#SHOVELS THIS INTO MY MOUTH AT LIGHT SPEED

[xamaxenta]

someone wonders what sexy biker butch ace sees in a dry boring doctor like marco until you see marco roll up after a shift with messy hair and a gravelly voice on her big rumbling motorcycle (aces sexual awakening was marco teaching her to ride a bike at pops garage, marcos arms bracketing hers on the handlebars and ace is a big girl she got big ass shoulders but she feels Small boxed in by marco like that. boobs pressed against her back soft hair brushing her cheek low raspy voice in her ear saying Yeah Thats It, Give It A Little More Gas, one hand over aces on the accelerator What Are You Waiting For, Baby, Rev It Up the engine roars underneath them and ace feels like shes gonna cum in her pants right there .trying very hard not to make it too obvious (its obvious) marco chuckles. Feels Good, Yeah? ace leaves a wet smear on the leather seats.) and then you see the good doctor marco grab this metal studded leather wearing beastly butch, grips her by the face and shoves her tongue so far down her throat ace whimpers

got carried away with the marco part but i believe in equality SOOOO

sabo/ace doesnt make sense to anyone until you see sabo fighting dirty and playing dirty, shes got usbs of covert info tucked into her bra cups and a camera hidden under the drape of her dress, enough she just has to lift a leg and lets the split up the thigh spill open, drags a finger down and clicks a photo and no one is paying enough attention to anything other than her red lips and pretty blue eyes and that looooooong long leg.. ace picks her up in an alleyway on her bike as sabo walks out twirling her heels splattered in blood, lipstick smeared and shiny blonde hair clearly ripped at in a fight, bottom half of her dress torn clean off to give her better mobility and access to the messy knives strapped up and down her bloody, sticky, torn stocking thighs and she says Hey Handsome, Can I Get A Ride? and ace, no self preservation, ABSOLUTELY takes her home and fucks her against the counter till the neighbors send noise complaints

w-who are you???

genuinely im speechless wh

Where do i even start marco showing Ace how to handle a big gas guzzler motorcycle

Or that Ace is a big girl with those shoulders HELP IM YELLIN HOOTIN HOLLERIN

Or Sabo calling butch Ace handsome

This is overloading my brain i cant function

[belosposting]

circe clawthrone au scribbles, au is by @sporesgalaxy​

philip wittebane enters the boiling isles in a more noncanon and less murdery way

[moonstruckme]

Apple pie with spencer read and qn airport terminal qt midnight

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of bad eating habits, mentioned unease around germs

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 729 words

“Spence.” Your voice is soft, your fingers combing through his hair even softer. Spencer’s head rests heavy on your shoulder. You shield his eyes from the harsh lights with a hand, hoping to rouse him gently. “Honey, wake up.” 

Spencer’s eyebrows furrow. Or, one does, the other already squished towards furrowing by the way it’s laying on your shoulder. You hate to wake him—Spencer tends to have a hard time relaxing at airports, what with all the germs—but your window to get something to eat is closing. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” you ask him, coaxing. 

“No,” he mumbles, but he’s blinking awake, looking up at you with soft, sleepy brown eyes. “Are you?”

You give him a sheepish smile. “A little. Sorry, do you mind if I get up to go look for something? Everything’s closing.” 

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I almost made you miss dinner.” Spencer sits up, stretching his neck. He pushes his shoulders back lazily, and you can hear his bones crackle. “I’ll go with you.”  

You protest half-heartedly but ultimately capitulate, picking up the heavy backpack before he can and leaving your boyfriend to tow the suitcase. At this time the airport is near empty, the only people to be seen the sad band of vagabonds sitting at your gate waiting for your plane to arrive. You’ve been delayed two hours by the weather. Spencer will have to wake up four hours from when you get home to go to work, you only a half hour later.

You realize as you walk that you may be too late. While the websites you’d checked had said their airport locations would be open until midnight, the employees are already cleaning out machines, wiping down counters, pulling metal gates closed over their entrances. 

Spencer makes a worried oh sound, realizing the same thing.

“There’s an Auntie Anne’s down there,” you say hopefully, starting to walk faster in case they’re closing, too. That glowing yellow sign is your light at the end of the tunnel.

Spencer speeds up with you, but protests, “A pretzel isn’t a meal, sweetheart.” 

“It might be my only option,” you point out. “Also, I saw you eat a bag of salt and vinegar chips for dinner last week. You don’t get to talk.” 

You hear a soft, slightly petulant huff behind you. You might give him shit for it if you weren’t in a rush. 

You try to order as quickly as possible, feeling guilty for making the employee serve you just before close. But then the cup is in your hand, warm and smelling of cinnamon, and you think you probably would have vaulted the counter to get it yourself had she refused you. It’s heavenly. 

You wait until you get back to the gate to start eating, wanting to savor every bite. When you do, you have to close your eyes, forcibly smothering a moan. They’re everything you wanted and more. You shovel them into your mouth faster than is probably safe and definitely faster than anyone’s mother would approve of, and it’s not until you’re more than halfway done that you notice Spencer’s stare.

You give him a wry look. “So now you’re hungry?” 

“What?” He looks startled. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re practically drooling.” 

“No, I’m not,” he says, though you notice him tighten his lips as though checking to be sure. 

You sigh, holding them out to him. “It’s okay. Have some.” 

“No.” Spencer frowns with his eyebrows. “They’re yours.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you say, more genuinely this time. “I’d hate for you to miss out. They’re really good.” 

He can only resist temptation for so long. He takes one, and his reaction is nearly the same as yours had been, expression going soft at the perfect, delicious warmth of them. 

“In exchange,” you suggest as he reaches for more, “can I take a turn napping on your shoulder for a while?” 

“Yeah, of course,” says Spencer, managing to sound smitten even though a mouthful of cinnamon pretzel bites. He settles back in his chair, trying to give you as comfortable a pillow as possible. 

“Thanks.” You sigh through your nose as you lay your head down, pulling your legs up onto the chair with you and closing your eyes. “I can’t believe we have to go to work tomorrow morning.” 

“This morning,” Spencer corrects you. 

You groan. 

[rboooks]

DC X DP fic: Legal Compensation

Bruce Wayne doesn't know what sick monster would think it is funny to ruin Jason's grave, but when an alert arrives at the cave, he's flying towards the cemetery intending to find out.

And teach them some respect.

Of course, he knows Jason's not in there- not after his son returned with more hate and rage than a person- but it was still his last resting place.

He barely acknowledges Tim and Damian pulling up beside the Batmobile, each on their own bike while Dick, Steph, and Cass fly above him. They all got the alert. None of them are happy.

When they arrive, it's to see a teenager happily whistling as he shovels away layers of dirt. The stranger is in a white and black hoodie, a neon green ghost crossing from the front to the back, and his white hair with glowing green eyes lets them know it's not a human.

Or if it is, then not an average human. Meta, based on how he picks up way more dirt than he should be able to lift with his glowing green shovel.

They also see Jason get there first, his eyes glowing in Pit Rage and .points a gun to the back of the teenager's head. Bruce opens his mouth to shout, Damian manages to throw a ninja star, but they are far too late.

Jason pulls the trigger. A large bang is heard across the cemetery. The teenager drops into the deep hole he is making.

The family can only watch as the Pit Rage disappears from Jason's mind, and horror creeps onto his face as he realizes what he has done. It's too late now, though. The child is dead.

Bruce feels sick to his stomach- and then The teenager stands up, his head reforming in terrible familiar green liquid. The family forms a protective circle around a frozen Jason as the teenager turns around to look at them with Lazarus' green eyes and smiles.

Smiles at Jason with far too bright eyes. "I found you! I didn't realize you already left your grave, but that makes things easier. Jason Peter Todd, yes?"

"Who are you?" Bruce demands, stepping before his second oldest.

