#{ t: nightly wanderings }

[jennifer-jeong]

Smut | AFAB!Reader Somnophilia

SUMMARY He gets needy while you're sleeping but you don't mind

CONTENT NSFW, 18+, smut, fluff sprinkled in, consensual somno, nipple play, clit play, penetration, m and f orgasm, creampie, doggy, lots of kisses, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

WORD COUNT: 1848

GOJO SATORU, KAVEH, AVENTURINE, XAVIER, ASTARION Wanderer, Boothill, Dan Heng, Marius Von Hagen

It was one of those days where you immediately collapsed onto your bed when you got home, not even bothering to do your nightly routine before allowing sleep to wash over you. You quickly pulled off your top, bra, and pants to put on a random t-shirt you found on the ground, probably belonging to your boyfriend. You opted to just sleep in this and your panties. It was around 9 pm, the summer sun still finishing its setting, but you were so exhausted you figured you’d just sleep now and maybe get up early.

Around 11 pm, your boyfriend, after noticing you were asleep and getting ready for bed quietly, sneaked into your shared room to join you for a good night's rest.

He laid down to your right, looking at your cute sleeping figure. You were sleeping on your back, turned slightly to the right, peacefully slumbering.

He propped himself up on an elbow to give you some forehead kisses, using his free hand to caress your soft face.

Laying back down, he dug his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him, groaning as he exhaled and snaked his arm over your waist.

“Fuck.” He thought.

You always smelled good but why was it doing something to him right now?

Maybe it was that you were wearing his shirt, clearly without a bra. Maybe he was just extra pent up today. Maybe it was how your curves felt as his hand slowly rubbed up and down on your hips. Maybe it was that his hand was reaching up to your chest, rubbing at your nipples through the thin fabric. Maybe it was how your body still reacted so sensitively to him even while you slept, your sensitive buds already hardening under his touch.

He stopped for a second, feeling bad that he was doing this to you while you slept. Even though he knows that you two have already talked about this, and that you were actually very insistent that he was allowed to do something like this, he still hesitated.

After some more internal debate, he decided he’d just be gentle with you. His goal was to slowly wake you up and if you didn’t want to continue he’d apologize profusely, even though he knew you well enough to know that you definitely wouldn’t mind if he woke you up like this.

His hand returned to your body, slipping under the shirt you were wearing, feeling your smooth skin as it traveled up to your chest again. He kneaded your bare breasts, thumb playing with your still hardened nipple.

Somehow, his little internal debate and his decision to continue was making him even more hot and bothered. It was the fact that he thought so deeply about the situation and made himself deeply aware that he was doing this to your body without your conscious knowledge.

In any other situation, he’d feel wrong about this, but with the trust you two had in each other and with how long you’ve been dating, it was actually turning him on more. Knowing that you loved him enough to trust him with your body like this. Knowing that he’d let you do the same in a heartbeat. Knowing that you’d probably be as turned on as him right now if you were awake.

Fuck, you were so perfect for him.

He needed to show you how much he loved you and just how badly he needed you.

He sat up, kissing at your neck and collarbone as he made his way between your legs.

When he removed the covers from you, he noticed you were just wearing panties under. A cute pair of white lacy panties, they were a design that was comfy enough for you to have worn throughout the day but somehow you still made them look as sexy as lingerie to him.

He hooked a hand under your leg to position himself properly while his other hand pushed your shirt up above your chest to reveal your pretty tits to him. His hands then both went to roll your nipples between his thumb and finger before sliding down, admiring your waist, your curves. Your skin was so smooth it drove him crazy. At this point he was painfully hard and breathing heavy just from worshiping your body.

Maybe if you weren’t so exhausted, you would’ve woken up and told him to continue by now, but you really were fully knocked out.

His hands continued south, grabbing the top of your panties to pull them down and helping you take them off, taking note of the wonderfully filthy fact that strings of arousal connected you and the fabric together. The sight made him clench his jaw and also served as evidence that he should keep going.

He held your legs apart slightly, not wanting to force you to stretch too much. He lined his tip up with your folds, rubbing his pre cum in with your arousal before sinking his tip in. His mouth hung open as he watched where you two were connected with lidded eyes.

He fucked you with his tip a bit despite the fact that your body was already ready for more. You shifted in your sleep a bit and he let go of your legs to let you position yourself however you wanted. You turned more onto your right side so he started to hug your left leg as he eased more of himself into your gummy walls.

He was so fucking sensitive, the drag of his length on your slicked walls felt so fucking good. After a few more thrusts, he easily bottomed out in you. He cursed under his breath, thinking about how perfectly you fit around him, as if you were made just for each other.

He started a slow pace, fucking you slow, hoping to wake you up soon.

You started to stir, slowly regaining consciousness as he slowly thrusted into you. At the same time, you started to react to it more too. Quiet moans starting to slip out of your mouth which only encouraged him further. The wet sound of his length massaging in and out of your core added even more to his need for you right now.

Soon, you shifted more, now onto your stomach. He separated from you to let you get comfy, assuming you might still be asleep but hoping you were waking up a bit at least. He sat between your legs as you laid on your chest, he kneaded your ass and spread your folds to see your pretty self covered in arousal.

“Hmm…? Baby?” You slurred, sleep in your voice evident. You lifted your head slightly, eyes still closed, waiting for a response.

“Hey sweetheart, sorry to wake you up and to do this while you’re asleep-” he apologized before you cut him off with a displeased groan.

“Why are you apologizing baby?” You continued sleepily as you spread your legs further, pulling a pillow under your stomach to prop yourself up onto your knees, “keep going, feels s’good.”

“A-are you sure?” He questioned one last time.

“Mmhmm I’m sure baby, you know I like it,” you replied, laying your head back down to rest it on your arm, closing your eyes.

Your boyfriend exhaled shakily, leaning over your back to pepper kisses over your exposed skin, shirt still pulled up all the way. “So good to me,” he whispered into your skin as he eased himself back into your needy cunt.

You were insanely turned on at this point. Knowing that he initiated this and that your body was responding to him despite being unconscious was fucking hot. The fact that he needed you so badly but still made sure to check if you were okay with it made your head spin. God you loved this man.

He started to thrust into you slow, drawing long strokes where you could hear the slick slide of him going in and out so clearly. His jaw was slack, hands gripping your ass as he could barely keep himself upright on his knees from how good it felt.

He threw his head back as he started to speed up, the light “plap” sound filling the air and adding to your arousals.

Your brow furrowed as you started to moan into the pillow, slowly actually consciously perceiving the pleasure he was giving you.

“Y’fill me up s’good baby,” you hummed, breathing heavy.

“Fffuck… You’re such a good fucking girl f’me.” He replied, panting just as heavily as you. “Gonna make you feel good yeah? You deserve it.”

He leaned over you and snaked a hand around to rub at your neglected clit, wanting to at least attempt to make you feel as good as you were making him feel. But you were squeezing him so tight, he wasn’t sure if anything could feel better than this.

His free hand started playing with your tits, rolling and pinching at your sensitive nipples. You were still partially awake but the raw pleasure he was giving to you made you feel like you were dreaming. Him stimulating your tits, clit, g spot, stretching you out at the same time, and the delicious drag of him on your walls was dizzying.

He started to get more rough with his thrusts as he felt your pussy twitch around him, indicating you were getting closer, also bringing him closer to his high. Pure desire was taking over the man as the slapping of your skin together started getting louder, rhythm getting faster.

You could feel him twitching in you at this point as his small whines and groans started to turn into louder moans, his eyes turning into hearts, watching where you two were connected.

Your bliss plus your lingering exhaustion prevented you from forming a more proper sentence so all you could manage to tell him you wanted to finish together was “ngh… i-inside baby… please mmm- hhngg.”

Both of you tumble over the edge together as you clamp down on him as his body shakes, trying his best to ride out both of your highs. Waves of pleasure continue to rack both of your bodies as you moan in unison. He continues to give you light thrusts and toy with your clit as you both come down.

After overstimulating both of you for a few strokes, he pulls out to admire the cum dripping out of your twitching hole.

Sleep starts to take over him though so he quickly cleans the two of you up, fills your water bottle and jumps into bed.

He was going to whisper some sweet nothings to you about how much he loves you but you had already fallen fast asleep. But, it didn’t stop him from giving you lots of forehead kisses while holding you close to his chest and it didn’t stop you from nuzzling into his neck subconsciously. Both of you expressing yourself without needing words. You both slept very well that night.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[satinroses]

Night Time Routines

How the harbingers and their darlings ready for bed

Yan! Harbingers x reader (separate)

Feat: Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone and Scaramouche

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: “honk shoooo honk shoooo” - capitano, “zzzzz zzzz” - Pantalone, “honk mi mi mi” - Scaramouche, dottore’s doesn’t snore but he does speak in fluent sentences in his sleep and it’s terrifying. thank you for coming to my ted talk. also yes i made scaras pretty purple eyes light up like ei’s when she’s using her skill, the more raiden parallels the better in my opinion

Warnings: 5.3 archon quest spoilers, Yandere behaviours, i have likely not proof read this as well as i should have so i apologise for any mistakes, dark themes, some mentions of NSFW themes but no actual smut, being robbed of making choices, they all have serious control issues

Capitano:

Capitano has struggled with sleep for centuries now, he hopes you take no offence when he doesn’t join you at night however he would never wish to make you feel neglected. The primary reason he stole you away was to could ensure that you are treated with the dignity and adoration that befits someone of your character.

If your hair is long enough then he takes great care in braiding it every night. You’re surprised that a man of his stature is able to manoeuvre his fingers so nimbly through your hair. If braids aren’t your style or they simply wouldn’t work with your hair then he patiently awaits your instruction. Whether you want a bun, a ponytail or simply for your hair to flow freely he will diligently do as you command.

Although some aspects of your night routine may resemble that of Pantalone’s darling, Capitano doesn’t force you to abide by any particular routines. As long as you get enough rest he doesn’t mind if you spend every evening huddled in the library, just please allow him to sit with you as you read, nothing would bring him greater pleasure.

Despite the first harbinger being unable to sleep due to the constant burden of the tormented souls upon him, he does find comfort in the domesticity partaking in your nightly routines affords him. Watching your eyes flutter shut, hearing the words that slip out of your mouth leaving him to guess what you could possibly be dreaming about, watching over you when you are at your most defenceless.

He finds it utterly endearing to see you in this state. His heart feels much lighter the first night you fall asleep in his presence. He understands you may hold some resentment towards him for stealing you away from your home and the life you knew yet he is able to find hope in the vulnerability your behaviour shows. Being in your most docile and helpless form around him must surely mean you hold some form of trust for him. Trust is something he can work with, he’s certain now that he can cultivate this small piece of trust that you’ve extended to him from a sapling into a flourishing bloom and in time, perhaps you’ll forgive him for the selfish decision he made. He was utterly mindless and inconsiderate when he took you with him, against your will. Every day he lives with the shame of stealing you and yet... watching over you as you lay in his sheets, he cannot bring himself to regret it.

He shuts his eyes and listens to the rhythm of your breaths, a symphony that brings him nothing but relief. The knowledge that you were resting peacefully by his side invigorates him far more than slumber ever could.

After some time passes and he truly believes you are warming up to him in spite of everything, he might slip into your bed (with your permission of course). He’s unsure what to do at first, so overwhelmed with your closeness and warmth but as you begin to drift into a dreamscape, he allows his hands to wander slightly (but never anywhere inappropriate, despite how desperately he might crave your body he would never force you to do anything that might dishonour you). The body heat that emanates from you brings him immeasurable comfort as he forgets about the pain of the abyssal rot ravaging his body, instead focusing on the softness of your skin on his.

To feel you against him, your body tucked against his, it brings comfort that settles deep in his bones, not even the heavenly principles nor the curse that eats away at his flesh could strip it from him. For the first time in 500 years he remembers what its like to have a home.

Dottore:

You have the misfortune of having spent more time alone with Dottore than anyone else in Teyvat. In spite of his near constant presence, you had never once see him or any of his clones go to sleep. Once every few months you’ll catch him with his eyes shut and hunched over his desk, you assume he has finally drifted off but then mere seconds later his eyes will shoot open and his hands resume tinkering with whatever (or whoever) has had the misfortune of piquing his interest.

Prior to eliminating his clones he often used them as lab assistants, citing that the only person who he could trust to fulfil his work to the measure of perfection he demanded was himself. As the sun began to set whichever of his clones had the least to do would be charged with escorting you from his laboratory in the cellars of Zapolyarny palace to your shared estate. Much to Dottore’s annoyance, he swears that as the moon begins to rise, the segments begins to rush to finish their tasks in hopes of being the one to escort you home.

From early morning to night time you are forced to remain wherever Dottore is however he understands you are only human (for the time being, however he has plans to change that) and you require rest so he allows you to go home and sleep with the caveat that a segment remains by your side as he repeats a similar sentiment as he did earlier, that being the only man he would ever trust with your safety is himself.

Upon prime having to destroy the clones he is visibly on edge despite his dismissals when you try to enquire about it. It’s evident to you that without having the security of his segments watching over you he is tense. He now forbids you from going home, even with a platoon of Fatui guarding you, he has made far too many enemies to count over the years, he isn’t foolish enough to entrust your safety to some lackeys that even the eleventh could carve through with ease.

Much to your dismay he also states that he cannot take so much time away from his experiments to tend to your slumber and that from now on you will be sleeping in the laboratory.

It doesn’t take much exertion for his brilliant mind for him to deduce that you are not thrilled at this development.

After a few days of complaining he finally cracks. You seem to find a fault with every aspect of his laboratory.

”I’m uncomfortable”

”My back hurts”

”It’s too loud”

”It’s too bright”

”It’s too hot”

“It’s too cold”

”This pillow is lumpy”

”I can feel you staring at me”

It drives him mad. His next experiment will be on your voice, he has to test his hypothesis that there is something particular about your voice, perhaps it’s the tone or the pitch but whenever you speak he can’t help but grant you his full attention.

He prides himself on his resilience but for you he has always been quick to crack. Seeing you in such a bad mood puts him in a bad mood. Suddenly his patience has been shortened exponentially, the screams of his patients grind on his nerves far too quickly, leading to many experiments being cut short.

The following morning you will see two anemo skirmishers setting down a large object covered in a dust sheet in the far corner of the laboratory. You raise your question to Dottore, asking what it is. Only then does he set down his tools, a tiny smirk blooms across his face as he takes your hand in his and leads you across the room before lifting the sheet off the object and looking at you expectantly.

It was a single bed with plain white sheets and a single pillow. It was hardly exuberant but for Dottore to even show any form of regard for the discomfort of any living being was nothing short of a miracle.

If you ask him what prompted this his voice will grow venomous as he bites out that your endless complaints were a hindrance to his experiments but you see the self-satisfied sneer on his face as he soaks in your gratitude.

Admittedly you do still have to endure the screams of those unfortunate enough to end up strapped to the operating table as he refuses to allow you any form of noise cancellation lest he needs you for something (he never has but you’re sure he just doesn’t want to give you any avenues for ignoring him), at least you can keep your head staunchly under your pillow for whatever small form of muting the cries that it's able to provide.

Pantalone:

In spite of your resentment for Pantalone you could not deny the morbid interest you had in watching him go about his day. As an outsider you couldn’t shrug the pervasive feeling that had settled in your mind that his whole day seemed to be more of an elaborate routine rather than a man naturally progressing through the day.

Every paper, painting and plate had a specific place in his life and that was how Pantalone preferred it. One night at dinner you had made note of it and he had let out a rare chuckle as he gazed at you from across the grand mahogany dinner table. He put down his utensils before taking a moment to stare down at his hands, twisting the rings back into place so that the gemstones on them rested perfectly on his fingers, glimmering just right in the light before he acknowledged that perhaps some people might agree that he can be a little particular.

From the moment he had taken you into his home, he made sure that you too fit into his routine as flawlessly as everything else. He had expectations that you would meet if you knew what was good for you. Throughout the day his routine never once relaxed and as such, neither did yours. From the moment dinner ends he has you on a schedule that he had devoted hours to ensure it would allow you to fit into his schedule as perfectly as he wants you to. Like a ballerina wound up in a jewellery box, you would pirouette seamlessly to whichever melody he desired and you only move when he winds your cogs, never before.

Once you rise from the dinner table and he returns to his study, you are taken directly to your shared chambers with Pantalone by your ladies maids. In the porcelain tub within the en-suite sits a pool of hot water, still steaming with heat. Standing there awkwardly with only a silk robe wrapped around you as maids flutter in and out of the room. You stay rocking on the balls of your feet until at last the head maid returns, with her she carries a silver tray upon which rests several different bottles of fragrant oils and soaps to add to your bath.

Perhaps if you had been a little less perceptive you would believe this to be one of the areas in your life in which he allows some leniency but that is not the case. You are certain beyond all measure that each and every scent has gotten his approval before being presented to you. Maybe you should be thankful for this small illusion of choice but it only makes the reality of you situation sting in your tear ducts.

As you smell each one the head maid takes great enthusiasm in telling you the elaborate backstory for each and every bottle. Although its her voice speaking, you can hear his words.

The violet grass scent that had been acquired from the very highest point of Liyue’s immense mountain scape lending to it’s powdery floral notes being far more potent that before.

The sakura bloom oil had been extracted from a handful of petals that had been struck by the Shogun’s own divine lightning lending to it’s typical sweet smell having a bright undertone. You couldn’t stand that oil, you swore every time you applied it, it tingled.

The glaze Lilly that this oil had been diffused from had allegedly only bloomed when an adeptus descended from her abode in Jueyun Karst to serenade the flower and coaxing it into opening its petals. Supposedly its scent was so delicate and intoxicating that everyone who smelt it wept tears of joy. You didn’t think it smelt much different than any other glaze Lilly.

After a dozen more being presented to you, each with its own elaborate origins you simply grabbed the bottle closest to you on the tray, not caring which. They all smelt far too similar to care.

Since the day you were taken he had insisted that there was no price too high for his beloved. Perhaps he thinks you find his gifts romantic, instead you can’t help but laugh bitterly at the irony of your bathing products being better travelled than you are.

After nearly an hour of several maids scrubbing you from head to toe (when you had originally arrived you had refused their help however once Pantalone caught wind of this he had punished the maids for it. You had pleaded with him that it was your own fault for refusing their help and to please not punish them for your actions. He smiled gently, thanking you for your honesty before pressing a gently kiss to your forehead yet he said nothing about pardoning the maids, dismissing you at every mention of it. You had an entirely different group of maids tending to you the following morning and every subsequent morning after that).

