#cor is an asshole in this

[anxious4ever]

hey hey look at me look at me

NO

that is not what happened and if you dont speak polish let me tell you as somone who dose

Grzegorz Broun is a xcenothobic antisemetic islamophobic far right extime conservatist ultra nathionalist radial cathic sexist homothobic facist

he doesn’t care about palestine don’t let people tell you that

he hates everyone outside of his specific group chanses are he wants you dead i heard what he says he is an asshole

he was suspended almost imidietly his acions where condemned by everyone in the sejm even his own party put out staements distancing themself from him

[llycaons]

not to be mean about a sick and definitely neglected teenager but linton is like...the worst

[garbria]

Love your work! Always so good!

And just a curiousity: do you have any rare-pairs for Nyx and/or Cor that you also enjoy?

Thank you, anon! It means a lot to me that you like my work.

FFXV, and Kingsglaive in particular, is a small enough fandom, that I'm happy to see pretty much any content for Nyx and Cor.

But for me personally, the only other rare-pairs for Cor and Nyx that I enjoy enough to seek out and/or write for are DrauNyx, DrauCor, and DrauCorNyx.

Titus Drautos is my poor little meow meow. XD

Thanks for the ask, anon!

[babesway22]

“In Too deep” part 10

Vox x fem!reader// NSFW 18+ // 🔞minors do not enter 🔞

Summary: After a strange week you get offered a job working for hell's biggest asshole but does he have a soft spot for you? Or is he just using you?

The kitchen countertop was covered in a dusting of flour and remnants of broken eggshells. Frustrated murmurs escaped your lips as you haphazardly combined the ingredients, creating a messy yet committed scene as you set out to make a batch of pancakes. Throughout your life, you never had the opportunity to hone your cooking skills; your husband had never been supportive of much anything, often leaving you without even enough to put food on the table, money always scarce. Despite it all, you woke up determined to prepare something for Vox; he always approached taking care of you with such tenderness that it made you feel guilty for not putting in the same effort, even though Vox preferred it that way.

“Fuck,” you cursed, wiping the back of your hand across your forehead and staring down at the lopsided plate of pancakes.

“What have we here?” Vox’s raspy voice called out behind you, making you turn and walk into his embrace, his long, warm arms holding you tightly to his bare chest as if you could slip away from him. You found yourself gazing up at him, still reeling from the realization that he was finally yours. "I tried making pancakes, but they didn't turn out well," you confessed, gently extricating yourself from his embrace. With a swift motion, you poured him a steaming cup of coffee, the swirling steam creating a mesmerizing dance in the air as you handed it to him.

"What?" you chuckled, hardly able to catch your breath, as you looked at his perplexed and amused expression.

“You just," he set his mug of coffee down on the counter and strolled over to where you were standing, enveloping you in his embrace again. With a gentle touch, he lifted your chin, his fingers delicately sweeping away the smudge of flour dusting your forehead. "You have a little something right here," he murmured, his warm breath grazing your skin. You gazed into his eyes, mesmerized by their deep crimson color as they carefully examined your features. A soft chuckle escaped him when he noticed your prolonged stare.

"You're so hot," you complimented, laughing internally at your own choice of words.

"Poetic," he chuckled teasingly, letting you go. "You know, I was thinking," he paused to clear his throat, observing you closely as you started arranging the food on a plate, accidentally spilling syrup on the counter.

“Mhm,” you replied, not looking up from your mess.

“I’d like to take you on a date; we've never really- thank you,” he said, graciously grabbing the offered plate. “We’ve, uh, never really had a proper, romantic date,” he smiled nervously, sitting across from you at the table.

"Who would have thought I'd hear you use the words 'romantic' and 'date'?" you teased, taking a big bite, enjoying the sweet and salty combination of butter and syrup.

"Turns out, I'm full of surprises," he responded with a mischievous smile, savoring each bite of the food as a satisfied groan escaped his lips. “These are good, doll.” His piercing red eyes met yours, their intensity always sending a rush of fluttering butterflies through your stomach.

“I'm pleased you like them," you murmured, feeling a warm blush spreading across your face. Every interaction with him seemed to carry an air of intimacy now, making your heart beat faster. In turn, he felt the same, his breath catching as he gazed deeply into your eyes and softly whispered, “Beautiful,” His focus on you interrupted when Cor gently knocked on the door and entered the room.

"Good morning, sir and madam," he greeted with a nod, stepping forward to stand before you. His smile lit up his face, reaching his bright blue eyes as he addressed each of you with warmth and respect.

“What?" Vox's eyebrows furrowed as he asked, his tone filled with annoyance; without waiting for Cor's response, Vox shot up out of his chair, “FUCK,” he cursed, abruptly interrupting Cor, whose mouth was held open to speak, ultimately closing it with a hearty chuckle at Vox's sudden reaction.

“Did he miss another meeting?” you said playfully, your eyes following hungrily as vox's shirtless form disappeared into the bedroom.

"Indeed, he has a history of such behavior. How have you been feeling?" Cor inquired, his bright blue eyes full of vitality, turning his attention toward you.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment as you looked into his eyes. With a genuine smile, you confessed, "This is the best I've ever felt." His warm expression mirrored your own, creating a moment of genuine connection with your dear friend. As Vox muttered curses and hopped on one leg through the bedroom, both of you turned to look at him. He was slipping on his dress shoe and holding his jacket between his teeth. "How late?" he asked, his voice muffled by the fabric.

"Approximately 15 minutes," Cor stated, glancing down at his watch with a look of precision and assurance.

“Fuckinggoddamnit,” Vox cursed, slipping his jacket over his broad shoulders and walking briskly to stand in front of where you were seated. “I gotta go, baby, date tonight, okay?” he nodded, bending down to kiss you tenderly, his lips lingering before he tore himself away. “I love you; thank you for breakfast,” He turned sharply on his heel, with Cor obediently following closely behind. The heavy door closed with a loud thud, enveloping the room in a peaceful and comfortable silence, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

**************

Vox rolled his shoulders back as he let out a deep sigh, “Speak up, will you,” he asked, observing with a lack of amusement as the diminutive demon stumbled over his words, his voice revealing nervousness as he struggled to hold eye contact, repeatedly averting his gaze downward as he spoke about his proposed deal. The delivery lacked the confidence and vigor that Vox typically favored. Overall, the behavior did not sit well with him: a sneer curling his lip, revealing razor-sharp teeth. To add to the frustration, the meeting was utterly pointless, having already reviewed all the material just hours before. However, it was important for the company's image to accept input from outsiders, so he begrudgingly sat in the meeting, only half-listening. On the bright side, it wasn't a bad idea, but Vox would never admit it. He always craved the upper hand, his ego too hungry to acknowledge that someone else might have better plans. So, Vox allowed his mind to wander to you, always to you. He couldn't get you out of his mind if he tried; your quiet moans and whimpers when you came around his cock, your soft lips on his, your effortless way at making him feel at ease; shit, he’d be deceiving himself if he claimed that it wasn't impacting his job performance. Becoming increasingly forgetful and more easily irritated when you're not around.

“S-so, what do you think?” the demon's voice cut in, drowning out his thoughts.

“It's not bad," Vox boomed as he reentered the conversation, his commanding voice resonating throughout the large conference room. "There are a few things that need to change for me to get on board," Vox continued, his tone laced with arrogance. "I’ll have my assistant draft a new contract with a proposal for 20% of the gross profit and your name discreetly included in the fine print," Vox declared calmly as he stood up and began pacing in front of the demon, his arms folded neatly behind his back.

"I...I suppose," he stammered, his voice faltering as Vox's loud and commanding tone cut him off mid-sentence.

“Greatttttt,” vox beamed, his grin so sharp that it reached his eyes, creating a menacing expression as he grabbed the smaller man's shoulder forcefully, causing him to flinch in pain. Vox's expression turned serious as he leaned in and spoke dryly, "I'll have it sent over today, buddy. See your way out." With that, he dropped his smile and pushed through the conference room doors, leaving the demon standing there, contemplating every life choice that had led him to this moment.

As Vox entered the bustling hallway, he watched his and your assistants scurry around him with urgency. Suddenly, Cor appeared by his side and matched his brisk pace, his long strides creating a sharp contrast to the smaller assistant's shorter steps.

“Sir, I have the information you requested," Cor said, slightly out of breath as he struggled to keep up with the overlord.

Vox's gaze remained fixed ahead as he inquired, "And?" Impatience tinged his voice, his attention already shifting to the next matter at hand.

"Well, it seems as though," Cor cautiously scanned the dimly lit hallway before continuing hushedly, "it isn't possible, sir. There have been reports of rumors circulating about Lucifer himself bestowing the ability for sinners to bear children, but..." Cor's voice trailed off as Vox cast a stern glance in his direction.

“And what of the item I asked you to get?” he murmured, swinging open his office doors.

Cor nodded and closed the heavy oak doors behind them, enclosing the room in a cocoon of silence. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. With a slight bow, he offered it to Vox, who accepted it with his large hand.

"excellent. Thank you," Vox murmured, tucking the box into his pocket. He settled into his opulent chair, and with a snap of his fingers, the room was awash in an azure glow as the array of monitors on the desk sprang to life.

"May I speak frankly, sir?" Cor inquired.

"Of course, I would expect nothing less. What's on your mind?" Vox's attention remained fixed on the monitors.

"Sir, I'm absolutely thrilled for you. I honestly never imagined that this day would arrive," he exclaimed with a beaming smile.

Vox finally met his faithful assistant's gaze with a loud huff. "Thanks," Vox replied sarcastically. "And she hasn't said yes yet, so don't get your hopes up because I have no idea what I'm doing, as far as, uh," he gestured above his head, hoping the words would come to him.

“Proposing?” Cor asked, raising his eyebrows.

“That,” Vox muttered softly, his hands dropping to his lap with a thud, his gaze irresistibly drawn back to the monitors.

"Ah! Well, you just need to express to her how much she means to you and share what you envision providing for her, and the rest will naturally fall into place. Oh, and don't forget to get down on one knee, sir, and present the ring," Cor said with a smug smile.

"I'm fucked,” Vox sighed.

********

"Would you look at that? A date? He should've asked you out ages ago, but that's my opinion. He doesn't seem to have a romantic bone in his body. Or wires? I dunno what that freak has. I can't understand what you see in him," Velvette sneered, her hand resting on her tiny hip.

"He's been really good to me, anyways," you huffed, pushing stray strands of hair away from your face. "I just need some help picking out an outfit," you added, following Velvette as she elegantly moved around the luxurious dressing room.

“Right,” Velvette nodded thoughtfully, running her manicured fingers through a rack of elegant, luxurious dresses. "I have a new collection of lingerie that would be perfect underneath. It's classy but with a hint of slut. You know what I mean?”

“I don't-” you began, snapping your mouth closed as she shoved a complete outfit into your hands.

“Dressing rooms over there, go on,” she shooed you away, mild annoyance on her features. As you stepped out a few moments later, you held the front of the dress tightly, then turned your back to her, offering her the opportunity to zip it up.

"I'll be," she snorted, spinning you around to face her. You looked down, adjusting the fabric to smooth out any wrinkles. "What? Is it too much?"

"Vox picked the right one, I'll tell ya. You look stunnin', all thanks to me, of course," she added with a wicked smile. It was evident that every one of Vee's egos had been clearly inflated.

After choosing the dress and lingerie combo, you allowed Velvette to box it up for you for later and busied yourself for the rest of the day, finding a couple of your new assistants on Vox’s floor, deciding on watching them work, correcting them when necessary, and even helping to answer a few strange calls.

"I thought I told you, no more work," Vox whispered into your ear from behind, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine and a tingling sensation to your stomach. You closed your eyes, trying to suppress a moan.

"Well, I'm bored, so deal with it," you said, your voice taking on a sultry yet determined tone.

"Can't have that now, can we, doll?" he murmured, not caring that he was interrupting you teaching two now petrified assistants.

"Vox," you said, turning to face him, his tall body caging you into the desk, his arms placed protectively on either side of you.

“Fuck off,” he growled to the two male assistants, his eyes watching them as they stumbled from behind the desk, busying themselves elsewhere.

You playfully expressed mock indignation, taking hold of the top of his dress shirt and playfully fiddling with the button. "How rude," you teased.

