#I am *rabid* when it comes to them

[chr0n1c-ag0ny]

More Sigzai HC's - [nsfw below]

•°•°•°•

Dazai likes to suck on Sigma's titties. a lot. It starts as just kissing his breasts and around his chest, and he slowly gets more intense, until he's sucking on them.

He's shameless about it too.

it tends to be after they have sex, like, as they're coming down from it, as they're cuddling, but before aftercare.

Dazai's laying his head on Sigma's chest, getting the last of his worshipping kisses in (cause he's down horrendous) and slowly starts gravitating to their breasts.

by the time they've fully settled into cuddling, Dazai's latched on, breaking off only now and then to switch breasts or to kiss Sigma some more. He's listening to the thrum of Sigma's heart as he does so, as his ear pressed up to Sigma's chest. Sigma has a hand in Dazai's hair, gently scratching at his scalp. Somtimes they hum to him, or praise him and tell him how good he is. Other times its just comfortable silence.

He finds it all very soothing.

Sometimes they don't even have sex, sometimes they're just cuddling and Dazai gets a little handsy, a little (lot)... needy... and Sigma just knows to pull off his top and let Dazai go to town, doesn't even get a chance to take their bralette off cause Dazai's hand are already pulling it down himself and getting himself situated (he likes when its left on, he plays with the fabric). Sigma just waits for him to settle and pets at his hair and tells him he's being a good boy.

Sigma always has love bites on their chest at this point.

[spookitordukeit]

In your fic tbasawas was there anything specific that inspired you to do your specific stories and or ships?

Yes and no—

For the story itself:

Originally, I only had concepts for Aeiisy, a dark fic with a skeleton reader who is constantly having a Bad Time. But, as with most of my ideas, it got split into two different paths. (This is how I end up with most of my fic ideas btw) You might see a few similarities, or even direct reflections between a few of my works, and that’s because they are all directly or indirectly formed from a few of the same ideas, split into separate paths.

Like an au I guess???

Tbasawas was made as a direct counter to Aeiisy, so I wouldn’t pass away from angst and could have something sweet a fluffy to write whenever I got burnt out. (Ignoring the amount of angst that ended up in Tbasawas anyway… and the fluff that got put into Aeiisy…. Don’t look at me!!)

So Tbasawas was inspired by Aeiisy, and Aeiisy was inspired by the need for a skele reader, Monster Frisk, and an apocalypse fic. Not sure how any of that connects, but that’s how it went down.

Tbasawas is a soft apocalypse, if that’s even a thing. Their changes aren’t gory and the world isn’t riddled with war and violence. Just people treated like lost puppies in a cozy adoption center waiting for their ‘forever home’. For the most part.

I take a lot of inspiration directly from animal adoption processes. The whole shebang. Paperwork, wait time, vetting, inspections, background checks, introductions, acclimation— Hell, even the Assigned Nurse can be compared to a Foster. The Mimic Monitors are essentially juiced up microchips.

I’m pretty sure I even used a template for the adoption of a dog from a serious breeder for the letter that Abbee gives Nerma to explain to process. And the email Edge receives  in chapter one.

There’s a lot of themes in Tbasawas going on. Another one is the grieving process, as hinted at in the title of the first chapter. Arc one: Shock.

I’m using this version of the grieving process in particular:

I’m not sure how strictly I’ll follow it, but it’s definitely there in the background, at the very least.

As for inspiration for the relationships:

It’s all kinda based around these themes and how I think the characters would be changed by them.

I’ve changed these characters a lot. Maybe not much physically for most,(that you can see.. wink wonk) but I’ve taken a lot of liberty with their stories and backgrounds. And in the tags for Tbasawas, this universe is listed under post neutral route… not pacifist. Do with that information what you will.

Based on these changes, I think about how they might act. What makes the most sense. What they feel, what kind of person would they feel most comfortable around and what kind would they hate? Do they have insecurities? Are there any fears that they might be judged? Would that stop them from getting close to specific skeletons in the pack? *cough* Sparrow *cough*

Are they jealous or possessive? Holding on to the one good thing that’s happened to them and waiting for the other show to drop?? Even if it hinders the others ability to seek out relationships with others of the pack??? *cough* Red *cough*

I kinda just zone out and smash dolls together in my mind until I get something I like. Not all that cool of a process, but it’s what works for me.

Speaking of! Let’s use Red and Sparrow as an example!!!

*grabs my mental dolls of Red and Sparrow in my hands and smacks them together*

*loud incorrect buzzer sound*

Yep. Knew that would happen. See— Red is chill around the pack, but there’s not a lot of… feelings??? He has this disconnect inside him, whether from his LV, his trauma, or if that’s simply just how he handles his emotions, I’m not sure.

There’s this wall that he has up. He cares for the pack, and for his brother, of course he does! He’d kill for them. That was never in question. He’s just… distant. The only one who can really, really get close is Comet. And that’s mainly because they’re so similar it hurts. They’re in the same, sinking boat. Drifting out in the middle of the ocean as they keep hammering in nails in hopes they won’t drown.

Red is heavily complex, and no one knows just how to solve him and tell him to stop making so many damn holes in his boat before it’s unrepairable.

He’s smoke and mirrors with knives that will cut you if you take a wrong step.

Sparrow, is also withdrawn. But for very different reasons.

He’s not shy, per say— but he’s very conscious how he looks and how he’s perceived. He knows that he’s not as handsome as he once was (lies), he knows that he looks frightening, even to other Monsters.

His self esteem is very low, it’s been getting better thanks to his pack, but it’s still not great. He hides a lot of things about himself, whether out of shame or for the perceived benefit of the other person is a 50/50 at any given moment.

His status as a sigma doesn’t help. There are already enough stigmas about people like him and Star, if Sparrow can’t do what’s expected of him— if he falls into stereotypes—

…he doesn’t like to think about it.

He’s not as able bodied anymore, and his senses are both dulled and heightened to uncomfortable degrees. He needs to be able to trust the people around him. He needs to know that they won’t think lower of him for his weakness. He needs to know that he can depend on them and they won’t just up and leave.

Red has given no indication that he is capable of providing any of those assurances. He has in fact proven quite the opposite.

At this point in time, Red and Sparrow could never be in a relationship. Sparrow would likely end up cut on Red’s knives and shattered glass, and Red would keep hammering more fucking nails into his boat. Unaware that it’s the very thing that keeps brining in more water.

Augh. So long story short: insanity.

The idea for the story popped in my head and then I stared at characters until the imploded in my brain like a super nova and then they kept forming fun new galaxies for me to explore.

I guess it’s my characters that give me inspiration. I just wanna slap my dolls together and see wtf happens, I have no idea where I’m going and I’m equally as surprised as you are at every chapter🗿🗿🗿

I just wanna see Edge be soft and have his little found family, and to feel like he’s allowed to exist in the world despite his sins.

I wanna see Grim be an absolute menace and Get Bitches, because he loves his idiots and just wants to live life at his laziest.

I wanna see Bear put a ring on as many hoes as he likes and get to be happy and smug and purr as he crushes them (lovingly) in his nest.

I wanna see Stretch be soft and fuss about his mates and then punish them for their stupidity with various pranks.

I wanna see Star huff and lovingly bully his mates into being kind to them selves, forcing them to take it easy or face the wrath of Self Care days.

I wanna see Comet get yoinked out of his tiny shell and actually mean it when he smiles his little bastard smiles, and to be able to reach out and form other relationships within the pack.

I wanna see Black get his ass Wooed and his icy rain bloom into spring showers because he feels loved and able to be soft and love in turn.

I wanna see Blue live his life to the fullest and prioritize his own feelings sometimes and remember that it’s okay to want things.

I wanna see Sparrow have each and every one of his boo boos kissed and told that he’s handsome and I want him to accept it and be confident.

And I wanna see Red get a happy ending. I want to see his sharp edges, both the ones facing inside and out, to get smoothed out. I wanna see this bastard get soft and mushy. I’m gonna turn his ass into a grumpy marshmallow just you wait.

And of course, I want to see Nerma be the spark that gets this thing moving.

I’m just a simp…. That is all 😔

[gojoest]

handjobs on the brain . . .

[peglarpapers]

many balanced and nuanced takes occurring in the 'adults reading children's literature' discourse arena however i am unable to contribute to any of them since we have collectively stumbled onto the one very specific discussion that makes me so angry i lose the ability to think

[inkykeiji]

good morning i am absolutely in love with him and in love with the little tufts of hair curling up oh-so-sweetly at the base of his skull <3

i am twirling the strands around my cute lil fingers and then tugging juuust enough to have him growling slightly—nothing more than a soft lil rumble vibrating behind his ribs—and his features faintly scrunching in a barely there wince, lips spreading into a smirk a mere moment later as he chastises me for being such a little brat <333

[evanhereonearth]

Solas, outnumbered seven to one, overpowered by a lot more than that, betrayed by his best friend Mythal who bound him to her service and coerced him into leaving the Fade and coerced him into making a weapon that would make an entire people tranquil to stop the war she started AND ignored him when he said it would create *checks notes* a blight and made him do it anyway. Solas, facing seven blighted wannabe gods who turned on his best abusive friend Mythal when she finally stood up to them after CENTURIES of him begging her to do just that and starting a rebellion to free all their multitudes of slaves: *creates the veil, imprisons the blight and the Evanuris, and preserves all life in Thedas* World: FUCK THE DREAD WOLF, GOD OF TREACHERY AND LIES *worships the Evanuris and their dragon thralls*

Solas: zzzzzzzzzz (knocked out cold from saving the world for LITERALLY SEVERAL MILLENNIA MORE)

Tevinter: *razes what's left of Elvhenan, steals all their magic, enslaves the elven people for entire length of Solas's world-saving-induced coma*

Also Tevinter: *breaks into the fucking black city and brings out the blight*

Also also Tevinter: *uses so much blood magic that the veil ends up in tatters*

The Blight: >:)

World: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck *throws everything they can at the blight, including--*checks notes again*--the blight

Orlais: you know what sucks? elves. let's kill them all

Ferelden: good shout, mes amis

Orlais: you know what also sucks? mages. put them in prisons.

Ferelden: you're full of good ideas when you're not invading us

Free Marches: MAGE PRISON, YOU SAY?

Orlais: add templars who can decide to murder them or make them tranquil on a whim at any moment

Ferelden and Free Marches: *frantically taking notes*

Rivain and Nevarra: we're just going to be...over here...

Blights 1-5: i've got a great idea i've got a great idea

Blights 1-5 after a while: my great idea didn't work :(

Archdemons 1-5: ....... :(

Evanuris 1-5: ......... :(

Solas, waking up in 9:40ish Dragon: what the...WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCKING FUCK. they can just KILL MAGE CHILDREN? AND PURGE ALIENAGES? AND ALMOST EVERY ELF IN TEVINTER IS A SLAVE? *absolutely rabid, seeks out the Dalish, as remnants of his people*

The Dalish, at Solas: *ARROWS*

Solas: ......fuck this shit, fuck all of this shit, fuck these tyrants in particular, fuck this fucking...UGH

The veil, after all this: (o.O:0oO.)

The remaining blighted Evanuris and the 99% of blight that did not escape: :)

Solas: well, that is a problem, going to need to address that ASAP, but turns out millennia of coma doesn't leave a spirit spry

Corypheus, busting out of warden jail: I AM FREE

Solas: hm, could kill that guy letting him unlock my orb, since he broke into my blight prison in the first place and defo deserves dying

Corypheus: veil needs a certain je ne sais quoi, a...bigger hole. i will make one.

