#and now really all i want to do is go home and lay down in bed and maybe cry a bit

[c0s-lettuce]

Hii if it’s okay, can I please request a Sergei x fem!reader where she was walking home and was in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something bad guys were doing and was in danger, but she was saved by Sergei (the bad guys were on his list so he happened to show up). She meets Sergei again when the same bad guys come after her again because she had seen too much, and he saves her again. Because it seems that the bad guys will not stop going after her because of what she saw, Sergei brings her to his cabin to protect her until he has taken out all of the bad guys? He’s super protective of her and she’s really scared about everything that’s going on and feels safe with him, and after a while of staying with him, they both start to fall in love and she doesn’t want to leave even after everything is safe 🥹

guardian angel - sergei kravinoff x reader

fem!reader, minor movie spoilers

a/n: thank you for the request! sorry this took a while, i hope i did it justice 😭 happy holidays everyone!

word count: 3317

warnings: descriptions of violence, mentions of blood

A shortcut. That's all it was supposed to be - a quick detour down an alley. You've taken it a few times before, usually to escape the rain like tonight. It's a light sprinkle. One that might have been pleasant if it wasn't for the dark and your long day at work. Your walks home were, fortunately, mostly uneventful.

But not tonight. You'd blame it on bad luck. Or fate, if such a thing exists.

Unfriendly-sounding voices should have been your first clue to something being amiss. But curiosity drives you forward. Peering through the darkness, you see two figures surrounding a third person kneeling on the ground.

It seems like a confrontation of sorts, a heavily one-sided confrontation. They don't notice you, so you deem this a good moment to leave. You back away as quietly as possible. But as you approach the street, a black car pulls up, blocking the entrance.

The next few moments pass in a blur. There's a scream. A horrific squelching noise. You look back to see the third person now slumped on the ground. A silver glint in the hand of one of the other men. Two more men exit the car. There's shouting from one side, then both. You realise you've been noticed. You panic. Then, chaos.

You're unsure if you fell or were pushed, but you end up on the ground. You scramble away, and your back hits the wall of the alleyway. Bodies begin to go flying around you. Any attention that was paid to you is diverted. One man is in the middle of it all. He seems to know his way around killing, like a hunter.

Your front-row show is interrupted when you're dragged to your feet. A cold barrel is pressed against your temple. You freeze as you're held hostage. The hunter pauses and turns to you. Four bodies now lay dead, all killed in different ways. The man holding you is the only one left.

"Enough. Stop now, or the girl dies," the voice behind you speaks.

You notice that despite the man's intimidation, fear laces his tone. It's a mutual feeling as you stand silent and wide-eyed, afraid to move. The hunter raises his hands as if surrendering. You're not sure what to make of it.

But you don't get given the time to decide. In the blink of an eye, the hunter pulls out a knife, flicks it out and throws it towards your head. For a split second, you think it's all over. You squeeze your eyes shut. Either by bullet or blade, this is the end for you.

But then, the man's grip around you loosens, followed promptly by a dull thump. You turn around to see what happened. The man lies on the ground, a knife protruding from him square in the eye. Blood begins to pull around his head.

You bring your hands to your mouth and back away from the body. The sight is unlike anything you've seen. You're stuck between screaming, throwing up or passing out, but a voice from behind interrupts you.

"Are you hurt?" it asks, gruff and breathless.

You flinch at the sound. You turn back to look at the owner of the voice. The hunter stands before you, covered in the odd splatter of blood, hair and clothes mussed. You stare for a moment, bewildered.

Once you find your bearings, you reply, "Uh, no… no, I'm alright."

He nods, walking past you to retrieve his knife. The sound of the blade leaving the man's head makes you cringe.

"Sorry," he says, cleaning the knife on the man's clothes, "I would've warned you before I threw it, but that might have defeated the purpose."

You don't respond. Was that… a joke? What are you supposed to say to that?

In your silence, the hunter looks at you again. "You live around here?"

Again, it takes you a moment to answer. "Yeah, just a few blocks away."

"You should get home," he tells you, standing up. "Forget you saw anything."

You nod. That sounds like a good idea. A great idea, even. You force yourself to move, deciding on the regular route home instead of continuing this shortcut.

The hunter watches you pass but speaks up again before you get too far. "I'm sorry you had to see all that."

You pause, taking in his… somewhat considerate words. You glance back at him and mutter, "Thank you."

Once again, he nods, sighing as he looks down at the bodies. You turn away again and continue your way home. The journey passes in a haze, and you immediately go to bed once you arrive.

As days pass, that night feels like a fever dream. Details don't come to you, with everything being a messy blur in your head. It was probably a good thing. However, the only part that remains clear is the elusive hunter.

A tall, muscular frame. Wavy, brown hair. Bright, blue eyes.

You clear your head of these thoughts as you stand and pack up your things. You're the last person left in your work building today, having stayed late to finish some extra work.

Just as you're about to head downstairs, you hear a loud crash. It's followed by more sounds, a mix of grunts, thumps and things breaking. You look around but can't see anything from where you are.

You grow anxious and search your desk for a weapon. You settle on a large paperweight, gripping it firmly and sneaking out. You bypass the elevators and go to the emergency staircase, carefully opening the door and ensuring it's empty inside before slowly heading down.

The sounds have stopped once you reach the bottom. You poke your head out, giving an obscured view of the ground floor. As expected, it's a mess of broken glass and wood. Crimson paints the floor, blood coming from three bodies. There's one man left standing. You recognise him immediately. The hunter.

You let your guard down, lowering the paperweight in your hands. You step out and look around again, getting a better look at the damage. You feel bad for whoever has to pay for all this. You turn to the hunter. He's already looking at you.

"It's you," you say.

"It's me," he replies. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, completely fine. You?" you ask.

"I'm good," he says, looking around at the mess. "We should stop meeting like this."

You let out a small huff. "You're telling me. Who are these people?"

"They're part of a large criminal organisation. Their influence runs deep. They have people all over the continent."

"Criminal organisation…? Why are they here?"

"You saw them kill someone. You're a liability."

"They were here for me? But didn't you kill everyone who saw me?"

"They have eyes and ears everywhere. Must've found out some other way."

The thought unsettles you, and you sincerely hope you won't regularly be pursued by criminals. Suddenly, you miss the comfort of your home.

Then, the hunter speaks up. "I'm Sergei, by the way."

You're slightly caught off guard. But you tell him your name, and he repeats it with a nod.

"You should get going," he says. "The police will be here soon. I'll handle things here."

"Are you sure? This is my workplace."

"I'm sure. Go," he insists.

You acquiesce, collecting your things again. Before you leave, you and Sergei exchange contact details. He tells you to call him if anything happens. Once again, you find yourself walking away from the hunter and a pile of dead bodies he saved you from. But at least now you know his name.

You've been home for the past few days since the building became a crime scene. You gave the police a vague description of what happened, and they haven't bothered you since.

You think about the hunter, who you now know to be Sergei Kravinoff. A Google search and some light stalking didn't reveal much about the man. And with no work to do, you continue to lie around at home.

But one morning, you wake up to a phone call. It's Sergei.

"Hello?" you answer.

"Where are you right now?" he asks immediately.

"At home. Why?" you say.

"Hard to explain, but you're in danger. I'm going to send you a location. I need you to go there. I'll have someone meet you."

He hangs up before you can get another word in. Seconds later, he sends the location for a terminal at the airport. Despite the abruptness and absurdity, his words worry you, so you quickly pack a small bag and head to the airport.

A dark-haired woman greets you at the terminal. You board the small aircraft landed there as she takes the pilot seat. She answers a few of the many questions you have. Sergei has been in different parts of Europe to eliminate this criminal organisation. It seems you have not left the group's radar because they had your address. Afraid they're planning on tying up loose ends, Sergei asks you to go to his safe house in Russia.

Great, you think. This is a totally regular occurrence.

It's a long flight. After hours, you finally arrive, landing on a secluded airstrip surrounded by bush and mountains. Sergei waits for you outside, approaching the aircraft as the door opens.

"Thanks for trusting me," he speaks over the noise of the aircraft.

"Well, you've given me enough reason to," you tell him.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this," he says.

"Don't be," you reply.

He gives you a grateful nod as he gestures with his head. "Follow me."

He leads you away from the runway. The landscape turns forest-like as you walk along a trail. You look around at the surprisingly picturesque view despite the strange circumstances you're in.

"So, what is this place?" you ask.

"I live here most of the time," Sergei explains. "This property used to belong to my mother's family. It's pretty much all I have left of her now."

"Right," you reply. "And do you make a habit of bringing many women out here in the middle of nowhere?"

He shrugs. "Just the ones whose lives are threatened by criminals."

"…Is that a lot?" you ask.

Sergei smirks, leaving your question unanswered as he picks up the pace. "Come on, it's just ahead."

You watch him go ahead of you, letting out a huff at his non-answer as you try to catch up. After a small trek, Sergei leads you to his cabin. It's a pleasant spot, a geometric glass dome surrounded by shrubbery and nature. There's also a scenic body of water nearby. This place would do great on Airbnb, you think to yourself.

You spend your first evening getting settled in. Sergei tells you he's heading to Romania, so you'll have the cabin all to yourself. He makes sure you have everything you need before leaving. He also advises you not to wander far while he's gone, telling you there are leopards, tigers and bears in the area. Well, there goes your Airbnb pitch.

Later that night, you climb to the loft and get into bed. A stranger's bed. A stranger who has saved your life multiple times, but a stranger nonetheless. It's almost dead silent at night, nothing like back home. The rustle of leaves in the wind and the quiet chirping of insects act as your lullaby.

The glass gives you a perfect view of the starry sky as you lie back. With no light pollution, the sight is nothing to scoff at. And after everything that has happened in the last few days, it doesn't take much longer for you to find respite in sleep.

Sergei calls to check in with you from Transylvania on the second day, asking how you're doing and updating you on the situation. He tells you he's on the home stretch, and it'll all be over once the last few people are weeded out. He stays on the call for just a moment longer to tell you a joke about vampires.

Once he hangs up, it doesn't take long for you to become incredibly bored. You do what you can to entertain yourself. You take pictures of the scenery, snack on whatever is available, take naps, and discreetly poke around through Sergei's belongings.

By day three, there was nothing left to snoop. You've looked at everything, from the fridge to the bathroom cabinet. And more absurdly, from the alchemy station to the weapons collection. Sergei doesn't keep many things around, so there wasn't much you could learn from your nosiness.

