#LICK SALT FUCKERS!

[vethbrenatto]

500 Fucks, Freely Given

[pryllee]

Eating Out?

Blade x Fem! Reader

The title is self-explanatory, cunnilungus / fingering, slight degrading kink, interrupted at the end, reader is implied to have a date + kinda implied to be friends with some benefits...

A/N: Got inspo from an old fic, and old blog I made/had. Wanted to try making it kinda better though, this time with Blade cus his personality fits it juuuuust right... Might've not went the way I planned it, tho.

——

"Hey," He calls your name, "Are we eating outside this time?" asking a question, and you raise a thumbs up behind the couch in response.

"Was that a yes or a no? I can't tell what you're truly thinking if you dryly raise a gesture into the air without a word." He emphasized the word ’dryly’, with his brows slightly furrowing in annoyance as you continue to remain silent.

Reluctantly, he decided to walk closer to you to find out what you were so focused on that he didn't need to be in your sight.

"So, a yes?" He spoke again with a questioning voice, crossing his arms as he scanned your figure. Head down, staring at your phone mindlessly.

Suddenly, he let out a disgruntled sigh which finally peels your eyes off the screen thats been distracting you so much.

"Oh... Uhm. Sorry. Just get take out..." You spoke with a dejected voice, raising one of his brows.

"Sure, what should we...—" He stops in the middle of his hundredth question as he found you, once again, boring eyes into your phones screen, stuck in a DM with someone.

The last time he had replied was a few hours ago. When he accepted your proposal out to a cafe — a date.

Your train of thoughts were broken as you felt your legs being slowly spread apart, your skirt stretching slightly.

"Blade?" You voiced a concern, finding his head inbetween your thighs, planting a hand on one of them.

"Actually, I think I'd rather eating out today, no?" He pushes the hem of your skirt upwards, then plastering his mouth onto your clothed sex earning a little confused yelp from you, loosely holding onto his hair.

"So, what happened this time?"

He was used to this, actually. You were always suddenly ghosted by people you've matched with on a dating app.

"Hnn...— The usual..." You let out a shaky breathe, adrenaline coursing through your veins as he slid your panties down, discarding it somewhere near.

"Hm, is that so?" He pauses, slipping a finger inside, "Perhaps it's because of how lewd you are with your roommate." Adding salt to the wound, quite like him.

"God...— You're always, mngh.. The one that...!"

"That what?" He adds another finger, making it two. It's starting to bother you with how still he is.

You buck your hips slightly, hoping for some friction from his rough fingers.

He only watches you.

Eyes analyzing your embarrassed expression, you would try to close your legs for your dignity — but you can't, frankly. His upper half was stopping that from happening.

"C'mon. Show me how much you need it."

This fucker, hes amused. But somewhat, you can't help but feel more aroused in this situation. You grind your hips slightly against the couch, his fingers slowly curling inside.

You grit your teeth, curling your toes as you feel yourself nearing your climax. You try to speed your pace to feel the satisfaction — yet was left disappointed as he withdrew his fingers.

"Nnh...– Ugh, I worked too hard to get off from just your fingers just for you to do that." You pout slightly in frustration.

"Mmh, what a slut. I'll get to that in a second. Be patient." He licks a stripe up your folds, making you shudder back into the pillows. You clutch onto your slipping lips trying to stop a waterfall of moans.

"Aah... Ren" You spoke with a trembling voice, his name slipping out in bliss. Completely forgetting the disappointment he just caused you.

He pushes his tongue in, causing your back to arch euphorically.

Fuck, his tongue, you can feel it all too well—

You whine helplessly when his hand slides down your waist, opting to rub your clit in a circular motion as his tongue thrusted inside.

"Shit! Ren, 's so good–" You sob, clenching onto his hair harshly, putting him into a headlock position as you hang your legs over his shoulders.

Your stomach feels tingly. Your minds starting to fog up at the sensation of his mouth against your lips.

.

You breathe heavily, his forehead touching yours as he knees against the couch with him bucking his hips. Still loosely wrapping your arms around his head, legs being lifted up by him.

You suddenly hear a rhythmical knock on the door, luring out an irritated groan from him at the sound. Probably Kafka.

He reluctantly lets you go, resting on the couch on your side.

"Wait for me, won't you?"

——

[foldingfittedsheets]

Today my betrothed and I learned that those beautiful and majestic conch shells everyone admires have these fuckers inside them:

Now my betrothed is roleplaying as a conch by holding their index fingers up by their eyes and saying the most unhinged shit. When they started hitting on me as the shell I licked their eye finger.

They said, “Augh! This is wet in a way I’m not used to! Why is it so acidic?” Then slowly curled their finger eye up like a sad salted slug.

[hornyjorny]

𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮!

goro takemura x afab!reader. 18+, mdni plz, blowjob, top!takemura, sub!v, slight angst at the end?? also riding + creampie

“I need you, V. “

Fuck. 

He’s got you there. 

Goro-Fucking-Takemura, the cold and calculating ex-Arasaka operative, was a contradiction you couldn't ignore. Takemura represented fucking everything you possibly could’ve stood against— and now here you are— on your fucking knees, with Takemura towering above you, eyes furrowed shut as you tug away at his belt. 

