#He doesn't know because it was Just An Animation - him Just A Ghost - but I saw it I experienced it I was there for it

[theredcuyo]

The cinnamon roll that i finally thought of how to add in the au :D

So, it was Sqq's idea (After he looked at Mobei, then at Yin Yu and asked the system "Hey, did Wuxian by a chance-"), like it tends to be, he thought how do you save a living corpse trapped in a mountain? Easy, get a necromancer!

He non suspiciously took Wwx to Buddha mountain, and hey, brother in law could you show me how your technique works out here, yk, without ghosts around that you already know? Does it work with animals?

And Wwx is like, no it doesn't, but if a corpse has enough resentment i can redirect it, then proceeds to use his flute for demonstration and bam! Wen Ning

Wwx is baffled and his brain is restarting for a few minutes (Sqq is having to fight Wen Ning in the meantime because that is a lot of energy that no one is controlling rn)

Then they take him back with them, Wwx has no time to explain his brothers what is happening ("A-Ying You did what to a corpse?!" "Dage you're not one to talk"), because he has to fix it

While he works, he asks his hubby, Lwj tells him what he already knew, the Ghost general was destroyed but then why-

Why is he here now? It's him! It couldn't not be, but then how-

When Wen Ning awakes, he tells him some of it, but however not enough, but it's fine, he's fine now, Wwx apologizes to him for what happened but Wen Ning doesn't really agree with that being his fault

Next up, he meets Wwx's brothers who take a look at him and decide nu-uh, you're not dressing like that, and get rid of the chains and give him new clothes, they tell him he's welcome to stay wherever he wants and that they'll make sure he's safe (Even if he's the Ghost general to everyone else)

But well, Wen Ning doesn't really know where to go, so he will still stay with Wwx for now, plus he can see A-Yuan now, he's very thankful to Hanguang-Jun for that but that doesn't make him more comfortable around the man

He's also not the most confortable around Senior Shen and his highness, yes, Senior Shen didn't mind fighthing him when they met, but still- They both are nice! Is just... Is just a little bit weird? They treat him like kind of cat? Like a skittish stray cat? Giving him treats (He doesn't really eat, so they changed to other things) the same time they're very careful, they don't seem very scared of him but...

You can't put them at fault, it's their first time seeing something like this, they're curious! From Xie Lian's perspective, even in his hundreds of years, he's never seen something like this before! Not only that but the way Wen Ning's body, energy and what he had of cultivation work is really interesting, the most similar thing are ghosts themselves and it's still very different, and hey, he's really good with a bow, he realized that soon, maybe even better than... Ah, he also knows medicine, isn't that ironic? For a corpse to be a doctor?

Sqq on the other hand, can't help it either, see this, Airplane? This are good ideas in a cultivation novel, you dumbass! Aside from that, it really is interesting, Wen Ning doesn't feel pain, and his body can be repaired without much fuss, he is strong, maybe too much? Could be connected to that thing he heard once about histeric strength? That it works because the pain perceptors shut down? Aiyah, if he needs to ever die again maybe he can ask Wuxian to give him a body quite like this too

[sysig]

Does this hurt? (Patreon)

Bonus:

I love surfacetable.txt <3

[cassandraclare]

Kit to Ty

Election day: misery, stress, hair-pulling, at least for Americans (and a lot of other people around the world affected by our politics!) So I thought I'd post a distraction; I hope it helps and doesn't annoy!

A while ago I posted the beginning of a letter from Kit to Ty, created for a Kickstarter backer. Here's the full text:

A letter from Kit to Ty, never sent.

Ty, Ty, Ty.

Your name looks strange written out like that. Like an abbreviation. But Tiberius would be so formal. I never think of you that way. Or, I suppose I should say, I never thought of you that way. Tenses matter in these situations, I guess.

It’s late, past midnight, and I’m sitting on the windowsill in my bedroom at Cirenworth. Jem and Tessa gave me one of the best rooms. Of course they did. It has a view out over the gardens. Sometimes I see the ghost of a dog there, a golden retriever I’m pretty sure, running in and out of the flowerbeds. He seems like a pretty happy ghost. I think about how much you like animals and how much they love you, because of course they do. But it’s too late; this dog passed away a long time ago. You probably couldn’t even see him. It’s too late for a lot of things, now.  

I’m still mad at you, and I don’t feel good about that. Maybe if I could forget, I could forgive. But I can’t forget that night you brought Livvy back. I’ll suddenly remember even when I’m thinking about something else. I’ll be in the middle of helping Tessa in the garden and suddenly I’ll turn around and I’m back in Idris. 

I remember I told you I loved you. I remember I told you I would help you, but not if you raised Livvy from the dead. Not if you did necromancy. But you wanted that more than you wanted me.

And I understand that. I’m not angry about that. Here’s what I’m angry about: when you brought Livvy back, you changed yourself. You made yourself a different person than the one I loved. I don’t know the person you are now. You took yourself away from me. I can’t forgive that. And you made me someone who has to keep a secret I never wanted to keep. I was raised by someone who had so many awful secrets, and when I started my life as a Shadowhunter I wanted to do it openly, and honestly. But now I’m just someone else with secrets I can never tell. Just like my dad.

It makes me angry, so angry. I want to yell at you. I wish you were here so I could yell at you.

Kit

[whateveriwant]

I just read your pregnant wife with 141 but that got me thinking. What about horny pregnant wife with 141

Feel free to ignore this if you feel uncomfortable writing it 

-🍱 (if it’s not taken)

I haven't written smut in ages so forgive me if I'm a little rusty. 18+ only pls and thx (vaginal sex, cunnilingus)

Soap

Hooo boy! Alrighty, here we go

So for starters, that man is PENT UP. Like seriously, he's so backed up, he thinks he can feel it all the way to his esophagus

Since you first got pregnant, it's been nothing but morning sickness, aches and pains, and a total and utter lack of desire on your part

Trust him, he's tried taking care of himself in the meantime, but it's never really gotten the job done since it wasn't with you

But once you enter your second trimester and the desire has come back, it takes everything in him not to ravage you the moment you give him the green light

Why? Well, truth be told, he's scared about potentially hurting you or the baby

You know how he can get in the sack. What if he dents the wee bairn’s poor head? He's knocking (more like pounding) right on the little one’s door after all

You have to assure him that he's not going to hurt you or the baby (and please, never refer to your cervix as a door again)

So he'll start slow and gentle at first, not wanting to be too harsh, but it won't take much to get him back to fucking you hard and rough like you're used to

He's got your knees up by your chest (or, as close as they can get) while he’s drilling into you from above, snarling like an animal

When he finally finishes, it's loudddd, slamming the headboard against the wall, and he pushes his hips as far forward as they'll go while he empties four months worth of cum inside you

Ghost

I'm so sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but you're not getting that man's cock while you're pregnant

It's not because he's overly rough when you make love normally; it's just that he's not willing to take any chances when you're in such a delicate state

However, the man is inherently a giver, so with just enough whining and begging and pleading from you, he'll oblige you to some degree

He'll stick mostly to his fingers or his mouth, maybe a toy or two if you're really needy, but he's generally going to rely solely on his own skill to get you where you want to be

He'll have you recline against a mountain of pillows while he settles himself between your legs, his arms looping around your hips to hold you still for him while he works

But he doesn't just dive right in, oh no siree. The man loves to tease you – kissing your thighs, the inside of your knee, the bottom of your belly first

He'll turn you into a pathetic little thing squirming desperately for his touch, before finally granting you mercy by giving you his tongue

He'll make you cum so hard with just his mouth alone that you'll temporarily lose all thought of that gorgeous dick of his

But afterwards, if you want to return the favor, you certainly won't hear him complaining about it

Oh but trust that the moment the doctor gives the okay after you’ve given birth, he's gonna be all over you, making sure you walk funny the next morning (and the following week after that)

Gaz

Like the other two, Gaz is concerned with potentially putting you and the baby in a dangerous position

But the man is a sucker for your puppy dog eyes, so it doesn't take much convincing to get him to take you to bed

But he still wants to be safe about it, so he researches the best positions for couples to have sex while pregnant

That's how you find yourself in his lap, naked back to his chest, as he sits in one of the chairs he dragged in from the dining room

You're bouncing on his dick, hands braced on his thighs, ass smacking off the hard plane of his lower stomach as you lift up and down

His hands on your hips are more of a placeholder than a guide as he lets you set the pace, just sitting back while you take what you need from him

It doesn't even matter if he cums or not, that's honestly the farthest thing from his mind. All he cares about is making sure you're satisfied in the end

Need him to snake his hand forward, tracing the curve of your belly down, until he's circling your clit in fast, tight motions? Gladly, love.

