#He has two hands and two snakes he can have many partners

[mc-lukanette]

Ladybug stood on a rooftop, dazed, staring up as the magical ladybugs flew up into the sky and dispersed into nothingness. It hadn't even been a year, yet she'd lost track of all the akuma she'd found.

All the time she'd lost.

Dropping her gaze to the roof under her feet, she wondered how many times she'd jumped across it. The rooftops of Paris had all blended together in her mind, which had long since stopped seeing them as buildings or shops so much as something to step across to get wherever she needed to go, or an object to throw her yoyo at to swing somewhere.

Down below, a crowd was cheering for her and Chat Noir. Their faces were hard to see with her vision occasionally blurring, but she felt they were grateful, at least, and the distance was the only reason why no one saw the tiredness in her eyes. Chat Noir, though he stood right there next to her, was simply too busy putting on a good smile to the cameras to see the way she swayed like she was about to fall over.

That's what she told herself, anyway. Besides, heroes didn't get tired, they didn't need breaks, and they certainly didn't demand sympathy from those around them. They were meant to serve as a higher being, perfect in the eyes of the public.

That was all.

As Ladybug raised a hand to give a smile and wave with energy she didn't have, a group of screams rang out.

"Oh no, i-it's another akuma!"

"Quick, everybody, run!"

"M'lady, look out!"

Everything happened so fast. It was hard to catch up and understand where the horror was directed to, but she turned around under the assumption of a sneak attack. Chat's hand came into contact with her shoulder at the same time, the motion of which indicated that he was about to shove her out of the way.

Instead, she saw a flash of teal and Chat was catapulted back onto one of the rooftops a few buildings away. She couldn't even call out his name before something thick and smooth wrapped around her and brought her to the ground, the air leaving her lungs from the shock. She looked down, noting the snake-like scales, and wriggled, but the grip was tight enough that it was hard to get her arms out.

Strangely, it wasn't so tight that it hurt. Maybe there was an opening somewhere?

"Ha." A smooth, strangely mellow voice spoke, preceding a few delicate, harp-like notes. "That joke Hawk Moth made it too easy."

Twisting her head any which way she could to see the source, Ladybug looked up to see the start of the snake tail she was wrapped in, connected to a seemingly male human body like naga in mythology. The boy - not looking that much older than her - wore a bodysuit matching his snake tail, transitioning so smoothly that it was hard to tell where the torso ended and the tail began. Darker teal lines snaked - quite appropriate given the theming - up his arms, all the way to the hood on his head.

The hood cast a shadow over his face, but she could still see the teal mask, the lower corners jutting down sharply into points to imitate fangs. Had she not been in the process of being restrained by him at the time, she may have complimented his style.

A lyre was clutched in one of his hands, explaining the music she'd heard earlier, and he played a few more notes over the cries of the few people who remained below. "You can call me Hoodstrum. I seek the most valuable things in the world and have had my sights set on this beautiful bug for a while now."

"Get in line!" Chat yelled out from afar. "That's my partner you're taking!"

Ladybug rolled her eyes, genuinely unable to tell if this was more about her being kidnapped or two boys fighting over a girl. "This is not the time, Chat Noir!"

Hoodstrum clicked his tongue, unimpressed by Chat's retort, then raised his free hand behind him in a fist. Slowly, his fingers curled open, and with them what Ladybug could only describe as the fabric of dimensions. A portal was opening at his command, more than large enough for the two of them and shaped like a snake's mouth opening wide. She couldn't see what awaited on the other side either, only colors zipping from side-to-side like lightning bolts.

Were they going to hurt?

"They always say that you don't know what you have 'til it's gone." Plucking one string at a time in a slow, taunting motion, Hoodstrum continued, "But don't worry. I'll be sure to put her in a nice little terrarium."

Chat called out for her again, followed by the sound of his boots against the rooftops, but it was too late. Ladybug felt the tail tighten briefly before throwing her, her world spinning as her surroundings blurred into nothing discernible. The sounds of Chat Noir, the crowd, and Paris itself faded in an instant and she braced for impact, her body curling in on itself to protect anything vital from the rough landing.

Only then to feel the impact against something marshmallow soft and pillow-y.

"Uh—?" Ladybug's body unconsciously relaxed at the unexpected sensation, then tensed again when she recognized what must be a trap. The ground below her would be unstable and hard to move around on, giving Hoodstrum the advantage as he floated above it.

Pushing herself up and fighting against the struggle for balance, her fists flew up into her fighting stance. Her eyes searched viciously for any sort of advantages she could have in this boy's lair, such as a defensive spot under the coffee table, the TV to smash over his head, the fridge in the other room to....

wait.

Ladybug blinked, staring at the weirdly normal living room she was in. The floor was a smooth, gray vinyl and the walls were black, curving into an equally black ceiling. The TV stand housed a couple of well taken care of gaming systems, and the coffee table had a deck of cards stacked neatly atop it. There was an opening with an arc shape in one of the walls leading into the kitchen, an electric kettle on the counter emitting steam and even a clear jar of sweets nearby.

Also, was that a bean bag chair near the couch?

She couldn't see any sign of a front door, but there was a hallway that she could only guess led to a bathroom and bedroom or something similar. Point being, this was not a lair, and certainly not a terrarium in the sinister way Hoodstrum had spoken it. Under her feet as well, there was no deception or trap to be caught in, but actual pillows that she'd landed on.

She had to admit at that point that she was officially, utterly confused.

At that moment, Hoodstrum's voice called out from behind her, "I'm glad I aimed right. I would've felt terrible if I missed the pillows."

Ladybug spun around to face him, but stumbled on the uneven surface. That one was her own fault and she went for the obvious solution of stepping outside of the "pillow zone" while Hoodstrum casually slithered past her, the portal behind him long gone. She watched, waiting for him to suddenly turn and pounce at her, yet he laid himself on the couch instead, looking totally vulnerable to any and all attacks.

"Um," Ladybug began, raising a hand to point around the room, "am I missing something?"

He tossed her a smile, stretching his arms before propping himself back up into a sitting position. The long snake tail made it awkward, but he didn't appear bothered by it. "Sorry. This is my first time doing this for someone."

The phrase 'doing this for someone' implied that it was to her own benefit, only making her more confused.

He explained before she could ask any further, "I'm not a villain. I'm part of a group against the Order of the Guardians."

"The Order of the Guardians?" she asked warily. "But how aren't you a villain then?"

He leaned against the backrest, unbothered by the half-accusation. "We don't want to harm anyone; they do. Before the accident, they took kids in even if those kids didn't want it, and starved them as part of their training."

Ladybug bit her lower lip, already eerily familiar with that story. That's what Master Fu had gone through before Feast happened.

Hoodstrum, staring at her with a wealth of emotional intelligence, seemed to know that she understood that already. "They wiped themselves out because they didn't care about anything but their rules. The first one of us knew that and ran away with some of their miraculouses."

At that, her gaze dropped, scanning his body over to search for something she hadn't thought to before. On his wrist, she noted, was a bangle designed like an ouroboros. "Is that what you're wearing?"

"You're learning the notes fast," he complimented with a nod. He raised his arm out to her in a silent offer, adding, "The snake was one of the ones they got away with."

Though still hesitant, she couldn't detect anything suspicious in his posture. One step at a time, she slowly made her way towards the couch until she was within arm's length of him. Taking hold of his forearm and hand, she examined the supposed snake miraculous in question.

It was bizarre. In her limited experience with the miraculouses Master Fu had, it definitely looked like a miraculous: it was an accessory to wear and his bodysuit had remnants of what she might expect, but something wasn't quite right. While the design of the miraculouses was done who knows how long ago, Hoodstrum's appeared modern as if made recently, or perhaps refurbished.

Looking upon her thoughtful expression approvingly, he told her, "I don't know everything, but the miraculouses they stole got taken all over to other people; people who could make them better with the times." He glanced down at it. "Think of it like a record of an old song compared to the music we have now. It's always changing, and we're finding new ways to play and record it."

"So that's why you have other powers," Ladybug deduced, recalling the portal he had opened. She wanted to leave it there, but the nagging voice in the back of her head refused to let go of the scale-covered elephant in the room. "...But the tail? And fangs?"

He grinned, inadvertently showing off the fangs in question. Closing his eyes, he took a deep, steadying breath...

and started to detransform.

She yelped, recoiling from the bright light. Her calves bumped into the coffee table, but she remained standing and instinctively covered her eyes in thought of seeing someone's civilian identity.

She could hear Hoodstrum chuckle, but a different voice was the one who spoke up. "It's fine to look, Ladybug. My holder trusts you."

"N-nggh, but why?" she whined from behind her hands.

She got no answer, but the permission had made her too curious. She lowered her hands first, then opened one eye at a time until she could fully take him in. Rather than the half-human, half-snake she had seen earlier, Hoodstrum looked entirely normal, if a little bit punk. His black pants were torn at the knees, under his denim jacket was a thick midnight blue hoodie - the hood of which had been put down to reveal fluffy black hair with blue highlights - and his white shirt had rips as well as—

"Is that Jagged Stone?" she blurted out, staring at the logo across the chest of the shirt.

"Yeah," he admitted, "he's my favorite singer."

"Mine t—" She clammed up, remembering that she wasn't Marinette right now. Hoodstrum had such a calm, amicable tone when speaking that it felt like talking with a friend rather than a stranger. Was this somehow part of catching her off-guard?

The voice from earlier, as she soon discovered, belonged to a snake-looking kwami flying beside him. He chimed into the conversation, explaining, "Gaining our features are a side-effect of the modern miraculouses. They might be inconvenient for our holders, but it's the price they're willing to pay for our will."

"Will?" Ladybug repeated for clarification.

Hoodstrum raised his wrist again, showing the disguised form of the miraculous. "I can't transform if Sass doesn't want to."

Sass crossed his legs, his long tail curling around them. "The modern miraculouses keep us from being used without our consent, or if we think it might put our holder in danger. It gives us more power in the bond we share and our holders are happy to take the consequence of that."

It was a lot of information at once, but she tried to follow as best as she could. The idea that kwamis weren't slaves to whoever had their hands on their miraculouses sounded almost fantastical, making her think of poor Nooroo under Hawk Moth. "You didn't have to detransform to prove that though."

"I know," Hoodstrum said. He got up from the couch to stand in front of her, gesturing to himself. "But I want to earn your trust if I can, so you don't feel uncomfortable here."

"Here?" Ladybug took another look around, reminded of the situation that led them to this moment, and raised a finger. "Wait, yeah! Why am I here? Where is here? And I thought you kidnapped me!"

He shook his head. "I'll take you back whenever you want. This—" He outstretched an arm to the rest of the room. "—is for you, and anyone like you."

She brought a hand to her mouth, brows drawn together in thought. "I don't get it."

Sass flew up, lounging lazily on Hoodstrum's shoulder, and "pointed" at her with his paw. "You're exhausted. That much is obvious in everything we saw."

Her eyes widened. They noticed? Had it been that obvious to these two that didn't know her? "That...that's normal."

"It's not," Hoodstrum argued with a frown. "Whoever your guardian is, he chose a cat who loves the job. He could've done the same for your miraculous too."

Sass clicked his tongue in a way not unlike what Hoodstrum had done towards Chat. "That's typical of guardians: never ask, just choose."

Ladybug swallowed, wanting to defend Master Fu but unable to. It was true, she hadn't wanted to be Ladybug, and in fact had to when the holder she had intended to replace herself with got trapped behind a car. There were so many times that she thought about giving up or lamented how overwhelmed it made her feel, but she hadn't wanted to question a decision made by someone who seemed so much older and wiser than her.

"So you brought only me here because of that," she concluded, "but... to do what?"

Hoodstrum and Sass exchanged glances that were a mix between concerned and amused, as if the answer were obvious and it was worrying that she didn't understand.

Simultaneously, they looked at her and simply said, "To rest."

"R—" She would have staggered back if the coffee table wasn't in the way, so she opted to wave her arms about in disbelief. "Rest? What? That's it?"

Hoodstrum turned away, moving to walk around the room. Sass remained hovering where he'd been, observing Hoodstrum's movements alongside Ladybug.

"I wanted to talk to you sooner, but I was still learning how to use my miraculous." He knelt down to the TV stand, feeling around for dust. He only stood back up when he was satisfied it was clean. "This place hasn't been needed in so long too. Me and my family tried to update it to make you comfortable, but it took a while."

