#day 14 strength/muscle kink
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I was tagged by @sybilius to do this! Let's jump into it I guess!
1. How many works do you have on AO3? I have 71 attributed to me currently. I have two more that will be revealed this weekend, bringing the total to 73!
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
Including the two unrevealed fics, 245,147
3. What fandoms do you write for?
NJPW, AEW (not often), and Hockey RPF. I have stepped away from HRPF due to some interfandom issues, but have recently started a couple of wips.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Rare is this love, keep it covered (hrpf) a whole lot more than riches and muscle (hrpf) you had my soul, I felt it taking hold (hrpf) waiting for my day to come (hrpf) symphonies in the dark (AEW)
5. Do you respond to comments?
I try to! I have been holding off on responding to the ones from the Three Count Exchange because I want to gush publicly about the fics lol
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Selling My Soul is pretty angsty, so is one of my unrevealed ones ;)
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Symphonies in the Dark or a whole lot more than riches and muscle have marriage proposals at the end, so I guess those.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Not anymore I don't. That was part of the interfandom drama in hockey rpf that drove me away.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I absolutely do. I do things from your basic vanilla fucking to delving into kink stuff.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I have not! I tend to lean towards AUs instead.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
God I hope not.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
No, BUT, I have had a whole fic podficced before!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I have in the past, but not too recently. @debbiechanclub and I tried though lol
14. What's your all-time favorite ship?
My main ship in hrpf was Mark Scheifele/Blake Wheeler and my main wrestling fic is Shota Umino/Ren Narita, so I'll say those two.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
The damn accidental wish kid fic I started like 4 years ago. So much has changed since then, including my writing style, so I don't think I'll ever revisit it. I do plan on revisiting the concept though!
16. What are your writing strengths?
I've had a ton of people tell me it's how I do emotional connection and getting the reader into the headspace of the character, so that I guess.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I can be a bit on the more clinical side. I do think it's because I'm currently a post-grad student and a large part of my work requires me to write clinically, so it can be hard to disconnect from that. Some habits that I have to have for school and work are hard to break out of for fun.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I fucking panic every single time. If possible, I try and run it by someone who speaks the language to make sure I'm not fucking shit up. I know I can use Google translate, but I also know that it isn't a perfect solution. For example, I had like 4 people look over this one line from my Despe/Douki fic: “Tu gatito encontró a tu alma gemela”
19. First fandom you wrote for?
I *would* have said Star Wars, but the discovery of my old notebooks from high school say otherwise. From wrestling I begin and to wrestling I returned.
20. Favorite fic you've written? For years, it was a whole lot more than riches and muscle, and I'm still super proud of that fic. But now? Can you paint our picture on a star? Just read that and the whole series and it would bring me the greatest joy Tagging anyone who sees this and wants to do it!
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Gendrya Kinktober Day 14- Strength/Muscle Kink
Call this a maple tree cause it’s full of sap. Find it on AO3 here.
The first time it happened Arya was 15 and Jon had dragged his roommate, Gendry, home for their first uni Spring Break. She’s sitting on the back porch reading Fahrenheit 451 for her honors Lit class soaking up the sun on the unusually nice spring day while Sansa sits in an adjacent lounge chair while working on a paper for her Civics class. The boys are in the yard playing footie when Jon calls for her to bring them some water.
She stands and stretches her arms over her head before stepping into the kitchen to grab an armful of water bottles, dropping two for herself and Sansa before stepping down onto the grass. Robb, Theon, and Jon stumbled over to her, shoving each other as they approach. She hands bottles to Robb and Jon and lobs Theon’s at his head as he makes a crack about her being their team mom. Gendry is much more hesitant. He’d been quiet most of the week, likely overwhelmed by the sheer number of Starks and assorted friends constantly traipsing through the house. She hands him the final bottle with a shy smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes it from her. She watches as he cracks it open and downs it, his throat bobbing as he drinks the entire bottle in one go. Then, he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, revealing his toned stomach and a smattering of dark hair across his broad chest. To her dismay, Arya’s face goes red before she quickly turns on her heel and bounding up the stairs and back to her chair to bury her face in her book to try and hide her blush. Sansa glances over with a single raised eyebrow but blessedly doesn’t say anything.
Arya doesn’t see him for a few years, long enough to have mostly forgotten about what she’d mentally dubbed “The Water Bottle Incident”. She’d decided to follow Jon to the University of Storm’s End and at the end of her first year was moving into an apartment off campus instead of returning north. Jon showed up at her dorm with a tall, dark haired guy to help her move, saying, “Arya, you remember Gendry? He has a truck so he’s helping,” before grabbing a box of books with the smaller box of desk supplies stacked on top of it and heading back out the door. Arya gaped at her brother before turning back to meet those blue eyes she remembered well. He had his massive hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans and just sort of shrugged at her before he too stepped around her and hefted her minifridge into his arms as he too walked out the still open door. Arya had to shake herself out of her stupor, grabbing her duffel bag and last box to follow the boys out. That fridge had taken both her and her roommate to bring up to the room and she’d taped it shut because she hadn’t felt like removing the drinks and snacks still stashed inside it and he'd lifted it like it weighed little more than a bag of groceries. The mental image of his biceps flexing stayed with her for the rest of the summer.
When they moved in together she remembered the way his arms bulged as him and Hot Pie moved her furniture, how biteable his arse looked as he squatted to lift her heavy bookshelf. Years of watching him play footie with his mates without his shirt still thrilled her. Him carrying her home in his arms after a few too many drinks at the pub and the number of times he’d held her up against a door, a wall, or with her arms around his neck would still make her blush. He’d step up behind her and wrap his arms around her, reminding her of how small she was compared to this massive man she’d fallen in love with. One memorable weekend when they visited Davos and Marya and he’d lifted a dresser so Marya could retrieve an earring that had fallen behind it like it was nothing, all the while his back flexing and Arya hoping she wasn’t drooling. The way his shirts would stretch across his chest and shoulders and those jeans of his that would strain across his thighs made her hands itch to caress him. She loved to watch her gentle giant play with their nieces and nephews, to watch him pick the little ones up and throw them over his shoulder with no trouble, having several of them hanging off him at once while they played in the yard.
It wasn’t just his physical strength that attracted her either. It was also the way he’d dropped everything and raced to the Vale when Maya’s mom had passed, how he’d held his half-sister’s hand all through the funeral as she wept. How Bella would turn to him for advice and support and Barra would climb into his lap for him to tell her a story. That his friends would turn to him for a listening ear and a steady hand. It was the time he cried in her arms on the anniversary of his mother’s death when he realized he’d been without her longer than he’d had her. The way his rough exterior hid a gentle heart and a fire in his soul. Arya knew she could rely on him for anything, could tell him anything, share the darkest, ugliest parts of herself and know that he wouldn’t look at her with anything less than love in his eyes. He knew every inch of her, inside and out. Knew when she needed his physical strength and when she needed his gentleness. Knew when to fight for her, but more importantly, when to step back and let her fight for herself.
One day his physical strength would undoubtedly wane, time and age moving inexorably on. But that inner strength was his foundation and he would stand strong in there forever.
#gendrya kinktober#day 14 strength/muscle kink#Arya is soft#the author is very tired#gendrya#gendrya fanfic#arya stark#gendry waters#my writing#i may rewrite this prompt later because i love it#i just haven't slept more than five hours in a night in about a week and a half
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Bet
Tengen Uzui x Fem!Reader
DNI if you are a MINOR or TRIGGERED BY DARK CONTENT
Kinktober 2021 - Day 16
You have to work hard if you want to be Tengen's fourth wife.
Choking kink, polyamory(?), con, ass fingering, deep throat, thigh fucking
11:55 pm
Long silver hair tickled your chest. Strong, calloused hands were wrapped around your neck. Powerful hips were aiming to split you in half.
"Don't faint, Y/N," he said. His red eyes glimmered with the full moon. He looked like a demon about to devour you.
You weren't planning on fainting. You were planning to win. You, Uzui and his three wives agreed that if you could last all night with Uzui, that you could join their little harem. Some people might not have approved of this decision, but you knew the benefits: a supportive and loving relationship with everyone involved, wealth, and power.
You promised yourself you wouldn't lose, but with his hands around your throat, you wavered. The lack of air had your pussy tightening up. You liked it because it heightened your other senses, letting you focus on the shape of his dick as he unapologetically fucked into you. You appreciated that he had the decency to not crush your trachea. He could make you submit to him if he kept this up.
Underneath his grip, Uzui watched carefully as your face reddened more and more, reminding himself to let go if you gave any indication that it was time to do so. He was surprised that you made your interests known to him, and was even more surprised that his three wives all agreed to a fourth. He felt a gush of wetness around his dick, bringing him back to the present.
You came. He pulled his hands away from your neck only to grab your waist and pull your hips up towards him. Your body convulsed at the overstimulation. You gasped, trying to escape, but he kept rutting into you and hitting that place, not letting you come down from your orgasm.
It was almost too much when he came into you. It was then that your body went limp, focusing only on staying conscious.
"You're gonna have to try harder than this," Tengen said, pulling out of you. He licked his lips while he watched his cum drip out of you.
Shakily, you willed yourself to sit up. You didn't have the energy to care about how his sperm trickled out and soiled the bedsheets. "I'm no quitter. Besides...you need to get it up again."
The former shinobi smirked.
1:31 am
Your head hung off the bed. Your fingers dug into Tengen's muscular thighs as he plunged his girthy dick into your throat. He could see your throat distend as he plowed you, his lust only growing more and more.
Tengen had a few seconds to fill your throat. The short intervals had him edging. After the seventh go-around, he needed to reach his peak. He made you take him all the way to his hilt while he wrapped his hands around your throat to increase the pressure. He knew he needed to work fast so he shortened his strides.
You were running out of air. His hands around your neck, and his dick inside your throat didn't leave much opportunity to breathe. Your eyes started to water. It didn't matter much, with all the saliva smeared around your face.
There was no way you could possibly continue like this. You needed to make him cum, and fast. You lubed your fingers with the saliva on your face, then stuck your thickest finger into his ass. You felt him jolt in surprise, his muscles stiffening. Thankfully, he relaxed quickly, getting lost in the sensations happening in his lower regions. You added another finger as you massaged his prostrate. You felt a surge of cum shoot out of his dick, his ass clenching down on your fingers.
Tengen let out a loud groan, and you pushed him off of you with all your strength. Once he was out, your body contorted on the mattress, coughing and gasping desperately for air.
3:14 am
Tengen was fucking you from behind. You were on all fours, your legs pressed closed. This position tightened you up and let him hit you g-spot better. Your hips rocked along with his tempo.
How was this man able to get this hard after so many rounds? You wondered if this was a result of having so many wives, or if he had so many wives because he could last for so many rounds.
"Uzui," you whispered, losing yourself in the ecstasy. He wrapped his arms around your chest and pulled you up so that you were on your knees as he kept thrusting into you. You arched your back. Your torso was shorter than his, so you were able to arch far enough that you could upside-down-kiss him. You felt his hands tighten around your throat again, keeping your head in place as his tongue explored your mouth.
You moaned, the intensity of the position sending you over the edge. The strain you were putting on your back was almost unbearable. You returned to all fours, resting your chest on the pillows as your hips continued to take Tengen's assault. You could feel your cum running down your thighs.
"Y/N, Y/N...you're so tight," Tengen said in a strained voice. He slapped your ass. Hard. Your pussy clenched. He did it ten more times until you heard him groan, followed closely by the feeling of his hot, thick cum erupting into your deepest parts.
5:47 am
Your brow was covered in sweat. Your chin was covered in saliva. Your thighs were covered in cum.
Almost there. You were almost there. You were riding on Tengen's cock and you were almost at an orgasm.
"Please...one more time...one more time..." you begged. You weren't even sure you were begging Tengen at this point. Perhaps you were begging yourself to last just one more round. Perhaps you were praying to any ethereal being that happened to be listening.
"You're doing so well..." Tengen cooed. He was caressing your thighs as they went into overtime, trying to chase a high that just wouldn't come. You felt like you were going to lose it if you didn't orgasm right then and there.
Sensing your urgency, Tengen pressed on your clit with his thumb.
"Press harder..." you asked, closing your eyes. You hoped that stunting one of your senses would heighten your sense of touch. Your breathing grew more and more ragged, your bouncing more and more animalistic.
And finally...finally, you came. Your thighs shook as you came down from your high. Tengen laid you gently on the bed, and pulled out.