"It's all part of my charm," he remarked, his devilish grin spreading contagiously, eliciting a giggle from you.

“Mhm, so, what time is this date?” you asked.

“Well, it's the afternoon now, let's say 8 pm; I should be done with everything by then,” he sighed, allowing his eyes to roam hungrily up and down your body.

“Where are you taking me?” you inquiresd, blush spreading across your face making you turn you away to hide it.

“Look at me,” he growled, the vibrations from his chest making you feel warm and fuzzy. Your eyes met his, the glow from his crimson eyes making you clench your thighs together, a movement he noticed. Picking you up in a quick movement and throwing you over his shoulder, he slapped your ass, making you yelp loudly; his throaty, hoarse chuckle escaped from his lips as he strode down the hallway, shooting a menacing glare at anyone who dared to meet his gaze.

“Be a good girl and be quiet, doll. People are trying to work,” he said, his usual arrogance filling your ears.

“Fuck you, Vox,” you placed your hands on his back, propping yourself up, scoffing at all the people staring at you as you passed.

“Obviously,” he chuckled to himself, kicking open the heavy wooden doors of his office with one foot, causing them to swing wide. After stepping inside, he forcefully slammed the doors shut, making sure to lock them securely this time. He strode across the room and sat in his chair, gently lifting you off his back and settling you onto his lap, paying no heed to the disapproving look you shot as you brushed the hair out of your face.

“Hello baby,” he smiled, cocking his head to the side and using one finger to push you back untill you were laying on his desk, your legs still wrapped around him.

“Thought you were busy?” you asked, sucking air through your teeth as he pushed your shirt up, the cool air hardening your nipples.

His voice took on a dark, hushed tone as he uttered, "For you? Never." his hands closed around your hips, pushing you down onto him.

“Vox,” you sighed, arching your back off the desk, moaning loudly when his lips closed around a nipple, the warmth and soft sparks from his mouth making you soak your barely there underwear.

“No skirt today, fucking shame,” he whispered, his lips closing around the other nipple, his hands lifting your ass up, yanking the tight fabric of your pants down until you were exposed. “I'm addicted,” he spoke Into your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in the valley between your breasts. Sitting back up, his fingers teased the thin strip of fabric that covered your cunt, a long finger slipping in, making you cry out.

“Regrettably, I'll have to keep this brief as I'm due for another meeting in just 10 minutes," he said, his voice tinged with restraint as he added another finger, your moans driving him to insanity.

“I'll take everything you give me,” you whined.

“Shit,” he hissed, the sound of his pants being undone, making your chest rise and fall faster, the intense desire blazing inside you like an uncontrollable wildfire.

“Fuck me, Vox, fuck me,” your loud cries pathetic, all for him. Pulling your underwear to the side, he grabbed onto your hips and thrust in, filling you beyond what you could take, but your body would always open up to him.

“Yesssssss,” he snarled, slamming you repeatedly onto him, lewd wet slaps filling the office that likely were spilling into the hall, but you both couldnt find it in yourselves to care, the ecstasy overcoming you both.

“Damn baby,” he gritted through his teeth, a strong arm lifting your body off the desk so you were sat up in front of him, his lips hungrily finding yours. “Im gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, Vox,” you panted, your arms finding leverage around his neck, allowing you to slam down onto him, the sharp drop of your hips making the air leave your lungs.

“Fuck yes,” he growled, his large hands grabbing onto your ass, guiding you down as your hips met his, your clit rubbing onto the hem of his open pants.

“Vox,” you screamed, an orgasm ripping through you violently, your body vibrating with intense pleasure, “oh my god,” you panted, hands digging into the skin in the back of his neck, making him nip your bottom lip.

“God can get fucked,” he growled menacingly, his hands driving you down onto him harder, making tears well in your eyes at the overstimulation.

“I love you,” you began to repeat, the burning of another orgasm tingling in your lower abdomen.

“You know I love you, baby. You gonna cum again?” he chastised, a devilish smirk spreading across his face. You began whimpering, looking down between your bodies, the sight of him disappearing in and out of your soaked cunt too much, another orgasm sending blissful shockwaves of pleasure down your spine, gripping him so tightly that he had to slow his thrust to push through the tightening muscle. His loud curses were next, his head flung back as he spilled Into you, one final slam of your hips onto him, and he stilled, his chest heaving as loud pants left him.

“How's that for a quickie?” you laughed, patting his chest until he brought his head back up.

“I’m late, but it's worth it,” he murmured. Looking behind you, he checked the time on one of the monitors and then pulled you to his chest, placing a soft kiss into your hair. Leaning back up, you glared at him.

"What?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Stop frightening my assistants. You rely on them, and so do I. Understand?" you admonished, pointing a finger in his direction, yelping as he clasped it firmly.

“Your assistants just heard you getting fucked by their boss,” The room echoed with his boisterous laughter as he playfully teased you, savoring the sight of your surprised and bewildered expression.

“You're such an ass,” you scolded, wincing as you pulled yourself off him, grabbing your discarded pants and shimmying them up your wobbly legs.

“So I've been told, dollface," his usual cocky facade was back, the one that first captured your heart. "I gotta go," he lamented, quickly fixing himself up. "8 pm, for the date, i’ll come find you," he said, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your lips, leaving you feeling lovesick.

“date. 8 pm. Got it,” you whispered, staring into his crimson eyes.

I'm so close to finishing it! I'm genuinely having the hardest time letting this story go as it's my first fic, but chapter 11 will be it, guys.

As always, I am tagging the wonderful souls that have interacted with me the most:

@annakade @lil-glum @vvzhyxx @demenica

[aliwritex]

BLUE LIKE THE SEA pt.2 yt22

AZUL DA COR DO MAR

summary: brazilian!reader x yuki. part two of: Your friends want you to get together with Yuki so they plan a whole trip just for you to see each other again.

warnings: fingering, oral (fem rec), protected sex (wow) pure female pleasure

wc: 2k

notes: after a total of three people asking for this here it is. i am writing for the requests but this was already done so i rather post it now. enjoy!

You decided to take a long shower – a cold one at that – and wash your hair to relax. Yuki could hear the water hitting the tiles through your bedroom door as he checked, once in a while, if you had finished. When he heard the water stop and the glass door open he ran to his own room for a shower too, calculating that you’d have time to get dressed while he did. Minutes later he was knocking at your door.

“Come in” you said, making your bed. Yuki stood at the door for a couple seconds, eyes fixated on you. “cat got your tongue? or did you just forget what excuse you were gonna use to come in here?”

“You’re a tease” he blushed.

You nodded, a slight chuckle leaving your lips. “Come in, you can sit, just finishing some things.” you said as you walked back into your bathroom. “How are you liking it here?”

“It’s nice. Very warm, more than são paulo. I like it.” yuki really tried to concentrate on what he was saying but he had gotten a glimpse of you putting lotion on your legs from the open bathroom door and you had this god damned shorts and tank pajama set.

Of course the set was strategically picked but he wasn’t innocent either, showed up to your door wearing only sweatpants, his tanned chest and messy hair still damp from the shower. It was safe to say you were driving each other insane. He just wanted to be inside of you and watch you squirm under him.

You walked to the edge of the bed, standing in front of him, between his legs. “Stop looking at me like this”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to touch me and fuck me but won’t actually do it.” you rested your hand on his cheek, he leaned onto it.

“Do you want me to touch you and fuck you?” he teased, testing the waters as if somehow he still didn’t realize you were down bad for him. His chin now resting on the exposed slit of your stomach as hands rested on your hip bones and he maintained the eye contact, waiting for your response.

“Since you took me to your stupid hotel room and refused to do it.” you answered, fingers combing his hair back.

“ ‘M sorry I just didn’t want to be the type of guy that takes you out to dinner just to fuck you. And you were drunk, I couldn’t do that to-“

“Just shut up” you leaned down to kiss him, your hand still on his face and he stretched the most he could, chasing your lips. His hands on your waist traveled down, going past the waistband of your tight shorts, cupping your ass only to feel your thin thong on his fingertips. Feeling unhinged he snapped it against your skin, making you feel the sting right in your asshole. You gasped into the kiss, a small smile adorning your face now. He took advantage to pull away from your lips and make you stand up straight as he kissed your stomach, his fingers lifting up your top and budging it up right under your boobs.

Yuki rested his chin back on your stomach as his fingers reached your shorts “Can I?”

You nodded, feeling his hands go back inside your shorts and drag them down till they fell to your ankles. As you stepped out of them his middle fingers reached for the visible wet spot on your pink underwear, tightly circling it. He pulled you closer, hugging the back of your thighs so he was face to face with your cunt, he could practically smell your arousal.

You reached for the thin side of your underwear and pulled them down, making him pull his hand away and reconnect it immediately to your naked cunt.

“Need to get my mouth on you. Can i?” he looked up.

“Yes, yuki, anything you want, just please do something” He stood up from the bed, turning you around with a hand on your waist, making the back of your legs hit the bed.

“Lay down then”

And you did, he crawled over you, telling you to lay against the pillows and spread your legs so he could lay between them. Yuki smiled before hooking his arms under your legs and pulling you closer to his face. He kissed and sucked on your thighs, leaving a mark on the inside, earning a unsatisfied groan from you but it was soon replaced by a sigh when he placed a kiss right on top of your clit. His tongue licked up your slit, stopping at your clit and circling it before going all the way down again and poking at your hole. Your hands go down to his hair, fingers locking on the damp strands as his mouth slowly moved to your clit, sucking your lips on the way up.

He focused his mouth on your clit as his fingers made their way to your entrance, teasing with circles and poking before making their way in. He already knew, from earlier, what he could do to you with just his fingers, but now, with the help of his mouth, he was sure to drive you insane. Yuki took his free hand up your body, soft touches to your waist making you shiver and squirm, his hand reached for your boob, going under your thin top and tugging on your nipple. With his arm now against your chest he could feel how you started to heave when he curled his fingers up to your cervix. Your stomach started to tense up when he pulled his lips away from you and blew directly on your clit just to tease you.

“Yuki, please” you literally whined

“What do you want, baby? Tell me” he asked between kisses on your thighs.

“Don’t stop, please” you said, pushing his head back down to where you needed him.

He smirked against your skin, satisfied with how desperate he had gotten you. His lips kissed down to your clit again, immediately starting to suck on it, now determined to get you to cum for him, and you did. As soon as he sped up his fingers your legs tensed up around his head and the flick of his tongue made you fall apart. Yuki fingered you through your orgasm, kissing up your stomach all the way to your chest, where he pulled your shirt down to reveal your perky boobs. He left pecks all around your nipples before kissing you, your hand grasping at the hair on his neck as your tongue explored his mouth, begging for more.

“Are you gonna let me suck you off?”

“Maybe another time, wanna be inside you now” you nodded, letting him know you wanted it too. He reached in the pocket of his sweats, pulling a condom from it.

“You fucking slut.” you grinned and slapped his arm, squeezing it when you realized how thick he had gotten since the last time you saw him.

“Better be a slut than unprepared” he smirked as he got up to get rid of his clothes and put it on.

The second he was ready you pulled him back on top of you, kissing all over his neck as he aligned himself to your entrance. You smiled when his hair tickled your forehead as he pushed himself in, before he bottomed out and his head dropped to the crook of your neck and a soft groan left his lips. Your mouth fell open when he gave one more push of his hips to ensure he was all the way in before starting to build up his thrusts. In a couple of minutes he was pounding into you, small but strong movements that made his cock brush against your cervix, the soft moans that left your lips driving him insane.

Your hands were on him, one pushing his hair off his face and the other holding on to his shoulder. His cold chain was dangling in your face as he hovered you so you bit in down, stoping it from hitting your nose but it didn’t last long. Your mouth dropped open when he took his hand down back to your clit, toying with it between his fingers. You started to feel overwhelmed by the stimulation, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten as you got more desperate by the second. Your hands were now all over his back and neck as he hurried his face in your own, kissing and nibbling on it. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer and possibly making it harder for him to fuck into you but the last thing you could do at that moment was think.

“Yuki, ‘m close, not gonna last long.” you whined.

“Got you, cum for me” he whispered against your lips, kissing them to shut you up before anyone heard you.