Sass cleared his throat, Ladybug turning to him as he added on, "You could call this a pocket dimension inside our world. Here, time moves at one-sixth the speed as it does outside. Luka is hoping to make it better than that one day."

Ladybug almost didn't register that Sass had just used Hoodstrum's civilian name, her mind whirling thinking about the massive time bomb that had just dropped on her. One-sixth of the time meant that one hour in Paris was six hours here, and one day was six days, yet Luka didn't think that was good enough? That was already so much!

Even the idea of it being a pocket dimension, she could tell it was the truth. When she listened closely, she couldn't hear a thing that she wasn't aware of in the room: no birds chirping, no cars driving by, and no people chatting idly. Only the sound of her own breathing and Luka's footsteps filled the space.

It was just the three of them - four if one counted her growing disbelief at this point - all by themselves.

Luka continued the mini tour of the space as if none of this was particularly amazing; to him, who had experience preparing all this in the first place, maybe it wasn't. He wandered into the kitchen next, opening one of the cupboards to reveal a whole variety of tiny snack bags in just about any color she could imagine.

"I don't know what kind of food you like," he began, opening the fridge with his other hand to show her the fruits, milk, and such, "so we got whatever we could. I can give the rest to my friends, so you don't have to eat all of it."

Ladybug couldn't say anything, at a complete loss for words. Not moving her eyes from Luka, she went around the coffee table to follow him into the kitchen. Tearing her eyes from him to look at the food - the food for her - was difficult, because she didn't understand even after having it all explained to her.

It wasn't him alone who'd done all this, as he'd openly said, but he'd taken on the primary role. He brought her here, blindly trusted her to the point of letting her know his civilian identity, and for what? So she could rest?

Why?

"That act you put on..." she started to say, because she was certain now that it was an act.

"I needed a way to talk to you without accidentally seeing your identity," he confirmed. Looking off to the side, not wholly innocently, he admitted, "And I meant what I said about value: maybe they'll learn to care about you if they think they could've lost you."

"They care," she claimed weakly; an instinctive defense of the people she worked hard to protect.

She felt a small breeze to her side, Sass flying past her and into the fridge. He pulled a single hard-boiled egg from inside, then shut the door with his tail and flew over next to Luka. Taking a big bite of the egg's top, he almost looked like someone with a giant egg-shaped glass of alcohol.

"Ladybug," he said with patience she suddenly felt she didn't deserve, "We've seen the Face-to-Face interview."

She cringed at the memory instantly, her cheeks growing pink from embarrassment. Of course she recalled that: the interview with Nadja Chamack where she and the audience seemed to care for nothing more than whether Ladybug and Chat Noir were dating. Any time she tried to change the subject or tell the truth, she would be ignored or shot down.

Even Chat himself brushed it off as the price of being a star. Maybe then, the people did care, but only so far as to whether she could save them and get together with who they wanted her to.

She just hadn't wanted to acknowledge it.

Luka, meanwhile, had been ready for it. He'd made himself their bad guy so that he could offer her this. Guilt tore at her stomach, telling her how much she didn't deserve this.

"I...I have school," she tried.

"Tomorrow's Sunday," Luka supplied easily.

"My parents will wonder where I am."

"You can tell them you're staying with a friend."

"If Hawk Moth attacks while I'm here..."

"We can still get alerts. You'll know."

They really planned it all out. They had an answer for all of her questions and, as she'd already calculated earlier, she'd have six whole days to do whatever she wished even if she stayed there just for one Sunday. It was as Luka said: this was for her.

"...What's the catch?"

Luka smiled sadly at her, at the idea that they would require some sort of payment. There's a three step distance between the two of them and he closes that gap by two, his hands taking hold of hers and squeezing them reassuringly. It hadn't even occurred to her that he hadn't touched her until now, beyond what it took to bring her here. He'd let her get closer to touch him, but it was only when he felt she needed it that he gave it to her.

"No catch. We just want you to enjoy yourself. I'll give you my number and you can call me on your yoyo whenever you want me to bring you here. If you want to quit being Ladybug, we'll help you do that too, but you can still come." He squeezed her hands once more. "I saw you, I wanted to help you, it's that simple. It's not a favor, it's a reward."

She looked up at him. She'd noticed, but hadn't really thought about the fact, that his eyes had been green as Hoodstrum. When he was Luka, they were instead a deep, soothing blue.

She liked the blue, even more than the green.

Staring down at the hands holding hers, Ladybug curled her fingers inwards to squeeze him back. Unable to make excuses to get out of relaxing any longer - a thought she knew should give her much to self-reflect on in her future - she gave in and wondered aloud, "Can we do stuff together too?"

Luka beamed, more than happy to do just that.

[largemandrill]

I made another one

[coryosbaby]

—Envy

synopsis: your jealousy gets the best of you.

♡ content warning . Mentions of murder, possessiveness, oral, cum play, plinth! reader

“I want to know why you did it.”

Your boyfriend’s voice rings out through your shared room in the capital, an octave lower and in a teasing lilt— maybe not a tone that a normal person who’s discussing murder should have, but nothing about your or Coriolanus’ relationship can be defined as normal.

You know the answer to Coriolanus’ question, though you don’t want to say it. A pout glazes your plump glossed lips as you think back to the scene that has started this conversation.

—

You remember Clemensia’s stupid ponytail, her stupid face, and the way her stupid sharp nails dug into Coriolanus’ shoulder the day before. She was asking to be in that room with you the next day— literally.

It was a class project. One that was for advanced students only, a one-by-one sort of assignment. You were Dr. Gaul’s personal assistant, the youngest ever— although, partner seemed to describe your dynamic with her better. You and Dr. Gaul went way back, and she trusted you.

You and Clemensia were in that brightly lit room you were oh so familiar with. Papers and folders were strewn around a desk nearby— and you and her were both alone. The body of snakes swimming throughout the small pool in the middle of the room had been enticing to stick your hand into. You remember Clemensia’s surprised look of awe as she watched you take one of the snakes trustfully into your grasp. It dripped water but it was beautiful. Its fangs scraped against you, almost teasing. It wanted to stick its teeth into your skin— you knew it did. But you trusted the snakes, and they trusted you. They would not be eating their handler anytime soon.

But maybe they would be eating something else.

Clemensia crouched in your same position; you were on your knees, gently rubbing your cheek against the snake’s rainbow scales. It whispered to you, lulling with soft hisses.

“Would you like to hold it?” You had asked her. “They enjoy a good petting every now and again.”

Clemensia had chuckled nervously, and you could tell by her body language that she was on edge.

“Don’t be silly, [y/n] plinth,” she had answered bleakly. “That snake would surely kill me.”

You remember turning to her. You could remember her brows furrowing, the softness of her skin. Coriolanus liked nice skin.

“I know.” You had said, and the rest was a blur.

A restling of limbs, your hands gripping tightly in her hair. There was splashing, gurgling, snakes crowding the surface. Her whole body had become submerged in that pool, and then you remembered that you had forgot to feed the snakes that day.

—

Thinking about it now, maybe you were a bit dramatic. Coriolanus has made his love for you very clear. There was no reason for such atrocities because of a girl he wasn’t even dating. But they had grown too close, and it had scared you.

Not to mention her excessive gossip about your fashion choices, which really pissed you off. Coriolanus shouldn’t have become friends with her, anyway.

“I told you,” You groan, watching him take a seat across from you. His shirt buttons are undone, just how you like them. “ I didn’t do it. She slipped.”

He doesn’t reply, and you groan.

“Why are you acting as if you didn’t do the same exact thing to that boy from economics class a few months ago, Coryo?”

“He was a complete dick, [y/n]. And a pervert. That was different.”

“I’m sure it was.”

Although Coriolanus should be disturbed, or quite possibly angered with you, he isn’t. You two tell too many secrets to judge. He doesn’t exactly have room to tell you who you should and shouldn’t kill with his past history.

And even so, the boy doesn’t have any room to care for Clemensia’s passing. She isn’t you, so it doesn’t matter.

After a moment of silence, Coriolanus sighs heavily. His thighs spread, and he leans back in his chair.

“But why…” he starts quietly, contemplating, as if this is funny guessing game. “Aren’t you going to tell me why?”

He knows the reason. He’s not stupid, and never has been. But he loves to tease.

“No.”

“Mmm…”

He turns his head to the side. His blonde curls have grown back, and for that you are incredibly grateful because they’re messy and make him look even more attractive. His eyes catch sight of a framed picture beside your bed— you and him, sitting at a shared desk in class. You were smiling at the camera, your favorite outfit on, and Coriolanus was only looking at you.

Smirking, Coriolanus lifts himself up from his chair. Your brows furrow in confusion as he approaches you, his tall form almost intimidating. His smell invades your senses as he leans over your shoulder to whisper into your ear.

“Was it jealousy?”

His tone is dark, flirtatious, and his breath is hot on the shell of your ear. Heat creeps up your neck— no matter how many times he speaks to you in this low tone of voice, it never fails to make your shiver.

You chuckle, your thighs squeezing together when his fingers grip tightly onto your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply. Your head turns to him, and he’s so close that you can feel his steady breathing. “Besides, I didn’t do it. Like I said— she slipped.”

“Liar.” He says punctually. His fingers grip your chin suddenly, and his grip is harsh. “You didn’t like me with her, did you?”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, and Coriolanus’ fingers stroke your shoulder softly.

“Did you think she was pretty?” You ask. The boy chuckles, slowly pressing a wet kiss to your jugular that makes something electric zigzag its way through your body.

“No. The only woman who’s pretty to me is you.”

That makes you let out a small sound, and Coriolanus’ body moves to the front of your chair. He falls to his knees, then, the candlelight near the both of you making him look ever so beautiful. His fingers ghost over your skirt, and you whine, squirming in your seat. He pinches the hem, and lifts up the cotton fabric over your thighs. Cute pink panties are shown to him, and he lets out a groan.

“You’re so perfect.” He mutters. He leans in, his breath fanning over you, but he doesn’t get as close as you want. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Coryo,” you whine, bucking up your hips. “Please. Please eat my pussy.”

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and glazed over with lust.

“Kiss me.” He demands, and you have no choice but to obey. Your hands settle into his golden locks, pulling him up further on his knees so he can gain access to your plump, hot mouth. Your lips slot against his, and it isn’t long before his tongue is grazing the soft flesh. His teeth bite down, nibbling on your lips with ferocious hunger as his fingers dig crescent moons into your thighs. Pulling away, your hands rest on his shoulders. Coriolanus grabs one of them, pulling you so far down that your forehead touches his as he presses your palm against the bulge tight in his pants.

“Do you think Clemensia could make me feel this way, angel? Could make my cock so hard?” He says, and his breath is hot against your open mouth as he utters his next words. “I’m yours.”

You yank your hand away, pulling him into another hot and heated kiss. But not before he’s pulling himself away and sliding your panties down your legs, mouthing at your inner thighs again as your pussy is exposed to him. Coriolanus practically drools, spreading your thighs and shoving his tongue inside your tight, aching hole. His big hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth. He drinks up your slick with vigor, moaning against your clit as he devours you. Your mouth drops open, whimpers spilling out of you.

“Coryo,” you cry. His tongue moves from your hole to your clit, and he wraps his lips around the swollen bud as your hips buck up into his face.

He hums, savoring the taste of your nectar and grinding his hardened cock into the open air. He slurps into your cunt with everything he has and when you cum around him he drinks up your spend, too. His cock is still aching when he’s done and when he pulls away and wipes his pretty mouth on the back of his sleeve your gesture for him to stand up.

He smiles, watching as you grab his hips and pull them towards your face. You undo his belt, watching the straining fabric as your mouth waters. You pull out his hardened cock, the tip flushed red and dripping precum, and press a light kiss to the tip. Coriolanus shutters, letting out a tiny breath of air as he watches you press kiss upon lipstick stained kiss to his thick length. After a moment he grabs your hair and gently pulls you back from his cock.

“No,” he murmurs, when you try to put your mouth back on it again. “This is about me now, not you. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

Brows furrowing while you try not to pout, you lean back and do as the man says. Your lashes flutter as you watch him tower over you, putting his legs on either side of the chair and holding himself up with one strong, muscle-ey arm. You let out a tiny whine in your throat as he holds his cock over your face and begins to stroke himself. You watch how swollen he is, how desperate he is to cum, the way his balls sit against his skin and look desperate to be emptied. He lets out small breathy moans as he rubs himself up and down, his head thrown back and his lip caught in between his teeth. What a beautiful sight.

