caring with you— nonetheless, this specific night, he was burning up through his entire nervous system— only a minimal glance of your body was able to drag him into such brimming state with sweat spouting down his back while only inches away from feeling your skin on his hands— just the whisper of your soft words scurrying at the head of his sinful imaginations.

at the present moment in time, there were no thoughts other than doing this correctly, no focus other than the one centered on your angelic frame— a crucial need, as much as air and water, sewed up within the pain of anticipation simmering over his psyche.

you can feel how his fingers silently curve over the flesh of your thighs before he inches you closer to his bare body, "voice any discomfort to me—," he pauses before coughing out, barely breathing as his heart thuds hard against his chest from how tight your legs were wrapped around his hips, "—immediately."

you nod in compliance, and you rest your head against his broad shoulder before feeling neuvillette's complete weight shift, soon after caging you beneath him as he towers on top with a new perception prodding at your wet core, his cock gently resting between your silken pussy lips— it's unique to any other feeling you have ever experienced before and your thighs instantly clamp around his hips harder, your ragged breathing tottering over his neck and shoulder.

you try to relax yourself, letting your hips fall into the mattress before suddenly trembling at an increasing pressure on your cunt— you hear a whimper as neuvillette rests his forehead on yours, holding his gaze on your eyes, the force of the increasing press precise and cautious as your hole parts around the intrusion.

it seems to be everywhere, all at once trapping your body and you suddenly feel so hot inside, then cold, then hot again, the way it manifested so quickly in you like a spumming inferno that imprisoned your body before your mind floats in the air, above clouds— again, it's hot and cold, hot and cold, the pressure in your lower area penetrant and heavy, and you're becoming dizzy by just focusing on how his shaft was stretching you out as neuvillette fills your cunt to the hilt.

neuvillette notices an immediate reaction from his elevated senses, in the way a strong current of oversensitivity stung along his thick, sheathed shaft like a bee stinging their victims— nullifying his pace as his hips stutter before coming to a hold, reveling himself into the warm hug of a wet, gushing pussy enveloping him.

it's just too much right now, for the both of you— or how your body was beginning to smell just like him, your pussy shaping over his length and casted all around it— as if the both of you, had claimed each other entirely.

𖧡 — HEIZOU

"squeeze my hand if it's too much or uncomfortable,"

regardless of heizou's confident and soothing sentences towards you, before smirking down and giving you the feeling that he had it all figured out a long time ago— was in reality, a helpless attempt to hide his genuine panic deafening his inner spirit, and even though the detective believed he did a good job at concealing it from you, the way he'd awkwardly scrunch his brows together or stumble over his own words aired his self parading nervousness spotless for you to see.

despite that, it's a heavenly sight to have you splayed underneath him, bare and exposed— untouched, so hot that it has you clench around his waist as he first slips himself in, his cock immediately showering your warm walls with love. your heart was racing and so was his, yet it was impressive, his self control, slowly pushing in and out of your little hole and leaning his head down to plant a soft, tender kiss on your lips.

"you're so beautiful," heizou praises as you part your lips, "you're mine," and wait for heizou to slip his eager tongue deep into the warm cavern of your mouth, your mind lost in a swirl of senselessness by his gradually fastening thrusts and the mild pain accompanying them— yet such, didn't matter in this moment, because your thoughts travelled up the soul-deep river over emotions unlocking deep inside that bonded your bodies in a new sense of awareness.

𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY

watching you smile filled wriothesley with a love he never thought he was capable of feeling— and it's warm, as he believed love should always be perceived as, with your bodies moving unitedly, ugh, archons, he was obsessed with this intoxicating feeling.

“f-fuck, fuck, princess, fuck," he stumbles over his wet trembles, his mouth parted and forehead bedding a film of sweat as wriothesley persistently grinds into your sensitivity, his voice raspier than usual and for once he wasn't cracking occasional jokes, instead he hold your gaze forevermore, groaning out a shaky heave as you mewl out from the deep-rooted press on your core— it's a little uncomfortable you won't lie, and wriothesley being above average wasn't aiding you in that particular battle.

despite that you welcome him completely, no matter the circumstances you keep your legs pressed around his thighs when he tirelessly embeds himself so far inside your cunt that you're nothing but a babbling mess, hardly capable to breathe nor voice your pleasure due to the lingering compression on your slit being penetrated for the first time by a large, thick length, so perfectly shaped and harboring a soft pink on the bulbous tip.

he didn't believe he'd ever become so devoted towards another human being and utterly revel inside pleasing you for the first time, through your body and your soul and ugh— that you wanted him to be your first and no one else, how such reason alone was growing the addiction inside of him, his hips grinding inside your warm hole as his lower abs constrict at the pleasure.

wriothesley licks into your mouth in desperation, and each moment he pulls his hips back only to slip inside again, it’s so much better and it seemed like there wasn't a chance for it to subside, the sensation was growing between both your bodies rubbing over each other, his hips twitching with the sudden thud of vibrations due to your creamy walls clamping down on him.

your soft frame squeezes underneath his rough one, hot walls and wet taste, your slit gripping him just the right way and swallowing him till overcrowded with his heavy length, stimulating the veins sloped over his shaft like you were made to do this with him and only him.

truly, there was no comparison to this, nothing would make him get bored of doing this with you.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #heizou smut #heizou x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #kinktober #genshin x you #wriothesley x you #genshin impact x you #neuvillette x you #heizou x you

[ovaryacted]

RESTLESS

PAIRING: RE2!Leon x fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Leon wakes up in the middle of the night with you on his mind. He can't help but indulge in his desires when you're asleep next to him, but is surprised to find out that you won't let him get away with it so easily.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn without plot. Femdom. Mommy Kink. Edging/Orgasm Denial. Begging. Degradation/Praise. Slight Somnophilia. Hint of fluff at the end. Just Leon being needy.

WC: 3.2k

NOTES: This is the first installment of my kinktober. I hope you like it, I had fun writing this and just love sub Leon. Let me know if I left out anything in the warning. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

《 Kinktober Masterlist 2023 ⟡ Main Masterlist 》

Leon couldn’t sleep.

Sure, having trouble like this was normal to him. The graphic and consistent nightmares he used to have would still haunt him from time to time. There was no remedy for that, his memories forever a mark on his subconscious that would continue to be a part of his psyche for as long as he’ll remember.

Though the reason he was up at this time was far from remembering the countless horrors he saw on that terrible night in September. The only thing keeping him up nowadays was you, the only person who can both comfort and torment him alike.

All curled up on your side, you slept as he watched quietly behind you. A bad habit he developed when you two started dating early on, waking himself up to watch over your breathing to ease his anxieties. It was a way to affirm to himself that you were real, that you wouldn’t disappear the second his head hit the pillow and he woke up the next morning.

His tired blue eyes trailed over the way your chest rose and fell with every intake of breath you took, the cotton fabric of the shirt you stole from him accentuating the shape of your breasts when you exhaled. Soft sighs would pass your lips, no sign of a dream present in your mind while your hair splayed over the pillow underneath you. Despite the sheets covering your bottom half, he could already envision the thin shorts you usually wore to bed rising up your thighs.

Leon may have woken up in the middle of the night, the alarm clock on his bedside table reading 2:15 am in bright red analog. But he was wide awake now, his mind focused on one thing. You.

Carefully, he brought himself closer to you, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pressing his body against yours. He’s done this a hundred times over, never been a problem, but the second your hips shifted backward a quiet hum settled in his throat. He dug his nose into the back of your neck, taking in the scent of your body wash and shampoo. A comforting mixture of jasmine with a hint of white musk filled his senses, a smell that he reserved just for you, one that he’d always recognize as home.

Leon noticed you didn’t stir in your sleep, still oblivious to the developing hardness against your rear. He didn’t mean to, or maybe he did, but he couldn’t help it even if he tried. You fidgeted the slightest bit, moving closer to the warmth you felt behind you and he knew he was in trouble, the fabric of his briefs starting to feel tighter.

One of his hands moved underneath the shirt you wore, going up your lower stomach and coming towards your chest. He kneaded your breasts gently, an action he’d do at random as a stress reliever when you two would cuddle.

His thumb brushed against your nipple, the nub hardening underneath his fingertips. He felt your breathing hitch before he heard it, a loud exhale followed soon after but you remained asleep. Leon continued his groping, growing harder against your back as he moved his body to gyrate against you.

Your shorts had risen completely now, one of your legs bending at the knee and lifting higher against the mattress. His other hand twitched as it slipped between your legs, lightly cupping you against the material of your underwear. He could feel your warmth slipping through the cotton, the gusset growing moist with every pass of his fingers. The hushed grunt that passed his lips couldn’t be contained, starting to gently kiss your neck while his hands roamed your body.

His cock started to swell in his briefs, pressing himself closer so he could feel your heat seeping through the material of your panties that now clung to you. Even in your sleep, your body knew Leon was the one touching you, the familiarity becoming muscle memory as he felt you get wetter under him.

“Fuck…”, he cursed under his breath, moving your underwear to the side to feel you bare. Slick developed on his fingertips as he brushed over your pulsing clit, warm just the way he liked. He could feel your heartbeat underneath the palm of his hand from where he squeezed your breast, noticing how you grew more breathless with every pass of his hands.

He was growing lost in the feel of you, of how your pliant body continued to show him how badly you wanted him, needed him to make you feel better. Fingers growing wet with your arousal, he swears he could hear a moan slipping from your lips as your hips arched towards him.

Deft fingers moved to your entrance, feeling it clench around the idea of being filled by something. Tweaking your nipple again with intention, he ground his hips harder against your lower spine, shuddering as he did. It should be sick what he was doing, trying to get a feel of you while slept right next to him, but he didn’t seem to care. Growing flushed from the fondling, he lost track of time with his face dug in the crease of where your neck and shoulder met. He was stuck in a world of his own, getting ready to insert his fingers into your hole until he heard you speak.

“What are you doing Leon?”, your voice still laced with sleep brought him back to reality, causing him to freeze with his fingers still against you.

“Shit, I-I…”, he didn’t have an explanation for his actions, refusing to tell you how he couldn’t sleep because he just needed to feel you.

“You thought you could touch me while I slept and get away with it?”, the rasp in your voice only made his dick pulse, how you shamed him for his desires despite your body saying otherwise.

“I’m sorry. Wanted to feel you, couldn’t sleep”, he mumbled against you, hiding his face and embarrassed of his actions, but not guilty enough to pull his hands away from your body.

“What did I tell you about waking me up like this?”, you started to move now, taking his hands out of your underwear much to Leon’s dismay.

You flipped over to look at him, seeing just how flustered your lover was beside you. Even through the darkness of your bedroom, you could see the way his face blushed as your eyes met. Taking a second to trail your gaze over him, your sight was directed to the obvious bulge in Leon’s navy briefs, his shirt doing nothing to cover it from you.

“Told me not to touch you in your sleep…”

“And you didn’t listen to me, again”, you came closer to him to lay a hand on his chest, appeasing Leon’s desires even more.

“I’m sorry…just love you so much I can’t help it sometimes”, that comment made you smile, a statement you knew was the truth.

Ever since the beginning of your relationship, Leon was like a puppy, always attached and wanting to be near you. It was a comfort thing, wanting to feel you whenever he could with physical touch and quality time being his biggest love languages. He was clingy in an endearing way, and that trait carried on in the bedroom, one that you loved to exploit.

“I know baby. But now look at what you did, got all hard ‘cause I was sleeping next to you. Is this what you want?”, you leaned your body more against him, your hand caressed his chest and moved up to clutch at the hair at the base of his neck.

“Fucking please…need it so bad”, it was his turn for his breathing to hitch, looking at you with a pout that only made you want to kiss him.

“Yeah? You need mommy to make you feel all better?”, the single phrase made Leon moan, feeling you come towards his neck to kiss his throat.

“Please, I want you mommy”, a confession you’d love to hear on repeat if you could.

You smirked, laying chest to chest and tilting your head up to kiss him gently. He whimpered against you, holding your face by the jaw. Lips meshed together, your tongue quickly found his, exploring his mouth while he gladly let you. With a sneaky hand, you moved to massage the bulge hidden underneath the navy material of his underwear. A whisper for more filtered through your ears as he shuddered under you, making his cravings more intense.

“My needy baby, always so desperate for me”, you said as you pulled away from him, watching Leon nod and bite his lip.

Taking his cock out of his briefs and pulling them down until he could kick them off, you started to pump him with a quick jerk of your wrist. Thumb against his slit, the slickness of his pre-cum covered your digit, your mouth watering at the prospect of running your tongue along his body. He tried hard not to be so loud with his sounds, but the more you jerked him off, the more depraved he became.

“Woke yourself up thinking about my pussy you just had to wake me up too right?”, you were toying with him, feeling his cock throb in your hand the more you spoke.

“Yeah, just missed you, missed mommy so much”

“Always waking me up because you’re horny. Can’t keep doing this to me babe, I need my sleep”, you started to pump him faster, Leon’s fingers going towards your wrist and squeezing, signaling he was getting close. “But you’re not getting off that easily, not this time”

You stopped and pulled your hand away completely, Leon’s eyes shooting open and a pitiful whine left his mouth as you stopped stroking him. Hard cock bobbing against his lower stomach, his hips jerked in search of your touch yet you didn’t provide it.

“I’m sorry mommy, I’m sorry just fuck…please don’t stop. I’ll be good, promise”

“You said that last time and didn’t listen to me. You’re breaking your promises to me baby, that’s not what I taught you”

He pouted again, already so eager for more that he had to close his eyes and try to control his breathing. His hands pawed at your hips, grasping your body as you didn’t give him what he so badly desired. 

“I won’t do it again. Won’t touch you when you sleep. Please…I can’t…”

You sometimes felt pity for your boyfriend, how he’s reached the point of not being able to get off without you anymore. He could be insatiable in that regard, not that you complained, but seeing him this pathetic always managed to ruin your underwear more times than you could count. You knew, regardless of how many times he said he wouldn’t do it again, you’d be back in this position soon enough.

Your hand went back to stroke him, a sigh of relief passing him as his hips moved towards your fist. You kissed up his neck and jaw, nipping towards his earlobe and sucking it between your lips. Leon was panting now, fucking up into your hand and feeling you tighten your fingers around him in the way he liked. His thighs twitched underneath you, another strained moan being swallowed as you kissed him once more.

Leon’s groaning got higher in pitch, resorting to pleased hums the closer he got to falling over the edge. He was so close, so close to getting that relief he longed for all night. But the second the rope of tension was about to snap in his lower gut, your touch disappeared from him again, and he could feel himself ready to cry from frustration.

“No…no please…please stop teasing me. I need you”, he was aching now, and you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

“You gonna be good for mommy if I give you what you want?”, you took off your shorts and panties as you spoke, multitasking while Leon was stuck in a daze of his own.

“Yeah, yes I’ll be good. I’ll be good for you mommy just please, I can’t take it anymore”

At this rate, Leon would drive himself crazy with just the thought of being able to feel your cunt wrapped around him. With a grin of pure delight, you straddled his lap, bare pussy against his stiff length. That sensation alone sent trembles down Leon’s spine, grinding against your wetness. The fact that you were wet from all of this only made him want you more, pure desire written in his dilated eyes.

“Be good and let me fuck you to sleep baby”, you murmured, shifting your hips more to feel the tip of Leon’s cock rub against your clit, gasping at the contact.

You positioned yourself higher above him while holding him at the base, shifting down to slip him inside you. You hissed at the slight stretch as he filled you, having him with no prep like this would be uncomfortable if you weren’t completely soaked.

The sound that left his mouth was guttural, deep from within his chest. In any other setting, he would be completely embarrassed if someone else knew what he sounded like in bed. But god you fucking loved it, loved when he was so far gone his pleasure was unrestrained.

“Just fuck me, need you to fuck me”, he begged, fingers digging into your thighs to get you to move. His eyes were already half-lidded, breathing heavily through his nose when you clenched around him.