You really tried to keep it in but he was fucking you so deep that you just couldn’t, your moans kept spilling into his mouth and he couldn’t resist pulling away to hear you whispering his name and how good he was making you feel. You came almost aggressively, back arching off the mattress as Yuki kept fucking you through it, slower so he could watch your face.

“Fuck, Yuki, shit, so fucking good” you breathed out. You pulled him in for another kiss, your legs weak around his waist but still holding him so he wouldn’t move.

Your clenching around him had his orgasm so close, he just needed a little more. So he pushed your legs apart and started thrusting into you again, you couldn’t really control your volume after two orgasms so he covered your mouth with his hand till he was done. Yuki came in the condom, a couple grunts coming from him as his head fell to your shoulder and his body stilled and dropped on top of yours.

You hugged him, leaving a kiss to the side of his head after he left one behind your year. He rolled off you, both of you groaning when he pulled out, and you reached for his cock, taking the condom off of it and swiping your finger on his tip, collecting a bit of his cum to taste. He watched as you took the tip of your finger to your mouth and licked it humming when you caught his taste in your mouth.

“Good?” he teased and you nodded, blushing at the way he looked at you “Don’t go all shy now”

“I’m not, just the bliss of the orgasm”

“Good one, then?” he teased, pulling you in closer to his side, making you tangle your legs in his.

“Are you always this cocky when you make a girl come?”

“Just the ones that tell me i’m ’so fucking good’” he smiled, pulling the blanket to cover your bodies.

“You think they’re still up? I’m dying for a glass of water right now”

“I’ll get it, want some too.”

You watched as Yuki got up and put his sweats back on. If anyone looked at him they would tell right away that he had sex; his hair was a mess, his face was flushed and his back was red from your hands and nails, a hot look in your opinion but you really hoped no one caught him on the way to the kitchen.

He came back with two glasses of water, handing you one and resting the other on the bedside table. Yuki watched as you downed the cup of water in one go, feeling slightly cocky at it. “Want more?” he asked, handing you his own this time.

You take it and drink some more, finally satisfying your thirst and thanking him. “Did anyone see you?”

“No, they’re still outside playing pool”

“Don’t you wanna join them?” you asked as he settled on the bed.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no, it’s not that. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to do this whole thing just because we fucked, it’d be totally fine if you wanted to leave, you know?”

“So you want me to stay?”

You nodded as he got under the blanket and moved closer to him, tangling your legs together and laying your head on his shoulder. “Is this okay?” you asked, biting then kissing right where his jaw met his neck. He nodded, letting his hand snake down your back and rest on your ass.

[milky-fixx]

misunderstanding

childe x reader // genshin impact.

—when it comes to childe, it's difficult to define what you two are. or is it? maybe you've been misunderstanding him this entire time.

You didn’t even think you and Childe were anything.

After all, neither of you have bothered to label the strange arrangement you have. Sure, he likes to off-handedly mention you visiting his family in Snezhnaya whenever he’s around, and yes, he does often joke about starting a family, but you thought those were just friendly things. Something a family man like Childe would say to any fuck buddy.

(Though in hindsight you suppose there are things that make it seem like more than just that. Like the fact that he came over to make you borscht when you were sick, even if he'd just come from a month-long Fatui excursion. And fed it to you by the spoonful, jokingly commenting about being by your side "in sickness or health." Or the fact that apparently even Teucer knew who you were, and kept saying he was excited to meet his "big brother's girlfriend."

But surely, surely these could all be misunderstandings, right? Childe hardly seems like the relationship type.)

From your perspective, you and Childe are nothing more than two comrades who spent time battling and fucking it out. Nothing more and nothing less. But when you step out of your room in Inazuma, intent on picking up some tonkotsu ramen for dinner, you're certainly not expecting to open the door and for your entire field of vision to be blocked.

You blink.

Upon closer inspection, it looks like a ginormous whale plushie, nearly as tall as you. Big enough to fill your doorway.

You poke your head out the door, looking around. There's no one in sight.

After lugging the whale plush into your room—it really was a ridiculous size, certainly something a child would love--a note affixed to its fin catches your eye.

You open it, only to snort. It's an invitation.

Dinner with me, tonight? Be at Uyuu Restaurant by 7.

(You don't even need to ask who left it. The whale is his signature animal after all.)

“Did you like the present?” he asks you as you slip into the seat across him. The restaurant is alive tonight, bustling with customers, mostly couples.

"Was it a reference to our first fight?" He seems puzzled by your question, cocking his head slightly. "You know... when you summoned a giant Hydro whale to slam me into the ground?"

He laughs good-naturedly. "Oh, so you do remember!" You glare at him, pouting as you swipe some of his tempura. He already ordered everything on the menu. Classic Childe; spares no expenses to get the best. "I didn't pick it in jest, though. I'm... surprised you remember our first battle. It seems so long ago."

"How could I forget? It knocked me out, you asshole."

He laughs again, and you decide to drop the banter, at least a little. "It is a cute gift, though," you say, softer now. "It'll help me make much fonder memories with whales."

A wide grin stretches his face. "Of course. Only the best from Snezhnaya’s Number One Toy Seller.” He says it so earnestly you can't help but laugh yourself.

"Of course. How could I forgot you're not only the big bad Harbinger, but also a hard-working toy seller. And you have enough time to keep a lonely, little thing like me company? Truly, a man with many commitments."

"Ah, but you're forgetting." Something in his demeanor changes. He shifts slightly in his seat. "The last one is just as important as either of the first two, especially now--"

The waitress arrives with your drinks, setting down sake along with two small cups. You thank her, looking up to notice that Childe is staring at you peculiarly, with that same serious intensity he often slips into, so unlike the playful side he often shows to others.

“That necklace you're wearing..." he says suddenly. "I haven't seen it before. Where's it from?"

"Ah." You grasp the pendant. It's a simple but elegant necklace of cor lapis, Rex Lapis' symbol engraved into it. "Zhongli gave it to me. After the whole... Liyue fiasco. As thanks."

Childe's stare turns peculiar. "Have you... been wearing it since then? I haven't seen it on you."

"No! Just occasionally."

"Occasionally, huh," he repeats, before bringing his thumb to his chin, seeming to think. You pick a piece of karaage off his plate, munching. You think you catch him muttering something about "that sly old man making his moves," but snort, deciding to let him work through whatever he's thinking.

He looks up suddenly, as if he remembered something suddenly.

"I did get you another gift."

You swallow roughly, nearly choking on the piece of chicken. "Another—Childe, you didn't have to! My room can't fit anymore plushies."

"It's not a toy," he says, reaching into his back pocket, before pulling out a plush velvet box. He opens it, showing you an intricately designed silver necklace, set with bright rubies.

“I was thinking... we could match," he says, pointing to his ruby earring.

You're stunned speechless for a beat. "Childe..." Matching jewelry? The plushie? The dinner? While he's always spotted you food, and you've never thought twice about it, the gifts are a lot. They seem to hint at a more serious relationship between you two. "Are you sure you want to—"

"I..." He runs a hand through his hair in agitation. "It doesn't go well with Zhongli's gaudy gift though."

“Gaudy… you mean the necklace? Well, I could wear both.”

His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I dunno... I think red suits you better."

"Childe..." You stare him down. "Don't tell me you're jealous. Over a piece of jewelry."

He shrugs offhandedly, toying with his rice. Hilariously, his chopstick skills are still terrible; he's spilled rice grains all over his table. Yet he pretends he's still eating it.

"Maybe you could wear the necklace off whoever you're thinking about. You know. As a sign."

"I'm not thinking about Zhongli right now," you say in exasperation. "Are you serious?"

He locks eyes with you.

"It's a gift from a friend! Of course I'll wear it."

"Then..." He pauses. "Then do you mind wearing mine? Dear friend?"

You take off the gift you're wearing, and Childe stands up to help you latch the necklace on. Sitting back down, only then does he seem to relax into his seat, seeming much more at ease.

"I just think it suits you better."

"...You mean having your claim on me suits you better?" you say wryly.

"Exactly!"

You sigh.

Does he think you're Teucer, his little brother? Easily swayed by shiny objects? 

You eye the beautiful necklace he's gifted you, the way it seems to drape around your neck perfectly. He really did put a lot of effort into the gift.

Maybe he's right.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?" you say.

He shrugs off your complaints once more, seemingly back to his cheery disposition now that you're wearing his necklace. Now that you've chosen him, in a sense.

He truly is a piece of work.

"Also... this really isn't a way to ask me to be your girlfriend, you know."

Childe’s eyes widen. “Comrade…” Now he sounds exasperated. “You mean you didn’t know…? I'm not one for labels, but I thought we’ve been a thing this entire time!”

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 17

Welp. We are in the home stretch. I’m almost done writing the last chapter and then there will be a small epilogue. Thank you so much for sharing this ride with me on this one.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

*

Edie isn’t exactly sure when it started happening, but she began to notice little changes in her dad’s eating habits. Some times he would go for seconds if he liked it or he would keep some kind of fruit on hand to snack on.

But knowing her dad’s past also helped her notice when he would get that thousand yard stare or when he would jump at certain sounds. Knowing that he had walked through hell, not just once, but multiple times was like slotting in a piece of the puzzle you didn’t know was missing. And just watching all the other pieces that didn’t make sense before form a complete picture.

She knew that they had told her was only scratching the surface. Things they weren’t directly involved in but didn’t want to know. After she was told about their past Mr Munson gave her permission to dig into the incident surrounding the actual fucking lynch mob that was led by a psychotic basketball star.

What made her the angriest was that the asshole died in the earthquake and never had to deal with the consequences of his actions. That the town took that as liberty to just sweep it under the rug. The police chief quietly resigned two years later. No one that was involved in the witch hunt was actually punished for what they did to Mr Munson.

So she decided she was going to make a long distance phone call. A very long distance phone call.

“Miss Thing!” Lily Byers greeted cheerfully. “To what do I owe this totally awesome pleasure?”

“Cousin Itt!” Edie greeted back. “How’s it rocking, girlie?”

“You know,” Lily said, “as much as I love traveling the world, I got soo super jelly of your prom pictures. I’m trying to convince Mom to let spend the last year of high school with you.”

“Just say the word, Cousin Itt,” Edie said seriously, “I will deploy the puppy dog eyes.”

Lily laughed. “I’m not quite that desperate. Yet.”

“Duly noted,” Edie said. “Hey, I need a favor. But first how much do you know about your parents’ high school days?”

“You talking normal angst filled love triangles?” Lily ask slowly. “Or are we talking about nightmare fuel?”

“Nightmare fuel.”

Lily let out a slow breath. “I got ‘read in’ last year.” Edie could feel the air quotes from here. “I’m guessing you’re new to the ‘my parents are fucked up’ club?”

“About a month I guess,” Edie said with a sigh. “Me and Harri Munson. They tell you about what happened to his dad? Eddie Munson? Not the monster shit, but the normies fucking shit up stuff?”

Lily let out another long sigh. “Yeah. The witch hunt of the century.”

“Can you please explain why your mother and father didn’t expose the fucking town the way they did the Lab?” Edie asked pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“That is a really good question, Miss Thing,” Lily said. “And I think you just gave me new leverage against my parents over the whole high school senior year dealio. I’ll get back to you.”

“Love you lots!” Edie said.

“Love you more!” Lily replied and then hung up.

“You know,” a voice said from behind her, “that’s a pretty low blow, weaponizing your cousin that way.”

Edie whirled around to see her dad leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom. His arms were crossed over his chest, but he had an easy smile on his face.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop,” she said glaring at him.

“I just came to ask if you wanted pizza or kebabs tonight,” he said, his smile turning into a grin. “I did knock. A couple times in fact. But you were the one plotting world takeover with your bedroom door open.”

Edie flopped on her bed. “Is that one of the reasons we rarely get together, because we’d take over the world?”

Steve laughed. “One of many. One of many.”

Edie grinned. “I’m just correcting a miscarriage of justice is all.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked grinning back at her. “Knowing Lily Byers like I do, I fully expect an expose by the end of the week and formal apology from the city of Hawkins and the state of Indiana to Eddie by the end of the month.”

Edie pretended to toss non-existent long hair over her shoulder. “Good.”

Steve pulled her in for a hug. “I think the reason she didn’t is because of me.”

Edie pulled away slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I think she didn’t want to stir up feelings for Eddie after he left.”

