#but I��m going with it anyway teehee

[hballegro]

"It's more than something. It's everything."

s8e11 "Life Time"

painted screenshot. cannot give a time estimate, i lost track long ago. still gouache brush, my beloved, with blur tools to fade edges and so on

i have to go to the zoo now and will be making the version with the clock later [i cannot express how long ive been battling with hawkeye's face, gamers]. background went very fast like i said it would lol

version 2 [as in, w/ clock] will probably be done later today, and i will edit this and add it when that happens [and prolly make a separate post too, for celebration purposes, and will link them]. i will also compile progress pics for that post. they are terrifying early on lmao

"A lot of very touching songs came outta that war" previous painting

"It was pink, and perfect, and I tossed it in the scrap bucket" previous painting

everyone say thank you to bj to being a perfect painting subject today he was very polite and he looks about how i wanted unlike SOME PEOPLE

that was me to my sibling last night, and i stayed up til 1:10ish and still didnt finish the final pass over hawkeye's eye. everything else took like 5ish minutes

also everyone say thank you to margaret and nurse kellye for also being perfect and lovely and pleasant to work with

photo used blatantly stolen from this post thank you again @remyfire i owe you my life

update edit;

clock back

[mamawasatesttube]

HI this is a really dumb question but why do you think Lois wouldn't be a wingman to superbat? from what I've seen she's married to Clark and still ships the two of them (also I love the three of them and think they should have a threesome so I might be biased in my interpretation of them)

[satorisoup]

In an arm wrestling fight, who would win? Bokuto or Bakugo? #ask revival 2024

omigoodness dira… this one might be the hardest question to answer i fear T^T both of them are soso strong !! </3

oki so, in terms of physical strength without quirks, this would be a really hard arm wrestling match !! bokuto is very strong, especially as the ace !! he was even giving ushijima a run for his money in that one official art !! :0 but then there’s bakugo, who fights every day and trains extremely hard to be a hero </3

this is making my heart break, but i think i might have to go with bakugo for this one !! he’s not only strong with his quirk, but his strength stems from multiple different places !! he definitely wouldn’t give up, he’s constantly using his arms every day to train, and you’ve seen what he does when he’s fighting !! T^T that’s pure power !!

however, i do think it would be very close, like he’d get bokuto down at the last second !! bokuto is insanely strong don’t get me wrong, but i don’t think he’s necessarily super human, he is a volleyball player & bakugo’s training to be the number one hero </3 i feel my heart shattering for bokuto but i had to answer truthfully SOB !!

[mxnd-infxction]

god dammit i still think i should’ve taken that pack of marlboros out of my dad’s chest before he took it out of the house

[velarisdusk]

Embers to Ice

Cassian x Reader

Series Masterlist Part 5 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 7 - Veil of Frost

word count: 6k content: [ explicit sexual content, dub-con, unprotected PIV, rough sex, rough oral (m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, gagging, slapping, begging, degradation | mentions of infidelity, explicit language, emotional manipulation, alcohol ] summary: When something pushes Cassian's anger over the edge, you receive an unexpected text from him. It ignites a fiery and intense encounter, blurring the lines between desire and pain. As his anger drives him to relentless passion, you're left to confront both the storm of emotions and the unsettling truth that follows. author's note: we're coming up on the end here omgomg how exciting!!!! well.. maybe not super exciting for yall, these final two installments are a bit uhhhh......... anyway sorry for the bomb drop at the end teehee (no im not)

Cassian carved through the ice, his movements sharp, cutting, but automatic. His mind was far from focused on the drills. He was just here, skating because it was something to do, something to drown out the gnawing anger that had been festering for weeks. The rest of the team was trickling in, but there was no camaraderie in the air — none of the easy-going banter or brotherhood he once felt. The weight of their betrayal hung thick, unspoken, but suffocating.

Three weeks. Three weeks since he’d caught her at Ianthe’s party, caught all of them. Three weeks since everything came crashing down. He hadn’t spoken to her since he’d dropped her off at her mom’s. The apartment felt too big without her, too empty. She wasn’t just his anymore. She was theirs too — all of them. Every interaction with his teammates felt like an insult, every laugh he’d heard them share like a knife between his ribs, twisting just enough to remind him they had all taken something from him.

Cassian’s gloved hands tightened around his stick as he skated another lap. He could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, could sense the tension rippling through the air. No one had addressed it, not directly. But it was there. Palpable.

He pushed forward, the sharp bite of his blades cutting into the ice, trying to shake the anger threatening to overtake him. But then the rink doors swung open, and Eris stepped onto the ice, his skates gliding effortlessly as if he owned the place.

Cassian barely glanced at him — until he caught a blur of red. 

His gaze zeroed in on the red scrunchie, wrapped around the shaft of Eris’s hockey stick. It looked an awful lot like the one you wore to their games as a good luck charm. He wasn’t naive.

The world seemed to freeze around him, the noise of the rink dulling to a muted hum. The red fabric, twirling around with each movement Eris made, was like a flashing neon sign — mocking him, daring him to react. It wasn’t just a scrunchie. It was proof. Cassian’s knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on his stick. His pulse pounded in his ears, his heart slamming against his ribcage as his fury bubbled to the surface. He wanted to hit something. No. He wanted to hit him. 

“Nice scrunchie, Eris.” The words slid from his mouth, low and cold, as they glided past each other. 

Eris didn’t even glance at him, the bastard. Just smiled that infuriating smile that made him want to punch his teeth in, twirling his stick lazily in his hand. “What can I say?” Eris called back, loud enough for it to echo throughout the rink, for everyone else to hear. “I always leave with a souvenir.”

He could see the other guys trying to avoid his gaze, awkward and unsure, but none of them said anything. Not one of them. It was enough to make Cassian’s blood boil.

His chest heaved as he fought the urge to lash out, to take a swing at Eris right then and there. But he didn’t. Instead, he let the anger simmer, his jaw clenching so hard it ached. The tension coiled tight within him like a live wire sparking just beneath his skin, the weight of everything pressing down on him like a vice. 

Cassian led them all through the drills, but he barely registered any of it. Every glance at Eris, every flick of that red scrunchie, was a reminder of how everything had fallen apart. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You’re sitting at the small desk in your childhood bedroom, the dim glow of the evening sun filtering through the curtains, staring blankly at a cup of coffee that’s long since gone cold. It’s been three days since you shared Eris’s company, the weight of your decisions settling like lead in your chest. This room, so familiar, used to feel so safe. Now, it just feels… too small, too suffocating. 

Cassian is still back at the apartment, you assume. You haven’t been back there since the evening of the party. You can picture it: his clothes strewn carelessly in the closet, the dent in the couch where he always sat, the ring of your perfume still lingering in the air. The life you built together — the life you wrecked — is just there, untouched, waiting, while you sit here. Stuck.

You haven’t spoken in weeks. Not since the night he found out. Not since his eyes darkened with betrayal and he left you standing at your mother’s door, guilty. And the shame, the regret, the memories won’t let you go.

Especially not the ones of Eris. Three days ago, his hands were on you. Three days ago, you were tied up in his basement and tangled in his sheets, knowing you shouldn’t be but doing it anyway. He made you feel wanted, but the moment it was over, the emptiness came back. No matter how much you tried to bury it, it’s still there. The mess, the guilt, all of it crashing down on you like a punishment you can’t escape.

Your phone vibrates on the desk, pulling you out of your thoughts. You aren’t expecting anything, so when you see Cassian’s name light up the screen, it’s like a cold hand gripping your heart. Your fingers hesitate above the screen. It’s been weeks. Why now?

You tap the notification, and your breath catches in your throat when you read the message. 

Come over?

Your mind reels. Is he reaching out for a conversation? Is this a second chance, or just another storm surge? You know better than to hope too much, Cassian doesn’t forgive easily. But you can’t help the flicker of something — hope, desperation, need — that sparks to life in your chest. Still, there’s dread pooling in your stomach. The anger in his eyes that night, when he’d caught you all, you haven’t been able to get it out of your head. 

why ?

A long pause. You stare at the screen, pulse thrumming in your ears, until finally, the reply comes. 

You’ll see.

“what do you mean ?” you respond. A minute passes, then two. Your stomach twists in knots as you watch the “typing” bubble flash and disappear, then reappear again.

I think you know what I mean.

You close your eyes, his words sinking in, but you can’t read the tone. You’ve never been more afraid of a message in your life. 

cass, i don’t like fighting with you. can we talk ? please ?