How the fuck did you even get here? Shit, you just wanted to invite the poor fucker out to get hammered and just maybe, just maybe take a moment to relax from the city’s constant chaos. 

You’d made up your mind— and despite Johnny’s dissent, you mustered the courage to finally as the old fucker out for a night on the town. Afterall— he deserved it. You didn’t actually expect Takemura to say ‘yes’— but shit, you were thrilled. You ended up choosing a dimly-lit bar— and as you two sipped on your drinks, Takemura's rigid demeanor seemed to melt away, revealing a man who had been burdened by the weight of his past. 

And for once, Goro Takemura seemed content with the ways of the world.

As the evening continued to progress, the alcohol continuing flow, even fucking Johnny could sense the growing sexual tension simmering beneath the surface. With a sly grin and a fuzzy mind you suggested you two continue the night at your apartment, inviting him in for a night. Takemura hesitated, and his icy gaze locked onto yours. The unspoken tension hung heavy, and in a rare display of vulnerability, he nodded with a wolfish grin.  

And now here you are— gazing up at Takemura’s piercing icy eyes as you attempt to undo his belt, before chucking it to the floor below. He told you to kneel, so now here you are, perched between his knees like a bitch, following his every command. 

He’s so fucking cute, you swear it— his normally neat, pulled-back salt-and-pepper hair is now messy and frizzy. His cheeks are pink— and his pretty eyes immediately flutter shut when you tug down his pants, wasting no time in freeing his already hard member from his pants. 

Shit, does he take your breath away. He’s fucking perfect. 

You’re just barely able to wrap your hand around the base— he’s decently sized, not too big—just enough. He’s perfectly groomed, honestly just as expected, and his tip is already leaking against your hands. He sighs deeply for a brief moment— his fingers intertwining in your hair just for a moment— forcing you to look up into his cold stare. 

You say nothing. Your heart’s hammering in your chest as he just stares blankly, his lips slightly ajar, cheeks flushed pink. 

You finally muster the courage to place a kiss to his leaky tip, looking up into his piercing gaze. His pretty eyes flutter shut— and a soft groan exits his lips. Fuck, he’s cute. Before he can recover, you wrap your lips delicately around the head of his leaky cock. You can feel him shiver beneath you, his thighs shaking for just a moment. You lower yourself then, happily taking in more of him into your mouth before he hits the back of your throat. 

You swear you hear him faintly curse.

Your lips leave his cock with a lewd ‘pop!’ and a string of salvia connects your lips and his tip. 

Takemura groans deeply— the soft noises he makes just send waves of heated desire through your veins, which only fuels the fire that is your horny gonk-ass brain. Unable to help yourself,  your tongue retreats to him, licking up his shaft before placing a sloppy kiss to his leaky tip.

Goro looks down at you with such malice in his eyes— and it almost terrifies you as much as it excites you. Your lips continue to gently suckle at his reddened tip, before one of his large hands rises to hold your jaw, pulling you off of his cock by your hair with the other. He’s looming over you—his dark hair spilling over his shoulders as he glares down at you, icy eyes staring into yours. 

“Open.” 

His voice is hoarse— deep. And so you comply, you don’t think twice. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth upon his command. 

Goro’s left hand entangles itself roughly in your hair, using his other hand to guide himself into your mouth again, pulling a little weakened whimper from your lips as he pushes himself down your throat, slowly guiding himself in. Aww. At least he’s being nice. 

Drool smeared on your flustered cheeks, tears glittering among your lashes, and your lips trembled with each pant as you took him in when he breaches the back of your throat. His fingers tighten their grip on your scalp as he forces your head down until his girthy cock entirely inside of your pretty mouth. You look up at him—your jaw beginning to strain a little bit, and you blink up at him with widened teary eyes. 

For Takemura, there’s just something about seeing your cute face nuzzled all the way down on him, something about such a dangerous mercenary being such a fuckin’ compliant little toy for him. He loves it—whether he’d ever actually admit it aloud or not. 

“Good, V..”  he mumbles quietly, his nostrils flaring. 

You can’t help the quiet moan that escapes from your lips in response. You take him in again— feeling Takemura begin to shove you down, before he hits the back of your throat again. You pull back with a gag this time, your breathing heavy and spit dripping down your chin. 

Goro’s grip on your scalp tightens— before he pulls you down again on his cock, refusing to give you even a second. He guides his cockhead into your mouth, before bottoming out in the back of your throat. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

You whimper against his aching cock as he begins to thrust into your mouth, fucking himself slowly in and out. “Mprrrrrmmmphhhh…” you groan against him, and at this point, a few tears have started to fall from your fluttering lashes, because fuck, Takemura was relentless. His hips thrust with a slow pace, but fuck, are they harsh. His metal fingertips dig into your scalp— and his deep grunts and occasional whispered curse only encourage your own arousal. 

As he continues to use you, you notice his hips are beginning to falter— his thrusts become more erratic, more unfocused, and through your blurry teary eyes, you look up at him— noticing his head is tipped back as he softly groans to the ceiling. 

But fuck, you can’t take it anymore. The slickness dripping from your thighs tells no lie— you need to fuck this man like you need to breathe fucking air. His throbbing cock in your mouth just isn’t enough— you need him. 