Wardens: yes, good plan, blighted magister man. we are in control of the blight inside us and also heroes *in death, sacrifice = divine justinia's ritual sacrifice under thrall*

The veil:

O

Corypheus: >:( but like...not dead

Solas: well, i did not see that coming

Lavellan: *in chains, threatened with execution*

humans: KNIFE EAR >:(

Lavellan: *hole in the sky, hole in her memories, hole in her fucking hand* fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, wait, this hole in my hand helps close holes in the SKY

Solas: *.* It seems you hold the key to our salvation

Lavellan: i'm sorry what

humans: HERALD OF ANDRASTE!!!!!!!! *falls to knees*

Lavellan: I'M SORRY WHAT

Chantry: *choking in the corner*

Cassandra: time for you to decide the fate of the world

Lavellan: I'M. SORRY. WHAT???????? you know what? fine. *stops alexius from blood magicking his way through redcliffe and time itself, gets punted into a hellscape of nightmares and makes it back with the help of a rebel tevinter mage* the mages i rescued from becoming probable slaves to tevinter are our allies and dorian is my new best friend for being the only reason i made it back alive and the whole world didn't die *dabs*

Cassandra: >:(

Mother Giselle: >:(

Lavellan: ffs

Corypheus: *dragon temper tantrum*

Lavellan: *somehow escapes both dragon and Corypheus, trudges through blizzard, collapses*

Mother Giselle: *.* I FEEL A SONG COMING ON

Literally everyone but Solas: *falls to their knees*

Solas: a word?

Lavellan: OH THANK HEAVENS

Solas: these people are wack and aren't going to like that Corypheus is using elven magic *cough*, they're a hairsbreadth from executing us at all moments lol, btw here's a castle, you know, for you cos i highkey see myself in you and god i'm so fucking lonely

Lavellan: me too but wait, what the fuck is happening. you know what? fuck it. solas, what if we kissed,,, in the fade

Solas: what IF we kissed,,, in the fade *fade tongue*

Solas: ...you continue to surprise me. you show a wisdom i have not seen...since my deepest journeys into the fade!

Lavellan: don't you dare walk away from me now

Solas: okay vhenan i stay

Vivienne: this is a DEMON and NOT A PET

Lavellan: *blinks* right, no, this spirit kid who is the literal only reason we escaped Haven alive is my son now. if he hadn't read roderick's mind we'd all be avalanched or blighted dragoned, so SUCK IT UP

Vivienne: >:(

Cassandra: >:(

Sera: >:(

Bull: >:(

Varric: >:(

Solas: :D

Wardens: btw we're doing blood magic and raising an army of demons. not really our fault but also not NOT our fault? idk, blight in the blood, morally grey area. get it? grey...war--never mind, we'll be at adamant xoxo

Cullen: lotsa soldiers gonna die

Lavellan: fuck, is there another choice?

Advisors: ...no

Cory's dragon: *burninating the adamant, burninating the wardens, burninating all the people and this crumbling ROCKY BRIIIIIIDGE! CRUMBLING ROCKY BRIDGEEEEE*

Lavellan, flying through the air hundreds of feet towards the ground: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck *opens a rift into the fade*

Everyone but Solas: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK WE'RE IN THE FADE

Solas: we're in the FADE!!!!!

Lavellan, after escaping the nightmare's lair: glad half the team is pissed at me, what's next, an imperial ball? how hard can that be?

Orlesians: they invited an ELF SAVAGE >:(

Lavellan: you know what, fuck this and fuck Celene for genociding the entire Halamshiral alienage and fuck you, Gaspard, you can be Briala's little French Orlesian bulldog

Half the Inquisition: *shocked pikachu*

Morrigan: allow me to shemsplain all of elven history to everyone, including Solas, yourself, and all the ancient elves in this temple

Lavellan: you know what? okay. *rubs at Mythal's vallaslin, makes eyes real big* who is this "Mythal"

Solas: *choking in the corner*

Cassandra, muttering: i do not want to do a ritual to a false god

Morrigan: lemme have the well, lemme have it, i deserve it more than you

Lavellan: ...abso-fucking-lutely not *drinks from the well out of pure spite*

Solas: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, VHENAN

Lavellan: idk vhenan, this world sucks and i wanna make it better and i love you

Solas: ...you are everything and you inspire me, hurry, i need to tell you i'm the dread wolf but am going to break up with you and remove your slave markings instead and btw they're basically a drawing of me in my true form and honestly, this whole thing is real fucked up and you're the only real person in my entire life who sees me

Lavellan: wait what

Solas: i'm bad and don't deserve you and had to harden my heart to save the world before and everyone hated me for it so i'm projecting when i say you must harden your heart to a cutting edge to kill Corypheus, I'll explain after we kill him

Lavellan: ...oh yeah guess we should do that but I gotta go meet Mythal first

Solas: wait what

Mythal: *is Morrigan's mum, is only mostly dead, also 100% cool with overriding her servants' will entirely for shits and giggles, 0/10 do not trust* i'll help you if you fight this dragon lol

Morrigan: *choking in the corner*

Corypheus: *has a mahoosive temper tantrum when Mythal's pet dragon kills his pet dragon, dies*

Solas: ;-; ilu, inky, what we had was real but i'm afraid to do to you what Mythal did to me. I MUST AWAY

Lavellan: ....

World: HERALD OF ANDRASTE!!!!!!!!!!!!*

*some restrictions may apply, like in a couple years we're going to forget everything you did and be real mad at you

Solas, somewhere: been there, vhenan

World, two years later: :D we're here to hate you, right on schedule

Qunari: you are in need of the gentle path. therefore, we are coming to kill you all

Solas: like hell you will. but come to think of it, this is a good excuse to see vhenan again

Lavellan's arm: TIME TO DIE

Solas: defo another good excuse to see vhenan again. probs should study that arm anyway

Lavellan, after several Qunari too many: CAN ANYTHING IN THIS FUCKING WORLD STAY FIXED

Inquisition, including Divine Victoria: *shocked pikachu*

Lavellan: i'm going back through the fucking looking glass to talk to some ancient elven sentinels with Mythal's magic whisper well, they're the only fucking thing that makes sense here

Qunari: *destroying everything in sight but getting hounded by the dread wolf at every step*

Lavellan, whose arm is trying to kill her but is following Qunari through her own people's magic mirror world: ...i think i'm in love with the dread wolf

Companions: pfffffft

Cole: :D YES, YOU ARE AND HE LOVES YOU TOO

Lavellan: thank god i have you, cole, my spirit son

Solas, in a statuary garden of petrified Qunari: i suspect you have questions

Lavellan: honestly, fen'harel, not really

Solas: *shocked pikachu* well done

Lavellan: i'm real tired and you could have just trusted me back in Crestwood.

Solas: this world is broken, i must tear down the veil

Lavellan: yep, i'm one "knife ear" away from putting a knife in the next human's ear who says it tbh, i'd rather live in the fade with you and my spirit son, can i help you pls vhenan

Solas: ...no

Lavellan: wtf

Solas, internally panicking because he followed Mythal wherever she went and she dragged him to literal hell and trauma and now his one true love is offering to follow him while he probably makes things worse again: absolutely not, no, but i love you forever

Lavellan's arm: >:(

Solas: ...right, i gotta take that

Lavellan: wait what

Solas: i will never forget you *trundles through mirror with severed arm*

Lavellan: oh fuck my entire life, you know what, Ferelden and Orlais? Inquisition is no more, i'm going on sabbatical to Stone Bear Hold where at least people are not insane and Storvacker loves me, and then i'm going home to the castle vhenan gave me. don't call me. byeeee

ten years later

Varric: gonna go stop Solas, who invented the veil and is From Fade, from doing things i don't understand, wish me luck, inky

Lavellan: WAIT ONE GODDAMNED SECOND I'M COMING WITH YOU

Varric: no <3 i found a complete rando who will fuck everything up

Rook: hey, what if i drop a statue on this nuclear arsenal protecting the biggest biological weapon of mass destruction known to all of thedas? that'll help

Neve, a literal mage who should know even small rituals can blow up and kill you: probs not a good idea but Varric, a dwarf who knows nothing about magic or the veil or the Fade whatsoever says this ritual must be stopped At All Costs By Any Means Necessary so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Varric: Solas I will shoot you with Bianca

Solas: ffs stop *breaks Bianca*

Varric: can you promise me your way is better

Solas: i know way better than to make promises like that, have you seen this world???

Varric: GOTCHA, YOU LYING LIAR WHO LIES

Rook: TIIIIIIIIIIIIIMBERRRRRRR

Varric: defo going to attack the guy whose millennia of existence has been centred on this massive magical problem i do not even comprehend a little after waiting ten years to ask a single question about it when he'd already got going *tries to stab Solas*

Solas, feeling everything he's spent all of world history protecting the world from breaking out of jail: turns the dagger and stabs Varric instead

Elgar'nan: >:)

Ghilan'nain: >:)

Solas: oh for fucking FUCK'S SA--*exit, stage Fade Jail*

Blight: >:)

Rook: oops

Neve and Harding: omg this could not possibly be our fault at all, not even a little. it's Solas's fault, the lying liar who lies

Lavellan: i will not murder this stupid child, i will not murder this stupid child, i will not murder this stupid child

Morrigan: we have to help the stupid child

Lavellan: we have to help the stupid child

Morrigan and Lavellan: *look at each other*

Lavellan: when this is over, i stg--

Morrigan, who has millennia of memories of Mythal abusing Solas and decades of Flemythal abusing her: yeah no i will throw you a going away party and take care of Dorian for you and help you get your boyfriend back and no way will i fight him, this is actually ridiculous

Ferelden, Orlais, and the Free Marches, all of whom turned on Lavellan ten years ago: hELP help HELP there's BLIIIIIGHT

Lavellan to Leliana: you owe me a hundred gold

Leliana: *hands over a solid gold nug*

Ferelden: X_X

Orlais: X_X

Free Marches: X_X

Lavellan: *grits teeth* i better go meet with rook

Rook: andaran atish'an, honoured inquisitor

Lavellan: yo. sure would be nice to be meeting without our gods, you know, destroying absolutely everything i've spent a quarter of my life protecting and rebuilding after the last apocalypse but here we are i guess

Morrigan: *smirks at shade*

Northern Thedas: ROOK IS THE BEST

Southern Thedas: is rook tho

Ghilan'nain: muahahaha i have so many drago---nooo you killed my dragons and i am BLEEDING LIKE A MORTAL PIECE OF MORTAL SCUM

Elgar'nan: my dragon used to be bigger :(

Ghilan'nain: your dragon's fine

Elgar'nan: Ghilly, make it bigger again

Ghilan'nain: can't, too sad. blood. :(

Southern Thedas: *throwing nugs at blight* hELP

Lavellan, with half of Southern Thedas crammed into skyhold: thanks for the castle, vhenan, we'd all literally be dead without it, again

Morrigan: erm, Inky? seems everyone's telling Rook Solas is just a big monster lying liar who lies and blaming him for everything

Lavellan: that's what people do, blame Solas. had a bad day? blame Solas. Mythal wants to sever the titans' dreams? Blame Solas. Rashvine nettle sting? Blame Solas. Bring the veil 5/7 or so of the way down themselves after releasing the blight? Blame Solas. Rook let the gods out? Blame Solas

Morrigan: Inky.

