#and he’s so fucking hot doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING

[sugarwarachan]

dabi and dumbification 🤝 - mdni

he likes how smart you are, actually prefers you a little mean, but nothing, absolutely nothing, turns him on like watching his smart girl go stupid on his dick

actually lives for the moment when he witnesses your mind go slack and give in to him—he’s big on control and trust, so knowing that you’re essentially putting your whole person in his hands is everything to him

“aww, you like being my little cocksleeve, don’t ya sweet thing?” he snarls, teeth against your neck, one hand hot on your hip. “no one’s ever fucked the words right outta that pretty mouth, I can tell”

loves the feeling of overpowering you so completely that he’s overwriting your very senses. you’re babbling out his name, tears pricking your eyes at the press of pleasure/pain swirling in your gut. hell, you can’t even beg him anymore, you’re so far gone—

“fuck, this slutty little pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight.” smacks your ass as he bullies his cock into you, smirks at the fucked-out whine that falls from your lips. “bet I can get another one out of you, huh baby? you still know how?” said with that infuriating smirk on his face

edges himself the entire time he’s making you cum

“where do you want it? here?” feral grin on his face while pressing down on your lower stomach, your frantic little nod bobbing up and down. “who am I to deny you?”

probably receives noise complaints from every lov member

[midnite-c6]

Hii!:D Can you write about timid fem!reader x Namgyu nsfw? Like reader has a hand kink and she keeps staring at Namgyu’s hands. And once the lights out, Namgyu decides to confront reader.

Sorry if this is maybe a bit confusing this is my first time requesting😞🫶🏻 Btw I rlly love your fics💕

his hands are so hot holy lord 🤤 i would kfc on those thangs finger licking good fr he keeps us filled up here, dis to all the hand lovers MEOW

nam-gyu x timid!reader smut !! <3 warnings: 18+, DARK content, spoilers, dubcon, humiliation, fingering

つ⁠｡⁠☆ imagine.. when you first met him at the games, (ignoring the deaths & violence in the background), you shamelessly keep staring at his veiny hands!! like oh lord !! the rings in his pointer and middle finger weren't helping either, as well as that stylistic choice of a black wristband, it only added to the appeal. this is what kept you going, to be honest, even if nam-gyu wasn't necessarily the good guy inside the games, you'd only vote 'O' to be with him longer! he notices this, of course, and takes advantage every time! getting closer to you, his hand slightly patting your head to "calm" you down, and when he sees you not having any energy to eat, he'd ask for it, but if you KINDLY reject him, he scoffs, "do you want me to feed it to you then?", ... "if you're not gonna eat, i'll force the food inside you.", "you'd want my fingers shoved up that mouth of yours, right?" hoo.. boy...

you were so... weird. he thinks. because he's absolutely aware of your obsession with his hands, and he decides to test the waters! well, not test, he fully dives in.

you were the only team member that remained with him, thanos died, se-mi died, and min-su was too scared to face him. he told you he'd have a meeting during lights out, opting you to come to his bed. nam-gyu's really shocked at your "loyalty" for him, but still punishes you for it!

nsfw below -> !! (⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

... he kept his promise of shoving down his fingers down your throat, his pointer and middle finger, inches deep inside, making you gag. this was to shut you up, there was a metallic taste, due to the ring he was wearing. "i know you've been wanting this, so don't scream." he whispers, his other arm forcing your legs to open wide, "if i hear you, even a little bit, i'll kill you, got it?" he's so strict, it's fucking you up, mentally. but you nod, and it painfully adds up to his ego, making him think: so you DID want this? you were now voluntarily at his mercy?? well he might've forgotten his blatant death threats but still...

he'd remove the two fingers inside your mouth, giving you a firm look, you better not make a noise! pushing your pants off your legs, seeing the wet gray patch in the middle of your panties. "jeez. you're even wet." he says, dissaprovingly staring. he places his whole hand to rub the apex of your thighs, he could only watch you arch your back and watch your hand fly to your mouth so you wouldn't make any noise, as ordered. he then leaves two fingers to be placed on your clothed clit. "here, hm?" you nod frantically, wishing he'd apply more friction to the bud, he'd playfully scoff, simply ignoring your clit as he moves the two fingers down your clothed hole. the way it got wetter was so mesmerizing for him! ".. didn't even know girls like you existed."

"freak. you should be ashamed of yourself." he'd now slip your panties to your ankles, making you fully bare for him, it was so embarassing for you :(, it was like he was judging your pussy, he'd take another second to look at it, before harshly slapping your cunny with his heavy hand, it hurt so bad!! you'd yelp from the pain, making him slap it again as punishment, "damn it, quiet." your clit was twitching as a reaction huhu...

he'd take another second to stare, seeing your pussy clench onto nothing! in that moment, he almost felt bad, since he's so humiliated for you! leaving no warning, he'd shove his middle and pointer finger inside, it stings. he knows it stings, he just doesn't care. he'd spread his fingers slightly, making a 'scissor' hand sign inside, he could see the insides of your cunt in full view now.

it takes no time for him to run out of patience. quickly setting a fast pace with his fingers, relentlessly pumping in and out of you. he slips it out, just to shove it right back in without any interval, making you gush all over the mattress, for sure he's gonna punish you for that later.

when he pushes your thighs to your chest to get a more deeper angle, his fingers were now hitting your g-spot! he'd even curl his fingers at the right moment. you'd let out a small noise from the feeling, none of your exes ever got to make you feel like that. your other hand that wasn't holding your mouth shut was lightly hitting his side, signaling him, you couldn't take it anymore, it was all too fast and you might've even--! oh. you'd embarrassingly squirt all over his hands, arms, and jacket. "filthy fucking cunt, did i tell you to cum?" you whined, "i'm s.. s-sorry-!" he only tsks. "fuck. disgusting. clean that up, quick."

how were you gonna clean it up? by your mouth, he'd make you lick all your cum and juices that coated his hands and arms, you were still shaken up from your orgasm, but this made it ten times worse, you felt like a dog :(.

holy shit Man journalism is not for the weak im too busy and for WHat , ANYWAys here guys, just gonna start it off, expect more posts from sat to sun, hopefully i'd be free in the weekdays too :< . namgyu thanos threesome next, as usual!

[inlovewithpandora]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — Summers In Pandora ᝰ Day 31 - Body Worship/Praising

Artists — Ao’nung x fem!Metkayina!reader

Lyrics — Tonight Ao’nung wants nothing more than to dive between your pretty thighs but after a long day of duties you’re exhausted. His desire for you burns so hot that he offers to do all the work so you can be his pretty pillow princess.

Music Advisory — SMUT [ mature audiences only!], fluff, established relationship [mates], needy!Ao’nung, [implied] pleasure dom!Ao’nung, soft!Ao’nung, oral sex + fingering [fem receiving], double stimulation, face fucking, hair pulling, aftercare, allusions to male masturbation, lots of compliments and praise ᝰ this fic does contain aged!up character smut so if you don’t like that type of content please don’t interact and continue scrolling!!