Your thighs may burn and your eyes may water, but there's something about this position that makes him hit so deep that it leaves you gasping for more

Ultimately, your orgasm will trigger his own (nothing gets him there faster than the sound of you cumming), and afterwards he'll help you into the bath where he'll clean and massage your aching muscles better

Price

Unlike the other three men, Price is eager to fuck you the moment you show even the smallest inkling of want

What's that? His poor baby needs him to fuck her right now? Say no more, sweetheart. Hubby's come to the rescue

That man is dicking you down anytime, anywhere he can

Just got done shopping? He'll find a deserted road to pull over on. Just stepped into the shower? Might as well kills two birds with one stone

Really, it becomes a challenge to find where in your house he hasn't had you in these last few months. The kitchen, the garage, the back porch. You name it, he's done it (multiple times, in fact)

But his favorite – oh boy, his favorite without a shadow of a doubt – is when he takes you in front of your bedroom’s full length mirror

He'll hold you up from behind, standing you both on your feet, and just watch as he fucks you nice and slow

Seeing it in profile is fun when he wants to watch his dick slide in and out of you, but he's especially fond of having you directly face the mirror

There's just something about getting to watch you – that pretty face, those juicy tits, that fucking delectable rounded belly – that makes him blow his load faster than a damn rocket launch

With the number of times he's had you like this, you swear, that man of yours is trying to knock you up a second time (But shhhh. Quiet now. Don't go giving him any bright ideas, sweetheart.)

[gloomwitchwrites]

okay okay so boys coming home off a deployment that was long ASF and they just want a hot shower, hot meal (maybe a cuppa) and some cuddles from their wifey and their wee baby. they come through the door weary and tired and oh! it’s right after bath time and baby’s all wrapped up in a fluffy animal bath towel. maybe it’s a little oversized on them (even though we KNOW these men produce 99th percentile babes) idk i just know their hearts would warm at the sight

okay. okay okay okay. Anon, you're giving me brain worms. You're making my ovaries tingle and my desire to reproduce rage so bad I want to chew on something (so like, how dare you??)

It's entirely possible that you sent this in for the imagines series (and I'll totally add it to the masterlist just in case), but I just need to ramble about this. I need to TALK about this.

Also, do y'all know that my inbox isn't just for requests? Because I'm a yapper when it comes to the written word. I do not know how to shut up.

Dad!141 ahead

(mdni for brief suggestive themes)

John Price is coming home and going full in on those snuggles. He wants wifey in one arm and baby in the other. He'll take those snuggles on the sofa, the bed, or the floor. Doesn't matter. All he wants is to be close to his family. After snuggling, that man is putting baby to bed on his own. In fact, Price insists that he does. It's a treat for him, especially since he's been gone and hasn't had the opportunity. He's missed being a father. And the hot shower? Wifey is taking that shower with him. The man is so handsy, it's likely he's making baby number two right then and there.

Simon "Ghost" Riley is kissing wifey first the moment he walks through the door. That's the love of his life. That's the mother of his child(ren). That's his best friend. Then, it's baby. The balaclava comes off once Simon comes home. It's his safe space. While he's eager to be alone with his woman, spending some quality time with his spouse and baby is more important. He's making that cuppa and settling for a brief snuggle on the sofa with the both of them. He wants to hold his wife, talk with her, enjoy his cuppa, and play with his kiddo before it's their bedtime. Afterwards? Full intimacy with wifey. In the shower? Check. While getting ready for bed? Check. In bed and most of the night? Check and check.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is going to come home and admire his wife and baby for a bit. They aren't going to know he's standing there. Wifey is rocking baby in the nursery, and Kyle is just there in the doorway, happy to be home, to return to the daily humdrum of life. He's not going to realize just how much he missed them until that very moment. This man is the definition of healthy masculinity. He's not afraid to show emotion when he goes in for that first embrace. He completely softens with his family. Endless patience. Endless love. This man loves being a husband and father.

John "Soap" MacTavish is going in for a bear hug. He's wrapping them both up in his arms at the same time. Wifey gets kisses. Baby gets kisses. Soap is absolutely snuggling with baby for a bit, pretending to chew on toes and fingers, basically trying to get every adorable giggle he can out of his child before they go down for bed. Does this rile baby up a bit and make it a little difficult to calm them down for bedtime? Sure, but it's totally worth it for him. Afterwards, his one focus is on his wife.

masterlist

[writersdrug]

I need the bartender Simon having to escape upstairs for a few minutes just to control the monster in his pants just because of a more direct provocation from the reader

I was saving this ask and I think this is the perfect moment after Simon sees reader in his shirt, no?

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, sex toy, pining, daydreaming about p in v sex

He doesn't dare go up to his room - even after the bar is closed, after you and Johnny are both gone, after his tasks are complete. His mind has been scrambled ever since you came down in his shirt, looking like you'd just woken up from having a nap in his bed. He knew that wasn't the case, but it was so easy to pretend. You made it easy, looking like wearing his shirt was just your typical Friday outfit. If he tried hard enough, sitting at the bar after hours, sipping on an Old Fashioned- he could imagine you were up there right now, lying stomach-first in his bed, wearing his shirt, with "LT RIELY" on your back - you weren't objective, he certainly doesn't think of you like that - but having his claim on you aroused the most primal part inside him. If only you could see what you've done. Did you even know it?

Price comes lumbering down the stairs. Simon doesn't bother to look at him; he sits at the bar, his Old Fashioned long gone, with an empty whiskey glass and the mostly-full bottle next to him. He was hoping to replace the thought of you with drinking, but he didn't have the stomach for it.

"I'm plannin' to see if Garrick wants to join the team." Price says, shrugging on his jacket. "I know he wanted to be his own man, but we could use him. Our girl's made this place quite popular."

Simon wants to spit out the words he'd just heard. Our girl. Whose girl? John's? Soap's? The entire pub? It was his name on your back. Not Price. Not MacTavish. He was the one you came to with all those receipts, numbers scribbled in the margins, trusting him to help you ward them off. Sure, you have fun with everyone, asking them all for help - but you go to him the most easily, whenever you need to feel safe. Bad customers, bad situations - you looked to him. Didn't that mean anything to Price?

He doesn't respond to his captain, choosing to stare at his empty glass instead. Price looks at him quizzically.

"Feelin' alright, there?"

Simon grunts. "Long day."

Price knows he's bullshitting him. He knows exactly what this is about. He sighs, pulling his beanie on and tucking the money pouch into his jacket. "If you want 'er, Simon, tell me to back off. Can't read your mind."

That has him pursing his lips, grip tight around the sides of his glass. He would have punched John, was he any other man. He knows exactly what Simon's thinking, yet he makes him work for it. Typical. His pride and his jealousy are fighting tooth and nail against each other, but he can barely say a word.

Price stands there a moment, waiting for Simon to speak - but he doesn't even spare the owner a glance. Bastard's always punishing himself... he thinks, sighing again.

"Bright and early tomorrow, lad." He says, heading towards the kitchen. "Lights off when you're done here." He knows Simon's capable of closing, but he repeats it every night regardless.

"Sir."

Price stops, halfway through the kitchen door. He looks at Simon, who's now staring directly back at him. There's a look in his face, something that reminds him of Ghost - the reason he became his right-hand man.

"Respectfully..." he says slowly. "Back off."

Price almost finds it comical. Like an animal staking its claim, staring at its rival - except they’re not rivals. The only reason Simon is bothering to play his captain's game, asking for permission to have what Price would happily hand over, is because he's his superior. Even if they're all retired from the SAS, no one ever really dropped the dynamics of the team.

He smiles, nodding his head once. "Understood." He says, shoving himself through the kitchen door. "But hurry up and say somethin' to 'er. I'm sick of you losing your mind during the rush."

