#and the button came off so i move it half an inch to take them in at the waist and now i can wear them without needing a belt again

[mossy-covered-bones]

What people need to understand is that even the smallest, shittiest bit of tailoring they do to their clothes can make a huge difference

[sleepyjuice]

weed, sex, beach - jj maybank

summary: you and jj share a joint on the beach and have some good ol’ beach sex.

warnings: 18+!!! drug use (weed), semi public sex (there is no one around but it’s still in a public place), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, dirty talk, a lil praise kink.

wc: 2064

a/n: this is literally just filthy dirty smut. had me giggling and kicking my feet writing this. enjoy! <3

It was well past dusk, the only nearby light source being the moon which illuminated the dark waves that splashed onto the shore.

It was beautiful, this spot jj had taken you to. No one else around for miles, only you and jj occupying this little sliver of the beach that he claimed was a ‘hidden gem.’

It was, it was peaceful and you could get away from the congestion of your hectic lives for a bit.

“I like it here, jay.” You hummed, head on jj’s shoulder as you both sat on a beach towel, one and a half joints deep.

He flashed you a satisfied smile as he passed you the joint, his hand rubbing softly up and down your thigh.

You brought it to your lips and inhaled, holding it in a bit longer than usual as you decided this would be your last hit of the night, your eyes feeling heavy and your body loose.

“Atta girl. You done?” He asked, taking the now almost finished joint from you.

Nodding in response, you rested your head against his shoulder, watching the gentle waves move in front of you.

You loved moments like these. Just you and jj and the tranquility of the beach. All the drama this island brought was long forgotten when you got to experience this side of things.

jj finished off the last of the joint, putting it out in the sand below before slowly inching his fingertips up your thighs.

You instinctively opened your legs a bit, allowing him to go higher, a soft sigh leaving your lips. His light touch felt so much stronger and it felt like his fingertips held electricity.

“That feel good?” He whispered against your ear, and you hadn’t even realized you let out a quiet whimper, your mind a beat behind your body.

“Yeah, it does,” he answered for you, chuckling softly, his fingers now undoing the buttons on your shorts, “let me take care of you, pretty girl.” Your head fell back and off of his shoulder, your gaze finding jj’s face as he worked to undo your shorts and pull them off your legs, leaving you only in your shirt and bikini bottoms.

He cupped your pussy through the fabric, and this time you were well aware of the moan that fell from your lips, moving your head down to watch as he slipped a finger through, rubbing a slow line up and down your wet slit.

You didn’t miss the slick sound that his actions created, and neither did he, his dick now fully hard in his shorts as he began rubbing circles on your clit.

“You’re all wet for me, baby. Look at you.” He cooed gently, chuckling when you bucked your hips against his hand, desperate for more of him.

“Need you, jj.” You breathed, completely at his mercy.

Your words emitted a groan from him, his dick now painfully pressing against the seam of his shorts, begging to be released, to feel you.

“I know, sweet girl. Let me see you.” He moved his body so he was in front of you now, but not before he gently laid you down on the towel. Keeping his motions against your clit, he used his other hand to fully remove your bikini, sliding it down your legs.

You shivered as you were now fully exposed from the waist down, the soft ocean breeze hitting your wet pussy and bringing goosebumps to your skin.

He quickened his pace against your clit, your mouth falling open as you shamelessly grew closer to your high. It didn’t take much, the weed very much present in your system had your body feeling extra sensitive and after spending the whole night with jj, you were already fiending for him.

“I know, baby, I know, let go for me, yeah…” he urged you on, sensing how close you were without you having to say anything.

You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a loud moan, your eyes rolling back as you came, his fingers working you perfectly as you rode out your orgasm, thighs clenching and threatening to close due to how sensitive you were.

“Fuck,” you panted, reaching to grab jj’s wrist to pull it away from your now throbbing clit, the sensitivity too much.

He chuckled at your actions, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick up your arousal that had coated them.

“God…” you breathed, his sensual actions making your pussy ache for more of him.

“Need you to fuck me.” You spoke, not a care in the world.

“Yes, ma’am.” At that, he wasted no time undoing his shorts and pulling them off, the tent in his boxers present along with the wet spot that pooled just where his tip rested, precum leaking eagerly.

He quickly rid himself of his boxers, his hard cock springing free from its restraint and you swore your mouth was watering at the sight of him like this. His tip was slightly swollen, the moonlight gently illuminated his slick precum that was leaking down onto the base of his cock. He was perfect.

He spread your thighs a bit more, positioning his body between your legs, his hand pumping his cock slowly as he slid it teasingly against your leaking entrance and up to press against your clit, gathering your arousal and dampening his cock even more.

You whined at the feeling of him, not usually caring about his teasing actions, but right now, you needed him inside of you. Your pussy ached at the feeling of emptiness, his cock right there and so close to being inside of you had you ready to throw all of your morals away. You were so down bad for him.

“Eager, huh? You need this sweet pussy fucked good, huh?” He teased, lightly smacking his cock against your sensitive clit, a hiss falling from your lips at the feeling.

“jj, please, please.” You begged, not a care in the world. He loved this, though. He loved how much you needed him this way, and he certainly needed you, too. He ached for the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you, but seeing you so desperate for him was one of the hottest things in the world.

“Shh, I got you, baby, I got you. Imma take care of ya.” He assured you, lining himself up with your entrance as he slowly pushed himself in, his mouth falling open at the feeling.

Your body accepted him immediately, taking little to no time to adjust to his cock, allowing him to bottom out almost immediately.

You moaned at the feeling, his tip pressed deep inside your pussy as he stayed still for a moment, relishing in the feeling.

His balls were pressed against your ass, both of you breathing heavily as you waited for him to move.

“Please-“

He pulled back swiftly, cutting you off as he began to finally thrust his cock into you, a loud gasp falling from your lips at his movement.

He found a good rhythm, his hand grabbing onto your thigh and lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as he pounded into you.

He grunted with each movement, your pussy swallowing his cock perfectly, gripping him tightly as he fucked into your wet walls.

“Let me…” he grumbled, stilling his movements for just a second as he grabbed onto both of your legs, bending your knees and positioning you so your legs were bent and your knees were pressed up against your chest.

“Oh, fuck, yeah…” he groaned loudly as he began his movements again, this new position allowing him to fuck you even deeper, hitting parts of you he had never reached before.

You gasped, which quickly turned into a loud moan, reaching your hands up to hold onto his shoulders as he fucked you relentlessly, your tits bouncing beneath your shirt with each movement.

“You like it like this, baby? Like feeling me so deep inside of you?” He grunted, quickening his pace, his tip hitting your g-spot perfectly with each thrust.

“I- oh god, yeah, so good.” You panted, digging your fingers into the skin of his shoulders as if you were holding onto him for dear life.

His movements were hard and quick, and with each thrust you could feel his heavy balls smacking against your asshole, which only brought you closer to your end.

“Takin’ me so well, baby. You’re- you’re perfect, my perfect girl, this pussy is so perfect.” He praised you between moans, his breathing staggered as he attempted to speak through the euphoric pleasure that filled his entire body.

Your pussy clenched around him, hugging his cock tightly as he continued to fuck just the right spot inside of you.

“I’m close, oh fuck… jj- oh god, I’m close.” You whined, your heart rate picking up as you felt your lower stomach twist and tighten, your fingernails now pressing harshly into his skin.

“I know, baby, let go for me. Cum all over my dick for me.” He moaned hoarsely, his own cock twitching as he felt you tighten around him.

It didn’t take much more, his cock hit your g-spot once again, and that was it for you.

Your head fell back onto the sand, eyes rolled back as you came, your pussy clenching so hard onto his cock that it pushed him out, squirt gushing out of you and all over his cock and down his balls, some painting his shirt as well.

“Oh, fuuuckkk…” jj gaped, quickly grabbing his cock and shoving it back inside of you, continuing his previous movements as your pussy continued to flutter and clench around him.

You moaned so loudly, a straight up pornographic sound filling the air as you came, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you continued to ride out your high, the wet sounds of jj’s dick fucking into your soaking pussy was euphoric.

His now soaked balls were warm with your release, smacking against your ass once again, only heightening the sensation you were feeling.

“Fuck, baby, I’m ’bout to cum.” jj announced only a second before you felt his cock twitch inside of you and you felt him fill you up with thick hot spurts of his cum.

He groaned loudly through his release, keeping a steady hand on your upper thigh so he wouldn’t slip out again, the mixture of both of your releases creating a wet mess between you.

“God, you’re so good, so so good.” He muttered as his thrusts slowed, both of your releases now leaking out of your pussy and down onto his balls before he eventually stilled inside of you, taking a moment to catch his breath as his dick slowly softened.

You were a panting mess below him, feeling properly fucked and full of his cum, your pussy clenching around his softening cock as it adjusted to not feeling as full anymore.

He eventually pulled out of you, thick globs of his cum pooling out of your pussy and onto the towel below you.

He leaned down to kiss your damp forehead, peppering a few slow kisses before kissing your plump lips sloppily, having to pull away as he was still working to properly catch his breath.

“That was so good, baby.” He smiled lovingly down at you, pulling up the corner of the towel to somewhat clean you up the best he could.

You sighed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down on top of you, relaxing at the feeling of his body weight on top of you as you held him close, breathing in his scent. Ocean water, sweat, weed, sex and a hint of cologne he had put on hours ago.

“I love you so much.” You hummed, the serotonin from the sex and the weed pooling around in your brain. You couldn’t ask for anything more in life.

“I love you, too, baby.” He spoke against your skin, his legs intertwining with yours.

“Ugh, we have to walk all the way back.” You spoke after a moment, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Your legs were jelly, that thought just about ruined the moment.

jj laughed loudly at that, shushing you with another kiss.

“Don’t worry ‘bout that right now, baby. I got you.”

[sams-butt-dem0n]

ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BEGGING. For reader taking Johnny Cade's first time.

First Time - Johnny x reader

Warnings: smut smut smut, Johnny being a little nervous at the beginning, he's defo a bottom just saying, some colourful language

Word Count: 827

A/N: I love writing smut but only when I'm in the mood. I can't decide on how I want to write Johnny as a bottom but he is NOT having a mommy kink ( I really hate the mommy and daddy kins I just can't deal)

• You and Johnny had been dating for a while now, just over 6 months, and you both felt ready to take things to the next level.

• It was a little difficult for you and Johnny to have some time alone due to his parents being the way they are and your parents being so strict - however, you both found a way.

• The few times that Johnny has been allowed over to your house, you had countless make-out sessions and were all over each other. Not gonna lie, you might have left a hickey or two once...

• Today was the day. your parents had gone on a road trip and were going to be away for at least three days, leaving you to your own devices. You were an only child so there wasn't even anyone who could rat you out.

• You were restricted to staying inside unless you were going to school or to the store but of course, you didn't listen. how would they know?

• You met up with Johnny and walked back to your house, stepping into your very much pink and white room,. the energy feeling more tense now that you knew you were alone. Completely alone.

• "Y/n," Johnny says, breaking the make-out the two of you were having. "I want to."

• You were shocked. You weren't a virgin but you never prepared yourself for how you would feel when those words came out of his mouth. "You do?"

• He nods, kissing your lips again.

• He definitely doesn't know what to do with his hands. He helps you unclasp your bra and take your panties off but after that, he's clueless.

• You're still making out, your hands on his bare chest and you take one of them and grab his wrist, pulling his hand down to your inner thigh.

• His fingers graze your skin and he slowly inches them up to your heat. He takes his thumb and begins to rub small circles on your clit, his breath becoming heavier.

• You moan softly in his ear, whispering his name. "Johnny." He pulls his hand away and looks into your eyes as your fingers trail down to the button of his jeans, undo it and pull them down to his knees, letting him kick them off.

• "Y/n, I-I don't know what I'm doing," Johnny says, extremely nervous.

• "It's okay, Johnny," you say, straddling him, your bare pussy pressed against his rock-hard, clothed dick. "Everything will be fine. I'll make sure of it."

• "O-okay," he replies, half concerned whisper, half moan at the feeling of you on top of him.

• Johnny at first is a little shy, you being on top, you make sure he's looking at you while you ride him, his hands laying softly on your hips.

• You definitely have to tell him halfway through that he's allowed to move his hands and grab your tits or your ass.

• He finds out that he loved being controlled during sex. He loves it when you tell him what to do when you tell him to be louder or grab you harder.

• He wants to be the only person in your life, especially in that moment.

• Definitely a whiner instead of a moaner; he doesn't make a lot of noise but you can clearly hear the neediness through his soft groans and extended whines.

• Finds out that his favourite position is cowgirl, he can see everything that's going on and yet he can sit up and kiss you and hold you close while you slowly grind on him.

• The first time is VERY vanilla, almost no dirty talk, no kinks, just simple and soft sex while you whisper sweet nothing into his ear.

• He definitely gets kinda scared and very confused when he hits the G-spot for the first time: the way your eyes roll back, your mouth drops open and your body shakes with pleasure.

• Asks you if you're okay afterwards, worried if he hurt you or did anything wrong. "Are you okay? Did I do a good job? I hope it wasn't terrible."

• You chuckle slightly, a bead of sweat rolling between your breasts. "It was wonderful, honey. You were amazing."

• The two of you just lay there and stare into each other's eyes, smiling whenever one of you looks at the other's lips.

• "Thank you," Johnny says. "I love you."

• "I love you too."

[hardstraykidshours]

👀 if you're still taking requests: "enemies to lovers"-esque where reader insinuates that bang chan has popcorn muscles. pabo chan takes the bait and sees red #strengthkink

anonnnnnnn...omfg. i love a good enemies to lovers trope and don't even get me started on strength kink 👀👀👀 i also went wild and decided to sprinkle in some jealousy because i just couldn't help myself. i really hope you like what i came up with for you! enjoy!!!!