He grunts when he looks down and sees drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth.

“Hungry for it, aren’t you?” He chastises. “I know. Poor little girl loves drinking up my cum. Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna get some soon.”

Your head becomes fuzzy, your tongue reaching out to graze just a sliver of his cock. But he’s quick to use his length to slap your cheek, a warning growl sounding from his lips.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He asks you. “Keep fucking still, and don’t touch me.”

You pout, your mouth closing in the process, and Coryo fumes. He grabs your chin, forcing your mouth back open grabbing your tongue with his fingers. He presses it down onto your teeth, and begins to furiously jack his cock.

“You never fucking listen.”

You want to smile but you know you can’t. When Coriolanus’ hips thrust particularly hard into the open air, you know he’s about to be close. You push out your tongue even more, watching his tip begin to spew white creamy cum onto your flushed face. He grunts, the sight of your fucked out body covered in the sticky substance making his cock kick one last time before he goes soft. You look up at him with heavy breaths, your mouth open as you lick your lips and taste him on you. His thumb brushes against a puddle of his spend, and he brings it up to your mouth.

“Now clean it up, brat.”

[k2ntoss]

i feel like I've been MIA for too long lmao but hooo boyyy i have so many thoughts now because of that prompt list omg 🫠 i NEED -Fucking someone so good that they struggle to kiss you back.- and “Spread your legs baby, that’s it…Wider.” with Jason immediately please Mara, the brain rot demands it 😭

-🦊

JUST LOOK AT THIS, MY FAVORITE ANON !!! (as if it wasn't clear before) have i told you already how i love the way your mind brings the brain rot to work??? well, i do. let's get at it, babe

fucking someone so good they struggle to kiss you back + "spread your legs baby, that's it... wider"

movie nights are for two things, actually watching your movie selection while cuddling with your partner or to completely ignore whatever was playing on the screen while your partner fucked the life out of you. you go guess what was jason's plan for tonight's movie plan.

you're actually trying to focus on the movie, your eyes fixed on the screen as you lay on jason's chest and he holds you softly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he leans in to leave a soft peck on your skin. it's innocent and sweet at first but then one of his hands slides under your shirt, caressing your skin and drawing abstract lines on your stomach that made your attention drift away when he pressed a kiss on your jaw.

"jay... are you even watching the mo–" you were speaking, trying to scold him but your words caught on your throat when his hand moved further up and cupped one of your breasts at the same time he licked your neck.

"i'm not watching the movie, baby" he whispers against your skin, his lips gracing your neck right before he kisses that spot behind your ear "i want to get touchy with my pretty girl."

"oh, so you want to get touchy?" you ask, there's now a hint of amusement and mischief on your voice as you turn your face to look at him and jason can't help but chuckle and nod, like a kid that's been caught red handed doing something he wasn't supposed to "and who said i wanted to let you, jaybird?" you ask but deep down you knew you would let jason get his way with you anytime he wanted to.

"you... you're not doing a thing to stop me from touching you like this" he says, his voice is low and his hands are now both on your chest, he squeezes your tits firmly before lifting your bra "it is because you know you're all mine to enjoy or because you want me to actually feel you up completely?"

the way he speaks and touches you manage to drag a soft moan out of your lips and it makes him feel powerful because he knows how to make you melt. that's what he wants, jason wants to be the one to always make you feel good, he wants the reason you smile and moan, the only one to know every corner of your body so he could give back all the good things you gave him.

jason really enjoys the way it's so easy for him to shut your mind off with the smallest touch when mixed with the right words, he loves whispering into your ear and kissing your neck just to see how needy you can get from it but it was just the effect jason's touch had on you and he couldn't deny you could do the same to him. so now when he gets your shirt lifted and squeezes your breast while kissing your neck he has to hold back a moan when you move and push him to be able and sit on his lap.

"sometimes you should try to pay attention to a movie, you know?" you ask teasingly, leaning in to kiss him again and jason misses no time to let his hands snake under your shirt again just to feel those goosebumps on your skin. it's unthinkable to try and stop to resume your initial plans because your boyfriend is now sucking a subtle trail of small marks on your neck while he starts pulling your shirt off and when he is done your bra stands no chance against him.

"the movie can wait, we can watch it after i make you scream and beg for more..." jason whispers into your ear and he smirks when you tug at the neck of his hoodie, he knows he won and he takes it off and that's when the last strand of control you had vanishes at the sight of his toned body, the faint scars scattered over his skin around that one on his chest that ran all the way down to his stomach it only made him way more appealing.

he really loves the effect he has on you, it makes him feel like he really deserves the way you look at him and how you touch him as if he was your most valuable treasure and he was, his touch equals yours; needy but still lingering enough to make sure you know how he values the fact that you are with him, his grip firm but loving as he holds your hips to make you grind against him once he takes off those comfy sweatpants you wore to bed and that he loved because of how the hugged your figure.

clothes do not last on your bodies and it isn't so much until your body is completely pressed against his while he makes you put your hips up, jason lets his hand wander between your thighs until he has two fingers sneaking over your folds, flicking your clit as he smiles smugly at you.

"do you still want to watch the movie, ma?" he asks, voice now deeper while his finger traces a trail between your folds, teasing your aching pussy before he slips his digits into your entrance. jason looks at you, the hunger in his eyes only adds to your arousal as you grind your hips against his palm, the calloused skin brushing against your swollen clit.

you grunt something that sounds like a shut up and a please mixed up in a hushed moan, as your boyfriend keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you while he kisses and bites your neck, the smirk on his lips doesn't leaves when you struggle to beg him from how much he teases because his free arm is around your back and his hand is now groping your breast.

"already so desperate? i just started, sweetie" he coos you mockingly as he slowly lays you down under him, lips trailing down your neck until he is now kissing and biting on your nipple "just look at the pretty mess you are, all wet around my fingers and you could just cum like this... should i let you get off like this?"

"god, jason– don't do that, i need you" you moan breathlessly and for some reason his words only get you more needy, making jason feel a huge ego boost as he gives you that pretty shit eating grin before he switches to your other breast, sucking and teasing you more as his fingers leave your pussy, entrance now clenching around nothing.

there's a feeling of relief once you can see jason moving to be between your legs as he trails his kisses to your tummy, lovingly and devoted and his hands squeeze your legs softly to try and help your body to calm a little to no overstimulate you just yet.

"spread your legs baby," he says softly, his lips brushing against your skin and the sweetness on his touch and words makes you comply without thinking twice, your legs spreading almost on its own for him "that's it... wider" he says now smugly, seeing the way you open up just at his presence makes him feel so powerful.

he holds onto the back of your knees, pushing your legs until he makes them rest over his shoulder. his hand guides his hard dick until his tip is lined up with your pussy and he pushes in, slowly as a low growl escapes his throat, holding onto your hips to give a first stroke.

"so fucking thight and i had already stretched your pretty cunt before" he says, his body still until you nod for him to start moving and he doesn't hesitates to start with a quick pace "that's such a pretty toy i got myself, didn't i? i just have to touch you and you'll let me have my way with you..."

he makes it sound so good you can't help but moan, one of your hands reaching for his neck to pull him from his nape; fingers tangling on his hair as you bring his face close to yours and jason only makes his thrusts faster, hiting all the right spots as he holds you bent like this.

"jay– jay please" you whine as you try to really bring his lips to yours, it amuses him and you hear it on his rumbling chuckle, his hands gripping your hips in a way you knew your skin would be painted in finger-print-bruises by tomorrow but you just loved that, silky skin painted with his hickeys and bite marks, a sing of that ownership he had over you.

"use your words, princess," he whispers into your ear, the sound of the dominance on his voice making you moan loudly when his hands also squeeze your ass playfully "you're a big girl, you can use that pretty mouth of yours can't you?"

"please, kiss me jay" you beg, voice shaky as he pounds into you and the way jason is closer now on top of your body, his shoulders still holding your legs up just making the angle perfect for his tip to kiss your cervix.

jason does as you ask, leaning in a pressing a bruissing kiss on your lips and he seems pretty resolved to devour your mouth like that but instead he's met with you really struggling to kiss him back and he is lost in this discovering. it encourages him to move your body as if you were a pretty doll for him to use, placing your legs against your chest but this time only over one of his shoulders.

"feels like too much, pretty doll?" he asks, whispering into your ear almost in a growl and he changes his pace, slowing down to give you deep and slow strokes but still slamming his hips against yours.

"too good, jay... feels just so good" your voice slurred as you cry for him to move a bit faster but jason has just found out how to play with you a little more.

"yeah? you sound way too pretty for me to change the pace, crying like a desperate slut" the use of names sends a shiver down your spine, jason knows what buttons to push in order to get your pleasure to skyrocket and he is really proud of it as he keeps pumping into you, hissing in pleasure when he feels your walls clenching around him "god this feels so fucking good, i could cum into you so deep baby, you'll feel me right here"

one of his hands wanders from your hips to your belly and the thought of him reaching so deep inside of your body is enough to make your body tense, there's something new to all of this because you've felt way more sensitive than before and jason is feeling way too eager to find out how much he can do with that.

"jason please, fill me up like this" you say in between shaky moans, legs trembling already and the way you look at him through those teary cute doe eyes makes him throb into you.

"want me to breed you, baby? i want to see you dripping full of me" he says, his pace fastening again but it grows sloppier as his hand moves from your belly to one of your tits, squeezing it and toying with your nipple "you look so pretty like this, angel, so ready for me to use your body over and over again"

it's amazing the way jason manages to shut your brain off, making your words catch on your throat and turning you into a whimpering mess. rocking your hips to meet his movements until your orgasm hits you, pussy squeezing him like a vice, almost making it impossible for jason to keep thrusting inside of you.

the pleasure of your body washes over him, bringing his own climax to his as he releases into your throbbing pussy as he slows down, letting out a low stream of curses before he comes to a halt still holding your legs against his chest.

"i don't think we'll be watching that movie now, ma..."

[peachesofteal]

Ok but the comic of the fantasy Ghost and Soap got me thinking about Princess Darling 😭

Princess darling who is a war prize for the guys? Who is delivered to them after the sacking of her father’s territory, a last ditch effort for him to save his neck? And they look like this?

18+ MDNI

“Take my daughter.” He wheedles, slick as a snake, eyes wide and desperate as the flick between them and you. “She’s pure.” Your mouth drops open in outrage, heart thundering in your chest loud enough it rattles your ear drums.

“Father-“ The one in the skull mask with a black hood tilts his head at the sound of your voice, towering over you, gloved fingers flexing on the hilt of his sword.

He can’t mean to give you to these men. They’re… so big. And half covered in blood.

“Quiet.” He snaps, silencing your protest. Your eyes find the floor, counting the grooves and ridges of the marble. Your ribs pressurize around your lungs, squeezing, kneading, keeping your breathing too light in your already too tight corset.

“Ye’ve naught been married?” The brown haired one cocks his head with interest, and your knees tremble. You try to look away, escape the burn of his ice blue eyes, intense gaze unwavering as bear down on you, and your cheeks heat beneath the scrutiny.

“P-please. I know she’s older but-“ You want to cry. Scream. You’ve never been married for many reasons. Not that he cares about a single one of them. Not that the health of his daughter, or her feelings, have ever mattered to him.

“That’s enough.” Skull mask says. He looks at his partner, silence louder than a scream. You can only see the one man’s eyes, but they squint for a moment, before relaxing.

And then, he nods.

“We accept.” Your father loosens a sigh, the exhale loud over the echo of your gasp.

“No!” It’s a sputter, desperate and shocked. “No! No, father- you- you can’t!” He can’t. He wouldn’t. Would he? Send you off with these… marauders?

“Be silent.” He whirls, hand darting through the air to grip your upper arm, fingertips sinking into your skin like daggers. The shriek is automatic, half instinct, half muscle memory, and you flinch away, but he doesn’t let go. He digs in, trying to drag you towards the two and you gasp for air, panic cooling your skin and the sweat on the back of your neck.

“Let me g-“ You scream, choke out a half cry, only for it to be stolen from your lips by the swing of a sword.