“Gorrrooooo…” You whine, noises muffled by him pulling you down to his groin. Fuck, he can’t resist your little begs and moans. He chastises himself internally for giving in, and he pulls you off by your hair— allowing his cock to pop out of your mouth. 

“What?” He glares down— teeth bared, eyebrows furrowed. It makes you shudder. 

“Wanna ride you..” You moan, pressing his wet cock to your cheek— looking up into his icy eyes as you press a kiss to the tip. “..Please?”

He towers over you for a brief moment, eyeing your quivering form below. You just look so fucking cute, salivia dripping from your lips and chin, face red, hair messy, on your knees— fuck. It takes him all he has to muster a response.  

“Not yet.”

You whine— and you’re regretting being so obedient for a moment, before he reaches down. pulling you harshly by your wrists, before ripping off his loose tie. He wraps the fabric around your wrists— tightly securing them, before hoisting you to your feet. 

“Now you may.”

You can’t believe your fucking ears. You immediately clamber into Takemura’s lap— wrapping your restrained arms around his broad shoulders. He’s so warm— the scent of his cologne is subtle, but god it fucking drives you insane. Your eyes trace from the black and grey hairs among his lower stomach, to his chiseled chest, to his cybernetic jaw, his scarred lips open slightly ajar in a pant. You lean in— your saliva covered lips grazing his. He leans back, his hands immediately trailing slowly down your body to lift up your hips. 

“Now, V.” He commands, and you obey. You position yourself above his stiff member, before allowing your hips to sink down. He angles his hips— and presses just the tip of his pretty cock in, before bottoming out in one swift movement. 

You’re immediately taken out— reduced to a whiny, moaning mess when he’s fully inside of you, and he moans back. Takemura remains still as you situate yourself, attempting to bring yourself back together after his initial entrance. He oh-so graciously allows you to rest your head in the crook of his neck, even though the tough metal poked into your skin. 

When he’s had enough of your panting, tired of your cunt clenching so deliciously around him, his metal fingertips dig into the flesh of your hips as he begins to rock your hips back and forth on his length, guiding your ass. 

“Fuck, Goro…” 

You moan, head pressed to the metal plating of his neck. You whine at the sharp smack he gives your ass, the stinging sensation vibrating through your body as he urges you to speed up. 

You swear you’re not usually this compliant. 

You’re fucking V. A fucking dangerous merc— the toughest of them all. And now here you are— moaning and drooling over Goro Takemura. It’s fucking laughable, but you can’t find it in yourseld to possibly disrespect or disobey him. He makes your heart flutter— makes your thighs clench together whenever he shoots you a glare. The least he deserves, and the least you deserve, is to let him have his way.  

Your hips crash into his, and for just a moment, time seems to slow around you. It’s a surreal moment— reddened neon lights frame your bodies, Takemura’s hair is splayed across his shoulders and back, sweat dripping down his face as he groans so so deeply, his fingertips digging into your hips as you desperately grind on him… it’s fucking insane. The room is basked in a sultry deep red, and it’s all but silent except for the lewd sloppy sounds of your wetness, and the pitchy, embarrassingly high moans you let out. 

You’re just bouncing on his length— he’s stuffing you full, and you just moan and whimper softly. You feel almost dizzy— your mind is fuzzy as he fucks himself into your tight hole with no remorse, and the stretch he made just felt so fucking good, you swear your brain’s on fucking fire. 

“You can take it, V.” He rasps, his hips ramming into yours. You’re beginning to lose the little strength you have left in your hips— he’s just too fucking good. Each hit comes to you like a shockwave— your mind beginning to simply malfunction from the pleasure alone. 

“I—ah—need..m-more..”

You whine, your tied hands still wrapped around his neck. He complies with a wolfish grin— using his right hand to reach up and cup your jaw. 

“More?” He repeats, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he forces you to meet his gaze. You nod as his icy eyes glare maliciously into yours. He’s fucking intimidating— he’s going buck-fucking-wild, his hips hammering up into yours as his fingernails leave scratches and red cresent-shaped marks, leaning foward to kiss your neck and collarbone to leave a masterpiece of blue and purple splotches. Who knew Goro Takemura could be so fucking dirty?

You can’t take it any more. You nod. The sounds of your sweet whines and moans for more echo off of the apartment walls, and Takemura lets out a little “s—shit” as he hits deeper, and the tight band building within your tummy is ready to snap at any moment. You’re truly just dumbfounded by him— dumbfounded by the sheer amount of pleasure and satisfaction he’s able to provide. 

Takemura can feel every fucking squeeze, every little defeated moan that reverberates throughout your body as he presses his lips to yours. It drives him insane— he’s needed reprise for so long. He’s needed this, needed you, just somebody— for so fucking long. 

And for in this moment, he wants for that to last. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your skull when Takemura angles his hips particularly deep, and you nearly allow yourself to just fall limp in his arms as he fucks you through your stupor. The way you pant against his skin, drool starting to fall from your lips, it drives him insane. 