With that, Simon hears him leave through the back door. He stays there for a moment, his mind reeling - he feels both satisfied and angry at the same time. It was a bit humiliating to tell Price to leave you for himself - you don't belong to him. But that was a problem he was going to fix. You had his name on your back-

For Christ’s sake, he’s got to give it a rest. You wore his shirt, that was all. You wore it – with no bra. Bare. Naked underneath the 141’s insignia, under his title.

And that damn bra is still in his room.

He can’t take it anymore. He unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a few swigs, before slamming it back onto the bar top. He leaves the bottle and the glass there as he gets up, making his way across the floor, up the stairs, passing the office, and continuing up to his studio flat.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If you’d gone snooping, you either did a good job of hiding the evidence, or you didn’t really rifle through too much. His bed was untouched, his books and items where he had put them last – he goes into his drawers, checking to see if you had gone through anything other than his shirts. Considering everything is still where it should be, he assumed not. Though you did leave a mess in his shirt drawer – you’d been digging around in there until you found his old SAS shirt. Did you mean to do that? Were you looking for something with his name on it, just to drive him insane?

He goes back into his top drawer, muttering a curse as he pushes the contents aside. His cock is pulsing in his pants as he grabs his pocket pussy, slamming the drawer shut and heading towards his bed. He doesn't want to draw this one out - this is nothing more than a wank, just to get you out of his head. He sits at the foot of his bed and unbuttons his jeans, pulling his hard length out of his briefs – it bounces up and slaps against his abdomen, precum already smeared across the tip. He’s been hard for hours now, trying not to cum in his pants at the thought of your tits rubbing against the inside of his shirt. Do you have small, pebbly nipples? Or ones that are soft and pliant? He growls as he smears the tip of his cock against the lips of the toy, rubbing up and down the slit. He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You’re there, rubbing your lips on his cock, your hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as you stare up at him, licking and kissing his tip like a good girl…

He scowls and opens his eyes, sitting upright – he sees your bra hanging off the back of his chair, and he nearly passes out form how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. Pink lace, delicate and kinda skimpy… and your shirt, crumpled on the seat of the chair. You’d forgotten to shove them into your bag before you left. Or did you do this on purpose?

He's reaching out before he realizes it, slowly standing up and heading towards the chair. He wants to grab your bra, rub his cock in it until he stains it with his thick cum – but something in the back of his mind keeps him from touching it. One, it’s purely you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. Two, he’s trying to cum. Not to cum to you. He’s doing this to get rid of your image in his head.

So, he goes for the next best thing. He grabs your shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He lines himself up with his fleshlight and brings your shirt to his face; no wonder the drinks had turned it translucent, it was the thinnest fabric he had ever felt. Practically skin.

He presses it against his face and inhales: the scent of you, sweet, floral and spicy, fills his mind. It makes it all to easy to imagine that you’re sinking down onto his cock, and not that he’s stuffed it as far as he can into the toy. He groans, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pumps his hips once, then again… the tightness of the fleshlight slides over him easily, offering no resistance with the precum acting as a lube while he grinds up into it, heat knotting in his gut. The waist of his jeans hugs his thighs as he slowly and steadily pulses towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths of your scent.

He feels like an animal. Dirty, cheap, and desperate. He has to remind himself that it’s not about you, it’s about having a good wank and getting you out of his head. He drops your shirt on his chest and uses his free hand to cup his balls, groaning as he massages them. The schlick of the fleshlight around his dick is loud, the sensation borderline painful as he quickly fucks into it, curses spilling past his lips as he slams the thing down to the base of his length, catching on the Jacob’s ladder piercing on the underside, then back to the tip.

He shouldn’t, but he lets his mind slip elsewhere. What would you be doing? Would you have your hands on his chest, lips parted in a moan as you drop your hips onto his thighs, your cunt dripping and squeezing around his member…? What are you doing now? Are you still wearing his shirt? Are you lying back on your bed, playing with your breasts under the fabric and using your other hand to toy with your pussy? What do you sound like? Are you saying his name, or can you make any sound at all?

He falls back against the bed. “Fuck fuck fuck-“ he mumbles. He’s caught himself in a trap here – he can’t allow himself to indulge in the thought of you, begging him to take your hips and buck up into you – but it’s impossible to get you out of his head. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d be able to cum without you. He squeezes his fist around the fleshlight, groaning loudly from the pain, trying to drown out the sounds of your moans in his head… you’re always there, ever present, leaning over him and whimpering in his ear, need you, Simon, wanna cum on your cock, want it inside-

It's all too much for him, but not enough. He turns himself over, climbing up to his knees on the bed. He props himself up on his forearm, holding the fleshlight with his other hand as he ruts into it, stuffing his cock in as far as it will go, until the lips are smashed against the base. He pants and groans, mouth hanging open as he hovers over the bed; over you, holding one of your thighs up, touching his forehead against yours, watching as you’re covered in a layer of sweat, tits bouncing with each violent thrust of his hips. Both wrists secured above your head with one of his meaty hands, whimpers and whines spilling from your mouth as you struggle to remain coherent. Your cunt swallows him greedily, hugs him tightly, pulses around him, coaxes him to pound into you harder and harder, your walls twitching as slick gushes around him, your fingers digging into the back of his hand as you cry out his name, “Simon, Simon, Simon”-

He hisses through his teeth as his balls seize up, his abdomen going taut and his dick twitching in the toy. He rips the fleshlight off and grabs your shirt without a second thought, wrapping it tight around his cock and pumping it. “Gonna cum, gonna cum- fuck- oh, fuck-!” He mumbles to no one as his orgasm is ripped from him, hips canting repeatedly as cum spurts into the fabric of your shirt, leaking out around his thighs as he thrusts into it, thighs aching from the exertion. He bites into his hand and growls as he continues rutting, fighting through the overstimulation to chase what remains of his high – but he soon collapses on the bed, huffing and groaning into the mattress.

His orgasm fades slowly, his heart ramming against his ribcage and the fog clearing from his head. Realization sinks in as he’s hyper-aware of your shirt, still wrapped around his dick, now soaked in his cum. He'd have to wash it, now. Filthy doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels, but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He rolls onto his side, clutching your shirt in his hand. Fuck. One quick tug was all this was supposed to be, and now, he’s picturing you lying across from him. Face flushed, lips swollen and eyes hazy, smiling at him and panting. Telling him you love him. He’d say it back a million times. Listening as you breathe, as you talk about your silly little ideas for the pub, for redecorating his room… craving the moment where you drag yourself closer to him and snuggle into his chest for the rest of the night.

He hasn’t gotten rid of you, like he hoped for. He’s only made it more clear: he wants you. He wants his life to be threaded with yours, he wants to wake up next to you, he wants you to change his routine, to pick up his broken pieces and make a mosaic – and he wants to be there when you need someone, he wants to give you everything you want and more, whether that’s a life up in the clouds or down here, in his arms, in his small bed and lackluster apartment. You’d make it better; you’d make anything better.

He sighs, slowly sitting up and on the edge of the bed. Price was right – he’s got to hurry up and say something to you, or else he’ll be drowned in his obsession. You’d either agree to take this fucked-up giant on a date and end his misery, or you’d reject him, and he could force you from his thoughts and replace you with misery. It’s worked before.  

He pulls off his jeans and shirt and grabs the fleshlight, standing with a grunt and walking into his bathroom. He’s planning to clean the toy, but if he waits long enough, he might just be fucking it again in the shower.

[deikshen]

The Amnesiac Ghost King Shen Yuan who wakes up in his territory surrounded by bestiaries, shadow demons loyal to him, animal skins, with a fateful feeling of loss and... he has a wife? He knows he has a wife! Well, a man-wife? Just by looking at a couple of his maids he is convinced that his wife cannot be a woman.

He have to find his wife! Husband. Spouse? In fact, he has forgotten almost everything except his own name and the fact that he is dead and is a ghost king, so with the covert help of his servants, he manages to leave and sets out on a quest. He has to find his beloved!!

... It's difficult when he doesn't even know what he's really looking for. He is a little disappointed, but suddenly, he hears disturbances in a forest. There is a fight between a beautiful man and a wild beast. Oh! He sees him, he recognizes him! His wife!!