The white hair boy's smile becomes wider- if that's possible. "I'm Phantom. I'm working on behalf of the Ghost King."

Damian hisses, "What does the most powerful being in the multiverse want with Todd?"

"Baby Bat?" Dick asks without really asking.

"The Ghost King is the ruler of the Infinite Realms. The place where grandfather harvests the Lazarus Pit."

That's not good.

The teenager laughs. "The very same. He wants me to offer Legal Compensation to Mr. Todd."

"Legal Compensation? For what?" Tim asks this time.

"The glitch. See, Mr.Todd wasn't supposed to die- he was supposed to break the door and crawl to safety while the bomb jammed. At the same time, the Master of Time was preoccupied with another dimension saving the lives of six very important people to the Ghost King from a junk food explosion. Because of that, he was not there to control time correctly, creating a glitch in this universe's time flow. It speeded up certain areas, in your case, the location of the bomb's jam, making it explode earlier than it should have. He corrected it by bringing you back, but you were in a grave by that point. The Master of Time realized the grave injustice this was, so he sent me as legal Compensation."

That.... was a lot.

"How are you legal compensation?" Jason growls.

"Well, those people were just as important to me as the Ghost King. Since you lost your life due to the incident, I will give you my natural life here as a human for you to use." The teenager's form shifts after an ample bright light, and suddenly they are looking at a perfectly black hair blue eye average looking human who smiles happily at them. "Ta-da! So what do you want me to do first, Master Todd?"

"No." Jason hisses, looking angrier than he's ever looked before. Bruce can't say he doesn't feel the same way. "No, the Master of Time does not get to kill me. Go oopsie-daisy and then send me a fucking slave as an apology!"

"Not a slave- more of a- ugh Bulter!" The teenager argues, trying to crawl out of the hole and falling down, into a heap as he oversteps. "Wow, being a full human is going to get some getting use to."

"No!" Jason yells, turns around, and walks away.

"Wait! Wait! Master Todd, wait for me!" The teenager calls desperately, but Jason disappears into the shadows of Gotham without a backward glance. The boy slides into the mudd, voice muffled as he screams.

Steph takes pity on him offering her hand to help him out of the hole. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Phantom." The teenager says with a grateful smile taking the hand and climbing out. He gives the rest of the family an awkward smile "Danny Phantom"

Bruce ends up with another son by the following day. Jason ends up with a restless wanna-be butler who follows him everywhere, trying to serve him. The fact he cure his Pit Madness didn't seem to even register with him.

Jason wants Danny to leave him alone and quit the "I must spend the rest of my human life providing for your every whim". It's getting creepy.

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2023, Day 4

The Spike In My Heart

Summary: You could smell him miles away. It was the sweetest scent you have ever breathed. It was addictive. It was a need. You needed this smell. And what you found was Cole….

Pairings: Cole Turner X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  vampires, stalking, chase kink, explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, licking, overstimulating, blood kink (?), creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.7K

Previous

Series Masterlist

The world stopped moving. Time stood still, and all sins had been erased the second that scent dug its hole into your brain.

Obsession. There was no better way to describe it. It wasn’t close to you, but one drop of that decadent blood had set your mouth on fire. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, while you guess the notes of their blood. Man. It was definitely male.

Delicate. Like a field of wildflowers. Bees that gather pollen to create scrumptious honey that makes your mouth water. You need that blood. Already, you are craving something that you hadn’t even tasted.

Masculine. Like a man bathing in a river. The water cascading down his chest, and creating its own waterfalls. Your tongue lapping up the trail until you see his neck pulsing with his life force. You want that.

Angelic. Like a feathery soft sweetness that tickles along your skin. Creating a trail of goosebumps with every inch it touches. Airy and romantic. You desire it.

Your body won’t stop moving until you find the creature that had the most delicious notes of flavor. Stalking through the shadows until you find the smell. A smell that will forever be ingrained in your body. Your soul. A smell that…

You stop at the edge of the forest, tilting your head to the side. Your fangs retreat, and you can’t deny that was him. Your body had two heartbeats as soon as you saw his face. The almost non-existent beat of your heart, and the hard pulse in your pussy. He was beautiful. You had to admit he wasn’t who you were expecting to see.

You had gone through different scenarios on how you could make this dinner last. Had decided you were going to keep him locked up in the basement. But his cheeks sun kissed and red, deserved to be in the sun. The sun would be jealous if you ever took him away.

He is alone, which is more than you could hope because you needed a taste. But he was a bit skittish. Flinching at every little sound. It was adorable. You could chase him. You purposefully step on a branch, and the shovel he is holding drops to the ground, and he looks along the tree lines to find you. He wouldn’t see you unless you wanted him to.

His eyes hitting the light makes him that much more beautiful. He is precious. You want him. Want to protect him. Want to devour him. Even his trembling hand picking up the shovel makes you want to hold him.

Stepping on another fallen branch, he stands rigid scanning even harder, until you step in the light, “Run,” you whisper.

He might not hear it, but he understood. Dropping his shovel again, he races in the opposite direction of you. Predictable. You’d give the poor sap a head start. Sweet angel, even yelps. He smells so much better with his blood laced in fear and…that’s a new scent. He was in danger from something that wasn’t you.

It takes you seconds to catch up to him. His danger taking the fun in the chase away. His speed already slows down as he looks back at you in real fear. His pulse is off. “I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to taste you.”

“That doesn’t make me — feel — better,” he comes to a halt, placing his hands on his knees, “Is there like a — pause button in — this game?”

Deep staggering breaths have him choking before he reaches in his pocket. “It’s not — a gun. I just,” an inhaler. Oh he was a sweet one. He places the mechanism in his mouth, taking a deep puff, but his eyes never stray from you. “Vampires don’t exist.”

“We don’t?” Your fangs expand over your lips as you smile at him. “What makes you think we don’t?”

“So you’re gonna chase me then eat me until I’m dead?”

“Sweetheart,” his cheeks flush back to life as the pink expands over his skin. “I don’t eat people. I suck them.”

“You know, usually sucking sounds fun, but you mean my — and not my…”

“Oh, I could suck that as well if that’s what you required. You’re too sweet to kill. I want to savor you. Nothing has ever smelled sweeter than you.”

“I’m Cole,” Cole is too trusting. He goes quiet while he lets your words marinate in his brain. “Does it hurt?”

“Not if I don’t want it to. I promise there are ways to make you feel nothing but pleasure.”

“And…how — how is that?” You take both Cole and yourself to the ground, giving him a soft little peck to his lips. Your mouth trails across his jaw, giving him the tiniest nibble. And you drag the needle sharp edge of your fang along his skin. Cole arches and whimpers. Tilting his head to the side as he fully submits to you. Allowing you to see the throb of his pulse right on his neck. But it wasn’t the only part of him throbbing.

Sitting up suddenly, you allow yourself to straddle his body. Grinding over his pelvis with a cheeky grin. “Cole, you know the best way to experience this?”

“Wh-wh-what is that?” Your lips start kissing down his body as you undo his shirt. “Can I at least get a name?”

“Call me, Vixie,” you pull apart his shirt completely, marveling at his chiseled physique. Leaning down to lick around each of his nipples.

“So…what…what makes…you know giving you my blood…easier.”

“You’re adorable. Must be why you smell so sweet. Have you not figured out what I’m trying to do?” His head barely shakes no, and you roll your hips over his swollen crotch. “How about now?”

“Uh…w-w-wait…you want to kill me?”

“No, sweetheart, I want to overstimulate you, and give you the best orgasm of your life,” a timid squeaks pops out of his mouth, and just to make sure he understands, you roll your hips again. “What’s that, sweetheart? You want that? Or you want me to just take your blood and hold you captive?”

“Yeah.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“Yes, I want…I don’t want to be a — um — captive. Oh god,” Cole’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you remove your shirt. Reaching behind you to undo your bra, and his mouth waters with need. This was going to go by too fast, but in time, Cole would be able to handle even more.