After leaving the bath and drying off, you were dressed in a night gown. They were undoubtedly the worst part of the night, although they were beautiful they were also covered in itchy lace with necklines too deep and hems too short for the Snezhnayan winter.

After being dressed you would sit down at your vanity and methodically brush your hair with the gifts he had gotten you from Mondstadt: a boar bristle brush with a silver handle (he claimed the bristles were from a mighty bore sovereign native to Dragonspine) and a Dragon bone comb (he also had this made in Dragonspine, the bone acquired from the skeleton of Durin, the comb was a sturdy bone that no matter what always stayed warm).

Finally you would lie in bed and wait for your husband. If he decides to join you then you can slip gently into your dreams, the one place where you can forget about the heavy arm latched around your waist and the fingers tangled in your hair. On more unfortunate nights, he would not join you in your shared chambers, instead he would expect you to come to him. Shuffling sleepily through dark corridors until you finally reached the tall doors of his study. Your knuckle barely grazes the wood before the door swings open and he offers you a gentle smile before wrapping his arm around your waist and coaxing you in.

If you were lucky a few well-placed tender kisses to his neck would persuade him to abandon his work and join you in bed however some nights he would have you sat on his lap until the sun rose. Those nights you rarely slept well as you had to deal with his mutterings, the candle light illuminating the room and the way he adjusted you on his lap. If you were lucky you could shut your eyes and feign sleep when you felt something hard growing beneath you, other nights he was insistent on your participation.

Scaramouche:

Throughout the countless waking hours you’ve spent in unwilling solitude with the sixth harbinger you were hardly surprised at the revelation that his sour attitude persists far past the sunset and well into the moonlit hours. If anything his annoyance only grew the closer you crept to retiring for the night.

Having no knowledge of his marionette body’s ability to endure without sleep, you couldn’t disguise your discomfort the first night you shared his bed and his lilac eyes stayed glued to you all night, their vibrant hue glowing in the dark of your chambers. You could see the dim purple light in the room, even through your eyelids. His illuminated eyes wouldn’t move from your face as you rested. It doesn’t matter how often you late in the night you might wake up or how often you squint through your half-closed eyes at him, Scaramouche’s gaze stays fixed intently on you from the moment you pull the blankets over your shoulders.

Should you somehow develop a fondness for your captor you will quickly learn that in spite of his feelings for you, he is not an attentive or affectionate man. Scaramouche scoffs at the proposal of ‘cuddling’. He spits out that he will not entertain such pathetic displays of fondness, not even for you. The firm tenor in his voice makes you believe that there is no room for negotiation on the matter, however from that night onwards, his hand remains fixed tightly around your wrist the moment you retire under the covers with him.

One particularly irritating trait about Scaramouche is his insistence that you never turn away from him, many times your awoken by a set of firm hands clamped down on your shoulders as they turn you around in the bed, back to facing him. While you are both waking and sleeping he refuses to allow you to turn your back to him, you’re unsure as to why and frankly you’re not certain you wish to know. There are aspects of your captor's past that you're undoubtedly influence his current actions yet you do not wish to learn such things, not yet.

On exceptionally rare occasions, oftentimes after an intimate night of gently unwinding with him, removing his clothing with all the attentiveness he has expected to be synonymous with being the wife of the sixth harbinger. Brush your lips gently over his skin with a tenderness in your touch he hasn’t felt since… he can’t recall. After several hours in each others passionate embrace, Scaramouche may fall into a restless slumber. You may initially find this rare period of sleep from him to be enjoyable however it opens the gateway to a version of Scaramouche you may find yourself unfamiliar with.

The first night Scaramouche falls asleep in your presence, you soon understand his disdain for sleep. The whimpers and cries that escape the balladeer are completely uncharacteristic for him. You had never heard his voice assume any tone beyond a haughty drawl or an intimidating bark, you almost didn’t recognise it was Scaramouche speaking until a familiar word escaped his throat.

”Y/N...”

It was undoubtedly the balladeer speaking however his voice had been fragile and light as he spoke your name, as though saying it too harshly would cause it to shatter.

”Y/N… come back, please…”

“please...” he had whispered out and the word sounded almost foreign on his tongue. Until now you had assumed the word didn’t even exist in the harbingers vocabulary. His sleep only seemed to worsen. You sat up, unsure whether you should wake him or not. His gentle murmurs were slowly growing louder and more desperate. You watched as his sleeping form writhed across the bed, his arms fully extended as his fingers clenched and unclenched, grasping and pawing at the bedsheets.

You slowly nudged yourself closer to him, preparing to wake him from whatever nightmares was plaguing him until his hand brushed against your night clothes. Suddenly his fist clenched tightly around your waist as he yanked your body impossibly closer, curling around you.

The following morning he untangled his limbs from yours before quickly scurrying out of the room. His gaze never met yours but from the chaste kiss and the way his eyes refused to look up from the ground… you swore he almost seemed embarrassed, his demeanour suiting that of a pouting child rather than an agent of destruction.

As you opened the bedroom doors not long after his departure, the stench of sizzled flesh wafted through the corridors. Some poor Fatuus were now paying the price in blood for Scaramouche’s humiliation as they were demoted from subordinates to the punching bags for him to unleash his rage on. The part of himself that he had buried so deeply, shrouded in layer and layer of bitterness and rage, had exposed itself to your discerning gaze and his mortification was suffocating him.

If he were a weaker man perhaps the humiliation would have brought tears to his eyes but he was stronger than the mewling little wretch he used to be. Like forging a sword, he had beaten the impurities out one by one in the heat of his own hatred and the boiling of his blood until only the perfect blade remained. cold. lethal. merciless. He is no quivering weakling that can simply be thrown away. Not anymore. Never again. In spite of his pathetic display last night he would make certain you and everyone else remembers it.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Hii! May i request some headcanons were mt. lady, sir night eye, present mic, eraser and all might react to their s/o wearing their clothes after sex? Like if they didn’t have any clothes with them what weren’t… dirty so they stole some! Sorry if this is boring but I thought it was kinda cute :)

Hope you enjoy these, lovely!

Characters: Takeyama Yuu/Mount Lady, Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye, Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Contents: gn!reader, mild nsfw

Takeyama Yuu/Mount Lady

Perhaps it was an impromptu tryst, because you’re at Mount Lady’s apartment and your only clothes are dirty. Perhaps your stuff got torn up in a fight with a villain and now you’ve come back to hers to ‘celebrate’, you find yourself left with nothing but your underwear. Perhaps not even that. 

You could sleep naked, but it’s not the most comfortable situation to be in. So you wander over to Yuu’s wardrobe (really a walk-in closet). She might only be a debut hero, but she’s very popular and spends a lot of time in the limelight. This translates to making absolute bank, and she spends a lot of it on beautiful clothes. Obviously, you’re not going to wear a gala dress to bed, so you grab a t-shirt that looks pretty old, and maybe a pair of yoga pants. 

Depending on your size compared to her, they might be fine, or they might be a tight fit. When she comes back into the bedroom, her skin gleaming from her nightly skincare routine, she stops in the doorway and pouts at you.

“If you stretch those out, you’re going to have to replace them.”

“...says the woman who turns into a titan?” The irony is too much for you.

“Only my hero costume stretches with me, duh.” A pause. “Your butt does look good in those yoga pants, though.”

Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

It would seem that if you’re dating Sir Nighteye, you’ve at least got some sense of planning and responsibility. But you’re only human, and sometimes you’re going to find yourself caught short. Short on clothes, in this case. Even if your clothes are clean, you couldn’t fathom sleeping in your work clothes.

You wait until Sir Nighteye is in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, before sneaking open one of his drawers and grabbing something at random. You end up with…

A pair of boxers and a vintage All Might t-shirt.

It’s hardly the sexiest of nightwear, but you make it work. He leans back into the doorway to tell you to borrow some clothing, and you’re lounging on his bed, all “Paint me like one of your French girls”. 

“I’ve been waiting for you~” you purr.

He nearly spits out his mouthwash, and disappears back into the bathroom to gather himself. You distinctly hear him chuckle under his breath, then clear his throat.

“If you want to entice me, darling, don’t wear the face of my former boss on your torso.”

Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic

Hizashi’s always trying to get you to wear his clothes, anyway! He drapes his little moto jacket (the casual one, not the studded one he wears as part of his costume) over your shoulders a lot and tells you how great you look. 

Seeing his partner wear his clothes just gives him this little kick and makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

You’ve got a variety of options in Mic’s wardrobe. In the t-shirt section, you’ve got a lot of band t-shirts, weird, bright coloured ones covered in fruit or English slogans, a few rare Eraserhead merch t-shirts he got done to piss off Aizawa, and if you want to borrow some boxers, you’ll be hard pressed to find some that don’t have a loud, zany pattern on them. 

If you want to be (moderately) sexy, grab a vintage band t-shirt and a pair of his black boxer briefs. If you want to make him laugh, grab the stupidest t-shirt you can find and pair it with an eye watering set of boxer shorts, especially if they have bananas on them. 

Hizashi grins wide enough to split his face in half at the sight of you in his clothes. It doesn’t matter if you went for sexy or stupid, really, because he’ll just try to get you out of them again, if you know what I mean~

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

This is one of those things that Aizawa doesn’t know he likes until he sees it for the first time. He’s probably dragged himself out of your post-coital snooze to get you both some water or feed the stray cat on his balcony, leaving you to ponder your clothing situation. 

When you open Aizawa’s wardrobe, it’s 75% loose black shirts and pants, with a few non-black items crammed at one end, including those infamous pink sweatpants. 

It seems he’s not totally averse to colour, just not when he’s working. He has a few t-shirts (gifts from Hizashi) covered in cats (as opposed to just covered in cat hair, like the rest). 

If you’ve cuddled him at all, which you have, thoroughly, you know that all his clothes are surprisingly soft and comfortable. He tends to end up with raggedy cuffs on his sleeves, but even so, the shirt has that soft texture clothing gets when it’s been washed many times. You dig out some random black shorts he has, though you’ve never seen him expose his pasty legs in public, so they must be old.

Shouta shuffles back into the room to find you asleep, curled up in your borrowed finery. There’s something about the sight of you lying in his bed, wearing his clothes, looking so warm and comfortable. It’s like a little gut punch of domesticity. 

“You’re meant to ask, you brat,” he says fondly, flopping onto the bed next to you. 

Still, he reflects, as he pulls you closer, that shirt’s gonna smell like you now. Maybe he should make you wear it every time you sleep over.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

All Might’s still pretty nervous about being in a relationship so he’s not 100% sure of the protocol, especially when you’re at his place and you don’t have any clean clothes to wear to bed. He gets flustered and goes to see if he can quickly wash your clothes, forgetting the entire wardrobe of clean clothes right there.

All Might or Small Might, his clothes are going to absolutely drown you no matter what size you are. Toshi’s a titan. Any t-shirt you try to borrow is basically a giant nightshirt. 

Toshinori splutters a little at the sight of you swimming in the fabric of one of his shirts. Once he’s done coughing into his elbow, he offers you a toothy grin, his eyes crinkled up.

“That…might be a little big on you,” he says, tugging playfully on all the excess fabric. “Are you sure it’s going to be comfortable?”

You tell him that you like the feeling of the soft, loose fabric, and the fact that it smells a little like his cologne, even after being washed. He’s chuckles at that, wrapping his large hands around your waist, the fabric cinching in against you.

“Well, never thought one of my old shirts could look so adorable.”

[purple-obsidian]

show me (18+, dick grayson x fem reader) wc 1.1k

⭓ this post contains sexual content and is not suitable for minors.

"I'll never grow tired of this." Dick murmurs, brushing your hair away from your neck before placing a kiss against your flushed skin. The contact causes you to shiver, letting out a low moan while he rolls his hips into yours languidly.

You had been sleeping, snuggled up in the soft cotton that adorned Dick's bed, laying on your stomach with one of your legs kicked out to the side. He found you, breathing deep and even, arms wrapped around one of his plush pillows when he returned from his nightly prowl. When he turned on the dim light of the bedside lamp and saw your frame drowning in one of his t-shirts, nothing else keeping his eyes from wandering over your naked lower half, he couldn't help himself. Seeing you here, in his apartment, in his bed, so comfortable and at home…

That's what got you where you are now. Split open on his cock, manicured nails gripping the pillow and sheets, torso twisted a bit so you can look up at his deep blue eyes. The vigilante thrusts into your tight warmth from behind, murmuring against your neck as the sounds of sex fill the room.

"Dreaming about me?" He asks, slowly moving his hips in a steady pace that makes your toes curl. There's nowhere else this man would rather be, than here with you, inside of you, feeling parts of you meant for him and him alone.

"H-how did you-" You stammer out, getting cut off by his mouth that leaves the comfort of your neck to find your soft lips. His kiss is hungry, but not urgent. He's taking his time with you. Dick can tell that you're still fuzzy from your slumber. He loves you like this. All sleepy and slow, keeping his bed warm for him while he's out late into the night. So warm, your skin soft, and your body so welcoming. The little noises and whimpers you make cause his swollen cock to throb painfully inside of you. He nips at your lower lip briefly before pulling away to answer.

"You're soaked, princess." He explains with a low chuckle. "I'm the only one who can make you this wet. So tell me. Did you fall asleep touching yourself to the thought of me inside of you?" He snaps his hips into yours, enjoying your muffled reaction. "Or were you dreaming about me?"

Strong hands reach down to adjust your hips, allowing his arousal to collide with yours at a deeper angle, making your eyes flutter with each soft smack when he bottoms out. You rest your head on the pillow, and Dick lets more of his weight crush you against the plush bedding. You let out a sigh that morphs into a whimper, the feeling of him stretching your walls and molding you to fit him is divine.

"Answer me, baby. Tell me what's got you so wet for me." He moans out with a grunt. "So worked up," He leans his forehead against your hair and inhales the scent of your shampoo, putting just a little more force into his pace. "You're such a pretty little mess for me."

You rub your head against the pillow, squirming and groaning at the irresistible friction of his cock teasing your g-spot. "D-dream…" you finally mumble as you clutch the pillow tighter, arching your back to help him out. You lean into his warmth against the back of your head, craving his closeness, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts as your body becomes more awake.

Dick's mouth finds your neck once again, this time biting at your skin with a satisfied grunt. Knowing that you dream about him? Oh, that makes his already inflated ego soar. To be the one who plagues your subconscious, to be so desired by you that the waking hours of the day spent with him aren't enough, it makes his cock twitch and his pace falter briefly.

Your boyfriend stills himself for a moment, panting quietly as he tries to stay off his orgasm. "Tell me about it." His breath fans over the skin of your neck, wet from his saliva, the cool sensation sends tingles down your spine.

Its a demand. Not a question. He wants every detail, running his fingertips along your arm as he waits for you to respond.

The room is dark, and with his movements stopped, the only sound that can be heard is the soft patter of rain against the windows. You think for a moment, blushing into the pillow when you recall the filthy scenes that were dancing in your mind before he came home.

"I… i think…" You pivot your head a little to offer him better access to your neck, clenching around his length when you feel his warm hand grip your hip a little tighter. He craves any small sign of submission he can get from you. Its like a drug to him, one he's decided he cannot live without.

"Hm?" He grumbles, starting to move painfully slow, sliding even further into your body, eyeing the hickies appearing across your skin.

"…I'd rather show you." you whisper, gazing over your shoulder to try and find his eyes through your haze.

"Show me?" He repeats back with a sly smirk.

You bite your lip as the sensations he's giving you grow more intense. You nod your head, and mutter out a broken "Please?"

Dick's pupils dilate when he hears your plea. Fuck, he loves when you ask nice like that. "My princess wants to be on top? Is that it?" He asks, his tone almost teasing. But it doesn't bother you any. You know who you're dating.

"Will you let me?"

You genuinely aren't sure what his answer will be. Dick is always on top. That's where he's most at home, and he doesn't often want to deviate from his comfort zone. But the man is also head over heels for you, and you can't remember the last time he's told you 'no'.

You almost regret asking when you feel Dick shift his weight off of your body and pull out of your dripping pussy, leaving you feeling empty and aching. But when you see him shift to the side and lean his back against the pillows, hands behind his head and smug smile on his face, you feel your stomach flutter with butterflies.

Your eyes trail over his toned body, drinking in the sight of the man before you. He's strong, chiseled, handsome as hell, and most importantly, yours.

"Go on." Dick encourages you, his heart racing in anticipation, dark eyes swimming with excitement. "Show me."

⭓ masterlist ⭓

[whimsicalpolitical]

a request if I may… matty getting mad talking to someone on the phone and girlie is just watching him like😵‍💫😵‍💫 and he takes his frustration out on her😁

content warning: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, dirty talk, spanking,

this has been going on for a while now: matty walking back and forth through the room and getting more frustrated by the phone call.

“fucking christ,” matty says gritting his teeth, “what’s your fucking damage?”

you’re sitting at the edge of the bed, done with your nightly routine and only waiting for your pacing boyfriend now.

sleep is the last thing on your mind though.

twenty minutes torture. matty’s little rage act makes your thighs ache because you’ve been clenching them together the second he started to cuss and swear.

“that’s not what i’ve been saying bro, fucking listen.”

your eyes stay on the veins on his forearm when he’s running his hand through his hair, letting a groan slip out of his mouth.

you bite your lip watching him, feeling your panties dampen as his conversation continues.

“you can fuck off with that.”

you inhale sharply and matty hears. he thinks you’re annoyed because you wanted to go to sleep right before his phone rang.

he walks towards you and cups your cheek as he mouths a ‘sorry’.

“actually, i’ve got better things to do, mate. calm down, roll yourself a spliff and chill out, will do you good, i reckon.”

matty is still standing in front of you, so close to touch, to do anything you want to do to him. your hands sneak around his body to his back over his soft shirt.

“nah, have a nice one, i will not fucking continue this conversation. jesus, yeah, you too.”

matty slides his phone into his back pocket, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. the tension in his jaw doesn’t ease even as he exhales sharply, muttering something about “fucking tosser.”