Duration — 2.7k words

Index — Tsakarem - Tsahìk-in-training・Sayrìp - Handsome・ Syulang - Flower・Yawne - Love

Words from Artist — This was my first time writing smut for Ao’nung and it was really fun! This idea was originally supposed to be for Kinkmas 2023 but I never finished it so I decided to put a spin on it and make it fit this prompt. As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — event m.list・main m.list・event taglist ・prompt list

Today there was a cold wind blowing throughout the village and it was causing a draft in your home. When the cold breeze kept gliding across your skin you could feel yourself shivering so you decided to start a fire and gather around it so it would warm up yourself and your home. When you start the fire you can immediately feel the heat emitting from it and it's already eliminating the cold air that's constantly flowing inside.

Ao’nung is next to you during the whole process and he watches you in awe, loving how you always take charge and make things happen. You've always been the type of woman to get things done no matter what it requires, you never wait around for a man to assist you and that’s one of the main reasons Ao’nung wanted you as a mate, he absolutely loves that quality about you so by watching you in your element he can’t help but feel a little turned on.

After a while both you find yourselves laying down a few inches away from the fire, your head laying on his chest and arm wrapped around his torso while his hand is resting on your thigh. The night is going perfectly just like you wanted, after the long day you’ve had all you want is to lay with your mate until you drift off to sleep. You can feel your eyes growing heavy so you allow them to close, happily letting sleep take over your body but that plan is interrupted when you feel Ao’nung’s hand travel from your thigh to your ass, squeezing it gently before rubbing it in a circular motion. You already know what he's implying by his actions, you know your mate very well. When he starts rubbing against the flesh of your ass, moving your hair out the way to place soft kisses on your neck, and teasing his fingers around the strings that are holding your loincloth together you know he wants sex.

When you feel his other hand inching toward your bra top you grab his wrist and stop him. “Not right now, baby. I’m tired and I just want to sleep.” From completing your numerous duties around the clan and also having to do your Tsakarem training with Ronal which took several hours, drained all the energy you had stored for the day. If this was a normal day and you had a good amount of energy you would of course engage in the marital act with Ao’nung but tonight you’re just too worn out. “Just let me take a nap and then I’ll do whatever you want, okay?”

Everything you just said basically went in one ear and out the other. Ao’nung doesn’t want to wait, he wants you now. He wants the sweet taste of your arousal on his tongue now, he wants to hear your sweet moans now, he wants to feel your hands gripping his hair as he devoured your heat now, he can’t wait until you wake up from your nap. “I’ll do all the work, all I want is you to lay back and look pretty for me. How does that sound syulang?” Ao’nung practically worships the ground you walk on, whether it’s publicly or privately, he always lets you know how grateful he is to have you, how beautiful you are, and how sexy your body is.

To him this is you’re world and he’s just lucky enough to live in it. Ao’nung is willing to do whatever it takes to see you squirm underneath his touch, he doesn’t want you to feel like you need to please him because by allowing him to pleasure you is enough for him, he could cum from simply knowing he’s satisfied you to the best of his abilities.

When you hear Ao’nung’s offer all you can do is let out a little laugh, you can tell he really wants to dive between your thighs. His eagerness is definitely turning you on, knowing that your mate is craving you without even having to do anything sexual is starting to make a pool of slick form between your legs. At first you were going to brush him off but now his horniness is rubbing off on you so you decide to cave and allow him to have his way with you. “That sounds perfect, sayrìp.”

The words barely have time to settle in Ao’nung’s mind before he pulls you in for a lustful kiss, swirling his tongue around your mouth while gripping your chin, moving his hand down and wrapping it gently around your neck. When Ao’nung can’t contain himself any longer he moves his hands down your body, using his mighty strength to rip off both articles of your clothing, revealing your round perky breasts and the mound of your sweet pussy.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that? Your body is so perfect, made just for me.” Ao’nung whispers as his eyes scan your body in awe, wondering how Eywa found him such a gorgeous and perfect mate. He feels like your body is carved and sculpted just for him, just for his hands to touch, for his eyes to see, and for his body to be pressed against. It isn’t long before his head is between your thighs, the sweet smell of your arousal making him feel like a man possessed as he runs his tongue over your slit, spreading you open in a swift manner before lapping up your juices so the sweetness of your arousal can dance on his tongue. His tongue finds its way to your clit, sucking on your precious pearl which makes you squirm within seconds.

Ao’nung continues swirling his tongue around your clit, giving it a deep kiss while it throbs against his palate, making a breathy moan from you fill the air. It’s a continuous process: flick, lick, suck, all the motions that’ll bring you great pleasure which is exactly what your mate wants. You can feel him spreading your juices on your inner thighs and his saliva running down your folds, making the flat of his tongue caress every pleasure point. After a while he comes up for air, wanting to savor your delicious taste and amazing scent. “Eywa, woman you taste good.” Ao’nung groans, his chest heaving as he catches his breath which makes you giggle because you’re ultimately doing the same before he continues feasting on you.

Once his lungs feel replenished he lowers his head between your thighs again, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the unexpected feeling of his tongue swirling around the entrance of your pussy. After teasing you for a few moments, enjoying the desperate whines from you filling his ears while making it seem like he would place his tongue inside but only circling around the outer edge, he finally gives you what you want, intruding your hole and pushing his tongue inside.

“Oh, fuck,” You can feel your legs instinctively spread to make more your room for Ao’nung’s head that’s now moving in multiple directions, and your hips thrust upward wanting to feel him as much as possible. Your hands make their way to the top of his head, tangling your fingers in his curly hair as you grind against his face, practically suffocating your poor mate but he’s so drunk off your pussy he doesn’t give a damn.

With each stroke of his tongue he can feel you opening more and more for him, your warm slick leaking out and sliding down his tongue while the access drips down his chin and travels down his neck. Seeing how you’re reacting to him, tightening your grip in his hair, rutting against his face like an animal, and how you’re so eager to cum all over his face makes him want to ram his cock inside you until your eyes are puffy with tears, seeing your arousal stick to his pelvis as he thrusts inside you until he’s filled you to the brim with his warm seed.

The lewd thoughts he’s conjured up in his mind makes him moan into your heat, pressing his tongue further into you as he uses his hand to gently rub circles against your clit for added stimulation and double pleasure. Every small spasm and tiny twitch that ripples through you, Ao’nung call feel. Any movement you make, any warning tremor your body makes that you’re about to cum he reads loud and clear, wanting to make sure when you cum, you cum hard.

“Mmm! Don’t fucking stop!” And with that the Metkayinan goes into overdrive, his mouth, tongue, and fingers begin to work tirelessly, switching between slurping up every single drop of your sweet juices and swirling around your clit, smothering himself by stuffing his nose into your mound to reach the depths of you and fill his nostrils with your intoxicating aroma. Right now he doesn’t even care about his aching jaw, throbbing cock, or lack of oxygen, all he wants to do is please the woman he’s been blessed with.

Ao’nung slips two of his fingers into your wetness with ease and curls them just right, causing his fingertips to press against your sweet spot. His thick fingers stretch you out beautifully, and that paired with his controlled strokes, powerful sucks and long licks of his mouth, he coaxes you over the edge, bringing forth an ecstasy that only he can give your body. A sharp gasp leaves your lips, your grasp tightening the strands of his hair as your thighs snap close around his head, not allowing him any movement other than continuing to devour your heat.