You wake to a text on the fourth morning. Sergei tells you the job is finished. He's already on his way to the cabin. You let out a breath at the message. It's done. You're safe.

You look around at the space you've called home for the past few days. A strange feeling claws at the back of your mind. A sense of disappointment. At what, you can't yet place. So, to distract yourself, you spend the day tidying. Closer to the evening, you make dinner to the best of your ability with what's available.

Sergei returns and is greeted with the delicious aroma of your food. The smell is foreign to his cabin, foreign to him. You welcome him back, doing a quick once over. He's weary and battered but otherwise seems to be in good shape. And he's incredibly grateful for the food. It's almost amusing watching him eat, like a cat with a bowl of wet food.

After dinner, he's too tired to do anything or talk about what happens next, so you call it a night. You feel bad making him sleep on the couch. You tell him you don't mind him taking the bed. He agrees as long as you stay as well. Neither one of you bother to argue after that.

He passes out quite quickly, sleeping on his stomach with his head facing away from you. You lie on your side next to him, staring at the back of his head. Spending days doing nothing has made it so you're not all that tired. So, you lie in silence, a million thoughts running through your head.

Now that the situation is handled, Sergei will probably send you packing in the morning. That should be a good thing. You can get back to your home, your friends, your job. No criminals after your head, no fearing for your life. So, why is part of you reluctant to go?

You're pulled from your thoughts when Sergei stirs, yawning as he turns onto his back. He settles back down, and you think he's fallen asleep again until he turns his head towards you.

You meet his gaze, and for a moment, you're unsure what to do. You think about pretending you usually sleep with your eyes open to make up for the staring.

But all that proves unnecessary when he smiles and asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you reply. "Just not that tired."

Sergei nods, also turning on his side to face you. "I'm sorry you got caught up in all this."

"No, don't be," you say. "None of it was your fault."

"Still, I know it wasn't ideal, having to deal with something like this. And having to deal with me," he says.

"Dying wouldn't have been ideal," you tell him. "And I've been hiding out here the whole time, doing nothing. If anything, you're like my guardian angel."

He laughs, "That's one way to put it."

You smile back, and the two of you fall into a moment of silence.

"Thanks for looking after the place, by the way," he says.

"What? You mean leeching off of you for four days?" you reply.

He lets out an amused scoff. "I mean for cleaning up and making dinner. Especially the dinner part."

You nod. "It's the least I could do."

"I don't think I've had a proper home-cooked meal in years," he says. "The last time must have been when I still lived with my mother."

You pause for a moment, taking in the information. "No other cooks in the family?"

"No, my father never cooked," he replies. "He would make some poor, overworked chef do it."

You hum in response. "So, you've got low standards? That's a good thing for me then."

Sergei chuckles, appreciating your comment. The two of you stay awake for a while longer. Sergei tells you more about his childhood, his family, the accident that changed him, and his life after he left to be on his own. You also tell him about your past, which paled in comparison to his, but he seemed to appreciate it regardless.

His hand wanders under the sheets as the two of you talk, coming to rest on your waist. His thumb idly strokes your side. He listens to you intently and laughs at any funny parts you share. As his touch grows bolder, he pulls you closer, moving his arm to wrap around you.

You happily accept his embrace. Soon, the warmth of being in his arms and the comforting sound of his voice lull you to sleep. Sergei watches as you drift off. Out like a light. Adorable.

His mind thinks back to the first night you met. He remembers how scared you were, how you looked at him when your life hung in the balance. He felt sorry for you, a poor woman caught up in a mess that wasn't hers.

Sergei doesn't know why you trusted him so quickly, but he's glad you did. He's glad that you're here now with him. He's glad for it all. He realises then how nice it is to have someone to come home to. Someone who cares. Someone he can talk to other than his pilot or his brother.

He wonders what you think. He hopes you feel something similar. You must, right? Though there's a very good chance you think he's a lunatic, and you've just been humouring him. But he tells himself not to overthink, closing his eyes and holding you a little tighter as he waits for sleep.

When you wake in the morning, Sergei is already up, preparing a simple breakfast for the two of you. You eat together, engaging in light conversation. Despite your unspoken reluctance to leave, you know you must return to your life sooner or later.

He helps you pack up after breakfast, and you head to the airstrip. Sergei's pilot picks you both up, and you sleep most of the way back on the aircraft. After a smooth ride, you finally make it back home.

Sergei goes with you all the way back to your place. You open the front door and take a look around. Everything is how you left it, thankfully. Getting back to see your home trashed would have really soured your mood. You step in, place your bag down and let out a sigh. You're ready to continue sleeping, but your stomach rumbling redirects your priority.

Sergei leans against the door frame, watching you. He must have heard the evidence of your hunger because he chuckles. You turn to send him a glare, but he speaks up first.

"If you're up for it, I know a place. Good food, great music," Sergei says.

"Really? I thought you'd be happy to finally get rid of me," you reply.

Sergei snorts, shaking his head. "Quite the opposite, actually. I haven't actually gotten to spend that much time with you."

You're tempted, very tempted. But you pretend not to be. "As long as it's not in the middle of nowhere in a foreign country."

He laughs. "It's not. It's a normal restaurant. I promise."

You let out a sigh, feigning exasperation. "Alright, I trust you."

Sergei grins, pushing himself off the door frame. "Great, let's go."

➸

[sweetdispatch]

Like a bitch - J. Hughes

Purple Chemistry

summary: Jack was keeping distance between you two but still was showing up for sex on which you agreed

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), arguments, swear words

words: 1.4k

note: happy 2025!🥂

---

It was summer time. You knew that Jack is not in New Jersey but back at home in Michigan. You felt better knowing that he’s not around and won’t show up at your place just to have sex with you. You agreed on the deal but deep down, you didn’t want it. You wanted to have him back as a friend and discover your feelings towards him. 

Since the last time you saw Jack, you two haven’t spoken. He made it loud and clear that he needs you only for his release. You understood it because you broke his trust but still, you were bitter that he saw only sex in you, despite the cute moments you two shared. You held your tongue and decided to act like he wants. He held all the cards. 

You were mad that the conversation ended up this way and regretted the need to explain to him why you hadn’t told him about being a Rangers fan. You made the bed and now, you have to lay in it. You really wanted to call Jack and try to talk him through but you knew it was pointless.

Jack was still pissed at you. He couldn’t stand the fact that you lied to his face about everything. He was questioning if anything you two had was real or it was your act. In summer, he tried not to bother his head with the thoughts but it was difficult. He really liked you but for him, it looked like you acted just to impress him. 

That’s why, Jack decided not to speak to you the months he was in Michigan. He tried to collect his thoughts about what your relationship is gonna look like. When he left your apartment, he regretted saying that you two can just stay fuck buddies. He enjoyed having sex with you but he wished you two were more than this. 

At the beginning of September, Jack returned to New Jersey to start preparation for the upcoming season. You knew he was back in town and started feeling anxious. As much as you wanted to see him, you felt that it might hurt you. You tried not to bother your head with this and focus on other things but it wasn’t the easiest task.

It was a quiet Friday night. Your friends went out to a party but you were too tired after work to go with them. Instead you stayed at home and turned on your favorite tv show. You grabbed a bottle of wine from the cabinet and poured yourself a glass. You took a sip and the taste of the alcohol on your tongue felt like a reward. 

In the middle of the episode, you heard a ring bell. You looked at your phone to see that the clock shows 10 PM. You were confused because you didn’t expect anyone to pay you a visit that late. At first, you wanted to ignore it but then you heard the bell again. You groaned and stood up to open the door. To your surprise, it was Jack right in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him and let him enter your apartment. 

“I just wanted to spend time with you” He said and went into your living room. “Looks like you’re having fun” He pointed at the wine standing on your coffee table.

“Yeah and you’re interrupting me” You crossed your arms. 

“I thought you might want to have company” He joked.

“Seriously? You ignored me for the last few months and now you want to spend time with me?” You wanted to laugh hearing his words but decided to stay quiet.

“Okay, you got me. I need a relief and that’s why I showed up here” 

“So you want sex?” He nodded. “You could at least tell me this earlier, I didn’t shave” 

“I don’t care. All I need is your tight pussy around my dick” You blushed hearing those words. “So what do you think?” 

You haven’t responded to his question. Instead you closed the gap between you two and kissed him. Immediately, Jack grabbed your thighs and picked you up. He walked into your bedroom and put you down. You broke the kiss and started undressing yourself. He did the exact same thing. He pushed you on the bed and went to grab a condom from your nightstand, where he left them last time. 

Jack spread your legs and hung them around his waist. Slowly, he entered you and you threw your head from the pleasure. This gave him access to your neck. He started kissing and biting your neck and collarbone. You went with your hands into his hair and pulled them slightly. He was thrusting into you faster with each move. You were moaning at the feeling of him inside of you. 

You missed having sex with him and you were glad he’s taking it easy on you. Jack kissed your lips and bit your bottom lip. You grabbed his shoulder when he started hitting your spot. You felt that you’re not gonna last long. He felt that too when you started clenching around him. His dick started throbbing inside of you and you felt that he reached his high. You were undone but he quickly placed his hand on your clit to help you cum. You moaned loudly and your orgasm went through your body. 

Jack pulled out of you and went to throw away the condom. You were laying on your bed when you saw that he was putting his clothes back on. 

“You’re not staying the night?” You asked him. 

“No, I’ve got what I came for” He answered while zipping his pants.

“So I basically became your sex doll” You said and he looked at you. 

“You agreed on that, remember? If you don’t want to, we can stop and forget about each other” He shrugged but deep down, the thought of you cutting him off his life hurt him. 

“It’s fine” You stood up and went into the bathroom. “You know where the doors are”

Days went by and you started to accept the fact that Jack sees in you only sex. As much as you wanted to repair the damage you’ve done, he didn’t let you. You didn’t know that he’s doing this for his safety and not wanting to be hurt by you again. You two met up a couple more times this month for hookups until the preseason games started and he became busier.

For an irony that the New Jersey Devils played two games against the New York Rangers in preseason. You watched both games from home and you felt terrible seeing your team lost these two matches. You were telling yourself that these are only preseason games and they don’t mean anything but because of the rivalry, it still bugged you. What annoyed you even more was the fact that Jack scored three points in those two games.

Day after the second match, Jack showed up at your apartment. He did this on purpose to laugh at you about the two lost. Whole day you weren’t in a mood and the last thing you needed was to see his face. Nevertheless, you let him into your place. 