“i’ve been a right twat tonight,” he says, his voice softer now, almost contrite. the furrow in his brow lingers, though, like he’s still half-lost in whatever argument just happened over the phone. “sorry it took so long.”

you swallow hard, suddenly hyperaware of how close he is. the space between you is barely there, his knees brushing yours where you’re perched on the edge of the bed. his t-shirt clings to him in all the right ways, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander.

you watch him for a moment, taking in the way his shoulders are still tight, his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s not looking at you directly, not yet, but the way his chest rises and falls in short bursts tells you he’s still got all that anger simmering under the surface.

“it’s alright,” you say softly, shaking your head. “but do you want to talk about it?”

his lips press into a thin line, and he tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment like he’s hoping it’ll swallow him whole. “no,” he says finally, voice flat. “you wanted to go to bed, yeah? you must be knackered now.”

you frown, your head tilting. “i’m not, though.”

he glances down at you then, his brow furrowing like he doesn’t quite believe you. “you should be,” he mutters.

you shake your head again, slower this time. “you should talk about it,” you murmur, reaching out to rest your hands on his forearms. your fingers skim over his skin, and his muscles twitch beneath your touch. “it’ll help. get it out of your head, and then maybe you won’t feel so mad.”

he snorts, shaking his head, his eyes darting away from yours. “what’s the point? won’t change anything. and, anyway, you shouldn’t have to deal with me when i’m like this.”

“i don’t mind,” you say, your voice gentle. your thumbs rub small circles against his arms, coaxing him to relax even just a little. “besides, it’s better than letting it fester. you’ll just drive yourself mental.”

he doesn’t respond right away, his gaze dropping to where your hands rest on him. his jaw tightens again, like he’s still debating it, still trying to work through it on his own. but you can feel the way his tension hasn’t eased, the way he’s holding himself so rigid, and you slide your hands up slowly, tracing over his chest now.

“or,” you say, your voice quieter, almost testing, “you could find another way to let it out.”

his eyes snap to yours at that, narrowing slightly. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, his tone sharp, defensive, like he’s daring you to say it.

your fingers spread out against his chest, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart under your palm. “it means,” you say slowly, your gaze not wavering from his, “you could do something to relieve that anger.”

his brow lifts slightly, and for a second, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. and then he scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “are you serious?”

“what?” you ask softly, your voice even, steady.

“were you—” he starts, breaking off with a disbelieving laugh before leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing. “were you getting off on that? me losing my shit?”

your face flushes hot, but you don’t pull your hands away. instead, your fingers curl into his shirt, gripping it lightly as you hold his gaze.

“not like that,” you say quickly, though your voice wavers just enough to make him raise an eyebrow.

“not like that,” he repeats, his tone skeptical. his hands come down to rest on your thighs, his grip firm but not harsh, and he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours. “go on, then. explain it to me.”

you swallow hard, your pulse quickening as his thumb brushes over your cheek. “matty, don’t—”

“don’t what?” he cuts you off. “don’t call you out on it? don’t notice the way you’ve been watching me like you want to devour me. i saw, love. the way you clenched your thighs together.”

you open your mouth to retort, but the words die on your tongue when his lips brush against your neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. his hands slide up your thighs, his fingers curling against the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“that’s dirty. thought you’re being a nice girl and you want to talk,” he scoffs, “instead you just want to be fucked.”

your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues kissing your neck and his hands wandering to your upper thighs.

“fuck, you’re warm,” he murmurs, his voice rough in your ear. “and so bloody worked up, is this what my little tantrum does to you?”

you let out a soft whimper, your hands gripping his shirt to ground yourself. “matty…”

“say it,” he demands, pulling back just enough to look at you. his pupils are blown, and his chest rises and falls heavily. “say you like it when I’m like this.”

you hesitate for a moment, but the way his hands tighten on your thighs has you caving. “i like it,” you admit in a shaky whisper. “i like it when you’re… like this.”

“knew it,” he mutters before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

the kiss is all-consuming, a perfect mix of frustration and desire. his hands wander freely now, sliding under your shirt to grip your waist. you gasp against his mouth when his teeth graze your bottom lip, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.

when he pulls back he shakes his head, “you want me to be rough?”

“yes,” you breathe out as fast as possible.

“christ. alright. lay down, get on the bed.”

you nod and scoot backwards, your eyes fixated on matty, who’s already pulling his shirt over his head.

he looks divine. black jeans with a belt and no shirt, his tattoos on full display for you drives you insane. you squirm a bit, waiting for his next move.

he’s taking your feet into his hand, rubbing your skin softly.

“darling, i need you to be absolutely sure and if you don’t fuck with anything i do, you need to tell me.”

“i swear, matty,” you say, offering him a warm smile.

“perfect.”

you watch his face as he carefully and slowly grabs at the fabric of your sleeping shorts, pulling them all the way down.

“gonna let me do what i want to you then?”

“yes.”

his hands find your hips, he's sliding down the bed, just enough so his head is level with your middle, he dips his head down and presses his lips to the soft flesh, his teeth sink into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, you involuntarily let out a soft moan.

he grips your hips more firmly, almost like you'll disappear before him if he doesn't, he moves his lips to your other hip and nips at your skin, "my fucking gorgeous girl, absolutely filthy for me," he says lowly, his breath hot against your skinz

you whimper softly as both of your hands find the nape of his neck. his mouth moves to the soft swell of your tummy and he nips at the supple skin right above your belly button.

he pulls away and peers up at you, eyes dark and full of lust, his mouth hovers over yours, "you drive me mental, you know that, love?" he whispers fervently against your lips, his fingers squeezing the meat of your thighs.

“i'm pretty crazy about you too, matty," you whisper, his cheeks flush pink at your words, still so bashful. he kisses the heel of your palm before patting the side of your thigh, "turn around for me darling, go on, all fours, need to see all of you," he smirks, his eyes full of intensity as they drag down your body.

you do as he asks and move to the middle of the bed, flipping onto your knees and walking your hands out in front of you, arching your back slightly and hiking your up ass in front of him, he moans at the sight.

"just like that," he praises softly behind you and your pussy throbs, a familiar sticky heat pools in your panties at his words. you playtully take a glance back at him, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he sits up and moves to his knees behind you, his hands run up the backs of your thighs all the way up until they meet the globe of your ass.

"look at you, so fuckin' perfect," he murmurs, oggling the curve of your ass as his index finger sneaks under the lace trim of your panties, taking the material between his forefinger and his thumb and lightly skimming his fingers down the lace, "jesus.”

matty scoffs, “s’kind of pathetic. drenching your little panties because i’m angry.”

his fingers roam down to your covered slit and you let out a soft gasp, which only spurs him on, he runs his fingers along the wet spot on your panties, smirking when he feels the wetness staining your panties, the tips of his fingers dip below your clothed slit,

"that’s my girl though, right? always so fuckin' wet for me.”

it should embarrass you, how easy you are for him but it doesn't because it's matty and knowing how much he revels in this, in you makes that small pinch of embarrassment fade away instantly...every single time.

you risk a look at him over your shoulder as he pulls his finger back out and in one swift movement he puts his finger between his lips, quickly sucking your arousal off his finger, like it's a mindless, habitual thing for him.

his hands reach for the waistband sitting on your hips, pulling the lacy fabric down, marveling at the dark fabric against your skin as he slowly drags the material down your thighs, his eyes catch the wetness soaking the lace while he pulls them down and he moans shamelessly.

“such a pretty cunt, darling.”

your eyes widen while you watch him bunch up the material and shove the lace in his back pocket and then his hand lands an affectionate smack to your ass, "eyes forward, i won’t say it again."

you tear your eyes away as he brings a firm hand to the small of your back, pressing you down and deepening the arch to his liking, you instinctively drop to your forearms- so pliant and needy for him-he brings his mouth down and sinks his teeth into the lush of your ass in approval.

“fucking christ,” he groans behind you, “you’re so easy. gonna let me do what i want to you just because you’re needy, pathetic.”

his hands grab your inner thighs, spreading your legs, now he has full sight of your glistening core, two thick fingers stroke through your folds.

"you’re a mess, darling, look at that- you’re dripping down your legs.”

his words make your cunt throb, you can't help the whine you let out, "matty, please."

matty laughs, “you’re a fucking beg. what do you want?”

"i need you, please do anything, please," you mewl, not caring how pathetic you sound.

but still, not enough for matty. a loud wet smack fills the room as he lays a firm slap to your cunt, your body flinches forward, the edges of your vision blurs and your aching, swollen cunt tingles and clenches at the harsh, yet welcomed contact.

he tuts, "that’s it? you need to try better than that, love. beg for it.”

"matty please, i want your cock. i want it," you whine and writhe beneath his firm palm.

"see? s’all i’ve wanted to hear," he cooes, his slick-coated fingers now soothing your folds. “wouldn’t be fun though if we already skipped to the best part, would it?”

he shifts behind you, sliding down off the bed, kneeling on the floor, he pulls you back towards the edge of the bed by your thighs. he tilts his head up just enough to dig his teeth into the meat of your upper thigh, just below the curve of your ass cheek and soothes the sting with a wet kiss.

you shiver, you're aching for him and his mouth is everywhere except for where you need him to be.

“stop writhing around like a needy slut,” he spits out, “you don’t want me to stop immediately, right?”

“no, no, sorry.” you plead, closing your eyes.

matty’s hands come up to grab the meat of your ass, spreading you open and gently pushing you forward for better access, he brings his mouth to hungrily kiss your inner thighs, tasting the sweet, sticky slick coating your skin and a pitiful moan slips from your lips.

“mhm, perfect.”

matty seems to have heard it and that's all it takes for his lips to make contact with your pussy, your breath hitches in your throat as he flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow swipe through your slicked folds, the first one always drawn out and meticulous and just for him.

“oh f-fuck.” you moan.

a pressure already begins to pull taut low in your belly, you're squirming in his grasp but his hands move to firmly grip your outer thighs, keeping you open for him and pressed flush against his eager mouth. he fucking laves at you, devouring and savouring you like he'd never get the chance again.

“such a perfect one, yeah. my favorite taste.”

the vibrations from occasional muffled moans and groans against your pussy make you chant his name over and over like a prayer, even though he's the one on his knees.

“jesus matty," you moan out, your eyes roll back into your head as the coil inside your belly wounds up so tight every muscle in your body tenses. you start grinding your hips back into his face, he groans in response and loosens his grip on your legs, letting you take what you need from him.

it takes a moment to come down from your high, matty not being a help at all with the same pace he has on your clit.

he flattens his tongue against your clit before he closes his lips around it, suckling it into his mouth and moaning around it, the vibrations from his mouth makes the coil in your belly snap, and you cry out, using the sheets beneath you to stifle the noises slipping through your lips.

“fucking god,” you moan, “matty- can’t.”

matty hums a “you can,” and immediately latches on again.

the tip of his tongue works small, tight circles on your clit around and around, only this time with more pressure than before and within minutes or seconds-you don't really know at this point-you feel the pressure building in your belly and it's growing stronger by every lick and suck from his mouth. his tongue flicks over your clit before he licks it into his mouth once more, closing his lips tightly, he gives it one last tight circle of his tongue and suckle to your clit and you break, your second orgasm crashes over you.

“matty,” you moan over and over again, your brain completely empty with thoughts.

a choked moan escapes you, your legs quiver as they threaten to close while your hands fist the sheets beside your head, the grip he has on your thighs holds you open for him while you come all over his mouth and he laps you up, savoring, slurping, and swallowing down everything you give him.

“fucks sake,” he groans, “perfect cunt.”

milliseconds pass and he shifts behind you, lost in the haze of your orgasm, you can faintly hear ruffling as he stands up. he leans forward, kneading your ass in his palms before bending down to lay another bite on your other cheek, this time with more fervor, leaving a mark, your skin tingles.

matty’s hand is on him, stroking himself slowly, while his other hand is touching your body.

“just a little toy for me, aren’t you, darling?” he asks, not expecting an answer, “gonna let me fuck you?”

matty positions himself right against your ass and places his hands on your hips again and squeezes, “talk to me.”

"not like this,” you whine, not daring to look back, “wanna see you.”

“aww,” matty pouts, “you’ve got too many wishes, you know?”

nevertheless he grips your thighs and turns you around so you’re on your back. you’re eyes are staring at him but it seems like you’re not there, your brain feels hazy.

“you’re alright, love,” matty says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

you can only whine and grip the nape of his neck to receive a proper kiss.

“needy girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you a kiss, licking over your bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth.

your sounds are swallowed by his mouth as he keeps kissing you, grinding himself against your thigh.

“can-please,” you whine, stretching your arm out to find his cock, which is already leaking with pre cum.

matty lets out a quiet groan, you can't help but smile at this as you start to rub him between your legs, grabbing his attention back onto the task at hand.

“didn’t say you could touch me, love,” he grits out, “s’like you can’t get enough.”

“i can’t,” you smile, tugging at his hair, “can you please fuck me.”

you’re desperate. how could you not be with matty between your legs, right there.

matty slides inside of you roughly, not slow and steady, not giving you any time to adjust, he’s using you.

“fuck, this what you wanted?” he asks as his eyelids flutter closed.

he’s got one of your thighs in his grasp and he's pushing it up against your ribs as he begins a steady pace with his hips against yours. there’s strings of your slick attached to his upper thighs from your inner legs rubbing against him.

matty notices immediately, “fucking christ, you’re making such a mess, s’heavenly.”

“matty,” you moan, “you- s’perfect.”

“yeah?”

matty brings his right hand back down to continue flicking your clit back and forth with his wet fingers.

you bite down on his shoulder. your propped up foot thuds softly against his back as the other one grips onto the sheets.

"feel nice?" matty asks into your hair as you bite down onto him, “fucking enjoy yourself?”

“feel so perfect," you whine against him. "jesus, so good,” you slur.

his weight is pushing you down so you can't wiggle away from any of the stimulation he's giving you. it accumulates quickly and, just laying there and taking it, you don't get enough time to warn him you're close.

you’re clenching around him uncontrollably, rolling your eyes back and clawing your nails into his shoulder blades.

“let me have it, come on,” he groans, rutting into you as deep as before, “come for me.”

he fucks you harder, his pace frantic. "such a perfect cunt, darling." he groans, dipping his head into your neck to nip at your skin. “my gorgeous girl."

"oh, god, matty..." you cry, your orgasm quickly approaching, unable to stop it no matter how much you want to prolong the feeling.

it doesn't take long before your orgasm crashes over you, pulsing through you in waves, back arching off the bed as you reach out for anything to ground yourself. hands finding the back of his head, pulling him into your chest.

“just like that, perfect, darling.”

he follows soon after, his cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself into you, collapsing on top of you, his chest heaving.

“fuck,” he exhales, moving one more slow time again to torture the both of you.

you’re overstimulated, your legs hurting so good there are tears prickling in your eyes. you brush your hands over matty’s shoulders and back, humming as you try to love on him.

“you still angry?” you ask, smiling to yourself.

matty groans when he lifts his head to look at you, stealing a quick kiss, “nah. unless you want me to be,” he jokes.

“give me a break,” you giggle.

“i love you, darling,” he murmurs, sliding out of you, hissing at the cold air.

you scrunch up your nose in pain, your ass, thighs and the skin between your legs hurting real good.

“i’ll draw you a bath, don’t worry, love.”

you enjoy this the most. matty being the sweet boy you’ve known forever, his only mission to take care of you.

[serialkilluh1996]

𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘 ™

König x female-reader; sfw

involuntary intox/drugging

You're laying in bed, fresh out of the shower. You've lathered your skin in baby oil, and your silk lace dress clings loosely to your rejuvenated figure. Staring vacantly at the mesmerizing ceiling fan, your mind begins to wander off.

König, sleepy thing he is, puts a single knee into the bed. A loud creak followed by the mattress sinking in brings a smile to your face. You couldn't help it. This sweet boy was gonna break the frame.

It's not often you see him like this, no gear, no mask, just a t-shirt and some loose draw string sweatpants. He's got a disconnected look on his face, void of any emotion beside exhaustion. He's just so tired. Too tired to care about anything. You can tell from the way he lets his entire 200-pound weight flop onto the bed. It wasn't much surprise to you, though. You knew slipping that powder into his coffee would do the trick.

And on impact, he was out like a light. This was a nightly routine of yours. He'd come home around eight o' clock, and you'd fix him that cup of coffee. He'd look so grateful for it too; standing there with that frustrated gaze, muscles burned out from work, running purely on adrenaline he'd built up just from trying to get things done. Then there was that first sip, turning into a full-on gulp as he began to unknowingly intoxicate himself.

He was usually a very quiet drinker, but that changed when it came to your little elixir. A mere sip would not satisfy the masochistic pleasure of feeling the hot sugary liquid burn his throat, melting away any mucus latched on. Within minutes, it'd would look as if his eyelids were working overtime. You run your hand along his jawline, planting your lips on his forehead.

[exactlycleverpirate]

Timeline from Xavier's Perspective Part 2

EDIT: Updated with some new information and some adjustments.

(Includes spoilers for basically everything, including all myths.)

This is an update of my earlier post. See Part 1 here.

Timeline from Xavier's perspective (Part 2/Earth):

Timejump.

?1248 (“It’s been 800 years!”)? Sometime in a past life, Rafayel and MC were lovers. (Is this when MC was trapped on the Island of Songs in a hut by herself, doomed to someday drown and Rafayel comes, gives her his heart and saves her?) Then she is cursed and turned into a Sea Witch in the Abyssal Rift. She has no memory of Rafayel or being human. Rafayel exchanges his scale, eternal blood, and a shell with his voice in order to turn MC human and restore her memories. Then he turns to sea foam. (Fragrant Dream.) (This could all be an actual dream or allusion that never happen or hasn't happened yet. However, this could be when Rafayel gifted MC one of his scales and formed the bond between them.)

2018 Xavier checks out a book in the library that MC will check out 30 years later. (An 

1834 AD Xavier, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Noah (Likely actually Jeremiah, due to translation error), and others stranded on Earth. (This timing comes from a promotional video where Xavier says he has been on Earth for 214 years.) (Part of a team called the Backtrackers. Were on a Backtrack mission when something went wrong in the Deepspace tunnel.)

Appointment)

2021 Zayne born Sept 5th.

2024 (...probably) Rafayel born March 6th

2025 The year Xavier claims he was born, on Oct 16th.

2026-2027 MC born. (This age comes from chapter 5.1. The letter she gets from Grandma says she was 7-8 when they started experimenting on her, and she was adopted by Grandma after the Chronorift Catastrophe in 2034.)