Lavellan: you want me to go pour out my heart to the person who imprisoned vhenan and let out Ghilan'nain, Mother of Tentacles, and Elgar'nan "My Dragon is Bigger than Your Dragon" First and Worst of the Evanuris, don't you

Morrigan: yee

Lavellan: FINE but you better spill every ounce of tea you've got on the stupid child before i go because i need to at least make rook squirm a LITTLE

Morrigan: i thought you'd never ask

Elgar'nan: you won't make my dragon bigger??? fine i'll move the moon instead

Northern Thedas: i'm sorry what

Anyone at sea anywhere on the planet: I'M SORRY WHAT

Ghilan'nain: *throws a temper tantrum and dies*

Elgar'nan: >:(

Solas: fuck this shit, i'm getting out of Fade Jail

Rook: :(

Minrathous: fuck fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK

Solas: hello, people who enslaved my people for millennia, i am here to save the day i guess

Minrathous, slapping blight tentacles out of their faces: ...honestly thank you

Solas: wait what

Rook: I ESCAPE FADE JAIL SOLAS YOU BASTARD LYING LIAR WHO LIES

Lavellan: i will not murder the stupid child, i will not murder the stupid child, i will not murder the stupid child

Solas: you know what, fair play, here's the dagger, there's elgar'nan, ima bite his dragon, you go have a great time. have fun storming the blight tentacle

Venatori, poster children for the Leopards Who Eat People's Faces Party: nooo the leopards keep eating our faces

Minrathous: wow who could have possibly predicted that

Everyone who has ever met a Venatori: yes, yes, very sad

Elgar'nan, eating every face in the magesterium and effectively cleansing Tevinter of the worst of its monsters in one fell swoop: ah, rook, you can't kill me, i have the biggest dragon ever to dragon

Dread Wolf: honestly he's kinda not wrong, this dragon is a bastard and i am like a fifth of its size and getting p tired, ngl

Rook's Blighted Companion: welp gonnae put this trauma to use for the greater good. go go gadget blight tentacles, release the Dread Pupper

Elgar'nan: *shocked pikachu*

Dread Wolf: *chomp*

Elgar'nan: *throws a temper tantrum and dies*

Solas: oh ffs finally

Rook: not so fast

Solas: oh ffs here we fucking go

Rook: i don't actually want to fight you

Solas: wait, what

Rook: i think this is all my fault but everyone keeps telling me i'm the hero and that's fucked up. and your vhenan, she's nice to me, no one really else is, i'm just everybody's apocalypse therapist, and i even kinda like you tbh, my whole team basically does fun stuff without me and doesn't even invite me to book club and emmrich's the only one who asks me about my feelings instead of just asking me to do stuff for them, and anyway, i'm going to trust the inquisitor here because i'm honestly starved for connection and she thinks you're worth saving so can we talk i don't wanna fight

Solas: what

Lavellan, out of sight, reliving the litany of "i will not murder this stupid child": oh haha awkward

Solas: look,,, i've been bound to the service of an ancient elvhen god for millennia and everything i do, whether i know it or not, is for her, so i can't do what you want and this sucks

Lavellan: even if i'm here, walking the din'an shiral with you?

Solas: ...vhenan

Lavellan: ;_;

Solas: ;_; ...I cannot

Morrigan: yo dread wolf, my mum's a piece of work and i have all her memories and everything she did to you was fuuuuuuuuucked up, anyway, over to her, honestly not pissed you killed that part of her btw, she reeeeally fucked you up, but rook somehow managed to talk her out of her essence, so that's impressive

Solas: what

Mythal: yeah i kinda tore you out of your home and twisted you from your purpose and made you do murder and worse for me for millennia and said i wanted your wisdom and then never ever listened to you ever and just dragged you through every atrocity i created and perpetuated

Solas: it hurts and i guess you're going to kill me now so here's the dagger ;_;

Mythal: it's still mostly your fault but i was there too i guess, anyway, i release you from my service, which i could have done at any point in the past several millennia but instead I tortured you endlessly, lol god of retribution, that's me. k bye

Solas: what the fucking fuck

Lavellan: right there with you, like literally forever, our love is a miracle and the only thing i can even cope with

Solas: yeah honestly fuck this shit, i'm out, i will put myself in fade jail

Lavellan: you are not going by yourself i stg take me with you i wanna go home

Solas: ...home is a literal prison now

Lavellan: sealed away from all this shit? from getting blamed for everything we do no matter how much we sacrifice? if it's you and me there together, i don't care if it's a grey box full of darkspawn

Solas: there's no darkspa--

Lavellan: ffs i said i want to go, you don't have to sell me on it. you're the only person in this world who Gets It. we go on together, forever.

Solas: *.* my wife

Lavellan: *.* my wolf

Northern Thedas: and rook saved the world from the dread wolf, who was a lying liar who lies

Southern Thedas: *busy being dead and blighted*

Lavellan: yeah, fuck this shit, we're out

You can now download this shitpost in beautifully formatted PDF, courtesy of @amburuthings. Thank u for your service *salutes*

You all have had me howling with the tags on reblogs, thank you, I am absolutely dying in deadline hell and needed that

[astonmartinii]

doing business with family | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem hadjar reader

brother and boyfriend in the same sport? nothing has ever gone wrong when doing business with family... right?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, pepemarti and 307,377 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & isackhadjar

yourusername: max will officially become my second favourite f1 driver this weekend

view all comments

user1: watched isack’s f2 radio highlights in preparation for this weekend … yeah they’re defo siblings

user2: i know they’re parents had a HANDFULL with them growing up

user3: lmao just ask george in abu dhabi or lando in austria, y/n knows how to make her point KNOWN

isackhadjar: omg i beat max in something!

yourusername: come on bro have some faith in yourself - you can defo beat max in singapore at least

maxverstappen1: rude?

yourusername: you know i hate singapore in solidarity babe?

isackhadjar: and that’s crazy because she loves the glitter helmets

yourusername: i really do

user4: get you a couple that measures their love by glitter helmets?

user5: y/n is so real for that though, i’d fuck seb’s glitter helmets

yourusername: right well i don’t love them quite THAT much

charles_leclerc: slides £5 across the table isack please take max out, he won’t hate you

isackhadjar: no?

landonorris: WHY NOT

isackhadjar: i want to keep my job and actually score some points

yourusername: you people done harassing my brother?

maxverstappen1: do we have a problem?

isackhadjar: they’re being mean, they’re trying to PEER PRESSURE ME

charles_leclerc: i don’t think i was peer pressuring you

charles_leclerc: it’s bribery, god get it right

maxverstappen1: i think you should watch it

yourusername: say something like that to him again frenchie and your ass is grass

user6: omg romance ❤️‍🔥

redbullracing

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 823,081 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, yukitsunoda0511 & liamlawson30

redbullracing: red bull vs rb on pop culture trivia… max and isack were unstoppable - we might have to split them up next time

view all comments

user7: now i wonder where max and isack got their real housewives knowledge from …

user8: this has y/n hadjar written all over it

user9: if i remember rightly y/n was asked by some interviewer in the paddock who she’d like to see as a paddock guest and she said LISA RINNA?

user10: i knew i stanned the right queen

isackhadjar: not our fault that liam and yuki aren’t caught up with all the fresh news

maxverstappen1: we’re bonded cats i don’t think they have the power to separate us

redbullracing: it’s a trivia game…

maxverstappen1: THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER

redbullracing: YOU GUYS AREN’T EVEN MARRIED YET?

yourusername: looks like admin just lost their invite to the wedding…

redbullracing: yOU AREN’T ENGAGED?

yourusername: i guess you’ll never know

user11: no way they just teased their engagement in an argument over media duties?

user12: you’re shocked? this is quintessential them

user13: and they’re adding in their little rabid mini-them? i fear f1 is actually not ready

liamlawson30: so when do we get to do cars trivia? or is it all set up for them to win?

yourusername: just say you’re uncultured…

maxverstappen1: get a new personality trait bro

liamlawson30: omg why are you guys on my neck so hard?

maxverstappen1: funny

liamlawson30: this is so not fair why didn’t you guys defend me like this last season?

yourusername: that’s my flesh and blood dude

isackhadjar: duh!

maxverstappen1: i am so in love with y/n i just do what she says, do let it be known that if isack was not related to y/n he would be just another stray cat to me

isackhadjar: sure i’ll take it!

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, isackhadjar and 839,023 others

maxverstappen1: we had the chance to extend our championship lead but with two optimists behind you anything can happen…

view all comments

user21: LMAO THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THIS AND THE LAST POST

user22: isack probably teared up in the stewards room and max crumbled

user23: i mean on his radio as soon as GP said it was isack max was immediately like ‘is he okay?’

isackhadjar: sorry max!

maxverstappen1: no worries buddy, you can pay me back with room service

isackhadjar: so our move marathon is still on?

maxverstappen1: don’t be dumb - obviously!

maxverstappen1: i need my second in command to help defend my snacks from y/n

yourusername: you guys aren’t supposed to have those snacks i’m doing you a favour !!!

isackhadjar: sureeeee

yourusername: i can call your trainers up if you want?

maxverstappen1: NO WE’RE OKAY

user24: esteban ocon is not okay seeing this tomfoolery

user25: yeah yeah yeah it’s all fun and games but that’s legit his baby brother of course he wasn’t going to cuss him out

user26: exactly! he’s been with y/n for like four years? of course he was concerned about isack’s safety than his race

landonorris: i’m not surprised, just disappointed

maxverstappen1: why?

landonorris: I’M YOUR BEST FRIEND AND YOU STILL AIRED ME OUT ONLINE?

maxverstappen1: first of all y/n is my best friend

maxverstappen1: second of all isack is my baby brother

maxverstappen1: third of all you’re annoying

yourusername: heavy on number three

landonorris: i GIVE UP WITH YOU PEOPLE

user27: i love watching max and y/n making people crash out in instagram comments

user28: couples that terrorise together, stay together

georgerussell63: interesting ….

yourusername: you wanna say something

georgerussell63: suddenly not anymore

maxverstappen1: LMAO

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 459,034 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, isackhadjar & pepemarti

yourusername: bond a little bit stronger than a lil crash in a formula one race

view all comments

user29: if they don’t get married and live happily ever after i might just sue them

user30: so real

user31: they’re my parents and i can’t go up to four christmasses

redbullracing: that was millions in damage

yourusername: you gonna invoice me for it?

redbullracing: no?

yourusername: then get the fuck out of my comments this is a wholesome post

user32: why is pepe here?

pepemarti: i am just as much part of the hadjar family as max

maxverstappen1: well that’s just factually incorrect

pepemarti: nuh uh

maxverstappen1: ??? i’m marrying in? what are you doing?

pepemarti: i’m mama hadjar and y/n’s favourite so divine intervention

maxverstappen1: @yourusername please dispell this nonsense

yourusername: look at his lil face …

pepemarti: :p

isackhadjar: i’ll be clear i am not marrying pepe

pepemarti: that’s not what you told me the other day :(

user33: can someone make a chart this is all a bit confusing now

user34: i don’t think anything is helping with this chaos

maxverstappen1: i love you forever and ever, even if your brother puts me in the wall <3

yourusername: awww i love you too bubs

maxverstappen1: but i am your favourite though?

yourusername: don’t tell them but yes!

isackhadjar: these are public comments?

pepemarti: i’m legally blind now

fin.

note: a quicky i wrote during the super bowl lol - hope you enjoy xx

[planet-dusk]

Sub hybrid fox! Jeongin who’s in heat and cannottt stop himself from humping you whenever he’s near you. Even if he cums in his pants, he’ll keep going and whining about how much it hurts, but he’s still so hard and needs to fill you up with cubs

🏷️ cw ; degradation, breeding, knotting, name calling: slut, pet names: baby, good boy ( 716 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

"please please please..." jeongin's ears were drooping, flattened against his head in distress. his face pressed into your neck. "you smell so good," he groaned. "need to... now..."

"need what now, baby?"

your hand cupped him through his pants and jeongin shuddered.

"you're soaked already." you whistled, impressed. "how many times did you cum just from watching me?"

jeongin stared at the floor. a pink flush of perverse pride and embarrassment crept up his neck and settled on his cheeks.

"eight," he whispered.

"i can't hear you."

"eight times."

you remained silent and jeongin didn't dare look up. he was mortified, his aching cock hurting so bad it made him dizzy. all he could think about was how he had to get inside of you. how warm your tight hole would feel around his cock. how you'd milk him of his cum and how he'd plug you up and...