You lifted yourself until just the tip was inside you and slammed back down. Your hands gripped his chest, beginning to bounce yourself with enthusiasm. Leon’s hands were everywhere, growing overwhelmed with all the pleasure he felt. They kneaded at your thighs with every shift of your hips, sneaking further up your body to pinch your nipples under his shirt. Riding him like this when you were half asleep and wearing his clothes made his brain turn to complete mush.

“So good, feel so good”, his words were slurring together, thrusting back up to meet your movements.

You leaned down towards him again and arched your back as you rocked against him with more force. The change in position allowed his tip to nudge into your g-spot every time you came back down with an audible slap of skin. Sweet mewls spilled out of you, your rhythm picking up enough to make the bed creak underneath you both. Leon’s hands went towards your ass and squeezed, throat bobbing as he struggled to swallow with drool slipping past his plush lips.

“Always so good for letting me fuck you like this, such a good boy for me”, you praised him, a wanton cry filled the room followed by squelching coming from between your legs.

He was growing delirious, head lolling to the side as he lost his focus. Eyes glossed over in euphoria, you could tell he was getting close again. The insistent throbbing inside you grew more prominent the second you swiveled your hips with every bounce. Leon whimpered, praying to the higher powers of the universe you’ll finally stop edging him and let him cum the way he needed.

“I’m close, please let me cum. Fucking please…”, he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, his orgasm at the forefront of his mind.

“You want to cum inside me? Fill mommy’s pussy up?”, he nodded dumbly at you, growing pussywhipped at your words and thrusting up into you harder to match your pace.

“Yesss. Wanna make you feel good, want to fill you up. Please, please can I?”

You weren’t too far off from your release, the way Leon spoke and cried out for you was enough for your own orgasm to crest. His thumb came to play with your clit as you moved, still having enough sense to make you cum with him. You went to pull at the hair on his scalp, forcing him to meet your eyes and order him one more time.

“Be a good boy and cum for me”

“Thank you, thank you mommy, fuck-”, he babbled as his thrusting grew more frantic.

You tightened around him, the pulsing of your walls sending him headfirst into his release. A filthy groan slipped from him, fingers holding you tightly and bottoming out inside you. Your body was filled with warmth as he painted your walls white, whining when you kept riding him until your orgasm took over your body. Your thighs shook above him, milking him dry with your face tucked in his neck and biting at his skin so you didn’t moan too loudly.

You could feel the tremors running through Leon underneath you, his breathing shaky as blonde strands of his hair stuck to his forehead. The both of you were covered in a light layer of sweat, the scent of sex filling your bedroom and surrounding you both. Lifting yourself completely off of him, you gasped at the feel of being left empty, the sensation of his warm cum dripping out of you and down your thigh.

Tired arms wrapped around your body, light kisses placed on your skin as Leon nuzzled further against you. You let him curl into you then, not saying anything when he pulled you in closer to lay down on the bed with him. Your fingers ran through his hair, feeling him sigh and rub caressing circles on your lower back.

“Can’t keep waking me up like that Leon, our sleeping habits are bad enough”, your gentle voice cut through the stillness of the room, your lover’s attention back on you.

“I know, sorry”, he gave you an apologetic kiss on your shoulder, and you accepted it like you always did. You didn’t actually care about being woken up like this, if anything a part of you liked it more than you could admit.  

“You feeling sleepy yet?”, you asked him, already knowing he’ll be asleep in the next few minutes if you continued to soothe him like this.

“Mhm, thank you. I love you”, was all he had to say really, and you gave him another smile, whispering those three words back to him.

You kissed over his face tenderly, starting at his forehead, his nose, his cheek, and then his lips. He happily reciprocated, a small smile on his face despite his eyes being closed. Throwing the sheets over the both of you again, you moved to have Leon’s head lay on your chest, his ear on the left side to listen to your heartbeat.

He was quickly lulled to sleep by the beating rhythm under him, soft snores coming from slightly opened lips. You kissed the top of his head, answering the call of sleep along with him, and mentally preparing to snooze your alarm that will wake the both of you up in a few hours.

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

taglist: @roseglazedlens @kennedyswhore @httpsuguru @httpsvix @daydreamrot @kmt123whatsthetea @cinnarette

#kinktober 2023 #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fic #re2 leon x reader #sub! leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #ovaryacted fics #ovaryacted kinktober #⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆

[huntersrequiem-if]

Hunter's Requiem

demo [tba] | forum [tba]

dark fantasy, horror (?), romance

You are a minor deity of the Hunt, known by your followers as The Hunter, used by the other Higher Beings as The Hound. The All-Seeing Sun had given you countless tasks over your existence.

Yet one day, while on a mission sent out by him, you were summoned and judged for treason. The punishment left you mangled; your magic ripped off.

Cast away, you went into a deep sleep to recover.

After centuries you awoke to find your name spoken in whispers in the darkest nights. The Traitor. The world has changed, yet you still have true believers who await your awakening.

Will you be successful in your revenge? Will you be able to topple the gods or will you try to live in peace?

Features:

Play as male, female, nonbinary.

Your choices will affect the fate of your followers.

Befriend, romance or even antagonize a wide cast of characters.

Have a loyal shadowy companion by your side.

Astaroth [M]

"And to think I hated you. Now I can’t imagine living a single day without you.”

Your “other half”, attached to your psyche. He is content to stay in the backseat and offer comments. Tall and lean with gray skin. His face is sharp and angular, eyes with black sclera and white iris. Long black straight hair parted only by his antlers. His hands are black, tipped with long claws. The gradient loses color the closer it gets to his elbow. When he grins at you, you see beast-like teeth glinting in the light.

The Beloved Moon [F]

"That was the worst mistake I ever made. Please, I will do anything you want for you to forgive me.”

Moon has a curious interest in you. Since the moment she saw you, she had sought any chance to talk with you.

A short woman with deep blue skin and freckles that shine like stars. Her skin is shifting between deep blue and purple. She has a round face with full lips and a button nose. Round eyes with black sclera and bright blue iris stare at you with curiosity. Her long curly hair is white with pale blue streaks. Massive white feathered wings cover her back, sometimes used to cover her body like a cloak. Her smile might be gentle but the sharp fangs showed less so.

The Eternal Night [NB]

“I have turned a blind eye to the world far too long. I will no longer allow anything to happen to you.”

The Eternal Night is a distant person. Even more towards the other gods, yet for you they show a kinder side. They are tall and slender. Their sharp face is softened by full lips and expressive eyes. They have dark grey skin paired with stark white hair, that reaches their chin. The wavy strands frame their face nicely. Their eyes-- black sclera with crimson iris—are often covered by their mask. Massive black wings sprout from their back, and then the light catches the feathers right they look more blue than dark.

Santana [F/M]

"Why is it that every time I look at you I feel that I have known you for lifetimes? Why does my soul yearn for you?"

A priest you met in your past, a rather interesting person with a stubborn brand of kindness.

Tawny skin sprinkled with freckles. Golden hair is kept in a braid, far away from their face, yet a few strands escape and frame their heart-shaped face. Expressive eyes look at you, their blue gaze shining brightly.

They stand at an average height, donning the white and golden robes of the priests of Sun. Over that, they wear a chainmail.

You thought you lost them to the sands of time.

??? [F/M]

“Do you have any idea how long I prayed to see you, to hear your voice?”

Every day, they're slipping farther, their grip on the edge of the chasm growing fragile. Can you drag them back or will you shove them off?

#interactive fiction #if: intro #if game #if wip #interactive novel #interactive game #hunter's requiem if

[wxshing-aep]

Hiii, I saw ur request post!! could you maybe

write some dating Ethan morales hcs??💖

Dating Ethan Morales Would Include

pairing: ethan morales x reader (all characters are 18+) AN: this will be dating college!ethan cause i thought it'd be more interesting, also didn't proofread this warnings: swearing, gets nsfw in the second half so 18+ (minors dni)

-

you met ethan when you were assigned to tutor him cause he was failing calc. you originally found him to be pretty obnoxious and got tired of his overly nonchalant attitude which culminated in you yelling at him about how he needs to start trying or he's gonna get kicked out. he made no move to respond to your angry rant and just stared back at you with wide eyes and blown out pupils. "what?" you question. "sorry, you're kinda really fucking hot when you're mad"

one of your study sessions ended with him pulling you onto his lap while you made out and his hands roamed your body

he got a little nervous asking you out on a real date even though you've already made out multiple times. he was a bit worried that you'd reject him. he wasn't sure if you'd want a serious relationship with him since he's got a bit of a womanizer reputation. (spoiler alert: you said yes)

his grades got a lot better once he actually started trying because he loved seeing how excited you'd get for him when he showed you a good grade that he got on a test

ethan's love language is definitely physical touch. he needs his hands on you at all times, normally around your waist or resting on your thigh. he's constantly drawing little shapes on whatever part of your bare skin he has access to. most of the time he doesn't even realize he's doing it

you go on a lot of late night drives that may or may not end with the two of you in the backseat of ethan's car

he loves when you wear his clothes but still consistently accuses you of robbing him. "wearing my jacket again, you little thief" "oh, did you want it ba-" "no"

he is your own personal hype-man, there is no shortage of compliments coming from him

"see you later, gorgeous", "damn, my girl looks sexy", "my girlfriend is the most beautiful person on the planet"

he lets you braid his hair when you're bored

he'll match his nail color to yours but will never admit that he did it on purpose and always insist that it was a coincidence

he gets very jealous, but will deny it if you call him out. you were once at a party very innocently talking to a male friend from your psych seminar about how hard your recent test was before ethan walked over to your conversation.

"oh hey, jack, this is my boyfriend ethan" you introduce him, "ethan, this is-" "yea, don't care" ethan interrupts before pulling you by the waist into a searing kiss until jack had left. "there's no reason to be jealous you know? he's just a friend" "i'm not jealous, but that loser was definitely eye-fucking you" "he was not eye-" "let's go make out"

ethan is very distracting when you're trying to study or do any homework

"baaaaaabe, i'm bored", he whines. "m'sorry but I really have to do this research paper" you respond. "or", he starts, closing the book in your hands and tossing it to the side of your bed, "you can take a much needed break and do me instead"

his friends call him whipped bc of how obsessed with you he is and he doesn't give a fuck cause he is in fact obsessed with you

he lets you color in his tattoos

he definitely tries to teach you how to skateboard and holds both your hands if you're too scared to let go of him

he got you a necklace with his initial on it and has a ring with your initial on it

nsfw 18+

that man definitely knows what he's doing in the bedroom cause, let's face it, he was a bit of a whore in the past

you guys have a lot of sex, like a lot of sex to the point where you might have gotten a few noise complaint's from the people that live next to your dorm room

he's a capital M Munch. ethan loves eating pussy, like he definitely does it for his own enjoyment. he could spend hours in between your thighs and any moans or whimpers coming from you just egg him on even more

ethan was so turned on when you agreed to sit on his face

"your face is pretty", you complimented him. "yea? you should sit on it" oh. "like sit on it sit on it?" "sit. on. it." "but what if I like suffocate you or something" "you won't, and if you did i'd die happy" so you did and holy shit does that boy know how to use his mouth. he wouldn't stop till you came on his face multiple times and your legs are shaking around his head

he keeps his hair long cause he likes when you tug on it while he's eating you out. it turns him on so much that he has to actively try not to cum in his pants while he's going down on you

ethan is very vocal, he's not afraid to let you know that he's enjoying it. he whimpers for sure. while he's definitely a giver he loves when you have your mouth on him. his mind goes fuzzy when you're blowing him, moaning your name, shaking under you

he's a bit of a sub and loves when you boss him around. ethan absolutely loses his mind when you choke him while you're riding him. he just loves seeing you on top of him, telling him what to do, using him for your own pleasure. he'll beg, especially if you're edging him

"baby fuck please i need it, i'll be your good boy i promise"

jealous!ethan is definitely more dominant though. "right there baby? look how wet you are for me. he can't fuck you like i can hmm? want you to cum on my dick like a good girl"

this man cannot hide when he's horny. he immediately gets super handsy and will be whisking you off to the nearest bathroom

he loves your boobs. holding them, sucking on your nipples, cumming on them if you're cool with that. your chest is rarely not covered in hickies.

you're obsessed with ethan's hands and he knows it. he knows how to use them and has no problem sneaking them into you under the table on a date night, only to remove his hands from you right before you finish and make a point of sucking the fingers that had just been inside you clean while holding eye contact with you and letting a smug look take over his face

he has a praise kink and definitely responds with "yes ma'am" when you boss him around. he's gotten turned on when you guys are arguing before, there's just something about you yelling at him that goes straight to his dick

if you wear a sundress, oh it's over for him. he'll have you bent over the nearest surface in seconds and the dress stays on.

#ethan morales #ethan morales x reader #michael cimino #michael cimino x reader #never have i ever #never have i ever s4 #nhie #nhie s4 #ethan morales smut

[wickedusername]

Apple Red

Curse!Reader x Mahito || 18+ MDNI

Synopsis:

In which our favorite shape shifting psychopath discovers the wonders of sex with someone equally fucked up in the head, all under a philosophical motif of the Knowledge Argument/Mary's Room, a thought experiment posing that certain mental states can't be known unless you experience them yourself.

A/n: Bringing this over from AO3! It was brought about in my annoyance at every Mahito fic being non-con and others yet thinking the man is illiterate. Listen, he may have been born yesterday but he's read more philosophy than you and me. This has an overarching Mary's room motif, skim it over, your enjoyment will be increased threefold. Just like your cl- Wikipedia article if you can't watch.

Tw: dead dove: do not eat, body horror, sadomaso, asphyxiation/choking, blood kink, double penetration, p in v, anal, murder kink, necrophilia mention, shapeshifting. However!! praise kink, body worship, dirty talk, consensual sex, size kink, no actual murder takes place.

Word count: 6,1k words

Epigraph:

He lowered his abs over your back again and got close to your ear. Licks, pecks and bites peppered your back, popping up in places you know mouths shouldn't be. “The pleasure of your wet, gorgeous pussy, deep and clenching for me… No dead or unwilling thing has it. You'll come for me again, won't you, dearie?

"Absolutely feral” is not enough to describe what was going on between you and Mahito. He groped every part of you, your ass, your thighs, your breasts, the fat on your hips. Arms scratched and pinched at the muscle and fat on every part of your torso with his fingers. All while his tongue licked all over your mouth and lips, swirled around yours, elongated down to your throat. His jaw took in more and more like he would gobble you up. You had your hands way up under his poncho, scratching his back to raw flesh.

This had started as a conversation. You were barely a sketch of a curse, not rivaling the strength of the other ones you knew, but shapely enough to pass as human to those who could see you. You tried your best to mind your own business and stay in hiding, fully aware the persecution of sorcerers could end you in one fell swoop. The unfinished subway station you liked to call home was where you spent most of your time. Nestled between the decaying scaffolding, the staff room was where you sat with him, the only furnished room among the many half-finished nooks of the construction site. The bare surfaces didn't bother you, and the room had remained thankfully untouched in the two or so years since construction was halted and abandoned.

You, however, neglected none of the room. Whenever you had the chance to be around humanoid curses, you made a point to invite them over. You loved to banter and befriend, but just as much as you loved to occasionally hit the jackpot for one that you could sleep with. You didn't care to investigate your origins, but you weren’t born of anything family-friendly, you knew that much.

You'd known Mahito for a while. He was introduced to you by Kenjaku, an annoying body-hijacker who'd seeked to recruit you for his revolutionary cause. You wanted none of it, especially keen on self-preservation, but the two of you had hit it off. Two curses of the psyche had plenty to commiserate about, so you often hung around each other. And you'd just now managed to have him in your nest. Of course it wasn't every time you dragged someone to your staff room that you wanted to fuck them, and you certainly wouldn't mind if it led nowhere. But he was the most human of all curses – maybe of all there were – so of course you wanted to ask him about sex. To your surprise, his opinions were less than satisfactory.