❤️ abbie & courtney

-------------------------------------------

pairing: chan x afab!reader

genre: smut, 18+ (minors dni)

length: 3.3k (oops)

warnings: profanity, sexual/suggestive content, dom!chan , sub!reader, jealousy, taunting, degredation if you squint, fingering, orgasm denial, hate sex (kinda?), unprotected sex (please wrap before you tap), creampie, afab reader, nsfw 18+ (minors dni)

“holy shit how is he carrying that?” you didn’t even realize you had said the words aloud, too transfixed by the way changbin was carrying three boxes at once. “like what the fuck? is he superman or something? i wish he’d carry me like that.” you mumble to yourself, completely unaware that chan had walked up behind you and heard every word.

you couldn’t help it. it’s not like it was your fault every single muscle in changbin’s arm was bulging with strain as he helped move your boxes up the stairs. when you had asked the guys to help you move into your new apartment you had expected them to show up and move some boxes, not give you a whole goddam show. you would have never thought you could get so wet over some cardboard. 

changbin bends down to pick up yet another stack of boxes and you have to literally suppress a moan at the way his arms flex and contract. how did you never realize he was so shredded? like jesus christ, he’s so built. you find yourself imagining what it would be like to lick every single inch of his body, feeling the curves and ridges of his strong muscles beneath your tongue.

“can you at least close your mouth if you’re going to watch him? you’re literally drooling.”

the sound of chan’s voice makes you jump and you snap your mouth closed. a blush creeps up your cheeks as you whirl around and realize he was watching you. of all people to catch you staring, of course it had to be chan.

"i don't know what you're talking about.”

“uh huh, sure. that sounded super believable.” the blatant sarcasm in his tone makes your defensive nature start to rise to the surface.

“and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you’re really going to try and tell me that you weren’t staring at changbin’s muscles? as if i didn't just find you blatantly watching him, mouth wide open like you were looking at your next fucking meal.” 

“well….i…." you stumble over your words as you try to devise a plausible excuse. "oh just shut up." you don’t miss the way he chuckles softly in response, clearly enjoying how flustered you are.

god, he's so fucking irritating. he knows exactly what all your buttons are and goes out of his way to push them. and of course he also has to be friends with changbin and jisung. you love hanging out with them, but chan is just always there, annoying you with that cocky grin and his stupid comments.

“what are you doing here anyways?" you snap, already on edge after only a few minutes of being around him.

"helping you move, duh."

"last i checked i asked changbin and jisung to help. not you."

"well we all have plans later so they asked me to come lend a hand so we aren't late. i figured with my help we'll finish in half the time."

he flexes his arms dramatically and you can't help, but roll your eyes. "oh please, you may look good--"

"so you admit i look good?" he smirks and you have to fight the urge to smack the grin off his face.

"if you would let me finish, i was going to say, you may look good, but we all know those muscles are just for show. unlike theirs." you nod across the room towards changbin and jisung who are carrying a dresser into your room. their arms are bulging under the weight of the heavy furniture and you watch as a bead of sweat starts to run down changbin's face. god, you'd like to lick that off.

"could you be any more obvious?"

you snap your gaze back to chan, another wave of irritation rolling through you. "could you be any more annoying? it's not my fault i like a man who can actually use his muscles instead of just flaunting them like a fucking trophy."

"i'm only annoying because you make it so easy sweetheart." he taunts condescendingly, knowing how much you hate it when he calls you that. he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you smack his hand away harshly, frustrated that he always knows just how to get under your skin.

"and for your information, these arms can do more than just look incredible. a lot more." with that he strides across the room, tossing a sly wink over his shoulder.

he quickly gets to work, moving heavy boxes and furniture with ease. as the afternoon wears on he never breaks his brisk pace and you have to admit you're a little impressed with how strong he is. not that you would ever give him the satisfaction of saying that out loud to him.

as your getting some things settled, you end up changing your mind about the layout of your living room, so you ask the guys to move the couch when they finish dropping off the boxes they're carrying.

"where do you want it?"

you turn around from the bin you were unpacking and your eyes widen in surprise for a moment before you manage to fully mask your reaction. apparently, chan decided not to wait for the other guys to move the couch. so now he's just standing in the middle of your living room, holding an entire fucking couch. like it's not a huge couch, but still.

"ummm, over there against that wall." you mumble, trying not to stare too heavily at his bulging biceps or the thick veins snaking down his forearms and hands. he walks across the room and settles the couch into the spot you indicated gently. the entire movement looks almost effortless, as if moving a whole couch took little to no exertion. okay, so maybe you're more than just a little bit impressed with his strength.

the look on your face must have betrayed you a little because when chan turns around and looks back at you his lips tilt up into a smug smile. "i told you they weren't just for looks."

"oh just shut up and get the rest of the boxes."

"whatever you say sweetheart," he taunts, a knowing smirk on his face as he heads downstairs to grab the rest of the stuff from the moving truck.

"hey is there anything else you need moved?" jisung asks as he walks out of your bedroom, changbin close behind him.

"no, i think that should do it, chan's getting the last of my things right now and i'm pretty happy with where all the furniture is. thank you guys again for helping me, there is literally no way i could have done it all myself. and i really didn't want to have to pay movers and then awkwardly stand around for a couple of hours while strange men came in and out of my apartment."

"of course! you know we'd never subject you to the horrors of having to talk to a stranger alone. but, if we're all done, i think we are gonna head out. we need to swing by our place before tonight because there is literally no way i'm going out with this one if he doesn't shower first." he glances over his shoulder, a look of faux disgust on his face and changbin shoves his shoulder playfully. "shut up, we both know you smell like a fucking locker room right now. anyways, if you need anything or when you inevitably decide you hate where everything is in three days just hit us up, we are pretty free this week."

"thanks guys! i totally owe you one!"

you wave as they leave and plop down on your couch, exhausted from all the moving and unpacking. pulling out your phone, you start mindlessly scrolling, not looking up when chan comes striding into the apartment a few moments later. he moves to set down the last of the boxes, talking as he does.

"i ran into the guys on my way back in and they said that we're all set. so i guess that's my cue to leave as well."

"yup, thanks for your help today. i guess." you mumble, still not looking up from your phone.

you hear him chuckle lightly at your half-hearted thank you as he heads back to the door. "oh and don't forget to hydrate after all the drooling you did today."

your eyes snap up to find him leaning against the door frame, that irritating smirk painting his lips.

"i was not drooling!" you defend, wishing he would just leave. it was bad enough having to deal with him when the guys were here to help act as a buffer. but when you're alone with him it takes all your self control to not strangle him and you're just too tired to deal with that right now.

"oh please, i should've gotten you a towel to help clean up after you watched me move that couch."

"oh my god, just let it go." you return your attention back to your phone, slumping further into the couch. you don't register that you never heard the door open and close until chan's hands suddenly land on the cushions on either side of your head. you jump in surprise, dropping your phone into your lap.

"why are you still here?"

"because i'm not going to leave until you admit that you were wrong."

"what are you talking about? and get out of my space," you shove at his chest and have to force yourself to not think about how hard his muscles felt beneath your hand.

"admit that you think i'm strong." he leans over and you can't help but notice the way his biceps bulge with the motion. you swallow thickly, trying to pretend you’re not affected by his suddenly invasive presence. you will not give him the satisfaction of knowing that this is turning you on a little. so, you pick your phone back up and start scrolling again, pasting a bored look on your face.

“oh, is that how it’s going to be?” he asks while plucking the phone out of your hands and crowding into your space even further. “you’re going to pretend i don’t exist? don't think i didn't notice you staring at me today. i bet you were wet all afternoon while you watched me work."

taking a breath to steady yourself, you move your gaze to connect with his. “well sorry to disappoint, but you couldn't be more wrong.” the words come out much more confidently than you feel with his large body towering over you.

“oh, okay, sure,” he replies before dipping down to plant a chaste kiss against your neck. your body freezes, every muscle locking up as all your senses zero in on the feeling of his mouth on your skin. “you keep telling yourself that you didn't notice me.” he mumbles the words against your sensitive flesh and you have to fight the urge to moan as his soft lips brush against your skin again and again. "that you weren't thinking about all the things i could do to you."

"i...i wasn't. you're the last person on earth that i would want to sleep with." your words sound unconvincing even to your own ears. the denial loses even more credibility when you find yourself threading your fingers through his hair as he moves to latch his mouth to the other side of your neck.

"who said anything about sleeping with you? i just mentioned all the things you were thinking about me doing to you. careful sweetheart, your horny is showing."

"i fucking hate you."

you feel his breath puff across your skin as he chuckles lightly before leaning in again. your head tips back against the couch behind you as he nips at your throat and you can’t suppress the soft moan that escapes when he laps softly at the sore spot.

you tug at his hair to pull him closer to you and you feel him groan against your neck. his hands are suddenly underneath your thighs and you feel yourself being lifted, and then moved, until your back is pressed against a wall. heat floods your core at the feeling of his hard body against yours, but before you can even fully absorb the sensation, chan’s mouth is against yours and you lose yourself in his tongue.

bright hot arousal courses through you as his mouth moves with yours, every lap of his tongue and nip of his teeth sending bolts of electricity straight to your core. his hands grip your thighs as he makes out with you and you can’t help but focus on the way his fingers press into your flesh, as if they are trying to memorize every inch of you before you disappear.

you know this is a bad idea. he's never going to let you live this down and you're definitely going to hate yourself for this later. but when his mouth is on you like this, you can't find it in yourself to care.

he shifts so he's holding you up with just one arm, his other hand moving up to wrap around the back of your neck, pulling your mouth closer to his. you moan into the kiss and you wrap your thighs around his waist, his arousal even more present as you start to roll your hips against him. you’re vaguely aware of the way he moves the two of you down the hall as you continue to make-out. he suddenly drops you onto your mattress, the movement abruptly breaking the kiss. he crawls onto the bed after you, settling between your legs before reconnecting his mouth with yours.

“oh god, chan,” you murmur against his lips, thrusting your hips into his, desperate for more contact. his mouth starts to move down your neck, sucking on the flesh hard enough that you know it will leave marks.

"look at you. i've barely done more than kiss you and you're already moaning my name. when are you going admit that i drive you crazy? that you're completely desperate for me. that--"

"just shut and fuck me before i have time to remember how much i can't stand you."

you try to grind against him but he presses his broad body down against yours, preventing you from moving.

"nice try there sweetheart, but i'm in charge here." heat floods your system at the dominance in his voice. with one quick movement he rids you of your panties, his fingers quickly replacing the fabric. he strokes your soaking pussy a few times before diving in, plunging his fingers deep inside of you.

"god you're so wet for me. i've bet you've been dripping all afternoon, just waiting for me." you open your mouth to protest, but when you feel his thumb press against your clit, your brain empties of all thoughts. he continues to work you with his fingers and you feel your high rapidly approaching. just when you think you are going to tip over the edge, he pulls away and you whine in protest.

“no!” you gasp, barely able to form words beyond your desperation for him. “i need more! please, give me more!”

“oh? now you'll admit you want me?” he asks, smirking down at you.

"no that's not what i meant. i will never admit--" your words die in your throat as he plunges his fingers back inside of you, curling them to hit that spot just right. a loud gasp escapes you and you throw your head back, overcome by the sudden pleasure coursing through your veins. he continues to stroke you, pumping his fingers at the perfect place, drawing you closer and closer to release until…

“no! please don’t stop!” you practically sob when you feel him stop his ministrations yet again, just before your orgasm. 

“you think i’m going to let you come without my cock buried inside you? you think i'm going to give you the satisfaction of release before you admit how desperate you really are for me? no, no, no, that just wouldn’t do."

“please, chan, please just give it to me,” you beg, dying for his touch, your release teetering on the edge.

“oh i will, but not until you say the words." he looks down at you and you bite your lip, determined to not give in. but then he starts to move away from you and your hands lash out, gripping onto his biceps with deadly force.

“okay fine!” you practically scream. “i was staring at you all afternoon and i hate it. i hate that i couldn't get myself to look away. i hate that all i could think about as i watched you was what your muscles would feel like if you used them on me. so please, please, i’m begging you, take me. fuck me until i’m screaming around your cock, make me come harder than anyone has ever made me come.”

“there. now that wasn't so hard, now was it?”

he quickly removes his pants and boxers. before you can even blink he’s pounding into you in a way you have never been fucked before. your eyes roll back as pleasure overtakes your system once more, his cock hitting you just right with every stroke.

pure bliss starts to overwhelm your senses and you move your hands to his stomach, dying to feel the way his abdomen contracts as he thrusts into you. his hands catch your wrists and pin them above your head before you get the chance to feel anything and you can’t help but whine in protest.

“oh, so now you want to feel my muscles?” he taunts as you squirm beneath him. “did you really think that after all your arguing i would just let you have whatever you want?” he flicks his thumb across your aching clit and you can only mewl in response, your hips jerking towards his hand, eager for more contact.

he smirks at your reaction, reveling in the effect he has on you. he starts pounding into you harder than before, his thumb working your clit in earnest. it takes no time at all before you feel yourself tip over the edge, thighs beginning to shake as pleasure wracks your body. curses and cries of his name pour from your lips as you come, your legs wrapping around his body to hold him close as you do. 

you try to wrap your arms around him, but his hands continue to keep your wrists hostage, holding them to the bed as you come. you can feel his strength surrounding you. you're completely at his mercy and that thought makes you come harder, aftershocks rippling through you as he keeps you pinned beneath him.

“fuck, yes, that’s my girl,” he murmurs as your orgasm washes over you, his words only heightening the experience. “god you feel so good… fuck… you’re gonna make me--” the feeling of you pulsing around his throbbing cock becomes to much and his hips stutter as he starts to lose control. he curses when his release finds him, dropping his head to your shoulder as he comes deep inside of you.

he collapses against you as he finishes, his body pinning you to the bed beneath him. you feel yourself drowning in him, but for some reason you feel comforted rather than overwhelmed, his large frame surrounding you in every way. 

silence overtakes the room, the only sound filling it being your collective gasping as you both try and catch your breath. finally, chan speaks, his deep voice rumbling against your skin. 

"i'm glad you finally decided to admit how you really feel. lying's not a good look for you."

"oh my god," you groan, shoving at his shoulders. "i still hate you."

"oh i know sweetheart. i know."

tag list: @sensitiveandhungry

[lyssaterald]

Take Flight, Part ?: Diavolo Smut

What the title says. Just practicing my smut scenes. Leave feedback if you want.

Content Warning: General spoilers for the main story. Minors and ageless accounts do not interact! Named character and slight mentions of character’s past and history, which are not expanded on as they are not important to this chapter. Weirdly, I switch between past and present tense. Sorry, not sorry. Unbeta read.

Masterlist

‐--------

Diavolo's hands were tight on my hips as he tried to regain himself and try to will himself calm, a fight he was losing as I continued to kiss and nibble his neck and ear. We'd started innocently enough with homework and paperwork with plans for dinner after, but he'd invited me to sit with him while he was working.