He uses his strength to hold you down on his cock as he buries himself deep inside, an occasional whimper escaping his scarred lips. And every time he does, it’s like music to your ears— causing you to clench even tighter around his girthy length. You feel completely full as his spit-glazed cock tenderly rubs against your walls, hitting and jostling against the best and deepest of spots. 

The thick head of his tip rubs so deliciously against your insides, you can’t help but to drool and whine. You try to place little kisses along his metal plating, up to his cheek— purely unable to help yourself. 

“Goro, m’ close..”

You’re barely able to utter the words, and he stares up at you with his icy eyes as your hips continue to crash and roll into his. A little semblance of a smile escapes him, and his fingers entangle themselves in your hair once more as his other hand guides your waist.

“I know.”

Your mouth falls ajar at his words, soft “ah-ah-ahs” escaping your saliva-covered lips as you gush onto his lap. His hips continue hammering into yours, his cock beginning to throb inside of your pulsating wals. The sound of your sopping cunt echoes of the apartment walls, along with your weakened high-pitched moans and his deep grunts. He almost loses his cool when your tight cunt seals around his cock when you cum, but he refuses to slow the battering of his hips against yours. 

“I’m not done yet.”

Jesus fucking christ, did this old man have some fucking stamina. More than you, apparently. 

It’s easy for him to lower you to the bed, his nimble form sliding over yours, towering over you once again. His hands reach for your ankles, pulling your legs over his shoulders as your slick and remnants of your own cum continue to drip onto the sheets below. 

Takemura’s cock twitched, and with a deep groan he came inside. He had shoved his cock inside of you so deep, letting it press against your cervix before his cum spurted out, thick, warm, and milky. 

You look down at your swollen puffy lips enduring his abuse before he ultimately slows and finally hunches over you— a loud moan escaping his lips as his cock pulsates and throbs inside of your walls, finally letting you have it all, filling your cunt with hot and creamy cum. 

“Thank you..” You sob, remnants of your makeup sliding down your tears in blackened streaks as he continues to dump his load inside. 

He finally collapses then—his body weight was pressed against yours, making sure to keep your pretty ass filled. Ever so delicately, Goro, he rolled his hips against yours as he came down from his high, his breathing was heavy and so was yours.  

Your brain practically short-circuited, all you could possibly think about was him. Goro, Goro, Goro. Everything about him drove you fucking insane. 

Takemura finally pulled out, his eyes tethered to your stomach bulge, gaze lowering to your oozing cunt, just observing his seed dripping down from your tiny abused hole, dripping down to the curve of her beautiful ass. Fuck, he swore you looked so fucking cute; all naked, tears down her face as you whimpered and whined still. Goro pulled back from your trembling body, his gaze still on your sopping cunt, with two fingers he pushed his cum back inside before shoving himself back inside his pants, buckling his belt. 

As you flop over, he swiftly removes his tie from your wrists, before slipping it back around his neck. You’re too fucked-dumb to think— you just lay on your side panting, completely taken aback at the situation. 

“L-Leaving so.. hah… soon?” You hiccup. 

The shadow of a man says nothing. He straightens out his collar and tie, before bringing his hair back in one swift movement. You lay there, just staring back at the handsome man in front of you. 

He leans down, his cold, icy eyes just inches away from your own. 

“This is just business, V.” 

He turns away, adjusting himself as he immediately exits your apartment. 

It was immediately what you expected. 

He wasn’t obligated to stay. You knew he would immediately leave afterwards. 

But you’ll be damned, it still hurt. 

You expected it, and yet your heart still ached when he shut the pneumatic door with a swipe of his thumb— leaving your body alone in the dimly lit red room. 

But that’s just business, baby.

[inkformyblood]

into the belly of the beast (Ghost x Konig, MerMay 2024)

Pirate Ghost x Mer Konig

The lower decks of the ship are the closest to its innards; dark and damp, something scuttling just beyond the weak light cast by Simon’s lantern. He lifts it higher all the same, some old fear twisting in the pit of his stomach as the hair on the nape of his neck prickles, trying desperately to rise against the rough knot of his bandana. It’s grown too long while he hadn’t been paying attention, falling in a sprawl of tangled curls across his forehead and creeping down over his ears. He had caught a glance of his reflection earlier, his eyes blackened by ash and soot, his mouth curled into a snarl, every bit the monster the crew expected him to be and he’d only thought how much he looked like his mother. 

Simon will cut his hair later.

Yet another fucking thing for him to do, responsibilities pilled on top of each other until his bones creak and complain like the ship he is picking his way through. His boot punctures the rotten wood of a broken support and he catches himself roughly on another, his lantern swinging wide and plunging him into darkness. Pain spikes across his palm, the sharp bright agony of a surface cut instead of the slow burning pulse of a shard of wood lodged beneath the skin.

In the dark beneath the ship, swallowed whole by the same beast he’s devoted his life to, Simon blinks, his breath loud in his ears. 

The air hangs heavy, copper-soaked and stale like he’s cut his teeth on a penny plucked from the ocean’s sagging tits. Something moves closer in the dark, could be from his left or behind him, everything too loud and not loud enough, and Simon bares his teeth at the intruder. He’ll rip their throat out before he lets any fucker drag him above deck again, he’s done fighting for Roba but he is not quite finished being Ghost, terror of the seas, just yet. Just needs to get off this fucking ship in mostly one piece and he can haul his sorry carcass onto another, work his way up that way. Handful of years choking on his pride, bloodying his hands all over again, in exchange for his freedom.