“It's not as good as murder, to be honest.” He tapped the arm of the couch he was slouched on, staring you down with conflicting feelings. It was definitely not what he was here to talk about, but it did leave him curious.

“Are you serious? You've been doing it on things that don't move, haven't you?” It was the explanation you could conoct for why he would think that.

“I can make them move, you know? I've put the parts together, it's just not all that.” He retorted.

“It's about more than the parts. It's the entirety of the person you're with.”

“I've tried full, intact humans. The first one I, uh… killed them by accident. Another one I killed beforehand and they start going cold and don't feel as nice. I kinda gave up after that, I really don't see how it's so hyped.”

“Yeah, that's not the fun way to do it. You're trying to get on the level of fragile, puny humans.” You looked to the side in pure contempt.

The disgust for human weakness nearly seeped out of you. You'd tried humans, and as good as sex was with anyone, you also boasted similar results. You had no need to kill or force, like he likely did. They flocked to you. It was easy, it was your nature. But it always ended in a body to discard. You did wonder, partly, if it was in the inherent fact of being a curse that your drive to fulfill your desire ended in human death. But killing wasn't the drive you yearned for, and you were more than happy to have something that would live to fuck another day. It was the whole reason you enjoyed other curses much more, anyway.

“Alright, I'll bite.” Mahito smiled. “What's the fun way?”

Your lips curled into a smile worth a hundred bucks. Now here you were, gripping his hair, licking his teeth and waiting eagerly for what came next.

Mahito lifted you up into his lap with what seemed like two arms wrapping around your thighs like thick belts. Two others squished and pulled on your asscheeks, torturing them, digits slipping forward to tease your clothed entrance from below. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, even though you didn't need to make much strength to be carried around. Against your belly, his hard-on pushed a tent on his leather pants. He pulled away from you with a laugh.

“This really isn't bad!”

“We haven't even started.” you leaned into his ear, scraping your lips against it before biting hard at his earlobe. “The fun part is that you can fuck me up”.

His eyes gleamed with fun and desire.

“How?” He pinned you against one of the walls. His smile was unnaturally wide, tugging at the muscles of his cheeks, pushing them up against his lower eyelids that squeezed against his fiery wide glare.

“However you want.” Your own stare burned with passion, knowing the idea of destroying you would fuel his fire to the maximum.

His dick twitched in his pants, achingly hard. A fifth arm stretched out of his stitched, toned right shoulder. His hand caressed the side of your face, combing your hair slowly back, tucking it behind your ear, before gripping your face roughly and pushing your head against the wall. He deformed it, veins and muscles bulging and pulsing in waves through your face and down your neck, while you healed up, undoing his damage and rolling your eyes back into your head. You savored his torture. His mismatched eyes burned with glee and he laughed, near maniacally, at your enjoyment.

“You-! You are too much fun!” He licked his lips and continued to cackle, like he had a front seat in the world's best joyride.

“More from the inside.” You teased. You lowered your hand to his pants and wrapped your fingers around the outline of his dick. He hissed as you stroked him, making you bite your lip at the sound.

The hand that was deforming your face stopped its transfiguring and moved to the top of your head, where it pulled your hair. He pressed your body further against the wall, giving you enough stability to bring both your hands to his pants, unzip them and allow his cock to spring free from the leather. You wrapped your hand around it and stroked him. Starting at the base, where it sprouted through the patch of brown fur that framed it, all the way to its pink round head. Your other hand caressed his abdomen, circling and clawing at the stitches in his cum gutters.

Mahito moaned and bucked his hips into your touch, squeezing your ass and thighs harder, pulling on your hair tighter. His eyes fluttered and his mouth hung open, before his sight landed on your chest, rising and falling under your tight fit shirt.

You encouraged him with a hum and the hand that was pulling your hair moved downwards, where its forearm split into halves. They promptly scrunched the cloth at the neck seam, one on each side, and ripped it apart, turning it to a cluster of circular tatters hanging from your waist and arms. His lips let out a long loud breath with the aftersound of a suppressed moan, almost like he was trying not to drool at the sight. He buried his face in your chest with nothing but nirvana in his mind.

You held the back of his head and nuzzled his hair as you kept stroking him, his pleasure-filled expression hidden between your breasts. Your breaths were heavy, and he would not stop letting out quiet grunts at your handjob. His hands roughly massaged your ass and the flesh belts around your thighs cut circulation to your feet, making them tingle. The arm that had split in two reunified, being joined by a sixth on the left side, and they both fondled your breasts. Mahito squeezed his face between the mounds and placed unrestrained bites and licks on them. When he felt himself getting close, he placed his lips against your ribs and muttered into them.

“You were right. I need the rest of it. I need to get in you.”

Mahito gripped your shoulders and slammed you against the wall once again, making you fumble the stroking rhythm you had. With the other pair of arms he gripped your asscheeks like rough dough and pulled you against him, rubbing his dick over your crotch. His nails dug in to the point of piercing cloth.

He brought his arms down from your breasts to fumble with the string of your pants. Unable to pull them or rip them away because of your legs around him, he turned around and let go of your ass, making you fall head-first into the floor. An unpleasant cracking was heard and blood splattered in a beautiful halo around your head, and you just healed the concussion shut. The only thing off the floor were your legs, still held at the sides of his hips. He stepped back and pulled your pants off with two hands at the rim and the two belts at the thighs, now sliding down to your knees and shins. When the pants were off, he tossed them to the side and recoiled the belts back into his body.

With now four arms, he crawled over you and pressed your legs apart. Mahito ripped the underwear you had like it was made of paper, throwing the pieces to the side. He held his dick in one hand, gently rubbing the head against your labia.

“God, I'm going to ruin you.” He grinned with a sing-sing tune of pure glee.

You grabbed him by the poncho and pulled him down to your level so you could talk.

“Think I'm not already rotten?” You whispered into his ear and licked your bottom lip, awaiting his response.

Instead of a witty remark, he just buried himself into you until bottoming out. He bit his lip and swallowed a big gulp, and you salivated with lascivious anticipation watching the stitches on his neck rise and fall from the movement.

“Fuck… This is good.” He muttered almost resentfully.

He threw his head back and enjoyed the feeling of your warm cunt. It was slicker than whatever he had before. Deeper. Warmer. Everything about the real thing, with the wetness and interaction of a willing participant, didn't compare to what he had done to transfigured humans, or to corpses, or to himself. Snapping back to reality, he started moving, and without much buildup he went right to pumping into you repeatedly. He was not at all mindful of still having his clothes on, of being on the cold floor, or even recalled being able to transfigure you while he was at it. All he could enjoy was the feeling.

You gripped the cloth falling over his back and started bunching it over his stitched shoulders, tucking his hair out of the way. When you got to the rim, you pulled the poncho over his head and he carelessly shoved it aside, shaking it off of the single arm that was stuck in its segmented sleeve. His hair fell forward with the movement and it now hung over you, grazing and tickling your chest. The view of his abs over you as he pounded was significantly better than a damn windowpane poncho.

Your own hands were busy as you tugged forcefully on a strand of his hair and decided to touch yourself, bringing about the familiar buildup of heat and electricity in the pit of your stomach. He noticed your hand and soon had it joined by an extra mouth, sprouting comically forward from his lower abdomen, right through his treasure trail. The mouth licked right with and over your fingers, and soon you were holding your pussy open for him, pressing down on your labia with your fingers. Their occasional twitching, your body's way to dispel some of the tension it was building.

“Do you want to feel what it's like when something comes around you? When they squeeze with you inside?” You teased, coaxing dirty talk out of him.

“I do… Come and scream my name. Fuck, I want to watch your face while you do it.”

“Then fuck me harder…” You mewled. His thrusts got stronger and he brought one of the arms sustaining his torso to grip your shoulder and push you harder against him with every pound. Your back chafed against the concrete, ripping at the skin of your scapulas. The mouth on your clit latched on and flicked its tongue around, catching the bud repeatedly.

Mahito lifted the last arm that sustained his torso from the floor, putting his weight on your thighs with the other pair. It forced them higher. It made your muscles sting. You unfolded your knees and placed your calves on his shoulders, and the position was riveting. He placed that hand on your mouth, where he pulled your lips, pinched your tongue, enjoyed the drool. Mahito straightened his back, lifting his torso away from your face. He ended up gripping your lower jaw like a handle, his knuckles under your tongue and thumb pressing into the soft spot under your chin. His nails cut the bottom of your mouth and he probably dislocated your jaw a couple of times with his thrusting, but fuck if you cared.

Your eyes rolled over as the heat built up higher and your toes curled around nothing. You thrashed your feet about in restlessness and the hands holding your thighs apart just tightened their grip, wavering with the movement of the muscles underneath them. You called out to him as promised and came around him. The pressure washed away in waves, rolling over you one by one in electric spasms. The tongue in the abdominal mouth flattened against your clit and you let it lick a trail slowly upwards. He could barely process his thoughts when the first spasm jolted your lower region.

“Ma- a- Ah!!” you fumbled your attempt to utter his name a second time.

“Ah...! Shit!” His eyes shot open and his mouth hung agape as you clenched around his dick.

He lost the regularity in his thrusting and let his sight glaze over, twitching at the feeling of your slick. The pulse brought him over the edge, and before your orgasm had fully waived he was moaning and pumping sloppily into you, spurting warm cum through your insides. His moans were even louder than yours, and his arms shook from the pleasure. Your half-lidded eyes framed by sweat met his and he had to shut them and turn his head away so he wouldn't be distracted. He moaned with the shivers that ran down his legs, his abdomen spasming and clenching. The abdominal mouth hung and drooled against your crotch, devoid of mind.

“Shit… you got so tight.” Mahito sighed, catching his breath, still coming down from his high.

“Isn't it so nice? You'll have to make me come again if you want more of that.” you giggled, partly trying to convince him to please you harder.

“Oh, I'll do so much more than make you come.” The man shook his head softly and looked down on you with a grin.

He didn't have such an issue as a refractory period. As soon as his dick went soft, he just made himself a new one and pushed that within you instead.

“Ah… More…” you cooed after his first few thrusts and it gave him a brand new idea.

Without ever pulling out, he made his cock a full double its volume. It shifted with delicious waves to the length of his foot and the thickness of a wrist. You bit your lips feeling its growth inside you, expanding your walls tighter. He pulled it out just to tease and even pushing it back took a little effort. The member stretched you open, the friction helped by all the wet and seed already inside. You felt a tinge of pride in your own pussy for taking it. He went right back to fucking. The pounding of this new dick made you feel so delightfully full, and the mild pain of his tip hitting your cervix was nothing but seasoning to your masochism. He wouldn't slide all the way in, instead he just pushed against the spongy back of your pussy until he felt too much resistance and slid back out, again and again.

The hand he once had in your mouth slithered down to your neck, where it was soon joined by the one that held your shoulder. He now had two hands on your thighs and two on your neck. He put his full weight on your trachea, and he seemed to love the feeling of wrapping his fingers around your small chunk of spine and muscle and grip it tight, with full suffocating intent. You couldn't breathe, but you didn't need to. His rhythmic slams against your cunt translated to his fingers digging harder and harder into your flesh, unrelenting as tugs on a zip tie. Pump after pump after pump, the pressure on your neck and on your cervix mixed in your head. They fought for your attention in turns with whichever felt strongest at any given second.

“Ah… I want to kill you so bad. I wanna blow you up into pieces.” Both arms pressed into your neck hard enough to scrunch it thin, folding the skin into rolls. He admired it as its color transitioned in a spotty gradient from pale to pink to red, to near grape under his fingers.

You couldn't talk, but you ran your finger under his chin and up his cheek, up to the stitches near his ear. You gripped the hair at the back of his head with both hands and held the blue-gray strands tight while he rolled repeatedly into you. He hissed in contentment at the feeling of you around him, at the sight of him around you, at the collapsing of your trachea under his hands. It made him way too aroused.

His gaze dropped slowly to your abdomen again and, with an intrusive thought, he decided to push into you until the base of his shaft. The pain stole your attention fully to your nether region. He pushed past any point of comfort into your cervix and gawked at the sight of your abdomen bulging ever so slightly to accommodate him. The sight made his dick twitch with the will to release. The feeling of pushing into your cervix past its intended size put wonderful pressure against his head. He pumped again and immediately had to stop himself because his stomach was coiling in pleasure against his will.

“Shit… I don't wanna come again already.” He let go of your neck and pulled out of you with haste, leaving with a loud sigh.

The curse panted loudly and stood up with laborious effort. He used this break to get his pants fully off. Both gasped for air, though you had much more of a reason. He wormed his legs out one after the other like boneless noodles and threw the pants in roughly the same direction where his poncho sat on the floor.

“You've made yourself such a gorgeous body.” you sat up and reached forward to grip the stitches in his thighs with admiration. You ran your digits over the raised clamps along the scar lines and resisted the urge to lean forward to kiss them. Mahito had kept human legs, even if the hairy patch around his base was still more like fur than pubes. Everything about his body was perfect to you. He snorted.

“You like it?” His smile widened. “How about this?”

With that, he split the dick mercilessly in half and reshaped both semicircles to the same girth as the first. He now had two wonderful shafts of exquisite size hanging from the soft brown fuzziness of his crotch.

“Fuck…” You whined, wordless except for the blushing in your cheeks and the glistening in your eyes. You scooted closer to him and sat up on your knees to get your mouth to the height where it could ghost over the shafts. You held them and fidgeted with their shapes, occasionally running your tongue along them, kissing their sides and cupping his balls. You looked up at him as you placed a hard lick over one of the tips and then the other in succession, tasting the precum that seeped from both. He could swear his balls ached at the sight.

“Get up and turn around for me?” Mahito grabbed both shafts and stepped back to keep you from worshiping them any longer. You bemoaned the loss, but got up and turned your back to him.

He embraced you with care and placed pecks on your neck. Mahito stretched an arm to the side and pushed the small wooden table that sat in the middle of the room against a wall. He walked forward with you until he had your legs pushing against the table’s edge and both of you faced the wall. You watched with wonder and a tinge of horror as a bramble of independent limbs split from his own and wrapped around the table.

Mahito placed a long, breathy kiss on your nape before putting his palm on your back and bending you over. You let him hold your wrists delicately and put them together above your head. He guided your forearms to lean against the wall, where he gripped them tight, making sure your hands wouldn't go anywhere. Two hands stretched from the table only to hold you by the lats, steadying you. Still carefully, the curse rubbed your shoulders and bent over you. He kissed your back and ran his other three hands down your sides, squeezing your anatomy and rubbing gentle scratches on the fats he could grip.

“You are being so wonderful, sweetheart.” Mahito placed kisses all over your back, his hair dragging ticklish paths along your sides. You looked back at him. The mood seemed to shift to something more loving than you ever expected.

“So caring all of a sudden? What's the matter, are you insecure about the b-- ahh?” He immediately shoved the top shaft inside your pussy until the base, shutting up any cocky comments coming out of you. The pain devolved your words into incoherence.

“You don't think I'm some kid, do you? I enjoy your teasing, but I'm inexperienced, not stupid. I'm being nice because I need you to relax if I want them both in.” He patted your butt and rubbed it in circles with both hands. “So you'll just enjoy it for me, yes?”

“I will… Mahito.” The line left you breathless. He was suddenly so much hotter than you'd thought. So far you thought you'd been commanding him, but it hadn't crossed your mind that he knew what he was doing. He knew what he was doing.

As he was standing behind you, he had a perfect view of your entrance dripping for him and he gripped your asscheeks and hummed while looking down at it. The way your back arched so nicely against him when he rolled his hips into you was almost as riveting and the feeling of the bottom dick rubbing against your clit with his back and forth. He pushed a few times, letting his cockhead rub on the hood of your clit, before he reached one hand around your thigh to your crotch. The man felt for your clitoris and then gave his palm a mouth to eat you out with. His fingers sprawled under your entrance, where he kept slowly rocking against you.

