#and I was given another kitten lol

[restinsodaroni]

I want to be more involved in the DCA community.

There's so many fun things going on and I always miss out. Partly because of my time constraints, and mostly my irrational insecurities that I may come off as annoying or weird or boring lol.

Idk it's hard to explain but I want to interact more with everyone in the DCA fandom. I think it's mostly because I got so used to keeping to myself that I don't really know where to start.

I'm sorry I seem so standoffish or too withdrawn. It's something I'm trying to work on lol. Anyway, I'll try harder to be more involved in the fandom 🌟

[orcelito]

Another morning another day

I've been thinking a lot about going to the animal shelter

[camellia-thea]

hmm.

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[dellieghtful]

LADS: Getting Locked Out During A Blackout

SYNOPSIS: What would happen if the guys get locked out of their homes during a blackout?

🍓 A/N: Not connected to any of the series but it's something that's been on my mind for a while, definitely something I might probably sorta kinda work on in the future if writer's block doesn't get to me first lol ˘͈ᵕ˘͈ happy reading!

p.s: this was done with absolutely 0 direction to plot, i swung with what my brain could process at 930PM

📍characters: Xavier, Zayne, Sylus (separate)

XAVIER

Without a doubt is the reason for the whole blackout (was caught multiple times by residences practicing nearby the eletric generators that supply the ENTIRE BUILDING with electricity)

Always leaves his keys indoors, doesn't bother to leave spare keys (or even get spare keys for that matter lol)

Destroys the door in 9/10 blackout occurences because: "sword's are just a makeshift keys" (proceeds to brutally stab his own door to carve a whole and reach the knob)

Once waited out in the dark hallway near your door to ask for help after being given a last and final warning by the building owner about door-slashing

"Oh my God, Xavier! Don't creep up on me like that" you say, as you feel your back press against your hard door.

"I got locked out," Xavier says, running his hand through his hair, with a sheepish grin plastered across his face. "and, the electricity is out for the evening until morning."

"That sounds super bad. Did they get anyone to fix it?"

"Yeah, I'll be helping the fixing tomorrow".

"Do you even know how to fix the generator?"

"No."

"Then why did you offer to help them anyway?" you screech at him.

In moments of emergency or when he feels like it, Xavier brings out the sun fuzzies and shines like a diamond during blackouts and crashes at your place because he doesn't like shining alone in the dark at his place

Got a new rule dedicated towards him (a.k.a no swordfighting near the generators) made by the building management (was also mentioned during the anual homeowner's meeting about safety and security)

Still receives occassional complaints from neighbors about door-slashing tendencies. Currently preparing a building-wide public apology fo address related concerns (which will be done again the succeeding week)

ZAYNE

Zayne? Leaving his keys at home and the door unlocked? That's unheard of! But, he actually once lost his keys to his own office at the hospital

Amongst the guys, Zayne actually has plans B to Z in case of blackouts. Computers aren't working? No lights? Urgent surgery? He's got it all worked out! except for losing his office keys lol

Zayne can actually form make-shift keys out of ice to unlock doors with ease

Has Zayne ever left his car keys in the car while it was parked at the hospital's parking space? Never. Did Zayne erase any available footage of that happening? absolutely yes.

Zayne always labels his keys for easy navigation but the one time his labels had gone missing had left Zayne a good 30 minutes trying to figure out which key unlocks his office door. Surprise! Surprise! Sylus proabably peeled it all off

SYLUS

Doesn't lose keys but is the reason why people lose their keys

Sylus? Locked-out of his own glorious mansion? that's crazy! BUT not impossible lol was actually locked out once due to unforseen circumstances that will never be released to the public

Sylus would probably never experience a blackout because man has enough money to fund an entire city with electricity! But once tried to cut off your building's power supply in hopes of convincing you to live with him

"Oh kitten, another blackout again? It must be hard living in such difficult conditions. Why don't you come live with me? We have fruit loops and cold milk".

"Ha! Nice try, but we both now that's enough to convince me. I'm in".

Would probably switch out your keys with fakes for fun (probably the reason why Zayne was locked out of the office)

While polishing his gun and humming a melody, Sylus could have never found a more perfect time to relax. The moment wad made even more perfect when your name flashes on his screen. Without a second thought, he swipes and your voice could be heard through the speaker. And it definitely DID NOT sound happy.

"Did you switch out my keys?"

"Why hello, kitten. What a pleasure to hear your voice after such a long time. Are you coming to visit?"

"Where are my keys?"

Soft jingling can be heard on the other side of the phone, confirming your suspicion that Sylus indeed has stolen your house AND bike keys.

"Need a lift or a joyride?" He asks, clearly you can feel he's smirking on his little grown-man chair while polishing his gun. You could only groan in annoyance, praying for an ounce of extra patience from above.

"Yes."

"I knew you'd come around, sweetie. I'll be there in 10".

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

We all need someone.

Pairing: Jackson!Joel x afab!reader

Words count: 3919

Rating: +18, NSFW

Warnings/Tags: flour is safe in this one (LOL), smut, fluff, angst, Joel POV, Joel's thought inserts in italics, no use of y/n, reader is described having hair, breast and vagina, no other detail is given on her appearance, Soft!Joel, Older!Joel, age gap (20 years, but the age of both is not specified so it could be 20/40 as well as 30/50 and so on 😉), swearing, kissing, dirty talk, unprotected p in v (do better than these two irl, please), breeding kink (I don’t even know why this happened but here we are LOL), cream pie, cum eating, mention of Sarah and Tess (they’re both gone, I’m sorry 💔), Joel thinks about his past relationship with Tess, mention of Ellie (of course she's alive and well but doesn't speak to Joel), a lot of mixed feelings, some of them sad and kinda depressing, pet names (honey, baby, kitten), they says I love you for the first time.

This has been sitting incomplete in my folds for quite some time, I finished it these days and I hope you understand something about how deeply I love Joel, nothing ever seems enough to describe how I feel. I will continue to try anyway.

English is not my first language, I have no beta and I hope there are no mistakes but if there are please forgive me.

As always, thanks if you will take the time to read this ❤️

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

Joel is old. He can’t deny that no more.

Life wasn’t gentle at all with him and he can see clearly all the signs of it on his face and body.

His mirror reflects the image of someone tired, overwhelmed, just too worn out to feel an inch of youth somewhere in him.

Grey in his hair and beard, pain in his joints, hands calloused and ruined by the cold, back that gives him nightmare, weak knees, wrinkles… his entire self is failing on him.

He doesn’t even understand how he got someone like you.

Beautiful. Sweet. A body that could make world turns and the most amazing face he ever saw.

You don’t see you that way, obviously.

You don’t notice how men in Jackson look at you.

And you don’t even care because you only see him.

He can’t believe how lucky he is.

The most angelic creature set her eyes on him, barely a shell of a man.

He drop his gaze from the bathroom mirror sighing and returns to bed.

Near you.

______________________________

The day he met you for the first time he immediately felt the need to keep you safe running wild in his veins.

You were like a deer in front of flashing lights, scared, bewildered, confused.

And he was there, his hands itching with the urge to touch you, warmth radiating in his chest, his cock twitching into his pants.

You looked like a painting despite your dirty clothes and your lack of shower.

But then again, how could you deal with such things in the middle of nowhere, alone and hungry while struggling to survive.

You deserve the prettiest things.

Whatever he could find during patrol he brought it home to you. Wild flowers that he found in the wood, dresses, one time a brooch left in a drawer in an abandoned house, another time a nice scarf to keep you warm.

Nothing could match your inner beauty and your grace but seeing your bright smile is what keeps him alive right now.

“You don’t need to do that, Joel”

Sure he needs to do it, you’re a vision and he’s just an old man.

He vouched for you.

They were skeptical, you could have been a thief or a rat for some larger group.

You refused to talk about your past, which was why everyone was suspicious.

Joel knew.

He saw pain and loss in your eyes despite your stoic demeanor.

The grumpy, loner, unfriendly man that has always struggled to open up to anyone promised to keep an eye on you in front of the whole community.

And that’s why you ended staying in his house.

He got plenty of space anyway so it didn’t bother him, that’s what he said.

You scratched that little wound in him, that little scar that he thought he was keeping under control.

No matter how tough you tried to be, he could see the fear in your eyes, he could read it clearly in your emaciated face, in your frown and the involuntary twitch of your lower lip.

We all need someone.

He failed to admit that he needed you too, at first.

His battered heart had been out of order, had been crushed to pulp for Sarah, had bled for Tess, had died when Ellie stopped speaking to him.

He tried to be distant and coldly polite like he was with everyone else but you were right there, reminding him that beauty still existed in a fucked up world.

And after all, his heart was still working. It had been kicked but it was still pumping blood through his veins.

The day after you entered his house he woke up to noises coming from the kitchen and thought for a moment that the others were not mistaken. He grunted as he got up thinking he would find his supplies raided and you gone. He almost didn’t have the courage to come and check on you but then he heard a loud metallic thud and ran into the kitchen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” you said as soon as he appeared in the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast… except I dropped a pan. Sorry.”

His gaze shifted to the table where he saw pancakes and hot coffee. “I thought you wanted some bacon, so I washed the pan to prepare it and it slipped out of my hands while I was soaping it up and the handle broke”

He breathed a sigh of relief as you looked at him guilty . “It's okay, I'll find another one and anyway maple syrup is fine”

Your eyes widened as if he had told you he owned a gold nugget.

“Do you have maple syrup?!” you squeaked and he laughed “sure”

You sat down at the table and you doused your pancakes in syrup. “Hey, take it easy, we don’t have supplies for an army.” he couldn't resist teasing you. Your gaze immediately dropped "oh shit, sorry, I should have thought about it but I don't know how long it's been since I last ate it“

He burst into the loudest laugh anyone had made him utter in months. “Don't worry, help yourself“.

_______________________________

You ended up in his bed during a freezing night, snow storm raging outside, the wind howling and banging against the shutters.

You knocked on his door timidly. Just once.

He was awake, wrapped in his sheets, under a duvet, eyes wide as he begged for a way to sleep.

“Who is it?” A stupid question, there were only the two of you in that house.

“It's me…I…I can't sleep” your voice was muffled by the closed door but it ringed in his ears anyway.

He sighed and replied “Come in”

“Sorry,” you said as you entered, “did I… wake you up?”

She came to me just because I’m right here in the same house.

“No, I can't sleep." and seeing your uncertain steps on the parquet floor he gently urged you "come on, sit here" and he patted the empty side of the bed.

She'll sit here for a while and then go back to her room, he lied to himself.

You sat down, wrapped in too-small pajamas that showed too much of your ankles and wrists, the best you could find in the pile of clothes stored in Jackson's warehouse.

The buttons struggled in the front to contain your breasts.

Lying like that, he could see the outline of your tit from a gap between one buttonhole and the other.

“Why can't you sleep? Is it the storm?” He shifted his gaze to the wall in front of him, focusing on a stupid painting of a horse that someone had hung there who knows when.

“Yes, and also…I keep thinking about a nightmare I had last night, I’m afraid to dream about it again”

That night you opened up to him, you told him about how your parents died, how you managed to escape with some friends and how in the end, you were the only one still alive.

You didn't even know how, at some point you had lost hope. You dragged yourself day by day, a walking dead waiting for the end. You thought you would die in less than a week and instead you had survived another two months before he found you.

__________________________

Joel wished he had the strength to send you back to your room, close his eyes and sleep, without getting involved but everything you had said to him continued to echo in his head. You were finally vulnerable, eyes shining with tears that you were holding back. He felt it again, the need to keep you safe.

He wanted to kiss you.

He reached out to touch your hand. “You’re cold”

You shook your head “No, I’m fine”

You were lovely.