Seeing as there was only the one chair and he was grinning brightly at me, I'd taken the only seat available and dropped myself into his lap. It was a tight fit for the both of us, but I managed to slot my thighs over his and push myself as close as possible to him. His eyes had darkened before that first kiss and thirty minutes later we were still making out.

He had loosened my shirt from my slacks and undone each button with precise care until he could free my breasts from my bra and palm them. His blazer and under shirts hadn't been treated with such care in my eagerness to reach skin and one or two had popped off, with much laughter and smirking from him. So I'd set fangs into the skin between neck and shoulder and he damn near bucked me off his lap with his thrust and gasp.

And I hadn't relented, considering all the teasing he usually put me through when we were together. I littered his collar bone and neck with little love bites, occasionally licking or sucking the fading marks. His hands moved from my breasts to my hips so he could hold me against his growing erection and grind into me.

It was a pleasant way to explore and map his body as my hands traveled the expanse of his chest and dipped teasingly towards his belt. His little grunts and moans just spurred me further as his grinding provided enough friction to satisfy me for now. He groaned when my hands slid back up his chest.

"Lys, sweetling, we should stop here for now," he gasped when I bit that spot again. "Keep that up and I will take you across my desk." That was a growl and I pulled back to catch his half lidded gaze.

"If you wanted to stop, we'd already be done," I commented.

The movement from the chair to the desk was a blur of spinning color for a moment and then I was chest down on his paperwork, his hands easing my pants and underwear over my hips. He leaned over me and gave my neck a kiss.

"My turn, sweetling." There was the clink of his belt and then he was running the head of his cock against my slit and had me shuddering. One hand came to rest on my hip as he asked, "Hard or fast, sweetling?"

"Both," I hissed, arching up into his chest and trying to thrust back against him. His hand held me in place as he began to rock into me, making us both moan. "Dia."

"Both, huh?" He mused, slowly rocking himself into me inch by inch. I was held between his hips and the desk, unable to do anything except reach back and drape my arms over his shoulders. The stretch was borderline painful without prep but the pleasure was louder when he hilted himself inside of me. He paused to give me a moment to adjust but I was squirming against him. He tweaked a nipple and caught my attention. "What if we did neither?"

I could only groan at with the frenzied need he had stirred up. "Diavolo. Please."

His lips on my neck turned into a sharp nip and drew a gasp from me. Another at my ear and then a scattering of love bites as revenge for those that I had given him earlier. He started a gentle rhythm of fucking into me and his fingers slowly circling on my clit had me groaning in frustration.

It was enough friction to feel good but not enough to tip me over. I was rocking on the edge of an orgasm and he kept me there for several long minutes and then he whispered to me, "Beg. Desperation looks good on you. Indulge me just a little longer."

A growl rumbled in my chest as claws clenched into the back of his blazer. His hands came up to roll and pinch my breasts as his thrusts became a little faster, a little harsher. Maybe we hadn't been together that long, but I had thought he knew me a little better than that.

"Make me," I told him and squeezed my walls around his cock.

He made a muffled sound into my neck and slammed back into me, releasing thick ropes of cum into my womb. We stood there for a long minute as he regained his breath and hid his face in my shoulder. It was me moving to grip the desk and push back into him onto his still hardened cock that brought him back to his senses.

His hand on my back flattened my breasts and chest to the desk again. The other hand to my hip both stopped my movements and shoved me higher onto the desk so that my toes barely brushed the floor. His knees further parted my thighs so he sank another inch into me at a different angle that brushed my G-spot and had me crying out.

He hummed happily at the sound and pulled out just enough to slam back in. The desk rattled under the force of it. "Dia," I moaned, trying to arch into him. His hand remained a solid weight on my back.

"Hard enough?" He asked pleasantly.

"Yes."

"Good, because I am going to rail you after that little stunt and you will cum untouched just by my fucking you...oh...three times should do it."

Fuck.

And his pace was relentless, just enough brutality to make my hips ache and bruise but not hurt more than that. My "hah, hah, hah"s matched his thrusts as he hit my G-spot every time. The slap of his skin on mine was obscene and wet and did nothing to quell the fire under my skin.

"Dia, please," was all I could moan. "Diavolo, please. Please, please." I was panting with desire and need and starting to realize I wouldn't cum without his touch for a very long time despite his pace and force. He had angled himself just so he was providing friction without rubbing my clit.

Even when I hooked my ankles around his knees, he just chuckled and adjusted to the new position. "You really should have tried begging earlier, but keep it up. Who knows, it might change my mind if you're sweet enough."

"Fuck."

"Indeed, I am."

He reduced me to whimpering and whines as we continued. The afternoon darkness turned darker as tears of frustration gathered in my eyes. My leg muscles were screaming so I dropped them back by his again. I tried squeezing down on him again, clamping my walls as tight as I could but all he did was groan in pleasure, release more hot cum into my body, and keep going.

"Diavolo," I moaned. "Please let me cum. I need it, need you, please just touch me."

"You can cum whenever you like," he chuckled back and then wriggled the fingers on my back and hip. "And I am touching you. You'll have to be a bit more specific, sweetling."

The blush that settled over my cheeks felt like fire was kissing my skin. I met his eyes over my shoulder and he grinned at me, continuing to thrust harshly into me even as he leaned forward to steal a kiss.

Later, I wouldn't even be able to say how the pheromones released, but I realized they were sinking into my skin and Diavolo's when the fire inside burned suddenly brighter. I tried to pull back, but Diavolo followed and, after a moment, pulled himself out and flipped me so I was sitting in front of him on his desk. Pants and underwear were quickly kicked off and the shirt was yanked down my shoulders and twisted into makeshift restraints.

"You should try a higher dose if you're trying to distract me," he chuckled, pulling me forward by my thighs to brush the tip of his cock against my slit.

Words get harder to form as the aphrodisiac of the pheromones rears its head in my blood, but I try. "Was...wasn't...trying to-" I managed before his lips are on mine and his tongue sliding with mine.

Diavolo hilted himself in me in one sharp thrust that had me screaming into his mouth and clenching down on him again. He fucked me gently through my climax as he explored my mouth. Heat began to build in my core again as he continued the easy pace. Once I was groaning and pulling at the shirt, he drew back and smiled just before he yanked me to the edge and moved one of my legs over his shoulder. I groaned at the angle change and leaned back on my elbows, glad I could at least lay my hands along my sides.

"Comfortable?" Dia asked with a wolfish grin and I could only nod. "Good, because we are far from done."

[hanjisunglover]

heya! may i be ⭐🍰 anon if its not taken? (ik my user is exposed bc im gonna show a photo but ill still be an anon) thanks☺. but i have a thought to bring to the table anddd its abt jisung so you may love it or like it! but enough rabbling, let me tell you the thought.

imagine if jisung looked like this everytime you give him head. like it'll be a calm Saturday afternoon and jisung just came from being at the dorms for the week. you were in the room with Bbama laying on your chest while you play your animal chef game on your phone. jisung comes in says hi and gives hugs and kisses then gets in the shower. after his shower he puts on a sweater like black shirt on and basketball shorts. then you asked him how was practice and his day went. he told you about it and talked about him being stressed a bit and how he needed some type of relief (*wink wink*). so you put Bbame down in his bed in the living room then come back to the room and started putting up your hair. jisung is a bit confused then he realizes,your about to give him head.he watches you sink to your knees on his side of the bed then look at him "ji,if you dont mind taking your shorts off for me?" you said in your always soft voice and he immediately started taking off his shorts. you see hes left in his black briefs,then you started softly kissing the bulge in them. jisung let out a sigh as he watches you with his plump bottom lip his in mouth. after your teasing, you pull down his briefs and his 7 inches springed out and softly slapped his belly button, it was a bit girthy but the stretch felt so good when he'll enter you. his pink red-ish tips' precum oozing out, it looked delicious and your mouth started to water. the shaft slightly curving up a bit. jisung looks at you waiting eagerly for you to take him in his mouth...

(im gonna leave this here and let you do your amazing magic and make this piece of trash wayyy better. and sorry if theres mistakes and sorry again for the basically huge paragraph or more. and btw, DO NOT feel pressure to write this! totally fine with me if you just react to it and not write ;) buttt ill see if you write it or not~ bye bye! 😘)

hello ⭐🍰 anon, sooo nice to have you here! AND OMG YOU DON'T GET IT HOW MUCH I THINK ABOUT THAT VLOG. your writing skills >>>, also it's pretty short but yeah

warnings: switch reader, switch hanji, oral receiving (m), praise kink, cum eating.

Your eyes are locked in his, he's looking at you so impatiently that it's driving you crazy and still need even to taste his pre-cum. "Angel please, do- do something."

Your hands travel on his thighs, as your breath hits the sensitive head of his cock, Jisung grab lightly your hair driving your mouth to him, "show some respect baby," you make fun of him — just to see his expression getting darker, his grip gets stronger.

"Give me that mouth y/n," he hisses lightly, your tongue take the way from the base of his cock towards the tip, sucking as soft as you can, his head move back as his other hand grab the sheets under him. Your lips open enough to take half of his shaft in your mouth, the moans that he's letting out are the best sound that you could ever ask. His grab on your hair get tighter when you start to move your head up and down.

"God, do not stop.." His voice gets high pitch with a whimper, you're sucking his dick so well that his toes curls for the pleasure, he feels that he's gonna explode in your throat. Your eyes start to tear up for the deep throating that your beautiful boyfriend is receiving, the saliva run down to your chin making his view blurry for pleasure. He cum in your mouth, making you moan around his shaft cause the taste it's amazing and you just can't contain yourself from swallowing every drop of it.

Jisung moan even louder as his muscles tense up for the pleasure, your eyes are closing letting the tears for the intense moment that he just felt, his hands stroke your cheeks softly as your head move slightly up from his cock. "you're.. perfect."

[cavalierious-whim]

Pants Down, Dicks Out, and No Regrets (ZhongChi)

Part of 'Etched in Stone'.

Having finally fucked for the first time, Zhongli and Childe can't keep their hands off each other. Too bad they get constantly interrupted. 

This was a sponsored prompt from my spreadsheet. Read here on AO3. You can also, follow me on Twitter, and here on Patreon!

--

Zhongli cannot keep his hands off of him.

Childe is not complaining. Childe is also no different, fully embracing what Katya has affectionally dubbed the ‘honeymoon period’. She knew the moment she saw him post impromptu vacation in Zhongli’s teapot; post confession, and spending days in Zhongli’s sheets, tracing scars and mapping every inch of each other’s bodies. Making love with Zhongli has pulled Childe apart and forged him into a new man.

And therein lies the problem—they can’t keep their hands off of each other.

Zhongli has always been level-headed and the voice of reason. Except for now. Or yesterday. And no doubt tomorrow. 

“Hey, wait—” Childe’s protest melts into a moan as Zhongli reaches down and squeezes his half-hard cock. 

Impossible. Zhongli is so impossible when he’s like this because Childe is unable to say no. He’s needy and desperate for his touch, legs spreading instantly to make room for his hand. 

“Darling,” laughs Zhongli against his ear, warm breath puffing against it. His tongue dips out to trace the shell, and Childe relaxes against the rough stone wall that he’s currently boxed against. 

They came for takeout. Xiangling is typically speedy but backed up on orders, so they are tucked away around the corner. Zhongli pounced the moment they found themselves relatively out of sight in the cover of the alleyway. 

“We—can’t.” They’re in public. Semi-public. Does the side alley count as such? No one is looking or likely to turn in this direction which is the reason Zhongli is so bold. 

Zhongli traces the bulge of Childe’s cock through his trousers from base to tip. “A tease,” says Zhongli, nipping at his jaw with those wicked fangs, dragging them over his oversensitive flesh. 

Childe would let Zhongli fuck him right there. He will. “I need you,” he hisses.

“Say no more,” cuts in Zhongli, his fingers tracing the waistband of his clothing.

Just as the button is undone and Childe feels the heat of Zhongli’s fingertips scraping through his pubic hair, Xiangling careens around the corner with several garbage bags in hand. She pauses. Her gaze drops to where Zhongli’s hand is down Childe’s trousers. He makes no attempt to move it. 

Xiangling’s expression turns sharp. “Oh,” she says with a grin. “Well, would you look at that? Did the two of you finally shack up together? Normally I’d say I didn’t see anything but I do believe this means Lumine owes me some Mora.” She drops the trash by the waste bin in the alley before turning on her heel and making herself scarce.

Childe is mortified. “Stop—stop!” he hisses as Zhongli bursts into laughter, still intent on marking up his neck. Childe yanks at his hair and Zhongli finally relents.

“Apologies,” he says, pressing one last kiss to his throat. He is not remotely sorry. Childe knows he now sports several bruises, claims that are as clear as day. Zhongli brushes his knuckles against his flagging cock before pulling his hand from Childe’s trousers.

He’s sweet enough to refasten them. Childe pinches the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. “A bet? Zhongli, they made a bet?”

“As others often do.” He tips Childe’s face toward his by the chin. His golden eyes are filled with mirth as he tips forward for a proper kiss against his mouth. “Our food is likely ready by now.”

“I don’t—Gods, Zhongli, I can’t look her in the face.”

Childe does, though, taking his walk of shame through Wanmin with a semblance of grace, far too hungry to let their lunch go to waste.

#

This time, they are, at least, in Childe’s apartment. 

Rarely do they come here. Childe prefers the lived-in mess of Zhongli’s flat or the archaic quietness of his teapot. His own home is too neat, too pristine due to old military habits burned into his blood. Childe’s home lacks character because he rarely uses it for anything other than the occasional nap. 

The moment they step through the front door, Childe is on him like a cat on cream. Zhongli’s back hits the door with a thud. He groans as Childe cups his face and kisses him stupid, swallowing his breaths, and shoving his tongue into Zhongli’s mouth. 

“I need you,” whines Childe. He nips at Zhongli’s mouth which only makes the old god purr in delight. “Gods, I need you.”

They make it about three more feet before Childe sinks to his knees, unable to wait. He yanks Zhongli’s trousers open and frees his cock, licking a stripe from the base to the tip. Zhongli’s head slams against the wall. “Ajax,” he cries out, moaning as Childe swallows around the head. His hands sink into his hair, pulling at it, and Childe delights in the way his scalp burns.

Neither of them hears the key in the lock, far too lost in each other. Zhongli’s cock is snug in his throat, Childe’s nose buried in the coarse hair at his groin when the door opens. 