Getting to your knees, you hover over him. Undoing his pants, you pull them down with ease. Moaning when his cock breaks free, oh he is delicious. Pretty beads of precum on his tip, and even his thick vein is throbbing with need. The need to feel your walls squeeze him tight.

“Where are you going,” he whines when you stand up. But you don’t answer, just shimmy out of your pants before straddling him again. His eyes cast down your body, lingering on your cunt. He watches as you start to sink back down to your knees.

You grab the base of his cock, and he chirps. The sweetest little sound of pleasure and nerves. “Cole, I’ve only just touched you, sweetheart, are you going to be okay with me riding this pretty cock?”

“Yeah. Yes. Most definitely. Ah,” Cole soothes out as you let his tip just touch your weeping cunt. He has the longest drawn out mewl when your body takes every inch. Even your own strangled moan echoes into the wind at how well he fills you up. Giving yourself a moment to adjust, while you look at him. He is struggling.

Biting his lip, his eyes clenched close. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“I’m trying not to come.”

“You’re adorable,” he finally opens his eyes a bit. Peering up at you. “Cole,” you don’t even bounce over him, just give a dirty grind, and his hands grip tight onto your hips while he seethes. “I’ll keep taking you until I come, sweetie. Just relax. Enjoy the ride.”

Reaching behind you, you fondle his balls as you start undulating your hips. Letting him get used to the feeling. He is vocal, and it feeds your ego. Receptive and letting you know how good you were making him feel. All you can see is red as your vision pulses to the rhythm of his pumping blood. Giving the illusion of a bad quality home video, but it made him more beautiful. He lifts his neck up while turning his head. Showing you what really turns you on.

Hard pounding throbs that you no longer can ignore. His dick is already twitching in anticipation of coming.

Leaning over, you start to bounce over him. Taking every veiny inch of him as you sniff up his neck. His scent was mixed with something even more sweet, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to think about that. Laying your tongue flat, you lick a stripe up the sensitive column before your fangs graze over his sticky skin. His body hums in excitement. He is almost there. Almost to his grand finale. He’d hold out longer in time, but you are still going to make sure he is overstimulated.

His moans are so much closer to you, and you feel the hum of it straight to your core. Timing just when you are going to bite him. He’d never want anyone besides you after this. You would be a drug to him.

Just as his breathing hitches, and his voice goes up an octave, you pierce his skin. His taste blows up all your senses, and your vision blacks out. Your body on autopilot as his seed spurts deep into your womb. Slamming yourself over him, the two of your juices create a thick cream that coats his cock and oozes out of you.

He tastes better than you could have ever imagined. Summer rain, the breeze from hummingbird wings, the buzz of the honeybee, the warm glow of a lightning bug, and even the sweetness of wild honeysuckle. His essence drains down your throat, coating your insides. If it wasn’t for your trembling thighs, you wouldn’t even know that you had reached your own peak. It was just Cole.

Taking in a deep inhale, you lick over his punctures. Your saliva acts as a salve while you close up his wounds.

“Cole? Sweetie, can you see?” With a dopey smile, he shakes his head no. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, if you do that again.”

“I’ll make sure to do this everyday. Every hour. Whatever you want.”

“Yeah…”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama

[rottenpumpkin13]

(somewhere in the multiverse)

Zack: I bet I can fit 20 of these marshmallows in my mouth!

Genesis: I can easily fit 30.

Angeal: I can fit 35.

Genesis: Is this a challenge??

Zack: You two are going down!

*They all end up with their cheeks puffed up full of marshmallows. Genesis is choking, Angeal is struggling to fit more, Zack is shoveling marshmallows into his mouth at light speed*

*Sephiroth materializes into reality*

Sephiroth: Hm. This timeline does not serve me.

*He materializes out of reality*

Zack: !

Angeal: ?

Genesis: 'ut da fuc' wus 'at

[i-eat-worlds]

A&F Platontic Omegaverse AU

This idea manifested after a rather late night for me, and refused to leave until I wrote it. I’d be open to writing more, so if you enjoyed it, please do share.

Content: A/B/O dynamics, non-graphic medical neglect, recent past violence, medical whump, made up omegaverse medical BS that I took way to seriously, minor injuries, medic caretaker(s), and graphic depictions of anaphylaxis and allergic reactions

Eric turned out of the Wendy’s parking lot, grabbing several fries and shoveling them into his mouth. Next to him, Joseph was slurping on a chocolate frosty. He flicked on the turn signal, pulling into the left lane, when a call came in.

“It’s for us. 5067 Prince Street, apartment 134. Female omega in unpartnered heat. Neighbor called it in, said she smells sick and scared,” Joseph read from the screen.

Eric turned in the direction of the call, flipping on the lights and sirens. The sea of other vehicles parted as he accelerated down the street, speeding towards the newer apartment blocks that rose several blocks over.

“Can you get a blocker ready for me?” He asked, taking another left onto Prince Street. Joseph hummed, peeling the back o of his and pressing it onto the back of his neck over his scent glands. “Sure.”

The Prince street apartments were a newer development, meant to house the ever growing population of college students who needed a place to live. Since it was early afternoon, there was plenty of space. They grabbed the stretcher, bags piled on top of it, and headed towards the building.

It was easy to tell that the apartment number they’d been given was the right one. They could smell it from several meters away in the hallway, thick and pungent, rancid enough to make you gag if you weren’t used to it.

Hand in a fist, Joseph knocked on the door. “OEMS! We got a call for an omega in heat?”

There was a beat of silence, and the scent grew more potent. Joseph’s stomach twisted. Still no response. Behind him, Eric held up the key that had been hidden under the mat. He waited for another beat. “We’re going to come in.”

The smell was nearly overpowering as they cracked the door open. Between the apartment’s size and its sparse furnishing, it did not take long for them to locate their patient.

She was in the bathroom, half dressed and curled up on the threadbare bath mat. One eye was puy and swollen, well on its way to becoming a black eye, while the other was brimming with tears. Her mouth was hanging open, hands shaking. When she saw both of them enter the room, she inched back, a scared yelp falling out of her lips.

Joseph knelt down in front of her. “I’m Joseph, and that’s my partner Eric. What’s your name?”

“Alex.” She cringed over in pain as a cramp rolled through her.

“How are you feeling right now, Alex?” Her breaths were fast and shallow.

“Cramps are really bad, feel hot, and I’m really tired. It’s like a heat but worse.” The tears had started to dry, but she was still obviously shaken.

“I…I have a care worker but he…he…he left,” she sobbed.” He left me. He was here to give me my dose of suppressants and I was in heat so he couldn’t because I guess they stopped working for some reason…” She trailed off, trying to hold off tears.

“You’re okay, breathe for me,” he comforted. Her pulse was rabbit quick, and her skin was sweaty and warm. Behind him, Eric cracked open an oxygen tank.

“He said he didn’t want to deal with it-” She prodded at her bruised eye. “I threatened to report it and he hit me. I don’t know what to do.” Another cramp cut her off.

“We’re going to take care of you, alright?” He smiled at her, concealing the flash of anger that flared inside of them. “Do you know which suppressants you take?”

Eric looped that mask around her head. “Metip…Mecip…I don’t know how to pronounce it?”

“Mecipromide?” That was one of the more potent suppressants, and older too. It had mostly been replaced by now.

She nodded. “I don’t know how much. He alway did it.”

“Alright. Breakthrough heats aren’t rare with that. Do you take any other medications?”

She shook her head, whimpering in pain again.

“I’m going to feel your glands now, tell me if it hurts.” He reached back around to her neck, fingers pressing into the warm and swollen glands.

“Ow.” She flinched away again.

“Now for your armpits, sorry if it tickles.” They were enlarged as well.

“Czerniaks and axillaries are inflamed,” he reported to Eric before turning his attention back to Alex. “When was your last heat?”