"Wait," you objected, "You need to cum too..."
Tengen looked at you with wide eyes, surprised that you were still forming coherent sentences. "You really want to marry me."
"I want nothing more," you said weakly, fighting sleep away with every ounce of energy you had left.
Tengen smirked. He pulled your legs up and rested your ankles on his left shoulder, positioning his dick between your thighs. His arms wrapped around your legs, tightening their hold around his dick. He started thrusting. It wasn't as pleasurable for you, but you didn't care. You liked how he looked, losing himself while he used your body.
Soon, he came, white ropes spurting onto your stomach. He wiped you down with the blanket, before he fell beside you. He was panting, trying to catch his breath. His arm was flung haphazardly over his eyes.
You kissed his cheek, loving this side of him.
"We'll be married tomorrow," Tengen said.
"But the sun isn't up yet."
"No, but you win," he said as his eyelids grew heavy, "I can't keep up with you."
Reblogging is fine, but don't repost to Tumblr or any other platform without permission.
Tags: @mintyrae
#kny smut#kny fanfic#kny#kny tengen#tengen uzui smut#tengen uzui#uzui tengen#uzui smut#tengen smut#demon slayer fanfic#demon slayer smut#demon slayer tengen#demon slayer#kinktober 2021#kinktober
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just a couple months to go til october, so you know what it’s a good time for?
i love the idea of kinktober so i decided to make my own prompt list. the ones out there are fine but a bit slanted toward people who primarily make stuff about cis dudes having sex, so i wanted to try to make something a little more broad and inclusive + including some horror-themed prompts because halloween.
some prompts are intentionally vague to encourage creativity, but of course all of them can be interpreted however the creator wishes. multiple prompts are provided for each day to give people options; use one or use multiple, it’s up to you.
have fun!
text format below the cut:
1. lingerie . stripping . fetish wear 2. chastity . new experiences . insatiability 3. masturbation . public sex . group sex 4. spanking . rimming . anal sex 5. sensory deprivation . gags . somnophilia 6. rope bondage . impromptu bondage . metal restraints 7. monsterfucking . supernatural . movie night 8. sadism & masochism . bondage & discipline . vanilla 9. voyeurism . exhibitionism . phone sex/sexting 10. mommy/daddy kink . strength/muscles . body mods 11. breast play . kissing . fingering 12. sex work . dirty talk . roleplay 13. glory hole . blindfolds . miscommunication 14. hypnosis . ghosts . secret fling 15. fucking machine . technology . cyber sex 16. angry/hate sex . objectification . marking 17. g spot/prostate play . drag . grinding 18. blood . vampires . biting 19. pussy worship . cock worship . body worship 20. adrenaline . breath play . fear 21. dubcon . noncon/CNC . masks 22. identity porn . role reversal . power difference 23. gender play . body swap . praise kink 24. size difference . servitude . formal BDSM 25. pet play . werewolves . collars 26. oral sex . scissoring . intercrural sex 27. confinement . rituals . face sitting 28. pegging . double penetration . overstimulation 29. punishment . humiliation . interrogation 30. food porn . sex with strangers . costumes 31. intoxication . outdoors . temperature play
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okay but have y'all ever considered a female gai?
y'know. tall, big, BUFF gai - but a woman?
gai would still be gai obviously but imagine when puberty hits and her breasts start growing and her voice does not deepen as expected and kakashi suddenly has an oh moment.
there are a lot of oh moments during that time in their generation to which rin and kurenai can only shake their heads - boys are so dumb. kakashi is annoyed at himself; he prides himself at being observant but he didn't see that coming. of course he doesn't start treating her differently, but he does need a moment to adjust. his worldview has just been shattered after all.
(turns out he's not as gay as he thought - he's just gai-sexual)
at some point anko befriends gai. after all, girls have to stick together and freaks have to stick together and gai is both. (the latter are just murmurs she picked up but the moment she heard the word "freak" she knew what she had to do.) they're a rather terrifying duo.
during their adolescence anko tries to bring out the more feminine side of gai - to no avail. ("but anko, i can't fight properly if my breasts bounce like that! that's so unpractical!" "huh, why should i pluck my eyebrows?? i don't see how that's going to help my taijutsu?")
on one evening yuago manages to convince her to put on at least some lipstick with a stupid phrase about youth. (anko is so annoyed she didn't think of such a tactic herself.) kakashi almost has a heartattack. he hasn't blushed this much since the first time he picked up an icha icha book when he was 14. yuago is very smug and anko cackling madly. gai remains as oblivious as always.
obviously, she still has a bowl cut. suggesting otherwise would be blasphemy.
she gets mistaken for a man all the time because of her height, the big muscles and the bushy eyebrows. gai doesn't care - she's the great Green Beast of Konoha, that's all that matters. except for the opinion of her hip and cool Eternal Rival, duh.
when she gets a genin team assigned she's very Excited. lee is also very Excited. (when he accidentally calls her mom one time there are a lot of manly tears flooding the floor below them - yes, manly tears. she was raised by dai after all.) tenten is torn between "oh, a strong and competent kunoichi, a real role model!" and "fuck, that woman is weird". neji is just neji.
seeing gai and lee together for the first time raises many questions. mainly: what the fuck?? kakashi knows he's been pretty out of it during his anbu days, but he's sure he would've noticed if gai had been pregnant. right? right???!!! also, she would've been a very young teen, so it's pretty safe to assume lee is not her son. hopefully. but now he wonders if gai is still a virgin? they're adults so there's a good chance she might've had sex already but with whom?? why doesn't kakashi know about that??? and wow, that opens a whole new bag of feelings he rather kept close, so guess who's going on a month-long mission far, far away from the fire country to avoid dealing with said feelings.
madara totally falls in love with her during their fight. that man has a competency and strength kink (and also totally a thing for bowl cuts), of course he's instantly a goner. kakashi isn't a jealous or possessive character, it's just not him. but he really doesn't like the way madara looks at gai at all. even tho he knows gai will have forgotten madara's name tomorrow already. it's what gives him the necessary kick in the ass to finally make his move after the war.
gai is the big spoon, btw.
she also pegs kakashi until he only sees stars and can't move the next day, so there's that.
this post was brought to you by the horny gay part of my brain, you're welcome 💖
#maito gai#kakagai#hatake kakashi#i just. i rlly want a big buff female gai okay#i'm sure kashi wants that too#technically i'm a writer and could just write it myself#but to say it in the very wise words of the naras: ''what a drag''#so i'm just throwing this at y'all in the hopes someone else is going to give me what i want#:)#edit: OHMYGOD I FOUND A FIC!!!!!#AND IT HITS ALL THE SPOTS??????!!!!!!??????!!!!#why's there only one tho i need MOAR
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Glutton For Your Flavour (Obey Me: Beelzebub - NSFW)
Description: You’re about to become Beel’s next meal Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Spoilers for Lesson 5 of MS (hard). Please note potential trigger warnings: dub-con (as an inadvertent result of somnambulism), cunnilingus in two flavours (soft and rough), squirting and overstimulation, slight size kink, very faint hints of tetraphilia, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it blasphemy, slight fear (monstrous descriptions) Word Count: ~2900 words (~14 mins of smut & shenanigans) Author’s Notes: My very first fic for the Obey Me fandom! I know I’m late to the party, but I’ve recently started playing this game and the story and its characters are so amusing I had to write about it. This piece may not be to everyone’s taste, so please, please, please note the potential trigger warnings listed above and skip if it’s not your cup of tea. That being said, hope you all enjoy the read! 💕😆
🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔
“Bad luck to be sharing a room with Beel, but what can ya do after he destroyed yours while destroying the kitchen, and all for a dumb custard! Be careful — he might mistake you for a snack and eat ya in the middle of the night, hahaha!”
Mmm.
The scene fragments, Mammon’s face wavering as his voice grows faint, consciousness seeping into dark corners like sunlight cutting through fog. And when you open your eyes, you can’t quite place where you are for a moment, straddling the line between dreamscape and reality.
Ahh…
You sigh. There it was again, the sensation so pleasant it had roused you from the deepest slumber.
Further blinking off the haze of sleep, you take in your surroundings: a large bed lying empty across from yours in a room almost cavernous in size and just as dark save for a candle burning low on a desk, the glow of its flame orange like the hair that was currently brushing soft against your inner thighs—
“BEEL?! WHAT THE HELL?!”
“So tasty…not…enough…need more…want to…eat…zzz….”
Eyes still closed, the demon’s face is shiny even in the dark, slick from cheek to chin with what must’ve been a copious amount of his saliva and your arousal, you blush to realize. And when he doesn’t budge even after a swift kick to the face, you are ashamed to find the Lord of Flies’ show of strength sending yet another throb to your already pulsing clit.
He does wake though, Beelzebub’s amethyst eyes opening wide before he falls backwards onto the cold stone floor to realize what he had inadvertently done in his sleep. And as the always-famished sixth born looks from the shredded remnants of your panties to the pool of wetness on the sheets where his chin had rested, he becomes even more tongue-tied than usual.
“I…uh…I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…I dreamt I smelled something delicious and I was so hungry…and somehow I’m here, on the floor…I don’t even know…I-I’m so sorry!”
His cheeks grow so flushed they remind you of the red spider sandwiches he packed away during dinner, stuffing them two by two into his mouth until Satan smacked his hand away for trying to take more from his plate. The expression on his face is so full of remorse that even if you were angry, you’d be inclined to forgive the demon who was currently grovelling at the foot of your bed, swearing he would hand himself over to Lucifer and Diavolo first thing in the morning to be strung up and hung upside down for a fortnight, even (gulp) forgoing food for a day or two.
“Beelzebub…Beel…BEEL!” You shout, interrupting his self-inflicted tirade. “It’s okay, you didn’t mean it. You were sleepwalking. You don’t have to go to Lucifer and Diavolo about this.”
“No, I have to. My behaviour was inexcusable—”
“BEEL! Let’s…just…try to go back to sleep, okay? We have our midterm in Devildom law tomorrow morning and I really don’t feel like failing just because I didn’t get enough shut eye. So please, can we just pretend like this didn’t happen?”
Those orange brows are still furrowed when Beel finally lifts his head and nods. But then his gaze is falling again on the wet sheets and the shiver than runs through that larger-than-life body seems to send another wave of anxiety through the demon. He makes a mad dash for the door, murmuring something about getting a snack from the kitchen and “you can have the room tonight” before it slams shut behind him.
He doesn’t return for the rest of the night.
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The exam was so disastrous even Mammon didn’t bother sneaking another peek at your paper after the first two questions. And even if you had somehow managed to get back to sleep after last night’s ordeal, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that you were still distracted by the memory of Beel’s mouth on your pussy:
His long tongue, serpentine as it delved deep between swollen folds to taste you with gusto.
The way he rolled your clit between those plush, soft lips before sucking it into his hot mouth, over and over again.
The throbbing between your legs that refused to cease long after the Avatar of Gluttony had left the room you were temporarily sharing, sleep only forthcoming once you had succumbed and reached beneath the sheets to finish the job he had started, your moans licentious even to your ears as you pretended your fingers were his.
It was a pale imitation, of course. That much you could see for yourself, stealing a glance at Beel seated two rows down — quill twirling between long, dexterous digits when he wasn’t putting ink to parchment.
But those gigantic hands were just a small part of what made Beel demonically attractive, as if the word “small” could be applied to him at all: tall and built, there were times when even you envied the ease with which he maintained that perfect physique despite his penchant for shovelling enough food to feed all three realms into his mouth on the regular.
The same mouth which brought you so much pleasure the night before.
Ahem.
Clearing your throat, you pretend not to see the smirk that spreads across Asmo’s delicate face, hoping the lusty demon sitting just to your left wouldn’t pick up on the very secret thoughts you were having about his brother.
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[Private Chatroom]: Satan, Levi, Mammon, Asmo
Satan: This is going to sound crazy, but doesn’t it seem like Beel’s…hungrier than usual? Is that even possible?
Levi: OMFG! You should’ve seen the state of the kitchen this morning after Beel decided to camp out there overnight! It was a total war zone, like that epic battle scene in Vol. 5 of TSL lololol. Soooo good XDDDDD
Mammon: Hey! He’s gonna eat us outta house and home at this rate! Shouldn’t we stop him?
Satan: You do it, Mammon. Aren’t you always saying that there’s nothing The Great Mammon can’t do?
Mammon: …..