I have to stop, he thought.

“Get under the duvet if you want”

“No really, Joel, thanks but there's no need.”

Why do you have such a sweet voice?

“I don’t want you to get sick.” He immediately regretted saying it, did he sound like his grandmother now? It was tragic. And his pathetic attempt to get you into his bed was even worse.

You laughed. Your silvery laughter pierced his chest, leaving him baffled and needy.

“You know we don’t get sick from the cold, right?”

You were amused and you were teasing him.

“I know,” he replied dryly, pouting. Inside, he was a mess. “However, exposing yourself to the cold contributes to lowering your immune defenses and viruses and bacteria can have a party at your expense”

You laughed even more “Okay, okay. God, when you say these things you sound just like-”

Not your father. Please, don’t say that I sound like someone that could be your parent.

Instinctively he covered your mouth with his hand and you jumped as his big paw suddenly landed on your mouth.

“Damn Joel! Your hands are too big to do that all of a sudden,” you said to him with wide, scared eyes and he felt horribly guilty. He hadn’t thought about it, his head wasn’t thinking anything, but surprising you like that could awaken traumas in you, who knows what cruel and desperate people you had met out there.

You held his hand tightly in yours after you pulled him away from your mouth. You needed two hands to hold it. You were so small. Yet you were capable to do it, you were tougher than you thought.

He quickly apologized and tried to pull it away but you were still holding it.

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting it”

You were blossoming in front of him, a completely different person than the one he saved in the wood, newfound lightness in your eyes, your body finally relaxed as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, the discomfort you showed at the beginning had completely disappeared.

Stop it, she’s too young, she’s 20 years younger than you.

Then you did something he didn't expect. You brought his hand back to your mouth, leaving feather kisses on his calloused fingers.

“These hands make me feel safe, you know? I don’t want that to change. They are the hands that saved me.” you added in a whisper between kisses and there…Joel’s moral code collapsed.

All his good intentions swept away by your lips.

He shouldn't have, but his body was no longer responding to his brain.

He sat on the bed, slowly taking you in his arms.

In your eyes he saw his own need. He no longer cared what others would say, he only felt the unbearable desire to have you that was throbbing in his temples.

You kissed him first. While he was still looking for a way you simply placed your mouth on his and kidnapped him in an instant.

You were so soft against him.

Your lips trembled with uncontrollable desire against his, demanding and needy.

“Joel…” you breathed on his skin “save me. Save me again”

He couldn’t say no, even though he felt overwhelmed and exhausted and he should just find a way to stay away from you so he wouldn’t drag you into a relationship that was wrong.

Maybe it’s not, he thought. If it makes me feel this good and if she wants it so much, maybe it’s right.

Maybe that's why I found her.

When you grazed his lips he just opened it letting you in.

You moved feverishly, clasping your hands behind his neck, your tits rubbing against his chest and your tongue caressing the roof of his mouth and then seeking out his as if it were a matter of life or death.

That night Joel laid down his weapons. He was the one who was defenseless before you.

______________________________

“Hey” you coo in your little bird voice “where were you?”

“I was in the bathroom”

“Mmmmm come here, I'm cold” you wrap your leg around his waist and press yourself against his chest.

Six months have passed since the night he kissed you, what you wanted had become his priority, even if you didn't ask for anything. At least not anything material. Just to have him by your side.

He lies down on the bed on his side and you press your head to his chest “you're always so warm”

Your left leg is wrapped over his thigh, your body blends so well with his, it feels like you've always belonged there.

He could spend every day of his life like this, lying in bed with you in his arms.

You’re making out for what it feels like hours, your kisses going from chaste and tender to demanding and needy, getting sloppier and deeper.

Your hips grind against his, seeking friction, asking for attention.

The lack of oxygen is starting to have the better of Joel, his mind is fuzzy and all he can think about is you whining and panting in his mouth, filling up the quiet room with your labored breath.

Your voice is a litany echoing in his ears, a prayer made of sighs and moans “Joel, please”

“I'm here, sweetie, tell me what you want” he softly urges.

“I want…I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me until I’m boneless . Please” you plead

“Such a hungry little thing” he smiles before leaving a bite where your neck and shoulder joints met.

“I still have to wrap my head around the fact that you want this wrinkled old cock so much” he mumbles

Your voice is deep and husky as you continue to rock frantically on his leg and you slap him on the shoulder protesting “It’s not old. it’s thick and hot and perfect and my pussy needs it.”

He chuckles, surprised that you still have an attitude after all the grinding and making out.

“She wants it that bad, huh?” He whispers and you purr “yeah. She needs all of you, please”

“Oh baby, she’s weeping all over my leg, how can i resist” he smiles as he kisses you again sucking gently on your lower lip and then moving on your neck, licking over your pulse point.

He makes you lie down on the bed, gently crushing you with his body.

As he continues on his path paved with kisses and little bites he growls “Spread your legs for me, honey, let me feel you”

He lowers a hand, your soaked cotton panties sticky and messy under his touch. “Mmm how did she get so wet every single time”

“It’s because of you… she feels so empty right now”

“Damn, you’re so pretty when you’re begging for my old cock”

Your voice almost sounds like a cry, eagerness all over your face, your hands fisting his bed t-shirt so tight.

He’s intoxicated with the way you desperately demand to be full of him.

“Fuck me, Joel, fuck me hard”

Nothing exists anymore except your quivering body beneath him as he keeps hovering his fingers over your cunt and tasting your skin.

He doesn't even have the patience to take off your panties, he tears it, a large hole opens up on the front.

You whine loudly, a mixture of surprise and hunger.

He pulls down his boxers and let slide his cock over your clit wetting it, shivering at the sensation of your warm juices coating his shaft.

He usually licks you first, makes sure you have at least a couple of orgasms from his mouth before he enters you but he can’t wait. Not today.

He never really felt in control with you, he let you invade every cell of his body without even thinking about it.

Between him and Tess there was something left unsaid.

She had never asked him to feel what she felt, and he had no intention of bringing up the subject.

Tess was like him, bold because no one had to notice how deeply wounded she was, a woman of few words, she inspired respect and fear in others even more than he did.

They had bonded out of necessity and then discovered they were more similar than they thought.

He loved Tess but couldn't put it into words, he followed her around like a guard dog barking at anyone who threatened her.

It was the only way for him to show how much he cared, he couldn't make a relationship official when he was still trying to heal from losing Sarah.

When you stepped into his life he was even more hurt but he was still someone born to protect and the quiet coexistence with you had unleashed something in him that he couldn't oppose.

Before he could realize it, you were already beating hard in the center of his heart and it was as if the words were elbowing their way out of his chest.

He has to do it now, sink into you before it's too late, before time passes inexorably without leaving him anything to hold in his hands.

He puts the tip in.

Your glassy eyes are locked in his, overflowing with lust.

He slides another inch into you, your muscles clench around his cock and another moan escape your lips.

He has to hold on to all the willpower he has left not to shoot a load inside you right away.

He's slamming into you, trying to keep his mouth in check for once but yours is running wildly, he's never heard you like this.

“Holy fuck it’s so good just- fuck - just split me in two”

“God, baby, that dirty mouth of yours is going to drive me crazy”

“I can’t stop - nnnngh - the way you make me feel - fuck - it’s unreal”

When he reaches your soft spot you’re a bundle of whines “oh God oh fuck it feels so good”

He feels sweat beading on his forehead, his breath short, his strength faltering, it’s like fighting against his own body and it’s a fight he’s not willing to lose.

His lips latch onto your nipple, he tries to breathe deeply through his nose, so maybe you won't hear the rattle that crackles in his throat.

“Fuck. Yes, suck it, Joel. God, your mouth is so damn perfect” He doesn’t have a clue why you’re so wild today but he feels like drunk on you.

And he feels vulnerable, even with your nipple gently trapped between his teeth.

He sinks more, his balls slamming against your ass, so deep into you.

He hasn't shed a tear since he lost Sarah, he thought he had cried them all, but he looks at you like this now, disheveled, raw and longing beneath his body and he feels them stinging at the corners of his eyes for a totally different reason.

Happiness.

He is like snow, hard, cold, inhospitable and you are like the sun that melts him, inviting, comforting, warm.

His love for you is undeniable. Indisputable. It boils in his veins, it cracks his breath and makes his bones weaker. He never felt so much painful need of belonging to someone before in a romantic way.

His old body is aching but at the same time he feels like he has just gained a new sense of being alive in this wrecked world.

You're like a little beast writhing beneath him, clinging to his back, your nails scratching him and your mouth drinking from his skin, his neck, while your pussy sucks him in, taking everything he has.

Your hair is plastered to your forehead, scattered on the pillow beneath you, his hypnotized eyes don't miss a change in expression on your face transfigured by desire.

He has never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

His cock pulses inside you, wrapped in your hot, tight, dripping pussy. “God, you’re always so perfect for me,” he sighs. His chest grinds against you, his heartbeat now in his throat.

Your skin is salty, smells like the rose shower gel he brought you last week. He smelled it and your face came alive before his eyes as if you were there. Tommy had to shake him by the shoulder to try to wake him from the trance he had fallen into.

You're always too much for his old, broken heart.

“Come inside me, Joel,” you beg.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs, dazed.

“YES. Please Joel, I want you to fill me up, I want to feel every drop of you, I want—fuck—I want your seed all the way inside my cunt, I want to feel it dripping on my skin”

You've never let him cum inside you before, he's marked your tits, your tummy, your back, once your face by mistake while you were milking him with your hand.

Never your cunt.

Your legs wrapped around his waist push him against you.

“Please, my pussy is yours only, yours only, feed her” your strangled sobs and your begging send him over the edge, he can’t hold back any longer.

Your clouded eyes are locked on his, sending shivers all over his body.

He does what you ask, exploding inside you in long spurts of sperm, painting your walls that tighten around his length as if they wanted to nestle him inside you forever.

His hand moves down to your clit, rubbing it frantically "come baby, come for me" and you cry out your orgasm almost instantly, your hips rolling against his, your breasts bouncing with your ragged breathing.

He pulls out of you and smiles, looking down, long white, slimy streaks sliding lazily out of you. You smile back, bringing a hand between your thighs.

You bring a finger to your mouth, as if you had never tasted it before, you spread it on your lower lip and then lick your finger clean “what does it taste like?” he asks without even thinking.

“Try it” you suggest offering your finger to him “lick”.

Joel sticks out his tongue uncertainly, darting it slightly, he pauses for a moment and then gives a more decisive lick “It’s salty. It tastes like…moss?” “Yes. It’s good” you tell him softly.

Good is not the word he would use but you seem convinced, so he doesn't comment further.

He takes you in his arms as you calm down, you bury your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

He kisses your temple, then your forehead and thinks that if you didn't exist he would have already given up everything, his entire life.

"Kitten" he drawl and you hum in response “Yes, Joel?”

The words had been jostling in his throat for a week but he'd kept pushing them back.

Having these feelings at his age, with everything he had been through, is terrifying.

Yet he could no longer lie to himself.

You crawled into his soul so easily.

He belongs to you. For all the days he has left. He wants nothing more from life.

“I love you”

It's the first time he's said it to you.

You look up, your doe eyes surprised and sparkling in the morning dawn that faintly enters through the window.

You are speechless for a moment, joy radiating across your face. Your mouth curves into the most beautiful smile he has ever seen.

“I love you too”

Your fingers tickle the nape of his neck and bury themselves in his hair as he kisses you.