Katya. Childe chokes in surprise, sputtering around Zhongli’s dick as he tries to pull off. 

Everything is slow-motion. Zhongli tries to guide him off, wincing as Childe’s teeth catch the delicate skin of his length. Katya blinks, her eyebrows arched in surprise. In her arms are a stack of folders. Right. She isn’t used to him being there in the early evening and often drops reports off for him to look at later.

“That was… impressive. Sir.”

Childe wishes that the ground would swallow him up entirely. 

Katya brushes past them as if Zhongli’s cock isn’t hanging out of his trousers. She drops the pile of paperwork on the entry table and then shuffles by with one very pointed glance from Childe’s mouth to Zhongli’s dick—which Zhongli doesn’t hide. Zhongli’s hand still rests against his head, thumbing through his bangs. Then Katya smirks, gives them a mock salute, and takes her leave.

The moment the door clicks shut behind her, Childe rests his forehead against Zhongli’s thigh. Embarrassment burns through him, white-hot and not in a pleasurable way.  “I’m revoking her spare key.”

Zhongli laughs, combing through his hair, but Childe refuses to see the humor in what has been an absolute boner killer.

#

Weeks. It’s been weeks since they’ve properly fucked. Childe has all but hit his limit. And Zhongli has too—he can tell. Zhongli is just older, wiser, and better at pretending to be okay. But Childe feels the way his kisses linger and how he holds his elbow in a slightly too-tight grip. 

Even Zhongli’s patience is wearing thin.

Katya pities him. “A vacation,” she says to him before stealing the stack of reports that are half a foot high on his desk. “Three days and two nights. I’ve already filed the paperwork and booked you a room at Wangshu Inn as well.”

Childe stills, his pen hovering over the paper he was about to sign. Oh, bless her. Katya knows—she always knows. He never did revoke her spare key privileges for his home and clearly, that’s worked in his favor. Or she pities him. (Both; it’s definitely both). 

He manages to jot dot a squiggle that resembles his name, then he stands. “Katya,” he says, “I could kiss you.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Please don’t. And really, this is for the good of everyone else. We don’t want a repeat of a few days ago.”

Right. Zhongli came by to drop off lunch and Pantalone paid an exceedingly rare visit to the bank, only to find Childe hoisted against the wall, his trousers around one leg, and both their cocks squeezed tight in Zhongli’s hand. Needless to say, a happy ending did not come. Zhongli was, as he always seems to be, amused but Childe maintains that the resulting report wasn’t worth his dick shriveling into nothing in the heat of the moment. 

“Is he still angry about that?”

“I do believe that the HR report is meant as a tease. If you were to read what Sir Pantalone wrote—”

“Absolutely not.” Because Childe can imagine. 

Katya’s mouth curls into a smile. “Get out of here. I’ll handle the rest of this.” 

Childe doesn’t need to be told twice.

#

“Finally,” says Childe the moment the lock is turned. “Alone. In a room. That is locked.”

Zhongli laughs as they tumble into the bed. “I do like that I can take my time with you this time,” he says into Childe’s ear, nipping at the shell of it.

Childe is too keyed up, too desperate. “Later,” he says, already tugging at Zhongli’s trousers. “It’s been too long since we’ve properly fucked. I need—”

“Darling.” Zhongli hangs over him, his gaze warm and affectionate. “Patience—”

“Is a virtue, yeah, yeah. Do you know what else is? Your dick in my ass.”

Zhongli’s face crinkles. “So needy,” he replies, tugging his shirt from his trousers. 

Childe lies there and watches as he strips, revealing inch-by-inch of flesh. And Zhongli may tease him—but he’s desperate too. His shoulder reveals that the joint bleeds into charcoal. Zhongli is struggling to maintain his form which spells out a night of desperate lovemaking. 

“Com’re,” slurs Childe, already drowning in the heady feel of Geo thick in the air. Zhongli goes so easily, warm against him once their clothing is fully shed. 

They roll around in the sheets like horny teenagers, hands wandering, mouths latched onto each other, suckling. Zhongli is wicked; he bites at Childe’s mouth, his neck, the length of his collarbone. All the way down his front before licking the length of Childe’s cock.

And oh, he must be gone. Zhongli. Geo chokes the space as antlers glitter against his dark hair. Childe pets the length of one, pulling a deep groan from Zhongli’s mouth. Nothing is quick enough; Zhongli’s fingers trace his cock, the seam of his balls, the smooth skin underneath long enough that Childe whines impatiently. 

“Please,” he mutters as a thumb settles against his hole, and Zhongli chuckles as he sucks a mark against the base of his cock. 

“Ajax,” he says, teeth dragging over Childe’s skin, raising gooseflesh, “it’s been too long.”

Yes. Exactly. That’s why Childe needs his fingers now. “Old lizard,” he hisses, waving his hand to coat Zhongli’s fingers in Hydro, hoping that it paints a picture. “Please.”

“How you beg for me,” mutters Zhongli before his tongue traces from the base of Childe’s cock to the tip. “I love to hear it. And I love you.”

“I’m—oh, fuck, that’s—” Childe loses his words as a finger sinks deep into his ass. Zhongli hums as he laps at the tip of his cock, sweeping away the dripping precome for a quick taste. He looks handsome. Childe could die at the sight of him, this god between his legs, licking across the tip of his cock as if part of a feast.

Zhongli crooks his finger, pulling at his insides. A second finger joins the first, spreading his rim wide before sinking all the way to the last knuckles. Childe arches in the bed. He drops his hips, trying to ride his fingers, to force them against that spot that’ll leave him howling. Zhongli knows. He gives him a wicked smirk that should set off alarm bells. 

Childe’s cock is swiftly engulfed in wet-hot heat as Zhongli seals his mouth around his dick. He bobs his head, tongue flat against the underside. Then he pulls off, fingers curling around Childe’s girth for a quick stroke. “I would like for you to fuck my mouth.”

A ridiculous way of asking for such a thing. Too neat, too proper. But Childe loves this insufferable part of Zhongli, so he just nods and tugs his face back to his cock, crying out as it’s swallowed back down. Zhongli is too good at this, his mouth stretched around his dick. 

Childe can’t stop staring. He brushes back his bangs. Zhongli stares back with a liquid gold gaze, his nose pressed against his groin, the tip of Childe’s cock lodged deep. Childe imagines the bulge of it, just below the apple of his throat. 

Zhongli’s nostrils flare. He chokes slightly when Childe rolls his hips gently in an experimental thrust. And then he moans, a debauched sound the bubbles around Childe’s cock before hanging in the air.

Gods. Childe presses deeper. His fingers curl around Zhongli’s antlers which only pulls another moan from deep within Zhongli’s throat as Childe yanks his face into him. Tight, hot heat. Childe melts into the sheets as Zhongli swallows around him. 

It’s been long enough that Childe is annoyingly close to his end. Just at the feel of Zhongli’s mouth and the way that he chokes around him, and his fingers pulling at Childe’s rim. Even Zhongli is nearly gone too, the room glowing with his power. His claws dig into the meat of Childe’s thigh. He moans and moans as his form threatens to chip away. 

“Fuck, Zhongli.” Childe lifts his hips, thrusting deep into Zhongli’s mouth. “Fuck, your mouth. You—you’re—”

The air crackles. Childe fucks Zhongli’s mouth, holding his face there firmly. And Zhongli—Zhongli is eager in the way he swallows him down. He curls his fingers inside Childe, the tips finally sweeping over his prostate. Childe jerks and cries out. Hydro slashes through the room as Childe’s Vision flares, glittering as a Crystalize reaction sparks. 

And then Xiao materializes in the corner, his spear aloft in one hand and ready to pounce. “Master—” 

Everything comes to a standstill. Childe yelps, scrambling for the sheets to cover himself. But Zhongli—Zhongli does nothing, holding his hips firmly against the bed. His gaze flickers over to Xiao and then back to Childe, ignoring the intrusion. 

“Zhongli!”

Xiao gapes, his face beet-red as he shudders with shock. Right. He lives there, doesn’t he? And this room is just below that top level where he often lurks. Zhongli just smiles, amused, and then finally pulls out his fingers. He shifts onto his knees, yanking Childe against him. 

“Are you—”

“Do you want to be interrupted?” Zhongli drags his hand down Childe’s front, making it apparent that he’s more than willing to fuck him in front of Xiao. “Haven’t you been complaining about how long it’s been? Aren’t you needy? Ajax, I am unwilling to let this opportunity slip away when you are so ready and willing.”

Childe’s gaze slips back to the corner of the room to find it blessedly empty. Xiao winked away in their distraction, embarrassed beyond measure. Childe digs his heel against the small of Zhongli’s back. “You could’ve told me he was gone. Gods, I thought—”

“Thought what?” Zhongli leans forward until his hair frames their faces. “That I’d fuck you despite him being there?” Zhongli’s heat is oppressive as he nips at Childe’s jawline. “What better a way to claim you? If they all knew, they’d leave us alone.” Then he laughs, a deep and sultry thing. “But no, darling. Seeing you like this—that is a sight for myself alone. Xiao knows his place.”

Childe swallows thickly. The implication of that churns the pleasure in his gut. He forgets just how Zhongli can be, caught between wanting to parade him around and hiding him for Zhongli alone to see. Zhongli’s teeth drag along the sensitive skin of his throat. He tilts Childe’s hips back and presses the tip of his cock to his needy hole.

Finally. Finally. Childe is so loose and pliant that Zhongli sinks his cock in with one fluid thrust. 

Perfect. So full. Childe arches in the bed, crying out Zhongli’s name. He curses, immediately moving, immediately rolling his hips and trying to fuck against him. It isn’t sweet and soft lovemaking—that can come later after the high and rush of finally coming together in the absence of sex for weeks. 

Zhongli groans and pulls Childe onto his cock, holding onto his hip. His other hand splays against Childe’s belly, palm flat underneath his navel. Feeling. Imagining it—something. “Ajax,” he murmurs, the utterance of his name warm and heady. Childe loves that look on his face, that half-lidded, licentious gaze that feels eons old. Honed in on him, sharp like a blade, cutting through Childe’s soul the same way that Zhongli’s cock carves a home in his insides. 

The wet slap of skin, the feel of Zhongli’s balls slapping against his ass. Zhongli presses Childe’s thighs back and looks, tracing his thumb over his rim where it's stretched around his cock. “Perfect. So, so perfect. Worth the wait.”

It is. Childe yelps as Zhongli nails his prostate. “There, there—”

His cock twitches. It aches, leaking precome all over his stomach in a dribbling trail. Zhongli looks at him like a man starved as he fucks him hard and fast. Childe needed this, to be stuffed full and wrung out, to feel Zhongli’s thick cock in his throat. To be pulled apart by Zhongli’s words and the way that his claws dig into his skin. Later Zhongli will put him back together with those skilled hands when he’s nothing but putty. But for now—this is what Childe wants.

“Zhongli, I’m close. I’m so, so—” The heat in his gut is white-hot. Childe wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it, whining at the overwrought sensation. He’s shaking, desperate for release. Zhongli slows the roll of his hips and leans close, pressing his nose into his nape.

He inhales. Zhongli moans, kissing Childe’s jaw, his tongue snaking out to lap at his sweaty skin. “I love you,” he says as he rocks into Childe, addicted to saying it. “Practice,” he’d said a few weeks back. “I’m merely practicing it.” Only he isn’t, he’s just drunk on the thought of claiming such a thing so openly. Zhongli bats Childe’s hand away and takes hold of his cock instead. “Ajax, please,” he begs, as if he needs to for Childe to finish. 

One stroke of Childe’s cock has him tipping over the edge. He spills into Zhongli’s hand with a cry, thighs tensing around his waist. Zhongli fucks it through him with languid punches of his dick. He traces the tip of Childe’s length with his thumb and then peels his hand back for a taste, making a show of dragging his tongue around his soiled knuckles.

“Another?” he asks, his mouth curled in a wicked grin.

Childe’s throat is so dry that he croaks. “I—no, not now. Not—” Any other time, perhaps. He loves to let Zhongli pull him to the edge over and over until he’s coming dry. But not now. Right now, Childe just wants to cling to him and soak up his warmth. 

Zhongli reads him like a book. His gaze softens and his grip on Childe’s cock loosens, but a relief and a detriment. “Darling boy,” he says. “Okay, I see. Worry not.” He focuses on fucking Childe for his own completion instead, rocking into his ass until Zhongli’s breath catches and he’s spilling searing warmth inside of him. 

All in all, it doesn’t last long. They rut together for a surprisingly short time. But it feels like ages. Childe lies spent in the bed, a rubbery, loose-limbed mess. Zhongli hangs over him and brushes his bangs back before dipping close to kiss his brow.

“Fuck,” says Childe finally. “I—Gods. That better not happen again.”

Zhongli hisses as he pulls out, a soft whine spilling from his lips. He flops to the bed beside Childe, ignoring the mess. “Xiao?” he asks.

“No—” Childe winces. “I mean, yes. And Katya too, but it’ll definitely happen again whether we want it to or not. I just meant going weeks without a proper fuck.”

“Making love—”

“It’s okay to call it fucking, Zhongli.”

Zhongli laughs and pulls him close, burying his face into the pillow next to Childe’s ear. It’s a little awkward. His antlers are in the way because Zhongli hasn’t yet regained his composure. His fingers trace idle patterns against Childe’s side. “Towels,” mutters Zhongli, his voice slightly slurred.

He must be tired. He’s fastidious when it comes to cleaning and Zhongli doesn’t actually need sleep, but he’s already dozing against Childe’s shoulder. Childe hums softly as he pulls the sheets up. “It’s fine.”

“The sheets, Ajax…” But Zhongli’s voice tapers off.

“It’s a hotel. For once, we have no responsibilities here. In fact, we’re on vacation—the both of us.”

Zhongli blinks at him slowly, blearily, his expression lax and exhausted. “We’ll have to thank Miss Ekaterina,” he says softly.

“Yeah, but later. For now rest, and then you can do whatever it is you wanted to do to me earlier.”

That garners a reaction. Zhongli’s eyes wrinkle around the edges, glinting with mirth. “Oh? Do tell me Ajax—what is it you think I wanted to do?”

“Do you not understand the word rest?”

“I do not need rest.”

“But I do. You did a number on me. And, my dick needs to recover from that look of horror Xiao shot in my direction.”

A soft chuckle from Zhongli. “He is unused to seeing me so compromised.”

“Compromised,” repeats Childe slowly.