Your orgasm almost takes you out, it makes you shake, your muscles spasm and twitch uncontrollably as your back arches off the mat underneath you and soon it turns into complete bliss. His fingers continue their relentless pace of pumping in and out of you, lengthening your orgasm while he gently kisses and sucks on your clit until your body slowly goes limp from the incredible pleasure he’s inflicting on you.

Ao’nung’s hand wraps around your thigh, gently tapping your supple skin, silently telling you to untangle yourself from him which you do in an instant, unwrapping your legs from around his shoulders and allowing him to sit up properly. When your eyes look up at him he’s glistening in your slick. His chin, lips, and nose are covered in your juices, making your cheeks heat up from the sight. When your eyes trail down his body you notice the outline of his hardened cock straining against the woven material of his loincloth, making your mouth water at how enlarged it looks and the blots of pre-cum you can see soaking through.

You blink up at Ao'nung, still feeling the warm tingles of aftershocks in your body as he starts to clean you with careful, practiced strokes. The damp cloth is soothing against your oversensitive skin, his touch so light it feels like a whisper. His soft hums of approval and the quiet murmurs of praise in your native tongue send shivers down your spine. "You are perfection, syulang," he murmurs, his deep voice like a soothing balm. "You have given me all I need tonight. Just seeing you like this... it is enough."

Your hairless brows knit together, lips parting as you glance down at the evidence of his own arousal, still taut against the fabric of his loincloth. The woven material struggles to contain him and his cock is practically growing in size by the minute. Your mate is anything but sated, and you know it. “But Ao’nung,” you protest while propping yourself up by your forearms, your voice slightly hoarse as you try to speak. “you haven’t—”

Ao’nung’s hand pauses, the damp cloth resting on your thigh as he takes a moment to study your face and the expression it holds. The slight flush in your cheeks, the way your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, and the glazed-over look in your eyes tell him everything he needs to know. “You’re exhausted, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice laced with special tenderness that’s strictly reserved for you. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair away from your damp forehead, his fingers lingering against your temple. “I pushed you enough tonight. You’ve done more than enough for me.”

“But yawne—”

He shakes his head firmly, though his touch remains soft as he resumes cleaning you with the damp cloth. “No, syulang. You need to rest. It doesn’t feel right to make you do more when I can see how tired you are.” His gaze flickers to your trembling thighs and then back to face that clearly shows how sleepy you are. “I’ll be fine. Just go to sleep.”

As his wife you feel like it is your duty to sexually gratify your husband no matter what so the idea of leaving him unsatisfied sits uneasily in your mind. You reach for his wrist, stopping him mid-movement. “It doesn’t feel right to leave you like this,” you tell him, your voice firm despite the fatigue threatening to pull you under. “You’re my mate. I need to take care of you too.”

Ao’nung’s lips quirk into a faint, affectionate smile. “Stubborn, as always,” he mutters under his breath, though his tone is filled with nothing but adoration. “You’ve already taken care of me. Watching you cum for me is all I needed.”

Still, you persist, your hand tightening slightly around his wrist, wanting him to just give in already and allow you to reciprocate the pleasure he gave you. “Well, It doesn’t feel like enough.”

Ao’nung lets out a low chuckle at how persistent you are and how you’re fighting sleep just so you can return the favor, which makes him just fall deeper in love with you. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “It’s enough for me,” he says softly, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. “I would much rather you rest than push yourself when I know you’re already spent.”

You open your mouth to argue again, but Ao’nung leans forward, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead that causes you to silence your words before you can make them audible. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of it myself if I need to.” He doesn’t mind jerking off to flashbacks of you trembling under his touch, imagining your warmth wrapped around his cock, and running his thumb over his oozing tip and imagining it as your tongue, if it means his mate can get some well deserved rest.

“Ao’nung, just let me—”

“Shh,” he murmurs, his fingers sliding down to your shoulder, guiding you gently to lie back down so you can finally get sleep. “Close your eyes. You’ve done more than enough for me tonight.”

A part of you wants to push and continue fighting him on the idea of letting him handle his hardened cock alone but the weight of exhaustion finally takes over, your body sinking into the soft mat and you allow your mate to win this time. Ao’nung pulls the blanket over you, his hands lingering to make sure you’re fully covered and comfortable.

As your eyelids grow heavy, you hear him whisper in your ear one last time, his voice low and soothing as he lightly strokes your hair, something he knows helps calm your mind and body. “Sleep, my beautiful mate. You’re all I’ll ever need.” As the words leave his lips he settles beside you, his presence warm and protective as you drift off into a dream state. For now he’s here to make sure your night is peaceful and your sleep is without interruption but later tonight, when you’re hours into your much needed rest, he’ll be in the other room stroking his cock to the thought of your exquisite beauty and gorgeous physique.

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[bohemianblasphemy]

Heist.

Billy Butcher x fem!reader

You and Billy team up for an undercover mission in Vought Tower to corner a target for information. Pretending to be a couple was proven to be more realistic than you both bargained for.

Contains: canon violence, gun use, jealous butcher, Mr and Mrs Smith vibes, Billy turned on by reader being a badass, incel vibes from a target, Smut, Car sex, unprotected P in V, creampie, Oral (f! Receiving), handjob, bad writing

A/N: Is it after 3am as I post this? Yes but we back with some Billy goodness! I hope you enjoy ✨

The Boys had a new target - Stan Edgar’s assistant- who was linked to Homelander’s next shady gig, and you were gonna find out what it was. And what better way to get to that information is to be undercover at Vought’s annual celebration of the Seven?

Frenchie, with his self proclaimed ‘Jack of all trades’ skills managed to scrub up some phoney invites for Butcher and yourself, made up with fake aliases - an English tycoon and his brand owner girlfriend- totally inconspicuous.

“You right there, love?”

Billy’s voice cut through the moment of disassociation you were experiencing, wall-flowering the cream colour marbled decor of the Vought Tower walls.

“As good as I can be being in this fucking hellhole, plus my feet are killing me in these heels.” You replied back, pupils raking in his all black suit.

His shirt buttoned all the way to the top and dressed with a tie- it was such a different sight of his usual attire, but did it look hot?

Absolutely it did.

His eyes grazed over the floor length strapless dress that hugged your figure, your hair pinned into a messy updo with a striking red lip that pulled the entire look together.

He thought you looked so damn beautiful…

With a clear of his throat, he squashed those thoughts down into his chest - they both had a job to do.

“Frenchie, have you got eyes on the target?” You murmured, hoping that the ear piece could pick up your hushed tone.

“Target is all the way over in the corner of the ballroom, Mes Amours. Get yourselves over there, pretend you love each other.” Frenchies crackled voice was laced with a teasing tone, before cutting off.

Butcher sighed and rolled his eyes slightly, but couldn’t help the flush that danced along his collar before turning to you, feigning that smirk he always adorned with.

“Shall we then, love?” He offered his arm, which you took a little too eagerly. He didn’t take mind to it - after all It was just for show right?

Right?

Making your way through the crowd, the overwhelmingly pretentious ‘I’m richer and better than you’ conversation was the hot topic amongst the wealthy guests invaded your ears, almost threatening to give you a headache.

Your eyes swung to glance at Butcher, his expression slightly stern as he observed the room. There was no way of steering your attention away from him, not when he looked that good in a suit.

“You’re starin’…” his gruff voice hit your ear, making you snap out of your hypnosis. “Lookin’ at me like you wanna jump my bones, sweetheart…” pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

The action brought a sudden spark to your system- was that apart of the act? Or was it real? Your brain was in overdrive as you tried to interpret what it meant.