“Great two wins. I think I deserve a reward” He joked.

“In your dreams Hughes, I’m mad at you” 

“Oh c’mon. Not my fault Rangers suck” He looked at you.

“You know who really sucks? You. You showing up here and expecting me to be at your beck and call” You fought back. 

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked you irritatedly and you rolled your eyes. 

“Oh, so now you care” You huffed. 

“Yeah, whatever. I’m out. I thought we can have a nice evening but you prefer to act like a bitch” 

“Fine!” You said a little louder than you wanted. He looked surprised at your outburst. 

Jack didn’t say anything, just left you. You sighed. The whole day went from bad to even worse. The last thing you needed was a pointless argument with him, especially when you two started becoming comfortable with each other again. You decided to go and take a shower and went straight into bed. You wanted to forget about this day. 

It took you a couple days to apologise to Jack for your reaction. You wanted to have him by your side, no matter how much he was getting on your nerves. He accepted your apologies but you felt that he’s starting to put distance again. You two weren’t seeing each other. You tried to explain to yourself that he’s been busy with the season that started but you weren’t sure of that. 

---

next chapter

[goaskangel]

dad's bestfriend!nanami x reader

a/n...had really good ideas 4 this and it kinda WORKED OUT??? i fu want more lmk!! im a sucker for older dudes (and ONLy them) nanami will save us all EEK. also i see hiromi as y/n's father, that's what i had in mind writing this!!! THIS HAS SLIGHT CORRUPTION STUFF, LIL GUILT STUFF, LOTS OF KISSIINGGG

you usually paid no mind to the people your father brought over. mostly colleagues or just a few friends to drink and converse with in your shared apartment. one friend he’d seem to bring over a lot had caught your eye. as if his ever-changing ties and snug khakis weren’t enough to make you grin, his mannerism was much too attractive. greeting you respectfully, listening and chuckling to your rare comments and jokes to their discussion over drinks in the kitchen. getting comfortable to just speak to you while your dad’s out or busy with something, always listening with intent. 

it’s so sexy, you think, your hands up to your face as you lay to your side in bed. dreaming conscious thoughts of what his big hands would feel like on you, or the same breath he smokes out against your neck. your guilt no longer dragging you down after all this time. 

once, you sit close to him, smiling and trying to make your staring of his ringless finger unnoticeable. he wonders, aloud, how don’t you have a boyfriend? you shrug, “jus’ not very interested.” you smile when he chuckles, most likely at your thought process. part of you hopes he doesn’t ask what you're looking for because you’d go straight to overworked suited-men. skip over the blonde and big traits just to seem more vague. of course you were interested, you were interested the moment he mentioned he had no family. no wife, no kids. just focused on his work and drinks, a few cigars and baked goods. the absence of your father to run a quick errand wasn’t helping, your eyes zigzagged down his undone tie and exposed blue button-up, his blazer down beside him. you’d thought about taking the garment or increasing the loft’s heater just to see him get all worked up and hot but being this close to him gave you the same thrill. the topic of marriage came up.

“you shouldn’t wait too long, i waited too long.” he says with sincerity. 

“hehe. with all truth, mister, i think you’re doing it on purpose. you are handsome.”

he sits up at the title, a confused smile at his face, “yeah? i could say the same thing about you, pretty.”

god, if you were any worse, the first time he’d use that petname you would’ve pounced on him sooner. “dad says guys my age are after one thing and i agree. you wouldn’t disagree with my dad, would you?” your head tilts and waits for a response to your bratty remark. “well, i suppose your father knows a thing or two.” he nods, crossing his arms. your eyes trail again, watching the toned muscle flex casually against his rolled sleeve. you swallow the pool of spit in your mouth. 

“he’s strict, though. haven’t you noticed?” you get up from your seat and walk to pour yourself another glass of water, “doesn’t ever let me have anybody over.” 

“uh-huh.” his brown eyes stare at you intently to understand your point. 

“it gets lonely, mister.” instead of sitting back down, you stand right in front of him. placing your glass on the glass table. his arms now rest out on the table as he traces delicate circles on the rim of his half empty cup of whiskey. “i obviously can’t tell my dad that so i’m telling you and i just know you’d understand.” your hand rests atop his and slowly curls under his big palm.

he clears his throat of the sudden nervousness, “well, yes. i know that feeling all too well.” you hum a response when he turns his body to face you better. you mumble gently, “my dad won’t be home.” your hand squeezes him tighter. you notice how his brows furrow just the slightest bit as he lowers his head down, letting out a small sigh. but he doesn’t oppose it. doesn’t move when you lead his hand down to your hip, the tips of his fingers riding up your shirt. so pliable, his other resting hand now being guided up, up, up your shirt. his warm palm against your much softer skin. “won’t tell anyone, nanami.” 

his breathing is shaky and his eyes seem to have gotten heavier, but he scoots almost off the seat, to get closer. his vision glued onto the bump of where his hand is underneath your shirt, beneath the wire of your bra. 

“i’ll let you do anything you want to me.” fucking hell, you made this so fucking hard. 

“you’re damn irresistible.” he slurs through his teeth, swearing to himself that his mouth dried when you gripped his hand to squeeze the fat beneath your breasts. you feel dizzy, so good that he’s not resisting, that he can’t resist. he kneads and gropes the side of your hips and thighs, getting closer to your ass. impatiently, he stands and manhandles you closer to his bigger frame. you hear how his breathing’s stabilized but heavier, his expensive cologne finally hitting you when you lean up against his neck. he damn near groans when he gets his hands on you properly. dragging his hands on your back, pushing your body right against his much warmer one. your knees grow weak, if his grasp was any looser, you could’ve collapsed right on him. you take your arms and wrap them firmly against his broad shoulders and thick neck, moaning quietly against the veins under his ear. he feels his khakis getting tighter with every breath you take. a smile grows against your cheeks when you feel the slight stubble at his jaw, you kiss at it. 

still moaning between kitten licks against his mature skin, he turns to press his lips to yours. quick little pecks between breaths, he savors each one and quickly returns for more. the sour taste of his bitter whiskey intoxicating you from his much sweeter mouth.

“been..wanting..this..nana–mi..!” you can’t contain your grown obsession to which he shushes you. nodding slowly against your mouth while he keeps your head in place. when you pull away, you take his hands and lead him into your open bedroom. the idea of your father coming home slowly fading the closer you got what you wanted. you got so eager when he sat you on the edge of your bed, standing between your hanging legs. your hands wanting to hold onto his belt, to slowly unbuckle it but he caught them beforehand, kissing and sucking on your soft wrists and forearms. his lips find their way to your neck and ear where he whispers. 

“it's wrong, i know. so, so wrong, but my god…” he holds onto your neck and carefully grinds himself into your clothed cunt, making you arch your back and buck your hips into him, whining. you could cry from all the teasing he’s doing. “shouldn’t be doing this, sweetheart…dad can’t know, okay?” he keeps his now firm bulge against you. you moan another cry and kiss him again a bunch, nodding, rubbing tongues and messing up the gel in his blonde hair. the very open door reveals the sound of clinking keys and chains, doors opening and closing. too dizzy and much too dazed to even frown, you just stare into his soft brown eyes. they get farther away as he gently lets you go, kissing your temple for good measure before heading to the bathroom, leaving you with shaking legs. hopefully his plans of staying over stays the case.

masterlist

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter Warmers Day 5: Fireworks (...very loosely.) Maxiel. About 900 words.

Max is laying on the floor when Daniel calls him.

"Hello?"

He wasn't expecting Daniel to call him. He had already talked to his mom, his dad and his sister, and everyone else had just texted. But Daniel calls.

"Maxy! Happy new year!"

It sounds like Daniel is outside, maybe at a party. Max is not sure of where he is, if he's still in America, or back home in Australia, or maybe somewhere in Europe, so he isn't sure if it's the new year for him already or not.

"Happy new year Daniel," he says anyway.

There's more fireworks going off, further down the harbor, and Max turns his attention back to Jimmy and Sassy, hiding under the couch.

"Having a fun night?" Daniel asks, the swell of music in the background almost swallowing his words.

Max isn't sure why Daniel is trying to make conversation now or why he called at all.

"I am on the floor," he tells him, partially because it's the truth and partially because he can perfectly picture Daniel's puzzled expression.

"Are you...okay?" Daniel asks, confused and a bit hesitant. It makes Max want to laugh, but also cry, for some stupid reason. He wishes he didn't still know Daniel like this.

"The cats are of course very scared, so I am keeping them company," he explains, reaching a hand under the couch, leaving it there for Sassy to sniff. "It's been midnight, and they're still doing fireworks."

"Oh!" Daniel explains, sounding a bit relieved. Max wonders if he was thinking about sending someone to check on Max already. "So no parties for you?"

"No, no parties."

He doesn't offer any explanation for it. He doesn't owe it to him, to tell him about the invitations he had turned down, about the ring that had been in his dresser, useless now. He's not heartbroken, not really, but he didn't feel like facing the world, freshly broken up, on the night he had been planning to propose.

He doesn't even know if Daniel knows about his breakup yet, if he's seen the posts on Instagram, the ones he didn't even write, just pressed post on.

"Okay, well I hope you're having fun anyway."

Daniel's voice is weird again, and the fireworks going off outside his windows are maybe rattling Max a bit too, which is stupid, because he's seen fireworks a hundred times.

He kind of wants to go to bed.

"Why are you calling, Daniel?" he asks, instead of saying goodbye like a sensible person would have.

Daniel lets out a startled sound, like he wasn't expecting the question, and Max almost wants to shake him, ask him do you think I have forgotten? Do you think I don't know you anymore?

"Uhm, I..."

Max can almost see it, the way Daniel is deciding if he wants to be truthful or to put on his mask again. Can almost feel it, when he chooses in the sigh he lets out.

"Listen, I wanted to ask if you were okay. Martin said you have been hiding away, and that he's worried about you."

Max bristles a little at that. He hasn't been hiding! Sure, maybe he has turned down a few more invites than usual, replying to texts a little slower, but he's allowed to want his peace and quiet, since he's always busy during the season.

By the end, he wasn't even sure either of them loved each other anymore, so he's not even heartbroken. He just. Needs space. He's allowed to want his space.

Apparently though, Daniel still knows him too, because he interrupts before Max can get his angry reply out.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger! I'm just checking on you, Maxy."

Max sighs, feeling himself deflate, and closes his eyes.

"I'm fine. You don't have to worry."