"eight times, and you're not done yet? how pathetic."

jeongin's tail twitched and you smiled coyly. "is looking at me not enough? am i not enough for you?"

his eyes widened, "no, no..." he stammered, "that's not... it's.. you.. you are more than enough - i'd never -"

"then look at me." you shimmied out of your pants, dragging your underwear down with them and dropping it on the floor. "sit."

jeongin knew his place. he slid off the couch and knelt before you, his face now level with your glistening cunt as you opened your legs. the sight and scent overwhelmed him, cock so painful and swollen he couldn't help but paw at it over his jeans in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

"don't touch yourself. show me what a desperate slut you really are."

you dipped a hand between your folds, spreading sweet slick over your clit and playing with your hole by pressing a single finger knuckle deep. jeongin knew it couldn't be anywhere near as satisfying as his own bigger hands or his thick cock but you didn't seem to care. you played with yourself with slow strokes that had the sole intention of driving him crazy.

jeongin was sure he looked like a rabid dog, drool pooling underneath his tongue and ears tense. he sat there frozen as you wiped your fingers off on his cheek. he felt the heat of your arousal burn through his skin and thought he might've been begging all along, but no words seemed to come out. he growled, suddenly shooting forwards.

"wait."

he stopped inches away from your swollen pussy. his whole body shook with constrained effort. you petted his dark hair, allowing him to come a little closer. if he were to stuck out his tongue now he could taste you...

"good boy," you said when he didn't move, and jeongin's chest flooded with warmth. "come."

he was on top of you before you could close your mouth, tumbling you both back into the couch. he clawed at your thighs to hike them around his hips and rut into you, cock slipping over your mound and smacking against your clit. you knew it was impossible for him to compose himself any longer so you let him fumble and grind into you blindly, fat cockhead making you moan every time it caught on your hole. it was leaking and swollen, too thick to just slide in until jeongin grabbed the base with a growl of frustration and sank into you in one quick, burning stroke.

without the usual prep of his fingers the stretch bordered on painful. jeongin gave you no time to adjust but neither did you order him to. he hiked your legs up instead until your knees were hooked over his shoulders and your body pinned underneath him. the angle forced a whimper out of you, quickly morphing into a strangled moan as he set a punishing pace. it was void of its usual rhythm and solely focused on the finish line, release the only thing on his mind. to fill you up. to breed.

you panted out praise between the curling heat in your tummy and his desperate noises, his cock swelling and stretching you to your limit as cum flooded your walls. excess dripped out of your spent hole, past his thickening knot locking in the remainder. "my good boy," you murmured between his soft thank you thank you thank you's, "think you can make it to fifteen?"

© planet-dusk reposting, copying and translating my works is prohibited.

[wisecura]

Closer

College AU: somewhat enemies to lovers/fwb

Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader 3.3k

Summary: as long as you’ve known him, Bakugo has been your least favorite person. He’s loud, arrogant, and you’re his favorite target to mess with. And how you ended up at the same frat party, on the same night, in the same closet—you’ll never know.

Warnings: enemies to lovers trope, ex boyfriend, you aren’t completely aware how he feels, you hate him, semi-public sex, fingering, kissing, choking, degradation, belittling, pet names, not so nice names, your horny, aren’t we all?, breeding, claiming, jealousy, did I miss anything?

AN: Am I putting off my Sheets series to write another short fan fic? yes. Is that a bad thing? maybe. Should I stop?...*huffs indignantly* no.

Needed a change of pace for a minute so thank you for reading! This is entirely educational for me. I’m still new to writing and need a better grasp on writing out these scenarios and scenes. Thank you for giving this a shot and let me know how it is! Sorry if the proofread is a bit off!

The look in his eye was downright nasty.

Nothing short of plain cruel as he glared down at you.

How on earth you found yourself stuck in a damn near locker-sized closet was a mystery. And how you managed to find yourself squished against your absolute least favorite person, Katsuki Bakugo, was a goddamn anomaly.

“Can you get the hell off my foot-�� You shush him quickly, your ear peeled to the door.

“Don’t shush me. You’re the one who dragged me in here like a damn lunatic. You wanna play seven minutes that badly?”

You glare up at him in the dim closet, his stupid cocky smirk barely visible in the sliver of light from the cracks in the door. He was so smug it was almost unbearable standing this close to him. You’re already kicking yourself for acting so impulsively. Your voice hushes out in a whisper-“Oh, please. I’d rather be stuck in here with a rabid raccoon than you.”

“Tch, you’re practically clinging to me right now. You sure about that, princess?”

Your cheeks flush as you realize just how close you actually are to him, your chest brushing against his every time you breathe. The cramped space offers no room to move away, and his broad shoulders make it feel even smaller. “I’m not clinging to you, you idiot! There’s no fucking room in here to not be touching you.”

He chuckles lowly. The sound reverberating in his chest. You don’t know if it’s the stale beer running through your system or the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in two months. It’s annoyingly attractive, and you hate the flush that settles across you face. Sure he was handsome as hell—6’2, chiseled body, handsomely sharp features. Deep red eyes that drew you in and that windswept blonde hair. And of course—what ruined everything for you—that mouth.

“Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.” Words dripping with a condescension that he reserved solely for you.

And those fucking pet names—You’re about to snap back when you hear the muffled sound of voices outside the closet. Your heart jumps into your throat as one of them catches your attention—it’s your ex. Just the one person you were trying to avoid. He was chatting with someone but it was muffled—“Yeah, I swear I saw her come upstairs. Someone said she'd be here tonight.”

Your blood runs cold, and your fingers instinctively clench at his chest. You lean in closer to hear him through the door. Bakugo stiffens at first, at your somehow closer proximity, then leans down slightly so his lips are near your ear.

“What? you scared—“ your hand covers his mouth in milliseconds. Effectively shutting up the loud mouthed blonde.

He manages to understand your wordless request…but his breath is so warm against your skin, and you curse yourself for the way it sends shivers down your spine. He notices, of course—because of course he does—and his grin turns downright wicked. In hushed tones—

“Relax, princess. He’s not gonna find you. Though if he does, this’ll be one hell of a misunderstanding, yeah?”

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yeah? And you’re a real pain in the ass, but here I am, letting you feel me up like your life depends on it.”

You want to shove him, tell him off, something—but the voices outside the closet are coming closer and closer. You press yourself back against the opposite wall, but only at expense of your stability. Those fucking heels that you insisted on wearing tonight almost took you out. Fortunately, Bakugo managed to steady you. And unfortunately, you now have to feel every inch of his chest pressed that much more against you. His hands now grip your waist tightly, and your almost flush with him. “Careful now. You’re starting to look a little flustered there.”

“I’m not flustered. I’m annoyed.”

“Sure, that’s what that is.” You hear your ex speak again, his voice laced with thinly veiled frustration. Now sounding right outside the door. “Where the hell is she? Did she sneak out or something?”

You hold your breath, your heart hammering in your chest as his footsteps pause. Bakugo notices, his teasing demeanor shifting slightly as his gaze flicks to a sliver in the door. For a moment, he looks almost serious. Before long, the footsteps retreat, and your ex’s voice fades as he heads back downstairs. You can hear his laugh echoing the hall.

The silence in the closet was deafening. You realize you’re still leaning against him as you attempt to move back. You don’t get far though, your legs are basically tangled at this point. Trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck.

“Don’t. Say. A word.”

Bakugo leans back against the wall, and you know he’s about to push every button you have. This was an awkward situation to be in. And all by your own doing.

“What, about how you were clinging to me like I’m your knight in shining armor? Or how red your face is right now?”

“I swear to god, I hate you.”

He pauses for a second. “Seriously, what’s his deal, though? Why the hell is he looking for you so damn bad? Thought you two were done.”

You glance up at him, your head spinning. The buzz you had was still going—not enough to consider yourself drunk, but enough to make the cramped closet feel warmer than it should be. His sharp crimson eyes are locked on you, his expression a little too serious. Once again he just looked pissed off. You have the mind to feel embarrassed about the situation. The two of you were never close, arguing more than anything.

“I don’t know. He’s…weird like that. He doesn’t like losing, even when he doesn’t actually want me.”

“Tch. Sounds about right. He’s always been a piece of shit.”

Your eyes narrow at him, even though deep down you know he’s right. His abrasive and blunt nature always grated on your nerves. Though there’s something about hearing it now, in this moment, that makes it hit differently. You'd never been one to back down from one of the many fights you shared with him.

“Oh, and you’re so much better? You’ve never been nice to me once, Bakugo.”

He snorts. “Yeah, maybe I’m not nice. But at least I’m not out there screwing around behind your back. You sure know how to pick 'em.”

His words sting and you feel your brows furrowing. You open your mouth to spew the nastiest insult on your tongue, yet before you can get it out, he leans in just enough to make the cramped closet feel all the more smaller. Now sporting some heavy bedroom eyes, his smug looking face come within inches of yours.

“Do you ever close that damn mouth of yours? That’s probably the real reason you and that asshole aren’t together anymore.”

Irritation bubbling over—half from indignation, half from the way his voice drops lower, rougher, like he’s daring you to argue. Why this turns you on so much, you aren’t sure. You felt your thighs clench slightly. Tying to steady your breathing.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to talk so much if you weren’t always such a jackass!”

You expect him to snap back, to argue, to yell—but instead, he tilts his head, his smirk widening. Knowing. He shifts against you, spreading out all the more, making you hyper-aware of just how close he is. Your heart pounds, the buzz of alcohol mixing with you shit sense of judgement.

Then it happens—you feel his leg between yours, grazing high up on your inner thigh, and a small, involuntary whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it.

Your hand shoots up to your mouth in horror. Embarrassment washing through your very being. The sound hangs in the air, and you instantly wish you could take it back. His eyes widen slightly, obviously a little surprised, before narrowing again. Of course, he leans into it, the teasing his smirk turning downright predatory.

“What the hell was that, princess?”

Your face burns, and you try to turn away, but there’s nowhere to go in the tiny closet. He pulls you closer, the balance on your heels easily teetering you towards him. You try and scramble off his chest—out of the closet, embarrassed and unnervingly needy. But he pulls you towards him again, your hands planted on his chest. You sure as hell couldn't stand the thought of him being the one to throw you a bone tonight. His voice dropping to a taunting whisper.

“Now—hey, hey, where you goin? You just whimper for me? Never thought I’d hear you make a sound like that.”

“I—I didn’t—shut up! and let go!” You hate how breathless you sound. The warmth of his body between your legs was overwhelming, and every inch of space between you feels like too much. You really fucking hated him. Yet the way he looked tonight was so tempting. But that was just the alcohol talkin.

“Nah, I don’t think I will. Not when you’re lookin' at me like that.”

You try to look anywhere but at him, but there’s not much to see in a dim closet, is there? He leans in just enough that his lips are inches from your ear, his voice a low rumble that makes your knees weak. Thank god he was holding you up, right?

“Guess you’re not as tough as you like to act, huh? Or maybe…you just like being put you in your place.”

You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, but the words die in your throat as his hand brushes up your side, slow and deliberate, groping you above your dress. He’s toying with you, and the bastard knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s infuriating how your body betrays you, leaning into his touch. Your fingers grip at his shirt. Your pussy clenching around nothing. His head is firmly planted in the crevice of your neck now, in a far too intimate gesture.

“What’s it gonna be, princess? You gonna tell me to stop? Or are you gonna admit you don’t hate me as much as you think you do?”

You don’t have a second to answer as he nips at you, trailing small kisses in his wake. You feel your hands tremble as you wrap your arms around his neck. You pull him closer.

Bakugo's grip tightens on your waist as you lean into him involuntarily. His cock twitches at the feeling of you pressed against him, as he grinds himself into your sopping core. Your hitched dress making it all the easier. “At least she seems to like me.”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion of his fingers rubbing you through your panties, your eyes rolling back as he expertly plays with your clit. His lips continue their bruising pace, sucking, marking, biting until he finally captures your lips in a brutal all consuming kiss. You whimper against his lips, the punishing pace on your clit has your head spinning. He pulls back, a wet string connecting your lips.

"Fuck you're so wet for me already. Practically drippin'."

He pulls his fingers back, dragging them across his lips, sucking you down till he was clean. His eyes remain on your dazed expression. Yours trail the movement, absolutely feral, practically begging for more. It’s been to long.

"'N you taste so fuckin' good too." His gaze darkened as he watched your hips move against him, seeking some kind of friction. You could feel the heat through his clothes, his dick pressed right up against you. You so badly wanted it inside you—your mouth, your tight hole, hell—anywhere.You couldn’t help but be angry at the loss of his fingers.