“Not that you don't have something I didn't know, but the missing piece was feeling it. I know plenty. It's… a Mary's room situation.” He kept talking, earnest and lost in thought while his hand sucked and licked your clit, mindlessly rubbing and patting your curves in admiration. The second shaft twitched and smeared precum on the back of his hand. “I guess it's just that… I can be too rough for humans to have any of the good stuff, I assumed I just couldn't get it.”

He placed one palm on your back and you felt the most sensitive spot of your clit peek out and expand, becoming bigger, more sensitive. Within your muscles, nerve endings branched and reached, making the pleasure increase threefold. If before you were casually enjoying his eating out, now you spasmed and lost breath as the feeling moved you dangerously up the drop of a roller-coaster. You whined incoherent.

“But you… You've shown me the pleasure in them.” He lowered his abs over your back again and got close to your ear. Licks, pecks and bites peppered your back, popping up in places you know mouths shouldn't be. “The pleasure of your wet, gorgeous pussy, deep and clenching for me… No dead or unwilling thing has it. You'll come for me again, won't you, dearie?”

“Mahito- I'm- Ah, I'm-!” Your breath hitched with the building electricity.

“That's just what I wanted to hear!” He chuckled with a genuineness that felt out of place.

The roller-coaster stopped for only a second at the peak of chilling anticipation before dropping you into a storm of pleasure, washing away. You moaned without thought, the sound echoing against the walls and bringing heat to your cheeks with the embarrassment of your pathetic noises. Your legs shook and threatened to give in, but he had more than two arms holding you tight. As you came off it your heartbeat thumped in your ears, in your chest, in your clit.

He praised you as you came, closing his eyes to enjoy your spasming velvet walls around his dick. You felt like heaven, tight, swollen to all hell, plush, malleable as a squishy toy. He couldn't believe he'd willingly discarded it as literary hyperbole. It could be as good as he'd imagined, and it was breaking him. The red of Mary's apple, sitting right in front of his eyes.

Before your mind was back to the present, he pulled out his cock dripping with slick and pressed the tip softly against your ass. With the hand that ate you out, he gathered as much wetness and he could on his fingers by rubbing them between your folds and brought that hand to your anus, where his fingers entered you to spread it all around.

He now had one hand holding your arms and one in the small of your back angling your ass up at him, another one that thrusted softly into your anus and a final one held his top shaft, preparing it to enter. You had just come off your orgasm when he pushed the shaft inside, slowly against the resistance of your ring. The burn reminded you, what you'd almost forgotten by now, that his dicks were still unpleasantly too big.

You whined and he reassured you with shushes and pats until he was in to the hilt. “You said I can fuck you up and you can't take this much? You're disappointing me…”

“It's not- a complaint.” You clarified. It really wasn't, the noises you produced were entirely reflexive.

Mahito hummed in agreement and held the bottom shaft that peeked between your thighs. He pumped it with his fist to spread the excessive precum that seeped from the tip. It had been dripping, neglected since you last licked it. He curved it towards your pussy and pushed in. You felt stuffed, entirely full, with no space left for yearning, no matter how much arousal had deepened your canal. Especially with both their sizes, it was entirely too much.

“This… is so crazy good. Even when I'm not doing anything else…” Mahito sighed as he slid leisurely back and forth into the holes, fully devoted to feeling. The pleasure of a slick recipient was doubled, occupying more of his mind than anything else had. He gripped the back of your head without looking and felt the sticky matted dirt of blood on your hair.

“Hm? What's this from?” He removed his hand in surprise.

“You… when you got my pants off.” You murmured.

“I like it.” He brought the hand to his mouth and licked the blood off it. “I think I know what I want to do…”

“I don't care what you do, just fuck me… please…” you whimpered, growing desperate at his stalling. You tried remove your hands from his grip, but they were well secured above your head. He ran that thumb over your knuckles in consolation.

“Hm, like this?” He pulled back and slammed into you in mockery.

“Yes! Please…!” you nodded vigorously.

“Is that so? I think I would rather…” He vexed and extended two of his arms forward, where they wrapped around your neck and forehead to pull your head back as far as it could bend. Your neck ached and your mouth opened wide in an effort to relieve his grip on your neck. “Even like that?”

“Anything… please-!” You begged, filling up his sadistic ego.

“Aye aye then…” he cheerfully agreed.

He held your hip with his only free hand and pounded you, over and over, without restraint. The arms that held you stretched unnaturally long to allow him to straighten his posture and pound with his full body. Grunts left his lips that sounded entirely too hot to be caused just by effort.

Mahito kept a steady rhythm and pulled your head back with his hands, forcing every muscle in the front of your neck to stretch taut. Your sight was confined to your forearms rubbing against the unpainted cement wall. His grip on your wrists turned your skin white, outlined by a flurry of red streaks. You spread your pinkies apart, trying to place your fingers on the wall, but barely achieved it, still restrained by his fist.

The hand on your neck twisted your anatomy, sending bulges of vein and muscle through you like shivers, pulsing your entire body with gross transfiguration. Not only that, but it sharpened, the web of this thumb thinning into a blade's edge and piercing into skin with his grip. You gasped in desperation as it started to dig into muscle and tried to heal the cut shut against his hand. He tightened his grip and shook your neck, back and forth, to dispel your effort.

“No.” His hand pierced further. “Let it run.”

Blood dripped down your torso, tickling your chest in its path and leaving sticky ruby trails in its wake. Drips ran down his arm and over your collarbones, contouring the mounds of your breasts, until they could reach your belly and fall to the ground, heavy with accumulated volume, unable to reach any further down and losing their grip on skin from the shaking of his pounds.

The cut burned like fire, stealing your attention from anything else. To get your focus back down, Mahito slammed into you hard and started sliding the shafts in alternating paces. He didn't need to thrust his hips: they pumped autonomously. The feeling was like nothing you'd ever had, either. You attempted to force words out of the hyperstimulating cacophony of sensations he was putting you through, shaking your attention away just to call his name. You bucked your hips backward into his thrusts, helping his movement in the only way you could.

He wrapped two more arms around your waist, gluing his body to yours again, and gripped the softness right below your ribs. You lost count of how many he had. He curved his fingers inward into the middle of your abdomen, sharpening his fingertips into precise blades, piercing at the skin and gripping as if he were going to pull out chunks with his bare hands. He gripped your fat and rammed his hips deliciously as blood ran piping hot down his forearms. The curse moaned and let his mouth hang agape, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, as the inherent eroticism of entering flesh turned him on so bad he thought he might come immediately. The pained cry that left your mouth went from his ears straight to his dick.

“Fuuuuck.” He leaned down and breathed hard against your back. The shaft in your ass twitched, bringing too much tension to his lower belly, relaying the message that with another second his balls would turn blue. You clenched your hole around it, milking it for release, and he couldn’t hold anything back. It pumped your ass full of seed, spewing jets of white inside you. Mahito placed his forehead against your spine and whined, his mouth ghosting over you with a small string of drool below. His fringe caught on beaded sweat and stuck to your back, but still he never stopped pumping. It was all only from the dick on top, the one that had been in you the longest. The one in your pussy still hurt for release, winding a fiery coil in his stomach.

His palms distorted you, shifting your insides so your flesh would compress and release against him. He was using you, making you a flesh toy, providing squeeze in his own terms. It peeved him for being too little effort from you, too close to what he already knew, but just the puffiness of your cunt against him was novelty enough. He didn't care now that he was in despair, pining for a second orgasm that didn't delay much further.

He came for the second time with cries that seemed almost painful and whipped his spine straight, carelessly forgetting himself and pulling on your head enough to snap it backwards. He moaned pathetically with the shakes of every muscle and attempted to rock his hips with faltering success. He let go of the grip in every hand and dropped his sweat-covered frame over you, pushing your body down into the table.

“Ah… ah… are you- alive?” He asked meekly at your limp, unmoving frame. He'd done things that would kill a human a few times, but he wondered if this had been too much.

“I told you I would be.” You replied with equally breathless lilt from underneath.

Happiness painted his perspective in pink and he recoiled all but two arms back while the main pair slithered underneath to hug you tenderly. The sticky layer of blood made his hug that much warmer in the literal sense, giving tangibility to the figurative warmth of his thanks. He pulled you tight into his embrace, and you folded your arms over your shoulders to pat his head on your nape, both waiting for their breaths to settle.

“I know it's been dragging out for long, but still… I don't want it to stop.” Mahito turned to nuzzle the side of your head. “I still wish I had more… more of the things only you can give.”

You pushed yourself off the table, forcing him to slip out of your holes and lift himself off as well. You turned to him and cuffed his chin to bring his lips down on yours, kissing him with sloppy nods, which one could almost mistake for a loving trade of affection. He wrapped his bloodied hands on your back, dragging trails that mixed with sweat to smear more than they should. Your lips separated and your eyes met his mismatched pair, half-lidded and full of wonder.

“Tell me…” you whispered into his lips with confidence he had expected to have snuffed out after all this.

“I want to experience your body more…” He licked his bottom lip, unable to divert his eyes from yours. “Let me find out how much I can dismantle you before you break”.

“If you still have the vigor, I'll give you something that you really never had from your attempts.”

You pushed him backwards, making him stumble with crooked steps and fall on his ass. His smile spread further than humanly possible when you got down and crawled over him, dressed in a stained scarf of blood that licked your entire torso in red.

You kneeled at the sides of his hips and reached down to ride him.

#mahito x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk x reader #mahito #mahito smut #fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #dead dove do not eat

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Chapter 6 - Winter is Coming | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: Things are uncertain after your night with Aemond, and a conversation from someone keeping secrets doesn't help. You go into the semi-finals with Cregan and Sara | Word Count: 7.4~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: mentions of grooming behaviour, toxic masculinity, jealous!aemond, swearing, degradation, heaps of sexual tension, aemond being a sexual menace, a lot of dirty talk, p in v unprotected sex, fingering, creampie

A/N: yeah so I thought it'd be the shortest chapter but PSYCH! ksksksks, this one felt nasty to write can't lie

Comments, reblogs & likes are always appreciated in this household. I love u 😚

Sleeping in the same room after that felt like trying to sleep in a place you knew was haunted.

You lay in the double bed, Aemond on the tiny sofa on the other side of the room, his forearm draped over his face in his sweatpants and a black shirt. You fisted the bedsheets that were hiked up to your neck, tugging them higher like any part of you was on show.

You felt you couldn't relax. Trying to sleep in the same spot Aemond had fucked you into not a few hours earlier, trying to will the feeling of him inside you away.

It was impossible.

So when your phone's alarm hit 04:30, you were somewhat relieved that you hit it quickly, not disturbing Aemond while he slept.

You did quickly look over to check though, your gaze lingering on his sleeping form for a moment, remembering the way his hands grabbed at your skin, and the way his hips had rocked near-desperately against your own.

It was maddening to be in the same room with him after that.

Afterwards, you'd parted and Aemond had pulled his dress pants back on, and looked down at you with confusion and concern. You'd met it. Feeling doubt creeping into your bones.

In the silence that had followed your tryst last night, adrenaline and dread going through your veins, you'd shot off a message to El.

'I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up' was all the message said.

Thus, your lock screen was littered with her replies.

You knew you'd have to talk about it. This is what you thought about when you were in the bathroom, door locked and standing naked underneath the steady stream of water.

His marks were all over you, luckily most in places you could hide, but some weren't. And when you touched them, a pleasured pain bloomed to the surface, throwing you right back into being anchored underneath him, in his hands, trembling as you orgasmed harder than you ever had before.

You traced the purple bruises shaped like his thumbs at your hips, remembering how they'd pressed in. Leversge for how recklessly he'd fucked you.

Towel wrapped around you, you curse, realising you'd forgotten to bring in underwear. It's 5am, surely Aemond won't be awake yet.

But this fact was a hopeful one, and you stepped out to be greeted by Aemond, who was pulling on a pair of shoes on the end of the bed, all dressed in his sportswear and ready for training.

His head snaps to you, a brief flush colouring his pale face as he takes you in.

He's seen more than what the towel reveals now.

Much more.

You shrink under his gaze, heat flowing into the skin of your cheeks, just like his. Feeling so utterly on show, the tension thick.

It needed to be confronted.

But when.

You cave first, looking at the floor, "Sorry…thought you might still be asleep"

He visibly swallows, shaking his head, "'s fine" he murmurs, still sleepily jumbling his words.

You expect Aemond to get his shoes on, as fast as he can and leave, without another word. Without explanation.

That's the kind of Aemond you expected.

But he just sits there, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, one leg bouncing nervously. He so wants to say something. But every time he opens his mouth he shuts it again.

"I'm going to get breakfast" Aemond says, pushing himself to stand, leaving the hotel room without another word. The silence that follows after feels like a gaping hole is left behind.

It's too early for breakfast, you thought.

He just wants to get away from me.

He didn't even look at you, when he'd said it.

Did he regret it?

For some reason it makes your skin bloom in both embarrassment and also rejection. Like when you desoertaeky want to cry but know you can't.

Dressing yourself is a blur, literally. The tears sit in your eyes but never fall. You've never felt like this before. Sure you've had casual sex, some not great either. But there was something about doing this with Aemond that made you feel somewhat used.

It was not knowing what to think.

Aemond had no obligation to you. You weren't his girlfriend.

But you did have to be with him every day.

As you pull the hotel room door shut, taking a steadying breath to calm yourself, the opposite one opens wide. Sara Snow appears out of Jace's room, looking happily disheveled, a flush on her face. She had a dressing gown, stark white and belonging to the hotel, tied around her.

"Morning!" She beamed.

You couldn't even find it in yourself to smile. And embarrassment floods your face. Those tears you'd been holding back now fall down your cheeks, and only your mouth is what is muffling the quiet sob that comes out.

Sara's eyes widen, "Oh shit, um-" she ushers you inside the hotel room, which you can see is somewhat in disarray. The en-suite door is shut, the shower running.

"Don't worry, Jace is in the shower" she says, her hands comfortingly on your shoulders, "What's wrong?"

You wipe your cheeks with both hands, looking up so that the tears fall back into your head, "I fucked up, Sara…hugely" you manage.

"How, what-"

The en-suite door opens and Jace barely walks out, towel around his waist until his big brown eyes see you, "Seven fucking hells, Sara! Maybe a warning next time!"

She hurriedly pushes him back inside, shoving his phone into his hands, "Be a good little iPad kid and go in there and don't come out!" She urges, slamming the door.

You'd laugh if you weren't so upset. And Sara takes your hands, sitting you down on the bed.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be doing this, we're competing tomo-"

"Don't be so dumb, it's just fucking skating" she laughs, "Now come on, tell me what's wrong"

You look at her, sniffling some tears thickly back, pressing your lips together.

"Me and Aemond…last night…" you start weakly, hoping she gets it.

She furrows her brows, "And you're crying because?...the dick was so good?"

"No! Sara.."

You don't really know how to explain. How could you?

The things Aemond had said. The things he'd done. Everything came pouring out of you, like you'd known her for years. It was like being drunk in the women's bathroom at a club, except here there was no alcohol to marr the awkwardness of the fact you were essentially strangers, and competitors.

"Right so…you're upset because you don't know what to think? And you don't know what he's thinking?" She asked.

You nod, "I've always been so sure…and he acted so weird, and the way he looked at me.." you sniff, voice still thick with tears.

Sara sighs dramatically, "was it good?"

You look at her, "what?"

"The sex. Was it good?"

Yes. Yes. Fuck yes. It was the best sex I’ve probably ever had.

Your cheeks heat up, even remembering what Aemond did to you.