His response is immediate. Who said anything about fighting?

You bite your lip, the uncertainty clawing at you. What does he want from you? An apology? Closure? Or something else entirely? Part of you wants to refuse, to put some more distance between you both before you get pulled back into the emotional chaos. But the other part, the one still clinging to the hope that things might not be as broken as they seem, presses on.

why now ?

It’s blunt, but you need to know. After weeks of nothing, after he’d shut you out completely, why now?

Does it matter?

Meet me, or don’t. Up to you.

The pit in your stomach deepens. The words are cold, and yet there’s something just underneath them, something unresolved and simmering just beneath the surface. You know this isn’t going to be easy, and that whatever happens tonight will leave you with more scars than you already have. But…

what time ?

9. Door will be open.

It’s 8 now. You stare at the screen, his final message sitting there like a weight pressing down on your chest. You should feel relieved that he’s giving you a chance, but instead, there’s only dread — and that flicker of hope that refuses to die. You set the phone down and let out a shaky breath. Cassian’s messages were as vague as they were unsettling, leaving you to stew in a mixture of dread and longing. The suddenness of his invite, the cold indifference in his words, the fact that you had no idea what would be waiting for you when you got there… You couldn’t shake the feeling that this meeting was going to end badly, but you couldn’t turn away from it, either. Not from him. 

Pushing back from the desk, you stood and wandered over to the small mirror above your dresser, staring at your reflection. Your eyes were tired, dark circles haunting your gaze from sleepless nights spent replaying every mistake you made. You didn’t know how to fix things. Hell, you weren’t even sure if you could fix things. But the need to try was too strong to ignore. 

Why now? You’d asked him, and his answer hadn’t been comforting. What would you even say to him? No amount of rehearsing could prepare you for the real thing, and every potential conversation that played out in your head ended in disaster. The truth was, you didn’t have the right words, didn’t know how to explain why you’d done what you had. Worse, you didn’t even know if he’d listen. He very well may have been calling you over to come get your things. 

As you stood in front of your closet trying to decide what to wear, you rubbed at the tightness in your chest, struggling to steady your breath. But the anxiety was relentless, spiking every time the thought of facing him crept back in. Cassian’s anger had always been a force to reckon with, and after everything you’d done, you didn’t want to imagine it directed at you. 

Maybe this is what I deserve, you thought bitterly. Maybe this meeting wasn’t about closure or second chances. Maybe it was just another consequence of your actions.

Those words echoed in your mind as you stood in front of the door. Your door. His door. Just like he said, it was unlocked, the latch clicking open with a slight push. The quiet inside felt oppressive, thick. You hesitated on the threshold, half-tempted to turn around and leave, but the soft hum of the TV in the living room drew you in. 

And there he was — Cassian, sitting in the dim light, his arms crossed, his broad shoulders tense. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t so much as glanced your way, but the air in the room shifted the moment you stepped inside. The space between you felt tense, like something fragile waiting to shatter. 

You closed the door behind with a soft click, the sound almost deafening in the silence that followed. 

“You came,” Cassian said, his voice low, emotionless. He didn’t bother looking at you, his gaze fixed ahead on the TV, but you knew he wasn’t watching. You could feel the storm brewing beneath the surface.

“Yeah.” Your voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. 

He stayed silent for a long moment. You were about to say something when he stood from the couch. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there. But when he finally turned to face you, it was like a punch to the gut. You could see it — the pain. The shadows under his eyes were darker than you remembered, his normally sharp features softened with exhaustion. Cassian had lost just as much sleep as you had, maybe more. And of course, he had. You’d wrecked everything between you in the worst way possible. You’d torn him apart. 

He took a slow step toward you, his gaze heavy, intense. There was no softness in his eyes, no hint of the Cassian who used to hold you close after every game, who used to make you laugh when no one else could. This version of him… he was something else. The anger, the betrayal, it still lingered in the air around him, even if he wasn’t saying it out loud.

He stopped when he was close enough for you to feel the heat coming off his body, close enough that you could smell the faint scent of whiskey already on his breath. “You want a drink?” he asked, his voice rough but casual, like you were just two old friends catching up.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I’m good.” I don’t want to pretend everything’s fine, you wanted to say. You wanted to talk, to finally get everything out in the open. 

He sucked his teeth, a sound that almost felt like a scoff, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Ahh, come on,” he said, moving past you to the kitchen. You heard the clink of glass as he pulled two tumblers down from the shelf, the dull slosh of whiskey as he poured. “One drink,” he added, like it was a command rather than an offer. 

You watched him silently, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. He poured you each a glass, and by the time he turned back to you, there was something sharper in his gaze, something that made your skin prickle. Cassian walked back to where you stood, barely a few paces past the threshold, pressing one of the glasses into your hand without waiting for you to protest. His fingers brushed yours as he handed it over, the contact sending a wave of unease through you. 

He tipped his own glass to his lips, throwing back the whiskey in one smooth motion. His eyes never left yours, daring you, waiting.

You stared down at the amber liquid in your hand, feeling the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. Just one drink. It wasn’t going to change anything. With a quiet breath, you lifted the glass to your lips and took a sip, the sharp burn of the whiskey flooding your senses. 

Cassian’s expression didn’t change as he watched you, the empty glass still in his hand. “Good,” he muttered under his breath, setting his glass down on the kitchen island with a clink that echoed in the stillness. 

Before you could say anything, he stepped closer, closing the small gap between you, his presence overwhelming. The heat from his body made your skin tingle, and when his hand reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your breath hitched. His touch was too familiar, too careful for the tension that buzzed between you. It sent a jolt through you, a reminder of all the nights you’d spent in this very apartment, tangled up with him, and how far away that felt now. 

“Cass, I–” you started, your voice trembling, but he didn’t let you finish. 

He shushed you, and his fingers slid down to your jaw, holding you there as his thumb brushed over your cheek. His lips were so close to yours now, close enough that you could feel his breath puff against your skin. Your heart raced in your chest, your mind screaming at you to pull back, to stop this before it started. 

“Please, Cass, we need to talk,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I–”

“I didn’t bring you here to talk,” he said, his voice low, the words brushing your lips as he spoke. You knew what he wanted, and the sight of his eyes darkening only confirmed it. You tried to push your free hand against his chest, a feeble attempt to put some distance between you.

But he didn’t stop. His mouth crashed against yours, the kiss hard, demanding, and it caught you off guard, sending a shockwave through your body. You gasped against his lips, your hands instinctively pressing against his chest, glass of whiskey and all, trying to push him away. But he was relentless, his hand snaking around your waist and pulling you closer, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that made your knees weak. 

“Cassian, don’t,” you managed to get out between breaths, your hands pushing harder against his chest. For a moment, he hesitated, his grip loosening just enough for you to break the kiss and pull back slightly, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts. 

“I–” you started again, but the words felt useless now. He was looking at you with such intensity, his chest rising and falling with the same ragged breaths, and for a second, you could see the raw pain behind his anger. He was hurting — just as much as you were, likely more. And in that moment, you realized that talking wasn’t going to fix this. Words wouldn’t heal the damage you’d done. But you would still try, damn it. 

Cassian’s eyes flicked down to your lips, and before you could think, his mouth was on you again. This time, it was slower, deeper, but still full of that same bitterness, that same unresolved anger. His hands moved down your body, gripping your hips as he backed you against the door. Your mind screamed at you to stop, to push him away, to try to make him talk. But his touch, his toned muscles pressing against you, it all clouded your thoughts until the only thing left was him. 

You could feel his frustration in every movement, in the way his lips pressed harder against yours, in the way his hands gripped you like he was afraid you’d slip away. And maybe that was what this was — a way to hold on to something that had already slipped through his fingers. 

He broke the kiss for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath heavy. “Tell me to stop,” he muttered, his voice rough and ragged. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because even though your mind was screaming at you to stop this, to pull back and speak on the situation like adults, your body — your body and heart — they’d already made their decision. 

Instead of answering, you kissed him again, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you pulled him closer. The whiskey glass slipped from your grip, landing with a heavy thud as the amber liquid pooled across the hardwood floor. Surprisingly, the glass hadn’t shattered. He responded immediately, his hands sliding under your shirt, his touch sending a rush of heat through you that made your head spin. His fingers gripped your skin, nothing gentle about it. His mouth was on yours again, hard and demanding, and any attempt at control you had slipped further with each frantic kiss. 