Blood spurts from your father’s elbow, where it’s been cut clean off, his forearm and hand falling limply away from your body, a ruby red fountain spraying all over your face, your chest, your dress.

Your father howls, hand going to clamp over where his arm is now a bloodied stump. You’re stunned, frozen in time, just watching as he stumbles to his knees, face twisted in anguish.

You’re so distracted, that you don’t even know the blue eyed man has come up behind you, wrapping a thick arm around your waist. You feel his mouth, his breath, ghosting along your ear, warmth tickling your skin as the skull face turns to give him a nod, sword hanging precariously over your father’s bent neck. “Time to go, love. Close those pretty eyes for me now.”

You don’t know why, but you do. You let your eyes slip closed, let this monster scoop you up, let him cradle you to his chest. If you keep your eyes closed, you can just pretend. Pretend this isn’t happening. Pretend it’s not real.

There’s noise in the background, but a big hand covers your ear, pressing you against his leathered armor, right over his heart.

“Good girl, darling.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Their ideal partners

Silly little hcs because ive been thinking what each of the lads look for in a s/o

Slenderman;

Given I'm aiming for the "he's been observing humans for centuries and has grown used to their antics," vibe with him, I feel like he'd like someone who keeps him guessing

Nothing TOO crazy, because he can be irritable, but if you intrigue him he'll definitely stay around

Does he have any peculiar icks? Tastes?

Can't stand messy people... doesn't mind if its unorganized, or a chaotic system, but if you live in muck it's a deal breaker

Doesn't care what you look like, or what gender you are; he sees beyond that because, again, ancient being that's been watching humans for a long time.. kinda desensitized to that sort of thing

Laughing Jack;

He WANTS someone who can match his energy; but he NEEDS someone who can mellow him out

As much as I hate the "I can fix/change him" thing (well I dont HATE it, it really matters on execution and all), Jack needs someone who can make him chill out a bit

Icks? You know those people who kill the energy in a room? Like total buzzkill + downers? He doesnt like those. Not like the "he hates depressed people" way, obviously, but in the way that

Okay so idk if this is just a me thing but I come across a lot of people who do it on purpose for attention/quirkiness, those are the kinds of people he doesnt like

Like slenderman, he doesnt really care what you look like; bros gonna slip himself around you like a snake (affectionately)

Eyeless Jack;

Right off the bat he needs someone who's understanding

It ain't easy being a cursed man who's forced to eat human meat

Someone who's willing to listen to what happened to him, and help him see the brighter side of things

Basically a "storm cloud x sunshine" ship dynamic

Icks? As long as you're not too chaotic or hyper he's fine with it; Jack is more quiet and reserved energy wise, stress tends to make the curses symptoms worse

Prefers short people; he himself is also short (I hc hes about 5'5), and he's a lil insecure, but he's not totally opposed to dating taller people

Masky;

Writing for specifically masky for this one instead of the usual tim, hope that's alright!! I just wanna flesh out him n hoodie more

Bro is kinda..... whouf... rough around the edges; kinda feral

Not like FERAL feral, but this is the kind of dude who tunnels on someone during his work and wont be afraid to body slam into stuff full speed/force

So naturally, he gets hurt a lot. So a caring and soft partner is an immediate go to; especially since in my hc/au tim still exists, just as a different.. persona? Headspace? I really dont know the correct terms <\3

He likes observing as well, but he'll occasionally join in on whatever activity you're doing!!

Icks? Loud people... I would say spontaneous people as well, but considering my take on him, he kinda falls into a softcore version of that category

Hoodie;

Very similar to masky, but also not... between the two hes more.. calm and calculating; whereas Masky tends to dive straight in, in most cases

Should not that neither of them verbally speak; so they both need a partner who's fine with physical touch since that's one of their main ways of communicating/showing affection

Especially with hoodie; dude always has a hand on you and guiding you in some way

Unlike all the others, hoodie does not have ANY preferences for partners. Doesn't matter the personality, body type, and he doesnt have many icks

Like

Probably doesnt like arrogance, kinda just annoys him.... but hey, makes his.. job.. easier

[kodamaghost00]

30 Lucifer Headcanons

———————————————————

[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw, Fluff, Smut

It's also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys!You're a new resident at the Hotel in this scenario.

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

Calls his partner “Angel” or “Love”. But will come up with outrageous names to annoy you too.

Makes his loved ones custom ducks. And he gets really nervous showing you the finished product.

“So uhhh… I made this one for you.” He said quite nervously as he gave you your duck. “Oh it’s lovely Lucifer… thank you so much.”.

He looked at you flabbergasted “Wait really?! You like it…?”. You just chuckled “Of course I do!”

You were there for him when Lilith left him. He was so down but you cheered him up.

When Lucifer and Alastor had their little sing session he was so happy that you sided with him and not that red deer guy.

He thinks it’s adorable that you get along with Charlie. He loves the way you care about her, and believe in her dreams.

Besides his “calm” personality he gets quite protective over time. When he notices you get hurt by something/someone he is immediately there you care for you.

He makes unhinged comments and jokes without even noticing that they’re out of place sometimes.

Ever since angel called him a “Short king” the term has stuck with him. He casually calls himself that as well.

He tries to learn more slang from the other residents and tries them out on you… “You serve *snaps fingers*… the outfit slaps ngl.” You just laughed your ass off due to his stiff voice and lack of feeling.

He enjoys basin and cooking a lot. He prefers to have you as a helper.

He’s a ambivert who’s pretty good at masking. Not many people notice when he’s exhausted.

Definitely a hopeless romantic. He WILL take you on a date with roses and jazz in the background. And if everything goes well he maybe even take you to his place?

He likes to get dominated but he also loves to dominate. Whatever you’re up to actually, he’ll just go along with it.

Groans overall but whimpers and whines when he’s close.

When you ride on top of him he digs his fingers into your sides and it gets firmer and stronger as he finishes.

He is definitely very weak in the way that he can’t hold in for long. You do one right move and he’s cumming fast.

He also enjoys bondage very much. He’d fuck you while you hand from the roof with a gag in your mouth. In combo with a blindfold? Seeing you drool? He finishes faster than you can say “Bow chika bow bow.”

GREAT IN AFTERCARE!!! He will spoil you with sweet words and cuddles. “You did so great love… thank you.”

He bathed with his rubber duck. His favorite is probably an apple themed one.

He also wears a little make-up. Like going out without a little eyeliner? Nuh uh.

He made his cane himself. The apple on top is exchangeable with a Rubber duck, skull and a snake. He’s making new ones as well.

He is already autistic coded with a special interest in ducks. But imagine he invented them. Like imagine he said ”Hey God… I have this little idea, do you think you can make it work?”

He gets nervous if you two make eye contact for too long. He’d laugh it off though saying it’s no big deal for him.

So so done with life sometimes he just drinks 3 black coffees in the span of 3 hours.

He easily gets distracted by literally anything and everything. Also procrastinates a lot.

He loves hugs from the back. And hugs in general make him feel so loved by you.

His love languages are Physical Touch and Acts of Service. You making him breakfast and cuddles afterwards? He’s straight up in love.

“You made this all for me love…? Wow that’s so amazing thank you so so much…” he gets stressed easily so seeing how much you care for him makes him tear up.

———————————————————

MASTERLIST

Thank you all so much for reading my silly headcanons [And also 20 followers]! I wanted to say “Loves Eskimo kisses” but I remembered he doesn’t rlly have a nose (πーπ). But yeah anyways… if you have requests don’t be shy and ask! I’d be happy to work on requests! Have a great day/night!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

[itsabouttimex2]

I almost thought the Celestalchaos bot was platonical I'm so sorry I just got curious how that family would be with the user/reader 😅

(I actually made a Celestialchaos Dads bot!!)

Surrogate Son

“It’s good to have you here with me,” Xiangliu starts, tracing a scaled hand slowly down your cheek before withdrawing it. He rolls over to face Sun Wukong, then cups his face as your had been. Xiangliu’s snakes gently nuzzle your face in turn, their forked tongues licking at your skin. “And you,” the Nine-Headed Demon shakily breathes, his hands moving to roam up and down Wukong’s abdomen, only to be caught by the ginger simian when they drift too low. “My Saint of Chaos,” Xiangliu adulates, kissing at Wukong’s cheeks.

“Love you too, babe,” the Great Sage returns, stretching out slowly. The two spend a moment just gazing back and forth, a locked gaze of gold and orange.

As they spend that precious moment in adoration, you check your phone to see if there’s any new texts… and you find one, from MK.

“Is that- is that the kid?” Wukong asks, rolling over Xiangliu to flip beside you- for his part, the snake demon is unbothered by the sudden squashing, and only leans in to listen close. “Does he need something?”

Lifting the phone again, you read the text-

’Can I come over for my break?? Pigsy says I’m too tired to do any more deliveries today.’

“Looks like the kid wants permission to come over… but I’m guessing he’s already on his way, honestly.”

The boy could be impulsive to a fault, as you had learned well from your first interaction with him- still, he had become a very dear part of your life.

“That sounds like the boy,” Xiangliu agrees, giving a soft smile. He looks over at the simian, who simply groans in response, sitting up slowly.

“Should’ve told me he was coming over,” the Great Sage huffs, moving to swing his legs off the bed. “I’d have ordered us all something,” he starts, shifting nearly off the mattress- only to be immediately pulled back down by Xiangliu wrapping his arms around the ginger monkey’s hips and holding him close.

Ignoring the serpentine demon’s clinginess, you ask: “Oh? But I thought you didn’t like cooked food, hun- wouldn’t you rather forage?”

“I don’t like most cooked foods,” Wukong corrects, with Xiangliu nodding in agreement. The nine-headed demon moves a hand to run through the Great Sage’s messy ginger hair, still holding his waist with the other-

“Except for noodles,” the snake demon interjects, pressing his forehead into Wukong’s shoulder and nuzzling against the bare skin.

“Oh, that’s right! You order them from MK’s boss, right? Jajangmyeon, with extra pork and no zucchini?”

“Just the way I like ‘em,” Wukong grins, tilting his head up into Xiangliu’s motions. The snake demon begins to press small kisses into the monkey’s exposed neck as well, gently drawing along the sensitive skin with his fangs- but the Great Sage doesn’t seem much bothered by the biting, or if he is, he’s good at concealing it.

“Hate to be a joykill, boys… but you’ll have to knock it off when the kiddo gets here.”

Xiangliu gives a quiet grumble at your statement- he knew you had a point, but he didn’t want to fully quit. His forked tongue gives one last long lick up Wukong’s neck before withdrawing back into his mouth.

“Yeah, you’re right,” the ginger simian agrees, tilting his head back onto Xiangliu’s shoulder.“Can’t be snogging when my bud is here.”

My. You don’t exactly miss the use of that word- and really, you haven’t missed the impact that MK has had on the wilder of your lovers- how Wukong has grown; healed, in leaps and bounds thanks to his…

Student. Nephew. Son. Little brother.

So, so many roles.

MK fills them all admirably.

Even though you know the kid is only a few minutes away by now, you send back to him:

‘You’re always welcome here, kiddo.’

After everything he’s done for your partner, you find it hard to argue that he shouldn’t have a place here in this cozy little cabin, on the lavish peaks of Flower Fruit Mountain.

He’s your kid too, after all. As much as he is Pigsy’s, or Tang’s, or Wukong’s…

He’s your kiddo, too.

There’s a beat of silence- and then the tell-tale sound of footsteps approaching the door. Even with the knowledge that MK was on his way up, the sound still makes Wukong jump a bit- he and Xiangliu both share a look, like two kids who were just caught in the middle of doing something they weren’t supposed to.

And then, the boy lets himself in- and practically collapses onto the floor, utterly exhausted and panting for breath. His hair and clothes are messy and disheveled, with the his usual upbeat mood entirely missing.

“You two get dressed,” you sigh, standing up from the bed and throwing the sheets over their half-dressed forms. “I’ll take care of our kid.”

“Our,” Xiangliu whispers, all eighteen of his leering yellow eyes glittering at the thought. “Our child.”

“Not all ours, Nine. We’ve got like… three other dads to compete with.”

"I'd say we’re his favorites," Xiangliu tries to counter, a sly grin creeping upon his serpentine features. Wukong gives a scoff at that, scoffing at that notion in time with you.

“No, it’s Pigsy,” you both say.