Stop it. Focus.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore what had just happened. “Jesus, you’d think these people would at least have a personality.” You feigned a chuckle to change the subject, bringing up the pile of the snobs that were lined up like sardines on the floor. He chuckled, letting it go this time. “Nothing in those brains of theirs love, only money in their pockets.”

Scanning around the sea of people as you settled in your own little corner, your eyes fell on the target who was attempting to chat up one of the many beautiful women in the room- only to be rejected once more.

The scowl on his features was amusing to say the least, similar to how a child would look if they had their iPad taken away from them.

“Eyes are on the subject Frenchie, I have an idea…” you spoke without faltering your expression as you turned to butcher. He raised a brow at you, an expectant look formed as he waited for you to explain your plan.

“Go over to that bar, wait for me to give you a signal.” You created a gesture for butcher to recognise. “Wait what’re you gonna do?” “You’ll see, trust me.” You gave him a reassuring squeeze on his bicep, eyes flicking to his before turning on your heel as you strutted toward the target. Billy watched as you swayed your hips just that little bit, his unsavoury imagination picturing what you would look like with that dress ripped off of you-

“Butcher, what the fuck is she doing?!” Frenchie spoke into the ear piece, a mix of concern and annoyance, giving poor Billy boy a fright. “Fuck knows, French. Just keep an eye out if this go sideways yeah?” Billy sighed, before making his way to the bar- a whiskey on the rocks being poured for him as he watched you like a hawk.

You took a deep breath as you approached the wimpy assistant, hearing him muttering to himself about how ‘all women are the same’- great, one of those guys.

“Well… hey there.” You grimaced at your sham seductive voice, but it didn’t seem to faze the assistant- his attention turning to you. “O-oh hello, um… I’m uh-“ he fumbled as he muttered his name, as he tried to straighten out his suit jacket and adjust his greasy hair.

“Cute name… I’m Layla.” Your fake name rolled off the tongue unnaturally- again, another pinch of cringe filling your being. “What do you do with yourself?”

As the conversation progressed, Billy leered at you from the bar as you flirted with the subject. Watching how you twirled your hair around your finger as you gazed at him like he was created by God herself, swatting your hand against his chest when he supposedly said something funny. He knew it was all fake, but the grip he had on his glass gave away how he truly felt, along with his scowl and flared nostrils.

“Why don’t we…” you whispered, coming close to his ear- your breath tickling his skin. “Go somewhere… private?” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, twirling a finger around his ugly patterned tie.

The man was flushed, nodding rapidly at your offer, his forehead sweating with nerves. “Come this way, there’s an empty office down the hall.” He grabbed your hand, starting to lead you down a hall, beyond the makeshift barrier between the rest of the building and the ballroom.

Your head swivelled in butchers direction, twitching your head to signal him to follow before disappearing into the hallway.

Billy slammed his glass on the bar counter, bee lining to your direction. His thoughts were running rampant with jealousy- wanting to be the one who you were giving bedroom eyes to, the only one that your delicate hands would touch.

He was determined to make sure you knew that you were his, and he was yours.

Turning that corner down the hall and following the sound of your heels, Billy gets a glimpse of an office door- the one that you and the object of his jealously had just entered.

As he reached the door, he saw you perched on a desk, the target moving to stand between your thighs to press sloppy kisses along your neck and chest - Billy’s entire being filled with hot rage and envy as he slammed the door, alerting them of his presence.

Your eyes landed on butcher, smirking as your plan had worked - the asshole was stuck in a room with you two, no where to run or hide. “Cmon man, can’t you see I’m about to get lucky here-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing it.

Billy’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, sure he had seen you take down criminals before but… doing it in a dress and heels? It was doing things to him.

“No fucking way that you’re getting all this.” You grumbled, pulling out the pistol that was strapped to your thigh, pressing it to his temple.

“We have a question for you, and you’re gonna answer them- or…” you pressed the cool metal against his temple. “Your brains are gonna be all over this fucking office.”

“Fuck you, you fucking bitch!” He spat, trying to make a grab at you before Billy yanked him away, slamming him to the desk, his arms locked behind his back.

“Right, cunt. You’re gonna tell us what Homelander is up to, or someone’s bollocks is gonna be cut off and shoved down their throat.” Billy bared his teeth, a death grip on the man’s hair. “I’m not telling you shit-“ he grunted in pain as butcher lifted his head and slammed it against the counter again.

“You will be, or this pretty lady right here-“ he pointed to you. “Is gonna blow a crater into that head of yours. Now, you gonna spill? Or is she gonna paint this nice table with your cerebrum?”

The assistant was silent, trying to writhe out of Billy’s grip, not before you lay a backhanded slap against his cheek. “Answer him, fuckface.” You were aggressive, but that slap was just the tip of the iceberg of what you were capable of.

“Okay fine!” The man whined, making you and Billy look at each other in confusion of how quickly it was to make him break.

“There’s a - a secret lab, a bunker in the Bronx. They’re creating something - like, a stronger dose of V. Homelanders involved with it. They’re using people as Guinea pigs and they’re dying, That’s all I know. Please let me go, please don’t kill me.” He pleaded, tears brimming his eyes.

You looked down at him, a faux pout contorting on your lips. “There you go… see what happens when you do as you’re told?” You smirked before the butt of your pistol hit his temple and knocking him unconscious, his limp body ragdolling to the ground.

“Subject is down, Frenchie. We have the information and heading back to base.” You said into your piece, hearing Frenchie confirm that he had received your message.

Butcher stood in place, his blown pupils never leaving your figure as you sat perched on the table, raising the skirt of your dress to put your gun back in the holster.

He couldn’t take it anymore, moving to plant his feet in front of you- pressing himself to your front. He pulled up your chin, making you look at him- taking your surprise.

“Fuckin’ hell love, seeing you do that…” his calloused thumb pulling down at your bottom lip, smudging some of your lipstick. “Drives me fuckin’ crazy, always has.”

A small chuckle left your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to his thumb- all those teasing words and small touches exchanged between you both since you both met all lead to this moment... never to turn back.

“Watching me slapping people around turns you on now does it?” You purred, straightening his jacket and tie. “Mmm… yeah. Makes me wanna fuck the shit outta-“

“Oh mon dieu, don’t dirty talk on the job.” Frenchie groaned, cockblocking the situation to save his poor ears.

Butcher let out a laugh, putting his forehead on yours. “Bloody hell, making me forget we’re on a job there.” His eyes averted to the unconscious body on the ground.

You rolled your eyes as he stood up straight again. “Let’s get outta here then hmm?” You said softly.

He nodded in agreement, taking a hold of your hips to shimmy you down the furniture piece, pulling you into his side as his arm extends around you- his palm just above your ass.

As the pair of you exited, there was a shout down the hallway- security guards had noticed the barrier had been moved, catching you both in the restricted area.

“Shit run!” Billy practically dragged you further down the hall- searching for any way out - anything to get out to the car. Your feet ran, trying to ignore the grief of pain your shoes were giving you through your soles.

“Frenchie we need a way out right fuckin’ now.” You said, your words becoming breathless. “There’s an exit on your left at the end of the hall, the closest way to get to the car. fous le camp de là!” The Frenchman’s now frantic tone cut off, you both had to run and get out of that tower.