He doesn't know if Daniel is worried about him, he just said Martin was worried, but it's nice to pretend. Max is a little drunk and a little lonely, he's allowed to fool himself for a minute.

"What about a compromise?" Daniel suggests, making Max open his eyes again.

"What kind?"

"I tell Martin you're fine and to not worry about you," Daniel starts, clearly knowing he's gotten Max's attention, the smile audible in his voice, "and you let me personally check on you when I am in Monaco next week."

"Deal."

It's maybe embarrassing to agree this quickly, but the double win of getting Martin off his ass and the opportunity of seeing Daniel soon is just too tempting.

It makes Daniel laugh, sound washing over Max, drowning out the fireworks.

"Great! I'll text you then," he says. It sounds like he's getting closer to the party again, maybe walking back. For a moment, Max wishes he was there instead of here, but Sassy's whiskers against his fingers immediately change his mind.

"Happy new year, Maxy. I'll see you next week!"

If Max was more foolish, he'd think Daniel doesn't want say goodbye. It seems like Max is pretty foolish tonight.

"Happy new year."

There's a moment of silence, in which Max would think Daniel just hung up if it wasn't for the background noise, then Daniel speaks again, rushed and a little nervous.

"It's a date!"

Before Max can even think about a reply, the call disconnects, and he's left on the carpet, with two scared cats, the sound of fireworks, and a thumping heart.

[littlemissgeek8]

I worked so darn hard on this, you have no idea. Between writer's block and a migraine and having the sudden asexual panic of "HOW ON EARTH DO PEOPLE ACTUALLY FLIRT?" it seemed like the universe didn't want me to write at all! But, hopefully I ticked both boxes. ^^;;; Even if the "angst" is more "wallowing in self-pity," hurt/comfort is my JAM. Once again shoving the bulk of the story behind a cut because it's almost 2000 words, oops.

=====================================================

Not for the first time that day, nor even that week, Varric cursed the name of that Maker-forsaken pony. It made sense to travel by horseback--you could carry your equipment better, you could go further in a single day than you could on foot... and, apparently if you were Varric, you could get brushed off your pony and sprain your ankle. Luckily, they'd been almost back to Skyhold, and somehow he'd managed to stay on the pony afterwards long enough to get home.

Still, he never could find a way to get along with the blasted animal, even though he'd been assigned to ride her for months. She sucked in air when she was saddled and nearly dropped him on his head the first time he mounted. She found every. single. branch. to smack him in the head with. She'd even folded her ears back and tried to nip him a few times before he started avoiding her head like the plague.

And she had the audacity of having the same name he'd given Hawke's sister.

Now, he was holed up in his quarters at Skyhold, stretched out on his bed, with a pillow under his foot and several more tucked behind his back. And, though he wouldn't admit it even under pain of torture, he was absolutely sulking.

He should be writing, but his desk was across the room and moving was a lot of work. He wanted to be down in his usual spot in the great hall, curled up in a comfortable chair by the fire. It was the best place for people watching, and of course all the juiciest gossip got whispered about right near him. The table was perfect for writing too, either working on his serials, jotting down notes, or writing the occasional report about their most recent excursion.

The great hall, of course, was a much further walk than his desk, and down more than one flight of stairs too. So instead, he lay in his bed with a scowl, doing absolutely nothing at all.

A knock at the door poked a hole through the gloom of his self-pity. It was timid at first, as if the person knocking was afraid to bother him, then followed by a louder set of rapid-fire knocks. Apparently the person outside had decided to get it over with all at once. Unfortunately, the gloom settled back in stronger than before.

"What do you want?" Varric called from the bed, his voice an irritated growl. A part of him deep down twinged at the harshness of his words. But he shoved it back down, burying it under his frustration at his situation and the layer of pain that swirled up whenever he moved wrong. He wasn't really in the mood for pleasantries or visitors, truth be told.

"Varric? I wanted to check on you, are you all right?" A soft feminine voice came from beyond the door, draped in the flatter tones of a dwarven accent. Inquisitor Cadash, the Herald of Andraste. The woman wrapped in a warning of "look, but don't touch" in his mind.

"No," he answered flatly. Then, after a momentary pause, "The door's not locked." The door opened with a creak, and the Inquisitor's round, curious face poked in. Her brown hair was braided as usual, but this time she had it coiled and pinned at the base of her neck. Not a bad look at all, really, if one was looking at her like that. Varric told himself he definitely wasn't. He was just getting the details right, that's all.

"Sorry to bother you, I thought it must be frightfully lonely up here all alone." She hovered at the doorway, hands hidden under her cloak and probably clasped together out of nerves if he knew her right. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Its your fortress," Varric said bluntly. At least she asked, he thought to himself. Not everyone who had that kind of power would. "Don't worry, I'm decent." He'd managed to struggle himself into a loose pair of breeches earlier, when he thought he might try hobbling off to the main hall. It was after he moved his ankle just wrong in the process that he decided to stay in his room. The breeches he'd kept on out of stubbornness, but he hadn't bothered with a shirt.

The Inquisitor saw his chest hair on a regular basis anyway, this shouldn't shock her, Varric reasoned.

Still, her cheeks took on a reddish cast as she entered, looking at everything in the room but him. Her hands were still tucked under her cloak, and Varric sighed. All the confidence the Inquisitor had developed during Haven seemed to have cracked after they arrived in Skyhold. At least, as far as he'd seen--she'd been so comfortable when they'd spent time together in Haven. Had Corypheus's attack really unnerved her so much?

"So, what's so urgent you came up here to find me? I can't go on any wild adventures right now, sorry. Doctor's orders." Even with his valiant efforts, his usual sarcasm came out harsh. He wasn't really wanting visitors today anyway, even one as easy on the eyes as serah Cadash. It was frankly hard to wallow in self-pity when there was someone around whose feelings he cared about. Somewhat cared about, he told himself, even if it wasn't exactly true.

The Inquisitor laughed softly, her eyes crinkling up as she glanced at him. "No adventures this time, I think you've had enough trouble for a few days." Carefully, she walked across the room to his writing desk, before she finally moved her hands out from under the cloak and placed a covered object on the desk. As Varric sat up a little, he saw her remove the quilted cover to reveal an attractive silver coffeepot. Then, she slid her hands into the bulging pockets of the cloak and took out a pair of silver cups to go with it.

"Coffee?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. The Inquisitor glanced back at him with a smile.

"Well, you're not much for tea, if I remember right, and it's too early for alcohol, and you didn't seem interested in that cocoa stuff Bull had you ship in..." Before Varric could ask why that mattered at all, she produced a cloth bundle and set it on the desk before unwrapping it to reveal a selection of baked goods. It was a little hard to see from the bed, but when she held one up, Varric recognized the crunchy, wedge-shaped almond pastries he'd taken a liking to back in Kirkwall.

"Oh," he said, eloquently.

"I thought I remembered you liked these," the Inquisitor said, untying the strings of her cloak, "but I'm afraid you'll have to get up if you want some."

Flames. He did, in fact, want some of those tasty little pastries, and she knew it too. Someone must have put her up to this, maybe Nightingale or Ruffles. He'd have suspected Chuckles, but he knew the two didn't get along. He pressed his lips together into something vaguely resembling a tight smile, and steeled himself in preparation to get up.

The floor was cold and his feet were bare, and the slightest touch made him recoil at first. But, bribery is a powerful motivator, and soon both feet were over the side of the bed as he prepared to stand. Somewhere in the room, the crutches he'd been given lay where he'd discarded them in a fit of frustration. They were awkward to use and walking around like that hurt his pride even more than his ankle. Instead, he pushed himself into a standing position with a bedside table and what little leverage he could get from the bed itself, before lurching sideways to lean against the wall. The stones of the wall felt even colder on his bare arms than the floor did against his bare feet.

Step by agonizing step, Varric made his way across the room to his desk out of pure stubbornness. He only half registered that the Inquisitor had pulled his chair out before he half fell into it. Lifting himself up with his arms, he settled into the chair and shot a glare at the woman beside him. "That was cruel," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry," Inquisitor Cadash said softly, before shooting him a sideways glance. "Would it have been better if I let you wallow in bed all day?" There was a teasing quality to her voice that gave Varric pause. She'd teased and cracked jokes before, yes, but this felt different. Once again the "Look but don't touch" warning rang out in his head, and he busied himself by pouring some coffee.

The kitchen staff must have added sugar and a bit of cream to the pot itself before sending it up, because it tasted just the way he liked it when he took a sip. Odd, he hadn't known they kept track of his tastes. The almond pastry was just right as well, the dryness offset by dunking it in the coffee. A smile crept over his face despite his dark mood, before he noticed the Inquisitor watching him nearby with an expectant expression.

Varric cocked his head to the side a bit with a questioning expression, and Inquisitor Cadash took a step back. "Was it right? It looks like it was right..."

"Were you behind this?" He asked, an amused chuckle sneaking out of his throat.

The Inquisitor shoved her hands into her pockets and took another step back, bumping into the end of the bed and sitting down with a thump. "I... knew you were feeling down and I didn't do it without help. But the cooks downstairs let me do some stirring and I added the almonds... and I hope I remembered how you like your coffee."

The unbidden chuckle had given way to a genuine smile, one that softened his eyes as he leaned against the desk with his cheek cradled in one hand. It was always a slightly terrifying ordeal, to be seen. Varric had long relied on stories and fabrications and outright lies to keep himself guarded, but at this moment being seen wasn't scary at all. "Do you treat all your friends like this, your Inquisitorialness?" he asked, quietly pushing down a wish that the answer was no.

The Inquisitor elected not to answer, chewing on her lip and refusing to meet his eyes again.

Varric took one of the almond pastries and held it out to her. "Why don't you try one? They came out pretty good." Her grey-blue eyes met his for a moment as she took the pastry from his hand, then she stood up and put her hand on the coffee pot.

"Uh, do you mind?" she asked, indicating the pot.

Varric shook his head in reply. "I thought you didn't like coffee," he said, watching her pour a small amount into the other cup. "Something about it being 'too bitter,' wasn't it?"

The Inquisitor focused on dunking her pastry in the coffee, before glancing back up at him through her eyelashes. "It's sweeter with company," she said softly with a smile.

Varric couldn't argue with that.