“When it comes to you? Always. I don’t indulge with others in such sordid ways. Remember the bank? The alleyway? The—”

Childe pushes at Zhongli’s face playfully. “I get it. I make your old bones all horny.”

Zhongli brushes his knuckles over the rise of Childe’s cheek. “As it were, we didn’t intend to not fuck—” Childe bursts into laughter because it sounds absurd coming from his mouth. “—it was merely bad luck. Nonetheless, it worked out.” Zhongli kisses the tip of his nose and Childe all but melts. “And, as promised, I’ll pull you apart later,” continues Zhongli. “Now that the fucking is out of the way, I’ll—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Stop saying it like that.”

They kiss again, all tongues and teeth, and wandering hands as they come down from their highs. Zhongli moans into his mouth. Sweeps a hand down the length of Childe’s leg as he tugs it over his hip, a little awkward because they still lay on their sides. 

“I thought we were resting,” says Zhongli as if he didn’t start this.

“This is resting,” counters Childe.

And it is—it’s soft and sweet and lazy. Zhongli laughs into his mouth, tongue sweeping across his. And that’s what they do until they're wasted in the sheets, too tired for anything more than short pecks against each other’s lips. 

“Worth the wait,” said Zhongli earlier when his cock was settled so deep that Childe saw stars.

Yes, thinks Childe. Worth the wait and more.

But. They have to talk to Katya and Xiao. And Childe is definitely revoking key privileges to his home. 

[buckyownsmylife]

Crash & Burn - Chapter 2

The one where Bucky is your father best friend, and the man you want to take your virginity.

Bucky is losing everything: his wife, his business, his house. And when his best friend is too busy to offer him the support he needs, you offer him your ear and shoulder. He wouldn't find it too bad that getting closer to you made him see you with new eyes, if it wasn't for the one thing you asked in return: you want him to be the first man to ever fuck you.

For general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

Living in Frank’s place was an easier adjustment that I thought it would be.

Even though he was hardly ever around, I was never alone. From the second I got home after a day trying to work through the ridiculous mistake I’d made in my business, Y/N was there to help me get my mind off of anything even remotely serious.

It should be weird to be so happy spending time with someone almost half my age. But the truth of the matter was that it wasn’t. What difference did her age make when we were watching Tim Burton movies or playing charades? Sometimes, we didn’t even talk. She’d just sit next to me, working on her own papers while I typed away on my computer.

I’d never had this sort of company before. It made me feel like I wasn’t actually broken, and suddenly, I wasn’t so sad anymore.

How could I, when she was there for me, every step of the way? There were still things to be fixed, but my marriage wasn’t one of them. Where once my life seemed dull and unexciting, now I woke up everyday with a smile on my face, knowing I had a lot of work to do, but at the end of the day, would get to come home to some sort of home-cooked meal or my favorite take-out.

Sometimes, I’d even walk into the house to find an impromptu show waiting for me.

Well, that was a bit presumptuous of my part. It was clear she didn’t actually know I was there and didn’t expect me to be back so soon. And even though I was obviously invading her privacy, I was glad I left work earlier than I intended. She looked too adorable using the remote as her microphone, moving her hips to the beat of some music I could not identify.

The chuckle left my lips before I could reel it in at the sight of her shaking her hips, and that’s when she froze on her tracks. “Oh my God!” She exclaimed, hands over her mouth upon finding me there, resting against the wall as I watched her eagerly. “I’m so sorry,” she rushed to apologize and turn the volume down. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

Frowning, I was about to reassure her there was nothing she needed to apologize for when I suddenly realized why the shirt she was wearing looked so familiar. Light blue, not even the folded sleeves could hide the fact that it was far too big to be hers - but of course, I knew that already.

I just hadn’t expected it to be my shirt.

My eyes took in every inch of her body hungrily, the surprise overruling any sort of logical thinking left in my brain. She looked good, with her legs all but exposed, the first few buttons of the shirt open to reveal even more of her soft skin for me to take in.

She looked… sexy. It was new.

“New outfit?” I opted to question, forgetting what I’d intended to say originally now that I knew she was wearing something of mine.

For the first time ever, my mind wandered off to dangerous territories, territories I had never once explored when it came to my best friend’s daughter, but before I could allow it to get too far, I shook myself out of it.

“Sorry,” she sheepishly smiled, adjusting the shirt under my heated gaze. “It was the first thing I found when I got out of the shower. I didn’t want to put on anything too restrictive.” I just nodded, eyes remaining on her as I swallowed around a dry throat and tried to understand what the fuck was happening to me.

“No, it’s okay,” I assured her, but it felt as if I was trying to assure myself of it, too. Everything was okay, wasn’t it? I’d just stared. That was all there was to it. There was nothing wrong about staring, and it’s not like I actually desired her.

I just needed to get off. It’d been way too fucking long.

“I don’t mind it. You can wear my clothes.” Clearing my throat, I averted my gaze and tried to focus it on something else in the room, anything. Deciding on the ceiling, I ignored the little chuckle she let out as she made her way towards me.

“Is that a promise?” She questioned, and I almost gasped in surprise when I felt her pull me by my tie. “Can I hold you accountable to it?” I felt my face burn up as her fingers deftly undid the knot around my throat, taking the constrictive item from me. It should have helped me relax - it should have made breathing easier, but as the first breath I drew brought her sweet perfume into my lungs, it only made me tenser.

It was quiet in the living room. I didn’t know what to say, but I wanted to know what she was thinking about as she played with the buttons of the shirt I was still wearing. Did she want this one too? She could have it. I didn’t mind.

“I’ve made you pasta,” she suddenly blurted out, surprising me from my inner monologue. “C’mon, I bet you’re hungry.” Releasing the white fabric, she reached for my fingers, and I let her tangle hers with mine and drag me towards the kitchen, all while I thought to myself - perhaps we shouldn’t be this close.

But I couldn’t get myself to step away.

After dinner, we snuggled on the couch while watching a movie. It was something we did almost every night, so there was nothing out of the ordinary about it - except for the way my heart pumped against my chest like I’d just finished a race, or as if I was about to face a fucking lion or tiger.

She looked up at me from under her eyelashes in the middle of a scene and suddenly… I want to kiss her, the thought materialized just for me to shake it away the second it tried to settle on my brain.

What the hell was going on with me?

“Any plans for Friday night?” I asked, dragging my eyes back to the television, trying to distract myself from her and the weird calling that had never really been there before. She seemed to consider my question for a few seconds before finally answering.

“A friend invited me to a party, but I’m not sure I’m going to go.”

“You should.” The words left my lips before I’d even processed it, and with the way she furrowed her eyebrows, it was clear that she was as confused as I was - but it made sense, once I stopped to consider it. She was young and she had so much to experience, so much she should be doing instead of staying in this house and babysitting me. “You should make an effort to leave the house from time to time. I haven’t seen you go to a single gathering since I moved in.”

She didn’t immediately answer me, and I forced myself not to look at her to check on her expression, see if she’d somehow realized why I was saying what I was saying. Rationally, I knew it was almost impossible, but as my heartbeat struggled to go back to a regular pace the longer we sat next to each other, her sweet perfume making my head swirl with every inhale, it was more of a matter of necessity than anything else, really.

“If you think so…” She pondered, relaxing back against the couch and allowing me to take a deep breath again as she did so. “I might go, then.”

“Good.” I nodded, determined to ignore the pang in my chest at the idea of her spending her Friday night in a loud, busy environment, surrounded by fuckboys who wouldn’t know how to treat her right.

It was the way it should be, though - I reminded myself of it. That’s what she should be experiencing, and as her father’s best friend, I should do my best to push her to create new memories while there was still time for her to do so.

Hell, as her own friend, that’s what I should be doing, too.

But it didn’t stop me from feeling this weird, emptiness deep in my chest, as I realized her finding someone to date at the party could very well mean the end of nights spent like this one - side by side, sharing a blanket, watching a movie together.

Sighing, I reached for the popcorn. Better make the most of it while it lasted.

[myreygn]

tkltober day 13: Sneak Attack

Demon Slayer - ler!Kanao, lee!Tanjiro

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

The leaves didnʼt even rustle when she crouched down in the bushes to examine her target. He wasnʼt expecting anything yet and as long as the wind didnʼt decide to suddenly change direction and carry her scent over to him, sheʼd be fine.

Tanjiro likes you, that was what Shinobu had told her, and Why donʼt you try and get a little closer to him, that was the following question that had kicked off this mission in the first place.

Kanao watched as Tanjiro sat down on the grass to relax. Getting closer to someone was easier said than done, but luckily, she had learned a fool-proof method from Aoi. And given the information she had collected about Tanjiro so far, it would definitely work on him.

Six meters, five, four, three and a half. Her plan was clear; get close enough, then attack from above. Kanao examined the distance. Good.

By the time Tanjiro noticed that there was something coming, she had already jumped and was inches away from tackling him.

“WUAAAH- Kanao!”

She made herself comfortable on top of him and smiled down on him. She had obviously spooked him and they had tumbled a significant distance through the grass, she had to make sure he was alright. “Are you hurt?” And not mad at her. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“No no, I, uh, I’m good.” He looked up at her, his initial shock being replaced by pure confusion. “Uh… what are you doing?”

Right, the mission. Her voice shook ever so slightly when she answered - please, please let this work, please let him still like me after this. “I’m trying something new.”

“What do you meHEAN!” Tanjiro stared up at her with wide eyes, his mouth stretched into a wide smile and the laughter pouring out seemingly not under his control and his arms immediately came up to try and protect himself. “GEAHAHAHAHHH WHAHAHAHAT AHAHAHARE YOHOHOU- AHAHAHAHAH, KAHAHAHANAO!”

Oopsie, coming in a little strong. Kanao moved her scribbling fingers away from his tummy and went searching for a less ticklish spot. Aoi had told her that receiving tickles could become very exhausting very quickly and she didn’t want to power Tanjiro out so quickly, she wanted him to have fun too. Squeezing his sides didn’t seem to feel quite as ticklish to him, so she remained there and looked for any sign of discomfort on his face. Nothing, but checking in wouldn’t hurt. “Is this okay?”

“Whahat? Ihi- I mehehean I guehehehess- ihihihit tihihickles!”

“It’s supposed to.” Kanao felt a sort of relief wash over her. He was not suffering at least, that was good. It would be even better if he was really enjoying himself, which she was determined to achieve. “Please tell me immediately if this isn’t fun for you.”

Tanjiro seemed confused even through his giggles for a second, then her fingers found his ribs and a fresh wave of cackles distracted him enough to make all expressions unreadable. “Aeahahaha, Kahanahahao! Nahahat thehe- GAHAHAHAD, NAHAHAHT THEHE SPAHAHAHACES BETWEAHAHAHA!”

The anxiety flaring up inside Kanao’s chest nearly made her take her hands of, but then Tanjiro looked at her and even though his eyes were glistening, there was a twinkle in them which she had seen plenty of times before, when he was fooling around with his friends, when they served him his favorite food and when Nezuko came out of her box; he was happy. He was having fun. She had done it!

“If you insist.”

The shriek Tanjiro let out when she began to tickle his tummy again had to be loudest Kanao had ever heard him. Bravely, she slipped a single finger into his belly button.

“AIEEEEEE- KAHAHAHANAO, NOHOHOOOO! STAHAHAHAHAP, PLEHEHEHEASE, TOHOO MUHUHUHUCH! I CAHAHAHAHAN’T!” Tanjiro’s hand hit the ground and Kanao immediately stopped tickling him, quickly climbing off of him and handing him some water she had brought after he managed to sit up. She fiddled with her skirt as she watched him recover. The anxious feeling was back and she used the time he needed to catch his breath to muster up the courage to speak.

“Did I overdo it?”

“What?” Tanjiro looked at her. “No, not at all. You stopped when I told you to. You respected my limit, that’s the opposite of overdoing it.”

Kanao let out a sigh in relief. What a rollercoaster of emotions this was.

“Don’t worry about it, we’re good.” He tilted his head. “But why did you do it? That came out of nowhere.”

“Shinobu said you liked me. I want us to be friends and I thought… you always seem to have fun when your other friends do this with you.”

The surprise on Tanjiro’s face quickly melted away, transforming into a smile so warm it made Kanao’s heart dance. He carefully took her hand and squeezed it softly. “We are friends, Kanao. I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to do this with me, thank you. I had a lot of fun.”

“You really did?”

“Yes, I did.” Tanjiro chuckled. “Just give me a warning next time, okay?”

The warmth spreading in Kanao’s chest was a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Okay.”

[peachymilkandcream]

Break Me Slowly|Part 11|Yandere Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: I know this is coming out later than planned but I didn't have a chance to sit down and write until now, but I hope you enjoy the newest chapter!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

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

Levi continued to scribble on his desk. He refused to look at her, refused to acknowledge her. The silence was utterly uncomfortable, making Evelyn shift from foot to foot. She wanted to defend herself, find something to fill the silence and relieve the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. Right as she opened her lips to speak he spoke instead, making her jump slightly.

"After all I've done for you..given you a home, food, clothes, affection...you would try to dump me like I'm some kind of trash."

She was determined not to speak, although she had no doubt even from here he could see her lip trembling.

He stands in one motion. "Am I that much of a monster? You're so desperate to escape, I think I have every right to be upset."

Evelyn stares up at him, biting her lip so he couldn't see how terrified she was.

He pauses before backhanding her across the face. "Speak damn you! Why do you do this!? You disobey me again, and again! And then when you face the consequences you shut your mouth and cower, shaking like a leaf! Did you really think Erwin was on your side?" He scoffs. "Who do you think offered to help sell the lie. Your freedom came at the cheap price of my re-enlistment forms."

"Erwin cares about his soldiers..."

"Does he? He only cares about the greater good of humanity. It comes at whatever cost necessary. Yours, mine, even his lives are all just numbers. Statistics. You don't even want to know all the shit he's had me do in order to keep us on track. You're nobody, to anyone. Erwin, Hange, Eren, The Scouts, even that sad-eyed Braun. If any of them gave a damn about you they'd come save you. Don't you get it? No one cares about you, no one loves you." He pauses, taking a moment to run his hand through her hair. "Except me. I care about you...I love you...more than my own life. I would die for you, I would kill for you. You are my everything. You are the spring to my winter."

"If you really loved me you'd let me go, you wouldn't hurt me-"

"That's for your own good love..." He moves his head closer, kissing her neck gently. "I know you're unhappy, being a wife and mother is fulfilling, if you'd just be willing then think about the wonderful life you could have. Just submit already, submit to me.."