He claps his hands in the air, stopping the beast's attack; the beast quickly scurries away, afraid that it has disrespected Shen Yuan. The man dressed in noble elegance and a zuiyin on his forehead looks at him, annoyed, but Shen Yuan doesn't even notice him as she hugs him.

"Oh, wife!" Shen Yuan says. He feels him for wounds. He is strong, he knows it! But still, he's irrationally worried. Just because he was strong didn't mean he couldn't be hurt, and that would be horrible!! "It's been a while. This husband of yours asks for forgiveness. Some creature ate his memories, but I have found you. This husband of yours would recognize his wife anywhere, no matter how many memories they take from me. Is my wife safe?"

Shen Yuan misses the chaotic array of emotions on Luo Binghe’s face. Confusion turns to doubt, doubt to shock.

"Husband" he says, the voice a little strangled, and Shen Yuan only squeezes him tighter in his arms.

"There, there," he consoles, dragging Luo Binghe's head down, towards his neck, to hug him and brush his hair there. What a lovely wife of his, letting himself be pampered so well. "Everything will be okay, you've been a good boy in my absence, I can guess that. How would you be anything else? So beautiful. So strong."

Shen Yuan keeps showering his wife with pampering, sweet words. He feels that he must say all that! It is necessary! It is necessary for his wife to know!!

His wife - Luo Binghe, provides his mind, and Shen Yuan is pleased to remember that as well - lets himself be hugged and adored. Shen Yuan hugs him and takes care of him until he feels he can detach himself a little to cover his face with tender and sweet kisses. So adorable!

Finally, when the reunion leaves them calmer, Shen Yuan is satisfied to go eat somewhere and then begin the hunt for the monster that ate his memories. He is definitely dying to remember more about his beloved!

... His loving wife doesn't seem to find it all that necessary. Long days of irreverent flirting, wet kisses, and groping in wooded corners pass by. The hunts turn into hot sessions of kisses, moans, a little more desire here and there. Shen Yuan rides his wife with joy and satisfaction. His wife lets him kiss, suck and spoil him as if it were the only thing that gave him happiness in the world.

Neither he nor his wife can keep their hands to themselves. His wild groping ruins the chances of hunting the beast that ate Shen Yuan's memories more than once. In the end, Shen Yuan can't be upset with his anxious wife, though he pushes out his frustration by pushing him against a tree and taking him standing there, making his needy wife cry with pleasure.

When they finally hunt down the beast, before Shen Yuan can regain his memories, his wife is hesitant. He asks Shen Yuan not to be too angry with him. Shen Yuan has no idea why he would be angry. He loves his wife. Nothing would make him angry with his beloved wife.

... The next morning brings back memories for Shen Yuan. It brings back to Shen Yuan not only the memories of the desperate papapa from the previous night, but all of his damn memories. His transmigration. His second death. Becoming a ghost despite everything!! Rising up the ghost food chain to become a ghost king!!! Take over his own territory by raising beasts and creatures! Stand back from Binghe's growing empire so as not to be overthrown!

And now, what the fuck?! Why did he think of the protagonist as his wife?! Why would the mighty Emperor Luo Binghe agree to that?!

Why would he think he doesn't like women anyway?! He's so damn straight!! But all that... papapa with the protagonist... damn...

Luo Binghe enters the inn room without knocking. He has breakfast in his hands and a soft expression on his face. Shen Yuan feels so guilty that his stomach feels twisted.

"My Lord, this humble one is so sorry, I shouldn't have assumed..." he starts.

Luo Binghe blinks at him… confused?

“Who Lord?” he asks, his voice extremely soft. The expression on his face, soon, looks so betrayed that it seems he is going to cry. “Was my husband expecting someone else?”

Shen Yuan blinks once. Twice. What the fuck.

Oh, he suddenly thinks. They must have been careless and now Luo Binghe's memories had been eaten by another beast. Ah, crap. That would make sense, considering that, uh, after killing the beast and releasing those memories, well, uh, the heavenly pillar had been inside of him for a long time, so, uh... distracted. Very distracted.

"Oh no, sweetheart, this husband got confused" Shen Yuan says as quickly as he can. "Come to bed. Are you okay? What's the last thing you remember?"

Luo Binghe blinks his sweet eyes, and walks over to the bed. He carefully puts down the tray before snuggling up next to Shen Yuan, as if he weren’t taller, stronger, and more powerful than him.

"This wife only remembers his husband," Luo Binghe said, sighing. "And he doesn't think there's anything else important to remember."

Shen Yuan strongly disagrees. Luo Binghe, don't you have a huge harem and a fucking empire to run!? Lots of important things to remember there!!

"It's fine," he hums. "We will have breakfast and go hunting. My wife deserves his memories back."

Luo Binghe nods, a happy sound coming from his mouth. Shen Yuan sighs and kisses his cheek, because he's supposed to think he's his wife, and ah, he's not going to treat him badly now, right? And Luo Binghe looks happy and sounds happy and Shen Yuan could enjoy that a little bit more. He'll have his crisis later.

They will hunt down that beast, recover Luo Binghe's memories, and then he will never see him again. Eh. If he survives Luo Binghe's fury for subjecting him to these humiliations. Damn.

...

(In fact, Luo Binghe has not lost any memories.

In fact, he just wants to convince this beautiful ghost who treats him so well to stay by his side longer. He will do whatever it takes! Hadn't Shen Yuan wanted a wife? He will give him a perfect wife now! A wife so perfect that even with his memories back, he will never want to leave him!!)

[neonovember]

bucky barnes as a husband headcanon!

heavily inspired by my steve headcanons here, I wanna try my hand at writing more of james. he is the epitome of devotion, he falls first and falls hard.

this kind of takes part in an alternative au (think avengers are still together but its post the falcon and the winter soldier)

he is canonically good at cunnilingus

you think I’m joking? This man divulges into a rabid animal the second he gets close to your thighs. He is on his knees whilst your pressed up against the counter rubbing his face against your clothed crotch moaning and grinding in the air

he says if he could have gotten a taste of you while he was the winter soldier it would've required his brain and reversed the brainwashing

’to be alone with you’ - hozier is bucky’s song

like steve, he feels the isolation and ghost-like feeling of being lost in time. Brooklyn doesn't feel like home anymore, he constantly reaches for you, even in sleep because you are the thing he now belongs to.

you can never get used to how intense bucky just..stares at you. Every single moment of the day you'll just catch him watching you silently not saying a word. It wasn't creepy, no it had this protective almost darkness to it that was all consuming. At one of Tony’s parties, he’s watching you across the room with a glass in his hand or mysterious and shit. (probably thinking about when is a polite time to leave)

which is never because bucky just drags you both out of every gathering. Every goodbye is an Irish one

man bun bucky. That’s it.

lets you cut his hair when it gets to the point of covering his eyes. Sometimes his stubble too, thumb circling and grazes your thigh as you lean over him with a scalpel.

most of the team are still gobsmacked at how bucky justs..trusts you. Whether it be with a shaving, or jumping out of a corner. If any of the team tried to pull a knife on bucky he would probably (not) accidentally break their jaw

after missions all the Avengers know he’ll be offline for at least a couple days to be with you. What they don’t discuss is half of those days are fucking you bruised. He gets all pent up and irritated when he isn’t around you, it’s like you recalibrate his mood back to baseline regular bucky when he can finally sink into you.

doll, darlin’, honey

if you think steve is possessive…just exponentiate that to the power of 10 and you have husband bucky. Are we forgetting this man used to be the winter soldier? he's cute and adorable but also can be fucking horrifying. I’m talking blank face breaking a mans jaw cause he looked at you funny

very casual in his superhuman abilities to protect you. 

silky dulcet notes of etta james, the album sam had gifted you both playing as you cut up some root vegetables. It’s summer and the night is long and warm, and you and bucky are humming as you prepare dinner. You're twirling your hips, Bucky is leaning against the countertop, half trussing the chicken and the other watching you when he suddenly stops. You don't notice it at first, until he cocks his head to the side, kind of blinks and moves to turn the saucepan on low. You turn to him, and he grabs for one of the kitchen knives on the bench before reaching for you.