His fingers dug back into your hips, and he pulled you toward him. You tried to catch your breath, but Cassian didn’t give you the chance. His hand slipped between your legs, pressing roughly against the front of your jeans, the friction sending a jolt of sensation through your body that made you gasp. 

“Cass–” you started, but the words died on your lips as his fingers worked your button open with a quick, practiced motion. The next thing you knew, his hand was inside, sliding past the fabric of your underwear. His fingers found you immediately, slipping through your wetness with a precision that had your back arching involuntarily. But this wasn’t the way he used to touch you — not with the slow, teasing strokes meant to drive you crazy. This was something else, something far more aggressive. 

“Missed me?” Cassian rasped against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. “Missed this?”

Two of his fingers plunged inside you without warning,  stretching you, moving in fast, unforgiving strokes. You let out a choked gasp, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he fingered you hard, each thrust of his fingers sending shockwaves through you. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was as if he was trying to remind you — this is mine. You were mine. 

“Fuck,” he growled against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, huh? How easy you’d fall right back into it.” His fingers pumped inside you, deeper, harder, each movement making it clear that this was about more than making you feel good. This was something he needed. 

With a whimper, your head fell back against the door, your mind spinning with the sensation, the way his fingers curled inside you, hitting that spot that made your legs tremble. It was so much, so fast. The push and pull between your desire and the way he was handling you was dizzying. His other hand tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your throat to his lips.

“Did you think of me while you let them fuck you?” he hissed, voice dripping with venom as his palm pressed roughly against your clit. “Did you miss my fingers when you spread your legs for them?”

You moaned despite yourself, the push and pull of your desire and guilt twisting inside you. He bit down on the tender skin of your neck, his fingers still driving into you with that relentless pace. “Cass, please…” You barely managed to choke the words out, your body reacting to the brutal pace of his fingers even as your mind struggled to keep up. 

“Please what?” he mocked, his voice low and full of heat. “Please, Cassian? Please don’t stop, Cassian? I’m desperate for something to fill my pathetic fucking hole, Cassian? You want more, don’t you?”

Before you could answer, Cassian pulled his hand back abruptly, removing his fingers from you with a sharpness that left you gasping, your legs unsteady. 

“Open your mouth,” he growled, and you did without thinking, instinct taking over. He pressed his fingers down against your tongue, and you almost gagged at the sudden pressure. You tasted yourself on them, sucked them clean, never breaking eye contact. 

“That’s it,” he said, his voice cold as he watched you. “You take it so well.”

He pulled his fingers from your lips and was already moving. His hand gripped the back of your neck, guiding you downward, pushing you to your knees in front of him. You blinked up at him, breathless, the weight of what was happening sinking in. But the look in his eyes, the intensity, the fury… it left you speechless. 

Cassian wasted no time. He tugged at his belt, yanking his pants down just enough to free himself. “Take that shit off,” he muttered, nodding toward your shirt and bra. “You wanna make it up to me, right?” he said, his voice rough. “Go ahead. Show me. Let me feel how sorry you are.”

Before you could brace yourself, his hand was in your hair, and he was guiding his cock past your lips. He was thick and hard, and the taste of him was almost sweet as he pushed himself deeper into your mouth, his hips jerking forward with a force that made your eyes water. 

“Take it,” he growled, holding you in place as he thrust into your mouth, the motion brutal. “Of course you’d take it so easily, so sweetly. Look at you. Look at those perfect fucking tits.”

You tried to adjust to the sensation, to put on a show for him as you played with your breasts, massaging and pinching and squeezing. His hand tightened in your hair, holding your head still as he fucked your mouth with a punishing rhythm. His breathing grew heavier, each thrust more forceful than the last.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head tipping back slightly as he buried himself deeper, the sound of your gagging making his cock twitch against your throat. “You’ve always been so fucking good at this, goddamn.” His hips kept moving, faster, harder, his grip unrelenting as he used you.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your jaw aching as he pushed you to the limit, fucking your face like it was the only thing that mattered. And maybe right now, it was. You could feel the anger still simmering beneath the surface, the way his need for control dominated every movement. And even though you knew this wasn’t how tonight should have gone, the heat building in your gut betrayed you. 

Finally, with one last thrust, he pulled back, his breathing heavy and labored as he looked down at you. You gasped for air, wiping at your mouth, your body trembling. Without a word, Cassian lifted you to your feet, his hands rough and commanding. He pushed you toward the couch, and you landed with a quiet “oomph,” your body barely having time to register what was happening before his hands were on you again. 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured as he pulled your jeans and underwear down with quick, rough motions, leaving your heat bare and exposed to him. You could hear him behind you, kicking his own jeans off, and feel the heat of his body as he lined himself up. Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind reeling with the intensity of it all. “Tell me you don’t need this.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to say anything, but all that came out was a shaky gasp as he slammed himself into you, filling you in one hard thrust. You cried out, your hands scrambling to brace yourself against the back of the couch as he started moving immediately, his pace brutal and unforgiving.

“That’s right,” he snarled, his grip on your hips bruising as he thrust into you with a force that made your legs shake. “You take it so well. Just like always.” There was nothing soft about it, each thrust slammed you into the couch, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as Cassian fucked you harder, faster, the anger pouring out of him in every movement.  This wasn’t love or tenderness. This was raw, angry, and so intense it left you gasping for air.

“Did any of them fuck you like this? Did Eris fuck you like this?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned over you, his hips never slowing. “Did you take him as sweetly as you’re taking me? Were you this pretty for him, this complacent?”

“Cass, please…” you cried out. Was that all you could think to say to him?

“Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he bit out, his fingers digging into your skin. “I know you. You’re mine. You always have been, and you always will be.”

His words cut through you, the intensity, the fury in his voice mixing with the pleasure that had your body on the edge of unraveling. And despite everything, despite the pain, the anger, the confusion — you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, the way the pleasure kept building, threatening to spill over.

“You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?” he muttered, still fucking into you with no sign of slowing down. “Of course you are. You can’t help yourself. Not with me. You never could.”

His grip tightened, his movements steady as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You couldn’t help but chase that high, pushing your hips back against his, responding to every brutal thrust, every mocking word. 

“Come for me,” he growled. “Come on.”

And with that, your body shattered, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as you came, your mind going blank, your legs shaking beneath you. Cassian yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground, but he never slowed his pace, and his cock was still buried deep inside you. He didn’t stop. If anything, the pace he set before only grew more intense at the feel of your muscles contracting around him. The pressure of his hips slamming into yours, the harsh grip of his hands, it was all too much, and yet… not enough.

“You think I’m done with you?” His voice was a low, dark rumble against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

Before you could protest, he leaned his body over yours and snaked his arm to your front, finding your clit with practiced precision. You gasped, your body jerking in response, your oversensitive nerves already on the edge of snapping again. He wasn’t giving you a chance to recover, wasn’t letting you escape the relentless pace he set. 

“Did Rhysand fuck you like this?” he snarled, his fingers circling your clit faster now, drawing another moan from deep within you. “Did he make you scream? Bet he didn’t make you come this hard, did he?”

You tried to shake your head, tried to speak, but Cassian clamped a hand over your mouth, straightening up as he used his grip to drive you back onto his cock again and again. Each thrust hit that spot deep inside you, leaving you dizzy and breathless. You could barely think, let alone find the words. 

“No answer?” he mocked, his voice rough and dripping with arrogance. “Figures. I bet you happily spread your legs for him, just hoping he’d fuck you half as good as I do.”

You whimpered, your legs trembling beneath you as the pleasure built again, unable to do anything but take the fucking he gave you. His fingers pressed harder against your clit, rubbing in tight circles as he thrust into you with bruising force. You knew you’d be unbelievably sore in the morning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when you felt yourself spiraling, hurtling toward release once more, and there was nothing to be done to stop it. 

“You’re going to come again, aren’t you? Y’know how I can tell?” he muttered darkly, leaning in closer. “I know your pussy. I know when it feels good, I know when it wants to be stuffed full of cock. I know when it wants to come just by how it squeezes my fucking dick.”

You cried out, the overwhelming sensation of him pounding into you, his fingers merciless on your clit, pushing you closer and closer. His hand over your mouth did next to nothing to muffle the depraved sounds escaping you. 

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” he grunted. “I want you to come for me. I want you to scream my name while you come on my cock.”

And you did. He moved his hand just as your orgasm ripped through you, his name spilling from your lips again and again. Every muscle in your body went taut, the intensity making you convulse. You would have collapsed if he weren’t holding you so tightly, his grip bruising, keeping you upright as he rode you through your second orgasm.