Child Rafayel likes escaping to explore the ocean. On one or more of these excursions, he sees a lantern festival and puts out their lanterns. (Ocean At Night)

2032 Xavier joins Arthur's police team. (Anecdote 2)

2033 That winter, Noah (Likely actually Jeremiah, due to translation error) contacts Xavier for information to make a new identity. Noah mentions wanting to be an ordinary person in this timeline and that he fell in love. Xavier fakes his death as a police officer and encounters a lost little girl with a bunny plushie. Fights Isaiah in Linkon city in a fight that makes the whole city go dark. He disguises this by making it look like there is a meteor shower. (Anecdote 2)

2034 Deepspace tunnel appears and Chronorift Catastrophe (timespace anomaly in Linkon city). MC is 7-8, taken in by Grandma. Caleb is also adopted by Grandma. 12 year old Zayne loses control of his Evol at the end of summer and has a nightmare about the Grim Reaper for the first time. Rafayel would be 10 at this time. Xavier appears as Lumiere for the first time, kills the first Wanderer in the Chronorift Catastrophe and saves MC. On December 31st, Lemurian ruins are discovered, after a tsunami southeast of Linkon city, when a rift opens up and reveals it. Her grandma participates in experiments to fuse a human heart and a protocore. At some point, MC's heart is fused with an Aether core. Onichynus and Dr. Noah are both somehow linked to these experiments. Her first heart doctor is Dr. Noah.

At some point in MC and Rafayel's childhood, Rafayel visits the surface world but gets trapped on the beach on his return trip (on Ebb Day?) (Perhaps during her field trip to Hat Island?) She saves him and they make a pinkie promise. Rafayel says if she doesn't return, he will chase her to the ends of the earth. (Nightly Stroll)

Child Rafayel is given a Whale Call as a means of protection, in case something happens on one of his escapes from Lemuria. However, he never uses it, because he never escapes again after this, and sometime later he buries it in the Lemurian city. (Whalefall Lament)

Child Rafayel is tricked and his people slaughtered. Some survivors go into hiding living on land among humans, including his Aunt Talia and K. (Anecdote 3)

Sometime before 2038, MC goes on a field trip to Hat Island (possibly when she meets Rafayel?).

2035 Zayne (age 14) begins medical school at Skywalk University, spends 6 years in med school program. (It normally takes 8.) (From his biography on the hospital wall.)

2043 Zayne (age 22) graduates from medical school. Goes on a mission to the Arctic where he is forced to mercy kill his mission leader who is being consumed by some sort of ice (Anecdote 2). Begins work at Linkon Central Hospital. (From his biography on the hospital wall.)

Rafayel's Anecdote 3 immediately precedes Anecdote 2 (See 2044-2047). Rafayel is singing in the opera and seeking revenge overseas in Verona under the name Mo. He is being investigated by a private detective named Louis. He is not painting at this time. His Aunt Talia is also in Verona. He attends a Seamoon Ceremony for a fellow Lemurian survivor, K. Lemurians are hiding amongst humanity, but being hunted, tortured, harvested for their scales and blood and killed. Rafayel then moves to Linkon city and resumes painting again. He has a photo of MC in his pocket. (Anecdote 3).

Sometime between 2043-2045 MC (17-18) begins attending University of Linkon. (School year usually begins in September.)

2043-2047 Rafayel's Anecdote 2 takes place sometime in this timeframe while MC is at University of Lincoln. That summer, his painting Illusion projects him into the spotlight as a popular artist. In late summer, he becomes a lecturer at University of Linkon. He receives information on her from someone at the Nest. He believes there are “predators'' surrounding her, some of whom may be trying to use her to trap him, so he is wary about approaching her. He burns the photos and information the man who investigated her collects about her. He describes his feelings toward her as painful and addictive, thinking he is ready to spend the rest of his days with her, but also wants to settle the score between them. (Anecdote 2). Thomas becomes Rafayel’s agent. (Anecdote 1).

2045 Xavier meets Arthur at his tombstone. (Anecdote 2)

2046 Zayne makes a groundbreaking discovery about the effects of the Evol gene on heart development. (From the AKSO hospital article about him). He receives the Starcatcher and Linde Awards. (From his biography on the hospital wall.)

2047-2048 MC graduates. (School year usually ends June-July)

2048 Pregame: Zayne becomes chief surgeon. Zayne becomes MC's doctor 6 months before the story begins (in July of 2048, making 6 months prior the month of January) (Dr. Dean/Noah was her doctor before him). Also 6 months before the story begins, Raymond begins exhibiting symptoms of mental confusion and other abnormal behavior. At the start of the year, (per Main Story chpt 2.6) Rafayel returns to the country from overseas. He is known for spending six months painting in his studio, then traveling the world for inspiration/materials for the other 6 months. The month before the main story, Rafayel's art broke the record for the highest selling art at Lizio Auctions. Raymond buys a painting from Rafayel's gallery.

2048 Story begins Wednesday, July 1st (most likely), with MC being initiated as a Hunter in the Hunter's Association. MC is about 21-22, and her Evol has to do with Resonance, Anhaunsen Class. Rafayel is 24, Fire Evol. Zayne is 27, Ice Evol. Xavier claims to be 23, Light Evol. Traceback II is approaching the event horizon and entering the black hole.

See Love and Deepspace: the Story So Far Part 1.

Sometime in the future, after the destruction of Linkon but before the destruction of Earth, Grim Reaper Zayne lives, killing humans turned Wanderer and dreaming of a life as a doctor with the woman he loves. (Anecdote 3)

Part 1 and 2 in this timeline continue in a loop perpetually?

[deafeningladyruins]

Carnival of Shadows

4: The Duality

The morning after the storm, she woke to the sound of birds chirping and sunlight filtering through the tattered fabric of the tent. For a moment, she felt a disorienting sense of peace, as if the darkness had been a mere dream. But as she turned her head, she saw Art the Clown sitting nearby, his eyes closed as if in a trance. She rose quietly, not wanting to disturb him. Stepping outside, she inhaled the fresh, damp air, the carnival looking almost serene in the morning light. It was a stark contrast to the eerie atmosphere of the night, and she marveled at the duality of this place that seemed to mirror her own troubled mind.

As she walked through the carnival, she reflected on the previous night. Art's silent companionship had provided a strange comfort she had never felt before. Her thoughts were interrupted by a faint rustling sound. She turned to find Art standing in the doorway of the tent, watching her intently.

"Good morning," she said softly, unsure if he could hear her. "I didn't want to wake you."

Art tilted his head, his smile ever-present. He beckoned her to follow him, and she found herself intrigued by the promise of discovering more about him. They wandered through the carnival, Art leading her to a neglected garden overrun with wildflowers and weeds. It was a hidden oasis, a place of unexpected beauty amidst the decay.

"How did you find this place?" she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

Art didn't respond, but his gesture encompassed the entire garden. He then motioned for her to sit on a crumbling stone bench. She obliged, and Art began to gather some of the wildflowers, creating a bouquet with surprising skill and care. He handed it to her, and she smiled, touched by the unexpected gesture.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I never knew you could be so gentle."

Art's eyes softened, and for a moment, she glimpsed the person behind the grotesque facade. It was a fleeting moment, but it spoke volumes about the duality of his nature—his capacity for both horror and tenderness. As the days turned into weeks, they continued their nightly meetings at the carnival. She began to see more of Art's dual nature. During the day, he would show her the hidden beauty of the carnival, teaching her to see the world through his eyes. At night, he became her guardian, warding off the demons that tormented her mind.

One evening, while exploring a forgotten funhouse, she stumbled upon an old trunk filled with costumes and props. She laughed, pulling out a feathered mask and twirling around, feeling a rare moment of joy. Art watched her with amusement, then picked up a top hat and placed it on his head, joining her in the impromptu performance.

"You're not so scary when you're having fun," she teased, her laughter echoing through the funhouse.

Art's silent laugh was infectious, and they spent the evening playing dress-up, momentarily forgetting the darkness that surrounded them. It was in these moments of light-heartedness that she saw the true depth of their bond. They were two souls navigating a world that had cast them aside, finding solace in each other's company. As the night deepened, they sat side by side on a rusted merry-go-round, watching the stars twinkle above. She leaned her head on Art's shoulder, feeling a warmth that had been absent from her life for so long.

"Art," she began hesitantly, "do you ever wish things were different? That we didn't have to hide in the shadows?"

Art turned to face her, his eyes reflecting a sadness she hadn't seen before. He reached out and gently cupped her cheek, his touch conveying the words he couldn't speak. In that silent exchange, she understood that while they could not change their pasts, they could find a semblance of peace in each other. As they sat there, entwined in the darkness, she felt a renewed sense of hope. Their world was far from perfect, but it was theirs—a realm where the light and dark coexisted, just as they did. It was a place where they could be themselves, free from judgment and fear.

One night, Art decided to surprise her with a special outing. He led her to a part of the carnival she had never seen before, where the rides were still functional, albeit in a state of disrepair. With a flourish, he presented her with a ticket, and she couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"Are we really going to have a date at the carnival?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Art nodded, his smile widening. He took her hand and led her to the first ride—a creaky old Ferris wheel. As they ascended, she felt a rush of exhilaration, the world below shrinking into insignificance. They rode the Ferris wheel, the carousel, and even the bumper cars, laughing and enjoying each moment as if they were carefree children. Art went out of his way to ensure she had fun, his antics bringing a smile to her face at every turn. He won her a stuffed animal at one of the game stalls, his silent determination endearing him to her even more. As the night wore on, they found themselves back at the Ferris wheel, the lights of the carnival casting a magical glow around them.

As they reached the top, she turned to Art, her heart full of gratitude and affection. "Thank you, Art. This has been the best night of my life."

Art's eyes softened, and he leaned in closer, his face inches from hers. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the anticipation building. Slowly, he closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in a tender, lingering kiss. It was a moment of pure connection, a silent promise of the bond they shared.

As the Ferris wheel descended, she knew that their love, though unconventional and shrouded in darkness, was real. They had found each other in the most unlikely of places, and together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead.

---

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Follow me for more Art the clown

[limitbreaker23]

Asking for a petal bath and training in rain pretty please 🥺

I had some time this morning, so sure! A bit of chengzhan bath-and-training-in-the-rain silliness that was a happy distraction for me!🥹I miss otp horribly!

Chengzhan, a bit t-rated, sometime around Sunshot gap ...

Heavy rainfall streaked the windows. Paper was bending under the weight of water, the drumming sound comforting and distracting at once. Lan Zhan watched the shadow play of rain and candlelight on his windows from the soothing warmth of his bath. Steam was still rising from the water. It had been too hot on his frozen skin, and he had welcomed the feeling instead of telling the servants to adjust the temperature. His skin paid the price with a fading redness below the water’s surface.

He was happy enough for a warm bath to clean dirt, mud, and weariness from battle. He had no thought to give to heat, barely even one for the unnecessary bowl of petals and scented scrubs the servants had placed next to the tub. He didn’t need them, found no use in them, and only felt heat in his face whenever he glanced at the red and pink petals, soft to touch when you brushed through them, touched them even for a quick, haunting moment that lingered on your skin.

A bath’s purpose was to clean the body, relax the mind, not to soften the skin with flowery fragrances.

He wondered why so many people felt the need to give him flowers, whole or broken apart.

He wondered why he wondered that instead of focusing his wandering mind.

Beyond the rain-streaked window, the distracting shadow play was disrupted. A flash of darkness broke through it to the sound of metal cutting through air. The hour was late, the fighting long left behind, and still the melody of swords seemed to have followed them here to safety.

Lan Zhan pulled the window open, ready to jump into the nightly rain, grab his sword from where it was lying next to the petals and scatter them to attack the intruders – but no one was fighting in the courtyard. No enemies, no pursuers, no disciples at odds with each other.

Just Jiang Cheng. Clan Leader Jiang. Alone in the rain, the small shielded courtyard behind the secluded houses forced into his personal training ground. The shadows of the night shrouded his figure, veiled him into a false sense of solitude as he slashed his sword through the pouring rain as if he was cutting through their enemies.

Lan Zhan caught sight of his face. Disgruntled, angry. Enraged by careless words exchanged over his head when he expected to be addressed. The early days of leadership came with many hardships, even for those that had their elders’ guidance to follow. Which Jiang Cheng had not. Yunmeng-Jiang was slaughtered, his sister safe, his senior brother lost, and all Jiang Cheng had lately was anger to vent within a storm.

Understandable. Preferable, to hide it in the shadows of the courtyard, to voice it where the rain could drown it, and to leave it here. Wrong to watch him and invade his anger. Inappropriate.

Lan Zhan nudged the window once more, the gap to outside growing wider, the view clearer. Acceptable form.

Jiang Cheng fought rain and wind as fiercely as their enemies. Sandu’s polished blade cut at a slanted angle through raindrops, slicing them apart, and he turned in a whirlwind of spraying water. Casually twisted his sword and changed the blade’s angle, caught the broken waterdrops on the polished metal where they seemed to rest for a moment, carried forward as Jiang Cheng turned, and thrown into the wind with the strength of piercing arrows.

Quite acceptable form.

On Jiang Cheng’s back, rain and sweat mingled into a distracting shine. In spite of the cold, and to fight the heat of training and anger, he had pulled the upper layers of his robes down, allowing them to fall over his belt and tied back by his sleeves. His bare back and chest were exposed, the tension in his arms moving over shoulders and biceps with every twist and turn of his blade. Streaks of rain and lost candlelight danced over his muscles.

Lan Zhan shifted in the tub, turned slightly to support his arms on the windowsill and watch, study. Linger, almost involuntarily, as if mesmerised by movements he had witnessed so many times lately. The water in the bath was hot, increasingly warmer, and the drops of rain sneaking through the open window cooled his face, the wind carried his breath outside like thin mist. Water tickled his tight skin, sneaking along a trail of goosebumps as he watched Jiang Cheng’s flesh and skin and muscles tense and relax with every move.

He forced his eyes back to Sandu, focused stubbornly on the blade that shifted and turned on Jiang Cheng’s palm as he jumped in a sharp angle through the air, slashed the sword around and followed with his clenched fist. The gleam of spiritual energy in Zidian gleamed in the darkness. Purple sparks danced around Jiang Cheng’s tense knuckles like the first threat of lightning. Of a storm. They never formed the lightning whip. Only the sparking light danced over the lines of defined muscles in his arm, shoulder, back as he whirled around once more, sharper than his sword.

The gleam of purple was fiercest in Jiang Cheng’s dark eyes, reflected in them as if they had sparked from within that darkness. Almond-shaped eyes, dark, narrowed under his tight brow, suddenly widening. Piercing into Lan Zhan. Catching him.

Jiang Cheng stopped mid-turn. His soles tore the wet ground open in a splash of mud as he forced himself to a halt, and Sandu’s tip pointed straight at Lan Zhan, softer than the shocked eyes of its owner. His shocked gasp echoed through the courtyard.

Lan Zhan was often praised for his calm and quiet nature. When he slammed the window shut, he could hear his uncle’s disapproving grunt within his mind. Drowned quickly by the sound of splashing water as he slipped and turned clumsily in the tub as he tried to leave, move, escape, run away. He grabbed the edge for support, grabbed the shelf with bathing inessentials and petals instead, and spilled them into the water as he slipped below the surface entirely.

With his hair wet and dishevelled, he pulled himself up again, face burning from something else than hot water. Nothing warmed better than humiliation and shame. Even cold springs turned into hauntingly searing pain. He could add the rain to the mountain of embarrassing memories now.

Sadly, drowning himself was never an option. He should not have watched, and now he needed to pay the price with his dignity.

Through the closed window, he was unable to see if Sandu approached to stab him through wood and paper screens. Perhaps Jiang Cheng gave no thought to wandering gazes. Perhaps a leader even this young had no time to spare for juvenile shame.

The doors flew open with a loud bang. Footsteps stomped towards him.

“Lan Wangji!”

Still shocked, still too hot and caught off guard, Lan Zhan snatched the towel sheet from the edge of the tub and pulled it over his naked body in a thumping heartbeat before Jiang Cheng stormed around the folding screen.

Furious, red from his bare chest to his face, and clutching his unsheathed sword so hard that it trembled, Jiang Cheng opened his mouth – only to blink in confusion, distracted by something. His eyes, piercing under his tight frown, quickly glanced at the bathwater, at the petals soaking in it, red and pink and unnecessary and stuck in the completely soaked towel that was draped over Lan Zhan’s legs and chest to cover his naked body half-heartedly.

Jiang Cheng blushed. He sheathed his sword noisily and pointed at the water, cleared his throat. “And you judge me?”

Lan Zhan felt the boiling need to justify himself for a few petals of no importance, when it made no and would never make a difference to give this person or anyone an explanation. “I was not judging, merely watching.”

Jiang Cheng made a strained face as if that was even worse. His hair had come loose from the rain and training. Thick, wet strands were hanging in his face, shifting when he huffed full of discontent. He flipped them out of his face and stepped closer.

“Much the same, isn’t it? That you didn’t judge me right now doesn’t mean you won’t waste your time remembering my stumbling soon and chuckle to yourself, hm?” Jiang Cheng stopped at the edge of the tub, shoulders straight and chin lifted to look down at Lan Zhan, unable to hide behind anything other than a wet towel in the clear bathwater.

Lan Zhan could have told him that there was little need to watch him training for the time an incense stick burnt to remember his movements. They had studied together, they travelled together, they fought together. He knew when to dodge because Jiang Cheng growled right before he slashed his lightning whip around. He knew that he preferred to turn right to hit and left to evade. He did remember all of this.

There was no need to linger on Jiang Cheng moving with exposed skin through the rain. Unnecessary. Quite.

He had wasted only his own time. Even when his mind already desired to wander back to the sight in his memories.

“Go on,” Jiang Cheng said in a low, rasping whisper as if he was cutting Lan Zhan’s thoughts short. “Tell me what to improve, Second Young Master Lan. Tell me that I slipped too far to the side when I turned on the wet grass. Advise me how to keep my sword steadier when my hands are wet. Go on, lecture me.”

Lan Zhan clutched the wet towel over his chest, shifted his legs and pulled them up to hide himself, the soaked fabric stuck between them now. Too little cover. Too exposed. Those eyes pierced into his face, uninterested, unbothered, not caring. A blink, a quick glance, and narrowed again with sudden anger as if Lan Zhan had forcefully distracted him with his naked skin.