“I love you, Joel” you repeat through the dance of your lips “I love you”

[lumilasi]

I figured since I have the whole merman Silco AU going on I should draw something with him for mermay, but, uhh....the whole "merman" theme got lost in translation at some point, since I ended up drawing this scene from the Lightkeeper instead lol

(His rainbow highlights he has in this AU are fun to make btw)

The scene this is based on:

When morning arrived, the storm had mostly passed, with bits of sunlight peeking through the cloud covering. He felt…..very warm, even warmer than he was used to resting in the bed. As Silco manages to clear his mind from the haze of sleep, he soon finds the source of the excessive warmth.

He wasn’t alone in the bed for a change, draped over Vander’s large body while the man slept. The blanket was kicked on the floor in a heap, but the Baron’s body emitted so much warmth it didn’t matter Silco’s backside was exposed to the cool air. There was a large hand cupping his rear, and Silco almost felt embarrassed about it, namely given he had no real bottom to speak of.

He was still wearing Vander’s shirt, but it was hiked up with another large hand resting on his bare back, and Silco felt his face gain even more heat once it registers Vander wasn’t wearing his shirt. When had he ditched it last night? Silco couldn’t remember; his mind was still hazy from sleep, and the warmth engulfing his body didn’t help either. Vander’s blood was also invading his nostrils with such force Silco was struggling not to bite down on the heated skin beneath him, his head resting right above Vander’s heartbeat.

"Mornin,’ kitten.”

Silco freezes and lifts his head up to meet Vander’s gaze, a faint amused smile already spreading across the man’s features.

"…..Why do you insist on being half naked?”

"Someone was really eager to swim under my clothes as he slept, so I figured might as well ditch it.”

Silco’s face flares bright red at that and he hides it back against Vander’s chest, feeling utterly mortified by that. He couldn’t quite remember it, but knew instinctively he was telling the truth. Even as a kid he’d had the tendency to really cling to sources of warmth - usually Sevika - to the point she’d sometimes threaten to throw him into an underwater volcano.

Vander’s low laugh reverberates throughout his body, the hand on his back rubbing circles down his spine. It was hard to stay upset over this when that touch threatened to melt him into an oily slick stain on Vander’s chest.

"T’was cute, don’t worry. I’m used to people wanting to use me as a personal heater anyway; happens when you're an uncle to two real clingy little girls.”

Silco doesn’t respond, just lies there and enjoys the warmth. He’d have to go back into the cold waters and his isolation sooner or later, but for now he’d take every drop of warmth he would be given.

[prettiestlovergirl]

STARVING

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; ditzy, princess, kook! reader; oral (m. receiving); dacryphilia; dom! jj; praise kink; light spit swapping; semi-public; oral fixation! reader.

a/n: as an oral fixation girlie myself... i really made this for me lol. writing ✨heals✨. this is a shorter one n i might delete later, but for now.... enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

"you know, ma, i think you're a sugar addict." jj informed you, watching as you unwrapped and popped another jolly rancher into your mouth.

the two of you had been snuggled up on your living room couch together, watching this romantic movie you had practically begged him to watch with you.

you'd given him your best pout and batted your long lashes at him, he was in no position to turn you down. how could he tell you no when you'd asked him so nicely?

besides, as much as the movie uninterested him, it still gave him an excuse to hold and massage your tits under the shirt you'd stolen from him, and that was enough of a selling point in itself.

"nuh uh!" you pouted, shaking your head as you crumpled the wrapper up and tossed it back into the bag of jolly ranchers you had beside you.

"baby, you've got a giant half-empty bag of candy right beside you. you're an addict." he smirked, squeezing your boobs gently to make you shiver while you continued to pout.

"i am not! i just like to have things in my mouth." you explained, shaking your head and trying to turn back to the movie. jj's smirk only grew, you had no idea the door you'd just opened for yourself.

"oh yeah? that so?" he smirked, his hands slipping out from under your shirt and gliding down to your waist. "i can definitely give you something to put in your mouth."

"jayj, wait, i wanna watch the movie!" you whined, strawberry jolly rancher swirling around your mouth as he fixed you on his lap, your head still turned to try and focus on the tv.

he started pressing kisses to your neck, suddenly far more interested in you than he ever would have been in that movie. "c'mon, ma. just wanna help, give you something extra good to put in your mouth." he grinned.

you continued to pout, but it was really no use trying to fight it. jj was persistent and you were his little, eager to please princess. you'd do just about anything for him n sucking his cock during a movie? not the craziest thing he'd asked you to do.

"mmm, fine." you nodded, sighing with contentment when his lips pressed against an extra sweet spot along your neck. "but you owe me!" you reminded, turning your head and tapping your lip gloss covered lips for a kiss.

he chuckled but happily obliged you, groaning at your strawberry flavored saliva filling his senses. you made out like this for a while and when you eventually pulled away, you realized his skilled tongue had stolen your jolly rancher.

"hey!" you frowned, looking back at him as he started helping you get down onto your knees. he swirled the jolly rancher around his mouth, chuckling at your new little pout.

"so dramatic today, mamas. really gotta work on this attitude of yours." he tutted, shaking his head. "no! no, 'm sorry, i'll stop pouting." you stated quickly, your thighs still tender from the last time he worked on fixing your attitude.

"that's what i thought." he grinned, rubbing his thumb along your lower lip to smudge your lip gloss around your chin as you finally sat up.

you pulled his shorts n boxers down his legs, nuzzling yourself in between them as your hand wrapped around his already angry n swollen cock.

you held him at the base, lifting it up and kitten licked up the entire underside of his cock. jj groaned, his hands reaching down and bringing your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, so it'd stay out of your way.

you let your nails scrape over one of the larger veins as you licked over his leaking tip, the salty precum a delicious contrast to the sweetness of the jolly rancher flavoring that had lingered on your tongue.

you went on teasing for a while, but once his grip started to tighten around your hair, you finally relented. you slowly took more of him into your mouth, going until you started to gag.

you sucked and swirled your tongue around what fit into your mouth, your other hand rubbing and massaging everything that couldn't fit inside.

"mm, c'mon mamas, i know you can take more than that." he grunted, his eyes happily fixed on the view of your glossy lips wrapped around his cock.

you huffed dramatically, pretty eyes rolling, but you did just what he asked. you placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself before forcing yourself to take more of him in.

you loudly gagged around his length, but you didn't stop. your eyes watered immensely, blurring your vision, but you didn't care. jj's groans and praises spurred you on.

he really just couldn't take his eyes off of you, you just looked so fucking perfect like this. as much as he loved burying his face between your thighs, nothing beat the view of your water eyes and drooled soaked mouth gagging on his cock.

"that's it, that's my perfect girl. fuck, yes." he moaned, closing his eyes and relishing in the loud, wet noises that blocked out the tv in the background.

you gagged and slurped up and down his cock, coating it entirely in your strawberry flavored saliva. his cock started to twitch in your mouth, signaling he was close, so you brought your hand up and started gently massaging his balls.

"fuck, ma, 'm gonna cum, where do you want it?" he grunted, biting his lip as his hand held your hair even tighter. you used your free hand to tap your lower lip.

he forced your head to stay down as he bucked his hips up against your mouth, fucking your face momentarily before he finally came down your throat, painting the inside of your mouth white.

you finally pulled off, panting and gasping for air, your tongue hanging out. as you pulled off, you left a glossy sheen all over his cock, making you giggle softly.

"can we restart the movie now?"

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[giglio-nero-e-bianco]

COTL Deathmaid AU

The Lamb's cult has grown to be it's own kingdom, the cult is known by everyone on land and the knowledge that the former Bishops are not only part of it but they're also the most loyal members has angered quite a few heretics.

There's many families that dedicated their whole existence and generations to serving the Bishops, so they have a deep hatred towards the Lamb, they think that they did something to their Bishops to make them so loyal and if they destroy the cult then everything will go back to the way it was before.

So there's many heretic attacks to the cult whenever the Lamb is out on crusades, what they don't count in is the fact that there's someone in charge on the cult when the leader's out: The high priest and the Lamb's husband... Dressed as a maid.

This throws heretics for a loop, they think less of him and attack confidently.

But you see, Narinder is the cult's maid, he's in charge of cleanup, housekeeping, he has to clean the grounds from the disasters the cultists make, from caught spies and from heretics that attack his home, I mean, who else but the maid is going to scrub the blood on the floor left by the heretics before the Lamb comes back?

Here's a few details of the AU:

While it was the Lamb's idea for Nari to wear the maid dress, Narinder is the one who modified it and made it shorter, he says it's to make it more practical, but deep down he knows he just felt bonita in the dress.

The Lamb also gifts a lot of gold to Narinder, but he only uses it on special occasions, wearing only his earrings on a daily basis.

Narinder fell in love when he was still a god, and while angry at the Lamb's betrayal, he still said yes to the marriage proposal given to him the second he appeared in the cult.

The night their daughter Luci's egg was conceived, it was Nari who laid the egg... Even tho he wasn't the bottom that night. But you'll catch the Lamb dead before them going through labor, lol (something something god power so we'll do it like seahorses)

Also, they want to try for another baby in the future, maybe the next time they'll get a little kitten or a baby lamb, but don't get them wrong, they love their daughter with all their soul.

The crown is just a tsundere tbh

They're the one who wanted Narinder and Lamb together in the first place, they actually finds them adorable and loves their little shitten (no one touch her, that's their niece, back off), but they find it funnier to make them angry.

The crown loves to mess with both, third wheels when they start to get all romantic in front of them and often interrupts them to ruin the moment, but when they feel like it, they'll just stand back and see the lovely couple in front of them, maybe they deserve it from time to time.

The Goat basically lives with them, they destroyed their own universe seeking for revenge, only to find out after killing everything that that wasn't gonna bring their kin back, so they went to find what they were missing, traveling to another universe to find this answer.

Only to find their alter version making out with their own version of TOWW.

They lived in the cult for a while, living the results of what their life would've been like if they had taken other choices... And before they knew, they found comfort, familiarity, calmness, they even found love in this version of Shamura, can you believe that? Shamura! That spider was the Goat's TOWW, but here? They were a far kinder version of his own Shamura, just as stunning, a bit easier for their mind to get lost in memories, but they found out that they didn't mind holding their hand while helping them remember.

Shamura is just a silly little guy / gn.

They love to tease their siblings, they always win on board games, they love to read to the kids on the nursery, they show their love to the Goat by trapping them in spider web.

But if you see them acting weird, don't follow them, they may be trapped in a memory of their Bishop days, just let their siblings handle it.

All it took for Leshy to fall in love was a flower, Theon was new to the cult, so Leshy being down bad offered to be the one show him around the place. He was the one who offered Theon to be part of the gardeners and taught him everything he knows about plants. Leshy fell first, Theon fell harder. You'll have a better chance to find Leshy not making a mess than to find the cat not following him around everywhere.

Also, Leshy's flower is indicative of his mood and health.

They have their own abomination baby (Put that Transmasc Leshy drug in my veins)

Heket's been dating Forneus since she was still a Bishop, but hid this from her siblings because she knew they were going to try and embarrass her in front of her wife at any given chance. However they had to take a break when Shamura took Aym and Baal away, Forneus didn't blame Heket for it, but it was hard to look at her.

After the Lamb resurrected the kittens, they dragged her to Forneus to make up and make out, and so they gave it another chance. Heket is a good step-mom to Aym and Baal, she's the parent that stepped up frfr.

Heket rules the kitchen, that's her domain, not even the Lamb has a say there, don't test her or you'll be tomorrow's dinner.

Kallamar, dear Kallamar, a total diva, he loves his jewelry and putting some make-up on when the day looks like it'll be a chill one. Has 6 spouses and he makes sure to give love to every single one of them, he doesn't even have a favorite! I mean, just because Witness Astaroth gets more time and gifts than the rest of spouses doesn't mean they're the favorite, of course not!