But he still wasn’t done.

He pulled out of you abruptly, leaving you feeling empty and aching despite having finished twice. You blush, embarrassed at the thought. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he spun you around, his eyes dark and wild with hunger as he looked down at you. “Get on your knees.”

You clambered off the couch and dropped to your knees for him again, your body and mind too overwhelmed to do anything but obey. Cassian stood over you, his chest heaving, his cock still rock-hard and slick with your arousal. He grabbed your hair, pulling your head back as he shoved himself back into your mouth. 

“Did Azriel fuck your throat like this?” he demanded, thrusting into your mouth with a brutal rhythm that had you gagging, tears streaming down your cheeks this time. “Did he make you choke on it? Bet he didn’t. Bet you let him take you nice and slow.”

You thought back to that day, to how Azriel had asked you if Cassian was too gentle while he fucked you stupid. But you couldn’t think about it for very long. Cassian slapped your cheek just a little harder than necessary, his cock still down your throat. “No one makes you choke like I do, huh?” he groaned, his cock twitching against your throat. “Not Tarquin, not Helion, and definitely not fucking Eris.”

He pulled out then, leaving you coughing and gasping for air as he turned you around and shoved you to the ground. “This is what you need,” he panted, driving into you with unmatched force, your cheek brushing against the plush area rug. “I bet Helion and Tarquin didn’t give it to you like this.” He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he growled, “Did Helion make you beg for it? Did Tarquin fuck you hard enough to make you scream like this?”

You moaned, the pleasure building up again, your body responding to every brutal thrust, every filthy word that left his lips. 

“Of course not,” Cassian sneered. “He couldn’t. None of them can. Not. Like. Me.” He punctuated the words with particularly deep thrusts that had you trying to pull your hips away from him. A fruitless effort, his hands yanking you back with a laugh. 

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing in tight, small circles that had you gasping, your body on the verge of breaking for a third time. You were shaking, face against the rug, unable to hold yourself up anymore. 

“Come again,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. “I’m not stopping until you do, so fucking hurry up.”

You felt yourself unraveling, the pleasure too intense, too overwhelming. His name tumbled from your lips again, followed by an incoherent string of curses as you teetered on the edge. 

“That’s it,” he growled, his grip on you tightening as his rhythm finally began to falter. “Come for me. Let me hear you scream.”

And scream you did. The pleasure ripped through you, your body shuddering violently as you came again, your vision going white, your mind completely blank. Cassian followed soon after, his own release tearing through him as he groaned, spilling inside you with one final, brutal thrust. 

“Tell me,” he whispered roughly as he pulled out of you, turning you onto your back so he could look down at you. “Tell me if Eris made you come like that. Did he fuck you like I just did?”

You shook your head weakly, your body too spent to do anything but breathe, your legs still shaking from the intensity of it all. 

Cassian stood up, already pulling on his boxer briefs and jeans with calm efficiency, as if nothing had happened. You lay there for a moment, trembling, your mind still foggy. Slowly, you fumbled for your clothes, pulling them back on in silence, your body aching and spent. 

As you zipped up your jeans, still breathless and shaken, you looked over at him. He was slipping his shirt back on, the casualness of his movements making your stomach twist. 

“Cass… what are you doing?” you asked, your voice shaky, confused. “I thought we–”

He cut you off coldly. “I told you,” he said, pulling his shirt down over himself. “I didn’t ask you to come over here to talk. I’m heading out, but you can stay here tonight.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in, making your heart clench. Your hands trembled as you adjusted your shirt, a gnawing dread already settling deep in your gut. 

Cassian zipped up his jeans, then leaned down, his voice soft but biting. “No one will ever fuck you the way I do,” he said, voice full of an almost cruel satisfaction. “You’ll spend the rest of your life chasing this. Chasing me.” 

As you straightened up, zipping your own jeans, Cassian continued. “No one else will ever be enough,” he said, “and you’ll have to live with that.”

You swallowed hard, your hands shaking as you adjusted your shirt. When you looked up, you saw him halfway to the door, fully dressed now. But he turned back, a glint of cruel amusement in his eyes. “Oh,” he added casually, like an afterthought. Like his next words wouldn’t hit you like a punch to the gut, like a knife twisted deep into your chest. “You’ll also have to live with knowing that you sucked me off after I fucked Elain raw. Right here. On this couch. She left right before you got here.”

[on-a-lucky-tide]

teehee its my birthday buuuuuut i am here clawing for nikprice on the ground like a chicken. anyway i wonder how would a nikprice drunk confession go. i just love that trope to death lol

It's your birthday? Happy birthday, mate! A small gift...

Price gets a medal and then gets drunk at the after party. Nik is surprised to hear what he has to say. No one else - and I mean, no one else - is.

cw: alcohol, drunken kiss.

"I hate these bloody things," Price mumbled into his scotch, staring bleary-eyed at his own reflection in the mirror behind the bar. His speech had been short, concise, and he had spent the majority of it talking about the bravery and dedication of his Task Force. The rest of 'em had prattled on for ages about themselves, preening their egos with the new metal on their chests.

"It is a party in your honour, captain. You did a brave thing. And," Nik leaned back to pluck a canapé from the tray of a passing waitress, "there is free food." He pulled the honey-soaked sausage off the cocktail stick and chucked it in the air, catching it in his open mouth, much to the consternation of a gaggle of RAF officers nearby.

None of them were brave enough to let Nikolai see or hear what they thought of him, because they had all heard enough whispers of his service record to steer well clear. Even top brass were scared enough of him to overlook his multiple active Interpol arrest warrants so that he could attend.

Price smiled as Nik chewed, clearly pleased with his feat of dexterity, and then proceeded to slosh his scotch all over himself as he leaned his elbow against the bar... but missed said bar by about an inch and a half. "Bollocks," he growled, as expensive alcohol soaked into the equally expensive wool of his number one uniform.

Nik chuckled, snatching up a handful of serviettes from the bar. "I am starting to think you are a lightweight," he said, swivelling around in his bar stool so that his knees bracketed Price's, a folded serviette pressed to Price's chest to soak out some of the scotch.

"'M not," Price... slurred, fuck, maybe he was. "You wearin' cologne?"

"Da, number one majesté impériale."

"Sounds posh," Price said, lifting his scotch for another swig.

"Hm, it is $215,000 a bottle."

Price choked on his drink, spluttering it back into the glass. "You spent nearly four times my salary on some cologne?" He wheezed.

"It is a special occasion."

"Bloody fucking christ, Nik. It's a medal ceremony, not a bloody coronation."

"It is more important to me," Nik said, "because it is you."

Price felt his cheeks and ears warm. It didn't help that Nik's big hands were still on his chest, careful to pluck away the stray fibres of serviette from where it clung to the damp wool. This close, Price couldn't help but stare.

Fuck, he was so... handsome.

Nik had made an effort to look, and smell, his best. In his expensive tailored three-piece, no tie, because... well, who would be brave enough to tell Nikolai to put on a fuckin' tie? The open top button gave Price a really good view of his chest hair peeking through at the top. Oh, fuckin'... Hot, it was hot in here. Damn uniform.

"Careful, captain, you will fall," Nik said softly, palm pressed to the centre of Price's chest. Price had been leaning forward. Leering. Oh, this was embarrassing. He cleared his throat, shuffled back, and beckoned the barman over for a refill.

Two more glasses, one of vodka and another of scotch, and Price chanced a glance over at Nik again. "Thanks... for, uh, coming to this. The boys like the schmoozin', Simon doesn't stay longer than the talks, don't blame him, but, I, uh..."

"You find it hard to navigate the politics because you are honest and they," Nik waved his hand vaguely around the room, "are not."

Price smiled faintly. "Yeah, guess so. Full of compliments today, Nik. Man might get the wrong idea."

"Or... the right idea."

Price froze with the glass halfway up to his mouth. Even through the drunken dog, he managed to parse the meaning behind that. In payment, however, his brain had decided to bury his entire knowledge of the English language, so all he could do was make a small noise in the back of his throat, which he smothered with a large mouthful of scotch.

Nik hadn't turned in his stool, his knees still spread wide either side of Price's, and Price wanted to shuffle a little closer. He wanted those hands back on his chest, and he wanted... Christ, he just wanted. He had wanted for a long fuckin' time.

"Here," Nik said, sliding a plate of sausages over to Price. "It will absorb some of the scotch."

"Urf, naw, can't stomach that shit..."

"Then we shall go elsewhere."

"Wot?"