"there's someone in the backyard"

all nonchalant, like it had been a burrowing animal stuck under the floorboards. he motions for you to continue, turns up the record player a bit and walks into the backyard without a sound.

this man is touch starved, of course he is cock warming after. each and every time.

one of the things bucky loved about you is at ease he felt, he could talk to you and spill everything out in a way he never could with dr raynor or even steve.

there was a bit of distance from him when he first met you, he was awestruck, even more silent than he usually was. Just stared at you longingly, standing off to the side. he didn’t think he could be anything but feared, it genuinely got to the point where you thought he didn't like you or that you had done something wrong. when steve had told him this, he nearly died. no, i'd like to think he's heart stopped for a couple seconds seriously. than got up from fainting, took you aside, and kissed you against the back of sarah's backyard door on the fourth of july.

stations a few target practice posts in your backyard. teaches you how to shoot, chest pressed up against your back as he helps move your body in the right position. always make sure you know where the weapons are in the house

singing to records whilst he's cleaning said weapons at the table

takes you to all the places still standing he remembers in Brooklyn, you hold his hand and let him rest against your shoulder when the past gets caught in his throat.

Steve finds a place in the city with actual good music, where people actually dance, and it becomes your spot every Friday.

yeah, one thing bucky remembers would be his muscle memory of the dance floor, he’s goooood. Teaches you everything he knows in your kitchen of course, always ends up with you making out on top of each other though

dry humping like teenagers, bucky with his low hanging jeans, not wearing boxes and making a mess just from the taste of your mouth

actually, sometimes breaks down in tears when he realises you’re his wife. Like forever.

always thinking about you, what you're doing, if you've eaten. even if hes in the middle of recon you will be in the back of his mind.

leans over and loops his dog tags around your neck whenever he leaves for missions. kisses your eyelids when your sleeping and the fight calls him

the second time you and bucky visited Wakanda he had Shuri craft the ring to be fused into his vibranium finger..yeah I know.

bucky isn’t the extroverted talking type, but with you he is constantly just yapping..about anything and everything. Following you around the house like a puppy, coming to you for the answers about the new world and questions he always harboured even before the ice

bucky is hilarious, he's already an adonis, but he could laugh you of your pants

can’t bear fighting with you, he never yells. He just kind of goes quiet and takes a walk

you guys live in a house with a huge backyard and a wraparound porch

loves cooking, lets him turn his mind off sometimes and make you something hearty and warm. he has a frilly gingham patterned apron he wears and his curls are wrapped into a bun with your scrunchie. floor always ends up on his cheek, and you always end up on the kitchen bench with his mouth on you

night terrors had him sleeping in a sleeping bag next to the bed, he refused despite your attempts. Sometimes he'd wait till you fell asleep against him and make the heartbreaking quiet separation and sleep on the floor

sometimes likes to take of his arm around the house, especially sleeping. Keeps it near in case though, for you.

he’s thick everywhere…took an hour of foreplay minimum to get you ready for him. You both will never get used to each other, needing to take a moment of hushed gasps and groans when he first sinks in

the wedding was in Sams backyard in Delacroix, just Sam, Sarah, the kids and Yoshi and the team

fairylights wrapped around the spanish moss of hanging trees, soft jazz and hard liquor. Sarah’s seafood boil and a dance floor where bucky spends half the night with you there

dad!bucky on the other hand..now that is a different ballpark. wait no actually, just him when you're both expecting. let's not forgot when he stormed into the tower and broke through the office doors to ask why on earth tony had scheduled him a mission so close to the birth of your baby, tossing him his phone which was now crumbled heap of metal in the shape of his fists....(you were two weeks along)

[star-suh]

When the Nerd’s a Fuckboy

Jake Sim x Male Reader

an: just realized part of this fic is similar to the minho bit in the week of wonders one so forgive me for recycling material 😭😭

—

yn has been failing his math subject on college, “why the fuck did i choose this degree when i hate maths so much” he cried in the shoulders of his friend sunghoon, “because you are a dumbass” he replied unfazed. “ugh.. whatever” yn blurted out while holding his chest, showing to his friend how much his words hurted him. “instead of being here crying, why won’t you ask one of your classmates, the most intelligent perhaps, to help you with the subject?”.

“hmm the smarter one… who’s the smarty pants in my class?” yn was lost into thinking about it that sunghonn thought he was simply dissociating, “oh fuck no, IT’S JAKEE!!” he yelled making everybody who’s passing by to turn their heads towards the pair of friends, sunghoon covering his eyes with his hand, “the fuck” he murmured embarrased. “sorry by the way but i can’t ask him to help me”, yn exclaimed, “why?” the other asks. “he’s just too scary to approach, he’s a smart guy but he gives off bad boy vibes like a fuckboy”.

“well that sounds off, how can a nerd be a fuckboy. aren’t you just overreacting yn?” sunghoon says with curiosity in his voice, “accompany me to the classroom, you'll see him there”.

“fuck he does give those vibes ynnie, he for sure likes it rough”, “oh my god sunghoon shut up” yn's face lit up in a shade of red, “go to your classroom pervert”. sunghoon waves a goodbye while laughing his ass off. “is he like that?” yn murmurs in a low voice when entering the classroom. 

minutes passed and yn was indecisive if talking to jake or not, the idea sunghoon implanted on his brain not leaving him alone, it's like a ghost coming time to time to haunt him. jake is such a hot guy that everyone who sees him from afar would think he's the bully of the class but they get surprised when they see how he's so nerdy. “h-hi” yn greeted jake, “hello” he greets back while still eyeing the notes written on his notebook, “i was wondering if you umm… could help me with math” yn’s whole body still, nervousness taking over his body. “why should i do that?” jake asks making yn gasp in surprise, if he was in an animated comedy he surely would be animated like a piece of glass shattering. he tries to laughs the awkwardness off, “you're the top student and i really.. really need to pass it with good grades”, “not convincing enough” he replied immediately. ‘fuck why does he has to be like that’ he thought and seeing there's no other way to convince him he took a desperate measure. he pulled his jeans right above his knees so he can bend them properly and kneel in front of jake, clasping his hands together he then proceed to say, “please help me, i beg. i’ll give you anything in return”.

something was awoken in jake, seeing yn kneeling in front of him, with those pouty lips and cock sucking eyes. he needs to have more of that, he needs to take yn. no, he has to ruin yn. jake was one of those smarty pants boys with a high libido so his hornyness was at max level every day, this can be proven when seeing his phone full of dating apps and how almost everyone in the classroom was head over heels for him knowing how good he was in bed, hell, even some teachers and staff members of the college were like that from him, truly a nerdy manwhore. so naturally he has to ruin yn expeditiously.

“anything?” jake asks, his tone laced with lust and depravity but yn wasn't as dumb as he looked like, he knew exactly what jake was asking for but nonetheless he decided ro play that game too.

“yes anything please” he keep on with that act because at the end of the day he's gonna learn something and will enjoy it too so it was a win-win to him but oh boy he doesn't know what's coming to him.

—

“what's the answer?” jake's bangs sticked to his forehead due to the sweat, the frame of his glasses falling off of his nose bridge but he quickly fixes it, he licks his lips “answer me slut” the sound of the spank echoed in the room, his hand imprinted on yn's butt cheek, who was sitting on the other's dick with his back facing jake.

“i-i don't rememberrr” yn gasped, letting his sweaty and marked body fall to the floor but with jake's meat still inside him, the nerd has been obliterating his hole the past hour. everytime he messes up one of the 10 questions on the sheet, jake punishes him and made him start again but with a new sheet of questions. “i won't be able to focus if you keep hitting my prostate” yn whimpers. “or you're just messing up because you love my dick stretching this pussy. even a high schooler could resolve this sheet in 15 minutes” jake pulls out his dick and quickly replaces them with his digits. four of them entering at once on the gaping pink hole, smeared in saliva and lube. “or maybe you're just dumb as a fucking rock” the top adds.

yn's head rests on the floor, no strenght left in his body, a pool of drool forming on the floor, “at least give me a kiss” he pouted, “i don't kiss my hook ups” the nerd replied.