‘Fuck, you’re soaked for me’

"Well, I…"

‘I want you to look at me when I make you cum’

"I mean, yeah…"

"Girl, don't deny yourself good dick" she says, "he does however, owe you a proper apology and explanation. He reeks nepo-baby"

Thank. You. At least someone else thinks so.

But she is right.

His apology wasn't really an apology. And he had a lot of explaining to do.

"Go on, go out there. Practice. Make him sweat a bit. He'll be grovelling in no time"

You scoff, "you sound so sure"

"If there's anything I'm sure about, hun, it's this" she says, raising her fingers to wipe your eyes, "Now go out there, put on your big girl pants. I believe"

There's the urge to roll your eyes, "Well if you believe…"

She laughs, urging you to the door, "Now if you'll excuse me, Jace has been sat on the shitter watching Minecraft videos for 20 mins and I'm gonna give him a blowie to say sorry"

You pull a face, "Gross, Sara"

She shrugs, blowing a kiss as she shuts the door. You don't even want to think about Sara giving him a blowie if you're honest.

Gym first. Then breakfast.

The golden routine.

By the time you'd made it to hotel breakfast it was still early for the average person, and hardly anyone was there bar a few people who looked as if they'd been up all night.

The buffet table has various things, croissants, cereals, fruits. And you had your plate stacked with food, ready to devour. It was rare you got to eat such expensive looking food, and as long as Hightower Management were paying, you’d make good use of it.

Your mood was almost preserved until you saw a familiar lurking character in your periphery.

Your face soured immediately.

"What are you skulking about for?" You ask, not even bothering to look.

Larys Strong smiles, you can see that much, and he leans against the buffet table. He's always a leaner. Probably to take the weight off his leg.

"Skating match tomorrow, I came early" he answers in that deep, meaningful way. The way in which he thinks he's the smartest person in the room.

"Hm, doesn't mean you can interrupt my breakfast though, does it?" You retort.

"I told you I had some information"

"Yes, but knowing you it's either not true or has a hefty price attached to it"

"I'm not interested in menial things like money" he says, watching you pick up a croissant and plop it on your plate.

"Why don't I quite believe that?"

"I'm interested in knocking Otto Hightower down a peg or two"

What?

You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Why would you want to do that"

"That pertains to the information I have" he says, "a few things you might want to know"

You can't help but roll your eyes.

"Not interested. I have better things to do like eat breakfast if you don't mind"

You hope in the short walk to a table that he leaves you alone. But he doesn't and wobbles over at half the speed. Still with a smirk plastered lob-sided on his face.

"It regards the terms of your employment" he says.

He'd said that before. At the after-party. Before Aemond tugged you away. You can still feel his hand on the small of your back even now, hot.

"And a certain, Floris Baratheon"

You look at him, "What about Floris?" You ask, unable to hide your intrigue and curiosity now.

He smiles, like he's caught a mouse between his claws, digging in just enough to make them wince, "Do you really think it was an accident?"

Your throat closes up and it’s hard to swallow, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

What.

You look shocked, completely frozen by what he's said.

Surely it was an accident. Right? She landed wrong. There's no way they'd possibly have any way of knowing how she'd injure herself.

Your mind swirls with questions.

"Here's my card. Drop me an email and I'll give you the information I have. Screenshots. Text messages. Everything"

You look at the business card hard, before reluctantly taking it, your hand hovering in thin air. Still not sure entirely what to think.

"What's in this for you exactly?" You ask.

"Only the satisfaction" he grins.

He slips away like a ghost before you can say anything else, not even looking back once he’s left the front hall, limping with his cane in one hand.

Something squeezes tight about your chest as you look down at his business card, seeing his name.

What secrets could there possibly be?

Did Aemond know?

Was it even true?

What did they do to Floris?

You feel that, as every day goes by, you just end up with more questions. And the image Otto Hightower enjoys to flaunt as a great, unbeatable powerhouse, is slowly dissolving into mist.

What is he hiding?

When Arryk had told you that Aemond was already at the ice rink, you thought you shouldn't be surprised, he did want to get away from you. But when he told you he walked, having refused a ride.

That confused you the most.

He'd walked all the way to the rink? A good half an hour, at least.

Something was obviously on his mind.

You didn't want to think it was you.

You stood at the double doors for a ridiculously long time, psyching yourself up to go inside. Face him. Make him sweat.

For that entire day, you and Aemond never made eye contact, and you knew it was killing him inside not to say anything, the same as you. And as you practised the routine together, not needing to, but doing it anyway, all the lifts and spins to the music, it wasn’t really a routine, but a dance.

Dancing around what needed to be said.

A dance of building sexual tension. A line that had already been crossed, but not addressed.

But you were not going to be the one to crack.

It had to be him. Anything that came up, he’d have to speak first.

There was a shameless pride in not cracking, watching him suffer to see if you would say anything first. And he was more rigid than ever, doing all the moves he needed with a clay-mation type precision. Like he was entirely focussed on just staying alert.

On the other hand, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you had done, and the thrum of desire had barely left your body since you and Aemond spent that night together. You wondered if he felt the same at all. Wondered if beneath the tough, stony exterior he was trying to show right now, if he was hard as a fucking rock and one wrong move would set him off.

There was some excitement in that. Some power.

But you made good on your own promise, and stayed true to it.

With practice now done, you made a point of not rushing to get your stuff to go back to the hotel room, wanting to wind down before the match against Sara and Cregan tomorrow. Every slow movement you make, you’re aware he’s watching, but not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you care enough to look.

Two can play at that game.

The ice arena this time was huge.

You chalked it up to this being Winterfell, a home of winter sports, including that of figure skating. A slew of reporters were present when you got out the car with your duffel bag, mainly crowding Aemond, which he pushed through without a word, one airpod anchored in his ear.

He was still staring.

Huffing your bag into your dressing room, you don’t even spare him a glance as you brush past him to the foyer, ignoring the blossoming heat in your chest when you get a whiff of his individual cologne, mixed with the detergent of his shirt. You barely even touch him, and it sends you completely dizzy.

His gaze burns into the back of your head as you stride purposefully to the vending machines, fumbling with the coins in your palm to grab an energy drink. A last minute boost before the match in one hour.

Just as the hiss of the can sounds out in an echo, you hear him.

"Hey!"

Mid-sip, you see him, Jace.

You smile.

"Hey Jace, what's up?"

"Just wanted to come check on you before your match" he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. His long, curly dark hair is pulled back and he leans against the doorframe.

"Aw how sweet" you tease, "How was your night with Sara?"

He blushed hard when you say that, looking down at his feet, "Stop"

You laugh, “I’m only teasing. She’s nice” you smile at him, taking a sip of your drink and letting the sugar hit your senses.

Jace sighs, his cheeks still burning, “I came to see if you were okay”

Your brows furrow, and then you remember he was in the bathroom the entire time you and Sara were talking earlier, “Oh. Yeah, I’m alright”

He gives you a look like he doesn't believe you.

“Promise, Jace. I’m fine” you urge, “I can’t say what happened but I was overwhelmed that’s all”

Jace purses his lips, “Aemond still being a dick?”

You don’t mean to, but you freeze on the spot, hotness spreads through your limbs.

“Um…no, it’s…not like that”

At least that’s not entirely a lie.

Jace, bless him, still doesn’t really believe you. And he steps forward, pulling you into a friendly hug, his long arms wrapping around your shoulders judging by how much shorter you are than him.

“I’m alright, Jace, really” you reassure him.

“I know, you always are”

Just as you both pull away, you hear the fire exit door slam, Aemond is outside, a cigarette between his lips and flicking his lighter on.

Fuck.

Had he seen?

You remember what his look had been like when Cregan had hugged you the other night. What he’d done after. It makes your skin prickle just thinking about it.

Who gives a fuck if he saw, is the thought that crosses your mind.

Jace pats your arm, completely oblivious to the situation, “Good luck out there” he grins. You flash him once back, gripping the drink in your grasp, the aluminium crinkling at the intensity of it.

Getting ready is the worst bit, before a match, as it’s the lead up and the nerves that come with it that you hate the most. The outfit you’ve been given is slightly different, an off-white colour with a translucent silky skirt covering the bottom half, ever-so-slightly off shoulder with a scoop neck and little diamantes lining the hem. It glimmers in the warm light of your vanity, looking very much like the top layer of ice when it’s chipped off.

Sighing you finish your makeup, zipping up the bag with the brushes inside, bouncing your leg nervously. Not only at the prospect of performing, but doing it with him, especially with the new air between you after what happened. Your bottom lip feels sore from biting on it, trying to forget about how it felt.

And just as you’re about to go off in a trance, the door to your dressing room opening catches your attention in the mirror.

Not this again. No way.

“Aemond, what the hell are you-”

"No, sorry to interrupt, but I need to say something" Aemond says, with some urgency to his voice, pushing the door shut and locking it in one smooth motion. You turn to him properly, stomach fluttering with nerves.

Why did he lock it?

He looks so nervous. You've never seen him like this. He rubs his neck, like he's getting hot all over.

"Disregarding the other night I haven't apologised" he starts, shocking you. His gaze meets yours, and he wets his lips nervously before he has the strength to say it.

"I'm sorry"

The skin on show erupts in goosebumps.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted when you arrived. I'm sorry for what I said. And most of all I am just sorry for being such a colossal cunt towards you"

Oh.

Right.

Now that he's apologised, you don't really know what to do.

There was an apology. Time for the explanation.

You cross your arms, "Why say it then?" You ask, "if you didn't mean it?"

He looks around, shifting from foot to foot nervously, like he’s looking for an escape. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him this nervous.

Aemond sits opposite you, his gaze anywhere but forwards and his hands clasped tightly, his knuckles turning white.

“I’ve not been alright” he says, his voice wavering somewhat, “I haven’t since-”

“Since seeing her at the after party” you finish. And your breath catches when his gaze meets yours. His features soften somewhat, half in confusion and a sense of being understood.

“Hel told you?”

You nod, mouth drawn in a line.

He scoffs, laughing with a puff of air, “Figures” he says, picking at his black clothing nervously.

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. You deliberately didn’t mention her name, in case it made him erupt in anxious nerves. But even the thought of her, just talking around her, makes him appear smaller, shoulders rolled forward again. Like a child. He’s such a big guy, it’s hard to envision, but it’s mostly the way his expression goes completely distant.

“She took advantage of you..” you say, quietly. Half a question.

Aemond nods, wringing his hands, “Yeah, she did,” he confirms.

“She told me to keep it a secret, so stupidly I did. I thought that…well-I don’t know what I thought” he admits, his voice strained somewhat as his adam’s apple bobs with every pained swallow.

“I guess I thought she loved me,” he says through a sigh.

“Turns out she just wanted my name. My connections” he scoffs, covering his pain with a half-hearted laugh, “And when that started to slip away, when Mum found out, she said she was pregnant”

“Yeah, I know about that..” you respond quietly, listening, your palms flat either side of you on the chair.

You can tell, he’s not sure whether he’s relieved you know or not.

“Even though Mum was always on my side, Otto thought it was stupid of me to get involved with her in the first place,” he continues, “he told me to confront her at the after party. Said ‘it’s what a man would do’. So I did”

There’s a pause as he collects his thoughts.

“I am getting to the point, promise” he says, and it makes you press your lips together, stifling a laugh. You’re not sure if he meant to be funny.

“I hate to fucking say it. But she made me feel…” he trails off, looking at a random corner of the room, searching for the word.

“Small?” you offer.

Aemond looks at you.

“I guess so” he nods slightly, taking a shaky breath in, “Felt like I had something to prove, but I just acted like a cunt doing it. And I know I’ve said but I didn’t mean any of it, I was just so fucking pent up and it’s no excuse but-”

“I get it, Aemond” you say, trying to make him loosen up.

“No, you don’t, it’s-” he grunts in frustration, at not being able to form his words yet again, “I’m also sorry for going all cold on you like that after…”

You swallow at the memory. Trying not to show it on your face, and just praying your cheeks aren’t as red as you think they are.

Silence sits heavy.

“I know I fucked up” he says, quietly, exasperated.

Ouch.

Sighing and pulling yourself together, you stand brushing down your translucent silky skirt, willing the goosebumps from your bare legs to go away.

“We’ve got to be out in 20 and I need to get ready” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as shaky as you think.

“What?” Aemond asks, not moving an inch, his brows drawn together in confusion at this being your reaction. He sees the rejection on your face, how you’re trying to be all strong about it.

“I’ve got to do my hair and everything just-it’s fine. It won’t happen again, it can’t”

Gods, you want to take it all back just like that, just by the way he looks at you. There’s a new softness, coupled with the intensity he’d given you a glimpse of that evening. It still takes your breath away.

He stands, rubbing his palms on his trousers, “Did you not enjo-”

It’s a mistake looking up at him, you now find. He’s so tall, his form all-encompassing alongside his personality. It feels like you’re seeing a new version of him. And that intensity creeps back in, loss of breath, a warm pool of arousal between your legs. The memory.

“No! It’s not that” you say, too quickly, “it's just-it's fine if you regret it, we'll just carry on like nothing happened. I-I mean it could jeopardise both our careers and I'd never get signed again-"

"No, that's-"

"I mean-shit, we’re meant to be business partners and…”

How he’d fucked you better than anyone else had.

His features are just utterly captivating. Everything from the sharp angles of his statuesque face, his cheekbones, his soft pink lips that you’ve bitten and kissed multiple times, ran your tongue over. His good eye, the colour completely eclipsed with the close proximity between you. His gaze flits all over, to your outfit, to the way you’re breathing, your slightly warm cheeks. It feels good to be under his gaze like this, but also exciting, like being in the dark and waiting for someone to come and find you.

You can’t help it.

You want him to touch you again, like he had done that night.

Even though you know you shouldn’t.

It’s only when his cologne becomes stronger that you realise he’s stepped forward, your eyelashes flutter pleasantly at the warmth in your stomach.

“It can’t happen again,” you whisper. Resolve weakening.

He nods only once, “Yeah..”

And yet he steps closer, and you feel the back of your shoes meet the wall.

His lips ghost over yours, as if trying to find a reason to not do it. His eye is half closed, breath coming out in shudders. You feel drunk, light-headed as his hand hovers over your hip, flexing his fingers.

“We shouldn’t” your voice comes out in a breath.

His bottom lip brushes yours, “yeah, we shouldn’t”

It’s useless.

It just feels too right, the way he cages you in with his body against the wall, his lips parting yours for a desperate kiss that sends sparks of pleasure through your blood. The way his knee slips between your legs, making space for himself so that he can press himself as flush with you as he needs to be. The way his hands almost desperately clamour at your body, ghosting over your waist and up to squeeze your breast with one, and the other slipping into your hair, softly weaving the strands in his fingers to pull your face to his.

Cocksure Aemond Targaryen is a passionate kisser, despite what you saw the other night. His talented tongue, tasting faintly of cigarettes and peppermint, slips through your lips, coaxing a quiet whine from your mouth into his, which he accepts with delight. The room feels so fucking hot it’s unbearable. But with Aemond right here, his hardened chest pressed to yours with nowhere to go, and nowhere you’d rather be, it feels so good you don’t care.

You don’t even want to think about stopping.

The hand that is at your breast rolls the flesh in his palm, earning him another breathless gasp into his mouth.

"You drive me fucking crazy" he whispers against your lips, which are already swollen and glistening.

His knee nudges your legs apart, one hand stealing between them to cup your clothed sex, and that delicious tug of arousal in your belly is there again. It just feels too good to be touched by him.

"You were too fucking hot the other night, all laid out for me…" he breathes, teasing you with the pad of his middle finger, drawing soft pleasure from your needy bundle of nerves, "...but you look so cute, in your little outfit…"

He trails off and firmly grips your ass in his other hand, so hard that you whine, sinking into his grasp of your clothed pussy, feeling yourself almost so aroused it's pathetic.