Simon presses his hand to his mouth, licking over the cut on his palm. Even his blood doesn’t taste right in these depths, too much salt for it to even sting, burrowing straight to the bone and making sure nothing would ever grow there. He steps forward, sliding his boot across the uneven ground. No time for hanging about with his fingers in his mouth like he’s a child too scared to creep out of his room to piss. 

It takes longer than he would like when Simon stumbles into the main room in the belly of the ship. It is the light he notices first, tiny flecks spiralling across his field of vision, larger dappled sections splashed up over the walls and the ceiling, the floor mostly gone to expose the deep dark water beneath. One of the walls moves.

Simon drags the heel of his uninjured palm against his eye, squinting at the pale light. He must be going mad, too long spent wandering in the dark searching for something he only half-believes exists. He is a dead man either way, strung up against the masthead until his flesh rots from his bones or lost wandering in the dark until he breaks something vital, bleeding out for long enough that something would draw close and feast on him. 

Why not go looking for a mermaid?

It had only been a rumour when Ghost had first heard it, a whisper over a puddle of spilled beer and sick in some no-name brothel he can barely remember. There had been a girl tucked at his side, murmuring information into his ear as she pressed sweet-scented kisses into his curls, brave enough for the task but her hands never strayed onto the spread of his thigh or away from his shoulder where he’d placed her hold. Clever girl too. His attention had been torn between her — close enough to slide a knife into the delicate hollow of her throat, closer than he’d been to another living body in weeks that he hadn’t been trying to kill — and the pair across from them, drunk past the point of sensibility and somehow, still talking. 

“I saw it,” one of them insisted, leaning on his companion more than the table he’s aiming for, his bottle knocked over next to his elbow. “Some huge fucking monster in the belly of the ship, it was a mermaid, I’m telling you. ‘S how the ship moves when the wind abandons us.” Beer soaked into his sleeve as he leaned back, waving his other arm wildly and Ghost’s attention drifted to more important matters. 

Even so, he can barely believe what he is seeing. 

The mermaid lifts their head where it had been resting on their crossed arms, settling their chin in the same place as they stare up at Simon. Their eyes glow, the same flickering luminosity as the markings flickering over their flank, a pale circle catching the chain looped around Simon’s neck before it falls to his feet. They are chained as well, the metal softly clinking together as the ship sways. The chain is heavy links, rusted with age and keeping the mermaid tethered to this spot with the wide cuff locked around their neck. 

“Would you like to be free?” Simon asks, his voice barely louder than a whisper. It has been half a lifetime since he’d been in a church but he can remember it feeling something like this, a heavy oppressive judgement folded over his scalp like a hand pressing him to his knees. He crouches carefully, pressing his palm to damp wood and keeping his injured hand curled close to his chest. 

The pale gleam of the mermaid’s eyes flicker to his face and Simon thinks that this is what it would be like to be consumed, the final glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel before everything is dark. 

“Yes.”

Simon breathes in, salt layered thick over his tongue. “If I free you, can you take me away from here? Don’t care if you drown me but I won’t die here.”

“Yes.”

“Got a name?”

The mermaid leans forward as much as they can, one huge hand stretching out across the scant space towards Simon. The webbing between their fingers is thick, pitted with scars. A claw curls beneath Simon’s chin, drawing his face upwards. He swallows, his throat pressing against the intrusion.

“König.” The mermaid releases Simon, their hand falling back to the deck before the mermaid takes hold of the chain, pulling on it once. The ship sways, Simon bracing himself against the floor. “You free me and I’ll take you away.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Simon stands carefully, his knees weak and hope, broken and bloody but still alive even after everything. “I’ll get to work.” 

[matt-imagines-popcorn]

Wrote these a few weeks ago - just silly little HCs :P

Glass Joe/Aran Ryan [Burnt Bread] Headcanons

Aran, as we all perhaps know - is a gross fucker. No one is safe from his grossness - even Joe, his beloved lover. Sure he might not face it as much as the others do but the few times Aran decides to be nasty toward Joe, it seems nastier then he's willing to give out to the other v̶i̶c̶t̶i̶m̶s̶ boxers. Licking his face, forcing his finger upon his nose after he scratches his ass, threatening to pee on him while showering together (and has - Joe proceed to waterboard Aran), - everything he does just pisses the hell out of Joe.

Don't think it's unsurprising to say that Joe knows a thing or two about bandaging up injuries of any kind (Spending a few years being essentially a punching bag does that!) and isn't afraid to jump in and help some of his fellow boxers out - Aran being very much included in that list. It was hard to get used to but over time Aran grew to love the attention on him. Usually ends up steamy if neither of them aren't too beat up.

Aran is the self proclaimed leader of the Glass Joe fan club, much to the dismay of the clubs founder: Gabby Jay.

Arans immune system is strong as fuck, so when he gets sick, he gets sick bad. The best way to describe it is like watching a bedridden Victorian child. He acts like a big baby about it too, wanting nothing but to be babied. Joe will indulge him for a short while (ignoring the sick man's poor attempts at trying to get physical) till later it becomes apparent that Aran is feeling better and is just playing it up for show.