“commme onnn~” jake slaps yn's cheek, “four fingers were enough for you to get fucked dumb?”, “n-n..noo~... i just need to-” he was cut off when jake put his fingers on his mouth, “ah ah ah ah ah.. you can't get distracted dumbslut but i'll let it pass this time. meanwhile i think on something to help you keep tasting your boypussy juices”.

jake's dick slid up and down on top of the other's pulsating hole, the burning friction making it shiver in pleasure as if it's asking for more, “hungry pussy” he blurted out, “haven't had one like that for so long”.

“jake pleashee~ help me with thish and then you c-can fu-fuck me all you wanttt~” yn tried to convince jake so he can rest a little but to no avail, “or i'll fuck you right now and then we study” he slaps his tip on top of the hole, then introduces only that part and starts whiping his dick with his hand, the vibration provoking squelching sounds that were like music foe jake's ears, “god how much i love a wet pussy”. “ish not a pusshyy~” yn talks back and it's received with another harsh spank, his ass bright red already, “it's a pussy, my pussy now” jake slams himself onto yn drawing a loud cry from the bottom, “FUCKK!! sho big~”, yn's eyes rolles back and his tongue was out, “look at you, all dumb over my cock”.

jake pulls yn towards him, locking him with his arm around his neck, bulging veins decorating that pretty skin. the headlock wasn't that hard but it has the right amount of pressure to choke yn. the dizziness making him squirm and by consequence it made his hole grip hard jake's dick. “holy fuck, i'm gonna nut in this boypussy” jake grunted, pistoning his hips faster and harder completely ruining that gaping hole.

“fill me up. fill me up” yn begged, jake’s dick throbbing inside him sending waves of pleasure throughout his body, “fill thish pusshy up. to the brimmm~”. the slurred words plus the beggin made jake's dick twitch, his thrusts becoming sloppier, an in an impulsive act he brings yn’s face towards him to kiss him –breaking his 'rule’–, his tongue eager to explore inside yn's oral cavity. in one of those sloppy thrusts he hit yn's sweet spot so hard that it made him orgasm right there –cumming hands free– the white liquid spilling over his body and then running down his shaft to drip on top of jake's balls.  jake spurted his spooge inside, riding his high while still buried on yn with a few more thrusts. he then let go of the headlock letting the other catch some breath. jake let's himself fall to the floor and yn plopped on top of him, tired he closed his eyes, while being caressed by jake's soothing heartbeat sound.

“what the-” yn woke up, scared. was that all a dream? he was asking himself mentally, “no, it wasn't a dream, get ready ‘cause we need to finish this sheet” jake said with a monotonous, cold voice, completely different at the beast who rearranged his guts moments ago, ‘what the fuck can he read minds now?’ yn thought, furrowing his eyebrows and his eyes narrowing at the nerdy boy. “i can't read minds, you're just predictable”.

“fuck you” yn started to mumble curses towards the other while going to the bathroom limping. jake just stares at him, his usually calm and cold expression changes to a smirk inmediately afterwards, he then fixes his glasses and direct his stare towards the piece of paper in front of him, licking his lips in the process.

[youronlydarlin]

warning: Sex pollen :), noncon/dubcon, some of them are mean on this one, horny desperate men going insane for your hole, not proofread 😭

Jus' over here havin thoughts about sex pollen infecting your favorite boy man

Finding yourself in the middle of a botched mission, you desperately try to open the door that separates you from your lover. You can hear him hacking, n coughing on the other side. N'd your sweet soul's nearly crying at the thought of what's happening to him. Is he dying !? Pink gas escapes from under the door and you don't even have the time to react before it suddenly opens.

Captain John Price who tries keep some of his composure. You must commend him for it, really. But you turn around to see if the coast's still clear and that's all it takes for his composure to break. Before you knew it you're being lifted into the air. Back pressed tightly against your Captain's chest while he holds you up with the back if your knees. He's got you in a full nelson :( And all of a sudden there's a knife in his hands. You cry out at the thought of what he could do to you but you're silenced the moment he uses it to rip an opening through your trousers, all the while he's rutting against your ass, cause he's just so pent up. Oh, you have to understand!

His dick is inside of you the moment it's freed. Tries to be considerate about it, gives you a few seconds to adjust before he's drilling into you with wild abandon. Fucks you so deep, there's a bulge in your tummy and spots in your vision. Sinks to the floor with you the moment he cums, holding you close to his chest and trying to come up with a decent enough explanation.

Simon "Ghost" Riley who let's out a loud grunt before falling on top of you. The impact makes your head spin, and it momentarily knocks the wind out of your lungs. His body crushes yours beneath the concrete floor and you don't have time to recover before the feeling of phantom hands start to roam your body. And you can no longer blame it on your fall, because your trousers are being ripped away by rough gloved hands.

Poor, little, you can't even object when he wrestles you into a mating press :( Shoving two of his thick digits inside of you with no warning. He's moving them in a scissoring motion, and you cant help but cry at the dry, and painful insertion. He's so mean!

"Shhh, puppy... 'I need this..." Doesn't even say please! Doesn't even give you a warning before the mushroom tip of his cock is breaching past your entrance. It's definitely way thicker than his fingers, and a lot more harder to get used to. He uses your bunched up knees as leverage to fuck you deeper, n deeper till your pretty eyes roll to the back of your skull.

He sounds like an animal when he cums. Growling pure filth to your ear while he grinds his dick inside you. Ready for a round 2?

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish who doesn't even wait. He was already hard as a fucking rock, hearing your cute voice cry out for him on the other side of the door. But now that it's opened, the only thing in his mind is dicking you down till your addicted to his cock.

Very impatient. You're literally like a ragdoll to him and he jus' manhandles you so you're face down, ass up :(

Shoves his fingers in your mouth while pulling your trousers down. He eats you out like a man starved. Like this was going to be his first, and last meal. Not a moment later and he's bullying your hole with his fat cock. Babbling nonsense about how fucking tight you are and how he's "waited to do this for so long". But he cums, and he cums deep.

The definition of painting your insides white.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick who looks like he's in so much pain. Unlike the other boys he tells you not to get close. He's not right in the head, can't you see that?? But you're sweet. Too sweet, and he wonders if you taste just the same. He's wetting his lips before knows it. He feels terrible. Eye fucking you while you're just trying to get him to talk about what's happening. Is he ok? He's not dying, is he? Tell me where it hurts, please.

You fret over him, and he's never felt such embarrassment in his life before. He feels bad, looking down at the massive tent in his pants. But he feels worse when he's pushing you against the wall. He's tried to hold back. Really, he did. But there's just so much a man like him can take in a situation like this. And he's trying to whisper apologies to you while he hasn't fully lost himself.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, just please....Fffuck–let me fuck you. Please..."

He's so desperate n'd whiney. As if he's not making your thighs shake and your brain into goo. He's fucking your mouth with his tongue, sturdy hands grabbing hold of your legs and wrapping them around his firm waist.

It's all too much. You're brain moving slower than your mouth can say "slow down". In a second he's got your trousers to the side, and his pants bunched up on his knees. He's shaking so much you're worried he might topple over. But he doesn't. Instead he slams his hips directly into yours. Your mouth opening in a silent scream.

He cums the moment he gets his dick in you. He's just so sensitive, ok :( And he doesn't stop at just one round, not even two. Three and his cum's leaking out of you, staining the floor and both of your thighs. Still moving his hips like a man possessed. Four, you're nearly passed out. And there's a slight bump in your stomach from where you're sure his cock, and cum is.

Head lying limp on your shoulder, you wonder how many times you've cummed already, or if this was even going to end. He smiles at you, so brightly he looks like your Kyle again. But he's kissing the side of your mouth before biting at your lips.

"Jus one more. Jus' one more, I promise..."

a/n: I literally don't know what bought this on. Are the parts where I lost motivation obvious? Yes? Ok. Fuck Some characters parts are longer than others I'm so sorry 😭 This has been rotting in my drafts for about 2 days. Hope you enjoy this more than I do 😞. Eat up, my loves!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny has insane abilities but watching the Poindexter episode again I realized something. The only real limit ghost have is knowledge of what they can do. Danny doesn't know he can do things until he believes he can do it or has seen someone else do it.