"Such a needy little thing. Mmm princess, you're killing me.” You all but whimper at his words, and his restraint snaps. With a damn near animalistic growl, he pins you back against the wall, effectively caging you in place. His head dips, capturing your lips again in another hungry kiss while his free hand hikes your dress up further. He all but rips your panties off, the loud ripping of fabric echoes in the confined space.

You barely notice him slotting them into his pocket, as his fingers finally delve into your slickened folds. His cocked throbbed almost painfully in his pants as you completely melt against him.

You moan against his lips as his fingers slide into your slick heat, a filthy sound escaping you as he starts pumping them in and out roughly. He curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that makes you tremble and whimper even more. He feels your walls tighten around his digits, your body begging for release. He pulls away, looking down at your flushed face, heavy breaths fogging the air between you.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Instead of any coherent response, you let out a needy whimper, trying to avoid giving him the satisfaction of you begging. As if his fingers weren't knuckle deep in your cunt, making you light headed. As if he weren't inches from giving you the best orgasm you've had all year.

"Not good enough, princess. Tell me how much you want my cock inside you." He nibbles your earlobe, his fingers increasing their pace, pushing you closer to the edge. He was being mean. You know he's just taunting you. But you hated the way his words made you gush.

He could obviously feel your body tensing up, he knew you were close. But you know he won't let you come until you said what he wanted. He bites down harder on your earlobe, eliciting a yelp from you. His other hand grips your hip tightly, steadying you as he thrusts his fingers in deeper. Your slick coating his hand, dripping down your thigh. "Say it," he growls, his voice low and demanding. Your body writhes against his touch, your whimpers and whines picking up. "Come on. You know you want to. Beg me to fill you up." You getting wetter and wetter, gushing around his fingers as they slid in and out effortlessly.

"Please Katsuki…fuck me…please…" Finally, rewarded with your broken plea, he smirks triumphantly before pulling his fingers out of you, leaving you damn near foaming at the mouth.

"About time," He growls, savoring the sweet sound of your desperate panting before he roughly pushes your legs further apart, hiking one leg up. His fingers bruising your thigh, spreading you open for him. His fingers are replaced by something far better—his hard cock. His head falls back with a strangled moan leaving his lips when he finally buries himself in your sloppy cunt. Bakugo doesn't take his time, no, he fucks you like he owns you.

Hard and fast, like a man starved. His movements are rough and animalistic, his hips slamming into yours with groans and grunts of his own. You're sure people outside can hear you, even over the loud music. But you're so cock-drunk, mind hazy that you don't really fucking care who hears you—you just want him.

"You're so goddamn tight, princess." He mutters, his voice husky, and sounding almost impressed. You let out a choked moan, nails digging into his shoulders. He grasps your hip roughly, his pace picking up. Thrusting deeper, faster, harder, until all you can hear are your wet squelches filling the closet. Your tight little pussy clenching around him like a vice. He groans against your neck, teeth digging into the tender flesh.

"Such a greedy little slut, aren't you?" You aren't able to respond—his cock bullying your cervix at every thrust, oh so deliciously. Each word bringing you closer and closer, as you practically drool at the thought of his cum buried into you. You meet his thrust with your own small grinds as he gives you another throaty moan. "Oh fuck yes—" His grip on you tightens, sure to bruise indents forming under his fingertips, as he drives his fat cock into you g-spot repeatedly. "Is this what you wanted? Wanted my big cock to full you up?" thrusting harder with each word. "Fucking needy little thing, you wanna cum for me?" His hand winds up to wrap around your neck, as you clench harder around him. He hisses at the feeling, "Or should I just leave you unsatisfied like that worthless ex of yours?" He smirks down at you and you cant help the gasps coming from your wet lips. "He ever make you this wet, sweetheart? You ever had such a good cock?" You shake your head, quickly, always eager to please.

"No, I fucking thought so." His tone drips with satisfaction. He thrust into you with a brutal ferocity, clearly enjoying the way you whimper and squirm under his touch. "You always did have shit taste in men." His grip tightens on your neck, not enough to suffocate you, but enough to make you gasp and dip your nails in deeper. "But that ends now, princess." He growls against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "I'm gonna be the only one fucking you like this from now on. You hear me? Should I tell you what I'm going to do to you? How I'm going to fill you up—make you mine?" His words are hot against your ear, his breath fanning over your flushed skin. That dick hitting every sweet spot that makes you see stars. "Or maybe I’ll just show you."

His fell grip on your neck tightens just a fraction, making it more difficult to breathe as he slams into you even harder. You hear people in the hallway, but he doesn't seem to care. "I'm gonna fuck you so good you won’t even remember your own name, let alone his." His words boarded on venomous, and if you didn’t know any better—you’d say he was jealous. His hips grind against yours in a punishing rhythm. "Then I'm gonna cum inside you, fill you up with my seed." His voice drops to a low growl as he whispers his intentions into your ear. "I'm gonna breed you. Make you mine." He can feel you tensing around him, your orgasm building fast. "Say it, princess. Say you want me to breed you." He thrusts his fingers into your mouth, coated in your own juices. "Say you want my cum inside you."

"Please, Katsuki…fuck, please, please cum inside me…breed me—" he lets out a low groan at that. "Such a good girl, so fucking good for me." That's all the encouragement he needs. With a growl, he slams into you one last time, his cock pulsing as he fills you up, long streams of curses filling the small space, telling you to take it, take it, sucha good girl. Your walls contracting around him, milking him dry as your orgasm crashes over you, spasming around his cock. His grip on your neck loosens slightly as he pulls back, watching as you ride out your climax. Your eyes are glazed over, mouth open as you try to catch your breath.

"Fuck, princess. That was…goddamn." He pants, resting his forehead against yours. For a brief moment, his expression softens, but it's gone as fast as it appeared. He withdraws from you slowly, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. You can feel his cum pooling between your legs, dripping down. He reaches down, pushing it back up into you, plugging you up.

"Mmm, look at you. Such a mess for me." He says, voice low and husky, before leaning in and licking a long, possessive stripe on your neck. His body pressing in against yours. Your cheeks ignite at the intimate gesture. It’s felt too—too intimate now. Too much. You finally have some clarity at the situation, "Hey, uhm—" and suddenly there was a knock. Both of your eyes shoot wide open in panic. Bakugo straightens up, pulling himself back leaving you cold, before tucking himself back into his pants. You watch in mortification, tugging your dress back over you legs. You panties missing—somewhere.

Fuck

come home

[fawnpires]

husband!könig who is well aware of how much an important man he is — a higher ranked in-position soldier, a colonel to kortac. other than filling in the status of your significant other, he was undoubtedly a man of both authority and independence. this also means a routine to expect on how regularly he's contacted about work, calls and messages throughout the day sourcing from that cellphone of his even when he's temporarily relieved off of his duties—and when he’s got his cock pounding into your sweet little cunt.

könig uses his shoulder and ear to hold his phone up, those stoic eyes of his holding a certain playful sort-of gleam to them as he watched you slap a hand over your mouth while struggling to hold in those needy moans you couldn't help but let out when the motions of his thrusts grows more violent and rabid just to catch you off guard in keeping quiet. he silently chuckles to himself before using his now-free hand to rub a thumb at your engorged clit and the other supported at your waist while he continued speaking on the other end with, who you assumed, was another higher-rank just like him.

"oh, my wife? she’s a real good girl, taking things so well - our marriage and all." he said into the phone, his smirk seeming to grow along with those words. (which seemed to have an ambigious meaning.)

and when he’s done practically torturing you with multi-tasking on both giving you a good temporary quiet fuck and talking business, his phone is thrown and long abandoned on the further corner of the bed—sheets coming off the edge and shuffled in a disorderly fashion. both large palms are clasped over your waist, his upper body sloped over you and having you in a shadowy cover. your hand shakily falls from your mouth, resuming this symphony of desperate noises of pleasure out-loud instead of muffled with your hands to his back and painting red lines into the naked stretch there. könig's onslaught of brutal thrusts kiss right up against your cervix, giving you remembrance to his each vein, each detail to his cock whenever he fucked into you just like this.

"you're such a spoiled girl, engel, — scheiße, — just couldn't wait until i was done to fuck this pretty little pussy of yours." he chuckles breathily, throwing his head back while grunting alongside and feeling himself losing entirely into you. "but who am i to refuse my pretty wife, huh?"

[killerpancakeburger]

I'm the powder, you’re the fuse

SUMMARY: Soap finds out that his girlfriend is a skilled mercenary. And that he likes it... a lot.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader

TAGS: Established relationship, Badass!Reader, Smitten!Soap.

WARNINGS: Canon violence, misogynistic comments/insults, mention of: blood, death, kidnapping/hostage taking, torture, weapons, suggestive content (Soap is Horny), military inaccuracies, swearing.

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

A/N: yes I am still writing the civilian fic with Ghost and Soap... but then I had this idea and thought I could finish it ""quickly"". Written on mobile so if there are mistakes feel free to tell me!!

Soap let out a yawn big enough to dislocate his jaw, staring at his captain with mild resentment.

“This couldn’t hae waited til after breakfast, sir?”

“‘Fraid It could not, John. Actually in just a few minutes you'll be barking at me to know why we haven't gotten a move on already.”

Johnny looked back at his superior with perplexity, before glancing over at his teammates around the table, hoping for a scrap of information. Ghost remained imperturbable while Gaz shrugged.

“We received this video thirty minutes ago. Addressed to a certain Sergeant MacTavish.”

His captain turned on the projector and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall behind him. It was his teammates’ turn to glance at him questioningly, and to him to shrug with ignorance.

The Scottish soldier rubbed his face in an attempt to get rid of his lasting drowsiness as the video projected on the white screen facing them was starting.

A group of armed men in balaclavas were occupying a room. The one in the front spouted the classic ransom demand in exchange for a hostage. Nothing worth being summoned at the crack of dawn for.

Then the spokesman moved aside, revealing their detainee, bound to a chair and gagged, shooting daggers at her captors, and Soap almost knocked over the table with how brutally he stood up. Carried away by white-hot fury, he slammed his hands on the table.

“Fuckin’ - what the fuck is this!? When did this happen? Where are those fucking bastards? I -”

Rage had roughened his usually smooth voice, granting it a gravelly pitch, turning his shout into a growl.

“Control yourself, Sergeant”, interrupted Price, “It's not over yet.”

On the screen, the same man as before grabbed your hair, ignoring your murderous glare, forcing you to look at the camera, and coaxed you with disdain before taking off your gag:

“Come on doll, gonna have to beg real pretty for your man to get him to rescue you.”

The second your mouth was freed, you snarled at him, baring your teeth like you were about to bite.

“I'm gonna rip your throat out with my bare hands, you f-”

“Fuck, someone muzzle that rabid bitch”, swore your agressor, your belligerence clearly having thrown a wrench in his plans.

Soap could not help the flare of pride soaring in his chest at the view of your defiance and your grit.

After receiving their orders, the team left the room to prepare themselves for the assault. 

“A friend of yours?” asked Gaz, while Ghost questioned “Ya know her?”

“That's mah girl”, admitted the Scotsman, a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away. The cat was out of the bag. For your own sake, you had been a well-kept secret, but it was blatant that it didn’t protect you.

“Been together for a year. Never meant to drag her into this, though.”

“She sounds like a bloody riot, mate.” teased Garrick.

“She doesn't seem fazed to be taken hostage. Mainly pissed.” pointed out Ghost, wary.

“She's fearless.” admitted Soap with an enamored little smile. “Doesn't mean we don’t have to get her out of this though.”

His expression shifted from fondness to cold determination.

“‘F course.”

“We've got your back.”

“Gaz? You copy?” called Ghost over coms.

The afornamed was tasked with overwatch. His response arrived, marked by hesitation.

“...  I don't think she needs our help, guys.”

“The fuck s’that supposed to mean?” grumbled the Lieutenant.

“It'd be better if you'd see for yourselves. Third window on the right, second floor.”