“I have no advice,” Lan Zhan said, ignored the tension in his voice, the beating pulse within his veins.

“Ah?” Jiang Cheng looked away, his eyes trailing over the wet towel again. Over Lan Zhan’s body barely covered below it. Lan Zhan pulled it up, one more look away from scolding, insulting, kicking Yunmeng-Jiang’s leader with all the force of embarrassing shyness, and Jiang Cheng ripped his eyes up again, unbothered. “What did you watch me for then? What a waste of time.”

“You trained to relieve anger,” Lan Zhan said. “There is nothing to improve if it helped you clear your mind. Please leave now.”

“Do you think you staring helped me clear my mind? Do you think if you were in my place, you could stay calm, hm? Should we try?” Jiang Cheng put his sword on the shelf nearby and sat down. On the edge of the bathtub. Right next to the last dry part of the towel still draped over it. “Second Young Master Lan, why don’t you try and clear your mind while I watch and learn.”

“Clan Leader Jiang,” Lan Zhan warned.

“Please, teach me how you’d accomplish this.” Jiang Cheng reached into the water, eyes piercing into Lan Zhan’s, and picked one of the red petals up with two fingers. “Does it require flowers, scented waters, and candlelight?”

Lan Zhan glared back at him, brows so tightly furrowed it narrowed his field of view. Jiang Cheng smirked down at him, rubbed the soft petal between his fingers and clutched it then, squeezed the water out of it. It ran over his wrist, followed the line of his vein down his tense arm. His breathing hitched, too obvious in his bare chest, exposed, wet, layered with goosebumps. From the cold. The steam of the still warm bath wrapped him into too warm air and forced him to breathe hard enough that Lan Zhan could hear it.

Lan Zhan noticed only now that he had pressed far back into the tub, as if he could hide, as if it mattered to hide. For someone with more important worries, the sight of naked skin would not leave a scar in the memories. Lan Zhan should watch and learn from Jiang Cheng instead. He blushed.

“I apologise.” His voice was quiet and soft, a whisper lost over the sound of Jiang Cheng reaching into the water again to pick another petal. He stopped, fingers rippling the water surface, and pulled away before touching the petal. There was a strange fresh redness on his cheeks.

“Whatever,” he said as if Lan Zhan had insulted him and jumped to his feet, reached for his sword – and slipped.

Water splashed all around them as Jiang Cheng crashed into the tub. On top of Lan Zhan. Heavy. Warmer than the water. Hand searching for balance, grabbing, reaching, touching Lan Zhan’s thigh, waist, then his shoulder – and slipping off again.

Jiang Cheng crashed with his face on Lan Zhan’s chest, right into the wet towel. Lan Zhan kicked instinctively, had tried too hard to stay still and let out a strange whine, pulled back, away, and ended with another person’s body between his legs. Too close. He whined again, pulled at the towel, and somehow pulled Jiang Cheng with it. Entangled in the towel, they pushed and pulled at each other, made it worse, warmer, splashed water everywhere, and the wood of the tub ached under their struggle.

“Stop, stop, fucking stop moving!” Jiang Cheng grabbed his wrist, ripped Lan Zhan’s hand away from the towel and slammed it against the tub’s edge. He was right above him, one breath away in the fog of steam, and breathed through it right in Lan Zhan’s burning face. Jiang Cheng’s face had been reddened by the heat of the water, his pulse raging from the struggle in his throat, in his chest pressing into Lan Zhan’s. His grip on Lan Zhan’s wrist was strong enough to break branches.

Lan Zhan breathed in shakily, swallowed protests, and stilled, forced his body to surrender under the weight of another’s.

Jiang Cheng breathed back. his eyes glanced down again, but never made it further than Lan Zhan’s mouth. For there was nothing to see anyway. Not for another man who was used to train half-naked in the rain. Whose muscles were hard, bones heavy, skin hot. Whose hips pressed into his.

His mind might never clear again from this sensation.

Legs trapped between Jiang Cheng’s, Lan Zhan feared nothing more than to move and find other sources of strange warmth. He felt his body refusing his command, demanding to move, lift, search one touch. He looked away. Waited. And Jiang Cheng breathed. Breathed. Breathed until every exhale of air tickled Lan Zhan’s skin, his lips.

If he wanted, he could have pushed Jiang Cheng out of this tub and thrown him out. And yet, he wasn’t moving. Lingering on warmth like he had never felt it before. Naked except for a towel that knotted them together, feeling too much of Jiang Cheng’s body even through the wet clothes separating them.

“Now you don’t want to watch?” A hoarse whisper, sparking shivers and goosebumps, enraging a stray heart.

Lan Zhan refused to follow that raging beat and looked up. He didn’t have far to go. Jiang Cheng was less than a breath away now. Water ran over his skin, flushed, and into his eyes even, darker than the night outside. A red petal was stuck in his dishevelled hair.

Lan Zhan reached up, slowly, hand trembling too hard to appear calm and collected. His uncle surely disappointed in him somewhere. He picked the petal from Jiang Cheng’s hair. Carefully. Until Jiang Cheng shifted his gaze, slowly pulled it from Lan Zhan’s face as if it gave him large trouble to look away, and watched the petal. Lan Zhan closed his fist around it, crushed the petal. Jiang Cheng swallowed so hard, the pulse beating in his throat appeared hard and fast.

“Go on…” Jiang Cheng looked at him again, differently, eyes too dark and open, inviting him to take a leap and fall. “I won’t judge you either… for sneaking a look.” He leant closer with every word. The steam between them was a useless shield, quite unnecessary, blurring the view of these eyes too forceful to sneak a look, drawing closer.

Lan Zhan closed his eyes. Punished himself for ever sneaking a look by refusing the warmth from these searching, questioning almond-eyes now that he craved them most. And when something warmer and fiercer than words pressed against his lips, it felt like a reward, not punishment. A kiss, too deep and desperate to waste time with judging.

[fateandloveentwined]

5 notes on Xie Lian and maybe a note more

omg this took so long i'll proofread in the morning. written in chinese originally, under "read more". annotations on [google docs] with translations to come because there are too many.

(if you do chinese, skip to the cut! it is way better than the translation cri.)

it is fortunate that their ship name is coined Hualian and not Hua-xie. The flower withers, the petals fall. Yet there is a time for blossoms, a time for withers — if huaxie it really is, still it is befitting of their eight hundred years of separations and reencounters.

仙花垂憐，川城傾謝。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在無間，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

o n e .

He was pierced by a hundred swords. Thereafter, he offered to be pierced again. The nightly terrors that prowl wild in his dreams: he was ready to embrace it once more. The heart pierces, and yet it trembles.

t w o.

A thought experiment: if Wuming didn't die for Xie Lian at the rematerialisation of the hundred swords, would Xie Lian have accepted his second ascension?

The world is a wretched sea. Mortals, misery. Some people carry with them the weight of conscience, atlas or abyss on their shoulders as they edge stepwise towards the heavenly skies, for they know that the higher they go, the more power they wield in their hands to change the course of the stars. Lin Shu stands on the shoulders of legacy and demarcates Conscience on the ground. He steps into the encirclement he has carved: he holds himself hostage and falls into the nether realms of the incessant inferno, subject to an unyielding pursuit for bygone honours and nobility in store. It takes courage, to live like this.

But it also takes another kind of courage, to not live like this. Xie Lian wasn’t like Lin Shu. Dethroned, mortalised, buried and stripped of power and grace, he wandered on earth for eight hundred years. He did not save the destitute mortals, desolate and crying for help. He did not bestow on them the bountiful blessings, as what a god could do. The did-not-do’s — it takes in another courage to be him.

t h r e e.

Had Xie Lian really collected scraps these eight hundred years? To deny would be an injury to his memoir, but there is more to that. He served as the high priest of a kingdom, a general to an army; through the grapevine, the crown prince in white had played many roles on the stage of life, a hundred years here in the role of one, and a hundred from forth in the robes of another. In time, the tales of the one who inspired rose and ebbed, yet the legacies remain. He didn’t protect the people with his deified status, yet what endures is his compassion and mercy. In the rain, the figure clad in white walks past the world in joy and tears and touches the hearts he passes — this was his salvation, and his ascension to godhood.

f o u r.

At his second banishment, Xie Lian implores Jun Wu to assuage him of his merit and luck. Mortals light incense in exchange for blessings in supplication. Xie Lian disperses Fortune to earth instead, and disassembles Divinity for the common people to carve out blessings of their own lives.

The works of one cannot salvage the teetering constructs of a foundering world. The world is a tapestry of woven histories; people save the people as the tales unfurl. The stitches tangling in a sea of light, blessed faces lit up in the night by the millions of lanterns adorning the households of the earth, keeping it bright as stars in the sky. And it was so, what Xie Lian and Hua Cheng did.

f i v e.

The sword nears his neck: he is unfazed. The tenderness and gentleness of the noble spirit endures, staid as the meekness of nephrite jade. In the vicissitudes of temperaments, he sits, blasé; he does not concern himself with the triumphs and setbacks of life.

Clouds and storms wash across the world as he continues, with eased smiles and casual dialogue.

It is the most pitiable thing, of all in the world, gazing upon one who smiles placid in face of abject misery. He laughs in his affliction, yet is there such a thing, to be okay in utter wretchedness?

Fleeting moments of forlornness and joy all condensed in the time of a single gaze: his experiences refine him into a jade of the heart. The days of the ingenuous youth awash in ages past, gone were the luckiest teen of the kingdom, but the pureness in the eyes behind the sheaths of pain remain.

— I’m used to it, it matters no more;

who is there in this race with him but the immutable laws of nature in the crescent moon and wind?

The splendour surges, the crowds fete, the splendour falls — in the desert there is none: there is no glass of water waiting at your salvation. Dust and silt fork at each’s turn of fate; flies shovel across the path towards their better destinies. So long as one has feelings, has desires, how could one be truly free? The flower remains. The vista is unchanged. Yet the splendorous tower — the radiant memories of the past — bygones — and still he says that although the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives content. Where, pray, is the fount of the utopian peach blossom? How so, that the heart is at peace, in face of all this?

Yet he is well. His heart at peace. Where the heart lies, the peach blossoms spring.

+ 1

Xie Lian is this person, as such. Though the spring of the peach blossoms have long since dwindled, he hopes, towards.

Original chinese version below the cut

所幸，他们选的CP叫花怜，不是花谢。不过“花落花开自有时”，若真为花谢，也配合他们这八百年的聚散离合罢。

仙花垂怜，川城倾谢。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在无间，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

一、

百剑穿身后复挺出，再一次历万剑戳戮之痛。这一点，我是痛心、亦是悸动的。

二、

有过这样的想法，花城若是没有为谢怜挡下了第二次的万剑戮身，怜怜是不是不会愧疚如斯，会接受第二次的飞升？

“琅琊榜”林殊跟谢怜是不一样的。苍生于苦海，有的人会承载着毕生愧疚跬步而行，因为上了天庭，才有最大的力气赋以一拼，拯救最多的人。此后一生举步维艰，承载着、背负着的不再是一个人小时候的清平理想，更是踩着他人骨脊向上爬行的椎心之痛——往后是画地为牢，是不顾己身也要焚尽一切，济众生于颠簸的无间岁月。这无庸置疑是一种勇气。

可谢怜没有这么做。失去了神力、身分，八百载流连人世，他没有拯救到苍穹下的芸芸众生，没有为他们争取最大的福祉。可这，也须要另一股勇气。

三、

谢怜这八百年真的去收破烂了吗？有，当然有。可他当过国师、当过将军，成就过数之不尽，江湖传闻中不为人知的百年故事。他没有以神明身分保佑万民，可他的慈怜犹存；雨中笠者，垂緌间点拂人间百态——这是他的拯救、他的神明。

四、

第二次飞升之际，谢怜哀求君吾散去自己一身功德、一身气运，自此潦倒人间历尽尘俗。人皆供神求福，谢怜将其福泽尽散，颠沛流离之人得享其华。他致神明于凡人，使世间重拾自由、意志。

孤木难支，一人之劳无能挽苍生、解万苦；大厦将倾，独木焉能匡扶？拯挽苍生，自苍生始，遂藉万民之手拯之。此后万家灯火灿若星河，烟火千里红尘无虞。谢怜、花城做到了。

五、

刀斧加身而神色不改、面无惧色，谦谦君子温润如玉，今古兴衰谈笑风生中雨过天青。宠辱不惊，看庭前花开花落；去留无意，望天上云卷云舒。

云淡风轻。

最疼是口是心非之人，三两莞尔散去心中阴霾，愈是疼痛，愈是笑逐颜开，浑若无事。可刀斧悬颈，万剐千刀，心中岂能无恙？

百般悲喜付诸抬首一眸，千番历练炼就柔和似水：如切如磋、如琢如磨。削磨净尽的是昔日的棱角利刃，透澈瞳帘背后是磔刑凌迟般的刀剜苦楚。“习惯了，不足为外人道矣”——清风拂我，明月清风我。

可笑这世间起朱楼、宴宾客，人情冷暖的荒漠里连救命的一杯水也不肯施舍。浮沉各异势；泣血蝇虫笑苍天：蚁排兵、蜂酿蜜，有感情、有欲望，世间焉得自在者？花相似、景依旧，烟锁秦楼、却道“身在无间，心在桃源”。桃源何在，心何安之？

然心安。心之所向，是桃源。

Tl;dr：谢怜就是这样的人。纵武陵人远，吾往矣。

Full annotations found here. Untranslated for now because there are simply too many; I suggest copying and pasting into the browser if you are interested in the poetry and verses cited. Many of them are not used as per their original meaning, however, so it is 99% on me if you caught the reference but did not understand it.

Anyhow, a note on the two most important allusions, because there is value in such:

[1] 身在无间，心在桃源。Whence the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives beyond, content.

A suggested translation of "Body in abyss, heart in paradise" because I vehemently abhor the official tl.

Incessant hints to the nirvana of buddhism. I didn't play with the idea of using paradise like in John Milton's poem to encapsulate the utopian ideals of Jin dynasty Tao Yuanming's Taoist Peach Blossom Spring visions. In Tao's essay he expresses the notion "I can live in a peaceful provincial paradise where the peach blossoms spring and forget about worldly matters", which is not exactly the biblical Eden. Probably owing to the idea that Xie Lian never actively sought out an extraterrestrial, heavenly, peach-blossom-spring paradise, I did not translate it literally here but figuratively, though opinion probably divides on this one.

[2] 纵武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。

念武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。——《凤凰台上忆吹箫·香冷金猊》 李清照

李氏取自：

烟锁凤楼无限事，茫茫，鸾镜鸳衾两断肠。——《南乡子·细雨湿流光》 冯延巳

Extreme liberties taken. Li Qingzhao wrote the first poem from the perspective of a lover. She sits at her own chambers reminiscing about her lost lover. This in turn was alluding to Feng Yansi's poem. Both works reference a tower/chamber where two mythical lovers spent their time at before ascension. As such, this phrase denotes here something unattainable from past memories and someone locked in perpetuum, in stasis, waiting for something to come.

In relation to this line on the chamber/tower by Li Qingzhao, a direct allusion to Tao Yuanming's peach blossom utopia was also alluded to in Li's poem in the antecedent line, despite both being used to speak of romance and not sociopolitical utopian ideals. The sleep-deprived me thus thought it "apt" to cite both lines in the writing to express Xie Lian's longing for the peach blossom paradise, despite said paradise being no longer extant on Earth, and him being in incessant hell. The peach blossoms in question tie in with mxtx's allusion of the peach blossom spring in tgcf's famous quotation; thus explains the reason for all the convoluted quoting.

this much for now. I hope something makes sense, at least. The english version is very, very figurative since I realised the chinese version was nigh impossible to literally translate without dedicating a relatively great amount of time to it. I don't know how this will be received at all, but why hi, and hope it is something at least xD

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

All the fics that have been written using prompts from the Promise You WILL Write collection. This list will be updated monthly with anything new, most recent works listed first.

Please visit the collection to leave a prompt for someone to write or take one for yourself… All are welcome! You can check out their page @promiseyouwillwrite for more info.

✨ Be sure to show the authors some love and appreciation with kudos and comments on the fics you enjoyed!

*Authors: If your tumblr (or other socials) isn’t linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you're linked, and you'd rather not be, please contact me to remove it.

Most recent posted fics (new works this month, not WIPs) will be featured above the cut. ✂️

🥛 too late to run for cover by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [NR, 3K] Lucy's done with Hawk's drinking and tells him to leave so he buys a house on Fire Island and decides to fully integrate into the lifestyle at great detriment to his own well-being.

Part 1 of and so with the sunshine: the fire island chronicles Prompted by: @beyondxmeasure

🥛 right or wrong i can't get along without you by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [NR, 3K] Jackson Fuller disappears and everyone fears the worst - until he turns up in San Fransisco asking Tim for help. Prompted by: @arbor-tristis

🥛 i've got my love to keep me warm by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [T, 6K] Mary brings Tim to a Christmas party at Hawk's mother's house. Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 Kiss of Fire by drabbleswabbles* [NR, 2K] Tim pays a matchmaker to set him up on a blind date. Things do not go according to plan. Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 hold on (i'm coming) by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [NR, 2K] Hawk's nightly phone calls become increasingly desperate until Tim has no choice but to go to him. Prompted by: @lispenardst

🥛 my boy by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [G, 783] Tim wants to know who Hawk belongs to. The answer isn't what he expects. Prompted by: anonymous

🥛 Within The Heart of Me  by drabbleswabbles* [NR, 9K] Lucy goes to the hospital to talk to Tim. When she arrives, Hawk is already there.

Otherwise known as a prompt fill that wanders a bit off the mark, but is close enough in spirit to give credit where credit is due as far as inspiration goes. Prompted by: @beyondxmeasure

🥛 Darkness Before the Dawn  by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific [NR, 1K] It’s June 1944, following the US offensive against the German-led Caesar line that tore through a small squad of the 141st Regiment, killing two men and wounding others, along with Sergeant Hawkins Fuller. Following the blast of the Nazi’s K5 railway gun, he underwent surgery to repair sustained shrapnel damage and is now recovering in the Army’s 32nd Evac Hospital. In the bed next to him lies Corporal Marcus Gaines from the 85th Infantry Division, also wounded in action.