Most ghosts probably don't change up their arsenal is because they are limited to their mentality. They have what they like and are comfortable with that. To change their abilities would mean they are no longer themselves. It wouldn't even occur to them that they can or should.

Technus could transform into a dragon if he wished to but he would never do that. Skulker could grant wishes but that goes against his nature.

Danny doesn't have that problem because unlithem he can change. He can change his mentality and defy his nature.

So yeah Danny could use the powers of other ghosts. Not box ghost though Danny looks down on him too much to actually have a desire for that power.

So when Danny ascends to the ghost throne he his saddled with the summoning.

Each summoning is just a group begging for shit.

So he has fun with it. Turning into dragons, or small animals. Acting like a mischievous Jin granting wishes that always backfire. Taking Ghostwriter's shtick and trapping them in a Groundhogs Day scenario. He's bored and he's obligated to do something if they go through the effort of summoning him correctly.

It was all fun and games until two kids end up summoning him.

"Robin, I don't think this is a good idea."

"TT. Don't tell me your scared. We need to know what this entity is. As long as we do it properly and don't say anything stupid it's safe. So cover your mouth."

Well, this is interesting.

(Danny ends up making a deal with them that puts him in a Grim adventures of Billy and Mandy. He has to be their best friend forever. It's alot of babysitting.)

[secretlysimpash]

If you took one of the boys home, and you had a big ol' dog, I think that...

John would do the thing where instead of petting the dog, he just lovingly pats it's side..."The dad pat". And he's definitely sharing whatever he eats with the dog, too (as long as it's safe for the dog, ofc...he wants to spoil the dog, not make it sick).

Kyle would be on his best behavior with the dog...Until you're not looking. As soon as you leave those two alone, he riles the dog up. You'll be on an important call when there's just a cacophony of barking, play-growling, and stomping from a few rooms over.

Since Johnny doesn't like dogs all that much, he would try to stick close to your side...Or wherever the dog will leave him alone. But alas, the dog definitely decides that he's their new best friend, father, playmate, and everything else that involves Soap being as close as possible. Wherever the Scot goes, the big puppy isn't far behind.

Simon is on the opposite end of the spectrum when compared to Johnny. Simon LOVES dogs, and he comes prepared. Every time Simon comes through your door, expect a gift for you...And one for the dog. Suddenly your dog has a skull bandana to match Ghost, and looks almost disappointed when you come home without him sometimes.

The Shadows already have some German Shepard's and Belgian Malinois on the team...So when Phillip sees that you have a dog that's bigger than the ones he's used to working with, he's excited. Phillip is high-energy, your dog has a lot of pent up energy...Take them to the park, and just watch them both run, play frisbee, fetch...They could do this for hours. And when you get home and the dog is sound asleep, Phillip will still have enough energy for you.

König would IMMEDIATELY try picking the dog up like a baby. As soon as he knows the dog won't try to rip his face off, he just scoops it up into his arms. Half as a show of strength ("Look, Schatzi...They weigh nothing to me!"), and half because I can't help but see him as an animal lover. And if you're watching a movie, or cuddling, or doing anything together, nine out of ten times he'll want the dog to come. Sorry, but that's his baby now, too.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

your shark mer 141 and mer remora fic is one of the only things keeping me sane during finals week so please please please dump all of your thoughts on us because your writing style is so good and i can’t get enough!!!!!!!

thank you!! i sincerely hope finals are going/did go well for you! you should treat yourself with a little something if/when you're finished :)

and the shark mer 141 are always happy to be of service <3

37 / 1k / part 2 of shark mer Ghost tolerating remora mer reader

...

"But I'm fine!"

“You’re not. Look at you. You’re half-asleep.”

You’re not tired, you’re hungry. You shift against him, listless and unable to voice your needs. It's not that you're unwilling to do so--it's that you can't. It doesn't occur to you. Your kind doesn't survive by acting needy around a host.

Ghost notices your silent resistance. You’re weak--too tired, too hungry, too used to taking care of yourself--and still stubborn enough to keep your mouth shut anyway. He bites back a growl of irritation. It would be easier to fight. At least then he could shout it out of you. But no--instead you’re a tired lump in his hand, and your silence doesn’t give him anywhere to push back.

He's got one arm looped around you and both of your hands grasped in one of his. He only carries you like this, holding you by the wrists, when you accompanying him isn't up for debate. When you're being particularly fussy about it, he drags you by the wrists as if your arms were leads.

You don't relish that thought right now. You finally just bow your head, tucking it against his chest in submission.

He feels the change in your body language when you surrender to his control. He notices the way you go almost limp against him. Good. That almost puts the hungry, prowling animal in him to rest. Almost.

It’s a hard thing to explain--the gnawing dissatisfaction he felt watching you comb through the sand, small and alone on the ocean floor. The protective, possessive feeling that took root in his stomach.

It made him want to bite you all over. Not just to punish you, but to warn any other lurking thing who might confuse your loneliness for attainability. Not that he'd ever express the impulse to do so.

"Are you coming back to hunt again?" you ask him.

“Why? Do you miss me that much?”

You huff. "You didn't eat enough."

His fingers tighten around your wrists. You either have an inappropriate sense of humor or no self-awareness whatsoever.

“You're in a mouthy mood, huh?” he remarks tersely. “Must be even more tired than you look.”

He’s not stupid. He knows why you invited yourself along on his hunting trip. But he’s not going to coddle you while you shy away from the issue.

He glances up towards the coral reef, considering. If he brings you straight home, you'll just go back to ignoring your obvious needs. But he won’t let you wander the sea floor like some starving bottom-feeder. And he knows better than to hunt for you—you always refuse fresh kills.

The ones Ghost offers, at least. You seem willing enough to take fresh kills from Gaz.

Pisses him off.

You open your eyes when Ghost changes course and heads for a small cove carpeted in sandbanks. He dumps you unceremoniously into the soft sand. You look around, then at him.

"Stay right here." His tone brooks no argument. He swims off with an irritated lash of his tail before you can ask him why. You're left alone, moonlight curling across the surface of the water far above you and across the sand at your fins. Watching it makes your eyelids grow heavy.

You wake with a start when he returns. He holds in one clawed hand a fish. A live one.

He comes to rest on the edge of the sandbank. He doesn't speak, merely watching with a critical eye as you shake the sand from your scales and rouse yourself back into full consciousness. Then he holds out the live fish to you.

"Eat."

You frown but reach for it. Right as you lay your hands on it, it darts away. You jump in surprise, but one look at Ghost's face tells you he expected exactly that to happen. He can’t stop a small, satisfied smirk from curving his lips. That was exactly the reaction he wanted, and now you’re staring at him with six different accusations on the tip of your tongue.

His eyes fix on you with that smug, condescending look in his gaze. "Didn't Price teach you how to hunt for yourself?"

"Yes," you snap. You push yourself off the sand and dart after the fish, catching nothing but water again.

“Clearly not well.”

You strike out again. And come up empty. Again.

He huffs a laugh. You turn on him. "What's the point of this? You're the one who was going hunting."

He leans back, propping his weight on his elbows as he eyes you. Every failed lunge and dart bring him more satisfaction. "The point is that you should be able to feed yourself," he retorts. "You're too dependent, sweetheart. You’d starve in a koi pond."

You’d love nothing more than to tell him where exactly he can shove his stupid fish, but it’s far too mentally taxing for you to refuse outright. Instead, you cross your arms in a way that just as clearly says I'm not doing that.

Ghost’s eyes glimmer. He isn’t having it.

He pushes himself off the sand and swims toward you, pushing you back against the bank when he crowds himself over your smaller frame.

"You know” —his expression is downright patronizing— “refusing an order is a bad move. Bad things happen to disobedient pets."

"It didn't sound like an order," you mutter, avoiding his eyes.

He grabs your jaw and forces eye contact. "Sure as hell wasn't a suggestion, sweetheart. If you're not gonna ask for food when you need it, you're gonna learn to hunt." His eyes are hard, and that smug, self-satisfied demeanor is buried far underneath. "You learn or I make you learn. What do you say?"

You swallow. "Thank you for catching me such a nice practice fish?"

"Good pet." He releases your jaw.

He moves back onto the sand, propping himself on his elbows once more as he leans back. His black eyes linger on you, and you feel a chill.