Now, Joe loves Aran but he willing to fuck him over in this regard. Giving him a full cup of ice with no water, giving him medicine that's actually just sour candy (that one did backfire though as Aran is a sour head), and worst of all, ignoring all temps at Aran trying to kiss him.

Doesn't even take an hour before Aran's suddenly feeling better.

Aran's sisters like Joe, perhaps more so than they actually like Aran. Molly (the youngest sister) probably likes him the best though: Joe has a tendency to spoil the hell out of her with treats and clothes and fun events whenever she visits. Usually, somehow it bites Aran in the ass later but he's willing to deal with anything as long as those two got along.

Can't say the same about Joe's family. Yeah apparently beating someone to a bloody plum and going on to shagging their cousin isn't exactly the greatest way to be familiar with family. Though so far, it's only Jay who seems to have a hatred towards the man. Joe's mom and aunt love Aran and think he's hilarious.

Surprisingly, Aran is the early bird in the relationship, not Joe. He wakes exactly at seven every day (for better or worse) and is usually the one forcing Joe out of bed. Sometimes the smell of his cooking is enough to wake him up but most days Aran just picks him up and throws him back on the bed over and over till he's awake.

On the subject of cooking: Joe can't cook for the life of him. Not because of a lack of skill, but instead horrific luck. Forgetting to set the timer off, mixing in salt instead of sugar (or vice versa), burning his hand - anything that could possibly go wrong will. Aran however has both the luck and skill for cooking and is good at it. He's almost offended when Joe admits he thought he was going to be a bad cook - His mom owns a bar for crying out loud of course he knows how to make a decent meal!

[gintrinsic-writing]

Whumptober 23: "Hold Them Down"

Woke up late and spontaneously decided to write something for today's whumptober prompt. Computer stopped working halfway through which was so awesome. I'll edit this a lot before posting to AO3 lol.

Has anyone seen the movie The Ruins before? 😉 CW body horror

--

Blinking did little to clear the sweat from Wind’s stinging eyes, nor did it help the way the landscape seemed slightly… off-kilter. Like he was walking at a lean or listing sideways when, in reality, he was dutifully following the others step for step for fucking step. What was this place? At least Fire Mountain had been a dry sort of heat. This was like marching through a sauna. If Wind became the first hero to ever die from heat stroke, he’d never forgive himself. 

“Fuckin’ absurd,” he muttered, stopping near a very large plant, its swooping green leaves nearly half his size. Every breath felt too thick, too humid, sticking to the back of his throat. He scratched his leg and swatted at the air with his other hand. Mosquitoes hovered around every pool of water, a constant, annoying buzz. Wind didn’t recognize any of the flora in this part of the world—Wild’s world? Hyrule’s?—but he decided, at that moment, that it was bad. Just fuckin’ terrible. The worst. 

“Wind?” Sky looked back at him, face flushed and shirt positively soaked with sweat. The others stood behind him looking hardly any better. “Why’d you stop?”

Black spots filled the corners of Wind’s periphery. He worried that might be a bad sign, but that was a problem for his future self. Possibly his five-minutes later self, but the others didn’t need to know that. “I’m tired.”

“It’s only a little further,” Hyrule told him. “Once we pass the river, it’ll only be another mile or two.”

Ah, so it was Hyrule’s world. Wind opened his mouth to say something—something scathing and witty, probably, because he wouldn’t profess to whining, when a muscle in his leg spasmed. He scratched it, which did absolutely fuck-all to help. 

“I can carry you,” Warriors suggested, hiding his amusement so well that Wind knew he was probably close to smirking. Maybe. Sometimes the Captain was just nice. Hard to say if this was one of those times. 

“Fuck off,” Wind grumbled, too tired to put any heart into it. A small cloud of gnats formed by his head, each of the little fuckers gunning for the moisture in his eyes. Swatting at them did little to dissuade them. “And quit staring at me, all of you,” he said, reaching for his waterskin as he trudged forward.  “Not my fault that…”

The world tilted, then Wind did, too. He hadn’t planned on that. 

Thankfully, one of the others was quick enough to catch him before he could embarrass himself further by hitting his head on a rock or something. It took a lot of blinking before he could make out Twilight’s face. “Nice save,” he said, and was completely ignored. Twilight slowly lowered him to the ground so the others could begin the annoying process of being worried. 

“Pulse is strong,” Time muttered, fingers held over Wind’s wrist. “But he’s burning up.”

“Heat stroke?” Legend asked, which made Wind groan loudly. Of course, then they looked even more concerned, so he regretted it immediately. 

Twilight’s ears twitched back and forth as he leaned in to sniff at Wind. “You smell funny.”

“You kiddin’ me, dog breath?” Wind sniped, ineffectively pushing at Twilight’s stupid face. His tongue felt heavy and awkward in his mouth. “S’disgusting out here. We all smell bad.”

“No, I mean…” Twilight’s nose wrinkled. “You smell sweet, almost? Like a flower. It’s strange.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m roses compared to some of you.”