Your hands pushed hard on that door as you reached the exit, the home run towards Billy’s Cadillac not leaving room for any fault. The security guards started to threaten their use of weapons, the familiar sounds of rounds clicking in their hand guns.

You winced, starting to limp from the poor choice of footwear. Billy noticed you falling a few feet behind, turning around to get back to you- picking your arm to sling over his shoulder to help carry you the last few hundred meters.

“Nearly there, we’ve got it love.” He reassured, his free hand reaching for the keys in his pocket - becoming in range to unlock the car as you approached.

As soon as you both reached the car, the sound of shots echoing in the alley way rang in your ears as he threw open the passenger door, pushing you into your seat and slamming the door as Billy slid over the bonnet, getting into the drivers side.

There was no time to strap in, Billy putting the pedal to the metal and screeching out of that alley way, dodging any bullets ricocheting towards the car as Billy reached top speed, twisting through the bustling New York streets.

“We can’t go back to the hideout just yet, gotta lay low somewhere so we don’t compromise the others. That alright?” Butcher glanced over at you as your fingers took out your earpiece before fiddling with the fastening on your heels, a breathy sigh of relief as you freed yourself from them. “Y-yeah… that’s okay. Let’s get to a secluded spot.” You replied softly, the exhaustion from your escapade was chasing after you.

He chuckled as he watched your relieved face from being able to rest, taking out his ear piece.

It was silent for a while, the outside landscape dissipated from the city lights to more natural surroundings.

“You did well, sweetheart…” he complimented, pulling his signature smirk and placing his hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze before pulling back. “So damn good…”

A small giggle and teasing smile came over you, a swipe of your tongue over your bottom lip as you watched him drive.

“Mm… I could hear you praise me any day.”

“Trust me lovey, I’ll give it to you in abundance.”

Your hand snaked down to his own thigh, moving agonisingly close to where he wanted you most- your palm rubbing up against the smooth fabric of his clothed cock.

He let out a deep sigh through his nose, his arousal spreading through his body - the feeling of your hand on him was more addictive than any drug he had ever taken.

“I cant wait any longer, I’m pullin’ over.” Billy huffs, drifting down a dirt path- travelling a few kilometres to a secluded area concealed by trees and foliage.

Putting his Cadillac into park, his darkened gaze turns to you. “Get in the back, now.” He ordered, his words pooling in your core. Without a word you unbuckled your seatbelt, opening the car door to get into the back- draping over the leather seats.

Butcher followed suit, taking off his suit jacket and loosening his tie as he crawled over you- his lips pressing against yours hard, almost bruising as he desperately sought out your taste.

Your hands pulled at his dark hair, a deep growl from within his chest spilling into your mouth as he moved his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and coaxing moans and his name to fall from your kiss bitten lips- sounds he had longed to hear.

“I’ve waited… too fuckin’ long for this.” His voice was husky as his lips trailed down your collar, before flipping you over onto your stomach. “As much as I love this dress on ya, I need to see what’s waitin’ underneath.” He smirked as he took hold of the zipper and pulled it down, your back becoming exposed to him. “Oh I’m sure you’ll like what waiting for you…”

Billy peeled the rest of your dress off of your body- admiring the arch of your back, the roundness of your underwear covered ass as he ran his large palm across your skin- hooking his index finger under the material to pull it down your thighs, leaving your silken cunt on display for him. “So fuckin’ wet and I ain’t done nothing yet.” He chuckled, running his finger through your delicate folds, earning another delicious moan from you.

“Billy… please - do something.” You whispered, desperately needing some relief on your aching core.

He adjusted himself behind you, his strong fingers holding the apex of your thighs open as he leaned in close, his hot breath hitting your center- his tongue dragging flatly against your cunt, savouring your taste before dipping back down, lapping at your clit.

The way he felt against you was unbelievable- that mouth of his was to die for. Your hips uncontrollably bucked up against his face, moaning at the sensation of his dirty mouth bringing you to euphoria.

“God Billy… fuck!” You whined, unable to stay still before he dug his thick digits into your ass cheeks, holding you in place as he continued- not stopping until you came hard on his tongue. “B-Billy I-i can’t hold- please, Im gonna cum…” you breathed, unable to hold your head up as your thighs shuddered- a high pitched moan erupting from within you as your orgasm washed over you.

“Such a good girl, so sweet…” he grumbled as he dragged his tongue over you once more, manoeuvring it over your slit- pressing a kiss to it before turning you around onto your back.

He kissed you with that same lusty passion as he did before, feeling your hands unbutton his shirt to reveal his chest. The soft defined muscles, tufts of chest hair, faded scars and freckles that riddled his chest left you in awe, your fingers touching his hot flesh as you worked them down to the hem of his slacks.

You worked fast to unzip them and pull them down slightly, giving you room to release his cock from his boxers. His hard length was leaking pre cum as you ran your delicate fingers over it- slowly and softly pumping it, earning a grunt of pleasure.

Billy panted, burying his head into your neck. “Feels good-“ he managed to get some words out, but your actions made him feel like putty in your hands. “Someone likes that…” you purred, biting down on his earlobe.

“Fuck love I need to fuck you, I can’t take it.” He breathed, swatting your hand gently from his cock.

He made sure you lay comfortable in the back seat, before sitting on his knees in front of you, running his length along your wet cunt - before sliding himself into you with an audible grunt, your tight walls squeezed around him as you let out a cry of sinful sounds.

“ move, please…” you whispered, grabbing onto his shoulders as he began to thrust at a faster pace. The car began to rock, the windows began to fog as Billy took you- his palms kneading your breasts as he watched your sensual expressions, motivating him to fuck you a little faster.

His thrusts never faltered, his mouth falling open in the overwhelming feeling of being in you, finally having you…

“So fuckin’ tight, and all mine…” he bit down on your shoulder, causing another cry to burst from your lips.

It didn’t take much time before his thrusts became sloppy, his cock throbbing to announce his release. “Gonna cum- fuck…” he gritted his teeth.

“Fill me up, I want it. Give it to me…” you pulled at his hair once more, a higher pitched grunt filling the Cadillac as one final thrust made his orgasm wash over him as he rutted his cum deep within you.

Billy lay there for a moment, deep breathing coming from both of your bodies before his hovered above you- giving you a warm smile and pushing some hair away from your face.