Writing Challenge

Alright now that I was both sincere and pedantic(warned y’all I’m almost always both) here’s your writing challenge for the day. Don’t forget there’s no time limit to these, if you find it in a month I’ll still reblog it. I’ll take pretty much any BW fic not just DA. Reblog, tag, or link me!! My ask box is always open as are my DM’s! Without further ado:

I want flirty dialogue without physical touch OR flirty touch without dialogue.

OR OR

If romance like that isn’t your thing I want angst. Give me the longing. Give me the hurt/comfort. I yearn for yearning. Emotional distress???? I love that shit. I’m leaving this one wide open. Bonus points if you manage both categories. Look for mine later.

[formula1fanfiction]

Max Verstappen / Charles Leclerc

Title: Seemed like the right thing, at the right time

Pairing: Max Verstappen / Charles Leclerc

Characters: Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell, Alex Albon, Lewis Hamilton

Prompt: Can you write omega max + any other omega but neither of them want to top

Ao3 link

It’s been a long ass fucking season, all he wants to do is go back to his hotel room and snuggle up in his nest with Max, but instead he’s at some shitty end of season party. That he only agreed to go to because of Max, and to top things off he's really not in a good mood. 

“Why just because he’s an omega does he need to act like that” Charles lifts his head and sees max wildly gesturing at George, Charles can only raise an eyebrow because the smell radiating from George alone indicates what’s going on. 

“Stop it man, he’s obviously going into heat.” Lewis snaps back at Max and walks off. “I mean it’s pretty obvious” Charles adds “I can smell it from here, he’s pouring with sweat and he’s resting his head on the inside of Alex’s neck.” Alex is practically holding him up at this point, his hand soothingly rubbing circles on George's shoulder.  

“Come on let’s get you home” Alex gently guides George away from the mess of bodies. It’s clear the Brit doesn’t have the mental capacity to say his goodbyes, so Alex does it for him, which seems to further infuriate max. "I hope everything goes well G." Charles kisses his cheek on the way past, Max only glares at the pair of them.

“All my work gone downhill because of him, omega’s are not submissive whores” It’s Charles turn to feel infuriated, because George is in heat, his instincts make him feel like that, but Max in the bedroom is a bottom and it’s kind of a problem, neither of them want to top. “He’s in heat max and you’re only acting like this because you’re pissed with him” max narrows his eyes and doesn’t say a word until they get back to the hotel room. 

“So I guess you’re going to top tonight then Mr Macho omega” Max, rips the red bull shirt of his head and it lights the fire in Charles belly, maybe he’ll get what he wants after all. “What gave you that idea?” 

“Oh I don’t know, omega’s are not submissive whores might have something to do with it.” Max kicks off his jeans, so he’s just standing in his boxers. “George would have got down on all fours and agreed to be fucked in public if Alex had asked but I don’t see what that has to do with me getting fucked?” Max’ fingers grip at the waistband of his boxer shorts, Charles can see the outline of his cock and he can smell the slick Max’s body is producing. “The submissive whore part”

“I want you to fuck me Charles, that doesn’t mean I’m going to wither around and bare my neck.” Charles' can't keep his eyes off the waiting bulge in Max's underwear, he wants it inside of him so badly. “Well I’m not going to fuck you Max, I want you to fuck me”

"I'm not going to fuck you Charles, I always fuck you." Max finally shuffles down his boxer shorts, his hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, the whole room smells like Max's arousal. "Get undressed Charles." He quickly does as he's told, he kicks off his jeans and boxers together, his shirt quickly following. Charles arousal mixes with Max's and the whole room smells like horny omega's.

"If you wanted to get fucked all the time, why didn't you date an alpha instead." Charles is aware how petulant he sounds, he doesn't care. "I hate alpha's, I hate the thought of being reliant on someone else, absolutely not. Now lay down on the bed." Charles wants to argue, but it sounds like he might be getting what he wants, so he does as he's told before Max can change his mind.    

It turns out Charles doesn't get what he wants, Max follows him onto the bed, he doesn't sit between Charles' legs, he sits on top of them, he can feel the wetness from Max's hole pooling on his upper thighs. "What are you doing, Max?" Max position's himself into a squatting position and presses three fingers inside his own hole. "ok, i'm ready."

"Max? What are you doing?" Max raises his eyebrow and takes Charles' cock into his hand, jerking him off a few times before nudging it against his slick entrance and slowly sinks down, until Charles bottoms out inside of him. "You're just as bad as George, i'm proving to you omega's don't have to be submissive whores." Charles whines, squeezing down on Max's hips. "Yes but, I need something inside of me when I cum, it hurts otherwise."

"I'll fuck your ass, but you need to make me cum first." Charles nods, ok he can live with that, he just lays back, watching Max, who isn't doing anything but just sitting there, smirking. "You know, it's such a shame Charles." Max clenches and unclenches around him. "You're so big, maybe you should have been an alpha instead." Charles hisses, Max throws his head back and laughs.

"Poor little omega, so desperate to get fucked aren't you? Too bad." Max digs his finger nails into Charles' shoulders and pulls up his hips, about half of Charles' cock sits inside of him, as he sinks back down again hard and rough. Charles can't help the moan falling from his hips, he might prefer to get fucked, but there's no denying how good it feels to have Max's tight, warm heat wrapped around him. Max repeats the move, pulling the same moan from Charles' lips.

"See, it feels good doesn't it?" Max rocks himself backwards and forwards. "Just because you're an omega doesn't mean you don't get to have me like this." Max half pants and half moans, his eyes almost black with arousal. "Be like me Charles, i'm an omega, I just take what I need, I don't need an alpha." Max pulls himself up once again, only to slam back down again.

"It feels good, I admit, but i'd rather get fucked, I like being an omega." Charles withers around under the heaviness of max's body, wishing Max would just flip them over and fuck him hard into the mattress, just like Alex will be doing to George right now. "Please Max, fuck me, please."

"No, stop being selfish all the time. I hate topping too, but I always do it to keep you happy." Charles whines, in the saddest way he can mange, but instead Max only pays attention to himself, wrapping his hand around his leaking cock and starts to stroke himself. Max doesn't bounce anymore, instead he leans forward, pressing his face into the crook of Charles' neck and rocks himself against Charles' cock, moaning in pure pleasure. "Charles' please." Max has never sounded that needy before, Charles quickly gets the hint and furiously fucks up into him, hitting his prostate with every thrust. Max stays quiet, the only way Charles' knows, he's hit his orgasm is by the heavy breathing and the sticky cum splattered up his chest.

"Ok, it's my turn now." Charles pushes' Max's hips, bucking up into him a little. Max sits up, looking utterly fucked out. "Don't worry my sweet little omega, I haven't forgotten about your orgasm." The smirk on Max's face should give it away, but Max doesn't pull off him, instead he starts bouncing up and down on Charles' cock once again, a little bit harder this time. "M- Max." It feels so fucking good, but Charles can't come this way, it hurts. "I need you-"

"I know what you need baby." Max cuts him off. "You look so good like this Charles, desperate and begging for me to put my cock in you, I might start calling you George Russell." Charles whines stalling Max, with strong hands on his hips. "Stop talking about George and just fuck me already."

"Then fuck me like you mean it Charles, come on fuck me, like I deserve." Oh. He gets it now. Charles uses the leverage on Max's hips and fucks up into him with all his might, battering his prostate with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin echo's around the room, mixed with Max's loud moans, happy he's finally getting what he wants.  "I'm so close Charles, please." Max moans, throwing his head back, grinding down his hips to meet everyone of Charles' thrusts. He knows how close Max is now, he knows exactly what he needs.  

"Come for me omega, come on." Charles growls thrusting up extra hard, smashing Max's sweet spot and that's all it takes for him to lose it. He screams out Charles' name as he cums, spurting his load all over Charles' chest and face.

"Why didn't you just tell me what you wanted?" Charles pants as Max climbs off him and settles down between his legs, hard cock pressing against Charles' aching entrance. "I told you, I'm not some submissive whore, I just take what I need." Max's cock must be aching and sore now, but that doesn't stop him from roughly slamming inside of Charles with one swift thrust, who moans in relief, finally getting something inside of him.

"Fuck me Max, I need it." Max starts to thrust very slowly inside of Charles, only pulling back the smallest amount before sliding back into him again. Charles is going insane from the small amount Max is giving to him, he's been waiting forever and a day for this. "Please." Charles whines, Max chuckles. "Honestly, such a submissive little omega, there is no changing you." Max slowly gives Charles what he needs, pulling out a little bit more with each move, and thrusting back into him that little bit harder, until soon Max hits all the right spots and turns Charles into a moaning mess.

"I do love you Charles, so much." Max thrusts his fingers into Charles' hair and pulls him into a rough kiss, Charles can only moan into Max's mouth because that's the moment Max finally starts to pick up the pace, and gives Charles what he really wants.  "What do you want Charles? Tell me."

"Fuck me hard Max, come on." Max smirks. "Good boy." Charles moans in delight as Max slams into him with an almost brutal force, the headboard slams into the wall, poor Carlos next door must be wondering what on earth is going on, it can be his leaving gift from Charles.

"Do you need me to touch your cock baby? It's so red and hard." Charles nods. "Please, touch me." Max wastes no time and wraps his fist around Charles' aching cock and strokes it to the same pace as his thrusts, and changes the angle ever so slightly until Charles is seeing stars and throwing his head back into the pillows.

"So needy for me." Max continues to pleasure Charles cock while slamming into his prostate with every thrust. Charles is losing it pretty quickly, Max had kept him on edge for so long, he needs to cum so badly, it hurts. "Fuck, fuck fuck, Max." Charles all but screams and uses his finger nail's to scratch at Max's back, leaving ugly red scratches as he reaches his orgasm, spurting his load over his own chest and Max's hand.

Charles whines as Max slips out of him, he's so sensitive all he wants to do is cuddle up to his fellow omega, but instead he's left alone. "Calm down, i've only been gone five seconds." Max gently wipes a warm towel over Charles' skin, cleaning up all the remains of cum from his face and chest.

"Can we just cuddle now?" Max shrugs wiping away the slick from around Charles' hole and settles down under the covers next to him. Charles rests his head on Max's chest, while the Dutchmen absent mindedly runs his fingers through Charles' hair.

"We really need to do something about this bottoming situation." Max sighs, while tapping on his phone. "What do you mean? Like getting an alpha in or something? I don't like the thought of sharing you." Max chuckles. "I told you no, I hate alpha's." Charles has never been more confused in his life. "Then what?"

Max holds up his phone, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. "I just ordered us this knotting double ended dildo. We can both get fucked, our heats will be less painful and best of all we don't need an alpha around."