“Three, maybe four years ago? I was eighteen or nineteen.” Her voice was shaky, fear still rolling off her.

“Aright.” That was a pretty long time to be on Mecipromide for. “Is it just your eye that’s hurt, or did you get hit in other places?”

“Just my eye.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He put up two fingers.

“Two.”

“Good.” He shifted back. “Is your vision blurry? Any dark spots?” She shook her head. “Do you remember getting hit?”

A quiet “yeah.”

“Good. Any dizziness, nausea, or head ache?” Her breathing had slowed, and she seemed to be calming.

“We’re gonna get you on the stretcher and to the hospital now, alright?”

She nodded, leaning closer towards him. “Thank you.” Slowly, she pushed up to standing, using the counter to steady herself. The stretcher was outside the door, only a few steps, but she faltered, stumbling forward.

Joseph immediately reached an arm out, catching her before she could hit the ground. She yelped, and her eyes went wide as her body ung itself around him and latched on tight. Her legs became Jello, and he was the only thing holding her up.

It was textbook erstratory comfort seeking behavior. He’d seen it plenty of times, at least once or twice a week, while working for OEMS, but Alex seemed more surprised by it. She immediately tried to pull away, but her body didn’t let her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her head pushing into the crook of his neck.

The scent blockers prevented her from smelling what she was looking for, as did the fact that he was a beta. “It’s okay. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Her scent had changed, less bitter, more relaxed, but still worried. “I didn’t mean to, I promise.” Another cramp tore through her, and he had to support even more of her weight.

“You’re alright. I’ll help you over to the stretcher and we’ll see if you can let go then.” He kept his arms wrapped around her, mainly to keep her upright, but also because the touch was obviously soothing for her.

She groaned, nuzzling in closer as he helped her out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay. It’s normal.” He slowly let her down on the edge of the stretcher. “Do you think you can let go now?”

There was a tearful “no,” as she pressed into him.

“Alright.” He was quiet for a second. “I’m going to scoot you all the back to the crease, and then Eric’s gonna help you let go.”

“Thanks.” Unconsciously, she squeezed him tighter.

Joseph kept her supported as he moved her up the stretcher, one hand supporting her head and the other holding her back. She muttered something quietly into the crook of his neck. “What was that, Alex?”

“I don’t wanna let go.” Her voice was a little louder this time. “ ‘m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Gently, he let her head down. “There's a cuddle pillow for you in the ambulance. We just gotta get you there, alright?”

“Oh…okay.” She nodded a little.

“Eric’s gonna help you let go, alright?”

Behind him, Eric started to carefully uncouple her hands, peeling her fingers off her wrists. He set them down on the stretcher, and she whimpered trying to push closer. Joseph pulled away, finally breaking contact.

Alex shrunk in on herself, another cramp ripping through her. “It ‘urts.”

“We’ll get you to the hospital, just a little longer,” he said. She reached out, wrapping a hand around the bare skin just above where his glove ended. It was clear her touch needs weren’t being met. Hopefully, the hospital would be able to set her up with a better care worker.

They put the stretcher up and pushed her to the ambulance. The scent had repelled most people, and Joseph was glad they didn’t have an audience. He locked the stretcher in place, taking a seat on her left side.

“I’m gonna get a line in while Eric gets your vitals, then we’ll get you that pillow,” he said. Her hand was still locked around his wrist, and he gently removed it so he could use her hand.

Eric clipped the pulse ox to her finger and wrapped the cuff around her upper arm while Joseph slid a 22 into her hand. She laid there, tensing up as another cramp pumpled her. “Are you allergic to anything?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not that I know off.”

Eric rattled off her vitals, along with her weight and height, before turning around to dig out the pillow. She was warm, too warm, even for an omega in heat. Her breathing was still fast, along with her heart rate. Between that, the cramps, and the touch hunger, it seemed to be a pretty severe breakthrough estrus.

“Alex, I’m gonna give you some meds to help with your heat, alright?” He unzipped his medication bag as he spoke. “We’ll get on the road after this.”

She nodded, but was more distracted by the cuddle pillow Eric was laying beside her. Immediately, her arms and legs were wrapped around it, and exhaled as she nuzzled her face into it.

“I’m gonna get us up and moving,” Eric said as he peeled his gloves off and dropped them into the bin.

Joseph nodded, and the door closed behind him with a thunk. He quickly drew up the meds, a small dose of a mild suppressant and a synthetic hormone that would help relieve the cramps. “I’m gonna need your hand.”

She groaned, but pulled it off the pillow for him anyway. “Thank you.” He ushed the line and pushed the drugs.

Eric pulled them out of the parking lot, accelerating as he hit the main road. Alex wrapped her hand back around the pillow, curling up tighter. The pillow was helping. Her breathing and pulse had slowed, and her scent was much more relaxed. She still smelled sick, but signicantly less distressed. He made his report to the hospital, listing off the info they would need to know.

A couple minutes later, she started to scratch at her hand, picking at the Tegaderm. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but try to leave it alone. We’re only about five minutes away.”

She stopped messing with it, instead moving up higher and dragging her fingernails up and down her arm. “It itches.”

A pit opened up in his gut. This was going to be a thing now, wasn’t it? Just great. “Can I see?”

He took her arm in her hands, turning it over as he examined it. It was covered in hives. “Alex, you said you weren’t allergic to anything. Did your parents have any allergies?”

“I…uh…I don’t know. They both died when I was pretty young.” The fear had returned to her scent in full force, stinking up the back of the ambulance in the same way only it could.

“Okay. You having any diculty breathing?” Her tongue or face weren’t swollen, but he could hear each inhale and exhale.

She pulled the pillow closer. “A little.”

“I think you’re having a reaction to the meds I gave you,” he said as he drew up a syringe of epinephrine as he watched her. “I’m going to give you something to counteract it.”

Alex didn’t fight it as he took her hand in his so he could push the epi. She started to smell more frantic, her breathing speeding up. After updating the hospital and a brief chat with Eric, the sirens started to wail.

“It feels like there's something in my throat.” She said, eyes flickering around frantically. Her voice was pitched up, stress.

As he spoke, he set up his fluids. “It might take the epi a little bit to kick in. I’ve got you.”

Her expression grew more frantic, and her scent went sour, intensifying to an overpowering level. “It’s hard…It’s hard to breathe.”

“I know, I know.” He went ahead and started prepping an infusion, and upped the amount of oxygen she was receiving. “We’re nearly to the hospital. Is it getting any better?”

The epi should’ve started properly working by now, and they were only a few minutes away from the hospital. He didn’t want to stop and tube her now if he didn’t absolutely have to.

“It’s not getting worse.” She stammered, mouth hanging wide open.

“That’s good. You’re doing great.” The mass of hospital buildings was visible out of the back window. They were inches away from the ER.

She squeezed the pillow tighter, making a distressed keen. Her stats weren’t dropping and her blood pressure was holding steady. It looked like they would make it through the doors with her consciousness.

Eric turned into the parking lot and drove them up the entrance, and they wasted no time getting her into the hospital. He gave report as they transferred her from stretcher to bed, then quickly got out of the way after they weren’t needed anymore.

He’d ignored the odd pull on his heart as they left the building, chalking it up to the absolutely stink-fest the back of his rig was.

It was only ten hours later when his phone rang.

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch

@rainbowsandwhumperflies @snaillamp

[daboyau]

Two options!

“You were my brother. Now I don’t think we’re even friends.”

“Of course I love you! I always have, always will. There’s a lot to love.”

So funny enough I actually wrote almost 1000 words of angst for that second one, decided I didn’t like it, scrapped it, and then came up with a different idea I haven’t written out yet. I will finish and post that one at a later date. Here, have a silly one instead of an angsty one.