Refuses to date cats because he's special, unique and out of the mold that his younger siblings are.

Also, Ratau and Red Fox are ex-boyfriends because I can't live without some toxic yaoi, even less if it's old men yaoi.

[helianyx]

trust exercise -

pairing: sylus x mc word count: 1,106 summary: Sylus makes a very simple request with a few not-so-simple underlying implications, and MC tries to fit another piece of the puzzle that is 'Sylus' into place… tags/warnings: more lighthearted, conversational exchanges from me, developing relationship, canon compliant a/n: I was mistaken this was actually my first little fic/test at writing LADS that I forgot about lol. Just a very small one-shot inspired by some of Sylus's dialogue at the café when he's wearing his Unrestrained outfit. P.S. I forbid any use of my writing in any form of generative or AI training, thank you!

(ao3 link)

“Hand me your phone.” 

Sitting in the relative silence of the cafe, the command came out of the blue. She arched a brow at her companion, lounging in the seat beside her with a travel guide on his lap and looking back at her- ‘Expectantly’ was not the right word, not quite. When Sylus gave a command he ‘expected’ it to be followed, to such a degree ‘expectation’ never really factored in, it was a step of any exchange that could be glossed over. 

That wasn’t always the case with them so much, but all the same the muted expression on his face was quietly patient. He always seemed to be thinking ten steps ahead - and that was probably a gross underestimation. In fact, she was sure if she suggested that out loud he’d scoff and feign offense. 

Piecing together the puzzle of who Sylus was had given her this much insight at least. In this blip of a moment between them, as she stared at him in a brief stupor over his sudden ‘request’, he had already anticipated it. He knew she would be bewildered, possibly deny him, ask questions. And who wouldn’t? A phone these days held a lot of personal information, you didn’t just hand over your contact and financial information, your private conversations and what-all-else to just anyone. 

Of course, she had little to no doubt that if the boss of Onychinus wanted, he could easily get whatever information he wanted, so…

So underneath the simple request was a veiled test: Do you trust me? And in making the request: I want to earn your trust. 

But the ‘blip of a moment’ was just a breath too long apparently, and Sylus gave a low chuckle, smirking as he tilted his head, curling his fingers coaxingly.

“You’re overthinking it, sweetie.” 

“With you, I highly doubt that.” She sighed and shook her head, but tapped in her passcode and handed it over to him. Briefly she wondered if he already knew the code, but maybe she’d sleep easier if she didn’t know the answer to that. 

Resting her elbow on the armrest and her chin in her palm, she watched him as he languidly tapped at her screen, unable to see what he was actually doing. His expression gave away nothing, though - no hint of whether he was perusing her conversations or camera roll. No sign he was finding anything amusing, or dissatisfying in one way or another. 

“If I ask ‘What are you doing?’ I suppose you’ll just tell me…” Her words fell off, and like a gentleman he picked them up.

“Patience, kitten.” He drawled with a smirk, crimson gaze flitting up at her briefly before returning to whatever he was doing. 

It was another piece of the puzzle she was toying with, figuring out where it fit. Once, she might have expected him to be the sort to dislike assumptions being made about his character, or it being suggested she found him ‘predictable’. (Not that she’d ever be foolish enough to believe that.) 

Instead he found such suggestions amusing most of the time, and beneath that, if she got particularly close to the truth… It seemed he really liked it. Being seen. Being known. It surprised her, and it only surprised her more that she found it endearing. 

And it felt good to know that those efforts towards understanding weren’t for naught. Once she got past another of his walls or defenses, he didn’t push her away or deny her, but welcomed her in. 

With a quiet, contented sigh, she found herself smiling as she watched him. Actually, come to think of it…. She should have asked to look at his phone! She’d been so lost in her thoughts it didn’t occur to her and now she was kicking herself. 

But just as she was about to jump on that opportunity he finally turned her phone towards her, showing her a new screen display with a map on it. A small red icon indicated…? She took the phone and squinted at the lines on the map and the names of the roads. 

“Is this…?” Looking up at him, he was running the pad of his thumb over the tips of his other fingers, nonchalant as could be. Then he tapped his index finger against the necklace he was wearing.

“The necklace's locator has been modified and is now bound to your device. You'll get my coordinates when it's necessary.”

For a stunned second she felt like all of the walls and defenses in her brain were entirely obliterated. Or maybe it was just her mind itself that was blown. By now she had zero suspicion he would lie to her, let alone about something so out of the blue like this. 

When they’d first gotten involved with each other she’d often make a list of possibilities a mile long for what devious, underhanded schemes he might have had in store for everything he said or did. After all, he said himself he made countless plans for every possibility, but at the very least, where she was concerned, those schemes had never truly harmed or undermined her. In fact nowadays it seemed he actually schemed for her benefit.

She wondered if she admitted to him she’d actually trimmed those lists of suspicions down, whether he’d condescendingly scold her, or give her that rare, genuine smile. 

Letting himself, the leader of Onychinus, be tracked like this… And… for what? Her peace of mind? She wanted to say she didn’t need something like this, but somehow it really did make her happy. He asked for her trust and she gave it to him, and he returned it with interest. 

Though her mind did hitch on the last part of what he’d said.

“And… when it’s not necessary?” 

“Then you won’t.” 

“So I’ll know when you’re getting into trouble.” 

“That’s more my way of keeping you -out- of trouble.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, looking down at the little red marker sitting beside her in the cafe. 

“You know, I’m pretty sure most girls would start having trust issues with a caveat like that.” Where is he? Why won’t he tell me? Surely he’s off with some other girl. Haha, it was almost laughable to imagine, because it seemed so utterly absurd with Sylus. 

And what a startling realization that was. 

“But you know better.” Never a question, a statement as confident and unfaltering as ever with him. Lately, she found that confidence contagious.

She laughed, and then that laughter trickled off into a fond sigh as she smiled at him. “I know better.”

[heliological]

2024 vid recs

just some vids I saw and liked in 2024! these are sorted by fandom but not otherwise in any order

Interview with the Vampire

washing machine heart by @a-story-is-true - yayyyyy armand he has every problem <3 this really deftly stitches together key imagery from the show, love the ending shots of them getting further apart all lined up together

nobody by @idontwikeit - two mitski iwtv ones why not!! it's simply correct for claudia....ikuhara quote. needing to be chosen just once. etc

why don't you have wings to fly with? by @frigidwife - god lol i wrote the blurb above this immediately before hitting play on this one and i did NOT remember what the song was. rip claudia you would have loved nanami from revolutionary girl utena!!!!! for real though this one is excellent please watch it

Revolutionary Girl Utena

doll parts by @amoralmorel - oh boy. oh man. utena fans are too good at amvs. this one uses shots in some ways that feel novel which is impressive given how long this fandom has been making amvs

good luck babe by ombrose - I might have googled "good luck babe utena" to find this. I like that it switches povs and the first lyric match for "shoot another shot" made me laugh

st. bernard by @astrateiaa - animatic based on a touga/saionji fic. oof ouch. it's all traditionally painted and super pretty

Dungeon Meshi

KISS ME DUNGEON LORD by @sevenangrybees - i have watched this about a hundred times, it's so dense with the stuff i love about dungeon meshi

Rabbit Heart by @maribelles - i like all of this a lot but especially the falin section at the beginning!

Fish in a Birdcage by @gerrykeay - siblinggssssss also I like the way this uses comics panels

Mob Psycho 100

saint bernard by @eternalgirlscout - mob psycho vid of all time frankly!!

The Locked Tomb

LOST KITTEN by @scalierpepper - obv the core eyes concept is strong but the lyric matches leading up to it are really good too!

Silo

Same As It Ever Was by @marahsarie - little known fact the talking heads actually wrote once in a lifetime as a prediction of the events of silo on apple tv

Feel Better by @ohvienna - I have recced this before and I will rec it again!! it's disproportionately responsible for getting me to watch silo and now that I've seen it the vid hits so good. the editing rules also

[spooky-bunnys]

Hello! May i request haikyuu with a black cat m!reader? Maybe a tsundere type...oh and also can it be written with Kenma, Suna, and Hinata? (You can add other characters if you wish !)

Thanks!

I'm not sure how to write for Tsundere types but I tried. Hope you Enjoy!

(Name) sighed as the air blew in through the bus window. It was time for another Volleyball training camp. But this time was different. Especially considering all of his boyfriends. We're finally gonna be together again.

That's right boyfriendS as in more then one. He was already at school with one. But now that the other two were gonna be there....(Name) huffed loudly. Catching a certain someone's attention.

"Hey babe. Wanna see the picture I just took of Atsumu?" Suna sat beside his smaller boyfriend and pulled him close. (Name) tried scooting away, but his boyfriend wouldn't let him.

Atsumu made a dying animal noise and everyone laughed. Wel except (Name)'s older brother. "Rin what have I said about your blackmailing?" He didn't hesitate to answer. "Not to tell you about it. Sorry Kita."

Everyone laughed again as Atsumu immediately threw himself on the couple. "Oi! (Name)! Get ya boyfriend under control!" (Name) flinched under the weight and tried ousting the male off.

"Rin get this sangwoo ass bee off me!" Atsumu yelped loudly as he was shoved into the floor. "Oi Barry he's taken remember and besides, you know the rules. Don't bother (Name) or Kita will make you run laps."

A shadow covered Atsumu. He slowly looked up meeting the cold eyes of his captain. "Sumu. 30 laps when we get to Nekoma." (Name) rolled his eyes and looked out the window. He grabbed his headphones and plugged them into his phone.

He silently raised a headphone to the male beside him. "Rin I'm gonna listen to music." He didn't get a response but felt the male take the other headphone. As (Name) turned on the music his eyelids got heavy.

Suna felt something hit his shoulder and smiled softly. (Name) was sleeping softly on his shoulder. Which was rare since (Name) didn't like PDA. Suna took a picture and sent it to a groupchat. The groupchat had the other two boyfriends.

~

The I love (Name) ♡ Groupchat

Sleepy Fox: sent a picture

Gamer Kitten: saved a picture

Solar Energy: saved a picture

Gamer Kitten: wow he's actually asleeping on you? on the team bus? how tired is he?

Sleepy Fox: apparently according to his brother, (Name)'s nightmares are back

Solar Energy: THATS NOT GOOD!

Gamer Kitten: Shoyo your caps lock is on again

Solar Energy: oh my bad. but seriously that's not good. is he okay?

Sleepy Goz: dunno but I'll make sure sumu stays away from him s he can sleep. bastard flopped on (Name) early. his brother assigned atsumu 30 laps when we arrive lol

Gamer Kitten: only 30? I would've given the bee 50

Solar Energy: isn't that a bit mean Kenma?

Gamer Kitten: no :)

~

Suna closed his phone and sighed, looking over at (Name). His kissed his forehead and layed back. Maybe he can catch some sleep before they make it to the training camp.

(Name) woke up when the bus stopped. He raised his head and yawned. Rubbing his eyes. He looked through the window spotting the Nekoma high school.

(Name) turned seeing a sleeping Rin. He gave a small smile. He took a picture but before he put the phone away, it was snatched by the no longer sleeping male. Suna gave him a sleepy grin and a week before pocketing the phone, and walking off the bus.

(Name) blushed and frown, before quickly followed the male wanting his phone back. Once off the bus though, (Name) was almost taken down by a ball of energy. Or in this case. (Name)'s youngest boyfriend Hinata Shoyo.

(Name) groaned loudly at the impact but didn't say anything. Cause he knew when Hinata came, his other boyfriend wasn't far behind him. (Name) felt more arms wrap around him, before feeling a head snuggling into his back.