"Come, captain. The sergeants left for the clubs ten minutes ago."

"They did? Bastards..."

"Da. I will get your coat."

The fresh evening air hit Price like a sledge hammer to the face, and he was pretty sure he would have fallen in the gutter without Nikolai to lean on. He was intimately aware of the strong arm around his waist, one of his hands clinging onto Nik's expensive wool coat as they staggered into the local Maccy D's for a Big Mac and chicken nugget share box.

Nik paid for it, flashing his most charming smile at the young girl behind the counter as he collected the highly decorated SAS captain from where he was clinging onto a nearby condiments bench for support, takeaway bag in hand.

They ended up sat on a bench by the Thames, dressed to the nines, Nik smelling of thousand dollar cologne as he wolfed down over-salted MacDonald's chips at Price's side, and Price couldn't stop staring at him.

Nik could be anywhere else. Anywhere. He could be partying with the wealthiest men and women in the world, walking among the elite, and yet here he was sitting in London eating shitty fast food with a drunk soldier. He chose Price every time. Every time. Price felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. "Nikolai..."

"Da, captain."

"I think I love you."

Nik grinned, huffing a soft chuckle. "Mmhm."

"No, no," Price swiped his beret off, which had somehow managed to cling onto his head while they had staggered through the mean streets of Westminster. "I... I'm serious. I... I love you. Have for, uh," he hiccuped, fucking hiccuped, tried to recover by puffing into his clenched fist, "...have for a while," he squeaked. Oh, fuck, was that indigestion?

Nik put his box of chicken nuggets aside and turned, arm draped over the back of the bench. He slid a gloved hand under Price's chin and turned his head up. Seconds later, they were kissing. Fucking... Nik's fucking lips were on Price's and, and...

Price hiccuped again.

Nik chuckled into his mouth, before drawing away to smooth his thumb through Price's beard. "This is not how I imagined it, but it is... somehow, right."

Price's face was bright red, he could feel it burning, and his eyes were wide. "You, uh... You..."

"For many, many years, solnyshko."

"We've... that's a... a long time." Price said softly.

"I am a patient man. And you are worth waiting for."

After that, Price didn't really recall much. The MacDonald's hit the deck and Price climbed Nikolai like a bloody tree. They ended up in his hotel room, with Nik's expensive suit and Price's (honestly, perhaps slightly less) expensive uniform on the floor. It might have gone further than boyish fumbling if Price hadn't fallen asleep face down in the pillows after saying he didn't want to take advantage of Nik in his current state. Nik had chuckled at that and laid down next to him, stroking his hair.

Price woke up in the morning with a sore head and a dry mouth, and found Nik sitting by the open window in a hotel dressing gown. "Nik, did I..."

"Nyet, captain. You were an absolute gentleman." Nik put the newspaper aside and took his glasses off, delivering the waiting pint of water and aspirin to Prices hands. "Do you... remember what you said?"

Price's cheeks reddened. "Yeah, look, I'll understand if--"

He didn't get to finish. Nik kissed him squarely on his stupid mouth, stroking a big palm through his hair. When he drew back, he hummed softly. "Drink that and then we will go to breakfast," he said, walking away. Price couldn't help but stare as the dressing gown slid down his broad back, revealing a full arse framed in black boxers. "And brush your teeth."

Price downed the water and staggered from beneath the duvet. He was ready to head down within ten minutes, desperate for a strong coffee and a greasy sarnie. Unfortunately, the rest of his task force, Los Vaqueros, Chimera, Laswell and a handful of her agents happened to be in the dining room already.

"Eyy, there he is!" Gaz called, toasting his mug of coffee.

Soap looked round, glanced at Nik and then back at Price. "Fuckin' finally."

Laswell rested her chin on her palm. "Bagged your man then, Nik. Well done."

Price blinked, squinting in the bright morning light. "So you all--"

Simon walked past, his plate heaped with bacon and eggs, and shoved a coffee into his captain's hand before patting his shoulder. "Yeah. Everyone did 'cept you."

Price looked at Nik for help, only to receive a shrug and a quirked eyebrow before Nik wandered off to the buffet.

"Bloody bastards," Price muttered, glancing at each triumphant face, thumbs up and smirk, before slumping into a nearby chair. Bloody. Bastards

[harlotistic]

Helloo!! This is not-freaky-anon resending my ask because I.. forgor to put my name on it. Teehee.

"Hi!!! Hello!!! Hiya!!! Your posts brings me joy mwa mwa I love them and I would consume them if they have a physical form.

Anyways!! Lipgloss! I love women applying lip gloss actually one of my biggest kinks idk why tbh.I ate a shit ton of melatonin gummies the other day and my movements become sluggish for like a couple hours before completely passing out on the floor miau. Dw this has happened often lol.

So I propose to you!! An extremely sluggish airheaded MC applying their lip gloss so slowly because they have to attend this very important meeting/gala/party with their beloved boyfriend even though each cell in them is begging for sleep.

The LLs just.. watches. Gulps, even. Salivates? Idk. They're transfixed for some reason and they can't help it because omg here's their pretty little girlfriend applying a white-based sparkly lipgloss to make up for the lack of shine (because they're too lazy) on their face and all they could think about is how MC should wear their cum as their primary lip gloss.

When the LLs asked why MC applied it like that they just go "Oh -w- I'm sleepy -w- I can't function rn I'm so sorry -w-" and thoughts of fucking the sleepiness out of them and abandoning the gala entirely runs over LLs buffering brain.

That is all!!! Live love eat!!! I will come back sometime later to provide heavenly weird girl pussy ask!! Buh-bye!!!!"

hi not freaky anon!! i was about to sayyy hehe :)) ty for the ask!! also please are you alright?? why are you constantly going through it 😭 hope you got a good rest and are feeling better!!

the prettiest shade

tw. oral sex (m receiving), sleepy sex, nsfw

that lipgloss colour is actually diabolical like white based sparkly lipgloss??? at this point you just want to tease them! they're just watching fully entranced as you glides the applicator on your slightly parted soft pretty lips. their cocks twitching in their pants and fingers clenched tight as they try to remind themselves that there's a gala to attend.

so when you turn around to face them with droopy sleepy eyes and lips sparkling with cum coloured gloss, all it took was a bat of your lashes and a slight pout for them to be all over you. hours of work put into getting dressed dissolved in mere seconds as they pepper your skin with kisses and nips to mark your pretty skin. whispering begging you to please let them see you in your knees, their cock between your lips.

fingers in your hair as they hold themselves back from thrusting too hard, balls drawn tight from the way you whimper and moan against their cocks all sleepy and cute. watching the way you rutted your clothed core against the carpeted ground because your hands are occupied with holding onto their thighs. so when their hips shudder, they pull out with effort to spurt it all over your tongue and tits. panting as they scoop the mess and spread it across your lips with shaky fingers.

"this shade suits you so much better..."

[toastykaykes]

Paint it Black (Prologue)

Hello! This is the beginning of a series for me! Series rating will be M (18+). There will be mention of torture, mention of SA, abuse, fighting, alcohol, sex, and probably more that I'll warn before the chapter.

Pair: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader.

Please give me feedback so I can become better! But anyway guys, here's the Prologue!! Teehee Enjoy

Word count: 1116

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

CLANG 

CLANG CLANG

.

.

“Get up.”

You peek through your eyes, feeling as if you are the earth gazing upon humanities evils. There’s so much crust and filth embedded in your skin, it’s essentially consuming you. You just want to sink and hide beneath it. Away from all of this. Away from this pain. 

You look past this facade and see the same place you’ve been encased in for…how long now? You’ve lost track of time, between the hell they put you through and the salvation you call your mind when everything goes black.

Grime and grease, blood and bodily fluids litter the concrete floor of your cell. No bed, no toilet, just chains they use to confine you. To use you. 

“I SAID GET THE FUCK UP! WHAT YOU CAN’T EVEN HEAR ANYMORE?” The man yells, the increase of volume and proximity making your earthbound soul shake. He pounds the cell wall, this fist probably getting scuffed trying to make himself look like a monster. 

A monster.

You shift your head, (e/c) eyes finding the same guard as always who comes to collect you. His face naturally hosts a snarl of a smirk, as do most of the people at this place. Oh how you just wish to clean the earth of them all. People like them, all they do is hurt and consume others. You manage to contort your muscles in your face to paint on some form of a twisted smile. If it even could be called that. It’s more so of a snarl, but depends on who’s looking. To him, he takes it as a smile, throwing one back as he enters the stall. 