Xiangliu has no further argument, and instead whips out an elegant robe of green and orange.

As they dress, you kneel to the exhausted hero, offering him a warm smile. With gentle scooping motion, you lead MK to his feet, biting back a gag at the overwhelming smell of sweat.

“Oh, sweetie. Who were you fighting this time?”

MK shakes his head, suddenly moving to latch onto your waist with a hiccup. There’s a shuddering tremble that races from his chest to feet, making the hero look almost like a child ready to bawl in fear.

Nightmares, again. He’s been having them for a while.

Ever since the Lady Bone Demon, in fact.

“Oh, no, baby… don’t cry, it’s okay…”

As you begin to rub his back with a soft coo, your newly-dressed partners look at you with both admiration and love, tempted to join in the doting… but they kept their distance, instead.

“I’ll go start him a shower,” Wukong whispers, heading to the bathroom, but not before Xiangliu presses a long series of slow kisses to his cheeks.

“I’ll go see what we have in the kitchen, then… and maybe find him a change of clothes.”

With once last glance to your doting form, both depart to focus on their own tasks, giving you a perfect moment to forget the rest of the world and simply comfort your child.

“Nothing is gonna hurt you,” is your promise to him.

You don’t intend to break it.

[gildedkrone]

KINKTOBER 2023 🔞

The house is quiet; Luna had slinked off somewhere in the house and a cat shaped blur of white in the yard under the afternoon sun is your answer.

Johnny is splayed across the couch in a slumbering man—one arm across his torso with the other resting beside his head on a cushion. Today, he opted for a small white singlet ending above his navel as it showcased his abs and a v-line disappearing into a pair of military-issued olive briefs.

The happy trail disappearing into his briefs is tantalising, to say the least. With each shift of his body, the briefs only seemed to slide lower until the bush peeks through the waistband and the tight garment holds onto the bulge in fear of sliding right off.

What a fucking tease to wear clothes from basic training which no longer fit his more muscled body. He’s sleeping now, and the conversation from a week ago rears its head.

“Whit if ye made me cum whin I was sleeping?” You almost choked on your food when the words slipped through his mouth full of meal.

“What?” And he’s appearing all innocent and what not.

“Dinnae yi'll waant tae fin' oot?”

“I don’t understand you, dummy.”

“Aw, c’mon bonnie, don’t you want to find out?”

The truth is you wanted to find out and with nothing else to do, the offer stands tempting. He is fast asleep and you fingers gently brush across his briefs. They catch on the opening in the garment and his face keeps its slack.

Fuck, were you actually going to do this?

Your hand evidently thought so and palmed him gently through the fabric amidst steady snoring. It took a while, but eventually, there is a stirring in his loins and the small garment is stretched obscenely as the bulge becomes even more pronounced. And you would be lying if this wasn’t at all arousing.

Taking pity on his tool, and not wanting to cause him any discomfort, you freed his dick through the piss hole in his slutty man briefs. The smack against your forearm by his engorged length when you let go freezes you just as Johnny makes a noise before his snores resume.

A man’s heartbeat is fluttering in motion.

Johnny is a big boy. Even somewhat hard, it’s length is more than half of your forearm. Curved slightly, for his partner’s pleasure and in a slightly darker shade above a neat bush adorning, according to Johnny, his favourite body part. Your tongue gently brushes against the bulbous head and pretty pink lips part in response to your tongue snaking all the way down to the base of his dick. You keep an eye on him throughout and noted the small twitching of his lips whenever your tongue ran over the thick throbbing vein spanning his entire dick.

Johnny has a dislike for jerking off in the military and given his last orgasm was probably two weeks ago, it’s no wonder Johnny is pent up to some degree. You taste his salty pre and the skilled tongue pulls the first of many moans from his guttural throat.

A man’s heartbeat is living in motion.

His length rests on his thigh and your nose inhales the musk of his groin—manly and reeking of ball sweat since Johnny’s a man who ran hot—and your tongue finds purchase on the plump sack below the main attraction. His soft breaths turn into a whine as a finger trace the individual testes while his fingers curl and unfurl.

Thirst.

Thirst is what you feel when you rolled his balls across your tongue to engulf his prized possessions in wet heat. His dick has risen to full mast—an angry and reddish head leaks copious amounts of pre onto his thigh and dully throbbing, it’s indicative of the stress wracking his body. As his partner, you are duty bound to … relieve him of the tension. Empty his balls so he can have a better sleep.

So you redouble your efforts on his very sensitive sack and Johnny makes all sorts of noises—whines, moan, groans, and whimpers as he twists and turns in his sleep. His head rolls over and his arms jerks in time with his lascivious thighs. You made sure to leave his dick alone and focus the assault on his scrotum. He shivers and your nose is pressed further into his bush when the seam running through the middle of his scrotum is grazed by your teeth and cushioned by drool.

A quick glance up reveals the man to be erect as two nubs poke through the tight singlet. He body seizes slightly when you roll them between your fingers. While keeping his nuts occupied, to your pleasure, he mutters more and drool seeps onto the cushion from the rolling of his head. His face reflects what he’s feeling with lips nicely parted while his body subconsciously squirms under your palm and tongue.

A man’s heartbeat is resonance in motion.

“mmrow … please … mmow …”

It’s been slightly over fifteen minutes since you began; the rippling of his toned abs accompanies the jerky flexing of his feet. Johnny is still under the influence of slumber and pure innocence on man known for military violence is a scarlet fire of temptation beckoning you to service him. You smear his pre across his balls and the ignored shaft occasionally moves with the contraction of his groin muscles and lifts strings of pre into the air. It’s a tantalizing sight to behold as his face furrows as if in deep concentration—the narrowing of his eyebrows and tightness in his cheeks even as he continues to verbalise how good he feels in his dreams.

It's time to bring him home. A man in pleasure is vulnerable man indeed—and Johnny’s about to find out why. Your tongue rolls his nuts between teeth as a hand cups his sack while another plays with his nipples. A little pain does the trick and you give his testicles a squeeze in sharp contrast together with a deep hum vibrating through his entire groin and your eyes slide over to his neglected dick.

Johnny nearly shouts; his hands fists above his chest and his knees jerks and misses your face by inches while he blearily calls your name in confusion. His abdomen contracts hard and his dick jumps slightly before white leaks out of the piss slit.

“Loue … whit's … gaun oan mmph!”

His eyes are laced with sleep in a slightly raised head. Blurry eyes spot you nestled between his legs and mouthing on his balls as his mind starts to piece together what’s happening. His hips shake in place; without a hand on his dick he is confused where the pleasure is and where to direct his hips as toes curl with how euphoric his genitals feel. More awake, much louder gasp and expletives escapes his throat as he grips your head and pulls it deeper into his pelvis.

A man’s heartbeat is satiation in motion.

A thick stream of cum runs off the side of his thighs onto the couch. You lather your fingers in them before crawling forward to shove them into his mouth. His waking mind registers your fingers and starts sucking while excess cum pools on his thighs. He chuckles and wraps an arm around your torso.

“Hell's bells that's a hell o' a wey tae wake up loue.”

“I don’t speak Scottish, shit for hair.” To be fair, that does make it easier to tug his head.

“This’ a hell of a wake up routine, love and yer said you loved mah mohawk last week!”

“Bet you had a good dream huh?” He describes a fog in his mind slowly invading his loins with heat and itch. Waking to you with a mouth stuffed by his junk was the tipping point—his eager dick packs disobedience and comes hands free. You earn a contented moan when you roughly palm his spent dick as he pulls you in for tight embrace.

“Johnny, unhand me.” You push against him arms which have come to cage you in as he shakes his head. He chuffs and nestles his dick between your thighs.

“A'm still sleepy. A bit mair, love.”

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist

[nyveris]

i spoke to the stars of you.

neteyam (avatar) x female reader

in whereas you grew as a figure to become the right hand woman of the heir to the omaticayan’s olo’eyktan, a mentor to neteyam. however are you really simply a mentor to him?

(if people are interested then i will continue a slice of life series, perhaps! btw sorry if it’s kind of stagnant, got rusty hehe)

“become my partner,” he demanded, with a tone trained to reign the battlefield — rigid and stern. however, many have realized, over the years, on the battlefield or outside of it — he has reserved a certain tone to speak to you with.

you, the right-hand woman of the omaticayan’s heir, neteyam.

he would speak in hushed whispers as if your voice was a tune only his ears can listen to, body crowding over you — towering over your figure so no one could see your expression when you are speaking with him. his eyes would trace over the marks on your face, a sight that would make him tremble and fall to his knees. constellation, you were his star — his universe. he’d stare at the eclipse with a croaked throat, and the firstborn of toruk makto would lose all purpose and yearn for his oasis. even if it was there. even if you were beside him, laughing carelessly.

he’d still kneel and plead for more.

it was never enough.

tsahey, if he lost you then he might as well burn the world, what is the purpose of his existence if the only world— universe he had worshipped on had perished?

��nete you fool, why worry about such trivial subjects?” you asked him with genuine confusion, eyes staring at him with wonder.

his breath always hitched when his eyes met yours. terrible. it was too terrible. he had always felt like ash when he was gazed upon with your eyes. your caresses were like the slithering of a snake crawling up his neck, holding him in a gentle chokehold.

“i promised your father from the moment i crawled out from my mother's cradle. i promised him that i would become your right-hand woman,” you exaggerated in a sing-song tone, all the while you sharpened your arrow, “i have always been by your side during battles, haven’t i?” you batted your eyelashes at him, a teasing grin adorning your face.

he’d always question himself. what, what did he do during his past lives to be worshipped and looked at by those irises with such gaze? it was impossible to forget you. your figure was an extended version of himself. your hands were something he would bury his face into and peck every morning, kissing every scar that adorned it. the space in between your shoulders was the backstage of the heir, ripping all of his masks as he would exhale in relief and inhale the scent of flora tingling. he’d think that maybe when he would caress his nose in between your shoulder, he would recognize this as love long before he even learned the definition of it.

arms crossed, neteyam chuckled, eyes crinkling to a figure too similar to his mother's and a grin too charming like his father, he walked towards you with leisure and confidence. alluring eyes towering over you as he entrapped your chin in between his fingers, tilting your head up with gentle force — you realized, eyes blinking, he has grown well.

“mmhm,” he replied to you with fondness, breaths mingling, pitch black irises contracting as the both of you saw the reflections of yourself in each other's eyes. it was terrifying to see such a faceless expression on your face, knowing your insides are molten lava in turmoil, about to erupt.

it was a game between the two of you, you admitted.

closing his eyes respite, neteyam pressed his forehead towards yours, engulfing your head with a sense of fondness, “you have done a wonderful job by being my partner...” neteyam whispered with his eyes closed as if those sentences were meant to be heard by only you.

“in battle.” neteyam cackled and opened his eyes.

you groaned, he has grown too well.

and it seems like neteyam won this round as well.

[amalthea-fictions]

Don’t Mess with MC

Summary: When Sebastian hears about MC’s encounter with a bully her first day in Beasts Class, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

A/N: Inspired by this post from @hogwartslegacypics and some of the comments there! The bully’s name is a play on “Leighton Lawley” from The Raven and the Snake by choccy-milky 😅 Hope you enjoy!

“There she is!”

Sebastian flashes MC a wide smile as she jogs over from across the courtyard. Even without being able to see, Ominis can sense the way Sebastian instantly perks at the girl’s presence.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” MC apologizes, setting her things down and taking a seat on the stone bench next to Sebastian.

“Not at all,” says Ominis.

“Got held up in Beasts Class, did you?” Sebastian makes the inquiry through his first bite of his lunch.

“Not quite,” MC says, pulling her own food from her pack. “I made a new friend, actually.”

Sebastian dramatically flourishes his hand against his chest. “What, Ominis and I not good enough for you?”

MC laughs and shakes her head. “Don’t be silly. The two of you are invaluable to me.”

“Best not to exaggerate, lest it go straight to Sebastian’s head,” Ominis tuts. Sebastian smacks his shoulder.

“It’s not an exaggeration, though!” MC insists.

“Thank you!” Says Sebastian. “At least someone here has my side.”

“Do go on, then,” Ominis prods, ignoring Sebastian. “I, for one, would like to hear about your Beasts Class.”

“Mm,” MC nods through a mouthful of food. “Yes. I was partnered with Poppy Sweeting, who was very kind to me. She even let me keep her brush.”