Charles doesn't know what to say in responded to that, but he already can't wait to have sex again.   

[kinardsevan]

Prompt: tommy's first time with a guy. It was not a good experience, so his happiness about being brave and coming out deflates quickly

you knew I was gonna make this bucktommy 😂😂

content warnings for SA. under the cut.

i had a backbone made of glass (and then it broke)

it never really comes up in the first six months. Evan is so in the throes of taking on everything he’s never had before in a prior relationship that he never pushes for it, and Tommy is okay with that. The way they skate around trauma, just glancing at it in it’s perfectly placed box inside each of them, never really opening it up to feel it with one another, it feels easy enough to not discuss. 

But then. 

Three months post-breakup, there’s the helicopter crash that almost kills both of them. He feels like has to beg Evan to live, to lay all of his feelings out on the line and own every bit of the love he tried to deny himself of, tried to not feel in those intervening months. 

Except. 

It didn’t work. He didn’t forget. He didn’t move on. He didn’t let go. And the fact that Evan put himself in a position to be in Tommy’s helicopter with him, to fight for the embers desperately trying to spark back into an inferno between them made it clear that he didn’t either. And so in the middle of nowhere California, positive they were both going to die, the truth came out. All the fears, and all of the locked-up trauma that birthed them. Everything started to boil to the surface.

And it was enough. Those confessions led to other confessions that led to kissing and making up, and plans for a life that—while terrifying and still unclear—was also something they both knew they wanted. 

Except. 

. . . 

It’s a year to the day of their first meeting when it comes up. Tommy’s in pretty good spirits, excited that they’re off and spending this day together. Although he’s disappointed that they won’t ever get to call the day a few weeks from now their official anniversary, he also takes it in stride. Those few months spent apart—and unfortunately, the helicopter crash that followed—forced them both into the realizations they might’ve never had if they hadn’t had the time apart. As much as that realization sucks, it’s still important. 

They load the day with activities. Evan has just recently moved in after the lease on the loft came up, and they’re planning a trip to Texas in a few weeks to visit Eddie and Chris. They spent the afternoon in the park with Jee-Yun due to Maddie’s due date looming closer and closer, and then they’d shared dinner with her and Howie before finally making it back home. 

Evan is coming out of the shower, still scrubbing the top of his head with the towel in nothing more than a pair of black briefs that are doing nothing to hide the curves and hard lines of his body—and also flooding Tommy’s mouth with saliva—when he looks up at the other man. 

Evan grins at him, clearly taking note of Tommy’s expression. 

“See something you like,” he teases. 

“Obviously,” the other man counters. 

Evan tosses his towel into the bathroom and crosses the room, crawling across the bed and over Tommy, pressing him down onto the mattress. A low growl escapes his mouth as his hands slide down over the curves of Evan’s ass, pulling him tighter, closer. The kiss is a fight for dominance, hands roaming over hips and ribs, backs and chests as they try to get impossibly closer to one another. 

“Fuck, I want to be inside you,” Evan rasps against Tommy’s mouth. 

And Tommy….

Tommy freezes. 

Evan leans up after a moment, surprised at the reaction as he looks down at his boyfriend. 

“I’m sorry, did I just step into unchartered territory,” he asks, leaning back so he’s sitting up on his knees, still straddled over one of Tommy’s thighs. 

Tommy swallows and stares at him for a moment, his brow pinched slightly as he tries to find the words to continue. Evan starts to move off of him when he finally shifts, reaching a hand up and grabbing his hip. 

“Are you okay?” Evan asks nervously. 

Tommy nods. “Just a little caught off guard,” he admits. 

“I mean, I know in the past we kind-of did things one way, and I’ve never complained because I always had a good time, and we can still-..” 

“It’s okay,” Tommy says, cutting him off. His expression is somber, but he nods after a moment. “You don’t have to justify it.” 

“It just seems like-..” 

“Evan.” 

They stare at each other for a time, neither of them moving. Any urge Evan has to move is prevented by Tommy’s hand still gripped on his hip, keeping him in place, which is also keeping Tommy from moving. After more than a few minutes, Tommy’s gaze finally shifts away, and Evan lifts his leg from where he’s still straddling Tommy’s thigh, moving into the space next to him. 

“Something happened.” 

It’s a statement, not a question, and it takes several breaths for Tommy to look back up at him and nod. 

“Yeah.” 

“And we never got into the dark parts of things before,” Evan adds. 

“Also true,” Tommy replies. 

Evan takes a breath, resting his hand over where Tommy’s is sitting on top of his thigh. 

“I mean, there’s trauma, and then there’s dark trauma,” he states. “If you’re not ready to talk about it-..” 

“That’s not it, babe,” Tommy states, glancing back up at him. 

Evan nods. “Okay.” He strokes his thumb over the back of Tommy’s hand and waits. It takes him a minute, his gaze also locked on where their hands are resting together. 

“He was my first after I came out,” he explains. His voice is soft, like saying it too loudly will draw too much attention to him. “I felt so settled back then like things were finally in a good place because I wasn’t afraid of owning who I was anymore. And Jasper….he seemed like a good guy at the time.” 

“So he was more than just a guy in a bar,” Evan surmises. Tommy gives a wistful smile that quickly fades into a grimace. He glances up at Evan. 

“He was everything I didn’t expect him to be, initially in good ways, and then inevitably in the worst ways,” Tommy answers. “And he…” His voice trails off as he shakes his head, and something in the defeat in his expression reminds Evan of the night they broke up and just how alone Tommy looked. “I don’t know. He stomped out those naiveties really quickly for me. Sent me reeling, and I couldn’t figure out how I’d landed there in the first place.” 

He doesn’t have the words to describe the issue when it happens. One minute, things feel fine—good, even—and the next, something is coiling in the pit of his gut that Jasper is not the guy that he should be doing this with. 

“Hey, I don’t know that-..” He’s trying to push up off the mattress, even though there’s a hand in the middle of his spine.

“Calm down and you’ll be fine,” he cuts Tommy off, pushing him back down between the shoulders. “Just relax.” 

He forces a breath as his expression hardens slightly. He doesn’t like the prospect of being told to just calm down and take it, especially when he's in this position, being this vulnerable. He tries to push up again, but the hand on his back is rougher this time, shoving him back down again. His jaw tightens, and he turns his head along with his upper body, looking directly at Jasper. 

“Okay, now I seriously-...” 

It happens so fast that he’s not sure how to process it. One minute he’s halfway through a sentence, and the next, his face is pressed against the mattress, stinging across the side of his cheek and mouth. He’s so surprised by the strike that he doesn’t even know how to react. 

“I told you to calm down,” Jasper growls at him as he shakes his fingers out. In the next second, Tommy feels his legs being shoved apart with a roughness that hasn’t been used to this point, and all of a sudden, panic is surging inside of him, racing straight past the tiny coils of anxiety that had first had him even mentioning anything. 

“Just take a damn breath and everything will be fine,” Jasper tells him. Tommy gulps, his breath quickening. He fists the sheet on the mattress beneath him and shoves up as hard as he can, and then he’s flat against the bed again, coughing this time as blood runs over his tongue and down the outside of his mouth. There’s a hand in his hair then, fisting tightly and yanking, only to shove his head harder against the mattress. Jasper slams so hard into him that he flinches, sending a fresh wave of pain up the side of his face. 

In the minutes afterward, he’ll barely be able to process what’s happening. He’ll only remember the god-awful yellow paint on the walls. The way fingers curled inside his mouth and tugged at the same spot where blood was running down his lip. The elbow pressed across his shoulders, pinning him to the bed while the other hand gripped his shoulder for a deeper angle. The way every thrust in hurt just a little less, but never really completely went away. 

The way Jasper pinned him down and came twice, but Tommy didn’t orgasm at all. 

It’ll be years before he realizes the anxiety was brought on by a blood stain three inches from his face. 

“I wanted it to be this good thing,” he admits, swallowing down past the lump in his throat. “I was out, and I was excited, and it was supposed to be this thing I was proud of for not hiding anymore, and feeling brave and excited. I was finally…” 

“You were getting to be who you felt like you were supposed to be,” Evan finishes for him. 

Tommy nods, glancing over at him, his expression raw. 

“But Jasper…” He pauses, lets out a huff. “I didn’t even know how to move after he did what he did. I mean, I don’t even know how to contextualize it beyond just…being terrified to move. H-he…” He shakes his head again, one of his eyebrows twitching up at the memory. “There was no stopping him, and that made me feel incredibly weak and stupid.” 

“But you’re none of those things,” Evan reminds him. “And we don’t ever have to-..” 

“I don’t want to take that option off the table right now,” Tommy states quickly. He takes a breath and squeezes Evan’s fingers. “But I’m also not ready, right now.” 

Evan nods, lifting his hand to Tommy’s cheek and brushing his thumb against it. “That’s fine. We can wait.” 

Tommy nods back at him, rolls his lip between his teeth briefly. After a breath, he looks back up at Evan, guilt in his expression. 

“I owe you an apology,” he murmurs. 

Evan furrows his brow at him, shaking his head. “No. No, you don’t.” 

“I do,” Tommy counters, his gaze drifting down, leaning away from Evan’s touch in a move that the younger man is all too familiar with after these months back together. It’s something he does when he feels undeserving. Evan isn’t sure if he’s figured out the tell himself, but he lifts his other hand to his boyfriend’s face, keeping him from moving away. 

“I manipulated you,” Tommy rasps. “I-in the past, and even after we got back together. Kept you from initiating.” 

Evan stares at him for a moment, his gaze trailing back and forth between Tommy’s eyes and the guilt still shining in them. He can recall the moments Tommy is referring to. Nights when he was between Tommy’s legs and the other man would flip them over, distract him with his mouth, or fingers, or move down the bed and give a spectacular blow job that had every thought Evan had ever had melting out of his ears. 

“Baby.” He brushes his thumbs in circles against Tommy’s temples as he gazes at him. Evan shakes his head. “That’s not manipulation. That’s protecting yourself.” 

Tommy wrinkles his nose at the suggestion, his gaze falling between them. Evan pulls him forward into his chest and Tommy allows it, curling into him as Evan’s arms loop around his shoulders, keeping him close. 

“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation one way or the other for what you’ve done to protect yourself when it wasn’t hurting me,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers through Tommy’s curls. “I wasn’t offended. If anything, I’m pretty sure I was having a damn good time.” 