@boots-with-the-fur-club

The living room is in shambles. The couch had been overturned at some point, and pillows and blankets dot the room like bodies scattered across a battlefield. Leo kneels amongst the carnage, head hanging low, fists trembling as he braces himself against the cold concrete floor. His breath hitches as he hears Mikey laugh, low and cruel and full of the satisfaction of victory. Leo shakes his head, throat tight as he forces himself to face the betrayal that will shatter him. 

Mikey’s eyes shine bright in the flickering, artificial light. His smile stretches too wide, flashing teeth flecked with red. Leo shudders, breath catching in his throat. 

“Mikey…why?” he breathes, limbs trembling as he forces himself to stand, rising slowly to his full height. Mikey seems unconcerned, head tipping back to keep his eyes trained unerringly on Leo’s own. Meeting the stunned, hurt gaze with a smug expression of his own. For one terrible, heart wrenching second, Leo wonders if he ever knew his baby brother at all. Though it hurts, he forces himself to say, “You were my brother. Now, I don’t think we’re even friends.” 

Mikey barks a laugh, sharp and cruel. He shakes his head, though those bright eyes never leave Leo’s face. His voice is low and serious as he says, “Bonds mean nothing in the face of survival.”

Leo makes a small, hurt noise. For the briefest second, he sees a flash of the brother he once knew. Someone kind. Generous. Sweet. Someone he had trusted. 

“Leo,” Mikey begins, cracking first, just like he knew he would. That single brief flicker of uncertainty is all it takes for him to lower his guard. Leo strikes out, moving lightning quick, snatching the box of takeout from Mikey’s hands before darting backwards out of arms’ reach. Mikey squawks, hands reaching uselessly out to try to catch him, but he’s no match for a slider’s speed! Leo crows his triumph, rushing to crouch behind the flipped sofa, shoveling as much orange chicken into his mouth as he can manage in the scant seconds before Mikey is on him again and the fight for food begins all over. 

Mikey is halfway through destroying Leo’s temporary cover when a sound stops them cold, both boys freezing in place in abject horror. Leo’s cheeks bulge, but the looming threat of doom keeps him from swallowing. Mikey’s arms tremble from the strain of keeping the sofa hoisted above his head, but he dares not move, stuck like a rabbit hoping that if he freezes then the hawk will not descend to pluck him up into its terrible talons. All they can do is pray that their misdeeds will go unnoticed.

There is no god smiling down upon them today. 

“Boys!” Splinter roars as he takes in the state of the living room he had left only long enough to get a snack from the kitchen. “Which of you moved my chair and movie projector?!”

“He did!” they chorus as one, and without waiting for a response, they both run from the impending dressing down that is sure to follow. Splinter watches their retreating shells and chuckles to himself, grabbing the abandoned leftovers and settling into his chair to enjoy his meal. 

[depressedhatakekakashi]

“Happy Birthday,” Gai barely refrained himself from jumping out of his seat when he heard a voice directly behind him, followed swiftly by something light being placed on top of his hair. “Mmmm, yep, perfect.”

Turning his head, he grinned when he saw Kakashi standing there staring at him with a friendly twinkle in his eye. “Rival!”

“Hello,” slipping past the table, Kakashi dropped into the seat directly across from him and examined the arrangement of Sushi between them. “I see you’ve ordered already.”

“I know what you like, Rival

“An impressive feat for a man who can’t remember my students names.”

“That’s not- shut up.”

Taking his chopsticks, Kakashi shrugged. “I’d rather not.”

“Of course not,” reaching up, Gai brushed his fingers against the object now sitting atop his head. A smooth, small object rubbed against his skin. “Kakashi, did you-“

“Nope,” Kakashi answered before he could even get the question out. “Inoichi-San made it. I simply picked out the flowers.”

Curling his fingers around the object, he carefully lifted it off of his head and brought it down in front of him so that he could examine it.

“These are beautiful,” he whispered, taking in the pretty purples and gentle pink’s that blended perfectly into a nice little flower crown. Most of the flower’s were the same, but between them were some smaller, dark blue, flower’s to fill in the space.

“They’re Irisis,” claiming one of the cucumber maki, Kakashi plopped it into his mouth with such speeds that Gai failed to catch even the smallest glimpse of his face before the mask was back in place. “Inoichi-San said they represent faith, wisdom, hope and courage.”

“And these?” He asked, touching a tiny blue petal.

“Oh, those are Forget-me-nots,” Kakashi whispered. “I asked for a filler flower and he said those were perfect.”

“Because of the colours?”

Together, the purples pinks and blues created a brilliant view. Something so beautiful that Gai dreaded the day when they wilted away.

“Actually,” slowing, Kakashi averted his eyes. “They were kind of based off of you.”

“Me?” Gai blinked.

“Well, ya. Irisis symbolise hope, courage, wisdom and faith,” he repeated. “Just like you.”

Gai’s eyes widened with surprise. “You… picked flowers based off of me?”

“I wanted the perfect present, and I couldn’t think of anything more perfect than flower’s the represented you.”

Smiling, Gai returned his attention to the flowers. “And these?” He asked, touching another forget-me-not. “If the Irisis represent me, what do the forget-me-nots represent?”

A light blush creeped into Kakashi’s cheeks, just barely visible over the top of his mask but still catching Gai’s eyes as soon as it appeared.

“Well, they-“

Gai rose an eyebrow.

“Me.”

“You?” He gasped.

“Me,” Kakashi confirmed with a sigh. “Flowers perfect for supporting Irisis’, just like i’m perfect for you. Or at least, i hope- i- never mind!”

Panicking, Kakashi focused on the food in between them and began shoveling it into his face without hesitation. As if that would save him from the embarrassment of what he had just said.

“Perfect,” Gai whispered, his eyes taking in the beautiful sight laying in his hands. “A perfect gift from a perfect Rival.”

Hearing that, Kakashi began choking on all of the food he’d shoveled into his mouth in a rush to silence himself. “You-“ he gasped around the food, coughing when it continued blocking his airway.

“Oh, Rival,” setting the crown to the side, Gai set the crown down on the table and leaned over. Once he was within reach, he pulled down Kakashi’s past and promptly reached over to his back to start pounding on it.

With three sharp hits the food dislodged from Kakashi’s throat and splattered over the table, covering half the remaining food in remnants and spit.

“Perhaps stuffing your face was not the wisest idea,” Gai chuckled.

“Ya,” staring down at the table, Kakashi sighed. “Sorry, i just-“

“You struggle with emotions sometimes,” Gai finished for his rival, his smile growing when Kakashi finally gave in and met his eyes. “It’s alright rival. We can clean up and order new food.”

“I’ll pay?” Kakashi offered with a small voice.

“Of course!” Swiping the crown off of the table, Gai plopped it down on top of his head once more and grinned. “The birthday boy should never have to pay for his own mean”

[bambirex]

A Lesson In Patience

Pairing: Geraskier

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier

Additional tags: plot what plot/porn without plot, thigh fucking, light dom/sub, teasing, edging, orgasm delay/denial, crying during sex, age difference, set in season 1

Word count: 1,939 words

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: explicit

Summary: “Fuck me,” he moaned against Geralt’s neck. He pushed his body against Geralt’s, rubbing his hard cock against his groin. “Now.”

Geralt smirked against Jaskier’s skin. He gave his ass a curt spank, making Jaskier let out a delighted gasp.

“Get on the bed, then,” Geralt told him. Jaskier nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste. He threw himself on the bed, opening his legs with a sultry look. Geralt stood at the foot of the bed, raking his eyes over Jaskier’s body, practically already writhing with need.

“What are you waiting for?” He drawled. “Don’t just stand there!”

Geralt retrieved the bottle of oil from the desk, keeping his eyes on Jaskier all the while. Jaskier pouted and huffed, then reached between his legs and started stroking his cock, unable to go without a bit of pleasure for a few moments. Oh, it will be delicious to break him in and show him it was worth waiting, Geralt thought with a smirk.