“But he left three months after,” Edie insisted. “Why didn’t she say something then?”

“Our town was nearly destroyed,” Steve reminded her. “And the government had found a scapegoat in Henry Creel, got Eddie off and all this while Eddie was still in a coma from being nearly ripped to bits. She had a lot on her mind those first three months. We all did. And then he got a record deal, he was going to be famous. She probably didn’t want to make waves for him and ruin his chances.”

“Damn it,” she sighed. “Those are all really good reason not blow up the biggest scandal since the ‘gas leak’.”

“So maybe tell Lily to ease up a bit on her mom?” Steve asked.

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell, Dad.”

Steve sighed. He figured that was the answer, but felt he had to try. At least a little.

*

School was ending and Edie and Harri both had summer school. Mandy and Kenny were free, but then they were good in school and mostly liked by the teachers.

Their rich school was a bit backwards. Probably because it had only been built in the last decade, but Mr Pearson wasn’t the only teacher that turned their noses up at old money students like Edie. She had the misfortune to be old money, too. Her family’s wealth went back as far a century at least.

She wasn’t third or even fourth generation wealthy. Her great-great grandparents were stinking rich. They were among the few families to come out of the stock market crash and Great Depression relatively unscathed. It’s why Dad’s trust fund was so sought after.

A trust fund that only grew because he may not have had a head for numbers, he had a head for business. He knew when to pull out if something was failing and when to pour more money in if they looked on the verge of discovery.

But it meant that all the teachers thought that her dad didn’t earn having his daughter at their school. So they always went a lot harder on Edie then they did her friends. All three of which had parents that came from nothing or very little to make their wealth. Mandy and Harri were both children of rock stars. Kenny’s mom invented some kitchen gadget that had taken the world by storm and now was in nearly every house in the country.

Harri was only joining her in summer school hell because two of the credits he needed to graduation next year didn’t transfer over and he had zero desire to sit with sophomores and juniors his last year of school.

“They should standardize the curriculum across the country,” Harri grumbled, kicking at a rock on their way into school.

Edie sighed. She agreed with him, but if they had she wouldn’t have a summer school buddy to be miserable with.

“I hear that,” was what she said instead. “And you should be allowed to skip a class if you don’t want to take it. As long as you get two years of math, who cares if it’s just basic math. It’s like judging a fish by its ability to climb or however that quote goes.”

“Right?” Harri agreed. “Like if what you want to go into takes heavy math that sure, you do the advanced math, but if you’re going into art and the only math you’re going to need is fractions they shouldn’t have to force you into bullshit like that.”

They both had to take a math class and a science class, so they took the same ones so that they could at least have a study buddy.

“I hate that I have to do this,” Edie groused as she flopped down in a desk somewhere near the back of the class. “It means I can’t go to the gala this year.”

“Gala?” Harri asked, sliding into the desk next to hers. “What gala?”

“The biggest event my dad does all year,” she explained, resting her head on her hands and staring off into the distance dreamily. “He’s involved in a shit ton of charities, but this is his biggest. It’s like the it party of the year and everyone foams at the mouth for an invite.”

“So why can’t you go?” Harri asked.

“Because for everyone else it’s a one night event,” Edie said, “but for my dad it’s a week long thing just prepping for it. And because I have summer school, I can’t help him. His rule has always been that I’ve been too young and that was supposed to change this year. I was going to help out and get to go. But because I have this stupid shit, I have to spend the week at Mandy’s.”

“You’re nearly eighteen,” Harri protested. “Can’t you be left home alone?”

Edie sighed. “If it was about Dad being gone all the time, sure. But it’s not. It’s held at the house. Or rather the backyard. There are people coming and going all hours of the day and night. Setting up lights, preparing food, setting up tables. It’s a whole thing. And if I want to actually pass these classes...”

Harri winced. “You can’t be around all that shit...Point well and truly taken. So what are you going to do instead?”

Edie shrugged. “Normally Mr Lawrence lets Mandy have a party that night and we stay up late watching movies, but I think the Lawrences are going this year, so I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Harri opened his mouth to ask another question, but the teacher chose that moment to walk in and they were forced to pay attention to the class.

***

Part 18 Epilogue

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @trashpocket @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @mightbeasleep @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @trashpocket @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @steddie-as-they-go @lillemilly @callas-shitshow @bisexualdisastersworld @renaissan-vvitch @immortal-iratze @bookbinderbitch @cardigangoth @lilacrobin @nightmareglitter @nerdsconquerall @stxrcrossed186

[honeynclove]

twst Pokémon teams - heartslabyul

trey clover

thoughts: OOPS! all food! no but surprisingly he is a very consistent grass/fairy type trainer? Idk i kinda killed that tbh. Sure its the easiest theme i couldve gone for with him but i think it works??

cater diamond

thoughts: I STRUGGLED W THIS ONE N IDK WHY. idk a lot of ppl give him v super cutesy pokemon but i disagreed w that?? and then i turned around and gave him some cute guys so idk. Hed have em bc theyre popular on insta—- magicam. As cor the pthers i just thought hed like silly fellas like shuckle and wobbuf

riddle rosehearts

thoughts: i thibk rhe theming here is fairly obvious this time around 😭😭 but yeah Polteageist bc tea Flamigo bc Flamingo, Rapidash bc equestrian club, etc

ace trappola

thoughts: silly guys. i think all of his pkmn are ASSHOLES to him but sweet to other ppl. except deuce. they beef w deuce. his zorua is a menace and shoukd not be left alone.

deuce spade

thoughts: minum bc ace has plusle duh. AND THEN THE BLUE THEME WAS A HAPPY ACCIDENT HE WASNT SUPPOSED TO HAVE THAT MUCH BLUE 😭😭😭

[effervescentdragon]

Akira can we please have a Charlos forced soul bound with happy ending?

"That's not - that's not how it works, I..." Seb trails off, tilting his head half in horror, half in fascination. Carlos wants to punch him, and scream at him, and possibly cry. Mostly, he wants Seb to be able to fix this.

"Well, it's happened," Carlos bites back, forcing himself to turn his fear into anger. "Now help me fix it."

Seb is looking through him, though, deep in thought already. "I didn't think anyone would know how to do it anymore," he mutters. "There must have been something - a soul bond cannot exist unles there is a tether - I wonder if we look at the beginnings of the bond, maybe there -"

"Sebastian!" Carlos yells. It breaks Seb out of his contemplation, and his unnaturally blue eyes focus on Carlos. "I don't care about the theory! I don't care about tethers, or about the alchemy, or about - anything, really! I just want it to be fucking fixed!"

"You mean broken."

Seb's eyes widen. Carlos whirls around, cursing quietly in Spanish. He should have been able to feel Charles coming, but he didn't. That must mean their bond isn't proper. He must tell that to Sebastian. It may assist in the - fixing.

Charles leans against the door. Carlos is pretty sure his nonchalance is completely feigned. There is something in Carlos, in his chest, in his mind, in both and neither, something that flutters and feels exhausted, like it's on the verge of collapsing. There is an echo of a whisper of a heartbeat, and Carlos ignores it as best as he can.

"Do you not want the same?" he hears himself ask. Charles doesn't react immediately, but the fatigue in Carlos suddenly increases. Carlos flinches involuntarily. "I didn't mean -"

"It's the best thing for both of us." Charles interrupts his fumbling. "I don't know how we managed to form this bond, when we were only trying to organize a Ritual."

He's already turned towards Sebastian as he speaks, and Carlos can feel warmth and affection in his chest. It makes him want to scream even worse than the thought of their accidental fucking soul bond, because it so obviously isn't directed - because it's so obviously for Seb.

"Which ritual?" Seb wastes no time in asking, and Charles pushes himself off the door and crosses the room towards them. Carlos can feel how much that has cost him, and he suddenly feels like a complete asshole.

"The Cor Scrutor," Charles says, and Seb gasps. "I know, I know, don't fucking look at me like that," he says to Seb's disapproving face. "We need to know it for our testing anyway."

"Yes, in theory," Seb starts, and Carlos stops listening to their bickering properly and focuses on his breathing.

Charles took the brunt of hit of the backfired ritual upon himself. Charles was the one who was guiding the ritual, using Carlos' bigger strength to their advantage, to paint the scope of the magic in bright light and colour. Charles was the one who noticed something was wrong, and the one who alerted Carlos. Charles was the one who stepped in front of Carlos as their ritual circle dissolved into nothingness before exploding outward like a supernova. Charles was the one who went limp in Carlos' arms when he caught him after he fainted from absorbing that much concentrated Ether.

Charles was the one whose heart beat in Carlos' chest, right against his own.

Charles is also the one who looked like he was about to faint again, and Carlos is an asshole.

"Sit," Carlos says, interrupting the scowl-off between Seb and Charles, and pulls a chair out.

"What?" Charles asks. If Carlos couldn't fucking feel him everywhere, he'd buy the look of confusion on his face.

"Sit," Carlos repeats with emphasis. When Charles only stares at him, Carlos takes a deep breath and makes himself relax as much as possible and doesn't look away from Charles as he thinks Sit before you fucking pass out and Seb calls the Healers on us, and they will definitely notify the Inquisition.

Charles' eyes widen. He sits down without another word. Carlos looks back at Seb, who looks like he's about to solve a thousand-pieces of a puzzle in three moves, and prays he doesn't say anything about their obvious mind-speak (the fifth and final sign of a successful and strong mind bond, Carlos remembers ftom their notes, and then tries to forget).

"Right. Where were we?" Seb asks after a long second, and Carlos can feel how much Charles relaxes.

"At the circle we used," he replies, and Seb nods, and doesn't even look at Carlos when he steps closer to Charles and puts one hand on Charles' shoulder in reassurance. Charles' heart skips a beat in Carlos' chest, but after a moment he relaxes into Carlos' touch as he describes the markings in great detail.

(And if his own heart skips a beat in tandem with Charles', well. Their bond will be fixed soon, anyway, as soon as Seb and Charles figure out how to undo this mistake. No point in even thinking about it.)

[promscamera]

I'm so in love with Cor being the one who saved Prompto from the labs and it's not normal but I'm so obsessedddd

And like, any way is awesome!

Cor saved him and then raised him? Yeess

Or he saved him and Prompto's parents raised him and then Prom goes to train in the Crownsguard and Cor is all omg I'm so proud

Or Prompto's parents are assholes and Prompto has to live somewhere else and suddenty boom Cor the immortal is like 'I got it' and bonding

Or Cor managed to get him out but couldn't fully escape Niflheim with him and was forced to leave him behind/lost him. But he remembers the barcode number and one day they capture/find or whatever this guy from Niflheim with a barcode and of course it's the same and aahh feelings

Anyway, Cor and Prompto. Love it. I want it.

Anyone have any fic/blog recs? I need more! <3

[sirenium]

ID: 'This user bites sysmeds and queer exclusionists.' In grey Engraver's Old English text. The background is black, and to the left and image of a wolf barking is seen, separated by everything else by a grey border. End ID

'Shipcourse is stupid. Any side is welcome as long as you aren’t an asshole about it.' in dark, faded red Engraver's Old English on a black background. The text is outlined in a darker red. To the right, a GIF that starts off zoomed in on a motorcycle wheel, but zooms out to reveal Shadow The Hedgehog riding the motorcycle. The banner has two dark red bars, one on top and the other on the bottom, with a thinner bar separating the text and the GIF, End ID

Guys I made a carrd lmfao (link)

My sideblog (link) where I coin shit and make flags, and my otherkin sideblog (link). Our system blog (link).

Time for a long overdue introduction!

I'm Canis/Canid (you can always just call me 'Sirenium' if that's easier!). I am a namehoarder, as well as namefluid, so I tend to prefer different names at different times (I will attempt to stick to a certain pair of names per theme). I'm 19, have ADHD, and am autistic. My pronouns are in my bio, but for the sake of convenience my current preferred ones are it/its, they/them, cor/corpse, haunt/haunts, and hallow/hallows (among others). I cannot keep a consistent theme for the life of me, lol. I am transmascfem. I prefer to be referred to as a man or an entity, and am also xenic and agender. I'm a loveless, polyamorous girlfag lesboy, panaesthetic, and on the aplatonic and asocial spectrums. I am a biracial black individual.