Tommy lets out a small puff of air, and Evan feels the way his mouth pulls just slightly at the hint of a smile. He doesn’t move away, but he can feel the way Tommy kisses his chest before settling once more. 

They’re both quiet for a little while, Tommy’s fingers moving in small circles over Evan’s hip while Evan continues moving his fingers through Tommy’s hair. After a while, he lets out a deep breath, and Tommy tilts his head up, curious. 

“Hmm?” 

“I wasn’t always that way,” Evan quotes softly, his chin tilted up slightly. He glances back down at Tommy, stroking his fingers up and down against the other man’s bicep. “Just…hurts my heart a little. Well, a lot.” 

Tommy nods, not countering the statement in any way. 

“It still makes me admire you,” Evan adds, his other hand still stroking the back of Tommy’s head. “Your strength. The fact that you didn’t let it stop you from becoming who you have.” 

“I mean, I won’t lie and say it was easy,” Tommy murmurs back. He shifts back up on the bed, not moving away but leaning against the headboard so that they’re face-to-face again. He gnaws on the inside of his lip again for a moment before reaching for Evan’s hand and lifting it to his lip, brushing it over the barely-there scar on the edge of it. Evan tilts his head straighter as he realizes, frowns. 

“You told me this was after a rough shift,” he murmurs, his voice trembling. 

“That’s not a lie,” Tommy counters, his own voice wavering. “I just didn’t…contextualize.” 

“Tommy.” His voice lilts as he strokes his thumb against the scar, gutted at the idea that the other man has not only dealt with something so violent in silence for so many years, but lived with physical evidence on it on his face the entire time.

“It’s fine,” Tommy tells him. “I got along fine.” 

Evan shakes his head at him, his eyes narrowing in a mix of anger and mourning. 

“You shouldn’t have had to,” he replies. He keeps his mouth shut about the things about Tommy’s life that have angered him. It’s a conversation they’ve had a world over in recent weeks; the ways in which people failed both of them and left them both holding the bag. But in that moment, the feelings are heavy in Evan’s chest; he at least had Maddie for the most part. Tommy had no one. It makes him hate every moment, not just before they met, but every moment they were apart even more than he had, with every discussion they’ve had in the past three months, every time Tommy has let something new slip about his traumas that he inevitably faced alone. He hated even more that it made him realize that all the times he’d felt alone—after the ladder truck bombing, during the lawsuit, after the lightning strike—he’d still had someone. Tommy never did. 

“Okay.” 

Evan stares at him for a beat longer, not loving Tommy’s response. It’s a non-argument, but he knows that it’s not an acceptance of the answer, because they’re still working on that part of it all. It’s one thing for Tommy hear him say that something isn’t his fault or job, and it’s another thing entirely for him to believe it. 

His gaze trails over Tommy’s face as he strokes his thumb over the scar once more. 

“I love you,” he whispers. “So much.” 

“I know,” Tommy answers, and the corner of Evan’s mouth pulls up slightly. That’s the acceptance he’s seeking, and while it’s not perfect, he’s determined to get the other man there. After a moment, he leans forward and kisses him, soft and reverent. Tommy kisses him back, pushing Evan back into the headboard after a minute, letting his fingers trail up the younger man’s ribs. The kiss continues for several minutes until Evan finally breaks away, breathless. He raises an eyebrow at Tommy, his swollen lips splitting into a cheeky smile as he glances down between them and then back up at him. 

“Still?” He asks. 

Tommy waggles his eyebrows once, leaning in to peck his lips quickly before trailing a line down Evan’s jaw. 

“Oh honey. There are ways you can still be inside of me,” he teases before biting down on the hinge of Evan’s jaw. 

Evan just moans in response. 

[kissorkill16]

Babysitting: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Mr. Peterson is babysitting Nicky.

(P.S., asks sent from @meteoroestelar25 and @ghostly-writers !)

Nicky was laying on his bed, not feeling so energetic like normal. Then he heard his mother call out to him.

"Nicky, can you come here? There's something we need to talk to you about."

He slowly got up and stumbled towards his door, opening it and trying not to fall over as he made his way to the living room.

He was absolutely not ready for who he saw sitting with his parents in the living room.

Mr. Peterson, his neighbor from across the street.

"Why is he here?", he asked, pointing to the man.

"Well, he offered to watch over you while we go on another work trip.", said his father.

Nicky so badly hoped his parents were joking. They would never leave him alone with this weirdo,...right?

"Honey, it's only for a few hours.", said his mother.

"That's not the problem, Mom.", said Nicky. "You guys always leave me alone whenever you go out for work, and I do just fine by myself. What's changed?"

"That maybe we should get someone to check up on you every now and then so you're not completely alone."

Nicky rolled his eyes, but didn't argue any further. His parents often left him home alone whenever they left for work, and it helped him gain a lot of independence. Sure, it didn't mean he didn't get lonely when his parents left him alone, and he knew they could always ask one of the neighbors to check up on him every now and then...

He just didn't want it to be this neighbor.

But his parents had already made up his mind.

The next day, he woke up really early to say goodbye to his parents, to give them hugs and kisses before they left.

He just hoped that maybe Mr. Peterson would cancel or something, or maybe his parents wouldn't have to leave after all.

But luck wasn't on his side today.

Mr. Peterson was already on the front porch before they were out the door.

Soon, they waved Nicky goodbye one last time before they drove off, leaving Nicky alone with his neighbor.

Mr. Peterson guided Nicky back inside the house and closed the door behind him.

"I'm just going to stay in my room until you're gone.", said Nicky. He turned on his heel and went upstairs.

"You can sulk all you want, Nicky. But I'm here whether you like it or not."

That just made Nicky walk faster to his room. As soon as he made it, he slammed the door and flopped down on his bed.

"This. Is. Bullshit."

Nicky decided to just stay in his room until his parents came home. At least that way, he didn't have to worry about Mr. Peterson telling his parents about any trouble he caused while he was under the man's care.

Once in a while, he had to leave his room to go to the bathroom. Once, when he did, he peeked down the stairs and saw Mr. Peterson sitting on the couch and watching TV.

Eventually, he thought maybe that was enough time spent in his room. He went downstairs and walked towards the front door.

"I'm going out.", he said. In an instant, Mr. Peterson put a hand on Nicky's shoulder, preventing him from leaving.

"Where to?", asked Mr. Peterson.

"None of your business."

Mr. Peterson crossed his arms and looked down at Nicky with eyes that could burn a hole through his skull.

"I'm just going on a walk.", said Nicky.

"Oh, how lovely."

He went back to the living room, and Nicky thought he may be going back to watch TV, but then he was being pulled back to the living room, and something was being forced on his back.

Nicky felt nothing but embarrassment as a freaking child leash was attached to him, but Mr. Peterson didn't seem to care.

"When I said I wanted to go on a walk, I meant by myself.", he said. "And even if I did want you to come with me, this shouldn't be allowed!"

"This is only so you don't wander off.", said Mr. Peterson. "Your parents tell me you have a tendency to wander."

"In my sleep, asshole!"

Mr. Peterson gave Nicky a hard tap on his head. "Language, young man."

Nicky so badly wanted to just turn around and punch this man, but that wouldn't do him any good.

When they got home, Nicky went back to his room, and didn't come out for the rest of the afternoon.

After a while, he heard a knock on the door. He knew who it was, but he didn't want to answer. Another knock on the door, and Nicky still didn't answer.

Then the door opened.

"Nicky, get up. It's time for dinner.", said Mr. Peterson.

"I'm not hungry.", Nicky said. "And I especially don't want to eat in the same room as you."

"Nicholas, you're being dramatic -"

Nicky threw his pillow at the man, "Go away!"

He threw himself back on his bed, and then he felt hands wrap around his ankles. Nicky grabbed onto his bed post, trying to keep a firm hold as Mr. Peterson tried to pull him off of his bed.

"Let go of me!"

"Let go of your bed!"

"No! Let go of me you asshole!"

About a half hour later, Nicky sat at the dinner table, both of his ankles taped to the legs of his chair. Mr. Peterson sat across from him, watching him as he ate the food he made for him.

"Do you like it?", he asked.

"Leave me alone.", said Nicky.

"Well excuse me for just asking you a question."

Now Nicky felt kind of bad. This whole time, Mr. Peterson respected his decisions, apart from the child leash, he was actually a pretty good babysitter.

"It's alright.", he said, "The food is alright."

"Thank you, Nicky."

After dinner, Nicky went back to his room. But he didn't go to his bed, he just sat at his desk and tried to put together a dismantled CB radio.

He didn't know how much time has passed, but he saw the sun get lower and lower as he looked out of his window. Then Mr. Peterson knocked on his door again, and then he came in.

"What do you want?", asked Nicky, not turning around to look at him.

"Bedtime."

Now Nicky did turn around to look at him. "What did you say?", he asked.

"It's bedtime.", Mr. Peterson said again, "I'll leave the room while you change into your pajamas, but in a few minutes, I want you to brush your teeth."

Nicky put down his tools, "Are you serious right now?", he rhetorically asked. "I'm not going to bed yet. I want to finish this."

Mr. Peterson went to the boy and tugged on his shoulder, "Nicholas, it's time for bed."

"I said no!"

The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are we seriously about to do this again?", he asked, sounding tired and frustrated. "It's bedtime. So get changed and brush your teeth."

Nicky just ignored him.

"Brat."

He heard footsteps leave his room and the door closed behind him.

When Mr. Peterson left the room, Nicky couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Mr. Peterson didn't even fight with him on this, he just gave up and left.

He didn't know why, but he felt like maybe he was being too difficult with Mr. Peterson.

So he put his tools away and got changed into his pajamas, then he went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He went back to his room and laid down on his bed, then he saw Mr. Peterson come in again.

"Ha. What made you change your mind?", he asked.

Nicky shrugged. "I guess I was being a little too hard on you.", he said. "I'm sorry."

Mr. Peterson smiled and went over to Nicky, patting his head. "It's alright, Nicky.", he said.

"And...uh..."

"Hm?"

"...Can you stay here with me until I fall asleep?"

It was a weird request, and Nicky immediately wished he could take it back. But the strangest thing was that Mr. Peterson actually agreed. He sat down beside him, and Nicky felt his eyes close after a while.

Mr. Peterson smiled as Nicky peacefully slept. Before he left that night, he leaned down and gave him a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Goodnight, dear. Sweet dreams."