Evelyn couldn't stop herself, she turned her head to the side, letting have more access. She didn't want to be in pain. He had cause to beat her within an inch of her life, if just being willing for once would spare her the pain it couldn't be so bad. Just this once, one time pain free. She was just too tired to fight right now, even though she knew she should.

Levi took her slight movement as willingness, trying his best to keep his rush of arousal in check. He had only ever had her forcefully, while part of him enjoyed the fight, he truly just wanted her to submit to him. Sex without struggle was so much more arousing.

Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, hastily undoing them and exposing his chiselled chest. Something in her just wanted to see if he really was more gentle when she gave in. Or if it was a lie to trick her into thinking the way he wanted her to. He would violate her either way, curiosity and a hint of desperation fuelled her to accept his embraces, accept his lips and tongue attacking her neck. Part of her liked being marked, it meant she was needed, wanted. Someone cared. Levi was a liar, but in this he had made a point, if her apparent friends did care about her, where were they? She only half remembered those words Reiner had said to her, begging her to come with him to a far off land, but he had never returned. He was probably finding a way whisk her away too and do the same thing Levi had done. They were all the same.

Levi pried off her clothes, he was so hungry, so desperate for her. He didn't want to waste a second and have her return to her stubborn ways of fighting him off. He loved her like this, needed her like this, he'd do anything to have it. Drug her, make her drunk out of her mind, give her those aphrodisiacs Petra had suggested, as odd as that was. It didn't matter to him, he just wanted to ride this high for as long as he could.

Against his normal instincts he was gentle, laying her down on his desk and using his discarded shirt to cradle her head. If she was willingly spreading her legs for him, he would uphold his part of the deal and be gentle. Even though everything in him screamed to shove every inch inside her without mercy. He was slow, took his time and let her feel every vein as he sheathed himself inside her.

"See what happens when you behave?" His voice was tender and loving as he started to move, slow and caring, actually giving her time to adjust and take in his length.

She didn't push him away, holding onto his arms to stabilize herself, her breathy moans coming freely and not forced from her clenched teeth. "Faster- please-" Her voice was little more than a whisper, but he heard it. Picking up the pace.

For once in their whole marriage this time it was about her, it was about him rubbing soft circles in her clit making her twitch, and gently flicking her nipple with his tongue. To him it was vanilla and almost boring, but the way it made her come undone so quickly made him not regret it in the least.

Normally she violently fought him off to avoid him finishing inside, begging and pleading with him to cum anywhere else. But this time she pulled him in with her legs, welcomed the hot liquid shooting deep inside her.

In the aftermath Evelyn hated herself for it, hated that she enjoyed it and so much. However she stopped beating herself up when she realized what this would mean, if she could just play along then Levi might let his guard down enough she could really leave. Escape at this point was useless, he could find her and he had allies she didn't even know about. If she pretended to be his housewife eventually he'd allow her more freedom until it was too much and she slipped past him. The moral side of her felt guilty for playing with someone's feelings, but after all he'd done to her morality wasn't something she could worry about right now.

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

Levi was surprised by the sudden and drastic change in Evelyn, she allowed him to do whatever he wanted. She'd spread her legs for him and would act just like a normal wife should. It was suspicious for sure, but with his continued careful watch of her he would just reap the benefits of her change in attitude.

With her change in attitude came her freedom, he brought her out of the house more, allowing her to talk to and interact with others. She seemed to enjoy it, liking the interaction with anyone but him. When they walked through the street, she introduced him as "Her Husband", making his heart swell with pride and joy.

He proudly told Erwin of his feats in taming her, earning slight nods, merely listening in relative silence. When Levi finally finishes his rant, Erwin breaks his silence.

"She's not pregnant is she."

Levi hesitates, trying to get a read on Erwin's intentions. "No, she's not."

"A failure on your part of course."

"If that's how you see it."

"It is." Erwin rearranges things on his desk. "Which brings me to my point." He laces his fingers and rests his elbows on the wood surface, staring Levi down. "It's been some time since Eren has gone missing, so long that now the government is breathing down my neck."

"And what do your problems have to do with me?"

"We've confirmed Eren's somewhere in Marley correct? Your wife was good friends with him when he was still a scout, I want her to bring him back."

Levi scoffs. "Why not just send one of those brats like Mikasa or Armin? They're arguably closer."

"True, but not as mature, plus, my plan is to send her undercover. Posing as a Marleyian soldier."

"And when she gets caught? You just want her to get killed?" He couldn't hide the aggression in his voice.

"Of course not." Erwin pauses again, as if choosing his words carefully. "Your wife also made a connection with the traitor Reiner Braun, if she's caught, she'll have a sympathizer who might spare her life."

Levi stands abruptly. "Like hell I'll allow that." He quickly turns to leave.

"I'm afraid your alternative isn't much better."

He stops and turns. "And that is?"

"I'll expose you publicly for what you've done."

"Tch. And lose your prize Scout? I know a bluff when I hear one."

"At this point Levi, Eren is more useful than even you. If he can trigger even a small scale Rumbling to crush our enemies I won't have need for you ever again."

Levi grits his teeth. "Blackmailing me Erwin, I'm impressed. Didn't know you had the guts." He turns on his heel and rips the door open.

"Is that a deal then?"

"It's a deal alright you bastard." Levi leaves the room, slamming the door so hard behind him books rattle and fall off their shelves.

Erwin finally lets his smirk show itself on his face. "How do you like a taste of your own medicine Levi?"

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (04x07)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 4 Episode 07: My Ride or Die

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of the housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: that there is no fluff content...just an ominous sound of some mystery

Word Count: I know it’s a small chapter but I wanted to wish @tarithenurse a happy birthday and thought of putting this up as a birthday gift? I hope you like it Tari. I love you!

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The camera recorded the silence looming in the private jet with all the Avengers present in that small space. One could hear the clinking of ice with the glass that Ned held in his hand with his pinky out. Half of them slept; Pepper and Tony enjoying a cat nap while holding hands, Bucky snoring in his seat at the back, Wanda dozing off on Vision's shoulder, Bruce murmuring something in his sleep while Natasha softly patted his head with what one would dare say was a hint of a soft smile. Scott and Pietro were out cold, never even budging when the jet hit a little ten-second turbulence. Clint slept like a 'dad'. Arms crossed, head bobbing in and out of sleep, popping his eyes open at any foreign sound.

The other half were busy in their own world. Peter and Ned were sipping their ice water with their headphones on, binging the latest episodes of One Piece. Vision watched Cocomelon. Natasha put on a crime documentary. Steve kept looking out of the window and clicking pictures of whichever cloud he fancied. Sam was lost in his copy of They All Fall Down by Rachel Howzell Hall.  And you. You were reading something on your phone. The null expression on your face was not giving away anything. Nada. Zilch. Loki sat next to you, finally getting to adjust his legs, sliding down in his seat and letting out a big sigh before closing his eyes. The camera seemed to settle just there, with you and Loki in the frame, as if waiting for something. You would wriggle your nose, take a deep breath in between and adjust yourself in your seat, scratch an itch on your arm or neck, but you never looked up from your phone. The camera panned in a little. Loki's arm, supporting his chin, went limp and fell in his lap. His head kept shifting to his right to fall on your shoulder eventually. Your body jerked just the slightest. You looked away from your phone and into the camera lens with eyes a bit surprised. You did not move even an inch, frozen in that position in your seat, your face looking like it was trying its best not to scream. Or cry.

Half Hour Later- On the Airport A shriek of 'Oh My Fu****g God!' came out of the ladies' washroom and a minute later you walked out from that direction, refreshed. Your legs did seem a little wobbly though.  The camera pans out and zooms in on a very shaken Steve standing in the back with a hint of worry.

The SUVs all had their dashboard cameras recording the avengers getting in. The vehicle you were in had Scott, Loki, Peter and Sam- who was still buried in his book. All three cars left the airport for a scenic view back home. Your face was stuck on the window, smiling at something only you knew.  "Oh-" your eyes caught something outside, "a big wheel!" Everyone turned in the direction you were looking. "Must be a local fair," Ned chimed in, looking at the big wheel and balloons floating in the air. You hummed. "I've never been to one of those." Without wasting a second, Scott leaned forward and switched a button. "Hey, Tony. Y/N says she's never been to a local fair."  A screech of tires came from the front before the cars in front started to turn towards the fairgrounds.  "Everybody go stretch their legs. We'll leave in about an hour or so." Tony had not finished talking when the camera caught Scott running past him. "I call dibs on the bumper car driver seat!!" he yelled, still running straight for the gate. You, Peter, Ned, Bucky, Pietro and Wanda looked at each other for barely a second before dashing in Scott's direction, giggling and screaming. The camera focused back on Tony, who was disappointed but not surprised.  "Oh, come on! That's not fair!!!" the camera could hear Scott yell in the background.  Tony looked straight at the camera while Natasha joined him. "Tony, I don't think they know they have to buy tickets."

Inside the Fair Grounds The grounds were relatively quiet, giving the people present there a sight to remember- the avengers walking about casually, wondering which game to play first.  You squealed, running towards a stall with toy guns kept on the counter and three sections made at the back. One with balloons, the other made of moving animated targets and the last one a pinwheel with a bunch of heroes and villains painted on them. "I want to try this one," you stated excitedly, taking the toy rifle in your palms. "What do I win and how do I win it?" The camera saw Loki and Clint follow you towards the stall, standing behind you as the man at the counter explained you'll win a stuffed animal for making seven shots out of ten. You nodded with sheer thrill before tilting your head a little. "And how do I shoot from this?"  The camera saw Clint breathe in to start with his in-built instruction manual to help teach you a thing or two about guns.  "Aw, let me teach you, babygirl." A voice came from next to you, beating Clint to it. A well-built white boy with a snarky smile showing unsettlingly white teeth took a step towards you and grabbed the rifle from your hands. "Just know that you're learning from the best marksman here," he chuckled and moved closer to you. You looked in confusion towards Clint, mouthing 'best marksman?'. Before he could plant himself behind you, the camera caught Loki grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you away from the boy and towards himself, letting Clint gladly take your place. "Come," Clint declared with a smile, wrapping his hands around the rifle and never looking away from that boy's stunned face, "I'll be your baby girl."

The Roller Coaster "I'll pay you seven dollars to whoever rides this coaster with me," Ned declared at the entry gate of the ride. Scott high-fived him and walked in with Bucky right behind him. Sam followed, the book still in his hand as he seated himself in between the two.  "I'll take it!" you announced. "Woah!" Peter tried to stop you. "I thought you suffered from nausea whenever you got on one of these." You nodded and smiled. "But I need seven dollars to visit the ghost house and buy a laser pointer." Peter blinked and stared at you with disbelief before looking at the camera. 

Peter: You are the daughter of a Billionaire, Y/N!! *raises his hands in disbelief* The camera pans out to show you standing right behind him. Y/N: *whispers close to Peter's ear* Tell that to my traumatised childhood  *Peter lets out a shrill scream before jumping away from you*

Four Hours Later Your cackle filled the Facility grounds as everyone walked through the concrete path to get to the building. "Yeah, I think Bucky enjoyed the Pendulum the most," Natasha declared. The camera cut to the footage of Bucky screaming in the pendulum, calling out for Steve as the teens sitting next to him looked at him in awkward silence. Everyone burst out laughing. "No-" Clint tried to complete his sentence through chuckles- "but he got nothing on Scott in the haunted house." Another footage plays of Scott jumping into Vision's arms when the Nun from the Conjuring franchise jumps out at him. The ant-man proceeds to cry for a few seconds. "Should we go back, Scott?" Vision asks. "No," Scott wails, "keep walking. I want that candy at the end of this house." The guffaws and giggles echoed through the night sky. Javier's camera noticed you pressing an inevitable smile as you looked at the God walk at the very back of the pack, smiling with the others. "Now, now, Natasha. That does not mean we'll forget you almost burned down the Chilli Station," Loki purred and everyone else howled. Wanda nodded and high-fived Loki for reminding everyone of that incident.  The camera caught your smile again.

You: How was today? *tilt your head* *smirk* Surprising. The footage of Loki falling asleep on your shoulder plays. Thrilling too, I'd say...

The frame cuts to Loki sitting next to you on the roller coaster and letting out curses the moment your ride reached the top of the track. "You okay?" you ask him in a whisper.  He is breathless at this point. "Loki?" You put your hand on his knee, jerking him out of a trance. "Huh? Yeah. I'm fine. It's just that I forgot how much I despise heights and...and falling down." Without giving it much thought, you shook his sweaty hand away from the support in front of him and wrapped your fingers around his. "Hey...I'm here with you. If at any point you feel like it's not going well just teleport your way to the ground. Easy as-" "And leave you in this death machine alone? I'd rather die," the God objected in a single breath, stopping yours for a moment there.  The rest of the ride seemed to go in slow motion as everyone screamed and cried around you, as Loki cursed the Norns and the Midgardians; and you just looked at the face of the entity who made sure to rest a hand at your end of the cart to prevent you from falling off (if that ever were to happen).

And...um...it was beautiful too *you licked your lips*

Javier's camera saw you waste fifty dollars on the rifle game to finally win the biggest plushie on that counter- Ice Bear from Bare Bears- and sneak to the back of the stalls and text someone.  A few seconds later, Loki came to your spot, only to be handed the Ice Bear to him. "Hug him, you'll feel better," you advised, pushing the plush into his arms before running away to join Wanda for a ring toss game. Loki stood there, perplexed.

The frame came back to you sitting in the recording room trying to hold back moisture in your eyes by smiling and cursing a bit. You: *rubbing your face with your hands* I can't hold it in, Javi. I have got too much love bubbling inside me now. *inhale* *lock eyes with the camera* I'm...I'm gonna confess my feelings to him, Javier. A sound comes from behind the camera. The lens captures your expression going from a tender lovestruck fool to a concerned friend. "What's wrong?" you seemed to be looking behind the camera in Javier's direction, tilting your head to get a better look at him. A sniff can be heard now. You are slowly getting up from your seat, brows furrowed with concern. "Javi, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Late Night Snores of tired Avengers could be heard from the dorms to the Lounge. Friday's lounge clock tick sweetly on the wall while one single camera sat on the kitchenette island and recorded Sam sitting on the sofa turning to the last page of the book. His bloodshot eyes bore into the final page, reading the lines over and over again till he seemed to absorb whatever emotions they were meant to tickle in him. Closing the book, he gently kept it on the coffee table and brought his palms to his lips, sitting there like that for the next three minutes before finally letting out a crackled, "Holy f*****g shit!"