My interests include, but are (just barely) not limited to, the Sonic franchise (I now have a specific tag for sonic related content. It's #random self indulgent sonic related post, and I went through and tagged [hopefully] every sonic related post with it. edit: I don't remember to use this tag much anymore, apologies), The Legend of Zelda, music, Warframe, and LGBTQ+/xenogender flags, history, and identities.

I have decided to lift my DNI. Be warned, however, that I use the block button frequently.

I will just tag self promotive posts with 'self promotion' because my previous custom tag was so fucking cringe/lighthearted

BYF (before you follow)

[Pt: BYF (before you follow) end pt]

Unless you give me a reason to block you, I see no reason to bar certain people from interacting with my posts (please note that if I go to your blog and am exposed to some dumbass take about mspec lesbians or something, that is typically grounds for a straight up block). Now that that's out of the way, let's move on.

Here, we believe that there's no such thing as an invalid queer identity, and this encompasses lesboys, m-spec lesbians, gaybians, and anything else that people hate for no reason. We are pro endo, believe that pronouns and presentation don't necessarily equal gender, anti capitalism (especially rainbow capitalism), pro-choice, pro self diagnosis, are of the opinion that PCOS can be an intersex condition (but honestly it's up to the individual to identify as such), queer isn't a slur (though I don't immediately jump to demonizing those who think it is, bc there are certainly older people who've had that word used against them in a derogatory way), xenogenders aren't transphobic, paraphile≠abuser, and more that I don't feel are necessary to state on this blog.

Stance on transID and radqueers (link). Since it apparently needs to be said, don't fucking derail my posts because of my stances on these things. It's not up for debate, especially on a random ass post. Your comment will be deleted and I will most likely block you, because in my humble opinion getting your panties in a twist about something unrelated to a post is obnoxious. Thanks!

What's this blog about?

[Pt: What's this blog about? End pt]

I don't even know anymore, man. There's stuff about being neurodivergent and queer, sonic shit, and whatever I feel like reblogging. Enjoy your stay.

Lastly...

[pt: Lastly... end pt]

I will block any exclusionists, TERFS/SWERFS, truscum/transmeds, or pro-lifers who touch my posts because frankly, I'm not interested in interacting with y'all (I will cave occasionally when I am extremely bored lmfao).

ID: 'This blog respects and supports all good faith identities, and is adamant about creating a space where EVERY queer person can exist as themselves.' In grey Old Engraver's English font on a black background. To the right, a wolf pack dogpiling is featured, and the image is separated by the rest of the banner by a dark and reddish border. Two borders, one on the top of the entire banner and the other on the bottom, are the same color. End ID

Thanks for reading. :)

Please note:

[pt: please note:. End pt]

I don't look at peoples DNIs before interacting all the time (banners are right there so like, obviously I check those. I'm talking about DNIs in bios or pinned posts). Please, if I'm included in your DNI because of my beliefs and identity, block me and/or message me to remove anything I've reblogged from you if you need to. It's basic human decency: I wouldn't want someone who fits any description on my DNI to interact with my shit, so it's only fair I provide that same respect to others (even if they're exclusionists or other people I generally don't like). Additionally, I'd rather handle situations like this with mutual maturity in the case that they happen. Thank you.

Also you can message me if you just don't want your stuff on my blog, btw.

I reclaim slurs, and there are posts that feature slurs on my blog. There's serious subject matter discussed here, and I don't add trigger warnings all the time. Please be careful if you are triggered by stuff like death, transphobia, etc..

I often don't make image descriptions for things I reblog, but I try to make IDs for things I make/post myself.

Quick warning: stuff about the Gaza war shit will appear on this blog every once in a while, though I hope to provide a space that is mostly void of reminders that humanity is horrible and people are dying for no reason. That being said, fuck off zionists I stand with Palestine.

[llycaons]

this bitch is crazyyyyy

[sparklecryptid]

Alright so @hamelin-born said something about the ‘Ardyn did in fact curse the line of Somnus’ royal bastard au au and how it would be interesting if the curse was forgotten. And then my mind went haywire.

also tagging @raven-6-10 for reasons

-

Ace will not say he hates that he is standing in front of his father. He will not say that he hates it only because it was his choice that led here. It was Ace’s choice to reveal himself to Cor and thus trigger a chain of events that have led to him standing in front of Regis and Noctis in a highly secured room in the Citadel.

Can’t let the public know you have a bastard child, Ace thinks bitterly and waits for the news to process.

“You’re saying we’re cursed?” Noctis sounds bewildered and Ace can’t blame him. Ace himself didn’t believe it at first until his Uncle had recited the curse and Ace felt the magic of it bounce off of him.

Ardyn’s claim it turns out is enough to dissuade the curse from dooming Ace and everyone he cares about but Ardyn has no intention of offering that same protection to either Regis or Noctis so Ace now has to find a way to break his Uncle’s curse.

Ace’s master plan did not account for this. There was no ‘Break In Case of Curse’ option in his plan to break the Crystal open like an egg. He has no idea what the fuck to do but he has to do something.

“Slain ye might be and slain ye shall be,” Ace quotes. Magic rises up around them full of wrath and grief and an unending hatred. “By weapon, and by torment, and by grief; and your houseless spirits shall be barred from Garden and Stream.”

Ardyn’s voice echoes Ace’s as they speak in tandem. Ardyn’s echo full of malice and rage while Ace keeps his voice emotionless. As if he’s reciting a report. “Their rule will drive them, and yet betray them, and ever snatch away the very peace they sought to pursue. To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by the treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass. Ye shall dwell in the shadow of death and have no respite. Houseless you shall be now and forevermore. You King has thus spoken.”

The echo of Ardyn’s magic and the full weight of it that was thrown behind the curse lingers in the air after Ace is done speaking. Noctis is frozen and for all his court training Ace can spy the way his hands shake, in fear or anger Ace doesn’t know but he can sympathize.

Regis looks like a wall of ice. His face expressionless but a growing rage lingers in his eyes.

“So,” Ace says, “You two have a problem and my current plans do not account for curse breaking. Thus I need your help to - I don’t know - find a way out of this?”

“You sound oddly calm for someone who is also cursed.” Regis’ eyes are sharp.

Ace shrugs.

“I’m immune to it, call the privilege of not being a legitimate child.” Ace is not telling his biological father about the entire thing between him and Ardyn. He is not doing that.

Regis does not believe him. Just as he should, because Ace is lying. The curse does effect bastard children. But as Ace is the only bastard this time around they don’t need to know that.

“Then do you know who cursed us?”

Ace smiles wryly.

“Who else?” Ace says, “The Sage. The Accursed. Whatever you want to call him. He was rightfully the first king until our asshole grandfather decided to take the throne and kill him.”

[babesway22]

“In Too Deep” part 9

Vox x fem!reader// NSFW 18+ // 🔞minors do not enter 🔞

Summary: After a strange week you get offered a job working for hell's biggest asshole but does he have a soft spot for you? Or is he just using you?

3 months. That's how long you've been Vox’s girlfriend, and what a title. Anyone who knew you before kept to themselves now; Vox’s explosive and erratic personality scared anyone in their right mind away. You still had close friends, though: Cor and Angel. Vox- wasn't particularly fond of your friendship with the pornstar, his reasoning? Too close to the stupid deer, fucker, his words, not yours. So you agreed, only seeing Angel when he visited V tower, which was fleeting; now, his toxic relationship with Valentino becoming more unstable, but you made it work. Of course, Vox- grilled him for information about Alastor, confirming one day that the radio demon wanted you dead on a platter, sending Vox- into a manic episode that lasted for hours. He created a whole new line of security because of it; everyone had to have a two-step clearance to evenmake it to the front of the V tower. All for you.

He even moved you in the night he made you his girlfriend, insistent that you stayed by his side. You learned so much more about him in the first week and months following. He was meticulous, everything having to be neatly placed back in its place after use; his emotions, while tamer for you, went from one extreme to the other, his manic thoughts keeping you on your toes; he hardly ever slept, which, you already knew waking up more times than not to an empty bed, finding him bent over his desk, paperwork scattered about, or observant eyes glued to his monitors instead.

‘I'll be back soon, baby,’ he always said, lying to himself and you, dragging his tired body back hours later.

But he was incredible, and you would never ask him to change any of it, finding yourself falling for him more each day, the L word on the tip of your tongue. He Cared for your every want and need. Clothes? The best in hell. Food and dinner? He cooked, scowling at you when you tried coming into the kitchen one night to help, offering, ‘The bastard starved you; let me cook for you,’ making you melt at his protective flare. And the sex? Mind-blowing, he never seemed to tire when it came to you; your pleasure became his utmost priority next to work. Often you found your legs spread open on his desk, his face buried in your cunt, or your bodies woven together late at night, his starved mouth finding yours and pulling moans and cries from you until the sun came up. You were finally filled with joy, completely satisfied with the existence after death that you had attained – an existence that was even more flawless than your living life had ever been.

********

Late one night, You sat on his desk, legs crossed daintily over each other, wearing a short skirt, sheer blouse, and kitten heels, your favorite lethal combination.

“You're trying to distract me, aren't you,” he murmured, not looking up from the paperwork he had been stressing over for the last hour; his tired red eyes focused intently on a proposal due in the morning.

“Not unless you want me to,” you mused, grabbing one of the many scattered papers on his desk and reviewing it. With a growl and a sharp snap of his teeth, he yanked you onto his lap.

“These skirts are going to be the death of me, baby. Do you want that? I saw FIVE men on my floor alone checking you out; it took everything for me not to throw their useless bodies over the fucking balcony,” he growled, bending you back so that you were reclined in front of him, your thighs spread wide around his hips as you straddled him making your skirt ride up to your hips, exposing your black lace underwear.

“Vox,” you moaned, his thumb rubbing over your clit through the thin fabric.

“Teasing me while I work,” he hissed, grabbing your neck in his large hand. It would've been threatening to others but possessive to you, just how you liked him.

His office door swung open dramatically, and Valentino sauntered in. “Ahhh, Look at you, love birds, estás tan caliente,” he purred, eyeing your position.

“What the FUCK, Valentino,” Vox’s voice distorted angrily, making you bite your lip; he was so hot when he got angry, “and how the FUCK do you keep getting in? I'm busy,” Vox said, narrowing his crimson eyes at the moth demon, his hands moving to your hips.

“I can see that, estúpido idiota, but we have a meeting tonight with velvette. Don’t tell me you forgot?” he sneered, pink smoke swirling through the air hypnotically.

Vox looked at you, puzzled, before glaring back at Val, speechless. “He forgot,” you said, patting his chest and climbing off his lap, disregarding the warm feeling in your core.

“Keep your man in line, chica,” Val laughed, taking a long drag from his cigarette and plopping onto a nearby chair. His crimson length not entirely fitting, making his robe cascade onto the floor.

"Please," Vox scoffed dismissively, rising from his seat and adjusting his jacket with a confident air.

"I would love to be a pequeño fly on the wall watching you two fuck," Valentino said, exhaling deeply, gesturing towards you and Vox, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he squinted with amusement.

“Watch it, Val,” Vox cautioned over his shoulder as he walked over to his liquor cabinet and carefully poured a generous amount of alcohol into his glass. It was evident that he was bracing himself for a prolonged and possibly arduous discussion with the other Vees.

“I’m kiddinggggg,” Valentino waved a long hand at you dismissively, head tossed back as chaotic laughter filled the room.

“Right,” you glared at Val, rolling your eyes.

Vox enveloped you in a warm embrace from behind, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. "I'll be back later if you need anything," he started to say.

“I know where to find you,' you interrupted, tilting your head back to meet his gaze, a gentle smile playing on your lips. He responded with a soft hum, his eyes locked with yours, lost in their depth.

“Asqueroso, I'm gonna throw up,” Valentino whined as he stood, turning on his heel, air lifting the corners around his robe making it float through the air dramatically. Releasing you, Vox headed for the door with an exasperated sigh, shooting a glare at Val as he strode past him. Their heated argument echoed down the hall until they finally vanished from earshot. Valentino wasn't exactly your favorite among the other two, but he had a knack for getting under Vox's skin in a humorous way that always brought a smile to your face.