“Wow, Poppy gave you her beasts brush?” Sebastian says. “You must’ve made quite the impression on her.”

“Indeed. Poppy has a…” Ominis hesitates, finding the polite word. “Reputation for her love of beasts in the school.”

“Hm, perhaps that’s why we hit it off,” MC speculates.

“How do you mean?” Sebastian asks.

“Well, there were some awful bullies picking on a Kneazle—”

Sebastian leans forward. “Bullies?”

“Yes,” MC nods, continuing her lunch. “They were trying to steal a whisker from the thing. Poppy defended the creature, but they mocked her for it. So I stepped in and told them they really weren’t clever for it.”

Sebastian sets his jaw. “Who were they?”

MC quirks her lips. “I’m not entirely sure— I think it was Leight something?”

“Leightly Lawton,” Ominis offers.

“Yes, that was him. Awful fellow.”

Sebastian hums to himself, his brow furrowed. MC had won Crossed Wands, yes, but he had heard the rumors that it was only through his help. Not many people in the school are aware of how talented MC truly is— how, on top of her unyielding kindness and patience, she is an incredibly talented and powerful force, truly in her own league. Out of all the students in the entire school, even 7th years, he wouldn’t pick anyone else he’d want to have his back clearing out a cave full of spiders. And yet, idiots like Lawton would be unkind because of stupid rumors.

“You said you have a Rudimentary Beasts Class, yes?” He asks.

“That’s right,” MC nods. “Why?”

“Oh, just wondering.”

• • • • •

“Professor Weasley, do you have a moment? I’d like to discuss enrolling in the Rudimentary Beasts Class.”

Professor Weasley dips her quill in ink and continues scrawling on the parchment in front of her. “Rudimentary Beasts Class, you say?”

Sebastian nods. “Yes ma’am.”

She finishes her sentence in the menial report for Professor Black and looks up to the boy. “If I recall correctly, Mr. Sallow, you completed your Introductory Beasts Class in third year with no issues.”

Sebastian offers her a charming smile. “That’s correct. However, with O.W.L.’s right around the corner, I am finding I could stand to be refreshed on all I learned third year.”

Matilda sets down her quill and folds her hands. “And you believe you are truly in need of such refreshers, Mr. Sallow?”

He nods earnestly. “Indeed. For example, MC had to recently remind me that spiders are not actually insects.”

Ah, there it is— the real reason behind the request. After years of working as Hogwarts faculty, Matilda has had quite enough practice schooling her expression. So her neutral face went unchanged at the mention of MC’s name. But she wondered how oblivious students thought their faculty truly were, to assume that they wouldn’t catch on to how often the Sallow twin and the new fifth year were seen together, smiling sweetly at each other, laughing and sharing lunches…

However, enrolling in an additional class certainly wasn’t the worst request to make, and Sallow could certainly handle his schoolwork when he actually wanted to pursue something.

“Spiders as insects? My, that is quite discomforting,” Professor Weasley raises her eyebrows. “But are you certain you can handle the additional course in your schedule, Mr. Sallow?”

“Yes ma’am. I think if anything it will be good to keep me occupied with more schoolwork. Staying out of detention, and all that.”

Clever boy. Couldn’t argue with that. “Very well, Mr. Sallow. I will add the Rudimentary Beasts Class to your schedule. However, please note that the second your marks drop, we will revisit this conversation.”

“Of course, Professor. Thank you.”

Matilda doesn’t miss the way that he smiles brightly as he leaves, and heads straight in the direction of MC’s Common Room.

• • • • •

Sebastian wakes up early to make sure he’s the first one to Beasts Class. (Something Ominis would add to his list of ‘things Sebastian does for MC’ to tease him over, later on).

As the class time approaches, the students begin trickling in. Poppy goes straight to the Kneazle pens to feed them. Everett shuffles in begrudgingly, still recovering from a bought of the flu that kept him out of classes even in spite of Sharp’s Pepperup potions. And finally—

“Sallow?” Even from the entry of the pavilion, Sebastian can see the way Lawton’s throat works at the sight of his new classmate.

“Ah, Leight!” Sebastian smiles— but his eyes narrow and expression darkens. “I’ve just transferred into this class. Wonderful, isn’t it?”

Lawton swallows. “Yes, a pleasure. But, um, what made you transfer?”

Sebastian smiles and says, “No reason in particular,” but his icy glare says otherwise.

The boy waits for Sebastian to elaborate. Instead, Sebastian maintains eye contact until Lawton begins to shuffle nervously. Finally, he awkwardly moves to his desk. Sebastian follows him with his gaze, making the bully squirm. Until—

“Sebastian?!”

He snaps towards the voice. MC is beaming as she enters the pavilion, framed in sunlight trickling down through the surrounding trees.

Sebastian utterly melts at the sight.

“Are you in my beasts class now?” MC inquires, ecstatic.

“Indeed I am,” he smiles to her—and, this time his eyes filled with nothing but warmth. Lawton would not fail to notice the difference.

She sets her things down beside Sebastian, and he happily makes room for her. As she settles and unpacks her things, Sebastian leans over her.

“Are these all of the materials I’ll need for class?” He asks, one arm framing her figure as he gestures to her brush and kibble.

“I believe so, but mind I’m still relatively new as well,” she says. As she speaks, Sebastian isn’t looking at her. He’s slowly turning his head to lock eyes with Lawton.

“Are these things any different from when you took the class in third year?” MC asks, rummaging through her bag for her quill.

Sebastian is still wrapped around her. “Oh,” he says, looking directly at Lawton. “I think this time around will be much different.”

Sebastian is sure that if Lawton were to retract into his shirt collar any further, he would become a turtle.

“Oh, but wait!” MC gasps, looking up. “If you’re my partner, there will be an uneven amount of students. I don’t want Poppy to be alone again.”

“Actually, there will not be an odd number of students,” says a new voice from behind them both.

Sebastian and MC spin around.

“Natty!” MC exclaims. “You’re in this class now, too?”

Natty clasps her hands together and smiles. “I am. I am happy that we can be here together.”

“Me too!”

Sebastian and Natty lock eyes. The small smirk on Natty’s face may have been lost to MC as her just being happy to be there, but it was a loud and clear signal to Sebastian.

“Actually, MC,” he says, “I think you probably couldn’t have a more knowledgeable partner than Poppy Sweeting for this class. I think you would be better off to stay with her.”

“Oh,” MC tilts her head, “will you and Natty partner then?”

“Actually, I think it would be best to differentiate, so that the new students are not together,” Natty says thoughtfully.

“Exactly!” Sebastian follows up loudly. “I can partner with Leightly. We are in the same house, after all.”

“And I will take Leightly’s previous partner,” says Natty.

Sebastian casts a wicked smile and waves with fake enthusiasm to Lawton— who has gone completely pale.

Poppy enters the pavilion and MC moves to excitedly explain how all of her friends are now in the same class together. Sebastian takes the opportunity to stride over to his new partner.

Lawton flinches as Sebastian throws his arm over the boy’s shoulder.

“This is going to be a fantastic semester, don’t you think, Leightly?”

[terrence-silver]

How would Terry (all eras) react to beloved wanting sex while heavily pregnant? (Like say 7-8 months)

Another post on Pregnant Sex here:

---

― Twig does it, but you have to understand he fusses the whole time. He's young. He's boyish. He has his many, many demons and they're all still fresh. He has an undeniable innocence to himself still too. He's raw. He feverishly inquires whether it hurts, whether you're comfortable, apologies countless times over nothing at all, he's all fingers and thumbs, asks time and time again whether you're absolutely sure of this even though you were the one who suggested it, adjusts the pillow under his beloved's head, soothes them, hugs them, is infinitely concerned throughout the whole act and he undoubtedly needs more comfort and aftercare than the actual pregnant partner involved, if that's at all possible; oh, but he wants to please --- tremendously, more than anything, practically vibrating at the thought of being so close to the two people who so wholly belong to him --- but there's always this shadow of a doubt hanging over him like a dark cloud that he'll do something wrong, and for the lack of a better word, mess up royally. Injure beloved. Injure their unborn kid. Something that'll be his fault the way it always is. Something he'll never be able to take back. You see, he sees only the worst of outcomes here and he's overthinking wildly, already envisioning hospital beds and beloved miscarrying their baby. PTSD kicking in, he undoubtedly cuts the sex short half way through it on his own accord with a million 'I'm sorry''s added to the mix while he cradles his own face in his hands. He really is sorry. But, he fears losing control and being responsible for what could happen if he makes a mistake and it overshadows an otherwise sweet moment and everything about it. Regardless of his genuine anguish though --- which really is genuine, by the way --- Twig is probably hard as hell throughout the entire outpouring of regret even as it happens.

― In the 80's on the other hand, Terry Silver's the one suggesting sex while beloved's heavily pregnant and you better believe it. It is his idea. His very own brainchild. His own vision coming to light. His agenda. He has his eyes on the prize the minute beloved's body starts changing, swelling up, becoming more rounded and even long before that --- in fact, man's probably fantasized and schemed about it since day one, placing his bets on a long con like a lecherous snake. He thinks few things are hotter, if anything at all, than pounding into someone already his so fully that their very physique are hormones are changing thanks to him. Due to him. All for him. Due to what he did to beloved --- and what he'll continue doing too. It is the ultimate act of control. Of possession. Something straight out of the animal kingdom. Claiming and re-claiming time and time again. And yes, it gets him irrationally horny. Downright feral. Because he did that. Him alone. And he'll do it again. And he'll do it while it's in the process of happening. Pre pregnancy. During it. And after it. Always. Thing is, he likes it. Takes relish in it. In the entirety of beloved's form, not just the sexual aspect of it. He likes the weight gain. Their ballooning. Their sensitivity. Limited movement. Their cravings. Appetites. Their scent. How they glow. How they waddle. How they ache. How they feel when he's inside of them. How their limbs are sore and heavy and all the ways he can personally stretch them, massage them and alleviate their pain and simultaneously enjoy it too in all it's fragility, devoted, meticulous sadist that he is. Fucking while pregnant is only just the beginning. The whole state of pregnancy is undoubtedly so alluring to Terry that in no time at all after giving birth, beloved finds themselves knocked up again in double quick time. Whoops.

― Undeniably, being old himself, Terry Silver at a more advanced age sees the indescribable allure of beloved quite literally glowing with life and fertility at this stage, contrasts and all. Swollen with his legacy. Swollen with health. Vigor. Being at the prime and peak of themselves. He doesn't just want to fuck them, he wants his hands all over them, lingering, languid, caressing the curved outline of their belly, taking them in, looking them up and down, admiring them, every part of them, unable to contain his smile, wishing and intending to burn all of this into his memory, relishing in every change, every fluctuation --- everything that occurred thanks to him. He wants to consume them whole. He does everything with his eyes long before he does it with his body, regret and desire intermingling while a million thoughts race through his mind how he yearns he had this much sooner. Years or even decades ago. As such, the act of having sex with beloved while pregnant is not only incredibly erotic, it is also somehow simultaneously very tragic to him, very jubilant, very triumphant and yet completely heart wrenching (and even anger inducing) because he might be inside of beloved, yes, but he might just simultaneously also be calculating whether he'd see his child grow up. Graduate. Say his name. Whether he'll actually have time to teach them all the things he wants to teach them and the idea of not having control over this --- well, it's infuriating. It makes him feral. Sexually frustrated. It makes him want beloved all the more. It makes him want to burry himself so deep inside of them until they're one, and nothing and nobody can separate them, causing him to enjoy and hyperfocus on every sensation like it could be his very last. Naturally, the way he fucks beloved due to it, oh, it's possibly the most intense, passionate sex of their life.

[cthulhusstepmom]

It's dark in the cellar, has been since they were tossed down here however many days ago. Hard to tell time without regular meals. Completely windowless, there's no place to spend his usual half hour basking under the sun. It had been a matter of hours before his coldblooded body had started to slow in the cool subterranean temperatures. He'd tried to keep it to himself, deal with it quietly, but there's no way to hide it from Gid, steadfast loyal Gid. Kremy had found his sluggish form gathered unceremoniously close to the living furnace that is his right hand man.