Ghost took out a pair of binoculars and pointed them at the given position.

“Fooking hell…”

The expletive was mumbled with a mix of surprise and… awe?

“What? What! Lemme see L.T.!” pleaded Soap.

Ghost quickly passed him the tool, eager to make him shut up. The sergeant hastened to shove them against his face. His gaze took in the sight in front of him and he let out an appreciative whistle.

“Steamin’ jesus…”

He drank in the view that was your bloody display of fierce skill and deadly efficiency. You staggered between the enemies with fluidity, making them seem like clumsy amateurs. Slicing a throat there, shooting a head here, he watched with fascination as you used a dead attacker as a human shield.

“I think I'm hard.”

“TMI,  Soap.” 

Gaz coupled his comment with a gagging noise.

“Can ye blame me! Mah lass is oot there bein’ a bonafide badass ‘n’ that's the hottest shit a've ever seen.”

“M not blaming you for being a horny bastard, I'm blaming you for not keeping it to yourself.”

“If you two are done bickering, we could go pick her up.” groaned Ghost.

Letting Garrick past, he grabbed Soap by the shoulder as he was walking by him.

“You knew?”

“Knew what?”

“That you were going out with a killer.”

“Nae, but it turned out to be a good thing, didn’t it? Cannae imagine how badly this would have ended with a civilian. The wounds, the trauma…”

Ghost let out one of his grunts that Johnny knew meant “I disagree but it's not worth debating you about it.”

Positioning themselves near that final entrance, Soap nodded in response to Ghost's hand signal, waiting for him to break the door down. They were still on their gard in case some of the assailants survived.

In the ensuing silence, your voice reached his ears through the wall he was propped against.

“Come on doll”, you taunted, imitating your captor's scornful tone from earlier, sickly sweet then venomous. “Tell me who you work for and I won't gouge out your remaining eye.”

Johnny gulped. Eavesdropping on this definitely did not help with the… situation in his pants.

The racket produced by Ghost dealing with the door had the merit to make him focus once again. 

His body moving automatically, his training taking over, Soap charged into the room, pointing his rifle at the only person left standing there. Like a reflection of himself, you were aiming your own firearm at him. Your eyebrows were frowned in concentration, your eyes glinting with cold determination. Then recognition dawned on your face, and you heaved a sigh of relief, lowering your weapon.

“It's you! You scared the shit out of me.”

Relief flooded through him at the sight of you, bruised, battered, and blood-spattered, but alive. He tossed his gun aside as you put down yours, ready to embrace you, but Ghost's voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Back off, Soap.”

An order. Johnny stared at him in shock.

“What the hell, L.T.?”, he hissed in his direction.

You docilely raised your hands in the air as the masked man lined up the end of his gun's barrel with your head.

“Worst rescue party ever”, you mumbled to yourself.

“Sorry, Johnny”, grumbled Skullface, not sounding sorry in the slightest, never taking his eyes off you. “But do your usual conquests take down a dozen armed men on their own?”

Illustrating his words, he gestured with his rifle to the ground littered with corpses. The man you had started to interrogate - the only one left alive - whined in pain.

“So what's your deal? Ya a mole? Shagging Johnny for intel?”

“Ghost!” Soap gasped, offended for himself as much as for you. “M not some clueless newbie!”

You made a face at the question. You understood where he was coming from, hell you’d do the same if the roles were reversed, but that didn’t mean you enjoyed sharing details of your sordid past, especially with a stranger. The less people knew about it, the better.

“I used to be a mercenary for a family who did organized crime. Been clean for years though.”

“Oh yeah? They let you leave just like that?”

“The boss’ daughter had a soft spot for me.”

The lieutenant stared at you for a few more seconds, as if judging the veracity of your statements through sight alone, before lowering his weapon.

A resounding “Bonnie!” rang out. Next thing you knew, your boyfriend's muscular arms closed around you, causing you to yelp, pain running through you at the overeager contact. Soap cursed and apologized profusely.

“Bloody hell, a'm sorry, didnae mean tae hurt ye. Are ye alright? Show me where it hurts. If those bastards leid a hand on ye, I swear-”

There was something both flattering and arousing with how the more Soap lost his cool, the more pronounced his accent became, and the rougher his voice sounded. You placed a finger across his mouth to put an end to his verbal onslaught, an endeared smile on your own.

“At ease, soldier. I'm OK, just some bruised ribs and a busted eyebrow.” you summarized while pointing to the trickle of dried blood on the side of your face.

He leaned his forehead against yours, a gesture that felt terribly intimate, an adoring grin adorning his lips.

“Cannae believe ye wiped out those sorry fuckers all on yer own. Fuck, that's hot.” he confessed in a subdued tone.

You threw your head back in laughter, only to wince when your sore ribs manifested themselves.

“Never heard that one before. Could get used to it, though.”

You laced your fingers behind his neck, nonchalantly leaning against him, not fighting back an impish smile. Soap's hands grabbed your hips in response. Your roguish expression must have gotten the better of his restraint, because one breath later, he was hungrily pressing his mouth against yours. You replied in kind, swiftly deciding you did not care for his colleagues’ presence, and he moaned in appreciation.

After a minute or two, you broke the kiss against your will, remembering an issue that needed to be solved. You smiled, amused by the vision that was Soap chasing your lips blindly, then pouting when you refused him.

“So you guys are gonna take care of the bodies, right…? I can deal with one or two, but this is a bit much.”

The last soldier, the one you didn’t hear from yet, a pretty man with dark skin that Soap would later introduce as Gaz, assured you that they would handle it.

Transferring your attention back to Johnny, you noticed a trace of guilt in those ocean eyes of his, as he was staring at you.

“Something wrong?”

“Ye not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” you frowned.

“It's mah fault if those bastards took ye.”

“Oh, Johnny…” you sighed wistfully, cupping his face. “I knew what the risks were when I chose to date a soldier. Plus, there will always be a chance that my past catches up to me. I was pretty fucking mad when I got a hood shoved on my head and my arms twisted behind my back before getting hauled away in the middle of the fucking night, but not at you.”

Once they gathered all the intel they needed and dragged away the only survivor, the team and you left the building. Your testimony was required for the mission report, so you accompanied them without protest, longing for the care that would be provided by their medical facility.

As you were walking to their vehicule, hand in hand with Soap, you noted how he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

His cerulean eyes kept greedily roaming all over you, like you were a vision so dream-like it was making him doubt your reality, like you would vanish the second he stopped contemplating you.

“Yer one badass lass, y'know that? ‘M so proud o’ ye. Proud tae be yers.”

A/N: Ghost's "grunts that Johnny knew meant “I disagree but it's not worth debating you about it.” " is based on my grandma 💀

[sister-lucifer]

I just want Brian to pull down my panties, cum in them, lift them back up, and send me on my way. I am down tremendously-

content/warnings: noncon, physical restraint, reader is AFAB and wears panties but no gender is specified, “cunt” and “pussy” used to describe reader’s genitalia, thigh fucking, pervert Brian, no actual penetrative sex, reader gets jumped in the woods, little to no build up/plot it’s just straight into the porn

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Without warning you’re suddenly shoved to the ground, a heavy weight coming down on your back to keep you there. You yelp in surprise as you feel a body land on top of yours, pushing you into the dirt and sending a sharp pain through your ribs as they bend beneath the force of two people. 

Your attempt to yell out is swiftly cut short when a gloved hand tangles itself in your hair, gripping it tightly as it muffles your cries with the soft dirt on the forest floor. You can feel the small rocks hidden in the soil leaving scrapes on your cheeks as you thrash.

The stranger’s second hand comes down on your back, grabbing at your waist to pull your ass into the air as he hastily, almost clumsily pulls up the bottom of your shirt. He fumbles with the waistband of your shorts, fingers slipping over your button as the fabric of his glove fights with him. He lets up on your hair for one second just so he can use both hands, violently yanking at the fasten of your jeans until it surrenders to his efforts with a harsh ripping sound. He pulls your zipper down so fast it nearly breaks, and even quicker still he’s jerking your shorts down your hips and then your thighs. You’re only allowed to lift your head long enough to cough and spit, wincing at the feeling of dirt in your teeth. You manage to turn and look back at your attacker for only a split second before your face is back against the ground. You whimper against the earth as the sight of the hooded man flashes before your eyes. 

You swear that you can hear him chuckle under his breath at the squeal that crawls up your throat as you feel him pulling eagerly at your panties. You thrash against him as much as you can, but despite your best efforts the pressure on your head and back keeps you disoriented. It’s clear what he wants, though; he lets up just a bit when you sit still. You’re tiring yourself out fast, and you both know it.

You shiver when your panties are pulled down to your knees, resting against the ground and exposing your delicate cunt to the eyes of this aggressive pervert. He smiles under his mask, an expression of absolute debauchery hidden behind black fabric and a sewn on red frown that’ll be burned into your memory forever. 

The strangled noise you let out when you feel him rut against your waiting pussy through his jeans is mortifying. The denim and its metal button are harsh against your sensitive flesh as the stranger practically humps you like a wild dog, hard on twitching in his pants. You can hear him huffing through his mask, breathing heavily through the gaps in his gritted teeth. He’s desperate, nearly rabid with need for a reason that’s beyond you. 

You freeze when you hear him fumble with his zipper, gloved knuckles brushing your back as he struggles with only thing keeping him restrained. A heavy gasp makes your body shake when you suddenly feel the already leaking tip of his cock brush against your thigh. 

“W-Wait, don’t—!” You stammer, thrashing even harder in his grip with the last of your energy. He shushes you harshly, fingers tightening harshly in your hair as a warning. 

“Don’t be so loud,” He whispers, “You’re fine. I ain’t gonna hurt ya unless you make me…” 

You squeak in surprise when his cock slides between your trembling thighs. You instinctively squeeze your legs together, only to cringe when he moans in response. He lets out a shuddering sigh of pleasure as he repositions himself over you, finally releasing your hair only to pin your hands down, wrapping your body in his to keep you still as he starts to thrust. The noises that are pulled from your throat every time he pushes forward are viscerally humiliating, especially the way your voice cracks when his shaft just barely brushes your clit, not once threatening to break through your entrance but taking horrid delight in using it for his own pleasure. He’s shameless in the noise he makes, huffing and groaning in your ear and cursing under his breath every time he moves. 

He barely keeps a steady pace, his desperation becoming apparent with each thrust. You can feel his cock twitch against your thighs as it slides between them, able to feel every vein that runs up the side, all of them pumping hard and fast with adrenaline and primal need. You shudder to think what it would’ve felt like had he decided to use your hole instead.

“H-Haah…you’re…g-getting wet,” He growls in your ear, as though it’s an insult. It may as well be. You whine and turn away from him, biting your lip and ignoring the fact that you can feel yourself soaking his cock and it slides against your cunt. 

You can feel him starting to tremble, and you know in an instant he won’t last much longer. You suck in a breath, silently hoping whatever he chooses to do won’t leave a mess on your back or thighs. You won’t be able to deal with it until you’ve made the trek all the way back down the trail. 

“Gonna…g-gonna cum—“ He whispers through gritted teeth. His hands squeeze around yours, grip getting tighter and tighter, almost to a painful degree as he chases his release with reckless abandon. He’s staring to lose whatever little bit of restraint he has left, and fast. 

All at once his resolve collapses, guttural noises of pleasure falling from his lips as his hips slam erratically against you. He barely manages to choke out one last word of warning before suddenly he stops, cock head barely nestled between your thighs as his entire body tenses and shakes with the force of an orgasm that nearly makes him cry out. He barely manages to strangle the sound before it leaves his throat, cock twitching as it releases hard and fast. You cringe in anticipation of feeling the sticky warmth trail down your thighs, but the sensation never comes. After a few moments you sigh, relieved to have been granted this one small mercy. 

You’re too dazed and dizzy to move when he finally gets up off of you. You stay on the ground despite your humiliating position, and despite the wicked chuckle your attacker allows to slip. 