"Aemond, we're on in-"

"15 minutes I know" he says lowly, dragging his nose over your cheek and kissing that spot beside your ear, "plenty of time, baby"

In one swift movement, he bends you over the vanity, your ass pressed flush with his very obvious erection through his black outfit. His large hand curls over your nape, holding gently. Softly.

"Do you think you can cum for me in 15 minutes, pretty girl?" He asks, his own desire evident through the pressing of his hips for friction against you and the deep tone of his voice.

It sends a throbbing warmth through your blood, your core tightens around nothing.

Now that you've had him once, you know how it feels. And you just want more.

"Yes.." you answer, propping yourself up on your elbows, skin rubbing near-painfully on the wooden surface of the vanity.

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as Aemond's fingers hook into the fabric that covers your core, both your outfit and underwear, and pulls them aside, two of his digits diving into your slick folds to collect the wetness on them.

You feel him lean over you, "fuck-baby you're soaked for me" he groans, barely dipping them inside you and instead gathering your arousal and swirling it slowly around your bud, making your hips move towards him, begging wordlessly for more contact.

"Don't tell me all this is for Jace fucking Velaryon?" He taunts and your shocked eyes look back at him, cheeks aflame.

"Wha-ah" Aemond hums as he plunges two fingers knuckle deep inside you, finding that spot he had found not two days before with infuriating precision. Pressure squeezes your core as your pussy stretches around his digits, the tightness of it pulling him further in.

"Answer me" he urges, fucking you slowly with his fingers, massaging the top of your velvety walls.

"He - he's just a friend.." you manage through hurried breaths as Aemond strokes the rough patch inside you aggravatingly slowly.

"I saw the way he looked at you. The way he hugged you" he grunts possessively, increasing the pace, his hand smacking quietly against you with each movement in, "This pussy is mine, isn't it, pretty girl"

"Yes - yes, Aemond…" you chant, feeling that ebb of pleasure begin to build, your eyes breaking closed.

Aemond hums, pulling out and wiping your slick on your thigh, before you see in the mirror how he moves to the buttons of his trousers, quickly undoing them.

"You want me to fuck you, baby? In your dressing room where anyone could hear you?" He asks tauntingly, pulling his already hard length from its confines. The sight of it in the mirror of the vanity, makes your mouth go all dry. Seeing it in the light of day was something else entirely. All you can do is whine quietly in confirmation.

He leans down, his voice hot against the shell of your ear, "You'll have to be quiet then"

You gasp as his cockhead is pushed against your folds, the walls of your core accepting and sucking him in for dear life. Aemond lets out a shattered moan, quiet and soft, as he watches his length disappear inside you.

Lips parted in a soundless moan, your eyelashes flutter shut, too embarrassed to look at yourself in the mirror and the expression you must be pulling. It just feels too good. He has the most perfect cock, long, thick and curved, and fuck does he know what to do with it.

You don't know if you'll ever get over the breathless feeling you're left with as Aemond stuffs his cock into you stretching you open around him.

He doesn't let you suffer for long and luckily takes mercy, setting (at first) a reasonably languid pace. He looks down, watching the way you take him so effortlessly, his shaft glistening from how wet you are. His hand lays flat on your lower back, rocking back and forth as the table makes a soft thwacking noise against the wall.

"Ah-fuck - always wanted to fuck you like this" he moans lowly, his hands kneading the globes of your ass to spread them, pushing himself impossibly deeper. Your back arches at the feeling, clothed breasts rubbing almost uncomfortably against the desk. With your thighs squeezed together like this, he feels so deep inside you you feel like you could burst.

Helpless quiet moans are the only sounds you're capable of making.

Aemond's hips snap mercilessly against your ass, increasing his pace and flesh smacking on yours wetly. If it didn't feel so fucking good, you'd be embarrassed. But either of you are just too far gone to care. And when you crack open your eyes to look in the mirror, the image of his fucked out face, mouth slightly open, is committed entirely to memory.

Gods he looks so fucking good like that.

Knock knock.

Hot embarrassment runs through you, and your cheeks heat up. What the hell do you do? Reply? You don't trust your voice right now.

You're even more horrified when Aemond doesn't stop. So now you really wouldn't trust your voice.

"She's busy" Aemond replies, his voice surprisingly even and calm.

You shoot him a panicked glance, feeling the inevitable building of an orgasm coupled with the idea of being caught.

He looks at you in the mirror, leaning over so his front presses on your back. You try and look away, completely abashed, but Aemond grasps your face to force you to look as you're fucked by him.

"Look at you" he breathes, his tone of voice is like velvet, stroking your lust, "you look so fucking good taking my cock - fuck - made for me"

It's so lewd, so dirty, fucking like this. And yet a deep repressed part of you loves it.

"Dirty fucking girl - I can feel you tightening around me - getting off on nearly getting caught" .

"Aemond…" you mewl helplessly, his cock pistoning inside you faster, hurtling you towards your orgasm that's been building for so long.

"You don't fool me. Out there, you’re like butter wouldn't melt. In here you're just a dirty little cockslut, aren't you"

Fuck. The way he speaks to you like that.

His fingers tease at your clit again, knowing by the way you meet his hapless thrusts that you're close. Your eyes screw up, struggling hard to keep your noises quiet, pleasure rippling through your core to every inch of your body.

You dont last long after he starts massaging your bud, embarrassingly, and your body trembles with blisteringly hot rapture as his cock bullies that sweet spot easier in this position. He chuckles darkly at the hedonistic expression on your face as you cum, whispering praises into your ear that only serve to prolong it.

But he doesn't stop. He chases his.

And judging by the way his jaw slackens, his hands tightening around you and the way his cock throbs inside you, he's close as well.

It's only when your pussy squeezes him for dear life, does he finally still inside you. Warmth blooms at the end of you, and you give one last quiet moan as his cum fills your core. Aemond only gives one grunt, his fingers digging into your flesh, before they soften and he lets the breath out his chest.

Once either of you have your bearings and Aemond pulls himself up, pulling his now softened cock from you, you whine at the loss of him, feeling the stretch of your walls replaced with a deep, comfortable ache.

You meet his eyes in the mirror as he pulls your underwear and outfit back over yourself.

"You're going to keep my cum inside you the entire time we're out there. Make sure you remember who you belong to"

His words steal the breath from your lungs, the eroticism of it reigniting the dulled sparks that are still buzzing from the aftermath of your orgasm.

You right yourself, making sure you look presentable, with no smudges of makeup or hair frizzing up. And Aemond smiles lob-sided, his face flushed, stuffing himself back into his trousers.

"See you out there, princess" he says with a smirk, disappearing out the door.

You can feel his cum leaking out of you already, making you feel hot all over. And you hurriedly pull on your skates, tying them well, and shoot off a quick text to El. You haven't even updated her about the Aemond situation, and you're in desperate need of girl chat.

Your thumbs shake as they tap against the screen, your messages filled with spelling mistakes in the afterglow of what just happened.

Realising you have little time, you manage to pull your hair into some kind of do and make your way down the hall. The arena is rammed, to say the least. And unlike the first time, the reporters are kept to one side, away from the edge of the ice rink. At least you don't have to deal with them bombarding you.

You hate going first.

Fuck, you hate going first.

Not knowing if you have enough points is excruciating.

"There she is, the Ice Princess with her Ice Prince, Aemond Targaryen. Now they seemed to warm up to each other at their last match against the Westerlands, which they crushed, so we'll see if that energy carries on into their performance today"

"The Stark and Snow duo are certainly a force to be reckoned with. Nothing can go wrong if they want the points"

You take several nervous breaths, eyes scanning the crowd. Larys Strong leans on the other side, with the journalists, and you can't help the dread that pools in your stomach, remembering what he'd said earlier.

"Hey!" a deep, husky voice appears behind you. Cregan beams at you, "Good luck out there, not like you'll need it!" He smiles, patting your back.

You force a smile, eyes fitting to Aemond who is busy taking his blade guards off. But you know he's seen you talking to him now. And with the presence of him slowly seeping out of you, it feels exciting to think of how he'd remind you again, whose you were.

"Thanks Cregan, you too. I'm sure you and Sara will smash it" you say politely back, stretching your limbs.

You spot Sara, attached to Jace's face, leaning up on her skates, completely lovestruck. Gods that girl is down bad.

As Aemond gets out onto the ice, Cregan whispers, "Everything okay between you and him? He was weird the other nigh-"

"Oh no! Everything's fine" you lie, feeling your cheeks heating up.

It's not like he just fucked me in my dressing room or anything.

"Good luck!" You say to him as you join Aemond on the ice, shaking the nerves from your body.

When you meet, doing a few laps together to warm up, Aemond smirks.

"How do you feel about the triple sal?" He asks, his shoulder length hair brushing in the wind. Acting like he very much didn't have you bent over the desk a moment ago.

"It's hard as fuck. Why?"

"Let's do that. Instead of the Lutz" he smirks.

You look at him horrified, "Aemond, that's not in the routine! Otto will be piss-"

"Fuck him" he shrugs, smirking, "I know you can do it, princess. I've seen it. Sara and Cregan can't pull that shit"

You both halt in the centre of the ice, he's behind you again, one hand around you. Blood feels like fire when he touches you, his hand flat on your middle. Ready to begin the routine.

"Aemond, are you su-"

"Positive, Princess" he responds. You can hear the grin on his face, tummy fluttering from the term of endearment and the setting he’d used it last.

Seconds after the crowd go quiet, Rachmaninoff's 'Vocalise' begins to play, the soft sounds of the violin through the speakers bounces off every surface in the room, and for the first time, the chill of the arena nips at your skin. Or maybe it's the close proximity, you're not sure.

You and Aemond's routine is soft, ballet-esque, and at first, begins with very little contact. But when it does come round to it, where you previously felt nothing but heaviness when you felt his touch, tugging you along on the ice with him, it now feels so soft, feather-like and ghostly.

You and Aemond this time are well-balanced, not straying for a moment, completely on the ball. He lifts you every now and then, large hands grasping gently at your waist, your back gliding down his body and hands drifting over his face and shoulders.

It almost feels romantic.

Your eyes meet over his shoulder and a welcome thrum is pumped through your veins. You're certain he feels the same, judging by the longing reverent look he is giving you, his cheeks still ever so slightly flushed from the exertion of your pre-performance activity.

"Dare I say, an intimate performance today from both of them and sublime form as always"

"They're going to need this next move. Looks like a triple sal"

Skating backwards, hand in hand, Aemond's breath hits your ear, "Breathe. You can do this"

Aemond flings you into the air, triple twist, right leg landing backwards.

You can't help the smile on your face when you do the rest of the routine, and it's evident on his as well. That's a fucking hard move.

"Perfect! Graceful landing and difficult from that speed too"

The rest of the routine is done on pure adrenaline alone, you don't even hear the crowd's applause. Your stomach lurches with pride, for you and for him, that you've managed it. And at how pissed Otto is going to be that you strayed from the set routine.

But it was well worth it.

The lifts, the spins, it all makes you feel so weightless.

And when you both finally finish the routine, with smiles plastered on each of your faces, chests rising and falling from its exertion.

It feels magical.

"Stunning performance. If they don't get nearly full scores for that, I will be shocked"

"It truly was magnificent, both of them have stepped up to the mark on this one"

You and Aemond skate towards the threshold, running on pure excitement, your hearts going all quick and fluttery. When you look back at Aemond, he looks so graceful still, his hair styled in its usual bun, marginally neater than when he'd left the dressing room only a few minutes before.

Something tugs in your chest when your eyes meet.

You want to kiss him.

Who the fuck am I right now.

But not here, in front of everyone. Maybe he doesn't want that.

Nothing will spoil the mood of how you feel right now, especially since you're graced with seeing a rare, genuine smile from Aemond Targaryen of all people.

You sit on the side-lines, blood humming with intense pride. Watching as Cregan and Sara take up their own spot to begin their routine, not that you can hear much with the incessant clicks of the cameras all pointed at you both.

"Everyone's looking at us" Aemond hums under his breath. You look at him, your leg ceasing its bouncing for a moment.

He turns his head to look at you, sapphire greeting you before his good one, "Who can blame them after that" he smirks, looking around before leaning in to whisper what he's about to say.

"If we win, princess, you're not leaving that hotel room until I'm done with you"

What.

Inadvertently, you squeeze your thighs together, turning away from him quickly away from the cameras, hoping they don't catch the heat that's quickly rising to your face.

You watch with bated breath as Cregan and Sara finish their routine, halting to a stop. The scores stop coming in. Yours and Aemond's eyes both on the scoreboard comparing the technical and artistic points.

"It's not enough! The Icy Couple have done it again! They have made it to the Championship Final!"

You feel frozen on the spot as Sara pulls you in for a hug, squealing unintelligibly, not upset in the least with the result. Your heart hammers in your chest.

"We won?"

Cregan gives Aemond a firm handshake, his lips in a flat smile and a quick nod of the head in respect of the winners.

All you can feel is the buzz of adrenaline in your blood, the flutters in your stomach as reality crashes over you. All you can hear is Sara's excited shrieks, the applause of the crowd, the clattering of the camera shutters. All you can see if Sara bouncing up and down gripping your hands, the flash of the cameras in your face...

...and the look Aemond is giving you.

Taglist 1 (Bold means I could not tag!)

General Taglist: @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics 

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998 | @cathy1514 | @dahlias-and-marigolds | @fan-goddess | @gaeela-6

#aemond one eye #aemond fluff #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond fandom #aemond smut #aemond stannies #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #modern aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen x reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern!hotd #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond #modern!aemond smut #modern!aemond fanfiction #modern!aemond fic #aemond targaryen smut #a perfect score #modern aemond #modern aemond x you #modern aemond angst #modern aemond targaryen x reader #modern!aemond x you #modern!aemond x oc #aemond x oc

[vaguely-concerned]

another really interesting thing in our man bashir to me is that I think this is the point where garak finally mostly relinquishes his self-appointed role as bashir's teacher. he seems to have taken it upon himself early on, for inscrutable but probably partially horny, partially cultivating a promising (and lovely) contact reasons of his own, to imbue julian bashir with some spysmarts and basic bastard thinking literacy skills, in the hopes that he won't go get his bright beautiful excitable ass killed at the first opportunity. there's a lot of mentor/protege undertone there in the early years. (if you want to get into asit stuff, very much in the same vein as palandine and garak's relationship in the beginning.)

but in omb garak really only has one of his little lectures, and it's basically about The thing about being a spy (and a person) that has most shaped his life: That's something else you've yet to learn, Doctor. A real intelligence agent has no ego, no conscience, no remorse. Only a sense of professionalism. There is no joy, no magic, no real delight to this, no winning, no recognition, and most importantly no connection; the reward for work well done is only ever the work itself. You don’t kiss the girl, get the key — you simply get on with turning yourself into nothing as best you can. and julian, who had just been trying to momentarily imagine a world where secrets can be cool and glamorous and for good, meaningful reasons that empower him to help the world rather than shameful and isolating and alienating and like a damocles sword hanging over him and everything he cares about, shoots back with 'well, but what if not that, though? that's the whole point of this game! this is my story not yours, trust me to know it better than you do. (I have more things to teach you too, if you’d just listen. And once he gets shot a little bit, garak does listen.)'

(somewhere beneath all this is almost exactly the same debate they will have explicitly later on -- "Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all"/"If that's true, that's one lesson I never want to learn". Something something the freedom to imagine and play around with different worlds in your head, no matter how cringefail james bond LARP nonsense that world is as long as it brings you hope and joy and new perspectives, kill the part of you that cringes etc. Garak you're allowed to get out of the closet in your head now, Tain is gone, you can imagine different things than what has been and no one will turn it against you. Im… sad)

through most of this episode garak is observing, and when he's not simply bitching about everything from the sidelines (<3), he's tentatively trying to throw in comments to play along, to figure out how the flow goes like he's learning a different language, and he's BAD at it hahaha. he barged in there to put himself in a position to learn something about julian bashir's ~*hidden inner psyche*~, but UH-OH spiritual uno reverse card time he's having to face some shit about his own psyche and the immense barrenness it's been forced to operate under for so long.