Or, the story of how Hawk and Marcus met. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 you just make my whole world weep (i'm at your feet)  by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [E, 1K] Even now the thought of the shape of his mouth imprinted on Tim's skin makes him shudder as he slides down Tim's body past his ridiculous Christmas sweater.

Or, a blowjob scene that went very differently. Prompted by: @startagainbuttercup

🥛 Let Me Shower You With My Love  by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific [M, 7K] Hawk helps Tim in the shower.

A 1986 canon divergent fix-it. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 like being home  by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup  When Hawk turns eighteen, he expects the name of Kenneth Willard to appear on his skin, tattooed on his arm or his leg, a soulmate mark that bonds you forever with the person you belong to.

Hawk doesn't know what you're supposed to feel for your soulmate, but what he feels for Kenny, his sweet Kenny must be very close, or at least Hawk thinks it is.

Or, a soulmate AU one person asked for and I still managed to do it wrong. Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 I Belong to You  by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific [E, 2K] This isn’t even close to how he saw their night ending, but here they are, and if Tim wants it rough, who is Hawk to deny him?

Or, the ‘Hit me.’ scene… but a little different. In which Hawk still hits Tim, just not where you think. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 Please Ease My Pain.  by Southernkiss* [E, 3K] As the four men shed their clothing, their motivations varied. Some sought to satiate a thirst that could never be quenched, while others craved the rush of dominance. But little did they know, their desires would lead them down a path of self-discovery and into a twisted reality they never could have imagined. The darkness that resided within them and in this new world consumed them, tainting every aspect of their beings. And as they delved deeper into this abyss, they soon realized the true consequences of their actions. Prompted by: @doodlingawaits

🥛 gold-skinned, eager baby  by @lispenard-street | lispenardstreet [E, 10K] Tim sets out for Fire Island with a single goal: to dig Hawk out of his pit of self-destruction.

As it turns out, Hawk is after something else entirely.

A 1979 fix-it… of sorts. Prompted by: @lispenard-street

🥛 you should be in my space (you should be in my life)  by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [E, 3K] What if Tim let Hawk touch him during their mutual masturbation session. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 In my nothing, you meant everything to me.by @in-our-special-place |  Cupping_Cakes [M, 636] Her body trembled with conflicting emotions—a slight tingle of pain for being unfaithful, but also a wave of happiness for finally feeling desired. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 make sure he knows by b3y0ndm3asur3* [G, 693] “How did you manage it?” Marcus asks Hawk, not making eye contact.

Hawk squints at him, head pounding from the amount of liquor he’s consumed over the past couple of days. “Manage what?”

There’s a pause. Hawk watches Marcus swallow. “Losing a kid,” he says eventually through gritted teeth, like he has to force the words out. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 is it over now? by @satelarry | satelarry [M, 42K] Seeing the love of your life walk away without being able to tell him that you love him has to be one of the worst situations a person can go through. But Hawk decided to fulfill Tim's request, knowing it will be the last.

What happens when he wakes up, 18 years before, with the knowledge of what's going to happen if he makes the same decisions?

Does the ending always stay the same?

Or, the Time Travel AU in which the only thing ruining Hawk's plan is Tim's stubbornness. Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 In his voice I heard decay, the plastic face forced to portray. by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes [M, 557] Marcus finally broke the silence, his voice heavy with sorrow. 'Hawk,' he said, his gaze fixed on his glass. 'I have something to tell you.' Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 So simple now by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [G, 581] Hawk has loved Tim his whole life, too. He's loved him since the minute he saw him smiling adorably on that election night. He's loved him since the moment he felt him writhing in his arms, lost in pleasure. He's loved him for thousands of years, even before he was born. He loved him every second of every minute he spent with him, and he loved him even more when they were apart.

Or, the "I have loved you my whole life…" scene, but in Hawk's POV, a lot of overwhelming feelings. Prompted by: @lispenard-street

🥛 I'll follow you down and I am here right beside you. by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes [E, 1K] Tim's eyes were filled with a mix of satisfaction and sadness, as if he too felt the ache of their lost connection. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 There’s no place I'd rather you be than with me. by @in-our-special-place |Cupping_Cakes [E, 719] Their embrace was raw and primal, fueled by the angst of wanting each other but being afraid to admit it. Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 something i can't go without by @satelarry | satelarry [E, 7K] Hawk goes to Fire Island to escape dealing with his feelings but that isn't far away from Tim's kind heart. Perhaps he doesn't want it to be.

Or, The Meat Rack AU. Prompted by: @beyondxmeasure

🥛 Just keep on usin' me Until you use me up. by Southernkiss* [E, 1K] Tim could feel Hawk's hot breath on his neck as he whispered in his ear, 'You want to be loud, Tim? Well, go ahead. I want to hear you.' Prompted by: @deputy-buck

🥛 Yours forever anyway by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [G, 733] Hawk and Tim dance together. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 Until next time by @lovebunnie | space_kid [T, 1K] There was a moment in time where he could have run into Tim in this hospital with his newborn baby. He could have seen the devastation in his eyes as the betrayal became real, no more an abstract concept born in the early hours of the morning. Hawk had just missed watching Tim lay eyes on his son for the first time. He itched for a cigarette. Prompted by: @feelingpure

🥛 He calls late at night by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [T, 1K] Hawk calls Tim after Jackson's death Prompted by: @lispenard-street & @ishipallthings

🥛 Love is an angel disguised as lust by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [E, 2K] Hawk's eyes darkened, from outshining the daytime sky to rivaling the night. His lips curved into a wicked smirk. If Tim didn't know better, he might suspect he'd just played right into Hawk's hands.

"Educate me." That wasn't exactly what Tim had intended. But, his attention caught by the glint off Hawk's wedding ring, Tim decided he could work with that. Or, the edging fic that's probably sixty percent soft. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 My religion is you by Southernkiss* [E, 734] Tim bit his lip; his body was already aching for more. 'You spank them,' he whispered, his voice trembling with desire. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 I wave my hands and I got you by Southernkiss* [E, 616] He belonged to him, ring on his finger or not. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 I’ll become the sea and the sea will come to kiss me by @in-our-special-place |Cupping_Cakes [M, 1K] Tim's voice was a gentle whisper. 'I know, Hawk. But I'm here. You're not alone in this.' Prompted by: @ishipallthings

🥛 We’ll be on the road like jack kerouac by @jesterlesbian | captainquint [M, 4K] He tried to think of what Tim would do or say. The man who had only spoken to his son a handful of times over one weekend in 1968, but had seemed to understand him far better than Hawk ever had. The business card felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. An idea burst to life in Hawk’s mind. This was an emergency if he’d ever seen one. “What would you say to coming with me to San Francisco?” Or, Hawk and Jackson go on a cross-country road trip to San Francisco. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 Like to make you comfy cozy by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [G, 1K] During a lazy night in bed together, Tim sings Hawk to sleep. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 So give me just a little, baby Just something to get by. by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes [E, 1.3K] Tim couldn't help but think that this was the best milk delivery he had ever received. Prompted by: @beyondxmeasure

🥛 You take my body I give you heat. by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes [E, 1K] Without hesitation, Tim bent down and began to lick the milk off of Hawk's body, savoring the taste and feel of Hawk's skin under his tongue. He traced every muscle and curve, his lips and tongue sending waves of pleasure through Hawk's body. Prompted by: @startagainbuttercup

🥛 champagne lovers  by @satelarry | satelarry [NR, 12K] It's awards season, and what better way to celebrate than with a Hawk/Tim awards AU. Whether they're strolling the red carpet together, supporting each other as they're up for awards, or just presenting something. It's up to you. Just 'tis the season for this kind of AU! Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 You taste divine  by @carnivalrow | nightfall_in_winter [E, 1.3K] Hawk joins Tim in the shower in episode 6 because he wants to kiss him…there! Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 A Star To Steer Her By by Anonymous [NR, 6K] Tim is a starship captain, Hawk is a diplomat. Things happen when Hawk arrives on Tim's ship. Or, the Star Trek AU one (1) person asked for. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 Beautiful Things by @carrotcakecrumble | LuxLox [M, 1K] I turn away from the radio I’d just been tuning, there’s a crackle and pop on the wave, but Miller’s ‘Over the rainbow’ is just about spattering through in tune. Kenny says something about how he loves this one. It could be the first time he’s hearing it, for all I know. He falls in love with everything.

A multi-chapter fic following a young Hawk and Kenny throughout their relationship, from beginning to end. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 the thrill of your sweet embrace  by @redmyeyes | redmyeyes [E, 4.4K] "Somewhere, a butterfly opened its wings."— Erik Larson, Isaac's Storm

Let's see if we can make this a fix-it. Part 5 of Fellow Travelers. Prompted by: Anonymous

🥛 all those letters unsent and that garden ungrown by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [T, 1.4K] Dear Tim, I know I promised I won't write, but I believe what I really promised is not to send you letters, and this one I'm not going to send, so it is not a violation of my promise. Skippy, I miss you more than I thought I could. It's your birthday and I can't help but think about you the whole day, you consume my every thought and I can't stop wondering, what would it be like if you were here. Or, the letters Hawk never sent. Prompted by: Anonymous

[orangeboulevard]

Hush (Harry Potter x GN!Reader)

Summary: Whilst sneaking around the castle, Harry stumbles into the reader. Words: 635 Pairing: Harry Potter/GN!Reader

Harry had snuck out of his dormitory. Again. How could he not? The infinite potential and possibilities of having both a map of every nook and cranny of the grounds of Hogwarts and an invisibility cloak which allowed him to wander undetected left him feeling giddy and unable to sleep.

His recent inability to sleep may also be a product of the tension created by the escape of a mass murderer who may or may not wish to kill him- he considered this but realised that that was nothing out of the ordinary for Harry, so, that was not the cause of his inability to sleep. Perhaps it was... his cheeks dusted with a blush as he vividly pictured the cause: soft hair, pretty eyes and flawless skin. He shook himself out of his thoughts, cursed his traitorous brain, and continued down the dark corridor.

His nightly escapades were usually conducted in his fluffy socks and without shoes, he couldn't risk being loud and alerting either Filch, Mrs Norris or another teacher. The invisibility cloak was draped over him as he held his wand in one hand, it illuminated the Marauder's map which he held in the other, his concentration was arrested as he tried to discern where this 'secret passage #4', as written on the yellowed parchment paper map, was located.

He had failed to notice the approaching figure, a figure who was the subject of many of his thoughts. The figure belonged to you, you were shadowed by the cover of night, quiet in your own steps as you crept about the sleepy castle. Your collision was abrupt and startling- you let out a loud yelp as you both fell, you tumbled into one of the many decorative suits of armour and it clattered the ground with an ear-shattering sound that echoed down the corridor. 

Harry shrugged off the cloak, "I- shit! I didn't see you. Shit!" 

You looked at him unimpressed, "Are you serious? Harry, you dumbass!" 

You two paused as you heard the patter of footsteps rapidly approach, your eyes widened in fear and Harry felt his pulse rise. Without thought, Harry shuffled forward and covered you both with the cloak. He extinguished his wand's light and his attention was directed behind you. He didn't seem to notice that your face was becoming increasingly red as you tried to lean away from him, he was so close that you could feel the heat of his body on your legs. 

You had been visiting a Slytherin friend before this. The two of you had been clad in the sleepwear, you in your pyjama shorts and cotton t-shirt and them, in their matching silk set. You were aware of Harry's nightly adventures and on your way back to your dormitory, had hoped that you would stumble upon him, you just hadn't realised that your wishes would be granted so literally but, hey, you weren't complaining... Your heart beat so violently that you were sure that Harry could hear it. 

Harry's eyes followed Snape's figure hawkishly, the man, lighted by his own wand, walked right past you two with a swish of his dark cape. Harry let out a sigh in relief and turned his gaze towards you, only now realising that he was all but straddling you. Your eyes stared up at him, his own deep green returned the stare. For a moment that seemed like an eternity, you sat like that. Your sweet shallow breaths ghosted his face and he was so close that he could count each long lash upon your eyelids. 

"Hey," Harry said lamely.

It seemed to be the right choice though because your lips turned into a grin, "Hey."

[imagines--galore]

It’s another TASM Peter X F Reader idea:

“Post No Way Home implications about how Peter 2 (Tobey) told Andrew Peter to not give up hope after he returns to his own universe.

“While on another nightly patrol, Peter briefly wonders about if there were other unknown spider traits that his mutated DNA were still keeping dormant within him…until an alluring, sweet scent suddenly hits his spider senses.

“He moves cautiously towards the source, but is also unable to fight the beckoning trance. The scent’s source turned out to be a well hidden young woman, who had been running from one place to another, trying to escape pursuers who wished to use her alluring abilities for their own selfish gains.

“Spider-Man could see how low her trust in people were, as his first meeting with her revealed her highly raised guard towards his presence. But his drunken senses couldn’t stop sniffing the air near her. When he took in too much of her “special pheromones”, he’d let out a sneeze.

“By hearing his sneeze, something in the pretty girl made her drop her guard slightly.”

I’m still not sure how subtle I’d want some smut implications to be in this fluff, drama, angst, romance driven daydream. I just know that I understand the biodynamics of animal instincts, and that my own fondness for a mating call fits perfectly with the spider mating research stuff which I’ve been looking up.

Pairing: TASM! Peter Parker x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Implications of sex but nothing detailed! And a brief mention of SA but you have to read between the lines to detect it. Nothing graphic. A/N: Sorry this took so long! It was a TALL ORDER! Love incorporating details into everything I write :3

Running away was something you were rather familiar with.

Not because you wanted to, but because you had to.

Because your blood contained a special kind of mutagen that created a pheromone that had the ability to attract any male who preferred the opposite sex. The problem was you had no control over your ability and on more then one occasion you had to shake off potential males from succumbing to the sweet scent that emanated from your body.

It had taken awhile but somehow you had managed to suppress the scent. Using a strong perfume helped. Flowers were even better. Perhaps why you had begun to make a living out of it by opening a flower shop and staying within the confines of it. Whenever you moved somewhere, opening a flower shop was the easiest way to mask your scent.

Now most girls would use such an ability to their benefit, to try and lure some rich and successful male. You, however, had no desire to do so. You didn't want anyone to fall in love with you because of some chemical that effected their brain. So it was no surprise that all you in your experience of encounters was a handful of kisses. Some of these were unwelcome, as were multiple other advances. Luckily, you had the good sense of taking a few defense classes and had managed to escape.

Though that didn't mean you weren't scarred from those instances.

Still, despite your condition and the multiple times you had upended your life because some male would become a little too obsessed with you, you still held on to hope. That maybe one day someone would fall in love with you for you.

Who knew you would meet that someone when you were just about to give up hope.

You had been run out of your most recent home by some rather unpleasant people. People who wanted to harvest your blood, extract the scent from it and use it for their own gain. You had no idea how they would do that, but you weren't about to stick around and find out. So, you had packed up with just the essentials and escaped into the night.

They were persistent. And for more then a few weeks you took to wandering the countryside and trying to evade capture. You went from one state to the other. You allowed your body to accumulate dirt and grime to mask your scent even more. But, truthfully? You were beginning to loose hope of ever finding peace again.

There you were, crouching in some alleyway in New York, clutching your bag to your chest and trying your best to avoid detection as you sobbed softly, cursing your ability that had brought nothing but misery to you ever since it originated.

                                           ————————–

Since his return from alternate Earth and meeting his two other alternate selves, Peter had been feeling better. At least emotionally. There had been something about that comradery that had him forgetting all of his sorrows and just focusing on the bigger picture. On hoping that he would find love and family just like the other Peters had.

And it helped that Peter had told him not to give up hope. To keep looking for his own MJ. And though Gwen would always be his first love, she would want him to move on wouldn't she?

Still it would take time before all of that happened, but at least he was on the path of healing.

What he hadn't expected that his road to love would start with a scent that would overcome his senses and have him nearly falling from the sky as he swung through the city.

It was a sweet scent that coiled through the air. Something stirred within him, an urge that pushed him to find the source as soon as he could.

And perhaps it was that feeling that compelled him, or maybe it was the way the scent clung to his very skin, calling out to him like a siren that had him swinging towards the source.

As the scent grew stronger, his mind continued to make deductions.

It was definitely feminine. He didn't know how he knew, he just did. And while the initial scent was sweet and alluring, he could also sense several underlying emotions that was masked by the powerful scent.

Fear. Loathing. Hopelessness.

Again he had no idea how he deduced that. Maybe this was another one of his powers? He knew he had not unlocked all of them. Besides didn't he read that some spiders had the ability smell with their feet and through their hair? maybe this was some extension of his spider sense?

The scientist side of him was rather curious about all this, however the side of him that urged him to find the source faster won out for now, and he dropped into the alley where the scent was strongest.

                                           ————————–

The sudden arrival of the masked hero had your heart beating faster then ever. Normal males you could handle, but one who was super-powered? How would you fight him off?!

You watched as he craned his neck and you knew he was sniffing the air, trying to detect where you were. You closed your eyes, hoping and wishing and praying you would suddenly disappear.

No such luck.

The trash can you were hiding behind was pushed to the side and you had no choice but to open your eyes and look at Spider-man as he stood in front of you.

"Please don't hurt me." The whimper was falling from your lips before you even thought about it.

For his part Peter couldn't help but stare.

While the scent had gotten stronger, confirming that it was indeed coming from you, there was nothing much he could do now instead just look at you.

You had gotten incredibly thin during your weeks on the run. You were covered in dirt and your clothes were torn in many places. Not to mention the soot that partially covered your face from where you had rubbed it on you in an attempt to mask your scent a little more.

He also took in the fear that he could now scent much clearer. The way your eyes were wide with it, and how your body trembled.

It broke something in him, and despite his instincts screaming otherwise he pushed the effects of your scent to the side.

Though not before inhaling deeply one last time to allow your scent to consume his very being.

His body didn't seem to like what he did, perhaps while one part of him thought the scent irresistible, another part saw it as a threat and sought to dispel the scent from his body with a very loud sneeze.

The sudden reaction had you blinking up at him in surprise, your initial fear forgotten.

Given the nature of your ability, you had read almost everything there was about airborne particles. And you knew that sneezing was a way of the body rejecting these particles.

A small spark of hope ignited in your chest as you bit your lower lip before speaking. "Please, I need help."

The desperation in your eyes and the fact that you had reached out to him for help was the last straw. The last of his initial urge took a backseat and he gave a nod as he reached out a hand to help you up.

"Lets get you someplace safe."