Author's notes: Some unadultered, pure smut, served cold (or hot? I hope it is lol)

Had this image in my head for a while, finally got it out, so here's some PWP about it! Feedback is super appreciated <3

Read on Ao3

*

Jaskier was easily the most impatient person Geralt has ever met. He wanted everything all at once, and immediately: this personality trait of his affected pretty much everything in his life. It was in the way he talked, speaking so rapidly it was sometimes hard to make out each word, often straying between topics and not finishing sentences, because he had so much to say at once. It was in the way he walked, bouncing and speeding down the road without looking around, often bumping into things on the way. It was in the way he ate, shoveling food into his mouth and barely breathing between bites, complaining about a stomachache afterwards. It was in the way he so desperately wanted to achieve fame, pouting when his nonsense lyrics didn’t sit well with the folks, still scrambling to figure out who he was as an artist but already wanting to be the Continent’s most renowned bard.

And, of course, it was also in the way he fucked, overheated with hormones and wanting to try everything, swimming and drowning in pleasure, quickly taking and giving everything. He was in his early twenties, just barely out of his teenage years, it made sense he was riding high on the constant adrenaline of his youth, but it was annoying. Geralt was getting really fed up with Jaskier’s inability to take things slow. He already spread his legs or mounted Geralt after just a couple of kisses, which didn’t serve them right when Geralt wanted to draw things out.

Clearly, Jaskier needed to be taught a lesson in patience, before he ended up driving Geralt crazy.

Geralt did not tell him about his plan. They started things as usual, undressing each other during heated kisses. Jaskier sighed and moaned in bliss as Geralt’s hands caressed over his bare body, skimming the softness at his waist before dipping lower and giving his pert bottom a good squeeze. Jaskier tangled his hands in Geralt’s hair as he kissed all over the witcher’s neck. Geralt groaned when Jaskier nipped at his skin, sucking a mark there.

As usual, Jaskier started to get demanding after only a couple of minutes.

“Fuck me,” he moaned against Geralt’s neck. He pushed his body against Geralt’s, rubbing his hard cock against his groin. “Now.”

Geralt smirked against Jaskier’s skin. He gave his ass a curt spank, making Jaskier let out a delighted gasp.

“Get on the bed, then,” Geralt told him. Jaskier nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste. He threw himself on the bed, opening his legs with a sultry look. Geralt stood at the foot of the bed, raking his eyes over Jaskier’s body, practically already writhing with need.

“What are you waiting for?” He drawled. “Don’t just stand there!”

Geralt retrieved the bottle of oil from the desk, keeping his eyes on Jaskier all the while. Jaskier pouted and huffed, then reached between his legs and started stroking his cock, unable to go without a bit of pleasure for a few moments. Oh, it will be delicious to break him in and show him it was worth waiting, Geralt thought with a smirk.

He poured a generous amount of oil into his hand, coating his fingers with it. He made sure his movements were slow and thorough. Jaskier, as expected, did not like that.

“Geralt,” he whined, his voice so dramatically pained, “what are you doing?”

“Putting oil on my fingers,” Geralt replied calmly. “Why?”

“Melitele’s sake,” Jaskier huffed. He gave his cock a squeeze, groaning as he bucked into his hand. “Why are you taking so long?”

“On your hands and knees,” Geralt told him, ignoring Jaskier’s whining. Jaskier squealed as he rolled onto his front, pushing himself up. He wiggled his ass, spreading his legs as wide as he could. Geralt rolled his eyes at him fondly.

He knelt behind Jaskier, running a hand over the back of his fuzzy thighs. Jaskier shivered under his touch. Geralt took his sweet time caressing Jaskier’s legs and hips, mapping out his curves with gentle squeezes. Jaskier huffed again.

“What are you doing?”

“Touching you.”

“Geralt, I know that, I mean… why are you stalling?”

“Stalling?” Geralt asked innocently. He slipped his hand between Jaskier’s legs and cupped his balls. “I think it’s called foreplay, actually.”

He massaged Jaskier’s balls with his oiled-up hand, making Jaskier keen. He rocked his hips backwards desperately, begging Geralt to touch him where he needed him the most. Geralt skimmed the underside of his cock with just one finger, the touch barely more than a teasing tickle. Jaskier cursed.

“What’s wrong?” Geralt asked with a small smile. He took his hand away from Jaskier’s cock. “You don’t like it?”

“Geralt…”

Geralt pulled back and grabbed the bottle again. He spread Jaskier’s legs a little further apart, earning an excited little noise. Oh, the poor thing had no idea what was coming.

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier moaned, “get inside me!”

Geralt poured oil onto Jaskier’s soft inner thighs. He massaged it into the skin, slicking up the area as much as he could. Jaskier twisted his head to send Geralt a confused look over his shoulder.

“That’s not my hole,” Jaskier reminded him with a pout. “You’re heading too much to the south, dear.”

“I know,” Geralt replied simply. He poured one more layer of oil on Jaskier’s thighs before he slicked up his cock. Jaskier craned his neck to see it, licking his lips hungrily at the sight of Geralt oiling himself up.

“Mhm, yes, a nice treat for me,” Jaskier whispered sensually, “can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Geralt hummed. He ignored the way Jaskier wiggled his bum again. He grabbed Jaskier’s hips and pushed forward, thrusting his cock between Jaskier’s slicked-up thighs. The way the soft flesh enveloped his cock felt heavenly. He let out a pleased hum, while Jaskier snorted.

“Geralt, you’re definitely in the wrong place.”

“No, I’m in the right place,” Geralt told him. He grabbed Jaskier’s thighs and pushed them together, making them squeeze down around his cock. He groaned in bliss as he slowly started rocking forward, dragging his cock along the tight, pillowy channel Jaskier’s legs created.

“This feels really good, don’t you think so?” Geralt drawled. He caressed Jaskier’s hip gently. He pulled back slightly to watch his cock disappear between Jaskier’s thighs, slipping in and out of the new, warm hole he created for himself.

“Geralt, you said you would fuck me!” Jaskier whined loudly. His breath hitched when Geralt’s cock hit his balls. He trembled when Geralt did it on purpose, angling his hips upwards so their cocks would brush lightly again, before he returned to focusing solely on his own pleasure, humping Jaskier’s thighs in a slowly, steady rhythm.

“I didn’t say that, you started demanding it,” Geralt reminded him. “And I wanna do this, instead.”

“Why?” Jaskier whimpered again. “Wouldn’t it be better to be inside me?”

“I’m having a lot of fun,” Geralt chuckled. He closed his eyes in bliss as he moved his hips back and forth, rocking into the sleeve Jaskier’s thighs created. He caressed Jaskier’s trembling bottom as he tilted his hips again, letting their cocks brush together again slightly before he took it away again, leaving Jaskier hanging and whimpering.

“Geralt, please,” he begged, and Geralt could hear his voice growing high-pitched, desperate. “Please, this is nice and everything, but please, fuck me!”

Geralt gave his ass a sharp slap. It made Jaskier’s breath stuck in his throat.

“No,” Geralt growled, accentuating his words with a hard thrust that only served him right, as Jaskier couldn’t feel the same pleasure. He was left out of it cruelly, sentenced to only the feeling of Geralt’s hard dick moving between his thighs, occasionally hitting his balls when Geralt felt generous.

“You need to learn to take things slow, Jaskier. Sometimes, you need to wait to have your turn.”

“I’ll be good,” Jaskier pleaded. He squeezed his thighs together harder, the vice pulling Geralt in deeper and making him growl. Jaskier moved his legs, grinding them together and trying to milk Geralt’s cock with his thighs. Geralt growled at him.

“Be still.”

Jaskier buried his face in the pillows, his whimpers turning muffled. His entire body trembled with need, but he stilled, gripping the sheets beneath him.