“Beautiful…” he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled back up at him, a soft blush crawling across your cheeks. “Who’d have thought that the mission would end like this?” You chuckled.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, love…”

Tags <3: @bluemerakis

[multiheadcanons]

REQUEST: MERCS AND ILLNESS

scout: get the lysol, get the masks, get the bleach, get the mop, get the duster, get the throw up bucket, get the ice pack— what the fuck do you mean we don’t have an ice pack— get the god damn frozen peas then, get the crackers, get the ginger ale— NAME BRAND GINGER ALE, get some gloves— no, get the good ones the doc special orders for the infirmary. not the shitty ones from resupply. scout is rushing around cleaning and disinfecting everything he can see. got a little handkerchief tied around his head. throws the throw up bucket and the frozen peas and the crackers and the ginger ale in the room and slams the door. the team takes illnesses very seriously. nobody can afford to get sick.

soldier: keeping a solid ten feet between himself and the sick. soldier’s immune system is absolutely shot, and even exchanging a “hi” is enough for him to catch the bug. sends you love from afar. will slide some books under the door for you to entertain yourself with. they’re all war journals. if he hears vomiting, he’ll come in and hold your hair back, but he’s in like a hazmat suit. it’s only right, he thinks. gives you a couple rough pats on the back when you’re done emptying your stomach. he’ll keep you company for a moment while he’s still in the suit, but he gets claustrophobic so it won’t be long before he’s on his way.

pyro: pyro’s immune system is also shot. but that won’t stop them! pyro has an emotional duty to be the friend who will be there when someone is sick. they’ll lay in the bed, or on the floor with you. they’ll have some movies picked out for you both, and some coloring books. they’re the only one who will stay in the room with you if you’re sick. empties the puke bucket, fields your calls, does your chores, then gets sick because they were huffing your illness like whipits.

demo: demo, if beat by heavy to the kitchen, is with scout, cleaning and disinfecting. good god, nobody can afford to get sick in this day and age. uses pyro as the food and drink mule. if you’re really going through it he’ll send a bottle of whisky with them, and a note saying “just one shot”. it’s a trick his grandma taught him when he was young. it always made him feel better! it kinda breaks his heart to see people physically ill. he’ll tell you the only way past it is through.

heavy: cooking. so much soup. and it’s hot. not just temperature wise (it’s boiling, fresh out the pot, enjoy, he put a lot of love in it) but spice wise too. you can always tell exactly who is in the kitchen based on the meal you get. heavy’s is probably the meal that is most effective. if you were already runny, this is clearing your entire body of all of its mucus. you’re getting a whole detox. you won’t throw it up, shockingly. but you probably aren’t gonna enjoy the other result either. but god, you can breathe like nobody’s business now. you feel your oxygenation rate is optimized.

engineer: if he’s not an extra body cleaning common areas (which he will not be unless forced), or beat by heavy to the kitchen to cook you something light, he is meticulously disinfecting everything in his personal areas. who knows what you touched that he touched that had whatever you got on it, all he knows is its gotta go. the best his workshop has smelled in a while. it will smell like oil soon enough. he’s not touching you with a ten foot pole. he’s sorry, he probably appreciates you and likes you, maybe, somewhat, and it has nothing to do with you, but if he does get sick he’s gonna be pissy with you. won’t even approach the hallway of the room you’re in until the cleaning crew has gone through first. he’ll let you know he’s thinking about you through the door. now he’s gonna go throw away his gloves. ain’t even worth washing ‘em.

medic: probably the most normal response for a doctor to have, and the most normal he will ever be. he will come in, gloved and masked (god he’s so hot with the mask), he will take your temperature, he will ask what symptoms you’re having, he will give you a pill and the water/juice/soup/whisky/liquid to swallow it, you’ll see his brows furrow as he looks at you, and he’ll tut and pat your cheek. “poor baby”, he’ll croon at you, and he’ll leave, the door closing with a light click. and you will have a psychedelic 18 hour benadryl equivalent fever dream. and you’ll wake up and feel a little better. if he hates you he’ll do the same things but in his plague doctor mask. fuck you.

snipes: nope. in his van. out of commission. do not interact. will make emergency trips to the store for cleaning supplies and extra liquids but he’s not coming near you or that base. sorry. get well soon. he might wave and give a thumbs up from outside if he catches you looking like a sad victorian child at the window. he will yell at you if you open the window to talk to him. unless you’re masked. if you’re really going through it, he’s got a set of walkie talkies, he’ll send you one through pyro and park under your window so you have more company than pyro and the doctor. clean that before you give it back.

spy: spy will help clean (and is normally the one to force engie to help clean) because many hands make quick work. he is masked and gloved. if the cleaning crew takes him by your room he might slide a cigarette in there for you (always makes him feel better when he’s sick), but he’s not gonna linger long enough to knock on the door and acknowledge you verbally, nor does he want to linger to hear you vomit or cough your lungs out. after that he is also poofed out of existence. you will not see him, hear from him, or get whiff of his whereabouts again until you are fully healthy, then he will interact with you as if nothing happened. he’s glad you’re back to normal, though.

[op-81-lvr]

Lando meeting oscar's brother for the first time and going 'oh no, he's hot' then proceeds to make a fool of himself not knowing that reader is dating logan, logan then takes lando of to the side to intimidate lando off before he takes one look at the pathetic face lando makes without him realizing he's doing so and goes 'fuck, this guys kinda cute in a pathetic kinda way' and then proceeds to leave and serch for reader, when they both find each other the basically say 'we should add lando to our relationship so we can cuddle him into oblivion' which leads to them flirting with lando, but lando rationalizes that they aren't actually flirting with him till thier all at a bar celebrating another of lando's home-race wins and logan and reader just kiss him as a reward for winning his home-race, cause that boy would be in so much denial he wouldn't belive it was real because he 'didn't deserve it'

Sorry this is so long got really into it.

–🍑

Hi Peach, this is not too long. I live detailed requests its so much easier for me to craft a story around them.

You and Logan started dating when you were teenagers so you were going strong when you met Lando

Being Oscars brother and Logans boyfriend you were in attendance to a fair few races. Obviously not all of them, you still had to work.

When you met Lando for the first time you were smartly dressed for the paddock and hospitality. Hair nicely done and sunglasses resting on your face.

You were talking to Oscar and Logan about whatever. Logan and Oscar were friends, nothing unusual there.

Lando somehow failed to notice the fact that yours and Logans hands were interlinked. Logan noticed him looking at you though.

He didn’t say anything in the moment but once the little group had dispersed Logan pulls Lando aside before he could leave.

Logan just tells Lando that yous are dating, Lando looks so fucking pathetic when he looked at Logan.

After FP2 Logan found you again for a proper chat about it.

‘I think we should add a third’ Logan said as he looked at you from the bed in your hotel room.

‘If you mean Lando then I agree, hes such a princess. He would fit right in’ You said, barely even looking you from your phone.

‘Really? No resistance or anything?’ Logan began rambling. You put your phone down and got up, Shaking your head.

‘I think hes cute and you clearly do too, you’re all wound up just speaking about it’ You said, acknowledging the blush on his cheeks

You and Logan spent god know how long persuing him. And he was not getting it. Brushing it off as absolutely nothing

It wasn’t until Oscar asked him if you and Logan had asked him out yet then he even looked back and realised.

He won at Silverstone and obviously wanted to get sloshed. And he did, he was blackout drunk by 11pm

When he woke up he was in bed with you and Logan, one at either side, and a pounding headache.

He was still in las night clothes but at least he was still dressed, means nothing happened.

“Morning Lan” You said, patting his chest gently and leaving and unprompted kiss on his cheek. You did know he wasn’t your boyfriend right?

It wasn’t until Logan woke up and also kissed him and then kissed you that he realised what was happening. Had he agreed to be your third last night?

‘Your brother is going to kill me’ He pointed at you

‘He knew before you did dumbass’

[whumblr]

Under the weather

Crossed out - Continued from ch.12 - Prologue

-

The morning buzzer tore him right out of his REM sleep.