[fandomworldofdreams]

Hospital For Souls

"And then I found out how hard it is to really change. Even hell can get comfy once you've settled in. I just wanted the numb inside of me to leave. No matter how fucked you get It's always there when you come back down."

-Bring Me The Horizon

Summary: Valeria was self-destructive. That was all she had known, so when she tries to end it all and ends up in Arkham she realizes her life has taken a turn for the worse. Dealing with new companions and doctors with unconventional methods is her new norm. Dr. Hannibal Lecter wants to help her fight the darkness, while Dr. Jonathan Crane wants her to embrace it.

Warnings: Discussion of suicide

Prologue

The world was dark and silent.

There was no bright light, no paradise or screaming inferno, just peace.

Until the sound of voices disturbed it all.

"She missed the ulnar artery by half an inch on her right arm. We were able to stitch up both, though she did lose a lot of blood. The only saving grace was that she wasn't in water so blood clots formed and slowed the bleeding." It was a light and airy female voice, which seemed humorous considering the words she spoke.

"When do you think she will be ready for transportation?" A monotone male voice asked.

"I want to keep her overnight, keep an eye on the stitches and bandages. So tomorrow she should be discharged."

"Has any family been contacted?"

"Her father was her emergency contact, but we have been unable to get a hold of him."

"Alright, thank you, Dr. Johnson."

"Of course, Dr. Crane."

Then the void again, a vast span of nothing, somehow the silence was deafening. It could drive anyone to the brink of insanity.

Beep!

Her whole body lurched forward, heart racing, eyes frantically taking in the hospital room. In the hallway a nurse noticed her awake and ran off. There was a security guard outside her door reading a magazine.

Valeria tried to steady her breathing while she became aware of her body. Her wrists stung and ached, they were wrapped in a clean white gauze and her eyes moved to the IV.

"You're awake." Velaris looked up at the woman in white.

"My name is Dr. Johnson. Can you tell me your name and date of birth?"

Valeria licked her lips, mouth feeling dry.

"Valeria Gray, 1987."

"What year is it now?"

"2008."

"Good, I'm just going to check your vitals. How are you feeling?" Dr. Johnson had hazelnut skin and a smile that seemed to warm the room. Valeria allowed her eyes to focus on a spot on her forehead.

Green with hints of faded yellow and bright turquoise outlined her. Valeria smiled softly.

"How long have I been here?"

"13 hours, it's currently 5am." Dr. Johnson placed the stethoscope on Valeria's chest and instructed her to take a deep breath

"Do you remember what happened?" Dr. Johnson asked softly

"I tried to kill myself." The words were void of emotion, even as Valeria said them she didn't taste the meaning.

She thought Johnson would ask why she did it, but instead she placed a hand on her shoulder.

"is there anyone else we can call for you? Your father hasn't been answering our calls." Valeria shook her head.

"No." It was a lie, there were a couple people who would probably pick up the phone and come, but she didn't want to burden anyone with the responsibility of trying to mend her.

"Well you have been placed under a 72-hr hold at Arkham. They will be here to get you sometime today."

"Okay."

"There is a guard outside the door and a nurse will come in every hour to check on you. If you need assistance, just press this button."

Dr. Johnson left Valeria to stare at the wall, deep in thought.

She had failed. She wasn't sure what to make of it, all her emotions blurred. Failure, anger, sadness, and a hint of relief.

She leaned her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. She could handle three days away from life.

When they came to collect her she would greet them as she did death, like an old friend.

[rainbows-fanfics]

Help Unwanted (Chapter 9)

Summary: After losing the Pirate, Deacon is unwillingly paired with a partner to help with his job. The only problem is - they can't stand each other, and time is dwindling until he can re-capture all his lost prisoners.

Human AU of the Armada from Pirate101.

Pairings: Deacon/Queen!Deacon, Deacon/OC

--

Tap! Tap!

Dea's eyes flew open and flinched when she saw movement happening inches away from her face. It took her a few seconds to process where she was. The motion happened again and she caught the golden blur of Deacon's cane. He was tapping it against the nightstand to wake her up.

"Ugh…" She groaned, digging her head back into the sheets.

She felt the mask press against her face. She was sweaty and her hair became tangled in knots under the cloth still attached around her head. Had she slept with her dress on, too? Did she even bother removing her boots last night? She looked at her clothes with a hidden grimace before a masculine voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Good morning, princess.”

That was Deacon's voice. But when she looked up, it was not him she recognized. 

The man standing before her wore a different ensemble - a black hat with a pinched front, and under that remained his bauta mask, except a bandana was loosely wrapped around the lower half of it. He wore a dark trench coat, buttoned on his chest and separated at his stomach, revealing a tight vest. A belt wrapped around his waist with a holster for his gun. His usual cape was missing from his shoulders, which threw her off the most. 

Without it, she was able to see his frame more clearly. His layers of jackets concealed how thin he actually was. His clothes fit so snug on his body that she wondered if he had any fat at all. Her eyes curiously trailed Deacon's stature as he stood straight. He lowered his cane to clutch it with both hands. He discarded his gloves for a pair of black leather ones. Her attention was drawn to them instantly. 

"It's time to get moving." He told her. 

This did not snap Dea out of her ogling. She was only brought back to reality when he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Deacon was no doubt waiting to hear an explanation for her staring, so she blurted out: 

"You're skinny."

She regretted saying that. His eyes subconsciously flicked down to his body. He lowered his arms to keep them to his sides. She wanted to apologize. But he spoke before she could even open her mouth. 

"How are you feeling?"

She finally sat up and rubbed her temple behind her mask. She could faintly remember what happened, but some details were still unclear. She recalled Deacon carrying her up the stairs but that was the last thing she could picture before passing out. She sagged her body and let out a defeated sigh. 

" Please tell me I didn't do anything stupid last night…"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. You made a friend at the bar."

"...Not one I got too close with..?”

He laughed. “Not on my watch. Have you forgotten we’re sharing the same room?” 

She wanted to banter some more, but a sharp ache came to her head and her hand shot up to clutch it. She regretted drinking so much last night. She wasn’t hungover, but she felt terribly dehydrated. She needed to brush her teeth and take a shower. Her dress would need a proper wash soon as well…

His voice was quiet. “Do you remember anything?” 

“I think you rudely threw me on the bed and then I ate a lot of meat.” She placed her palm over her stomach, hoping she wouldn’t come to regret that. “Why? Did something happen?”

His silence stretched out too long for her liking. “...No.” He knew she was going to pry, so he tapped the nightstand again and pointed to the bag placed beside her. “You’ll want to change into your disguise, now.” 

She took a quick glance at it before standing and stretching. “Give me a bit to shower, then I’ll do whatever you want.” 

“Bene. I’ll get us some coffee.” 

Dea was troubled as she stepped into the shower. She felt guilty for getting tipsy last night, and on top of that , something happened that Deacon didn’t wish to disclose. Did she make a fool of herself? Had she sung drunkenly at the bar in front of everybody? Is that why he had to carry her away? She narrowed her eyes in thought as she spread the soap on her body. A frown settled on her pink lips.

There was something else bothering her, too. 

She’d be lying if she said his disguise wasn’t convincing. It looked like a bandit had single-handedly made his way into their room and was ready to send a bullet through her skull. She was thankful Deacon woke her up the way he did. But that wasn’t what bothered her about his appearance - rather, that she found it attractive. 

She used to watch westerns with her sisters growing up. They were popular pictures in Monquista. She used to fantasize about the cowboys, imagining herself getting swept away by them. They were silly daydreams back when she couldn’t sensibly comprehend the danger. But her attraction remained, and the man she was assigned to work with unknowingly met the imaginary checklist she’d made for her idealized cowboy boyfriend. 

…And she called him ‘skinny’! She wanted to slap herself in the face. 

She reminded her conscience about the man behind the costume. This was the same guy who read novels when they sailed and took his coffee black. He was the most boring person she’d met to date. Sure, she learned a few interesting things about him…he was musically inclined and was fluent in different languages. He had an interesting trick where he could summon his pistol from thin air, and he could gracefully twirl it in-between his gloved fingers. He also had lovely handwriting and his cape looked mesmerizing when it caught the wind a certain way-

…Hold on..!

Dea stopped lathering herself as her eyes grew wide. Her heart beat intensely and her breathing became unsteady. She willingly emptied her mind, focusing on cleaning herself as best as she could. She was thankful to get the grease out of her hair and properly clean her skin. It felt strange not applying makeup anymore…there was no need to, since her appearance was hidden, and it would get smeared anyway. She sometimes had to stop herself from the habit.

She stepped out and dried herself with a towel, taking the briefest glance into the mirror to spot the faint blush on her cheeks. 

----

Deacon obtained the coffee and added the amount of sugar and cream he knew Dea liked. He carried it back to the saloon. On his way, he couldn’t help peering down at his disguise and felt an uncomfortable twinge in his chest. It was habitual for him to wear several layers. It kept him warm for his trips to colder regions, like Polaris, and offered many pockets for him to keep various things in. Above all - he liked covering himself. He felt bare to be in anything less. 

Dea had a point, though. He was…terribly thin. 

Being overseas all the time meant that he didn’t have a nutritious diet. He never ate that much, since he was busy working, and rarely spared an evening to have a good supper. He mostly ate on-the-go snacks so he wouldn’t have a growling stomach giving himself away. MRE meals were the most he would consume. But that wasn’t saying much. 

He was happy that his mission with Dea enabled him to eat a little more properly. She wasn’t as content with snacks and wished to have at least one meal every day. This was more than he was accustomed to. But since he moved so much, he burned the calories quickly and didn’t gain any weight. He wasn’t as unhealthy as Bishop was, who starved himself for days when he was engrossed in his experiments, but he must have been thin enough to gain Dea’s attention. 

He felt self-conscious. He questioned why . 

It wasn’t like he held her opinion in any high regard - she’d teased him about his shoes and hat before, which didn't phase him. If anything, he should be flattered, since her entire uniform was solely based on his . And she couldn’t see his face to judge any of his features. But her first comment on his body was what evoked a reaction out of him. He fumbled to articulate why. 

Was he trying to impress her? He didn’t have bodily mass like Rooke did. He’d be the least athletic out of the Elites if it weren’t for Bishop. Deacon chased his convicts down - he didn’t completely lack strength or agility. But he was about as average as any man was. He was unimpressive on the eyes. He knew this. It’s partly why he dressed the way he did. But now he was realizing it was far from stately to gain a woman’s attention.

Deacon forced himself back to the present when he found two swinging doors in front of him. He strode through and climbed the stairs to their room above. 

---

Dea bit her tongue as she struggled to tie the corset around her body. She swore under her breath as she twisted her fingers around. She wished this room had more than one mirror. Why did she even have to wear this with her disguise!? She had no prior experience with these, despite how much her family pressured her to. She wished she had paid more attention when her mother tied her sister's corsets. 

She kept her original mask and zendale with the outfit, but had to wear a red underlayer and corset. She wore longer black boots that stopped below her knees. A modest skirt of similar color came down to her lower thighs, accompanied with a pair of fishnets. Her gloves covered her forearms and she was provided with a small holster for her own pistol. The arrangement was finished with a fancy hat attached with large feathers, and a small coat that would cover her arms. 

The door opened in the midst of her frustration and her head snapped in its direction. Deacon came in carrying two cups. He paused when he saw her posed uncomfortably in front of the mirror. It didn't take long to piece two-and-two together.

"Having trouble?" He teased. She glared at him. 

"Were *you* the one who asked for this!?"

He shook his head innocently, setting their drinks down. "Queen insisted on the corset. I had no say in the matter."

'She's testing me!' Dea thought helplessly as she reached behind her again. Deacon watched her in the reflection. She struggled for a minute or two before he offered his assistance. "Do you need help?" 

She released her grip in surprise. "You know how to do this?"

He nodded. He stepped forward and gripped the string from behind. She couldn't see what he was doing, but watched his arms move along with his eyes. She felt his fingertips ghost along her back and she involuntarily shivered. They’d never shared actual physical contact like this before. His touch was…a little intense. The leather texture from his gloves weren’t helping. She nearly arched herself away from him before she stopped herself, realizing that it might give her away if she reacted at all. 

The corset was secured around her figure as Deacon stepped back. It was close-fitting, but not overbearingly so. She could still breathe and move freely in it, which was what they wanted if they were to partake in some action today. She moved closer to the mirror and turned around to admire his work.

Her partner, however, was a little preoccupied with the sight now laid before him. Dea’s hourglass figure was more prominent with a tight corset wrapped around it. His eyes came down curiously to her skirt, boot, and fishnet combination. He didn’t exactly know what Queen had gone for with the getup; all he told her was that she needed a disguise to blend in with him in Cool Ranch. Whatever it was…it was surely going to distract a few of their enemies, if they looked in the right places. 

Dea repeated something, and he tore his gaze away from her body. She looked a tad aggravated with him. “-Sorry?” 

“I said ‘thank you’. Where exactly did you learn to tie a lady’s corset?” 

He cleared his throat and adopted a more professional stance. “Queen was the one who taught me. She has the mindset that every gentleman should know how to do it.” 

She snickered. “You? A gentleman? Could’ve fooled me.” 

“You’d be surprised how chivalrous I can be, to ladies who deserve it. Now, come on. We need to get going.” 

She rolled her eyes before picking up her gun and coffee, making sure she had everything for their mission. They departed from the saloon in the direction of the docks. When they arrived, Dea noticed The Executioner was nowhere in sight. Instead, Deacon led them to a frigate completely different in appearance. There were no clockwork emblems anywhere on it, leaving no hint to their affiliation with the Armada. He likely picked it up from a vendor nearby. She recognized the crew’s voices as they greeted them - who had changed to blend in with the locals.

She was impressed by his attention to detail. “An undercover ship? Why didn’t I think of that?” 

“--Which is why you didn’t plan this operation.” 

He ignored her offended gesture, leading them onto the ship and preparing to set sail. The wind was a little rough today, so the ride wouldn’t be entirely smooth, but he was confident they could get there in a timely fashion. As soon as all the crew-members were settled and the ship was moving, Deacon decided to get something important out of the way. 

He approached Dea with a serious look in his eyes. “I need you to tell me how experienced you are with fighting.” 