Asmo: Please, as if anyone — angel or demon — could come between Beel and a meal.
Satan: Why was he camping out there in the first place? Was there something wrong with his room? I don’t remember him complaining about anything since he got shacked up with the exchange student.
Levi: Not like he could, seeing as it was his fault to begin with and a direct order from Lucifer.
Asmo: Maybe we should ask her. I’m sure she knows something about what’s inciting his hunger judging by the way she kept staring at him in class today fufufu 😏 She almost failed her midterm because of it, isn’t that right, Mammon?
Mammon: ‼️‼️
[Mammon has left the chat]
Levi: He is sooooo transparent LMFAOOOO
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Gasp!
Pressing a hand to your mouth, you try to contain your shock at the sight that greets you when you peek around the corner into the kitchen:
Curved, ebony horns sitting majestically atop a head of disheveled orange hair. Thick, corded muscles that ripple across a broad back — readily apparently because the creature bent over a mountain of food on the ground was wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama bottoms, loose and slung so low over narrow hips that the sharp V defining his groin is visible even from the distance at which you stood.
Because this wasn’t quite what you were expecting to find when you made your way to the kitchen in the middle of the night to search for Beel, thinking to approach him about the peculiarity of his recent behaviour: the way he now ate constantly and was less satiated than before, the fact that he seemed to be going out of his way to avoid you even though you shared a room.
In fact, he hadn’t said so much as another word to you after he gave you two dozen of his prized custards the morning after the incident, apologizing again until you had to be the one to make him swear he wouldn’t breathe a word of it to Lucifer. The demon even made a beeline for the door as soon as he saw you emerge from the bathroom tonight, fresh from a shower.
It wasn’t hard to guess where he was headed.
Even still, you tried to focus on your textbook, reading the same line over and over again as you waited for Beel to return so you could have a proper conversation with the demon you made a pact with. And when you could wait no longer, you made your way towards his favourite room in the House of Lamentation — silently, so as not to draw the attention of the eldest sibling.
But the growls coming from the direction of the open fridge this time sounded like Cerberus himself, enough so that you find yourself rooted to the ground, unable to take another step forwards or back.
You had never seen Beel like this before, tearing into whatever he could get his hands on with a savagery that made your heart stop. Teeth, lips and tongue devoured without second thought in a way that was simultaneously terrifying and…
Throb.
…arousing.
Suddenly, he stills, throwing his head back to sniff the air once…twice…and in a flash, he is upon you, towering over your head as he rises to full height — bigger and taller and much more intimidating than you’ve ever seen him before.
You should have been scared. Any person in their right mind would have if they found themselves cornered by a demon of Beelzebub’s calibre. But the hands that balled into trembling fists at his sides made you feel oddly secure, your deepest instincts telling you that not all was as it seemed.
“You need to leave. Now…please.”
“What’s going on with you, Beel? I just want to help—” You reach for his arm. He jumps back as if burned.
“I SAID YOU NEED TO LEAVE! I-I…can’t hold back…for…much longer!”
Handsome face screwed up as if in pain, Beel turns to put as much distance as possible between the two of you, squatting on his haunches with his head in his hands when he murmurs:
“I…I don’t know what’s going on with me. This has never happened before. I’m hungrier than I’ve ever been. I eat and eat and eat and it still isn't enough. The last time I felt satisfied was when…when…”
His voice dies down to a whisper.
“…when I tasted you.”
Throb.
Putting out a hand, you steady yourself against the wall, knees suddenly weak at Beelzebub’s admission. Or perhaps it was due to relief, the tension that had been steadily building in your strained relationship with the demon released to know that you weren’t the only one who desired to revisit that night’s events.
So you gather your courage, stepping softly towards the demon who crouched on the ground next to the lit fireplace, the heat radiating from the hearth warming the flesh you had deliberately left bare when you lift the hem of your night gown to expose yourself to Beel.
“What are you doing?! I told you, I can barely hold back—”
“Then don’t. I don’t mind, Beel. I…I like it too.”
Amethyst eyes darken as they look up into yours, orange flames reflecting off pupils blown wide. And when he speaks next, the deepness of his voice echoes in your body, as if its source were to be found within your own soul.
“Ask and ye shall receive. I won’t touch you until you do.”
Nipples hardening beneath your gown, the rush of heat that floods your core makes you shudder when you say,
“Please, Beelzebub…I want you to eat my pussy.”
Back hitting solid wood, you barely have time to gasp before you are pulled to the edge of a long table in the centre of the kitchen, a long tongue running up the insides of each thigh in turn before they’re propped up onto broad shoulders, Beel’s breath blowing hot on the space in between.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can hold back. I’m just…so famished, so desperate to taste you again—”
His words cut off in a low growl as he presses his lips to your folds, saliva dripping from his mouth mixing with the juices that already painted a glistening sheen on pink flesh. You fight to bite back a moan at the vehemence of his hunger, the sheer greed of his tongue — flicking at your clit until your back arched off the table, heralding the arrival of the cream that leaked only to be swept up by Beel licking from end to end of that swollen seam. And when that still wasn’t enough, you nearly swooned to feel that serpentine tongue penetrate, reaching depths that surely only a demon would be able to achieve as Beel sought out more of your flavour.
He buries his face deeper into your pussy, nose nudging your clit as arousal smeared over the entirely of his visage. The vibrations of his voice further stimulates your locus of pleasure, punctuating the lewd, wet sounds when he says:
“You smell so delicious. All the time. And tonight, when you stepped out of the shower…I couldn’t take it, not with the way your scent flooded my senses. I had to leave or else…this would happen.”
“Oh Beel…you should’ve told me sooner.”
Mind lost in a haze of lust and body boneless from riding out wave after climatic wave, you reach down a trembling hand without thinking, fingers innocently tracing along the smooth ridges of the onyx horns that lay against your abdomen.
Suddenly, his breath hitches at your touch and the Sixth Prince of Hell is throwing his head back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a moan loud and deep enough to reverberate off stone walls, clattering stacks of dishes in cupboards and making you come once more — legs convulsing upon his shoulders as you feel a preponderance of fluid gush forth from your body right into Beel’s waiting mouth.
The pleasure was such that you’ve never known before, so good that surely, it must be bad in some way, shape or form. But you hadn’t the energy to ponder further.
No, the only thing you’re aware of when your vision goes black is that Beel’s mouth is still on you, feasting upon a pussy that continued to respond to the teasing movements of his lips and tongue even as you ceased to think.
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Cheddar. Pickles. Ketchup and mustard.
The smell is what rouses you, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw when you awoke in your own bed: mountains of cheeseburgers arranged on platters filling up every available surface in the room you shared with Beel.
“You can sleep for longer if you want. I told Lucifer you’d be skipping class today because you’re not feeling well. Are you…feeling well?”
Beelzebub lifts his head from where it’d been resting at the side of your bed, the rest of his body laid out on the floor as if he were guarding you like an oversized dog. Those puppy dog eyes, full of concern, didn’t help his case either.
“I’m fine, Beel. Better than fine, actually. I feel fantastic!” You smile, moving to sit up in bed. The demon springs from the ground, putting an arm around your shoulders to help prop you up, and your heart can’t help but warm at how protective he was being.
He breathes, relief flooding those handsome features. “I’m glad. I was afraid I lost control last night and had to carry you back. You were just…so tasty and…satisfying…”
Those amethyst eyes glint as they travel to the apex of your thighs, and all of a sudden, he is grabbing at those human world cheeseburgers, shoving them into his mouth two at a time.
“Have some,” he says between bites. “They’re my favourite and I thought you might like them too. Besides, you need to eat if you’re gonna keep up your energy.”
You reach towards the nearest platter, taking one for yourself. “Energy for what?”
Beel looks at you, expression completely serious when he says, “For the next round tonight.”
Throb.
🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔🍔
Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚
#obey me#shall we date obey me#OM#swd obey me#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel#OM beel#obey me smut#OM smut#obey me beel smut#obey me fanfic#fanfiction#my writing
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lead me to the promised land
part two of “Pillar of Salt”
Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)
Warnings: NSFW - language, kissing, heavy petting, dom!Boba, gagging/choking, marks and bruises of the Spicy nature, hand and finger kink, allusions to canon-typical violence
Word Count: 2k
Gif Credit: (x) by @/tylowen
A/N: good day gremlins i am not very good at updating but i bring u some fun times as penance pls forgive me
༓ series masterlist ༓
7:00 PM: T-MINUS 14 HOURS UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE
You were used to being moved around by other people, poked and prodded and lifted up so that stays could be tied or burdensome headpieces be attached to your head. Shuffled around to smile and be proper, sedated by heavy skirts and perfume. It was a fact of life.
Your dress was unlaced by the mechanical hands of an attendant, the change happening quickly and without fond regard from any party. It was early evening now and the sky peeled itself into a burnt orange. If you closed your eyes, you could almost taste citrus.
“Careful, please,” you whispered with a slight wince as the woman’s thin fingers brushed against your neck, both of your reflections cast warm in the mirror you now stood in front of. They were almost-bruises. Little ghost flower petals. Delicate and pretty, trailing behind your neck and not quite noticeable.
The woman only nodded. Servants weren’t ones to ask questions.
⫸ ———————————————————————————— ⫷
3:25 PM: T-MINUS 17 HOURS AND 35 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE
The world seemed to tip on its axis, spinning too fast and not at all. It’d only been a minute, maybe two, but Boba’s words hung out to dry in the summer air and there was nothing else to do but wait for the actions to fulfill themselves. It shouldn’t have been as easy as it was to let him keep kissing you, but you only broke away to warn in a jolted, harsh whisper when his touch became too sharp. “Don’t leave any marks.”
“Are you commanding me?” Boba sneered, his voice slightly cruel as his gloved thumbs rubbed circles into your hip bones. You didn’t bother opening your eyes to look at him, letting his mouth skid over your jaw. Your answering yes or no wouldn’t make much of a difference. You had the feeling he would do what he liked either way. You had the feeling you’d let him.
It was strange, too fast. Too fast because really, what did you know about Boba? Were you even on first name terms? He’d never called you your name, and you’d never called him his. You’d only known of him for a few weeks. Had truly talked to him for even less than that. Maybe you should stay a capitalized Princess and he should be “Fett.” For the sake of clinicality.
Letting him lift you up and onto his lap was most definitely not clinical. “That depends,” you croaked out after a moment, finally looking at his face in your half-stupor. He’d sat you up to face him and you’d gone with, pliable and keening. Being champagne drunk felt like this; like his eyes coal-black and the way he seemed to take up everything in your mind until there was no room for reason. You traced over the scar on his forehead with a light mouth, knees bowed to nestle closer and every muscle in your body flexing, tensed as if dripped over with sunshine. “Are you going to listen?”
The smile of a predator was the only answer he gave you.
⫸ ————————————⫷
3:30 PM: T-MINUS 17 HOURS AND 30 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE
Men were vile. They had clammy hands that wandered to your thighs at banquet dinners, slimy mouths when they pressed their lips to your hand in greeting. They were all insufferable and you promised never to go near one as long as you could help it. But promises were a boring thing to keep sometimes. They were much more fun to break.
Boba spoke but it was swallowed in your interlocking mouths, hungry and escalating desperate. You were still sitting with—on?—him, too cowardly to do anything more than kiss and let yourself be felt by the strength of a man’s greed. He tasted like teeth and blood and pink flesh. That was the thing that no one had ever told you about kisses; about men like him. They tasted like broken skin.
You were eating Boba whole. He was eating you piece by piece.
You were just kissing. Had been just kissing for what seemed like ages but was actually only fifteen standard minutes. Fifteen standard minutes for your stays to be dragged loose, your lips to be bitten plush, and both sandals abandoned somewhere in the slow scramble. It wasn’t so much desperation as it was just a sheer curiosity goading your irrationality, but the end result was the same: a man squeezing the back of your neck, calling you lovely in the same breath he called you naive.
“Take them off,” you almost demanded, pulling desperately at his gloves as the warm leather dragged against your fingernails. Learned manners were added in as an afterthought. “Please.”
His one-handed grip on your thigh tightened. It would bruise, likely. Raise questions, definitely. You would have to chalk it up to something else. A fall. A bad trip on a set of stairs. Anything besides what was happening now. The words rumbled against your chest and registered vaguely as a threat. “What was that?”
Huffy and impatient, you answered in a much more keening, undignified echo. “Please, pleasepleaseplease—”
Boba put his fingers in your mouth.