Ah yeah. His more quiet boyfriend. Kozume Kenma. "Welcome (Name)!" (Name) flinched at the volume of the voice. Kenma who felt the flinch quickly calmed the other male. Suna who was watching from the side quickly got jealous.

"Oi! Come on you three we got a training camp remember?" (Name) tried to walk to the gym but didn't move. He hated how all three of his boyfriends were stronger then him. So he did the only thing he could do.

"If you guys let me go and go to the gym I MIGHT let you guys sleep with Rin and me tonight." Just like that the other two were gone and quickly making their way to the gym. The older Kita quietly laughed at his brothers misfortune. But even with the glare sent his way.

He knew (Name) was happy, and that he loved them very much.

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: 4.7K Notable Tags: Dom/Sub AU, Heavy Power Imbalance, Non-Con (from characters other than Steve and in the past, no major detail), Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Sex Trafficking, Human Trafficking, Submissive Auction, Angst With a Happy Ending, Depressive Thoughts, Depressed Bucky Barnes, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Crying, Subspace, Blowjob, Face Fucking, Orgasm Denial, Cock Cage, Size Kink, Size Difference A/N: This was originally supposed to be published in the last Kinktober I participated in under my Age Difference day. I've only read one story that was in the Dom/Sub AU and I was so taken with it, it's all I thought about as I wrote this. It's a universe where, kind of like Omegaverse, everyone has a designation of Dominant or Submissive. I didn't dive into it too heavily, but I left it totally up for my interpretation so...don't mind me lol. Compared to what I usually write, this one is kind of twisted and dark. Please read the tags and don't continue reading if it makes you uncomfy. ❤️

Read here on Ao3.

The lights in this room are much more dim than the ones in the showcase room they’ve just performed in. He feels the line of his shoulders relax at the sight, be it merely a smidgen, heart still hammering against his rib cage. His limbs continue to tremble unpleasantly, his head pounding, his hole wet and aching to the point of pain. 

He is used to this happening when he’s used without completion, climax other than his own being robbed from him, when he isn’t used for his purpose. He does as they’ve trained him though— he ignores his tender emotions and his body’s biological signs of unfulfilled submission. 

Bucky barely has half the mind to take in his surroundings, to lift his chin and glance around the room he’s quickly being shuffled into. It almost looks like a study, someone’s personal office or library. It’s deceivingly cozy with its maroon walls and moody lighting, a fireplace lit and in use on one end of the room, bookshelves lining the opposite wall. He’s slow to take in the bed in the center of the room, one that seems entirely out of place yet perfect in this setting, large and cloud-like and luxurious. 

The exhaustive ache that Bucky feels deep down to the center of his being yearns to curl up in the center of that bed like a kitten, to not be roused for hours on end. Instead he’s ordered to his knees on the rug next to it, the command settling unpleasantly on the nape of his neck like they always do. 

He looks down at himself, his nude and flushed form, eyes locking onto his hands bound and curled together in his lap, and he wonders how this is where he ended up in life. 

“Listen to me,” the handler tells him, voice unharsh yet still grating, the command one he’s forced to listen to. Bucky’s never enjoyed his designation, has rarely ever been comfortable being a Sub, but these moments are the ones he hates the most. He despises not having a choice, has a special kind of hatred for being commanded against his will, his body listening before his mind can fight against it. But he’s quick to respond, quick to mumble, “Yes, Sir,” because that’s what they’ve spent the last three months training Bucky to do. 

“You no longer belong to us,” the Dominant handler states without emotion, and even given the circumstances, relief kicks up into Bucky’s chest. “Your personal possessions are in this bag, your Dom will handle everything else once your bond is initiated. If it is initiated.” Bucky flinches. “You understand the reputation we hold here and the standards we’ve instilled in you, yes?” 

Bucky bites out another, “Yes, Sir,” before the handler is done moving purposefully around the room, coming to stand in front of Bucky. He doesn’t raise his head, just as he’s been taught.

“Good. I advise you to keep those in mind once you leave this place. You haven’t been the easiest Sub to deal with, James. I’d hate for your Dom to send you back here because you did not meet expectations. He won you fair and square with the highest bid; don’t make him regret that.” 

The severity of the situation Bucky’s been put in, the past few months, hits him in the solar plexus when he hears these words. He isn’t sure why his brain decides to catch up in this moment, why he decides to feel the weight of the past weeks here at the feet of his handler in the very last moment they’ll see each other, but he feels his chest constrict painfully. His hole aches in waves, mouth watering in preparation for what it thinks is coming, desperate, and Bucky bites back his whimper when he feels his dick wish to fill out. 

He never gets what he wants, what he needs, is always left feeling unfulfilled and purposeless. They’ve had to increase his dosage of meds they give him each day as a result of how affected he has become from touch after touch leaving him emptier and emptier. A Sub shouldn’t live like this yet here he is, having been picked up off the streets and trained to be the best of the best on such evil touches. 

He’s going to be so fucked up because of this place. 

Having been put on display in every possible way in the performance room during his shining moment, he wonders if this is the last time he’ll feel so used and hollow. Will his new Dom continue to leave him feeling so empty? Will he make Bucky do things he doesn’t want to do, use him against his will, take advantage of him and his designation? He feels so low in this moment he can’t see anything but that happening, of being owned and living this life of misery. Surely Bucky won’t survive. 

His handler doesn’t even say goodbye, doesn’t acknowledge Bucky as he leaves, and Bucky hates how much that hurts. He’s once again betrayed by his biological needs, betrayed by the intrinsic need to please and to obey, and even given the piss poor treatment they’ve put him through here, Bucky wishes his handler would leave him with more positive words, with the praise he so desperately craves. 

When he hears the door close behind the Dom, he can’t help the whimper that bubbles up and out of his mouth. 

His eyes don’t leave the floor because no one has told him he can raise his head, and even though he no longer belongs to this establishment, he can’t will his inner submissive to look up. Instead, his eyes lock onto the cage around his dick. He despises this thing. Before he was lured in with promises of a warm meal and an even warmer bed he had only heard of cock cages being utilized in either the most severe of relationships or for fun, no in between. He had never worn one until his training. 

He hates it, has tried taking it off on his own multiple times before his harshest of training had set in. He hasn’t come once during his time here, can barely remember what his own climax feels like. 

“Your pleasure no longer belongs to you, James. Your orgasms are not your own; they belong to your Dom.”

It’s ironic yet devastating to Bucky that all of this training, all of this pain, was pointless. Bucky could be a good Sub for someone, he knows it. He could give the right someone all of the things his training had brought out without the misery he’s gone through for these people. He could give his mind, body, and soul easily over to the right person. This line of thinking shifts into the only thing that brought him comfort each night; the only thing that helped him get the little sleep that he did— 

His Daddy. 

Well, hopefully his Daddy. 

If he’s the perfect man for Bucky, he’ll be his Daddy. 

And his knight in shining armor, this perfect Dom, his Daddy, would come one day to take him away from this hell. That’s what he dreamt about each night, that his Dom, strong enough for the both of them, big enough to easily cradle Bucky’s not entirely petite form close to his chest, would whisk him away from this place and give him everything he could ever need. His Dom that can teach him how to cook his favorite meals for him, his Dom that is patient, his Dom that is proud of Bucky. Every night when he needed comfort to sleep, this man would be the comfort Bucky needed to finally rest. 

Bucky wonders what his Dom is going to be like, what he’s going to look like, but most of all Bucky wonders if he is going to like Bucky. Surely he is attracted to Bucky if he got into a bidding war with someone else for Bucky, if he paid damn near a million dollars for Bucky’s bond, for his life. There is a sliver of hope that the highest bidder’s intentions are pure.

Bucky is so exhausted, right down to the bone, that he doesn’t even startle when he hears the door to the room open once more. He doesn’t lift his head, as he’s been taught, but this time he does it because of the onslaught of nerves that wrack his body. This is it, this is his new Dom, the one he’ll have for life, the one whose bond will be initiated tonight. With one last unmated deep breath, Bucky sends a wish out into the universe for his Dom to be kind, for him to show Bucky the love he’s never been given in life, to love Bucky. 

The sound of steady footsteps reach his ears at almost the same moment a sense of calm washes over Bucky’s being. It hits him in waves, drips down his spine like warm honey, a sensation so pleasurable his chest shakes with his caged sob. His nostrils fill with the scents of cinnamon and vanilla and a bonfire deep in the forest. His eyes well up with tears as he continues to look down at his hands, mind racing in disbelief at his body’s immediate reaction to his new Dom, a reaction he’s not experienced before.

Hope begins to seep into Bucky’s limbs as a pair of sleek, black boots come into view.

“James?”

Oh. 

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until his next exhale comes out as a choked sob. Upon hearing that voice the hope in his body bursts, shatters, into something more fierce, something that has him responding with a quiet and thoughtless— 

“Daddy?” 

He doesn’t look up, doesn’t let his eyes leave the floor, those expensive boots. He feels his hands tremble in his lap, can almost hear them do so. He isn’t given enough time to panic about addressing his new Dom by a title that wasn’t approved by him, wasn’t given permission to use, because his Dom is responding confidently. 

“Look at me, please.”

Bucky’s eyelids flutter upon hearing the gentle command in such a soothing, rich voice, and he takes a deep and shaky breath before listening like a good boy…

And immediately begins sobbing in full.

It’s the faceless man from Bucky’s dreams, he’s sure of it. He has kind ocean eyes, an otherworldly physical presence. There’s experience etched into every part of his being, from his graying hair to the wrinkles around his eyes to the calmness that sweeps off of him in waves. He smiles down at Bucky and it makes him feel like he’s the most precious creature on the planet. 

“Oh, my angel…”

This is the man that is going to save his life.

This is his Daddy. 

With his eyesight now blurry because of his tears, he doesn’t see the hand coming down before it cups his chin. There’s a strength in this grip that Bucky knows will soothe him, hold him, love him for the rest of his life. A thumb swipes at his tears, wiping them from his cheek. He can’t remember the last time he felt such comfort from another human being. Even before he was forced into this facility, through all his sexual encounters, gentleness and softness were not things he experienced. He’s almost forgotten what it’s like, to feel a reassuring touch. 

“James,” his Daddy reverently murmurs, stroking his thumb over Bucky’s trembling bottom lip. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” 

He swallows thickly, his eyes roving over his Daddy’s face, taking a few seconds to selfishly drink the older man in. His body reacts to its Dom’s presence like it knows its Daddy is finally here, its biological needs taking over all other needs, roaring to life within him. Bucky’s eyes fight to cross when he takes in the size of his Dom’s denim-clad thighs, how he fills out his cozy sweater. His Daddy’s so big. He wiggles his hips where he sits, chin in his Daddy’s big hand. 

“I’ve just…I’ve…I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” is what Bucky ends up saying quietly, sniffling, and his Dom’s smile is slow and sweet, like he enjoys Bucky’s answer. 

“I’ve been waiting for you forever, James.” 

Those words feel like pure sunlight.

But Bucky shakes his head without thought, stops himself abruptly after two shakes. He’s reminded then of his handler’s words, that he was a difficult Sub. He can’t take the risk of being anything but the best Sub. He’s already afraid to lose his Daddy; he has to be good. 

But his Dom has caught his defiance. 

“What is it, James?” 

“Nothing, Sir.” 

His Dom doesn’t miss a beat. 

“No, sweetheart— no lies, no holding back, no unspoken feelings. I always want to know what you are thinking, what your feelings are. So tell me, James. What is it?” 

Christ. Bucky can’t help but sniffle again, unable to get his tears under control. His Dom is perfect. 

“B-Bucky,” he mumbles. “I go by Bucky. I don’t…I don’t like James.” 