Hyrule literally shouldered Wild aside to get closer. Wind would’ve laughed under any other circumstance. “A flower? What kind?”

“Uh,” Twilight began, eloquent as ever. “No idea.”

“We landed nowhere near the salt fields, but…” Hyrule licked his lips. “Wind, are you injured anywhere? Anywhere at all?”

Wind frowned as he thought about it. “I have a scrape on my leg. It’s small, barely even—” He made a sound of surprise as Hyrule started tugging off his pants. “Hey, rude! What the fuck, man!”

“Get them off,” Hyrule told Twilight. “Now. Hurry.”

Twilight hesitated only a moment before helping, and Wind gritted his teeth as the others looked on with varying levels of surprise and confusion. “Thanks for the…” He blew out his cheeks as his vision darkened briefly. “For the manhandling. Love this. Really role-model behavior.” 

Hyrule tossed Wind’s pants away like they were personally offensive, already studying the thin scab halfway between Wind’s knee and hip. The skin around it was a little red, but there wasn’t any discharge so Wind didn’t understand the fuss. Hyrule prodded at it gently. “Any tingling or itching? Numbness?”

“Itching,” Wind answered. “Damn mosquitoes probably got me through my pants. What’s all this about?”

“Maybe nothing,” Hyrule answered unhelpfully, but the intensity in his expression was nerve wracking. He pressed on Wind’s leg, waited several seconds, then pressed again. 

“Seriously,” Wind said, trying not to slur. Hells, he felt weird. “You’re beginning to freak me out.”

Instead of answering, Hyrule dug his thumbs into Wind’s hip and applied pressure down the length of the muscle. A weird prickling sensation broke out across Wind’s entire leg, painful and hot. Then, like a worm being flushed to the surface, something visibly wriggled beneath Wind’s skin.   

“Holy shit,” Wind gasped, fighting the urge to strike his own leg. The others mirrored his shock. “What is that? What is that?” 

Hyrule’s face paled. “It’s a vine,” he answered, signing a quick prayer for protection. That, more than anything, filled Wind with terror. But that wasn’t the worst of it. “Somebody, sterilize a blade. We have to act quickly. Wind, have you been itching anywhere else?”

“N-no, but what’s—”

“When did it start?” Hyrule interrupted. “When did you first notice?”

Wind blinked, taken aback. “This morning?”

“Fuck,” Hyrule snapped, and Wind wondered if he was the only one shocked by that. “It’s a Mimic Vine—an evolved strain of the Deku Babas the rest of you are used to. It’s carnivorous and if it—if it enters your bloodstream…”

Wind thought his heart might beat out of his chest. He swallowed thickly, unable to look away as the vine writhed beneath his skin. He swore he could feel it burrowing deeper. Behind him, Legend began using his firerod to heat one of Four’s knives. 

“You’re sure about this?” Warriors asked quietly, expression chillingly blank.

Hyrule nodded. “Yes, I’ve seen this before. I don’t know how it spread past the salt fields, but…” His eyes darted to the underbrush, to the canopy—wary in a way he hadn’t been before. “I need you to cut it out. It’s smart; it’ll try to move away from you. If I don’t heal him as you work, he’ll bleed out. I’ve seen it happen before.” 

“Guys,” Wind began weakly, fighting the urge to flee. As if sensing this, Twilight’s grip on his shoulders tightened. 

“I’m sorry, Wind,” Hyrule told him earnestly. “But there’s no time to make this any easier. You can bite down on my wallet. Warriors, you have to be extremely careful when you pull on it; if even a single piece is left behind, it will grow and self-replicate in a matter of hours.” Hyrule took a deep breath, grim and determined. He stared only at Wind’s leg when he finally murmured, “The rest of you… hold him down.”

[sheep33hallow]

SlapStick Skeleton (Wincest)

Dean's cheek, pressed into the cold wall. A corner of the hallway he walked past before Sam redirected him, face first into it.

Sammy. 

Sam. 

His little brother was working the front of his belt open. He chose to stay silent. The only sounds he could hear was his brother's ragged breath behind him. 

The children were close by. Allie in her room. Nicolas in the kitchen. 

He could forget parenthood for a moment. 

"Dean." His brother groaned behind him. The belt unlooped. The zipper sliding all the way down, Sam cupping his cock, still clothed, to rest on top of the opening of his jeans. Sam massaged him. 

That fucker. 

Sam's other hand slid against his mouth. Dean opened wide, tasting the salt of sweat. Sam was outside in the yard, playing soccer with Nicolas. He was napping, and woke up to go fix lunch before he became trapped. 

So he tasted. Sam pressing his fingers along his tongue. Drool collecting in his mouth. He tried his best to swallow. His finger scraped the top of his mouth, causing him to cough, which made his cock jump. 

"That's it." Sam said. Keeping mouth away from Dean. Dean likes the feeling of his breath tickling his ear. Telling him what a good brother he was. 

The hands would make due. 

Sam still hadn't made skin contact. His balls continued to be fondled with. Growing taunt with need. The texture of his boxer, a size too small as Sam's requested, was teasing him as much as his brother was. 

Dean coughed once more. Sam pressed his thumb on the outside of the cheek, to his middle finger on the inside of Dean's mouth, and pinched. 