His boots crunch on the ground, and for a moment you think he’s just going to walk away, leave you here to take care of yourself. Then you feel your panties being slid back up your thighs. You can only be confused for a moment before you’re struck with the uncomfortable feeling of your warm, soaking panties squeezing around the mound of your cunt. The substance is thick and unbearably sticky, not to mention far too much for it to have come from you, especially without an orgasm. 

You flinch and squeal as he fastens your shorts back in place around your waist, tightly keeping your panties in place and making sure you can’t escape the feeling of his cum soaking your pussy and threatening to stain your jeans. 

He stands back up, buttoning his jeans and adjusting his pants a bit before shoving his hands back in the pocket of his faded yellow hoodie. He’s silent for a moment, admiring his work with a hidden smirk spread across his face. 

“Better get walkin’, sweetheart,” He teases, toe of his boot nudging your pussy through your shorts, “It’s a loooong way home.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

« Under The Mistletoe || Mizu ||

A/n: Got enough notes! So I am writing it! I apologize of this sucks

Warnings: Fingering, Tribbing, biting, exhibition, Mizu being possessive as fuck, semi-Public sex, oral

A party, she was never invited to a party before and Mizu's first reaction was a blank stare, she had to bite her tongue from flat out rejecting the idea but you just have to give her those damn doe eyes.

She could never say no when you batty those pretty little lashes and sent her that cute little pout and with a reluctant and maybe a too harsh fine she agreed to go.

She really had no choice, someone had to keep an eye on you and the bastard's that dared to step foot close to your vicinity.

Closing her eyes she lent back into your embrace, she loved how gentle you were. How soft your touch was, she wanted more. She was tempted to just pull the sheets away from your body just so she could take you again but she knew she couldn't this was important to your parent's, important to you so with a sigh she pushed off the bed letting the sheets fall from her frame.

A small whine tore from your lips as you watched your lover leave. "Come back to bed Mizu! I lied, I don't want to go anymore."

Mizu couldn't help but let out a snort, know matter how tempting you look she wasn't about to break this promise. Letting her eyes rank over your naked frame, she knelt on the edge of the bed as her hand grasped your chin.

"Just a few hours and then we can go. You can show off that pretty new dress of yours."

Still pouting, a sigh escaped your lips as you meet her steely blue gaze. "Fine....but I'm not going to be happy about it." You grumbled.

"I'm not asking you to be." Mizu lent in closer letting her lips brush yours before she pulled away. "Get dressed."

•

Mizu was starting to regret not staying in that bed with you, especially since you looked so tempting in that red dress so well. The cut was just low enough to show your cleavage off still elegant, it pissed her off by the amount of men that held their gaze where it shouldn't be.

But what really set her off was that bastard trying to kiss you. Mizu recognized the jackass off course, he's been sniffing around you before. Nearly slamming the drink's down on the table she made her way over to you both.

You hadn't meant for this to happen, you were standing under the mistletoe waiting for Mizu to come back hoping to surprise her with a kiss. So why did he of all people have to be the one to approach you? He knew you were taken, his family knew you were taken.

"What do you want Henry."

Your body tensed watching him lean in, his hand grasping your chin. You can practically smell the alcohol on his breath.

"I cannot help your lovely self is all alone, underneath the mistletoe...I came to rectify this issue."

Gritting your teeth you did your best to push down the urge to gag, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. "I am fine! Now please leave me alone."

Narrowing his eyes, the man grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him. "No one say's no to me." He growled out.

"I did....now get your filthy hand's off of me." You stated slapping the man across his cheek though your body shrunk from seeing the anger flash in his eyes you waited for the slap only for it to come, instead the moment you opened your eyes you came to see Mizu's back. One of her hand tightly wrapped around the man's wrist.

"Do you go around assaulting woman? Or just the one's that have no interest in you." Mizu narrowed her eyes. Her grip tightened around his wrist as her other hand pressed her small blade against his groin.Before he had the chance to answer, Mizu bent his wrist backwards as the man yelped. "Come near her again, and I will not hesitate to put you down like the rabid dog you are." She whispered.

The man let out a yelp then cradled his wrist to his chest once Mizu let go as he quickly vanished into the crowd of people.

Nearly squealing, you wrapped your arms around Mizu's neck pulling them down to plant a kiss on her cheek. You felt giddy seeing her defend you, happy. "I do love seeing you get possessive."

Mizu let out a snort though her gaze was still searching for that bastard. Shaking her head she then wove her arm around your waist as she started to tug you off to a random room of the house you were in.

"Where are we going Mizu?"

Giving a quick look around, she pulled you into a random room where she then locked the door. "I'm going to make sure every one of these people know who you belong to."

Letting out an airy laugh, you gave Mizu a teasing grin as you fell back onto the bed. "I do like the sound of that."

"Of course you do, because you're spoiled." Mizu tugged off her hat as she placed it down on the bedside table. "I'm not very sure I should give you what you crave." She crawled onto the bed as she pinned your arms above your head as her other hand slipped under your dress, her fingers slowly pushed aside the cloth covering your core as she let her fingers tease your slit. "I want to hear you sing."

Biting your lip, your hips lift off the bed only for them to be pushed down. "Mizu!" You mewled out her name, a chuckle escaping her lips as she continued to let her fingers dip between the folds of your sex, feeling the wetness that awaited her. She teased and explored, her touch alternating between featherlight strokes and firmer pressure. The sounds of your moans mingled in the air, a symphony of pleasure and need.

"Such a pretty little voice you have." Mizu whispered against your neck as she with drew her fingers from your folds. Her eyes roamed your body she pressed her lips against yours once again.The taste of passion lingering on their tongues. Mizu's kisses were both fervent and tender, a reflection of her desire to both consume and cherish. Her mouth trailed along your jawline, nipping and sucking lightly, relishing in the soft gasps and moans that escaped your lips. Her hands slipped beneath the fabric of your dress tugging it away , the texture of her warm, bare skin sending a jolt of electricity through Mizu's veins. Her touch was electric, her fingers tracing delicate patterns, teasing and caressing every inch of exposed flesh.

Mizu's mouth roamed with a hunger that matched your own, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your neck, collarbone, and chest. Her tongue flicked against sensitive skin, her teeth grazing lightly, drawing forth an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain.

Her hand now roaming your body, tracing the contours of your curves, her touch both gentle and possessive. Her fingers brushed along the swell of your breasts, feeling the softness beneath her fingertips. She couldn't help but marvel at the sight before her, the way your body responded to her every touch, the way your lips parted in ecstasy. It was a sight that she would never tire of.

With a gradual, deliberate motion, Mizu positioned herself between your legs, her own desire driving her forward. She could feel the slickness of your arousal against her skin, guiding her with an intoxicating scent that filled her senses. Mizu's tongue traced a path along the length of your sex, relishing in the taste of you, your musky sweetness mingling with the sweat that coated your bodies. As Mizu's lips and tongue danced across your most intimate parts, she reveled in the soft moans that escaped from her lover's lips. Each flick of her tongue, each gentle suck, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Mizu was wholly focused on you, her attentions honed to bring her lover to the brink of ecstasy. "Mizu! Mizu!" Your face turning to press into the pillow as you held back a cry as you felt her tongue glide across your clit.

Pulling back before you could reach your climax, Mizu's blue gaze darkened seeing your body still flushed. A smirk formed on her lips as she tugged away the suit she wore, freeing her hair she hovered about you grabbing your hips letting your heat press against hers. "So beautiful."

Mizu's breath hitched at the sound of your whimpers as her own desire surging through her veins like a wildfire. The sensation of you rubbing against her, the heat and urgency in your movements, sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through Mizu's body. She allowed herself to be consumed by the raw intensity of their connection, her own nails digging into your flesh in response to the overwhelming sensations. "Mmm," Mizu groaned, her voice a mixture of need and longing. Her hips instinctively moved in rhythm with your own, your bodies creating a symphony of pleasure. The friction between you both became more fervent, the heat building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you two. Mizu's lips found their way to your neck, her teeth grazing against the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks in her wake. Her tongue flicked out to soothe the sting, before she whispered in a husky voice, "You feel so good, my love. Let go, surrender to the pleasure." She continued to grind against your pussy, your body moving in harmony with Mizu's, driven by an insatiable hunger for one another. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and gasps, the symphony of your shared desire echoing off the walls.

With a firm grip, Mizu then grasped your hips, guiding your movements, your bodies moving in sync, your desires merging into a symphony of need. The friction between you two intensified, your combined heat building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you both. Her heart hammering in her chest as she felt her clit brushing against your own. Lost in the waves of pleasure, Mizu's grip on control began to slip, her movements becoming more desperate, more urgent. She could feel her climax building, a tidal wave of ecstasy threatening to crash over her. With a final surge of passion, Mizu's body arched, her release crashing through her like a tempest, her voice mingling with yours in a chorus of pleasure.

She could feel your release mixed with her own, she did not care of she just made a mess in some strangers bed. As the aftershocks of your pleasure coursed through your bodies, Mizu held you close, your hearts pounding in unison. As you both lay intertwined, your breaths mingling, your bodies basking in the aftermath of your connection.

A soft smile formed on Mizu's lips, she could feel your fingers tracing the scars until you grasped her wrist. Kissing the tattoo you smiled giving her a soft kiss. "Next time I am making you feel good."

Shaking her head, Mizu pulled your naked body close. "I would love that." She stated. "I love you."

Kissing her once last time, you held back a yawn as you did your best to not fall asleep. "I love you too, My Mizu."

•

Talking to a few of his friends, your father paused for a moment as he spotted Mizu carrying you out of a bedroom. From his spot he could see you were sleeping your body wrapped in a large blanket. The one he started to see has his own daughter did not seem to mind the gaze on you both.

Tapping out his cigar, deep chuckle escaped his lips as you both vanished from view his attention now on the man still cradling his hand. "I see you had a run in with my future son-in law."

While the man may not understand Mizu hid her identity he would not be the one to revel her secret, she was keeping you safe.

"Well it will teach you to harass my daughter...now shall we drink to celebrate a wonderful year."

[mossfrg]

Jersey Gotham

Okay as someone born and raised in Jersey, I feel like we as a fandom are missing out on truly Jersey-ified Gotham. Like, c’mon, Jersey Girl Brucie Wayne??? So here I am to present a list of things I need more of because god damn it make Batfam— mostly Bruce, Jason, Tim, Steph, and Duke— Jersey (all based on my own personal experiences/real things that have happened to me):

Bruce cannot pump his own gas. He just. Doesn’t know how to. It’s not like a rich person thing, he just never learned cause he’s from fucking Jersey and never leaves Gotham. Jason didn’t know how and Talía lost her shit “How??? You are child superhero??? Who died and spontaneously came back??? But you can’t pump gas??” Tim kinda knows cause of Titans but again, he never really had to. (There’s a Twitter threaded dedicated to the Wayne family titled “is this rich or Jersey”). Steph and Duke can but they both pretend not too.

There have been fist fights over whether it’s pork roll or taylor ham. Jason and Bruce are very adamantly pork roll like the good Southern Jersey boys they are— it’s the one thing they can agree in most days— but Tim is taylor ham. Steph and Duke, despite being South Jersey, like to cause chaos and flip sides constantly. Dick, Damian, and Cass couldn’t care less.

The Absolute Hatred of New York/NYC. Doesn’t matter which kid it is, Bruce (and Alfred) got them all on board with this. Don’t even get them started on the Statue of Liberty; it’s a Wayne family tradition to try and buy it from NY because technically it’s more in NJ than NY and it’s closer too. They’ve yet to be successful but Bruce has hope for when it’s Damian’s turn.

And bc of this hatred of NYC comes the support of Philly!! None of them are super big sport fans, but they do cheer for Eagles, 76ers, and Union. Bruce, thanks to Alfred, is a big fan of soccer (“it’s football, master Bruce, I didn’t raise you in a barn”), and is a member of the Sons of Ben. He can be found in the River End of the stadium with Jason cheering for Union at pretty much every home game. There are multiple videos of Brucie Wayne and Jason Wayne screaming at refs, launching fireworks off the roof, and cursing out opposing teams’ players. Duke and Tim can be found 76ers games, while Steph frequents Eagles games.