The learning between them has of course always been two-way (that’s partially what the whole relationship is built on), but in giving up the more ‘formal’ role — mask — of teacher, garak is also opening up space for realer emotional intimacy, letting one layer of artificiality fall and allowing more realness to shine through. even so he doesn’t let go of control completely until he’s faced with irrefutable (horny) proof that julian’s sentiments and ideals are backed by real conviction — julian knows (possibly better than garak does) what is a game, and what is real, and where he draws the line between frivolous and deeply necessary is different from where garak would and by the end of the ep I think garak trusts julian more, enough to leave the story in julian’s hands without trying to steer or form him even indirectly/sneakily. And to top it all off, the way julian uses his last dramatic speech to signal that he did also listen to what garak told him… augh.  

the teacher role, along with the lies (ever his swiss army knife god bless), has helped garak keep a sort of fine-tuned control of the level of emotional intimacy possible between them, stay in control of what narratives are even on the table. and I think finally letting that fade more into the background transforms their relationship in ways that can pay off big time down the line, for all that it leaves things a bit strange and tentative in the meantime. by garak standards he’s being positively transparent in this episode. for the first time he talks about his time in the order without any coy prevarication, he states his hunger for knowing julian better right down to his ~*hidden inner psyche*~ almost pathetically openly (<3<3<3<3). And this is just my headcanon and definitely not what was meant at the time of airing, the unplanned nature of the augment reveal being what it is, but in context of the whole show as it became it feels a lot like garak offering some of his own authenticity to signal that julian could trust him with his. It feels like garak has figured out at least the rough outlines of what julian has uh got going on and tried to make this gambit, having… perhaps underestimated the extent of the defenses julian has internally/psychologically against Being Known, quite aside from the practical real world consequences of his secret getting out. Anyway. Lots in this episode. Many thoughts.

#the our man bashir post that was promised #garashir #star trek #star trek ds9 #ds9 #elim garak #julian bashir #does this make any sense. perhaps not. but at least it's out of my head lol #ds9 meta #long post

[egot1stical]

ramblings about how winter king is not a simon but an ice king from my insta story. no idea how much sense this makes

Not to post a serious analysis of mr oncest bait, but it's kind of... *wrong* to say the winter king is Simon? I think it's more accurate to call him an ice king who THINKS he's Simon. His whole bit is that he removed the madness of the crown from himself, but the ice king isn't just "simon but crazy". The ice king is the result of the wish crown's curse over the span of 1000 years breaking down Simon's psyche and replacing and warping and mixing it with Evergreen (specifically Gunther's warped view of him) and adding more madness and sadness till he basically experiences ego death. We know our Simon (at least at this point) considers he and ice king separate entities. They have pretty different personalities

Winter king is more like ice king than Simon:

* Physical stuff. Obviously. He's taller, has longer straighter hair, and is fucking bright blue+ still has evergreen's nose LOL. But also smaller stuff like the fact he dresses different and has different shaped glasses

* WAYYYYY more outgoing. Even before All That, Simon doesn't seem like the most outgoing guy. He would go on expeditions yes but could you imagine that guy throwing a party? No.

* Way more selfish and self absorbed. Which is in line with ice king, but now he's conventionally attractive so everyone else agrees. This is opposed to the fact Simon want to khs

* No consideration for PB. This is an interesting one, because it's the first departure from both our Simon and IK. Obviously ice king was terrible to PB LOL but like....he liked her.....because she was like betty..... And now Simon really respects her (and feels terrible about it.) while WK straight up does NOT care about her. Different from both, but closer to IK because he is a dickweed

* Deals with emotions differently than Simon. Seems to have completely blocked Betty out (assuming they were still close in this universe). And marceline bro... whatever happened there, ice marcy is the KID version of her. He has her bass, so she at least grew up and they've interacted. Maybe she saw him get "fixed" and was like.
Wow! You're not Simon!

* The name. Fionna's dream has the "ice prince", and that's what she calls Simon upon meeting him for the first time. If this was a True Simon, it would make more sense for him to be called the ice prince in universe, no? But he keeps the King title.

Simon spends a lot of the episode jealous of the winter king because he seems so well adiusted while he has the crown.

Simon has no magic, no nothing, but at least he has his brain back. The crown is very much directly linked to his loss of identity and to see WK be CONSCIOUS and LIKED and seemingly HIMSELF with magic is something he desperately wants especially at a time like this when his mental health is down the shitter while everyone talks about how much more fun he was when he was legitimately insane

The difference is that Simon spent every *conscious* moment FIGHTING the crown. Winter king is NOT fighting that shit. He says that he "conquered" it, but no you did not buddy. He is still dependent on it. He cannot survive without it. He just gave up. He's accepted that he's become one with it instead. So did ice king. Except without the madness of ice king, he can be a semi functional human being. He still gets the high of the crown and all its power, but this doesn't change the fact it Changed Who He IS.

Doesn't fucking matter rn becauee Simon hates himself and wants to be someone else but you get the idea. Winter king is just a version of Ice King LARPing as Simon. He can just do this way more convincingly even to himself because he can actually think now

Like “Betty? OH HAHA THE DEAD ONE” is an ice king ass reply and I swear to god at least part of the reason they didn’t get Tom Kenny to do his voice is because it would just be ice king’s voice again

also in regards to why candy queen is like that-Okay one, this goes with the name thing. Princess bubblegum. Normal. Candy Queen. Insane. Same as winter/ice king and ice prince. We cool?

Anyway

The Madness manifested in Simon/ice king in regards to Betty as romantic obsession. With the madness gone, CQ is the one feeling the brunt of these feelings- which would explain why Winter king doesn't remember feeling so Strongly about betty. Because Simon's feelings about her are naturally just fucking insane, it's so intertwined with the Madness that when that part is removed, so are any feelings towards Betty.

CQ is probably also obsessed with WK and "being together" because the sane part of her mind recognises that this madness is HIS and this is her fucked uo way of trying to like. Give it back.

That’s all I got

#winter king #simon petrikov #ice king #fionna and cake

[glitteryinknotes]

Astarion & his life before Cazador

After seeing a few different takes on it, my thoughts have been circling around Astarion's pre - vampiric life and what it must have been like to shape him into the person we know, behind the trauma and his attempts to hide the truth of his feelings and vulnerability inside him.

After days of musings, I've tried to gather my thoughts into a single analysis of a sort, both on his general mindset and his life as the person buried in the graveyard as Astarion Ancunin.

What can be said - disappointing as it is - is that in his life he most likely was what can be tactfully referred to as "an asshole". He held a magistrate's position, but most likely didn't give a damn about anything other than luxuries this position provided him with and the life of utter debauchery he was given on a silver plate. I don't think he's ever had to really fend for anything nor work towards anything, or deal with any kind of problems either on personal or any other level. What's worse - he probably had his part in some form of severe oppression of the common people, otherwise why would he get jumped and beaten to death (his attackers clearly aimed for his death, not just a lesson to be taught) in his own city.

(I would like to mark at that point that my further thoughts are not an excuse for him being a shitty person. If he was a dick indeed, that's on him)

Astarion is, fundamentally, as others have pointed out before me, a rather selfish person - or more specifically, self - absorbed to the point of selfishness. That's one of his core vices.

However.

He isn't an evil person either. He is capable of compassion and taking interest in other people. He is fiercely loyal to those he loves (that being Tav) and capable of consideration, pride and joy for those he considers friends. He is very slow to trust (understandably so) or accept kindness - but once he does, he remains true to the people who granted him those gifts. His confession scenes are the best proof of that - where his consience, still intact, is eating him up as he can't stomach leading on the only person he knows who treated him well.

And as much as he adores his own charms, beauty, pleasure, fine things, there is deep within him the yearning for something more than that. He isn't truly sated by all of those shallow things, nor is he pushed to any kind of growth within them. This yearning is something he is barely able to recognise and understand himself, let alone pursue it. But it's there.

Astarion's character and behavioral patterns must have been shaped before. The trauma from Cazador's enslavement broke him, scarred his psyche to unimaginable extent, exposed his worse qualities and drove him to become a shell of who he could have been, leaving him utterly out of touch with himself, burdened with indescribable guilt and self - loathing, stuck in desperate survival mindset. But his inner self was still shaped somewhere and somehow.

I've come to imagine that his pre-vampiric life wasn't really a happy one. It was undoubtedly rich, loud, unspoiled by any hardships, but fundamentally empty. Without any semblance of meaning, without any true kinship with anyone or any genuine emotional intimacy. Even if he lived like there was no tomorrow and nothing in the world mattered but his pleasure - deep down, maybe he knew he wasn't truly satisfied and that no amount of shameless, drunk debauchery would ever fullfill this emptiness. Perhaps he craved something more after all, something he hadn't been taught how to seek.

Now how could it have come to that?

He was most likely born in some wealthy local family (or one with considerable influence in the city) that held the position of the magistrate for generations, hence his lifestyle and being granted the title at such a young age for elven standards (he was 39 at the time of his presumed death; i personally would equal that to no more than 30 years by human standards, more like middle 20s even). He was obviously somebody's son - but I don't personally believe he ever experienced the healthy, genuine love a child should be provided, he strikes me as a type of person who never quite had a good, trusted role model to look up to, no one to call him out on his vices and lovingly steer him into growing into a possibly best version of himself. No one to check him on his selfish instincts and show him that there may be a more rewarding way of going through the world. That kind of thing usually happens through some sort of neglect and lack of sufficient care; my guess is that he never had an actual meaningful bond with his parents, was raised mostly by hired caretakers and overall in his childhood didn't experience the much needed selfless love & care from emotionally close people, the kind of love that subconsciously makes us believe that there is good and kindness in the world and that it's worth the effort on our part.

Whatever came in his elder years couldn't have been better, and it certainly didn't make him a better person. Some amount of power, money, countless pleasures, all of that he so adores but which doesn't ultimately fullfill him nor make him truly value and appreciate himself on a deeper level. And after his death - he was most likely mourned in some way, but not necessarily missed by anyone and was quickly forgotten. Perhaps his parents remembered - but they too eventually moved on.

What leads me to believe that?

The most interesting thing about Astarion's final love declaration to Tav is that he says he feels "seen" with them. It's one of the most beautiful things we people can offer each other - the feeling of being "seen" and safe in that sight, understood, felt, valued. That can only happen when the other person knows us well enough to be aware of all the ugly qualities we possess, but is just as aware of our capability for all the good ones, and so, in the greater picture sees the better version of ourselves (sometimes even better than we ourselves can picture) and that vision, when truly caring for the other person, we trust and want to live up to. By seeing ourselves the way our loved one sees us, we allow ourselves to grow and be better.

I don't think Astarion ever had that kind of person. I don't believe that he ever, in his pre - vampiric life, experienced a kind of love and trust needed for such a feeling - being "seen", and wanting to be seen as someone good, worthy, valued. Even more - I don't think he ever had any kind of true friend or companion. And that kind of emptiness deeply cripples a person, no matter who they are.

The tragic thing is - Tav may not be the first person to show Astarion kindness and care after years of torment from Cazador, they may be the first selflessly caring and kind person in his entire life. Even if he doesn't remember anything about his previous life, emotionally, he doesn't even seem to recognise the feeling of being cared for, considered, valued, appreciated for who he is, he doesn't instinctively recognise emotional closeness of any kind. Tav may be his first ever true companion, confidant, someone he comes to value and trust enough, that he eventually wants to be the same for them - and be better himself.

Tav may just be the first person to be a selfless and genuinely healthy influence for him, the first person to call him out on shitty behaviour and challenge him, but also to the first one to care. Ever. The first person Astarion comes to care about. The person through whom he learns to care and value more, both others and himself. And the person through whom he learns to love.

I don't believe he ever loved before, nor was he truly loved in the first place. Maybe he never tried, maybe he never dared, maybe he didn't know how to, maybe no one taught him. Tav was the best thing to happen to him in both of his lives.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion analysis

[confiscatedpeaches]

William Afton Kidnaps You, Part 2

William Afton x fem!Reader

part 1

PSYCHE! Y'all thought I was posting tomorrow, but I literally got so horny for this old man I wrote this in one sitting.

Minors DNI, Reader is assumed to be 18+

TW: noncon, violence, forced breeding kink, age gap, restraints, blood

"Please I didn't do anything! I don't know what you're talking about!"

You struggle against him, but his hand is firmly pressing you into the filthy mattress.

"Like hell you don't! Always teasing me, always taunting me with your youthful feminine figure. Don't play dumb love."

You feel your panties around your ankles. The cold air hits you and you realize how exposed you are. You wriggle and writhe beneath him, making it hard for him to place himself inside of you. He spanks you hard, the ring on his hand cutting into you. He strikes you over and over, until you feel bruises and welts beginning to form. His fingers intertwine with your hair. Pulling you up by the back of your head, he whispers into your ear.

"Be a good fucking girl and behave yourself for me."

You slam into the mattress below. The wind knocked out of you. Dazed and confused the room starts to spin. In your moment of weakness, he grabs his cock and brushes the tip against your swollen pussy before slamming deep inside of you.

You lurch forward. He's too big for you. This hurts. Blood and precum leak out of you. His cock is stretching you out, molding you to it's shape. In a last ditch effort to make this stop, you beg.

"Please... stop... please... please don't do this I'm begging you..."

He lets out a heavy sigh, hand still holding you down.

"Sorry love, just relax for me. You'll enjoy this too, if you let yourself."

Your survival mechanism starts to kick in, and you freeze. There was no way out of this now. He takes this as a sign of submission, and continues pounding into your tight tender hole. Animalistic grunts escape him. The room begins to smell of sweat and sex.

He shifts positions to reach deeper within you. The head of his cock begins to rhythmically massage your g-spot. You stifle a whimper. Your sex betrays you as you feel some sort of sick pleasure rising within you. It's disgusting. Why are you enjoying this? This is horrible. This is wrong on so many levels. You hate this man, but your body is loving him. He grins, sensing the signals your body is sending.

"Mmm... do you like it when I do that?"

He grinds his tip against you harder, deeper. Pleasure pools within you, burning you up inside. In an attempt to keep quiet, you bite your lip so hard it bleeds. Hot iron fills your teeth and tongue. Guttural sounds ripple through you. It feels as though he is reaching down your throat and pulling whines and moans from your guts. You feel you breasts bouncing under you with the rhythm of his hips. Your body starts to shake, another betrayal. You know an orgasm is coming, and it makes you feel ashamed. He laughs between grunts. Taking his hand off of your head, his fingertips dig into the sides of your hips.

"Mm... come for me darling. Cum on my cock like a good girl."

"N-no.... stop please... ah..mmmm-no."

"Don't try to hide it love, admit you're enjoying this just as much as I am."

You stay silent. Tired of the pain, tired of the pleasure, you give in to him. Relaxing into the mattress, you feel the orgasm begin to build even more.

"Mmm.... ahhh... please... mmmph.."

You arch your back as the climax washes over you. Wet slick drips down your thighs as you come for him. Your inner walls expand and contract. Trembling and weak, you moan loud He continues slamming into you. He's getting close to cumming himself. A realization hits you.

"No..! Please don't..... come inside of me... nooo!"

You buck your hips back in an attempt to throw him off of you, but that only elicits a moan from his lips.

"Yes! Yes lovey.... I'm going to come inside of you... God I love it when you struggle. Keep struggling for me darling, I can feel you tightening on my cock"

Resistance sparks within you. You can't let him cum inside of you, what if he gets you pregnant? Like an animal's dying final fight-or-flight, you squirm, you scream, and try to crawl away. His hand reattaches itself to your scalp, slamming you down once more, causing pain to shoot through you. Exhausted and worn down, you relax fully.