"Now go."

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more mer au / more Ghost / masterlist tag

[eowynstwin]

What do you think the 141 lads sound like in bed?

Soap - I hope you know what I mean when I say Leon Kennedy levels of vocal. Soap is shameless and downright animalistic. The kind of noise he makes can be anywhere from deep and rumbling to high and breathy, and if it's hitting just right he'll whimper and moan like a bitch in heat. Sex, for him, is an opportunity to express himself without reservation. He growls and pants when he comes like the slut he is.

Ghost - Groans the way one might when sinking into a hot bath. Low-pitched, humming, like every knot in his back is being massaged out. You might expect him out of everyone to be the most quiet, but no—if you get him into bed, you will find him at his most uninhibited. He finds a lot of relief in sex; it makes him feel very present and in the moment. When he comes, though, he's dead silent, mostly because the pleasure takes his breath away.

Gaz - Kind of quiet, but not on purpose. He isn't embarrassed about making noise, moreso that he just naturally doesn't—it's mostly because he's so focused on what he's doing. He moans very low and quiet, and the tenor of his breathing increases in pitch the closer he is to orgasm. After he comes he'll let out a long, drawn-out breath, and then he'll start laughing, because he gets a post-nut high like nothing else.

Price - Silent most of the time. For him, it’s a little bit of embarrassment, machismo intruding on his ability to really enjoy the moment. His breath is very audible, however. It's deep and rough in his chest, like a beast trying to escape, and really the only way you're going to hear him make any noise in bed is if you coax him into letting it out. Then he grunts and groans and snorts like a rutting animal, and purrs loud and long when he comes.

[writersdrug]

We're making Bartender!Ghost a masochist bc why nottttt (NSFW)

He's secretly so nasty, he can't cum unless he tortures his cock just a lil bit, playing with the piercings and squeezing just a little too hard

He's definitely gonna ask you to smack him ("none of that weak shit, dove, slap me like you mean it") - when he finally gathers the courage to toss you into his bed

Will start riling you up with petty arguments during a shift, just to hear you whine and pout - he loves the way you sigh, followed with an exasperated "Simon..." - after the pub closes, he'll use the fact that you were bitchy to him all day to justify him "brat taming" you, finally having a reason to use those zipties in the supply closet and punishing your cunt all night

Don't worry, he'll eventually have you on top, flush-faced and panting as he begs you to edge him and scratch up his chest

But if you're too cocky with it, he'll flip you back over and take you prone, licking the sweat off your back and grunting like an animal into your ear - probably smacks your ass super hard just to hear you yelp because "y'r a fuckin' brat, just needed some dick to work ya down, huh?"

He's back to groaning and grunting and panting in a few moments - and you definitely feel some drool on your shoulder

Of course, he thinks of all this while he's mixing drinks and pouring taps, especially on busy nights (he doesn't know why) - wishes he could stop, though, because he's getting worse at hiding his boner every night.

Maybe he'll let Price take you on the couch in the office while he watches from the desk chair.

Pls send me thoughts, I can feel the motivation freeze starting to melt away

[captain-huggy-bear]

Late Bloomer

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Quinn finds out he's your first boyfriend in your mid-20s, you're expecting him to freak out.

Notes: In honour of still being single at 26 nearly 27, for all my late bloomer girlies, you're fine. (I didn't have my first kiss till 24, so you'll be fine, we'll be fine)

"You're my first..."

"What?" It's not that Quinn hasn't heard you, of course he has. Your head is in his lap, he's so close he can hear every breath from you as you lounge together on his couch. It's that he doesn't quite believe it. That this talk of past partners summarily ended with you admitting he was your first, you? How could he be your first when you're the dream for him?

He looks dumbfounded above you and you can't help the embarrassment that floods you, cheeks feeling warm as you scramble out of his lap and towards the other end of the couch. He reaches for you on instinct before you get very far, hand wrapping around your ankle to tug you back lightly.

You're embarrassed by it, mid-twenties and a self confessed late bloomer, your first kiss not long ago and Quinn your first boyfriend. It makes you feel immature, silly. You're prepared for the usual questions; what was wrong with you that you didn't have a partner before him, had you just not been interested or was there some sort of skeleton in your closet that he didn't know about. You only admitted it because he was asking about past partners and you refused to lie to him, couldn't possible lie to him.

"Hey, hey, where you going?" His voice has gone soft, eyes softening at your retreat, like he's calming a skittish animal as he tugs you back to him. You're still keeping some distance, not quite as close as before but not so far either.

"It's weird, isn't it?" You avoid his eyes, arms crossing over yourself protectively.

"No, I'm just surprised, sweetheart..."

"Right...cause it must mean there's something wrong with me, right? Why else would I be in my mid twenties and only just in my first relationship...it's okay, I know it's weird." Every single person who'd ever told you it was weird, questioned your singledom seemed to pop into your head in that moment. Every date who got weirded out by it and ghosted you. Every time your mother suggested that you might just never find someone. Every person that gave you that look of pity then whispered behind your back. In that moment you can't comprehend that Quinn's being genuinely, that he doesn't actually think it's weird or at least not in the way you think.

"Baby," He's laughing at you lightly as ramble out your words, hand pressing under your chin, thumb and forefinger gripping gently to raise your face to meet his eyes. "It's not weird, I mean...okay, it's not weird like that. I just...i'm surprised no one else snatched up before me, y'know?"

You're a little stumped by the way he's smiling at you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he pulls you closer, your legs resting either side of his lap.

"You're just...you're funny," He presses a kiss to your cheek, the scruff he's been growing this season scratches pleasantly as his voice rumbles in a hum of sorts, "kind," a kiss pressed to your forehead, "intelligent, so smart its actually embarrassing for me," a kiss to your other cheek, nose nuzzling just a little before moving on, "brave," the tip of your nose is the target this time, "insanely pretty," your chin gets a peck, ", and completely perfect for me".

His breath hovers over your lips, waiting for your eyes that had closed to reopen before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It's perhaps the sweetest kiss he's ever given you as his hands curl over your hips and a happy rumble escapes his chest like a cat purring.

"You...you mean all that? You're not weirded out by it?" You ask the moment he pulls away, that hesitancy still there. Your desire to not ruin this new, sweet thing you have so very strong. He's all you ever wanted and you don't want to ruin it just because you're inexperienced.

"Baby...i'm actually kind of glad...can I say that? Not to sound like an asshole or anything, but....I like that i'm your first boyfriend, that I get to be that for you." There's this possessive little thing in him that loves it, loves that no other man has made you feel the way he does, that there are so many firsts he gets to share with you, that no other man gets to claim you were his. It's stupid, old fashioned, practically cave man. He knows you're not a trophy, an object, he doesn't think you are...but he also hates the idea that you might have loved someone else.

"You jealous?" You tease, shoulders relaxing as your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He'd been growing it out over the season and you were tempted to pay every barber in the city to refuse to cut his hair.

"Of other guys who might have loved you? Oh, yeah...want you all to myself, forever." His fingers rub circles into your outer thigh, where your sleep shorts have risen. Every other circle interrupted by a random shape or pattern.

"Forever?"

"Forever. If you'll let me?" There's no doubt in his mind that you're it for him. He's been gone from the first moment, all consumed. His life used to be strictly hockey and then you stormed into his life, suddenly he wants to take breaks, hates roadies because he misses you, and looks for a familiar face in the crowd. He could see it, you, him, forever. You, him, a few little kids running around, a couple of cats, a house in the suburbs.

You grin at him, humming as if it's a hard question to answer, something that requires a lot of thinking. "Mmm, I'll think about it,"

Your teasing is cut short by Quinn's fingers finding their way to your ribs, tickling you in your soft spot as you shriek and try to pull away, "Hey! Quinn!", his right arm holds you tight to him, even as you squirm while laughing so hard you worry you might be sick.

"Say it!" He demands, torture not letting up for a single moment even as he grins down at your scrunched up face, at the way you try to squirm away as you laugh.

"Okay, okay!" You finally concede, trying to catch your breath as his fingers still, your arms wrapping tight around his neck, foreheads pressed together. "Forever."

"Good."

He might be your first boyfriend, but he's also pretty certain he might be your last. At least, if he has any say in it.