“Good behavior might earn you a reward,” Geralt reminded him gently. He pulled back to pour some more oil onto his cock, then onto Jaskier’s thighs as well. He could see his sensitive inner thighs turning red, and he didn’t want to chafe him any longer. He slipped back inside with a pleased grunt.

“This is torture,” Jaskier sniffled. His back was taut, the muscles pulled tight as he did his best to remain still. “You’re torturing me.”

“I’m making sure you’ll learn that not everything has to happen fast.”

Truth be told, there were moments where Geralt’s own composure nearly crumbled: the sight of Jaskier like this, whimpering into the bedsheets, his entire body trembling, desperately holding back, trying to be such a good boy for him, was incredibly arousing. Geralt enjoyed watching the way his cock stabbed between Jaskier’s plush thighs, the way those thighs clenched around him, shivering with the effort not to move too much. It wasn’t as if Geralt didn’t want to fuck into Jaskier’s tight little hole that clenched around nothing right in front of his eyes, quivering in a way that made Geralt’s mouth water. He ran a thumb over it, slowly, caressing around the tight ring of muscles. Jaskier jumped slightly, then stilled right away- he was learning already. Good.

“Yes, not yet,” Geralt drawled. “Good boy.”

Jaskier moaned in response. Sweat was running down his back as he gripped the bedsheets tighter while Geralt continued fucking his thighs. He accepted his fate with a resigned sigh, turning as still a statue. Geralt rewarded him with a good set of thrusts that jostled his balls that were pulled taut with the need to release. Geralt rubbed his dry thumb over Jaskier’s hole, teasing him as he sped his thrusts up just a little bit.

“You’re being so good,” Geralt praised him, his hips stuttering as he slowly approached his climax. “Just a little more. Can you hold on for me?”

“Yes,” Jaskier cried. Geralt leant over him, fucking deeper into the silky soft channel as he kissed all over Jaskier’s back, soothing him.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Geralt commanded. “I’ll make you cum after I’m done.”

Jaskier whimpered something incoherent in response as Geralt’s thrusts slowed again, then his body stilled as he came, coating Jaskier’s inner thighs with his seed.

He remained still and quiet while Geralt caught his breath. Geralt pulled back, admiring the sight of Jaskier’s pinkened, soaked, pathetically trembling thighs. Geralt caressed them gently, thanking them for their wonderful service.

Jaskier literally sobbed when Geralt finally took pity on him and took his cock in his hand, jerking him off with quick movements. He slipped a finger inside Jaskier’s hole as he pumped his aching cock, and that was all he needed to cum all over Geralt’s hand, crying and howling as his pent-up, needy body finally got its release.

Geralt gathered him in his arms as Jaskier collapsed, kissing all over his teary and sweaty face.

“So good, such a good boy,” Geralt murmured as he cradled Jaskier to his chest. “Very nice, quick learner.”

Jaskier snorted softly as he buried his face in Geralt’s chest, clinging to him.

Geralt was certain Jaskier needed some more time to learn, but he clearly wasn’t a lost cause.

[xamaxenta]

Holy God SHOVELING HIM INTO MY MOUTH AT LIGHT SPEED WHOEH

[official-capcom]

*shovels rocks in my mouth at the speed of light*

[strongermonster]

the wife of one of my friends is a grade 1 teacher and earlier today i was tryna take a sippy from my drink but i had sticky little gremlin hands from shovelling maple fudge brownies into my mouth at the speed of light, so she held my drink up to my mouth for me and said "there's a good girl" and then pulled a wet wipe out from her bag and wiped off my hands for me like i'm a child and i. it. hm...

[rrcenic]

hey you guys should read the winnie the pooh/bee movie (with a camp camp reference because i was a basic bitch) short horror story i wrote in 7th grade

cw for blood, violence, substance abuse, addiction, and overall gore/horror

Morning dawned on the little cottage in the Hundred Acre Wood. The little yellow furry yawned, stretched his legs, and slowly waddled to his bathroom. He looked in the mirror and saw Winnie the Pooh, an innocent little bear.

Well, at least, he used to be an innocent little bear.

It had been 6 years since Christopher Robin left for boarding school.

6 years since the honey addiction started.

6 years since he started trying to find his father.

8 months ago, Owl’s black market trade of honey smuggled in from America had gone dry. Apparently, the bees had revolted against the honey companies. But Pooh had enough. 

Until he didn't.

Honey substitutes kept him sane, but they weren't enough. He had psychotic breakdowns, he was shaky, unstable. And worst of all: Christopher Robin never responded to his texts.

Piglet couldn't take it anymore. He did some digging online and found records of possible families. He gave Pooh the address of an investigation bureau. 

So he traveled to America, with a note to the office. But at this point he’d given up on finding his family. He now had one goal in mind: 

Find honey

Pooh pulled his black hoodie over his head as he jumped out of the white van. He quickly clipped the barbed wires and snuck into the abandoned honey farm. Sneaking in was highly illegal, and just the slightest creak made 

Pooh jump. He took a deep breath and kept walking.

The abandoned hives had started to decay, the honey had rotted and turned red. In this lighting, Pooh could have sworn it looked like...blood… 

No! he thought, It's just my imagination… 

He stopped, and sniffed, his little black nose sticking tentatively out of his hood, his yellow snout scrunched up...did he smell what he thought he smelled?

Honey!

Pooh ran towards the hive, forgetting about the idea of staying secret. Sweet, sweet honey! He began to shovel it into his mouth, when he heard a small voice.

“Hey! Don't you know the laws!” shouted a bee, standing there with his arms crossed.

“It's just a little honey!” Pooh pouted.

“If you take another mouthful of that honey, you will forever pay the consequences!” the bee continued. “You’ll face the wrath of me, Barry B. Benso-”

Pooh had run out of patience. He quickly stomped on the bee and continued eating, convinced that the bee was dead and he wouldn't be bothered again. He scampered over to another hive.

Behind him, Barry’s hand twitched.

When he was full, he filled his van with as many jars of honey as possible. Pooh knew he had to get out of there fast, so while he left, he didn't pay attention to the 25 mph speed limit sign, and was half-an-hour away from the old farm when he first heard the police sirens. He sighed and pulled over.

However, the police officer immediately noticed the sticky red stuff on his yellow paws. “And one more question,” the officer asked after Pooh received the ticket. “What is that?”

Pooh panicked. Honey was illegal now, and he didn't want to be put in jail. “Uhhhh, corn syrup?” he cringed.

“Oh, really?” the officer scoffed. “It looks suspiciously like... blood.”

“It's not! I swear!” Pooh shouted.

The officer grabbed his paw. “Wait, is this honey?”

Pooh hit the gas

He quickly found a place to sleep. A dingy motel, the color of mildew, that smelled like wet socks. Pooh was so tired from the police chase and the jet lag, and the honey effects were starting to wear off. Pooh sighed and rolled over. He tried to sleep, but a little scratching noise on the wall kept him awake. Eventually, he sighed, took a swig of honey, and stood up.

“What is that noise?” he asked. Pooh looked over to the small, dirty window. It was open, and there was a hole in the bug screen. Small enough for a bee to fit in...

I'm just paranoid, he assured himself. Barry is dead. I killed him...didn't I?

“You didn't do a good job of it.” a buzzing whisper echoed around the room. 

“Barry?! How are you alive! How do you know what I'm thinking?!” Pooh screeched.

“Oh Pooh, I was never alive. I’m not a normal bee.” Barry smiled a crooked, dead smile. “And you’ve destroyed my mortal body and taken my bee syrup. I'm here for revenge.”

“B-b-but where are you?” Pooh whimpered.

“We are right outside your window” the voice responded.

We? Pooh though. But he’s only one bee...

Pooh looked outside and let out a shriek.

Swarms of bees crowded around his small window. And they looked intent on revenge. Pooh quickly hid the jar behind his back and slammed the window.