Lucas squeezed his eyes back shut when the bright lights blinked on after several soft little pings of the fluorescent lamps. He didn’t even groan. Just lay still on his cot, letting the initial shock seep out of his body. Fuck, it felt like he had fallen asleep just twenty minutes ago. All he wanted was to fall back into that deep, deep sleep again.

With his eyes still closed, he swung his legs over the edge of the cot, the rest of his body sluggishly and reluctantly following. A familiar nausea of not getting enough sleep washed over him. He doubled over, head in his hands, cursing softly.

He knew what happened when he would ignore these early warning signs; powering through would usually leave him even worse off the next day, the nausea a soft prelude to actually falling ill. And out in the real world, he was absolutely useless like this so he had learned to just go back to bed for a few hours and catch up on work later.

Here, though, in hell, that was no option. He had to get up. Whether he wanted to or not.

He lingered on the bed for a few moments as if crawling back under the blanket was something to even consider. It absolutely wasn’t. The mere thought of Nero marching into his small cell was enough to get moving. He’d probably get thrown right over the railing if he asked for another hour of sleep. That would give a stronger shock of adrenaline than that buzzer though…

Rocking back and forth, as if gaining momentum to push off, he forced himself up.

A stronger wave of nausea hit him hard; worming up to his head, fogging his brain and making his head feel oh so light. It caught a hold of his legs and he teetered lightly. His body protested every stumbled step along the way, as if a magnet kept him tied to the bed, and it did not appreciate the cold water splashed in his face or the gross minty taste in his mouth.

To be fair, he was a little surprised his body had held on for so long. Given his injuries, that didn’t get time to heal and only increased with every passing day, the mental exhaustion and stress, the physical exhaustion—yeah, he’d expected to hit a limit earlier.

He got dressed, ignored the nausea’s tight grip around his stomach, and stepped ‘outside’, staring straight ahead and pretending like he did every day that these ordeals weren’t getting to him.

This too, will pass.

And of course, it did. Though it persisted through the entire day, eventually, his nausea retreated.

The next morning, predictably, he felt feverish.

Told you so, his body seemed to gloat.

Something hot and uncomfortable pressed against his forehead. There was no fever, yet. Just another warning to take his fucking rest today.

Yeah. Again, not an option.

He didn’t feel like getting flattened against the wall so he stood against it willingly, waiting for roll-call. When Nero got closer, he puffed himself up, forcing himself to look alive, blinked hard to expel the glaze over his eyes, and tensed his posture.

Nero passed him without giving him a second glance. Lucas deflated, both in relief and irritation.

But Nero did stop a few cells ahead, in front of a man who also seemed to be coming down with something but didn’t even have the strength to hide it. He stood slumped over, panting lightly, staring blankly at some point of nothing.

“How are you feeling, Santos?” Nero’s voice rumbled.

“Not too well, sir,” the man panted.

Nero studied him and was Lucas imagining it or did he actually looked concerned. Then he nodded and said: “You are excused for the day. Hoogland, can you take him to the infirmary after this?”

The other prisoner nodded.

Lucas clenched his jaw shut before anyone could see him gaping. But, what in the actual fuck, you could do that? That was allowed? Being sick?!

He watched, dumbfounded, as Santos and his cellmate shuffled along, coughing and sniffling, and he was rather jealous that the guy got to spent the day resting. But the moment had passed and he was going to have to suck it up today.

At breakfast he sat alone, because despite his best attempts to hide how he was feeling, everyone saw right through him and weren’t taking their chances of catching whatever was lurking in his system. Not to worry guys, this was merely a case of complete and utter exhaustion. Something that always lingered in the air here but probably wasn’t contagious. Still. He couldn’t blame them…

At a calm moment during laundry duty, he found a quiet place and snuggled up on the folded towels, crossed him arms, and allowed himself to close his eyes for a few moments. Bliss raced through him, his shoulders relaxed and he let out a content sigh.

“Lucas.” Trey’s gentle voice pulled him back.

“Hm.”

“Wake up, you can’t sleep here.”

“Nero’s not here anyway,” Lucas mumbled, lightly turning away.

“No.” Trey acknowledged. “But you’ll want to be careful. There are always people who are looking to get into Nero’s good books by ratting out fellow inmates.”

His eyes shot open. Found Trey’s wry smile and he glanced around to see if anyone had caught him breaking rules. Most inmates just focused on their own duties. A sigh. He squeezed his eyes closed for a second and when he opened them, found Trey’s outstretched hand in front of him. Reluctant yet grateful, he accepted it.

-

The next morning, he couldn’t pretend anymore. His fever had stormed up overnight and he felt like death. His head was pounding, every heartbeat banging against his skull, lighting up the pain all over his body, his bruises, his muscles.

He ran a hand over his face, scratching over his morning stubble and his skin was damp and uncomfortably hot.

Just getting out of bed left him panting and he caught himself leaning heavily on the toilet/sink combination thing. The basin felt eerily cold under his warm hands.

Boldened by what he’d seen yesterday, he allowed himself to show his weakness this time. He practically stumbled through the doorway and leant back against the wall for a moment to catch his breath. At the first sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, he pushed himself off, but didn’t stand up straight. Didn’t put on a show either. He slumped over, didn’t choke back his coughs, and took deep shuddering breaths that just didn’t give him enough air to calm his breathing.

The heavy footsteps stopped in front of him. Still panting lightly, Lucas glanced up at Nero. There was no concerned look on his face—he knew he had imagined it yesterday – but Nero didn’t straight up ignore him either.

“You don’t look well, Varga.”

“Running a fever, sir,” Lucas whispered. There was no need to feel his forehead – also really, just preferably don’t – he could practically feel the heat radiating from him.

“I see,” Nero said, already turning away. “That’s too bad.”

-

Tag list: @gala1981 @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop @andithewhumper @tippytappytyping @suspicious-whumping-egg @cherrychupachup @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @withdrawingramen @light-me-on-pyre @treasureguardingdragon @notactuallyluska @fortunately-cool-penguin @b0amagination

[confession-of-the-heart]

re: outgrowing AkuRoku, I think the biggest thing is… how to phrase it… it’s not just the obvious age problem in and of itself, but rather that the way fans were reading into their interactions in KH2 (when it first blew up) ended up being completely off base?

That is, to say: AkuRoku is fundamentally completely out of character—for both Axel and Roxas alike. It’s based on a version of the characters that simply doesn’t have any basis in their actual selves, and so there is a major sense of “he would not fucking say that”-type incongruity whenever depictions of it are still encountered—again, age stuff notwithstanding. I’m not trying to make a moral argument here but a character based argument. I would actually also argue that part of this is also wrapped up in XemSai, which is also an outdated take on those respective characters for similar reasons.

There’s a whole web of character interactions and past fandom interpretations which were extremely popular for some time that just don’t have any basis in reality now, so to speak. To elaborate:

Back during the era that KH2 released in, people were going absolutely nuts running with headcanon-heavy interpretations of the characters based on an extremely limited scope of canonical knowledge about them. We knew basically nothing about anyone in the Organization circa KH2. Character ages weren’t necessarily as obvious back then, so a lot of people just sort of went with the popular narrative and assumed Axel was a teenager around Roxas’ age without really giving that idea any critical thought. People with shipping goggles glued to their faces further decided to interpret Axel and Roxas’ emotionally charged interactions in the same manner as they did characters like Sora and Riku.