The heat may have stabilized his body temperature but it would do nothing to improve his mood(well maybe just a little bit it's hard to be too miserable when you're so nice and warm no matter the dire circumstances). Gideon took care of light well enough too, illuminating a circle around them with dancing warm firelight, though that was extinguished as soon as Kremy saw it start to waver and flicker, can't allow his partner in crime to burn himself out now can he? And so they sit in an almost peaceful silence, have done for who knows how long.

"Y'know it's not the worst bind we've gotten ourselves into. The gang will be along soon enough to bust down the door." Gid pauses in thought. "Probably not Twigsy. Or Frosty. Or Gricko unless he's a beasty. Probably down to Torbek to do the door busting come to think of it."

Kremy grunts noncommittally.

"Ah don't be like that, can't be worse than the time we had to climb out of the window of that inn."

"The snake oil heist on the western bank?"

"Nah the one with the innkeepers daughter, Felicity? Franny?"

He remembers that particular scrap well, if only because of the god awful wig.

"Felicia. How that veil covered my snout I will never rightly know."

Gideon snorts.

"Oh yeah. Sure would've been nice to know Gricko was an ordained minister before hand but it's not the first time we've been married."

Kremy hums. "Can't say it's the worst contract I've signed."

The warm body next to him rolls with deep, hearty laughter. The room goes silent for another spell before Kremy sighs.

"I dunno Gid, you ever get the feeling that we've taken it too far? Finally poked the bear that's gonna rip our throats out?"

"Nah man, I know you'll get us out of anything 'fore it gets too serious. Even if we end up knee deep in Fae tomfoolery. And I'll punch any bear that tries to bite us square in the body till it dies, no problemo." He pauses. "I trust you Kremy Lecroux."

That knocks the speech right off of his tongue.

Trust.

On a conceptual level he got that there was some form of reliance between the two of them, and sure some trust if you had to put a non-ironic label on it. He knows that Gideon cares for him, has stated it on many occasions in many different ways. And if you had to be so crass as to put it into words, of course he cares for Gid too, wouldn't have bothered keeping him around this long if he hadn't(lord knows the food bill would be enough to sway his opinion if he wasn't entirely too attached by now).

But trust?

Trusting Kremy Lecroux is a bad idea on any number of levels. He's a cheat by profession and a liar by lifestyle. Hell he's sold the souls of those around him in exchange for power more than once. There's nothing worth trusting in him, he's a coldblooded criminal and he's never gonna change, not for anybody. And here Gid is announcing it with his full chest. It's one of those things that's so endearing about him, he never holds back; Gideon Coal has never made a promise he doesn't fully mean. But since he's a man of contracts and business dealings he at least wants to give him a fair shot, a head start, a warning to keep that fiery heart close.

"You sure about that Gid? Those kinds of words have a power to em you know that."

"100% man, I'll follow you to the end of the world."

Kremy struggles to get air into his lungs, it takes a minute, two. When he finally gets enough to speak, it's frustrated and tinged with melancholy.

"Well I'll gladly let you do just that, if we ever get out of this fucking place."

"Hey." Kremy offers no response. "C'mon man don't be that way, the crew are all out there figuring their way in as we speak, fact I can smell the Torbek already."

He says nothing.

"I know what'll cheer you up."

A large, warm hand cups the bottom of his snout, gently directing his face up and to the side. Before he can think to protest, his eyes are drawn to the sudden lick of flame dancing on the tip of Gideon's finger. Not unlike when he lights cigarettes for him, except now he's pressing the pad of the digit to a small twig from the rocky floor until it smolders dully. Blowing on it, Gideon brings the small stick towards his face. It's warm but not uncomfortably so (he'd never had a doubt in his mind that Gid would hurt him). Carefully, precisely, with hands steady from working on the delicate innards of machines he can't begin to comprehend, Gideon draws the ashen tip of the stick across his upper lip in two swooping lines.

"There you already look more like yourself!" He proclaims proudly.

And god if he can't help the smile that breaks across his face.

"You're a crazy son of a bitch Gideon Coal, you know that?"

"Been told once or twice." he chuckles.

[superums]

rock-star! hobie x super-star! reader headcannons

ooc!hobie (maybe). gn!reader. mentions of girlfriend one time but that it. black coded!reader but its not heavy or anything. reader was supposed to be a rapper but i like the idea of a super star instead. i wanted to make the reader like sexyy red that didn't happen. theres a suggestive part. idk how to write his accent

color coded text: hobie , you

you guys are more alike than you think. touring, getting into fights, sometimes your music topics intersect beating people down, stealing peoples partners, rebelling against the system in some way, shape or form.

but where you're different is how you market yourselfs. hobies band is more about being loud about the hate for conforming and the system. they're vocal about political issues, they almost get banned from tv multiple times for broadcasting ideas that the man doesn't like.

you on the other hand, are seen as the super star of your generation. you rap, sing dance—you're the real deal. your music is very diverse depending on what you want to go for; you could sing the most heart wrenching songs about one sided love and the next track you could be rapping about getting white girl wasted and getting ████ed in the ████ in the car before an award show (which may or may not have happened).

anyways! you two keep your relationship as private as you can. you don't really talk about each other in interviews, you have a couple songs about each other but it's not really a common thing.

theres a lot of paparazzi pics of you two together though. theres pics of you and hobie walking out of after parties together, hanging with his friends, coming back from the grocery store and many, many photos of you two hugging and kissing.

hobie has like this sixth sense that makes him always find the camera so sometimes theres pictures of him grabbing as much of your ass as he can while smirking at the camera man thats walking behind you (which you didn't know whats there btw)

and every single times he dose that theres always a second picture of you hitting the back of his head or grabbing his ear.

*click* *click* *click* "stop doing that!" your face was getting hotter from embarrassment as you turned the corner faster trying to get away from the camera man. hobie could only smirk as he caught up to you easily, putting his hand on your shoulders before pulling you closer.

bringing one of his hands to your waist as the other snaked from your shoulder to your chest. "c'mon luv, you know i can't resist..." his breath hitting your ear as he leaned in to smell your neck before being cut off by a hit to his chest. you could practically hear his smirk as he pushed your hips back into his.

your stomach started to naught as you felt it on your behind. you closed your eyes almost forgetting the situation. *click* *clock* *click* your eyes snapped open as your hear the camera man behind you.

"oh hush you just think you're funny." hobie couldn't even hold back his laugh as he watched you walk in front of him with your arms crossed. "well it is! n' don't act like you don't like it."

if you're shy & bashful he would love to embarrass you but not in a ddg/halle bailey way but in a "omgggg stop guys🙈" kind of way like why is he parading around in a 'i 🩷 my gf' shirt and making out with you on national television

hobie dose not think it's right to be controlling over his partners nor dose he believe that you should be subservient to him—now with that being said he feels sick to his stomach when you collaborate with certain artists.

you had a song about partying in the club and your male feature was talking about fucking on you he couldn't even bring himself to post the song on a ig story. he actually fell to his knees !!!

speaking of feeling sick! if you ever twerk on someone just for a performance or have to grind on someone during a dance he doesn't get super angry or whatever but in the inside he's like 'im abt to kms'. he's very dramatic!!

he hates when people try to put you in the role of just being his partner and nothing else—he will literally sit there and argue with someone if they ever try to sit there and say you're nothing but a pretty face.

he feels a certain way if you ever get uber rich. he knows thats most if not all artist want to live comfortably and he understands that you aren't the corrupt system that exploits others, hell you're getting exploited in some way.

BUT if you ever have a million dollars his would would feel a little VERY unsettled. he'd probably break up with you lol he wouldn't want to sound like a hater but he'd try to be like "heyyy how about we donate some money to a shelter or something🙈🫶🏿💗❓"

but if you're dating him he won't have to worry about that because you have to be at least a little political (and he'd have to agree with your views)

you might not be an anarchist, you don't even have to classify yourself with one political party but you have to at least be anti-capitalist, anti-establishment and pro-black.

speaking of politics he gets arrested all the time for protesting and you'll have to get used to that. like every few weeks you will have to pic him up from jail because he was arrested for conspiracy to riot or something on the lines of that.

IF you two ever collab you'll have to find a middle ground because he cannot sing (that is cannon!) and you should never try to get him too unless you want your engineer to be slaving away trying to get him to sound listenable.

he's lowkey your arm candy and he doesn't mind it at all. like if you get invited to the grammies or something he'll always come with you (his group will most likely never get nominated bc of the topics they like to talk about.) but he's never wearing a suit he just likes to dress like this:

in return you'll probably have to dress in a lot of black id you want to match or don't... he'll be like your statement piece for the night

if he's with you when you get your first award he'll literally pic you up and jump up and down with you for a few seconds before letting you go

if you normally win at award shows he just kisses you for a few seconds before letting go up to accept it

either way doesn't like to go up on stage with you hen you accept awards because he feels like he takes away from your moment but he dose walk you off and on stage. the only way he'll ho up on stage with you is if you're like crying really heavy then.

his band mates probably thought you were gonna be the hit it & quit it type because usually punks and non-punks don't last long but they were a little surprised when 1) you two lasted long and 2) you agreed with their views despite being industry.

sum sum sum idk how to end this

[lazerv4]

Thoughts on Total Forgiveness

Just my raw thoughts not a review or anything

Total Forgiveness starts with Ally Beardsley and Grant O’Brian pitching the show they are about to embark on to Sam Reich their at the time President of Original Content at CollegeHumor (now CEO of Dropout). The pitch is simple, student debt is a cripplying problem and they came up with the accordion method, what if instead of many years of suffering under their loans they could instead make the suffering happen in 4 months and pay their debt as they gamble on challenges between the two of them for money which the show would award weekly. Sam hesitates but greenlights the show much to the delight of Grant and Ally who get right to work on the first challenges which end up being Grant has to interview a lawyer specializing on student debt while covered in leeches and Ally has to interview an ex partner about what went wrong while they eat the spiciest food Grant can find. Afterwards we see the actual challenges go through as Grant does his assigned interview while bleeding profusely and Ally has what can only be derived as a cringe nightmare of an experience with their ex eating thai so spicy they almost throw up, then when they are both done we see them together, they both look like they’ve been through hell and that is just the first episode.

Episode 2 begins a little bit meaner with Ally getting an Oompa Loompa makeover and getting their driver’s license renovated while Grant wears a dog shock collar for barking the entire day which leads to him spending the day mute, this is where we start to see the main dynamics of the show develop with Ally embracing the horribleness and Grant trying his best to have fun with it but struggling a bit.

Episode 3 is a kinder episode to Grant with him simply going camping which apparently he hates, meanwhile Ally is buried alive for an entire day in a sort of sensory deprivation coffin while they are still in the office.

Episode 4 meanwhile has Grant performing a cringe inducing stand up show purposely sabotaged to be terrible with the caveat that if a joke doesn't land he has to say “it’s all love” which just makes it so much worse, on the flipside Ally has to publish an excerpt from their teenage diary, a move which severely backfires on Grant as it seems like a growing experience for Ally that improved them as a person all things considered, no suffering all money.

At this point not a single point has been lost and both Ally and Grant are giving their all to the challenges and still enjoying themselves to some extent since the point of the show is to compress suffering they do struggle but nothing too bad has happened yet, this is where that begins to change.

Episode 5 is one of the hardest things I’ve had to sit through. Grant gets the challenge of being locked in his studio apartment with 8 family members for a weekend which while I’m sure it was a nightmare, it doesn’t translate to tv. All’s challenge this week was to sing the United States national anthem at a minor league baseball game and to make it way worse, they apparently don’t even know the lyrics so they completely fucked it up and even have a random laugh in the middle of it, it’s the sort of horrible second hand embarrassment that is legitimately hard to endure and I have seen some people say this and another upcoming Ally challenge are borderline unwatchable because it’s just too cringe, but if you can get through it the series has more for you.

Episode 6 is the phobia episode where Grant must face needles and Ally must face snakes, for Grant he just has to inject himself so B12 with the alleged most painful needle which he does albeit it leads to one of my favorite gags when he says “I’ll be fine in 5 minutes” after he pulls the needle out only for the show to cut to him having a full panic attack with an oxygen mask. Grant won his challenge and valiantly faced his fear but as for Ally, well things would go different for them. Ally’s challenge involved that some night, any night at all, Grant would come in with a live snake and Ally would have to sleep with it on their bed. While Ally had been a very ambitious and fun loving contestant, this broke something and they just completely refused to engage with the snake and complete the challenge leading to the first loss and the domino effect which would shape the series into what it became.