“I knew that would catch your attention honey,” He draws out while his hand jerks out to grab your head, smacking it against the wall behind you, “ya know you’ve lasted way longer than another mutant down here. Poor Wanda couldn’t handle it anymore…tsk. What a shame, right.” 

As you take in his words, your heart feels like it stops. There’s no way she’s..gone. She was so strong, way stronger than me. We both promised to get out of here together, to finally free ourselves of this filth. To make sure no other children and women would ever go through this pain. 

Something that is all you feel right now, throbbing throughout your body. If your body had anything left in it, you would feel the tears slip past the threshold, becoming one with the dirt on your face. You let your eyes fall, shutting out the feeling his hands go lower to your neck ready to start. The cold steel of the needle just barely pierces your skin. 

His chapped fucking lips scorch your ear, “You’re all just filthy demons. You act like you're all powerful when really all you are is weak. Disgusting and impure. Can’t even fight back, I bet you like what we do to you huh? You filthy whore.”

Fight back? All I’ve been doing is fighting back. Day after day, fighting the urge to just let myself die. To end this hellish loop I've been stuck in. But I never did, because of Wanda….

You fall inside your mind, where you're standing surrounded by your shadows. Your safe place. It’s here where you can truly react to what just happened. Wanda is gone. The only person who made you feel an ounce of sanity. Gone. Your knees give out as you gasp, feeling the air leave your body. You feel the shadows around you, swirling between your fingertips and through your anger. You gaze up, tears cascading down your cheeks to see the door. That goddamn red door. 

You begin to smile. Wanda wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. 

I’ll show them who the real monster is. 

And you let your shadows paint the door Black. 

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

“Miss (l/n)?” 

You look up from your stack of ungraded assignments to see Daven holding his hand up. You smile. “Something on your mind Daven?” 

“I was wondering if you have a favorite hero here? Like mine is Cyclops. He’s so cool with his lasers that go ‘bbsszzzz’” Daven asks with a huge grin, hands reenacting exactly what Scott’s eyes do when fighting. The whole class starts to laugh, children chiming in louder who theirs is. 

You can’t help but chuckle as they start to all talk about who on the X-men is their hero. So much for a quiet break. “How about you all draw your favorite X-men and give it to them as a gift? I think that would be quite nice, wouldn't you?” 

This of course went over very well with them, their smiles growing wider in excitement. Chairs topple over as you see them all rush to get their papers and crayons, some grabbing paints. “Remember to be clean!” You chime while sitting back down, grading their homework assignments before their attention span dies. 

By the end of class, everyone has their special drawing and the room is clean. Thank God. 

You hold the door for them as they all let out one by one. “Next week you have a quiz! So remember to read your chapters over the weekend.” You smile at them all, feeling content they enjoyed their art class. It’s something you hold dear to yourself, always finding serenity and peace with it. Which makes your heart happy to be able to share with them. 

“Miss (l/n), I have something for you.”

You look down to see Marie, adorably clad with pigtails and bows that match her uniform. 

“Whatcha got sweetie?” You say while reaching out to grab what she was offering. 

“My hero doesn’t come here often. He’s mysterious like that. But I wanted you to give it to him if you see him.” Her drawing is a misshapen round circle person clad in a yellow suit with what looks like knives poking out of his hands like Freddy Kreuger. HUH

“Honey, you sure you don’t want to give it to him? You made it. I’m sure he’d love to receive it from you.” You look down to see her shake her head no. 

“No, I think you should give it to Logan.” She then turns on her cute little shoes and makes her way out the door and down the hall.  Bro I don’t even know a Logan. Huh, maybe Professor Charles knows something about this. You sigh to yourself before folding it into itself and stuffing it into your bag. You feel the exhaustion from today begin to settle in with the quiet. Closing the door behind you, you walk down the hall, ready to get this meeting over with.

[luvanniiee]

needy • h.hj •

pairings- gamer!hyunjin x fem!reader

synopsis- he always says he’ll get off in a few minutes or when he’s finished the round. leaving you with an ache only he can soothe.

warnings- SMUT!!!! teasing, unprotected sex (be smart bookie), oral (m and f receiving), slight masturbation (ur doing it),petnames, slight overstimulation, slight edging (he stops before he cums). some bratty behavior.

a/n: sorry for not posting in forever :(. butttt i just turned 19!!! WOOOOO!! anyways, hope yall enjoy this, please send more reqs, and also still accepting moots! and im also almost at 80 followers teehee i could cry. anyways much love!

youve been sitting on the couch for hours now. sitting behind hyunjin, trying to be patient and wait for him to finally finish the game so he could give you attention for what feels like the first time today. he didnt show any signs of getting off soon even though he said he’d be “finished in a few minutes”. whenever you ask him if hes finished, he would say “almost. give me a few more minutes”. and those minutes turned into hours.

you sighed unusually loud when you asked him one more time. “im almost done, im literally about to beat this level. just give me a few more minutes.” he said. “ugh, its been hours since you last said that, and im really needy right now. cant you just save it and finish later?” you said.

there really isnt an established dom/sub dynamic in the relationship. sometimes you would take control, and sometimes he would take the lead. so when he heard the slight brattiness in your tone, he paused the game to look at you. it was like he was warning you with his eyes. “i told you that im almost finished. now you can do either of these two things im gonna suggest. you can either find something to do until im finished or sit there like the good pretty girl you are and wait for me.” he said.

the firmness of his voice was enough to quiet you down, but it also added fuel to the fire between your legs. it was becoming unbearable. so when hyunjin turned back to the screen of his computer, you decided to slip your hands down there to relieve yourself until he was able to help.

it didnt take long for hyunjin to catch on to what was going on behind him. the sounds of your soft whimpers, and the sounds of your wet pussy were reaching his ears. “princess, are you touching yourself?” he asked softly. you stopped in your actions to brat out “yes, because you arent doing it.”

he turned in his chair to see that you were there on the couch, only in a shirt, panties on the floor, legs spread and fingers sticky. he swore he could cum right then at the sight. but he composed himself. he walks over to you, and lowers himself so you and him are eye to eye. he grips your thighs and kisses them softly. moving closer to where you really need him.

your breath getting gradually louder as he nears your pussy, but stops as soon as hes facing it. hyunjin blows cool air on your clit, the new sensation making you whine, and clench around nothing. he smiles knowing how much control he has over you right now.

he starts off by kissing around the folds softly, just enough to drive you insane. youre getting wetter everytime he presses his lips on you. then he moves to your clit and swirls his tongue around it. you were already riled up from playing with yourself, so you know it wont take long for you. he switches from kitten licks to flicking his tongue to tracing figure eight. all of this combined with his lock on your eyes is enough to send you over the edge. “im cumming!” you nearly scream out. “go ahead.” he says. and with that, you came with your whole body shaking from him continuing to eat you out. “aah- stop baby!” you whine.

but your whines fell upon deaf ears. it was apparent he wasnt gonna stop until he was ready. so you pushed his head away and he wiped his mouth clean.

“satisfied?” he asked. you shook your head no. “let me return the favor and then ill be satisfied.” you said back. so he sat down as you got up. you pulled his boxers down, as thats all he was wearing. his boxers and a long sleeve shirt. you give his tip a kiss. just to get him back for teasing you in the beginning. he hisses slightly when you lick it. “baby please.” he whined out. you looked him in the eye and smiled as you took him down your throat. his head thrown back against the cushion on the couch. hyunjin grabbed your head and thrusted his hips up softly when he felt you about to tease him again. with every thrust, he was panting and letting out small moans. “oh god, its so good, i wanna cum down your throat. but i wanna fuck you so bad now.” he moaned softly.

as he felt himself about to cum, he quickly took himself out of your mouth. you sat back on your feet and looked at him gather himself. “come here princess.” hyunjin said as he patted his lap. you knew what he wanted. so you climbed on top and slid yourself down on him slowly.

the stretch making you both moan. you gave him and yourself a moment to get ready. and slowly rocked yourself on him. hyunjin knows you talk the most shit when youre on top. “see baby, you couldve had this hours ago, if you werent playing the game all day.” you said. he rolled his eyes at you and gripped your hips to make you go faster. the slow pace was good but you both know that the faster pace is better.