Dean hears the steps begin to creek behind them. 

"Nicolas, can you go start the laundry, and feed the fish?" Sam called out. 

The steps receded. "Yeah, Dad." 

"Shhh." Sam whispered. "You're starting to make a mess of your shirt, and I'm seeing a wet spot on the floor." 

Dean couldn't look down to check if it was true. Sam had him trained to not look elsewhere whenever they engaged. His eyes were closed, lids pressed to a wall. 

A wall that needed to be repainted, honestly. The years of abuse this home had from sheltering his family was starting to show. 

"Do you want to lick it up?" Sam pinched harder. "You hate when the kids make messes. Be an example." He cooed. The smile is evident in his tone. 

Dean shook his head. His cheek was being pulled to the side. Sam came closer. Mouth to ear, on the opposite side of his hand abusing him. "Then how are we going to clean this up?" 

Dean shrugged. 

Sam laughed. 

"We're Winchesters." He said. Removing his hand from his brother's mouth. Sam's wet hand moved behind him. Over his ass, between his asscheeks, and pressing into the rim. "Let's make a mess worth sweeping under the rug." 

It was through the humming of the washing machine starting up, that Dean remembered all the other rugs covering their messes were in the laundry room. 

[abladeofgrass]

Ashton playlist be upon ye

(Picture is mostly a placeholder until I make some real ashton art)

[finncakes]

Tell us about your favorite ashrym moments? Not sure if you've seen 38, but any thoughts on those? Orym finally giving Ashton the flowers they were clearly angling for from him?

💜

it's pretty hard to pinpoint just one moment in particular. i like their general vibe an attitude with eachother! i do like to believe that when ashton yelled "lick salt fucker!" to the shade mother and liam lost his shit over it that orym did too. seems to line up with his sense of humor. plus i think it's cute.

i am fully caught up! no longer listening to podcast episodes and watching live cause i'm hyperfixating big time on cr rn. ep 38 was great and i am so so glad laudna is back (esp cause i have a very personal sorta connection to her! she reminds me of myself a lot and her dealing and working through her trauma is really comforting and helping me through mine despite the relapse haha). but rest assured i am going insane over those moments...they mean the world to me my leetle tanks.

also a lil unsure what the last question is...could you clarify?? i might've missed smth last episode while waiting for my bus home ;3;

[baphometed]

❝     don’t tell me cyrus sent you t’ get me. i told him i wasn’t doin’ any more odd jobs for him.       ❞          he’d seen her talking with cyrus before and he’d never forget her face. it was almost instinct to try and avoid being around her but rather than run he was gonna face this head on.         ❝    after that fuckin insane book he made me go get for him, fucker can lick salt.       ❞       @vibraea​

[fandomtrxsh19]

Roxy: *at an annoying guest* Lick salt, fucker!

[savethepinecones]

every once in a while ill send a tumblr post to my roomies and every time it formats so that ops blog title shows up. shoutout to the link i just sent them that includes the phrase "lick salt, fucker" with zero context

[mangoposts]

https://www.tumblr.com/mangoposts/749397205829484544/im-so-fucked-my-cat-just-broke-my-fucking-wall

fucker knocked over the salt lamp lmfaoo. he also threw up because he kept on sniffing and licking it after he knocked it over even tho i told him that was a goofy idea bc it’s a SALT lamp dumb hoe. i made a tiktok about it mid panic attack yesterday 😭😭😭

LMAOOOOOOO LEMME WATCH IT

[lionews]

leave me ALONE, pango. i’m assuming this is you.

you literally cannot be onto me for not being friends with charles anymore. obviously im going to cut him off after i was shown proof of certain things (which, once again, i’m not sharing because a fucking salt blog doesn’t need my dirty laundry)

let’s not forget how you were bouncing all over charles’ dick just the other month? and you used to lick the boots of serval & jester as well, right? you cannot act high and mighty in this situation.

ID dropping me and a friend who want nothing to do with this shit is fucking stupid. grow up and pull the stick out of your ass and leave us alone. we have dome nothing to you. i have done nothing to you. it does not make me a bad person to cut off charles because of information presented by kai. i am not involved in this situation. i would’ve been involving myself if i shared why charles cut me off, but i DIDN’T. my only involvement is explaining, “hey, i’m not friends with charles, please don’t drag me into this drama”.

this is not something that i want to be involved in. this is something ive done literally nothing in. stop trying to fucking cancel me over WHO i got information from. ID dropping me is an immature move. what does ID dropping get you? do you want people to go harass me? what plus side is there to it? i’m the only fucker named tycho on site. if anyone wanted to block me; it takes 3 seconds to find my account.

fuck you, seriously. this is not my drama. stop roping me into shit because you’re petty.

tycho

.

[starship-squalleater]

I could never own one of those pink crystal salt thingies bc you KNOW I'd be licking that fucker like I was a deer on a nature show and David Attieborrow is saying SHE APPROACHES THE CLEARING CAREFULLY, WILLING TO RISK THE OPEN DANGER FOR HER PRIZE. UNBEKNOWNST TO HER, SHE IS NOT THE ONLY CREATURE IN NEED OF NUTRIENTS and then a wolf eats me