His Dom’s smile is warm, his fingers that squeeze around Bucky’s chin reassuring. He repeats Bucky’s name, practicing it a few times, each one sending Bucky melting further into his head and surely into the floor. 

“Of course, sweetheart— Bucky. My name is Steve,” he tells him, and Bucky’s insides warm with more of that sunlight Steve is bringing into his life. 

Steve. 

A strong name for a strong man, a name that belongs to a man that gently commands attention. It’s the perfect name, or so Bucky thinks.

“But you can call me Daddy, Bucky.’

That’s the best name, the perfect name. 

Hands still tied together in his lap, dick still in its cage, Bucky turns his head and nuzzles his cheek into his new Daddy’s palm, the warmth and sheer size of it making him lightheaded. It takes him a moment to recognize that this is the beginnings of him going under, of finding that sweet space within. He’d gotten so used to being forced there, his designation being used against him to put him under, that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be sent there willingly. 

His whimpers seem endless even to his own ears. 

“Look at that,” Steve marvels from his place above Bucky, voice the most soothing of tones, a sensation in and of itself. He allows Bucky to nuzzle his cheek further into his palm, even as Bucky gives into the urge and desire to press kisses to his fingers. Such a forgiving Dom.

“I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you, that you’d be everything I’ve dreamt of having all to myself.”

Bucky sobs. The emotions that one sentence brings him is enough to beg Steve to not go any further. But Bucky is selfish, he is admittedly greedy. He’s been given nothing while being here, before this. He has continuously poured from a deserted and infinitely empty cup and has been given nothing when his heart, his mind, his body demands it, needs it, in order to survive. 

“Your tears,” Steve murmurs, interjecting his own shared line of thinking. “Are they good or bad, Bucky? Please tell me.” 

A request yet a command. A tender one. One Bucky must answer, is finally willing to answer. “Both,” is what he decides to admit. 

“Both?” 

He nods his head within Steve’s grip. “Yes, Daddy. Bad because…because I am sad for my past self. That I was never given a chance to be good and then said chance was forcefully taken away from me.” Before Steve can speak to those words, Bucky quickly continues. “But good because you’re here…you’re finally here. And I…I get to be so g-good for you.” 

Steve’s exhale is heavy, laced with a sound of pleasure that settles over Bucky’s own shoulders and neck. Bucky’s dick strains against its cage, his mind slipping from himself further. 

Steve sticks his thick thumb between Bucky’s lips and Bucky nearly sobs again, hiccuping around where he purses his mouth.

“You are extraordinary,” Steve tells him and Bucky truly believes it given his reverent tone. “The moment you stepped on stage, I knew it. I’ve been coming here for years. Did they tell you that? Years, Bucky.  I’m their hardest client to please, the one they couldn’t wait to be rid of. Money is of no importance, my preferences vague. Kept telling them I’d know when to bid, when the right Sub would be coming home with me.”  

Bucky sucks on Steve’s thumb harder, grateful to have something in his mouth as his Dom showers him with praise. 

“They even told me they’d go out of their way to find someone that fit what I was looking for, that we could forgo an auction altogether. I told them no.”

His Daddy is so powerful. 

Bucky slips further into his head. 

“Never once did I question myself; I knew you were out there. And when you stepped onto that stage with those legs and that mouth and those eyes…oh, kitten— you were made for me.” 

Bucky sways forward, head dizzy with need and relief curling together, tightly wound. Steve wraps his other fingers around Bucky’s chin, holding him steady. 

“And you’re going to be the sweetest, most affectionate boy for me, aren’t you? This is everything we’ve both been waiting for, isn’t it?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, laps at Steve’s thumb and sucks it into the back of his mouth. 

“You’re going to bring us so much joy through your submission, aren’t you? You’re going to bring us the purpose we’ve been craving. Together.” 

Bucky doesn’t know how to communicate that his feelings are terribly overwhelming, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself because of it. The force of his emotions leave his body trembling where he kneels. If Steve’s thumb weren’t in his mouth his teeth would surely be clacking against one another with the force of his tremors. His head spins in less of the dizzy way he’s been experiencing these past weeks and more in a euphoric way he’s always dreamt it could. 

His body already trusts its Daddy, leaning towards him and into his touch, loosening up further and further. The line in his shoulders softens, the tension in his thighs diminishes. Even with Steve’s thumb in his mouth, the tightness no longer residing in his jaw is obvious. 

Even as Bucky spent his nights dreaming of this moment, weeping for this moment, he never imagined it could be this perfect. 

But then Steve is reaching for his belt buckle with his other hand, the button on his black dress pants, and Bucky wonders if he is in fact dreaming. 

“Let Daddy give you something else to suck on, sugar. You look like you need it,” Steve purrs, reaching into his now open dress pants and pulling out his cock. Weeping nearly as much as Bucky has been, Steve’s cock is impossibly thick and deliciously heavy. It has Bucky’s hips wiggling once more, his vision going blurry as he’s presented with his Daddy’s cock for the very first time. He can’t stop the onslaught of sniffles and weepy eyes as he reminds himself once more that he’s so goddamn lucky Steve waited for him. 

He opens his mouth as soon as that cock is above him, letting Steve’s thumb pop from between his lips, whining as he does so. He can smell Steve from here, his warm scent with an added muskiness to it that has Bucky unabashedly groaning, tongue out. 

And then Steve pulls his balls out too, and Bucky nearly asks to be pinched. 

“Daddy…” 

“Gimme a kiss, sweetheart. Let Daddy feel that precious mouth.”

The moment the fat head of Steve’s cock lands on his tongue, Bucky feels the closest thing to submissive bliss he’s ever felt. It’s euphoric. The taste of him, this Dom, his Daddy, blooms on his tongue, bursts through his being. The taste of his excitement, his precome, forces another ragged noise from Bucky as he sucks Steve further into his mouth, savoring every inch of him. Steve’s thunderous and drawn out groan feels like a climax to Bucky.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve exclaims through an exhale, Bucky barely tethered to the earth. “That’s it. Show Daddy how much you’ve missed him, show him how perfect you are.”

In the three months he’s been here, servicing a Dom has not once felt like this. In his time before this, his time on the streets and beyond, he’s never felt solid within his submissiveness. The stretch of his jaw, the hot slide of velvet wrapped steel on his tongue and down his throat, the feel of Steve’s large fingers sliding through his hair; it all brings him a sense of purpose he’s failed to receive all these years. 

And he can’t help but sob around his mouthful. 

“I knew it, I…fuck, I knew you were made for me, Bucky” Steve tells him, voice full of awe and dripping with lust. “I can’t wait to see how far you drop, how far I can push you. You’re gonna let Daddy push you, aren’t you? You’re gonna let him learn all about you?” 

Bucky confirms Steve’s suspicions with another loud, garbled noise around his cock, one of obvious enthusiasm. He’s dropping hard now, wants to tell his Daddy he’s barely holding on, but then Steve’s hands are moving, holding Bucky’s head in place as he pulls his hips back. 

Using Bucky. 

What little headspace Bucky has left reserved for himself is used to marvel at how easily, how purposefully, it was for Steve to step into this role as his Daddy. 

He’d give Steve the world. 

He’ll give Steve whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, all the time. 

This is his life’s purpose now, being used for his Daddy’s pleasure, serving his Daddy. Being owned by his Daddy.

He’s left with no choice but to cry. 

Bucky opens up his throat as his eyes begin to close, leaning forward on his knees, letting Steve fuck his mouth. With an easy and sharp noise, Bucky immediately knows that Steve wants his eyes open and on him. He does just that, looking up at Steve as he sticks his tongue out obediently, moaning at the fullness of his mouth. 

“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” Steve murmurs, voice melting down Bucky’s spine as Steve’s fingers dig into his hair. “You’re so good, you’re already so good for your Daddy. Look at you, look how much you love sucking on your Daddy’s cock. You perfect baby Sub.”

Bucky’s head grows fuzzier, his dick aching, his core aching. He slurps around Steve’s cock but it does nothing to slow the trail of spit dripping down his chin and sliding towards his neck. Steve is a dream, an absolute dream. Bucky needs a communicator, needs someone who will listen and who will talk to him, especially when it’s filthy. Bucky wants to be talked dirty to, wants to experience that side of sex, especially when it’s praise. Especially when it’s from Steve. 

Without warning, Steve kicks his hips forward, a noise akin to a growl falling from his lips, his fingers tightening in Bucky’s hair. It’s a slip of his obvious control, his inner Dom breaking through, impatient. Bucky meets him full force with his own submission, moaning around his Daddy’s cock, showing him he can take it. 

“Yeah, you know what that is, don’t you? Your Sub knows a Dom when he feels one, doesn’t he?” 

Bucky’s whine is damn near desperate. 

“You know how hard it is for your Dom not to take you right here on this fucking floor, sweetheart? Makes me feel feral, the way I want to make you mine. Mhmm, your Daddy doesn’t want that though. Your Daddy wants to take you home, take you away from this place forever. He wants to treat you right.” 

Bucky swallows around his mouthful.

He can feel Steve’s groan all the way down here, down in his toes.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweetheart,” Steve tells him, his hands holding onto both sides of his face. He pulls his cock out of Bucky’s mouth just enough to where Bucky can only suckle on the tip of it given the restraint Steve has put him in. The connection of their eyes, the way Steve looks down at him, strikes a chord deep, deep within Bucky. 

He whimpers as he suckles on the big, swollen head of his Daddy’s cock as he listens. 

“I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going to give you my come, fill your pretty belly with it. I have a hunch that’s going to send you right under, which is perfect. You’re so perfect, angel.”

Bucky whimpers again. 

“And then Daddy’s going to take you home. And when we get home, I’m going to give you a bath and play with your little body until you’re nice and loose and ready to take my big cock.” 

Bucky whimpers again. 

“And then I’m going to fuck your little hole until it sends you right back under, until you come all over my cock, until our bond snaps into place and we finally and officially belong to one another.” 

Oh. 

Bucky sniffles as he lets Steve use his mouth, tears trailing down his cheeks and mixing with the spit smeared on his chin. He wasn’t sure if the person who bought him would want to bond so quickly, if they’d want to bond at all. It’s been implied to him since he got here that he was too difficult of a Sub to become bonded. To hear that Steve wants to take him away from this dreadful place, to their home, in order to bond with him is a dream come true. 

It’s what begins to send him under. 

“That’s it, kitten,” Steve pants, fucking himself impossibly deep into Bucky’s mouth. “That’s it, baby. Oh, I can almost feel you slipping from me. Have you stolen my heart already? Have you tempted my bond already, Bucky?” 

Bucky’s vision begins to grow fuzzy around the edges, his mind pulling in on itself, hypnotized by the drag of Steve’s cock in and out of his mouth. In and out, in and out, in and out. Blessedly not rough, but intense and all-consuming. His jaw nearly aches at the stretch of Steve’s girth and it’s— 

It’s bliss. 

Daddy’s hands in his hair, Daddy’s cock in his mouth, Daddy’s praise in his ear, Daddy’s eyes on his face, Daddy’s come on his tongue. 

“Daddy.” 

“You’re mine now, Bucky. No one is ever going to hurt you, never again. I’ll give you everything you could ever want as a Sub and as a boy. You’ll never wish for anything now that I’m your Daddy,” Steve tells him as he shoots off down Bucky’s throat, hands in Bucky’s hair, petting him as he pumps his hips.

His Daddy’s voice is steady and strong, full of promise and love. And as he kneels there at his Daddy’s feet with Steve’s warm come settling into his belly, his Daddy’s cock still in his slack mouth, Bucky finally, finally lets himself sink.