Two hours had passed and Pooh was still cowering in his room. Sure, he had stolen some honey. Sure, he had squished the lead bee. But how did Barry get here so fast? Who were the other bees? Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him.

Pooh cracked the window. “Uhm, so sorry to bother you, but...who are you?” he whispered cautiously.

“We are Barry B. Benson, the reincarnation of every bee you’ve ever stolen honey from, and we are here to make sure it never happens again. Barry NEVER forgets. In fact, we are already on the path to vengeance.” the bees screeched in unison. 

“What-what have you done?” Pooh whimpered.

Barry smiled. “Why do you think Christopher Robin won't  talk to you?”

“H-he’s at school, he may have forgotten-”

The bees began to cackle as Barry held up a rotted head. Pooh’s vision clouded. No, no, no- 

He was paralized by the indescribable sight.

(authors note: i edited this at age 12 im sorry)

Pooh ran.

The flight back is in 20 minutes, Pooh told himself. I’ll be fine, it'll be fine. He had all of his honey hidden under his fur coat, which blended in with his fuzzy yellow figure. As soon as he could see the JFK check-in, he slammed on the breaks and ran for it. Through check-in, through security, through international customs, and to Gate 1B of British Airways. The stewardess offered him a cup of coffee. He panicked and threw it back at her, covering her in boiling liquid and mumbling something about wanting tea. The seatbelt signs came on, and Pooh relaxed. He was safe now, there was no way Barry could find him here.

On the back of the plane, a woman asked the grumpy stewardess why there were thousands of bees outside her window.

Cameron Campbell was not your average man. He’d had several crumbling careers, including a failed fast-food chain called McCampbells, a Russian honey-smuggling business, a mini war with Kentucky, and a summer camp. But he’d spent his time in jail towards becoming a better person, and was ready for his first day as a co-pilot. His partner had gone to use the bathroom and left him steering the plane. He smiled, his grey mustache shining in the sun, and turned on the speaker. 

“This is your captain speaking. We’re currently passing over the Atlantic Ocean. That island you can see in the distance is-” 

He was momentarily distracted by a half-decomposed bee holding an ax above his head. Cameron dropped the speaker and screamed. “WHAT?! WHO ARE YOU- PLEASE DON'T KILL ME, PLEASE-”

With the speed of a bullet, it lodged itself deep into Cameron’s eye. With one last scream, his body went limp. Barry B. Beson was deep in Cameron’s brain. Barry concentrated hard, and bees swarmed Cameron’s eyes. Barry was now in complete control. Cameron’s body smiled and steered straight down, towards the ocean.

“We apologize for the noise and turbulence. Please remain calm. Everything will be fine.” 

He clicked off the microphone and locked the cockpit door.

Pooh knew what had happened. He didn't know how it had happened, but he knew that voice. Barry had found him. Pooh ran as fast as he could, but he knew it was pointless. He was trapped. 

The bees began to swarm throughout the plane, attacking the other passengers. Pooh hid under a seat, in an empty dog cage. The buzzing suddenly stopped. Pooh looked up. 

There were people sprawled everywhere, covered in stinger scratches and dripping with red. Pooh tried not to vomit at the sight. A small child stirred. Pooh ran over, trying to see if he was alive. 

“H-hello? Are you quite well?” he whispered.

The child turned around. In her empty eyes, Pooh could see the familiar glare of Barry B. Benson. 

“Oh, I feel just nifty, Winnie benson.” it creaked softly. 

“B-Benson? What?” Pooh stuttered.

“That's right, pooh. Why do you think you like honey so much? It runs   in the family.” Barry’s voice echoed.

In a way, Pooh realized he’d succeeded. He’d found his father. But all these people would be alive if he hadn't. 

The lifeless bodies of the passengers stood up and smiled at Pooh, blood dripping from their empty sockets. There was nowhere Pooh could run. He slammed on the cockpit door, knowing it would make no difference. Tears streamed down his face. No, no, no, this wasn't how it ended!

The door opened. Pooh ran inside and leaned against the door. He had about 3 minutes till the swarm penetrated the metal barrier.

Pooh curled up into a ball and screamed. He shouldn't have come here at all. Should have listened to his friends. There was no one to blame but himself. All the bees he’d killed had come back to find him. He’d tried to hide from it, but it was true. There was nowhere he could go where his past couldn't catch up. Nowhere he could run where his problems couldn't find him.

He noticed the parachute bag, 5 feet away from him. There was still hope for the little yellow bear! He wiped his nose, then quickly strapped the bag on and opened the emergency exit door.  Pooh thought about everything he had to live for, took a deep breath, and jumped.

Pooh was falling fast. He fearfully pulled the parachute. It opened and-

He kept falling. Pooh panicked and looked up. The parachute was full of little, bee-shaped holes. In one last moment of paralyzing fear for what would happen now, he managed to squeak, “Oh, bother!” before he hit the water.

They never found any trace of Winne the Pooh ever again, except for a small, empty jar of honey with his TikTok username scrolled on the bottom. They never found the bees, either. But legend tells us that every time you take the life of a bee, its soul joins the ever-growing form of Barry B. Benson.

And Barry never forgets.

[marypsue]

You know the drill. It's Sneak Peek Sunday, have some Party dynamics in action from former heroes!

...

The silence hangs over them all like the heaviness before a thunderstorm, as they collect their bikes and Max’s board from the carport. Whatever lightness there’d been in everybody’s moods earlier, there’s none of it left now. Just simmering resentment and an uneasy, barely-tamped-down worry that they’re all sharing.

Which is why it takes Mike by surprise when, while Dustin and Lucas and Will are checking the walkies and coordinating channels, Max slugs him in the arm. “You better bring my boyfriend back in one piece, Wheeler, or the Mind Flayer’s gonna be the last thing you have to worry about.”

“Great. There goes my master plan to feed my best friend to an interdimensional monster,” Mike deadpans back into the teeth of Max’s flat, sarcastic glare. “Are you gonna give Will the shovel talk too? Since apparently you and El are joined at the hip? Or have you and Will swapped friendship bracelets now, too? Just Lucas wasn’t enough for you, you have to monopolise all of my friends?”

Max’s disbelief curdles into annoyance with a speed that she only really seems to achieve when Mike talks. “Ugh. Why are boys so stupid.”

“I’m not included in that, right?” Lucas asks, as Max rather pointedly turns her back on Mike to tangle her fingers with his. Mike doesn’t think it’s a stretch to feel like she’s doing it on purpose.

“Are you kidding? Of course you are.”

But neither Max or Lucas are actually mad, when Lucas leans down to brush his lips against hers. Mike is never going to understand the two of them. Not even if he lives to be a hundred.

“Be careful,” Lucas murmurs, drawing back just enough to look Max in the eye.

Mike doesn’t think Max realises the little smile she’s wearing is there when she answers, “You too.”

It’s stupid to be envious of them right now. Mike doesn’t dare look over at El and see what she’s looking at, where she’s directing that curiosity. Instead, he ends up catching Will’s eye. He looks about as impressed as he feels, and Mike has to look away again.

“Hate to interrupt your very important spit-swapping,” Will says, a little overloud, when clearing his throat pointedly a few times totally fails to get Max and Lucas to break apart for good, and not just keep going back for one last little peck, over and over and over. Honestly, Mike’s getting almost as irritated as Will is. “If you could spare a couple minutes to focus on the alien monster that might be eating people as we speak? And the Russian spies that’re planning to burn down the mall in twelve hours or less?”

Lucas gives a heavy sigh as he takes a step back away from Max. But all he says is, “You’re right. We should get moving.” To Max, he adds, “Look out for Dustin, will you? Make sure he doesn’t walk straight into the monster’s mouth because he wants to see its teeth better.”

Dustin flips him the bird.

[matoitech]

shoveling salmon into my mouth at the speed of light not unlike a bear (animal)