Meanwhile, it’s not terribly apparent that Axel and Saïx have any connection beyond just working for the same group—and most people see a hot boss interacting with his hot right-hand man, and make a ship out of it.

If the series had stopped with KH2 and we never got any further information about them this would have been all well and good, but, well… then we got more context.

Basically, KH has a shipping meta, and the meta changed—bigtime.

Days comes out, and we get context that tells us Axel is hanging onto his relationship with Roxas and Xion as a way of coping with his deteriorating relationship with Saïx. We get to see what real homoerotic tension in KH looks like between Axel and Saïx; we find out that Saïx has no actual loyalty to or affection for Xemnas, and is in fact overly preoccupied with whatever Axel is doing to the point of being a massive harassing prick to him and his friends over it.

As for Roxas, it’s made strikingly obvious that Axel’s relationship with the kid is one of a mentor—a significant portion of Days is devoted to seeing Axel more-or-less raising Roxas, along with Xion, and explaining basic concepts to them in much the same manner as you would a young child. They’re both less than a year old, after all.

Some liken it more to a family-type relationship and say big-brother while others say dad-like, but no matter which way you shake it it’s very clear by days that the tension in Axel and Roxas’ relationship in KH2 is simply not romantic in any sense of the word. A lot of it actually lies in their relationship with Xion, whose presence had been erased by KH2’s time, but the psychological effect of her presence still lingered.

Add to this the context of BBS up through KH3 giving us a much more intimate and in-depth longstanding history between Axel and Saïx, and there you have it. The character development meta has effectively rendered AkuRoku obsolete as a ship.

So I don’t know if saying one has personally outgrown it is necessarily even “correct” so much as that the series itself thoroughly debunked the entire basis that people had for it in the first place. If you respect where the characters are now, outgrowing it is the natural response. The only people still hanging onto it at this point are by default hanging onto an OOC, even shallow, interpretation of the characters.

Maybe some people hate that things changed. I do often see people talking about how they liked Axel better in CoM, or the Organization better in KH2–but KH has always been a series where the characters develop significantly and show different facets of themselves over time. Personally I’m much more energized by all the new material the series has given us since I first fell in love with it in the 2000s, and the way its characters have surprised me and become so much more fleshed out as people… but some people are more apt to cling to popular fanon and nostalgia until the day they die, I suppose. Well, they can do what they want.

~~~

[paperyowl]

"So good. Tommy, you're so good."

It's tame as far as praise goes - and entirely breathless on Buck's part as he gaps when Tommy fucks up into him with a sharp movement that seems entirely involuntary, almost unseating him from his perch on Tommy's lap. Oh. Oh.

"So strong, so stunning, so good - Fucking me so well," Buck tells him, stuck on the realization that Tommy liked the praise, reacted like it was some far raunchier dirty talk - his eyes flicker up to Buck, looking as stunned and dazed as Buck feels when every other thrust lights his spine up with electric pleasure.

Tommy drops his head a little, breaking eye contact. But not before Buck sees something flicker in them that he doesn't expect, something small and sad. Something that aches in Buck's chest because it is so familiar - but he can't quite put his finger on it.

"What's-"

Buck breaks of with a moan - Tommy never breaks the rhythm of fucking up into Buck entirely, just stutters a little when Buck spreads his legs as far as they will go, attempting to balance on the chair, but really he's at Tommy's mercy, reliant on his tight grip at Buck's hips. Tommy shifts with him, holding him securely, keeping him safe.

But Buck can't push that frisson of the worry out of his head - cups Tommy's face with both hands, tilting it up. He meets the kiss that Tommy dives in for with pleasure - but Buck doesn't let go of Tommy's face when he draws back. He feels Tommy's attempt to break his hold and-

"Wait."

It's not loud, but Tommy stills immediately - his sweet, geourgous boyfriend - and this time Tommy's eyes showed him nothing but sweet concern

"What's wrong, baby?"

But Buck has seen it. Buck understands.

"You know that you're stunning, right?"

Tommy's face does something complicated - and Buck is certain that the only reason he doesn't hide the expression immediately by glancing away is his concern for Buck. That he'd done something wrong.

"Evan, I-"

"You're like the full package. You're smoking hot and so gentle, and you give it to me so well and-"

"Evan, stop."

There is a shuddering sigh that Tommy presses to Buck's shoulder, hands flexing on Buck's hips. Even with Tommy's breath so warm and wet, Buck feels an odd kind of cold now.

"I don't need you to butter me up, you know. I know I'm..."

Tommy trails off. But Buck doesn't need him to say the words; he knows them intimately, knows how destructive they could be. He feels Tommy laugh a little, trying to brush the whole thing off.

No. No way. He wouldn't allow Tommy to think that way.

Buck pulls away, watching Tommy's face fall, and grabs his wrist to make him get up. There is a fair bit of confusion as Buck leads Tommy all the way to his bed, only to push him down in the middle of it and settle right back in his lap.

"You are good," Buck says as he keeps trading kisses with a wide-eyed Tommy. "Let me show you?"

(Buck proceeds to do just that, pouring every ounce of love he has for this man into lingering touches until he slips Tommy back inside him and rides him until they both come. Until he has fingered Tommy, slow and steadily back to hardness, leaving marks and wet kisses all over his body, before fucking Tommy face-to-face, whispering to him the whole time. Until Buck tells him that pleading wouldn't do him any good, but he could always repeat Buck's words and see if that worked. Until Tommy gasps out, "I believe you, I believe you" like a prayer, like an absolution - and Buck gentles him after, kissing away the tears, bundling him up against his own body, never letting go.)

buck making it a mission to get tommy to accept praise. buck riding tommy in a chair. buck praising the absolute fuck out of him but every time tommy looks away, breaks eye contact, winces at a compliment and, or deflects or rejects it, buck slides off, almost completely—releasing his grip on tommy’s cock— withholds all the right kind of touch tommy aches for in the moment and delays his orgasm until or unless tommy can look him in the eyes, accept the compliment. until he can repeat it back to buck over and over and over again to some degree of sincere. until he can praise himself.

[frnkiebby]

i am legitimately going to sob~🎃

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[howdoyousleep3]

never in my life have i wanted a Daddy more than i do rn 😭

[gorespawn]

also while we're here i would like to share the two iterations of tumblr user gorespawn that have existed since i abandoned this blog back in like early 2021. Who wants me

[skitskatdacat63]

Its so crazy when you play a game in dub(or watch smth ig) and you listen to the other ones(in this case, the intended language) and its like HUHHHH!?!?! My boy does NOT sound like that !!!

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Karlach is very very nice tree and I am a squirrel heh

If you need help with the game just ask because before BG3 I had no idea about the playstyle either-

god yeah me too, i want to climb onto Karlach's back and hang from her shoulders she is my favorite and i love her

thank you!!! i'm very slowly getting the hang of it (not that i'm good by any stretch), but i'm having fun!!

[iamanartichoke]

Last night (well, this morning, really; it was like 3am) I slipped and fell down a Loki disk horse rabbit hole and, to be frank, I am already exhausted and season 2 hasn't even started yet. I'm not gonna lie, idk if I'm going to be able to fandom-along for season 2; I might just end up quietly watching on my own and keeping my thoughts to myself. Which - isn't as fun, really, so lol fuck me I guess.