“so tight for me, yeah? you been waiting for this, like a needy pretty girl.” hyunjin moaned in your ear. the raspiness of his voice was driving you insane. all you could do was moan back in response. he stilled your hips so he could adjust himself and thrust up into you. you let out a throaty moan as he was hitting your g-spot well. “s’good.” was all you could say. your mind going numb as he continued to thrust into you.

hyunjin felt you clenching around him, signaling that you were close. “close already? does it feel that good?” he said. you couldnt answer him, so you let your cries and whines do the talking. “go ahead love, cum for me.” he whispered in your ear. he leaned you back a little so he could rub your clit. the overstimulation he was giving you made your mind go blank.

“fuck…” was all you said as you came around him. shaking and screaming a little as he pounded into you harder so he could cum. he was close and you could feel it in the way his hips were losing rhythm. “baby…please let me cum inside…cant hold it anymore…” hyunjin whined. you were too far gone to speak so you just nodded. he wasted no time in filling you up. “fuck..baby!” he moaned loudly.

he started to slow down as he was riding his high out. both of you taking the time to catch a breath before kissing each other softly.

“next time hyunjin, dont make me wait.” you said.

“next time ill leave your needy ass high and dry.” he replied in the same cockiness.

©️luvanniiee on tumblr

[divinelolita]

GOOD MORNINGGGG(istg if you dont reply to those tiktoks imma-)

ANYWAY i woke up and had an idea for u cuz im so smart and imma give it to you

so lemme get theeee mcflurry and a big mac(full band headcannons) with a bf who just be maddddd clingy and they love it like all the time but thing is if someone does it a lot then they bound to need space and they thought if they told reader to stop he finna be sad

BUT sooner or mf they yell(not yell yell) for reader to stop for just a god damn minute and readers just like "ok🤷🏾" AND WALKS AWAY AND DOESNT HUG OR KISS THEM FOR THE REST OF THE WEEK(hell even two)💀💀💀💀like they will sit next to bro and he doesn't even lean on them😭🤚🏾

like he aint mad or nothin he just took it really literally😭

add anything you want like duhhh

BAND X CLINGY READER

teehee hii😈 you send me like 10 tiktoks in under a minute bro

BILL:

・He genuinely does love when your clingy

・Bro is clingy asf himself oml-

・Yet everybody needs alone time to themselves, and eventually he would just feel the need to be alone

・He really didn't want to hurt your feelings, he knew this was your way of showing your love, but he would eventually get overwhelmed.

・At first he'd try giving you small hints, like when he would say he wanted to go out for a walk. Yet everytime you wanted to come along and he didn't have the willpower to ask to go alone.

・He puts up with it for a little longer before he reaches a breaking point.

"M/N! Please just leave me alone for a second holy fuck-"

"Oh, okay."

・He'd feel relieved you weren't mad at him

・Yet after a day- hell maybe even a few hours- he's craving that touch again.

・Like sitting next to you on the couch just waiting for you to hold his hand or cuddle him VKYXWUHWVEE

・You took u alot of his time so now that you didn't hang out with him as much he felt surprisingly lonley.

TOM:

・Less patient than Bill.

・Babe he loves your touch, kissing you and holding you and snuggling you and-

・He won't admit it but he's actually quite clingy too.

・He really loves his alone time though, especially if its spent playing his guitar. He just likes to be alone to relax his mind

・Gives you a few subtle warnings, telling you he "has to clear his mind" and "needs to relax"

・Yet you would still cling to his shoulders like a koala. He loved you soso much and didn't want to hurt your feelings but he felt almost suffocated.

・Telling you he's going somewhere only for you to say "Ah, where are you going? Can I come too?"

"Can I go anywhere without you following me?!"

・lol ok

・You shrugged and walked away from him, he wanted to tell out your name and call you back but he also wanted time to himself

・Feels anxious when you don't hug or kiss him like you used to, he's afraid you'll break up with him or something.

GEORG:

・He'd get overwhemles pretty quickly

・No no, don't get him wrong, he absolutely loves hugging you. But sometimes he would rather hangout and talk instead of snuggling for hours.

・So if you ask to go out with him somewhere he doesn't care at all at first, actually encouraging you to come along with him.

・But, like Tom, he loves to be alone.

・It's just comforting for him to be in a quiet area with nobody else.

・Bro gives no warnings, just flat out says "Can you not touch me right now..?"

"My bad."

・He's happy you understand him and don't just yell at him. He's happy you respect his boundaries

・He finds himself missing your touch, how you would kiss him all over his cheeks and lips or how you would play with his hair when yo would cuddle.

・HE THINKS YOUR MAD AT HIMMMMMMMM

・He's kinda scared to ask you to start giving him attention again

・You seem fine so...shouldnt he feel fine too?

(he doesn't)

GUSTAV:

・KJHBECJJLEFCBLUIEHRCLKUWEBDCLJHWEDCMKWEDCBMJDCMJWEDBM

・He absolutely loves your affection, doesn't care if he's doing something he will stop and hold you if that's what you want.

・He just feels so safe and happy in your armssss

・Sometimes he just needs a little break, like maybe a few hours or a day to himself.

・He always feels bad about this though, he loves you more than anything and doesn't wanna push you away.

・He'd give so many hints because he doesn't wanna hurt your feelings omfg

・Eventually just tells you flat out, even though his heart is pounding.

"I just need to be alone, M/N!" "That's fine."

・He doesn't know whether to be confused or relieved, he's a mix of both.

・He misses your affection so bad wtf...

・Just wants to pick you up and cuddle while watching a movie, but he's waiting for you to make a move but you want to respect him and-

・its very confusing.

[count-albert-bleckula]

it's not spm day in my time zone quite yet but I DONT CARE it is in other places of the world hAhAhA

this image in general is just funny to me bc i have a singular image of him just saying 'm' for some reason so have these as well lol

it's kind of a niche image but i still find it inexplicably funny anyway

i also made this a year or two ago <3

i .......... will go to sleep at some point before i go spamming the tag with my old rambles and maybe some art pieces teehee

[fatuismooches]

SMOOOOCHES!!! hello sweetheart!! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

I hope you’ve been well since the last time I came on here!! (little update on my test results: everything came back clean except a few things came back indecisive but nothing to worry about! Chronic illness doesn’t seem to be getting any worse as of right now.) but asides from that here’s a little drabble as I was re-reading a few of my earlier drabbles from last year!

We know fragile!reader despises examinations and having to endure the painful injections every few weeks when Dottore batches up a new medicine. However, what if it backfires completely? Causing fragile!reader to be in an even weaker condition, barely able to move and clinging onto Dottore as tightly as they can. Perhaps running a fever, feeling miserable as they feel as if though their whole body is being pricked by thousands of needles as they shake from their fever. Dottore would try his best to not let his emotions show, but deep down he’s panicking and trying to figure out how he can cancel out the current “medicine” running through their body. To say Dottore feels guilt is an understatement, he knows that any medicine that they take can easily backfire quickly, but he never would’ve thought the symptoms would be so severe. :( once their condition stabilizes I like to think Dottore keeps them close for at least a few days, just to make sure everything is fine. Even if it means they’ll be all clingy to him, he’d rather they be safe and alive rather than induced in a coma once again.

A bit of fluff: I like to think Zandy definitely also tries to cheer you up after the whole ordeal. He’s not sure why you weren’t visiting or reading books to him anymore, other than that “you were busy with Dottore”, is what you had told him. But even the little baby knows you look more weaker (even if it’s been a few days, your condition had still worsened anyways). So perhaps he tries to draw you adorable silly drawings, and also show you his “safe” experiments. (Lest he get a scolding from Zandik or the clones again…)

‘m giving you so many chu chus n cuddles like always smooches hehe gonna make your cheeks all rosy pinky! <33 I hope you have a lovely day n spend it with a smile like always!

-from your dear boo boo bear 🎐 anon! ౨ৎ

HELLO MY DEAR 🎐 ANON!! Ahh I'm so glad your results were okay! I'm so happy for you and for getting through all of this! *hugs you* And I LOVE this brainrot! ❤️ I've always brainrotted about this idea hehe because angst of Dottore failing... teehee.

Dottore, being the skilled scholar he is, never fails to concoct new medications and treatments for you in hopes of creating something that sticks, along with the actual cure. These meds always go through a few rounds of testing, on his experiments of course (as you said before) but sometimes there is only so little that can be done. After all, your body is very different from the average person's. So, there have been times when the things he's given you didn't agree with your body very well, but they were never anything drastic. However, that was until this instance.