Boba put his fingers in your mouth.
Stuffed was the more apt word. You tried not to think about how he could only fit two of them inside without hurting you. It made you feel temperature-hot, physically burning until your cheeks and your insides twisted into smoldering ash because his fingers breached the alabaster edges of your teeth until they almost gagged you on your own tongue. Boba drew his hand back only when you sighed around it, sedated with fluttering eyes and no longer asking questions. His voice seemed to get deeper, raspier around the unplaceable accent from a place you’d never heard of and probably never would. “Good girl.”
The gloves stayed on. Why they did and why you couldn’t just get him to do what you wanted like everyone else you had no idea, but your frustration quickly ebbed into hazy, sparking pleasure. He called you good. You liked being good.
Your hips stuttered when they caught on Boba’s trousers and suddenly you were giggling into the thick muscle of his shoulder, quiet and juvenile in your own disbelief. Everything about this was absurd and inappropriate, which formed the basis of your amusement. It was something to play with. Someone. Big and shiny in the most literal sense of the word.
The hunter let out what could be construed as a laugh but sounded more akin to a growl and two large palms settled again on the soft rise of your hips. “Not here,” he repeated into your jaw, the words that were previously muffled so long ago now clearer. Not here. Which implied a theoretical somewhere other than here where you would possibly, hypothetically be doing more than- “We need to go.”
You should go. You should be pushing him off of you and running and screaming or something equally inflammatory because this was… because his...
“No,” you protested weakly with a slow shake of your head. Your hands curled around his pauldrons and rested there, limp and slightly shaking. “No, they- they didn’t actually need me for anything. My father just had to—oh Maker-” his cuisse plate pressed up hard between the warm softness of your thighs. “—had to send someone out to search for me—” you rutted against his leg once, twice before the arms around your waist tightened again and inhibited any further attempts at movement. You recovered from the loss of friction quickly, instead letting yourself sag into his solid chest as one set of fingertips dragged along your spine. “—’s just a poor look for him not to,” you finished flippantly, barely audible from where your face settled smushed against the creep of stubble on his cheek. “Bad press.”
“I’ve still got places to be, princess. Even if you don’t.”
“Oh I’m terribly sorry,” you tried replying sarcastically as his mouth flattened against the thin skin of your neck. His lips were soft, but they pressed against you like anything but. You tried rolling your hips again but were thwarted. “Am I in the way of a prior engagement?”
“Something like that.”
“Well then,” you flattened your palms against his chest plate and broke away from the seal of his touch. It wasn’t fair. You couldn’t breathe right and looked like you’d been dragged through a sarlacc pit, but he was just sitting there. Watching you. His eyes were hungry though. “Why let me keep you?” The words were shot through with airy exhales as you were lifted up off the smooth stone. “I was under the impression that you hated me,” you continued into Boba’s neck with hands curled around the dark curls at its nape.
You did think that, before… this. Now you didn’t know what to believe, what his intentions were. Most likely they were the same as yours. Nothing good.
Whatever either of your motivations were, they would have to be paused now. For his mysterious, vague “engagement” and probably for the betterment of your health, because you were certain if you stayed here with him, shielded away from prying eyes and marching men, your heart would burst right out of your chest and through your ears.
Your legs wobbled slightly when he set you standing on the ground, Boba’s helmet still laying on the fountain’s edge, and you handed it to him with a reverence that belayed the previous minute’s informality. When it was restored to his head you found yourself mourning the loss of his face. You’d been spoiled this last hour. You didn’t like not seeing it anymore.
“I don’t.” was his short reply. What a wordsmith.
“Aren’t you still my escort?” you huffed, trying to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell in panted inhales. Wiping haphazardly at your mouth, you leaned over the fountain’s reflection and attempted to compose yourself. The circlet usually pinned neatly to your head lay crooked and loose, glimmering its delicate metals in the daylight as you fussed with it this way and that. The pool of water currently acting as a mirror rippled too much to be of any real use. You pressed your palms to your flushed cheeks and mumbled. “My penitentiary guard, more like.”
Boba turned you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders and you imagined his eyes to still be edged in charcoal embers. The last smudge of lipstick on your chin was rubbed away by a broad thumb and you watched, curious to his intentions and surprised at his actions, when he reached up to right your crown.
“Let’s go, princess.”
You didn’t argue. You’d been sated from rebellion for the time being.
⫸ ————————————⫷
4:10 PM: T-MINUS 15 HOURS AND 50 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE
The mercenary stood by the side entrance watching you.
“You look a mess!” your mother admonished, harried with the exertion of the day’s events that you somehow managed not to be privy to. Apparently there was to be a dinner with the guests leaving the next morning, and apparently you specifically were asked to be present. Both would be dull pieces of information on the best of days but now, after the events that had just transpired, they were positively brain-numbing.
The queen consort motioned for you to turn around and you complied with a slow spin as your being was examined for minor casualties. Once the woman assured herself of your being alive and unharmed, barely registering the tall figure that stood mere yards away, she allowed herself more frantic inquiries as she shuffled you down the hallway. “What were you doing out there?”
“Oh nothing,” you answered vaguely, eyes trailing as far back towards the doors as they could go without actually turning your head. There was a flash of green armor. “I just wanted to take a walk, is all.” You turned to her and smiled your best attempt at a brilliant, royal-white assurance. “Clear my head.”
#boba fett x reader#boba fett/reader#boba fett x you#boba fett fanfiction#boba fett fanfic#boba fett oneshot#boba fett imagine#boba fett
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Kinktober 2020
Like last year, I'm making my own Kinktober list for 2020! I'll be using the same kinks from last time, but rearranging them for some fresh variety in choices each day!
There's 4 options per day, which means there’s a total of 120 potential prompts to choose from! Just like last year's post, the list was randomized!
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1. Pegging | Boot Worship | Stripping/Striptease | Titfucking
2. Breast Worship | Gags | Prostitution/Sex Work | Lactation
3. Sleepy Sex | Food Play | Ageplay/ABDL | Praise Kink
4. Feederism | Olfactophilia (Scent) | Gagging | Nipple Play
5. Double (or more) Penetration | Master/Slave | Blood/Gore | Tickling
6. Cuckolding | Distention | Shibari | Roleplay
7. Fisting | Public | Dirty Talk | Emeto (Vomit)
8. Spit-Roasting | Handjobs | Orgasm Delay/Denial | Cross-Dressing
9. Spanking | Bondage | Stuck In A Wall | Gun Play
10. Asphyxiation | Suspension | Frottage | Leather
11. Hypnosis | Micro/Macro | Sensory Deprivation | Weight Gain
12. Threesome (or more) | Piss (Watersports, Omorashi, Urophagia, etc.) | Uniforms | Role Reversal
13. Smiles/Laughter | Toys | Monster/Demon Fucking | Edgeplay
14. Fucking Machine | Humiliation | Feet | Cock-Warming
15. Hate-Fucking/Angry Sex | Impact Play | Knife Play | Deep-Throating
16. Small Dick Humiliation | Glory Hole | Collaring | Scat (Poop)
17. Alpha/Beta/Omega | Wax Play | Branding | Cock and Ball Torture/Ballbusting
18. Underwear | Wedgies | Hot-Dogging | Latex
19. Aphrodisiacs | Pet Play | Vore | Hair-Pulling
20. Biting | Lingerie or Stockings/Tights/Pantyhose | Intercrural Sex | Distant/Distracted Sex
21. Chastity | Seduction | Straitjacket | Inflation
22. Mirror Sex | Daddy/Mommy | Cunnilingus | Face Sitting
23. Bukakke | Shotgunning | Licking | Oviposition
24. Formal Wear | Begging | Rimming/Analingus | Masturbation
25. Cock Worship | Erotic Dancing (Lap Dancing, Pole Dancing, etc.) | Overstimulation | Exhibitionism/Voyeurism
26. Ass Worship | Shower/Bath Sex | Size Difference | Creampie
27. Tentacles | Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscle) | Costumes or Masks | Medical Play
28. Sadism/Masochism | Bonds (Telepathic or Empathic) | Degradation | Dacryphilia (Crying)
29. Forniphilia (Human Furniture) | Tribadism/Scissoring | Body Worship | Object Insertion or Sounding
30. Temperature Play | Sixty-Nine | Non-Con/Dub-Con | Xenophilia
31. Free Day!
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Note: This isn’t really a formal challenge or anything! You can switch out any kinks you'd like to fit your own personal interests. And you don't have to do every single day, either! Some of you might be picky and only choose your favorites, and that's okay! There is no deadline either, so feel free to take your time with the prompts.
So with that being said: have fun and make some nice, filthy things in October of 2020!
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Hey what is omegaverse?? (I’m just kinda curious on what it is)
-Hi! Don’t worry, I’ll give you a quick rundown over some of the basics of Omegaverse, what it is, and some of the popular vocabulary that’s used in it.
Omegaverse is a popular fiction Alternate Universe, or AU. Many suspect it to be kink based,and for many it is, but that’s not the case for me as I personally enjoy it for its hierarchy and some of the headcanons, theories, and other things that come from it. It tends to be used mostly in Gay fanfiction since one of the biggest appeals is Male pregnancy, or Mpreg. This specific AU is also known as A/B/O since everybody are usually divided into 3 Categories. Alpha, Beta, and Omega. Also your gender doesn’t affect if you are an Alpha, Beta, or Omega
This is how I personally see each of the three, but this is just my opinion. If you want to see other examples or opinions, there are plenty of Omegaverse blogs like @omegaverse-professor and @omegaverse-seeker that you can reference for more information, but none of these are “Official” since omegaverse is up to ones own interpretation.
Alpha: Alphas are usually written to be bigger, stronger, and the more dominant people in Omegaverse. These are the people who are able to impregnate a Beta female or an Omega, and their scents are usually not that sweet, but it can truly range since no two people can have the same scent. Alphas are stereotyped to be more aggressive, protective, and quicker to pick a fight. According to these stereotypes, Bakugo would be a great example of somebody who would usually be classed as an Alpha due to his hothead personality and his physical strength. Finally, Alphas have something that is called a rut. Its pretty much a heat cycle that all Alphas go through for a varied amount of time, I usually write about 5 to 9 days, and they can experience a wide variety of symptoms. I usually say they are extremely aroused, and sometimes can loose their sense of reason around Omegas. When they are experiencing a rut, it isn’t uncommon for an Alpha to lock themselves in their room, only coming out in between waves to get food, drink water, or go to the bathroom.
Beta: Betas are pretty much your everyday human but with a few exceptions. Some write that betas do not have scent glands, but I personally enjoy writing that their scent is just weaker than that of an Alpha or an Omega. Male Betas can have children with Omegas or Female Betas, and Female Betas can have a Beta male or an Alphas child. I would personally say that Denki or Ochaco are the first people I think of when I think of a Beta. These are just your normal, everyday people like you or me.
Omega: The main appeal of Omegas is that they can get pregnant no matter their gender. Their scents tend to be sweeter, they are often depicted as soft, submissive, delicate, and even feminine. They are also the most discriminated against when it comes to the 3 due to their stereotypes, their heats, and the classic trope of Omegas being more of a “Stay at home” Parent. If I look at class 1A, the one that stands out most to me would be Aoyama due to his feminine nature and more submissive personality. Omegas also go through something called heats. They are sort of similar to an Alphas rut, but are quite a bit harsher. As an Alpha in a rut may only experience Arousal and possibly mild discomfort, an Omega in heat can have many issues. Look in the Vocab for more about that.
Now I personally challenge these tropes by writing more submissive Alphas, Dominant Omegas, Alpha x Alpha relationships, Omega x Omega relationships, even Polyamory relationships. Not saying that these tropes are bad, but I use them more as foundations to build off of instead of relying on.
Now for vocab and definitions of terms you will hear me write about a lot.
Heat(s): A heat is the process an omega goes through when they are at their most fertile. I write that their heat will usually come in waves, so in between these extreme waves, they will usually eat, take care of themselves, go shower, and might text a trusted friend to let them know they are okay. When they have a mate, the time of their heat significantly reduces to about 3-7 days most. Without a lover, they are extended to about 12-14 days. Symptoms of a heat may be things like Fevers, discomfort, body aches, extreme arousal, dizziness, weakness and forgetfulness. During this time their scent also becomes much stronger, which could attract the attention of unwanted alphas, so they usually lock themselves in their bedrooms. They also spend the majority of their heat in their nest.