“Okay,” you groaned. Feeling exasperated, you grudgingly decided to return to your shared suite. You thought that perhaps indulging in some ice cream along with some mindless, guilty-pleasure TV shows might help, recreating the comfort of old times.

********

Your delicate figure was poised on the sofa's edge, grasping a generous glass of crimson wine. The meeting had been dragging on for two long hours, and with every passing second, you struggled to fight off the heavy tug of drowsiness. However, you were abruptly startled to full alertness by the thunderous knocking on the door.

“Fuck,” you whispered, clutching your silk robe tightly around your body and walking the extended distance from the living room to the suite door, jumping back when another series of pounding rumbled the door.

"Hold ON," you grumbled, relying on Vox's expertise to safeguard V tower from any unauthorized intruders making it this far. As you reached for the door handle, it swung open, and Vox staggered into the room.

“What took you so long?” he slurred angrily,

his eyes, slightly unfocused, scanned your body protectively, ensuring you hadn't been harmed in his absence.

You hesitated momentarily and stepped back when he leaned his taller, somewhat unsteady form against your shoulder, the potent scent of expensive liquor immediately assaulting your senses. "Are you?" you began to ask, but you trailed off when you noticed his condition. "Drunk?" you finished, concern evident in your voice. "Also, you have a key," you added, responding to his earlier question.

"Right,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he stood back up. With unsteady movements, he slipped his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud, and stumbled toward the bedroom, his uneven gait betraying a sense of disorientation.

“I'm assuming the meeting went well?” you inquired, following him.

“Mm, no,” was his response, his shirt coming off next.

“Vox,” you laughed, watching your overlord boyfriend, who was usually very sure of his footing, trip over his feet and plop onto the bed face first. “I've never seen you drunk before.”

“Valentino,” he muffled into the mattress, holding a slender claw up.

“Yes?” you said, encouraging him to continue.

He rose slowly, the low rumble of a growl escaping his throat as he pushed himself up on his elbows. His powerful shoulders tensed, the muscles shifting beneath his skin as he flipped over and gracefully sat up. His intense gaze met yours as you shamelessly admired his strength.

“Cmere beautiful,” he said, the words coming out distorted with thick electrical static. When you got within arms reach, he yanked you to him, wrapping his arms around your hips. “You smell good,”he whined, his hands finding their way into your robe, caressing your stomach.

“Vox, you're too drunk," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing a soothing path down his tense shoulders.

"No, no," he slurred; the usually tightly controlled and rigid facade he always wore was slipping through his grasp.

“You should lay down, let me help,” your voice soft as you carefully untangled yourself from his embrace, kneeling between his parted legs and gently reaching for one of his shoes, slipping it off.

“Fuck,”’ he hissed, running his fingers through your hair, grabbing a fistful, and forcing you to look up at him. You mewled softly, meeting his intoxicated scowl. “You look good on your knees for me,” His voice growled, fluctuating in and out like the rapid switching of TV stations, creating an unsettling and eerie effect. It was hot, making you clench your thighs together to ward off runaway thoughts.

"Vox," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as you found yourself entranced by the deep crimson hue of his eyes, allowing them to draw you in with a mesmerizing pull you couldn't resist. He looked handsome, perhaps the most alluring you had ever seen him. His bare torso was fully exposed as he reclined, revealing the faint blue lines of electricity that gently illuminated his ribs. With one arm outstretched to support himself, his intense gaze fixated downwards at you while his other arm held you between his open legs. He was sinful, as always.

“The meeting went well,” he said sarcastically, pausing to yank your head back further, making you whine at the painful but welcome sting. "Valentino intentionally got me drunk so that he could confess that he had recklessly spent half of our monthly budget; I can’t blame him; I would’ve slit his throat if it weren’t for the liquor," he replied with a tone of disdain.

"And you," he said in a low, menacing growl, his sharp teeth snapping together, sending a shiver down your spine. His intense gaze locked onto you, his next target of asserting his dominance, something that always left you feeling weak in the knees. "What am I going to do with you, hm?" he finished, cocking his head to the side, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of desire and authority.

“What do you mean?” you asked quietly, eyes roaming to his lap and holding back a gasp at the sight of his cock straining through his pants.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart," he seethed, his words flowing like sweet yet poisonous honey from his lips, each syllable filled with restrained anger and frustration.

"Please," you whispered urgently, your mind reeling at the speed at which this was going, the sexual tension building by the second.

“I fucking love when you beg,” he snarled, his fist tightening in your hair.

"Please," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as you held eye contact, your bottom lip nervously caught between your teeth. "Let me take care of you," you begged, self-control thrown out the window. He stared down at you, his lip pulling into a snarl, the effects of alcohol making him unpredictable. Tentatively, you reached your hand out, pouting when you pulled forward, his clenched fist allowing little to no movement, “Vox,” his name a desperate plea as you reached for him, your fingers grasping and deftly unclasping his belt, followed by his button and zipper, moaning loudly when his considerable length sprung free in front of Your face; every part of him was pretty, including his cock. Snarling lowly, he allowed you to get closer, moving your head so that you had access to him; and wasting no time, you closed your lips around the fat head, your eyes rolling closed as you savored the taste and loud sound of him hissing through his teeth from above. His hand guided you deeper onto his cock, a string of profanities leaving his mouth when you gagged and pulled back.

“FUCK, cmon baby, I know you can take more,” His voice wavered as if struggling to push through layers of static interference as he pressed your head down until he bottomed out in the back of your throat, making you choke, his precum combined with your saliva leaking from the corners of your mouth, an unholy sight to behold.

“That, my girl,” he spat, his sharp teeth biting into his bottom lip as he needily thrust into your throat, making tears streak down, carrying trails of mascara in their wake, creating a beautiful yet poignant mess, all for him.

“Fu-ck,” he groaned, the sound sending a pool of wetness between your legs; your lust-filled eyes met his, your mouth sinfully stuffed, making him unhinged, words spilling from his mouth that didn't make sense. “S-so beau- y-you fuckfuckfuck.” his head lolling back from the pleasure and alcohol.

Trying to relieve the pressure, you reached your hand between your legs, crying out around his cock when your fingers found your slippery clit, rubbing tight circles around the tiny bundle of nerves frantically, desperately needing release.

“What do you think you're doing,” he snarled, yanking your head back painfully so that his cock fell from your mouth, your loud gasp for air filling the quiet room. “That's mine,” he glared down at you, his crimson eyes glowing in the faint light. “Remove your FUCKING hand,” he demanded, a sharp blue electrical zap filling the room like lightning before dissipating, shrouding the room in faint light again. He'd never been like this with you, and of course, he was always in charge of every aspect of his life, but for the most part, he was gentle in the bedroom. This was different, and you were addicted, craving his madness. Obeying, you removed your hand from between your legs, gasping when he snatched your wrist tightly in his hand and brought it to his mouth, sucking your juices off your fingers lewdly, his appreciative deep hum sending shivers down your spine.

“You drive me crazy; it's like I can't get enough. I'm starved,” his eyes snapped open, staring at you like a man crazed. “Stand up,” he hissed, grabbing you by the throat when you obediently did as he asked.

“Always listening to me, good girl,” he seethed. “And I've made a mess of your pretty face,” he pouted sarcastically, his sharp thumb rubbing across your jaw.

“Fuck me as hard as you can,” you whispered hoarsely, not caring about the consequences of what you were asking. His psychotic mannerisms drawing you to him, dangerously.

“Oh ho ho,” he tossed his head back, manic laughter echoing off the walls. “You can't take it, doll. I'll break you,” he glared menacingly back down at you.

“Give me your worst,” you replied, a startled yelp leaving you when he picked you up and threw you onto the bed, his strong hands grabbing your legs and yanking you down towards him. “You gonna scream for me, baby, hm?” He growled lowly, flipping you over to your stomach and grabbing your hips, his other hand on the back of your neck, shoving you into the mattress. The sound of your silk slip being ripped filled your ears, followed by a harsh slap to your ass, making you whimper loudly, earning another; the sting painful.

“Fuck,” he barked sadistically, shoving his cock into you without warning, your tight walls stretching painfully around the thickness of his cock, his pace brutal and unforgiving, making you remind yourself you asked for it.

“Vox,” you screamed, your voice broken by his persistent thrust, his cock splitting you in two.

“Cum. I know you want to,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotion, as he leaned over your body, pressing you further into the sheets, your hot breath suffocating you. His deep understanding of your body created an irresistible need for him, drawing you closer with each intimate moment, making you always crave more of him. His thrust became more powerful and precise, making the orgasm hit you so intensely and painfully that stars blinded your vision, a ragged wail leaving your throat.

“Sh-it, you're soaking me,” he groaned, his hand moving to grip your throat tightly, the other digging into the plush fat of your hips, claws piercing in sharply, making tiny beads of blood trail down your thigh. “You’re taking it so well,” he praised, the wet squelching of your pussy driving him insane, his pace bruising your ass and thighs.

“I can't-vox, I can't, I can't,” you whined, your voice hoarse from screaming.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he snarled loudly, his voice filled with agony as he forced himself to stop, his pace becoming lazy, his hips slowly snapping into you, and his hand leaving your throat to sweep the hair that stuck to your face out of the way. “I've got you, baby,” he soothed, pulling out of you and picking you up, your soft whines silenced by his mouth, tender kisses littering your lips and face. He turned and sat on the bed, slowly lowering you back onto his cock, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as you panted into his mouth. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t,” you began, his firm voice interrupting you. “Don’t, don’t apologize.” Where he was harsh just seconds ago, he was now soft and gentle, his movements careful and sensual.

“Vox, I lo-” the L word disappeared on a moan as he thrust deeply into you. Did he notice, you wondered; you were afraid that he might not understand the meaning behind such a word, his emotions more restrained and cold than yours. You let the thought die for now, more focused on the pleasure he was effortlessly pulling from you.

"Say it,” he stilled, grabbing your face into his hands, “say it, baby," he nodded, his eyes gazing intensely into yours, their earnestness pleading with you. Your heart slowed, thumping in your chest, while your eyes darted around his face, searching for a sign, a clue, anything to hold onto.

“Vox I—" you stammered, the words catching on the lump in your throat. Your chest heaved with each breath, betraying the fear that gripped you.

“Say. It.,” he replied more sternly, his grip on your face tightening.

“I love you,” you whispered, not audible enough for him to catch.

“C'mon, doll, louder than that,” His voice carried a hint of concealment as if it were veiling something deeper.

“I love you, Vox, so much,” your voice shaking with emotion. His face froze, glitching to an error screen before going back to his usual, but he was unreadable, making panic set it, hot tears springing free and rolling down your cheeks onto his hands that held you firmly.

“Vox,” you whispered, “say something, you asshole,” the panic turned into anger, trying but failing miserably to rip your face from his hands.

“This feeling. It’s love. I love you,” he said, bewildered by his own understanding of the emotion he was experiencing. Those words had never left his lips before now, only you being graced by them and only you eternally, “I love you,” he said again, thrusting back into you, making you roll your eyes closed.

“Vox,” you sighed, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“I’ll protect your soul for an internity; I’ll kill for you, I promise,” he moaned, his hands grabbing your hips and softly guiding you up and down his cock, wetness leaking onto his lap shamelessly.

“I love you,” he whispered again, his mouth finding yours, kissing you passionately, making you melt into his hands. His thrust and grip becoming more harsh and frantic, making your mouth hang open, soft moans tumbling from your throat.

“Shit, that's it, pretty girl,” he encouraged, your oncoming orgasm making your body warm, the back of your thighs beginning to tighten.

“Vox,” you cried out, your body arching into him, the growing heat becoming overwhelming.

“Cum with me,” he grunted, his strong arms lifting you completely off him before dropping you back down, repeating the movement until you were a babbling mess on his cock, your wetness squelching out of you and painting your inner thighs with every drop of your hips. “That's it, c'mon sweet girl, soak me,” the deep hum of his encouraging tone vibrating through his chest, making your body tremble “Please, please,” he whimpered into your ear, his breath shaking and hot, making your cunt begin to spasm around thenthickness of his cock, the sensation euphoric. “I can't; I'm gonna cum, please baby, please,” he begged, his pitiful whines making an orgasm rip through your body, your head tossed back as a scream left you, the intensity of your walls convulsing around him too much. His hand fell to your back to support you as he quickly followed, slowly pumping through your tight cunt until his cum filled you, leaking around his swollen cock until it dripped onto his lap, your thighs and the floor.