Dottore is a confident man. He's smart, he plans ten steps ahead, and things always go exactly as he orchestrated or predicted them to. So that's why he expected nothing different to be with this batch, maybe you'd have a few minor side effects that he'd note and so on, but he expected you to be fine, to then whine about how all of this was so much work, and he'd only hum at your complains to which you'd pout at. In the beginning, you seemed fine. Looked fine, your vitals were fine. But in a matter of minutes, when you got off the operating table, all of that changed, as dizziness and blurriness.

You tried to wave off Dottore's concern, observing your worsened state immediately, but your resistance was futile as your knees buckled, though your husband caught you before you could fall. Your skin was on fire, sapping away your strength as you couldn't even bring your hand up to stop your hacking and coughing. You try to speak but everything hurts far too much for you to muster your words, and you can barely process the muffled voices, footsteps against the floor, and hands running over your body (he must have called a few segments in too.) You pass out soon after, unable to see the blank look on Dottore's face, how his hands don't shake, how he is unfaltering and flawless in his steady work to counteract what he put in his body. Unable to see what only you can see - what he's really feeling underneath everything.

You don't wake up until a few days later, to which Dottore spent trying to figure out where he went wrong constructing this medication. If only he had been more careful, if he had run more tests, perhaps this may not have happened. Perhaps he wouldn't be the cause of your even weaker state. But even when you wake up, you just smile at him, assuring him that you're okay. You'd never blame him. Even though this was all this fault. He despises it sometimes, how you're so kind and forgiving. It's a weakness.

Sure, Dottore has a lot of work to be done, and having you around so much serves as a distraction to his work... but he'll let it slide. Just for a bit. At least it is a reminder to him that you're not permanently sleeping again.

Zandy, despite being left out of the loop many times, mostly due to your insistence that he not be burdened with your own troubles, can still sense something is wrong after a while. Yes, he's a child, but he's a rather smart one. And a very attentive one when it comes to his favorite person, you. He can see how much time you spend for "check-ups" with the segments and Prime now, far more than what it used to be... how you always look exhausted but force yourself to perk up and smile around him, assuring him you'll play with him "next time", even though numerous "next times" have passed. Zandy doesn't know the exact details, but that's okay, he can see what you're going through. So obviously he's going to try and make you smile! In the time he's not with you, he spends it doing all the things you like to do too. Drawing you two together of course, in a happy little house in Sumeru where the two of you play outside together all day with no worries! Maybe he even tried baking by himself to surprise you with something yummy (quickly stopped by a segment before he hurt himself or perhaps blew up the lab.) Maybe the child should take up sewing... maybe he can sew a little Puffttore squish ball for you! Oh, but you always told him to stay away from needles... well, it's okay if you don't find out until after the fact, right?

[hivemuthur]

Oh my lord.

When was the last time d&m Viktor got some?? So turned on by a bare leg teehee… also do you have an idea of who Viktor would’ve slept with prior to becoming ✨ wedded ✨ ? I know you’ve done some research but I know absolutely nothing. Was that common for men (of his status?) to “get around”?

Anyways. When’s the next chapter???? Hehehe

Also i desperately want Reader to receive some love. Yeah, she deserves to get dicked down but also like… a hug would be nice. Does this fic include at least one Viktor hug? God I hope so.

Oof, idk, you tell me? I don't specify it on purpose, you guys can have your Viktor a one-time-experienced gentleman or a freak. I mean, he will get freaky later, but he might've learnt it from books, the nerd he is :v

Per my research, it was generally very common for men to do some frick frackin' before getting married, depending on which class they were coming from. For aristocracy and gentry men, they would usually have a mistress, courtesan or just go to a brothel. It wasn't even kept a huge secret all the time, hence scandals. And given the nature of marriage being a business arrangement in the first place, this practice would continue throughout the marriage.

Middle and working class? Even more so, but here mostly through prostitution or with people of lower birth. A woman of high class would rarely engage into such arrangement, because you know, reputation and eternal damnation.

Here I've set House Talis as a part of working class, honest-to-God laborers, good reputation as tool makers who managed to sneak up class because of attention rising around Jayce and Viktor. So very similar to what's going on in Arcane itself. So, in general, I think it's highly possible for both of them to have experience outside of marriage.

And this brings me to Viktor's reactions to Reader - women of high class were highly fetishized. So, regardless of the act itself being widely available, it also mattered with WHOM it was available. Remember that a clean, well-dressed and pampered woman was a delicacy meant for men only of a certain class. What matters is not that it's A calf, but that it's READER'S calf. And yes, since they are married it makes no sense for Viktor to not just go for it, unless, of course, he feels unworthy :c Maybe she'll make him feel pretty enough to finally pull his dick out :v

[alynwrench]

Hiya hello hi :]

Anyways anyways anyways

I was going to ask for a ref for your Moon but.... From what my notes say... I believe your moon is just basically canon M- OH WAIT

Wait wait wait wait wait!

Do you have ANY Moon designs? Like any at all from any AUs?

Wait I just sound crazy... Woops

Sorry for the random questions. Um- So-

I'm asking for Moon designs because I'm planning on making a drawing that has a bunch of different Moon designs from different artists and I wanted to ask if you'd like to be a part of it

Sorry for just barging in as if you were my mutual

HELLO FRIEND no worries at all! I *do* have a few aus but theyre in my brain or very rough, so i have no good refs.. BUTTT me and @nebula-remnants have a shared AU, and per my request theyre sending in Moon's ref FOR me! SO THANK U FOR ASKING, TEEHEE

[bebx]

was tagged by @queereldritch (x) thank you! sorry I took so long

last song I listened to:

This is a Song for Miss Hedy Lamarr by Jeff Beck and Johnny Depp. honestly, I’ve probably listened to this song like a thousand times already

favorite color:

black

currently watching:

as in tv shows in general? Forever and Harrow, obviously, these shows mean so much to me (don’t ask how many times I’ve watched and rewatched them). shout out to the sweet and talented Ioan Gruffudd ❤️! as in show that is currently on air, that’ll be the second season of Loki series. can I also just say that Owen Wilson is a treasure?

last movie I watched:

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street aka one of my forever comfort movies. I mean I know my definition of comfort here may differ from most people’s definition of comfort, but the film has both Johnny Depp and Jamie Campbell Bower and they’re both just so brilliant in it so... anyway, don’t ask how many times I’ve watched it

sweet/spicy/savory:

depends. any of these are fine for me, so I guess it depends on my mood.

current obsession:

I mean Henry Morgan and Daniel Harrow are pretty much the only characters my brain thinks about these days. they’re so special to my heart

that being said, Henry Creel will always have a place in my heart too

relationship status:

teehee. you guess

last thing you googled:

this is going to sound pretty predictable for me but Harrow season 4 :)

no pressure tags: @doseofthreecuties @aragarna @doomreed @sullxo @foodiewithdahoodie @mobius-m-mobius @trekkitkat @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @mirilyawrites @sillylittlerock @elsbianism @okilokiwithpurpose @a-book-of-lost-things @scarie-carrie

[that-boozed-up-bastard]

"Testin' my social capabilities with this one, are we?"

"Name's Tyke, hello, hi. I'm a resident of Heaven! Somehow. I ain't gonna ask questions, we jus' go with it. Uh- ask me anythin', really! 'M not too busy most days; usually helpin' out in a karaoke clubs, singin', dancin', havin' a good time. Anyone want ta join me, feel free! I'll catch y'all lata!"

[MOD HERE hihihihih :3. Same mod of @vexter-the-comedian Brooklyn or Brook idm either one ^^. Here's some stuff

TAGS:

'what a heavenly sight- Tyke answers'

'yippee interaction :D- Brook answers'

'f e a s t- art/drawings'

'lookit- mutual stuffs'

RULES:

1. NO HARDCORE NSFW. This is a 16+ blog, so suggestive topics are OKAY. BUT PLEASE, NOTHING TOO EXPLICIT. If we're close, I don't mind some of that in dms :3 /silly

2. NO 'MAPS', 'ZOOPHILES', WHATEVER. ANTI-LGBT, RACIST, GO AHEAD AND FIND ANOTHER BLOG TO ANNOY. I don't tolerate that stuff here AT ALL

3. Send me asks wheneverrrrrrr ^^. I am currently in school so stuff MIGHT be a bit late so sorry in advance :<

Also VOICE CLAIM OMG :O -> Wayne Brady (aka the va of King Dice from Cuphead teehee)

Fanatic thingy I did in case anyone cares :333

ANYWAY THATS ABT IT :3. Uh, stay safe. Eat food, drink liquids, catch up with some ppl you might know, and have fun <3]

[MIGHT be updated every leap frog year who knows]