Nest(s): A nest is something that an Omega will build in order to cause comfort during times of stress, or relief before a heat begins. They are often depicted as piles of clothes, blankets, pillows, or stuffed animals. They are usually also made in places like the corner of the room, beds, or inside of a closet. In fact, This Post by user @golden-abo is an amazing example of nests.
Growling: A sound often created as a way to intimidate or show irritation. Usually created by pissed off Alphas, or an Omega when somebody gets too close to their nest.
Purring: Purring is a noise created by Omegas when they feel safe or content, but it is also a noise that can be created by Alphas when they are happy or feeling pampered.
Courting: Courting is often described like dating. The way I personally write it is inspired by @plainbrunettelbl since her Omegaverse writing is hands down some of the best I have ever read. In my version, you usually have somebody give their love interest a series of gifts as a way of expressing their interest in them There will always be a handmade gift as well, since it is seen as a huge compliment for one to take so much time in order to make you a gift. Alphas will usually make things like meals, bracelets, blankets, or stuffed animals to give. Betas often make things depending on the interest of who they are courting, and Omegas often make clothes, food, and usually will ask their love interest to scent things for them.
Mates: As said perfectly by This Post By writer (@Creating_Quaintrelle) on Wattpad or @otaku-omegaverse here on tumblr, “Mates are when two individuals have created a strong romantic and sexual bond with each other that usually entails an Alpha or Beta placing a “Mating Mark” On their Significant others neck by using their sharp teeth on the others Scent gland to establish that this person is their mate” In other words, Mates are pretty much an extreme marriage. You become mated with somebody during sex as well by biting on their scent gland with teeth until it usually bleeds. After, it will scar in a way that lets others know that the person with the mark, has a lover.
Scenting: Alphas, Omegas, and Betas all give off a very specific sort of scent as a way to claim things as their own. They all have the ability to scent another person or object by a process that is often described as rubbing their scent glands, often located on the neck, wrists, and inner thighs, against whatever it is they want to scent. I also write this as a way some show affection, the first step of dating or “Courting”, and as a way to calm somebody when they are stressed or upset.
Suppressants: Medication given to Alpha or Omega in order to stop things like heats, ruts, or calm ones scent. Omegas often use suppressants in order to pursue jobs, or if they are just uncomfortable with their heats or the idea of having children. Think of it like Birth control for everybody.
Pups: A term for children in general. Children as in newborns, toddlers, and preteens.
Knot or Knotting (More NSFW): A Knot is often described similarly to a ball of tissue or muscle that appears at the base of an Alphas genitalia, regardless of gender, during sex. A knot is what an Omega in heat usually craves, and a knot will lock the two people in place during an orgasm to help increase the likelihood of conception. These Knots will also lock the two parties together for up to an hour before it deflates.
Slick (More NSFW): A word describing the self-lubrication that Omega creates when aroused, but is created intensely when an Omega is in heat.
I hope this pretty much covers everything! Please feel free to ask me about any other things you could want my opinion on though. Also, please check out those who are linked in this post because they make absolutely amazing content that I recommend for those interested about Omegaverse.
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Gendrya Kinktober Day 14: strength/muscle kink
As they get ready to leave, he helps her into her leather jacket, running his hand down her back and delighting in her slight shiver. What other reactions could he elicit from her?
Arya pulls him across the street back to the studio, fumbling with her keys.
“Is your boss going to be mad?” he whispers.
“I am the boss,” she answers, and her words do something to him. “I own the place.”
Arya takes his hand in hers and leads him into the studio. The blinds are down but she doesn’t turn on the light. Doesn’t want anyone outside to see what they do next.
A Modern AU with ballerina!Arya and bartender!Gendry
Read on AO3
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Miles of skin
summary: there’s so much dan loves, it’s hard to list it all
genre: fluff,
warnings:swearing, sexual scenes (not too detailed), lots of body imagery
hair
When Dan was 18 and dreaming up his ideal partner, it never started with black, straight hair. It was usually blonde, maybe slightly ginger, and swept away from their face. his ideal man was a model. he thought of them stood on a beach, perhaps, their hair blowing in the wind. jaw strong and chiselled, Dan much smaller, nestled in their arms like a prize.
But Phil, he wasn’t like that. Phil had hair as black as anything, in a straight fringe across his forehead. he wasn’t a chiselled model, and he certainly wasn’t much taller than Dan. when he stood on the beach, he squinted and complained that his glasses were going to blow away, and took time to swipe his hair away from said glasses. Dan couldn’t stand nestled under his arm, more like the other way round. but Phil was special. As Dan got older, he realised that the perfect guy wasn’t perfect. His Phil wasn’t perfect, either. But he was the closest, he thinks, he could ever get. He didn’t want perfect, anymore, he wanted his Phil. His Phil with the stupid straight emo hair that, when he got older, started being pushed into a quiff. Phil looked sexy with a quiff.
eyes
Dan had never been one for beautiful eyes. he didn’t look into someone’s eyes and feel taken away by their colour, or shape, or size. when he was younger, he struggled to look into people’s eyes, anyway, preferring to cast his gaze between their eyebrows or down at the floor. he struggled to feel any connections and he certainly did not believe eyes could hold pain or happiness. he just didn’t believe it. he hated his own eyes, too. he hated their colour and the almond shape, his obnoxiously long eyelashes that curled into his eyes sometimes and hurt. but, then he met Phil.
it was when Dan saw a picture of Phil that he started to doubt his own intuition. you could go swimming in those eyes he thought. in fact, he commented it, right there on the very photo. the camera he used for YouTube did no justice. when they met, it was the first pair of eyes Dan could look straight into. the first pair he could see love brimming in, focused solely on him. Dan was elated. it was the first pair he saw the pain in, shown by shed tears as they hugged goodbye at the train station. it was the first he saw untainted happiness in when Dan agreed to move in with him after announcing he would be attending Manchester university. they were, undoubtedly, just eyes. but my god, they were the most beautiful pair Dan had ever seen. though, Phil.s favourite activity was to argue that Dan's were, in fact, the “most beautiful plus 1.”
lips
Dan always thought lips were just lips. he didn’t understand why he was so chapped, he didn’t understand why people got injections to plump them up, he didn’t understand at all. the only time he really concentrated on people’s lips was when he couldn’t be bothered listening to what they were saying, so he’d lip-read instead, albeit rather unsuccessfully. he never looked at someone and thought fuck, they should do something about that or wow I wish I could kiss them. well, until he met Phil, of course.
after he’d noticed Phil's eyes, his gaze wandered down to his lips. plump and inviting, pink and so smooth. Dan suddenly felt the need to apply five tubs of Vaseline. he stared at Phil’s lips the day they met, and not just to lip read. Phil didn’t really hint at much, but Dan saw how his lips curved into a smirk, obviously. they’d gotten on the Manchester eye, hands clasped between them. Dan thought he’d been subtle. Phil had bitten his lip, Dan had reciprocated without thinking. that’s when he was kissed. soft and gentle, unsure yet so passionately. it was wonderful, chapped against smooth. Dan reiterated his apologies for his chapped lips. Phil laughed and stroked his thumb along the bottom one, pulling it and watching it ping back into place. another gentle kiss. you’re perfect.
neck
Dan didn’t have a neck kink, he told himself, he just found it really fucking arousing when someone kissed his neck. or if he was indulging himself alone, or perhaps on Skype to Phil, he swiped his thumb along the side now and then, gasping at the spark of unadulterated pleasure. but he didn’t have a neck kink. Phil changed things for him, though.
the first time they made love was wonderful. Dan experienced things he’d never felt, just taking and taking from Phil's body, only able to emit the smallest gasps of love. Phil gave it all to him, never held back. he showed Dan what he’d been missing.
they were moulded together, one entity. Phil buried deep inside him, his head tugged into his neck as he whispered encouraging words. Dan’s eyes were squeezed shut, alleviating his senses most deliciously. that’s when Phil had whimpered against his neck, the blow of hot hair making Dan tip his head back and let out an almost scream. a quiet scream, no doubt. Phil had smirked, pulling back to look at Dan’s face (which was turning more crimson by the second.)
“you’re beautiful,” Phil had whispered, kissing the corner of Dan’s mouth before moving back to his neck. he started kissing at first, barely applying much pressure, revelling in the short intake of breath from Dan’s mouth. then he applied more pressure before he was nibbling at Dan’s neck, moving along until he found the place that made Dan tense up, letting out a shrill moan and a large breath of air. Phil kept at this spot, sucking and sucking until the mark bloomed up against the pale skin of Dan’s neck.
Dan had come with a shout and then a whisper of Phil's name, Phil's mouth against his neck and his tip pressing against the most sensitive place inside of him. Dan vowed to never let anyone love him the way Phil did ever again.
shoulders
shoulders were never something Dan thought about. they usually resided underneath someone's clothes, occasionally flexing when the person lifted something or wrote. it was never anything special, nothing that made Dan want to strike up a conversation with a person or beg them to pin him down to a mattress. they were shoulders.
when he met Phil, he noticed that Phil's shoulders were broad. they were the type of shoulders you would associate with a man, though stereotypical. when Dan hugged him for the first time, he allowed himself to notice the muscle under his shirt, allowing his hands to find a home on top of them when they pulled away, not-so-discretely squeezing. Phil was his boyfriend, his man. he was the one Dan cuddled up to, a hand placed over his heart, head bracketed between Phil's chin and his shoulders, loved and protected from the whole world. dan felt pretty damn undefeatable with his head nestled there. he was the one who let Dan throw his arms around his neck when he was happy or encased him when he cried or screamed. he was the one who used the strength within those shoulders and arms to carry Dan to bed when he fell asleep on the sofa. he was nothing less than the love of dance life and his shoulders, though minor, were strong. they were Dan’s favourite place to sleep and his favourite place to wake up.
tummy
Phil always joked over messenger about actually having a dad bod hidden beneath the camera.
“id love you all the same,” Dan insisted every time, fondness twinkling in his eyes. Phil would smirk, leaning closer to the camera with his tongue caught between his teeth. Dan longed to be with him.
when Dan saw the first full body picture of Phil, his jaw literally dropped. Phil was beautiful, Dan had known that even just from looking at his face, but seeing his whole body was something Dan kept locked in his mind all the time. Phil was hot. not just hot, but hot. he was something Dan would've never dreamed of because his mind wasn't capable of conjuring something so wonderful. Phil had sent it to him shyly, telling Dan to check his messages whilst they were on Skype. Dan had stared at the picture for too long, only remembering he was on a video call when he heard Phil cough. he looked up just in time to see Phil cast his eyes down, blushing and his lip pulled between his teeth.
“you're fucking beautiful, Phil Lester,” Dan had whimpered, tears in his eyes. “I want to be with you so bad right now.”
“what, you don't think I'm too fat, hm?” Phil had whispered. Dan suddenly realised all of his jokes, were actually issues. Dan had stared at the screen, not quite sure what to say, not quite sure how to articulate what a fucking masterpiece Phil Lester was.
“I say this with all the love I can muster,” Dan had said. “shut the fuck up.”
Phil had giggled, finally looking back at Dan.
“Phil, how’d I get so lucky?” Dan settled on, shaking his head in disbelief.
Phil had never needed to complain about his appearance after that, because every day, Dan told him he was beautiful.
to this day in 2020, Dan tells him he's beautiful. whether its when Dan wakes up first and watches Phil for a while before carding a hand through his hair and muttering a “you're pretty, Lester,” or whether it's after a shower when Phil's skin is dry and flaky, and he's squinting trying to see through the fog without his glasses (Dan will usually slip his glasses back on, kiss the tip of his nose, unravel the towel from around his waist, and drop to his knees. Phil doesn't need words at times like this.)
legs
growing up, Dan had always had little stumpy legs that kept him below shoulder height of everyone. people made jokes about how his little legs couldn’t keep up in the playground, or his mother would tell him his legs were too little to climb the trees, and the workers at the fair told him he could ride when he grew a few more inches. it was frustrating for Dan... well until he hit 14. it was as if overnight, he became a lanky 6-foot-something lad, who didn’t quite know how to control his long limbs, constantly carving his shin off the coffee table and walking into open doors because he couldn’t see them at eye level. Dan hated long legs. well... his own.