[thnksfrthmmrs]

[kalashtars]

the worst feeling in the world is thinking you understand something and then taking a quiz on it and realizing that actually, you understood nothing at all

[girlivealwaysbean]

man

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

I promised you some lions! Let's talk about manes, males, and management.

This is Tandie, the current male lion at the Woodland Park Zoo.

Notice anything odd about him? He's got one of those hilarious awkward teenager manes. Except... this cat is nine years old.

I was, of course, immediately curious.

Manes serve a lot of purposes for male lions, including being an indicator of health and fitness - it's actually a sexually selected trait and a social signal. Mane texture / hair quality / length is dependent on nutrition and the body having energy to grow (and carry around!) that much hair! The color is also a signal: males with darker manes have been found to have higher testosterone levels.

In one research report, wild males were much more likely to avoid a lion decoy when it had a longer or darker mane - but the girls really loved a dark mane. It's thought this is because a long, dark mane is an indicator of mate quality. Males with longer, darker manes have higher testosterone and were pretty healthy: meaning they had more energy for fighting, had a better chance of recovering if they got injured, and generally had a higher rate of offspring survival. Manes matter!

So, back to Tandie. He was actually born at the Woodland Park Zoo in 2014 alongside two brothers, to dad Xerxes and mother Adia.

This was Xerxes (rip).

Obviously, a very large, dark, lush mane on Xerxes here. So where did these blond muttonchops come from on his son?

I asked the zoo docents and got an answer that didn't make a lot of sense. They told me that after the three cubs grew into adolescents, they were moved to the Oakland Zoo together. But living together suppressed his testosterone, and he never grew a mane.

Hmmmm.

Here's a photo from 2016, when the brothers debuted at Oakland. They're a year and a half old in this photo.

(Photo Credit: Oakland Zoo)

And here's from an announcement for their third birthday.

(Photo credit: Oakland Zoo)

Okay, so these dudes obviously all were growing manes as of 2017. I think Tandie is the one on the left in the first photo, and laying down in the middle on the second. What happened?

I was just in the Bay Area for a zoo road trip, of course I went to Oakland and tracked down a docent to ask some questions.

It turns out that shortly after the brothers turned three, they started acting like adult male lions: they started scuffling regularly. It's a normal social thing for male lions to live in groups, called coalitions, but according to my lion experts there's generally a baseline level of some social jostling within them. It wasn't quite clear from what the docent said if they couldn't manage the boys together, or if they just wanted to avoid the scratches and small wounds that result from normal lion behavior. Regardless, they put all three of the boys on testosterone blockers in order to be able to keep them together as a social group.

Now, I don't know a lot about the use of hormone alteration as a form of captive animal management, except in the case of birth control. I don't think it's something that's unethical - there was just a webinar on it that I saw go by - but I don't think it's commonly done with big cats. Lions have kind of complicated reproductive cycles, and for instance, we've been learning that female lions can take much longer to come into estrus again than expected after coming off hormonal birth control.

In males, testosterone blockers (or being neutered) means they lose their manes. This is why a lot of rescues will do a vasectomy on their males instead of a neuter - it allows them to keep their mane and the social signals that accompany it.

Tandie returned home to Woodland Park Zoo after Xerxes passed in early 2022, and the docent told me all of the lions had been off their blockers "for while." I'd guess those things happened around the same time, since bringing the trio down to a duo at Oakland would reduce some of the social tensions.

Hormones are such interesting things, though. One of Tandie's brothers has a full mane again, and the other is still totally mane-less.

As for Tandie, his mane is growing back in, and it looks like he might rival his dad for length and coloration.

He started here, in February:

Yesterday:

What a difference four months (and maybe proximity to a girl) makes!

[aromanticasterisms]

cpc finale today and auugh. explodes forever

[satoruan]

r/ATIA for WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

More: Fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, dubcon, piss kink, necrophilia, manhandling, choking, coercion, teacher x student, power dynamics, blackmail, threesome, Cuck!Gojo, drinking. unedited

Featuring: Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru

PART 2

r/fuckingmystudent posted by u/Nanami_Kento 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to recall the events that lead you to get your brains fucked by your professor. He caught you filming a video for your Onlyfans in his class. So, he took your phone and asked you to meet him in his office after class. There, he forced you to unlock your phone and show him what exactly you were recording. It was utterly humiliating and watching him, watch you, finger yourself with a pen underneath the desk. After, he’d told you that he’d tell the dean you were getting off on his voice lecturing you unless you did something for him.  Which led you ass up on his desk, trying your hardest not to make a peep as his fat cock slammed in and out of you. “Now, what I'm going to do is take out my cell,” He grunts, rolling his hips deep into you. “And record you slamming your ass onto my cock so if you decide to open that sweet mouth of yours, I'll have no choice but to send this video to mommy and daddy back at home, understand?” You nod, tears forming in your eyes from the threat or incoming orgasm, probably both. “Say ‘Yes, Professor!’ and maybe I'll send you the video so you can post it and feed yourself this week.” 

r/peeinginher posted by u/choso_Kamo 

Ankles beside your head, Choso had you folded in half as he pounded into your swollen cunt. He’d been going for what felt like hours and you were about to reach another peak when he abruptly stopped. “Choso?” you rasp, voice raw from screaming. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, staring up at him as he stares down at your glistening cunt. He just tilts his head and continues to stare. You’re about to ask again when he blinks from whatever trance he is in and starts thrusting in and out, slower this time. “Nothin’ baby, jus’ gotta piss.” “T-then stop and go, hm–” you gasp when he pushes your legs down further. “Stop and go to the bathroom Cho.” you try to pull his hands off your calves. Choso tightens his hold and grins down at you. “C-Choso?” “Why would I get up when I have a perfectly capable toilet right here.” Is all you hear before you suddenly feel a foreign warmth in your cunt followed by wetness trickling out your pussy.  

r/askinghertoplaydead posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna 

“You wan’ me to do what?” You ask, staring up at him from your position between his legs. “I asked you to stop suckin’ my cock and hang off the bed like a drugged-up bitch on her last life.” He stares at you with a look that tells you he isn’t truly asking. “B-but ‘Kuna—” He grabs your throat. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, hm?” You grab the hand around your neck. “Mhm.” “This ‘ll make me happy, little girl,” He plants a firm kiss on your lips. “Now do as I told you, actually I’ll do it, I know you aren’t the best at following orders.” He says before pushing you back like a ragdoll. “Yes, now lay there, don’t move, don’t speak.” Sukuna reiterates, finally satisfied with your position, naked on your stomach with your head hanging off the bed. He wastes no time shoving his big cock into your cunt. You groan from the sudden intrusion “Kuna!” “Shut up, dead bitches don’t fuckin’ make sounds.”  

r/forcinga3some posted by u/Gojo_Satoru 

“Sit on his cock love,” Gojo demands, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you onto Suguru’s lap. “S-Satoru!” “’ Toru!” You and Geto screech at the same time. “C’mon guys, it’s fine I don’t mind, Loosen up!” Gojo looks at you on his best friend's lap and his cock twitching underneath his pants. He palms it. Don’t worry, we’ll have our turn. “I know you two want to fuck, c'mon! Do I really have to pull it out and shove it up your tight cunt?” Goji grits out, increasingly frustrated when the two of you stare at him like a pair of deer in headlights. “Baby, I-it was just a truth or dare question!” Your head aches and you put both of your hands on Suguru’s broad shoulders to stable yourself, trying and failing to ignore his hard under your panty-covered pussy. “Was it? So, you aren’t wet right now? And you Suguru? You aren't rock fucking hard at the thought of fucking the same pussy I cum in every night?” Gojo raises his eyebrow holding eye contact with you until you look away, face flushed. Suguru sighs, throwing his head back with murmured ‘fuck this.’ before grabbing your waist. “Yes! That’s what I thought. Ha!” Gojo laughs, watching as Suguru starts grinding you down on his bulge.  

[cesium-sheep]

something feels very bad and it feels like it's in my brain but my body's been shutting down for days so it's probably that. no telling if it's a proportionate emotional response to a terrible experience or a neurological symptom of being Precariously Ill.

[tonycries]

A ranking of JJK men from best to worst during your period (absolutely no one asked for this):

Nanami - Are you kidding me? In what world would this perfect husband NOT be number one?? Doesn't even need that lil' app on his phone to track your periods, bro remembers. He has it mapped out in his brain AND on his calendar. You don't even have to tell him when it starts, he'll be home with chocolates, your fav movies, and enough heating pads to last a lifetime going, "Hi, my love, I hope m'not too early but I got you these." He's never too early. Never.

Geto - Bro has been through the whole process twice already with his daughters. He KNOWS exactly what's going down when you get just a lil' too sensitive, when your cravings become just a tad sweeter. Would lay you down and give you the most soothing massages whispering about how it'll "all be over soon" and "his girl can tough it out." 10/10 is so patient, even has a period tracker on his phone.

Choso - Y'know he's a lil' confused but he's got the spirit. Curses don't have periods so trust he'll be MAD confused wondering whether you've somehow developed the same jujutsu technique as him. When you teach him though, he's gonna be the sweetest babygirl. Let's you cuddle and use him all you want, throw him around to your hearts content until you have the perfect pillow!! Only minus points would be for that little intrusive thought in his brain that just wants to.....experiment......with his technique....

Gojo - Now, you'd be confused about who has the period - you or HIM? Which, honestly if distraction is your go-to then it works out pretty well. Every cramp you get, Gojo just hates to see his pretty baby in pain, so he'd be crying out. He'd be right there moaning and groaning along with you until you're crying tears of laughter because what the fuck?? Extra points because he's a sweet connoisseur and knows ALL the best places to get you everything you want. Trust, bro doesn't skimp out either he'd be diving IN to that Gojo Estate old money just to get you more than everything you need. Much more.

Toji - Now, hear me out it's not that man doesn't know what to do. It's just that he doesn't want to. Not to bully his cute girl, but does he really have to get out of bed and walk the treacherous block down to the convenience store to get you extra pads? Really? He'd much rather stay in bed cuddling you and kissing every inch of your face he could reach - seriously, his old bones are creaking at the very thought of moving. But, eventually, when you do bribe him with a dollar convince him to go, he'd be pampering you and more with your own money.

Sukuna - Bro definitely tells you to "just suck it back in wtf." -3878473 aura for him, but at least Uraume is on your side and gives him a good whack to the head. When he realizes a bit tho would be a bit softer than usual, at least he'll stop calling you his usual names after your sensitive self tears up at them. Mhm, definitely take him to try out a cramp simulator, though he deserves it.