                                           ————————–

That first encounter had been rather awkward.

And it certainly didn't stop there.

Once you were in the aforementioned safe place, which was his apartment, he set you down on the floor and you were quick to put some distance between the both of you.

You had volunteered to walk to the address he gave you, with him keeping a lookout as you did. He hadn't offered to pick you up, probably thinking it was a bad idea given how your scent was calling to him.

Still he needed to pick you up to enter from the open window of his apartment. Safety reasons, he had said, didn't want anyone in the building to have seen you walk in.

Still those brief seconds, where your bodies had pressed together, he had been hit with your scent and while it was masked with other scents and was definitely muted, it was enough to make him feel.....something he didn't wish to think about for fear his thoughts would get away from him. Then he had sneezed again and all those thoughts dissipated.

"Why don't you clean up and get comfortable?" He offered, waving in the direction of the bathroom. At your stricken gaze he held up his hands in a placating manner. "Don't worry. I promise I won't do anything. I can control myself. Besides, I'm gonna go and do a patrol around the block. Make sure we weren't followed." Also because he wanted to give you time to adjust, which honestly, as you dwelled on it later, was rather thoughtful of him.

As you gazed at your reflection in the still foggy mirror, you couldn't help but allow yourself to smile at hos relaxed you felt. Not to mention how nice it felt to be clean again!

Giving your hair one last shake to get rid of any water droplets you stepped out of the bathroom, only to be greeted with the sight of Spiderman without his mask.

He must've heard you because his gaze turned towards you at the same time.

And you stared.

And he stared.

For how long? Neither of you really knew.

While the scent had been dull before, surely it was at it's peak now. And while his olfactory senses focused on the scent, his eyes were busy taking you in and wandering just how he had missed your beauty before. He could blame the dirt and grime that had covered you from head to toe.

Your thoughts were no better then Peter's. You hadn't expected him to take off his mask, and the sight of the young man, who didn't look that much older then you, had you doing a double take. He was handsome, there was no denying that. You wandered just how comfortable you felt in his presence, despite having met him not even an hour ago.

Finally, Peter cleared his throat and scratching the back of his head, an act he did when he was nervous, he spoke. "So, mind telling me what kind of trouble you're in?"

                                           ————————–

That night you told him everything.

Starting from when you had developed your ability to the multiple times you had been forced to leave, and now the people who were after you. For once in your life you didn't hold back. Everything that had ever happened to you came spilling out and it just felt so nice to share your troubles with someone else. Someone who could actually help.

Because thats exactly what Peter did. As soon as you were done telling your story, and explaining your ability he explained how he was also partially a scientist and, if you were to give permission, he could draw some blood from you and figure out your abilities.

Maybe even find a way to help you suppress it.

Where a few hours ago you had scarcely allowed yourself to hope, now your eyes swam with tears and you couldn't help but feel your heart swell. You thanked him, over and over, till he had to ask you to stop. And if you could, you probably would've hugged him.

But for now, you were content to remain with him until the danger was past and perhaps you would emerge from this ordeal with a cure for your abilities.

                                           ————————–

What had initially been a stay for a week or so slowly turned into months. The threat to your life had been taken care of, courtesy of a few well-placed calls by Peter, but now you stayed with Peter because you felt safe. And Peter, being the kind-hearted person that he was, had opened his home to you for as long as you needed.

You had been able to find a job at a nearby local flower store. You had no desire to live with Peter for free. You would be paying for your things, as well as whatever rent and utilities that came your way. Honestly, Peter was grateful that you were helping out. Living by himself hadn't been cheap, not to mention he had to keep his job at the Daily Bugle, and make sure the city was safe.

So having you to help out, was definitely a plus in his books.

Other then that though, there was also the pleasure of the company the both of you gave each other.

You had been hesitant at first, thinking that perhaps your abilities was what compelled him to take an interest in you. And you had even voiced it once, when Peter had demanded to know why you looked so scared when he came into the room.

Of course his entire demeanor had changed, and he had explained how while your sweet scent did call out to him, another part of him saw the scent as a potential threat and so rejected it completely. Of course, he let out the part where the former was much much stronger then the latter, but given your backstory, and all that you had gone through, Peter thought that it was probably for the best that you had some sort of relief from not being scared all the time.

Studying your blood was a rather interesting thing.

And he did figure out a little trick that would help suppress your abilities.

Not all the way, but enough so that people wouldn't be effected by you.

He had presented you with a perfume he had created specifically for you. One that had several chemicals mixed into it to mask your sweet scent. You had been hesitant at first, saying you had tried perfumes before, but he had only smiled at you and winked.

"You've never tried a Parker Original."

You had giggled at that, before nodding and agreeing to try it out.

That day he had taken you outside. At first you had clung to his arm, afraid that the next man passing by would begin to follow you, but to your surprise no one did.

Not a single man or woman glanced in your direction.

Throughout the entire walk around the block your heart was racing in your chest, fear and excitement coursing through your body. Peter had been a constant at your side, a comforting presence, ready to defend you if the need arose.

And once the both of you returned home, you had promptly burst into tears. Peter had panicked a little, thinking something was wrong, but you simply shook your head at his inquiry and threw your arms around him in an embrace that had his heart picking up speed, and for his body to grow warm.

And it had nothing to do with your scent, for he could not detect it anymore either.

                                           ————————–

From that day on, everything changed.

The entire world was open to you now. You could go anywhere, go back home, start your own business.

But you found yourself where you were. Living with Peter in his small apartment.

An apartment you had begun to see as home. Why? Because you had strewn several decorations of your own choosing all around it. You had filled the cupboards with snacks that you and Peter both loved. You had a little corner where your bed was in the living room, which was your own personal space.

But most of all?

You didn't want to leave because Peter was here.

Over the course of the past few months, you had actually begun to fall in love with him.

It had been a slow process, because in the beginning you hadn't allowed yourself to feel anything. Thinking that perhaps it was simply gratitude that you felt because of how much he was helping you out. But surely gratitude didn't make your heart beat faster every time he smiled at you.

Gratitude didn't make you daydream about kissing him.

Gratitude didn't make you want to see him smile. To make him smile. He had such a lovely smile.

And gratitude certainly did not make you dream about him in the most sinful of ways at night.

While you struggled with your own feelings for him, wandering if they were true or not, Peter was in his own little turmoil.

He didn't know when it had happened, but he knew that he had begun to fall for you.

Maybe it was your sweet disposition. How you would always have something kind to say to him. A trait he was surprised you had given how cruel the world had been to you.

Perhaps it was your ability to make him feel wanted. Wanted more then just as Spiderman. You made him feel wanted as Peter Parker.

His falling for your definitely had something to do with the fact that you made him feel less alone in the world, and made him want to actually live again. If you could face the world with a smile, despite all that you had faced then why couldn't he?

                                           ————————–

It all came to a head one night.

That night spritzing the special perfume had slipped your mind for some reason or the other. And after so long of not scenting it in the air, Peter was instantly able to pick up on it as soon as he came home.

It didn't help that you were standing there with popcorn and an offer for a movie, wearing one of his old shirts.

If your scent alone didn't drive him crazy, then his own scent mixed with yours would certainly serve the purpose.

You both sat together on the sofa, side by side, barely an inch apart, your shoulders brushing as the movie began. But neither of you were really paying attention to what was happening on the screen.

There was something different about tonight, you could both feel it. And while your scent contributed to it, it wasn't the only factor. You kept glancing at one another out of the corner of your eyes, looking away when your eyes would meet by accident.

His barefoot briefly brushed against yours, prompting your entire body to warm at that brief contact.

It wasn't until the two characters on screen were confessing their love for one another, that you finally allowed your gazes to meet properly.

And held.

It held long enough for the both of you to slowly start leaning towards one another. You briefly caught sight of the credits beginning to roll from the corner of your eyes, before your eyelids dropped lower, and your lips pressed against Peter's.

That first kiss was sweet and tender. Loving and affectionate. Neither of you pulled back, and you had no desire to pull back.

Not as Peter's hands came up to play with your hair. And certainly not when you ran his hand down his chest and melted against him when he took the kiss further.

The intensity of the emotions you felt in that moment prompted your abilities to increase the level of pheromones. And while Peter had the good sense to pull back, you only moaned in disappointment at the loss of his lips against your own.

"Are you sure?" He breathed against your neck, where he had placed his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his nose against your neck to inhale your sweet sweet scent.

You nodded, smoothly reaching down to grab the hem of the shirt your wore, and sliding it from your body and tossing it aside.

"I have never been more surer of anything in my entire life." You whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

And that was the final words of coherency you spoke the rest of the evening.

Whatever self-control he had been holding on to, broke completely. Neither of you had a proper memory of that night as you fell into each other's arms, allowing yourself to be swept away by the throes of passion.

Lips met in passionate embraces. Hands explored bare skin. Legs intertwined. Your sweet arousal merging with his own, creating a symphony of scents that had your skin burning with need. Sinful sounds echoing in both your ears as a new pleasure spot would be discovered. Bodies meeting in a dance that allowed you both to reach the peak of your pleasure.

What you did recall the next day, was the feeling of complete and utter bliss as you woke in his arms. And as he stirred and opened his eyes as well, you hoped and prayed that you would get to see him smiling like that every morning for the rest of your days.

And as for Peter? Well, he was sure he had finally found his MJ.

You.

[snarryauctoberfest]

2023 Snarry AUctoberfest Masterlist 💚❤️

Without further ado, the masterlist for the House of Snarry’s 2023 Snarry AUctoberfest! Thanks to all the participants, Tumblr followers, Discord members, Snarry enthusiasts, and then some! You guys were amazing and we can’t wait to be back next year!

Podfic

💚❤️ Out of Place by Faelyee || T || 189 minutes   Podficcer: Cailynwrites (AO3) Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Harry wakes up and the world has changed. Then he does it again.

Filk

💚❤️ Game Over || T || 3 minutes   Filker: EleanorPhoenix (AO3) Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

As the war ravages on, they meet again, years after Snape’s betrayal. Filk (fanmusic) to the tune of Zu Ende (Dracula the Musical original German performance).

Art

💚❤️ Kings of the Forest || G   Artist: SerenaEW (AO3) / @serenaew Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

There the trees, holly and oak, stood through sun and rain, always ready to spread their leaves over visitors and inhabitants of Hogwarts Castle who came their way. - modified according to Tate, W. K., Withers, S., Browne, H. (1917). The Child’s World.

💚❤️ Nightly Wanderings || G   Artist: Trueliarose (AO3) / @trueliarose Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Snarry AU - Cats Watercolour on paper, digitally edited

Art + Fanfic

💚❤️ How Deep a Promise Goes || M || 6.7k  Artist & Author: Evocative_Enigma (AO3) Archive Warning: Underage Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

When the owl Harry is gifted by Hagrid is threatened by his Uncle Vernon, Harry makes a solemn vow to protect his familiar from the man. This sets Harry’s life on course to be protected by the most unsuspecting characters.

Fanfic

💚❤️ all that’s left in the world || E || 16.8k Author: WeAreTheLuckyOnes (AO3) /  @peujeune Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

He’s a different person; he thinks differently. He used to think like a victim who had barely escaped their capture, but now… now maybe he thinks like a soldier; like a survivor. He thinks like a leader. He isn’t sure how he managed to land himself in this position, he never wanted to lead them, but he does, and he does it well. He’s kept most of them alive, somehow, through everything.

💚❤️ The Barter System || G || 5.6k  Author: whythehellnothavefun (AO3) Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

The first conversation they had resulted in a breakup. Things can only get better from here. Right?

💚❤️ Brat! || E || 25.7k  Author: Coconutice22 (AO3) / @coconutice22 Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

“Every child in the world will know his name!” With Voldemort gone forever, Harry’s childhood goes a little differently. Years later, Severus is called in to help deal with Harry’s magical outbursts. Life will never be the same again.

💚❤️ Calamity at the Canadian Call Centre || E || 3.7k  Author: Coconutice22 (AO3) / @coconutice22 Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Harry has a bad day at work. His manager calls him into his office to check up on him.

💚❤️ For I Have Found Salvation || E || 7.1k  Author: lumosatnight (AO3) / @lumosatnight Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Severus is a priest, and Harry is the parishioner who may just make him break his vows of celibacy.

💚❤️ Harry Potter and the Monster in the Woods || T || 5.8k  Author: wendymarlowe (AO3) Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Harry is sent into the woods to be sacrificed to the creature who lives there in exchange for the creature lifting his curse on Harry’s village. Harry is rather surprised not to be eaten. The creature is rather surprised that Harry turns out to be a tolerable life companion.

💚❤️ i would follow you into the deep || T || 3.5k  Author: DandelionConstellation (AO3) / @dandelionstars  Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Last year, when Harry Potter dove into the Black Lake to retrieve a treasure he’d sorely miss, he hadn’t counted on finding an even greater prize in the murky depths. Severus Snape, a merman of many talents, is a mystery that Harry is just itching to unravel.

💚❤️ In darkness, there is fear and comfort || T || 6.4k  Author: SerenaEW (AO3) / @serenaew Author: bluebird8683 (AO3) Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

The anguished scream, muted only by distance, had his feet racing before he could even consciously recognize who the voice belonged to. Even if he wasn’t pulled to the sounds of agony and loss and despair like a bloodhound on a hunt, the fact he recognized the voice as Harry’s would have made him run regardless. Ten years after the end of the Wizarding War, Severus and Harry face their worst fears once more. They’ve changed and so have their fears.

💚❤️ Innocent Lilies || E || 1k  Author: emeraldlove (AO3) / @givereadersahug Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

It was bittersweet to have Harry as he was back then — a charming boy who asked after another’s health, who cared for the hippogriffs roaming the castle grounds, and who greeted Severus each day with a bashful hello. Now Harry was the Dark Lord, ruling the land with a tight grip and harsh declarations, so different from his first eighteen years of life. Severus receives confirmation one night. A 2HA Snarry inspired fic.

💚❤️ Just Me and You || E || 63.6k  Author: Somn (AO3) / @somnwritessometimes Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Harry was just trying to get supplies but winds up completely alone and in dire straits. Just when it looks like he might really be finished, his magic spontaneously Apparates him to Hogwarts…and delivers him right into Severus Snape’s clutches.

💚❤️ The London House || M || 21.5k  Author: Acid (AO3) / @ac1d6urn Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Severus never anticipated the stroke of luck which led him to discover kindred spirits in Muggle London, yet it turned his life around. He never expected to fall in love either, but he must now deal with the consequences. Written for a prompt: “At London Pride, Police Officer Harry clashes with Drag Queen Severus, who has An Opinion about cops at Pride.”

💚❤️ Long Time Coming || G || 6.6k  Author: Fikadrw (AO3) / @fika-drw Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

It is as easy as breathing. To fall in love with your best friend. To make your whole world revolve around each other. There are no timelines where we didn’t end up together. There are no timelines where your mere presence didn’t light up my day. You, my best friend, my lover, my spouse, are everything to me.

💚❤️ The Mail-Order Bridegroom || E || 7.6k  Author: maraudersaffair (AO3) / @maraudersaffair Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

It’s 1888, and Severus needs a spouse to help him manage his homestead. His friend Lucius submits an advertisement for a mail-order bridegroom and Harry answers the call.

💚❤️ The Mistake || NR || 593  Author: whythehellnothavefun (AO3) Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

You know how embarrassed you feel after accidentally sending someone the wrong link? Wouldn’t you hate to imagine how bad it would be if you sent the wrong link to *two* people? Imagine no more.

💚❤️ Never in Your Favour || E || 20.8k  Author: zalil (AO3) Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Muggle AU. Headmaster Dumbledore decides it is time for Harry to train resistance to interrogation so he can properly join the Order of the Ostrich. And who better to administer that training than his very own Chemistry teacher, Severus Snape? “I am not merely talking about discomfort – you will be hurt, you will need medical assistance, there is going to be a severe impact on your mental health as well. We will be far, far out of range of a student-teacher relationship.”

💚❤️ A Potter Thing || E || 5k  Author: Kuronekochan (AO3) Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Severus had always been sensitive to other people’s magic. Lily’s relaxed him, the Marauders’ made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he vomited the one (and only) time he felt the Dark Lord’s. But Harry’s, the new Defense Professor’s, arousedhim. “You’ve been avoided me, Severus Snape.” “Hardly,” snapped Severus, turning his emotions to anger in a desperate bid to keep the arousal at bay. “Today, you stared down at your desk while thinking of another man. “And how did you even know what I was thinking anyway, you creep!” Potter pursed those plump and kissable lips of his in apparent annoyance. “That’s certainly no way for you to talk to a professor, Mr. Snape.” “Oh gods…you look so much like Potter I thought you’d be saved from the Black madness but you’re positively raving.” “You’re not the only one who feels it, you know,” Potter replied, his voice seeming to drop an octave as he did so. “It’s a Potter thing. From what James has told me, he’s felt the same pull from Lily since the moment he met her. Unfortunately, since she’s a Muggleborn, I suppose she’s not sensitive to it the way you are. Are you done fighting me now? Why deny what is inevitable?”

💚❤️ The Prince and the Painter || E || 8.3k  Author: Aeternum (AO3) / @aeternumregina Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

For the prompt: Renaissance!AU. King James and Queen Lily are trying to marry off their son, Prince Harry, and have hired Europe’s most revered court painter, Severus Snape, to paint a portrait of him to send out to prospective princesses. Severus is so charmed by Harry that he wants him for himself. His professional pride means he can’t bring himself to paint a bad portrait of him, but how can he prevent any royal wedding from taking place?

💚❤️ The Promise || M || 28k  Author: SquibNation10 (AO3) Archive Warning: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Ever since Harry arrived at Hogwarts: Home for the Orphaned Magicals, his life has been perfect. all the Sisters are here to help, he has a family in his friends and is working hard to be Chosen to graduate. But Hogwarts is keeping a dark secret and Harry needs Severus now more than ever. Prompt 2023-197: Based on Promise Neverland Premise (you don’t need to read the story to read this one). “I want you to be part of that whole”- is a paraphrased quote I took from one of the main leads from the anime.

💚❤️ Receive You || T || 11.5k  Author: babygray (AO3) / @babygray Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

It was supposed to be a typical investigation, even if “unwanted mischief in Glenloris” left too much up for conjecture. Suspicious characters were sneaking around the ancient dragon tomb just outside of town, and Severus had been sent to look into it. Things become a bit more complicated, however, when a young man and his white horse come to town. Prompt: 0001 - Wild Card! Snarry meet-cute in a Skyrim reskin with a dash of Yakuza/Like a Dragon mixed in for flavor.