Phil was also 6-foot-something. if Dan thought he was tall when he met Phil he was the short one. he had to look up at Phil and when they hugged, Dan's head just about reached his shoulder. Dan loved to run his hands up and down Phil’s legs when they were lying together on the bed, Phil giggling and tugging at Dan’s fringe with a “get back up here.” Dan wasn’t sure what it was, but Phil’s legs set off some kind of primal, animalistic urge within him. he wanted to cover every inch with his lips, kiss and nip his shins till they were red, suck on his thighs and leave bruises that still wouldn’t be faded by the time he got back to Manchester. he loved to hang behind Phil so he could watch how his legs moved, long and lean as he took clumsy steps downstairs or long strides down the streets of London. he loved to watch Phil try to fold his legs up in the bathtub, insisting that they could both fit. even when Dan's legs length surpassed Phi’ls, he was never quite as mesmerised. Phil's favourite part of Dan's body was probably his thighs, as he spent most of his time caressing them and squeezing and kissing them, but Dan didn’t understand how he could love Dan's so much, but hate his own. it was something they could argue about though when they lay sated and naked, curled up together.
“I love your thighs,” Phil would mutter.
“Yeah, well, I love yours more,” Dan would grin, kissing the top of his head.
“in this essay, I will explain why yours are better...” Phil would joke. they never took it much further though, just silently knowing that they were right.
bum
Dan kind of understands this one. he wouldn’t date someone based off their ass, but it didn’t hurt to feel the appeal. Dan's own wasn’t too flat until he crammed it into his obnoxiously tight skinny jeans that pushed it down so much that it looked like nothing. he didn't mind though, anything for fashion. Phil would usually pout quite a bit though, pulling Dan forward by the belt loops and kissing him, trying to sneakily undo the button and tug them back down.
“looser ones,” Phil always murmured against Dan's lips, crossing his arms when Dan would roll his eyes at him.
“what do I do for you?” Dan would sigh dramatically, kicking them off and putting Phil's favourite pair on.
but Phil's ass was perfect. it was impossible to crush as, even when he’d wear a pair of Dan's jeans, it was still there. Dan usually always slapped his ass when he bent over as a joke, giggling as Phil would jump and whine “Dan!” Dan couldn’t help it though.
when they kissed, his hands usually started on the small of Phil’s back. ever since he’d grown, Phil’s go to was to stand on tippy toes so he could reach around Dan's neck, insisting it brought them closer together when Dan would complain that his back hurt. he was only joking really though, as this way, when it got heated, Dan could move his hands down over the curve of Phil's ass, pulling him closer to press flush against each other, or even grind their bodies together if things got especially heated. it was just a wonderful part of Phil that Dan loved so much (especially whenever he was big spoon at night time and he could feel it pushed up against his body)
everything
Before they met, Dan never appreciated the beauty of the human body. with Phil, he appreciated it. because contained within that body, was the most beautiful soul, the funniest personality and the most gentle, loving giant he’d ever known. It was the perfect body for Dan’s favourite person in the whole world. He wouldn’t change a thing about it, ever. from his brilliant blue eyes down to the tips of his toes, Phil was beautiful, inside and out.
and Dan never tried to stop himself from falling deeper in love every day..
#phandom#phan#phanfiction#Dan and Phil#danhowell#phil lester#cute#body positive#love#lovers#dramaticlester
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24 little kinks | Doors 14, 15 🎄
“You remember that chocolate advent calendar I got you for December?”
“I do,” he chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “You made me display it in the kitchen so I would not eat it all at once.”
Your smile widened. “How about we get another one?”
Loki raised an eyebrow, only now paying proper attention to the sex toy ad. Then, he frowned. It was an odd mixture of disgust, genuine curiosity and even a hint of arousal flashing in his blue eyes.
A/N: Happy third Advent Sunday, everyone! ♥
NSFW warnings: anal play, spanking
-
“Loki! Raw dough is bad for your stomach!”
“Is it now?” With a moan, the God of Mischief licked his fingers which he had dipped into the mixing bowl unceremoniously and hence sending a lightning bolt of pure arousal straight between your legs. He had insisted you made some more biscuits for you both to munch on this third Advent Sunday since you had given a great portion to the Avengers on Friday—only did he not allow you to put on any clothes for the deed. Really. Once you had risen from bed this morning, Loki had magically locked your wardrobe and drawers and even hidden your bathrobe.
That was a little unfair, given that he was still dressed. But as long as the blinds were down and your flat was heated, cooking, baking and going about your day all naked while he was watching you with hawk eyes made you a lot hornier than you would have liked to admit.
“Are you comfortable, my sweet?” He hugged you from behind, pressing his body against your back to make you feel the growing bulge in his trousers. His hot breath brushed against your ear, one of his hands sneaking between your bare legs to gently tug on the string of the love balls he had put inside you this morning. They were heavy, making you clench your walls constantly and only adding to your growing arousal.
Loki did not at all seem bothered that most of the toys in the advent calendar were for women rather than men, especially not since yesterday, on Saturday morning, when you had explained the concept of butt plugs to him.
“I see…” A mischievous grin spread on his lips. “I was certainly never opposed to claiming all of your warm and tight holes in time, my sweet. So if this will help you prepare you for me and is clearly nice to look at… There is only one thing I would like to improve.”
It was the colour he had meddled with. Originally, the plug had come in silver, with a blue stone. Now it was gold and the stone was emerald green. You did like it better than before, there was no doubt about that.
This morning, after you had opened door number fourteen and revealed the golden love balls, Loki had made you wear both toys at the same time. He was very well aware you intended to clean up the living room a little for putting up the Christmas tree next week. Dusting, hoovering… all sorts of things where moving was inevitable. And the entire time, Loki had the audacity to observe you like a particularly exciting TV programme.
By the time the biscuits were cooling down on the counter and your living room was fit to present a richly decorated Christmas tree, your juices were already running down your inner thigh. You were not used to wearing love balls, or butt plugs. But it felt good. The closest you had come to anal play was when you had joked around with your former boyfriend from high school who had used Vaseline to insert a tampon into your butthole—which, looking back at it now, had been incredibly reckless and risky.
Loki licked his lips. He had made himself comfortable on your sofa, lazily following a Christmas programme on TV. Legs spread and arms resting on the back rest, he licked his lips when he noticed your sweet predicament. Had he mentioned before just how much he loved you for buying this advent calendar?
A wave of singeing heat washed over your body. Instinctively, you imagined him licking your thigh… thirstily lapping up your arousal. Did he imagine it too?
“Y-you could have helped me, you know.” Loki grinned in response.
“Help you with what exactly, my sweet? Cleaning your flat… or taking care of that lovely quim of yours to make that awfully tingling feeling go away?”
You swallowed thickly, obeying when he motioned for you to join him on the sofa. Loki pulled you on his lap the moment you intended to sit down next to him. The way the fabric of his trousers rubbed against your bare backside almost made you moan.
“I hope you enjoyed the show then.” You said defiantly, making him chuckle. Teasingly, his fingertips trailed up your spine. Goose bumps spread all over your back.
“Oh, I most certainly did, my sweet… and I believe you deserve a reward for being such a good girl for me today…” Loki reached for one of the cookies you had put on the table earlier, eating it with relish. Then, without any forewarning, he bent you over his knee so your butt stuck up in the air slightly, providing him with a perfect view of the little plug that was still resting inside you.
You let out a surprised scream when he brought his hand down on one of your buttocks forcefully. At first you felt nothing but then, a burning sensation spread on your skin where he had spanked you.
“H-hey! You said you were going to reward me!” You complained, unable to hide the longing in your voice. Loki chuckled once again, holding you down firmly with his free hand.
“I am the God of Mischief, my sweet… did you not know?” He spanked you once more, this time on the other buttock. And while you were fully aware that this was some sort of punishment or revenge for when you had used that g-spot vibrator without him, you could not deny you were going to get something out of this too.
With the butt plug firmly inside you, every following stroke increased your arousal to about as high as the Empire State Building. The feeling was downright amazing. Surely by now, your butt was glowing red but somehow… you did not want him to stop. The way the stinging and burning pain mixed with your lust, the way you felt the sex toy in your arse whenever he spanked it and the way he held you down… there was no doubt you were as of right now making a mess on his trousers, drowning it with your juices.
Loki stopped just when you thought you could not take any more. He was careful with his strength whenever you did things like this. Knowing he always knew when to stop to not harm you in any way made you moan. Trust truly was an unexpectedly sexy thing…
“Loki, please…”
“Yes? What is it you wish from me, my sweet?” He purred, tenderly stroking your back. You shifted on his lap.
“Make me cum for you, please…”
Your submissive ‘for you’ did it. Loki did not hesitate for a second. Growling in an animalistic manner, he parted your legs a little further and ran two of his fingers over your wet lips, almost making you trip over the edge already when he buried his thumb in your wetness and then used both his index and middle finger to massage your clit. His touch did the rest.
You moaned his name when you came undone, loudly. After all the build-up, those waves of pure bliss felt a hundred times more intense. Still moaning and whimpering, you contracted around the toys inside you which seemingly drew out your orgasm even longer. Once the pleasure faded, you went limp on his lap, panting uncontrollably.
Loki chuckled for a third time. He too was breathing heavily now, the sight of you cumming for him, because of the way his hands had played with your body, was, after all, indescribably stimulating. His erection was begging for your attention as it pressed against your pubic bone.
“Keep still, my sweet. I will remove the toys for you, yes?”
You nodded tiredly, allowing him to do all the work while you relaxed on his lap. One by one, Loki carefully pulled out the love balls, then ordered you to relax your muscles so he could remove the plug. Certainly, this was not the last time he had used this on you. Two more weeks until Christmas also meant two more weeks of a naughty toy every day, after all.
But first, he wanted to make love to you, right here on your sofa.
-
A/N: Door 16 will be opened tomorrow, December 16th!
Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente
#24 little kinks#advent calendar#christmas lights gif from hercules cliparts 2019#loki#loki imagine#loki x you#loki x reader#loki fluff#loki smut#loki laufeyson#loki laufeyson imagine#loki laufeyson x you#loki laufeyson x reader#loki laufeyson smut#loki laufeyson fluff#loki odinson#loki odinson imagine#loki odinson x you#loki odinson x reader#loki odinson fluff#loki odinson smut#thor#thor imagine#the avengers#the avengers imagine#mcu#mcu imagine#marvel#marvel imagine#tom hiddleston
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mob boss peter - 13, 14, 17, 18
Send me a number, ship (or character) & verse - I’ll do some headcanons!
Oooh, I like this - the character & the prompts!
warnings: there’s some NSFW stuff
13. Where is your muse most sensitive?
Out of all his lovers, Tony is the only one to realize just how sensitive Peter is - just about everywhere. There’s a special spot where his ass cheeks meet his thigh that is absolute magic, though, and can take him from interested to a step away from jumping off the cliff with a single touch. When he first found it, Tony spent several minutes driving Peter crazy - his fingertips played down the line of that crease, the man’s zigzag pattern making the muscles in his thighs jump erratically. Now that he’s aware of it, Tony is sneaky about the way he uses it to his advantage. Sometimes they’re fucking and Tony will pick him up by his ass cheeks, his thumbs brushing against that spot with every single driving thrust forward. The fact that someone knows something so intimate about him makes the vulnerable feeling in the back of his throat itch a little - but Tony is the epitome of discretion. And the man doesn’t share.
14. Is your muse more submissive or dominant in a relationship?
Peter is dominant everywhere but the bedroom. It feels good to let Tony take control, to let the other man pull all of the kinks in his chain apart and rearrange them to be more suitable until the next time Peter needs that same treatment. It’s easy to see that Tony likes to take control just as much as Peter likes to let him. He’s reverent in the way he takes care of Peter when they’re together - like the pile driving he’s taking isn’t going to break him if their eyes are locked or their lips are pressed tightly together. There are times when Tony likes to be called sir and Peter goes out of his way to speak the word so sweetly - his eyelashes blinking rapidly as he does. Those times, Peter likes the fact that he’s forced to submit; it reminds him that control doesn’t mean everything. He finds the most pleasure when Tony doesn’t let him cum until the permission drips deliciously from the older man’s mouth.
17. Does your muse leave hickies? Do they ask for them?
Peter doesn’t like to show weakness, so any displays of ownership happen below the collar. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like a good hickie, though - there are always several littered across his upper chest and the inside of his legs; Tony gets a little carried away when Peter is enthusiastically thrusting back against him as he licks him wide open. He loves when Tony breaks away from his task and peppers kisses to his inner thighs. His teeth sink in right around the time Tony presses a couple of fingers in without warning - it’s exquisite and all too much at once.