"Good girl, you're being so good for me doll. Let me fill your tummy full of me."

He gives a few more good pumps before his hot load paints the insides of your womb. He slumps over and groans as he empties himself within you. You can feel his cock pulsating against you.

In the end, he got what he wanted out of you.

#william afton x reader #william afton smut

[nerves-nebula]

betcha thought u saw the last of me huh

been in a major writing slump for the past year, and now and conquering my writing slumo to hopefully get over all of my other ones so here u go this is inspired by a post a long time ago that i can’t find ab everyone falling back into old habits at the farm house and i can’t remember if it was april or casey who set them into shape but i needed an excuse to make it faggy

the farmhouse itself was nothing like the sewers. warm wooden walls, sunlit windows, and soft carpet were a very dramatic change from the damp, cold walls of the sewer, made colder by the presences within them.

 

it was a change, for sure, but raph couldn’t help but think it was a welcome one.

 

everyone could tell something had changed between them, between everyone. eggshells littered the floorboards during short, awkward conversations, before the occupants retreated back to their designated spaces.

 

some things lingered, though. what is it that people say—it takes twenty one days to form a habit? well, raph has been doing this for nineteen years, so beat that. he’s spent almost two decades walking on autopilot, not thinking twice about anything until it became a threat, picking up after everyone, cooking, cleaning. the list carried on.

 

and for the better part of two decades, his siblings had accepted that. some smart people online can say whatever they want, but a few weeks in the farmhouse can’t undo years of habit. but it was fine. it was fine if he spent a good few hours of his day cleaning up mikey’s paint. it was fine if donnie’s gadgets were scattered across the table. it was fine if leo left dishes in the sink from a meal he couldn’t be bothered to share.

 

it was fine.

 

raph was fine.

 

his brain woke him up early. it always did. he had to make breakfast and clean up the mess everyone probably made after he turned in for the night, and donnie probably hasn’t showered in awhile, so he needs to get on that and-

 

“you’re thinking too loud.” a voice grumbled from below him. that was odd. casey was never up this early. that was new. “quit it.”

 

“…sorry.” raph muttered, lifting his head from casey’s chest. that was relatively new too. he saw the way mikey looked at them, like he knew something they didn’t. he and casey were old friends, even if the bed thing was new. “i didn’t know you were up.”

 

“oh, im up alright. i’m up to make sure that you aren’t.”

 

…

 

“huh?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he glanced up at casey’s face. his hair was tousled with sleep, leaving his eyes actually visible in the soft light of dawn. the warm sun hit the brown irises perfectly, casting them in honey.

 

“you heard me.” casey yawned, tossing a tan arm over his eyes. the long, thick strands of his uncut hair splayed across the pillow in tendrils. slithering out across the cotton to root their host into the mattress. “you’re sleeping in.”

 

…

 

that’s new too.

 

his mind screamed in protest. he didn’t do well with change; he never had. that was his routine—his new one. he woke up early, made breakfast, ate as much as his body would allow him, and then some, and then cleaned. leo would wake up next, take his fill, not clean his plate, and fuck off to god knows where. then mikey would emerge, and then donnie. april came down a few hours later, and then finally casey would wake up. it was never like this; he was never last.

 

some part of him, deep inside his psyche, begged for a break. sleeping in would be nice. he couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be than right here—casey’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, holding his head against the soft flesh of his stomach while absolutely shrouded in blankets. he hadn’t been this comfortable in years.

 

he was wasting time. dad never liked waiting for breakfast.

 

dad wasn’t here, and frankly, he could go fuck himself.

 

it took twenty-one days to form a habit. how long does it take to break one?

 

without a word, raph settled back into casey’s body and closed his eyes.

 

—:—

 

the next time he woke up, casey was still under him. the sun was higher in the sky, now painting the walls in golden rays as opposed to the vibrant pinks and blues of dawn. his friend's hand ran across the ridges of his shell, rendering him practically immobile. his limbs were loose with contentment, and his vision was hazy as he flicked his eyes around the room.

 

“mornin’. again.” casey grinned down at him, that gap-toothed smile wide, and pleased with his own poor joke. his fingers never stopped their soothing motions on his carapace, though, so raph decided to let it go.

 

his eyelids felt heavy as he forced them to stay open, blinking sleep away while flexing his body. every finger, every toe, arms, legs, and then finally his neck as he lifted his head from casey’s warmth.

 

“what time is it?” he asked, pushing his body up into a sitting position, much to his mind's dismay. everything in him was screaming to lay down again, to soak up casey’s warmth like the man was a rock in the sun. he may as well be with his body temperature.

 

casey helped him up, his big hands steady against his biceps as he manoeuvred raph into a sitting position in front of him. the sheets pooled around their waists as raph leaned his head against casey’s shoulder. the room was so cold now.

 

“c’mon.” raphs shoulder was prodded gently, and he raised his head to gaze into where casey’s eyes hid behind his hair. his voice was soft and low, like a vibration in the air.

 

maybe that could explain the tingling in his spine.

 

bare, tan feet hit the floor first, before his hand gently tugged the turtle off the mattress. still dazed with sleep, he stumbled, leaning into casey’s side to take the weight off of his unsteady legs. the stairs were the hardest to conquer, with all three of raphs fingers grasping casey’s wrist while they manoeuvred down the steps.

 

a muffled scolding sounded from the next room, and raph felt something inside of him freeze. it wasn’t dad splinter. splinter usually yelled, or even just spoke, but he never tried to make himself quieter. maybe the humiliation of everyone else knowing you were in trouble was part of the punishment.

 

“i swear to fucking god.” the voice spoke, tone controlled yet flaming. “i’m done watching him pick up after you guys. i love you, you’re my friends, but you need to get your shit together.”

 

his brain didn’t quite comprehend who was speaking until he heard the next voice.

 

“it’s not that big of a deal.” leo’s familiar tone punctured the air. raph refused to allow the sound to stab him like the knife it always was. “he’s done it forever! i’m sure he’s used to it by now!”

 

“that doesn’t mean it’s fine, leo!”

 

“april, w-we’re all getting better…aren’t we? i mean, we clean up after ourselves decently...”

 

“no, the house is clean because raph is still cleaning up after you guys like he’s your mom!”

 

casey’s hand tightened a fraction on his shoulder, and he looked back down at him with a grin. “how about we go outside, yeah? it’s s’posed to be real nice out.”

 

before raph could complain or comply, he was already being led in the other direction, hearing the voices fade back out. he opened his mouth, and casey cut him off. “i know you’re hungry. i’ll getcha something. wait outside for me? ‘kay?”

 

and like that, he was gone. the door closed behind him as raph turned his eyes to the tree line, plush with vibrant leaves and dark soil. remnants of dew still clung to the blades of grass, shining brightly in the light of the sun.

 

the wood of the patio was warm against his feet, and he leaned his elbows to the railing, licking his eyes into the woods. his eyes were still heavy, and the place around his neck where casey’s arm previously lay left a pleasant scorch sinking into his skin. still, the voices from inside bounced in his skull. at least the yelling was familiar.

 

somethings never change.

thaNKK YOUUU !!! this was SO CUTE UGH. you get the first neglected art i've been able to make in a while

#nnstuff #nnart #ask #asks are sweethearts #neglected fic #teenage mutant neglected turtles #neglected art #tmnt raph #casey jones

[dollwritesarchive]

Can I request dio, mindbreak, and you're the cutest when you're fucked all the way out 💖

i am screaming minus the s i love him so much. part three dio fits this soooo well 😵‍💫 thanks for the request bubs!!

for doll’s bizarre birthday blurbs !!

cw : smut ( minors dni ), mindbreak & mentions of sexual conditioning / manipulation, dio’s follower!reader so power imbalance, overstimulation mention, creampie, cum marking, dio being a menace

“Look at you, fighting the losing battle.” Dio would’ve chuckled, had his mouth not been twisted in a pleasured grimace. you certainly looked pathetic, and he liked it. “You’re trying to keep it together, aren’t you?” you try to nod, whining hapless and incoherent, and then he does laugh. “Don’t.” he barks, gruff, one hand raining a hard swat against the underside of your thigh. “You know I think you’re the cutest when you’re fucked all the way out.”

crumbled on the floor, your shoulders your only contact for supporting the rest of you, your chin had previously been forced into your chest so you could witness your own decimation, but you had recently traded it to allow your head to roll around on the floor, eyes glassy and unfocused. Dio had one, massive foot on the back of your right calf, pinning it parallel with your head on the cold, stone floor, and he held the other in a tight grip, keeping you spread wide for him even after you’d cum so many times your psyche started to fracture.

“Who’s my favorite braindead, little fuckhole?” he coos, content to taunt you in this dazed state. it was getting him off.

your eyelids flittered, a drunken half smile teasing your lips, and you somehow found the words within a breathless mewl, “I— I am, Lord Di—Dio…“ it was an easy role to fall into, serving him. becoming his property to use as he desires and discard when he bores of you ( though, you were determined never to bore him ). and Dio had pounded the sentiment into you over and over; your purpose was his pleasure and nothing else.

you were amazed, in awe, of just how virile Dio was. he’d been at it for hours, fucking the brains out of your head, twisting you up in any position he wanted, and he’d cum, too. it had to be at least three times, if your full belly and the spurts of alabaster that bubble out of you with each, brutal thrust of his herculean hips was any indication. the creamy cocktail of both of your releases coats his cock, too. if your eyes could focus, you’d watch it slide in and out of you, and feel butterflies in your tummy when you took every inch. you were driven especially mad when he probed deep, because you could see the shape of him pressing against your belly button, and feel him throbbing in your guts.

Dio exhales, pulling himself free from your body with a sickening pop, your canal gripping him so tightly that you’re surprised he could even withdraw. and just in time, because his fourth release drizzles over your sex, dribbling down over your belly. “And to think, I almost sent you out to fight for me,” golden locks wild, he tilts his head to one side, smearing his twitching cock head between your tender netherlips, rubbing over your swollen clit just to watch you whimper and squirm. he drops your leg, which falls forward, mirroring its twin. “I would’ve wasted your true potential as my breathing sex doll.”

you’re panting, babbling nonsensically, but you reach up with shaking hands and spread your sex without being told to. a true, broken whore, you brandish your destruction.

Dio grins, watching as more of his spunk oozes out each time you clench around air.

“But you like this arrangement so much better, yes?” he asks, worming two, thick fingers into you— pushing his releases deeper inside. you moan, weak and submissive, nodding before he’s even finished asking the question. “You much prefer being your lord’s sloppy toy?”

nodding again, you bite down on your lip. you can’t say no to him. you couldn’t even consider it. “I— live to serve you how—however I can, Lord Dio…”

Dio chortles. “That’s exactly what I like to hear.”

#dio brando x you #dio brando x reader #dio brando smut #dio brando #dio brando imagine #dio #dio smut #dio x reader #dio x you #jjba smut #jjba x you #jjba x reader #jjba #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure smut #jojo’s bizarre adventure x you #jojo’s bizarre adventure

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley Masterlist

➺ All works are F!Reader

➺ 18+ fics will be marked & all works will be sorted from most recent upload to least recent.

➺ Popular fics will be marked with a '✧'

ONE-SHOTS:

✎ STREET LAMPS & STORIES - Fluff, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [You have a nightmare; Simon is there to comfort you.] ❞

✎ TO BE ALIVE IN SUMMER - Intense gore, torture, angst, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [Betrayal had never been in your cards, and you definitely didn't see yourself being the one responsible for the act. When having to go undercover, first comes the problem of staging your death.] ❞

✎ IF YOU BITE MY HAND AGAIN - Heavy angst, abandonment, Simon's comic backstory, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [How dare he show his face to you after all of these years. How dare you still find it in yourself to love him.] ❞

✎ UNTITLED - Angst, death, panic attack

╰┈➤ ❝ [Civilian reader kills someone out of self defense for the first time.] ❞

✎ BROTHER'S COWORKER - Fluff, banter, pining, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [In the dim illumination of the streetlights, Ghost lays eyes on a woman leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp.] ❞

✎ BLOOD WAS ITS AVATAR - 18+, angst, blood, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [Getting close to you was never his plan, but when he can't stop his self-protective instincts from pushing you away, will he be able to repair your strange friendship? Or will his body have to speak for him?] ❞

✎ HARVEST STORMS - Angst, father!Simon & daughter!reader, injuries

╰┈➤ ❝ [In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.] ❞

✎ BETWEEN DREAMS AND SUGAR - Torture, gore violence, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [Your screams will haunt his dreams until the day he dies.] ❞

✎ A GOOD MAN - Simon's past traumas, his psyche, fluff, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [If such a thing as a good man existed, Simon Riley knew he was not it.] ❞

MULTI-PART WORKS:

➺ 'TIL IT HURTS:

✎ PART ONE - 18+, gore, violence

╰┈➤ ❝ [You thought that it would be easy - moving on and blazing your own trail, but at every step, memories seem to come back and haunt you. And the biggest memory takes the shape of a man with a skull mask. Can you still deny what you had always felt when he stands at your side once more?] ❞

✎ PART TWO - 18+, gore, violence

╰┈➤ ❝ [See above.] ❞

➺ NEICE!READER:

✎ ANOTHER WORD FOR PROTECTION MASTERLIST - Simon's comic backstory

╰┈➤ ❝ [To you, another word for protection wasn't even a word at all, it was a single name: Simon Riley.] ❞

#masterlist #simon ghost riley

[distort-opia]

https://www.tumblr.com/distort-opia/693230466074132480/top-10-gayest-things-batman-has-uttered-about-the

Literally screaming reading this. Show this to my friend, they don't even ship batjokes but even they acknowledge how gay it is. A part 2 maybe?

Ah yes, I love that post too. Sorry to have taken so long, but here's a Part 2 to "Gayest things Bruce has uttered about or to Joker"!

11) “It's me you want -- it's me you've always wanted. Free her and I'll let you have me. [...] All the bullets in all their guns won't stop me from reaching you... the adrenalin of all the years between us will carry me straight to your throat, Joker... and when the bullets finally bring me down... I'll drag you down with me.”

-- Detective Comics (1937) #532

12) “...but that isn't my mission here. It's him. I'm just as obsessed with him as you are.”

-- Batman (2016) #135

13) “Does he recognize me? Does he know who I am? I may never know. I'm feeling a terrible sense of finality... We've been linked to each other for so long, neither of us truly understanding the bond.”

-- Batman: A Death in the Family (1988)

14) “Don't you understand? I don't want to hurt you. I don't want either of us to end up killing the other. [...] It doesn't have to end like that. I don't know what it was that bent your life out of shape, but who knows? Maybe I've been there too. Maybe I can help. We could work together. I could rehabilitate you. You needn't be out there on the edge anymore. You needn't be alone. We don't have to kill each other.”

-- Batman: The Killing Joke (1988)

15) “Joker, you need to remember who you are, you just need to take my hand, and you'll remember your old life... [...] Joker! Take my hand! [...] We can beat this. Together.”

-- Batman/Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III (2019) #1

16) “I was afraid of what he'd do... when I was gone. [...] I wish he were still alive.”

-- Batman: Damned (2018) #3

17) “I made this wretch... I'll have to mind him.”

-- Batman: Lovers and Madmen (2007)

18) “Is he mirroring my broken psyche with his fake smile? Is the Joker... broken too?”

-- Batman (2016) #128 (I Am A Gun)

19) “If I beat you long enough, hard enough... You'll tell me.”

-- Action Comics (1938) #719

20) “I'm trying to figure out what the Joker was doing naked... does he always remove his clothes first?”

-- Detective Comics (2016) #1000

#the context for a lot of these makes them even more insane actually! #as in both quotes from TKJ and DitF take place AFTER Barbara and Jason are attacked. aaaanyway :) #asks #batman #bruce wayne #joker #batjokes #my comic panels #...kinda