Episode 7 is where challenges start to get unreasonable, with almost 4000 dollars on the line this contest had to get difficult so both Ally and Grant came up with this, Grant wanted Ally to spend their whole week piss drunk which at first Ally enjoyed and it annoyed everyone else but quickly it started getting to them and by the end of the week you can see their health suffer because of it and the remnants of a broken person just trying to finish the last day to claim the win, while Grant broke Ally’s body their mind seems unbreakable. As for Grant, Ally came up with a really strange and complicated challenge, basically Grant had to get an erection with no stimulation while being timed which ended in a really bizarre contraption so this could be shown without well showing Grant’s genitals. This challenge has been often called unreasonable and impossible by many people and to an extent it is but Grant still accepted it and attempted it as hard as he could, an attempt that proved unsuccessful leading to his first loss of the show.

As of now Grant has earned $10750 while Ally has $13250, as the gap starts to widen so do the challenges as the series starts to lead to it’s climax.

Episode 8 is the real turning point of the series with Ally getting the other famously cringe and unwatchable challenge in having to become a herbalife shill to her new roommates and do unreasonable actions Grant assigns via an earpiece to try and make them quit but their will somehow remained strong which showed how much fun Ally was having with this whole show as the chaotic person they are, meanwhile Grant was having a rough time. Ally’s challenge to Grant was to sell all his earthly possessions at a flea market and try to earn a thousand dollars which a some points seems maybe doable but very quickly while Grant still doesn’t realize it, it’s very clear to the viewer and to the crew that Grant won’t be able to accomplish this. He leaves this challenge defeated and returns to his empty apartment with now nothing to his name except around $600, not only did he lose the challenge but he also lost everything he had, this is where we first start to see how this show has damaged Grant and Ally’s friendship and also emotionally damaged Grant who seems barely still holding it together by the end of the episode which leads you wonder, how can this escalate further?

Episode 9 got mean, Grant challenged Ally to get a neck tattoo with the name of their new girlfriend who they've been dating for 2 months while Ally challenged Grant to shit in public as performance art (again his genitals are covered but chest up everyone can see him). The challenges this week feel very mean spirited and with Ally now being up $24250 to Grant’s $10750 things are heating up and they are starting to feel more like bitter rivals than loving friends doing a dumb show together. Going with Ally first while Sam seems hesitant to approve this challenge Ally wants to do it and still seems have fun with it as a big dumb joke even if it’s their first tattoo it’s just a gag to them and they don’t mind the embarrassment with them even bringing said gf to the parlor so they can watch the tattoo be made. Meanwhile Grant struggles, even before the exhibition opens we can already see he is stressed and uncomfortable, he doesn’t seem like he wants to do it but the money is too life changing to not go through with it so he presses on, he is notified that when he is done he can pull a string that will drop confetti to signify he has completed the challenge and so he gets on the toilet in front of a lot of people. The atmosphere is not tense, it’s closer to something sad and depressing, something akin to the feeling of exploiting someone and when Grant pulls the string and the confetti falls, you can’t help but feel awful, a big thing through this episode has been Siobhan (another dropout cast member) giving some advice to Grant and Ally separately about how to mend what they are breaking and she stays as everyone leaves to speak with Ally as Grant angrily prepares to go home. As Ally approaches to tell Grant everyone was an extra, the mood is again tense, he just replies he is “done for the day” and that it was “funny” as he just walks away checking with the crew really quick to see if he can leave and then just exiting the building silently. This episode seemed to be the tipping point for Grant and what would have ended their friendship with Ally as even with this the gap just widened and made everything seem worse and worse while making each other more antagonistic towards the other that while Ally had been taking as dumb fun, they had now realized was hurting Grant and something had to be done if this friendship was gonna survive this show, let alone a 10th episode.

Episode 10 is just titled “Finale” with no allusion to the challenges like all the previous episodes so you go on not exactly knowing what to expect. It begins with other dropout cast members talking about the strain this show has had on Ally and Grant before going into the challenge pitching part of the show where Ally is alone with the production crew struggling to even come up with something until they says they have a pitch and the show cuts to Grant alone with the crew as well, they try to check on Grant to see if he is ok and he clarifies he doesn’t blame anyone and he is not the victim of the show but he is struggling. He is not sure what to pitch except something horrible and life changing so he is gonna go through Ally’s challenge first, cut to Jess and Katie (dropout cast members) in Santa Monica, they have a letter for Grant that Ally wrote the challenge is just to enjoy the day at the beach with his friends while wearing a dumb outfit and to decompress the show a bit to see if maybe he has it in him to forgive them. The show cuts to a montage of Grant having fun for his $10k prize just hanging in the pier and doing dumb stuff with Jess and Katie.The mood is so different, so fun and afterwards Grant talks a bit about what the show has done to their friendship and how he is regretful Ally couldn’t be there with them before announcing he now knows what his challenge is and shot fades. We start the scene in a bar called “State Social House” that same night as Grant and Ally meet in the empty bar and Grant reveals the challenge is to have 3 mezcals with him, while they begin drinking they also talk about their sentiments regarding what the money has done to their friendship, the reminique about what they've been through and what living with debt has done to them, how they hope to remain friends after this and even hopefully for the rest of their lives as they approach the third drink to which Ally comments about prompting Grant (a seasoned bartender) to want to smell and check it’s profile, this leads Ally to telling Grant to just drink it and take the $10k and to make the gap smaller to which Grant replies that he can’t accept that, at this point Ally has made their choice so they drop the mezcal on the floor on the most shocking moment on the entire show. What is next is just pure friendship and love for the people around you. Grant starts crying and they hug in the sweetest moment in the show, this is the moment that turned around the show according to Sam in a “episode 11” interview. The show then cuts to Grant paying one of his loans and he becomes able to finally be able to start paying his loans instead of just interest, Ally also talks about their loan consolidation as the show begins to wrap and we get the final scene with is a small dinner they set up and the talk about everything they learned about loans and how they are designed to make people’s life worse before the show ends with a toast to it’s history and a tally of the remaining debt before finally saying goodbye one last time.

Total Forgiveness did eventually get a reunion episode 11 sort of podcast thing but that is mainly talking behind the scenes about how of the rails the show went and how it was almost cancelled before the final episode essentially redeemed the whole thing from feeling like like a dystopian torture system as well as how Ally and Grant expected Jackass but got something much deeper, something about the effects of debt on people, something like most of dropout special. Total Forgiveness may not be for everyone, it can be a hard show to sit through, but for those able to go through with it the way it develops as an allegory for its own themes is fantastic and beautiful and in some ways the only example of prestige reality tv I can think of. It is truly one of a kind and a beautiful little show that can’t and shouldn’t be replicated, it should stand as a monolith and be cherished for all it accomplished in showing the struggles of debt. Ally and Grant did something incredible that would only be possible at a platform like dropout and with how the show turned out and how it stands along with other titans at dropout they should be proud.

[cibeeorsomeshit]

All My Kisses (ao3)

Summary:

Stolas and Blitzø goes to a Goetia party and proceed to use their mouth way too much

Notes:

This is inspired by the #fullmooncountdownkiss by @zero_lawliet

------

Stolas zoned out at the fifth gossip in the last two hours. Apparently, Duke Eli got caught red-handed trying to steal a vase at a party last week. Separ’s servant asked for a raise and, satan-forbid, sick leave, when has Hell become overrun with lazy snowflakes? And oh, have you heard about Sytry’s, ahem (at this they all leaned in to listen closely as the speaker spoke in what Solas assumed meant to be sotto voce but ended up being more so of a falsetto) unfortunate botched haircut? 

Stolas put his hands to his mouth, all four eyes widening in dramatic worry, “Oh, I do hope he survives that, sounds terminal.” Then turned away when they glared at him. Heaven-wept, he was only minding his business and these royals decided to converge and forcibly include him in their conversation, now he had to find somewhere else where no one would bother him. A Herculean task at a Goetia party, that was for certain. 

Stolas got to a shaded area of the garden, though it didn’t take long for him to be discovered. Something snaked up his thigh and waist, so familiar by this point Stolas wasn’t even startled. He tried to hide his small smile by taking a sip of his lemonade. The tail snuck into his gauzy summer robe briefly before ducking out, sending a shiver down Stolas’ spin despite the heat.

“Having fun?” Blitzø teased. He was holding a plate of spaghetti and somehow none of it made it onto his linen white shirt. He must have been making extra effort today for Stolas’ sake. 

“Now I am.” Stolas bent down to rest a palm on Blitzø’s face and bumped his beak to his cheek lightly. How nice was it for Blitzø to remind him what a handsome partner Stolas had. The breezy shirt and fitted slacks might have been for the theme of the party, though Blitzø managed to look like the clothes were designed for him in mind. The top button was undone. It wasn’t when they left the house, now Stolas’ eyes were fused to the little triangle that showed off the toned pecs underneath. 

“Eyes up, we’re at your fancy pants gathering of prudes.” Blitzø tilted Stolas’ face up with a finger under his chin, then his finger continued upward and gently flicked back Stolas’ sun hat, exposing his forehead and planting a quick kiss there. 

Stolas hooted softly, delighted. His mouth tingled with the urge to return the gesture, it was almost unbearable to stop himself, but he knew they wouldn’t have been able to stop at one kiss.

“I just need to survive another hour then we can go,” Stolas sighed. “If I had to hear another gossip about someone’s deformed toe I might actually abdicate.”

“Oh, you mean that ugly Prince Bar—“ Stolas clamped his palm down on Blitzø’ mouth to stop him as a group of guests walked past them. 

“Not so loud!”

“What? As if everyone wasn’t just sharing pictures of it.” Blitzø’s voice came muffled from underneath Stolas’ palm. 

“Unbelievable.” Stolas removed his hand and said wryly, “You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

Blitzø shrugged and shoved a forkful of pasta in his mouth. “Good blackmail materials.” 

Stolas snorted. “Of course.” He looked out to the garden of royals, many of them ignoring Stolas and Blitzø, some of them attempted to pretend the last few years never happened and tried to get back into Stolas’ good grace by saying how adorable they found Blitzø and Stolas to be. “Funny how not long ago we were the main subject of gossip.”

“We still are, babe. Now because they’re jealous of us.” Blitzø looked up at Stolas, eyes bright and adoring with sauce on the corner of his lips. “Did I tell you how hot you look today?”

Stolas flushed. Good grief, he never would get old of being praised by this man, was he? “Many times already.”

“Not enough times because fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.” Blitzø looked him up and down shamelessly. “Good thing my pants are loose.”

Stolas choked on his laughter. “Darling!”

“Or else it would look like this.” Blitzø gestured toward his plate. Somehow he had managed to make two meatballs and a long sausage the subject of his artistic expression and Stolas had to use all his willpower to not burst out laughing right there. 

“You're going to make me laugh,” Stolas pleaded, tugging the rim of his hat down to hide his wobbling mouth.

“Duh, that’s kinda my thing.” Blitzø shoved a whole meatball in his mouth and Stolas finally let himself break, not because the act of meatball-shoving was particularly funny but because he was suddenly struck with how stupidly happy he was. 

Blitzø grinned in that soppy way whenever he made Stolas laugh. There was more sauce on his face now. Stolas reached out to wipe it off with his fingertips. When he tried to move his hand Blitzø caught it, turned his face in and planted a warm kiss in the middle of his palm, and another, pecks and pecks until Stolas was again back to a blushing, fluffy mess of feathers.

“You said it was okay to kiss hands at these places,” Blitzø glanced up through his eyelashes, still pressed against Stolas’ palm, hot lips dragging across those increasingly sensitive flesh with each word.

“You know I meant the back…” Stolas said weakly.

“Hmm.” Blitzø nuzzled into his palm, seeming content to stay there. “I can stop?”

Stolas knew they were being looked at. Probably becoming the subject of gossip again. Good, they were so much more interesting than vase-stealing, salary-denying, ugly-hair royals anyway. 

“No.” Stolas leaned down to whisper like they were planning a prank, allowing a carnal grin spread across his face. “Jealousy is such a wonderful aphrodisiac, don’t you agree?”

He received a gentle nip to his hand. Stolas scooped Blitzø up and nipped the imp’s neck in retaliation, and finally, finally their lips met, pressing until it felt like the summer heat was going to fuse them together. Not that either of them would mind.