He likes to give them, too. Tony isn’t strict about his appearance, so he’ll wear them proudly if Peter is in the mood to mark him up. There are so many other things about Tony that shout his, but sometimes - it’s nice to see the tangibility of the physicality between them. One of the best parts of their relationship is how well they fit in that aspect, Peter gets something from Tony that no lover has ever been able to afford him before.
18. Does your muse like to be pinned down, or to pin their partner?
Tony’s physical strength is unparalleled. It’s kind of sneaky, too. Peter first experienced it when Tony picked him up and took him against the wall in his garage. After hours fucking with Tony still covered in oil from his day working on cars quickly becomes Peter’s favorite after that. So, it’s not surprising when Tony flips him over and presses his head into the mattress that he’s totally into it. He doesn’t have to touch his cock once to come all over himself like the messy slut he can be. The weight of Tony on top of him is something he’s a pretty big proponent of, too. There are times when nothing is calling for Peter’s attention and Tony can take his time. The man seems to love bringing him to the edge just to pull back and slow his thrusts down until there’s nothing but the slightest trace of fullness. When it all gets to be too much, Tony presses him down into the mattress with his chest and lets his hips have their way - the friction of tight abs against his cock gets him every single time. It’s an absolute fucking delight.
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Q U O T E
Courage is not the absence of fear but the judgment that something else is more important than fear.
B A S I C S
NAME lowell thibodeaux channing NAME MEANING since lowell’s father passed before he was born, lowell’s mom, birdie, wanted to honor her late husband in naming their son. channing means young wolf, so she chose lowell, meaning little wolf, as a way to carry on her husband’s legacy. thibodeaux, meaning bold or brave, is birdie’s maiden name. NICKNAMES in college when he grew a beard each basketball season he garnered the name sasquatch, sometimes shortened to squatch. some of his coworkers call him that around the station. GENDER cis male PROUNOUNS he/him AGE thirty-two BIRTHDAY august 13 BIRTH PLACE new orleans, lousiana
F A M I L Y
PARENTS guy channing (father; deceased), birdie (mother; surname tbd); charles (step-dad; surname tbd) SIBLINGS step-sister (name tbd; wanted connection here!) PETS gus, a rhodesian ridgeback
A P P E A R A N C E
FACE CLAIM derek theler BUILD 6′5, athletic. lowell’s muscles have always tended to be defined without him having to put too much effort into it, though that doesn’t mean he doesn’t put in the hours needed both for his health and his profession. lowell balances his love of junk food and midnight snacks with lean proteins and plenty of greens. HAIR light brown. the longer it gets, the more curl and texture it has, and lowell takes the time to style it properly. when he grows a beard his whiskers tend to be more on the ginger rather than brunette side of things. EYES blue DISTINGUISHING MARKS surgical scar on his left elbow from fixing a break sustained during a basketball game when he was 12. TATTOOS wolf paw print between his shoulder blades STYLE modern, casual comfort. shorts, tanks, jeans, t-shirts, and flannels. ACCESSORIES his father’s watch. lowell doesn’t wear it on his wrist, but it’s usually in one of his pockets, or kept safe and tucked away in his nightstand. HYGIENE lowell sometimes showers multiple times a day, and has for years depending on sport practices, games, and workouts, and then on work calls SCENT le labo santal 33; sandalwood and leather
P S Y C H O L O G Y
LANGUAGES english and some creole phrases/expressions VOCABULARY average-ish. he can figure out ‘big’ words with good context, and got used to looking things up from a young age. MEMORY keeping a calendar and to-do lists on his phone is needed more so for organizational and focus TEMPERAMENT sanguine LEARNING STYLE mainly kinaesthetic, but there are some auditory elements that work for lowell. EMOTIONAL STABLITY pretty high, though that’s because lowell’s worked hard (after some rough teenage years) to have a steady foundation, which his job definitely depends on. sometimes he still bottles things up and will release it all during a workout, but over the years he’s learned when to confront something head-on rather than allowing it to fester.
C H A R A C T E R
PRIORITIES carrying for others and most importantly his family, both familial and found MOTIVATION making his family proud SELF CONFIDENCE lowell’s always had confidence in his physical abilities. it’s his intelligence where his confidence will at times waiver, but he feels like he’s found a profession that allows him to shine. SELF CONTROL lowell had to learn some level of discipline pretty early on when it came to managing sports and academics. those lessons his mom helped instill have carried through to adulthood and lowell’s career choices. HOBBIES playing music, basketball, outdoor adventures, camping, gardening MANNERISMS usually a bouncing leg/knee when sitting still, especially for too long. running his hands through his hair when talking. touching his neck when nervous. scratching his forehead or cheek when stumped and trying to come up with an answer so he won’t feel dumb. also saying his sirs or ma’ams or missus as his mother taught and expected of him. HABITS after failed medication attempts, lowell found that yoga helps center and focus his mind, plus has improved his overall flexibility, which helps on the job, so he does at least a short routine every morning. on saturdays or sundays, depending on his shifts, he’ll make a big breakfast spread, have hot chocolate (sometimes with coffee), and do a crossword puzzle, because having to look up clues on his phone isn’t cheating, it’s just learning. ABILITIES strength and endurance. musicality. empathy. INEPTITUDES lowell isn’t the brightest crayon in the toolshed, and had to put forth a lot more effort than most when it came to learning and course work in school. he also can’t dance. whatever grace and agility he has when it comes to athletics, and the fact that he can drum and keep a beat, goes completely away the moment he steps on a dance floor. SOFT SPOTS animals, tiny humans, and other people who have suffered loss GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT graduating college, then the firefighter academy, and passing his EMSVO, EMT, and AEMT certifications WESTERN ZODIAC leo CHINESE ZODIAC dragon PRIMAL SIGN orca HOGWARTS hufflepuff ONE SONG "in the air tonight" phil collins ONE BOOK the giving tree shel silverstein ONE MOVIE mrs. doubtfire
P R E F E R E N C E S
LIKES the tired feeling in his muscles and bones after a productive and intense workout or physical call. tacos. pizza. nachos. whoopie pies. his mom’s etouffee and po-boys. root beer floats. spending the day out in nature. gaming. sports. DISLIKES moxie. salt and vinegar chips. ranch dressing. still not a huge fan of maine winters but dealing with it. KINKS consensual voyeurism. PET PEEVES people who are rude to service workers. the trend of crank 9-1-1 calls on tiktok.
H O M E + W O R K + E D U C A T I O N
HOMETOWN new orleans, lousiana (until 14); somerton, maine CURRENT RESIDENCE bridgeport, row house TRADITIONS sunday family dinners HIGH SCHOOL bursted park high (basketball and jazz band) COLLEGE somerton university (basketball) DEGREES b.s. with a concentration on social work/sciences CERTIFICATIONS FFI, FFII, hazardous material operations, public safety diver, EMSVO, EMT, AEMT PROFESSION firefighter/emt (10+ years) EMPLOYER somerton fire and rescue EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES pick-up basketball, cover band drummer
B I O
New Orleans was all Lowell had ever known. Aside from only a few out of state vacations, the city had always been home. And honestly, growing up in Nola meant Lowell got the best of the both worlds: big city living with a small town feel thanks to the neighborhoods and wards of Nola. Families on their street were friendly and nosy, and honestly Lowell’s mom, Birdie, didn’t mind at all because one, she had nothing to hide, and two, was more than happy that when other people learned of her situation -- a widowed and working single mom -- they were more than willing to help out. Which was how instead of becoming a latchkey kid, between after school hours and school vacation, Lowell became a surrogate member of more than a few neighboring families. And while Birdie wished she had been able to make it home from the hospital for more dinners, she was always home in time to sit down at the kitchen table and help Lowell struggle through his assigned school work.
The story was always the same each new school year, with every parent-teacher conference and IEP meeting. Lowell was always a pleasure to have in class, but he was either struggling with math or reading comprehension or his overall attention was lacking. But while Lowell and the general classroom weren’t on the best of terms, he excelled in other areas. Given his size and the fact that he towered over most of his classmates, it wasn’t shocking when the gym teacher had glowing remarks and commented that Lowell’s abilities were well beyond his years, but Birdie was surprised to learn from the music teacher that her son was both attentive and eager to learn in her class, too. After informing Lowell that participation in extracurriculars was dependent upon remaining in good academic standing, sports and music became an award system of sorts. It also didn’t hurt that burning through energy on the field or court, or banging it out with his drums meant that Lowell was less inclined to take out his frustrations of not understanding a word problem or summary question on a kitchen chair or wall.
The summer before eighth grade Lowell started to notice that his mom was coming home early from shifts now and again, getting gussied up, and leaving him with instructions for cooking frozen pizza or bagel bites while she went out. She was always home in time to look over homework and make sure Lowell was in bed on time, so Lowell never wondered too hard about it. Until the day she came home and said they’d be having a guest for dinner. Lowell met whom would become his step-dad that night. Two weeks later he met whom would become his step-sister. And before the start of the new school year, but after a small ceremony in the backyard, the new family had packed up all their belongings to move nearly 2000 miles up north. Chuck, an anesthesiologist, had a new job at Kane-Russell Memorial in Somerton, and there was no doubt that he could pull strings and get Birdie on the RN rotation there, too.
While having a new family should have been the biggest change in Lowell’s life, everything about Maine was so different from Louisiana. Somedays it felt like Lowell was waking up in a whole new country, especially with his accent and missing his favorite local foods. But eventually school started and Lowell fell back into familiar routines of sports, music, and school work, and soon enough it wasn’t so scary putting roots down in a new place with a new family.
By the time Lowell graduated high school he had a scholarship for Somerton U. Even though he could have lived at home, he lived on-campus to have the full college experience, which also included playing as 4-year starter Seahorse on the basketball team. Lowell might have graduated with a social sciences degree, but after their team bus came upon an accident one winter night and Lowell witnessed firsthand everything the emergency response squads were doing to not only save people, but just to calm their nerves, he sort of felt like maybe he had a found something that could be a good fit for him. Lowell was already working towards his EMT certification when he graduated, and after moving back home began to apply to the Somerton firehouse. Lowell’s been part of the Somerton Fire, Rescue, and EMT Services family for ten years now and loves that every day is a bit of a new adventure. When he’s not working, Lowell’s playing drums in a cover band that sometimes performs at On the Rocks or hanging out with dog, Gus.
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Kinktober (October) 2019 Masterlist
Also on AO3 and Wattpad.
1. Handjobs - Logince - Roman is going to miss his boyfriend when they leave for college, so, he savours them moments they still have together. He doesn’t anticipate their soft, savouring moment to turn into their first time being sexual together. [High school + human AU]
2. Fucking Machine - LAMP - Roman doesn’t mind having his brains fucked out by his boyfriends but there’s some things his boyfriends can’t do that a machine can, he thinks Logan very much agrees. Patton and Virgil are very happy to give them the mechanical fucking of their dreams.
3. Tentacles - Intrulogical - Logan accidentally catches Remus with his shirt off with his tentacles exposed. Of course, he has a scientific curiosity to them but he has a more personal interest in Remus. And Remus doesn’t mind doing his own ‘experimenting’ with the nerd.
4. Mirror Sex - Roceit - Roman has a thing for watching himself during sex, Declan adores accommodating this request, watching as Roman watches himself losing himself to pleasure.
5. Monster/Demon Fucking - Analoceit - Virgil not so accidentally summons not one but two sex demons, he tries to play it off as an accident but they don’t believe him. They end up fulfilling his desires by being at his mercy. [Demon AU]
6. Pet Play - Dukeceit - Remus is finally a good puppy for Declan, so, he deserves a reward: humping Declan’s leg until he comes. He’s very, very happy to get off and make a mess.
7. Emeto (Vomit) - Analogical - Virgil is very well endowed, so, he and Logan have never gone that far in their relationship. But Logan really wants to try and suck him off regardless of the risks. He does and things go kind of wrong but also kind of right.
8. Gagging - Prinxiety - Virgil loves the sight of Roman babbling and pleading but what get him off more if how much Roman loves being gagged. So, he gags Roman with his own panties and degrades him.
9. Daddy/Mommy | Public - Logicality - Lucy is a little tease and Poppy can only take so much before she ruins her pretty, little girlfriend in the store’s changing rooms. [Gender swap + human AU]
10. Erotic Dancing (Lap Dancing, Pole Dancing, etc.) - Analodukeceit - Remus is a stripper, one of his boyfriends is his manager, and his other two boyfriends pay him a special visit. He gladly gives them a private show and a little more that the cost doesn’t cover, the real customers won’t mind if he’s a little late to his show.