[brins-rogers]

legacy ch 1

{raph x reader}

i might potentially continue this if it gets enough traction, consider it a pilot chapter lol

WARNINGS: violence, mentions of alcohol/underage drinking, mentions of substances used (marijuana), swearing, death, father in jail, parental figure death, not enemies to lovers but definitely wary to friends to best friends to lovers, SLOWBURN BABYYYYYY

word count: ???

—————————————————

Her footsteps thudded against the ground as she ran towards the commotion in the alley. It was dark, freezing cold, and all she wanted was to be home from her long day at school. God, her cousin was probably worried sick right now. Whipping out her phone, she shot her a quick text.

‘Be over soon, with friends rn.’

Tucking her phone into her pocket, she threw her head up and grabbed the balaclava that stayed in her backpack in case of … emergencies. Pulling it on and grabbing her specialized black gloves with hidden blade compartments on every knuckle, the hand clenches into a fist, the blades pop out. And when stretching the fingers out, the blades can extend to become an exoskeleton to make claw-like structures on the fingertips.

Her mother had given them to her when she started this stupid training for becoming a vigilante. ‘New York City needs more heroes, you have special abilities, use them’. Her mother wasn’t one for big pep talks, mostly just shoving her around in their training time and telling her to do better.

Hearing another scream, Y/N jumped down, clawed gloves extended to the scene. A woman on the wall, being mugged by some phony in a clown mask.

“Uh oh, look out, some emo kid with kitten claws is here to save the day.” The thug laughed, releasing his grip on the woman’s jacket and watching as she scrambled away. The thug now brandished a knife, Y/N tilting her head. “Give her the purse back.”

“Or what, dork? You’ll make me do your math homework? Grow up.” He lowered his stance, and Y/N lunged forward, the claw like blades slicing the clown masks’s nose off. It dropped to the floor, the thug growling and charging at her. She blocked the first swipe of the knife, the second slicing into her arm and leaving a deep gash.

“Fuck,” she hissed, yanking her arm back. The woman that had been cornered was still there, screaming as blood gushed from the wound. “I’m gonna kill ya, brat!”

Y/N rolled her eyes under the mask, surging forward again and kicking the knife out of his hand, landing a solid punch to his jaw. Looking down at her arm, the skin began to mend itself back together. She could regenerate, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt when she was injured.

“You okay ma’am?” Y/N asked, cautiously stepping forward, reaching the purse out to hand it to her. The woman’s eyes locked onto the skin pulling itself back together, another scream escaping her lips.

“Freak!”

Well, it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d heard that. Probably not the last, either. You’d think people would have more gratitude after you saved their life.

Leaving the purse and Y/N in the dust, she sighed and dropped it on the ground, looking at the unconscious thug. Leaning down, she grabbed the belt from his pants and tightly bound his hands together. Maybe the cops would actually show up, but she doubted it. NYC was buzzing with petty crime like this.

Finishing the knot, she took the gloves off, packing that and the balaclava in her bag as she continued her walk to the apartment complex April lived at.

Knocking at the door, she shifted on her feet when her cousin opened the door, smiling widely. “Hey, come in! I’ve got some popcorn in the microwave. Jane has to work early so we’ll kick it in my room, Kay?” Y/N nodded, slinging her backpack on the other shoulder and giving a small polite smile to April’s roommate.

Dumping her bag and shedding her oversized leather jacket, she eagerly sat on April’s bed. Y/N didn’t have any siblings, or honestly many friends, so April made up for that.

“So, first year of being a senior. Tell me all about it. Do you like your classes?” She asked and tossed the bowl of popcorn. Y/N smiled and took a few pieces, shrugging. “I mean it’s not that different than junior year. Less stuff to do, which is cool. My teachers are all pretty chill. Hate pre-cal though, it doesn’t help my teacher is the soccer coach and only wants to talk about how we’re making it to state this year. News flash, the soccer team blows.”

April laughed and turned on the TV in her room, putting on a movie. Twilight, classic. “This, again? April,” Y/N whined, making the older woman scoff. “It’s not that bad when we make fun of it. C’mon, it’s the perfect weather outside for it.” True, it was chilly and a little thundery.

Rolling her sleeves up, Y/N leaned against the headboard. “Fine, only because you’re the adult in charge—“ Her sentence was interrupted by April. “Oh my god, your arm!”

Y/N forgot about that. About the gash that had now healed and left a dark, long bruise on her forearm. “Oh, it’s okay! I just uh, tripped going up the stairs. Landed on my arm.” She lied swiftly and began to roll it back down. It always sucked, lying about the injuries to April. April was smart, her dad was a scientist so there wasn’t much that got past her. But, Y/N’s mom was strict on the ‘keep your abilities secret’ rule.

The only people who knew were her mom who sported the same abilities, and her uncle (April’s father) who was deceased, and the dead are always the best at keeping secrets.

“You sure—“ Before April could probe her further, her cell phone began ringing. “Hey, Donnie,” April stood up, walking around the room as if to but distance between them.

Enhanced speed, enhanced strength, regeneration were all abilities she possessed, but enhanced hearing wasn’t one of them. “Donnie? That your boyfriend?” Y/N joked with her hand in the bowl.

April’s eyebrows furrowed, looking at Y/N on the bed. “Yeah, I can be there. Gimme twenty minutes.” Hanging up the phone, she stuffed it in her pocket. Her eyes turned apologetic. “I’m gonna have to run out for a little, stay here. Jane will tell me if you leave.” Y/N’s brows furrowed.

“Mom put you in charge of me, and you’re just gonna ditch me for a guy? Not very cash money of you, April.” April sighed, hands on her hips. “I know what Y/M/N said, but this is urgent. I promise I’ll be back. Please, just stay here.” Looking at the expression on her face, Y/N sighed and nodded.

“Sure, sure. Just ditch me. Grab a pizza on your way back, and I won’t breathe a word of it to mom.” April grinned brightly and ruffled Y/N’s hair. “Perfect. I’ll get it just the way you like it.”

Maybe April wasn’t that good at picking up on lying, because Y/N just lied straight through her teeth. Hearing the front door click shut, she scrambled for her bag, grabbing the previously used balaclava and gloves. She didn’t intend to use them for combat this time, but she’d learned she could scale walls pretty easily with them.

Opening the window, she stood on the slightly wobbly fire escape. They really needed to replace this thing soon. Her eyes landed on April walking towards an alley, Y/N swung and leapt from the fire escape to the building beside it, using the claws to grip onto the brick. Climbing up, she now observed her from the rooftop.

Her eyebrows furrowed as April went to a place with a dead end, and a manhole cover. Y/N became even more confused when she went down the manhole. What business did April have in the sewers? Jumping down on the ground, a soft ‘oof’ escaped her lips as she hesitantly opened the cover and slipped in herself.

Time to put that core strength to use.

Y/N stuck her claws into the ceiling of the sewer, slowly crawling forward to April’s figure in the distance. After a few feet, she could hear … laughter, voices, what sounded like TVs and such. Before she could get to where the light seemed to gleam from, an alarm went off.

Fuck, how was she spotted? She was climbing the ceiling for fucks sake!

There were so many tunnels, so many routes and she knew she could easily get lost in here. Ducking into the right tunnel, her heart pounded in her chest.

Massive figures ran past, Y/N squeezed to the tunnel as tightly as she could and held her breath.

“I don’t think I was followed! I’m always looking over my shoulder …” She could hear her cousin’s voice, frowning at how those guys now seemed to bicker.

“Maybe it’s best if you don’t come here for a while, we’ll just come visit you. Nothing personal it’s just … you remember what happened last time.” A slightly nasally voice rang out. Was that April’s boyfriend? “Sorry Angelcakes!” No, that was. But the voices sounded so … young. Like her age.

Y/N took a breath when she heard the voices retreating, slowly moving to turn and go back the way she came. If she could remember it. Her shoes made a squeak, nearly inadmissible, until she heard a voice call out behind her.

“Hey! You, stop!” The voice was rough and deep, making the hair on the back of her neck prickle. Turning on her heel, she ran as fast as she could down the tunnel, heart pounding in her ears. She swore this person must’ve been a track star, the distance between them lessening as she heard the jingle of what sounded like metal slapping against their skin.

“Raph, that’s enough! Fall back!” Y/N just kept pushing, thank god for enhanced stamina and speed. “And let this person come back?! Hell nah!” Another sound of footsteps joined in on the chase.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Enough, Raphael!” It sounded like someone was tackled behind her. She didn’t dare turn around and look, she just kept running.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps dissipated. Y/N hunched over, a mile or so away, panting and trying to even her breathing. She had to get back before April noticed she was gone.

Climbing up the ladder and moving the manhole cover, Y/N looked around. Okay, she was maybe a couple blocks from the apartment. She had to run, there was no way April wasn’t almost there!

Opting for rooftops due to being in her balaclava and gloved up, she sunk the exoskeletal nails in the brick, climbing up the wall and jumping from roof to roof. She caught her second wind pretty quickly as she scaled the apartment’s walls, climbing back in through the still opened windows.

Hurriedly, Y/N shoved the mask and gloves into her bag, plopping down on the bed like nothing had happened.

The minute she sat down, April swung the door open, smiling at her younger cousin. “Sorry I took so long, my friends needed something.”

Y/N nodded, folding her legs up in her lap.

“You promised me a pizza, cuzzo.”

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Hi! *Waves like a weird-o*

You probably already know this, but I absolutely love your writing and you truly are so talented. Please never stop!! Even if you just write for yourself!!!

So I do have a mini request if you don't mind of course. Post-sex cramps? For female reader? Clone of your choice of course and any way you wanna write it; NSFW or NFW.

No rush of course!! Thank you!! ❤️

- Hales

And here is cat + kitten(s) for your troubles. And puppies if you like those better. And a snake if you like those too.

hiiii friend! *waves back like a weirdo* first of all, thank you so much?? for the kind words?? omg. I appreciate you so much—and the pictures of the baybiessssss! I love all of them, please give them snoot boops for me (if they're yours ofc). anyways, I hope this is somewhat in line with what you envisioned! I opted for the fluff/SFW route because I need that tonight lol enjoy! <3

Comforting Touches

Summary: Some HCs and blurbs about how the commander batch comforts you through some post-sex cramping.

Warnings: no actual sex described but still mature content so 18+, minors get outta here; f!reader, fluff, i guess hurt/comfort?, big strong stoic men being soft and loving

Word Count: 1.1k

dividers by @saradika and @dystopicjumpsuit

Cody

Like with many other things in his life, Cody is nothing if not thorough. Meticulous in the way that he picks you apart and puts you back together, painstaking in the image of self-confidence and dominance that he exudes when he’s intimate with you. 

And just as attentive to your needs after he makes you finish several times. If you wince in pain from the cramps beginning to twist your insides, despite the many orgasms he’d given you, he’s all over that. 

Tilts your head to the sides to check your vitals, gets you meds, and frowns when you try to shoo him off. “You’re not goin’ anywhere until you’re good, cyar’ika.” 

More than anything, you’re just grateful to still be sitting on the edge of his bunk. Between the shakiness in your legs from the strain of having him buried inside you just a few minutes ago, and the pain tugging at your body, you have no energy to stand right now. Cody sighs, a furrow deepening between his brows; you can’t resist the impulse to smooth his skin with your thumb. You trace the outline of his scar when his expression doesn’t relax. 

“Did I cause this?” he asks. Despite the way he tries to hide it, you can hear the concern underlying his words. 

Sighing, you shrug with one shoulder. “Kinda. But it’s okay,” you hurry to assure him. “It’s, um, most often caused by...intense orgasm. Or just intense sex. Happens now and then.” 

He blinks at you, your words clearly taking a moment to compute. Almost unbidden, a small groan escapes him. “O-Oh.” 