She was a little surprised at the inquiry, but answered truthfully. “I have basic combat and weapon training. I was praised for being particularly good with guns.”

“Are there any weak spots I should know about..?” 

She hung her head for a moment, reflecting on her shortcomings. She hated thinking about this. She wanted to focus on her strengths and prove she was worthy to be in the Armada. But after what happened in Monquista…she understood why he wanted to know. They couldn’t have something like that happening again. 

“I’m not the strongest girl, but I can be pretty quick. Should I know some of your drawbacks, espía ?” 

“I’m not too tough, either, but with some coordination, we should do just fine.” He opened one of his pockets and handed her a pack of bullets, which she accepted. “Since we’re both dependent on our guns, distance is imperative. Be aware and avoid any and all weapons pointed at you. Our main objective is to capture our wanted fugitive - the moment we have them, we leave. I have no interest in arresting other criminals right now.” 

“So, we shoot but don't kill, right?” 

He nodded. “If you can help it.”

Her figure stiffened as she took in the intensity of their mission. They were dealing with raiders, who would undoubtedly be equipped with weapons and thugs. The fighting and shooting would be inevitable. She could only hope they would not be on the receiving end. She took a good look at their crew and felt some hope - they had a dragoon and a battle angel, known upper-fighters of the Armada. Their soldier was intelligent and one of their crew even had extensive medical training. As Deacon informed her of the rest of their game plan, she carried a good feeling that they would be returning with their target without deep repercussions. 

[nookishposts]

A-gain

15 days ago we brought home a set of day old chicks, Red Sexlink, which have proven wonderfully good layers and easy to care for . At a day old, each about the size of my thumb, a baker's dozen of surprisingly shrill peepers came in cardboard box too small to hold a pair of shoes. They only half-filled it. We set them up a table-top condo and dipped their beaks to get them drinking. When they are hatching they absorb the stuff in the egg through their belly buttons, giving them enough nutrition to get through a day or two, then they are at totally at our mercy, and quite fragile. Cold and dehydration are the biggest threats. We watch carefully for splayed legs or pasty vents , but they all look like healthy little peepers.

These girls are our 3 set of chicks, the first 6 were ready-to-lay at 17 weeks, quite happy until a mink intervened on their first Christmas Day. The following Spring we got our first dozen day olds and all of the fun of watching them wake up to the world. At that age they must be kept at 95-100 degrees fahrenheit for the first week, reducing the temps by 5 degrees each week thereafter until they are developed enough to cope with the same temps that we do. This means that as it's April, we have had 13 demanding little divas living in a succession of cardboard boxes on our kitchen table, with the heat lamp strung from the ceiling fixture and some mesh across the top to discourage our curious cat. Our older hens, having pretty much stopped laying at age 3 or so, have been free-ranging themselves silly on our property, enjoying a smorgasbord feast of bugs, seeds, and sprouts, including my Lilies of the Valley. There are only 5 of the big girls left, due to mostly natural processes and the occasional intervention having taken 7 already. We think it's a happy and well-earned retirement for the survivors. They have pretty much flown the coop. Which means, I need to Spring clean it for the new tenants. Who, if I may admit, have worn out their welcome after 2 weeks of messy, smelly, gawky, mouthy, pre-teen behaviour. Good thing they are still cute, although that too is changing what with fluff sprung like dandelions and new deep red pin feathers appearing in strategic places.

The coop is kept tidy and healthy throughout the year, but the big clean comes after 6 months or so of Winter layering....all of the things that come from a chicken's body, mixed with about 8 inches of accumulated wood chips that absorb the worst and keep them warm. It takes me about 4 hours, with a wheelbarrow, a snow shovel, an ice scraper, and a broom to get down to the concrete floor....filling the barrow about 7 times and running it all to next years compost pile. I insulate the walls with moving blankets over the Winter and this time,discovered 4 large mouse nests in the process of removing them. Plus a hole chewed through the bottom of the bin where I keep the mash, so those wee buggers had a good Winter all snug in feathers and down, not to mention well-fed. Off I went to the feed store for fresh bales of shavings and a large galvanized bin with a tight lid.

Saturday mornings at the feed store finds customers all in some form of work duds, picking up whatever it takes to get the current chores accomplished. On a rural property, something always needs to be turned, moved, cleaned, fed, watered, built, deconstructed, or replaced. People greet one another by name with a nod and always a smile. I have a city friend who will only purchase rubber boots from our feed store. Its not a large place, but you can get almost anything there, and we do. But the feeds that they blend are what makes them famous. Most of the time,before I get to the counter, they know what I want and I find it waiting on the loading dock outside. They also order the chicks, so since its been a couple of careful weeks, they're expecting us. Its nice to be a part of the regular crew.

Back home, I have barrowed and scraped and swept, and wiped out the laying boxes, filling them with fresh shavings even though our little ones won't be producing eggs until September. ( I remember our very first one, almost 5 years ago, tiny and perfect and still warm in my hand. What a thrill!) I haul in a couple of inches of sweet smelling shavings and spread them evenly, then bring in the galvanized barrel and fill it with chick mash and a fresh scoop. Waterers and feeders get filled and placed, and the very last thing to do is hang the heat lamp low enough to keep them cozy another couple of weeks, and high enough on a strong chain to avoid causing a fire. Back into the house I go and my Beloved interrupts her knitting seminar long enough to help me lift the sagging cardboard box from the kitchen table, out the sliding door and across the yard into the coop. The little ones, carried like tiny Egyptian Queens are stunned into silence as their world shifts quite literally beneath them. We manoeuver the box into place under the lamp and I slice one side of it away, enlarging their playpen 10 times. They huddle in one corner, blinking, heads tilted and tiny wings tucked as close to their bodies as possible, tufts of fluff floating to the ground, everything suddenly very different. Gone are the cooking smells and the dog rumbles, the conversation of two familiar female voices, the hum of the refrigerator and the beep of the microwave. These are replaced with the sound of the wind, the scrabbling of chipmunks across the roof, and the sweet smell of pine.

I bring in a lawn chair to sit with them a while as they adjust. A few tentative cheeps are all I've heard, each rising with a question mark at the end. Curiosity wins out over confusion and one brave little chick steps to the edge of the box peering around a minute before she steps out. She looks at me, and I murmur soft noises of encouragement. Out she plops, mostly feet-first into a soft landing. Tenatatively she takes a step and then another and before I know it she has stretched her wings to their full length as if to say :" I claim this land in the name of mt sisters!" She smells the water, locates her crumble feed and having satisfied herself that the basics are in place, she begins to explore. A couple of her sisters shortly follow her lead, but the rest hang back, still awaiting their bravery. They comfort one another with soft coos, and I answer as best I can. I leave them to their exploring, knowing that when I check in a couple of hours later, there will be chicken poop on my chair, evidence that all is well and we have begun the cycle successfully once again. In a day or two, I will remove what's left of the cardboard condo and consign it to the fire pit, with their baby box and some groundfall and we'll have the first bonfire of the season.

As I walk back to the house, tired and filthy and satisfied, ready for a hot shower and a cold drink, I pause and look around the yard. The newness is everywhere. Lilac buds are getting fat, day lilies are reaching, the garlic is up about 6 inches, and the grass will need mowing in a couple of weeks, once I've cleaned the Winter tenants from under the hood of the dormant tractor. Its too soon to do much, the Earth still needs a little time, and the critters are tending their babies in the hidden places while the days grow longer and the trees begin to leaf out in a million shades of green. In a few weeks, the garden beds will warm and be ready for the seedlings we nurse in the greenhouse. We won't need jackets, we will default to the barbecue weeknights after work, and lots of porch-sitting will allow the couch to re-inflate the dents left by our Winter backsides. By then the older hens may well be gone, happily surrendered to old age or wetland prey. The coyotes sing us to sleep through open windows and the birds awaken us at dawn. We have the sense to understand that we are part of the cycle, fortunate stewards, temporary in our own way, and best to mostly bear witness to Earth's wisdom.

[darkandstormydolls]

Another new costume: historical this time!

I’ve wanted to get into historical costuming for a long long time, it’s just taken a while to a. figure out the skills and knowledge needed and b. get all of the pieces done (because of course I had to pick a complicated dress from a complicated decade). I’ve technically been working on this outfit since last fall; I made the chemise and corset back in August or September of last year, I don’t exactly remember, for another costume. I know undergarments are pretty much the most important thing for historical costuming, but MY GOODNESS do they take a while. In addition to the ones mentioned above, I also made a bustle, a detachable ruffled overlay, and a petticoat (the bustle overlay is made out of Halloween fabrics with bats and skeletons and things because of the theory of “no one’s gonna see it, so why not make it wildly anachronistic and fun?”)

The dress itself has three parts: a base skirt with three layers of trim (which took and eternity and a half to pleat), and overskirts with all the floofy fabric (there are tapes inside to hold it into those puffs in the front) and the bodice. That one I don’t think took the longest, but it was definitely the most complicated; interlining, boning at the seams, handsewing of bias tape hems at the top and bottom, a million seams, and so much trim, and that’s not even counting the fact that I had to take it apart and resew it after the first attempt. The buttons down the from were supposed to be velvet to match the ribbons, but the velvet was too thick and didn’t fit in the button coverer, so I went with the same fabric as the dress, a plain black cotton (I got a 25 yard bolt of this and must have used around 15 on this dress between all the parts and all the pleated trim).

I did not make it all in a historical way; inner seams are almost all overlocked (I zigzagged around the edges of the bodice fabric and interlining rather than basting them together so that I didn’t have to finish those seams inside of the bodice) . After all, it’s historical costuming, not recreation. I’m not trying to be 100% accurate, I’m trying to make a cute dress.

I also made a chemisette and cuffs to fill in the neckline and to add some visual depth to an otherwise all black dress (I’m planning to make all my historical clothes at least close to my normal clothing style, so that I feel more comfortable in them). The collar ended up a bit bigger than I would have liked, and I think it looks a little puritanical, but oh well. It is what it is. I can always make a new one in the future if it’s still bothering me.

I made this dress to be 1873, right in the middle of the first bustle era (my favorite era of Victorian womenswear).

The hat was an endeavor. I think I cut the pattern wrong, so it ended up way too tall, so I just kind of folded the sides under and now it’s fine. I’m kind of regretting adding the flowers, but they’re hot glued in (the one time I used hot glue on this hat rather than sewing. Of course.) and I don’t really care enough to fuss around with trying to get them off. I guess I can also always wear it without a hat if it keeps bugging me. At least my hair turned out cute!

All in all, I love this costume. It’s cute, I think it’s flattering, it’s fairly comfy (and shockingly easy to move in; the skirts are a bit heavy, but not too much, the corset and boning don’t actually stop my from bending over if I have to, and the bustle folds up quite easily when I need to sit down). I think I could easily see myself wearing this for hours at an event. It’s a smidge long, but that’s not too much of a problem, and the petticoat pokes out a thing bit at the bottom, but that only serves to keep the skirt hem cleaner. The only real issue I came across with this was stairs, but even then, is was mostly only after I had taken off my shoes and the hem was a few inches too long.

I guess this dress is properly victorian goth, rather than just Victorian-inspired like most of my clothes

[hmshermitcraft]

Weekly Theme : Enemies to Lovers

Content Warning : LOTS of mentions of blood, attempted murder and eye injury

(Whoops got busy with school, sorry for disappearing off the face of tumblr for a few weeks)

—

Etho wasn’t surprised. No, not when it was so clear from the start. He had to applaud her for stringing him along for the ride though.

Cleo was a master at her craft. Painting scenes in other’s heads so boldly with the spilt blood of her enemies. Altering perspectives with her recreational skill with armor stands. And obviously her soothing and seething tones of commands to her underlings.

Etho knew showing his admiration towards the zombie could only lead to mayhem.

But he didn’t think that would be an intricate dance of him pulling her up by a fishing hook while she had a sword to his neck.

He’d slash against her rib cage, gashing out ribbons of blood, while she aimed her bow at his eyes, his left eye now bloodshot.

Of course she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him. They were never on the same side. He hoped they were though.

Cleo found the ninja absolutely intolerable. He was sneaky and mischievous and annoying. He’d push each and every compliment button he’d had access to until she melted. A knife to his throat was enough to stop his flattery.

At first she was serious about slashing through the black fabric and cutting off his head. Her hand always a millisecond away from his neck when he’d gone too far.

But then he grew on her. The threats now turned into banter. But she snapped.

She didn’t mean to. The arrow struck his left eye as blood dripped down her dress. He took a chunk of her body, while she took half of his sight.

“I’m— Etho I didn’t mean to snap—“

She inched closer to him, desperately looking for medical supplies in her bag. She couldn’t care less about herself right now. She hurt the sneaky ninja who took her heart.

He sat down on the grassy plain. Blood spilt out of his eye as if they were tears. He was barely conscious.

She let his lay down and took a cloth, “This is going to hurt.” And pulled the arrow away from his eye. She rest the cloth against the wound, letting it soak up all of the blood.

“I’m so sorry.” She cried. Kissing away the salty tears of his other eye.

She pulled out her communicator and called X. Pick up pick up pick up— She messed up so bad.

He came through and immediately sent Cub to their location.

Cub had come only moments later, and did some more procedures to make sure the ninja wasn’t hurt more than he already was.

—

Etho was fine. He couldn’t see through his left eye, but he was fine. He said he deserved it but Cleo rebutted that it was her fault. She still feels guilty.

She was afraid he’d never trust her again, and she’d deserve it. He’d felt the same, the chunk he’d cut into her rib cage wouldn’t heal.

But he couldn’t help loving her. He couldn’t help falling in love with the zombie who would’ve took his head. Considering that, he’s glad that it’s just his eye that she took.

Though he wouldn’t mind if she took his heart too.

- 🎨 anon <3

They end up in a weird impasse. They both forgive the other, they both blame themselves. Neither of them know how to move on. Their stupid sparring had been so fundamental to their relationship that actually talking feels impossible. There's so much unsaid between them.

They're lucky Bdubs exists. He won't take either of their nonsense, the two are obviously into each other! They just need to stop being so awkward about it. And Bdubs will drag Etho by his hood until he finally talks to Cleo.

It's not easy to repair their relationship. Especially as they both have to learn to cope with their injuries. It turns out, helping each other isn't as hard as hurting each other, though. If Etho's really lucky, Cleo might even teach him some armour stand tips. Just to get him to stick around some more.