💚❤️ Resurgence || E || 37.9k  Author: armassy (AO3) Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Prompt: #26: BDSM-AU: magical folk have certain dynamics between them. Magic ebbs and flows freely and healthily if one’s dynamic needs are met. Severus is a sub, but to keep his spywork perfect, he pretends to be a dom. It’s a thing that could seriously mess up a lesser wizard, but he is anything but lesser. He is not well though. Harry sees this, and, a dom through and through, craves to help. I love a good worldbuilding with these dynamics and the many ways bdsm-worlds could shape our favourite characters

💚❤️ Season of Growth || E || 25.8k  Author: sillybeans (AO3) Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Harry has everything he needs to live a simple but good life: a roof (and what a roof it is!) over his head, a loving family and a somewhat fulfilling job. What more could he want? Then he meets the prince’s new surly tutor, and everything changes.

💚❤️ A Stray Adventure || T || 6.6k  Author: Trueliarose (AO3) / @trueliarose Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Taking in an injured stray cat when walking home drunk was an idiotic idea; even more so if said cat turns out to be a (very attractive) wizard who captures Severus’ heart in an instant.

💚❤️ These Gifts are Made for Using || T || 9k  Author: whythehellnothavefun (AO3) Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Possessing the Family Gift is enough to elevate a half-blood or pureblood to become the Heir of a Family, regardless of the current Lord or Lady’s wishes. The Princes, Blacks and Potters each have Family Gifts, and in the annual Ceremony, Heirs are chosen, leaving some relatives… disappointed. The 1970 Ceremony will change people’s lives, for better and for worse.

💚❤️ Unexpected Suitor || T || 6k  Author: GenesisCrisis (AO3) Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Prompt: Historical AU. Harry must marry before his 25th birthday in order to receive his inheritance or see it given to a distant relative, but he has driven off every suitor. Fed up, Lily decides he can marry her childhood friend Severus, who won’t let himself be scared off by Harry’s antics. James is less enthused, but can see no other option for Harry to receive his inheritance. - “Severus, you’d be perfect!” “Excuse me?” exclaimed James and Harry simultaneously, one horrified, the other shocked. Severus’ eyes narrowed. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Lily.” -

💚❤️ Whiskey and Whine || E || 5.5k  Author: Likelightinglass (AO3) / @likelightinglass Author: Serpenscript (AO3) Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Omega Severus Snape and his Alpha Harry Potter have some fun between classes. But they aren’t alone!

💚❤️ Wicked Wiesn || E || 18.2k  Author: Trueliarose (AO3) / @trueliarose Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Tumblr Post: Link AO3: Link

Severus fought tooth and nail to be spared the experience of visiting the famous Oktoberfest with his colleagues, but of course Albus made him come. Being forced to endure the crowds of people, a handsome waiter catches his eye. Maybe this whole affair is not as bad as it seems, and maybe Severus can find something (or someone) to enjoy this craziness.

[legacyshenanigans]

Just a little something I wanted to do, because it's one of my favourite go-to tropes. 💚😩

Marvolo x MC 💚

Maid at Gaunt Manor MC, I just love this vibe

She had been a maid at Gaunt Manor for a few months now, living in the servents quarters of the estate. The job was fairly standard for the most part, cleaning, helping in the kitchen, general serving, and she made a decent living from doing her job there, though she didn't get much time to herself.

The morning started like any another, with the senior housekeeper Miss Lyons fussing at them all to get ready and start their duties. MC rolled her eyes behind her back as she put on her pinafore before heading over to the main part of the Manor.

She always enjoyed doing her cleaning duties, the Dark Academia feel to the Manor was her aesthetic and she adored looking at all the antiques around the place and the beautifully carved wood work, though she'd seen it all many times now since working there, but nonetheless, she never got tired of seeing it.

There was also another reason she liked her job there so much, and that was the Gaunts eldest son, Marvolo. The two of them would often share looks across rooms, his cheeky smirk as he'd give her glances around the house made her swoon, but of course, she knew her place in this house. The two of them rarely got chances to talk, and even if they did, it would be frowned upon, she'd get an earful from her senior if she was ever to be caught flirting or even standing around talking to him, and she was pretty certain Marvolo would get equal treatment from his parents if he was to be seen doing to the same with her.

She headed into the library room, her favourite room of the Manor, and began dusting the shelves, putting books away, making sure everything in there was tip-top. She stopped for a moment, looking at one of the books she'd picked up. Seeing it was a romance novel, she opened it up, reading for the first few lines. "Good morning" a deep voice from behind her spoke, in a panic she dropped the book, then looked over towards the door, seeing that Marvolo had wandered in, "Good morning, Sir" she bowed slightly "I was just-" before she could finish her sentence Marvolo chuckled and approached, picking up the book she'd dropped and looking at it "Dont panic so much..I don't care that you were enjoying a little reading rather than doing your job" he smirked. MC couldn't help but blush a little and let out a small nervous giggle. Marvolo handed her the book with a curious look on his face "You can borrow it, if you like..Take it back to the quarters with you" MC shook her head slightly "My senior would throw a fit if she saw me with it, she'd question where I got it from" a small frown crossed Marvolos lips "Then you tell her I let you borrow it" MC looked up at him again "I'm not even supposed to be talking to you, never mind borrowing books from you." Marvolo stepped closer to her. She'd never been so close to him before. She felt her heart race a little. "Then perhaps late in the evenings, you could sneak to my room for a couple of hours, And I could read it to you, we could make a nightly thing of it..Could be fun?" A devilish little grin curled onto his lips as he looked at her, waiting for her reaction. MC felt like she must have been as red as a tomato from hearing those words. His voice stabbed her like a knife every time she heard him talk. She whispered coyly "I'd love that..But there would be hell to pay if I got caught" Marvolo reached out, tucking a loose bit of hair that had fallen out of her bonnet behind her ear, before he whispered "The offer is there, when you have the confidence to take it" he smirked once more, he then moved away from her once they heard footsteps approaching, and made his way over to a chair in the house library room, MC quickly picked up her duster and began working on a shelf, acting like she'd been doing it for some time. Miss Lyons entered the room. "There you are!" She scowled. "What's taking so long? You're needed upstairs" MC turned to her, bowing again "Yes, Miss Lyons, apologies, I was just finishing up in here" The older woman clicked her tongue in irritation before noticing Marvolo sat looking at her from the chair "Sorry, Sir. She'll be out of your hair in a moment." Marvolo gave her a fake half smile. "No worries. She's no trouble at all. In fact, she's a very good worker, you're lucky to have her." He narrowed his eyes at the senior housekeeper "And what have you been doing today so far? Other than telling your staff what to do?" MC wanted to chuckle, but naturally she couldn't, Miss Lyons hesitated slightly before speaking "I..I was about to also make my way upstairs. To see to the bedrooms." Another fake smile "Good" Marvolo grinned. "Everyone has to pull their weight around here, wouldn't you agree?" MC could hear the badly hidden panic in her seniors voice. "Yes, Sir. Absolutely." Miss Lyons turned to MC. "Come along now, girl," she spoke before leaving the room. MC gathered her things before going to leave the room herself to head upstairs, she turned back to look at Marvolo, giving him a sweet smile, he returned her smile with a wink and another cheeky grin of his own. MC's heart fluttered as she left the room, wondering if she should take him up on his offer, thoughts crept into her mind of what they could get up to together, in the night, alone in his room.

~

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

I really love your writing a lot and I was wondering if you could write something abt Michael tying the reader up during sex

Hey, thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my writing!

So I did something that only had some light bondage in it. I am working on something that has a little more bondage, but I figured I would just upload this first story to kind of give y’all a teaser!

So, enjoy!

Reader is fem!

Minors DNI!!

Warnings: NSFW, bondage, reader can’t use hands

The sky was dark by the time you had finally made it home from visiting your friend, (F/n), from out of town. You had planned a day trip with them, going to lunch, a movie, shopping and dinner. Now, you were tired, barely able to hold back any yawns that spilled from your mouth. Seeing the familiar street names of your neighborhood, you sighed in relief when you saw your home just a few moments away. Pulling into the driveway, you sat for a minute, letting the tiredness seep into your muscles from being out and about all day.

You decided to finally switch your car off, swinging open the car door and stepping out. Deciding to bring your shopping bags in in the morning, you made a bee line directly to your front door, stepping over the threshold and into the quiet atmosphere of your home. Hanging your keys up on the hook, you made your way up the stairs, heading straight to your bedroom to get out of the clothes you had worn all day. Opening the door to your room, you took notice of your boyfriend, Michael, sitting on the bed, his guitar sitting across his lap and guitar strings strewn across the bed. He must have not noticed you, because you were able to flit around the room to grab your pajamas and make it into the bathroom without him realizing.

Standing infront of the mirror, you sighed, looking at your face that was covered in makeup. Grabbing your wipes, you began to deconstruct yourself, removing your makeup, brushing your hair out and changing your clothes. After finishing, you stepped from the bathroom, shuffling over to your side of the bed. Your boyfriend still had his guitar layed over his lap, though he had finished replacing the strings on the instrument. Michael plucked a couple of strings to make sure they were tight enough, before looking up at you and smiling fondly. He was quick to move everything out of the way, setting the extra string on the side table and setting his guitar down, leaning it against the wall. You wasted no time in settling yourself in the bed, scooching close to the tall ravenette and wrapping your arms around his still sitting from.

His hands found purchase in your hair, running his fingers through your locks and massaging your scalp gently. “Long day?” he asked softly, desperate to not break the silence too long. You didn’t respond, only nodding at his question. Michael chuckled softly, his hands continuing to run through your tresses. After a moment of this, he finally scooted down, stopping to lay down beside you. Feeling sleep coming over you, you turned so your back was pressed against his chest, one of his arms lazily snaking over you form to hold you close against him. The both of you layed there in silence, enjoying the other’s presence quietly, basking in each other’s warmths as you settled down from the day.

You were on the verge of sleep when you felt Michael’s hand begin to roam. Assuming he was just jittery, you ignored it, your eyes shutting as you attempted to sleep. That was, until the wandering hand dipped between your legs, his palm pressing against your core softly. The familiar twinge of excitement shot through your body, but you didn’t feel like you could muster the energy for your nightly activities tonight. You felt his finger press against your clit through your PJ shorts, a soft hum escaping your mouth at Michael’s actions. He set a soft, stroking pace, pressing his finger a tad harder through your clothes. You felt the all too familiar poke of his growing erection on your butt, fighting an internal battle trying to decide if you wanted this. As much as you hated deciding to stop him, you had to while he was ahead. Placing your hand over his, you gently pulled at his wrist, moving his hand away from you.

Turning over, you laid facing him. “Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up on one elbow. You nodded, eyes heavy with sleep. “I’m just sleepy.” you replied, looking at him through half lidded eyes. A smile crossed your face, adoration for the man swelling up in your chest. Michael nodded, laying back down and not pushing any further. You stared at each other for a minute, your (e/c) eyes looking into his deep brown ones. He smiled back, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. Thinking for another moment on his needs, you decided that you weren’t gonna get him excited for nothing.

“Although…,” you started, your eyes moving to his chest, bringing a hand up to trace circles over his uncovered flesh, “I could be convinced if I didn’t have to do anything.” you giggled, realizing how outlandish your thoughts were after saying them aloud. Michael smirked, watching your face as your eyes shot to his, waiting on his reaction. “I’ll be right back.” he said, standing out of the bed and walking to your shared closet. It was your turn to sit up on your elbow, watching intently as the man grabbed something from the closet, hiding it behind his back as he made his way back to the bed. You turned to lay on your back, and Michael moved the blankets off of you, crawling to sit between your legs, tucking his own beneath yours as he sat on his knees.

“Close your eyes.” he ordered. You giggled, but complied, closing your eyes. The only noise now in the room was the sound of a plastic bag opening, the creak of the bed springs, and small, questioning hums from Michael. Your eyes stayed shut, even when he had grabbed one of your wrists and tied something around it. Your arm was lifted above your head, your ears picking up the sound of a something being fastened to something else. He repeated his actions for your other wrist, before ordering you to open your eyes. Glancing up at him, you watched him throw an empty bag off to the side, then him as he admired his work. You found you couldn’t pull your arms down, your eyes snapping up to look at the red rope tied around your wrists and tethered to the headboard. “Let me know if they get uncomfortable.” he murmured, giving you no time to answer as he leaned down and caught your lips with his own.

Michael was rough in his kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth and exploring the cavern he’s come to so many times before. Your lips matched his movements, your tongue starting to battle against his. His hands roamed your body, pushing your shirt up inch by inch to uncover more of your skin. He finally reached to your breasts, gently squeezing the mounds through your clothes. You moaned into his mouth, breaking off the kiss to catch your breath. Michael continued his ministrations, pushing your shirt up to expose your breasts. He immediately focused on your nipples, his head swooping down to capture one of the rosy buds between his lips. Sucking in a sharp gasp, you struggled against your restraints, desperately trying to pull your hands free to twist your fingers into his hair. His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, his tongue swirling around your perky buds.

You didn’t take notice of his other hand until you felt your neglected nipple being rolled between his callous fingers, another moan spilling from your lips. Michael finally let go of your nipple, kissing your soft skin as he made his way to lay between your legs. In a rush, he all but tore off your bottoms and underwear, leaving your core exposed to him. The tall man slid his arms under your legs, situating himself between them on his stomach. Blowing a stream off cool air against your heat, you shivered, hands tugging at the rope once more. “Michael…” you whined, thrusting your hips up to show him that you were ready. He responded with a laugh, placing tender kisses all over the insides of your thighs, each kiss pressing closer and closer to your cunt.

Pressing one last kiss to the inside of your thigh, he finally turned his attention to your sex, swiping his tongue over your already wet slit. You released a loud moan, encouraging him to keep going. Michael complied, his tongue repeating it’s invasion on you. His tongue danced over your core. He latched onto your clit, the tip of his tongue swirling the bud as he sucked slightly, a move that had your hips rolling against his face. You moaned, curses falling from your mouth, mixed with shaky breaths and more praises for him to keep going. You pulled against the restraints, wanting so desperately to grab a handful of his hair to force him closer to you. The ropes never loosened though, and you were left tugging at the thick bonds as Michael ate you out, devouring your cunt like it was his last meal.

He released your clit, but leaving his tongue to focus on the bundle of nerves. Without warning, he pushed a finger into you, stroking your walls teasingly. After a moment, he added a second finger, curling them upwards to stroke against your g-spot. You gasped, moaning into the empty room, trying to rock your hips against his fingers. The familiar knot in your stomach was beginning to form, goosebumps raising on your flesh as Michael kept up his actions. His tongue left your cunt, leaving you whining as he sat up, his fingers only temporarily stopping their motions. He sat himself between your legs, his fingers resuming their pumping slowly into you. He leaned forward, catching your lips with his once more.

Between his hands and the taste of your own slick on his mouth, your body couldn’t handle much more of his actions. A few more steady pumps and your walls squeezed around his fingers, your hips bucking up as you rode out your orgasm. You eventually went limp, his fingers leaving your cunt as you rested from the event. He released your mouth, smiling down at your tired form. You were too busy trying to catch your breath, soon opening your eyes to stare at him. He brought his fingers to your mouth, resting them against your lips, his silent demand for you to clean your own fluids off of them. Taking them into your mouth, you never broke eye contact as your tongue swirled around his digits. Michael watched in content as you licked up your own juices, his head becoming fuzzy at the sight of your beneath him.

Against your bare core, you could feel his hardened cock through his boxers. Releasing his fingers, you grinded down on his cock, eliciting a soft groan from the man above you. He moved his hands to your hips, pressing you firmly against the bed. “You said you didn’t want to do anything. Now, behave before I tied your body down completely.” he threatened, sliding his hands to your thighs and moving to wrap your legs around his waist. He began pulling off his boxers, his cock springing up, the tip already slick with precum. Michael grabbed his erection with one hand, pumping himself a few times before directing his head against your opening. Pressing gently, he let out a delicious moan as his tip breached your cunt, the warmth enveloping him immediately.

You whined beneath him as he pushed into you, rocking your hips against him as inch by inch of his cock disappeared into you. Michael finally stopped pressing when his tip met your cervix, taking a moment to bask in your warmth before he pulled out slowly, thrusting back in quicker than the first time. He set a steady pace, hands coming to rest on either side of your body. With each thrust, it seemed like bolts of lightening were shooting your core, your skin beginning to tingle at the sensation. Your wrists were starting to get sore, the rope beginning to feel more like a hassle than anything. Tugging at the continuously, you couldn’t help the noises that you were making, jumbled words and moans coming together to make nonsensical sentences.

Michael sat back, his hands moving from beside you to find purchase on your hips, lifting them up just enough for the head of his cock to repeatedly strike against your spot. You saw stars, the words you were attempting to say fell into silence,replaced only by moans and hums. You stopped tugging at the ropes around your wrists, your body becoming too caught up in pleasure to even give a reaction. The knot began forming once again in your stomach, and you could only watch Michael’s face twist in delight as he thrusted into you, your slick providing lube for his cock to wreck your cunt. His eyes were closed, mouth open as he panted from exertion. Sweat beaded on his face, stray curls sticking to his pale skin. Groans and almost silent praises fell from his mouth, his speed picking up as he too began to reach his end.

With a few more thrusts, the knot in your stomach came undone, your walls clamping down on Michael’s length. He thrusted until he was buried inside of you, releasing his load into your spent cunt. He leaned down to kiss you, the once fervent makeouts you had diminished into soft, loving pecks. Both of your breaths steadied out, your bodies recovering from your bedroom activities. Michael sat up, slowly pulling out of you. Getting up from the bed, he walked into your bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it before returning to you. He muttered an apology, touching the cold cloth to your hot skin. You hissed, groaning at the feeling of the water against your skin. He gently cleaned your body, making sure you were situated before cleaning himself up.

Michael discarded the wash cloth off to the side, turning his attention back on you as he untied the ropes around your wrists. Your arms fell to your side, your shoulders sore from the struggle against them and their prolonged strain. Your boyfriend settled into the bed beside you, and you responded by turning to tuck your face into his chest. He slung an arm around you, burying his face into the top of your head, placing sweet kisses against your forehead every now and then. It wasn’t long before you succumbed to sleep, him following soon after.