“Mhm.” You clench your teeth as another wave of cramps knifes through you. “Worth it.”

He cups your face in one hand, the other resting on your bare thigh, kneading your soft flesh. “Good. Because I can’t promise I won’t be able to keep myself from making you cum like that again.” 

His words are a promise, and you know Cody never breaks promises.

Wolffe

Listen I know we all think Wolffe is this hard-ass, mean dom (and he is) but he’s also very caring. Hard shell, gooey insides.

The minute you show signs of being in any kind of discomfort he’s right there, cradling you to his chest, smoothing his warm palms over your thighs, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. 

“Where’s it hurt, mesh’la?” 

You curl in on yourself within Wolffe’s embrace, your body trying to wrap itself around the dull pain blossoming in your center. Though pleasure lingers in your limbs, this unfortunate side-effect of sex occasionally makes an appearance, particularly after a good romp with Wolffe. Normally it’s not so bad, but right now, you just want to squeeze into a ball and sleep until the cramping fades.

“M’sorry if I hurt you,” Wolffe rumbles in your ear, his voice soft and quiet. “I know I can be rough.” 

��S’not that,” you say with a small smile. “Just...does this when it’s really good.”

“That seems counterintuitive.” 

You bark a short laugh. “Tell that to whoever designed the female human body.” 

Wolffe tucks your head under his chin and presses a large, warm hand over your tummy to act as an impromptu heating pad until the cramps dissipate, his lips pressing chaste, close-mouthed kisses along your neck and shoulders to help distract you. You hum in contentment, drawing lazy circles on his bare hip, relishing how his muscles flex under your touch.

Fox

If the cramps take a bit to set in, and you’re both already re-dressed and ready to go about your days, Fox will still immediately put his very busy schedule on hold to make sure you’re okay. 

Gives you pain meds, extra water, and kisses you sweetly. “Why don’t you lay on the couch here for a bit until you feel better, sarad?” 

If/when you protest, he simply gives you his best deadpan look—which is quite good, considering he’s perfected it through use on his men—and crosses his arms, cocking his hip. 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, the slight smile tugging at your lips vanishing into a twisted grimace at the next wave of cramping. Fox sighs and ushers you to the old, ratty couch he’d acquired for his office. He guides you to sitting down at the least, and nods in approval when you draw your legs up to your chest and hug your knees to put pressure on your center where the cramps are the worst. 

When he goes to turn away, you reach out to snag his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Fox?” 

“Hm?” He looks down at you, graying curls sweeping over his forehead. 

“Sit with me?” 

“Of course.” He graces you with a soft smile, retreats for just a moment to retrieve his datapad, and settles into the couch next to you. He rests one arm along the back of the couch; you snuggle into his warmth, grateful that he hasn’t yet put on the top half of his armor, and let your eyes drift shut, listening to the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his fingers over his datapad while he works. You’d be able to fall asleep there, in post-orgasmic near-bliss. 

Rex

Rex realizes that something is amiss the moment that you don’t roll over to cuddle him after he returns from getting you a warm rag to clean off with.

When you simply groan your answer, the post-sex cramps clenching your insides a little more intensely than you’re used to, he’s instantly in Protective Partner Mode. 

“I’ve got you, cyare.” 

With strong, steady hands, Rex gently repositions you on the bed so that you’re lying on your front, before settling his knees to either side of your thighs. His thumbs, calloused and rough, rub slow, comforting circles along your spine, from your butt to your neck and back. Though he knows by now that he can’t do much in the way of helping your cramps aside from offering pain meds (which he retrieves as soon as he realizes what’s going on), he can offer you relaxation of other sorts. 

His practiced hands work away all the knots and kinks in your back, urging your entire body into a state of bliss beyond the post-orgasm glow. 

“How’s this, cyare?” he asks, voice quiet, contemplative. 

“Feels s’good,” you mumble, face smushed into the sheets. “Thank you, Rex.” 

“Always.” He leans over you to press a kiss to the side of your head. “I’d say that I’d stop doing whatever causes these cramps, but—”

“Don’t you dare,” you interrupt, playfully glaring out of the corner of your eyes. “You know damn well the orgasms you give are worth this discomfort.” 

He preens just a little at that, and if he happens to give your butt a squeeze or two while resuming his massage, well, that’s his deal. 

Ragu: @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @bobaprint @lem-hhn @thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @cw80831 @dreamie411 @jedi-hawkins @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl @originalcollectionartistry

[theyluvlyss]

𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟...

but when I read it after finishing it, I realized it was too cute not to post, so now, here I am to bless your feed with this short lil' blurb that I love so much.

and I say bless, because I figure, if I love it this much, so will others, maybe🤷🏽‍♀️. Especially my melanated sistas, like, this is quite literally for y'all🩷💋🫵🏽. You're welcome.

𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 <𝟑

《 ♡ 》 imagine (a little bit crack-fic-ish but that's okay)

  ───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

nothing much, really. just billy loving you so much, and he thinks you're cute and all😙.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!black-codedasf!reader x loveydovey!billy batson

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

post shazam!: fury of the gods

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

(joking/exaggerative) mentions of suffocating - light cursing, I think? I didn't check lol - that's about it fr, like, this is super duper lovey dovey huggy wuggy kissy wissy wishy washy🥰😻💋💞 - billy being literally obsessed with you (as he should, love a women worshipping king😻) - that's it, I'm pretty sure lol.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

  ───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

You laid content as you scrolled through the contents of your open TikTok app, savoring in the warmth Billy's body generated while lying comfortably beside you. Hell - he was practically smushed up against you, with no real need to be given it was a plenty sizeable bed you shared, other than the fact that he just couldn't stand to be sharing the same mattress and not be cuddling into you.

Of course, you didn't mind this one bit. As previously mentioned, the Batson boy generated heat at a rate you couldn't be anymore grateful for, yourself always freezing to the touch for seemingly no reason. Plus, you found it endearing how close he constantly wanted to be. As though he were a clingy kitten, seemingly always depraved of your love and affection. And, thankfully, you had plenty of it to go around.

Especially seeing as some of your love went towards memes and all sorts of other funny videos on the internet. Like this next one you giggled at. It held no true meaning, simply a combination of the most recently trending things, all too niche for any newcomer to understand. But you did, being an "chronically online" teenage girl coming with its apparent perks as you let more giggles escape through your grinning teeth.

But, as per the norm, they never remained just quiet giggles. They soon escalated into something further, a fit that could no longer be contained no matter how hard you tried. Plus, with the video looping itself over and over again, you never had the chance to give yourself a break to breathe. You couldn't look away, god, it was just too funny…!

Soon, you were inevitably trying your damndest not to let out obnoxious cackles. You'd feel awful for waking your boyfriend over something as trivial as laughing too loud. But unfortunately, it proved too late for that, the stuttering of your chest being all it took before he was stirring and suddenly-

"So- S… sssss…"

In a horrid attempt at an apology, you ended up mimicking the sound of a snake, eventually pushing out the word "sorry" before exploding into more laughter. At first, Billy was not amused, staring at you through sleepy, low-lidded eyes and with a pout that you'd normally just kiss away if you weren't so busy acting like a loon.

"Why are you even still up…" He barely questioned, his voice a deep rasp as a result of his previous heavy slumber. As if you weren't already a mess, you felt a feather in your chest and stomach at the sound of his sleepy voice. It tickled you, and the video was still playing, and good lord, there was no way you were laughing this hard at what was essentially nonsense.

But you were! And it was so… so… so...

"I-...I-..."

Poor thing, you thought you were going to suffocate, blowing up into another round of giggles. Your eyes were growing misty, and you were fighting so hard to replace your laughter with air, oxygen into your lungs. You couldn't do it, and it occurred to you that you probably looked insane right now with your eyes screwed shut (leaking salty water, at that) and your mouth hanging open with no sound coming out...

You laughed harder at the mental image, if possible.

"(Y/N), dude…" Billy spoke, his tone flat and his stare hard. You couldn't take it, shoving your face into the nearest pillow as you kicked your legs and shook around in silent laughter. You were actually physically fighting to stop and were losing! You were losing badly, stretching out your hand for any source of grounding.

"Will you chill out, oh my god." Billy, once again, hardly asked. But this time, it was through his own curt chuckle, slowly growing entertained by his girlfriend's silliness before loosely allowing his hand to fall into your own. You grabbed it, and finally, you could breathe again. A smile remained stuck on his face. A tired one, of course, but one could also argue that it was in love sickness. He watched your chest heave up and down, waiting until you removed the pillow from your face.

And when you did, he almost wanted to argue that you could, in fact, blush. Because your face was most definitely, visibly a deepened shade right now as you wiped the tears and massaged your sore cheeks. But he'd leave it alone, for now.

"I'm sorry." You spoke plainly after a moment of silence, gathering yourself. "That was deadass just the funniest shit I've ever seen, I don't know what's wrong with me."

Billy's smile grew, staring down at you while laying on his side, listening to your cheery-filled voice explain what on earth was so funny about this video that you nearly asphyxiated yourself cackling at. You laid against the bicep of his arm, curls tickling his skin because you'd more than likely forgotten to put a bonnet on for the evening.

He wouldn't remind you, though. Just for tonight, because he liked the tickle-feeling and the way they framed your face and expanded gorgeously around your head. Like a powerful mane or maybe a halo. He traced the detail in the browns of your eyes and had to stop himself from running a thumb over your brows. And just from the previous events alone, he was sure you had licked away all of your chapstick and gloss, staring at your lips before meeting your eyes once again upon listening to the cadence in your voice dip into a questioning tone.

"Did you see?" You asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, babe."

Hardly a hum, yet full of adoration. Not that it mattered, because almost as fast as it was put there, your laughing expression had morphed into a playful one of disbelief. An added click of the tongue for full affect.

"Mncht. No, you didn't; you're not even looking…"

There was about a four second pause, Billy finally giving into the urge to run his thumb over your brow, tracing it down your cheek… prodding at the dimple that may/could reside there before running it as lightly as a feather over your lips. You paid no mind one way or the other to his actions, used to them by this point in time. Used to being cherished and observed with such worship and grace, even though it still made you slip into a mild hot flash.

"You're so cute."

Your eyes gazed up into his green ones, finally giving him your attention at such a sudden yet fond statement. At first, you almost let the words, "I know." slip. But then, you figured you might as well just say thank you and urge him back to bed. After all, you had never meant to wake him in the first place, and the guilt of that was finally starting to set in.

And yet…

"You think I'm cute?"

Billy, if he didn't know any better, allowed his heart to melt right there. Your eyes were big and expecting, curious about his thoughts even though he had just let them loose. And your tone full of hope, as if he'd never told you such a thing before. That might as well be blasphemy for him, seeing as he made it appoint to remind you of the way you had basically consumed his thoughts every single day.

And he'd continue to do so over and over and over again until you got it through your head that he was one-hundred percent serious. That he meant it with all of his heart.

"Think." He repeated the word you had murmured with a tone of hilarity. "I know you're cute, I'm lookin' right at you~."

He spoke with a shameless flirt in his drowsy tone, watching as you smiled to yourself. This time, you had no wit to banter up or a cheeky way of saying "I know" to him. All you had was your giddiness, only to then offer up the purse of your lips innocently until Billy got the hint.

"Gimmie kiss~…" He spoke, even though he was the one to deliver such upon your lips. But it didn't really matter because a few pecks later, you were drunk off of them and selfishly demanding more until he had literally kissed you to sleep.

"...Cute."

𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐈 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐰🥲.

i've got to stop letting my own words hurt me like this lmaoo😭. I hope y'all enjoyed ! more on the way soon✨️🤞🏽.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 :

myself <3

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐦 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 :

none :(