“Vox,” you panted, your legs trembling, “don't ever stop fucking me, holy-”

“We’ve got forever,” he murmured, bringing your face to his, his beautiful red eyes boring into yours. “I love you,” he said, kissing softly on the side of your mouth.

“I love you too; I can't believe you're mine,” you said breathlessly, shaking your head.

“All yours, baby,” he said, softly running his hands up and down your spine, making you shudder, earning a loud grunt from your lover, his hands readjusting you on his lap, not allowing his cock to slip free.

“Such a powerful overlord, and look at you,” your eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Mmm,” he hummed, falling onto the mattress, pulling you down with him, his arms holding you tightly to his chest. “Too bad this won’t take,” he whispered into your hair.

“What won't take?” you asked, puzzled before it hit you. “Oh,” you shot up, staring down at him.

I've taken the liberty of tagging the people who've interacted the most with my fic; I hope you don't mind. Thank you all for your support; it means the most.

There are only 1-2 parts left! Then, if anyone is interested, I'll be open to another story or any requests.

@annakade @cimadreamer @lil-glum

[fritz-federleicht]

8/Corey Taylor x reader

Summary: you visit Corey in the studio

Words: 1112

Warnings: swearing

PURE FLUFF

For a month now, your boyfriend has been in the studio with his bandmates recording a new album.

That means that Corey either doesn't come home at all or gets up very early to spend as much time as possible in the studio. You almost don't see each other at all during this time.

That's why you're especially happy today because you're going to visit Corey in the studio.

You stand in front of the studio door and ring the bell. You wait a moment and hear footsteps.

"Hey Y/N." Jim opens the door for you and takes you firmly in his arms.

"Hey, we finally meet again." You murmur into his shoulder. You separate from each other again. "You know where the studio is."

You nod. Even if you didn't know, you would know where to go. The boys make such a racket.

You walk past the kitchen and open the door to the studio.

The first thing you see is Mick sitting on a chair playing his guitar.

In another corner Sid, Joey and Chris are sitting and fooling around. Craig and Paul are nowhere to be seen.

When you open the door all the way, you see Clown sitting before the recording room. Inside is your boyfriend Corey, screaming his head off. Finally you can see him again.

"Hello Y/N." You turn your head to Joey. "Oh hey Joey." You wave. Sid and Chris turn to you.

"Come here." Sid beckons you over. With a broad grin on your face you walk towards them.

When you stand in front of them, Sid wants to hug you, but Joey pushes him aside.

"Me first, asshole." He puts his arms around you. "Ah, I missed your hugs."

,,Why do you get to hug Y/N first?" Sid asks and pulls you out of Joey's arms.

"Maybe because we like each other more."

Jim appears behind Joey. "That's not true at all. Y/N hugged me first."

"What? Really?" Joey makes a horrified expression. "Oh, guys. I missed you too." You say and give Sid and Chris a quick hug, one after the other.

You look at Clown and Corey who still haven't noticed that you are there. Then you turn to Mick who has now put his guitar aside and leans back in his chair. When he sees you he smiles and stands up.

"Hey little one." "Hey, big guy." You hug him too. "Sorry, but I have to say hello to Corey."

Mick nods. You walk towards Clown who is sitting with his back to you. You hug his head from behind. "Hey Clown. Can I go in or are you recording something?" He flinches slightly and turns his head back. He puts his hands on your arms that are resting under his face.

"Y/N don't scare me like that!" He complains. "But yes, you can go in."

Immediately you loosen your embrace and straighten up. You walk towards the door, adjust your clothes once more and open the door to the recording room.

Corey, with headphones on and eyes closed, doesn't even notice you enter the room. He's still screaming his head off.

You run up to him, wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek. He immediately stops shouting.

Corey opens his eyes. Looks down at himself and sees your grinning face. Immediately his face lights up. His arms wrap around your hips. He presses you tightly against him.

"Babe, what are you doing here?" "I wanted to surprise..." You don't get any further because Corey interrupts you.

"It doesn't matter. The main thing is that you're here." He says and takes your face in his hands. He leans down and kisses you.

,,Guys, that's so sweet." Joey's voice sounds loudly. You break the kiss and look at the window that lies between the studio and the recording room. In front of it are the guys watching you. Joey is standing over the control panel, holding a microphone in his hand.

"You guys are such peeping toms." Corey yells into the microphone in front of him.

Sid snatches the microphone from Joey's hand. "You're a Peeping Tom. You fucker."

"SID!" You admonish him. He immediately makes an apologetic face. "Sorry." The others laugh at this.

"You would do the same." Is Sid miffed.

"Come on. We'll take a break." Says Corey, loosening his arms around your hips. Instead, he grabs your hand and leads you out of the recording room.

"Guys, we're going to take a short break. You'll find us in the kitchen."

Corey opens the studio door for you. You slip through. "Thanks, honey." Corey smiles and follows you into the kitchen.

"Would you like something to drink?" , "A coffee wouldn't be bad. I just got up an hour ago."

Corey puts on a coffee and sits down with you.

"I missed you. You didn't come home last night."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just want to use as much time as possible." He says and reaches for your hand. His thumb runs over your knuckles.

"Not for long. Then I'll be home all the time again." He lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

"I'm looking forward to waking up together again." He looks you in the eyes and thinks about something.

"Babe, you know what? Here, take the ring." Corey releases your hands from each other and pulls his ring with the 8 on it off his finger. He holds it out to you.

"But it's so important to you." "Just take it until we see each other all the time again. So that you always have me with you."

"Oh Corey." You put your hand on his cheek. He presses his face against your touch. "That's so sweet of you. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N. So much." You run your thumb over his cheekbone and kiss him.

"Joey's right. You guys are really cute." You jump apart in fright and turn to the direction from which the voice comes. "But if you keep doing that, I'm going to puke."

Clown stands in the doorway with a serious face.

"Honey, take a cup of coffee. I have something to do." Corey says as he stands up. He gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head and then turns to Clown.

"Come on over here, you butthead." Says Clown belligerently.

"I'm gonna kill you, bitch." Corey runs towards Clown. Clown runs away from him.

There you sit smiling with Corey's ring firmly in your hand.

[zooophagous]

Strauss marched stiffly behind his companion. No, companion was far too friendly a word. She needed a different descriptor. He mentally combed through what English his racing mind could cling to. She was something more of a jailor, or perhaps a carnivorous bird of prey, more of a captor.

If there was an English word for someone who captured another and forced them to commit violence, he couldn’t find it in his lexicon. He had an idea, however, that he may fit the definition of “hostage.”

He had tried to imagine himself more of a shepherd, or a “sheep dog,” a chaperone or someone who could perhaps persuade Frau Pietra not to behave badly- at least while he was with her. How foolish to imagine this was a sheep, and not a wolf. 

Sylvain’s psychic prowess did not, as far as he knew, extend to the wholesale reading of minds. She didn’t really need to. Her confident posture and the sense of direction with which she was leading him gave the sense that she already knew very well what he was thinking.

“I hope this walking is working up your appetite.” She called glibly back at her shadow. “I know it’s working for me.”

“I am not hungry.” He replied glumly.

“Yes you are. I can hear your gut growling at you. We are going to find something, and you WILL eat.”

“Where are we going?”

“To find a worthwhile target.” She muttered. “Don’t you worry, Herr Strauss. I know you. I know you’re picky. Too picky to take just anyone. I’ll have you know I hand picked a vile, nasty little son of a bitch who’s evaded justice for quite some time. Just for you. I know that’s your MO.”

“What is MO?”

“Modus Operandi. The mode in which you operate.”

“Is that how you think I operate? Picking off alleged villains to slake my thirst and spare my conscience?”

“Am I wrong?” She looked over her shoulder at him. “We both already know your history. You really gonna try and deny it?”

“If you truly knew anything about me, you’d know I subsist on charity.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Not murder.”

“Don’t sell yourself too short. You also subsisted on medical malpractice and on soldiers and prostitutes. A crook isn’t much different.”

“I do what I have to, Frau Pietra. I am not always proud of it. I do not need to do this.”

“Oh no, you do. Just not for your usual reason. I went through the trouble and you’re going to follow through.”

“Where are you even taking me? You still haven’t told me.”

“You can see it from here.” She pointed at the skyline of the city. It wasn’t an impressive skyline, but part of it stood proud against the dingy orangish clouds of the light polluted sky. A black, barbed spire, the pointed shape of which was nearly reminiscent of the stakes found hanging in the halls of the Van Helsing Institute. 

“The cathedral?”

“Got it in one, chief.” She smirked. “What’s the matter, scared of a little crucifix and holy water? I don’t know how much you’ve bothered testing it, but that doesn’t work.” Her face grew dark. “Ask me how I know.”

“God would have to care for that to be real, and he does not.” Strauss replied softly.

“There is no God.” She snapped. “For at least one poor asshole, we’re going to prove it.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You won’t.”

Strauss crossed his arms protectively over his torso. His mind raced while his footsteps deliberately dragged, trying to buy precious moments to think. The looming silhouette of the cathedral only grew larger with every step. 

Maybe he could make a break for it. No, she could find him. Unless he ditched the watch, but then Artemis wouldn’t be able to find him either. Maybe he could tackle her. And be publicly rent limb from limb. Also less than ideal. But, to save a human life perhaps? He wasn’t sure his altruism stretched so far as to sacrifice his own life for a stranger who meant nothing to him. As bleak as it sounded, perhaps it was better the stranger than himself. What an awful way to think, though, and one he was sure would disappoint Artemis if she could hear it.

His internal monologue had failed to illuminate the correct way to proceed. What was worse- it also had failed to buy any time. The pair of vampires walked abreast down the sidewalk to the tall form of the church that stood lit up in warm light against a starless sky. 

Sylvain stepped into the lawn of the holy place, undeterred by the watchful gaze of a marble statue of Mary that glowered down at them. She stalked around the side of the building, away from the main doors, with a purpose that indicated she knew exactly where to go. 

“This way.”

Strauss obediently trailed behind, stooping low to try and hide in whatever shadows he could afford with his height. Sylvain found her spot by the wall, and, placing her hands against the bricks, began to climb. 

Her claws deftly found whatever thin holds the bricks could offer her, and she scaled it fearlessly to the second floor. A little window glowed from within- some poor soul working late in the office wing. She peeked into the lit room and tapped ever so gently at the window pane, catching the attention of the occupant. Even from his position on the ground, Strauss could see her face twist into a cruel smile. She curled her finger in a beckoning motion. She was a difficult request to resist.

A man appeared at the window. He had no sooner opened it when Sylvain shot her claw into the opening and seized him by his shirt and yanked him off his feet. She clung to the wall with one claw, and turned outward to hold the terrified, whimpering target with the other.

She dropped him.

Strauss ducked forward and caught the dead weight of the half-hypnotized prey item roughly. He stumbled onto his knee, and spilled the stranger onto the yard. The man scurried backwards away from his savior. Sylvain dropped down in front of him and landed squarely on her feet. She reached for him once again and dragged her prey to a standing position.

“Keep your Goddamn mouth shut or I’ll rip your scalp off.” She growled to the terrified man. She could have spared threats, her psychic sway was more than enough to keep him quiet, and he was too scared to challenge her. 

“This is your worthy target?” Strauss snarked at her. “An elderly priest? I have no love for Catholicism, but I thought you had a bit more… suitable fare.” He almost sounded disappointed as he quietly mocked her. “The only thing going for him is that I suppose he’s technically supposed to be a virgin.”

“Not just a priest, Lu. What you have here is one Father Gregor White. He’s a bit new at this parish, aren’t you Greg?”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Nothing. It’s just that before he was moved here a year and a half ago, he was in South Carolina for four years. And then in New Jersey before that for two. Seems to have a hard time staying put, doesn’t he?”

“And?”

“You can’t be this dense, Lu. What big important high profile reason might the church have for sending a priest away to a new parish? Do you think perhaps they had a few complaints?”

She stressed the last word sharply. Gregor feebly muttered a stuttered response of “it’s not true!” before receiving a kick in the ribs for his protests.

Strauss winced with empathy and stepped forward to separate the two. Sylvain pointedly stuck herself between them. 