11. Glory Hole - Loceit - Declan knows this club quite well, Logan a little less so. But they both find something there worth going for as long as it’s with each other.
12. Cock-Warming - Moceit - Patton knows just what Declan wants and needs to calm him down, this time Declan agrees, it’s a good way to sort out his bad mood.
13. Cunnilingus - Analogical - Virgil wants his and Logan’s first time to be just right for them, plus he’s been dying to eat Logan out for a long time now. Tonight is the night.
14. Boot Worship - Dukeceit - Remus loves to serve and worship Declan’s boots, even more so when Declan lets him grind against one boot while he kisses and licks the other.
15. Roleplay - Remile - Emile surprises his boyfriend, Remy, by dressing up as a sexy maid and asking to be called ‘Miss’. Remy very much obliges and enjoys it.
16. Stuck In a Wall - Analomus - Logan somehow finds himself trapped between a wall with Virgil on one side and Remus on the other. The two of them enjoy having their way with him in his vulnerable position.
17. Cock Worship - Intrulogical - Remus is really passionate about sucking cock but Logan’s cock he’s especially obsessed with and he wants to worship it and him.
18. Breast Worship - Analogical - Lucy has a big fascination with her girlfriends big breasts, she loves to have her hands and mouth on them. Vanessa knows this and gives Lucy a taste of her own medicine.
19. Double (or More) Penetration - Roceit - Roman is needy and horny and wants both of Declan’s cocks inside of him this instant, as always Declan loves to tease him.
20. Size Difference - Lomile - Lucy has a big thing for Emily’s height, Emily also has a big thing for Lucy’s height. Good thing they both think alike.
21. Xenophilia - LAMP - Logan has a fascination with aliens, his boyfriend and fellow scientist, Roman, knows this and hopes to question two aliens to satisfy Logan’s curiosity. One thing leads to another, questions leading to actions, leading to them all in bed together. And not just in the name of science.
22. Dacryphilia (Crying) - Royality - Roman cries at a lot of things, some more usual things but he also cries during sex. Sex is emotional for him. Patton comes to enjoy it.
23. Piss (Watersports, Omorashi, Urophagia, etc.) - Intrulogical - Remus picks Logan up for one of their romantic getaways and doesn’t tell his boyfriend where they’re going. Logan slowly grows desperate to use the bathroom, getting so bad that he tells Remus to pull over at the side of the road only it’s too late at that point. Remus has some feelings about it.
24. Intercrural Sex - Moxiety - Virgil wakes up hard and horny, Patton suggests he fucks his thighs to get himself off which Virgil thoroughly enjoys. But it leaves Patton more than a little horny too.
25. Smiles/Laughter - Patmile - Patton makes jokes and puns a lot, even during sex, Emile doesn’t hate it, he’s actually a little fond of it.
26. Feet - Logince - Roman has a thing for feet, not just any feet but Logan’s beautiful, soft feet. Roman accidentally finds himself distracted by his feet and Logan wonders why, then assists Roman’s newly revealed kink.
27. Titfucking - Analogical - Lucy comes home after having a long day at work and Vanessa knows just how to help her girlfriend de-stress by letting her fuck between her breasts.
28. Lingerie or Stockings/Tights/Pantyhose - Analogicality - Patton finds some cute lingerie while out shopping and really wants to see his boyfriends in them, turns out he has more of a thing for lingerie than he thought, his boyfriends are definitely up for exploring this new kink.
29. Sthenolagnia (Strength or Muscles) - Moxiety - Virgil is really quite strong, Patton is so very aroused by it that the mere sight of Virgil’s arms sans his usual hoodie is enough to get him hot and bothered. Virgil really doesn’t mind helping him out.
30. Shower/Bath Sex - Analogince - All three of them fit just right into Rebecca’s bath, it’s good too because it’s one of their favourite places to have gentle, soft sex.
31. Free Day: Breeding Kink - Analomus - They want kids, they really do, they can imagine their future any differently. Logan wants to carry their child, and Remus and Virgil really don’t mind impregnating him. They have fun with it obviously. And Remus really, really likes how Logan looks pregnant.
#kinktober masterlist#october 2019 fic masterlist#el writes#kinktober#kinktober 2019#smuttysanderssidestwopointoh#important
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fic writing meme: 1, 12, 17, 18, 21
Oh dang, that’s a lot! Think I’ll put this behind a cut to spare everyone’s dash.
1. The first fandom I wrote and posted for was Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. But! Somewhere in a landfill is a notebook with a very overwrought Animorphs fic about Ax falling in love with my very cool, original-character-donut-steel alien bat-centaur who can tell the future. Every day I thank the universe for not letting my family have internet access until I was 14. Actually, maybe the universe should have held out longer, but you can peep the cringe for yourself over here: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/173909/Fortuna
Yes, that is my old ff.net profile. My only regret is that I didn’t get a chance to back up my ask fics before the site suddenly decided to make a rule banning them and deleted them all. (Me, still salty over that 15 years later? Why, yes actually.)
12. A trope I haven’t tried yet but really want to? It’s hard to narrow it down; there’s a lot of “cliche” fanfic tropes I never let myself write that I want to indulge in this year. I’m thinking about finding one of those bingo cards to use or something. But since I grew up sneaking my mom’s romance novels, I think an arranged marriage would be fun to try if I have to pick just one.
17. The fic I’m most proud of should come as no surprise, lol. I still can’t believe I finished something as long and plotty as finaglc. Would love to manage it again someday. :’)
18. Line/scene dvd commentary: okay okay okay! So there’s this more-or-less abandoned DaphGan Legend of Zelda fic I was writing back in the day, that was just a loose serious of vignettes in chronological order. I had ideas for like 20 chapters and fizzled out because it turns out only about three people on the whole earth give a shit about DaphGan and I can’t write in a complete void of feedback. Anyway, I researched medieval boar hunting techniques because I desperately wanted an action scene culminating in a ~bad omen~ and here it is, so scroll by if you just want to see the last question in the batch:
Within minutes, they were deep enough that the forest canopy closed above them, far above Ganondorf’s head. In the cool and the dim, and with the rustling of leaves in the breeze overhead sounding almost like waves, Ganondorf felt as though he were at the bottom of a great, ancient lake. Mist lay in a thick blanket on the ground as high as the smaller horses’ barrels, and a carpet of dead leaves and needles deadened the sounds of their movement. The hunters had fallen silent. About that, he had no complaints.
(I recall being inordinately fond of the underwater imagery, because I’d been struggling for how to conceptualize a thick forest for a person who’s spent most of his life in the open desert.)
Save for ferns and scattered herbs, there was little in the way of troublesome plants or low branches beyond the border of the forest, and Ganondorf realized that King Daphnes’ suggestion the day before had, in truth, been polite censure of his clothing rather than any practical concern. He frowned, and put the thought aside. It did not matter.
(I was not at all subtle about the Hylians picking at the Gerudo envoy’s appearances, which I think I could handle a little better now, but alas...)
He thought instead on the many sounds surrounding them, his ears straining to hear every one. There was birdsong, in patterns and notes he had never heard. Small creatures rustled in the trees. Water gurgled somewhere out of view. The woods were full of life in every direction, and Ganondorf quietly marvelled at its richness.
All of this, for the sport of one family?
(This piece of writing is old enough that I was still using the now-defunct “two spaces after a period” rule, wow. Also, hello there, years-old misspelling. :/)
They kept to a walking pace for an hour or two, hushed but alert. The dogs picked up a scent, the party wheeling around to follow after them. Ganondorf rode alongside King Daphnes. The man’s eyes were alight as he looked down the deer trail ahead of the dogs; a small smile of anticipation grew on his face. "They have something, eh?” he said, in a whisper. “What did I tell you!”
The lead dog threw its head back, baying. It launched itself forward and the rest of the pack followed suit, tails held high like flags.
An enormous boar, all sinewy muscle and bristled hide, burst from a nearby thicket and was driven ahead of them.
“Aha!" The king spurred his horse to a gallop, the rest of the party just behind. Ganondorf quickly found himself bringing up the rear.
The stallion seemed to find this as unacceptable as he did, for without his urging it picked up speed, long strides eating up the ground until the pair were level with the king once more.
(This bit started with the rest of the hunting party giving G-dawg mad shit for insisting on riding his stallion instead of a more appropriate horse, so I had to vindicate him, of course.)
Ganondorf’s eyes were now fixed on the boar. He crouched low over the stallion’s neck, free hand fisted in the tangles of its mane. They pulled ahead to run with the dogs, until even the dogs were falling behind them.
"Stay with it!" The king’s bellow carried over the thunder of the stallion’s hooves. "Keep running it!”
They ran. The boar was fast and nimble, leading a chase through dense copses and over fast-flowing streams. The world fell away until all that remained was the path they weaved through the trees, the rolling strength of the horse beneath him, the forest rushing by in a blur of green and loamy brown, and the boar.
Ganondorf laughed like a child, his heart light for first time since he’d come to this impossibly green land.
The chase ended when the boar made to leap over a fallen log and could not clear it, tumbling end over end. The beast scrambled to its hooves, brandishing its long tusks. It had reached the point of exhaustion, steam rising from its hide, muscles quivering with exertion. It could run no longer.
Ganondorf held it at bay, keeping the point of his spear trained on it. He did not wish to incite it to charge and risk his horse. He simply looked at it, watching the boar watch him with wide, red eyes. Foam gathered at its mouth, and he wondered whether it would die where it stood, if its heart had burst in its chest.
The baying of the dogs was not far off. The hunters were closing in.
(Still a little puffed up over the juxtaposition of hunting being legitimately thrilling but cruel. Catch my bro getting swept up in the excitement.)
“Excellent work!" Daphnes was at the head of the party, as he had been to start. "Oh, well done, man!”
As the dogs circled, barking and snapping, the boar stood its ground, head lowered. It made a few feints at the dogs foolish enough to attack, but as the hunters closed in it had less and less room to manoeuvre. Ganondorf could see it rallying for a final effort, weariness flowing into terror and rage.
It roared, lunging, scattering the dogs. Blood streaked its tusks. A horse reared when its leg was cut by sharp hooves. For a moment, it looked to Ganondorf as though it might break away again and escape.
In one practiced motion, Daphnes leapt from his horse and sunk his spear deep into the boar’s side.
Ganondorf’s racing heart froze. Pain keener than any he had ever felt lanced through him, choking him on a silent cry. He clutched at his chest, groping for the spear-head that wasn’t there. His own spear fell from numb fingers to the forest floor. Terror and agony, all-encompassing, swept over him in a crushing wave.
None of the other hunters noticed his distress. All eyes were locked on their king’s struggle with the beast. The boar screamed, running against the spear as if it would happily run the length of it to reach Daphnes with its final breath. The cross-tree of the spear and the strength of the man wielding it kept the boar’s tusks far from its target, however, and for every drop of blood that spilled from its side a portion of its strength bled away with it.
After what felt far too long, the boar collapsed. It’s screams had faded to rattling breaths, and when Daphnes stepped forward, knife drawn, it did not resist.
It was on Ganondorf that its red eyes rested when its throat was cut, in some mute accusation or seeking solace, he could not say. The pain in his chest receded when the final gout of blood ran out onto the dark earth. By the time Daphnes stood from his task, wiping his hands and blade clean on a rag, Ganondorf might have believed that the pain had been a trick of his imagination.
(This thing with the dead boar was meant to keep coming up in small ways throughout the rest of the vignettes as a harbinger of G-dawg’s ultimate failure and doom along with being an illustration of how he twists and suppresses himself for the sake of pleasing Daphnes, but of course it’ll probably never happen now since I’m five years out. I really did like this idea, though, and this scene was super fun to write. Except for now I’ve noticed another old typo. T_T)
21. The fic that got away? Lots; I actually have a horrible track record for finishing long fics. The one I’m most bummed out by, that I still think of from time to time, was actually a fill for the old Transformers Anonymous Kink Meme on LJ. It was Animated-verse pre-war Ratchet/Ultra Magnus with a detour into Ratchet/Megatron. I was about two thirds of the way done when something happened in the community that I can’t recall anymore derailed me, and I never ended up finishing it. Sometimes I think about scraping it off the meme to at least archive what I had done on Ao3 or something, but I probably won’t lol. It would take forever to track it down since this was back in like, 2012.
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