Accents. Pls for the love of god give those boys (and Steph) accents. They are from New Fucking Jersey. They say “cawfee” and “tawlk.” They pronounce 0% of their t’s in the middle of words— kitten is ki’en, Trenton is tren’in. Jason and Steph drop letters when they gets pissed, Bruce slurs words, Duke and Tim drop passive-aggressive “y’all’s” to piss people off.

Driving. Now it’s not that they’re shit drivers, it’s that everyone else is a shit driver, and it’s not helped that majority of them learned to drive in the Batmobile. Steph has a loudspeaker on her car and frequently yells “fucking Pennsylvania turn your goddamn blinker on!” while driving. Bruce has a room in the manor dedicated to his speeding tickets. Tim as gotten into multiple fists fights at lights because people were driving slow in the fast lane. Jason is infamous for doing the Jersey Slide.

Jason, Tim, and Steph have gotten mugged before. They talked their way out of it and gave tips to the mugger. Bruce has kicked a rabid raccoon while walking home before because what else was he supposed to do? Duke has ordered a “pork roll egg and cheese on an everything” before in Not-Jersey and cried because they don’t have it. Several foreign benefactors of WE have asked for translators at meetings with Brucie cause Brucie’s accent is so thick and exaggerated. IN CONCLUSION: making Batfam (and gotham) Jersey is funny as hell and presents so many good opportunities. Make Batfam Jersey! (again these are all just my personal experiences, big state yada yada, different experiences, blah blah idgaf I jsut need batfam fist fighting over pork roll)

[lsunstreakerl]

I was re-reading Dad- I mean, GP- (love all your fics btw) and noticed a line about Max calling Christian Dad when he was high on painkillers after Silverstone. How did Christian react and do you think that Max even remembers it? Keep up the amazing writing!

okay, in my defense I think I mentioned somewhere that it wasn't soft or fluffy at all and I stand by that. here you go! (no, max doesn't remember it. christian will never tell him.)

Search History APOV, christian, set in the hospital room after Silverstone. 1.3k words <3

"Okay, out, out- clear the room, please."

Christian feels more like an usher than a team principal as he directs people out of the hospital room. Max deserves better than being treated like some kind of zoo animal.

Christian knows he's not supposed to get attached to his drivers, but-

He can't help it. They crawl into his heart, carving out their own little space.

Redbull's children. His children.

Seb, Daniel, Max.

Strong, proud, defiant Max. He looks tiny where he's unconscious in the hospital bed, and Christian's heart twists. He hasn't felt fear like that in long time, sitting on the pitwall, waiting for Max to come over the radio. It was the longest few seconds of his life, but what's haunting him-

Gianpiero, normally so collected and calm, a man Christian has never once seen agitated- his hand had gripped Christian's wrist so hard there are purpling bruises in the shape of his fingers. He's back with the team right now, but Christian knows he'll be on his way soon. If Max has carved a space into Christian's heart, he's taken up complete residence in GP's.

There's footsteps at the doorway, and Christian turns his head, meeting hard blue eyes with his own.

"Kind of you to finally show up, Jos."

Jos is frowning, the way he always is, but there's no fear in his eyes- he's not even looking at Max in the hospital bed. Christian has barely been able to take his eyes off of him.

"He should not have left without me."

Christian feels a muscle in his jaw twitch.

"He's a legal adult. We weren't exactly thinking about it when they airlifted him."

He can hear the strain in his voice, but he can't help it with Jos. It creeps out of him, makes it hard to think straight.

Jos sneers, finally looking at the bed. There's no sorrow on his face- just a complicated cocktail of emotions. He looks more disappointed than anything.

"He is fine, yes?"

Christian takes a deep breath, forces himself to stay civil.

"The medical team wants to take a deeper look at his brain, see if there's any damage hiding they might've missed. That kind of thing can get worse over time- we'd rather get ahead of it now."

Jos raises an eyebrow, and Christian continues.

"But otherwise, they just have him under observation at the moment. He's got a nasty concussion."

Jos hums, and the sound is so startlingly Max that Christian feels his gut churn.

"Skip the additional tests. They just want money. He has had concussions before, he knows how to handle them. I want him out sooner, not later."

Christian opens his mouth to protest, but Jos doesn't budge.

"I am his father, and his medical proxy."

Christian bites his tongue.

"I'll let the nurse know."

Jos looks back down at Max, and for a split second there's a flash of something across his face.

Christian isn't sure if it's guilt or rage.

"He will be fine."

It almost sounds like Jos is trying to convince himself. He turns back to Christian, and now he looks pissed off.

"I am going to handle media. The Dutch media, where they will not twist the situation. To behave that way, when a competitor is here- it is disrespectful. I will not stand for it."

A competitor. Jos disgusts him.

Max is supposed to be his son.

Jos leaves, and part of Christian feels a bit like he's just set a rabid dog loose on the press, frothing at the mouth. It's not out of a genuine care for Max though- it's about the way Lewis is behaving. Jos won't stand for it.

Normally Christian wouldn't either, but.

He's needed more here.

He settles in one of the armchairs with his laptop up. He has messages from GP, keeping him updated on the team meeting, and a personal message from John telling him the garage is chomping at the bit, furious and protective.

He's neck deep in emails when Max stirs a bit, eyes blinking open slowly. One pupil is larger than the other, and he seems like he's looking through Christian, rather than at him.

"Max?"

Max takes a shaky breath, and Christian is alarmed to see the way his eyes start watering.

"Papa-"

Oh shit.

Christian does not get paid enough for this. Really, he doesn't get paid enough for most of his Max related responsibilities, but especially not this.

He reaches an arm for Max's hand, intending to reassure him, but Max jerks away from him, eyes widening.

"No- no, I'm sorry, I did not-"

Max takes another breath as Christian backs up, bile in his throat.

"Max, hey it's okay-"

"I will- it will be better, next time, I won't- I won't slide, I'll make the turn, I'm sorry-"

Christian feels helpless at the way Max is pressed back into the bed away from him, eyes hazy with medication, blown from the concussion.

Redbull's children. His children.

He takes a breath and steps forward, pushes past the way his heart squeezes as Max tries to get away from him.

One of his hands lands gently on Max's shoulder, running up his back to settle in his hair. Christian leans down to wrap Max in a hug, gentle even as he's shaking in his arms.

"I'm- papa, I'm sorry."

Max says it desperate and panicked, like he knows the words won't do him any good.

Christian shushes him like he does his own children, even as his own heart twists. He's not supposed to get attached to his drivers.

Redbull's children. His children.

"It's okay, Max. You did a good job, and I'm glad you're okay."

Max chokes on a half sob.

"No, no I missed, I fucked it up-"

"Max, I don't care about that. I care that you're okay. That's what matters right now."

Christian lets Max cry it out, palm running up and down his spine as Max settles, finally nodding off against his shoulder.

Max is asleep, but-

Christian stays, holding him in his arms. Their golden boy. The garage is ready to go on a warpath, every single one of them. Max is fiercely loyal, but Christian is fairly confident he doesn't realize how devoted their loyalty is in return. He's theirs. To be crashed out, deep into the heart of Silverstone, to see the celebrations from Mercedes afterwards-

There's a vile, rabid taste in all of their mouths. They'll come back stronger, hit harder. They won't let him get away with it.

There's shuffling by the doorway, and Christian looks over as GP steps in. He looks haggard, still in his Redbull polo, jacket thrown hastily over his shoulders. He's pretty sure it's not even Gianpiero's jacket- normally he sees it across the back of Helmut's chair.

"How is he?"

GP settles on the other side of the bed, flipping through the paperwork from the table with one hand while the other rests over Max's.

Christian sighs.

"Concussed. They don't think there's any additional damage, but they wanted to do some extra testing to make sure. Jos said no."

"Cunt."

Christian raises an eyebrow. GP is normally much better about keeping his feelings internalized.

"Mhm."

"Sorry, Christian. I just-"

"I know."

Gianpiero helps Christian settle Max back against the bed.

"I'll stay with him if you need to leave."

Christian looks over at him, assessing.

"Do I need to leave?"

GP winces.

"I think the team needs some guidance. John is with them, but a more... direct reminder should probably be given. Maybe a reminder that sabotage and unsportsmanlike conduct won't do Max any good."

Christian snorts. He feels more like a babysitter than anything, but he understands where GP is coming from.

"I hear you. Message me if anything changes with him, okay? And- he was a little bit confused earlier."

GP nods, thumb brushing over the back of Max's hand.

"I will. Thank you for being here."

Christian gives him a thin smile.

Redbull's children. His children.

"All part of the job, isn't it?"

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"I SUPPOSE YOU WILL BE THE FIRST ONE"

Another story with Sergei, because... do I need to explain it?

I hope you like it!

Cristel woke up with a severe headache.

She tried to look around, but the pain was so strong that she felt dizzy trying. She felt a rope wrapping around her wrists and ankles around a normal chair. The smell of leather, sweat and dust filled the air.

She squirmed against the ropes trying to free herself. She didn't know where she was, in fact she didn't remember anything from the last 72 hours.

"You can keep trying as much as you want," said a voice interrupting her thoughts. "Believe me, they won't come loose."

Cristel looked around scared, trying to see where the voice came from.

"I don't know who you are, or what's going on," she murmured hastily. "There must have been a mistake…"

That's when she saw them, a pair of amber eyes emerged from the shadows in front of her, making her swallow hard. Her breath caught in her throat, and he could see her pulse quickening due to the tension she was feeling.

"Do you know what I think?" he questioned, looking at her firmly, his eyes now bright blue. "I think you know perfectly well who I am, just as you know what you're doing here."

He gave her the chance to speak, but she just watched him without saying a word.

"I have a list," he announced. "Your name is on it." He tilted his head. "It's not one of the highest, but it's no less important." He slowly slid a small knife between his fingers, before looking away at her again. "We can do this the easy way," he offered, surrounding her, as if he were cornering her against an imaginary cliff. "Or I can cut off a finger for every lie you tell." He shrugged. "You decide." Cristel made a move to speak, but he silenced her with a gesture of his hand.

-Ah, ah, ah, I'm the one asking the questions, dorogoy – he whispered firmly, his thick Russian accent echoing loudly in the space between them-

He stared at her, his blue eyes locked on hers, as he sat down on the chair in front of her. He ran the knife through his fingers with the dexterity that only someone like him could possess. Cristel watched the movement for a few moments, until he stopped dead.

-First question, and I want you to be completely honest – he asked, looking at his reflection in the blade before looking at her again – Where is it?

-Where is who? – he asked in a small voice, he brought the knife closer to her hand – I really don't know what you're talking about, please! – she squealed, feeling the tip of the weapon gently digging into her nail – please – she begged –

He pulled the knife away, which made Cristel's body relax a little against the chair. He held her chin between his index finger and middle finger, staring into her eyes. The girl felt like she could easily get lost in that blue that looked so similar to the sea.

He let go of her more gently than he intended, to rest both hands on her knees.

-You're telling the truth - he said, she nodded -

-I've been trying to tell you - he whispered - I don't know who the person you're looking for is, or what I have to do with all this - she admitted - I just want to go home

-I can't let you do it - he said - until we know for sure who you are and how you found me, you'll stay here, with me

-And where is here, exactly? - he asked, looking both ways -

-Russia - he answered, looking at her coldly - you don't need to know more

-Of course - he murmured, observing him with respect -

She didn't know who he was, but it was clear that he had power, great power, so it wasn't a good idea to piss him off.

-So -she probed- Will you tell me who you are?

He let out a low growl, like that of a rabid animal.

-I am The Hunter -he answered-

-It is not possible, The Hunter is a myth -Cristel countered- no one who has met him has lived to tell the tale

He gave a half-smile before answering:

-I suppose you will be the first one

NOTE: DOROGOY MEANS SWEETHEART IN RUSSIAN 😌