“What, this one not good enough for you? After all the trouble I went through to really pick out a good one?”

Strauss glanced down at the glassy eyed and lost looking priest. 

“I recognize him. The day I escaped, I had no shirt. I fell from a roof, and he gave me his jacket.”

“Oh, so that little act of kindness covers a multitude of sins?”

“No. But I still have little interest in killing him.”

“Why not. Did you go soft? Did Ursula defang you? Or maybe she just neutered you.”

“I simply refuse to bite when there isn’t a need to.”

“You’ve killed pedophiles before.”

“Yes, and that killing is what got me hunted down and captured in the first place. I lost my home and my freedom and my entire life was permanently upended. I would be an idiot not to think of consequences now.”

“Should have known better. Practically gift wrapped a hot meal for you and you turn your nose up at it like a spoiled lap dog. I was told you were a tiger. Now I can’t tell if I see stripes on you or just the outlines of your ribs. Do you think you can survive on altruism? Would you starve to death to let this scum live?”

“I have survived on altruism for over two hundred years. You have barely survived five, and have done so by living on the periphery of humanity like a kicked dog. Abandoning my harmlessness and hunting humanity is what nearly got me killed.”

He stepped towards her with his teeth bared. “Go ahead then, if it’s that important to you that he dies, you do it. That seems to be your “modus operandi,” as you so aptly put it. Why bother making it mine? Clearly you’re the superior hunter here. Show me! Show me how it’s done!”

“This isn’t about me, Lu.”

“Then tell me straight up. Why does it matter so much that I be the one to spill blood here?”

“Because I’m fucking TIRED of you denying your nature.”

She shoved him hard in the chest. Strauss stood firm and didn’t move. Sylvain stumbled backwards a step from her own force. 

“You and I both know you’ve got a hungry mean streak deep as the sea beneath that meek little facade, Strauss. You won’t control it if you don’t fucking acknowledge it, don’t you get that? Maybe you could get away with that in that stupid fucking hole in the ground but that’s long gone. Now you’re HERE. Here and pretending you aren’t one bad day from ending everyone around you.”

“I believe you’re projecting, Frau Pietra. I may have bitten, yes, under duress. But I am not the one leaving spent corpses in the park like a drunk leaving a trail of broken bottles.”

“What the Hell are you talking about?” She tilted her head to one side. “You think I kill people? You think I’m stupid enough to pick off people in the town Ursula Harker comes to get coffee every day? Do you honestly think that little of me?”

“If you don’t even hunt, why the Hell should I?!”

“I already told you this isn’t about me. Honestly Lu, you want the truth? It’s not about you either.”

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about HER!”

Sylvain yelled in his face. “It’s about Artie, ok? You happy?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of fucking course you don’t. You don’t understand fucking anything. Or at least you’re real good at playing dumb. I told Artie, I fucking warned her not to keep messing around with vampires. I BEGGED her to quit. I didn’t want what happened to me to happen to her.”

Gregor tried to crawl away, only to be snatched by his shirt collar and flung against the wall.

“I was the best hunter they ever had. Maybe even more so than Ursula. If I could fuck up and get turned into… THIS then it could happen to anyone. It wasn’t worth it to keep the Institute open. But no. She was just like you. Weak. Too weak to make a hard choice. Too weak to finish me off when she had the chance. And even losing her eye wasn’t enough to teach her a lesson. After losing me, she goes and gets you. You! A half feral grave dweller, who had just skinned a man alive.”

She laughed bitterly as she ranted.

“Getting you out of there and letting you loose is what you deserve, I’ll give you that. But it wasn’t about you. I had to get you away from her. I had to get vampires, including myself, away from my girlfriend before she got herself fucking killed. Now here I am handing you freedom, and you’re too stupid to take it and run.”

“Ex girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?”

“Artemis is your ex girlfriend. Not your girlfriend. I don’t think you can rightfully call her yours after you took out her eye.”

“What’s it to you if she’s my girlfriend or not? Are you jealous or something?”

“Artemis is my friend. Is it not natural to want to protect your friend from a former lover who injured them?”

“Please. She isn’t your friend. She’s your OWNER if anything. She doesn’t care about you beyond her project.”

“I know for a fact that isn’t true.” He replied a bit more slyly than he should have.

“What do you mean by that?” Sylvain asked suspiciously.

Strauss was silent.

She abandoned her assault on the priest and turned now to Strauss. She grabbed him by the throat with sudden ferocity.

“I SAID what do you mean by that?”

Strauss stared wide eyed in shock at her. He was instantly aware that she was exerting her will on him. Quite a bold move, to try that on another vampire. He had only a split second to decide whether or not to fight it. Such a distraction would probably get her mind off of ‘hunting,’ but only at his own expense. While his mind grappled for a foothold, his mouth was already bending to her will.

“I know because I love her.”

Sylvain laughed cruelly in his face. “You love her! That’s rich! I knew you had Stockholm syndrome but woooow Lu. This is pathetic even for you. You really think she reciprocates?”

“Yes. Considering how many times we’ve slept together.”

Oops. 

Strauss clamped his claw over his mouth. Too little too late. Sylvain stared him down with a hard incredulous stare. She was in apparent shock, and for a moment was silent, though the heat of her anger rising out out a noise at a frequency only vampires could hear.

“You… and Artie.”

Strauss shot a look to the priest, who was now slowly rising to his feet and trying to slip away. He hoped the look conveyed “you’re welcome and get out quickly,” but that was a lot for such a stoic face to say. He made hard eye contact with Sylvain.

“Yes.”

She struck him. She struck him again. One two in rapid succession across the face. Hot pain seared his cheek from the rip of skin under her claws. She made to swing again. He caught her arm and swung her bodily into the wall. She stopped stunned for a moment.

Her eyes were wide and her breathing heavy and ragged. A deep growling voice choked out of her between desperate angry breaths.

“I’ll kill you. I’m going to wait for her to show up and I’ll kill you right the fuck in front of her.”

“She isn’t showing up.”

Strauss pulled the smart watch from his pocket and crushed it in his fist.

Sylvain descended on him with a shriek. She jumped and caught him in her claws and sank her teeth into his neck.

Strauss felt her many rows of sharp teeth pop through the skin like a man biting an apple. He returned the favor sinking his own teeth into her neck and shoulder. Vampire blood was some rare delicacy. Metallic and viscous but cold. Difficult to consume.

He didn’t have long to play sommelier. Her hand was on his face, trying to find an eye with her claws. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her off of himself. She clung to him and left long blood trails down his body with her claws.

He held her aloft by the scalp, she dangled and hissed and spit like a feral cat. He slammed her head first into the brick. She fell into a crumpled heap, but shot out a leg and caught him squarely in the groin. He doubled over and she jumped him once again, raining blows on his back and head.

He flung himself to the ground, using his superior size to pin her. She kicked and fought beneath him and threatened to split his hide and spill his guts. He got up and backed away from her. Strips of skin and pulled hair hung from him in bloody tatters. 

Sylvain did not get up. She groaned and grunted, and writhed on the ground as if in terrible pain. Dark hair began to appear around her face and her arms.

Time to go. 

Strauss turned and broke into a run away from the church and down a dark alley. Sylvain’s cries of pain echoed behind him, soon replaced by a mighty rush of wind that bore down faster than he could run.

An immense bat, larger than any eagle, swooped low and swiped him with its sharp clawed feet. He fell to the ground on his stomach. Before he could think, it was there again, piercing his body with claws like meat hooks.

She ascended into the sky with her captive. Straight up and out, over the city, and gaining altitude quickly.

The faint tears in Strauss’ eyes began to congeal into frost as she bore him higher and higher into the dingy clouds. Thick mist surrounded him, blinding and confusing. He didn’t need to breathe but the air still felt cold and thin and hurt his chest.

She brought him to her zenith, outside of the city, alone in the dark ove a desolate barren field.

She dropped him.

Strauss fell like a stone. The rush of cold wind cut through his clothes and froze his hands and feet into stiff useless shapes. He fought with his shirt, desperate to maintain composure to escape it and focus. The cold dampened the pain of transformation. Newly sprouted black fur flew in the wind and offered no protection from it.

He fell out the bottom of the cloud and saw the earth growing larger beneath him. He bit his lip and forced his frozen fingertips to spread. The earth was closer. He willed his torn skin to right itself enough to form a wing membrane. Closer still. He beat his arms in a frail attempt to catch the wind. Closer. He righted himself and positioned his keel even with the earth. Now below the height of the tall cathedral spire. Impact imminent.

Twenty feet before becoming a bat-shaped crater, his wings took, and he flew. Up and up and away quickly, but not quickly enough. Sylvain shrieked at him once again and slashed at his back from above. He went straight up back into the clouds to lose her. 

She was on him still. He turned to face her. The two great bats flew at each other hard and fast and clipped into each other like jousting knights, each trying to break the other’s wing. Sylvain turned in a wide loop and flew at him with her jaws wide. Strauss ducked and swiped at her with his clawed feet, catching a stray piece of her leftover clothing.

The two spiraled downward, the centripetal force swung them wide in a useless circle as their altitude plummeted. It was a game of chicken now, who would let go first. It wasn’t a game he could win. Sylvain hung on and became a dead weight, content to crash and take her opponent down with her.

The earth was approaching rapidly again, but this time Strauss had no time to change trajectory. He let go of Sylvain and she was flung afield. He braced his wings out like a parachute to slow his fall. Too late. He made contact with the earth and bounced, and bounced again, and skidded roughly through the dry hard sticks of a former corn field. 

His skin had given up the ghost. Holes decorated his wings like bloody stars. He shrank painfully back into his now naked human form. He was spent. He began to crawl away on his hands and knees, only to have the nude form of Sylvain appear before him, glowering down at him with fire in her eyes.

“I should kill you. I should rip your dick off. I should give your head to Artie as a Christmas present.”

“Then do it.” He grunted in defiance.

“No.” She grinned, and let out a choked laugh. “Don’t need to. Sun will be up soon, and you don’t have so much as a shirt.” She looked around, pleased with herself.

“You know what, Lu? I’m not even mad you broke the watch anymore. Artie can have you. If she can fucking find you.”

She turned and walked off, her proportions growing weirder with every step until finally she was fully winged and flying off once again, leaving Strauss mercifully alone in the dirt.

Or perhaps unmercifully. Strauss shakily found his feet and took a few wincing steps before falling to his knees in exhaustion once more. He repeated this process, though unsure of where he was actually going.

This field was a wide gape of treeless expanse. Beyond it, a gravel road, and more field beyond that. The faint rosy fingers of dawn began to claw at the horizon. Strauss forced himself to stand. The ache of fear produced a low whine in his chest. He needed rest, rest he couldn’t afford. 

Shaky step gave way to shaky step. The air was growing warmer now. Larks, singing beautifully, heralded the break of morning. At last the bloody red sun crested on the horizon and bathed the field in awful color.

Strauss tried to run, to even jog, but his battered body was at its limit. The light became warm, and soon after, became uncomfortable. Itching gave way to burning. Strauss hunched over, covering his face with one hand and his genitals with the other and turned his back to the sun and began walking as quickly as he could in a blind straight line. Whatever he ran into would have to be shelter.

A wetness began to trickle down his back. Sweat? No. Blisters had begun to form on his burned skin, and the largest of them had already burst. New blisters formed swiftly beneath the old, and in minutes had burst anew, rapidly spilling the water in his already dehydrated form.

The pain had nearly stopped now, his skin ruined to the point of numbness. Dead strips of it clung to him like snakeskin. He hazarded a glance up, un-shielding his eyes for a moment to get his bearings. The light painfully blinded him, and as he blinked through the dancing green after image he saw nothing. Nowhere to run to, and nowhere to hide.

His knees gave out again. This time, for good. He would not be standing back up. He gripped the dirt with his now stinging, red hands and braced for the end. Insects and birds assaulted the field in a cacophony of annoying noises. He would not even die in peace. 

Another animal was in the field, at the periphery of his blurred vision he saw a small brown shape. It was a mouse.

A wild field mouse stopped just short of his hand. It looked at him with blank black eyes, then turned back to the dry dirt of the field. It began to dig in the loose dry soil, and was gone.

Strauss watched it go, and shifted the loose earth beneath his claws a moment. He gathered his failing strength and furiously began to dig.